Middle Child PT2
PT1 | PT2 | PT3
summary: As Phil’s prodigy child you had a peculiar relationship with the lone warrior, Technoblade. A snowstorm may bring you both closer than you’d expect…
word count: 5.9k
warnings: uh... corruption kink, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, oral (receiving), fingering, breeding kink and overall sinful
anatomy: afab, no female pronouns
"Techno...!" You yelp, dragging him along.
Barely able to stand up, his skin bright red, and his clothing froze solid in his body. He closes his eyes, head coming down to lay on your shoulder while you struggle to hold his body weight. You close the door, kicking the rags you had used to plug up any creaks.
"Techno? You with me? What happened?"
Of course, you get no response. You just observe how pale he looks. There are bits of ice clinging to his eyelashes and brows. "Let's get you by the fire."
You tug his arm, pulling him towards the crackling fireplace. When you get him to sit on the soft rug, he lets out a relieved sigh, warmth filling his body. Not enjoying his presence, your dogs ruff as they pad their way out of the living room and away from the human popsicle.
The tea you made earlier is luckily still warm, so you offer him your mug, refilling it quickly.
He chugs it like it's booze, handing you the cup for another fill.
With a sigh, you just hand him the teakettle, standing up once again and practically running upstairs toward your father's room. You ruffle through his closet; What little is left behind is either too fancy for daily labour or too impractical. But you just pull a couple of the largest shirts you could find, a thick blanket and rush downstairs.
"Sorry... I couldn't find anything bigger, please bear with me for a while..." You set them down next to him, hands automatically reaching toward the buckle that holds his cape. Your hands struggle to undo the ties around his armour; You don't even realise what you're doing until you get to his shirt. His hands, fingers so cold they felt like icicles, grasp your wrists, eyes froze on yours. And you jump.
You jump backwards, trembling, cheeks bright red, "Oh my goodness, Oh my, I– I'm so sorry!"
His surprise is taken over by a nervous chuckle.
"It's fine..."
His voice is hoarse, a bare whisper that floats through the air, almost dampened by the crackles of the fire.
"I'm just..."
"...Used to it?"
"Yeah... The boys are so used to the L'Manburg weather these days, they're always wearing such thin clothes..." You scratch your neck, looking away. "I... I'll give you privacy. You must get out of those clothes right now."
He nods.
You go into the kitchen, cursing yourself for being so noisy. Technoblade had always been reserved; He must hate you now. I mean, when was the last time you had seen him without his chest plate? It's not like he had anything to be ashamed of, au contraire, pale skin mapped out by purple scarred streaks; muscles defined and shaped by the gods, protected by a thick layer of fat that only seemed to emphasize his athletics. The ice, now melted, dripping over his chest gave him a sheen like a puff pastry, so good looking you might just take a bite–.
Shaking your thoughts away, you got to work. As much as you wished to bury yourself six feet under and never rise ever again, he was going to freeze to death.
So, you heat the water in bottles and use the back of a pan to warm up towels.
When you've got everything, you stand at the door, fidgeting with your fingers, wondering when's the best time to come around. I mean, what if you walk in and Techno isn't clothed? Restlessly tapping your feet, you open your mouth to speak, but before you can answer, you're interrupted:
"You can come in..."
With a small jump, you walk in small steps, eyes finding anywhere to look but him. Finding a seat next to him, you wrap up the bottle that just radiates warmth and hand him. He's still shaking a little, though he seems to have calmed down now.
Techno is surrounded by bottles and towels by the time you're done, wrapped up in a blanket you think that is more than enough to warm him up and get him back on his feet. But your mind still wonders how did he get in such a state; Your father always talked about the strong one, never gets a scratch. And if he was like that, then how was your father? God knows you can't fly in this weather.
"Your father is fine. He's far away from the Tundras."
Your shoulders drop in relief, eyes closing in bliss just before shooting open. Wait, how did he know what you were thinking?!
"How did–"
"It's written all over you..."
When he speaks, for once, his eyes linger. Lazily tracing your features with a glaze you can’t quite figure out. But you blame it on exhaustion.
