#light sensitivity and heighten senses

[rustyelias]

I think being a vampire would solve like twenty of my problems

[starry-bi-sky]

back on my bullshit

and by bullshit i mean "rewatch MCD for the millionth time in a row and resist the urge to make an MCD OC"

i have yet to succeed in my bullshit.

[charliemwrites]

Omegas are the best for the military. Everyone knows that, it’s just common sense.

Omegas are notoriously level-headed and calm, protective without the tendency towards aggression and territorial possessiveness that characterizes their Alpha counterparts. They’re cooperative and adaptable, with heightened senses that at one evolutionary time kept them safe from rabid Alphas.

Now, it’s best suited to sniffing out potential threats, communicating sub-vocally, and noticing the smallest changes in their environment. The military finds them much more economical for combat, special ops, and even espionage compared to Alphas, who are pheromone sensitive, hard-headed, and generally indelicate.

That said, they’re not without their uses. Alphas tend to be lean, fast, and vicious. That aggression makes them both sword and shield in a fight, filing their sense of pain and fatigue down to almost nothing until the threat is neutralized.

Still, having a full-time Alpha in a squad isn’t a necessity except in special circumstances.

Per usual, Task Force 141 is special circumstances.

Four specialist Omegas with a metric ton of trauma per team member has the unfortunate consequence of hormonal imbalance. One thing feeds into another, a heat is put on hold for a mission because they can’t spare the manpower - it stacks and stacks and stacks until sleep is scarce and their usually well-maintained instincts are bursting at the seams. Compound that with the near loss of one of their team members…

The new Alpha is already there when the team returns from their latest assignment.

Laswell is waiting on the tarmac and an operative in black gear is standing a polite distance (plus one step more) from her elbow. Well within peripheral, but deferent. Their hands are clasped behind their back, shoulders straight but loose.

As TF141 approaches, Price expects the Alpha pheromones to waft his way any moment. It’s normal, expected even. A new environment, meeting strange Omegas, Alphas usually burn through their neutralizers quickly. Perhaps a vestigial instinct to carve a space for themselves in the world. Not necessarily their fault, but it happens.

Price is surprised that he smells nothing from the Alpha at all. Just the scents of detergent and soap, clean and standard. A quick glance at Simon confirms their most-sensitive nose doesn’t detect anything either.

Laswell introduces them, an Alpha that she’s personally worked with before and can verify is solid both on and off the field.

The Alpha’s muzzle is heavy duty but long-wear design. Hard-case and rigid instead of the more popular soft and flexible ones. Cushioned but firm at the bridge of the nose, chin, and corners of the jaw. Buckled tight at the back of the head, steel grid pattern across the front.

Price doesn’t arch his eyebrows at it but it’s a near thing.

They duck their head in greeting when Laswell introduces them as Saint, eyes flicking up briefly to each team member, eye-shine reflecting green in the bright runway lights.

Soap whistles, impressed.

“Yer a big ‘un, tha’s fer damn sure. Didnae ken they make ‘em like ye,” he drawls. Ghost cuffs him upside the head, reminding him to behave.

Saint blinks and doesn’t say anything. Curious.

“Let’s do proper introductions inside,” Price decides.

It goes much the same way in the 141’s den as it did out on the tarmac. Saint stands quiet and still while the Omegas take their turns.

There’s no scent to familiarize themselves with, so it’s mostly offering theirs to the Alpha. Except Saint doesn’t duck down to the neck Gaz offers. Instead, they pluck up his hand and bring his wrist to their muzzle. Inhale so quietly that only the swell of their chest indicates that they’re breathing him in.

They chuff softly, hold so loose that Gaz’s hand nearly drops from theirs. It’s approval, it can’t be anything else, but it sounds so… detached.

Still, Gaz chuffs in return, and makes way for the others. Saint does the same to Soap and by the time Simon steps up, he’s already tugging his sleeve up and his glove down.

Simon, to his own surprise, receives the same polite huff as the two sergeants. Most Alphas have found his direct scent to be unpleasant - too sharp and savory, bordering on Alpha. But Saint doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

When it’s finally Price’s turn, the only difference is that Saint swipes their own wrist along his. Scent claim. Not marking the 141 as theirs, but rather Saint as belonging with them.

Laswell, suspiciously amused, takes her leave soon after.

The 141 has an Alpha. A permanent one.

Living with an Alpha would have been a learning curve on its own. Living with SAINT is something else entirely.

For one, they apply clinical-strength neutralizer religiously. They have spares stashed everywhere. In their go-bag, their combat gear, the den, the lockers - even one in Price’s office. It’s better than the ones with fragrance, but if not for their ever-present muzzle, no one would be able to tell that they’re an Alpha.

And speaking of the muzzle.

It goes beyond common courtesy and public conduct. Even in the den, they keep the thing tightly pressed to their face, and don’t remove it for anything. They eat in their room and drink through straws when necessary.

When Price tells them that the team wouldn’t mind if they used a bite guard in the den, they just chuff softly and brush a hand along his shoulder. The muzzle stayed.

It’s not to say they don’t seem comfortable. Day by day, little signs of trust and ease seep into their Alpha’s mannerisms if they know where to look for it. A brush of skin here, a sub-vocal purr there. Spending hours upon hours in the den, available for any of the Omegas to sit with or cuddle or chat to. As much as teammate as an Alpha in the traditional sense.

It doesn’t take Soap and Gaz long at all to start hanging all over them, but Saint takes it with all the patience of their namesake. Price finds Soap lounging in their lap most times that they’re sitting, or leaning hard into their side while they watch recruits.

The muzzle is a no-touch zone, but they don’t get even growl the first time Soap discovers that. They just redirect him with a quiet click of their tongue, and let him nuzzle in when he apologizes.

Gaz is hardly any better, scent marking Saint like some bad Alpha stereotype. Poor thing goes around smelling overwhelmingly of bergamot and honey sometimes, but they never mind, never stop him from pressing his face to their chest or their back or even into their hands. Rubbing his face over any bit of skin or fabric available, even their jugular, despite the vulnerability of such a spot.

Still, Saint is aloof.

They’re perfectly responsive to their Omegas, head tilting at the slightest vocalization, quick to offer physical comfort when asked. They hardly ever seek it out for themself though, and show none of the near-obsessive behaviors associated with even the most mild of Alphas on the spectrum.

“I dinnae think Alpha likes us,” Soap whines one evening.

Saint is eating in their room, leaving the Omegas to a cuddle pile while they wait for their return.

He’s been lamenting it for a while now, repressing the rejected pang in his gut any time Saint doesn’t vocalize back, or reach for them first.

They work out in the Alpha-Only gym on base and do their laundry in the designated Alpha wash. Neither of those are regulations, it’s a choice they make. And it hurts a bit.

Saint is sweet, but their politeness goes past the point of old-fashioned.

“Course they do,” Simon grunts, dismissive. “They probably like us too much.”

“How do you reckon?” Gaz asks.

“Alpha didn’ go t’ eat ‘til we were all fed,” he replies, shrugging.

And it’s true. Saint doesn’t collect a scrap of nutrition until every one of their Omegas has had something to eat. Even Price, stubborn and work-focused as he can be, is gently urged to eat before Saint fills their own belly.

It doesn’t stop there.

Saint is always the last one on or off a transport, and quick to notice if any of them are injured. They’re always present around large groups of other Alphas, especially recruits.

The sheer amount of time they spend available is unusual, preferring the den to rest in their off hours - even sleeping there on occasion.

Then Gaz’s heat is due. A week out and he’s already feeling it descending - it’s been well over six months since his last one. His skin feels itchy, his senses on overdrive. Thirsty and hungry and generally feeling restless beneath the skin.

“Alpha,” he calls.

Saint’s eyes are on him instantly, one-sided conversation with some other, non-Pack Omega forgotten. Gaz purrs, pleased.

“I want something of yours.”

They tilt their head, a silent question.

“A shirt or something,” he specifies.

And something in their gaze flickers. Gaz isn’t sure what it means, but it definitely looks positive.

Saint brings him something better - a blanket. It’s intimate; it’s perfect. It smells incredible, if… oddly faded. From his most reserved Pack member, it means the world.

Gaz balls himself up with it in the nest he assembles over the next day and a half, until he wakes up one morning with the knowledge that his heat will l well and truly have taken hold before midday.

He puts in his notice and calls his Pack.

Saint is the last to enter his barrack, a huge bag of supplies in their arms. Not just for Gaz, but for the rest of them. No one will be leaving unless duty calls.

And it’s perfect. The best heat Gaz has ever had. Surrounded by Pack and protected by his Alpha, who stays on watch while Price and Ghost and Soap fuck him through the dregs of preheat and well into Heat proper.

Half of him purrs at his Alpha’s dedication to protecting them, to providing for them. The other half protests the Alpha’s attention being anywhere but on him.

“Alpha,” he calls. And when that only earns him Saint’s eyes and not his affection, he barks, sharper, “Alpha.”

They come to him instantly, settled in between his legs, smooth their thumbs along the glands at the base of his neck. He curls into them trilling and chirping and needing more than just social acceptability right now.

And finally, finally, a low rumble sounds through his Alpha’s chest. It’s deep and rich, hits the subharmonics in a way that has all the Omegas going still and quiet. Their voice purrs out a moment later, practically vibrating their skulls.

“Easy, Omega.”

Gaz bares his neck, whispering, “Saint.”

They lean in, breathing loud and deep, warm hands soothing an ache in his lower back. “I’m here, Kyle.”

They fuck well into sundown, Kyle so wound up that he can’t bear to be parted from Saint to even let them breathe. Any space between them is whined or growled or bitten out of existence, the ever-indulgent Alpha soothing their Omega with their body, with the newly discovered vocalizations that he just can’t get enough of.

Ghost and Price have to feed and hydrate him between rounds, working together to manage his clingy limbs and careless (but sharp) teeth. In the meantime, Soap helps to do the same for Saint, who is far more cooperative.

“How’re you still goin’?” Soap wonders, amazed, slipping bites of granola between the bars of their muzzle. Saint is sitting upright with Gaz collected against their chest, sweaty but already breathing evenly again.

Saint licks a bit of chocolate off their lip and meets his eyes easy as anything, serene for how blown out their pupils are.

“I’m your Alpha. I go until you need me to stop.”

Which just sets them all off, each taking (needing) a turn with their Alpha.

By then, their neutralizer has begun to wear off, friction and sweat and fabric thinning the chemical deodorant to nothing. The scent is intoxicating, unlike anything any of them have ever smelled before. It’s overwhelmingly Alpha, overwhelmingly good. Even Ghost and Price, rare to bend the knee to anyone, find themselves weak for that scent.

No wonder Saint keeps it on lock, it’s practically a weapon in itself, not demanding submission but expecting it. A foregone conclusion. In a social setting it would be a brutal domination, rude wouldn’t even be the right word for it.

Saint isn’t just an Alpha, they’re on the extreme end of the spectrum.

The kind that comes with counseling and desensitizing therapies. Etiquette schools and specialized doctors.

The kind of Alpha that can not only manage four chaotic Omegas, but give them what they need.

With types like Saint, Alpha isn’t just a designation, it’s a title. And the 141 is proud that it’s theirs.

[dpspcehntr]

Kink Series: Sylus

Zayne || Rafayel || Xavier

Pairing: Sylus x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: sensory deprivation, blind folds, light bondage, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), P in V, squirting, over stimulation, cream pie, light biting, pain kink (if you squint)

A/N: When I started writing this I was so stumped. Sylus is just so soft and gentle with MC it was so hard to find something he would actually be into. Thankfully this lovely community post gifsets and so inspiration has hit! I can’t see him as anything but a careful and attentive overachiever, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. As always reblogs are deeply appreciated and I hope you enjoy!

“At any point you can tell me to stop. You have to promise me kitten.”

Sylus wraps the blindfold over your eyes. You run your hands over the smooth fabric as you listen to his breathing.

“I’ll let you know., I promise.”

Without your sight you give yourself over to Sylus, you trusted him but he still had some reservations.

“Are you comfortable?”

You can’t see him but you envision his worried eyes as he watched you settle onto the bed. Your brain is surprisingly quiet as you give into your other senses. You press yourself deeper into the bed, embracing what’s in store.

“I’m comfortable. Relaxed even. You’d be surprised how nice it feels. Maybe next time?”

He leans down just inches away from your face. His breath tickles your lips and you sigh.

“Next time, kitten? Already planning your next move I see.”

He plants his lips on yours with a soft kiss. He trails his fingers down your body. You arch into his touch, his fingers lingering on your erect nipples. You gasp as his lips graze your jaw and neck. Your heightened senses make everything more intense as his fingers trail lower on your body. You whine as his fingers trail the inside of your inner thigh. His mouth trails lower, following the path of his fingers. While his fingers slowly press into your core, he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. You cry out as his fingers slip deeper into you finding your sweet spot. You morn the loss of his mouth on your chest as he kisses lower on your body. You whine and sigh out his name as he continues to leave you breathless. Every touch, every noise feels all the more intense without your sight. You couldn’t see where he’d end up next and the anticipation left you dripping and clenching around his fingers. His lips graze your inner thigh, biting and sucking lightly. He licks from your aching clit to your dripping hole, his other hand grips your hips holding you down. You try to thrust and writhe into him but he keeps you firmly planted on the bed. You can only listen to the noises as he sucks on your clit and scissors you open. You arch further, carding your fingers in his hair and pushes him deeper into you. You grab a fistful and pull feeling him groan into you. He laps you up as your climax begins to build up. You grip his hair harder as your orgasm rips through you. You gush over his lips and chin as he continues to thrust his fingers into you. You try to pull him away from your overly sensitive clit but he doesn’t budge. Your next orgasm rolls out of you as he intensifies his movements. You whine above him, desire coursing through you. You don’t know when your highs start and stop. He’s so lost in the feeling of you it feels like hours before he pulls his fingers out. He releases your clit with a pop as you sink back onto the bed. You hear the clank of his belt hitting the floor. The rustling of his clothes being removed has you yearning and waiting for what else he has in store.

“Ready kitten?”

He lines himself up with your entrance, already dripping for him. You let out a weak yes as he slowly thrusts into you. Once fully inside you (uh). His place is slow and torturous setting every nerve in your body on fire. Your blindfold only adding to your lust, hearing how much he was enjoying himself but being denied to see it turned you on more than you thought. You were in complete bliss, loving the feeling of him fucking you and trusting you completely, trusting your judgement and more importantly trusting himself with you. You arch deeper into him and he takes the opportunity to slide one of his arms underneath you. With his shift in position you can feel his breath on your neck as he leans down to pepper kisses across it. You cry out hoarsely as he increases his thrusts. You could no longer hold back your release, already feeling overstimulated. You squirt over him as he continues to pump in and out of you.

“Fuck.”

He whispers in your ear as he keeps up his pace. It senses your mind reeling as a shiver of desire courses through you. If only you could see how beautiful he looks right now. You mind conjuring up all kinds of images as he quickens his pace. His breath is hot on your neck as he pants and grunts in your ear. He lightly bites down on your shoulder, lost in the feeling of being inside you. You gasp, the pain of it only turns you on more. You clench down on him with a groan as he quickens his pace. He thrusts deeper into you as his release begins to creep up. You clench down onto him as another orgasm washes over you. He stays deep inside you, filling you with his cum as you milked him dry. He pauses for only a moment before he’s thrusting back into you. Your nails dig into his back as he plows into you. Your release rolls into the next as you cling to him. Tonight he wasn’t holding back, his trust in you furthering his own stamina. He continues to have his fill, fucking you and filling you with cum. Your whole body begging for just one more as he fucks you to his satisfaction. He rolls his hips into you one last time before thrusting deep into you and releasing the last of his load. He pauses for another moment, letting himself go soft inside you. He finally pulls out as his cum leaks from your hole onto the sheets. You groan at his absence but are quickly shushed with a kiss. Soon you feel his hands beginning to undo the ties of the blindfold. You blink a few times before taking a look at Sylus. His pupils are blown, his hair is a mess and he looks blissfully fucked out. You shudder at the sight of him before realizing the pain coming from your hips.

“Careful kitten, you need to rest now. I’ll clean you up.”

You try to protest but a yawn interrupts you. He leans down to place a kiss on each of your eyelids before getting up to get a washcloth. By the time he returned you were already fast asleep. He plants a kiss on your forehead before cleaning you up and letting you sleep.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Under Her Command

dom!alpha!Agatha Harkness x omega!reader

Word count: 2.3K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, a/b/o, omegaverse, Agatha has a cock, power dynamics, pheromones, marking, breeding

Authors notes: I really love Alpha!Agatha. This is the second time I've written her and I feel like I get carried away when I'm writing for her.

The evening air blowing through Agatha Harkness’ house was thick with the scent of dominance and anticipation. You, with your naturally shy demeanor, were curled up on the plush couch, wearing one of Agatha’s silk robes that barely reached mid-thigh. The scent of her lingering pheromones in the fabric clung to your skin, reminding you of who you belonged to.

Agatha, the most powerful alpha you’d ever known, paced in front of the large window, her piercing eyes watching the city lights but her mind clearly focused on you. She had a quiet authority about her, her movements deliberate, her scent potent and commanding in the air. Even without her heightened alpha nature, she would have controlled any room she walked into.

“You’ve been so patient, mega,” she finally spoke, her voice like velvet, drawing your attention instantly. The deep timbre of her tone caused your breath to hitch.

She turned towards you, eyes dark with unspoken desire, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled deeply, sensing the way your heat was starting to stir beneath your skin. You tried to sit still, to be good, but every muscle in your body felt charged, yearning for her touch.

“Come here,” she commanded softly, and your legs moved before your mind even registered it. Your bare feet padded across the cool floor as you approached her, head slightly bowed as you fought the instinct to expose your neck.

When you stood before her, she cupped your chin gently, tilting your head up to meet her gaze. Agatha’s thumb brushed over your lower lip, her eyes flicking down to your mouth before meeting your eyes again.

“Such a good little omega for me,” she murmured, her lips curling into a smirk. “You know I’ve been thinking about you all day, don’t you?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as her scent of sandalwood surrounded you, more intense now, laced with the spice of her arousal. You could barely manage a nod, overwhelmed by the power she held over you.

“I can smell you,” Agatha continued, her voice a low growl as she leaned in close, lips grazing your ear. “You’re ready for me, aren’t you? You can’t hide it.”

A soft whimper escaped your throat, and she chuckled darkly, satisfied by your response. Agatha’s hands slid down your sides, tracing the curve of your hips before gripping your waist firmly.

“I’ve spoiled you for too long,” she mused, her fingers tightening their hold as she pulled you flush against her body. “But tonight… tonight you’ll learn how to beg properly, omega.”

Your breath caught as she leaned down, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, just above where her claiming mark had once been. The reminder of it sent a shiver of longing through you, your heat starting to build, aching for her.

“On your knees,” Agatha growled, and before you knew it, you were on the floor, looking up at your alpha with wide, pleading eyes.

Her smirk widened as she towered over you, completely in control. “Now, little one, let’s see how well you can behave.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you kneeled before Agatha, your body already responding to her commands, the omega inside you desperate to submit. Agatha's scent was intoxicating, filling the room with a potent mixture of her dominance and arousal. It wrapped around you like a warm blanket, making it harder to think clearly, as your only focus became pleasing your alpha.

Agatha tilted your chin up with two fingers, her sharp gaze locking onto yours. The way she looked at you made your skin tingle, the hunger in her eyes sending a shiver down your spine. “Good girl,” she murmured, her voice a husky whisper that sent a surge of need straight to your core. “You’re so perfect like this, on your knees where you belong.”

You felt your body heat up under her praise, a quiet whimper escaping your lips as she traced her thumb over your bottom lip. The gesture was gentle, but the possessiveness in her touch made it clear—you were hers, utterly and completely.

“Open your mouth for me,” she commanded, her voice laced with authority. Instinctively, you obeyed, parting your lips as you stared up at her. She smirked, her thumb slipping past your lips, pressing down on your tongue. “That’s it. Such a pretty little thing.”

Your breath hitched as Agatha watched you, her dark eyes burning with desire. She was always so composed, always in control, but there was a dangerous edge to her tonight. You could feel it in the way she touched you, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the power she had over you.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” Agatha asked, withdrawing her thumb, her fingers curling under your chin to lift your gaze back to hers.

“Yes, Alpha,” you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Her smirk widened, clearly pleased with your submission. “I want to hear you say it again.”

“I’m yours, Alpha,” you whispered, feeling the words vibrate in your chest. The truth of them resonated deep within you, an unbreakable bond that only strengthened your need for her.

