popacorn

[popacorn]

EXPERIENCE (m.)

könig x inexperienced!reader

tags: age gap, acquaintances to lovers, afab!reader but gn

cw: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, fingering, hand riding (hear me out), pussyjob, talking u thru it, praise, pet names (liebling, little one), size kink/difference, handjob, reassurance/encouragement kink, wet&messy, konig is uncut hehe, squirting

note: konig is in his 40s and reader is in their 20s!

;in which you live in the same building as a really hot, older, military man

9.5k

When you met König, you never expected the harmless interactions to ever evolve into anything substantial. He lived somewhere in the same apartment building as you did, though you didn’t know where exactly. Most times, you would find him in the elevator or cross paths with him in the lobby. 

You knew he was in the military, most of the people living in the building were. It was close to the nearby base and had rent for a damn good price. The way he carried himself, back straight and body seemingly always at attention gave him away. 

He was massive, standing much taller above you with broad shoulders and thick thighs. A lot of the time he was wearing a hood over his face, mostly when he was coming or going from work – which was seemingly all the time. 

On the few occasions that you caught him without the hood, you could tell it was him solely by his build. There was no one else in the building who looked anything like that. 

He was handsome, in a rugged, tired kind of way. He was a lot older than you were expecting him to be – probably in his early to mid forties, you guessed. He had salt and pepper hair, fine lines etched onto his face, and stern eyes from (no doubt) many years in the military. 

You had never properly spoken to him before. Hell, you didn’t even know his name. You greeted him when you saw him and smiled in passing when you made eye contact. Occasionally, he would respond in an accented voice that you longed to ask about. 

The event that changed everything was a fun little night out you had with your friends. You had maybe had a bit too much to drink before finally conceding at your friends’ behest to call yourself an Uber. 

By the time you reach your apartment building, you’re still very buzzed and starting to feel a little nauseous. You stumble to the elevator and impatiently slam your thumb on the button over and over again, losing count as you do. 

“It’s not going to come any faster,” an accented voice drones next to you, nearly making you jump out of your skin. 

“You scared the shit out of me,” you wheeze, hand over your racing heart.

“You should be more aware of your surroundings then,” he says, “Especially when you are intoxicated.”

You huff through your nose, growing annoyed at the prospect of being lectured. The elevator grants mercy and dings before slowly opening. There's a rowdy group of men inside who quickly walk out of the elevator, seedy eyes immediately finding their way to you, scanning your body up and down as they pass by. 

You feel that nauseous pit in your stomach twist as you finally step onto the elevator. Nothing to ruin your jovial mood from a nice evening more than a group of leering men. Living in an apartment building filled with soldiers, it wasn’t unusual to have them stare at you – didn’t mean you liked it. 

You cross your arms over your chest as König steps on, the elevator creaking and groaning under his immense weight. 

“What floor?” he asks softly, glancing at you over his shoulder as he stands in front of the button panel.

“3,” you mumble, leaning against the back wall. You watch him punch in the 3 but not anything else, making you raise a brow, “You live on 3 too?”

He shakes his head but doesn’t say another word. You narrow your eyes at his back, if he feels you looking, he doesn’t give it away. The elevator is plunged into silence aside from the quiet sound of the shaft moving up and up until it dings and the doors slide open. 

He steps out first, standing in the threshold to keep the door from closing as you push yourself off the wall. Your head swims for a second and you stumble past him, keenly aware of his eyes on you. 

You wander down the hallway, glancing over your shoulder to see him slowly stalking behind you. His arms hand limply by his sides, his fists clenched into fists but he remains a respectable distance. 

“Why are you following me?” you ask, unable to hide the nervousness in your tone, “You said you don’t live on this floor.”

“Young recruits are tools,” he supplies simply, “I am making sure you make it to your door without any problems.”

That causes you to hum and for a little flutter in your stomach to manifest. You brush it off and pause at your door, pulling your keys out so unlock it. You push it open and step in, letting it hit your back to keep it from closing as you turn to look at your companion.

“Thank you…um…” you clear your throat and look at him expectantly. 

“König,” he supplies simply, arms tucked behind his back, making him look even wider. 

“König…” you repeat, feeling the words on your tongue, “Interesting name. Where are you from?”

“Austria,” he replies almost mechanically, “I will be going now.”

You don’t get to say another word before he’s stalking away and down the hallway, heavy footfalls practically rumbling the ground beneath him. You slowly close your door and lean against it, hand placed over your racing heart – when did that start up? 

You blame it on your inexperience when it comes to men. You’d had a couple boyfriends, pretty standard for someone in their 20s. Your problem was none of them were ever good enough. The over-zealous types who wanted their dicks sucked as gratitude for paying for dinner. Then would turn around and either give you the most lackluster head of your life, barely any foreplay before trying to shove his dick into an unprepared hole. 

You had never given them the chance, once they showed they were only interested in their own pleasure and would more than likely not even think about touching your clit or angling for your g-spot, you stopped them and kicked them out. More often than not, you woke up to a break-up text because of course you did. 

So that was how you were still a virgin and more or less, at this point, given up on dating. You’d been single now for the better part of 6 months and had no intentions of giving any men your own age a shot at it. 

But…you hadn’t considered an older man. Like König. 

At that thought, you pushed yourself off the door and kicked your shoes off, intent on taking a shower to hopefully wash these drunken thoughts out of your head. So he’d been nice and walked you to your door, no questions asked, so what? Didn’t make him any different from men your age. 

As you made it to the bathroom, you felt your stomach finally churn for the final time and found your head buried in the toilet. You cursed yourself for not listening to your friends, who apparently knew your own limits better than you did. 

The next time you see König is just a few days later. You walk into the apartment’s gym on the ground floor, and there he is – sitting lifting weights. You pause when you see him, feeling that traitorous flutter in your chest you were sure you puked out that night you had learned his name. 

You watch the way his biceps flex, bulging so large you’re sure not even two of your hands could wrap around the girth of it. There were some scars littering his skin, most of them white and raised from age but a few that still had that new tissue pink color. You also noticed some fading tattoos encircling his forearms. Fuck, he was hot. 

You hung your head and scampered over to the treadmill, intent on getting your cardio up. 

As you run, you notice a group waltz in, laughing and shoving each other. You glance over at them, rolling your eyes when some of them make eye contact and nudge their buddies. They lean in close and whisper to each other with shit eating grins on their faces and you find frustration building up so you try to ignore them. 

“Quiet,” you hear an accented voice snap, full of authority, “You are disturbing everyone.”

The rowdy young men quiet down immediately and clear their throats, “S-Sorry, Colonel,” one of them utters.

‘Colonel? Is that high ranking?’ you find yourself wondering, making a mental note to look that up later. 

Either way, König manages to make the gym peaceful once again and you finish your workout with no other hitches. 

You grab your towel and dab at the sweat on your face and neck as you swiftly make your way out of the gym, completely unaware of the shadow following closely behind. 

You slow to a stop at the elevator, punching the button to call it as you sip on your water bottle, mindlessly going over what else you need to do with your day. The shadow behind you remains stagnant, still and silent as it lurks behind your unsuspecting form as the elevator opens and you step on. 

He follows, hefty weight causing the elevator to groan as usual. That gets your attention and you jump, placing a delicate hand over your racing heart just like you had before, eyes wide in shock at his appearance.

“You’re doing it on purpose now!” you whine at him and he has to fight back a smile at it. 

“I told you that you needed to pay more attention to your surroundings,” he replies smoothly, pressing the 3 button for you before pressing 5 for himself. 

“How is a guy as big as you able to be so quiet?” you ask softly, making note of the floor he lives on. 

“Years of training,” he gives a quick response that you hum at. There is a beat of silence before he finds himself speaking again, “You never gave me your name.”

He sees the way you look at him in surprise and he almost wishes he could rip the words from the air as soon as he says them. He doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea that he actually wants to get to know you. 

But you smile softly and give him your name with a kind nod of your head before the elevator grants him mercy and dings at the arrival on your floor.

“See you around, König,” you say as you step off. 

He doesn’t respond. 

Once back in the safety of your apartment, you find yourself going through the entire interaction in your head over and over again. Your heart races as you think back on him. 

It's as you’re making dinner for yourself that you finally have the coherent thought of revelation that you may have a crush on König. 

The revelation is almost enough to have you groaning out of frustration into the quiet sanctity of your apartment but you manage to refrain. But you can’t deny you don’t quite know what to do about it now. You had sworn off of men but…that was men your own age. König was…older than you, surely at least 15 years your senior, possibly more. You figure it couldn’t hurt to ask him out for some coffee one of these days. 

Except, the next time you see König is almost 2 weeks later. You don’t see hide nor hair of him at all. It definitely puts a damper on your confidence and you almost think your crush was just a fleeting little thing and for that you’re grateful for. 

Until the elevator opens one day and there he is. He’s wearing his hood but his eyes look even more exhausted than usual – beyond the general tiredness that comes with age. You carefully step on, joining him in the downward descent to the lobby. It’s just the two of you and feel that fluttering in your chest start up again and your hands begin to sweat. You scour your brain for something to say — anything to start up a conversation after so long of not seeing him.

“Haven’t seen you around,” you mutter softly. He hums softly in acknowledgement but doesn’t supply much of a response beyond that, “Where have you been?” you try again.

“Deployed,” he finally responds after several seconds of silence. 

You can’t find any way to respond or keep the conversation going but it’s sure that he has no intentions of doing so anyway. Still, it surprised you that he had been deployed, you hadn’t considered that. It made sense now that you thought about it. 

The elevator opened and you both stepped out. He walked much faster than you, beelining out of the apartment and you briefly considered letting him go but another part of you wanted to stop him and ask him out. 

You cursed to yourself and jogged forward, calling his name. He stopped in his tracks at the sound of you calling for him. He looks down at you over his nose, a burning gaze that makes your nervousness spike. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good time after all. 

“What?” he snaps, clearly impatient.

“Oh um…” you clear your throat and slow to a stop, “N-Nevermind…”

He huffs through his nose and resumes storming out of the apartment. You find yourself sighing deeply, following his lead. When you get outside, he’s nowhere to be seen and you once again find yourself wondering how a man of his size is so good at not being seen. 

A few nights later, the weekend rolls around and you find yourself standing in that damned elevator with him once again. He’s maskless and it gives you pause before stepping on. 

It’s silent for a few seconds before he says, “I am sorry for the other day.”

You look up at him with wide eyes, “Um…what do you mean?”

“I was not polite towards you,” he answers, casting a soft gaze towards you that makes your heart flutter, “I took my bad mood out on you and I should not have. So…I am sorry.”

“Oh…” you clear your throat and give him a smile, “it’s alright, König. I shouldn’t have bothered you with something silly.”

He frowns at you, “Something silly?”

“It’s nothing,” you assure him, smiling kindly at him. 

He wants to ask you what you mean but the elevator door opens and you step out, making him realize that you reached your floor. You wave your goodbye to him as the doors close and he lets his head fall back with a sigh once he’s alone.

Yet another bad day weighed heavily on his shoulders when you came waltzing into the elevator, bright eyed and happy. His fists were clenched behind his back and he did his best to avoid looking at you, hoping you would take the hint and not speak to him like you usually did. It hadn’t been but a day since he had apologized to you for making an ass of himself in the lobby and he didn’t want to do the same thing so soon after. 

But then you say something that sends it all crumbling down.

“Hey…” you start, fidgeting your fingers in front of you, “Would you like to get coffee sometime? Maybe lunch?”

You ask it so sweetly and softly. For some reason, that grates on his nerves even more than anything.

“What?” he snaps, cold and sharp in a way that makes you visibly freeze. 

You look up at him like a deer caught in the headlights, “Um…w-well, I just…it’s…I would like to…”

Your nervous babbling only serves to piss him off even more as his glare narrows down on you, making you shrink in on yourself where you stand. Suddenly, the elevator feels much smaller than it had ever before – even with him filling most of the space as usual. 

“You want to go out with me?” he spits, his accent growing stronger with every venomous word that he can’t seem to stop from spilling from his lips, “I am twice your age, what the hell makes you think I would want to date you?”

You swallow thickly around the lump forming in your throat and bite back the tears that threaten to form. He hears you sniffle and promptly snaps his head to look at you. Under the ugly, yellow light of the elevator he can see the tears trickling down your cheeks and he suddenly wants to slap himself into the next decade. 

He wants to open his mouth so badly and apologize for being so cruel to you. He knows he could have told you no in a much softer way rather than making your feelings seem like something revolting or stupid. But the elevator doors open and you’re slipping out before he even has a chance. He decides not to chase after you. 

It’s for the best, he assures himself. 

It only takes a few days before he’s vehemently regretting not stopping you then and there. 

It happens on a Friday night, the elevators are closing just as a hand jumps between them, sending them opening again. You step on, giggling in a way that tells him you’re just a little inebriated. You freeze when you see him standing there, maskless and cold gaze as he watches you tug a young man into the elevator behind you – clearly a little drunk himself. 

You pointedly stand in front of König, keeping your back to him to show that you’re not even willing to look at him. König feels his heart clench painfully in his chest before it’s replaced by a wash of anger as he watches the young man paw at you. He slips his hand down your back to grope at your ass, making you giggle breathlessly before you’re batting his hands away with a little bat of your lashes. 

König wishes he had an excuse to step off the elevator at the same time as you – anything to prolong his time with you. He’s never felt the desire to cockblock someone more in his whole entire life. 

But he doesn’t move. He just watches you step off without a single glance in his direction before you’re vanishing around the corner and the elevator doors close silently, leaving König alone with his thoughts. 

You couldn’t believe you brought this guy to your apartment. You especially couldn’t believe you were letting him strip you of your clothes and paw at your body like some kind of mindless dog. You had sworn to yourself that you were not going to fall into this trap again – a 20-something year old guy buying you a drink, complimenting you a little, teasing and groping you in the club until you caved and brought him home. It wasn’t your first go around – and it always ended the same way.

But you were drunk and you needed to get your mind off that stupid, giant Austrian military man that lived in your building. And wouldn’t you know it, he was on the elevator as soon as you got in. It was almost enough to sober you up, your wounded pride and feelings still so prevalent even after a few days of nursing the hurt. 

You could only hope that this would relieve you of your hurt feelings. 

Unfortunately, you quickly realized that this was a mistake. 

As soon as he started groping you, spreading your legs and trying to stuff his cock inside you without so much as a single finger of prep – you knew this wasn’t going to happen.

You tried to lead him, thinking maybe he was a little too tipsy to actually think about it.

“How about a little prep, hm?” you ask softly.

He pauses what he’s doing and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, “Oh…you’re one of those…”

He says it in disgust and you feel yourself bristle in annoyance, “One of what?”

“You want me to eat you out, right?” he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “That shit’s gross, c’mon just let me stick it in, already.” It was that moment that you felt any minute desire you had to have sex evaporate. 

You don’t even bother walking the guy out, leaving him to limp to the elevator in shame with a hard cock and blue balls.

It takes you a few days to find it in yourself to crawl out of your apartment. The only reason you actually do leave is because you’re in need of food – your little supply of ramen has depleted and you have to bite the bullet. 

After your little shopping trip at the nearby convenience store, you find yourself waiting for the elevator when a dark shadow looms over you. You feel a pit of dread in your stomach as you smell the musky, sweet scent of his cologne. But you don’t dare acknowledge his presence. 

He doesn’t give you long to ignore him, however, before he’s talking to you.

“How was your little date?” he asks, voice dripping in a tone of condescension that immediately puts you on edge. 

“What’s it to you?” you hiss, still not daring to look at him. 

He scoffs, “You went and found yourself a little toy to play with awfully fast. Seems your interest in me wore off quickly, no?”

That gets you to finally turn around, meeting his cold, indifferent gaze with your hot, teary one. You miss the look of surprise that flashes over his face.

