#ass percussion
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mackachu1212 · 1 year ago
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I HATE BAND CAMP
I HATE BAND CAMP I DONT WANT TO GO BACK
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saspitite · 20 days ago
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im gonna get myself a practice snare drum pad :D
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tgtncomic · 9 months ago
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The fuck Tumblr?!
Oh you’ll have ADs on your page to cater our interest of promoting Jesus so no one will come out queer/trans.
Then instead of being kind to each other, feed the poor, tend to the sick, and love thy neighbour. You know, stuff Jesus actually did.
But apparently doing that makes you a communist.
We always think the LGBTQA+ are after kids, which is damning why all religions focus on indoctrination them. Though no one bats an eye when religion pulls this BS.
And if you are a church that receives revenue from placing ads on Tumblrs that are atheist/LGBT/queer friendly just to “protect the kids”…
Do FUCK OFF. You’re damning your kids to not understand that there are a lot more people out there that don’t fall under White Supremacy.
I’m hella pissed.
-V
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jkpng · 4 months ago
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who rock remix………….jimin i forgive u for teasing me with those guitar concept pics
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marlenacantswim · 2 years ago
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spoiler alert for my junior recital, but here's a practice recording i made of myself playing Blues for Gilbert
my recital is the 29th, so here's hoping i make fewer mistakes then
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exsqueezememacaroni · 8 months ago
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justanotherfanartist · 9 months ago
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idr who it was but somebody I reblogged a post on a while back in which I dumped a bunch of random personal stuff in the tags if you see this this is for you 🙏🙏 also I’m lying I’m just a yapper
#I love turning tumblr into my personal diary knowing this will probably just get buried in the annels of my blog#I’m sure that’s not how you spell that but wtv#anyways grrrr I love men I love figuring out my type#I’ve dated three guys who all coincidentally happen to be relatively tall skinny athletic types#not an intended pattern btw it just happened like that#but now I am experiencing the true joy of variety#gahhhh I love body fat I love guys with body fat I am sick in the head for men who are squishy and have tummies and ass#it’s not my fault that kinda guy just happens to be the center snare in drumline it’s the curse of band kid I guess#holy shit I need to stop dating people in my band actually Jesus Christ it’s two already. see but like or I could collect the set#and go for all different instruments or categories#I’ve got brass (trombone) and woodwind (tenor sax) down#so like percussion?? mayhaps#our drumline is exclusively made up of three types of people for some reason#a) every girl is legit cool a bit masc and definitely gay (I know two personally and a third that fits the bill) and very skilled#b) very much oddball types who nobody in the band gets along with because they actively make people uncomfortable (hard to describe)#c) most grey-sweatpants straight guy you’ve ever seen who just happens to be reserved n semiattractive. looking at two of them in particula#(section leader and center snare specifically) third category hits hard#not my fault the center snare is stupid pretty and reserved and kinda squishy <- on the floor drooling#and like. a good snare#idk what happened to me but as soon as I became a musician people being able to play well became VERY attractive to me#curse of band kid once again#I’m genetically predisposed to it it’s fine <- raised by two divorced music majors#in particular an alto sax and the center snare are two guys that stick as me having a moment of like oh wow they’re *good*. haha that’s hot#alto sax is a killer jazz player and I’m psyched I get to trio with him and one of the drumline girls (my favorite tgirl fr)#although they’re both way better than I am so I’m really the weak link here#which is a hard asf sell given that they want me on bass <- I am a decent-to-mid rhythm guitarist at best#but wtv. everything I do I do for jazz#the most personal information I will likely ever admit to (I am lying I will vaguely yap about myself all day long)
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mcd-brainrot-hours · 2 years ago
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alright i have a couple things from my mcd-ified mystreet rewrite (title tbd)
warning: there’s some negative character talk in here
katelyn, nana, and aphmau don’t live together anymore
no more aarmau instead the lesbians win and i it’s zoeymau <3
aphmau was half werewolf in mystreet, right?(please correct me if im wrong) anyway if she is, she’s not anymore
ein and aphmau are no longer related to eachother because… ew
unless i find a reason to like kim, she will not be present in this rewrite (it’s not that i don’t like her, it’s just her character is sort of useless)
ghost/emmalyn will no longer be obsessed with zane and stuff
tempted to make vylad the host for ghost/emmalyn
also garroth isn’t a himbo anymore and will not become a werewolf
i don’t remember anything about the ultima stuff so i think i might scratch that completely and instead do something with shad in its place
also every single character is going be more like their mcd counterparts with maybe a little bit of their mystreet personalities
that’s all i have in changes for now! i don’t remember a lot about mysteet in the first place so this is mostly just parts that i could remember.
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nibwhipdragon · 2 months ago
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Regarding my last reblog I think the majority of the hoyo games' music sucks
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mcrbiggestfanreal · 10 months ago
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Every time I hear a song I play in pep band in the wild I get that feeling you get when you're at concessions and hear the band start playing
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the-kneesbees · 1 year ago
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the freshman wind players are so silly
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emphistic · 8 days ago
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Some couples meet on dating apps, mutual friends, other forms of social media, and so on and so fourth. You and Drummer!Sukuna, however, meet during band and music class.
Your instrument's designated section was, coincidentally, next to the percussion section, and you wanna know who stood right behind you? Sukuna, with his big ass bass drum.
Sometimes he played other instruments like the snare drum, but that's besides the point; whatever drum or percussion instrument he played—big or small—he always played it as loud as humanly possible because he knew it gave you the worst headaches known to man, and he liked seeing you yell at him in front of the rest of the band, if he had to be honest.
He liked when your attention was on him, but, today was . . . different.
He hit the bass drum with more force than usual, played the snare like a professional, and even did a little something something with the xylophone. But you never looked back at him once!
Didn't groan out of frustration, didn't snap your head back to give him a nasty glare, didn't even threaten to throw your music stand at him.
Unbelievable, he thought.
But then, an idea popped into Sukuna's mind, a wonderful idea.
Sukuna had made up a totally lame excuse, told the conductor he needed to speak to you urgently (emphasis on "urgently"), and he was able to drag you out of that stuffy classroom in no time, cornering you till you had absolutely no choice but to answer him. (and the asshole of the century award goes too . . .)