Agatha’s grip on your chin tightened as she leaned down, her breath hot against your ear. “Good girl,” she purred, her voice sending a thrill through your entire body. “Now, show me how much you need me.”

Without hesitation, you leaned forward, your hands resting on her thighs as you pressed your cheek against her. Agatha’s scent was even stronger here, rich and musky, making your mouth water with need. You nuzzled her thigh, a soft whine escaping your throat as you craved her touch, her approval, anything to ease the growing ache inside you.

Agatha chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through her body. “So needy,” she murmured, her hand slipping into your hair, tugging it back gently to force you to look up at her again. “Look at you, already begging without even saying a word. Do you know how perfect you are for me?”

Your heart fluttered at her words, and the heat between your legs became almost unbearable. “Please, Alpha,” you whimpered, your voice barely more than a breath.

Agatha’s eyes darkened as her grip in your hair tightened. “Please what, little omega?” she teased, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

“Please… I need you,” you gasped, your body trembling with desire as you met her gaze. “I need you, Alpha. Please…”

The smug smile that spread across Agatha’s face made your pulse race. She loved seeing you like this, completely at her mercy, begging for her touch. “Good girl,” she praised, her thumb brushing your cheek affectionately before she released your hair. “You’re going to make me very proud tonight.”

Agatha stepped back, her presence still looming over you as she shed her jacket, revealing the crisp lines of her blouse beneath. Every movement was controlled, deliberate, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away as she undid the first few buttons, exposing the pale skin of her collarbone.

“Do you want to please your alpha?” she asked, her voice low and commanding, drawing you back to the task at hand.

“Yes, Alpha,” you whispered, your voice full of reverence as you watched her. You wanted nothing more than to make her happy, to prove that you were a good omega for her.

Agatha’s smirk deepened as she took her seat in the nearby chair, legs crossed casually as she looked down at you. “Then come here, little one. Crawl to me.”

Your heart raced as you dropped to all fours, your body moving without thought as you crawled toward her, the plush carpet soft under your hands and knees. You could feel her eyes on you, watching your every movement with that predatory gleam that made your body tremble.

When you finally reached her, you rested your head against her knee, waiting for her next command, her scent overwhelming your senses.

Agatha’s hand came down to stroke your hair, her touch both possessive and tender. “That’s it, omega,” she cooed softly. “Now, let me take care of you.”

Agatha’s fingers slid gently through your hair, the touch soothing yet igniting something deeper within you. Your skin buzzed under the intensity of her gaze as she surveyed you kneeling before her, utterly obedient and submissive. Her control was absolute, her mere presence making every fiber of your being crave more.

She lifted your chin again, her thumb brushing across your lips, teasing them open. "You're so eager for me, aren’t you?" she whispered, voice dark and laced with promise.

“Yes, Alpha,” you breathed, the need to please her overwhelming any other thought in your mind.

Agatha hummed in approval, her hand caressing down your jaw, her fingertips tracing the pulse at your neck. She could feel how fast your heart was beating, the anticipation electrifying between you. Her touch became firmer as her hand traveled down your chest, fingers brushing the fabric of the robe you wore—her robe—before tugging it open with a deliberate slowness.

The cool air met your heated skin, but it wasn’t the cold that made you shiver. It was Agatha’s smirk, the possessive glint in her eyes as she took in the sight of you, completely exposed and vulnerable before her.

“Such a pretty little omega,” she purred, her hand trailing lower, her nails grazing your stomach. “So perfect for me.” The praise sent warmth flooding through you, your body instinctively arching into her touch, desperate for more.

You whimpered softly, the sound drawing a low chuckle from Agatha. She leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "Do you know how lucky you are to have an alpha like me? One who knows exactly what you need, even before you ask?"

You nodded, though your thoughts were scattered, your focus consumed entirely by her.

“Good girl.” Her voice was like velvet, dark and thick, wrapping around you like a spell. Agatha sat back, her fingers skimming the edge of your panties before hooking into the waistband and tugging them down. “But I want to hear you beg properly this time.”

A rush of heat pooled between your legs as the cool air kissed your skin. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips parting as you inhaled sharply, trying to steady your breath. “Please, Alpha… I need you so much,” you whimpered, your voice shaking with desperation. “Please touch me.”

Agatha raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening as she leaned back in the chair, casually crossing her legs. Her dominance was effortless, her posture relaxed, though you could feel the raw power radiating from her. She was toying with you, savoring the control she had over you.

“I’ll touch you when I’m ready, little omega,” she replied, her voice dripping with amusement. “I want to see just how far you’ll go to get what you want.”

Your pulse quickened, the need almost unbearable as you squirmed under her gaze. She wasn’t going to make this easy for you; she never did. Agatha loved to push you, to see how much you could handle before you broke and gave in completely.

You leaned forward, your forehead pressing against her thigh as your hands gripped the edge of her chair. “Please, Alpha,” you pleaded, your voice thick with need. “I’ll be so good for you. I promise. Just… please…”

Agatha’s fingers wove back into your hair, tugging it lightly as she forced you to look up at her. Her eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction. “Oh, I know you’ll be good,” she murmured, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “You always are. That’s why I love watching you fall apart.”

Without warning, Agatha pulled you closer, her knee slipping between your thighs, pressing lightly against your aching core. The sudden pressure made you gasp, your hips instinctively grinding down as you sought more of her touch.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Agatha teased, gripping your hair tightly to keep you still. “You don’t get to move unless I tell you to.”

You whimpered, the frustration and desire building to a fever pitch as you tried to hold yourself back. Every inch of you ached for her, for her to take you and claim you completely. But Agatha was in control. She always was.

“Good girl,” she praised softly, loosening her grip in your hair as she leaned down to capture your lips in a slow, heated kiss. The taste of her consumed you, her tongue teasing yours as her hand slid between your thighs, finally giving you the touch you so desperately craved.

You moaned into the kiss, your body trembling as her fingers brushed lightly against your slick folds, teasing but not yet giving you the release you needed. “Please, Alpha…” you begged again, your voice muffled against her lips.

Agatha pulled back, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she watched you squirm beneath her touch. “That’s it, little omega,” she whispered, her fingers pressing deeper, making your body arch in response. “Let me hear you beg for me.”

“Please… more, Alpha, please…” you gasped, your body shaking with need as you felt yourself falling deeper into the overwhelming heat of your submission. You were completely at her mercy, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Agatha’s smirk grew darker as she finally gave in, her fingers sliding inside you, her other hand holding you firmly in place. “You’re mine,” she growled softly, her voice sending shivers down your spine as you moaned her name. “Every inch of you belongs to me.”

“Yes Alpha! All yours!” Agatha’s hands finally moved back only to be replaced with her cock, pushing inside you with ease as you both moaned at the feeling. With that, she claimed you fully, pushing you over the edge with her cock, your body trembling as you surrendered completely to your alpha.

Pumping in and out in a fluid motion as you clawed at her back, leaving marks until given permission by her own biting of your neck that you could in fact do the same back as she knotted and came inside of you, painting your walls white with her seed.

“Fuck...you’re going to look so good carrying my pups.”

[bamfkeeper]

Choke.

RQ: 'I can't remember if I put this in or not so ignore this if I did, but PLSSSS that Kurt choking drabble w/ his tail that another asker suggested...... I beg of you 💙 I read your work non-stop it's SO good' - @citiirose

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+ | Tail play, choking, unprotected sex, slight dirty talk

A/N: Hehe I'm happy to deliver <3 This is a little drabble so it's shorter than a regular fic, but ugh it was fun to do. He'd be so cheeky about this. I know not everyone likes WatXM Kurt, but I like the tail wiggle in the gif sooo. I always choose pics/versions I think match the scenario. BUT you imagine whichever one you want! Unedited ;; WC: 1.3k

Kurt was well aware of your fondness for his tail, and the mischievous German never missed an opportunity to tease you with its gentle spade. He would utilize it in various, tantalizing ways, each designed to heighten your senses and stir your desires in inappropriate situations. He would trace delicate patterns along your sides, sending shivers down your spine.

Or he would allow it to graze ever so lightly between your legs, igniting that dark spark of anticipation within you. And if he was feeling particularly cheeky, he would playfully tap it against your ass, eliciting a soft sound from your lips.

Given his penchant for incorporating his tail into his flirtatious repertoire, it was no surprise when Kurt decided to explore its potential in more intimate settings. The bedroom became a new playground.

He buried himself into you, balls slapping your ass as he thrusted into you. His hips moved in swift, rhythmic motions as his hands firmly grasped your form, his fuzzy chest pressing against the smooth expanse of your bare back. Kurt's lips found their way to your ear, whispering an array of sweet nothings, his voice thick with his distinctive accent and growing increasingly breathy as he exerted himself, his impressive stamina never failed him.

Your body responded instinctively to him, gentle moans escaping your lips and increasing with every thrust he delivered. These sounds of pleasure were effortlessly drawn out by his expert touch, he knew how to play you like an instrument he mastered. Between ragged breaths, you managed to speak, your voice heavy with desire. "Oh, Kurt... you feel so good..." The words tumbled from your lips as your body unconsciously pressed further into his embrace.

He grinned and exposed his fangs, his tail slowly snaking up your body with deliberate, teasing movements. The flexible appendage traced delicate patterns across your skin, your body tried to lean into it as it snaked around you. He gradually encircled your neck, the warm, velveteen texture felt delicious on your heated flesh.

As he applied a gentle pressure, you felt your pulse quicken, the sensation of his tail wrapped around your throat igniting a primal response within you. Your core throbbed with an intensity that surprised even you, each subtle squeeze sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The light constriction began to affect your senses, creating a heady mix of arousal and lightheadedness that was intoxicating.

The slight restriction of blood flow induced a euphoric buzz, your mind growing pleasantly hazy as your other senses seemed to sharpen in response. Every touch, every breath, every subtle movement became magnified, your nerve endings singing with heightened sensitivity. It was as if Kurt had unlocked a new realm of sensory experience, one that teetered exquisitely on the edge of danger and ecstasy. You played with your senses during sex before, since his body held such a unique texture, but this…was completely new and hot.

A breathy, desperate mewl seemed to come from the very depths of your being, escaping your lips and making his pointed ears prick up. Your body moved of its own accord, pressing back against Kurt with an urgency that surprised even you. The friction between your bodies only served to stoke the flames of your desire higher.

"Kurt..." you gasped, your voice thick with need and raw emotion. "Yes, yes!" The words tumbled from your lips in a frenzied litany, each syllable dripping with unbridled arousal. "Kurt..." you moaned again, your inhibitions crumbling in the face of overwhelming pleasure as you tried to convey your desires without getting lost. "Squeeze harder!" The plea erupted from you, a passionate demand born of pure, unadulterated want. Your voice was usually so controlled, but now it quivered with the intensity of your arousal.

He blinked, his eyes widening in surprise at your passionate reaction to being choked with his tail, exhilaration coursed through him as he processed your unexpected enthusiasm. After a moment of stunned silence, Kurt's lips curved into a devilish grin, his golden eyes gleaming with newfound intrigue.

Chuckling softly, he decided to indulge your apparent desire, carefully tightening his tail ever so slightly around your neck. The pressure increased just enough to be noticeable, but remained far from causing any actual harm or discomfort. The spade slowly squirmed its way past your lips, laying on your tongue as he felt your saliva gather and drool out past your lips. Kurt's voice dropped to a low, husky whisper as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"Ach, you like this, liebling? Well, well...you are quite the naughty little thing, aren't you? I must admit, I didn't realize you'd derive such pleasure from having mein tail curled around your neck like this..." His words were laced with a mixture of amusement and growing arousal, his hips snapped into you faster, his cock felt like it was throbbing inside you. Precum pooling inside you, coating your inner walls as he edged you to feeling his load to come.

You let out open, unrestrained moans as his spade pressed firmly against your tongue, your mouth remained slightly agape, a mix of pleasure and anticipation evident in your expression. Your hips were driven by intense desire, pressed back eagerly into his with each thrust delivered, seeking more contact, more friction. Meanwhile his tail continued to gently coil around your neck, adding another layer of sensation to the already intense experience.

He expertly manipulated the pressure, applying more force for several tantalizing seconds before loosening his grip, only to repeat the process again and again. This rhythmic pulsing sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, each cycle building upon the last, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. You felt your face grow hot when he increased the pressure and lessened the blood flow, it was so damn good.

"Squeeze harder, I can take it, goddamnit…please Kurt, don’t fucking trade me anymore!" you begged, the words tumbled from your lips without thought or hesitation. You found yourself in a state of arousal unlike anything you had experienced before, the intensity of your desire catching you off guard. You couldn't pinpoint the exact source of this overwhelming horniness, nor could you fully comprehend why you were acting so desperate and wanton. Kurt hadn’t really choked you before, besides a light touch to your neck with his hand. Was it really just his tail that was making you feel this way?

All rational thought had been pushed aside, replaced by a singular, all-consuming need. In this moment, all you wanted, all you could focus on, was the burning desire to reach your climax, to feel that sweet release that seemed so close yet frustratingly out of reach.

Your desperate plea was abruptly muffled as his spade-tipped tail pushed deeper into your mouth, effectively silencing your words. You emitted a stifled sound in response; while it didn't obstruct your breathing, it successfully prevented you from articulating further demands.

"Such a vulgar tongue..." Kurt growled, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck. His voice dropped to a menacing whisper as he nipped at your earlobe with his razor-sharp teeth. "Perhaps I need to teach you in the art of proper etiquette, liebe?" The term of endearment contrasted sharply with the dark promise in his tone. "Your release will come only when you've mastered the skill of asking politely...without that filthy language."

His prehensile tail constricted further around your neck, the pressure intensifying to an almost unbearable degree. The sensation was overwhelming, causing your eyes to roll back in your head as waves of pleasure coursed through your body. Your sex throbbed and twitched, desperate and threatening to cum just from the feeling of his tail choking you. Kurt maintained his relentless rhythm, each powerful thrust driving his cock as deep as it could go and guiding you closer to the edge of ecstasy while denying you the final push you so desperately craved.

“Now…let’s see how long you last.”

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[thef1diary]

Behave | P. Gasly

Kinktober 9/11 - Spanking

Summary: Pierre finds a new way to punish you for misbehaving

warnings: 18+ smut, spanking, pussy spanking, spreader bar, unprotected sex

wc: 4k

kinktober masterlist

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

“Someone needs to learn how to behave,” Pierre murmured, his voice low and rough. His hand moves to your waist, pulling you closer until you can feel the heat radiating from him, every breath fanning the embers of something wild inside you.

“Pierre,” you breathed, his name escaping your lips in a soft, desperate whisper. There’s a tremor in your voice, a quiet plea that you can’t quite articulate, as though you’re not entirely sure what you’re asking for—whether it’s mercy or more of his touch. Your gaze locks onto his, wide and pleading, searching for something in the storm of his eyes.

The atmosphere is charged, electricity crackling in the air as you hold Pierre’s gaze. His expression is full of heat and mischief, the corner of his mouth curling into a knowing smirk that sends a shiver down your spine. You can sense the shift in his demeanor—playfulness giving way to something darker, more intense.

“You know what happens to bad girls, don’t you?” He said as he stepped closer, his fingertips grazing your cheek before trailing down to your jaw, tilting your face up toward his. “I think it’s time I teach you a lesson, ma belle.”

Pierre’s words hang in the air as he leans in to brush a kiss against the edge of your lips—just a whisper of contact that only stokes the growing heat within you, far from enough to satisfy the desire simmering between you.

Before you can chase the sensation, Pierre slips back, his departure was swift as the fleeting kiss. He settles onto the couch, reclining with a confidence that sends a thrill through your veins. His gaze never strays from you, the weight of it heavy with intent as he parts his legs, creating a space meant just for you. He holds his hand out, fingers curling in a silent command for you to come closer.

“Viens ici,” (come here) he instructed, the French rolling off his tongue, low and smooth. There’s a dark intensity in his voice, a firm edge that leaves no room for doubt—you will obey.

You take a step forward, then another, until you’re standing between his knees, your breath shallow as the anticipation coils tighter inside you. Pierre’s touch is gentle yet possessive as he grips your hips, guiding you even closer. His fingers work at the waistband of your pants, and without breaking eye contact, he eases them down, inch by inch, letting the fabric slide to the floor. The cool air brushes against your newly exposed skin, heightening the sensitivity of every inch he reveals.

“Good,” he murmurs, almost to himself, as he slips his hand around to cup the back of your thigh, his thumb grazing the curve just below your hip. His other hand traces a path over your lower back, the warmth of his palm searing through you as he guides you down, draping you over his lap with deliberate care.

The position feels simultaneously vulnerable and thrilling—his arm settles over your lower back, keeping you pinned there, while the cool leather beneath you contrasts sharply with the heat radiating from his body. His hand rests on the curve of your ass, fingers spreading slightly to caress your skin. It’s a light touch, almost teasing, that sends a shiver through you before his palm lifts.

“Count them,” he instructs, his voice deep and commanding, the tone sending a shiver through you.

Before you can even prepare yourself, his palm comes down hard against your skin, the first smack landing with a sharp crack that reverberates through the room. The sting radiates outward, spreading into a heat that blooms across your flesh as you gasp in surprise. His hand doesn’t pull away; instead, it stays there, pressing into the warm spot he’s just marked, his fingers kneading the sore skin with a touch that’s both comforting and tantalizing, making the ache linger in the most delicious way.

“One,” you manage to whisper, your voice shaky as you draw in a breath.

Pierre hums in approval, the sound low and satisfied, as his hand lifts once more. This time, the blow is firmer, more deliberate, and the sting is sharper, making you let out a trembling exhale. “Two…” you whisper, feeling a wave of heat wash over you—not just from the spanks, but from the building tension winding tighter inside you.

His strikes follow a rhythm, precise and unhurried, each one calculated to draw a different response from you. As his hand lands again and again, your reactions vary—a soft gasp, a low whimper, the way your fingers clutch at the couch’s edge for something to hold on to. With each slap, you feel the warmth spreading further, the skin tingling under his touch, the heat pooling low in your belly.

Pierre’s hand drifts over the heated skin, rubbing the tender spots where the sting lingers. His fingers slip lower, tracing the curve of your thigh, barely grazing the edge of your underwear.

As his hand brushes over the fabric of your underwear, his fingertips pause for the briefest of moments. His touch shifts slightly, exploring, and he notices the dampness that’s begun to seep through the material, a subtle but undeniable sign of how his discipline is affecting you. A wicked smile curves across his lips as he presses his fingers against the growing wetness, a teasing pressure that makes your breath hitch.

“What’s this?,” he murmurs, his tone dark with satisfaction. “You’re already soaking for me.” His hand slips away just as you start to lean into his touch, and he brings it down again with a sharp swat, landing directly over the damp spot, the force sending a jolt of pleasure through you that mixes with the sting.

“Count,” he demands, his voice thick with control, his eyes watching intently as you struggle to catch your breath.

“Five,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you feel the heat building, not just on your skin, but deep inside you, the ache spreading and intertwining with the damp fabric pressed between your thighs.

Pierre’s grip tightens around the waistband of your underwear, and with a sudden, forceful tug, he pulls the fabric upward. The flimsy material digs into your skin as he shoves it between the cheeks of your ass, exposing you fully. The sensation of the fabric sliding against your most sensitive areas is a sharp contrast to the cool air brushing over the newly exposed skin, making you shiver as you feel both vulnerable and on display.

“There we go,” he says, his tone low and possessive, as his fingers trail over the freshly revealed skin. He lingers at the edges of the taut fabric, pressing it in just a bit deeper, the pressure sending tiny shocks of sensation through you. His other hand rests on the small of your back, steadying you as you shift involuntarily at the intensity of his touch.

The exposure makes each moment feel heightened, every breath you take sharper, as Pierre’s gaze and hands travel over your heated flesh. The vulnerability amplifies the ache inside you, making it difficult to hold back the tiny, involuntary sounds that escape your lips as his fingers trace the outline of your exposed curves.

“Now,” he murmured, his voice a rich rumble that sends a shiver down your spine, “five more.” His hand smooths over the exposed flesh, as if savoring the sight and the warmth radiating from your skin. “Don’t lose count or we’ll start from one,” he added, his tone laced with that same commanding edge that makes your pulse quicken.

Before you can fully prepare yourself, his palm comes down again, harder this time. The smack lands with a resounding crack, the sting spreading sharply across your skin. You wince at the intensity, but the rush that follows is undeniably intoxicating, the heat blooming in waves that seem to sink deeper.

“Six,” you breathed, your voice trembling with a mix of pain and pleasure, the numbers becoming harder to say as your body reacts to every smack, every caress that follows.

