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[dollardrool]

i deserve to be drugged and blindfolded, hands tied behind my back, and abandoned in an alleyway to wander the streets naked begging for help. of course, no one would help me. why would they, when I'd be the perfect victim to fuck a load into after a long day? men grope my tits and slap my ass as i stumble around, sometimes being knocked to the ground and made to suck their grimy dicks, other times being held up by my bound hands as they pound my cunt or ass. by the end of the night I'm too exhausted to move, collapsed in an alley covered in cum and piss to wait until someone takes pity on me and lets me go

[barewingthin]

i want someone to hurt my cunny for me, shoving progressively bigger things inside it until i can’t take it anymore and i’m bleeding a bit, when im stretched at my widest, you plug me so i’m staying stretched and uncomfortable, if i squirm even a little it’s gonna hurt even more so i have no choice to stay still and take it

[fishybusiness]

it's so easy to make my toy happy. all i need to do is tie it up and piss on it 🚽

[pullup-baby]

excuse me sir….i am politely asking for pussy spanks on my soaked pullup please

[ambush-park]

[mastersoverminds-6]

I'm a bit bored. Why don't you come be porn for me so I can jack off. Maybe I'll even finish on you if you're good.

[ohclaire]

tw suicidal ideation

Reader who is passively suicidal. Who maybe doesn’t even realize it, but it bleeds into everything.

You’ve always had a dark, dry sense of humor that was easy to brush aside, but the first time this habit was glaringly obvious was on an op when you were almost hit by an enemy vehicle.

In this line of work it was natural to contemplate your death. Maybe you did it too much. So when that car was speeding your way, your first thoughts weren’t how to get out of the way, or survival, but rather how painful this death would be. Not because you wanted to avoid death, but that ideally it wouldn’t be that bad. So you didn’t move.

Instead of the unforgiving force of the car, you were hit with the warm body of Ghost shoving you out of the way. You both land hard on the dirt out of the road, but there’s no moment to speak as you’re immediately under fire once more. It’s like the impact kicked you back into gear, refocusing you on the objective and letting you continue fighting.

It doesn’t mean the boys didn’t notice. And it doesn’t mean they let you off easy. Once you’re back to safety, Simon drags you into the makeshift war room, basically tossing you in.

“What the hell was that, sergeant?” His voice is hard. Loud. He’s mad.

The rest of the team trickles in with varying degrees of dread on their faces.

You don’t feel much of anything. “What was what?”

Simon scoffs, looking away in exasperation briefly before crossing his arms and stepping into your space to look in your eyes, “you know exactly what.”

You’re confused. Why the hell would he care that much? Your eyebrow barely twitches. “Look I get I fucked up okay, I’m sorry you had to save my ass.” You really don’t give two shits that he saved you. If that had been the end of the line for you, you would’ve been okay with that.

Everyone releases their air heavily, the room shifts. You don’t get why, it’s not like they haven’t had incidents like this themselves—close calls.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass that I had to cover you, that’s what I’m here for, sergeant. I care that it looked like you weren’t going to do anything.” He’s speaking softer now like…like you’ll break. That just pisses you off.

“So what, I froze?” You take a step back, arms crossing over your chest, angling away from them.

“You don’t freeze.”

There’s a heavy silence that sneaks its way into every corner of the room before Johnny breaks it.

“It…it looked like you wanted to get hit.”

The scoff that leaves you is unconvincing. “I wasn’t…” you can’t finish the thought. Honestly you don’t know what you were thinking. You just know sometimes you get tired. And sometimes you think the easiest way to get rid of the ache is leaving.

You’re not looking at them when Simon comes back and grabs your shoulder. He forces you to look at him, “‘s not happening again. Clear? We need you.”

You just nod.

They begrudgingly let it go. Who among them isn’t a little fucked up? But from then on you’re under a tight watch. All they find are more red flags.

You don’t take care of yourself, leaving eating and sleeping and showering to the last minute. You don’t seem to do anything you enjoy, no hobbies outside of duty. When you have time off they don’t see you and they assumed you left base, but then they see you emerge haggard from your room three days into their leave. Had you even been out of your room before then?

They don’t say anything because they know you’ll deflect and scatter, but they’re scared. Yes, you were their teammate but it’s become more than that. Even with the lack of energy you seem to display, you’re still unrelentingly there for them.

When Johnny got shot and miraculously lived, semi-paralyzed, and had to do months of PT, you were there. At every appointment, staying with him to take care of him and make sure he did his exercises.

When Simon went to his own dark places, you were there. Finding him half-delirious from nightmares in the rec room and making sure he made it back to his room. Giving him water and someone to talk to, making sure he didn’t go too deep. Which is why he was confused you couldn’t recognize the signs in yourself.

When Kyle’s mom unexpectedly passed, you were there. You booked the flights, packed his bags, kept him standing during the funeral. You negotiated for his extended PTO, never letting anyone mistreat him when he was down.

And when John was court marshaled for what happened with Shepherd, you were there. You helped Simon keep the team together, coordinated with Kate to keep him informed, you even helped formulate his case.

They might say loyalty was your fatal flaw. They just wished you could see these signs in yourself and give yourself the same treatment you gave others. But if you couldn’t, they would.

It was easier to see the signs now. You volunteering for the risky roles on ops, offering to be bait, choosing hand-to-hand encounters when you could’ve easily used your gun.

