how about some kissing headcannons with techno? First kiss, morning kisses, hello/goodbye kisses, etc?
ty king/queen
Kissing Headcanons — DSMP!Technoblade
First Kiss
Techno is not smooth. At all.
He thinks he’s planning the perfect moment — quiet night, a warm fire, maybe he even remembers to brew tea — but when the moment actually comes, he’s just staring at you like:“So uh. I’ve been thinking about kissing you.”
He says it incredibly serious. Like it's a battle strategy.
You laugh, and he short-circuits.
You end up leaning in first — slow, gentle, a brush of lips.
When you pull away, his cheeks are pink, eyes wide, tail slightly wagging (if we’re going slightly SBI-lore adjacent).
He whispers:“...That was nice. We should do that again.”
voice a little shaky but happy.
Morning Kisses
Morning Techno is a sleep monster.
He rolls over and drapes himself over you like a weighted blanket that smells like pine smoke.
Your first kiss of the day is usually:
half on your cheek
half on your eyebrow
because he is not awake yet
He grumbles something like:“mrph… be still… warm…”
and refuses to let you get up.
If you kiss his forehead, he makes a very soft content grunt.
(You have discovered his off-switch.)
Hello / Goodbye Kisses
They start small — a quick press of lips, barely-there.
But once he gets comfortable?
He cups the back of your head with one large warm hand and just holds you in place for a second.
Not rushed. Not showy.
Just: I’m here. I came back.
Before leaving on a mission, he presses his forehead to yours:“I’ll return. Promise.”
After he comes home, exhausted, armor clinking, he walks straight to you — no words — just wraps you up and kisses you slow and deep like he’s grounding himself again.
Random Everyday Kisses
He kisses your temple when he walks behind you.
Your knuckles when he hands you something.
Your hair when you're reading together.
They’re never dramatic — they’re habit.
You are just something he loves.
Like warm stew. Or good enchantment rolls. Or victory.
And on the nights when war memories creep in:
He rests his head on your shoulder, breathing slow, eyes closed.
You kiss his scars — the old ones, the faint ones — and he melts in silence.
No words needed.
His hand finds yours.
That’s enough.
In short:
Techno kisses like someone who took a LONG time to learn softness,
a/n i've been sitting on this lil blurb for a while and wanted to make it into something bigger but it never worked </3 so here's to what could've been
imagine technoblade casually flirting with you
you, philza, and technoblade had intercepted a pillager outposts raid plans and managed to get to the large trading village a week before they intended to raid it, offering help in building a wall and training the men who volunteered to fight.
as you and technoblade milled about, supervising the training men, you questioned, “no wall work today?”
“not for me, at least,” techno grumbled quietly. “’was gettin’ tired of all the attention.”
you let out a laugh at that. it was no secret that all eyes of the village women were on your strong friend--especially when he had discarded his shirt yesterday, and suddenly they all had lemonade and refreshments to offer him.
“yeah? i mean, i get it. there were a lot of eyes on you at all times.” you spared a glance around and corrected yourself, “are a lot of eyes on you.” the hybrid didn’t even bother looking around, just shrugging at you. “sorry. it’s gotta be annoying that you can’t avoid it.”
he just shrugged again. “yeah. but it’s only a few days. and they don’t approach me as much when i’m around you.”
you turned your eyes back to your friend with amusement. “they don’t?”
technoblade simply returned your amused gaze. “has anyone come up to me since i’ve been with you this morning?”
you let out a snicker. “i guess not. does that make me your scary, unapproachable dog?”
he let out a laugh at that and shook his head. “no. i think it makes you the one thing they know they can’t compete with.” he smirked when your jaw fell open in the slightest. red began to flush your cheeks, and you were just about to say something when one of the village leaders called out to you. you stuttered over words for a moment before giving techno a long look and stalking off toward the leader. he snickered when you were gone.
he'd never admit it, but flustering you was a past time that would always amuse him, no matter the situation.
Warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, smut, humanTechno being a grump, grumpy guy-sunshineish girl. George complaining (no hate). Touch starvedness. I didn’t mean for there to be a size kink but there is one.
You’re confused, nothing new there, your head swirling from your long week and silly meetings at work. Nothing was more tedious than listening to George drone on about utter nonsense, mindnumbingly stupid complaints that were pointless to point out.
But even after getting up at four am every morning to work late into the night you still agreed to hang out with the gang at their shared house, at first you thought it was idiotic so did Techno maybe that’s why you two and a few of your other friends didn’t join in on the whole living together fiasco.
As much as you loved your friends thirty plus people in one house, no matter how big, was a recipe for disaster. Apparently not. Two years later and they had all managed to make it work setting up chore schedules, and bathroom schedules that seemed to make the house run perfectly.
Still you couldn’t be more glad to end the night in your own apartment snuggled up in your large bed, which is why you’re confused as to why you agreed to hang out tonight knowing full well that Wilbur wanted to have a piss up.
Pretty much everyone had a drink in their hands expect for you. You instead, after having half of the sangria Quackity had made for you, had claimed the little area in the back corner of the big living room. Head tipped back again the sofa, eyes closed and pressing into something warm.
Techno had arrived half an hour after you did, his week had started off great, but by the end of it he couldn’t help but feel a little agitated. He hadn’t seen you the whole week and as much as he’d never admit it out loud, and definitely not to you, he’d missed you.
You were the only person he could truly relax around and he needed that. Has done since he met you. Ten years ago it was, you had been stood up, sitting at a bar quietly crying to yourself when he bumped into you pouring his whiskey on the rocks all down your back, soaking your dress and pulling a squeal from you. A squeal he still teases you for. But he spent the rest of the night doing everything he could think of to make you smile and laugh to make up for it. It worked and you’ve been friends ever since.
Techno weaved his way through the huge hallway into the large kitchen to grab a beer from the double door fridge offering small nods to those who greeted him on his way to the massive living room area. His curious eyes scanning the space until they landed on you, the corners of his lips turning up slightly at the sight before him.
With a shake of his head he sat down next to you perhaps a little too close but when you sighed so softly pressing yourself into his warmth he relaxed against the leather sofa. “Long week?” He asked watching with a knowing gaze as you nodded. Knowing because this would be one of the nights he’d have to get a very sleepy you into his car and all the way up to your apartment and into your bed.
Techno dragged his gaze away from you to watch Wilbur try and teach Tommy and Tubbo how to play poker. At that point Phil and his wife arrived, Phil immediately coming over to Techno giving him a bro hug and saying hi to you which revived a thumbs up and a lazy smile. No matter how hard you try to open your eyes they were just so damn heavy you couldn’t do it, Phil smiled anyway glancing at Techno when he huffed at you.