He doesn’t give you a moment to recover. His hand strikes again, the sound echoing in the room as the heat on your skin intensifies. You draw in a ragged breath, the sting blending with a swelling ache that pulses through you.

“Seven,” you manage to whisper, your fingers curling tighter around the couch, as if searching for something to ground you amidst the spiraling sensations.

Pierre’s fingers massage the tender spots, sending a shudder through you, and you almost lose yourself in that comforting sensation—until he pulls back and lands another firm smack.

“Eight…” you whispered, the sound breaking at the end, your whole body taut as the tension inside you winds tighter and tighter.

He leans in close, his breath warm against your ear as his hand hovers over your skin, a teasing pause that makes your anticipation spike. “Two more, ma belle,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with authority and a hint of satisfaction. Then, without another word, his palm comes down again, and this time the sting is more pronounced, the sensation vibrating through your entire body.

“Nine,” you gasped, the number leaving your lips in a rush as you feel his hand rub over the heated skin once more, his touch gentle but deliberate, as though savoring your reactions.

The final strike comes swiftly, without warning, and it lands with a force that sends a jolt of pleasure-pain straight through you, making your breath hitch sharply in your throat.

“Ten,” you choked out, your voice trembling as the lingering heat settles into your flesh, and the ache inside you deepens into a craving you can’t quite quell.

After the last slap lands, your body trembling with a mixture of relief and lingering ache, Pierre’s hands slide over your skin, gently massaging the sore, reddened spots as if to soothe the stinging warmth he created. His touch shifts from punishing to possessive, his fingers tracing along your curves in a way that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Good, you’re behaving,” he murmured, his voice softening just a fraction. “You took that so well.” His touch remains firm yet comforting, and as his fingers slip lower, teasing the edge of your underwear again, you feel his approval seep through his caresses, each one promising more yet leaving you on the edge, craving what might come next.

“But we are not done yet, mon ange,” he stated, his voice rough with desire. Before you could react, he scooped you up effortlessly, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs as he hoisted you into his arms. Instinctively, your legs wrapped around his waist, and the heat of his body pressed flush against yours made it impossible to ignore the pulse of need that had been building inside you.

As he carried you toward the bedroom, you couldn’t help but grind against him, seeking any bit of friction to ease the ache deep within. His cock pressed against you through the fabric, and the way you moved against him made a low groan escape his throat. His grip on you tightened, one hand sliding down to cup your ass, where marks were surely forming, encouraging the movement as your hips rolled against him.

“You’re that desperate, hm?” he murmured against your ear, his voice darkly amused, yet there was a hunger in it that matched your own.

When he reached the bedroom, he pinned you against the wall beside the door, his hands gripping your thighs as he pressed his body even closer to yours. His mouth found your neck, kissing and biting with just enough pressure to make you gasp. “Look at you,” he rasped, his tone a mix of approval and possession. “Grinding on me like you can’t wait a moment longer, behaving like a bad girl again.”

His lips captured yours before you could deny his claim, before you could tell him that you’d behave for him. The kiss was rough and demanding, as if he was trying to consume every bit of your desire. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the way his muscles flexed under your touch as you clung to him, and the undeniable erection pressing between your legs as you ground against him one last time before he pulled you away from the wall.

With a sudden movement, he turned and carried you the rest of the way to the bed, tossing you down onto the mattress with a mixture of gentleness and roughness that left you breathless. The cool sheets felt like a shock against your flushed skin, but before you could catch your breath, he was on top of you, his body pinning you down as he kissed you deeply, his hands already roaming possessively over your exposed skin.

As he moved above you, his chain swung between your bodies, the cool metal brushing against your heated skin with each of his movements. The feeling of the chain dangling against your chest, combined with the weight of his body and the way his mouth devoured yours, made your head spin with need.

Pierre shuffled down your body, placing a lingering kiss as he went, until he reached the hem of your panties, the dampening patch growing with each passing second. He slipped his fingers into the waistband, pulling it away in one fluid motion, tossing the sheer fabric aside like it was nothing more than a fleeting thought. He placed his hands on your thighs, spreading his fingers wide to savor the softness of your skin. His grip tightened, fingers digging into your thighs, eliciting a delicious ache that coursed through your body. With effortless ease, he parted your legs, leaving you beautifully exposed on the bed, entirely at his mercy.

His gaze instantly dropped to your pussy, the soft sheen of your desire compelling him to lick his lips, a sly smirk creeping across his face. He leaned closer, his lips inches away from your cunt. Pierre’s eyes flicked back to yours, searching for your reaction, and he found you watching him with anticipation, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

With a teasing flick of his tongue, he parted your folds, savoring the sweet taste of your arousal. He dragged his tongue through your slickness, sending a wave of pleasure cascading through you. You arched your back instinctively, the sheets beneath your clenched fist crumpling as you felt a rush of warmth radiate from deep within.

Your other hand tangled in his hair, fingers curling tightly as you urged him closer, a soft whimper escaping your lips. He groaned at the sensation, pulling back just enough to place a soft kiss on your sensitive clit, igniting a spark that made you shudder.

Just as you surrendered to the sensation, he surprised you by bringing his palm down between your thighs, slapping your cunt. The suddenness of his touch jolted you, instinctively causing you to close your legs, a reflex born from both shock and desire.

He noticed immediately, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. “You can’t even keep your thighs open for me, can you?” he teased, a playful challenge lacing his voice. “If you can’t manage that, how do you expect me to believe you can be good, ma chérie?”

“Pierre—”

With a slow shake of his head, he stepped away from the bed, leaving you trembling with anticipation as he sauntered over to the closet. The cool air caressed your exposed skin, heightening your awareness of every sensation.

After a moment, he returned, and your breath caught sharply in your throat. In his hands was a spreader bar, its sleek surface gleaming under the soft light. It was crafted from polished metal, sturdy yet alluring, with two leather bands attached at either end—perfectly designed to secure your ankles in place. The sight of it sent a rush of heat flooding through you, a mixture of excitement and trepidation filling your veins.

“Maybe you’ll behave with this,” he said, his voice low and filled with promise. He approached with a predatory grace, the spreader bar held confidently in his grip. You could feel your heart racing as he knelt at the edge of the bed, his expression both commanding and enticing.

He gently tugged your legs apart, adjusting your position to accommodate the spreader bar. The cool metal felt foreign against your skin, and a thrill coursed through you as he positioned it perfectly between your ankles. You gasped softly at the sensation, the way it forced you open and vulnerable to him.

With deft movements, he wrapped the soft leather bands around your ankles, fastening them snugly to the ends of the bar. Each strap tightened around your skin, anchoring you in place and amplifying the thrill of submission.

“This will keep you spread and open for me,” he purred, his gaze roaming over your body with a mixture of hunger and admiration. The realization of your vulnerability sent a rush of heat flooding through you, a mix of anticipation and desire igniting in your core.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin as he surveyed the scene before him. “Just relax and let go,” he instructed, his voice a velvety whisper that wrapped around you like a warm embrace. “You’re safe here with me.”

With you secured and vulnerable, Pierre’s gaze darkened with a mix of desire and intent. He brought his palm down against your soft skin, the impact sending ripples of sensation through your body. The weight of his hand felt commanding, anchoring you in place as he explored.

“This time,” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips, “you won’t be able to close your thighs.” His fingers began to trace lazy patterns along your inner thighs, the teasing caress leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The spreader bar held you open, and you could only gasp as he relished in your exposure.

As his hand came down against your pussy, the jolt of sensation shot through you like electricity. Your back arched instinctively, a desperate attempt to ease the overwhelming feeling that coursed through you. The urge to close your legs—to shield yourself from the intensity of his touch—surged within you, but the spreader bar kept you splayed wide open, a reminder of your helplessness.

“Please, please, please, Pierre,” you whispered, the words spilling from your lips like a breathless mantra. Each plea was laced with need, your voice trembling as you struggled to cling to some sense of control.

“Ah, there they are,” he breathed, voice dripping with mock satisfaction as though he’d stumbled upon a lost treasure. “There are your manners.” His thumb traced your folds, dipping ever so slightly in your cunt before sliding out and nudging your swollen clit.

The way he looked at you—half-chiding, half-amused—made your pulse quicken. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he continued, “beg for me.”

His fingers worked against your pussy, spreading your folds while bringing his other hand down to slap your exposed clit. You cried out loud, his name falling from your lips over and over again, the sound a desperate plea for more.

You squirmed on the bed, the soft sheets beneath you contrasting sharply with the heated intensity of his hands. Each deliberate stroke of his thumb circling your clit sent spirals of ecstasy racing through you, drawing out breathy whimpers that filled the air. His lips curved into a smug smirk, clearly reveling in your response as he maintained his hold on the spreader bar with his other hand, effectively pinning you in place.

“Need your fingers,” you managed to mumble between your moans. “Please, Pierre.”

He chuckled softly at your pleading words, a wicked glint in his eyes that made your heart race. “Are you sure you want my fingers? Or do you want my cock?” he taunted, his fingers slowing for a moment, building the tension between you. You writhed against the bed, the desire pooling low in your belly, urging him to continue.

Your eyes widened, and a desperate string of pleas left your lips, asking for his cock.

With a knowing smirk, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you longing for the sensation you had just experienced. He unbuttoned his pants with deliberate slowness, his gaze locked onto yours, savoring the anticipation that hung in the air between you. Each movement seemed to amplify your need, the tension coiling tighter in your belly as you watched him.

As he pushed his pants down, revealing the hard evidence of his desire, he maintained his hold on the spreader bar. The metal gleamed in the dim light, keeping your legs wide open, utterly exposed to him. This position only heightened your vulnerability and eagerness, a thrill coursing through you as you felt the cool air against your heated skin.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a low growl filled with hunger. “So eager, so ready for me.” You could barely contain the shiver that ran down your spine at his words, your body aching for him.

With one hand gripping the bar, he leaned on the bed, his desire evident in his eyes. As he positioned himself at your entrance, the world around you faded, and all you could focus on was the anticipation of what was to come.

He thrusts into you, allowing you to take him inch by inch, each moment stretched to savor the fullness. You could feel every ridge and contour as he filled you completely, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure racing through your body.

Holding the spreader bar high, he kept your legs spread wide, your ankles resting against his shoulders. This position intensified your vulnerability, leaving you utterly exposed to him, and every thrust felt deeper, more intimate. The way he held you like this made your heart race, your body arching instinctively to meet his every movement.

“Just like that,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he leaned closer, his breath ghosting over your skin. Each thrust sent waves of ecstasy crashing over you, and you couldn’t help but let out breathy moans that filled the air around you.

“More,” you whimpered, your voice trembling with need. “Please, don’t stop.”

With a knowing grin, he brought his thumb down to your clit, rubbing tight circles that ignited an entirely new level of pleasure. The dual sensations of his thrusts and the friction on your sensitive bud sent shockwaves through you, leaving you gasping. Your body responded instinctively, arching towards him, craving more as he skillfully kept the rhythm.

As your legs rested against his body, he delivered sharp slaps to your inner thighs, each one sending a jolt of arousal straight to your core. The mix of pleasure and pain kept you teetering on the brink, every hit leaving you more breathless, more desperate for him.

When his hand finally returned to your clit, rubbing faster and harder, the pleasure surged within you like a tidal wave, building in intensity with each stroke. Your breath hitched as the world around you faded, leaving only the two of you, the bed, and the intoxicating sensations he was creating.

As he continued to push you toward ecstasy, he delivered a firm slap to your clit, the sudden burst of sensation causing you to gasp sharply. That one deliberate action sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting every nerve ending as you felt the heat pooling low in your belly. It was a thrilling combination of pleasure and pain, driving you ever closer to the edge.

“Please…,” you managed to whimper, your voice barely above a whisper, pleading for release as your body instinctively responded to his every move.

With a final thrust and a precise flick of his thumb against your sensitive clit, you felt the world around you shatter. The climax crashed over you with an intensity that left you gasping his name, the sound reverberating in the air between you. Your body shuddered uncontrollably, waves of pleasure radiating from the core of your being, and in that moment, you surrendered completely to the overwhelming pleasure he had drawn from you. Each pulse of bliss washed over you, leaving you breathless and entirely at his mercy.

As the aftershocks faded, you couldn’t help but hope the spreader bar would see more use in the future—and if it meant you had to misbehave to make that happen, then so be it.

Taglist: @chilling-seavey @cheer-bear-go-vroom @ggaslyp1 @nominsgirl @moll1701 @mrs-saturday @teamnovalak @sassy-chan @ruti26-11 @kennysimp101 @falling-feels-like-flying @laeblue @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bountychanti @savewaterdrinkvodka @cloud-55 @aarchiives @holylovercopsludge @black-fireproofs @lazydragonpeach @biancathecool @myownwritings @rebelatbay @ethereal0810 @leclercsluvs @01rrdbull @fallingforfalll2 @lilorose25 @laur2608

[velarisdusk]

Twisted Silk

Day 10: Bondage | Azriel x Reader word count: 1.2k author’s note: fr do not put me in a room with azriel he will get WORN OUT ✦ . Kinktober Masterlist . ✦

The shadows curled tighter around your wrists, holding them high above your head, their cool, silken touch a stark contrast to the heat simmering in your body.

You were splayed out beneath him, legs parted, Azriel’s shadows keeping you bound in place as they slithered over your skin. They moved with a life of their own, teasing, and yet unyielding. No matter how you squirmed or tugged, they held you fast, perfectly obedient to their master’s will.

A soft whimper escaped your lips, your body arching, but Azriel remained still, watching you with those piercing hazel eyes. He stood over you, bathed in the low light of the room, his wings casting dark shapes across the walls. He hadn’t touched you where you needed him to, not yet, and the frustration of it was almost unbearable. 

“Azriel,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need. 

His lips quirked into the faintest of smiles, a shadow of satisfaction flitting across his face. "Patience," he murmured, his voice a velvet rasp that sent shivers down your spine. The shadows tightened just slightly around your wrists in response to his command, a reminder of who was in control.

Your breath hitched as his hand finally grazed the inside of your thigh, the sensation a whisper against your sensitive skin. The ache between your legs had grown into a steady throb, but Azriel took his time, his touch agonizingly slow, deliberate, savoring every reaction he drew from you.

“Do you feel that?” His voice was low, a quiet rumble that seemed to vibrate through your very bones. His thumb brushed the inside of your thigh, just enough to make you gasp. “That’s what you get when you earn it.”

You bit your lip, stifling a groan as his shadows coiled more firmly around your hips, holding you down even as your body strained against them. Every nerve in your body was on fire, but he wouldn’t let you fall apart just yet. Azriel’s control was absolute, and you loved it as much as it drove you mad.

His wings rustled as he leaned down, his breath hot against your throat. "You're so needy tonight," he whispered, his teeth grazing the tender skin at your pulse. His shadows tightened, pulling your wrists taut above your head as if sensing your growing desperation.

“Please,” you managed, barely more than a breathless gasp.

But he only hummed, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, as he dragged this out for as long as possible. The shadows shifted over your skin, sliding along your body like a lover's caress, teasing, denying, heightening every sensation until the line between pleasure and torment blurred.

“Not yet,” Azriel murmured, voice like dark honey, as his hand finally cupped you where you ached for him most, but even then, it was only a fleeting touch, gone before you could do more than gasp.

Your body quivered beneath him, every inch of you aching for more, but the shadows held you in place, reminding you of your helplessness—and how much you craved it.

The shadows moved like tendrils of dark silk, coiling around your body, teasing with light touches that never lingered long enough. They dragged across your nipples, your hips, the insides of your thighs—but none of it was enough. Every brush of them left you breathless, straining, your pulse pounding in your ears. Azriel’s shadows knew exactly how to keep you on edge, and so did he.

He was still watching, a dark sentinel standing over you. His eyes gleamed with something possessive, something dangerous. The power he held over you was intoxicating.

“You think you’re ready for me to touch you?” His voice was low, teasing, but laced with control. He hadn’t so much as brushed your skin except for that fleeting graze between your thighs, leaving you raw with need.

“Yes," you gasped, almost a whine, your body arching up toward him in desperation, the shadows pulling you back down in a mockery of restraint.

He hummed again, pleased by your helplessness. His wings shifted behind him, a soft, leathery sound filling the stillness of the room, his presence looming over you like a storm waiting to break. "I don’t think you’re ready," he mused, one corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk, though his gaze never wavered from your trembling form.

You wanted to scream at him, to beg, but all that came out was a ragged exhale. You were at his mercy, and you both knew it.

His hand returned to your thigh, slowly, maddeningly slow, dragging up the inside of it. You whimpered, hips twitching in response, but the shadows wouldn’t let you move—Azriel wouldn’t let you move. He held all the control, his shadows wrapping you up tighter, pressing into your skin just enough to remind you of the power he wielded.

“Azriel, please," you begged, your voice breaking on the last word. It wasn’t enough to just feel his shadows anymore. You needed his touch—desperately.

He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, his body hovering just out of reach. "Is that all you have for me? A simple ‘please’?" His voice was a purr, dripping with amusement.

The shadows rippled over your skin again, tightening around your hips and thighs. They seemed to echo his teasing cruelty, holding you open, leaving you vulnerable while he watched you fall apart without even laying a finger on you.

A low, dark laugh escaped him, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’ll have to do better than that, love.”

Your chest heaved, a mixture of frustration and lust building into something molten inside you. Every inch of you was hyper-aware of his closeness, of the way his breath ghosted over your skin, of the cool skin of his hands that barely skimmed your body. But he was holding back, making you suffer in the most delicious way.

His fingers finally curled under your chin, lifting your face so you had no choice but to look into his eyes. They were molten, full of promises he hadn’t fulfilled yet. The heat in them sent another shiver racing through you, but his touch was still just a tease.

“Beg for it," Azriel commanded softly, his voice like a razor's edge.

Your throat was dry, but you obeyed, your voice trembling. "Please, Azriel. Touch me. I need it—I need you.”

His eyes darkened at your words, satisfaction flickering in them.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over yours for the briefest of moments.

And then, finally, his hand slid between your legs.

A gasp tore from your throat as his fingers brushed over your soaked core, the sensation a lightning bolt of relief and fresh desire. His shadows writhed around your body, holding you down as you bucked against his touch, every nerve singing with pleasure. The moment his fingers slipped beneath the thin fabric between you, you knew you were lost.

Azriel’s smirk deepened, his thumb circling with agonizing slowness, sending waves of pleasure through your body. “Is this what you wanted?” His voice was low, mocking, though his eyes gleamed with something darker—something primal.

You nodded, unable to speak through the rush of sensation that flooded your senses. His shadows tightened again, almost possessive, holding you down, keeping you at his mercy.

“Good,” he growled, his hand moving in deliberate, controlled strokes as you came undone beneath him.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist <3

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@scarsandallaz @julesvanslutta @sizzlingstarlightsky @fourthwing4ever

[cthulhus-curse]

What To Expect When You're Expecting

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 11,175

Warnings: Angst, Degradation, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Miscarriage, Other, Pregnancy, Reader has a Penis, Smut | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: Wanda’s pregnancy is a journey you’d never let her transverse by herself, so through every little moments of it, you are there by her side holding her hand whether good or bad moments ensue.

Wide, hazy green eyes flickered over the small stick beneath them. They tried to make sense of it, to find an explanation for it, among the others scattered in the room that shared similar results. Teeth grabbed her bottom, chapped lip in their grasp. They dug themselves deep enough to draw small bits of blood, but nothing was enough to avert her gaze away – away from the two lines that showed a positive result that other tests shared.

After her period had been late and a mysterious sickness overtook her each morning with a heightened sensitivity for certain smells, Wanda knew to rush to the store and buy enough pregnancy tests to get concise results. She waited patiently, and when they all came about with the similar conclusion, her giddiness soon turned to dread. Surely she hadn’t been careful, the point had always been for her to reach such a place after months of discussing it with you, and yet it was impossible to rid herself of the tight knot forming in her chest. Once again, she had to duck as she threw up, and the tears in her eyes were from both excitement and fear. 

“Honey, I’m home!”

Stuck in her trance, Wanda barely took in the words as you passed through the front door. She cleaned her mouth, and while standing gripping the bathroom sink, she couldn’t help but look up at herself. Her breathing was ragged, surely her sudden anxiety making the most of the situation. Previously she had been ready, even joyous, to find such a result, but when reality came about, Wanda nearly ran from the responsibility of it all. 

“Hey, where are you? You’re not gonna believe what happed to Jen at work. We were walking to get lunch and she tri- Wanda?” Your voice grew louder the closer you got. Soon enough you stood in the middle of your shared bedroom inside a seemingly empty house – apart from the light peeking from under the bathroom door that was. Frowning, you carefully stood before it and lightly knocked. “Wanda, are you in there?”