They’re lost. They don’t know what to do. If they stop you from taking these roles, chances are you’ll say they’re coddling you. If they take you off duty entirely, they might lose you forever. How do they balance supporting you and helping you?

They start with words. Making sure you understand how much the risks you’re taking affect them.

It…confuses you again. You didn’t realize they gave this much of a shit if you lived or died. You kinda just thought you were teammates. Any deeper feelings toward them you pushed down because you knew it wouldn’t be possible.

But when you’re strapping in to be repelled off a cliff, Johnny stops you. He grabs your shoulders and forces you to look in his eyes. “Yer comin’ back, ya hear? We need ya.”

You don’t even get time to respond before Kyle is swooping in and kneeling in front of you, finishing strapping your harness and double-checking the other connectors. He looks up at you and you try to ignore the image that invokes. “You heard Johnny, love, we need you to come back.” He’s smiling that blinding-white smile that could probably cause world peace.

You figure your COs will be as stoic as always, but instead, John places a heavy, warm hand on your head, giving it a pat. He takes a deep breath before his hand comes down to the back of your neck and tells you, “we trust you sarge, come back to us.”

Your brain is basically empty trying to process all the excess affection when Simon brings a hand up to fix the hair John just rustled. He’s never done that before. You never imagined him ever doing that. You can feel the warmth of his skin on your forehead through the glove. “We need you back. Rog?”

You can’t even think before you’re nodding and saying “rog” back.

You’re halfway down the cliff before you even register half of what happened. Your chest is warm, and you think your cheeks are too. You can’t place the feeling but it feels almost like the ice in your body is thawing, like you’re coming back to yourself after being gone for too long.

It doesn’t cause too much permanently the first time, but they keep doing it. Every single time before an op, every time you volunteer for some risky procedure, hell even randomly at lunch now. Some of it is starting to worm into your brain that maybe you have people that care about you. That would care if you were gone.

It’s not a cure, not a quick fix, but it’s making you rethink some of the things you had taken as fact—like that you are expendable. They keep insisting, silently and loudly and in all the space between, that you aren’t. Maybe you should start to listen.

[littlemissomega]

Little Bunny

dark!Mommy!Wanda x bunnyhybrid!fem!reader

Summary: Wanda finds a little bunny in the woods and decides to never let her go.

Warnings: 18+, DARK, non con, dub con, kidnapping, tail play, chaining (briefly), s€x toys (vibrating carrot strap), dumbification, overstimulation, squirting, mommy k!nk, oral (strap receiving?), bunny hybrid (part human part bunny, kinda human with some bunny characteristics), crying during sex, minimal foreplay, fairly through aftercare, no use of Y/N, a little praise k!nk, implied chubby/plus size reader , primal play

Author's Note: this is pretty dark with a little fluff sprinkled at the end. It is dark and 18+. Please read the tw. If you think this could be triggering/too mature for you, PLEASE DON'T READ IT. you are responsible for your own media consumption; please be responsible and mindful of your mental health🩷

Bunny is all human except: bunny ears, bunny paws instead of feet (fur below the knees), slight bunny nose, bunny senses (hearing, sight), bunny scent glands and instincts, bunny tail

Masterlist

(all credit for art goes to original creators. This is just closest to what I imagined, but plz customize your character)

The sounds of Bunny’s whines echo through the cold basement. She’s crouched in the corner, her legs tucked under her and elbows bent into her chest. She’s trembling faintly, whining from the cold floor and new, unfamiliar space.

Her back paw thumps against the floor and she hears the basement door open. The around her ankle rattles at the movement. The red haired woman climbs down the stairs, a box in hand.

“Hi, little bunny,” the woman purrs.

Bunny huffs and whines, pushing herself further into the ground and against the wall, trying to make herself smaller. Her ears are straight bak.

“Don’t be little, Malen'kiy zaychik (little bunny)” the woman tsks.

“You chased me! You kidnapped me!” Bunny whimpers, voice trembling.

“Sweet bunny, that’s what you get for hopping around in that cute little dress so close to dark! If I hadn't snatched you up, someone else would! A pretty little hybrid like you is too valuable,” she responds condescendingly.

“Who are you? What do you want with me?”

“Well, my name is Wanda, but you call me Mommy or ma’am,” the woman-Wanda, says.

Wanda drags a folding metal chair close to Bunny. She cries and presses her hands to her ears at the screeching sound.

“Oh, I’m sorry Bunny! Mommy’s gotta remember that you’re a sensitive little thing,” Wanda coos, sitting down in the chair and setting the box down on the ground next to her.

“Please let me go,” Bunny cries.

“I don’t think so. If I snatch up a pretty little bunny, I don’t intend to let her go,”

Wanda takes a moment to study the hybrid. She has long, white rabbit ears that are pinned back. Her face is mostly human, other than her slightly bigger eyes and pink button nose.

She has human hands, but Wanda sees a flash of her distinctly bunny hind paws tucked under her. And the most intriguing part is her fluffy bunny tail, peeking out from a small hole in the back of her dress.

Despite her earlier statement, today was not the first time Wanda saw the pretty bunny hybrid. She spotted her months ago, picking berries from a strawberry bush. Wanda spent the next couple months watching her, learning her schedule and mannerisms. She also did extensive research on bunny hybrids, learning everything she could about them and how to care for them.