“What is your problem?” you snap, “You rejected me, what the hell do you care what I do? And for your information, the date was shit. He was shit, like I should have expected any difference. God, I really am a fucking idiot,” you find yourself rambling, a lamenting spiel that you can’t seem to stop no matter how badly you want to, “Just like every prick before him, he was selfish and revolting. I thought I could finally get fucking laid and just call it a day but no, my stupid standards are too high and I find myself asking out the hot older guy in my building only for him to find me revolting!”

By the time you’re done ranting, the doors open and you storm out of the elevator, angrily gripping your bag of groceries. König is frozen where he stands, watching you leave as the doors slowly close – almost begging him to put his hand between them and stop them so he can chase after you. 

But he doesn’t.

It’s creeping up on midnight when there’s a knock on your apartment door. You’re curled up on the couch, watching some random show that you weren’t really invested in but couldn’t be bothered to change. 

The knock makes you jump, startled, but get up nonetheless. A quick peek in the peephole tells you exactly who it is before you even open it. 

You briefly consider not opening it period but find yourself opening it before you actually settle on a decision. 

König stands in front of you, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand, looking comically small. The sight is almost enough to get you to crack a smile. Almost.

But the residual hurt from the last few interactions you’ve had with him is enough to keep you stoic. You raise a brow and you practically see his confidence falter. A pang of guilt goes through you at the sight and you step aside, waving him in with a quiet huff. 

He closes the door behind him softly, kicking his boots off as he watches you wander into the living room. You take a seat on your couch, covering yourself with your throw blanket once again as you watch him wander in, gazing around at your decor before finally settling on you. 

“Um…” He clears his throat nervously and places the flowers on your coffee table, “I think that we should talk…”

“Should we?” you quip back.

He sighs, broad shoulders heaving with the movement before he takes a seat beside you, taking up a hefty amount of space on your small couch. 

“I want to apologize,” he says softly, folding his hands in his lap, “When you asked me out…I-I should not have spoken to you like that.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, “If that’s all this is about, König, then you can go. I-I don’t really want to hear a half-assed apology about the way you rejected me. You’re not interested, let’s just move on from it. I’ll get over it.”

He shakes his head quickly and curses under his breath, a word you don’t understand – German, your brain supplies, helpfully.

“You are wrong,” he says, “I do not want you to get over it because I am interested.”

The gets you to perk up, eyes wide, “What do you mean? You said you–”

“I know what I said,” he mutters, “I am…twice your age…”

“So you mentioned before…” you reply.

“I do not think…you should be with someone old like me,” he continues softly, “You should be with someone your own age. That is what I thought. It is not that I don’t find you attractive; I think you’re sweet and lovely. But it's just…our age difference…”

“König,” you stop him from continuing, “I’m capable of making my own decisions.”

“I understand that but…” he trails off, casting a sideways glance across the room, away from you.

“I’ve tried dating men my own age, König,” you say, “It always ends the same – I send them home blue balled.”

He huffs out a laugh through his nose and finally sets his gaze back on you, “Why do you do that?”

“I don’t plan to…” you begin, running your hand along the soft fabric of your blanket, “it’s just that...I bring them home and then we start getting into it and it fucking sucks!”

“Sucks..?” The question is soft and drawn out. 

“He wants to fuck my throat and won’t even give me his fingers before trying to stick his dick in,” you spit, angrily glaring at the tv as you remember all your shit encounters, “I’ve never even let one of them go all the way.”

“You’re a virgin…?” he asks.

You shrug your shoulders, “I guess. I mean I’ve had shitty oral and stuff but…”

“I see…” he trails off, shifting in his seat, hands still folded in his lap, “Well, I would like to take you out for a date after all.”

You find a smile spreading across your face faster than you can stop it. You jump to your knees and throw your arms around his shoulders with a squeal of happiness, “Really? You mean it?”

He laughs breathlessly, a husky little sound that makes your heart race, “Does this weekend work for you?”

You eagerly nod your head and lean in. You catch the way his eyes widen briefly before your lips meet. You think he’s going to pull away from you but instead he cups the back of your head and deepens the kiss. 

You feel a shiver go through you at the feeling of his big, strong hand holding you there in the kiss. You couldn’t keep yourself from getting wet even if you wanted to. 

With your hands pressed against his firm chest, you toss one leg over his lap and find yourself seated on top of him. He breaks the kiss at that, hands migrating to your waist where he mindlessly strokes his thumb over the skin exposed by the way your shirt rode up.

You lean down and kiss him again and he groans against your mouth. You grind down against him in response to the throb that makes your pussy clench around nothing. You whimper into the kiss when he suddenly stops your movements with a firm grip. 

“We shouldn’t, liebling,” he whispers softly.

“Why not?” you whine, settling in his lips. You briefly realize that you can feel something hard beneath you and that makes you start dripping in your panties, “Don’t you want to?”

“I-I do…” he assures, “I just…want to properly court you…”

He couldn’t get any sweeter if he tried. Still, you quip back with a teasing little smile, “Wow, you are a lot older than me, huh?”

You feel giddy when the sweet look in his eyes melts away into something darker. One hand clasps the back of your head before he pulls you in for a much rougher kiss. You keen as you feel the way he exudes experience – the kiss like nothing you have ever experienced before. 

The way he moves his lips and slips his tongue into your mouth to taste your mouth, it’s not gross or too much the way it sometimes is with men who don’t know what they’re doing.you find yourself moaning into the kiss before you even realize it. 

He pulls away at that, a heady look in his pretty, blue eyes. You find yourself briefly lamenting the loss of his mouth but that thought disappears quickly when he moves to begin peppering kisses along the length of your neck, making sure to nip at your jaw and kiss your shoulder. 

He tugs the hem of your t-shirt down just a bit so he can have access to your collar bones, nipping and kissing there as well. Your head falls back as you surrender yourself to him completely. 

“Oh,” he coos softly, lips brushing against your ear, “You are just so sweet for me, aren’t you, little one?”

You practically whimper at his words as his hands slip under the hem of your shirt, fingertips barely grazing your skin. You squirm in his lap as his touch tickles you on his way up to your breasts, skirting over your ribs before fully cupping them in his roughened palms. 

You sigh into the quiet room, arching your back to press deeper into his hands. His thumbs graze over your nipples and you moan. 

Sure, you’ve had guys grope your tits before but it had never felt like this. The mindless squishing and squeezing was replaced with soft cupping and gentle brushes over your nipples until they hardened followed by pinches and flicks that left you absolutely dripping in your panties.

He takes mercy on you quickly, one hand sliding down your body to slide under your sweatpants and beneath your panties. Your hands grip his shoulders, blunt nails biting into them when one broad finger slides down, the sticky noise of your folds separating enough to send heat rushing to your cheeks.

“You’re so wet,” he whispers in a tone so soft you almost think it wasn’t meant for you, but then he tacks on, “Do you hear it?” 

“Y-Yeah,” you whimper, embarrassment flooding through you at the sticky, clicking noises that come along with his prodding, “N-Never been this wet before, König…”

That causes him to pause, blue eyes gazing at you through his eyelashes, “Is that so..?” You desperately nod your head, slowly beginning to rock your hips against his hand, but he doesn’t move again and you whine, “Has anyone ever made you cum on their fingers?”

“J-Just me,” you answer breathlessly without a second thought. 

He hums thoughtfully and after a second, he begins moving his hand again. This time he introduces more fingers, spreading your folds apart with his index and ring so he can pet your hardened clit with his middle. The feeling makes tremors run through your body and he huffs a laugh, “I guess I will show you what it feels like then, yeah?”

He doesn’t give you a moment to think let alone answer before his middle finger is sliding into you. The one digit alone is enough to stretch you, given how massive he is in whole. He crooks his finger forward and a moan rips from your chest when he hits that gooey little spot inside you. 

“A-Another, please, König!” you beg shamelessly.

“Shh,” he hushes, shaking his head, “Let me work you open on this and then you can have more.”

You practically wail in despair, letting your forehead drop forward onto his shoulder. You suddenly wish you had rid yourself of your clothes so you could see the way his hand worked against you. All you could see now was the faint movement under your pants but the mental image of that thick finger inside you, slick with your juices was enough to have you clenching desperately around him. 

After a moment, he adds a second finger and you feel like you’re in heaven. The stretch is phenomenal and his palm bumps against your clit every time he sinks them into the last knuckle. 

However, before he can set a rhythm to really start getting you off, he stops. You angrily lean back and glare at him – the sight has his lips quirking up.

“Ride my fingers,” he orders you, leaving no room for arguing.

You can tell he’s not going to give you anything unless you take it for yourself so you sit up higher on your knees so you can have the clearance to move. Your hands remain on his shoulders, clinging to him for stability as you clumsily begin to rock your hips. The only time you’ve ever done these movements is when you tried humping your pillow once after seeing it in some porn. It didn’t really do much for you so you never tried again. 

König can tell your movements are clumsy and it makes his cock throb against his thigh. He helps you along, crooking his fingers just right to grind the tips against that sweet little spot inside you. It makes you moan beautifully and he files the noise away. 

His other hand comes up to grip your hip, steadying you as you continue to hump his fingers. You’re growing more and more frustrated as you quickly realize that you’re not able to make it feel as good as he had earlier. The tearful little gaze you give him has him breaking, using the hand on your hip guiding you into more seamless movements. 

“Like this, liebling,” he directs softly, “Grind down like that, mhm, give that little clit some love, yeah?”

You become increasingly breathless as you work yourself higher and higher under his expert guidance. He can feel your juices dripping down his wrist, the snug hold around his fingers growing even tighter with every little rut of your hips. 

“You’re so precious,” he coos, feeling the way you clench up at the sound of his voice. Your body is so honest, telling him what you like without you having to say anything, “You’re going to cum, I can feel it. Be good and give it to me, yeah?”

You surge forward and desperately kiss him, one hand reaching down and gripping his wrist. It takes only a few more, desperate thrusts of your hips for you to topple over that edge. Your body trembles on his lap and you cry out in pleasure. 

He moans alongside you, watching with rapt attention as you cum all over his fingers just like he told you to.

You slump against him as you come down and he pulls his hands out of your pants. He presses a kiss against your temple in silent praise, hands rubbing your back to soothe you through the aftershocks that run through your body.

You lean back and meet his gaze, an opportunity he takes to slip his cum-soaked fingers into his mouth. At that, you surge forward and kiss him, running your hands down his body to pull at the button of his jeans. He grunts into your mouth, brows furrowing at the release of pressure when you tug the zipper down.

You’re absolutely speechless when you finally pull his cock free. He watches in poorly concealed pride as you gawk at the length in your hand. You give him a slow and tedious tug, watching the foreskin roll over his head, forcing a bead of precum from the tip. 

“You’re so…big,” you whisper breathlessly.

“I know,” he grunts, unable to hide the ebbs of pleasure you give him as you play with his cock.

“Cocky,” you tease softly, continuing with your soft touches. 

“N-Not cocky,” he whispers, licking his suddenly dry hips, “Just aware of my size.”

You drop your eyes back down to his cock, hot and heavy in your hand. Your fingers don't even touch each other when wrapped around him. Precum drips from the tip, leaking down the side to meet your palm and aid in the movements. 

He leans his head back against the couch, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows. It wasn’t often that he got to indulge in someone else’s hand. Your palm was so soft, much softer than his own, and delicate in your inexperience. 

He reaches down with one his hands, wrapping around yours to make you squeeze tighter, “Just like that, little one, that’s how I like it.”

You could have drooled as he said it. His hand dwarfed yours and the sight made you clench around nothing, more slick leaking into your already ruined panties. 

“Let me see you, liebling,” he whispers breathlessly, fingers hooking on the hem of your top.

You release his cock to lift your arms, letting him tug the fabric over your head. His hands are on your tits immediately, mouthing at your nipples without wasting a second.

“So pretty,” he coos with his mouth full, rolling his tongue over your nipple before nipping the bud with his lips.

He switches to the other one, wrapping his mouth around it, sucking sharply before pulling back, taking your nipple with him before releasing it with a pop. You watch with lidded eyes as he drools all over your tits. His cock flexes and twitches against your thigh as he plays with your tits.

Suddenly, with a firm grip on your waist, your whole world flips and you find yourself on your back on the couch with König on top of you. You lick your lips at the sight of his big, broad form hovering above you, caging you in as he leans down to kiss you again.

You sigh contentedly into his mouth, threading your fingers through his short, messy hair, using the grip to pin him against you. He lets you kiss him to your heart's content, only pulling back when you need air – a string of spit connecting your lips that breaks when he leans back between your thighs. 

His fingers took into the band of your pants, tugging them down, taking your panties with them until you’re completely bared before him. He’s still completely clothed aside from his cock that rests against his abdomen, occasionally twitching as his eyes rake over your nude body.

“Tell me, liebling,” he says, strong hands running up the length of your thighs, “Has anyone ever eaten you out?”

You clumsily nod your head.

“Was it good?” he asks, biting back a smile when you shake your head.

“Guys always think it’s gross or something…” you whisper softly.

He hums softly, “That is because you’ve been messing with stupid little boys.”

“You gonna eat me out, König?” you ask him, biting your lip in a poorly concealed excited grin.

“Would you like me to?” as he asks, he slowly spreads your legs open. The position causes your folds to spread apart, opening you up for his greedy eyes.

You feel your breathing speed up as he kisses down your body, starting with your lips and ending right above your clit. You feel the little bud twitch in anticipation as he tongues the skin above it, giving you a sneak peek on what is so close to it. 

“Tell me,” he says.

You whine, “Y-Yes, I want you to eat me out, König!”

He chuckles softly but doesn’t bother teasing you anymore. He meets your gaze and moves his tongue lower finally, sliding the flat of the muscle of your clit. You gasp and toss your head back into the cushions, eyes rolling back as he noisily slurps at your cunt. 

“O-Oh god!” you wail, hiccuping out noises of pleasure that you can’t seem to quiet.

König is in heaven. It’s not every day that he gets the opportunity to eat such a pretty, inexperienced little cunt. Your reactions to everything are so strong and loud. Your pussy is loud too, squelching in the room, making an intoxicating melody with your moans. He moans against you, swallowing down everything your messy little pussy drools out for him.

“Th-That feels so good, König!” you sob, kicking your feet mindlessly against his back as he captures your clit in his mouth, suckling at the bud, “You’re so good, so good, oh god!”

Never in a million years did you think being eaten out could feel this good. The mindlessly, halfhearted licks and kisses you had received in the past did nothing to prepare you for what it felt like to really have a man’s tongue on you. 

He pulls away suddenly, giving you a moment to actually breathe, “You taste so sweet, liebling.”

“König…” you whimper, looking up at him with lidded eyes, “Please, please don’t stop.”

You tug at his hair and attempt to pull his mouth back down on your pussy. You don’t care how pathetic and desperate it is, he has given you a taste of pleasure you’d never experienced before.

He has the audacity to laugh at you, brushing your hands away so he can sit up straight again. He scoots closer and you realize then that he is not planning to continue and it practically draws a sob out of you. 

“We can focus on that another time, liebling,” he promises, making you clench around nothing, more slick dribbling out for him to see, “You are so messy, you know that? Never had someone make such a mess all over me before. You must really enjoy being eaten out, huh?”

You feel your face burn hot with shame at his words, shyly hiding your face away. He smiles softly at that, “Nothing to be ashamed of, liebling…I love it, I do.”

“Really?” you quiver out the question and he nods his head.

“Yes, little one,” he coos, “I’m glad that I can make it feel good for you.”

You practically feel hearts in your eyes as he says that. You don’t think you’ve ever had a man tell you that he actually cared and enjoyed your pleasure. That was the final nail in the coffin for you – you really should have been going after older men all this time.