“Take her home dude.” Phil patted Techno’s shoulder making the latter nod passing his unopened beer to Phil before picking you up. It was meant to be bridal style but you clung to him subconsciously wrapping your legs around his waist. He adapted a big arm around your waist and another under your tush, glaring at those who made whooping noises or whistled too loud making you whine softly onto his neck.
“Alright bun we’re going, we’re going.” He soothed, the words feeling a little foreign on his monotonous tongue.
“Tec!” Tommy was quick to stop his beefy uncle hooking your little handbag onto his shoulder, the sight was enough to make Tommy snicker to himself as he walked away. With a roll of his eyes Techno left the large house rather happy he had managed to skip the get together.
—
You thanked Techno ten times over in the morning when you woke in your own bed, you knew exactly who got you there. You felt ridiculously bad resulting in you spending the whole morning and most of the afternoon baking him sweet treats while you waited for his reply text to see if he was coming over or wether you’d need to drop them at his.
Music played through out the kitchen, your cherry covered apron wrapped around your oversized T-shirt clad body as you iced the cupcakes to look like little Minecraft piggys giggling as you did so.
“Well isn’t this a sight.” You jumped back at the sound of Technos voice, looking up to see him grinning at you.
“What the fuck Tec!” You huffed dropping the icing bag to place your hands on your hips, he simply held up the spare key you’d given him before slipping it back into his pocket. “Dick.” You scoffed instantly regretting it when Techno gasped loudly, overexaggeratingly.
“Excuse you missy! I carry you home-“
“You drove.”
“Risk my life getting you up those stairs-“
“You always take the elevator.”
“Almost die trippin’ over the pile of dirty laundry-“
“It was one sock.”
“And this is the thanks I get?! Unbelievable.” He huffs crossing his muscular arms over his rather burly chest. You suppose you’ve never stopped to think about how big your best friend is, how good looking-
“Those better be for me.” He grumbles coming further into the kitchen freezing when he rounds the island you’re icing the cupcakes on to see your exposed legs. Clearing his throat and shaking off whatever that was, it’s not like he’s not seen it before. Hell he’s seen you in a bikini, this is nothing but he swears that’s his shirt as he walks closer.
“Yes they are Mr.Grumpy.” You smile when he pinches your hip slightly, his hulking form compared to you standing behind you, hovering over you as you work to get the pig just right. What you don’t expect, it really does take you by surprise and a warmth spreads in your stomach when he gently undoes the apron sitting on your hips only to redo it tighter.
It’s a simple act of helping but it has your cheeks warming like this man hasn’t done it before, like it’s new but it isn’t. “Thanks.” You internally praise yourself for not stuttering. Techno doesn’t even notice the slight tremor in your voice too focused of the that fact that you smell so good. Like vanilla.
Well maybe great minds think alike because his musky scent is now all your mind can focus on, it swirls around you stinking up the area around you, bursting your precious bubble replacing is with his cologne. Cinnamon and hint of tangerines? An odd combination but it smells so fucking nice on him, you just wanna bury your face in it.
“You missed the eyes.” He chuckled, eyes scanning over your face while you blink out of your little trance.
“Oh right.” You laugh stiffly, nervously. It makes Techno frown, he’s never heard you nervous around him. Others, yes. Him, never. That’s how it should be, yet you are. It makes him lean forward placing both palms on the worktop, essentially caging you in.
“What’s the matter bun?” He asks gruffly and as if by instinct your thighs press together, a small wiggle of your hips to create some unknowingly needed friction. His voice and that nickname, both of them usually so sweet and calming suddenly have a strange effect. Maybe it’s just you simply being touched starved? The loneliness catching up with you?
“Nothing.” It’s a blunt reply but it’s all you’ve got, you don’t dare turn around. How can you? Then you’d have to stare at his gorgeous face, you already feel his careful gaze burning holes into your head.
“Now I know that’s not true.” His breathy laugh skims over your skin making you shiver, he notices his hands sliding to your hips to turn you around, thumb and index finger keeping your chin locked so you have nowhere else to look but him. “Tell me bun, what’s troubling you? The long week?”
His voice, his eyes, his whole demeanour is too sincere it has a whimper slipping from you. The noise enough to make you both freeze, Techno’s eyes darkening.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You admit honestly, fists tightening in frustration. You hadn’t felt like this in a while always too busy with work to sit and wallow in your feelings, maybe that was a good thing because right now with Techno so close; someone you trusted and knew cared for you; your body was taking control, letting you natural instincts take over.
You needed him, and Techno understood. He understood the look in your eye from what he’d seen in his own. Moving a few inches forward he wrapped his arms around your waist, one hand sliding up to tangle itself in your hair soothingly. Before you could even think about freezing up, “Relax bun, I got you.” He encouraged making you melt slipping your own arms around his muscular form.
“What do you need from me?” He asks after a few minutes feeling you grow restless in his hold. He knew you needed more but what he says next takes you back slight, “Do you need an old school finger fuck and make out session on the couch?” He asks jokingly though there is an air of seriousness to it. Especially with what he says next, his beautiful eyes sparkling with want, “Or do you need to sit on my face and let me lick you until your cum runs down my jaw?”
He squints when you whimper gripping his arm tighter, his head tilting slightly as he looks you over “Or maybe you just need a good fuck?” It takes you a second to comprehend but his hand’s already sliding up your leg, his rough palm against your soft skin.
“Mmmhmm, yeah, I think that’s it. Here, lift my t-shirt up a little so you can slide these panties off.” You blush at his words but do as he says, watching in almost shock when he drops to his knees large hands sliding up your things guiding you to open your legs slightly.
“Oh god your thighs are so soft bunny.” He murmurs against your skin, his nose dragging over the part where your thigh and your stomach meet. “And this pretty pussy, I can’t believe you’ve kept this hidden Bunny. So selfish.” He chided playfully.
The grin broad as daylight disappeared between you thighs, your head falling back, hands seeking purchase on the kitchen countertops. He placed a pressured kiss right on your clit listening to the hitch of your breath. Techno swears he’s never heard a sound so pretty than the moan he pulled from you when he wrapped his lips around little nub.
He wants to work night and day to make sure you never stop making that noise. Techno watched your wetness trickling down your thigh quick to lick it up not letting any go to waste. It’s as if his first taste transformed him from the composed grump of a man you knew to a starving man who had a three course meal laid out in front of him, your eyes rolled back, sinful moans echoing in the room.
He moved his tongue like he was possessed, licking into your clenching hole as if he was digging for something before closing his lips around your clit and sucking it so hard you swear it will be bruised tomorrow. His harsh and continuous actions on your cunt had one of your hands grasping onto Techno’s hair, your back arching as you started a slow grind on his tongue.