That's one of the reasons Wanda knew it was so important that she chased down her little bunny, catching her to assert her dominance before snatching her up.

Wanda places her forearms against her knees and lets her hands hang down closer to Bunny’s face. Bunny’s nose twitches, unable to resist the urge to scent her. She smells of cherries and dark wood, with light notes of vanilla and…strawberries?

Bunny tuckers her head closer to her chest, trying to hide her nose from Wanda’s alluring scent.

Wanda reaches a hand out like she’s going to pet Bunny’s forehead, but she snaps out, flashing her adorable buck teeth at her.

“Very naughty,” Wanda scolds, grabbing her face with her thumb tucked under her chin and fingers on her nose, holding her mouth shut. Bunny whines against her hold. Wanda uses her grip on Bunny’s face to drag her up from her crouch position so she’s kneeling, her weight shifted back on her paws. Bunny struggles against her hold, thumping her paw against the floor and pushing against her with her hands. Wanda grabs her wrists with her other hand, pinning them together in her lap.

“Look at me,” Wanda growls.

Bunny looks up at her with wide, fearful eyes.

“You’re going to be a good baby for Mommy. No biting, no fighting, no bratting off. If you’re good, you’ll be rewarded. If you’re naughty, you’ll be punished,”

Bunny trembles harder in her grip. Wanda releases her jaw but keeps her hold on her wrists.

“Punished?” Bunny squeaks.

“Yes, Malen'kiy zaychik (little bunny). And I promise you won’t like it,”

Wanda reaches up and strokes from between her eyebrows to her hairline. Bunny whines as she continues to pet her sensitive skins.

“Are you thirsty, bunny?” Wanda asks.

Bunny nods hesitantly. Wanda releases her hands and opens the box slightly, pulling out a water bottle and closing it before Bunny can peek inside. Bunny expects Wanda to hand the bottle to her after opening it, but Wanda keeps a tight hold on it.

“Open,” Wanda orders.

“What?”

“Open your mouth, silly bunny,”

Bunny rises up on her knees to get closer to the bottle before obeying. Wanda takes a sip of water before leaning forward, hovering her lips over Bunny’s parted ones. Bunny tries to pull away, but Wanda grabs the back of her sensitive neck, holding her in place as she spits the water in her mouth.

Most of the water dribbles out of Bunny’s mouth and down her chest. But when Wanda holds her mouth closed, Bunny chokes it down, letting out little coughs.

“That’s yucky!” Bunny huffs, “I can drink myself,”

“You do what I say you can do, and I saw you’re too much of a dumb little bunny to drink without Mommy’s help. See, you still made a mess even with Mommy’s help. And it’s not yucky,” Wanda chides.

Bunny licks her chapped lips, realizing she’s still thirsty.

“Do you want more, little bunny?”

Bunny nods again.

“Okay, don’t make a mess this time,” Wanda orders before taking another sip of water and transferring it into Bunny’s mouth.

The water is still cool despite being in Wanda’s mouth first, and helps lower Bunny’s body temperature. She swallows it all this time, not letting any spill. They repeat this several times, and her cheeks flush every time Wanda’s lips get so close to hers.

“Good bunny,” Wanda praises as she sits back on her hanches.

Wanda notes that Bunny’s ears have started to relax, not so pinned back anymore. Wanda keeps her hand firm on the back of her neck while using the other to gently grab one of her ears. Bunny moans, her hands shooting up to grab Wanda’s hand as she starts massaging the end of it.

“No,” Wanda orders, the warning in her tone scaring Bunny enough to drop her hands, bawling them into fists.

“T-those are very sensitive,” Bunny whines as Wanda continues stroking and massaging up her ear to the base.

“I know, sweet girl,”

Purrs and little moans slip from Bunny and her eyes flutter shut and Wanda starts gently scratching behind the base of her ear.

“Thereeeee you go, relax, Malen'kiy zaychikm” Wanda croons.

Wanda moves to stroking from her forehead and across the top of her head. Bunny’s eyes open again.

“Are you hungry?” Wanda asks.

“Yes,” Bunny admits quietly.

“Do you like carrots, malyshka?” Wanda asks.

Bunny doesn’t know what malyshka means, but she nods. She watches in confusion as Wanda unzips the top of her pants and pulls out a large carrot. Bunny has never seen a carrot like this. Yes, it’s orange and tapered at the end, but it also has odd bumps and ridges on it. It also appears to be connected to Wanda’s pelvis. She seems a sliver of green fabric running along her hips and thighs.

“Go ahead, bunny,” Wanda encourages her.

Bunny places her hands on Wanda's thighs, leaning forward. Her brow is creased in confusion as she tries to nibble at the tip. But it’s hard, some plastic or silicon material.

Before Bunny can pull back, Wanda shoves her further on it back the back of her head. Bunny cries out around the foreign object, struggling to pull back and pushing against Wanda’s thighs.

“Be good, Bunny,” Wanda warns, “Just get it nice and slick in your pretty mouth.

Bunny looks up at her with teary confused eyes. She squirms as she chokes and gags around it, trying to pull back for a breath of air.

“Breathe through your nose, dumb little bunny,” Wanda chuckles.

Bunny tries to relax enough to obey, still fighting weakly against Wanda’s grip. The not-carrot feels weird in her mouth. Spit pools in her mouth with her not being able to swallow, and she gags harder as Wanda pushes it further in her mouth.