He disrupts your thoughts by suddenly stripping his shirt off. Your mouth goes completely dry at the sight of his bared skin – firm muscle, hair speckled all over his torso, and numerous scars from untold stories of his time in the military. You take note of the faded tattoos that become visible on his pecs and biceps; you’d always noticed the tattoos on his arms but you’d never really been given the opportunity to look. 

“You’re so handsome,” you whisper.

He pauses while ridding himself of his jeans and smiles, “Thank you, little one.”

When he’s completely bare to you, you slowly rake your eyes down the entirety of his newly exposed body. His cock hangs heavy under its own weight, glimmering at the tip with his precum. You’d never been with a guy who was uncut but the sight made you drool. 

“Now, liebling,” he says suddenly, getting your attention. He scoots closer, spreading your legs as wide as he can before laying the hefty weight of his cock against your cunt. It’s hot and throbbing and your entire body trembles at the sight, “You have to understand something.”

“What..?” you ask, breathless and unable to look away from his cock. 

“I am not like those little boys you were running around with,” he explains, hips slowly beginning to rut against you, length parting your folds and rubbing over your clit, drawing a sweet little moan from you, “I don’t stick my cock in a tight little cunt and blow my load, do you know what I’m saying?”

You shake your head, too lost in the sight and feeling of him practically fucking the outside of your pussy. He doesn’t stop the mind-numbing rolls of his hips, letting you get lost in the feeling of him stroking over your clit, saturating him in your cum. 

“That means,” he sighs, reaching up to grip your throat, forcing you to look at him as he leaned over your body, sandwiching his cock between the two of you, “I don’t cum easily, liebling. I am a grown man, I will fuck you until you cannot cum anymore. Are you prepared for that?”

The fact this man was so confident in his abilities in bed has you clenching around nothing again. You were sure the guys you almost slept with would never have been able to have the pure confidence that came from König. He knew what he was doing – he knew how to make you cum and he was going to use that experience well. You knew his age played a factor in how long it would take him to cum and you couldn’t wait to experience it.

“I want it so bad, König,” you beg softly, “Please?”

“Very good,” he praised, “You’re so good for me.”

He finally gripped the base of his cock and you watched excitedly as he pressed the tip against your entrance. You reached down and wrapped your arms around your knees, pulling them back for him so he could comfortably begin pressing into you.

The stretch is beyond anything you’d ever felt before. You knew his cock was big but watching the bulbous tip press against you and slowly spread you wide open was something else entirely. It burned in a way that had you wincing, furrowed brows making your face pinch up, making König pause. 

“It’s okay, little one,” he whispers, bringing a big thumb up to roll over your hard little clit, “Just relax for me, don’t clench up or it will hurt more.”

“I-It’s so big, König!” you wail helplessly, tearily staring up at him as he methodically works you open on his cock.

“I know,” he assures, still stroking your clit with the pad of his thumb, “But you can take it.”

You tearfully nod your head and do your best to relax your body, letting yourself sink into the couch. 

“Good, liebling, very good,” he coos, “Just let me in, nice and slow. Doesn’t it feel nice? The little burn of being stretched open but the pleasure of having this pretty little clit played with? Just lay back and enjoy it, little one.”

He’s right, of course. The burn aches, yes, but the pain and pleasure mixes the more he rubs your clit. You clench around him, an involuntary reaction that causes the head of his cock to finally pop in. Your eyes widen as you watch your cunt swallow it and with a perfectly timed tap against your clit, your back arches and you’re cumming.

“O-Oh König!” you squeal, eyes rolling back into your head as you cum around the head of his cock and nothing else.

“Oh, that’s good,” he grins, “That’s perfect, little one.”

As you come down with a tremble in your thighs, you finally fix your gaze on him once again.His eyes are lidded and pupils are blown so wide you can’t even tell they’re blue anymore. 

“That looked like a good one,” he comments almost flippantly before he rolls his hips forward, “Now you’re nice and ready for me.”

You choke on a gasp as he rolls his hips forward, fitting half of his cock inside your still spasming cunt. Your cum coats him in a slick sheen that aides in allowing him to pull back and slide back in, settling on fucking you on half his cock.

Your mouth falls open and you watch as a thick, milky ring forms around that fat middle part of his shaft, “M-More, König! Please!”

He knows you want all of him, want to know what it’s like to feel all of him stuffed deep inside you. But he knows you’re not quite ready for that yet, fucked out of your head from the intense orgasm he had just given you with ease.

“Not yet, liebling,” he coos, keeping his pace slow and steady, “Let’s work you open a little bit more, yeah?”

“No,” you whine, “Please, I want it all, König.”

“Aww, I know you do, little one,” he pants, already feeling dizzy from spearing you on his cock, “But I know what’s good for you, just listen to me and be good, okay?”

“Okay…” you pitifully whimper, sinking back into the couch. 

You abandon your hold on your legs, letting them rest around his hips limply now. He continues moving like that, inching deeper and deeper into you with every thrust. Your cunt makes embarrassingly loud squishing noises the move he works his hips against you. 

Before you know it, you’re watching with wide eyes and an open mouth as his pelvis presses against yours. Your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl in pure pleasure as you finally experience the entirety of everything König has to offer. 

You’re speared wide open and the head knocks against your cervix painfully but the little bit of pain only makes the pleasure that much sweeter. 

“There we go, little one,” he coos sweetly, “I’m so proud of you, took all of my cock so well.”

He’s so big that he presses against every sweet little spot inside you without even trying. But, oh, his experience is crystal clear in the way he moves. He may be naturally gifted with a nice, fat cock but he knew how to use it.

Seamless, rhythmic thrusts had your brain going fuzzy before you even knew what was happening. You wouldn’t have been able to be quiet even if you wanted to. You knew you would be absolutely horrified to face your neighbors later because it would be impossible for them to not know you got fucked real good. 

Suddenly, König leaned over you, resting one forearm above your head to hold his weight off of you. The position caused his pelvis against your clit every time he sunk balls deep. Sticky strings of your cum stuck to his skin but he didn’t seem to even notice how wet you were.

But, oh, he did. He was absolutely obsessed with the way you creamed and gushed around him. A nice, pliant little pussy that was more than eager to swallow every inch of his cock.

The change in position had you grappling onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you wailed into his shoulder. Every mind-numbing snap of his hips hit that gooey, tender spot inside you that had your entire body twitching from the pleasurable stimulation. Your nails bit into his back and he briefly thought about the prospect of his recruits seeing them. 

“Are you going to cum for me?” he whispered in your ear, pressing a sweet kiss underneath your ear.

You nod your head, “Y-Yes! You’re gonna make me c-cum again, König!”

He chuckles under his breath, “I know I am, little one. I’m going to make you squirt.”

“C-Can’t,” you heave, twitchy legs kicking against his back.

“Yes, you can,” he assures, leaning away to sit up once again, “I can make you squirt, trust me.”

The whine you emit pitches into a squeal when he presses his palm against your lower stomach. You reached down in a panic to grab his wrist, not used to the strange feeling of him pressing down while he fucks you. 

“W-Wait!” you wail.

“Wait for what?” he asks, but doesn’t slow even a bit in his movements.

“F-Feels weird!” you gasp, hiccuping as you squeeze his wrist. 

“I know,” he grunts, brows furrowing at the feeling of you clenching around him, “It’s supposed to. Just lay back and let it happen, liebling. I’ve got you.”

Your whole body trembles and your jaw drops as you meet his gaze, a look of wonder crossing your face as you feel an orgasm like you’ve never felt before crash over your body. It’s long, drawn out and almost painful from how good it feels. You squeeze tight around him, your clit twitching and pulsing, completely untouched as he makes you squirt. It splashes against his abdomen and drips down his thighs. 

“There we go,” he laughs, a sound that sends a flush of embarrassment to your face, “See? I told you you could do it.”

“König…” you slur, feeling as if you’ve been fucked completely braindead.

It finally dawned on you that you would never, ever be fucked by anyone as good as König has fucked you. The first cock you’ve ever been stuffed full of and he made you squirt with terrifying ease. You were completely ruined, no dick would ever be able to compare to his. 

He sees the way your gaze turns completely enamored, looking at him like he hung the moon and stars. He grins, sharp canines poking out as he leans down again, kissing your temple.

“What is it, baby?” he coos, “Dick so good it’s got you in love?”

You keen at the pure condescension that drips from his voice. But he’s not wrong, you can practically feel the hearts in your eyes as you gaze up at him.

You have no idea how long you’ve been pinned beneath him, speared open on his cock while he fucks you absolutely stupid. You notice the change in him quite suddenly. His deep, concentrated thrust changed into something less calculated, messy almost. He loses his rhythm and falters in his pace.

“I’m going to cum, liebling,” he grunts, tone pitchy and gruff, “Where do you want it?”

“Inside!” you immediately cry, not missing a beat. He sees your eyes light up at the prospect of being filled up completely by his cum. You’re so sure it’s going to be a lot, you want to feel it drip out of you as a reminder that he had claimed you.

“Is it safe?” he huffs, but you can feel his cock twitch inside you at the idea of cumming inside you.

You desperately nod your head and he allows himself to fall over that edge. He teeters on his knees before collapsing with his hands on either side of your head. He no longer tries to thrust, settling for desperate, deep grinds that stirs his cock within your walls. Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling, another orgasm washing over you before you even realize you’re that close.

“Oh, fuck,” König gasps, voice breaking as your orgasm sends him over the edge.

You’re panting and whimpering, trembling as you feel the heat of his load filling you up. His cock twitches with every spurt of cum. It’s the best orgasm he’s had in a long time, his balls throbbing with every pump of cum his cock spits out. 

It oozes from around the tight seal you have around him, dripping onto the couch. He’s trembling by the time the intense orgasm comes to an end. He opened his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them, to see you sleepily staring up at him with a dazed smile on your lips.

“Mein Gott…” he huffs out, lowering his body to press his lips against yours sweetly, “That was incredible, liebling.”

You beam under his praise and wrap your arms around his neck, “It was, wasn’t it?”

He chuckles and strokes his thumb against your cheek, “Let’s get cleaned up, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” you agree.

The care he gives you afterwards is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. He wipes your body down gently, careful not to rub your skin too hard. He stands with you in the shower, towering over you as he lathers your exhausted body with soap. 

“Can we do that again sometime?” You ask softly when he crawls into bed beside you – which you were shocked about, but didn’t complain.

He raises a brow and chuckles, “Yes, liebling. But not right now, I could not go another round so soon.”

You giggle and snuggle into his broad chest, practically preening when he wraps you up snug against him. You sigh softly and speak up again, “Can we…still go on that date..?”

He’s quiet for a moment before you feel a kiss on the top of your head, “Of course, liebling. I would love to.”

You smile to yourself and close your eyes, content to fall asleep wrapped up in his arms. The last thing you feel before you succumb to sleep is another soft kiss against your head. You realize, sleepily, that you’ve never felt more cared for by a man in your life.

property of rowarn; do not modify, repost, or translate.

[popacorn]

Poppy: "This is Branch's Bunker.... He built this for you guys."

John Dory: "I didn't know"

Poppy: "I guess you never asked"

he's not the only one, poppy

[popacorn]

I’m sorry but it’s absolutely hilarious and yet adorable how the series handles Broppy’s relationship. First we get them traveling together as rivals (which was a bit more one- sided on Branch’s part) before slowing learning how to work together and to change for the other. Also it’s heavily implied Branch has an underline crush on Poppy. Then we get True Colors, and everyone thinks “okay they’re in love now”.

Some people/audience members are on board, others not so much. BUT THEN it turns out that the “I love you” they say to each other was a PLATONIC love confession. Like “you’re my friend, and I value you.” Which is still sweet, but was unexpected. (Though it does explain why the writers decided to put another platonic love confession scene between Bridget and Poppy. Yeah, I get it now)

So they just go through the journey as bffs who have feelings for each other but won’t say anything. And again, they learn how to work and grow together as a team and make the necessary changes to benefit the other. And then FINALLY we get the romantic love confession.

But it doesn’t stop there, oh no. Now we get adventure #3, this time with them as a full on couple. And they are actually really cute. Actually the film doesn’t focus that much on their relationship but we see hints of how they are as a couple.

Poppy is still all over the place but she’s much less in her own head and far more open to listening and being a good girlfriend.

Branch on the other hand is still occasionally getting exasperated by her energy but this time also has an appreciation for it. Also he learns to open up to her a little more and she’s there to listen and accept him with open arms. (Bonus points to their flirty dynamic because wow. They were adorable here.)

And it’s ONLY THEN (7 years after the first film) when they get their first on screen kiss.

Anyway. In conclusion: Trolls is the slowest slow burn I have ever seen in a Dreamworks trilogy.

[popacorn]

I redesigned them a little! I had a lot of fun drawing these two!! also, I can’t help but imagine Branch with a bow;;

[popacorn]

Every Breath You Take

Pairing: Michael Myers x Reader (afab but no pronouns used I don’t think)

Category: stalker romance (??), smut (!!)

Summary: It shouldn’t exhilarate you so much knowing a serial killer was stalking you. But you just can’t help yourself.

Warnings: smut, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, dry humping, biting, licking, creampie, overstimulation, motorboating, pain as pleasure, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, choking, scent kink, multiple orgasms, nipple play, over the clothes handjob, under the clothes handjob, slight dubcon (only because Michael doesn’t talk but I tried to make it as clear as possible that they just want to fuck each other), stalking, mentions of injuries and blood, mentions of murder, breaking and entering, morally questionable reader, mask is on and off, lights stay off during sex, virgin Michael, a little dark I guess (??)

Word count: 6.4k

A/N: For those who love masked men (aka me). For those who want to fuck slashers (aka me). For those who love the quiet type (aka me). For those who love a tall man (aka me). For those who love a strong man (aka me). I wrote this for me basically. I don’t think there’s much of an audience for Michael Myers fics within my followers but hopefully it reaches the right side of Tumblr :)

It was probably disgusting how much it excited you knowing he watched you every day.

He'd stand in your back yard each night, totally still, and just look through your windows for hours. And then, when he was satisfied you assumed, he'd leave. But he always came right back the next day at the same time.

When you'd first noticed him, you'd been terrified. Naturally. You knew exactly who he was, you watched the news and heard stories. And the white mask and blue coveralls were unmistakable. You'd seen him through your window and locked all of the doors immediately. Then you waited. Patiently.

You didn't know what you were waiting for. Him to kill you... or to defend yourself. Your chances of survival were slim, he was inhumanly strong from what you'd heard. But you clutched a knife in your hand nonetheless, mirroring him in a strange way, in case you did suddenly have to fight him off.

Luckily, it never came down to that dilemma as he left a couple of hours later without even a step closer to your back door. You blinked and he was gone.

He came back the next night and did the same thing. And then the next night. And the next. And the next. Until it became a ritual.

You went about your evening and he watched. You always wondered whether he watched you during the day as well but you'd never noticed him. You also wondered what it was about you that didn't make him murder you straight away.

You were older than his usual victims, sure. And he supposedly liked to commit most of his crimes whilst his victims were in the middle of sexual acts and you didn't tend to have many visitors over. But then what was making him fixate on you?

You just couldn't figure it out.

It got to a point where you were less scared of him and more intrigued. Having him stand and stare was getting boring, you wanted to know why. No. You craved knowing why. But you couldn't ask him. You'd heard he wasn't fond of talking.

So what were you supposed to do? Just let it carry on? That was your only choice.

But things changed one evening.

When he appeared something didn't seem quite right. For one, he was seven minutes later than usual. And his left shoulder slumped forward with all of his weight placed onto his right leg.

He was injured.

And you couldn't help but feel bad for him.

So, like an insane person, you unlocked your door and opened it for him.

As you stood in the doorway staring at him, you noticed him straighten up. As if he were surprised. But you knew the man didn't show emotions, much less any that would display him being caught off guard in any way. So you put it down as your imagination or a trick of the moonlight.

But you left your door open. An invitation. Like he needed one of those.