"Are you mad?" Sukuna started, to which he realized was a horrible execution plan once he noticed you wouldn't even look at him in the eyes.
"I'm fine."
"You're frowning."
"So what?" you snapped, finally turning to face him.
Sukuna laughed. "You're starting to kinda look like me."
"That's the worst thing anyone's ever told me."
"Nah, it's kinda becoming on you, actually. You look cute all frustrated like this."
"Frustrated? Frustrated? I am beyond frustrated! You know what you're doing, and yet you still have the nerve to ask me if I'm mad—!"
Sukuna slapped a hand over your mouth, muffling any words and curses you let out.
"I change my mind. You're not cute; you're kinda hot when you yell at me like this. Hah! maybe I should rile you up more often."
You finally managed to rip Sukuna's hand off of your mouth, before you began to walk away and back to class, saying, "Unless you want a trumpet shoved down your throat, I don't think so."
"Kinky. I like it."
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acidhydra101 · 2 months ago
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Reminded of the time a torrential downpour started during a walk I was taking once around my local park and I wound up going more than 10 more laps than I usually would (like 4) due to it, despite not having any waterproof apparel and also having my phone and my earbuds on me (for a total of like 14 laps, aka ~7.28km)
The other day I was reminded that there are different levels to getting soaked in the rain:
Your jacket is wet, maybe pants too, annoying but manageable, the clothes might dry out in the time you run around a store etc.
All your clothes are starting to be wet and heavier, socks and underwear included. This fucking sucks, gotta change all clothes when possible.
The moisture has soaked deep in your being. Your soul is soaked. Your mind is saturated. Nature laughs at your waterproof clothing. Being dry seems like dream. Rain is all you know, and will ever know. You start to dissassociate due to being so wet.
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wandaslullaby · 3 months ago
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Hooked, Line and Sinker || Wanda Maximoff
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summary: wanda shows you what it's like to disobey and a certain faculty member makes an appearance.
18+ DNI!
WARNINGS: fingering, eating out, manipulation kink
part 3 of the bunny and wanda series
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With eyes at rest with the sudden shock of humanity, you hear the quenching rain. The percussion of the water varies according to the downpour that Wanda warned you about. It’s been three whole days since Wanda’s sinful confession but you couldn’t stay mad at her. She gave you a roof over your head, three meals a day and a nice cosy bed to lay. 
Resting on your thighs, you tilted your head and traced a droplet of rain down the window giggling as more rain droplets came to play. A slight hum echoed in the background, light taps began to grow louder which meant Wanda was near. 
“Bunny? Are you here?” Wanda yelled from what you think was the kitchen. 
“On the window sill.” You answered, still fixated on the rain. 
Wanda’s eyes grew with such love as she watched you innocently play with the water. She also noticed how short the skirt she dressed you just covered your bare ass. 
“You look so gorgeous, bunny.” Wanda cooed as she walked up to you. You hummed and slightly smiled when Wanda’s reflection appeared in the window. 
As much as you knew all this was wrong, the stickiness between your legs thought otherwise. Wanda hasn’t touched you since that incident in Mr Rogers Office and you were desperate to have Wanda’s fingers or her strap on inside you. 
“What are you thinking bout? Sad that you can’t play outside?” Wanda said, pinching your bare bum earning a little stare from you. 
“Feel sticky. Not sure why but it hurts.” 
Wanda’s eyes pierced down to your thighs, “Oh bunny. Why didn’t you tell me? You should always tell Mommy when you had an accident.”
“Was embarrassed, not usually like this.” You whispered, feeling slightly ashamed that you couldn’t control when you came. 
“That’s what Mommy is here for. She is going to look after you as you can’t do it yourself.” Wanda laughed. “What to show Mommy where the stickiness is with her fingers?”
You nodded, and wrapped your hand around Wanda’s finger and directed her up to your leaking cunt. Wanda gasped as she felt how wet you were, she wasn’t expecting you to be this coated. 
“Oh my sweet dumb baby.” Wanda cooed as she slowly rubbed your clit earning soft whimpers from your lips. “You are soaking.”
“Can you fix it?” You moaned out, gripping the side of the window sill as Wanda began to pick up the pace. 
“As long as you try to sleep on your own tonight? As much as I love having you in my bed, you need to learn to sleep on your own.” 
That’s another thing you couldn’t figure out. You were so used to sleeping alone but somehow something inside you made you want to sleep with Wanda. It was such a weird feeling but you felt empty without Wanda nearby. 
“I can try…” You whimpered as Wanda slipped a finger inside your cunt, pumping slowly as she stroked your cheek. 
The motion of Wanda finger inside you alarmed your brain, the euphoria you felt as Wanda explored the walls inside you hinting another finger as she dipped in and out caused a slight high pitch moan from your mouth. 
“Beautiful sounds, bunny. Can you use your words?” Wanda chuckled as she planted a kiss on your nose. “What do you need?”
“Your fingers.” You choked out. “I need your fingers.”
Wanda watched as your face burned with heat as she entered a second finger inside you. Wanda was impressed in how well you would take her without prep. She saw the shyness on your face as you looked away which only meant you wanted it a little fast.
“Do you want me to go faster?” Wanda asked, using her free hand to make you face her. “You have to look at Mommy when she is taking care of you, you don’t want Mommy to be sad, do you?”
A sudden twist of panic erupted into you as Wanda pulled her fingers out of you. She watched as you tried to pull her fingers closer but she slapped your cunt instead. The stinging pain of her slap caused a tear to form in your eyes as she denied you, but Wanda only smiled wider as she watched you try again but Wanda this time, shoved her fingers in your mouth. 
Pumping her fingers in her mouth, you knew that this was a form of punishment something Wanda mentioned but you didn’t think she would actually use them. She watched as you latched onto her fingers, sucking away your sweet cum eagerly as Wanda stroked your nose.
“You hungry little thing. Look at you, sucking on Mommy’s fingers.” Wanda laughed as she shoved them further down your throat indicating to her that you did have a gag reflex. “Make sure they are all sloppy for me so I give your cunt something to feast on.”