“I thought Bunnies couldn't throw up, but you sound like you’re about to prove me wrong,” Bunny fights harder as it nudges against the back of her throat and Wanda pushes her further on it. Tears stream from her eyes as it slides slightly into her throat.

“So pretty, baby, just take it,” Wanda coos, lacing her fingers in her hair with her thumbs brushing her ears.

Bunny’s nose brushes Wanda’s pelvis as she finally reaches the base. The darker notes of Wanda’s scent grow stronger, and her note twitches with curiosity.

Wanda finally releases Bunny, and she wrenches back, coughing and spluttering and gasping. She falls back on her butt, arms moving back to catch herself as she struggles to catch her breath. Her hair falls in front of her face, hiding her flushed cheeks.

Wanda spots one of Bunny’s soft paws peeking out from where her dress pools around her. Wanda reaches down and grabs it, pulling it into her laps for examination. Bunny gasps, trying to pull it back, but Wanda is too strong.

“What are you doing?” Bunny coughs. She squirms harder as Wanda strokes the pink pads of her paw.

“I’ve gotta make sure my silly baby didn’t hurt her little paws trying to run away!” Wanda explains like it’s obvious.

Wanda strokes up the soft, silky fur on her paws and up her calves, until it gets sparer and transitions to human skin at her thighs. Bunny pulls back, squeezing her thighs together. Wanda just grabs the other paw, repeating the same process as Bunny finishes recovering from her wheezing fit.

“M-mommy?” Bunny starts tentatively. Wanda smiles at her smart bunny using the right name.

“Yes, sweet bunny?”

“Please let me go home. I’m scared, and I don’t like this, and I’m so cold-” Bunny stutters, still trembling.

“You’re cold?” Wanda asks, sensing an opportunity.

Bunny nods, looking up at her with those wide, teary, innocent eyes.

“Let me warm you up, malyshka,”

Wanda pulls Bunny off the floor by her waist and into her lap. Her thighs bracket Wanda’s

“No-” Bunny starts squirming.

“Dumb little bunnies don’t get to say no. Let Mommy warm you up,”

Wanda forces her further against her chest so her head is tucked under Wanda’s chest. Bunny whines as that odd carrot digs into her soft tummy uncomfortably. Bunny hates anything and anyone touching her tummy, but especially that mean carrot.

Wanda takes her time, rubbing up and down Bunny’s spine and head. Her hands move down to her plush thighs as Bunny starts to relax. Bunny’s ears twitch and she squirms, but Wanda holds her in place as she rubs and massages.

Wanda's hands loop around to cup Bunny’s ass through the thin material of her dress. Her fingers graze her fluffy tails, and a squeal slips from Bunny’s lips. She writhes in Wanda’s arms, pushing against her chest.

“Stay still,” Wanda orders, clamping an arm around her waist. She pushes the other hand to grab Bunny’s wrist before transferring them to the hand around her waist to hold them behind her back.

Bunny whines and bucks, her chest bounces in front of Wands as she starts gently stroking her tail.

“Mommy don’t!” Bunny squeals.

“Dumb bunnies don’t get to tell Mommy what to do,”

Wanda grips the base of her tail, and Bunny lets out a guttural moans, her head lools back. Wanda can see Bunny’s nipples turn hard against her dress as she massages the base of her tail, and she bucks her hips harder. She has to resist the urge to pull one of those hard peaks into her mouth.

“Mommy, I don’t like that, feels funny!”

“Funny how, bunny?” Wanda smirks.

“Hot in my tummy! Feels too much!”

Wanda had heard bunny hybrids could cum from tail play alone, but she didn’t realize just how responsive her sweet bunny would be to the simplest touches everywhere.

“Take it, malyshka,”

Bunny cries and moans as that funny hole she couldn’t figure out of the purpose for grows increasingly wetter. The knot in her tummy shatters, and pleasure pulses through her whole body. That hole claims around nothing, and her core throbs.

“Good bunny,” Wanda purrs, finally releasing her twitching little tail.

Bunny collapses against Wanda’s chest, whining in confusion at what her body just did. Wanda reaches between their bodies, grabbing that mean carrot and sliding it under her dress. Wanda slots it between her thighs, rights against that sopping hole and Bunny bolts upright.

“Mommy, what are you doing?”

“Giving you something to hop on. Isn’t that what bunnies like to do?” Wanda asks innocently.

Wanda nudges the first inch into Bunny, and she cries out at the burning stretch.

“No, Mommy, that hurts!” she cries, eyes tearing up again.

“You can take it, baby. Your little pussy is so wet,” Wanda purrs.

Wanda uses her arm around Bunny’s waist to slowly push her further onto the carrot.

“Mommy, stop being a meanie!” Bunny cries as the burning grows.

Wanda looks at her, a dangerous spark in her eyes.

“A meanie?” Wanda asks, with deceptive calmness.

Bunny sniffles, tears still streaking down her face.

“Here’s what a meanie would do,”

Before Bunny can react, Wanda slams her the rest of the way down on the carrot. Bunny screams and collapses against her chest, body jolting as pain and heat ripples through her.

The stretch is so intense, she can barely feel anything else. Her sobs shake her body violently, the trembling starting back.

“Mommy, hurts so bad, I’m scared,” Bunny cries.

