(mechanic!reader)
cw // blowjob, overstim, robotfucking!! keep in mind I have 0 mechanical knowledge this is just me spitballing
boothill glitches & overheats when he's overstimulated!
it's not super obvious at first, what with going down on him and all, your eyes are kind of downcast as you focus on licking up and down his synthetic cock - the one you'd given him. it feels just as good, better, even, than a regular human's, and you'd made sure to up his sensitivity to touch extra for your little night with him.
his little huffs and pants are quite delicious, trying so hard to fight off the noises that are bubbling in his throat, but he can't help but let off a sharp whine when your tongue drags right beneath his tip, metal hands nearly gouging into the metal examination table beneath him.
"d-darlin', d-did you-" he's just about to figure out your little tinkering with his sense of touch when you wrap your lips around his tip and suck hard, your hand gliding up and down his shaft, aided with the residual slick left behind by your wandering mouth.
"ngh- mmnh! fudge, fudge, fudge!" ah, he curses in his mind that you were so willing to give him all these lovely upgrades, but you weren't quite as eager to fix the 'hilarious' problem with his synesthesia beacon.
he gets as close to cumming as a cyborg can, no liquid spurting from the tip but the heat from his metal body and the way his face tenses, then relaxes, making it all too clear he's reached his climax.
but you don't stop.
"h-hey, sugar? I j-just- oh, god, mmmh-" he can barely get the words out as you go in again, just as enthusiastic, if not even more so than before.
your tongue sliding back over his cock was absolute heaven, but also - man, was it also torture. he was already nearly at the edge again, his fingers actually making divots in the metal of the table this time. if boothill could swear, the words would be pouring out of his lips, but he settles on biting down on his lip instead, drawing some of that blue blood he's now been built with.
"h-honey? s-sugar, fudge, ahh, ahhh! I ca-ca-can't-!"
you look up at that, noticing the way he's stuttering, stammering more than usual even when he's overwhelmed. his lip is twitching, almost as if he's going to cry, but then you see his arm spasm unusually, jerking to the side when you get in one last little kitten lick on his aching cock.
he came again.
his face was utterly debauched, and he stared you down with a look of utter shock, his jaw twitching a bit as he tried to think of the words to say. you reach up to cup his cheek, your other hand landing on his abdomen, which results in you quickly pulling away with a sharp hiss.
he was burning up!
"darlin', I'm so-so-so-so-" he jittered out, the voicebox in his throat malfunctioning from the heat. he reaches a working hand up to grasp his throat, his lips moving but the sound not quite working in sync with them.
you paused, watching the way he glitched about, and then began to laugh. boothill shot you a betrayed look, but you just sighed with a smile and grabbed your tools, pulling over your swivel chair.
"okay, this'll be a lesson learned for upping your sensitivity next time."
"I k-k-k-knew it!"
"yes, yes. can't have your wires frying every time we fuck, love."
The night drew into dawn. Sky dotted in pale blue, devoid of clouds. Gold smudges the heavens, drawing out like a dragon’s tail, sunlight poured into the corners of the dry earth.
The sands turned into grass beneath his very feet. Inky black towers lay in ruins, walls eroded through the element of time. Moss and plantation cover much of the stone, trees and new life grow in the wake of its corpse.
He stood with a stranger in the long shadows of early dawn, unmasked, unafraid. It was so unlike of him. He had always been afraid.
But Notune had nothing to hide anymore.
His disgraced history did not matter to the other, a wandering vagrant they were, had no say in his position. Called themselves Eryll. No surname. Fitting for someone of their nature. Notune was unknowing if Eryll was even their actual name.
But they were faceless, nameless in his head. Only a distant figure in the background, to meddle in his life. Like they all were, everyone. Useless, unworthy. But he was one to talk.
“Ever wonder what it’d be like to live in one of those?” They asked. Notune stayed silent.
He drew out, tone just barely above a whisper. “I don’t like castles.” He said, absently. Lies. He grew up in one. Lies. He called one home.
Home. He could never come home.
Notune would never. Even if he had the choice too. Going away is easy. That’s what he’s always been doing. Going, going away. Never coming home. So far now. Drifted away, caught by the turbulent current of life that drew him from the shores of his homeland.
“Really, do you?” Notune gave them an odd look, like they had offended him.
“Of course.” He breathed out. “Sure. They’re grand, pretty things they are, when they’re not in ruins. But I’d prefer some nice cottage, in the middle of nowhere. Peace. Quiet. Far away from the heart of any kingdom.” He lightly smiled to himself, humored the thought. Notune, exiled prince of the Silver Isle, living in a humble home in the countryside of who-knows-where.
It’s now Eryll’s turn to give him an odd look. Notune just stares back into those hollow eyes. Silence follows. Eryll breaks it first.
“Who exactly are you?” they manage to breathe out, to ask.
Notune considers letting aside his distrust. Opening his heart, tearing those high walls of his down. Like he said, he had nothing to hide. But Notune finds himself falling into familiar, comfortable routines.
“I’m like you, of course.” He lies. No guilt stirs in his stomach. Regardless, he offers a small smile.