He didn't move so you left the doorway and went to retrieve your first aid kit from the cupboard above the sink. And by the time you'd found it and turned back around, Michael Myers was standing about a foot into your kitchen.

You stared at him for a second, unsure of the emotions turning in your stomach. "Close the door. It's cold outside."

You really didn't know if you could afford to be giving him orders but considering he hadn't murdered you in the months he'd been watching you, you thought that you were probably safe until you'd at least bandaged up whatever wounds hid beneath the blue jumpsuit.

Not sticking around to see if he did it, you walked to your lounge and put a lamp on. His footsteps were silent so you kept an eye on the archway where he'd emerge from the kitchen. Which he did a few seconds later.

"Sit on the couch."

Surprisingly, he did as he was told. But you thought you might be pushing your luck so you stopped telling him to do things.

As he sat down, not relaxed in the slightest with the best posture you'd ever seen, you realised that getting a wounded man to sit on your nice furniture was probably a bad idea. What if he got blood everywhere? Too late now. You weren't going to ask him to move.

You moved towards him slowly, trying not to spook him. He still had a knife clutched in his hand after all. It was bloodstained. You ignored it.

Michael watched you closely, his head didn't move but you could feel his gaze through the dark eyeholes of the mask. It didn't escape your notice that he was still extremely tall even when sat down.

"What's hurt?"

It was a stupid question, you could see where blood was seeping through his clothes and the slashes in the fabric was clear. But given your very recent history of poor choices, an obvious question seemed like the least of your worries.

He didn't respond anyway. No finger point, no head tilt, no shrug. Not a single inch of his body moved apart from his chest from his breathing. If you couldn't see his inhales and exhales then you'd think he was some sort of dummy or mannequin.

"Have you got a shirt on underneath the jumpsuit?"

Why were you still asking questions?

He still said nothing, which you expected, but he did raise a hand to pop the first couple buttons open to reveal a grey t-shirt under the blue coveralls.

You sighed and nodded. "Um, you're going to need to- to undo a few more buttons. So I can get to your shoulder."

The blood stain was getting bigger and staining his clothes a deep purple.

He tilted his head to the side at you, the most emotion he'd shown so far. But he did as he was told again and then pushed the suit down his arms so it lowered to his waist. You didn't fail to notice how the grey t-shirt clung to him nicely, maybe a size or two too small, and displayed every inch of rippling muscle that covered him. Explained his inhuman strength.

You took a few supplies from the kit and started cleaning up the injury on his shoulder, careful to avoid staring at how his sleeve stretched against his bicep.

When you noticed him staring at you from the corner of your eye, you cleared your throat and pulled away again to distract yourself with looking for other injuries. Which was a fine idea until you realised that blood was dripping from beneath the rubber that adorned his face.

You went to lift the edge of the mask, no intention of taking it off, but his large hands gripped your wrists before you even had the chance. The knife was suddenly forgotten on the cushion of the couch.

You gasped in pain, his hold was tight, but didn't pull away. Trying your hardest to meet his eyes as best you could, you attempted to explain. "I'm not going to take it off but I need to get to your neck. You're bleeding. Lift the mask to your chin and hold it there so I can clean your neck."

There were a few tense moments of heavy breathing from him before he let go and did as you said. He was too agreeable, very out of character from all of the stories you'd heard about him. Were people wrong? Or was he acting differently than usual? How were you supposed to know?

You shook the thoughts from your head and got on with cleaning him up. You couldn't find the source of the blood so assumed it must've been coming from higher up on his face. But you weren't going to ask him to lift the mask anymore. You were a risk taker, if the night was any indication of that, but you didn't have a death wish. Mostly.

"Done." You mumbled and stepped back a few paces, looking down to clean away all of your supplies.

By the time you looked up he was standing again fully clothed.

"You going to kill me now finally?" There was a hint of laughter in your voice. If he did you wouldn't blame him. You probably deserved it after inviting a serial killer into your home and treating him like his own personal nurse.

He didn't respond, just turned and left the room. And by the time you got to the kitchen to follow him out, he was gone and the back door was shut and locked like he'd never even been there.

"See you tomorrow night then." You grumbled to yourself, assuming he'd return as he usually did.

And he did.

Uninjured this time. To your relief and, honestly, slight disappointment. There was really something very wrong with you.

But the routine returned to normal. Michael Myers would appear in your back yard every night at the same time and watch you for hours with no sign of even attempting to enter your house to murder you. And he'd leave when he was done watching whatever he sought out from you.

The initial thrill you'd had knowing he liked watching you had disappeared quickly after you'd realised there was less danger than you'd expected. And the fact that you could get so much closer to him was more exciting than anything else.

The idea of him being inside your house again played on your mind constantly, rolling around in there as regularly as a forbidden fantasy. And maybe it was. But surely you weren't fantasising about Michael Myers... right?

Perhaps the memory of his muscles and his height, just his sheer size even, plagued your brain way more often than was considered normal. The thought that he could probably just snap you in two with his large hands and impossible strength if he chose to, how easy it would be for him to break in and end your life on his will. But he chose not to.

That set your nerves alight.

So you turned your nights into a staring contest.

He'd stand in your back yard and stare into your window. You'd stand in your kitchen and stare out of your window.

And you slowly got more daring. You began to retire to bed earlier, going upstairs to your bedroom and changing right in his direct view. It was one of the few times he moved, tilting his head up slightly to see you better through the mask.

You didn't give him a full show, knowing it probably wasn't what he wanted. He liked to kill "promiscuous" people after all. But it was enough to give him an idea, a way to tease him. It was entertaining for you at least, even if he wasn't bothered.

But then one night when you noticed that he was a few feet closer to your house, you realised it was probably working.

He was tempted.

Whether it was to kill you or to do something else, you weren't sure. But you were exhilarated either way.

When he returned obviously injured again a few nights later, you sighed to yourself in annoyance. Yes, you were excited he'd be in your house again. But out of need, not want. You still unlocked your door and left it open for him as you waited in the lounge nevertheless.

When he emerged from the dark archway between your kitchen and your lounge, you looked him up and down. His stance was better than last time but he was covered in more blood. You deduced that it probably wasn't his.

"Sit." You whispered hoarsely. "Please."

Like manners were going to affect whether he killed you or not.

It went pretty much the same as the time before, cleaning the blood from him as best you could and bandaging up what was easy to access. He didn't flinch or wince, not even at the stuff that made your toes curl just from touching.

It wasn't until you were just finishing off spreading some antibacterial lotion on a gash on his thigh that you noticed he was breathing heavier than usual. You looked up at him and frowned, confused. But when he gave you no indication as to why he was suddenly almost hyperventilating, you shrugged it off and reached for a band-aid. As you glanced towards the wound to get an idea of the size you'd need for it, you realised what was wrong.

"Oh."

He was hard.

"Oh."

The prominent bulge in his crotch wasn't shy in showing you that it was there. He was big, to say at the very least.

Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times before you settled on a reassurance. "It's okay. This happens. Especially when someone is touching you a lot."

You figured this was the most he'd been touched in over a decade.

"I'll just uh..." You stood up to step away from him but he launched his arm forward to grab you by the wrist, not letting you go any further.

"Michael..."

He answered you by tugging your body into his lap, legs straddling either side of his thighs. You made sure not to settle your weight onto him, very conscious of what that could lead to.

But he had other ideas.

He planted both of his large hands on either side of your waist and pushed you to sit fully against him. And there was a lot to sit against.

You bit your tongue to prevent any noise coming out. What now? What did he expect?

His breathing was shaky as he surveyed you through the small eyeholes of his mask, hands hovering over your sides for a second.

You couldn't deny that this position, this close proximity, was turning you on. Especially feeling how hard he was pushed up against you.

He seemed to decide what he wanted to do next as his fists gripped the fabric of your pyjama shirt, suddenly tearing it open so buttons flew everywhere and then ripping it off of you and tossing it to a darkened corner of the room. His hands didn't hesitate it exploring the new uncovered areas of skin, his rough callouses against your soft flesh. He was clearly enjoying this new adventure as he appeared to grow impossibly harder beneath you. Lots of him was impossible.

The clasp he had on your breasts was almost painful but your eyes rolled back in pleasure nevertheless. You liked that he was manhandling you, the strength you'd been fantasising about since day one finally being used on you.

His hands slid down your sides until they met your hips, fingers digging in and pulling them against his. A choked moan escaped your mouth drowning out the sound of his own grunt. When Michael decided that he seemed to like that, he did it again. Rougher this time. And quicker. Then he set a pace doing it over and over again. Your hands flew to his shoulders to give yourself something to hold onto, some grounding. Because this was more than you could handle.

How could something so simple feel so good?

The feeling of his coveralls rubbing against you through the thin material of your sleep shorts was heavenly. That, mixed with his hardness pushing against you in all the right place meant you were in pure ecstasy.

The uncontrollable noises leaving you would've been embarrassing if it weren't for the fact that this was the best you'd ever felt. And you hadn't even had sex. Yet.

Barely a sound left Michael, just the occasionally short groan to go along with his heavy breathing.

You couldn't quite tell where he was looking until his head suddenly snapped down and his eyes clearly fixated on where your breasts were bouncing with the rapid movement of the two of you rocking against each other. A slightly louder noise left him then.

There was no rest for you, even if your legs did grow tired and you ran out of breath because he wouldn't let you stop moving. You knew you were probably creating a wet patch on his clothes and that would only grow bigger when he finally came. You were surprised he was lasting this long to be honest. For someone who had been locked up most of his life and hadn't had any sexual experience, he had some stamina in him. But maybe he wasn't a virgin. Was your assumption wrong?

You didn't get time to dwell on it as his arm suddenly locked around your waist and he stopped the two of you. Looking down at him, he was almost the perfect picture of composure. Just some heavy breathing indicated what the two of you had been up to. You couldn't imagine you looked quite as calm.

The arm around you stiffened as he titled the two of you to the side.

"What are you doi- woah." The room was plunged into darkness as he switched the lamp off and then pulled you tight against him again. "Why did you- oh."

Your unfinished question was answered with the sound of rubber hitting the floor penetrating your ears and the feeling of Michael's breath against your skin. You didn't get the chance to question him further as to why he did that as he immediately buried his face in the valley of your breasts and rocked your hips against his to get the friction going again, his free hand rubbing up and down your thigh as the two of you moved.

You bit your bottom lip, extremely happy that he hadn't decided to just stop and leave, that this was still going. The happiness only extended when he licked a drop of sweat off of your skin and you almost screamed. But you couldn't imagine if was the kind of screaming he was used to so you bit your tongue.

Trying to adjust to the sudden absence of light by blinking, but having little success, you looked down to where you imagined Michael's head would be. You saw nothing. Naturally, the only solution to that was to move your hands up his shoulders, up his neck and into his hair. As you curled your fingers into the locks, you were pleasantly surprised to find how soft it was.

You would've smiled or giggled to yourself if he hadn't chosen that exact moment to bite into your collarbone and thrust up underneath you. Your response of tugging on his hair seemed to go down well as he did it again.

"Fuck." You whined against the top of his head, eyes scrunching shut.

That caught Michael's attention, his head pulling back and his free hand abandoning your thigh to wrap around the front of your neck, squeezing slightly when situated there.

You knew what he was doing. Mixing what he usually found pleasurable with this new experience. You wondered whether it was getting him off even more. If the way he was practically throbbing beneath you was any indication, then yes.

This added element of danger sent a shiver down your spine and an intense pulse to your core, making you rock against him without any prompting from him at all. You could still breathe but you knew he could stop that at any second if he chose to.

A breathless moan rumbled from the back of your throat as he squeezed your neck tighter, the arm locked around your waist pushing you against him even harder.

You were so close. So, so close. You chased your high like it was running away from you, rubbing yourself against him as roughly as you could. But there was no need.

Because when Michael leaned forward again to lick a long strip up from your left breast to your neck and then bit you, hard, it was like you saw the pearly gates of heaven. Or the fiery descent to hell.

Your orgasm crashed over you in hot waves as you collapsed against him, forcing his body to hit the back of the couch as your forehead met his and you gasped into his mouth, lips almost grazing but not quite meeting. Your grasp on his hair was tight, tugging on the roots like they were your lifeline. Your naked chest pressed against his clothed one, and that combined with the slight pain of the hair pulling was enough for Michael to come underneath you.

You could feel him twitching against you, only making you shudder against him more, as the wet patch on his jumpsuit grew as you predicted. The quietest extended groan left his mouth as he tensed beneath you, arms locking around you. His hips bucked up against yours a few times weakly before he grew limp.

You rested for a moment, trying to gain some strength back in your shaking legs, before you pushed off of him and stood up. Feeling around in the air for the lamp, you covered your eyes before switching it back on.

"Find your mask and put it back on." You instructed, waiting a moment for him to do so.

He didn't make any noise as he moved, as usual, and the only indication you had that he was done was the looming feeling of his presence in front of you and the sound of his exhales rattling the rubber that adorned him.

You uncovered your eyes and squinted against the sudden light, looking up to find Michael almost chest to chest with you. Well, head to chest. He was very tall after all.

Your gaze flickered down to his left hand which was slightly extended towards you. He was holding your pyjama shirt. The one he'd ruined by ripping all of the buttons off.

"Oh, thanks." You took it from him and put it back on, holding it together at the front by crossing your arms against your chest.

Probably a bad idea considering this position made the top gape open and your breasts push together to create an exaggerated cleavage. Michael didn't seem to mind as he lifted his right hand and traced a finger across the swell of your breasts for a moment before dropping his arm back to his side again.

You dropped your eyes away in embarrassment, and slight arousal, and noticed the mess the two of you had made on his blue jumpsuit.

"You're gonna want to wash that." You said, meekly gesturing towards it. You couldn't deny that seeing the stains that you'd made together was making your skin feel hot again.

He didn't even look to see what you were talking about, just continued to stare at you through his mask.

You tried to come up with something to say but nothing sprung to mind. What were you supposed to say to a serial killer that you'd just dry humped and orgasmed on top of?

It seemed like you didn't need to come up with a one-sided conversation starter though as he suddenly turned on his heel and left the room. You hesitated before following him. Stupid really since you couldn't even keep up with him at the best of times, especially not now on weak legs.

And, as usual, by the time you'd reached the kitchen he was gone and the door was locked.

He continued to return every night as normal but didn't enter your house again. No injuries seemed to be inflicted upon him for a while. You were beginning to get bored. Sighing every time he left with no hint of coming inside again.

Which is why a few days later you were very shocked by his out of character behaviour.

You woke up cold, your blankets stripped from your bed and the feeling of someone watching you sinking a chilling freeze into your bones. It was soon clear why you felt that way.

His silhouette was partially outlined by the moonlight coming through your bedroom window as he stood over you.

You shot up in bed, giving yourself a head rush. "Michael, what the fu-" You were cut off as he grasped the hand that was reaching for your bedside lamp. "No light? Why?"

He answered your question by pressing something rubber into your palm. His mask.

"Oh. Okay..." You frowned to yourself as you dropped the mask on your nightstand. What was he expecting you to do if he was injured but you couldn't see him? "I can't clean your wounds if it's dark."

It was too dark to see his face but the natural light from outside was enough to see him shake his head no. He wasn't injured. What did he need then?

"Then what? Why are you here? At this time?" You were still slightly dazed from just waking up, trying to shake some coherent thought into your head. What was the time? He'd already been and gone earlier than evening. How had he gotten in? You were sure you'd locked the door? Maybe that made no difference?

His breathing was heavy, shoulders moving up and down with his laboured inhales and exhales.

His grip on your wrist hadn't loosened as he pulled your hand towards him, resting it on his abdomen and then slowly dragging down and down and-

"Oh."

He was hard.

Very hard.