“I know, bunny, let Mommy makes it better,”

Wanda reaches down, finding a sensitive spot at the base of her thighs. Bunny’s squirming slows as Wanda’s thumb starts massaging that little button. Hot sparks of pleasure sneak through between the pain.

“What’s that, bunny?” Wanda purrs in her ear.

“'Still hurts,” Bunny sniffles.

“Let's try this,” Wanda coos.

The carrot starts vibrating inside of bunny. A surprised moan slips from her lips at the sensation. The burning pain shifts to an uncomfortable fullness with sparks of pleasure. She squirms at the sensation, and pain shoots through her again.

“What’s that?” Bunny asks.

“Don't think, just feel,”

Wanda gives Bunny a while to adjust to the fullness and vibration, continuing to gently massage her swollen clit. She waits until Bunny starts purring and her thighs are trembling before speaking again.

“Here's what’s going to happen. You’re gonna be a good bunny and hop on Mommy’s carrot,”

“What do you mean?” Bunny sniffles, wiping her tear dampened cheeks.

“You’re gonna do this,”

Wanda pulls Bunny slowly off the carrot before sliding her back down. Bunny cries out at the burning and stretch, tinted with sparks of pleasure.

“Mommy, I can’t-”

“Yes you fucking can. And you better, or Mommy will have to do it herself, and I will not be gentle,” Wanda emphasizes her words by pulling Bunny off the carrot and slamming her back down. Bunny cries out, dropping her forehead against Wanada’s shoulder.

She braces her hands against Wanda’s shoulders before experimentally pulling off the carrot an inch. She whines at the sensation, accidently sliding back on too hard. The vibrations ripple through her core, scrambling her brain.

“Come on, bunny, you can do better than that,”

Bunny’s face and tummy feel so hot, but she keeps trying. She whines and moans as she pulls off a few inches before sliding back down. Her fingers turn white at her tight grip on Wanda.

“Mommy, my tummy feels funny again,” she cries.

“Keep going,” Wanda orders, leaning back to watch her flushed face.

Another orgasm hits Bunny and her whole body shakes. Hot licks through her and she cries as the vibrations turn painful. She tries to keep lifting her hips, but her thighs are shaking so violently she can. She flops against Wanda’s chest in defeat.

“Please Mommy, I can’t, ‘s too much,” Bunny hiccups into her neck, breathing in her comforting scent.

“Are you getting tired?” Wanda mocks. Bunny misses the mocking tone and just whines pathetically.

“You need Mommy’s help? Can’t even fuck yourself on Mommy’s strap without her help?” Bunny nods again, not understanding half the words, but desperate for…something.

Something only Wanda can give you.

“I’ve got you, baby. Mommy should have known you were too much of a dumb baby bunny for this,” Wanda coos, gripping Bunny’s hips.

Bunny’s moans turn guttural and squeals slip from her lips as starts using her hips to pull her on and off the carrot- or strap? At a brutal pace. With the fast pace and without Wanda stroking that place between the thighs, the pain sneaks back in. But the vibrations intensify, as if to compensate. The sound of slapping skin and Bunny’s sopping pussy fill the room.

Wanda reveals in Bunny’s sounds of pleasure, bucking her hips up into her. Bunny fights weakly as the knot in her stomach starts tightening again, but Wanda focuses her to take every thrust. Their breath comes in pants, each of Bunny’s hitched with whines and squeaks.

“Mommy, stop! ‘m have an accident!” Bunny squeals, pushing against her. She shifts her hips, but that just makes Wanda hit a spot inside her that makes her see stars.

“Trust me, bunny, take it,” Wanda pants, fucking her harder.

Bunny's throat feels raw from all her moaning and screaming. She paws at Wanda's shoulders and back, but she doesn't let up. Wanda forces Bunny’s mouth to her, connecting their lips. Bunny freezes in confusion, keeping her lips pressed shut. Wanda nips at Bunny’s bottom lip. When her lips part with a gasp, Wanda takes the opening to slip her tongue into her mouth.

She swallows every whine and cry and pleads directly from Bunny's lips as her orgasm washes over her. Bunny pulses around the strap as the tightness snaps and she squirts fluids all over both of them. She cries into Wanda’s mouth as she works her through it.

“‘s too much, Mommy,” Bunny slurs as Wanda pulls back, slumping back into her chest.

“You did good, Malyshka,” Wanda praises as she slides the strap out of her.

Despite her overstimulation, Bunny whines at the loss. Wanda smiles at the unconscious sound, wrapping her arms around her sweet girl.

She holds Bunny there for a while, stroking her hair and ears. Bunny starts nuzzling into her neck, unconsciously scenting her with the brush of the scent glands under her skin. She whimpers at the odd feeling, but continues groggily.

Wanda unlocks the chain around Bunny’s ankle and sets it down as quietly as possible. She massages her ankle and back paw, ensuring there's full circulation and range of motion.

Bunny’s limbs twitch as Wanda stands up with her in her arms, but doesn't have the energy to fight as Wanda carries her upstairs to a bathroom. She strips Bunny of her spoiled dress as the tub fills before getting in with her Bunny melts into the comfort Wanda provides. She drifts to sleep, but Wanda stays awake. She enjoys every second, taking the time to map out every inch of her body while cleaning her.