You shrug, playing with the hem of a towel. Under his watch, your cheeks burn brighter than the fireplace u
"What happened?"
"Carl got scared by some spiders and ran away. When I was looking for him, we got caught in the storm. I left him in the shed, by the way, the barn was locked..."
"Oh, poor thing..."
"I'm used to it. It's not a little rain that can take me down."
"...I...I meant Carl... The animals get so scared when storms are coming... The spiders must've been torture..."
You're too busy feeling pity for the horse currently locked in the large toolshed outside to notice the blush that fills Techno, not a redness from cold this time.
"...I got this, by the way," he hands you this little folded piece of paper, and you can recognise the green satin bow that holds it tight.
"Daddy...?" You mutter, pulling it apart, "how did you...?"
"Your crow found me on the way. Poor thing must've been caught by the rain, too... She's safe with Carl."
"Thank you..."
Your father writes to you about your warning of the storm, announces he is well, far away enough, orders you to protect yourself and not go out the snow has melted off. He wishes you a happy birthday; Once again.
Clutching the message to your chest, you sigh, to Techno's demise.
He is estranged by your actions, shifting uncomfortably, wondering if you'll cry.
But you smile, folding the paper once more and tying a pretty bow around it. When you face him, this loneliness flashes behind your eyes. For a second, he wishes to understand you, to study every subject that involves you.
"...Happy birthday, by the way..." His whisper fades into the ambience, drifting to blush on your cheeks. "...Sorry, you must be expecting people... You're all dressed up–" Catching himself before he rambles on any further, he covers his speech with a cough.
"Oh, not at all!– I mean..." You realise how sad you sound, trying to reformulate, "I was... But with the storm..."
Techno clears his throat, not daring to meet your eyes right now, "I figured...You look good..."
This warmth bubbles in you. Butterflies be damned you had a whole zoo in your stomach right now. Your eyes hesitate, but your heart is set on it. "Do I?"
"...Yes." He turns his head, just not enough to face you yet. "...It suits you."
"The dress?" You fidget with the fabric bundled around your folded knees.
"White... The colour white. It suits you."
You smile. "Thank you, Techno."
He smiles back and you can feel your heart stop.
Because there's this softness in his red irises, this glow of curiosity; yearning, that you can't handle the meaning of right now.
There’s an anxious silence that sits above you, the type that falls heavy in your stomach to push you to say something - anything.
“I should run you a hot bath,” You break the silence, “How are you feeling?”
Techno hesitates, eyeing your face, maybe for extra clues, “...I’m fine, thank you... really...”
You don’t believe him, eyeing his jaw and how it trembles when he speaks, the discontent in your face is quite evident, “You’re shaking! You’re not “fine”.”
Techno looks away, choosing not to answer your jab, or rather, unable to.
“Do you still feel cold?” you ask and all he does is nod shyly. “You’re bright red...” there’s a nervousness in your words, worried for his health.
Without giving a second thought, you raise your hand, reaching for his forehead while touching your own, “Have you got a fever?!” You widen your eyes at the feeling of his skin, it’s burning up hotter than you’d ever felt. Standing up in a jump, you pat his shoulder, “Techno, you’re burning up! We must get you in a bath right now!”
His eyes meet yours, analyzing every bit of your face, overwhelmed by this worry and care he hadn’t felt in years.
“I’m fine...”
“You’re not-“
He interrupts your worried babbling, hand reaching to grasp yours, “I run a bit hotter than your kind... That’s why I don’t deal so well with the cold...”
You kneel to his side, processing his words, “Oh... I’m sorry... I thought-”
“Don’t worry about it... Your father did the same when we met.” He offers you a smile so bright you immediately know why his body temperature is so high.
“...What can I do to heat you up?”
He falters, honestly pondering for a second. “Unless you’ve got a big heater, this is enough...thank you.”
It’s like something snaps in your mind as you widen your eyes, “me! I’m a big heater!”
Techno eyes you for a second before breaking into laughter. The corners of his eyes crinkle under the pressure of his rosy cheeks. And you’d never thought such sharp teeth would look so friendly; that a loud, unfiltered laugh of pure joy would sound so harmonious.