"You want me to-"

You'd guessed by this point that he probably hated hearing you talk as he was always cutting you off. This time by pushing on your shoulders so you fell flat on your back and bounced on the mattress. And then he was on top of you in mere fractions of a second.

He was smothering.

His mere presence was enough to stop your breath in your throat and having him be this close, having all of his weight pressed against you this way, practically stole the oxygen from your bloodstream.

His breath was hot on your face, his nose barely grazing against yours before he moved to trace it along your hairline and then down your neck where he inhaled deeply, groaning lowly at your scent.

You reached up to touch him but he was too fast, clasping both of your wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head.

"This doesn't work if I can't touch you." You mumbled frustratedly, more to yourself than to him.

It wasn't strictly true but what did he know? Last time he hadn't used any real technique, just done whatever felt best for him which luckily also felt good for you. He'd used the mere skill brought to him by innate exploration. Maybe this time he'd be more purposeful with you.

Unlikely.

The statement you'd made seemed to have some sort of influence on him though as he slowly let go of your wrists and let you dig one into his hair, where you gently pulled on it, and let the other drift to undo the top buttons of his coveralls. You popped them open cautiously, one by one, until your nails stroked the material of his grey undershirt. You assumed it was grey as usual.

Your fingers wandered to the neckline where you swooped the index to get a feel of his skin. He froze above you but didn't stop you.

"I'm going to undo more. Just stop me if you want. But gently." You clarified, not wanting bruised wrists in the morning which was guaranteed if he grabbed them with his vice-like grip again.

Each button fell open easily, like they were dying to be free from their clasps, and Michael didn't stop you once. And when the last one was undone, he leant back slightly on his knees to let you push the jumpsuit down so it bunched around his waist just like the first time he'd been in your house.

You took the opportunity to let your hands roam the muscles you'd been admiring since the first time you'd seen him up close. They were solid. He was solid.

He crowded over you again, breathing getting more rapid the more you touched him. He let out a soft sound when your hands reached his crotch, palming him over his clothes.

"Take them off and I can touch you more." You offered, attempting to sound sultry but sure you just sounded desperate instead.

He hesitated but did as you said, standing up to push the jumpsuit further down his legs but still not taking it off completely. Then he was on top of you again, pushing your hand against him before you even had the chance to realise he was so close again. You squeezed him through his underwear and he bucked his hips against your palm.

You did that for a while, moving your hand up and down the outline of him through the material and ignoring the ache between your own legs. Getting him riled up was a lot of fun, especially when he let noises slip every now and again. You just wished you could see the reactions on his face. Did he bite his lip? Did he screw his eyes shut? Was his jaw dropped open? You guessed you'd never know.

While those thoughts plagued your mind, it seemed Michael had changed his. And what was happening wasn't good enough for him anymore. So he slapped your hand away suddenly. Before you could even begin to utter a sentence, he ripped your pyjama shirt open.

Great, another one ruined.

His hands shot to your chest, away from where they'd been resting either side of your head previously, and he started to knead the flesh. Your back arched, pushing your chest closer to his and making your nipples rub against the fabric of his t-shirt. Michael must've figured out that the stimulation was good based on the gasp you let out as he moved his attention to your nipples, flicking and tweaking them with his fingers.

He didn't seem hesitant at all in what he was doing but it was also clear he wasn't experienced either. There was no rhythm to his touches, he just did whatever felt right. And that worked for you.

You grew extremely wet when he started grinding himself against your core from instinct alone. You wanted more, craved more, needed more.

Your hands flew to the waistband of his underwear, tugging them down a few inches to pull him free. You knew he was big but having the real thing in your hand, no clothing barriers at all, was a whole other story.

You could hear his teeth clicking shut when you started to stroke him, skin on skin, spreading his pre-cum up and down his length.

"Fuck, Michael. Jesus." You garbled, head wild with lust and nothing else. "Need you inside me."

He stopped moving at that, hands falling away from your chest and hips no longer bucking to pump himself into your palm.

Maybe he really was clueless.

"You know? Inside me?" You reached around to find one of his hands, pushing it down the waistband of your sleep shorts until his fingers met your wetness.

He wasn't even doing anything but the sensation alone of him touching you made you shiver. That was until he seemed to understand what he was feeling. His head tilted to the side, just about visible in the moonlight, as he let his fingers explore. As he grazed your clit, you squeaked quietly. He seemed to like that so he did it a couple more times, just to illicit a reaction out of you. But he got bored quickly and kept on feeling.

When he reached the source of the wetness, he pushed a finger in. You moaned. Loudly. He liked that a lot more, so pulled out the finger and reinserted with a second one joining in. Your eyes rolled back at this. And the sounds you made reached a new decibel. Michael did the same thing again and again, pumping his fingers just to feel you clench around him.

When he eventually pulled his fingers free, you whined in protest before the sounds of him sucking the taste of you off of his skin hit you. And you decided that maybe the loss of contact was okay if that's what he was going to do instead.

When he was satisfied with that, Michael tore your shorts off of you completely and tossed them over his shoulder somewhere. Then his underwear was pushed further down and he was spreading your legs apart, as far as they would go.

Your heart rate picked up further than it was already running, probably entering dangerous territory. But you didn't care. It was finally about to happen.

Michael crawled over you, shadowed face hanging above yours. You just nodded at him, wondering whether he was able to see you do it. Either way, he seemed to get the message that you really really wanted to do this. So, with a hand on one of your thighs to hold you in place, and the other on his cock to guide him, he pushed into you.

At that moment you decided that you were definitely seeing the devil in the afterlife.

But it was worth it for this.

He stretched you open perfectly, gliding in with ease considering how wet you already were. But that was nothing in comparison to how you felt hearing him letting out what could only be described as a mixture between a whimper and a pleasured groan against your ear.

If never hearing him talk meant that the noises he let out during sex made you tingle, then you'd take his silence any day.

The hand on your thigh moved to curl your leg around his waist, changing the angle so he moved into you deeper. And the other rested against your head to keep him propped up. Yours scraped down his back in ecstasy, probably leaving nail marks along the plains of his skin. You were sure he wouldn't mind, he'd had worse injuries.

He stayed still once he'd entered you, stiff but breathing heavily.

"Move, Michael." You whispered. "Please move."

And when he pulled out and slammed back in again, you were positive you could see the grim reaper knocking at your door ready to whisk you away to the tortuous pits of hell.

All you knew is that you certainly weren't seeing heaven after this.

Michael grunted, head hanging so his soft hair tickled against your skin. But he seemed to get the idea as he pumped in and out of you at a ruthless pace. Skin slapped together, your chests rubbing against one another as you bounced up and down the surface of the bed, which shuffled along the floor with every thrust.

You'd never known sex to be so loud. Maybe you'd just never had sex as good as this. Because the roaring of blood in your ears definitely wasn't helping.

You couldn't help the sounds that were escaping your parted lips, thankful that your neighbours' houses weren't close enough to hear you. Your other leg moved to wrap around Michael's waist, tugging him closer to you and locking him in place. You need him to be as close as possible, to be as deep inside you as possible.

The hand on your thigh dug in deep, certainly leaving bruises, before trailing up the length of your body and wrapping around the front of your neck. He pushed down this time, squeezing slightly to cut off your airway just a little. It excited you more than anything and made you clench around him.

That seemed unexpected to Michael as he faltered slightly before pounding into you harder than before, having absolutely no mercy on your body. You only clenched harder.

His pattern began to fumble, thrusts become more forceful but less regular. He was getting close. And you weren't far off either. You let one of your hands fall from his back and placed it between the two of you, starting to rub your clit. He took notice of this and pushed your hand away to replace it with his own, letting oxygen rush back into your lungs again.

The head rush combined with the pressure on your clit tipped you over the edge into oblivion. You choked out a muffled scream as your orgasm ripped through your body, tears falling from the corners of your eyes.

But Michael didn't let up for a second. This just seemed to give him a new wave of energy as his pace picked up rubbing tight circles on your clit and slamming into you with no forgiveness.

You approached the edge rapidly again, the raw feeling over overstimulation pushing you closer and closer. His sweat dripped onto you, creating a sheen that let your bodies slide against each other in erotic heat. You could feel every inch of him either against you or inside of you. And that thought made you come again. This time the scream was less muffled.

The feeling of you clenching around him again like a vice had Michael finally hitting his peak too, his face buried into the crook of your neck as he pumped you full of his cum. If you weren't so spent already, that would've made for three orgasms.

He bit down on the skin of your shoulder to prevent any noises coming out too loud, but he couldn't mask all of them. He twitched inside of you as he gave a few last lazy bucks of his hips before he pulled out completely, standing up and looking down at you.

You really wondered how good his vision must be in this light for him to be able to see you. Or maybe he couldn't. Maybe he was faking it.

Either way you didn't care, too exhausted suddenly to really think about it. You began to drift to sleep, desperately trying to keep your eyes open to see what he'd do next. You vaguely remembered seeing him get dressed again. But you don't remember him leaving. Or moving you to rest your head back on your pillow. Or him pulling your blankets over you again.

Maybe he didn't do any of that. Maybe you did in your sleepy state.

It didn't matter. He was still gone before you even had the chance to register what happened.

But you were pleased when the next night, you glanced out of your kitchen window and found him stood there as usual, watching you. From now on, you were just going to leave your door unlocked to make it easier for him.

A/N: To celebrate my Halloween, I watched Halloween (1978) home alone whilst my housemates all went to a party. It inspired me to write this.

[popacorn]

"And with a flick of his wrist, he exposes his SOUL to you."

True Love // Happy 2nd anniversary, Dating Start!

The visual novel where you can fall in love with Sans the skeleton!

[popacorn]

Hey guys

Due to technos death I’m not going to post any more Technoblade stories or smut.

I feel so bad for Technoblades family, As someone who has lost many people from cancer I feel for them.

You made me and many others smile and laugh, fly high you damn legend, I already miss you.

Fly high Technoblade

Fuck cancer

#techno x reader #technoblade x reader #technoblade #technoblade smut

[popacorn]

Late night calls

Technoblade x Fem!reader

-basically just phone sex because why not?-

(phone sex, brat behavior, technos on a work trip, masterbation, dildos, sex toys, praise and a little bit of degradation..?)

Minors DNI

Nights like these were the hardest, a big, cold, empty bed with no one to share it with. Every single night you would dream about him, dreaming that he would come home early to you. But deep down, you knew it would probably not happen.

Your husband was on a long work trip, that ment you stayed home, alone. Your husband was a very busy man, but he always made time for his little stay-at-home wife. Unfortunately, this trip was especially long, 3 months. You called everyday and texted nonstop, but it still wasn’t enough.

You wanted Technoblade right there, you wanted him touching you just how you like it. You wanted to feel every inch of him, god, you were pathetic, weren’t you? But you couldn’t cave in, not just yet, you wanted him to bring it up. You wanted him to be the pathetic one, not you. But, then again, that would also probably not happen, Techno’s ego and pride were too big for that. You were thinking about giving up and letting him win, maybe he would degrade you if you seemed desperate enough. Call you a ’whore’ or maybe even a ‘slut’, nonetheless you would accept anything he offers you, but now, you’ve had enough.

It was another late night for you, but mid-day for him (time differences). He (like always) was the first one to call you, he always called on his lunch break. Techno loved to FaceTime you; so he could see your beautiful face (and you loved to see his) he always had his hair up, glasses,pure white shirt (that always had a few buttons undone), and the famous AirPods he always had in. You loved every single bit of it.

Techno would ask about your day, and then tell you his. It was a routine at this point, but you wanted to change it up…

“Techno?” You asked

“Yes, baby?”

“I miss you”

He chuckles

“I miss you too, honey”

“I wish you were here, in this bed with me” you confessed

“I wish I was there too”

“… the bed his cold without you”

“I bet it is”

This was obviously going nowhere, techno was pretty blunt sometimes. Maybe you could get a reaction out of him? Or maybe you could try.

“ sucks you get to miss out on these too, huh?”

You unroll the covers from under you, exposing your breasts. He stares into the screen, eyes wide, and goes quiet. He puts his face closer to the screen and then-

-Techno <3 took a FaceTime photo-

You laugh

“What are you going to use that for, tech?” You question.

“I think you know…”

“No, no I don’t think I do. Would you mind explaining?” You keep pushing.

“… I swear to gods, if I didn’t have headphones in…”

“What’s the problem, big guy?” You tease

“I’m literally in public-“

“So?” You interrupted, you were making him angrier each second.

There’s no doubt you were working him up, it was going perfectly. If he was home, he would probably have you on your knees. He would push your head oh so deep onto his large, thick c-

“You’re playing with fire, darling” he warned you

“Then by all means, I hope you burn me so hard, daddy.” You shot back

His face went red as he looked away from the camera. He starts to stand up and hold his phone down to his side. You can hear a conversation with another person.

“Hey, Wilbur, sorry for the short notice but I have to go back to my hotel. I’ll see you later, okay?”

It was clear that he was in a rush, and you knew the very reason why. You smirked, you knew how worked up you made him.

“I’ll call you in a few, so don’t think you're off the hook, missy.”

You laughed as he ended the call abruptly. The train ride back to his hotel would not be long, you rolled out of bed and headed to the bedside Nightstand. You opened it and saw a variety of toys to use; dildos, vibrators, plugs, chains, you had everything. You also notice something with a sticky note attached to it.

‘Hope you have fun with this one - Techno ’

You smirked, that sly dog. You picked up the pink toy, it looked like a normal dildo? Then you saw a button on the bottom. You hesitate as you click it and you instantly noticed the thing that sets it apart from the rest, It could vibrate. You wondered how long ago he put this in there.

you set it in the bed and got up and walked towards your shared dresser, you wanted to look nice for your husband, give him a treat. You found some red lingerie that you didn’t wear too much and put it on, then you put on one of Technos sweatshirts to hide the surprise. The sleeves went past your hands and the cotton went down to your knees. You took the toy and hopped back into bed, waiting….

And waiting….

You finally feel the vibrations and buzzing from your phone, you pick it up and look at it,

‘Incoming call from Techno<3’

It was a normal call, not a FaceTime. He had never done that before…

You picked it up,

“Hel-“

“Strip” he cut you off, his voice was deep and husky.

“I- I already am-“

“Good, that means more time for us.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“You really know how to get in trouble, don’t you? You know how to Piss. Me. Off.” He growls into the phone.

“Now you better listen to me, or else you are going to regret it. I’m not going to repeat myself, so be a good girl and listen.” After he said that you heard his exhale into a sigh, you figured he already started..

You settled into bed and gripped the toy harder, “I saw the gift you got me” you confessed.

There was shuffling on his side of the call, “already that desperate? You really couldn’t wait untill I got home to you had to resort to the 2nd best option?? I thought I taught you better, honey.”

You whined at his words. He was right. You were such a whore that you couldn’t wait untill he was done with his trip?

You continue to think those kinds of thoughts while you knelt onto the bed and put the pink toy under you as you oh so slowly slid down onto it, you sigh as you bottom out.

“Have you stated your fun too?” He asks and you hum in a response.

“Good, now. I want you to activate it.” He commands and you obey.

You click the little button at the bottom and you instantly feel the vibrations of the toy soaring through your body. You make little moans and gasp at the intensity and Technoblade was eating it up.

“I wish I was there with you, then you wouldn’t need that damn toy. You and me both know it would be so much more better, you love when I fuck you senseless, isn’t that right sweetheart?”

You once again bearly hum a response to his dirty words.

“I need a verbal response, honey.”

“Yes! Y-yes I also wish you were here. I really want you to fuck me yourself so bad , I want you to fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk the rest of the week!” You moan out

You hear him groan from the other side of the phone, he liked what he was hearing.

“I close, I need you to finish up for me. Can you do that?” He lowly says

“I-I’ll try”

“Good, just keep fucking yourself on that, okay?”

“Okay”

You both exchange moans and wet noises for a while till you both reach your climax. It was dead silent until techno broke the silence.