She catalogs what spots make her bunny whine or twitch in her sleep, which ones make her ears pin back and nose twitch in discomfort. When Wanda strokes her soft tummy, her bunny stirs, fighting weakly and groaning. Wanda stops, but remembers the spot for later inspection.

Wanda washes and conditions her hair and fur, making sure she doesn't have any mites or ticks from her time alone in the woods. But her sweet girl had been careful, having no noticeable wounds or bugs.

Wanda wakes her occasionally, forces her to take little bites of cut up apple, celery, and blueberries. Bunny turns her nose up, whining sleepily each time, forcing her sweet pet to chew and swallow, checking her mouth is empty before letting her drift back to sleep.

When Wanda’s fingers start to become pruny, she lifts her pet out of the tub. She positions her like a limp doll on the counter, patting her down with soft towels and gently brushing her hair and fur. She braids her hair into one plait before carrying her to bed.

Wanda knows this can't become a habit- it's still too early- but she puts her pet in her own bed for the night. After all, she did earn it. Bunny nuzzles into the soft blankets, sighing in contentment.

Wanda pulls Bunny into her arms, and she snuggles into her. Wanda knows in that moment- even if her bunny doesn't het- that she'll have her trained as the pet little pet in no time

Masterlist

Did you like not having Y/N (used Bunny instead)

yes

no

idgaf🙂

Voting ended onApr 29

Taglist:

@liidiaaag

@flourishandblotts-inc

@aagn360

@smromanoff

@fynnwolff

[the-sensitive-sadist]

I get off so much on spanking it almost feels genuinely problematic. I'm obsessed with the unbelievable power I hold over you when you're pinned over my knee, tied to a spanking bench, or bent over something, vulnerable and waiting to be painfully used. I constantly think about the progression from surprised yelps with each slap, to pained screams and tormented moans. I adore the way skin goes from a pretty shade of pink to a dark, glorious red, to deeper, beautifully dark purples and greens.

I love how pretty bruises look the day after a hard spanking. I love changing my tempo of swats, slowly down or unexpectedly speeding up so you don't have any time to brace before I hit you. I love groping your ass and digging my fingers into the marks I'm leaving on you. I love pulling your hair and making you kiss me while I beat you, sticking my tongue in your mouth while I slap you again and again. I love biting your ass between rough swats. I love groping your chest when I hit you, so you really feel like a powerless piece of meat. I love pausing for a few seconds and teasing you between your thighs, playing with your crotch for a few seconds or even sticking my fingers inside you before I start hitting you all over again. I love forcing toys inside you and spanking you while you keep them inside you. I love forcing your head down and making you gag for me while I hurt you. I love sweetly talking you through the pain, telling you how gorgeous you look when I fuck you up.

[flutterbvnny]

i’m sorry but someone pressing their boot against my bladder until i piss myself then blaming me for not being able to hold it because i’m just a dumb pet/kid is always gonna be the hottest thing ever

[lamblittlesister]

big brother pinning my hands above my head and slapping my cunt after he catches me touching myself in his bed

[yellowlikelemons]

Can I be your creepy incel stalker, in deftones t-shirts and oversize flannels? Can I be the boy that gets stoned behind the bleachers, all to gather up the courage needed to follow you (at a distance) from class to your table at lunch? Can I be the edgy, pentagram-wearing dude that grows fixated on you and the way you're so... clean? So sweet, shy, normal? Can I be the guy that grows deeply hateful torwards your boyfriend, fantasizing about bashing his head into the lockers after school for defiling you? Naive and innocent you, who deserves someone so much deeper than that shallow dick? Can I please?

[chromeplatedpuppy]

last night, i got to worship daddy’s balls and taint while he jerked off to other women with the expensive fleshlight i bought him <33 no better feeling than the silicone smushing into my face with every stroke, reminding me i can’t even compare to a piece of plastic. he even let me lick his ass!!! he’s so good to me <3 he can deny my cunt forever if he’s going to let me worship him :3

[societyfolklore]

Open Up Baby

Title: Open Up Baby Pairing: Tony Stark  x Female Reader

Summary: Tony Stark straps you into a StarkTech-compatible bench for a private demonstration of his newest toys- complete with biometric feedback,

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings:  / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, SMUT… BDSM/Restraints/Bondage, custom tech ball gag, toys (Egg vibe, anal beads, dildo)  Overstimulation, Toy fucking/Machine-assisted thrusting, Filthy talk (Tony can't shut up), AI assists with data tracking, clinical observation, forced openness, Sensory overload

A/N: my entry for  @avengers-assemble-bingo  for April Kinky Bingo… Well this one turned into a whole thing.. Square: B2- Open Up Baby  Card Number: KB003

You were already strapped to the bench- back arched, thighs spread wide in glossy chrome stirrups, wrists bound snug in Stark-grade cuffs that didn’t budge an inch. The synthetic leather beneath you was cool against your skin, but your body was already starting to heat with anticipation. The bench itself shifted slightly with every movement, like it was reading your tension, calibrating every twitch of your muscles into data Tony could access later.

You could hear the soft hum of the room’s ambient systems, the low mechanical whirrs, the faint electric pulse of tech running in standby, and underneath it all, Tony’s voice. He hummed absently as he moved around you, flicking through translucent holoscreens that floated in the air, readable only to him. Light glinted off his arc reactor through the thin black shirt he wore, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, veins flexing with every subtle flick of his fingers.