“hobi”, taehyung whined, upper body on full display as he tried to make the button of his pants’ meets its designed place. “i think you fucked up laundry this week.”
hoseok raised an eyebrow. not a questioning one, no. he was quite surprised his boyfriend wasn’t seeing what was right in front of him. like, literally. there’s no way taehyung couldn’t see all that softness wasn’t there a few months ago. it was, and that’s the major point, exactly what kept the button from meeting its assigned space. there was just no-
“uhmmm, cmon...”, taehyung fake cried again, trying to make the jeans’ folds get together. he didn’t even get close. plus, instead of sucking in, to hoseok, at that angle, all relaxed on the bed while forgetting what he was doing on his phone, it seemed like tae actually breathed out, all the “exercise” of pulling and tugging in fact making him tired.
fuck. it was low-key cute, if hobi wants to be honest. and he does, for real. he wants to tell him, “baby, you know, they got you... all the sweets you’ve been bringing home from the bakery next to your workplace... they really got you.” but instead, he takes a moment to appreciate the lovely (and forgive him for such a corny pun) lovehandles spilling from the sides. the little rolls forming whenever taehyung curves his spine a little when trying to button those tight as fuck pants. the rosy cheeks puffing from all the useless attempts. damn. he looks adorable. hoseok wants to kiss him. all over. kiss him and grab him and bite him and-
“you’re just gonna keep looking at me like that? not even gonna give me a hand?”, taehyung asked, arms folded now accentuating the curve of his belly. his supposed-to-be angry stare doesn’t quite suit him, mostly ‘cause those bread cheeks couldn’t threaten anyone even if he wanted to. hoseok feels his heart melt, and smiles gently.
“honey, i don’t think i can help you...”, he gets up from where he was once waiting patiently for them to leave and have some chinese. now he thinks he wants to see tae filling that tummy up-close, in the comfort or their flat. “even if jungkook, with those big arms of him, tried to force these folds to meet...” hoseok got behind his boyfriend, circling his waist. then got ahold of the two sides of the thick fabric, seeing tae’s skin shiver under his soft touch. “they would end up ripping, sooner or later.”
“what do you mean?”, taehyung asked, a nervous laugh contrasting with the way he was staring at his boyfriend in the mirror.
“i mean that you look beautiful...” hobi caressed his plump hips with both his thumbs, slowly. taehyung almost moaned when he felt lips brushing against his his earlobe, as hoseok completed, “but there’s no way your pants can keep up with this squishy tum.”
it was fast, the way the older pinched his extra skin. fast, but gentle. always gentle. taehyung gasped, but didn’t try to let go of the touch. hoseok pecked his shoulder.
“uhm. i... i didn’t...”
“notice?”, he mocked while rubbing the soft belly. a finger got brave and entered tae’s now deeper bellybutton, just for a few seconds. the younger bit his own lip. “yeah”, hoseok purred, back to meeting his boyfriend’s eyes at the mirror. they were sparkling with yearning. “but it’s alright. we can order in and do online shopping tomorrow. right now we need to get you fed, don’t we?”
with a low grumble, taehyung’s tummy answered in his place. both him and hoseok laughed, feeling the night held an expecting sensation of discovery.
After Keon turned in for the night, Wrenn noticed he had received a large package.
It was just left in front of the place he called a house, and he curiously tilted his head as he opened it. Though his eyes widened at its contents, he realized he shouldn't have been so surprised--for it was the books he had asked Nahida for that very morning.
She was a quick worker, wasn't she? As he rummaged through the books, however, he came across a few that were from Inazuma specifically, along with a note.
I hope these help. - Nahida.
She must have figured out what he wanted them for... Well, it wasn't a bad thing--saved Wrenn some trouble, even.
He took the books inside and started to read them one by one, hyperfocused to the point of a near frenzy. He took down more notes into his notebook, crossing off some treatments that had been proven ineffective, adding new ones, listing ingredients to grind into herbs for remedies... There was a lot to do, thankfully, to keep his mind occupied off of what happened.
The books from Inazuma happened to be written by Inazuman doctors, and they often spoke of soldiers getting struck by lightning. Each one had different symptoms, unfortunately, so it didn't seem like there was a universal treatment...
But, he did notice some Inazuman specialties listed--Naku weed, Sea Ganoderma, and Fluorescent Fungus. These ingredients often came up in the texts as remedies that seemed to help patients struck with lightning in some way. Some helped reduce inflammation, some supposedly helped with memory, along with other benefits. The doctors noted that the results of the treatment varied among the patients... but there was no harm in trying them.
Wrenn wrote down these specialties on a list, and wrote another letter to Nahida asking if there was a way to get an import of these things faster--or if she knew of any vendor that sold seeds to be able to grow these at home.
Home...
Wrenn froze in his tracks when the word came up in his mind, his grip on his pen tightening. Home... A lot of feelings were associated with that word, and few of them that he felt in that moment were positive ones.
He drew in a shaky breath, and exhaled. Wrenn didn't have the time to let his emotions rule over him now--even if they bubbled in his throat, just barely held back by his self restraint. Yet he still couldn't stop his eyes from becoming glassy, no matter how hard he tried.
... No matter how hard he tried. Well, wasn't that the story of his life.
you cant pause time and you know it yourself but sometimes you just like to. (believe maybe once.) or twice. but you can stop the music on your music player to; maybe, make it seem like it. you want the world to stop, to stop orbiting and pause time itself.
ii. [ rewind. ]
where are you, you don’t even know. (what a lost boy.) you’re sitting on a worn out bench and the last time you checked it was painted over blue too many times the color looks worn out now. the song; what was it again? who cares, plays again for the second, thrid, fourth, fifth time today it replays so many more times, more than you can count with your fingers and toes.