Wanda noticed the slight slowness in your movement and decided that it was time to take care of your throbbing cunt. She could smell the desperation and as much as Wanda loved watching you choke on your fingers she removed them from your mouth and went straight into your cunt, thrusting harder than before aimlessly reaching your spot. It didn’t take Wanda long at all to get your pussy clenching on her fingers. She knew exactly where you would become undone but the thought of you cumming on her fingers didn’t sit right with her, she wanted to taste you. 
“Bunny. As much as I want you to drown my fingers with your cum, how about I taste it instead?” 
You didn’t even formulate a word, you just screamed with desperation as Wanda was so close to having you released that you just blabbered. 
“Too dumb to say anything? You really are a stupid girl.” Wanda cooed as she kept pumping inside you and lowered you down so you were ready for her. 
Before her fingers were free from your clenching pussy, Wanda ripped your skirt apart and grinned at how glazed you were. She noticed that her phone was nearby and quickly took a picture. “Beautiful. This is going to go to all the colleagues at work to show them how lucky I am.”
You were not quite sure what Wanda was saying as you were too high on pleasure to notice that Wanda had taken a picture of you. As much as you were trying to be good, the kick of your legs caught Wanda’s attention. 
“Don’t you fucking kick your legs at me.” Wanda snapped. “Are you that desperate for my tongue, bunny?” 
You whimpered out, not even apologising. 
“Never.” Smack. “Ever”. Smack. “Kick your legs at me.” Wanda growled and pulled her fingers out of you watching as her fingers glazed with your cum. She heard a cry escape your lips as Wanda left you open, you were so desperate for anything that you were again denied from cumming. 
“You want to cum, bunny? Then I’ll fucking show you.” Wanda hissed as she bit down on your sensitive cunt, and gripped your thighs as she sucked on your clit. 
The reactor from Wanda tongue embedded inside you caused you to wrap your legs around her neck. Wanda wasn’t given up quite yet, she sucked harder on each fold and invaded her tongue inside you reaching the spot in less than two seconds. As Wanda nipped at your folds, you started to clench and as Wanda fiddled with your spot, you became undone. You felt days of denied cum flow down giving Wanda such a meal to eat as she still ate your out, savouring each drop. 
You were starting to feel another set of cum released as Wanda used her hands to rub your clit, muffling words as she sucked harder letting another load pour down on her. The high you felt started to feel less painful as your eyes began to flutter. You weren’t used to cumming this much and the sudden numbness of your legs fell down indicating to Wanda that you were out down. 
Wanda wasn’t done yet. As she began to clean you with her mouth and tongue, she gave your sensitive pussy a bite causing you to scream loud in pain. Wanda finally released herself from you, grinning at the sigh of the harsh redness on your clit, grinning a little at the sight of blood where she bit you.  
“Don’t you cry, you stupid whore. I just let you cum and this is how you say thank you? Crying because you couldn’t handle a little pain?” Wanda laughed, as she admired the hot tears form on your cheeks. 
“H-hurts.” You whimper, trying to see the after match of Wanda’s punishment. Wanda only chuckled as your arms extended out, she knew that denying you for three days would only make you crave her more. 
“You need a hug, bunny?” She cooed, changing her tune as she noticed you were slowly slipping. She watched you nod eagerly before she picked you up and straddled you in her arms. “Look at those puffy eyes, you were such a good bunny taking Mommy’s punishment.”
“I’m sorry…” You whispered, hiding your face in her chest. 
“I know you are. Mommy forgives you.” 
“You do?” You muffled her chest. 
“Of course. You are going to be such a good bunny for me.” Wanda hums as she watches you slip into a trance. Wanda watched as your eyes closed and planted a small kiss to your forehead before groaning at the vibration from her back pocket.
As Wanda retrieved the phone, she noticed several messages from her colleagues liking the image of your glazed cunt. 
Steve: That was quick. I didn’t get Bucky to obey for a month.
Wanda grinned at the message.
Wanda: What can I say? She’s a desperate one. 
Steve: I still want her grades to go up, Wads. 
Wanda: They will. We will be there bright and early on Tuesday. 
Before Wanda turned her phone off, she wanted to take a good look at her bunny all warm and comfy before the real torture started. 
“Oh bunny. You shouldn’t have made that comment about my tits.” Wanda whispered. “The fun has only begun.”
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thatfreshi · 1 year ago
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Hi! Can I request a story about Tav having trouble fighting cause Astarion just fed on her and so he gets worried and protective ofc. Maybe they were ambushed at camp or something? Thank you so much for your work! I really like how you write Astarion
Tw - animal attack, lots of gore, themes of death
Recommended Song: Seek and Destroy - SZA
Against better judgment, you let Astarion feed on you almost every night. It's just one of those things, a sacrifice you make, an act of love. After decades of disrespect, scavenging for next to nothing, you thought it'd be nice for him to have something better than animals. While he always insists it isn't necessary, he never passes you up on the offer. A ritual before bed every night, like a lover's embrace, you've come to adore the feeling of his teeth.
This evening in particular, he took quite a bit. You don't mind, considering you go to bed almost right after. Light-headed, woozy, you're wrapped up in his arms.
"Thank you darling."
His embrace almost feels warm when you're this drained. You almost drift off, but he keeps you awake.
"Tav, you need to eat something first."
You groan, absolutely exhausted, trying to keep him in the bedroll.
"Nooo, I'll just do it tomorrow."
He smiles, moving your hair out of your eyes.
"That's not how it works my sweet. Now, let me get up so I can-"
Goblin war drums. The sound of the percussive rhythms bouncing off all the trees, they're not far off, and Astarion knows they're on the way. Karlach starts making her way to every tent, telling your companions to get their asses in gear.
"Tav, Astarion, let's go!"
"Shit."
Astarion whispers to himself. You're still not fully there, in and out of sleep.
"What's going on?"
Double vision, you see two of your vampire lover get up and start rummaging around for his daggers.
"Just- just stay here Tav. It's alright."
You try to rub at your eyes, desperately wanting to figure out what's going on. Before you can ask again, he's gone, and you hear more war drums outside. You quickly realize it's goblins. They must've found where you've been hiding, but your head is still spinning. Trying to get up and grab your blade, you almost fall back to the ground. Steadying yourself for a moment, you try your best to listen to what's going on outside. It sounds deadly, metal, screams. You hear Shadowheart casting left and right.