“That’s it Bunny make yourself cum, use my to tongue.” He hums into your weeping entrance, but you’re so focused on the feeling of euphoria coursing through your veins you don’t hear him, all your senses being taken over and before you know it you’re cumming, drenching the lower half of his chin though he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, slurping down all you give him, trying to pull more from you.
Though with a push of your hand against his head and whine of sensitivity he conceded rising from his knees instantly pulling you close into his hold, lips pressing against your own.
With one roll of his hips he’s inside you and not giving you a second to comprehend it. No, he’s already pulling back and slamming into you over and over again watching as you arch your body into his.
Techno is swift and slick with how he manages to pick you up, placing you on the worktop and deliver a hard thrust quickly after leaving you short of breath.
His large hand slides up over your throat applying slight pressure to push you down against the counter. Then up to your mouth, two thick fingers slipping inside letting you moan and whine around them, saliva dribbling down your cheeks. Neither of you care so engrossed in the feeling of being fucked so thoroughly.
Your moans down right pornographic, when he hit that spongy rough patch inside you. Striking it over and over again, Techno had never looked more happy than when he watched your head fall back, eyes rolling with it.
“Fuck, yes bun clench around me like that, take all that I’m giving you like a good girl.” They way he grunted the words into your ear before sucking your earlobe into his hot mouth had you whining around his fingers. White hot pleasure engulfing your messy form, nothing had ever felt better than this moment.
Your body felt like it was burning with each thrust of his hard cock, all you could do was lie there on the kitchen counter and dribble around his fingers while he fucked your pussy ruthlessly. If this was his version of a good fuck, you’d happily have it everyday.
The coil in your lower abdomen tightened and tightened, until you shattered on his cock, cumming harshly as the waves of pleasure rolled over you so intensely, your walls clenching around him tightly. He snapped his hips into you quicker chasing his own high, wanting to fill you up desperately.
“Please Tec, cum inside me!” That did it for him, absolutely finished him. He groaned thrusting into you so deep as he finished inside you just like you begged him to.
“Fuck bun, you did so good for me. Just relax, breathe, I’ve got you.” He soothed blinking away the last remaining blur of his orgasm, focusing on you and the aftercare you not only needed but deserved.
Cupcakes forgotten about Techno picked you up and carried you to your room laying you on your bed then helping you remove his shirt.
“So fucking pretty bun.” He shook his head staring down at your body, you were ready to disagree absolutely sure you looked like the mess he’d certainly fucked you into but the way his eyes darkened as they raked over your body had your mouth closing.
“Now, before I start running you a bath. I need another taste.” He groaned kneeling in front of the bed, grabbing your ankles to pull you closer to his face.
“But Tec you already-“
“No but’s bun, you’ve been keeping this fucking delicacy from me for far too long. I’ve got a lot of pussy worshiping to make up for and I’m sure she would agree.”
First of all Technoblade has his cape 24/7 365 days a year
And its normal for it to smell like him
But he often has to go, being called my his comrads or just doing his jobs
You get lonly af, and only thing you have is Steve
So when he finaly comes home to rest, he give you his cape for you to fix it and wash it
It's not often for him to wake up and not find you by his side
But at the other hand, when you do wake up before him you just start your day
"Y/n?"
He calls for you, but no answer. He went in to a small panic.
"Y/n?"
He calls once again while getting out of your shared bed. Slowly stumbling down the leaders.
"Y/n?"
Techno was now in full panic. Going to reach for his cape on the small stand, so he could search for you outside, but it wasn't there. He didn't care enogh about right now, he cared that you are safe
Reaching for his sord on the other side of the small stand, and quickly going outside. Only to find you wraped in his red cape.
"It smells like you"
You said simply
"I smell like me too, now go back to bed"
And with that he scooped his ball of live and went back upstairs to your shared bedroom
this is an incomplete story I started on last year, and I never managed to finish it and probably won’t as I find it hard to write for techno anymore. but I figured I wouldn’t let the stuff I wrote go completely to waste, so here you go :)
+ based on taylor swift’s “all too well” ten minute ver. but techno actually has a reason to be an asshole unlike jake :)
++ if you know the song, you already know it’s gonna be an angsty and fluffy mess
stepping through the door to his cabin you let out a sigh at the feeling of the sweet warmth of his home surrounding you, quickly closing the door behind you to prevent the cold air from crawling up your neck. the cold from the snowy biome he chose to live in was no joke.
a pair of arms snaked around you from behind, cold lips placing a chaste kiss to your cheek. you giggled.
"mmm, I’m thinking rabbit stew for dinner tonight, whaddya say?" you turned around to face him, swinging your arms over his shoulders with a smile on your face.
"that sounds wonderful." your lips met his, cold and a bit chapped, but soft nonetheless, pulling away shortly after. he pressed his lips into a thin line, blood flowing to his cheeks as the voices went crazy for you in his head. luckily, for him, you couldn’t hear them, or else he’d probably die. he shedded himself from his cape, your eyes lingering on him as he did so, admiring his effortless charm, wondering how you could ever be this lucky.
once shaking yourself out of your daze you reached for the red scarf around your neck, unwrapping it and letting it hang from the railing attached to the stairs along with your thick and wooly coat that protected your body from the icy air outside.
walking into the kitchen, techno was already chopping up the potatoes, white sleeves rolled up to his elbows and hair tied into a bun. the sight alone was breathtaking to you, and he didn’t even know it. you walked over to stand by his side, grabbing the carrots on the counter to start chopping them up. techno glanced at you without moving his head so you wouldn't notice, and you didn’t.
you didn’t notice.
you grunted as you failed at your second attempt of mounting the horse, your leg just not long enough to swing over the saddle. about to try for a third time, a pair of hands landed on your waist, making you halt your movements.
“here, let me help you.” the warmth of techno’s fingers melted through the material of your clothes. you felt your blood rush to your cheeks. you uttered out a small “thanks,” letting him lift you onto the horse with little power needed from you.
you grabbed a hold of the rope attached to the horse to lead and stop him, waiting for techno to get on his horse again, watching as he does so with ease.
“alright, let’s go.”
you wanted to go for a ride together in the forest a few miles away from the snowy cabin you were held up at most of the time, for a change of scenery, or just to spend some peace and quiet time together if you will.
techno turned his head to look at you, seeing if you’d found your way around on the horse, meaning for it to just be a quick glance. but when he saw how you smiled sweetly at the horse as you ran a gentle hand over his fur, he couldnt help but to admire you. your were so… kind-natured. innocent, sweet. completely different from him, yet here you were - his. his heart tugged in his chest as the voices in his head kept repeating compliments aimed towards you.