When he ceases he has a ghost of a smile on his lips, letting it fall once he notices how serious you look, “No, you can’t be serious...”
“I am! Come on! I’m hot blooded, there’s nothing else as warm!”
“No... No. There’s no need to”
“Then let me try, just once...If it doesn’t work, then fine.”
He furrows his brows, “It’s not a life or death situation, this is enough, I’ll warm up in no time...”
“Come on, Techno... Please...” You hold his frigid hand, enveloping it in warmth and he hesitates:
“...No.”
“Please?” You bring his hand to your cheek, letting the own hotness of your reddened cheek take over his cold digits. You almost wish it could stay like this.
“...Fine.”
You smile in victory, padding through the rug. When you stand in front of him, he doesn’t budge, staring right back at you.
“Open up, it doesn’t work if it’s over the blanket.”
He huffs in annoyance, raising his left arm and giving you an entrance and that’s when you realise why he must’ve been cold, of course, your father’s shirts wouldn’t fit! Poor thing was left with an open, flimsy sheer blouse.
You kneel between his legs, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his chest against yours. When you touch, he hisses and you flinch away.
“What’s wrong?!” You ask though he finds it hard to answer you. You push again, wanting to know the reason.
Your eyes are so wide and glossy, worry pours out of them, and Techno can't help but feel ashamed to break your heart, "Clothes are cold, I said I'm fine, I don't–"
"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry..." Chewing on your thumb, you ignore his pleas and think to yourself how you could make this work.
And with blush so strong you could rival his hair, you realise what this meant.
"Close your eyes," he's quick to catch on, a similar colour taking over his cheeks.
"No–"
"Just do it!" You're not sure how long your courage will last, even if you're determined to warm him up no matter what it takes.
Techno closes his eyes, his hybrid immediately picking up on his other senses.
He can hear the soft shuffling, your fingers loosening button by button. You swallow dryly, padding along with the rug, getting closer to him. You pull the sleeves along your arms, shuddering at the cold that hits your body as soon as they're off.
And his body stops.
It's as if every single inch of his skin is 100 times more sensitive.
Not spending much time feeling the cold, you wrap your arms around his neck once again.
Your chest clashes against his, and you can hear the soft groans that escape his throat. Feeling his breathing come to a halt, you move,
"You–"
"Don't open your eyes!"
Your face is buried in his neck, cheeks burning so hot you're sure you'd be able to heat him.
Techno swallows, hands far away from you. His body, more frozen than when he was on literal ice. You're warm, so, so warm. Your chest is pressed so tight against his, nothing in between and gods, do you fit so perfectly against him, and he wonders, he wonders if you will feel this perfect in his hands.
He's so warm against you. Gods forbid you dreamt about this day, but you did. Because ever since you met Technoblade, there has been nothing else in your fucking head. Nothing but those broad shoulders of his and the way he smiled at you and offered to carry you on his back when you'd sprained your ankle.
You inhale, he smells like fresh snow, like gunpowder. Like the baked potatoes he'd always have in a campfire whenever you visited your father. He smells like home. Because no matter what, Techno had always been Techno.
Even if Wil left home, Techno would laugh at your attempts to hold a sword, giving you pointers.
Even if your little brother found himself new friends, Techno would come back with a puppy or a kitten, claiming he'd found them in his journey and couldn't care for it.
Even if your father missed birthday after birthday, Techno wrote you letters in the name of Phil. Little did he know, you could always distinguish between their handwriting.
And you tighten your grip around him because once again, you'd find yourself alone on your birthday and there was only Techno.
The one you'd write letters for that would never see the daylight. The one you'd carve initials in the snow, only to step on before anyone saw it.
It's like he can sense it, he always can. He finally relaxes against your hug and his hands wander around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
"It's okay– It's okay if you want to cry..."
"No..." It's muffled against his skin, "...I'm sorry, I always do this..."
When he laughs, you can feel the vibration that erupts from his chest. And you can help but laugh, too.