“I’m booking a flight home so I can see you tomorrow and deal with you the way I like it.”

It’s been awhile, so don’t kill me D:

I hope you enjoy this and if I made any errors, pretend they are not there ;)

#techno x reader #technoblade x reader #technoblade smut #technoblade #techno smut

[popacorn]

Holy. Shit.

Two Perverts. 18+.

Summary: As you commute to your work and the occasional lunch, you would pass a particularly handsome fellow. Of course, as plain as you believe yourself to be, you could never ask him out or even for his phone number. Yet when you finally meet him, under the pretenses that he's dating your cousin, Kennedy, your heart shatters. Yet, in the space of fantasy and the corners of your mind, you're okay with your fate. Because in your head, you can have a piece of him then. Only then. You're more than okay with this. (Simpbur is not.)

~5k words.

warning: somno, unprotected sex, stalking, gn pronouns + afab body (if i miss something pls let me know)

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You could hardly hold back a grin, biting down on your uplifted lips and hands gripping the edges of your shirt. Headphones plugged inside of your ears streamlined a particular song in your head, and you couldn't help the happiness bubbling inside.

It was an addicting song and you had plans to meet with some family you've missed, making this a good bus ride.

Not to mention, when you got off and headed towards your usual lunch joint, you typically passed a very… nice guy. His face made you want to melt into a puddle, you'll admit but that's because you think it's a general consensus, you think if you asked anybody else they would also say it.

Though, when the bus slows down and you make your way through the slight pouring rain with an umbrella in your hand, you didn't find any good-looking men you passed by on the daily. A little let-down, but nothing you were going to stop your good day, the song continuing to make you giddy.

Easy enough to enter the little diner on the corner, you find yourself stuck in front of the door, heart stopping as you watch your grandmother fret over this devilishly handsome man with your cousin sitting in front of him. You wanted to die a little on the inside. Your cousin, known to be quite the charmer, ran through women and men like they were disposable gloves. If she got her hands on him already, then it was too late for her chance. He would fall in love with her cousin and when she broke his heart, he would be too sad to stick around you.

If she already decided he was the one.

Taking a step towards the table, your grandmother turned her sights onto you, standing to greet you with a hug and kiss to the cheek, kissing her own cheek in return and getting a good squeeze out of her.

"Have you met Wilbur?" She gestures to the man sitting by her with a certain stare, reaching out with a hand and a small smile, a polite greeting. You smile back, shoving the butterflies down at the slightest shock when you shake his hand, relishing in the touch and trying not to eyeball his scruff. He made it look so good on him…

And your cousin goes on to tell the story about how they met in their shared geography class… about how they started dating and it's their three month anniversary. And how he was such a gentleman to your shared grandmother, so kind and so charming.

You think you managed to hide the disappointment, the little heartbreak tucked into your sleeve.

But in your mind, you didn't hold back any tears. So you had no chance? From the beginning, you didn't. He took the bus that he passed you to get to, he took that bus to go see your cousin.

You don't hesitate to greet the waiter that comes by to take your drink order.

You try not to be obvious, in your bitterness, that you were upset. Once your grandmother knew, the lady wouldn't stop until she knew why and only then would she try to make you feel better.

And it's humiliating.

To cry over somebody who was essentially a nobody to you. Just think about it, had he got on the bus for different reasons, would you have ever taken that chance and asked him out?

Just like she did?

You take another long sip, glancing away from the table as he looks at her with that dizzying smile. If only anybody looked at you like that.

Just another person who chose her over you. Another loss, no matter how small, cut deep in your heart. When would they choose you?

The lunch passes by in an excruciatingly slow hour, giving your grandma a squeeze and your cousin a side hug, Wilbur a glance and a wave bye as you hurried to the bus stop, going outside to be greeted with the rain again. You open your umbrella only to jump when Wilbur comes out and apologize, asking if he could join you, if you were heading to the bus stop. Your cousin and grandmother needed to stay to let the rain die down, as your cousin had driven the two here. But he had other things to do today, and needed to get on that bus. Preferably dry.

And because you're not a mean person, you nod, lifting your umbrella till your arm stretches a little to let him in your bubble. And as soon as you started walking, you knew you were in trouble when you inhaled the smell coming from him. A mix of deodorant and cologne, both subtle but such a good mix. So much so, you knew you were in trouble for wanting carpet burn between your thighs.

You berate yourself mentally, he's taken and he's taken by your cousin, your oh-so-beautiful cousin, the one everyone fawns over, adores and admires.

You know you have no claim to him, you were strangers before today, still, the burn in the back of your throat sticks even more so. And so, you keep walking with him, keep the distance as much as you can, until the bus stop arrives and you could stay under the shaded stand.

The bus ride is annoyingly long, and when you reached your stop, your surprise lasts alongside his, and when you explained your apartment was on the same path he was taking, he seemed more shocked than you.

"So is my apartment, what're the odds?" The chances… are in the millions, aren't they? And yet you stand in your apartment after having waved bye to not only your neighbor, but your cousin's boyfriend.

And the walls are so paper thin, your face burns at the thought. You always ignored the nagging thought, the one where you're too loud, the one where you know you've got neighbors and they need sleep as well.

But since you figured you would never meet them, them being your neighbors, it wasn't a problem to you.

However…

Now it is.

Now it is very much a problem, and you scream into your pillow, near tears as you knew you definitely jacked it off to him, thought about his handsome face, brown curly hair to tug on and of course, once he'd bumped into you and handed you your phone back, you had a good look at his long, thin fingers. And they felt cold, grazing them softly.

How good they'd feel pressing on the pad of your tongue, gagging you as he worked your thighs open, pressing himself between them and making it hard to keep your hands to yourself.

God and now that you knew his name? You're ruined.

Because as much as he is hers, you can fantasize as much as you want as long as nothing happens.

In your mind, you can have a piece of him.

But you'd have to be quiet.

     

It has been a total of two days and you are most definitely screwed.

After making an oath of being quiet, of staying away from Wilbur, you have found yourself bracing for opening this door because you have not been quiet this last hour.

No, you got home and upon hearing nothing in the next apartment, not even the A.C., you think to yourself, it's safe to masterbate, it has to be. He's obviously not home.

And when you undressed yourself, you imagined his hands, his hands pressing themselves into you, his mouth covering yours and then travelling down to-

"Wilbur…" a sigh left you, high and strung-out as your hand moves faster, dying for that tight coil in your tummy to release, to let you cry his name out and imagine he had done this, not yourself.

And that's when you heard footsteps in the wall behind your bed. Your eyes open as your hand stills, mouth wide open, trying to hear for more and that's when they pad away, a distant front door opening and closing. Sitting up and fixing a robe over yourself, you felt panic swell inside of your chest, harder to breathe in and out as you hear it.

A faithful knock on your door and then the soft call of your name. You cover your mouth, eyes prickling with tears but you wipe them away, pulling yourself together as you tie the cords to the robe tighter around yourself and hold a hand above the doorknob. Shaking only a little bit, you try to convey a normal but confused expression.

"Wilbur, what's going on?" A harsh blush dusted his cheeks and the shells of his ears, had he heard?

"I- uh, well I heard you say my name but I'm not sure if you were okay? You sounded like you were hurt?"

He definitely fucking heard you.

But he is an adult, he probably knows that you weren't hurt, that you were only imagining him saying only the filthiest things in your ear, panting and moaning and sounding wrecked as you were. He had to have known that you weren't, quote-unquote, hurt.

You hummed, looking out to the hallway, before looking back and shaking your head, "not hurt, but thanks for checking," you briefly smiled, before moving to close the door when his hand came to push against his, a soff baying noise coming from his throat. You blink several times at him as you widen the door, and he can't look at you straight on, but he does calm down with his flustered face. The red is now softer, more pink than anything.

"I was wondering, since you're not hurt, maybe we could… watch a movie, have dinner? Kennedy is stuck at work for several more hours.." his words kept trailing off, like he didn't know what he was going to say or if he meant to say them. Regardless, you bite your lip. You're already on the edge and being in close quarters with him?

You're pathetic but not this pathetic.

…

Apparently you are, because the next ten minutes were spent getting dressed in reasonably comfortable sweats and an old, oversized t-shirt, and your softest socks covering your feet from the cold floor.

And when you exit your bedroom, you find Wilbur on his phone, ordering food for delivery. His eyes lift, moving from your TV to your eyes, dipping below to look at you.

For the most part, you ignore it, settling into the spot next to him and pulling the throw blanket over yourself, leaning into the old material. Wilbur's phone meets his lap, tossed down unceremoniously, and you try to ignore the weird, unidentifiable look you know he's giving you.

The show he's pulled on is a time period piece, something you lose yourself in easy, only startling out of the trance it had you in when Wilbur stood to greet whoever was at the door. His phone lights up and you take a little glance, a small look as he lingers by the door.

It's your cousin, and she's… asking to know where he's at? What?

Looking away as the door closes, you smile at Wilbur and take hold of the styrofoam boxes, dealing with them accordingly. You'll just have to worry about that later. The food you're about to devour is making you drool, just a little bit at the corners of your mouth.

Annnnnnnnd the food's gone. You lean down to place the takeout box on the ground, turning in your spot on the couch, facing Wilbur as he keeps his eyes on the TV. You don't do anything, just look a little bit as you doze off into a food coma.

And with you knocked out cold, you had no idea that Wilbur turns to look at you, this time with an unabashed stare, he can look at you all he wants.

Look, being the key word.

He hesitates before reaching over, the tips of his fingers tickle on the apple of your cheeks, brushing away a stray eyelash. You hum, before leaning more into the couch, curling in the blanket a little more.

"So darling…" he hums to himself, before leaning over, close to your head and inhales deeply, taking in the soft smell of you. The fresh smell of laundry detergent and then your conditioner. So nice, you smelt so nice.

Because of course you did, of course you smelt nice and trusted him so much for just meeting him as your cousin's boyfriend. And just the thought of Kennedy, the slight obnoxious woman made his skin crawl.

But you…

Well. He is always just a little bit biased towards you, ever since he saw you on the bus, all alone and so quiet, quiet in your life and movements. But you were always breathtaking in everything you did. Made him harder than anyone else. And when you moaned his name so sweetly, he knew, knew that he had to see you then. Knew with a bit of time, you'd let him in and he'd get to taste you. From the sweat on your skin to the spit in your mouth to the cum leaking out of you, he'll taste all of you.

He'll have all of you.

He presses his mouth against the corner of yours, licking the little crumb sitting there off and finding you just as deep in your sleep before he'd gotten close.

You were so good to him, barely knew him but so nice, so good. He'll treat you for it. Soon.

  

  

When you woke up, you were tucked away into your bed and you moan just a little bit as your memory returns, Wilbur's quiet presence may have been helpful in your slight nap. Afterall, the voices in the show were low and he was so polite, eating just as quietly as he talked. And then there was the blanket. Covering you and shielding you from the AC's cold air.

And you fell asleep on the couch…

You cover your face as it burns quickly, your thoughts quickly doing the math and figuring out he carried you to bed. How embarrassing! You whine into your hands before falling back into your pillows, staring up at the ceiling before checking the time.

Just enough for a shower and a quick breakfast.

And if you get sidetracked, getting lost in the feel of the warm water and imagining a ghosting touch across your body then that's nobody's business and you grab a few snacks to shove in your bag, panicking when you can't find your keys immediately.

Relief sets in as you lock your door, trying to open it and failing to ease your mind, letting you leave with a bit of peace in your mind. You press the button for the elevator, tapping your foot mindlessly and getting in, leaning against the walls mindlessly. That's when Wilbur exits his apartment and waves you down, and you instinctively hold the elevator doors open.

Close quarters with him? Is that such a good idea? Especially with your budding admiration for his hands? Especially when your most reoccurring fantasy is the one where he chokes you while you ride him?

How you manage eye contact after that thought is beyond you, letting the door close after him and you press for the lobby.

Silence hangs in the air but not uncomfortably so, well, maybe for him. You were definitely stressing whether or not you looked even the slightest horny, hoping to keep your cool in check on the bus. But Wilbur curses besides you as you exit the building, saying he forgot something on his bed. He says goodbye and you're almost sorry to see him go. Almost.

You breathe out in relief, stepping inside the bus and taking a seat, glad you'll have the slightest amount of privacy and get to have your nasty thoughts.

What was it earlier? Getting choked by his hands while you sat on his dick? You sigh, smiling a little as you plug in your headphones, turning on that same addicting song while you think about making Wilbur toss his head back and moan your name.

While Wilbur had left something on his bed, it was just his wallet and then of course, the mold of a key to your apartment.

His heart in his chest as he checks it over, those moans from yesterday and all those days before the previous, he couldn't just sit in his apartment, twiddling his thumbs with his dick in his hand, when he could be hearing it in his ear.

You wanted him, really wanted him, and he wanted to give it to you. Even if he couldn't tell you or do it directly. He'll give it to you.

And when his phone rings from Kennedy, his eyes narrow.

Sure, getting with your cousin was necessary for the perfect meeting, seeing you flustered and turning in on yourself when you realized you were neighbors. You'll realize it's fate soon enough, if not already.

He couldn't wait for you to come back home tonight.

And your keys hit the table, clinking and ringing in the air as you lean down into a stretch, popping your back as your fingers graze the floorboards. And when you lean back into your feet, you come up and feel only a little bit taller, lighter in the spine if you will.

Dropping your bag on the couch, the only thing you take to your bedroom is your phone, turning on your cheap, bluetooth speaker along the way. Somebody's kid barfed on you today and you really, really would prefer going to bed early after scrubbing your skin.

Not that there was anything wrong with vomit, except everything wrong with it.

Made you feel icky, gross, disgusting even on the bus, made you feel like there were eyes on you at all times. (There was, but not because of the vomit.)

The warm water makes you melt, your bones turning to butter and if somebody took a comically large butter knife, they'd be able to split you into two masses of human butter. That is, if such things could happen.

But for now, you felt better, drying your skin off with a towel and laying down a dry one on your pillow. You were going to go to bed early, wake up a few hours before the sun and then enjoy, maybe, a period of intimacy with you and your vibrator. Just maybe.

And when you fall asleep, you don't realize you didn't even lock the door.

  

  

Wilbur smiles to himself, pocketing the key and opening the door with his jacket, being careful to close it before hitting the creaky range.

The door closes with a silent click, and he locks it for you.

Walking in, he notices all of the signs you're asleep. The first being your soft snores, the ones he waited for at night to hear before falling asleep himself.

He itches to move your things, move them to a pile where you can find it all, so easy, be there for you especially when your day is a little bit rougher than you're used to. Itches to hold you tight against him, pressing himself into your skin like a living, embedded, weighted blanket.

But that would have to wait, for now, there was the matter of you…

He found you curled like a fetus, and he couldn't help but stroke your cheek, just for a moment. You were so pure in this state. Eyes closed, mouth slightly open, chest rumbling with your snores. So alive when you're in between conscious and reality.

If only you'd let him in, closer and closer so he'd know you and only you. He'll get rid of your cousin, maybe not permanently, but he knows now, knows that you're not just going to do anything when he's taken by somebody close to you. (Well maybe not close, but at the very least, related to you.)

Let him in, he begs, in between snores and the silence. Let him in.

He nudges your face with his, remembering how deep of a sleeper you were when he carried you to bed last night. Breathing in your skin. Kissing your face slowly, moving to lean over you as his other hand came up to cradle jaw.

In your dream, you felt an itch at your face, the scratch of an unshaved face, and your dream morphed from the soap drama involving dolphins to Wilbur's face nuzzling yours as he pressed into you, groaning as he swallowed your own moans.

And truth be told, he was so close, so so close to you. Moving down, he gently peeled the blanket off, finding you in even less than what he saw last night. Loose shirt and tinier shorts. His mind latched onto it, repeating phrases and words, tongue sticking itself out to swipe his chapped lips. All for his eyes only, just for him to see. Only for him, all for him.