When you manage to stumble out of the tent, you're tackled by one of their dogs, or whatever wretched things they are. A scream rips out of your throat, trying to hold the thing off. It bites rabidly at your arm, leaving numerous gashes, until it's thrown off of you and stabbed to death, relentlessly.
"Gods damnit, I told you to stay in the tent Tav!"
You're too worried about your arm throbbing in pain to care about the validity of his argument. He's angry, and perhaps both of you aren't entirely certain why. It's your dominant arm, you can barely move it. Astarion goes to wrap your arm, but is quickly overpowered by the numbers again. They must've sent a large party after the lot of you. Halsin and Shadowheart are running out of magic, already drained. It's bad, but it'll end soon. With a couple more fights and a thunderwave from Gale, the rest of the goblins scurry off, knowing they're fighting a losing battle. Astarion doesn't even stop to loot their corpses, running to your side.
"You're a fucking idiot Tav, you know that?"
Gods, he could sound so mean when he wanted to. You know he says those things out of fear, but they still hurt. Despite how angry he is, he starts ripping pieces of cloth from his shirt, wrapping your arm, which is bleeding far too fast. Shadowheart and Halsin come over to supervise, both out of arcana until they get some rest.
"Yes, the two of you standing over my shoulder is quite helpful. Might as well cheer me on while you're at it!"
His movements are ragged, furious, only making your arm hurt more than it does. He's lost though, somewhere in his head, unable to hear the cries of pain as he's wrapping your arm. You're even more lost than before, your blood leaving rapidly.
"Aster, I-"
"Hush."
He then realizes you were going to tell him you were about to pass out, because you almost immediately fall over.
"Damnit!"
He holds you in his arms, your limb still not fully wrapped.
"If the two of you want to be helpful, get me some actual bandages instead of gawking at me!"
Sure, Astarion hates doing things that require hard work, but he knows how. How many times did he have to do something like this to himself, when no one was there to help wrap his wounds? Shadowheart quickly returns with all of the bandage wraps she has.
"We have to clean it or it'll get infected."
"Well, Shadowheart, I don't know how you think you're going to clean it if Tav bleeds to death."
The two healers decide it's best if he handles this himself. While he obsessively wraps your arm, the rest of the camp watches on, knowing he's too possessive to let them help. He doesn't trust them like he trusts you.
And I trusted you to stay put.
There's no way to give you more blood, not in a way that would work for you. For a moment, he simply thinks that he'll feed you some of his blood, and then he remembers. All he can do is hope you retained enough, that he didn't preemptively kill you by feeding on you tonight. Your pulse is still going, but it's slow, and you're paler than usual.
Astarion begins to think to himself, asking why he ever fell in love, why he ever let himself think twice about you. It's easy to play the game when you have nothing to lose. Second thoughts, always, he's always thinking for two people now. It's been his survival, for as long as he can remember, and now you're lodged in his brain.
"Damn you Tav, I can't do this. I can't lose you like this."
He begins to sob as he holds you, still unconscious. This beckons Gale to come over, often a voice of reason for the vampire.
"You've done all you can. Perhaps we should get Tav back inside? Away from the elements?"
Astarion is too distraught to argue, helping Gale carry you back into the tent.
"The second Shadowheart is awake, she'll be back to check on Tav."
"Yeah, if they don't die from blood loss in the middle of the night."
Gale simply sighs, knowing there's no point in fighting with him. He leaves your pale lover to wallow in his misery. Hours pass, you're still clinging on, and Astarion watches over you, panicking every time he can't see your chest rise and fall, constantly checking your pulse. You're cold, your heartbeat dangerously slow, and he keeps wracking his brain about what else he could possibly do. But there's nothing, only fate, only the gods. He sadly chuckles to himself at the thought of even trying to pray, knowing there's no higher power out there, at least one that cares about him.
"W... what are you... laughing at?"
You ask weakly, oblivious to the horrific stress he's been through. Astarion whips around quickly, wondering if perhaps he's imagining your voice. When he sees your eyes fluttering, lost somewhere between dreams and reality, he rushes to your side.
"Oh gods Tav... you- you really scared me there."
He tries to hold back tears, failing miserably. You try to speak again, but groan in pain as the feeling in your arm starts to come back.
"I know, I know it hurts. It's okay my darling, you'll be alright."
He begins fully sobbing, and you have no idea why, without being awake enough to comprehend the situation. Astarion always tries to be strong when you're weak, but watching you teeter on the line between life and death, it was simply too much to bear.
"You can't pull that shit, ever again my love, I'm so serious. I know I'm normally quite serious, but ever more so right now."
Then, a joyful, tiny laugh. Happiness. Happy that you're alive. The memories of the fight slowly start coming back, the beast that ripped up your arm, Astarion yelling.
"Aster...?"
"Yes my dear?"
You start to tear up a little, still a tad delirious.
"I'm sorry."
And then remembers as well, the things he said, the tone he spoke to you in.
"No, no my love I'm sorry. You weren't yourself, I was being entirely unreasonable. I just..."
He almost can't finish his sentence.
"I'm just happy you're okay. That's enough for me."
Your lover slowly and carefully lays down beside you, pulling you into him, being sure not to let your wounded arm drag on the ground. He holds you for a long time, until Shadowheart wakes at dawn, fully rested and ready to fix your wounds. Astarion vows silently that he'll never let it come that close, ever again.
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s3thwrit3sstuff · 8 months ago
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❝ You better lock your door and look at me a little more (we both know I'm worth waitin' for) ❞
Vander x ftm!reader | fluffy, NSFW, slight angst | there's some plot at the end | reader has had top-surgery & bottom growth | versatile. bottom. reader | NOT PROOFREAD | wc: 5k
warnings: r! is a prostitute, brothel mentioned, mentions of addiction, spanking, fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as dick/cock, terms like boypussy, pussy, boycunt, cunt are used)
masterlist;
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authors note: you guys have @strayjester to thank for this because of the thirst we had for this fine-ass single dad...