"Thanks, Techno..."
He nods, nose brushing against the top of your head. You smell like vanilla and hot cocoa, sunshine and haybales. And he can't get enough of it.
Closer.
Closer. Closer. Closer.
The unison cacophony takes over for a minute, and he presses you against his body, tighter and tighter. And you raise your head for once, trying to find out what he's thinking.
And when your eyes meet, you feel like your breath is taken from you.
For he is close; too close. His lips, parted, blows hot on your cheeks and you glance at them, wondering how soft they would feel, how warm and comforting.
Techno notices your eyes and when he does, it's like his heart jumps out of his chest. It could only be a misunderstanding, right? You would never look at him in such a way, not in the way he did. You were simply too pure for your good.
But then you press your lips to his, just like that night on your 20th birthday when you stood on your tiptoes, stealing a chaste kiss from him before running away.
This time, he doesn't hesitate. Hands on your cheeks pull you into him, lips hungrily take on yours. And you taste sweet, like whipped cream and cherries, warmth seeps through your skin, a sensation he's never felt before.
Silence.
In his mind, for once, there is silence.
And he smiles into your lips, peace.
When you pull away to breathe, your eyes glaze over at him. Half-lidded, you pant. Lips red and swollen, strings of saliva drip down. And there's this urge that burbles in his stomach, knowing he's the one that left you like this with just a kiss. The perfect little you, half-naked, begging him for another kiss with just your eyes.
Ruin them.
"I– I–," he can't catch a simple second to recount his words, the sounds in his mind loud like they would be on the battlefield. "I'm sorry–"
Techno is pulling away, crawling backwards, away from you. Away before he does something he regrets.
"Shut up."
You smile, tackling him down into a kiss, your teeth buckle against him and you laugh at your clumsiness. But your hands are curious, taking his cheeks, running through his hair in fistfuls, realising it's so much softer than it looks.
And by the Gods, he wishes to stay like this forever.
His tongue runs over your bottom lip and you obediently part them. Devouring you like the most palatable sweet, he leans into your lips and you let out the softest mewls, surprised there was such a noise in yourself. Suddenly, the loose pants you'd given him don't fit so right.
You melt into him, his hands mould against your body, just right. Running his fingers through your shoulders, down your back and waist, to find themselves at your hips. Techno palms your skin like he can't get enough of it like you'd be disappearing at any second. Still, he's delicate, careful like you'd never seen.
Your moans fall shy and he devours each and every single one of them, growing greedier with each passing second.
But you're both getting impatient and when you coyly roll your hips against his, you can feel the way his jaw tightens. His hands fist into your dress, fingers almost ripping up the thing fabric in sheer strength.
"Not here..." Techno pants. "Hold steady," He whispers in your ear, holding onto your thighs before standing up.
And you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck with a giggle, lips attached to his neck and jaw.
He holds you with ease and your heart accelerates at the thought of having him manhandle your body with such facility.
When you reach your bedroom, he takes a deep breath, overwhelmed by the scent of you. Techno allows your perfume to fill his lungs with warmth.
You're dropped onto the soft mattress, eyes eager and staring up at him. Not losing any precious time, he just slips his hands into the rest of your dress, pulling it off and letting it be forgotten on the floor.
Your attempts at covering your modesty are in vain, for he takes your wrists, holding them above your head with a devilish smirk. You knew you were not escaping those hungry eyes of his.
Techno leans back, admiring the sight of you.
It's as if his stomach does summersaults at your bare body, your curves and your supple skin. He's never seen anyone or anything as beautiful, as perfect; And you're there, staring at him with big eyes, licking your glistening lips in excitement, chest rising and falling with your unsteady breaths.
Gods, your chest, so fucking perfect, fitting into his palms just right. Just like every other bit of you.
Take them.
Take everything.
And you smile, toothy-grin and all. Cheeks pink in timidity and eyes curling into crescent moons.
And Techno smiles back, pressing a kiss on each of your cheeks; then your nose; then your forehead and finally: your lips.
You giggle, goddammit. You giggle into his lips and he can't fucking help it. He wants everything that you give him.