His hand slips under your shirt, pushing it up as his tongue reaches out, licking a strip from where the shorts begin above your belly button, to the nipples that began to harden from the cold and stimulation. Sucking and swirling on them, he bites just a tiny bit, tugging and pulling with his teeth while the other one tweaks with his forefinger and thumb, you shift in your sleep, snores coming to a stop and whiny, breathy moans escape your mouth, leaning into his touch just a tad. 

His mouth only moves to give the same treatment to the other nipple, before his hips twitch against your lower body, bucking slightly as he thought about fucking you and fucking you while you're waking up.

His mouth lets go of your nipple with a small pop, watching as you writhe beneath him and letting out those delicious moans and a tiny, "Wilbur, ahh," oh god, his pants needed to come off, his dick couldn't have possibly gotten harder but it did. It did and he wants to fuck you somewhere. Right between your legs, inside of you or using one of your hands or feet. But as he moved off the bed to take his pants off, something awful happened. You turned over and stretched onto your stomach, face-planting on your pillow, moving to sit up.

What a crazy fucking dream, you think to yourself, turning around and resting your back against the headboard. You glance around and see nothing out of the ordinary, not that you thought you would. It's just… his mouth felt incredibly real.

You slid out of your bed, heading towards the bathroom and barely closed the door.

Wilbur takes his chance and slides your closet door open, running out of your apartment with careful, silent footsteps. His heart beats next to his ear as he unlocks his door and acts like he just got home, laying down his own set of keys and re-placing his coat over the table. Moving to the thermostat, he turns the AC, desperate to feel something than the fire beneath his skin, licking his veins and teasing his erection. So close and yet, he's yet to fuck you.

But the world is not ending, you merely woke up.

Another day, another experience. Another time.

He had time.

The time that passes is relatively short. It'd been a total of two months before he'd attempt again. He'd broken up with Kennedy by then, unable to stand the way you deflated when her name flashed across the screen, hearing her talk about him so differently than what you've experienced.

He's been coming over more often, not that you're complaining. At all. He gets a little touchy, hands on your thigh, sliding up sometimes or even the times you've cuddled close to him, claiming it was all platonic. You may or may not have accidentally humped his leg, in your defense it was in your sleep, but still. The humiliation lasted for a while.

And then of course, the way he stared at you, got closer than before.

You welcomed it all. Especially when you got a call from a sobbing Kennedy that he'd broken up with her, the smile on your face and the giddiness in your heart was criminal. You offered her your shoulder, though you probably wouldn't have contained your smile.

She passed on your offer, determined to find a rebound and make herself forget him.

When you got this call, Wilbur was asleep on your couch, head tilted back with his face relaxed, hands unclenched on his thighs, which were spread out with his crotch so incredibly open. You felt like the worst friend, a pervert like no other. But… you couldn't help yourself, you lifted one leg and then the other, till you straddled his lap and grinded down onto his crotch, feeling him twitch under his pants. And that's when his hands flew to your waist, breath hitching as his nails dug in, eyes opening as he turned to see the person on top of him.

Forgive him for bucking up and grinding back, holding your hips down as he continued to grind, leaning forward to latch his mouth around your neck, your own breath caught in your throat.

Guttural moans left you, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he bites and sucks marks into your neck, and that's when one of his hands dip between you two, beneath your waistband and find the elastic of your underwear. He didn't wait a second as his fingers, cold as ever, found your most sensitive spot and abused it, working his fingers in the way that made you see stars.

"Let me," he pants into your neck, pulling back so he could capture your lips into a searing kiss, "please let me fuck you." He moans even louder into your mouth, using his other arm to wrap around you and grind his crotch against yours. And how could you say no?

"Fffuck, please. Please fuck me." You barely finished your sentence when he picks you up off his lap, standing you on your feet when he slides your shorts down, taking you into his mouth and moans at the taste. You cry as you dig your fingers and wrap them around his brown curls, pulling on them to bring his mouth closer where you need him. Bucking into his face, he only takes it, letting you shake in his grasp as you ride out an orgasm like no other, not even when you hooked up with other guys, they never did anything like this to you, for you.

You push at his head when it starts to hurt a little, twitching from the overstimulation, "Will, please, s'too much now," and he hears you cry but he wants to do this for you, make you scream his name while he's at it. Become a regular complaint.

And when your eyes sting from the painful overstimulation, you cry his name, tugging harder and harder on his curls, but he only moans your name louder. Only ever comes off when he feels you start to tremble, and he stares up at you with your slick covering his face. And he feels powerful, licking his lips and pulling you down so you could taste yourself, his tongue snaking inside of your mouth and running over every groove of your mouth, every corner found and accounted for. He pulls away and tugs at the shirt you're still wearing. And only says just a few words. "Take these off," and you're nodding, slipping them off and kicking aside your shorts and underwear, before pulling on his shirt. Eyes pleading with him to do the same.

And how could he say no?

That's a question he'll continue to ask of himself for the rest of the night. Sure as anything, this night would be burned into his internal memory, but some of the best parts…

"Shit shit shit, Wilbur, I'm- fucking shit, I'm close," and he moves his hand away, using both of them to hold your hips down, nestling his cock deep inside of you.

"Not yet, just a little longer," he pleads a little, determined to make you whine even more. And you cry in the air, leaning forward to rest your head against his shoulder and grip them, trembling under his hands before you could breathe slightly easier.

"Okay, I'm go-good now." And his smile, god the way he smiled at you, you had to steal a kiss, the way he can be yours, even if just for one night.

And another moment when he was catching his breath, leaning over your back before sitting on his knees and pulling you up, so you'd be flushed up against him, your back to his chest and his dick nestled inside of your warm walls, twitching ever so slightly as he came down from his high. And you shifted in your position, leaning into his back and your head on his shoulder, you felt him tighten his arms around you, one circling around your waist and another reaching up to hold your throat. And where his fingers didn't cover your neck?

Of course, he had to cover them with marks, let people know, let them see how good he made you feel, let them see how you belong to him and only him.

Squeezing your neck experimentally, he's not that surprised when you grasp his wrist, moaning even more so when it's strained. And he was going to make sure to tease you for this for a long time, hips rocking against yours as he thought about pinning you to the front door by your throat and fucking you against it. Anybody walking by would hear how you'd cry his name, hear how good he fucks you. Everyone would know.

The night ends with you passing out from the sheer amount of times you came, well, your night ended like that. He'd fuck you as many times as he could before you woke up again, loving the way your body moved under him in your sleep, wrapping your legs around his waist and getting the better angles.

You whimper in your sleep but every time he stopped, you would whine even more. "Who knew my quiet neighbor would be such. A. Fucking. Whore?" He enunciates with a thrust between words after such, hands pawing at your chest as he chased his high for the nth time tonight.

When he finishes inside of your mouth and the time rolls around four in the morning, he pulls out and decides that as exhausted as he is… he has to clean you up. After all, he wants this to happen again. And he won't let you go after this, no, you're his. You're completely his and no one was going to take you away.

So, with a clean rag, he gets you clean as best he can, pulling your ass into some shorts and covering you with one of those oversized shirts… actually he used one of his, but you could find out in the morning.

Sliding under the covers next to you, he pulls you close to him, smelling a little like him and covered in his hickeys. He smiles as he presses a kiss into the side of your head, this night has just opened up so many filled with endless amounts of fun.

He couldn't wait.

Literally, he couldn't because you woke up with your legs over his shoulder and him pounding his dick inside of you, hitting your sweet spot over and over, making you cry and dig your nails into his back.

But also metaphorically too, he couldn't wait. You were his. (And he was yours, you'd think to yourself in the morning, watching the scratches on his back as he moved.)

And in the end, your cousin only found out after walking in on the two of you fucking on the kitchen table, she was going to convince him to get back with her, but seeing as he made eye contact with her and continued to fuck into you-

She'll have that talk with you later.

But for now, you're happier than you've been lately. And that's all that matters to you.

...

[a/n]: ayo so this is kinda long so you should give me a big smooch for this 🥴

#c: simpbur #simpbur x you #simpbur x reader #simpbur x y/n #simpbur smut #mdni #minors dni

[popacorn]

I will love this till the day I die

The unspoken rule (NSFW)

(Hybrid!Technoblade x afab!reader)

K: Breeding, hybrid x human, size difference, transformation, scent, knotting

(oneshot inspired by @hysagyne 's Cabin fever)

It took several weeks for Techno to be comfortable with his Hybrid side around you, even now you know he holds back from telling you certain things in fear you might run away. At first he felt embarrassed in his piglin form around you, often hiding in the fluff of his cape when he involuntarily changed. He thought the form wasn't easy on the eyes and too dangerous to be around. You always tried to convince him otherwise to no avail, he was adamant in not changing around you.

What you didn't fully understand however was the other aspects that came with being a hybrid; hypersensitive hearing, sight, smell and an unspoken rule between hybrids.  

Technoblade had been in a mood all day, sluggishly hovering around the house in his human form following you everywhere you went- never saying a word to you. You became suspicious that it was you he was distancing himself from when He didn't hug you this morning nor did he kiss you when you approached him. But it wasn't like he was completely avoiding you either- He would stare from a distance with this sorrowful expression like a kicked puppy, always pretending to be doing something but you knew he was stealing glances whenever he could. Finally you had enough when the Piglin followed you to the bedroom, standing by the door aimlessly.

"Techno" You started facing away from him as you continued your chores, his ears twitched in response, almost happy you had started the conversation instead of him. "What's wrong?" He hesitated, opening his mouth to form a sentence but quickly shutting it in case he said something he'd regret. Still the voices deep inside him didn't want to hide how he was feeling at this moment. 

"Did any of those other hybrid bastards touch you?" 

Before he could filter the voices he spoke out more spitefully than he would've liked.

Your eyes widened in surprise for a moment, taken aback by his unrecognizable tone. His ears lay flat and a guilty look filled his eyes, he knew you would never do anything on purpose to hurt him so it felt all the more wrong to say out loud. He usually wouldn't let the voices so easily influence his words, but you thought nothing of it. You thought back to this morning when the most peculiar thing happened while visiting friends, Schlatt had given you a particularly long hug you didn't enjoy.

"yeah...well now that you mention it, Schlatt did hug me which was...super weird. But I think he was drunk" 

Forget what he said before, Techno was pissed. 

Knew something was wrong

Disgusting 

We'll cut off his hands

He knew he was smelling something he didn't like but he had no idea what, that bastard had put his hands on you, on his mate. Surely even a buffoon like him knew it was taboo among Hybrids to touch another Hybrids mate. Techno let out a frustrated huff as he approached you, standing behind to wrap his arms around you in an attempt to help the unwelcome scent fade. He tucked his head into the crook of your neck as he spoke again.

"His scent, it's still on you...don't like it" His tone shifted, as he nuzzled deeper into your neck, rubbing some of his scent on you as to drown the rams out. But it wasn't enough. 

"h-hey wait! That tickles" 

You let out a light laugh as Techno's hair tickled your neck, trying desperately to squirm away not wanting to be tickled anymore but you could never escape the piglins grasp. He wasn't done with you yet. 

"My love..." His voice came out like a low purr as his hands roamed down to your hips. You felt a heat rise to your cheeks.

"yes?" You urged him to continue. 

"I can't take it...please let me get rid of it" He begged, desperate for you to let him mark and scent you before another hybrid got any ideas. You bit your lip, giving the piglin a nod to continue.

He smirked, tilting your head to connect his lips with yours. He reveled in the way you opened your mouth so eagerly to let him taste more of you. He knew you were only this obedient for him, so today he would give you a reward. His hands slipped to the hem of your pants, when you felt his fingers brushing the skin under your shirt it sent a shiver down your spine. 

When his hands reached your heat he could tell how wet you were for him, he swiped a finger up, collecting enough slick to help please you. His thumb played with your clit, working at a slow pace to start. Your back curved as you bit back a moan, he used his other hand to move your chin back into a deep kiss- stealing away any more mewls. When the two of you broke away for air he whispered to you. 

"Don't hold back princess...tell me how much your mine" 

He slipped his other hand under your shirt to give your neglected breasts some much needed attention, massaging them as he pumped his fingers in and out slowly. 

"f-fuck Techno... I'm all yours-just please" You pathetically mewled. His pace turned cruel in a matter of seconds, abusing your clit mercilessly and stretching you out on his fingers. You gripped the bed post as your knees buckled, an orgasm ripping through you before you could realise. With eyes rolled back and a lustful smile an embarrassingly loud moan escaped your mouth; a sound that went straight to his dick. Before you could recover from the first orgasm Techno pulled down the pants and soaked underwear you were wearing and discarded them somewhere forgotten on the floor. 

"we're far from done princess" He smiled, unbuckling his own pants. A firm hand pushed you over the bed, chest on the soft mattress and legs dangling over the side. He couldnt wait for the time it would take to put you on the bed properly, he had to fuck you now. Your chest swelled at the feeling of his tip tease at your entrance, collecting your slick almost like the calm before he would fuck your brains out. 

He slowly entered and the stretch always made you breathless, no matter how many times the piglin fucked you, you felt so full. 

"erm-s-so much" You spoke, breathless. He finally stopped when the full length of his cock fit inside you so perfectly, like you were made for him- so he would make sure everyone else knew as well. 

"f-fuck..." He gasped, "gods, look at you. So fucking perfect" He cooed, moving his hips slowly. You gripped the sheets tight, head buried deep into the mattress, he thought you looked so cute like this- all stretched out for him. 

"I bet schlatt wanted to scent you like this...bastard" Techno slowly started to become frustrated again, his hips subconsciously picking up the pace. "but he couldnt fuck you the way you need it" He continued to speed up, not fully realising the mess you were becoming under him. Your mind was slowly unravelling and you couldn't hear whatever he was saying to you. 

"I'll have to fuck you so hard you can't walk tomorrow...maybe then they would get the fucking message" the lewd sounds of skin slapping and pornographic moans filled the room. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes as you choked back a sob as the coil in your stomach became unravelled again. 

"fuck! T-Techno! W-wait!" Were the only words you could scream out from the overstimulation still his brutal thrusts still didn't slow, his mind finally slipping away into a spiral of something mixed with lust and greed fueled even more by the raging voices.

Breed them

Make sure they don't forget

We'll have to kill that bastard later

"gonna fuck you so full" He spoke like something else had taken over your mate- then without warning all the frustration finally caught up to him and mid rut he shapeshifted into his full Piglin form. 

You felt the stretch before you had fully realised what just happened, his cock grew with his size stretching you out to limits you had never experimented with before. Steam from the sudden transformation radiated off the piglin as his moans of pleasure became more possessive and animalistic. You felt the bulge in your stomach grow as Technoblade rearranged your insides with every thrust, your next orgasm had never come so easily. 

"T-Tech-...n-no… s-slow down" 

You stuttered out, not even sure if there were words leaving your mouth. He let out a dark and deep chuckle before sinking his tusks in your throat, leaving marks wherever he could reach before he pressed your head into the mattress. The snaps of his hips were so fast he had to brace himself on the bedpost - inhuman strength breaking the poor beam under his grip. You felt your mind slip with every snap of his hips, legs numb and arms sprawled as he fucked you like you were just a hole.

Though your mind was hazed with lust you felt something growing bigger and before you could register it he knotted you with one last aggressive thrust, cumming in great excess. You didn't know how it was possible to feel more full but here you were being used like a cock sleeve and full to the brim. 

"take it all you little slut"

He didn't even know what he was saying nor did you, too fucked out to even let out any sounds, eyes rolled back and drool pooling onto the sheet. All he knew to do was keep your hips in place and slowly feel his seed spill out since there was too much of it.  It took a good couple of minutes for Techno to come down from his high, he sighed, content that you were well bred. His eyes trailed down to his clawed hands, widening in surprise and confusion. Why was he in his piglin form? Then the reality of what happened clicked, as he looked down at you dumb fucked and full of cum underneath him. 