“techno!”
with a last minute jerk to the rope, techno just about managed to miss falling down the deep ravine one block away from him. he swallowed, looking over at you again as you giggled at him. he recollected himself, moving on ahead of you casually to look calm and collected.
you reached the woods, the snowy path you’d been following slowly disappearing and being replaced by the beautiful array of colours from the autumn leaves. your eyes widened at your colourful surroundings, not having been used to this type of biome since you got into a relationship with techno and stayed with him. and as much as you loved staying with techno in the snowy biome, you still missed what you were used to.
distracted by the scenery, you didn’t notice the creeper sneaking up on you from between the trees.
but your horse did.
kicking his front legs in the air, you screeched, holding on tight to the rope as your horse started running with full speed down the path and away from the creeper. away from techno. now was the time you really wished you knew more about riding a horse. you probably should've listened more when techno helped you learn.
your hair blew back from the powerful wind, eyes squinted as you tried your best to make your horse stop, but despite your effort, nothing seemed to work.
suddenly, a hard tug to the rope you were holding, and everything stood still again, no more cold wind. techno appeared on his horse beside you, pink braid messy from the wind blowing into his face and brows furrowed. he quickly got off his horse, keeping a hold on the rope as he approached you.
“come on, boy, it’s okay. that nerd is far gone.” you laughed a little at his choice of words, noticing a little gunpowder on his hand as he reached out to you. “you okay?” his eyes drooped, a sincere look crossing his face as you placed your hand in his. warm, as always.
“yeah, I’m good. y’know, just glad I didn’t die from that,” you smiled, letting him help you down. he rolled his eyes.
“maybe you're being a bit overdramatic. I don't think you could die from that.”
your brows furrowed, arms crossed over your chest. overdramatic?
he swallowed.
“I mean, y’know, you’re the lover of the blood god, I think you're too strong for such a weak death.”
you squinted your eyes at him and shot him a small glare. he shot you a lopsided smile, letting out a breath once you turned around to get on the horse again.
victory.
he watched you struggle mounting the horse again. “d’you need help with that?”
“no!”
“ah! this is you?”
you picked up the photo from the counter, just in time before he could snatch it away from you. you quickly held it to you, sending him a mischievous smirk as you looked at it. he sighed.
it was a picture from when he was little, barely taller than wilbur who stood beside him in the photo with his arm slung over his shoulders, little tommy peeking at the camera between the two brothers. you felt a pang in your chest as your eyes softened looking at the photo. techno had his long hair in a braid, hanging from his shoulder and down his chest, tusks peeking out from under his upper lip, glaring at will as he pulled him close, a bright smile on the brunettes face. techno’s glasses were the same, but the scar that usually ran down the middle of his eye was yet to be seen.
it was… so precious.
“aww, look at you tech! even back then you hair was in a — braid…”
you turned, looking at techno with a faltering smile, watching as his cheeks and ears glowed a bright red. he itched his neck, keeping his eyes glued to the ground.
“tech? you okay?” you reached out, gentle fingers pushing a strand of hair out of his face, same hand cupping his face to make him look at you. he did, eyes gloomy and brows upturned.
“they hate me.”
your face fell, breath hitching at his words. how could he say that?
“what? honey, they don’t hate you. you’re their brother-“
“brother? what kind of a brother am I, y/n? a good one? a brother who leaves his family behind? I would understand if they aren’t very fond of me.”
your lips parted, eyes open wide as you listened intently, observing his icy orbs.
techno didn’t mean to suddenly unload his emotional baggage on you, but you seeing that photo - it reminded him of why the ones he loved were not in his life anymore, and it reminded him that you might become an addition to that list. as a man known for control and power, he has little of that in his head. he has no idea if the voices are gonna betray him again like they’d once done before and leave you, abandon you. lose you. his fears were coming out, crawling out of his mouth in no words and-
he sobbed.
head landing on your shoulder, he hunched over and clung to your body, releasing the tears he hadn’t cried for so long, years, into your shoulder. you found it hard to take in his sudden outburst, not having ever seen this side of the piglin before.
you quickly shook off your own feelings, knowing that now was a time where you had to think of him and only him. you placed your hands on the back of his head, over his hair as you held him close to you, kissing his temple. looking down at the photo still in your hand, you wondered what kind of past he must’ve had to feel this way, to feel so… alone. even when he still had so many people who loved him.
“techno.” you managed to pull him slightly away from you, teary eyes staring into yours as you wiped his tears on his cheeks away. “tell me what happened.”
he sniffed, unbuttoning the top button to his shirt for air. “which part?”
“all of it.”
they deserve nothing. they’re merely just another peasant who’s gonna end up stabbing us in the back.
techno stared at you as you slept peacefully beside him, hand still resting on his bare chest. he swallowed, eyes clouded with darkness. he squeezed them shut to get the voices to stop.
do it now. while they’re weak, disadvantaged. one stab through the neck and we’re safe, free. alone.
techno shot up from the bed, panting and clutching a hand over his heart. he groaned, wiping the sweat off of his forehead, but to no avail - his whole body was completely covered.
he hadn’t even heard you stir awake, the only thing he’d been able to hear being the voices, murderous, merciless voices roaming his mind.
“techno, what’s wrong?” you asked, but received no response other than the loud breathing he was letting out as he heaved. “hey.” you placed a hand on his shoulder, to which he immediately flinched away from your touch, as if you’d burned him with your fingertips. he stared back at you with wide eyes, backing away from you on the bed. your slight feeling of worry turned into a feeling much worse.
“get away from me,” he panted, moving further away from you once he noticed you trying to get closer.
“techno what’s wrong? talk to me, please! I’m only trying to he-“
“please just get away from me, y/n…”
you gaped at him as he stood up from the bed, claws scraping his scalp as he held his head, facing the ground. he heaved, shoulders moving up and down to his breathing as it grew louder along with the voices. he grunted, placing a hand on the wall as if he couldn’t stand up straight.
ignoring his words, you stood from the bed too, finding his health and happiness much more important than whatever reason he had for asking you to stay away from him. your heart started beating faster, anxious about him. what was happening? why was he acting like this? you’d never seen this happen to him before, and you were too desperate to know what was going on in his head to listen to his desperate words.
you grabbed his forearm, trying to get him to turn to you, but as soon as you did, the air from your lungs left your body as he pushed you harshly against the wall. a cold feeling on your neck, and without being able to move you could feel the blade pressing into your skin, a drop of warm blood running down your neck from where the blade had broken skin. you stopped breathing, looking into his eyes as tears fell from yours. he was still heaving, eyes black and hot breath fanning your face as he showed off his tusks from his open mouth.