His lips flutter against your skin, butterflies kisses leave a wet trail from your jaw to your neck to your collarbones and chest, and you sigh.
Hands that seem to know what they should do fly into his hair, getting caught in tangles and thin braids. He groans into your touch, almost getting lost in your hands, but the task at hand, he could never pass up the delicious meal you were.
Tongue twists around your nipple, bud writhing rigid under his touch; you'd blame it on the cold but he knew better. The knee that rubs The pheromones you're secreting, unknowingly, plague his mind with the most sinful of thoughts. With that smirk of his, he was more than sure he was the reason for your arousal.
He's not satisfied until your chest is a masterpiece of saliva and purple and red bruises dancing across your perfect little chest. Your body arches into his mouth, and he resists, godamn, does he resist the urge to carve his canines into your neck until your dripping your luscious blood.
Before you know it, he's between your legs and there's a spot in your underwear, dripping in your slick and he lets out a roaring groan at the sight.
You yelp, covering your mouth and letting out a surprised giggle. But he's got his mind somewhere else, he rips through your panties like paper, face to face with your heat and takes a deep inhale. His fingers, long and calloused drag along your entrance and you feel a shiver run along your spine.
Your slick collects around his fingers and he brings it to his lips, letting a moan at the taste of you that fills his tastebuds. Every single sound that leaves his throat travels through your body, leaving goosebumps in its path. You want to hear more of him.
He coats his own fingers in saliva before lowering them once again, you feel the coldness in them now, which makes you jump ever so slightly. His thumb pokes at your bud and you moan louder than either of you expected.
His face rises to meet yours with a surprised but content smirk.
His pace is, at first, slow and intimate. His other hand caresses your thighs, kneading at the flesh in your hips and stomach. Eyes never leaving yours, he enters you with one finger.
You moan at the feeling, surprised but not opposed to it.
Techno studies your expression, looking for any clear display of discomfort. But when he finds nothing but lust, he doesn't fight the smile that creeps up his lips. He starts moving, slow and steady, prodding at your canal and letting you get used to the feeling.
When it settles, you buck your hips into his hands and he chuckles. Your cheeks heat up even more.
He adds a second digit, letting you get used to it once again before scissoring your entrance. You'd need a lot more stretching to even dream of fitting around him. But he didn't blame you, the thought alone of your tight little pussy made him lightheaded with desire.
And then, he adds a third and your moaning like mad.
When he can fit a fourth in, his mind is going crazy with the idea that you were perfect. Gods, you took him so well, so willing for just his fingers.
His free hand flies to your sensitive bud and your eyes sew shut as your back arches into him. He takes the chance to kiss your throat and chest, leaving more marks of him.
When the knot comes undone, you scream his name, letting your body fall slack in his hands. Electricity flows through every inch of your skin, and by the gods, does it feel good. You're sure if you had any neighbours, they would've learned his name by now.
Your eyes are half-lidded, mind clouded with bliss. But there's only one emotion in your face; desire. You crave him, you want more, more, so much more. He's given you a sight of heaven and now you want the goddamn key.
No one else has ever made you feel like this and he will make sure he'll be the only one.
Ruin them. Ruin them. Ruin them. Ruin them. Ruin them.
"Oh my goodness..." Voice a hoarse whisper, you reach for him wanting nothing but to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss the fuck out of his gorgeous lips. "I've never felt this good before..."
And you eye him with such innocence, who could blame him for wanting to ruin poor little red riding hood when they were served with a pretty little bow to the big bad wolf?
So he devours your lips, letting you taste your own sins on his tongue. And you moan, falling deeper and deeper into the belly of the wolf.
"Ready for round two, angel?"
You gulp in fear but your excitement is so much more prominent than any hesitancy.
"Wait..." Techno leans over the bed, grabbing one of the pieces he'd discarded before. "Keep it safe for me, okay?"
And he places his crown atop of your head and you almost tilt under the weight of it. But he fixes it perfectly against your hair, taking it all in.