There came no response as Wanda grew lightheaded. She could feel her knees beginning to give out as her thoughts went blank, all except for that small twinge of insecurity that made its way across her mind. You’re not good enough, it said. And as she fell against the floor, her backside stinging, a feeling that mirrored the tears cascading down her face, Wanda believed it. 

“Baby? Is this…” You didn’t want to assume, but based on previous experiences, you posed the question. “Did you get your period? I can go get your heating pad and put on a sitcom while I run to the store and get you some chocolate. Oh, I can even make you those salted caramel banana pancakes you like and get you some meds for the pain.” All you received as a reply was a choke sob, and although it could be nothing, you wouldn’t dare take a chance. “Shit, that’s not good,” you mumbled before trying the door handle again. “Honey, I’m coming in!”

A mental note was made for you to remind yourself to repair the door after you used all your strength to crack it open. Hissing, you stared down at the broken lock, but alas, that was not your focus. Instead you went to Wanda’s aid, and as soon as you saw her sitting in the corner of the bathroom so disheveled and finding it difficult to catch her breath, you were on your knees before her.

Your hands clutched Wanda’s shaky ones. They squeezed tight to signify your appearance, to show your wife that she was there, that she was safe with you. Leaning in, you pressed your lips against her clammy forehead and left them there as you pulled her close to you. Even in her highly frightened state, she knew to throw herself onto you and allow herself to be comforted. 

“Shh you’re safe, sweetheart. You’re right here at home safe in my arms. See?” You accented your words by running your hand up and down her arm, and cupping her face, cleaning up tears, so she could feel you. “You’re safe, Wanda.”

Minutes passed until she could finally catch her breath. Wanda cried out loud, but the sounds were muffled by your chest as she nuzzled against. Ever since you had met her, she dealt with extreme bouts of anxiety that left her frozen. Quickly you learned to comfort her during those times, but it was rare for Wanda to exhibit such feelings after a long time of being fine.

She was still shaky and her sight seemed unfocused, but once she stopped crying, Wanda finally spoke. “I’m pregnant.” 

“Oh?” You frowned as your brain rummaged to take in the words and make sense of them. It had been months of non-stop work to get to that point, so as soon as you registered them, your eyes widened. “Oh!”

“They’re all…” Wanda exhaustively looked around the bathroom, nudging a pregnancy test with her hand to show you. “They’re all positive. I know this is what we’ve been trying for, but I’m scared. I can’t do this, Y/N?”

“How come? You’re the most capable and confident woman I know,” you mumbled as you brushed wild strands of red away from Wanda’s face. “You’ll be a great mother, Wanda. That little peanut would be lucky to have you as a mom, if that’s what you still want.”

Wanda knew it to be true, and although she would always have the option to not go through with the pregnancy, the thought of having a small kid running around the house made her smile before her thoughts turned sour. “But what if something happens to me or you like it happened to…them?” 

The crash had occurred during your childhood. You knew Wanda then, and as soon as you heard of your parents getting into an accident, your blood turned cold. You were only kids during that time. Back then you didn’t stop crying whenever the slightest mention of your parents came about, and it was up to both Wanda and Pietro, their family as well, to comfort the lonely orphan they left behind. Although you didn’t dare bring up your parents much, it surely had been something you gave thought you when trying for a child. 

“That’s not going to happen, honey. I promise,” you reassured her. “Plus, I’d do anything to keep you safe. I won’t let anything happen to you or to myself, okay? Not under my watch.”

“Thank you,” Wanda stuttered out weakly. “I, uhm, I know I’m showing the exact opposite, but I’m really happy right now.”

There was nothing for you to feel, but as you dragged a hand to Wanda’s stomach, one of her own subsequently flying to yours, your heart skipped a beat. “Me too, baby.”

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

During the first trimester you were focused entirely on educating yourself about the baby on the way. Wanda had gone to see Dr. Harkness, a friend of hers at that, who only gave more certainty to the pregnancy. She hissed the first time the gel was squirted onto her belly as a wand soon came to pass over it. The six weeks mark passed, and an entire month after you two had found out was finally met. 

“Well that’s definitely a fetus in there,” Agatha hummed as she stared at the screen. She left the wand unmoving, turning to a laying Wanda for you and her to see the screen. There was barely anything there but a small circle she deemed as the baby. “Everything looks fine. The little bugger is about the size of a sweet pea right about now. You see that blob right there?” Agatha pointed at the circle. “That’s your baby.” 

“Our baby,” Wanda repeated with adoration. She clung to your hand and stared up at you with glowing eyes that drifted down to her abdomen. “Can you believe it, honey? That’s our kid.”

“That’s a pretty cool blob,” you settled for laughing at the sight of it, which only earned you a light slap for your wife. “But yeah, that’s our sweet pea.” 

“Sweet peas,” Agatha casually corrected. 

The room went silent as she uttered her words and kept staring at the screen that showed off a second blob. You and Wanda stared at it, then at each other, all before returning to the screen. Surely the idea of having a child was solidified in your minds and you were ready for what was to come, but never did you expect to find out you were having two at once. 

“Come again?” You sputtered with fear. “Sweet peas?” 

“It looks like you’re having twins. It should show up better during your next ultrasound, but from what I can see, those are two fetuses growing in there,” Agatha said with the utmost calmness. “Thank god I only got stuck with one. Between Kate and the newborn, I have been stuck taking care of two kids as it is.”

Neither nor Wanda were awaiting to find out you were having twins. As you found out, the rest of the appointment went quiet. Even when you scheduled the follow-up, Wanda squeezed your hand for dear life and nodded dumbly when the dates were given to her. You waltzed to the car in a haze, and as soon as you entered, Wanda didn’t care to start the car.

“Twins,” was all she said in defeat.

Gulping, you nodded with a blank stare. “Yup, twins.” 

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

While keeping up with her changing hormones, you were always there by Wanda’s side. Whether it was to hold her hair up as she puked or even ridding yourself of smells that made her nauseated, you were unable to leave her as it was. She needed you the same way you needed her. Especially in her state, you refused to leave her alone. 

So it was a no-brainer when you met Wanda’s urges…all of them. 

“How do I look? I feel a bit stupid,” Wanda grumbled as she stood by the door frame exiting the bathroom. She gazed down at her body and cringed slightly. Her breasts had already increased in size slightly, something she knew had your mouth watering in secrecy. Surely she’d be excited for such a feat if it wasn’t for the soreness she felt upon them. Sighing, she watched as they were clothed in frilly fabric before eyeing the skirt that barely covered her thighs. “Don’t you think it’s…too much? I know we’ve done more before, but I don’t think I look great.”

You knew Wanda was talking to you, but you were unable to register the words as your eyes nearly boggled out of your head. Regardless of her insecurities, you settled then that she was absolutely glorious while wearing the outfit you got her. It was one that mirrored that of a maid with a little band over her head and even thigh-high socks to match. Surely when you bought it Wanda hadn’t been pregnant, but it made her appear more delicious as her body begged to break free from the tight dress. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” you grunted. With a mind of its own, all nude sitting at the edge of the bed, your cock twitched. You gulped down with embarrassment, but the flush over your cheeks was enough to help Wanda relax with amusement. “I, uhm, I really like it.”

Raising her eyebrows, Wanda scoffed. “Yeah? Perv.”

“You’re the one that agreed to it!” You exasperated back as Wanda made her way towards you, her hips swaying even more than usual as her breasts threatened to spill out of the confines of the dress. “I didn’t mind if you picked out the cow outfit, the princess one, or even the cat ears.”

“A cow?” She stood before you with arms crossed. Her gaze averted itself to the harness between your legs. “But I wouldn’t be the one getting milked, sweetheart. Shouldn’t you be my little cow?”

“Not when you’re my whore of a maid,” you confidently said, but immediately regretted your words. “Sorry, was that too much? I know you said you’d like it but I don’t know how to be mean to you. Guess I just love you a lot.”

The head tilt she gave you was a trademark move of her. “If you love me then you should treat me like a whore, baby. We can take it slow if you’d like. Hm, maybe do a little bit more roleplaying. Wouldn’t you like that, master?”

Wanda’s hand grazed your hard cock, and for a moment time stopped. No matter how many years you had spent by each other’s sides, you still melted as you did the first time she touched you. There was no denying your adoration for her. Wanda was everything you wanted and more. The simplest movement caused you to moan and throw your head back, while she smiled watching you intently. 

“R-roleplaying?” 

“That’s right. Lay back for me, honey,” she pushed you onto the bed before taking her rightful place on top of you. “Today is all about me cleaning up the mess I caused. I made you this hard and sticky, huh?” Wanda questioned in awe as she gripped your dick. “Maybe some other time you can film us while fucking me. We can pretend I love posting videos online and slutting myself out for the world to see, and you’re the little pervert that makes me. Fuck, I want you in control so bad. As much as I love making you squirm, I just need you to blow off all your steam on me while I…” she leaned in dangerously close. “Blow something else.”

“Oh my god,” you whined as you felt the tip of your member being brushed against Wanda’s slick, throbbing center. Her words made your skin burn bright red while she lit it aflame. It was impossible to resist her, but even more so in her pregnant state that made her glow further. “I- just wait a second.”

Wanda knitted her eyebrows together as you hastily reached out to the nightstand. She was even more confused when you retrieved a small packet. Knowing what it was fueled her innocence. Watching you tear it open was just the last straw she needed to break out. 

“Wha- what are you doing?”

You shrugged, sharing a similar amount of doubt with her. “I’m…putting on a condom?”

“Why? You can’t get me more pregnant than I already am,” her laughter made you feel embarrassed, but you knew she had a point. 

“Well, I just thought it would be safer to-”

“Y/N, you have about five seconds to put yourself inside of me before I make you,” Wanda grumbled. Her hand reached out for the condom you tried to tear open, only to grab it and throw it over her head. Neither cared where it landed. Not when she slowly pulled herself away from you and teased her way out. “Five, four, three, two…”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

Your hardened length was grabbed and lied up against her gaping hole. Pulling up her skirt, you were met with the glorious sight of her shaven pussy. It made it easy to see her juices running down her inner thighs and hear the sloshing sounds of her pussy as you rubbed against it. With a nod from Wanda, you very slowly pushed your way inside, almost erupting immediately as you clung to her hips for support. 

“There you go,” Wanda whimpered with feigned confidence. “Oh f- fuck baby!”

No matter how many times Wanda had you inside her, she simply couldn’t grow tired of it. Her velvety walls clung to your cock for dear life. They welcomed you with a tight hug that made it impossible for her to descend further on you. It was then up to you to hold her in place and gently push yourself to her depths. 

“Is that good?” You knew she wanted more, so you gave it to her. Even if your bottom lip was gnawed by your teeth, you wanted your wife to enjoy herself. “You fucking slut.”

“Your slut,” Wanda echoed with a sudden thrill dripping from her voice. “I love it so much, master. You spoil me, always making me feel so good.”

“Well, it’s your job to clean this mess up,” you explained as you found a steady rhythm. Your eyes were glued to her pussy where your cock was deeply nestled inside. It wasn’t hard to see how you disappeared inside Wanda, feeling as your balls slapped against her skin letting out a mouth-watering sound. “I don’t give a fuck about how it makes you feel. You’re my property, meaning you should be focused on making your master feel better. You wouldn’t want me to find a better maid to help me out with my not-so-little problem, would you?”

“No!” 

The two of you always discussed the scenes previously. Wanda held your hand as she told you exactly what you wanted. Although she knew you were apprehensive about potentially hurting her feelings, she promised it would do the exact opposite. Being made to feel like nothing turned her on to no end. As an alternative she said you could use a paddle on her, one that you used only a handful of times. Surely hurting her made you feel aroused as well, but with her being pregnant you hesitated to be too much. 

When she was on top of you bouncing like the perfect maid, all those thoughts subsided. She swallowed your dick as though it was meant to be. You were her owner, and Wanda, as she begged to be, was your dumb property. Grabbing the neckline of her dress, one that barely covered her breasts, you strongly tugged at it. 

Her tits poured out of the torn fabric making you even more motivated to ram her. Your hands curiously grabbed both of them, ensuring to squeeze them tenderly so as to not hurt your lover who pushed them closer to you. Rosy erect nipples were swirled before being pinched enough to draw a scream from the depths of Wanda’s throat. You loved hearing her, but more so if the entire neighborhood was well-aware of how you took her. 

“Fuckin’ bitch,” you grunted. The deeper you went, the closer you got to your tip pressing against her sweetest spongy spot that always made her cum when repeatedly stimulated. “You like that? I bet you do. You’re nothing but a stupid cumrag for me to use. A fleshlight can do the same fucking thing you can, but you can’t shut up, huh? Go on, show the neighbors just how good your master fucks you. I bet they all know by now what a dumb cumrag of a maid you are by now.”

Never had you gone so far with your degrading verbiage. Most of the time you kept to sweet praises. Seeing Wanda smile beneath you as you worshiped her body was enough. You didn’t even need release, but instead to spoil your partner as she wished. Now that she had many different thoughts about what could be done to her, you’d humor her ideas until the end of time. 

“Baby I’m so fucking close,” Wanda broke out of character for only a few seconds, but you wouldn’t fault her for that. She desperately jumped up and down your dick as she begged you to ruin her for anyone else. From the dress that was tugged up, you could practically see the outline of your penis even through her appetizing stomach rolls you’d often kiss before eating her out. “Ah! Y/N!”

Using all your strength, you made quick work to flip her over so she’d be laying on her back while you rammed her from above. Wanda hugged you close, and as drunk in lust as she was, she still found time to giggle when your face buried itself between her tits. That sound immediately died in her lips when you gave her something to cry out about. 

The moment Wanda came, you did so as well. Her pussy was unbelievably tight and it gripped you with an immense force you simply couldn’t get anywhere else – not even with the beloved fleshlights she’d gotten you. Your balls hit her skin as you were close enough to merely ghost in the slightest bit at her swollen clit. 

As Wanda rode out her orgasm, you stuffed her to the brim with your own seed. You didn’t remember the last time you came so much. Still, it was nothing compared to the desperation you had felt on the night you conceived after a rather wild time at her friend’s birthday party when you returned home to claw at one another. The woman had begged you for months to fill her up “nice and good” as she said, and although you had been successful in your chore, you simply couldn’t shake that feeling away. 

Even when the two of you were spent, your tongue stuck out and licking at her sore breasts and nipples, you were still balls-deep inside of her. “That was…fuck.” It was impossible to find the proper words to describe such achieved pleasures. “It was amazing.”

Wanda allowed you to nuzzle your face and almost suffocate yourself on the valley of her breasts. “You really outdid yourself, master,” she chuckled. “But I do think it’s time for me to do a better job at cleaning, with my mouth at that, sweetheart.” 

That night neither of you found the strength to do anything else but devour one another. Wanda’s hormones grew, but so did you desire for her. Even later in the shower you were unable to keep your hands off her in your exhausted state, eventually falling asleep hugging her tightly. With her by your side, it was a wonder how you got anything done. 

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

“You know, I’ve been doing some reading…”

Although more words were spoken, you simply couldn’t help but involuntarily ignore them. There came enough stress once the first trimester was out of the way. The monthly appointments with Wanda’s doctor helped relieve some of it. Agatha was kind enough to reassure you two that although pregnancy with twins was not a walk in the park, that you’d do well. But alas, that did not soothe the anxieties you felt over telling her parents. During the beginning of the second trimester Wanda decided to tell them, and she wanted you to be there for it. 

Oleg and Irina weren’t bad people whatsoever. During your childhood once your parents passed, they were the ones who were always there by your side when your grandparents took you in. If anything were the surrogates of what you lost in the beginning, guardians who’d ensure you’d never be harmed. Even when you and Wanda became open about your relationship, nothing changed. They still loved you, and yet you sought out their approval enough to fear anything other than that. 

“...and then Peggy actually ate her placenta. She told me all about it while I was eating lunch and I’ve never felt sicker. Apparently it tastes really good, but I wouldn’t be able to do it,” Wanda carried on. It was only the end that you barely listened to, and were far too confused to ask her to explain herself again. “I can’t imagine walking out of the hospital with your placenta in a bag. Do you think they drain the blood? I mean, I assume you do. Does it count as meant or…Y/N? Are you listening to me, honey?”

“Yeah, that’s awesome. Sounds great,” you absentmindedly replied. Your eyes were on the clock stuck to the wall counting down the minutes until her family arrived as you did your best to add the finishing details to the meal you had cooked together – meaning only you did the work while Wanda stood back and attempted not to puke at all the strong smells.

“So you want to eat my placentas?” Wanda asked with raised eyebrows. That made you turn to her with bewilderment-stricken features. Waltzing towards you, Wanda pressed her front against your back. Her chin rested on your shoulder with arms that quickly wrapped themselves around you. “What’s wrong, baby? You’re so tense.”

“I’m so scared to tell your parents,” you shuddered. “What if your mom thinks I’m no good for you? Or if your dad doesn’t want me seeing you any longer?”

“Sweetheart, we’re not high schoolers anymore. My dad walked me down the aisle on our wedding day and gave me off to you. I don’t think he’s going to try to get us divorced,” Wanda chuckled against your ear. “Besides, he’ll miss his bowling buddy. You know what happened the last time he tried replacing you with Pietro when we were on our honeymoon.”

The clear image of the picture Irina had sent you and Wanda of that night still made you laugh. Pietro had been smart enough to throw, not slide, the bowling ball hard enough that it went to another lane and proceeded to smash itself against the bar covering the pins. Oleg would never let his son live it down and reassured his son it was best to stick to his career as a football player than anything else, something which Pietro agreed with. They all loved you, you knew that much, and when you took Wanda’s last name, becoming a Maximoff yourself, you turned into one of the family. 

“Don’t overwhelm yourself, my love,” she reassured you lovingly with a peck on the cheek. “They love you so much, and so do I. I bet they’ll be so excited to know we got two little peanuts on the way. Now, let me finish this up and go get ready. They’ll be here any second. 

Surely enough as soon as you descended the stairs and made your way into the dining room, Wanda’s family already sat there. Your wife had been kind enough to put out the food she finished cooking. Waving at her parents and her brother, you attempted to dim down your anxious thoughts as you pulled out Wanda’s seat, allowed her to sit, and then did the same for your own. 

Towards the beginning you were a frozen mess. You couldn’t stop thinking of the worst-case scenario. Rationality was thrown out the window as within your peripheral view you could take sight of the tiniest sign of Wanda’s bump showing. Gulping down the knot forming on your throat, you began bouncing your leg. 

“So, what was so important that you just couldn’t tell us over the phone?” Pietro questioned as he immediately dug into his paprikash chicken. “You know, I had to miss practice just to travel down from the city. You better be pregnant or something.”

As soon as he finished speaking, you were chugging down a whole bunch of water. Rather than spit it all out, you swallowed with wide, fearful eyes, only sputtering out tiny drops as you hid your face away in embarrassment. Wanda did her best to keep her smile suppressed, but it was impossible to do so as your torture was her amusement. 

“Actually…” she reached out for your clammy hand and squeezed it. “I am pregnant, twelve weeks!”

“Twelve? And you’re only telling us now?” Oleg sounded hurt, but it was nothing compared to Irina’s beam of excitement. If Pietro wouldn’t give her grandchildren, she trusted her daughter would. “You’re almost halfway there by now! How did this happen?”

At that your eyebrows were furrowed, but you decided to answer his bizarre question nonetheless. “Well, sir, when two people love each other they-”

Wanda wasted no time in slapping your arm hard enough to nearly make Pietro choke on his food out of the hilarity of it all. Her parents frowned, but all your wife did was flash them a smile as her hand dropped to your lap. The last thing she wanted was for you to dread having experienced such humiliation even more. 

“Sorry, papa. Y/N and I really wanted to tell you, but I got scared. It’s so new to us and we wanted to make sure nothing would…happen.” Her voice was shaky, and you knew exactly what she referenced. It wasn’t the first time you had gotten the news of her pregnancy. Back then the two of you had been fresh out of high school, just two dumb kids going about life without precaution. Both were scared yet thrilled at the idea of having a child as you went to college, but that only lasted for a few months up until Wanda was awoken by a searing pain and a pool of blood gushing down her legs. It was the worst year of your shared lives, and from then on you made sure to not only protect her body, but also her mind and heart. “We wanted to be sure, that’s all.”

He wasn’t upset, but Wanda knew her father loved being involved in her life. They sat in silence for a second awaiting his reply only for Oleg to show off his excitement. He congratulated the two of you, making sure to run to the other side of the table to wrap his daughter up in a hug. Just as they had cherished you as a child, they’d do the same to the twins on the way. 