“I said get the fuck away from me,” he growled, eyes unrecognizable as they stared into yours. you whimpered, clenching your hand around the wrist holding the blade to your neck. your nails dug into his skin, not wanting to hurt him, but fearing that not doing so would end up getting you even more hurt. though nothing felt as painful as what you were feeling right now. this man- beast, before you was not techno. it couldn’t be…
you cried out his name, closing your eyes in fear of what would happen. and then, the pressure was removed from your neck, a shaky pair of arms embracing you as the clang of the blade hitting the floor surrounded the room.
“y/n I- the voices I can’t-“
you gasped for air, pushing him off of you with all of your power and sobbing as you looked at your lover, disbelief coursing through you. your bottom lip shook as you cried, shaky hands clinging to your own body in a way to try and cope with what just happened. blood was smeared on your neck from the cut he made with the blade, his soaked eyes widening at the sight. he huffed, heart sinking to the bottom of his stomach. what had he done? the one thing he’d ever wanted to do was protect you, and now he was the one hurting you. “y/n please, I’m so sorry. something took over me I- you know that I’d never try to hurt you, right?”
he inched slightly closer to you, tears that were forming in his eyes finally falling when you backed away from him in fear. you just cried harder at his words, smearing blood on your face when you placed your hands over your eyes, sobbing into your hands. words couldn’t explain how you felt - betrayal? shock? anger? sadness? none of them felt like the right word. all you knew was that you didn’t feel good.
and neither did techno.
he backed away from you, realizing that the only way for him to make you feel at least a little bit better, safer, was if you were far away from him. far, far away.
he was out of the bedroom before you had the chance to stop him, looking up from your wet hands to see him gone along with his red cape and sword. wide-eyed, you looked around the room, contemplating wether you should go after him or not. the man you loved, your soulmate. the man who just attacked you.
techno left hooveprints in the snow as he ran, away away away. as far as his legs would let him. he didn’t know what his mind could do now without his control. he didn’t know if he was capable of keeping you safe from himself. all he knew was that he could never hurt you again. not like this.
he reached the woods, huffing out a breath as he stopped by a tree to catch his breath. the need for oxygen in his lungs blocked out the sound of loud gallops coming his way.
you spotted his blood red cape, royal colour standing out from the dull trees. “come on, Carl. we’ve gotta get him,” you mumbled to yourself and the horse you were sat on, speeding up as you entered the forest. “tech!”
turning around with wide eyes, techno’s heart sped up as he saw you there, getting off the horse with ease. he took a step back. “y/n, please, I don’t wanna hurt you again,” he pleaded, holding his hand out to prevent you from coming closer to him.
you signed sadly, heart glowing with love so powerful that you swear he could see it through your skin. unfortunately, he couldn’t. so you needed to tell him, or else you were scared you’d never see him again.
“honey, please. let’s talk about this,” you stepped closer to him, attempting to get close to him without scaring him off. he didn’t step back this time. instead, he faced the ground, ears downturned in shame. he watched a tear fall from his eye and melt into the snow below him. “I know you’d never try to hurt me, tech.”
your hand was on his cold cheek now, lifting his head up to look at you. he did, tearful and pouty. it almost made you cry. you know he didn’t mean to hurt you, you could see it. but that just left you confused with what had happened. and something told you he was just as confused.
“please,” you begged, running your fingers through his hair. “I love you.” techno closed his eyes shut at your words, giving into your touch as he melted in your arms, crying softly into your shoulder. you let your tears fall silently as well, watching as the sun started rising in the horizon as you stood embracing your broken lover in the middle of the snowy woods.
he hadn’t answered you back then. he wished he’d been different.
your eyes lit up in excitement as you spotted a green and red figure from the window despite the blaring sun shining onto the snow, blinding you. you bursted out of the door, running towards the two men wearing barely any clothes. but you didn’t care. because he was back. techno was back, after a whole month since that night.
you threw your arms around him, crashing into his body. his usual warmth surrounded you. oh, how you’d missed that warmth. you shut your eyes, trying your hardest not to cry as the piglin embraced you back, bearing the same expression on his face as you did.
phil continued walking to the cabin, muttering a small “hey y/n” and then leaving you to it.
“you’re back earlier than expected,” you said, running a finger over his spine as you took him in.
“yeah… puffy said it seemed like I was getting better faster than we’d thought. so she sent me back,” he explained, monotone yet heart pounding incredibly hard for you.
you pulled away from him, cupping his face to get a look at him. he looked… calm. better. sending him to puffy’s therapy must’ve done something by the looks of it. but of course you couldn’t know since you hadn’t talked about it yet. but all you could think of right now was how much you’d missed him.
you placed your lips on his, kissing him gently to get used to his lips again. you’d missed his kisses, his presence, him him him. he kissed back, pulling your chest against his as he soothed his thumb over your chin. he tilted his head for a deeper angle, letting his tongue run across your bottom lip. you let him in, electricity shooting through your body, leaving you with a fuzzy feeling.
he pulled away and wrapped his red cape around you, resting his chin on your head. “I missed you so much, kid.”
and the words he spoke were true. he’d missed you so much that when he left you it felt like his lungs would collapse and his blood would run dry and like his whole body was shutting down. he loved you more than he’d ever thought he’d be capable of loving anyone or anything. like you were the sole purpose of his life, the end goal. you were everything to him.
and yet he had this feeling that he shouldn’t be with you. that he should stay far away from you, like you weren’t meant to be. it was draining and it was there with him whenever he thought of you or was in your presence - this breathtaking and anxious feeling ripping the love right out of his heart.
he squeezed you to him, kissing the top of your head. you smiled into his cape. “I missed you too. so much.”
note: okay I absolutely love writing volleyball!au-- it is so much fun and it remind me of back in my day! :'D Kisses! <3
note pt2: he's a link to the sex haver's volleyball team here!