Because even when he was two steps away from freezing to death when you opened that door, he could only think of how absolutely ravishing you looked. You looked like royalty, like a monarch and he could only treat you like one.
Techno kisses your forehead and leans back between your legs; He kisses from your chest to your stomach to your heat.
"Wait– You don't have to–!" You try, in your bashfulness, to close your knees, but he grips your thighs, yanking your calves over his shoulders. He flashes you a grin.
"Like I would lose the chance to devour you." he runs his tongue over your overstimulated core.
The sounds that escape your lips are short of lustful, sweet demure moans that fill his minds with nothing but pride and greed. Eating you out like a starved man, Techno feels his own arousal grow stronger and stronger, the voices in his head scream profanities, claiming nothing but you.
One of your hands is tangled in his hair, shoving his face into your core while the other holds the crown still. And he smiles against you, perfectly willing to be pushed further into you. Insanity creeps up on your mind, a familiar knot forming once again in your stomach just as your legs start to tremble under his hold.
So vulnerable, so pliable and willing under him. Just for him. Only him.
That thought alone, being the spark of your descent into pleasure brought a heat that spread throughout his body. Silent rolls of his hips into the mattress too limited and almost torture.
And then, you come again, faster and louder than before.
Techno slurps up every drop of you with a hungry smile, you drip over his lips. Your legs are still trembling when he leans over your body to face you.
"Please..." You whisper.
"What do you need, my little angel?" He brushes hair from your face with such delicacy, with an adoring look in his eyes.
"...You. I need you."
And his brain short-circuits.
He gulps.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, goddamnit!" You whine into his lips, hands clawing at his neck. Gods, you clenching around nothing, aching for something, anything bigger, better than measly fingers. And leave it to Techno to have the best of all.
"Naughty little angel, you know cursing is bad..." He beams, "tell me what you need..."
"I don't care... I need you to fuck me."
What can he say? Your wish is his command. He fumbles with clothes, ripping through them with a mental apology that he would get your father new clothes later. His member is pulsating as if it's about to explode.
You lick your lips at the sight of him. Muscles upon muscles adorning his figure, the scars on his body are like connect the dots and you remind yourself to trace them with your lips later. He is glistening with a sheen of sweat and you gulp, hands flying to touch his abdomen.
Godamnit, he's fucking gorgeous.
He shys under your touch, hesitant. But you have this look of absolute adoration, borderline worship that fills him with satisfaction and delight.
"Like what you see?" He doesn't pass the chance to taunt you and hide his own embarrassment.
"Yes." And your lack of shame gets the blush on his cheeks, you're not a single bit timid to eat him up with your eyes like this.
And his cock, gods, his cock. It's long and thick and just plain beautiful with veins that burn a deep green. Though, it currently looks painfully red and aching.
You reach your hand to feel him, licking your lips as you drag your hand along his length. It feels warm in your hand, almost too hot and you wonder how it would feel inside of you–
"Oh, angel..." he half-moans, half-complains, "as much as I'm very grateful... I would last an embarrassingly short amount of time if you touched me..."
The smile that sets itself on your lips is playful and a little bit proud to bring him such pleasure he'd be scared for his performance. So, you let go and he almost laments telling you to stop, he is just aching for you. Any bit of you he can get.
Techno teases at your entrance, collecting as much of your slick he can get. His head and cock are both pounding in lust; he can barely hold himself steady.
"Are you sure you want this?"
"Yes..."
"...You can't go back if we do this–"
"I'm sure of it."
"You can tell me if it hurts..." His breath is sultry on your neck, he steadies himself against the headboard of your bed, slowly penetrating.
The stretch, holy fuck, the stretch. It sends your mouth in an 'o' formation and you arch into his arms. Nothing could have prepared you for this.
When he settles, you feel it become less painful and more pleasurable.
You're tight. Tighter than anything he's ever felt, almost too tight. And that's when it hits him: the wave of guilt that flashes through his body like a punch.
"It's... It's your first?"
His expression is nothing you have seen before. Techno is never caught off-guard, but he looks scared like he's committed the worst of sins. And in his mind, he did. In his mind, he's taking advantage of poor little you, because no one would choose him with their own free will.