The remainder of dinner went by smoothly, but just as you began relaxing, Wanda made you tense more. Her dominant hand moved around your lap until it eventually went to cup your soft penis through your pants. It rubbed you up and down, gripping only slightly as you let out a stifled grunt. And yet your wife was unfazed, smiling even as she used her free hand to take a sip of her water. 

“Doesn’t that make you feel better?” Wanda allowed herself to lean onto you far enough so her whispers were unheard by the others. “All you need is some…released. If you behave for the rest of dinner,” her eyes looked down at your growing bulge where a small pool of wetness began forming through your briefs and slacks. Slapping you gently, she hummed. “Then maybe I’ll give you what you want. You can even take me from behind just how you like it, baby. I’ll be a good girl only if you are good as well. Remember that.”

You couldn’t stop counting down the minutes until Wanda’s family left, and as soon as they did, you were pleased with what she had to offer you. While insatiable, your wife loved putting your needs above her own. After all, getting on her knees and looking up at you as she pleased you was one of her favorite things.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Around week 16, according to the calendar you set up on your cubicle at work, Wanda began showing even more. Her flat stomach was adorably swollen. Often she’d stare into the mirror and grimace at what she saw after stepping out of the shower, but you bore holes into her body with your insistent stares. Maybe she didn’t believe it, but the further into her pregnancy Wanda got, the more you lusted after her. 

When she was at work and you were left to go into your shifts from home, thankful to be part of the IT department at a law firm, you took care of yourself. Your growing appetite for Wanda made it impossible for her to keep up with you, you mused. So instead you settled on doing what she did for you, although it never did feel the same. 

Sitting with your back pressed against the headboard, you groaned. You had poured enough lubricant onto your cock to get it all nice and shiny before doing the same with a clear fleshlight. Wanda was an avid lover of it. She’d watch in awe, sometimes even move it herself, as your cock was enveloped by the sweet material. It was impossible for her to not grow incredibly wet at the sight. 

“Fuck,” you mumbled into the nothingness of the room. Your laptop was open right on the bed with the program from work ready in case you needed to watch over it further. It didn’t faze you though. You still guided your thick, hard cock to one of the openings of the fleshlight and lined yourself up perfectly.

The warmth that enveloped your dick was nowhere near as delicious as it was when Wanda was around, but it would have to do. You took your time with her, but not when you were alone. Rather than care about how much pain you exerted on the toy, as you’d do with your wife, you let yourself go. 

Animalistic thrusts came about as you focused solely on jacking off. It felt so good to be rough and uncarity. With one hand you held the fleshlight in place while the other went down to carefully massage your balls, prodding them with adoration as you imagined it was Wanda touching you. 

Fucking the fleshlight, you longed for it to be Wanda’s pussy. She was always so drenched and ready for you, making it easier to slip inside without any issues. Getting her pregnant was just the tip of the iceberg. It was what made all of your desires spill out of Pandora’s Box. Every single sick, perverted thought you had, you humored. And knowing your partner, you knew she’d happily indulge you without a question asked. 

Deciding to tease your wife, you reached out for your phone. The camera was pointed at the toy where your dick disappeared into, and as you got it on video, you smiled. Wanda loved nothing more than to watch you masturbate. At times she simply sat back to look at how you made yourself come undone. You’d be desperate yet confident in your thrust as she knew you pretended to be fucking her. 

“Fuck, baby. I miss your pussy,” you let out a guttural moan from Wanda to enjoy. The wet, sloshing sound of the fleshlight being masterfully fucked was all she’d hear. “This is how I’m fucking you as soon as you get home. I bet your pussy’s gonna be so wet and ready for me. ‘M gonna get you to beg for this cock, slut.”

For the past few weeks the two of you further explored Wanda’s insistent desire to be degraded. Not only did she want such vile words to be spewed her way, but also to be treated as though she was nothing more than a toy for your amusement. You could claim her whenever you saw fit. While you loved the idea, it would take a lot more coaxing from her part to make it happen. 

Sending off the short video, you kept up the slapping sounds even when you got the receipt that Wanda saw it. You could already imagine how she’d excuse herself from her cubicle and run off to the bathroom in a haze. Her mind always felt too cloudy when she was turned on, and once she came it all turned blank. 

In only a matter of minutes, you received back an image of her wetness through her panties with a caption reading “for you, my favorite perv.” Two could play that game, you thought after having saved the image – Wanda knew full well you stared at the little folder of herself that you had in the depths of your phone. You each sent the other numerous pictures and videos, with Wanda showing you exactly how drenched she was at the thought of you, and how heavy her breasts appeared. It was the sight of that alongside her swollen tummy that made you cum all over your own stomach, her name coming out choked from your lips. 

“Can’t wait to see what you have planned for me at home,” Wanda texted as she saw the image of the cumshot you sent her. “I’ll be ready for you, Y/N.”

And as much as you hated to admit it, a sole text like that made you fully hard once more. 

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

“Baby, I’m hungry!”

You mused that was your Bat-signal as it made you instantly rush to Wanda’s side. For the past few weeks after her ultrasound, where she was able to receive a much clear picture of the twin babies growing inside of her, she’d been rather…glued to the couch. Her feet were sore along with her back, and although Pietro constantly wondered why his sister refused to visit him in the city with a huff, you couldn’t imagine the amount of discomfort she felt with not one, but two lives forming within her.

“What do you wanna eat for lunch, pretty girl?” You asked as you took a seat next to the couch that you might as well call Wanda’s. She lay watching yet yet another rerun of Superstore, giggling away as she remembered the time the two of you shared as teenagers working at a rather large chain retail store. “I can make you some mac & cheese or even order a pizza and-”

“I’m really hungry,” Wanda interjected, nudging you a bit with her leg. “Burger-type of hungry…with fries.”

“I’ll go get you a burger right now then. Anything else you’d like since I’ll be out?”

Wanda gave it some thought, and after enough time she settled for texting you a list of things to pick up from the grocery store. Lazy weekends were her favorite. During the week she attempted to keep busy by doing yoga in the morning or pulling you out of bed to run across the neighborhood, shower, then go to work. Your wife said she wished to be active, but deep down you knew it had something to do with her changing appearance. No longer was she as slim as she used to be with the bigger her bump grew. While she found problems with that, each day you reassured Wanda without fail that her beauty never left. 

Knowing Wanda’s appetite would only evolve for the worst. You ran across the grocery store and zoomed by her favorite fast food restaurant to pick up her food, getting something for yourself as well as you knew your own hunger would give you a headache. Each time you went out without her, you felt a newfound fear stirring the pot. Surely she’d be safe and fine, and yet you couldn’t help but think kf the worst. What if the twins didn’t make it? Or Wanda at that? You wouldn’t know how to properly function if either were to happen. 

You had already lost a little peanut once. Although she hid it well, you were fully aware of the ultrasound picture Wanda hid underneath the pillow on her side of the bed. The back of it had excited scribbles from the both of you. Back then life was anything but great, and yet that surprise had made you realize it was worth living it together. She carried that picture everywhere, even to work, but once she received the news, Wanda didn’t dare let it leave the safety of her home.

The torturous image of Wanda shaking you awake desperately, tears in her bloodshot eyes that cascaded down furious cheeks, covered in blood still haunted you at night. She let out incoherent babbles then as you turned on the light and took sight of the mess on the bed. The pain she felt had been constant for days along with the bleeding, but it never got as intense as it did on that cruel night of May 14. You ran with Wanda to the hospital, her hands clutching a small bunny your friend Peter had given you when he found out about the pregnancy. Neither of you were the same after that, nor did you care to be. 

Clutching your steering wheel, you blinked rapidly. The flashbacks hit like a brick as you made your way back home. You could already feel your chest beginning to tighten, and while uncaring about any traffic laws, you sped towards Wanda. 

Upon arriving at the house, you hastily gathered all the bags before running to the door. They were thrown over the floor, alerting a rather groggy Wanda who had fallen asleep on the couch. She sat up slightly with half-open eyes and furrowed eyebrows wondering why you rushed to her, but as soon as she noticed the tears in your eyes, she was on alert. 

“Baby? Oh honey what happened?” Wanda was taken aback when she sat up at the edge of the couch only for you to kneel before her. She simply lay a hand atop your head, tilting her own as you hugged her tightly with your face buried against her belly. “Hey, you’re alright, Y/N. I’m right here.” You barely nodded, something that made her smile sadly because at least you could understand her. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I need them to make it,” you choked out with your forehead pressed with Wanda’s bump. “I…I need it to happen.”

That only confused Wanda even more. “Who needs to make it?” But realization dawned upon her instantly. “Wh- oh.”

Your shaky hands took hold of her stomach that you pressed countless kisses against. “I miss our little girl — our Magnolia.”

By the time she was gone, neither of you picked a name until it was too late. It was Wanda who settled on it while remembering through tears that when you were children, that was the first ever flower you gave her. Each year on the anniversary, on what would’ve been her birthday, you made sure to give your wife another one. Those were the ones she wore on her head on your wedding day. Whether physically or not, your forever little peanut would always be there with you.

“I miss her too,” Wanda admitted solemnly. She always wanted a little girl, someone who mirrored her in every way. You and her would lay watching the sunset imagining how your futures would turn out. Wanda was rather excited about the concept of braiding the girl’s hair for her first day of school that you’d drive her to together, but it never came. “But our boys are healthy, they’ll make it. T-they be safe, honey. They have to be.”

As teary-eyed as you were, you couldn’t help but stop to question her. “Our…boys?”

“Don’t be mad. Agatha called a few days ago and I told her you’d want it to be a surprise, but that I couldn’t wait. I’ve been eyeing some things for them too,” Wanda shrugged. She leaned down far enough to be able to place a kiss on your forehead before cupping your face. “We’re having twin boys.”

“That’s amazing!” You exasperated with sudden joy. Your hands went to touch her stomach, overzealous at the idea of having boys, but then again, you never did hope for one or the other. As you rubbed your hands all over her clothes skin, that is when you first felt it. “Was that…a kick?” 

Wanda was unfazed as she had felt it before during her previous attempt, but still giggled. “I think the little buggers can tell mama is hungry and so are they. As much as I’d love to sit here and have a heart-to-heart with you, baby, I really am starving over here.”

You went to give Wanda her food, and while the two of you sat on the couch eating your lunch, you realized once more how lucky you were to have her by your side until death do you apart. 

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Early during Wanda’s third trimester, you were even more in need of her; it surely didn’t help that she got bigger and liquid sprouted from her breasts. You didn’t say much, instead opting to remain quiet and keep your perversions to yourself out of fear of being judged. Your wife was fairly open to whatever you wished to explore, but you doubted she’d be keen to the idea of you suckling from her tender nipples. 

From afar you watch her fall into the pits of pain. At times she’d beg you to help her gently massage herself, throwing her head back in relief as the harshness of the built-up milt in her tits was gone. Each time they grew heavy, you were to offer helping hands and allow your partner to feel better. Only your guilt and shame grew during those moments. You stared in depth at the mounts, watching in awe as liquid traveled down their bulkiness before Wanda went to clean herself up. Agatha reassured the two of you that it was normal, but that didn’t deter her suffering during those moments. 

“Between the kicking and the soreness, I don’t think I can make it,” Wanda hissed on a particular day where her breasts made it impossible for her to carry on. She had come back from work complaining about the pain she was in, instantly laying across the couch rubbing her hands against her stomach. “You know I love my boys, I really do, but I’m pretty sure at this point Tommy will be a football player just like his uncle,” her face scrunched up momentarily as she clutched her bump. “And Billy thinks he can kick his way out of this earlier than he’s supposed to.”

“Is there anything I can do?” You felt for her, you really did. The sole image of her facing such horrors made you shudder. You couldn’t imagine having to experience that, so as you set a hand atop Wanda’s swollen tummy, you hoped the twins would settle down for once. “I can get your heating pad or maybe make you some comfort food? Anything I should go out to get you?”

“Just stay with me, please,” Wanda cried as she put her hand above yours. “I don’t even want to imagine how horrible it’ll be when I popped these little shits out.” As soon as she spit out the words, a kick came. “Fuck, sorry boys. You’re not little shits,” she went to mumble under her breath. “Sometimes.”

“Just a few more months, honey. You’re more than halfway there,” you cooed at her. Leaning in, you pulled her shirt only slightly to be able to press your lips upon her skin. “Our peanuts will be here soon. Our Billy and our Tommy.”

“You’re lucky we’re having twins, otherwise I wouldn’t have let you name our kid Billy,” Wanda grumbled with feigned annoyance. It quickly turned into a moan as she arched her back and her hands shot up to her chest that almost throbbed. “Fuck, I’m full. I need them to get out and help me out because otherwise I’m going to start t-”

“What if I help you?”

Wanda frowned at that, wondering what else you could provide other than the glorious massages you were so kind to give her. “Honey, you’ve already helped me enough. There’s nothing you can do unless you’re willing to suck all the milk out of me.”

She meant it as a joke, but the words made your throat dry up. You couldn’t help the burning sensation that settled at your cheeks. A shrug came out before your voice was found. “Maybe…maybe I can? If you’re alright with it,” you choked out while refusing to look at Wanda. “It’s embarrassing, but that’s all I’ve been thinking about as of late. God, Wanda, you’re so fucking gorgeous that I…I can’t contain myself.”

“You’ve gotten off to the thought.”

At the confidence in her words you turned to her ready to form a lie. “I, uhm, haven’t.”

“No, no. That wasn’t a question, honey.” A dry laughter came out, one that allowed you to properly relax as you were consumed by anxious imagery. “I know you do. Honestly? I’ve been dying for you to finally come clean. It was about time, darling. Mommy doesn’t like when you make her wait.”

“Mo- what?” you frowned, confused as to whether or not she found it to be humorous. “You’re not creeped out?”

“Of course not. You’re just a little baby that wants mommy’s milk, huh? A hungry angel,” her voice was sweet and serene. You easily got lost in the devotion you had for her. “Come here, Y/N. I know you’ve been dying to try. So be a good pup and help mommy feel good.”

With shaky hands, you helped Wanda shed her shirt. The knot at your throat wasn’t easily dissuaded, especially not when she stared at you with amused eyes. She guided you on top of her, carefully getting you to lay on your side so you wouldn’t harm her stomach. With lips merely grazing at one of the swollen nipples, you licked your lips and looked up in question at the woman before she nodded your way. 

As soon as you latched onto her, your mind went blank. Lips tenderly suckled at the rosy bud before white liquid began descending into your mouth. Your tongue welcomed it, tasting every slight drop as you grunted with need. Wanda tasted amazing in every way imaginable and you simply were unable to get enough of her. 

“There’s a good pet,” Wanda tried, but she couldn’t churn away her own arousal. Her arms were wrapped around you the same way yours embraced her. On her thigh she already felt a tent, growing by the second, poking at her with desperation. “Keep going, baby. You’re already making me feel so good.”

Her hand drifted down to the area between your legs with fake innocence, and yet you couldn’t muster any case for it. Instead, you nuzzled your face against Wanda’s breasts still continuing to suck on one. The other, out of fear of leaving it unattended, was massaged. Your thumb swirled around it, making faint drops of milk spew out that you brushed with your finger before bringing it to your mouth. 

Kneading her one of her tits made her moan, but you were the one to do so louder as Wanda slipped into your pants. “Help me,” you begged as digits trailed their way along your thick hardened shaft before finding the wetness your pre-cum left. “Please, m-mommy. I need it so bad.”

“Yeah? Oh honey, your dick is all hard and sticky,” Wanda pouted as she jerked you off momentarily. She pressed her lips against your forehead, planting butterfly kisses there as she made quick work to tease your already-throbbing member that you humped against her. “Be a good puppy and drink up all of mommy’s milk. Then maybe we can talk about me milking you instead.”

For the remainder of the night, you didn’t hesitate to do exactly what she said. It ended up being a rather fruitful evening, leaving you full of Wanda’s essence as well as with a fussy mind that was hazy as you came all over the palm of her hand. You felt limp against Wanda, milk drooling out of your lips as she hugged you tightly. 

“Such a good little one for mommy,” she whispered to your exhausted body with the utmost love residing in her soul. “My perfect baby.”

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

The insatiable nature Wanda had was not easily dissuaded no matter how close she got to giving birth until Agatha put a halt to it. She urged the two of you to be careful and cease any of your typically fun workouts with each other until weeks after the birth of the twins. Although it left your wife pouting all the way to the car knowing she’d need to stop at the very least a few weeks before giving birth, given she carried not one but two lives inside of her, you were the one which upheld the advice given to you by the doctor. 

But alas, that didn’t stop either of you from humoring Wanda’s increased sex drive for whatever time you could.

“I want it to be special,” Wanda had told you late one night as she lay exhausted beside you with her head in the clouds. “Let’s make it a night we won’t forget.” 

Keeping in mind her words which resonated with you, you made sure to do exactly what your wife wished. Previous talks about several different fantasies came to you, but only one stood out. Surely she’d look ravishing with a schoolgirl outfit being bent over the desk as you spanked her with a meter stick, but you didn’t think it would be safe enough for the moment. From all the possible choices there could only be one that you knew she’d enjoy while remaining unharmed. 

Wanda had stared at you incredulously when she first stepped into the room, but as she quickly went to do as you told her, to get on her hands and knees on the bed, the thrill came to her. She hadn’t noticed the camera pointing at the bed until a few minutes passed of you undressing yourself. When you happened upon her suddenly wide smile, your eyebrows were raised. 

“So, what do you think?” You questioned knowing what the answer would be already. After days of online shopping, you had finally settled on a beautiful gift to commemorate what Wanda deemed as the last official night of lovemaking before the twins were born. Walking around the bed, you stood before your partner showing off the item in your hands. “I got this for you to wear. I thought it would be fitting.”

“It’s beautiful,” Wanda mumbled, emerald orbs gawking at the pink collar that resided in your hands. She was particularly intrigued by the heart-shaped tag that hung from it with the words ‘pretty girl’ bestowed on it.

“Just like you,” you replied cheekily. Nodding her way, you brought the collar close to the woman. “May I?”

The redhead shuddered at the unfamiliarity of the faux leather around her throat. She giggled happily, looking down as you locked the collar that sat comfortably on her body. It was the perfect fit, and you knew then it would be hard to get it off Wanda without even a smidge of protest. 

As the two of you settled into the scene, your bodies relaxed and melted against one another. You couldn’t help but laugh as each second Wanda attempted to steal a quick glance at the area between your legs – already painfully hard and oozing with pre-cum. Your tip slapped accidentally against her legs as you settled behind her, the camera already turned on and began to take video of what was happening. 

“Such a pretty girl,” you repeated the words from her collar as your hands came down upon Wanda’s ass, squeezing tightly until your handprints were left behind. “And a fucking slut.”

Each time you dared spew such degrading words, Wanda’s chest would become filled with exhilaration. Not only were her features reddened with her immense arousal, but her pussy appeared flushed with puffiness and slickness. It was impossible to keep yourself from running your fingers through such wetness, much less to prevent yourself from grabbing your erect cock and rubbing its bulging head to part the folds of her slit. 

Her guttural moans were low as they banged against the four walls of the bedroom. Already having been cleared for maternity leave, the woman found herself to be both bored and in desperate need of you at all times. Even the slightest touches, a brush of your dick upon her cunt, made her squirm before begging to have you inside – and that is exactly what you gave her. 

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” you grunted as you eased into Wanda. She was far too wet to cause any difficulty, instead leading you to be enveloped around her gentle warmth. “I bet you like it when I stick my cock in you, huh? You’re nothing but a mindless bitch for my dick. So fucking needy and obsessed.”

“I love it,” Wanda groaned while nuzzling her face against the bed sheets. “I love your cock so fucking much.”

“Yeah?” You tried your best not to let yourself get carried away, but it was impossible when Wanda’s pussy gripped you with such firmness. Suddenly you couldn’t contain your urges as you gripped her hips to begin fucking her with hard thrusts. “It’s like your pussy was only meant to take me. Oh baby you’re fucking dripping like a needy slut in heat. It’s so adorable.”

Wanda’s pleasure wasn’t deterred by the way in which you treated her almost like an object. She knew she was nothing other than a fleshlight of yours to have, and she loved every second of it. You spent the majority of your days constantly praising your wife, but at times she needed to be reminded of her place within scenes. No longer did she care for control, but instead found solace within the warm embrace of forceful submission and objectification. 

Your cock was hugged warmly by her inner walls that were stretched out with each time you pounded her. Wanda was forced to stare directly into the camera, her hair pulled as you made her show off her new beautiful collar. Her stomach was swollen, and at times a hand drifted down to cup it before making its way to her sensitive breasts whose nipples perked up when you grazed. The alabaster skin was set aflame and you were the culprit, but your eyes solely remained upon her cunt where your dick disappeared into, hitting Wanda’s sweetest spot and making her scream. 