summary: what the SBI plays/acts like on a high school volleyball team
Now let’s talk about our starter’s positions
Tommy is our setter no doubt
It mainly has to do with the fact that he has the right height and hands for it
Like he’s quite tall and lanky, so it’s quite easy for him to get to the ball without disturbance and his hand’s shape are just perfect for setting
I feel like he’s been playing forever because of his brothers
Like when he was little, he saw Wilbur and Techno playing so he was like “I want to do whatever they’re doing”
They ended up roping Tommy into their game (reluctantly) and showed him how to set because they wanted to spike
He picked setting up surprisingly quick, so he was forever their personal setter, even now– especially now
Now Tommy loves to taunt the other team, like it’s a problem
Though the rest of the team doesn’t mind because at least he takes it out on someone else instead of them (they’ve learned to ignore it anyway)
One way or another, Tommy loves to set and very good at it for how young he is
Tubbo is our libero
I mean he’s kinda tiny, but it works out for him because being tiny mean being closer to the ground
Unlike Quackity, Tubbo has been playing as long as Tommy
And like Tommy, Wilbur and Techno also roped him into it
Tubbo came over to their house one day to hang out when Wilbur and Techno we starting practice
They went “tiny man” and grabbed him before telling him to try to keep the ball off the ground when they spiked it
Conveniently enough for the brothers, Tubbo absolutely loved it to the point when he’d come over every time they’d practice to join in
Besides that fact, Tubbo can dive like no other
Like I said before, the perks of being shorter means being closer to the ground, meaning that you can get to the spiked ball faster
And on the terms of taunting the other team: he doesn’t. Tubbo is more tame, so he mainly whispers comments to himself, meaning: he doesn’t actually say it to the other team’s faces unless they’re being dicks
Technoblade would be our right side hitter
He might not be super tall but he definitely makes up for it with his build and timing skills
Unlike Wilbur or Ranboo, Techno can’t just stand with his arms up to block because he not 6’5+
So over the years he’s learned how to time when someone will spike or push the ball to the point where it’s almost impossible for him to not block a ball
He’s also been playing since he found out about the sport which actually led him to become the captain for the SBI team
During elementary school, he went to the first game his father, Phil, coached
I mean, he knew that Phil played back in highschool and college, but had absolutely no idea what it was
From the moment the game began, he knew that he wanted to play volleyball
But, like Punz, he gets injured so much
Being a right side hitter is known to cause many injuries, because of spiking, but holy shit it’s a lot
Everyone’s pretty sure he like getting injured, because whenever he starts bleeding he plays better
He’s literally been like “I can feel my nose bleeding… I love it 👹” it freaks everyone out
Wilbur plays middle, I mean look at him
This man towers over almost everyone, like it’s insane
The first time you see this man on the court, it’s absolutely terrifying
It doesn’t help that he has a 100 yard stare when he walks out onto the court
People think it’s because he wants to practically kill his opponents, but he’s really just zoning out to think of how to fluster the other team
Yeah, he’s a flirt on the court– big surprise
When he starts it up with the other team, they become so shocked by the change in demeanor that it has messed up more people than anyone on the SBI team can count
The whole team actually has a counter for how many people Wilbur’s caused to mess up because of the surprise
He gets a point almost every time, because the guys who are supposed to block him get disoriented to the point where they forget to block him
And Wil has been playing as long as Techno
The night Techno and Phil came home from the game, Techno rushed into their shared room to rave to him about the wonders of volleyball
He was so intrigued by Techno’s excitement that he decided that he’ll try it with his twin
And bada bing bada boom– a star player!
Jack plays outside hitter
He’s a very lanky guy and about average height, so those two combinations make it very easy for him to play both backrow and front row
Though, he’s mainly in the back, his build allows him to be able to jump very high if he needs to
Like, when he first started playing, he went to jump to block and didn’t realize how high he could jump
This man near ended up on top of the net because of how hard he freaked out when he found out he had a five foot vertical
The team now calls him Spring Bean and you have Tommy to thank for that one
Now Jack like to taunt people
He tried flirting with the other team, but got humbled so fast when they just laughed at him for his attempts
He once had a big ego, now he just has hurt feelings and a slightly smaller ego
But back to taunting
He and Tommy like to gang up on other people and get very loud with it, because they’re on different sides of the court starting out
And like I said before, the SBI have just learned to block them out, because they’re absolutely obnoxious
Ranboo plays the opposite hitter
As we all know, Ranboo is a giant
And with being a giant comes the ability to block so much easier and have a massive arm on him
Because he’s so big, it’s very easy for him to spike the ball to the point where some teams have slightly coward, because of his infamous abilities
Now Ranboo discovered volleyball with the help of himself
He had to stay after school one day and heard something coming from the gym
He investigated and found Wilbur and Techno absolutely whaling the ball over the net to a poor Tubbo who was still digging them… reluctantly
He was already friends with Tubbo and Tommy’s self-proclaimed “rival” so the both of them noticed him by the gym’s entrance and had two completely different reactions
You can probably guess what they were
Anyway, Ranboo wanted to try spiking, so Tommy (reluctantly) set him up and he slammed the ball at Tubbo
Yeah, Phil begged him to be on the team
Then we have our lovely coaches Phil and Schlatt
Let’s just say that they have very different approached when it comes to coaching, but at least the ways mesh well with each other
Phil, we love Phil
He’s our main coach, who does the majority of the coaching and training for the boys
He’s the one who will legitimately train the boys and keep them on track while Schlatt does what he does
Schlatt, the assistant coach, is mainly there to do drills
Like that’s the only reason he’s there
He loves making up drills for the team to do
They’re really helpful in the long run, but they’re an absolute pain in the ass now
Both coaches treat the team like family: Schatt’s more like that one uncle from your Dad’s side who gives you Vodka when you’re 12 and Phil treats the team like he’s they’re father (and he is to 3 of them)
Phil and Schlatt get along mostly, besides when Schlatt first started coaching and their two different coaching styles didn’t mesh yet
It wasn’t pretty
Now for how they act on court… yeah
They’re just a bunch of menices on the court like it’s not even funny
I mean: Techno and his weird blood thing… that’s enough to freak someone out let alone the rest of the team
I feel like it took the team a minute to be able to work so well together, because of all their quirks
They became fast friends, but each of them have their own monstrosity that they add to the court so the rest of the team had to get used to it
What can I say? They’re a rambunctious team.
The amount a chaos that radiates off of the SBI is enough to disorient anyone
The only team who doesn’t get seriously affected it the Feral Boys, but that’s only because they have they’re own set of quirks to practically cancel out the SBI’s
There’s a reason they’re rival teams
Now, like every team, there is some crowd favorites
And one of those players is most definitely Wilbur
He just has that charm to him that makes so many people swoon and he knows it too
Then you have Tommy who the crowd finds oddly endearing and he hates it so much, because he just wants people to think he’s tough
It’s okay Tommy, we love you anyway
But it’s not just the boys who are rambunctious, it’s Schlatt too
Poor Phil, he has to deal with both his assistant coach and his team’s antics
He tried to hone them when he first started coaching the boys, but later realized that it was pointless and just gave up
He actually started giving them tips on how to still do what they wanted, but with a bit more class
It somehow worked, literally no one knows, but whatever
In the end, the SBI team is like one big, dysfunctional family who never let’s any other team mess with their players
They have their whole history together and it’s quite respected in the league
All they know is that everything’s all part of the game
Summary: Yandere!Technoblade. Fake gods are worshiped with wine and flowers; real gods require blood.