*song on repeat: Billie Boss Nova by Billie Eilish *YN is described as being shorter than Vander in this fic.
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He’s getting that itch under his skin again. Muscles aching and throat begging for the soothing burn of addictive smoke. Vander tosses a rag on his shoulder, scratching at his beard as he fixes his posture. His skin feels stretched thin, aching for a salve to fill the crevices and drought; his ears muffle the bar, and the song playing floats into his ears.
The playful percussions, the whispering tone of the singer, and the sighs of the adlibs remind him of the fairytales of fairies, sirens, and boys in masks in nothing but a see-through robe.
Vander straightens up, briefly glancing over at the doors of the bar. The underground doesn’t get sunlight, but like a dog, he knows when people are starting to head back home. The crowd in here was mostly gone, some were passed out in the booths and some intently eating sunflower seeds in their corner. He’d have to clean it up and make sure the tables weren’t sticky, and the floor needed a good sweep too.
Impatientness grows in him. Vander sighs, pouring himself a shot of something to reinvigorate him, and slams the glass down. It startles the man at the bar enough to have him reach for his coins, the rest get the same hint.
“You look like you need a nightcap," Spider mutters. Vander thinks it’s ridiculous for people to call the seamstress such an intimidating name when she vehemently despises the arachnids, but it stuck and she has no choice but to embrace it. She has the courtesy of bringing her bowl of opened sunflower seeds and an empty glass to him instead of just stumbling off.
But Vander knows it isn’t exactly out of the kindness of her heart.
It flatters him that she finds him attractive. Really, it does. She was a beautiful woman and a capable one too. But Vander is tired and truly, he doesn’t want his rendezvous to be chattered on about everywhere. His kids didn’t need to hear about any of it.
“Aye’, that I do. Thankfully, I own a bar,” she chuckles and reaches forward to swat at his shoulder. Vander just smiles, taking her dishes and placing them elsewhere so his back is turned to her. “It’s not good practice to drink your own stock,” Spider places her elbows on the table and Vander doesn’t need to spare a glance to know her breasts are on display too. This isn’t the first time she’s done this, and most likely won’t be the last.
The song ends with a soothing croon from the singer and Vander’s cock twitches in his pants as he spots the business card stuck between the frame of the mirror.
“Ya’ sober enough to make your way back safe?” Spider’s brows pinch and she mutters, gluing her gaze on Vander’s face as he pulls the rag down to wipe the table. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
Vander nodded, bidding her a good night she simply replied with a wave. She was the last to leave through the front door and Vander manages to not groan in relief at the click he hears.
‘ Hurry! ‘ A voice tells him. It’s early in the morning now, the window is closing but he can’t possibly leave the bar in this state. He’ll be the one regretting it when he opens tonight. Vander imagines he must’ve looked a bit dumb as he stares at the state of the bar when Vi appears at the top of the stairs.
“What?” Vi tilts her head at him but gestures loosely to the tables and chairs. “I said I can clean it, you look...tired.”
He sighs, squeezing the back of his neck. “What’re you doing up so early, Vi?” she shrugs which is a non-answer but pushes through the doorway and meanders behind the bar. Her head pops out and she places the iron bucket of cleaning supplies. Vander walks to her, handing her the rag as he reaches for a broom.
“Vander, I can clean the place just fine,” she huffs. “All by yer’self? S’gonna take ya’ forever,” he’s jesting but she finds no humor in it. The girl crosses her arms as she glares up at him. A part of him wants nothing more than to dash out of here, to find that salve he desperately is aching for, but there was no way he could leave his daughter to clean up by herself just because he wanted to get his dick wet.
“Dude, just go,” Vi grabs the bucket and rag and marches to the tables. He frowns a bit, crossing his arms as he contemplates it.
“Ya’ couldn’t sleep?” Vi shakes her head. “Nope! Milo was snoring and Claggor kept moving in his sleep. Powder must be tired because she’s sleeping through it with no problem.” Vi’s always been a light sleeper. Most of the people in the underground were. But Vander just needs to ask; “Ya’ sure it wasn’t the nightmares?” Vi pauses in her wiping and Vander watches her face as she sends him a pouty expression.
“Yes, I’m sure. I haven’t had one of those in forever anyway — just go rest, old man. I can wipe down tables and sweep floors by myself.”
“Are you sure — “
“Dude!”
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The path he takes is always quiet. Hidden between tight alleyways and old wires hung too low — he rarely saw characters here other than the occasional cat or shady hooded figure but that was a normal sight anywhere.
The back of the building is less glamorous than the front but not out of neglect. It was purposefully made that way — fewer lights, fewer signs, and fewer girls spilling from the door. But he peeks up from the hood of his jacket and he sees the voyeuristicly lit windows. The shadows of bodies behind the thin curtains, the seductive glow and thrum of the others. The back door is not locked, it's just made to look that way so people feel dirtier pushing the heavy door open.
He hears a whistle and his cock honestly to god jumps at the sight of your naked shoulders. Your mask was askew, your hair messed up, and smears of lipstick on your lips, and your skin; Vander is envious of the cigarette holder you have in your grip.
When your lips wrap around it he feels the exhaustion melt away. Plumes of purple smoke pour out from your mouth; “Had a feeling you’d be comin’ over."
Vander laughs, moving to the door with his eyes still on you. “Yeah? Just knew, did ya’?”
You nod, placing your chin in your palm as he opens the door.
“Yeah. My ass has been wanting a good stretch the whole day, only gets that way when you’re comin’ over.”
' Coming over ', you make it sound like he’s a teenage boy sneaking through your window. Vander says nothing as he walks in and you grin at it. His silence was good — it meant he was going to give it to you just how you wanted. You finish the cigarette and slip the curtains close.
Vander liked his privacy after all.
The hallways are familiar, but he still thinks the wallpaper is a bit too busy and the creak in the floorboards should have been fixed. Saying it out loud feels a bit shameful. After all, how often would he have to come over to recognize these things?
He passes by a doorway guarded with beaded curtains and he ignores the moans of the woman who is being devoured by another. The doorway next to it has the sounds of leather rubbing against leather so he peeks as he passes by to see it shines under the low lights.