He looked like a scientist. Or a surgeon. No, a goddamn artist.

“You look tense,” he murmured, stepping in close, his fingers grazing your jaw with a feather-light touch. “That won’t do. We need to get a clean read. No clenched teeth, no locked jaws. Just you- open and…relaxed.”

He held up a sleek piece of tech. A mix of leather and metal. To you it looked like a ball gag. That wasn’t just a gag. It was his gag. Something custom. Personal. Laced with Stark Industry Tech.

“Open up, baby. Gotta install the biometric reader. It’s not science without a baseline.”

You hesitated, lips twitching. Just for a second. But he didn’t push. He just waited you out, smirk deepening, one brow arched like he had all the time in the world. That cocky, knowing gaze made you squirm even before anything touched you. Your breath hitched. And then you parted your lips.

“There we go,” he said, tone thick with approval as he slid the gag into place. It clicked against your teeth, snug and firm. A soft vibration flickered across your tongue as it locked in pushing the muscle down.

Friday’s voice chimed in overhead, calm and clinical.

“Gag calibration complete. Biometric sync active. Tracking vocal response, saliva levels, and tongue pressure.”

Tony leaned down, brushing his lips across your cheek in a whisper of a kiss. “Good girl. Now let’s get to work.”

He started with the egg.

Sleek. Silver. Pulsing faintly in his hand like it had a heartbeat of its own. The metal shimmered under the clinical lights, smooth and polished, shaped with the kind of precision that only Stark could deliver. He turned it over once, twice, like he was admiring a prized gadget- one that he was particularly proud of.

He showed it to you like a doctor unveiling a revolutionary new tool- calm, confident, deeply amused. Except this wasn’t a sterile exam room, and the look in his eyes wasn’t professional. His smirk told you he already knew what kind of mess this thing would reduce you to.

"This is your warm-up," he said, voice low and playful. "Phase One. Internal warming protocol. Testing receptivity. Calibration through heat and pulse response."

You whimpered into the gag. Of course you were excited- he’d been teasing you with this little 'demonstration' all week. Whispering promises in your ear, tapping out reminders on your thigh, dropping technical jargon laced with filth that left your core throbbing before he’d even touched you. Now that it was finally happening, your whole body was buzzing with need.

He didn't wait. He moved closer, one gloved hand parting your thighs a little further, the other settling between them. The bench adjusted beneath you, lifting your hips another inch to meet his touch perfectly. His fingers dipped between your folds- testing your wetness, teasing you just enough to make your body jerk in its bonds.

"Already responsive," he muttered, half to himself, half to Friday. "She’s going to be a dream to log."

He slid the egg in with two fingers, slow and deliberate. The cool metal kissed your entrance, making you flinch slightly- it was colder than you expected, stark contrast against your heated skin. Your walls instinctively tried to resist, clenching down, but his fingers were patient, coaxing you open, parting you around the sleek, unyielding toy.

The egg slid upward, heavy and smooth. As it moved deeper, your body yielded to it, the slow stretch making your breath catch. Its contours were designed to press into every sensitive spot, and you could feel your muscles fluttering around it, trying to accommodate the sudden fullness. As he pushed it deeper, you could feel every inch of it being swallowed by your body, your slick muscles tightening, fluttering around the intrusion.

He pushed the egg up high inside you, then paused, his finger still inside you too. "Squeeze for me," he ordered. You did, instinctively, your walls closing down as you used your pelvic floor, and Tony gave the platic string attached a soft tug.

The stretch, the resistance- it was delicious. The egg stayed locked in place. You couldn’t push it out if you tried. He smiled, clearly pleased.

"Perfect. Secure fit," he murmured. "Wouldn’t want it popping out mid-test."

It settled deep inside you, a sinful throb blooming in your core. Then it pulsed- just once, a quick flutter that made you jolt.

"There we go," he breathed, watching the screen light up with new data. "Didn’t even turn it on yet and she’s already going. Fuck, I love this job."

You were barely processing the first toy when he reached for the second.

Beads. Tapered, growing in size, each one gleamed under the soft blue lighting like tiny pieces of futuristic art. You squirmed, thighs pressing together, but it was no use- Stark had seen your reaction.

Tony laughed- low and delighted.

"Didn’t know we were going there, huh?" He nudged your knees apart again, voice dipping to a darker octave. "Come on, baby. I want you to open up for me. Let’s see what this one does..."

You shook your head slightly. Whimpered into the gag. Wide eyes watching him as you tried to protest around the ball gag in your mouth. 

Tony turned to the tray beside him, selecting a small, frost-blue tube of gel. "Wouldn't be very considerate to skip prep," he muttered, more to himself than to you. He uncapped the tube and squeezed a slow, deliberate line of the slick, glistening substance along the length of the beads. The gel shimmered faintly under the light, warming as it reacted with the ambient temperature.

He coated each bead carefully, fingers moving with methodical ease, making sure the entire string was evenly slicked. "Lubricated. Body-safe. Custom formula," he said with a wink. "Slippery enough to slide in smooth- sticky enough to stay in place until I say otherwise."

Then he held the beads up for you to see, the string dangling between his fingers. You tensed instinctively.

"Oh no. You’re freezing up. Can’t test properly if you don’t behave. Legs. Open."

You didn’t.

Tony tsked, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment. Then he grabbed your chin, firm and steady, tilting your head so your eyes locked with his.