Need to Know: They/Them. Yandere!Technoblade / Enabler!Reader. established relationship. DARKFIC & LIGHT SMUT PLEASE READ WARNINGS VERY CAREFULLY !!
A/N: 2755 words. hey holy shit read the warnings i mean it. this really isn't for everyone. but anyways i started this months ago lol and it makes me feel some type of way. probably OOC as all fuck. if you do end up reading this, 1. is it coherent? 2. is it any good? :/
Warnings: Romanticisation/Rationalisation of Yandere Behaviour; NON-GRAPHIC SMUT (no genitals specified), GRAPHIC KNIFE-PLAY BLOOD-PLAY AND PAIN-PLAY, SEMI-VIOLENT BODY WORSHIP?? OBJECTIFICATION. Violence. Scarification. Bondage. Mutual Obsession. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat
Citrus Scale: ❤️ GRAPEFRUIT ❤️
{ yandere!dsmp masterpost }
He gets antsy in isolation; the voices are hungry, and fresh bruises will never compare to cherry-red blood on the snow, on his hands, like wine the way you'd seen him savour it before the regret flashes across his face. Blood for the Blood God cheered like the fleeting high was worth the exhaustion the whole ordeal brought with it. You'd seen it time and again; violence simply for violence sake was tiring. It's been a long time since he'd felt like killing for anything or anyone that wasn't you, and since you're by his side in the tundra, there was little reason for him to jump to violence, or at least, violence you didn't relish in.
Because you basked in reminders of his power, finesse, how easily he could wreak devastation, and there was something thrilling about when he turned those skills upon you, knowing he loved you too much to break you beyond repair. But there was also something intoxicating when he almost would, when he'd spend days lavishing praise upon you as he cared for you, tended to the wounds he'd inflicted, nursed you back to health.
In the split second after he'd land a hit while sparring, and he's breathing heavy, eyes wild, and the pain hasn't hit you yet, you see the way his eyes light up. This time it had been a deep gash in your cheek, which had genuinely startled you, and he turns immediately, apologising, saying he lost himself in the moment.
"Don't worry about me," you tell him as he takes your face in his hands, the contact stinging as blood begins to seep from the wounds, "you wouldn't kill me," you assured him, and it's as if he needed to hear the words out loud to believe them, his gaze softening, your hands resting on his hips, "and if you did, we both know you would have your reasons."
"You're so..." but he can't even finish the compliment, syrupy affection in his eyes as he looks at you, still holds your face. He can't find the words in this moment, cant say what you know he's thinking, 'you bleed for me' but you can still hear it. His gaze is endearing as he looks at his own hand on your cheek, before holding it up in the sunlight, your blood shiny and slick on his fingers.
You take his hand in yours, love unspoken but well heard as you softly kiss his knuckles. Carefully, you bring his hand back to your cheek, the stinging wound and the warm, red proof that you were alive. When you pull him in for a kiss, he's holding your face tighter this time, the pressure searing beneath his touch as you kiss him; the tense set of his shoulders had eased, however, and to you, that's all that mattered.
The moment, he tells you later, soothed the voices, at least for the time being. You, stretched out next to him in bed, carefully applying bandaids and ice packs to your more recent training wounds, make a noise of interest.
"I don't like hurting you like that," he admits, voice low, sounding almost remorseful. Instinctively you turn your attention from your bandage application, to him, curling an arm over his chest, resting your chin on his shoulder.
"Like what?" Because he's not one for admitting remorse, especially not about something like this; you've got well cared for scars to the contrary.
"Like in a way we haven't discussed," it takes him a long moment to find the words, but you know its still not entirely the truth; as if your awareness of the altercation was crucial to his enjoyment of it. He got caught up like this a lot, when injuries were accidents. The problem was that it wasn't his intention, it wasn't premeditated; you never minded the lack of warning, he'd had your complete trust for as long as he'd had your heart. You knew what he was capable of, but that he loved you, that's why you trusted him. He, however, knew what he was capable of, and loved you, which is why accidents scared him half to death.
"But it felt good, didn't it? Better than usual," as you say that, he looks to you, sharp and calculating, gaze focused on the patching job he'd done on your cheek earlier, "do you want that? The blood?"
"I don't need it," he says softly, kissing your nose, "I like what we have, I like training with you, you don't-"
"But do you want it?" You ask, reaching up to touch his cheek, your fingertips feather light as you trace where the scar would be on him, and his eyes close for a moment. He leans into your touch.
"The things I crave," he begins, before amending with the faintest smile, "the things other than you, don't matter out here; I'm keeping us safe. The violence for the sake of blood, it's exhausting to keep searching for," he groaned faintly, before adding, "and dangerous," his gaze slides to you, and you know he's not concerned about himself. You, however, held his face for a long moment.
"And what of blood without violence?" You ask softly; he goes very still, breath caught alongside the thought, "Blood for the Blood God," When you lower your hand to his chest, his eyes open. Dark and thoughtful, there's hesitation there, confusion almost.
"You don't know what you're offering," his tone is like ice water, a shock to your system with how cold it is. There's no warning when he sits up, out of your embrace, leaving you cold and confused, "I'm trying to keep you safe." Accusatory, as if you're in the wrong, as if you should know better.
He leaves before you've even formulated a response, tense and seemingly furious and you have no idea how or why the situation changed so dramatically. It's always hard to try and sleep alone nowadays, but you don't have much of a choice.
Techno comes home still wreathed in the heat and horrible sufler smell of the Nether, sweet words on his lips as he curls into bed beside you. None of them are an actual apology, but he's got a talented hand between your thighs as he tells you he loves you, and it's enough to ease your fretting, half asleep mind for the time being.
It seems safer to leave that topic well enough alone for the time being, but it doesn't leave your mind. The thoughts that begin to haunt you encroach on every part of your life. Intrusive, idle chatter starts up when you're training and the sun glances off his blade and catches your gaze, and won't shut up as you're preparing dinner together, and the chatter roars with approval whenever you so much as get a paper cut. Perhaps this is what it's like to experience the voices that clamour for blood and violence in your love's head, though more and more you're sure it's your mind's way of encouraging you, because there are moments where Techno looks at you, eyes dark with a barely concealed desperation, and all thoughts in your mind go silent.
"Don't look at me like that if you're not going to do anything about it," you teased, catching him in one of those dark, thoughtful moments he was becoming increasingly prone to. Techno, however, is pointedly quiet, averting his gaze, light from the fire making him seem somehow even more dramatic, "you've been trapped in there a lot lately," settling yourself on the sofa beside him, you curl up by him, cheek against his shoulder.