Reaching the stairs, Vander is greeted by Sevika lip-locked with another woman. He lowered his head, hoping she was too busy fingering her to notice. At the landing, there’s a wall of hooks, and on each of them held a mask of an animal. They differed in all sorts of sizes, and materials, each handcrafted by different artists. Customers wear them if they’d like but it was a must for employees.
The allure, the secrecy, the seductive notion of masked strangers sucking your cock, blah blah blah.
He grabs the wolf mask, slipping it on with ease, as he climbs the rest of the stairs. He misses Sevika staring at his back with squinted eyes.
“D’you know him?” she asks. The girl in the doe mask pants but eyes Vander’s frame through the wooden bars of the stairs. “Him? Oh, he’s a regular. Secretive, and never lets anyone else see his face other than the Fantastic Mr. Fox.”
That makes Sevika snort. “(Y/N)? He only comes here for him?” She can’t exactly blame the man. You were a talented little beast. Hands, mouth, feet, cunt, ass — every part of you was made with pleasure in mind. She enjoys having you in a headlock as she pounds into your asshole, enjoys your tongue inside of her and your filthy little words.
But just for you? This pleasure house had a gaggle of beasts for him to lay with. Hairy beasts with cocks just as big as their arms who enjoy plowing and being plowed. Demure little nymphs with a talent to make people beg for their cocks to be stepped on or to cry in pleasure. Tall beasts, short beasts, catering to every need and fetish a man could have.
“There’s a betting pool,” the Doe says. Sevika turns to face her as the masked man enters the hallway leading to your room. “About?” Sevika pulls her fingers out to pull away the negligee and kneads at her small breast. She shudders, arching her back into her but continues; “The Wolf and The Fox. That he’s smitten, maybe even a bit obsessed.” Sevika scoffs, rolling her eyes as she pinches Doe's perk nipple between her fingers,
"Poor bastard."
"I think it's — ah — cute," Doe retorts as she squeezes Sevika's biceps. "To you maybe, a smitten customer gets you more coin," Sevika grunts out, her tone light despite it.
"Falling in love with a whore is just stupid."
"You saying you don't love me, Daddy?" Doe pouts her lips. Sevika chuckles as she lowers her head to nibble on it. "I'll love you tonight, baby. Think that'll be enough?"
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The door has the symbol of your mask, painted in gold. It's ajar, a sliver of light lighting the carpeted floors and Vander rolls his shoulders as he pushes the door open.
Your room is heavy with the smell of incense. There's thudding against the walls, moans of pleasure echoing despite it being muffled. Vander's shoes make no noise. The carpets on the floor provide more than just comfort. Discretion. This room and the others on this floor are all for high-paying customers.
He closes and locks the door behind him. He reaches for his mask but your voice stops him.
"Keep it on," you push yourself off the door frame, the beads clattering softly, and Vander tits his head at your sashay. Your mask was left on the bed, leaving your face bare, and Vander cocks a brow as he looks down at you.
"One of those nights?" His hands settle on your waist. The size of them, the roughness that's felt through the silk of your robe, it makes your grin stretch wider. "You got other ideas, Vander?" you muse. "Was hopin' to kiss ya'," he huffs.
The grip on your ass lurches you forward further into his broad chest. Vander's eyes are heavy, the shadows attempt to hide the desire but it's futile. He's kneading, hitching you up higher until you're barely on your toes.
Head tilting, he leans in. Your head floats away, hands still gripped onto his shirt as he chases and you don't give in.
"(Y/N)," his tone suggests a warning. But it's amusing. Here you are, in his arms. His strength keeps you in place and in the air; the mask is akin to a muzzle. Except he's fully capable of taking it off if he wishes.
The fact that you asked for him to keep it on is not lost to you. Your words alone held so much power over him. You place his neck between the gap of your thumb and pointer finger, barely there pressure keeping him still despite the yearning in his eyes.
"You're exhausted, big guy. Long day, yeah?" Vander nods at your words.
"Lay down on the bed. I'll make you feel good."
He hesitates for a moment. But your feet find the floor again and he begrudgingly parts. When he walks past you, you follow behind him. He pauses when you reach for the front of his pants, looking at you from over his shoulder.
"Take off your clothes for me, baby."
Your bed is shaped in a semi-circle. The curtain around it was drawn all the way back. There's a mountain of pillows and bolsters that welcome Vander's naked frame as he settles on it.
The trail of his clothes on the floor has your silk robes accompanying you as you stand at the end of the bed.
Vander tilts his head, widening his legs and stroking his hairy thighs. Leading your eyes to the thick dick that's already at full mast.
"Damn," you whistle. The bed dipped under the weight of your knee. "I know I'm good looking but you can't be that hard from just 5 seconds of laying your eyes on me."
He can't tear his gaze from you. From the marks on your face to the state of your hair; the bare skin that he loves to bruise and mark up — despite being told by you it's not exactly encouraged — Vander is convinced you're not real sometimes.
The arcane has been long gone now. Yet, here you are. Living, breathing, proof that its remnants linger in pumping hearts and honey-sweet skin. With just your voice, you make his knees buckle and his cock strain through the material of his pants.
Just the whisper of your name has his entire day derailed as he thinks and thinks and thinks of you.
Oh, (Y/N).
You're his undoing.
Gooseflesh spread at your touch and Vander groans as you settle yourself between his legs. That haunting touch makes its way to his crotch, ghosting along his aching rod, up his soft stomach, and towards his chest. It rests there and his heart threatens to escape his ribcage. The heat from your cunt has him sighing and settling his hands on the arch of your back. It makes you chuckle.
"Please, darlin'," he begs, "I been needing you so badly. All day."
There's no way you can deny him. Not when your cock jumps at the airy tone he has, that gravelly husk that comes with it. It peeks up, just as hard as his. He can feel it drag along his own and he tightens his grip on you.
"Yeah?" You nose at his neck, trailing your painted lips down. The hairs on his chest tickle your cheek when you place your face there, breathing against his perk nipples.
"Shit, yeah. Can't you feel me?" He grows a bit bolder in his next move. Urging your hips forward so he can feel your wet folds, forcing your stiff cock to rub up. The motion makes your eyes flutter close, sighing against his pebbling nub.