"Yes... And it's yours... I'm yours... as long you'll have me..." You smile, pulling his chin to hit him with as many kisses as you can. And it's like you've flipped a switch in his head. His eyes darken almost instantly, a lewd glaze taking over.
He has your first kiss and your first time. And unbeknownst to him, your heart as well.
You're his. Forever. Only his.
You hear the cracking sound of wood and realise he's held the poor wooden strips of your bed so tightly they've split in half. The same hands that ripped through mahogany like eggs take yours, intertwining fingers with such care.
"You're getting yourself in trouble..." Techno smiles against your lips.
"Am I now?"
"Oh, yes, you are. I'm never letting go of you."
And you smile back, content.
But something else wasn't enough. You buck your pelvis into his, wanting to get any friction he'll give you.
"Aren't you eager?" You just cry, clawing at his chest. "I'll need you to use your words... Tell me what you want."
Staring into his eyes with a pout, you only whine again, which makes him chuckle.
"Let me know, with your words, how much you want my cock..."
A sigh escapes your lips at his words, at the same time a flame creeps through your face. You're ashamed to have such thoughts but something else in you, a darker, deeper mindset wants to know what happens next; Wants to tell Techno of all the unruly thoughts you have and get a response from him.
Because, although you're not willing to admit it just yet, you want to see the effect you hold on him.
"I want you... so bad.." You whisper, eyes glued to his. "Please... Just move."
He smiles, kissing your forehead.
Pace set, he starts off slowly and it takes every fibre in his body to hold back. Even you can notice in his jaw, clenched so tight. Because he's thinking of you, no matter how much the voices hate him.
You buckle against his moves, everything feeling so sensitive, so much. He stretches you out so perfectly, you feel full. Complete.
Techno increases the pace gradually at the same pace your moans gain volume, every harmonious sound that leaves your lips serves as fuel for him, his hands are surely leaving bruises on your hips.
"Faster..."
He smirks, "Your first time and you're already crazy for it, huh?" a murmur that fills you delicious shame, "You fit so perfect around me, angel..." He punctuates his sentences with kisses along your jawline.
And you moan against him an incoherent line of noises that sound like "yes" and "please". When you raise your arm to cover your mouth, instead he grasps your wrist, intertwining your fingers together.
He holds your hand against the bedsheets as his hips thrust rapidly into you, a wave of pleasure travels swiftly through your body. Techno trembles against you, bestial groans erupt from his throat and every one of them gives you goosebumps.
"If only your friends saw you like this, angel... Just a cocksleeve, all fucked out..."
You nod at his words.
And he smiles at your perfection. Laid out under him, his crown so fitting with your image. He's the reason for your cries in pleasure.
"Oh, perfect little angel... If only they knew how crazy you are for this cock..."
"Yes...Oh, yes..."
Breed them. Breed them. Breed them.
Techno pulls out for a second and you whine at the loss; but when a second later, he slams into you at a rapid pace, you can only roll your eyes back and moan.
"Maybe I should fill you up..." It comes out like an animalistic growl against your throat. "Cum so much inside you it drips out. Let you walk around with my cum in you, you would like that, wouldn't you?" His pace increases and the guttural sound of skin to skin is much louder than the soft rain. "Maybe I should knock you up... Let you walk around with a piece of me in your womb, make you mine forever..."
You writhe around his cock, the buzz of his words float around your mind, "please..."
"What is it, angel?"
"fill me up, Techno."
Your eyes meet his and he knows, gods, he knows; You'll be the end of him someday.
He builds his movement even more and that's when you're over the edge, tightening around him like crazy, your moans are so loud your voice cracks. And that alone is enough to send him after his own climax.
Techno spills into you, there is so much you can barely fit it all and even if he stays inside to plug you up, it spills out.
He kisses your jaw and neck and nuzzles against your collarbones, you melt under his touch, lazy and fucked out. Still inside he collapses to your side, pulling you into his chest.
And with the soft rain and the heartbeat of his as lullabies, you found yourself drifting into sleep.