Still, he remains quiet.
The crackle of the fire fills the otherwise silent room, though Techno shifts to wrap his arm around you, pulling you a little closer. You feel when he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
"Wish I could be trapped in here," he mumbles against you, drawing circles on your shoulder with his finger, "figure out how you live like you don't feel fear."
"I have you," you respond with absolute, blunt sincerity.
"What?" It sounds as if he genuinely didn't expect your response.
"I have you," it comes out a murmur, angling your face to his, nose to nose as your gaze locks with his, "why would I ever feel afraid." His pupils are blown so wide with want that you're half afraid you'll get lost in them. He must feel the erratic beating of your heart, must know the thrill you feel in this moment -
"You should fear what I want to do to you when you say things like that," his voice is low and you feel like you could melt at the implications, which was probably not his intention, but you didn't care.
"And yet you don't even do anything," you sighed languidly, eyelashes fluttering as you find your gaze dropping to his lips, "what a tease -" but then there's two fingers in your mouth, effectively shutting you up.
"And if I tore you apart, would that make you happy?" He practically snarls, but you angle your head to make sure he can see the dreamy look in your eyes. After a few moments of intensity, he moves his hand from your jaw, your mouth, to grip your thigh, to pull you closer.
"Is it what you want?" You feel elated, all kinds of heady and fire-warm. This is the precipice, the moment where he yet again understands you truly mean you'd do anything for him, and his hesitation will evaporate -
"More than anything," he admits, as if his honesty had left him breathless, and he kisses you hard before you have time to think. Pulling you into his lap, he takes the opportunity to fist his hand in your hair. When he pulls hard, it's the first of many wonderfully aching, stinging, bruising moments of the night.
And you learn that there is no blood without violence, not for the Blood God...
There's a sharp pain the moment the blade first breaches your skin, metal along your sternum cool before the pain brings with it heat. You try to bite back your yelp, but can't quite manage it. You've been cut before but never so deliberately, not by someone who looks at you like Techno does now. Techno, sitting carefully on your thighs, doesn't seem to acknowledge it; he drags the blade down the centre of your chest with an almost agonising unwaivability, tears springing to your eyes, trying not to squirm, to make the pain worse.
"Techno," you whimper, his name escaping you almost involuntarily, nervously tugging at your wrist bindings above your head. There's something dark and strangely detached in Techno's gaze as he meets yours.
"I'm okay," you murmur unconvincingly, "I- it hurts more than I thought it would is all, I'm sorry I'm-" though for all your babbling you don't even consider asking him to stop. He presses the flat side of the blade to your ribs and reaches out with his free hand to carefully wipe away your tears.
"You're so good," there's something hungry in his eyes, "so good to me... beautiful like this." And something clicks in your brain; you'd do anything to keep him talking to you like that, looking at you like that.
"More- please, again," you choke out, a desperate gasp as pain and pleasure weave together in your mind. Something about the way you've already begun to beg has his breath catching in his throat, an animalistic noise escaping him. Already his self restraint is all but shredded; before you knew he'd hesitate, or check in with you, but now -
"More what?" A demand for an answer. The blade is ice cold and feather light against your skin.
"Blood, please," stutters from your lips as you try to lean up to kiss him. Instead, he keeps one hand firm on your shoulder against the table, wearing a pleased smile as he instead dips to keys you, "my love, make me bleed."
He seems to derive pleasure from the way you whimper against his lips, your faint noises of pain as he carefully carves into the skin of your sternum while kissing you. It's starting small, he tells you, at least for now, having left a simple geometric pattern on your sternum that he admires as he fucks you. He lavishes you with praise, works hard to get you off but leaves you a bloody mess until well after the afterglow has faded.
When he tells you it will leave a beautiful scar, something inside you lights up with joy, with love.
"I can take more, I -" already you're babbling, offering. He hasn't untied you; the ache of your bound wrists is comfortingly familiar as you allow yourself to be taken care of.
"Don't," Technoblade warns you firmly, looking up from where he's cleaning and dressing the wounds. Even so, he seems calmer and steadier than he's been in a long while, as if granted a brief moment of mental peace after what had just occurred.
"You keep offering something very dangerous, but maybe your naivete is part of why I find you so precious," he pauses for a long moment before leaning in to press a kiss to the edge of the bloody pattern he was responsible for. A thin line of your blood shines by the corner of his mouth as he pulls back and smirks up at you. You're desperate to kiss him, but you knew it would interrupt his care, and you'd probably remain restrained past the point of it being enjoyable.
"Did it help?"
He is quiet for a long moment after your question. Finally, he spoke.
"How much did it hurt?"
"What?"
"Tell me how much it hurt," there was an unexpected dark edge to his voice now, something pleased and almost smug. He's holding bandages but his hands have stilled, "when you begged me to carve into you like that," it's that hunger again, the same you'd seen the moment you'd winced and gasped and squirmed once he'd finally put the blade down in favour of admiring his work, now free hand between your thighs.
Now he's just... admiring you, bound, marked, still comfortable at his mercy. Looking at the angry red lines in your skin, he can see the blood slowly seeping from them, his personal form of art. Carefully, you wet your lips, shifting the barest amount against the still bloodstained linens.
"It was awful," you murmur honestly, "it still is kind of unbearable, more than I expected." He blinks slowly, hands still hovering inches away from your torso. He hears it, you know he hears it, the way you speak so carefully about the pain without a hint of negativity. He's a sudden rush of movement, kissing you with newfound intensity, one hand coming to cup your face while the other he presses flat against the still fresh wound.
"I could kill you, you silly, porcelain thing," he groans, as if turned on by the very idea he's warning you about.
"Could you?" A breathless, wanton gasp escapes you, and it turns to a pained whimper as he presses against the wounds more insistently, which he echoes with a pleased noise of his own, "please, I need you to -"
For the first time in a long time the voices seem sated. They've had their fill of violence, of blood, of you, they're practically sick with how they've gorged themselves on all you've offered for them. But Techno himself? He loves to know just how much it hurts, and loves to make you beg for it nonetheless. He loves knowing how far you'll let him go, how much you'll endure and still ask for more. He loves the proof of your devotion. He will never get enough.
And you?
You want to wear the scars like the proof of your love for him, with pride. You now understand and appreciate the pain he's inflicted on others in your honour. You relish in knowing you can satisfy all he craves in a way that no-one else ever would.
But mostly, you crave those moments, the bloody handprints he leaves on your thighs, the gentle way he caresses the ice cold blade against your skin, and the look in his eyes as you whimper, like you're the only thing in the world that has ever mattered.