"For such a big man, you're such a teddy bear," you lift your hips, lining his thick head with your needy cunt. He laughs, his masked face tilting downwards as his blue-grey eyes all but glow in excitement.
"I've been told I am a bear," his words end a moan when you slip him inside. The bowl of condoms littered just about everywhere outside this room wasn’t there for decoration. They were there for the John’s and Jane’s who needed them.
But you know Vander. You’ve been the only thing he’s been hitting and you make sure the rest of your clients are always wrapped up.
Everything about him is thick so it’s no surprise you feel the twinge of discomfort as you accommodate to his size. It lingers briefly but once the mushroom tip of his dick is inside pleasure runs up your spine.
“Oh fuck yes,” you wrap your arms around his neck and press your chest together. He instantly embraces you, adjusting his grip to your ass again so he can help you straddle his legs.
“Fuck, baby. Your dick is so big,” and for once you’re not lying about it.
Vander’s a big boy. His thick arms, square jaw, the delicious shape of his nose; his wide chest and sturdy shoulders, and his soft but firm stomach. Fuck, everything about Vander makes your head fill warm.
His dick twitches inside you as you slide down. The snout of the wooden mask bumps into your forehead and you laugh as he leans in.
“S’fuckin’ needy,” he has no protests. You reach for the bottom of the mask and push it up, blinding him but rewarding him with your lips. His beard is soft. As you feel through it, you cup his jaw and he groans into the kiss.
More of him inches inside of you and halfway down, you’re pulling away to breathe. His fingers are going to leave handprints with how roughly he holds you; flesh spilling from the gaps of his greedy digits.
“Fuck, (Y/N).”
“Yeah, say my name, baby.”
Vander grunts when you fix the mask into place. When you lean back, he takes in the sight of the bump on your stomach.
“Perv.” His dick twitches again. So you laugh.
“Absolutely rotten.”
Your eyes slip close as you let gravity take over. Fuck, the way your hips buck up and twitch as he fills you up has his toes curling. You’re dripping wet, the thick and clear liquid travelling down his balls.
“You’re so fuckin’ hard,” he thumbs at your cock. When he uses his knuckles to stroke it, his mouth goes dry at the way it twitches and righteously stands tall.
“All ‘cus of you,” you purr. Vander groans, now idly touching the bump of his dick and you sigh as he presses down on it.
“Ooooh fuck, Vander.”
He rolls your hips, moving to ground his heels into the bed but you beat him to it. Your hands brace his knees and you lift up and up and up — his tip bumping into yours in the brief time it’s out of you — then slipping him all the way inside again.
Vander curses, his accent thickening as you throw his head back.
You chew on your bottom lips, savouring the explosion of pleasure behind your eyelids. As you look at his heaving chest, you cannot stop the sharp grin that crawls onto your face.
Placing one hand on his shoulder, you put your thighs to work. Vander is at your mercy. Panting and moaning behind the mask as he watches your work on his cock. Riding him, grinding down on him, using his thick dick for your pleasure.
Your other hand leads his own to a surprise.
Between your ass that he adores so much, he bucks up when he feels the base of a plug inside of your ass.
“Oh, you liked that,” you moan. All high and airy as you slow down into grinding, thighs burning. Vander is tugging onto the plug and your rim stretches as he teases it in and out.
“You’re gonna kill me one day,” he growls out.
“You’ll die happy, don’t — mngh — duh-don’t...Shit, Vander. Baby. Oh fuuuck.”
The exhaustion of the day has seeped out from him it seems. He’s leaning forward, caging you between his raised knees and firm front.
In one smooth movement, your back bounces on the bed and he’s on top of you. The acoustic of the wooden mask makes him sound like an animal as he growls above you, he huffs and pants like a proper wolf.
You share a long look, even as he rocks in and out of you and you feel your heavy eyelids threaten to squeeze shut. He braces onto his elbows, his weight on you making you whine and keen.
He takes the reigns and smiles when you reach to take his mask off. It thuds onto the carpet, mere inches away from your own mask.
“Hey, handsome.” You stroke over his cheekbones, gasping into his mouth as he kisses you. A particularly deep thrust makes you arch off the bed and it distracts you from his deft hands pulling out your plug.
“Your cunts got me all nice and wet,” he growls into your ear. “Perfect for fucking your ass then,” you whisper back.
“You always know what to say, don’t you?” He slips out and you whimper at the loss. You’re not empty for long. He taps his tip onto your winking hole and you chew on the insides of your cheeks in anticipation.
“C’mon, baby. Fuck me.”
“Yes, sir,” he purrs with a devillishly handsome smile.
He rights his posture, holding your ankles in one grip and folding your legs so your knees are nearly at your chest.
The stretch makes you toss your head to the side, cunt gaping as he fixates on the sight of your greedy holes.
Vander spits onto your hole and pushes in deeper. It makes you sing like a proper whore. Clutching onto the sheets while your chest heaves.
God, when he takes over like this — it makes you fantasize about how good it’d feel to wake up in his bed for once — but fantasies like that are dangerous. Vander is smarter than that, he’d know better than to bring a whore back home. Especially a whore like you.
His heavy balls slap against your ass. It knocks the breath out of you. You cry out, tears pricking your eyes when he strokes your dick. Vander splits your thighs and he holds your face with so much care you feel your heart pound our of your chest.
“(Y/N),” when he moans your name you want nothing more than to keep him here with you forever.
When he fucks up into your ass, you inch forward with every strong thrust. So he holds you down, keeping you in place as he stretches out your ass. The friction on your dick makes you even wetter. But you still hiss in discomfort as your rim clenches around him. Vander pants above you, slowing to a stop.
“Lube, darlin’?”
You nod, gesturing to the nightstand. Vander kisses you, pulling out as he turns and grabs the strawberry-scented bottle. You lay out on the bed, breathing heavily as you recompose yourself.
Vander lubes his dick up, eyeing your cunt a little too hungrily for your liking. So you knock your knees together, staring at him pointedly when he blinks innocently at you. “No double dipping,” you warn. Vander scoffs, grinning loosely.
“I know that, boy.” “D’you?”