“F-fuck,” your wife stuttered out through gritted teeth. “Oh baby…baby! I’m so close.”

“Then cum, you naughty whore,” you huffed. The sounds of your skins slapping together made for a glorious orchestra. Knowing you were close as well, you gripped Wanda’s waist, humming as you were ready to let go. “Show the camera how much of a cock-addicted bitch you are, Mrs. Maximoff.”

When she came, so did you. Your bodies were synched up and connected as one. The growing arousal one felt carried on to another, and you failed to see how you’d ever let go of such a lustful heat. Wanda squirted, her juices overflowing all over her inner thighs, your twitching cock, and the sheets. Meanwhile her insides were tainted by white drops that stuffed her pussy full of cum, some even leaking out adorably. 

Neither of you could move, at least not until you found enough energy to gently slide yourself out of your partner. Her cunt released your dick with a sloshing sound which made you arche in even more need. Gulping down, you teasingly slapped a hand over Wanda’s ass, who turned to sit facing you with her reddened face. 

“What a mess,” Wanda giggled as she eyed your throbbing member bouncing excitedly calling for her cunt which oozed out a mix of cum and juices. “Hm, don’t you want me to clean that up, sweetheart? With my mouth?”

Grabbing your still hard cock, you bit down on your bottom lip. “Then get on your knees, pretty girl. And get to sucking.”

For the camera, mostly for you, Wanda put in the utmost amount of effort into entertainment. You sat at the edge of the bed with her kneeled in front of you. The tip of your dick pressed against her cheeks inside her mouth, bulging them up for the camera to see. There was no time wasted as her head bobbed up and down, taking in countless inches of you while you very lovingly guided her through it. 

“Such a cute cock sucker,” you couldn’t help but say, all for Wanda to look up with wide, doe eyes before gargling all over your length. “That’s it, baby. I want you to swallow every single drop like the good girl I know you are. Hm, can’t wait until I can fill that pretty pussy of yours with even more pups knowing how needy you get for my dick…”

And by the gods did Wanda deliver.

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When the twins came, all of your anxieties came crashing down into a mixture of a breakdown and hyperventilation. It was night when Wanda’s contractions felt worse, leading the woman to wake you up with a wail as she clutched her stomach painfully. You feared seeing blood between her legs again, but were relieved to find other fluids lying there before rushing to lead her out of the house, go-bag in hand with other necessary trinkets. 

Hours passed before any news came. You were to sit by Wanda’s side at every second, holding her hand and remaining uncaring about how much she squeezed it from pain. The twins wanted to get out, you knew, but refused to do so quickly enough. It left your wife in a state of frenzy, her face continuously scrunched up as she begged you, not the nurses, to get the babies out of you – at times even threatening to divorce you if you failed to complete the task. 

“These little shi-”

“Wanda,” you calmly interjected. “You know, they’re coming out soon. Imagine the first words you tell our children being those. That’ll do something to their self-esteem, don’t you think?”

The snide look Wanda threw your way was synonymous with that of murder. “Really? Because I doubt they’ll remember the time they almost killed their mom giving her so much- fuck! So much pain,” she hissed. Her teeth gritted against one another, and as she saw a nurse coming to check on her, the redhead scared her off with flaring nostrils. “But I sure as well am remembering this. I can’t wait until they get old enough for me to blackmail them for doing this to me.”

“Well, they didn’t exactly choose to be born,” you mused hoping it would diffuse her anger only for it to be made worse.”

“You…” Wanda paused, eyebrows furrowing as she gave her words some thought. She turned to you, but you refused to even look her in the eye before shriveling up to her mighty hand. “You did this to me. You put not one, but two fucking babies inside of me! Oh Y/N, I’m about to fucking kill y-”

Her words died in her lips as the doctor rushed in. She did more to soothe your wife’s fears, something you were thankful for as being at the receiving end of her rage, even if heightened by her situation, was never taken with positivity. They prepared her to finally push, and that was the moment your eyes flashed before your eyes. Time stood still as the realization panged at your heart. I’m going to be a parent again. My twins, our Billy and our Tommy, they’re coming…

The process by no means was easy to watch, but your empathy was with Wanda who was the one needing to go through all the hard work. Even when covered in sweat and yelling out profanities in the midst of her pain, your wife was forever defined by her beauty. You leaned down to praise her, to remind her of the brave warrior she was for carrying two lives in her at once. There was no one stronger than your partner and you needed her to remember. 

Cries of the first baby came out, and you immediately knew that it was your Tommy who went out faster than the speed of light. You shied away from seeing him in the first few seconds, but as soon as you could see the doctor holding up a small, frail child, your eyes widened with love. Tears formed in your eyes, and while they carried on to get Billy out, you were solely focused on the little one that you realized was the picture-perfect image of you as an infant. 

Complications ensued in getting Billy out as copious amounts of blood were left in the first twins’ wake. You wondered what went on, but as soon as the doctor mentioned the need for a Cesarean section, your face went pale. Holding down bouts of fear, you faced Wanda, but she was far too high by her torture to care. So as soon as they brought out the necessary instruments to get the second child out, you shuddered. 

“It’s okay,” you promised Wanda even as she was put to sleep. The hold on your hand loosened, but you never let go of hers. “It’s okay, honey. Billy’s going to get to meet his mama soon just like Tommy.” You so wanted to believe that, but a small part of you feared for the worst. “You’re going to be okay, Wanda. You both will.”

Nothing could ever prepare you for seeing your wife cut open, but as soon as you noticed a small infant being pulled out, you beamed. The cries let you become aware of his healthy state as a nurse grabbed Billy to give him the same exact treatment. He was checked out before you requested to hold him, all while watching over Tommy. Those were your boys. Not identical, but each one of them mirroring either you or Wanda. 

Hours passed before your wife was awakened, and as soon as her eyes fluttered open, she ignored the pain on her lower abdomen from the fresh set of stitches. Instead she scanned the room carefully, humming as her panic died out upon the sight of you still by her side. 

“Are they safe?” Wanda groggily questioned, suddenly afraid of what the answer would be. But as soon as you nodded, the exhausted ends of her mouth rose. “Thank you, Y/N. I…I am in so much fucking pain right now, but I’m glad I got you by my side, sweetie.”

“I’m the one that should be thankful for you. I mean, you just gave birth to two kids. I can’t ever imagine going through that,” you replied. “The nurse said that they’ll bring the twins up in a few hours. Billy, uh, looks a lot like a mini-Wanda I have to say. He’s got your nose scrunches and everything down.”

“Really? Oh I can’t wait to see them.” Wanda squeezed your hand once more, but this time you could feel all the love she had for you with a simple electrifying touch. “I wish we got to meet her too.”

At that you merely hummed, but she knew how much you longed for that to have been a reality. 

When the time came for you and Wanda to see the twins in a much cleaner, sleepy state, both of you were overcome with joy. She had trouble moving with her fresh wound, so the nurse carefully placed Tommy on her chest while you received a yawning Billy. No words needed to be spoken at that moment. The love you had for your children, even if new, wouldn’t ever die out. They were your lives, and as you shared a knowing look, you both came to be on the same page – nothing would dare intervene with them so long as you were alive.

[malleleothreesome]

Blindfolded Malleus

💚 summary: You edge Malleus while he's blindfolded ༶༶༶ 💚 warnings: gender neutral reader, you go to TOWN on those horns of his, brief mention of Malleus wanting to breed you, blowjob, penis in [gender neutral hole] sex, creampie ༶༶༶ 💚 word count: 6.6k words ༶༶༶ 💚 inspired by: @creepysun-cpsunnhild's ask thank you! ♡✧*:･ﾟ

Malleus sits patiently on his bed, hands clasped on his lap, buzzing with nervous excitement as he waits for you to join him. He is already stripped down to only his boxers, eager to begin the night's festivities.

"Are you nervous?" you ask him as you rummage around in your backpack before finally pulling out a silky black blindfold purchased from the secret backroom of Sam's shop.

Malleus blinks, mouth parting slightly in the way he does when surprised, "A little? This is rather... novel for me." His lips fall into a pout. "Being unable to see your face is strange. I won't get to enjoy your expression as you pleasure me..."

You zip up your backpack and saunter over to his bed where Malleus waits, boxers tented around the evidence that he is looking forward to this, despite his apprehensions. You flash him a mischievous smile as you crawl over to him on the bed, settling in a straddle across his thighs. "That will just force you to be more sensitive to my touch," you coo as you cup his soft, milky cheek in your hand, admiring the complete beauty of his face for a final moment before you blindfold him. As he returns your loving gaze, his slitted pupils start to widen from desire and you watch in awe as his verdant irises are completely swallowed by inky pools of hunger. “I promise you won't even miss my face in the heat of the moment,” you try to reassure him.

He scoffs before murmuring in a low, smoky voice, "You know me far better than that, child of man." And yet, despite his objections, he obediently tilts his chin down, lowering his lashes as he allows you to place the black silk over his face. Malleus inhales sharply as the light suddenly dims to complete darkness. He stills like a startled creature of the forest as his sight leaves him, his muscles tense and his eyelids twitch under the silk as he comes to terms with his new vulnerability. You stop straddling him, denying him the comforting warmth of your thighs against his as you crouch on your knees beside him. He growls as you refuse to indulge his lust, remaining perfectly still as he struggles to find his bearings. You want him to simmer with arousal before you ease his longing—a little frustration will make his eventual orgasm that much more satisfying.

His innate magical ability attempts to compensate for the obscuration of his eyes by granting him heightened senses that would guide him in a perilous situation. He finds himself hyper aware of the beating of your heart and the slow rhythmic cadence of your breathing. The tension between your still bodies grows palpable. Your heartbeats thrum synchronically with the silent yearning of two lovers desperate to press skin against skin. Malleus is so ethereally beautiful, your heart can’t help but leap every time you look at him. The black silk shrouding his vision only serves to emphasize the handsome cut of his jaw and his sharp, seductive lips, parted in breathless anticipation. The glossy fabric paints a dark tapestry against the snowy hues of his skin. A lock of his viridian hair slips along his forehead in a way that accentuates the graceful curve of his brow. Every fiber of his being drips with all the charms of an otherworldly prince, an untouchable enigma that transcends mortal understanding. Yet he sits there, completely bared to you, stripped of his power, a masterpiece defaced by a veil of cloth; a prize awaiting the taking.

Despite his lack of sight, he can feel your gaze on him like a physical caress, causing goosebumps to sprout across his alabaster skin and his ears and cheeks to bloom a flustered rose-red. He knows you are simply teasing him, but the sensation of being denied his favorite view of his beloved is utterly infuriating. Yet, something about being without your gaze stirs the desire within him. When your lovemaking has reached its peak in the past, the sight of your flushed cheeks and blissed out expression has made his blood run hot and has left him in the throes of the most pleasurable high. Not being able to gaze upon you will allow him to focus his whole being upon the ecstasy he feels every time he is brought to climax. This denial will amplify the sensations he will feel in the midst of passion and he finds himself anxiously anticipating how overwhelming those emotions might be. His cock grows harder and twitches excitedly at the thought and he bites his lip to contain the groans of arousal rising up in the back of his throat. Your proximity, despite him being unable to see your form, is positively maddening. Now that sight is taken away, the darkness is acting like an aphrodisiac. He wants nothing more than to lose himself to desire, touch, scent, and sound—to bring both of your hearts racing and be subsumed in an orgasmic trance. And so, the anticipation of the evening ahead courses through Malleus' body in electric tremors, setting his soul on fire. For someone with the lifespan of a fae, a moment is but a speck of sand on a shore, yet every minute you make him wait seems to drag into torturous eternity. He wants—no, he craves to take you and bask in the throes of passionate euphoria... Yet, he sits there, at the mercy of you and the unfolding events.

His growing sexual frustration sends a surge of wicked mischief through your blood as you crouch on the plush duvet alongside him. Malleus feels the bed shift and your body moving ever closer, then the caress of your hot breath tickling against his neck, near his sensitive ears, just a whisper away. He shudders deliciously as the phantom sensation of your moist, parted lips nears his bare shoulder, sending a chill through his entire body that culminates in a tingling tightness that pulses through his dick, which has reached full mast and throbs painfully in his boxers. Just as he is beginning to move his mouth to admonish you for such cruel teasing, his body suddenly jerks in surprise as he is overcome by the wet and gentle pressure of your mouth suckling ever so gently against his sensitive nape, right in that one spot, the one you know makes his knees turn to jelly. Malleus can't help the startled gasp that falls from his mouth as his body surrenders entirely, arching slightly at the pleasurable sensation, head lulling back just a little. He shivers as your palms ghost across his bare chest in a featherlight graze, sighing as his muscles are soothed by the balmy smoothness of your hands. You seem intent on teasing his neck—tugging, suckling, kissing, licking—and the teasing wet heat and gentle suction against his throat drives him to near delirium. The muscles of his neck tense as he gulps down heavy breaths, and you revel in the sound of him fighting desperately to contain his lust, your mouth quirking up into a smirk against his throat. His head leans back further to grant you more access to his soft flesh, and he resists the urge to stroke himself, biting his lower lip as your kisses start to descend along his pectorals, your tongue teasing at a hardened nipple before continuing to worship him down his abdominal muscles to the dip of his hips and eventually stopping just short of where he really wants it. Malleus is panting, almost as if in time with his throbbing member as it demands attention, yet your fingers remain above the waistband, tempting him.

"Keep going," he commands quietly, craving more than your hesitant brushes, his heart quickening at the sound of your own racing pulse. You have found a delicious torment in delaying him, and his inability to see your next move has caused his whole body to come alive. Malleus bites his lower lip harder, nearly breaking skin to maintain his self control as your fingertips barely push at the elastic band of his underwear, your nails only teasing the thin trail of hair below his navel. The tiniest contact is overwhelming on his skin, leaving a blazing trail in the wake of the featherlight touch, and a trembling warmth deep within him as his desire crescendos. Every part of him is suddenly alert, drinking up the ambiance, the muffled silence only adding an ethereal atmosphere of mystique to his hazy world of arousal and delight. "My love, please give me more," he begs. The strained edge in his voice stirs the rising excitement within you and your core aches at his ardent need. A little hitch in your breath catches his attention. Without the ability to watch your expressions, his sharp ears have begun to strain to hear every indication of arousal from you.

A bratty whine escapes Malleus' pouting lips as you completely withdraw your hands, body heat disappearing as you leave him exposed. The void of your warmth leaves him cold, an abyss to match his own darkness, yet he is lost for words as your mouth finds his erect cock through the fabric of his boxers, swallowing his bulge, the friction of your dampened tongue against him shooting straight to his balls. Your saliva bleeds through the cloth in a thick stain as you use your mouth to slowly torture him, knowing this is driving him insane. A jumble of pants and unintelligible phrases fall from the normally reserved Malleus' mouth and his hands fist themselves in the bedsheets, threatening to rip them in his pent-up ecstasy, knuckles stark white in strain as he groans. Your relentless hot and wet pressure on his erection is turning him into a salacious mess, but it's not nearly enough—he's desperate to feel your skin and a feral growl rattles around in his throat. His instinctive need to seize control of the situation becomes clouded in the heady fog of the erotic pleasure that your touches instill within him, a thrall he's unfamiliar with but too far gone to resist. When he thinks he can't stand the sweetly agonizing tease any longer, your lips pull away, leaving him wanting for your moist, breathy heat to return to him. Malleus whines piteously, squirming in place in silent desperation, fists tightly balled.

Your heart soars when you hear him making these vulnerable little noises of absolute submission to his craving for your body—as much as you know his primal urges are telling him to toss you onto his lap and take you, his dedication to your sadistic game prevents his true lusts from prevailing. He wants to ravage you, to gorge himself on your flesh as you scream his name into his pillows, to bite down on the crook of your neck when he's plunging deep within your hot, aching depth. Instead, he endures his cock's ceaseless torment.

As you contemplate your next course of action, your eyes settle on the enigmatic vestigial holdover from his ancestors—his horns. Growing directly from his skull and twisting in two thick curves adorned with glowing flecks of opulent teal, they frame his beautiful visage with an unmistakable air of eerie mystique. Intrigued by the sharp, slender peaks, you straddle Malleus' lap once again, his aching need nudging up against your clothed sex and making him groan from the limited pleasure he finally receives. He never eluded to any sensuality about the pointed projections adoring his head, but your curious lust can't help but wonder if they're erogenous. It certainly wouldn't surprise you if the fearsome protrusions were a weakness for your beautiful and powerful lover. If they could invoke in him a tantalizing rush of decadent sensation, they would surely aid you in his titillation. His previous words of caution ring in your mind—"You're welcome to touch them… though I can't guarantee what would happen to you if you did."—yet your perversion yearns to test out your theory.

You slowly lean your bodyweight towards his head until he feels you looming over him, your body's warmth fanning over his face and giving a comforting presence to his empty, disoriented world. The hint of a smirk curls at the corner of his lips as he begins to tilt his face, wrongfully expecting a kiss. Malleus had suspected your lusts would soon get the better of you and would ultimately yield him the rapture he seeks. You don't even notice the way his mouth opens slightly, wet, plush lips eagerly awaiting yours. The air between you two is electric with a smoldering, simmering need, threatening to spark into something raging. However, you swerve his inviting kiss, instead placing both your hands firmly against each horn, beginning a gentle massage on the cool bone. You can’t help but grin in prideful victory when a yelp falls from Malleus' lips and he bucks upwards, his hips suddenly snapping with wild impulse in a carnal attempt to sheathe his engorged cock within the beckoning warmth of your tight hole. Malleus' shocked gasp shifts into a guttural, feral sound. His blood is filled with electricity and lust, the lewd sounds emanating from deep within him like a forbidden spell of obscene delight.

The rumble of his inhuman grumble rolls through his entire chest, and the vibration of the low, loud noise goes straight to your throbbing sex. His reaction to you is deliciously intense, and you begin to twist and rub your thumb and index finger around the ridges of the horns, tracing the shapes and sending tiny shivers down Malleus' spine. You watch him, holding your breath in captivated awe as his upper lip lifts into a snarl and his bottom lip falls, allowing another dirty, draconic growl to spill out. The blackness of his vision leaves his mind no choice but to sink deeper into carnal euphoria, his mouth hanging agape and eyes rolling behind his blindfold, the pale skin of his cheeks becoming flushed as he drowns in the overwhelming sensations that consume him entirely. You run your fingernail up and down the sides of his horns simultaneously with a tantalizing tickle, and Malleus' head jerks in your grasp, neck muscles tense with shock from how amazingly sensitive this area of him is. With a naughty grin you plant a messy, wet kiss on one horn, then drag your teeth along the slick surface while your fingers begin a slow, erotic massage where the base of his horn meets the tender skin of his scalp. A downright depraved string of nonsensical, fragmented curses of ecstasy tumble from Malleus' throat. As his primal urge to breed overrides any common sense, the harsh sting of claws dig into the delicate skin of your forearms.

Your caress on his horns is like having the tips of every nerve of his being stimulated at once. His hips start thrusting almost automatically, as though his brain no longer commands him with any sort of reason. His desires take full control, acting on instinct to rut against anything and everything, and a hot ache ripples through his nether regions. The undergarment that traps him from absolute nirvana becomes uncomfortably tight, as his manhood pushes the limits of what the cotton material can bear. A damp and translucent stain of precum has bled through onto the fabric. His mind is swirling with a heady cocktail of lust, love, and urgency—the absence of sight heightening every aspect, every molecule of physical joy, creating a searing, constant arousal deep within him. At last, you have coaxed your regal Prince to reach a whole new state of passion.

You can feel yourself becoming more aroused with each erotic sound you draw from Malleus' throat, as your love for him is mixed with your innate masochism to torture and tease, causing a molten heat to blossom within you. Unable to deny him any longer, you let your lips fall to his mouth and Malleus eagerly reciprocates without hesitation, the heat between the two of you almost unbearable. Teeth clash as he hungrily devours your lips and his arms fly to pull you close so he may sink himself into your flesh and keep you for an eternity, one arm slipping to your lower back and pressing you towards him, his other hand weaving itself through your soft locks. This is what Malleus longed for: the warmth, the wetness, and the sinful slide of your tongue against his. His heart is set ablaze as you grip onto his face, cradling the beloved contours in an almost desperate plea to be as near him as possible, wanting to hold your lover to your body until he melts within you. His deep, sonorous moans of lecherous longing resonate throughout your whole body, echoing in the cavern of your very soul until it makes your heart weep with an overwhelming love and passion. You realize now, more than ever, how dear this fae Prince is to you, how absolutely crucial he has become for your every living moment. As Malleus hungrily chases every ounce of physical sensation he can achieve through the one person that matters the most to him, he feels the exact same love and desperation well in him and pour into his kiss, transmitting his emotions back to you. The blindfold begins to dampen from his overflowing tears as the magnitude of your passion for him stirs a surge of affection and desire that nearly rips his beating heart out of his chest. He clutches you ever closer as a small sob rises up, overcome by his love for the beguiling little mortal whose unconditional acceptance and magical charms have entranced him since day one. You drink up his ardent devotion like a life-sustaining elixir.