"shit..."

(apologies for the garbadge writing but Im glad you read it nonetheless)

#technoblade x y/n #technoblade x reader smut #techno x reader #tb #k: marking #k: breeding #k: size kink #technoblade x reader

[popacorn]

Manhunt (Technoblade x Fem! Reader)

You couldn’t focus, you had millions of thoughts flying around your head. Your gasps and pants could not be silenced, even with you covering your mouth with both hands- it wasn’t enough. You could hear his footsteps,

Dream..

-

It seemed innocent enough, a little game with a few friends, there were 2 runners and the rest were hunters. A little game we like to play called ‘Manhunt’. Dream and Technoblade chose to be the runners while the rest of us: Tommy, Wilbur, Ranboo, Tubbo, George, Sapnap, Bad, Quackity and me were the hunters. It was 8 vs 2, you would think that we could take them. But even with all those odds, the runners were the ones who had you all running for your lives in the end.

Unfortunately, you had been cornered by a certain green bitch; Dream was fucking taken. There was nowhere you could go, you were pressed against a tree trying to hide from the man. There was no other signal from the others, you feared the worst.

You could hear his footsteps coming closer and his annoying laugh getting louder.

“Oh y/nnn, just accept defeat! You're dead!” He laughed.

Your eyes welled with tears, he was right. This is the end.

Then-

“Dream! Come over here! I need you!” You heard Techno call out.

The footsteps stopped, turned, and disappeared faster than you realized.

You stayed in your spot for one more moment to see if he really was gone.

He was!

You let out a cry of relief, as tears flooded out of your eyes.

You're alive!

You can still win!!

Everything was blurry as you stared to the ground in shock. You saw movement to your left, unsure of what you wiped your tears away with your hands to get a clearer view of the image.

As soon as you put your hands over your eyes a hand captures your mouth and holds your hands over your eyes.

You were trapped again! This is where you die! You’re done, dead!

“MMH!”

You frantically swing your body side to side trying to get him off of you. Trying to yell and get help if there is someone still out there that would be willing to help you.

“I suggest you shut up or else Dream will find you.” A deep monotonous voice said.

You completely stop your movement and do a double-take. This wasn’t Dream- it was Technoblade!! Technoblade had caught you!

He started to push you forward, you were still blindfolded by your hands so you had no sense of direction. You listen for any sudden changes, It didn’t sound like grass sloshing underneath your feet anymore, the ground was hard and rough. Perhaps a cave? That would explain the cold atmosphere.

Techno then suddenly let go. But told you to keep your eyes closed. You listen again, it seems that he has blocked off the entrance.

“You can open your eyes now.” He mutters.

You peel your hands away from your eyes to see the tall pinkett with a torch. He is looking down at a compass, the compass is slowly moving around.

“He’s definitely looking..” Techno mentions,

“Are you going to kill me?!” You take a step back.

he finally looks away from the compass to make eye contact with you. You notice the blood and fresh cuts on his skin.

“Holy shit, who did that to you?” You ask, taking a few steps forward to inspect the wounds.

“Sapnap.” He shrugs, “I’ve had worse happen though.” He laughs.

You walk up to him and hesitantly place a hand over his cheek. He instantly leans into the touch.

“Are they all…” you trailed off.

He looked away to anything other than your eyes. You felt hot tears start to spill. You let go and turn around so your back is facing him. You couldn’t let him see you so weak, who knows what he’ll do with your guard down. You fail to notice the light footsteps that made their way to you, you then felt strong arms wrap around your waist.

“You know, if I was going to kill you, I would’ve done it already.” He mentions

You stood in place, your fucking enemy was hugging you! What the hell do you do in that situation??

“Why haven’t you killed me yet? You could win right now if you just kill me, you do know that right?” You ask as you turn around to tuck your head into his chest and hug back.

“ Do you want me to kill you?” he questions.

You don’t say anything, you only stare at him, he stares back. You could feel your heart beating faster and faster. Techno grabs ahold of your chin and pulls you straight into his lips, connecting them both. You kiss him back desperately, wrapping your arms around his neck. He walks you towards a cave wall and pushes you into it, the wall was sharp and cold against your hot body.

“If you want to do this then we need to make it fast, who knows when he will find you.” He groaned as he grabbed your ass.

You jumped up and wrapped your legs around his torso, still kissing him. You peel off your shirt as he starts to unbuckle his belt on his pants, you can feel his erection through his pants.

God you just wanted to see it, no- you needed to see it now.

He had only his boxers on now while he worked on taking your clothes off too. You whined as you left marks on his neck, you were getting impatient.

“Behave” he warned you, but you didn’t stop.

He growled and smacked your ass, you decided to finally stop. He lined up with your entrance and pushed right in, not even preparing you first, he said we ’didn’t have time’ so you had to just take the pain. (And it hurt pretty bad because of how big he was…)

Thankfully he did wait until you were comfortable enough to start moving back and forth. Gliding in between your oh so delicious tight walls, you could not keep yourself quiet. It was too good.

“Shut the fuck up, do you want Dream to see how much of a slut you are?” He questioned as he put his hand over your mouth.

Even with that you were still loud, techno knew he didn’t have a lot of time. He rammed harder and harder (but still keeping a good pace). He knew you were close, and so was he. As a final last effort he rubs your clit and that’s all it took, you both finally came.

Holy shit, you just had sex with your enemy…

LMAO I’M SO SORRY!! THIS IS NOT THAT GOOD!!

#Technoblade #technoblade x reader #techno x reader #technoblade smut

[popacorn]

Lmao part 2 has more likes than part 1

ALSO NEW STORY COMING OUT THIS WEEKEND :DD (not part 3, just smut)

Im so sorry it’s taking to long to make :(

[popacorn]

Stalker! Techno X Fem! Reader (Pt 2)

You wake up to multiple pings of notifications, when had you fallen asleep? When did you even get home? You had barely even remembered the events from last night. With the notification still going off you flop the warm and fluffy blanket off you and grab your phone to see what the hell was going on. That’s when your eyes widened with shock, you had over 40+ messages and 2 missed calls from ‘BIG MAN TOMMY’. That’s when you remembered bumping into the trio, especially that very handsome man: Technoblade.

BIG MAN TOMMY

-Hey Y/N, it’s Tommy! Remember, when you bumped into Wilbur? That was funny.

- Are you doing anything today? I was wondering if you wanted to go watch a movie with all of us!

- We kind of want to see the new Spider-Man movie. How does that sound?

You read the messages, and your face blossomed a bright red with embarrassment from running into Wilbur. You go back to reading the messages, this time they are 5 minutes later, the conversation has changed totally…

BIG MAN TOMMY

-Y/N DID YOU DIE??!??

-PLEASE DON’T DIE

-YOU ARE TOO POG TO DIE

-Y/N

-IF YOU DO NOT ANSWER I WILL FIND YOU

-DID THE POGNESS KILL YOU?

-Y/NNNN

You stare at the messages, not knowing how to feel… one part of you wanted to let him rant on and the other half wanted you to tell him you were okay.

Y/N

-Hey Tommy! I’m sorry I slept in. I am still alive and still very pog, the movie sounds great! What time do you want to go?

He almost texts back instantly.

BIG MAN TOMMY

-Maybe in an hour? Wilbur wants to see it as soon as possible, he has not shut the fuck up and he is annoying.

Y/N

-okay sounds good! I’ll see you all then :)

With the new information you race out of bed and run to a mirror to see the damage.

Oh boy. It was bad

You had dark circles around your eyes that were a mixture of lack of sleep, mascara, and eyeliner. Your hair was a big ball of knots and tangles. You didn’t have time for this, but what could you do? You could only think of one option- a shower.

You quickly undressed and turned the showers heat up, as soon as it was ready you hopped in and began to clean yourself…

When you finally finished (in record time), you felt way more awake and refreshed. You dried and styled your hair and put on your normal makeup. You wore comfy clothes, it was only the movie theater, there wasn’t much to dress up for. You wouldn’t even be seen most of the time due to the darkness.

You were finally ready so you ate breakfast before you went, you were not going to spend 8$ for popcorn, no way (you also couldn’t really afford it). After a light breakfast you chilled on your couch waiting for Tommy to text you. Then right in que.

BIG MAN TOMMY

-Hey, we are leaving now. What is your address?

You type out your address and Tommy tells you they will be there in 10 minutes. So for 10 minutes you scrolled through TikTok trying to kill time.

BIG MAN TOMMY

-We are here!

With that you walked out your apartment and to a relatively small car, you saw Tommy with the passenger car window down and he had a huge smile on his face and was waving his hand at me like a mad man. You saw Wilbur was also driving, so where was Techno? You felt a little disappointed at the thought he didn’t want to go after all.

You open the backseat car door and climb in. You then close it and turn to the left, you are met with those eyes you knew too well.

It was Technoblade.

You all greeted each other and continued the car ride to the theater. Tommy and Wilbur were in a deep conversation in the front, but in the back it was very quiet. Your whole body felt uncomfortable and tense, not knowing what to say or how to even start up a conversation with this handsome man…

“So uh, how are you Techno?” You finally ask.

“I’ve been good, what have you been up to?” He quickly asks back. His eyes were staring at every part of your body, until finally making eye contact with you again.

“Eh not much, my life is really boring” you laugh,

“What about you?” You ask back

“Um, I mostly work in the mornings and play games at night.” He hesitantly said,

“Oh what kinds of games?” You continued, now interested.

“Um Team fortress, a little bit of Rust, and Minecraft, that’s some of the ones I mostly play.” He counted his fingers trying to think of a few games.

“Oh really? Me too! Do you have a discord by any chance?” You smiled.

“Yeah” he pulls out his phone, you both exchange usernames.

You make it to the movie theater and wait off to the side while Wilbur and Tommy get snacks, Techno was getting tickets. You continued to scroll through Twitter, not really looking at the feed, but just trying to pass time.

Finally you see Techno with 4 tickets and 1 receipt. You wave towards him and you both make your way to the movie room while you both make small talk.

You all had gotten a fairly good seat, you all could see the movie, not too high up and not too low down. The only problem was that you were against a wall, there is nothing really bad about it, but it gives you less room. Techno was the only one sitting next to you, and you felt nervous. In the car you were farther apart, but now you were both almost shoulder to shoulder.

Tommy and Wilbur came not too long later, and sat down in the empty chairs- then the movie started.

Halfway through the movie you kept feeling like something was watching you, but it was probably just the people behind you. So you continued watching the movie, but you felt something grip your thigh and you tensed up. There was only one person next to you. You cautiously turn to your right and see Techno staring at you, you look down to see his hand on your thigh. Your face instantly flushed and you stared back at him.

This was very bold for someone who was usually quiet and kept to himself…

You could’ve pushed his hand away at any point, but you didn’t…

you calmed your body and continued the movie, it almost felt comfortable. you smiled and Techno definitely noticed. every now and then you could feel his hand grip harder then go back to a loose grip. His thumb would sometimes would trace shapes into your thigh. The movie ended faster than you’d like.

The car ride was loud from Tommy and Wilbur blasting music while they sing along. You and Techno didn’t say a word, not about what he did or even the movie. They all dropped you off and before you left you waved and said goodbye (mostly to Techno).

When you got back you couldn’t stop thinking about what happened. You felt like a little girl fantasizing about a crush, hoping the feeling was mutual.

(Hi! Sorry this took so long for it to come out, I’m really bad at writing and coming up with ideas :P

#technoblade smut #Technoblade #technoblade x reader #techno x reader

[popacorn]

Stalker! Techno X Fem! Reader (pt 1)

You sighed heavily as you faceplant into your hands. “I need a break.” you groaned as you left your chair, pulling your arms above your head and stretching them farther until you hear a satisfying *pop*. You grab your phone and your earbuds and head towards your apartment door.

-

 Being fresh out of college in a crappy apartment was uneventful, life was just; wake up, work, eat, work, sleep, and repeat. There was nothing exciting about your life, you would totally disappoint your younger self, you always thought life would be fun and lively! But turns out it’s just the complete opposite. 

You wish you could go back to college, you had friends there and there were some people that you really enjoyed. But here you are now, still a virgin and working a minimum wage job for the rest of your life. Pretty sad if you ask me…

You scrolled along with your playlist and clicked on a song,

-Now playing-

-Daddy Issues-

With a satisfied ‘hm’ you continue your walk to the nearby city park, eyes glued to your feet not even daring to make eye contact with anyone, unfortunately, because you were not aware of your surroundings you bump into a hard figure.

“Oof!” you mumbled

You look up to see 3 males standing in right front of you, the one in the middle is the one you oh so rudely ran into. He had brown fluffy hair with round glasses, his height intimated you, causing you to step back and tense up. His warm eyes curved up, apologetically.

There was another, he also towered over you. This one seemed much younger, he had blonde hair and his bright blue eyes stared at you with interest. He didn’t seem like as much of a threat as the other.

And the last one- oh boy, he was was the tallest of them all. The male had long bubble gum pink hair, and his sharp red ruby eyes pierced into your soul. Not with disgust or envy, but rather, lust… He eyed every inch, curve, crease of your body. You felt your face heat up. No guy had ever looked at you like that before… Maybe you could-

“Oh um, I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” The male in the middle questioned, his British accent caught you off guard. You forced yourself to look away from the Pinkett and to focus on the Burnett. His face was full of concern.

“Oh yes, I’m fine! It was my fault anyway, there is no need to apologize.” You said with a smile.

The blond boy perked up and decided to join in on the conversation.

“No, no woman! Wilbur is a big man, go ahead and tell him it was his fault because it WAS! Wasn’t it Techno?” The British boy turned to the Pinkett who returned the look, but with uninterest.

“U-uh no. It really was my fault I wasn’t look-” You were caught off guard by the energetic brit.

“Woman I promise, It was this this bitch’s fault!” He points to Wilbur. “Wilbur always fucks shit up!!” the boy protests. 

“Tommy.” Wilbur threatens. 

“No, no, but it’s true! Rember with L’manburg and Dream? Or Schlatt? It was all your fault!” Tommy continues but is interrupted by Wilbur who grabs the child and slaps his hand over his mouth.

“I’m so sorry about him, I’m Wilbur, this is Tommy, and that’s Technoblade.” Wilbur points to the tall man. 

“Techno is fine.” He interrupts.

“Y/N” You smile.

Your smile is quickly wiped off your face when you see Tommy takes his tongue and takes a long swipe along Wilbur's hand, this causes Wilbur to curse and snatch his hand away from the child.

“WOMAN!”

“Y/N” You correct

“...Y/N! You’re pog, yes, yes very pog. All women are pog- especially the queen, AKA Lizzy my beloved.” He smirks.

“Do you have a phone?” he asks

“Yeah, here you go I guess?” You cautiously hand your phone over to the boy. Who snatches it out of your hand right away.

“What are you going to play a game on my phone or something?” You question, which causes Wilbur to burst out laughing and you see Techno smirk.

“I- WHAT?! NO!! I am only simply adding my number to your phone!!” He interjects as he pushes the phone to your face, trying to support his claim. You carefully take the phone back and look at the contact name.

‘BIG MAN TOMMY’

“Good name huh? Very- uh- very pog! Yes, POG!!” He cheers, Wilbur then tells you that they have to get home soon, you look up to the sky and see that it is indeed getting near nighttime. You both wave goodbye and Tommy yells to you that he would text you later. You just smile at the boy.

You hope to have more interactions with the trio, especially Techno.

~Hii! This is my first time writing a fanfic so I’m sorry if it’s bad. If you have any requests for a short Techno smut then DM me!! :DD~ PART 2 COMING SOON!!!

#technoblade smut #Technoblade #technoblade x reader