Your expression makes him snort. He parts your legs again, smearing some lube on your hole before he presses his heavy cock inside of you again.
“‘Course I do. Your cunt’s just so sexy, can’t help but stare.”
“Yeah? Should I call another client and make him fuck my pussy while you fuck my ass?” You’re goading him. He realizes that. But the flash of jealousy that comes across his face is not something he can control.
Vander doesn’t respond. Merely grunting as he fucks into you. You yelp at the strength he’s using, cursing as you’re dragged onto his dick. Helpless as he uses you.
“Yuh - You pissed?” he glares at you but shakes his head.
“No.”
“Yer' a shitty liar.” You moan out his name as he turns you over onto your stomach, barely having time to process his movements as he pulls you onto your knees. He’s bruising you with his grip and when he spanks your ass, you know it’ll be sore till the next day. Every spank makes you tighten up around him. He presses between your shoulder blades and you are keen as he reaches deeper than before.
“M’just joking, Vander,” you pant out. “It’s all yours, all of it — all of me.“
Vander vengeance is in his hips. An unrelenting force that turns your body into nothing but a conduit of pleasure. Your gummy walls are torn between pushing him out and keeping him in — it doesn't matter, in the end, the one with power over you was him. There's bliss in relinquishing control. It's a whisper of voices, serenading you to a high that even the strongest drugs could barely scratch.
Or maybe you were just an addict for sex — or just Vander.
No seasoned whore lets their guard down with a client. There's a degree of trust needed. It's surface level. The bond between you and Vander — there's something oddly binding about it. You've heard of the religions scattered around the world. Of monks who abstain from worldly pleasures, those who worship an entire militia of gods, and those who only believed in one Maker; they spoke with such certainty of their beliefs. The punishment and euphoria waiting for them at the end of the line.
Fucking Vander feels like religion. When he makes your body burn from the inside out with a lust only he can quench — you're doomed and there's no one to blame but yourself.
That's a lie, you bite down on the bedsheets as you feel his balls slap against your cunt and dick. There's someone to blame for putting Vander in your way, (Y/N).
"Shit, sweetheart. I'm close," Vander groans. You moan, forcing yourself to reach back so you can kiss him. Vander feels his heart hammering, reaching to pinch your cock between his fingers to distract himself from these bubbling emotions.
Loving you was a freedom he had long forgotten about. Hearing you moan out his name, digging your nails into his skin and kissing him so deeply. He aches for you — his veins burn when he even thinks he sees you in the crowd.
He loves you.
Vander murmurs something on your lips that you don't catch. But you're too far gone to acknowledge your senses. You're so close to unraveling. Teetering on that edge of bliss as Vander holds you like he wants your bodies to become moulded together like clay.
"Vander, Vander — "
He slips his fingers inside your cunt. You gasp, feeling yourself clench around him like a vice as you squirt onto his fingers and cum around his dick. Vander is close behind, growling out your name as he thrusts in balls deep and floods your ass with his thick ropes of cum.
The both of you ride off the orgasm. His hips still fucking in and out of you in shallow motions that have your breath hitching with every drag and poke. Vander slips his fingers out and brings it to your lips — you chuckle softly, letting them inside as you clean his talented digits.
"How much did you pay the madame?" You nuzzle into his neck, relying on him to hold you up. He kisses your shoulders, his beard tickling your skin as his hands roam your front.
"Long enough. You sick of me already, darling?"
Don't think that's possible, you thought with a loose grin. Vander groans into your mouth as you grab his chin and kiss him.
"Don't flatter yourself, baby."
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Vander looks younger when he rests. Not like a boy again, just younger. The lines on his face were less prominent and the softness of his body was more inviting. You're tracing mindless shapes into his chest, chastising the city of Zaun for beginning its morning cycle. The noises from beyond the window are beginning to shift from the noisy nightlife of hookers calling for Johns and booming music from clubs to the food stalls opening and wagons being pulled along the worn-down roads.
You can hear the thudding of Vander's heart under your ear. It squeezes your own so you lift your head and gaze down at him, just taking him in from a new angle. The door clicks and Vander's brows pinch but he does not stir. He trusts you enough to rest. For you to keep vigil over him.
"Did you enjoy yourself?" his voice drawls like a thick caramel. A seductive purr with a certain husk that tingles your senses. The tall, lanky, man enters the room and he is shameless as he takes the both of you in.
"He paid for the whole night, not the day." Silco comments. "He gets a pass on good behavior. What do you need?" Vander's hand is carefully guided to hold one of the pillows and you carefully move to stand.
Silco takes in the sight of you. Moving forward, he grasps your chin in his hand and tilts your head back; "He's always been such a possessive man."
"Yeah? He marked you up like this too?" He regards you with a tepid glance. "Sir," you add smoothly. Giving him a half-hearted grin.
It works. Silco's eyes soften, just slightly but it's a crutch you're leaning on. He likes you more than he'd like to admit and you're beginning to feel guilty for all these emotions brewing inside of you for these two brothers-in-arms.
"Did you learn anything from tonight, (Y/N)?" Silco looks past you to Vander. Turning his voice into a whispering tone that feels more romantic than he probably intended it to.
You contemplate telling him. Pursing your lips for a second before you lean in and embrace Silco, pressing your lips up his jaw and whispering in his ear.
"He's friends with the Sheriff. Grayson. But he worries." "About?" Silco's hands wrap around your waist, shadowing Vander's marks with his own. "He worries about the fresh meat she has on her team. Piltover's steady now but one incident and he doubts he'll be able to keep the peace, no matter how hard Grayson tries. The children," you pause and he turns his head to look at you. You gulp thickly, then continue: "The eldest daughter, Vi, she's getting restless. Dangle bait and she'll bite."
Silco stares for a moment. You take him in, unable to stop the grin that crawls on your face as he presses a long kiss to your lips.
"Well done, (Y/N)." His praise had once been something akin to a drug to you, a high you desperately needed to keep your doubts at bay. A soothing coolness that'll keep this rage inside of you to a lukewarm temperature; the promise that Piltover will soon fall to its knees to Zaun had been your motivation to live for years now.
Yet, your chest tightens and your stomach twists as his words wash over you.
"Of course, sir."
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