Eventually, you break the kiss with a moan and slide off his body, and he mourns your warmth against him, a lonely tear absorbing into the silk. Malleus cannot contain a whimper, as his blood pulses so fiercely, a carnal and primal drive floods his being. It is beyond lust, beyond physical desire—you have reignited the very core of who he is as an eternal, draconic prince and have reminded him of the fire that beats within his breast. His body aches and throbs in equal amounts sexual and emotional passion, his need to release so intense that his breaths come in short, quick pants. His muscles spasm uncontrollably from the sensations running rampant in every extremity, and he sobs with pent-up desire, clawing at the duvet as though it would relieve the ceaseless, tortuous pressure that plagues him. His heart yearns, yet his libido aches, the girth of his dick straining against his waistband like a caged animal desperate to break free from its bindings and let the true beast emerge.

A relieved sigh escapes him when, a moment later, your cool, soft hands dip below the elastic of his boxers and gently slide them down and off. His erect cock slaps against his stomach, weeping pearls of precum and glistening from the prolonged sexual torture of the evening, standing at full attention. Its girthy length twitches with impatience. One teasing fingertip just barely grazes its tip, gathering the beads of lust and dragging them along his length. A strained yelp forces its way out of Malleus' parched and trembling lips, and his whole body tenses, toes curling. The sheets are being pulled in the violent vice grip of his fists, the sheer force of his magical grip threatening to rip them in half. You begin to languidly trace along his shaft at a tantalizingly slow and soft pace, driving him out of his mind. It's barely enough contact to get any satisfaction, yet far more than enough to make him jolt at the blissful sparks that you ignite within him. You ghost your breath across the length, blowing air on his heated flesh as a paltry reward to Malleus' plight. He cries your name in a pitchy, agonized tone as your hands pull away and he tries not to sob with frustration at the lack of touch. Before he can complain, a new, torturous sensation wracks his frame: the phantasmagoric feeling of soft, pillowy lips dragging against the tip of his shaft, eliciting a filthy whine and a throaty gasp. He feels more wet heat around his sensitive glans as your tongue bathes the area with hot saliva, savoring the briny taste of his essence, then leaving him abruptly. You're far too much of a tease, giving him just a sample before pulling away. His balls feel painfully swollen as he reaches his limit and his member seizes with another sharp throb of arousal.

And then, with a wet squelch, the heat of your mouth descends onto the entirety of his rock-hard erection, taking him all in to the hilt. Your cheeks hallow to create suction as your tongue swirls around his engorged tip and your throat relaxes as his length is buried down your throat, holding your breath and stifling your gag reflex for a brief moment before bobbing your head up and down, fucking his hard dick with your mouth and salivating profusely over his thick length. The sweetly sinful sensation of his throbbing erection buried deep down your esophagus causes his mind to shut off, his brain short-circuiting from the intensity of pleasure. Your talented tongue swirls and twirls around the mushroom tip while your hands massage up and down along his shaft, working his flesh in synchronous harmony, threatening to break him down into a quivering mess under the expertise of your skilled mouth. It's absolutely obscene, how willingly your jaw hangs wide for him, how you guzzle up every inch of his thick cock as though he's the best meal of your life.

Now that you have him back where you want him, you take your time torturing him by switching your rhythm every time his groans begin to sound too desperate, denying him the relief his poor aching cock so desperately craves. You gently guide his shaft upright with a tug of your hand, angling his thick cock directly into your mouth and ensuring you completely envelop his tip in your throat. Every time you hollow your cheeks and move his throbbing erection in and out of your mouth at a vigorous pace, Malleus is unable to hold his voice back. He tosses his head back, letting your tongue lavish the underside of his cock. The velvety heat of your tongue sweeps from the base all the way to his glans, lapping across his slit before wrapping your lips around his thick girth again. Your tongue meticulously teases and suckles on his sweet spots, knowing that because of his loss of vision he is acutely aware of every change in pressure, every shift in the path of your tongue, and every powerful stroke of your hand. You have successfully reduced the unshakeable Prince of Thorns into a mess of low moans and ragged, staccato breaths. Your name comes out in pleading pants, like he's calling to you to take his seed and give him the relief he desires so desperately. Your sucking and swirling heat pulls Malleus' balls up closer, tight and ready, his member starting to spasm as his end rushes ever nearer.

"Dearest..." Malleus murmurs as softly as possible, shuddering as pleasure lances through him like lightning, barely audible above the squelches and wet smacks, his hips bucking frantically now, "I beg of you... Please, do not be cruel. I cannot—please." You know how sensitive he is to touch, his every nerve is so over stimulated, and his blindness is making everything hit a whole new level.

"That's enough—hnnnng. This is far too much for me to handle... You're truly evil for using my body like this—oh, do not stop—" A litany of indecencies flow forth in an increasingly erratic rhythm to accompany the melodious cadence of his dulcet moans. Every time you push his length down your throat, he thinks you've given up playing around and finally decided to let him spill his hot load, only for you to relent at the last second and reduce your fervency. He curses your name, promising retaliation later in the form of the most passionate fucking of your entire life. The cruel torture begins anew with a playful kiss on his tip or a lewd slurp at the base of his cock as your hands fondle and caress him. It is almost inhuman the level of control his child of man has to be able to push him close to the edge and retreat with surgical precision, again and again, leaving him in complete anguish.

The hard tip of his cock slams the back of your throat, threatening to suffocate your breath and sending a deluge of saliva trickling down his swollen balls and slickening your lips. He cannot suppress the rough and rapid snapping of his hips against you, plunging his penis to the very end, every lunge making you gag. When you swallow and clench your throat around his length, Malleus' breaths dissolve into frantic wheezes, his chest heaving, unable to even finish his sentence before his lungs are sucked empty in ecstasy. Your hands cup the heavy, weighted balls beneath, fingers and nails digging in slightly before gripping onto his ass as you swallow around his entire girth, pumping his dick in rhythm with his thrusts as if to milk him and show no mercy. Your muffled squeals of encouragement spur Malleus on, the sounds you're making giving him permission to use your mouth like his own personal fuck-toy, his own filthy fantasy. His eyes squeeze shut behind the blindfold as the red, pulsing void suddenly fills with the vivid memory of the look on your face the last time he pounded your face so mercilessly, that wonderful face all covered in his seed, cheeks dripping with his creamy splatter. He moans brokenly as his fantasies meld with reality in the blinding darkness. The sheer act of being able to fully appreciate and wallow in the sense of absolute decadent delight his beloved grants him, as well as your own enthusiasm for him—all these sensations surge forth in a mighty torrent. Malleus knows you're preparing to build him up to a devastating peak of passion.

With a firm yet gentle grip, you dig the tips of your fingers into the ample flesh of your lover's thighs, feeling their toned rippling as you keep him in place. Your fingernails sink a little, creating faint, red trails in your wake, marking Malleus' flawless skin as evidence of your claim over his body. Without warning, his hard length slips out of your wet lips with an obscene pop, and the fae Prince whimpers once more from the cold drafts of the dorm room settling over his sopping, saliva-coated member. 

Before he has any time to register the shock of the loss, the bedsheets shift again under your movements as you swiftly remove your underwear before returning to position on your knees outside of his open legs. He holds his breath, eagerly anticipating the impending penetration of his lover's deepest parts and the messy release of the tight knot of sexual desire within the pit of his stomach. A baritone, satisfied groan bursts from the depths of Malleus' lungs as your warmth encases his erection, sheathing his dick in an endless flow of slippery heat and the most luxurious pressure. It is one of his favorite pleasures to hold you close after having penetrated your deepest core and simply stay there to savor the ecstatic sensations. Nothing can replicate the pure feeling of euphoric fulfillment and unadulterated bliss when your lower half is connected as closely as it possibly can with his—both of your intimate zones smoldering in the ecstasy of total conjoining, bodies becoming one and unified, your souls entwined in a kiss. His toes curl and his muscles shudder, but before he can adjust, you start moving, using your hips to ride his lap.

Your thighs settle snugly around Malleus' hips, your weight rocking forward to penetrate your loins deeper on his member and envelop every inch of him until his hard cock reaches the deepest regions of your core. Malleus can barely comprehend what's going on, his mind drowning in an ocean of the purest pleasure, his hands searching desperately for yours as you place his palms on either side of your waist for a good grip. His lover's palms, made small by the bulk of his own, have only moments ago been manipulating his sensitive erection and granting him such euphoria. To touch the very appendages that have stimulated him, to hold you steady, to feel the love that flows through the both of you—the thrill of the experience sets Malleus' mind into overdrive, the preciousness of his time together with you compounding with his heightened physical sensations in a stunning synthesis. A symphony of sexy, wet noises of colliding bodies, creaking mattress, and throaty gasps and moans echo throughout his lonely, shadowy abyss, and Malleus feels as though his senses are being pleasurably overwhelmed. Malleus shoves his cock ever deeper within, nudging against the slick flesh with feverish abandon. He becomes desperate for an even tighter hold, urging your body to submit to him and drown in bliss. As his dick pumps into your sweet, greedy, and dripping hole with zealous thrusts, your combined rhythm becomes lost to the utter delirium of rapture as the fae's raw instincts to rut you senseless take over. The Prince of Darkness doesn't hold anything back— he thrusts up into your body with full and furious strokes, growls turning animalistic, cock pounding with merciless thrusts, and balls slapping against the juncture of your thighs.

You can barely handle the sheer thickness of Malleus' dick inside of you, its girth is massive. It stretches your walls and massages every part of you, the large ridge along his cock's underside scraping against your insides with every relentless slam. The slightest movement sends fireworks shooting through you and drives you insane, the heated passion causing a powerful buildup of pleasure already. Your gasps rise in volume, turning into shrieks as you give him your body entirely. One of his hands trails up from your waist, the rough and calloused fingertips ghost across your collarbone and up the curve of your neck. His head is tossed back from the carnal fucking but those elegant, sharp fingernails linger over your pulse, feeling the way blood beats under your skin and listening for the hitch of breath every time the angle of his cock rubs up against something magical inside of you.

Malleus is constantly shifting his position, driving his huge dick into the different angles with practiced efficiency as he listens intently for where to thrust harder, to where your breathing is quickest, and where he gets the loudest moans. The noise echoes back to him like the raunchiest opera. It leaves you shaking on him as he explores you with his cock, the sheer intensity of his frenzied ministrations threatening to make your eyes roll into the back of your head. Every single slam of his dick draws you to the edge of the pleasure-bound chasm, as waves of satisfaction ripple throughout every fiber of your being.

His large, sturdy hands have never left your form and cling possessively. When he lets go, it's to scrape his claws down the tops of your shoulders before seizing you tightly once more. With his thighs tense, his strong muscles drive up into you at a merciless speed, over and over. A throttled roar is building in the pit of Malleus' chest. At the top of your lungs, you scream out his name. There is no room for your thoughts, only the constant stream of the lust-drenched fog and the instinctive urge to reach your peak. Malleus' talons scratch down your back before grabbing onto the tops of your asscheeks and forcing your lower bodies impossibly closer together. Malleus bites your neck while simultaneously drilling his cock as deep as he can possibly go before pausing there, grinding into you and groaning. Your bodies move together in tandem, a wet dance that staves off your looming orgasms for a few more thrusts and moans.

Through the blinding white ecstasy, you can vaguely hear the haughty prince remarking how perfectly he fits and feels inside you. Between your moans and the slapping sound, his breathy laugh cuts through the room and brushes hot against the crook of your neck, teasing, "Your insides... tighten when I praise you..." Your walls immediately squeeze him on reflex at those words. This discovery of another weakness brings him closer, more ravenous, a little bit more wild with the need to take and claim. His face buries into your skin and his tongue flicks out against your neck, drinking up the salt of your sweat as he nips, bites, and sucks his mark there. Malleus wants to fill your greedy hole with his seed, mark his territory, make it absolutely clear that you are his forever by stuffing you full until his cum trickles from the very corners of you and soaks into the silken sheets of his bed. He pants and growls lewdly, plundering into you like a heathen and abandoning any sense of shame as he fully lets go of all composure. The guttural moans and bestial noises escaping his throat reverberate like music in your ears. They signal that the gorgeous prince is drawing dangerously near his edge. The primal urges you have summoned from him command his every thought and his body reacts instantaneously to all the stimulation you've given him thus far. Your mouth falls open, wanton moans now turning into shameless screaming. You match the intensity with which Malleus throws his entire body into the movements of fucking your hole. Malleus doesn't allow your body a single moment's rest as he thoroughly ruins you—each carnal rut and frenetic pound of his manhood into your core sets fire to your whole being, reducing your soul to ash in the passion's wake. His engorged, reddened tip abuses your g-spot to the point that your walls can't even tighten around him anymore due to being so utterly overwhelmed by his dick.

Malleus' heart jackhammers against his ribs and a sound that can only be described as a primal, draconic cry roars out. Thick, creamy spurts of his warm seed paint your inner walls white as his balls pulse and churn, filling you up so generously. The depth of your love and adoration has finally ripped the fae's last threads of restraint to shreds, unleashing his true self—wild, uncontrollable, feral—and the transcendent bliss leaves him howling your name in a voice more akin to a monster than a beautiful Prince. You throw your head back, feeling every muscle of your inner body clench in delicious contractions as you, too, reach the precipice, gushing all over him. All you can manage is to sink onto his thick, throbbing cock and just quake with the intense force of your orgasmic bliss, your legs spasming around him as you milk his twitching shaft.

Every wave of your orgasm sends him into his next. Your loud wails of pure pleasure are music to his ears. He growls and thrusts against you, eager to ensure you have been completely and utterly defiled with his load. The exhilaration and anticipation that was building all night finally peaks, and the intensity is just right to leave the both of you in an tangled afterglow of sweaty, quivering limbs. All he can see are swirling spots of magical color swimming in front of the blinding black of his blindfold. Every sense becomes a blurry haze. When he finds enough control over his quivering frame, Malleus holds you up and close to him, refusing to slip out from your body, letting you come to rest against his strong, tender embrace and gently stroking your hair as you nestle your forehead in the crook of his neck, nestled so comfortably between his head and shoulder. Malleus begins peppering your face and the exposed parts of your shoulder with butterfly kisses, his ragged breaths tickling your skin.

"My love..." the Prince purrs as you languidly snuggle into him, "You will never know what you've just done to me. I have felt so utterly and undeniably wanted, needed, desired." His strong arms embrace you, so gentle and loving and soft, it makes your heart beat a little bit faster and fills you up with an immense, powerful feeling. "You have made my existence feel absolutely perfect and wonderful, more so than I deserve." His voice grows thick and warm, full of tender affection as he adds, "Please, cherish me forever. I will pledge myself to you for as long as I live." 

He pulls the blindfold over his head, his eyelids fluttering open to meet your soft gaze and reveal his magnificent, emerald hues and smoldering, lust-drunk slitted pupils. You fall in love with him all over again, smiling brightly as you are greeted by your beloved Prince's elation at seeing your beautiful face once more. Malleus lifts his palm and tucks a lock of your hair behind the lobe of your ear, leaving his knuckles there for a few extra moments as he enjoys the flush and shimmer on your features, admiring the love of his life with all the admiration in the world.

Malleus' eyes spark with renewed mischief and he chuckles mischievously, the deep, smooth sound rolling with velvet menace. "No mortal has ever had this sort of control over me before. The experience was rather... illicit, and strangely beguiling. A little unexpected, however, when you nearly choked me with my own horns." A single sharp claw tips your chin upwards. "How lucky, indeed, am I to be fortunate enough to have you, the first person I ever held my heart out to, be so wicked to me. You were quite merciless tonight." His lascivious grin twists devilishly, and you find yourself enthralled with a certain mix of terror and rapture, unable to keep a devilish smirk of your own from twitching your own lips.

You had known that taking him away from the world for a brief moment of darkness would make his whole body light up like a star and let him truly lose himself to you, but you never would have predicted how viscerally it would affect him. Even so, it pleases you to have fulfilled your fae Prince's perverse needs. You kiss the tip of his nose and he smiles his sharp smile. "Now that you've revealed such a sinful aspect of yourself to me, you'll be the one beneath my power next time we indulge."

The playful menace in his smile doesn't quite mask the serious note in his voice. Malleus is absolutely determined to reciprocate the things he enjoyed receiving in equal measure. It was almost like his own hidden, dangerous desires had awoken when you dragged him down the path of depravity, and a new wave of perversion courses through him at the thought of transforming you into his own plaything. Your throat goes dry, knowing his strength and his kinky side may finally have been unshackled from its cage, and the fae might devour you without the restraint and kindness of his moralities to hold him back. His handsome features betray nothing of his sadistic plans—all you can see are his glorious, flashing eyes glimmering with mischief, and the dangerous upturn of his mouth. There's no telling how much Malleus Draconia has planned for you, and for a brief moment, you wonder if perhaps you'd created a bit of a monster with tonight's exploration.

Let me know if you all enjoyed this! Some Fun Erica Lore™ is that I have total aphantasia—I can't visualize (images or sounds) at all. So, I think because of that, I tend to be very descriptive with my words, since I can't visualize the scene in my head. Also, because I don't have visual memory, I do not remember memories or daydreams in a visual way, instead, I remember them by the feeling I felt in that moment (or the feeling I would feel if a situation was happening to me). Because I feel things so deeply, I like to convey the power of emotions in my writing. I hope I was able to elicit a strong emotional response from you. As always, thank you for reading. Every day, I continue to be awestruck by the outpouring of love and support I've received from you all. Thank you for welcoming my writing into this lovely community. Until next time, 💚 Erica Malleleothreesome

[c-erebro]

despite popular belief, i think logan would’ve kept with the times and technology. maybe he’s not a fan of cell phones, but he acknowledges its practicality

but he’s much more traditional in the sense he prefers the handy-dandy pen and paper (also isn’t it canon he writes in cursive, love that)

gets a laptop at somepoint and has like five different sticky notes. he’s the mf who gets a phone that comes with a stylus for sure

his phone brightness is generally low/at night he wears blue light glasses (bc of his heightened senses, his eyes are sensitive and get fatigued easily when looking at a screen for too long)

texts the way you would type up a paper (capatlization, grammar, the works). he does do the infamous ‘…’ after sentences though

—

Wade: wat do yew need from the storew :33

Logan: Avocados…

[nottswitch]

hii, could you do prompt 4 and 6 with theodore nott? and make it smut and fluff? thank youuu

hi babe, thanks for your request 💘 the best way that theo could help you when you feel bad tbh. ugh i need him so much…

4. "i feel awful." 6. "let me help."

warnings: 18+ mdni, oral (f receiving)

⟡ navigation ; m.lists ; theo m.list ; prompts (closed)

"principessa?”

theo was sitting at his desk when you came barging into his dorm, plopping down onto his bed with a pretty pissed off expression on your face. he turned to you, his eyebrow raised in a silent question. it was obvious that something was wrong, and he already knew exactly how to deal with this.

"i feel awful," you muttered, crossing your arms on your chest and letting out an annoyed sigh, staring into the ceiling.

"you wanna talk about it, or…?" he made an uncommitted gesture with his hand, knowing you’d get the hint right away. it was basically routine at this point.

"or," you simply answered, leaning back against the pillows and glancing at him with that look that made him understand what kind of matter it was. with a small smile, he got up from the chair and climbed onto the bed, his hands gently grabbing your thighs to spread them apart.

"let me help," he murmured against your skin as his lips made a soft trail up your inner thighs, his fingers skimming along your skin to lift your skirt up to your waist. you bit your bottom lip, feeling the pleasant heat already pooling between your legs, just like it always did – the best effect theo could ever have on you, making your mind turn to mush and forget all about whatever was troubling you in the first place.

theo made his way to your panties, his tongue sticking out to trace a flat line along your clothed folds. his lips curled up in a small satisfied smile when he felt the wetness already soaking through the fabric, savouring the taste for a second before pulling the cotton away. you let out a quiet moan when his tongue found its way directly to you center, flicking up and down a few times before swirling around your sensitive clit. the pretty sound you made was music to theo’s ears, and he felt his own need twitch between his legs. it was all about you, however, which is why he focused on eating you worries away.

his lips wrapped around your clit, giving it a couple of light sucks before sliding down again. he drew unimaginable shapes with his skillful tongue, drawing louder moans out of you, much to his delight. your hand found its way into his hair, your nails lightly grazing his head, which made him groan softly into you, the sound pleasantly vibrating through your core and sparking up your already heightened senses. your back arched off the bed, your eyes fluttering shut as you got lost in pleasure, your troubles melting away underneath theo’s loving touch.

theo’s movements got sloppier by the minute, still slow but firmer, the slurping sounds of him drinking you in mixing with your continuous moans.

"teddy, i’m-" you got cut off by your own whimper escaping your lips when his tongue slid inside your entrance, pressing into the spot that he knew would be the one to almost tip you over.

"yeah? close, amore?” he murmured against you without pulling away. you nodded, unable to produce any more words. "come, baby. let go for me."

your hand tightened in his curls as you reached the peak, theo eagerly lapping up your release and cleaning you up before crawling up to lay down next to you. his arms wrapped around your waist, bringing your bodies closer together. his fingers softly traced circles underneath your crumpled shirt as you comfortably rested your head on his chest, you breathing slowing down and letting your brain turn off in favour of mindless bliss.

"you okay?” he asked, nuzzling his face into your hair and placing a kiss against the top of your head.

"i am now," you replied, a smile appearing on your face. theo always knew exactly how to help you out.

[fanbasetwo]

✦ AFTER HOURS ┊ GUNWOOK

001. PAIRING , boyfriend ! gunwook × afab reader

002. SYNOPSIS , it has been a while since you and gunwook had taken your relationship to the next level and with growing comfort came the need to try out those things a little differently.

003. WARNING(S) , NSFW, MDNI, unprotected sex, dirty talk, blindfold, petnames, degradation, ice play, etc, lmk if i missed anything.

004. WORD COUNT , 1.1k (haven't really checked TT)

REQUEST , “ok hear me out...intimate horizons part two where they start exploring more than just vanilla” really sorry since this was deleted by mistake. MASTERLIST!!

You and Gunwook have travelled far from your first time with each other. What used to be a tentative exploration now blooms into a deep passion between you. You found new desires, new kinks, new ways to pleasure each other that you did not know existed.

Vanilla sex is so out. Today, your lovemaking is an adventure. Your lovemaking is a sensory journey of surprise and delight. You never know what Gunwook might spring on you—a blindfold, a flogger, a set of cuffs. With every meeting, you get a chance to explore the next boundary you want to break for yourself by surrendering yourself entirely to the one you trust the most.

You feel the excitement in the air today, when Gunwook takes you to the bedroom. Dark promises fill his eyes as he leads you to the edge of the bed with his electric touch. You can tell whatever it is that he has planned for you will be intense, thrilling, and unforgettable.

Your heart races as he pulls out a length of silk, the fabric cool and smooth against your skin as he wraps it around your eyes, plunging you into darkness. The loss of sight heightens your other senses — the whisper of sheets, the creak of the bed frame, the heat of Gunwook's body as he moves around you.

You shiver at the feeling of him coming to kneel behind you. His hands skim up the sides of your thighs as he pushes your dress up around your waist. “What are you going to do to me?” you breathe, equal parts nervous and excited.

Gunwook chuckles low and wicked. “Oh, baby. You have no idea. Just relax and let me take care of you.”

And with that, he begins.

You shiver with Gunwook's pressing the smooth, cold ice against your sensitive folds, a stark contrast that sends tingles racing across your skin. The blindfold keeps you in delicious suspense while your other senses are heightened as you strain to decipher the sensations dancing across your flesh.

His hands move along your inner thighs, the touch so light, yet it feels electric. You gasp as he holds the ice in place, the cubes melting and dripping down to your entrance. The chill mixes with the heat of your arousal, creating an intoxicating blend that has you squirming with need.

Just as the ice melts entirely, leaving you slippery and wanting, you feel something else. Something hot and hard nudging against your cold, swollen pussy lips. You know that shape, that texture intimately-it's Gunwook's cock, teasing you mercilessly.

“Please,” you whimper, your voice raw with desperation. “Please, I need you inside me.”

But he denies you, slapping his hard length against your slick folds instead, and the sharp sting mingles with the soothing coolness, and you gasp and writhe in the sheets, your nails digging into the fabric as your body arches silently, begging for more.

The anticipation is maddening, every nerve ending alive and screaming for release. You've never needed him more, never craved his touch with such ferocity. And yet, he keeps you on the edge, balancing you precariously between pleasure and pain, heaven and hell.

You sob quietly, with your tears pricking at the corner of your eyes behind your blindfold. You're at his complete mercy, utterly exposed and vulnerable. And in this moment, you've never felt more alive or more in contact with him.

Gunwook is fully in control, and you delight in it. You are surrendering yourself to him, trusting him completely to take you through this sensory experience. Your body is his canvas, your moans his music. And oh, how beautifully he plays you.

You wriggle under the tease of Gunwook's hard cock, the warmth a jarring contrast to the chill that lingers on your skin. “Please,” you plead once more, your voice breaking. “I can't take this anymore. I need you inside me, to fill me up.”

Gunwook chuckles lowly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. “Patience, my love. We're just getting started.”

He circles your entrance with the tip of his cock, the pressure maddening. You're so empty, aching to be filled, stretched, claimed by him. But still, he denies you, keeping you on the edge of ecstasy.

“Gunwook, please,” you whine, pushing your hips back against him desperately. “I'm yours, all yours. Take me, use me, do whatever you want to me.”

“That's my good girl,” he purrs, rewarding you with a firm smack to your ass. “You know exactly what you need, don't you?”

You nod frantically, tears of frustration leaking from beneath the blindfold. “Yes, yes I do. I need you to fuck me, to make me yours in every way.”

“And you will be,” Gunwook promises darkly. “Every inch of you, every part of your being, will be branded by my love.”

With that, he finally, finally pushes forward, breaching your entrance with one smooth thrust. You cry out as he fills you completely, stretching you deliciously. The pleasure is intense, almost too much to bear.

Gunwook moves at breakneck speed, thrusting into you with long, hard strikes. Every strike sends shocks through your body, shaking your breath out into moaning gasps. Your life becomes narrowed to the rhythm of his cock sliding back and forth through your saturated cunt, the aching sear of his palms gripping the flesh of your hips, and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh.

“You're mine,” Gunwook growls, punctuating each word with a particularly hard thrust. “My perfect little slut, my eager little whore. Say it. Tell me who you belong to.”

“I'm yours!” you cry out, your voice raw with emotion. “All yours, Gunwook. My body, my heart, my soul it's all yours.”

“That's right, baby,” he moans, his hips snapping into you with renewed vigor. “You were made for me, made to take my cock like this. No one else can make you feel this good, can they?”

“No, only you,” you pant, your words punctuated by gasps and moans. “Only you can fuck me like this, so deep, so hard. Only you can make me come undone.”

Gunwook's fingers find your clit and rub tight circles around the sensitive nub. The added stimulation is overwhelming, pushing you closer to the edge. “Come for me,” he demands, his voice rough with lust. “Come on my cock like a good girl.”

Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your inner walls clamping down around Gunwook's pistoning length. You scream his name, your body convulsing with the force of your release. The pleasure is so intense, so all-consuming, that you swear you can see stars behind your closed eyelids.

But Gunwook doesn't slow down, continuing to pound into your fluttering cunt as you ride out your high. He's chasing his own release now, grunting and growling with the effort. His rhythm becomes erratic, his thrusts shallower and faster.

“Fuck, I'm gonna come,” he warns, his voice strained. “Gonna fill this pretty pussy up with my seed. You want that, baby? Want me to mark you, claim you from the inside out?”

NOT TAKING REQUESTS FOR NOW — COMMENT HERE OR SEND AN ASK TO JOIN THE TAGLIST.

© 2024 , all rights reserved to fanbasetwo !

[eleganzadellarosa]

[9:38] - MDNI

Imagine Yunho blindfolding you, your back against the headboard legs folded back in frogtie. He’d run the cold metal gently and slowly on your inner thigh because he knows how sensitive you are there. Your whole body shivers with each passing touch and your pussy starts to convulse.

“P-please Yunho…”

He brings a hand down to slap your clit causing your body to jolt and your back to arch.

“I don’t know who Yunho is and neither do you right now slut.” Another slap.

“F-fuck, Sir. Please please give me more.”

His fingers were back to dancing across the skin on your thighs. His other hand, caressed your cheek. He thumbed at your bottom lip, dragging it down, demanding you open your mouth. When you did, he inserted two fingers to press down on your tongue. He began slowly thrusting them, reaching closer to the back of your throat each time.

“Gag like a good girl and I’ll give you what you want.”

He loved hearing you struggle, throat closing around his fingers, trying to stop the obstruction. Every time he did it, sliding as far back as he could go; you got a bit wetter and his pants got tighter. You were so focused on his fingers in your mouth that you didn’t notice his other hand stopped playing with your thigh, until you felt the pressure from him plunging two more thick fingers into your sopping pussy.

He was too horny to waste any more time and wanted you a moaning mess before he stopped the abuse on your body. You were still gagging, spit dripping down your chin and his fingers were still digging deep inside. The cold contrast of the silver jewelry that donned his fingers made your thighs shake with pleasure.

He added another finger in. They were already long but the addition of the accessories added more depth and a new layer of pleasure. Still blindfolded, purely using your senses to “see” the things happening around you. You were reaching your peak, walls clenching on his fingers begging him to let you cum, but you were smarter than that to know it wouldn’t end so quickly. You so badly wanted to close your legs to add to the pressure but they were bound tightly. First from your sloppy walls then from your mouth he removed his fingers, a whimper and pout on your lips.

He unbuckled his pants and pulled them along with his underwear down, getting annoyed with the ache and throb in his dick. You looked so pretty like this, tied up and spread just for him. Trusting him with your body; letting him do whatever for the both of your pleasure. He threw his head back feeling the cold from his fingers fight against the heat from his skin.

You felt the thick, fat head rub between your folds and concentrate on your clit. It made your body vibrate with anticipation, knowing what was to come next if you were good. Inch by inch, the absolute mind blowing stretch had your eyes crossing. His pelvis flush with yours now, you could hear how close he was based off of the low growl in the back of his throat. He kissed up your chest to your jaw and then to your ear, licking the shell of it.

His thrusts were powerful and quick; he wanted you to be ready to cum just as fast as he was ready to. Your moans filled your ears, your voice slightly strained. Your body burned with desire, senses heightened. A hand around your neck and finally the piercing bright light from the blindfold being removed. A mixture of love and lust present in his eyes as he looked at you.

“Such a good girl for me.” He whispered against your lips.

Your thighs were starting to burn from the friction of the rope; there was only so much more you could handle. He kissed you again, this time his tongue sliding into your mouth. You breathlessly moaned against his lips.

“You wanna cum?” His thrusts sped up but his tempo lost its rhythm, indicating he himself was close to spilling.

“P-please, yes” you felt so overwhelmed, constantly teetering at the edge of insanity.

He brought a hand between you and quickly rubbed harsh circles over your clit. His hand on your neck squeezed tighter and the dizzy feeling in your head mixed with his huge dick gliding through your walls made you see stars. Your toes curled and your body was stiff; your orgasm hit you hard. Not long after did you hear him grunt as his warmth filled you to the brim.

[tired-teacher-blog]

Characters : Hawks/ Fem reader

Warnings and Genre : NSFW/ 18+/ Bondage and Blindfolding (light)/ Oral Sex (Fem receiving)

Notes : I guess it has become customary for me to write a little something about Hawks on my birthday 😆

Masterlist|Second Masterlist|Third Masterlist

_ "Fuckin' perfect." a low growl left his throat as the bed creaked under his weight, your breathing was labored and body was tense while you feebly tugged at the black fluffy handcuffs around your wrists.

Your eyes moved frantically under the silk blindfold, striving to catch a glimpse of the man responsible for this.

_ "Don't struggle gorgeous, I don't want you getting hurt." it was pitch black all over, but your heightened senses were picking up his every move.

A fluffy wet feeling pecked at your belly, moving lower and lower until reaching the delicate lace trim of your panties.

_ "Wait.. Keigo." the clinking of the chain connecting your wrists was loud and piercing, but for some reason did not overpower the chuckle he let out from between your legs.

_ "What is it beautiful? Am I not allowed to express my love?" his warm breath fanned over your burning skin as he teased you again.

You shook your head fervently and arched off the bed in a pathetic attempt to get him to carry on, and the muffled laughter leaving his throat was now vibrating against your concealed pussy as he pressed his lips there.

The tension was already building up in the pit of your tummy, and you almost cursed out the delicate garment still separating you– had you trusted your voice at all, but you didn't.

_ "Okay princess, I get it." and he waisted no time stripping you off of the remaining piece hiding you away from his eager eyes.

Your skin tingled with anticipation as he kissed along your inner thigh, and even with your eyes covered, you could still imagine him perfectly: a smug smirk slapped across his face, an intense stare in his blazing golden irises, feathery blond hair in an unruly mess, and thick eyebrows knitted in concentration as he pleasured you.

It's the same face he makes each and every time he goes down on you, one that makes you wonder if he's doing it for his own pleasure or yours.

_ "Please hurry, Keigo." you could no longer hide your impatience, neither did you care to do so.

He hummed in compliance before licking a teasing line along your slit, and the unmistakable feeling of his slick tongue shook you to the core while his name left you in a strangled moan.

The bruising clutch on your thighs kept them apart as he delved in like a starved dog, sucking the sensitive clit into his mouth and growling in pure bliss.

_ "Keigo not so hard please! I'm losing my mind!" you tilted your head back while he licked his way into your throbbing walls, struggling through the fluffy restraints as you needed to lay your hands on him already.

Your body reacted on its own towards his relentless teasing as you blindly, and shakily, reached out to your beloved, one hand bumping into his shoulder while the other rested on his head, grabbing onto his thick hair before shamelessly pushing his face deeper against you, an action that seemed to drive him further to madness.

_ "Fuck, I just can't get enough of you princess." and his slurred statement was laced with obscene slurping noises and satisfied hums that vibrated deep within you.

He was barely holding on to his sanity already, and you could tell from the sound of his fluttering crimson wings as he squirmed and fiddled around while lapping up your swollen love bud and nibbling on the reddening lips surrounding it.

You ached for him, for a peek at the man doing wonders to you, but knew that you weren't allowed until he says so, after all, that was the rule of this little game of yours.

His warm hands released your thighs to slide along your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they caressed you gently.

_ "Delicious." his playful remark tickled your weeping cunt, and your trembling legs strived to encase him between them while his tongue carried on moving deep and slow within you.

_ "Keigo keep going please, please." your heart pounded harshly in your chest as you uttered the demand, and the chain rattled obnoxiously as your body jerked with his every thrust.

His fingers roamed your whole body, kneading and squeezing your flesh before slowly moving down to join his mouth, and you knew what that meant, though you weren't sure if you'd be able to handle any more of his taunting behavior as you've just about reached your limit.

_ "I'm so close!" you wished he would at least remove the blindfold so you could see his face while cumming, but you knew he wouldn't, that was the rule you agreed upon.

Your breath got caught in your throat as he retracted his tongue and kissed your clit, rubbing two fingers along your wetness to slowly ease them past your welcoming slit.

You were a wreck, shattering and twisting uncontrollably under his brute dominance as his fingers took control, and he loved having you under his mercy.

His lips kissed along your trembling thighs, and his long digits curled up to stroke that one particular sweet spot he knew too well.

_ "Wait.. please, that's too much! Keigo!" and you finally found your voice, crying out a warning followed by his name as you gave in to a splintering orgasm, shuddering violently and coating the fingers still moving inside of you before relaxing at last.

Your ears buzzed and your whole body tingled as you were still surrounded with total darkness, but then a clicking sound announced your release from the confining cuffs as they were finally unlocked.

_ "That's my girl, you've done a wonderful job sweetheart." and it was time for the blindfolds to go, leaving you facing a tantalizing view that you regretted missing this whole time.

Your boyfriend was mere inches away from you, messy hair after all you've done to it, pink cheeks that hinted at his own unfulfilled arousal, majestic wings spread out in a menacing way, and glossy lips covered with your fresh essence, a view that stirred you up and simply mesmerized you.

_ "So how's my princess feeling?" his sweet smile coaxed your own to appear.

_ "Perfect.." and you breathed out drowsily, eyes already half closed.

_ "Well I hope you're not trying to sleep already, because we have just begun." he chuckled delightfully while pressing his stiff bulge against your thigh.

You've had your fun already, and it was time for him to have his own..

Dividers by : @/cafekitsune

[twinkling-moonlillie]

Hello! I saw your post saying that you accept requests and mostly for Hawks rn. As u can tell from my username I LOVE this man, so I was thinking if you can write something about the reader using the Safeword during the act with him? Maybe he hurt her without meaning to? And it turns all fluffy with aftercare! You can ignore this if you want and I honestly don't even know if Im writing this in the right place or not it's my first time sorryyy 😭

Aftercare - Hawks x reader drabble

Author's note: Sorry this took so long haha, been busy with life. But!! I loved this idea! I love writing fluffy and doting Keigo. ALSO, here is my link if you want to support me financially <3 It's totally not necessary but money is super tight right now and I desperately need to get out of my household :|

Warnings: Mentions of sex (PIV), slight cursing, mdni. Reader is afab. Not thoroughly proofread

Sex with Keigo was always amazing, extraordinary even. You were lucky that you landed a partner as dutifully devoted to you and your pleasure as Keigo. Instead of giving yourself to some selfish prick whose love was dependent on how well you sucked their dick and how readily you were to spread your legs, you freely let Keigo’s soft touch, warm smiles, and protectiveness melt your heart. 

He often spent nights in between your thighs without so much as taking off his work pants, without expecting anything in return. His lips and fingers worked orgasm after orgasm from you. Your hands gently intertwine with his as he drags his thick cock against your sensitive walls, whispering murmurs of praise, light teasing, and - most importantly - consent checks. Keigo mentioned more than once that your enthusiastic consent made his dick dripping wet with precum.��

All of these facts did not aid the cognitive dissonance in your mind though  as he mercilessly pounded into you, his breath hitching every time he bottomed out; it was so rough it hurt, body haphazardly molded into whatever shape he pleased. The breeding season always heightened his sex drive. He needed this. What kind of partner would you be if you put your own needs in front of his own? 

So you did your best to take the ruthless pounding. Tears dripped down your cheeks. The taste of blood filling your senses as you bite your lip. 

“F-fuck, such a good slut for me, hm?” He rasps. “Gonna fuck you ‘til you’re pregnant.”

Deep breath. 

You could do this

Another deep breath.

You could do this.

And…

You…really can’t do this. 

“K-kei s-stop, ‘s too much …” your voice was too weak and breathy for your liking. “H-hawks”

Keigo’s hips jutted to a stop, half of himself inside you, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Earlier in your relationship, both of you decided on his hero name as a safe word. There was a strict detachment between Keigo’s hero work and normal life, so much so that he detested being called Hawks in your shared home. 

It took another moment for him to understand what happened, the lust fogging his mind pattering away. “Shit, baby…” he slowly pulled the rest of himself out of your spent hole, your body flinching. “Songbird, are you okay?”

As much as you tried to speak, your tongue was like lead, throat filled with cotton. Your sobs sounded more akin to choked babbles. The tears dripping down your face was more than enough though to clue Keigo in. 

“M’sorry” You managed. “S-so sorry, I-i know ‘s your rut but-“

Keigo cut you off with a gentle kiss, his feathers swiftly taking over all your senses as he rolled you into his warm arms. “You did so good for me, love. You don’t need to be sorry. Doesn’t matter if I’m in rut or not,” he pressed another light kiss on the crown of your forehead, “your safety and happiness is top priority.” 

“I wanted to do good for you” you mumbled. “You always take care of me…just wanted to do the same…”

“And you did, songbird.” He titled your chin so he can gaze into you directly. His eyes were always sharp like daggers, but when you stared at him all you saw was his adoration. “I promise it’s not even a big deal. I don’t want you thinking that just because it’s breeding season that I can do whatever I want to you.” 

Keigo’s thumb worked to wipe away the remnants of your tears, cooing praise until the saturation made you giggle. Gentle kisses were frequently exchanged. He failed to mention how this time of the year made him extra doteful. 

“Here, let’s run you a bath, yeah? I’ll start it and fetch you some water, okay baby? You just stay there and be pretty for me, let me take care of you.”