"Don't think so much. That’s not what good test subjects do."

Click.

The bench tilted beneath you without warning. Your hips rolled upward, knees falling further apart as the restraints auto-adjusted. You were fully exposed now- helpless. Wide open.

"You know I can override those restraints, right? I built them. Now be a good girl and show me everything."

He dipped his finger back into the gel and brought it to your ass, pressing a cool dollop directly to your tight, puckered entrance. The sudden chill made you flinch, but it was followed by the warm glide of his fingertip as he gently teased the gel in slow circles.

"You tense here, too," he said, amused. "Don't worry. This formula warms up just like you do."

He rubbed it in carefully, working the gel into your rim with delicate, coaxing pressure. The sensation tingled- both from the temperature shift and the way his finger circled and pressed until your body finally began to relent.

Then he lowered the beads between your cheeks and began to press them in- one at a time. The first slid in easily, the gel working its magic, cool and slick. The second made your breath stutter. The third had your whole body tensing as your hole stretched just enough to accommodate the new pressure.

Each one pulled a different, desperate noise from you- somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, caught in the back of your throat and forced through the gag in broken fragments.

By the time the third bead settled inside you, you felt full. Stretched in ways that left you panting, your back arching hard off the bench. Everything was working together- the deep pressure of the egg nestled high in your core, the hum beginning to buzz through your clit like a phantom, and now the slow, firm intrusion of the beads pressing against nerves that had you seeing stars. You struggled to catch your breath, the gag forcing each inhale to be short and choppy. Air hissed through your nose while your mouth flooded with saliva, spit slipping from the corners of your lips in thick strands that slid down your neck and onto your chest. The overwhelming heat of arousal and frustration tangled in your gut, building like steam with nowhere to escape. The restraint of it made the fire inside you burn hotter.

Your muscles clenched involuntarily, your hips rocking against the air, chasing friction that didn’t come. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t beg. Just drool, tremble, and take everything he gave you.

"Mmm. That moan? That was bead three. She likes that one, Friday."

"Confirmed," the AI replied. "Pelvic floor tension rising. Heart rate increasing."

"Good. Means it’s working."

The egg began to heat. The beads hummed in sync, and you felt everything shift- internally and externally- as pleasure bled into pressure, and pressure into overload. You were trembling now, thighs twitching again, trying to close- but the bench held you wide, utterly exposed.

"Heart rate’s spiking..." Tony’s voice was pure, filthy glee. "Oh, she’s gonna break soon. Look at her squirm."

You rutted against the air, clit untouched and screaming for attention. Your walls fluttered around the egg, your ass clenching down against the beads as the different pulses overlapped and collided. It was all too much and somehow not enough. You needed more and needed it to stop, all at once.

You tried to breathe, but the gag made it impossible to take anything but shallow, panting gasps. Each exhale was laced with a moan. Drool spilled freely down your chin, dripping warm across your face and neck. You were flushed, messy, wrecked- and he hadn’t even touched your clit.

Your back arched violently off the bench, cords of heat coiling through your belly and thighs. It felt like your body was unraveling, muscles tight and desperate, nerve endings screaming with pleasure.

Tony leaned in again, voice dark and syrup-smooth. "We’ve got her plugged, egged, and ready to combust. Think she can handle the next phase?"

Friday answered, "Orgasm build-up at 87%."

"Perfect." He tapped a command into the air. "Now let’s push her."

The egg pulsed deeper. The beads vibrated sharper. You cried out- moaning, writhing, the gag muffling it into raw, incoherent noise. You couldn’t form words. Couldn’t beg. Just sob through the pressure building to a breaking point.

"Baby, this is science. Filthy, beautiful science."

It hit you like a wave- white-hot and all-consuming. Your legs shook violently in the stirrups, muscles spasming as your body locked around the egg and beads pulsing inside you. Every nerve ending fired in chaotic pleasure, overwhelming your senses. You tried to scream, to sob, but the gag reduced it to a shattered, strangled cry that vibrated through the tech, each desperate noise dutifully logged.

Drool spilled in long, wet strands down your chin as your back bowed hard off the bench, your whole body trembling under the assault of pleasure. Your cunt clenched tight around the egg, milking it involuntarily, while your ass throbbed with each hum of the vibrating beads. Everything inside you was pulsing, moving, grinding you down into submission.

Tony watched, transfixed, his gaze locked on your ruined, shaking form. “There she goes - God, I should patent that moan.”

Your eyes rolled back. You could barely breathe. You could only tremble and leak and convulse as the orgasm tore through you. The bench beneath you vibrated subtly with your body’s response.

Friday: "Orgasm confirmed."

Tony waited until you were trembling, your breathing uneven, your thighs still twitching with aftershocks that rippled through your overstimulated body. Sweat slicked your skin in a thin, glistening sheen, catching the light as your chest heaved with broken gasps around the gag. Your limbs strained weakly against the restraints.

Then- slowly, methodically- he reached between your cheeks and took hold of the first bead. He didn’t rush. He eased it out one at a time, each slick orb dragging along your inner walls with a sticky, stretching glide. You shuddered at the sensation- the unbearable emptiness that bloomed in the wake of each removal. Your ass clenched reflexively around the loss, trying to hold onto what had filled you so completely. But he kept going.

The final bead popped free with a slick, obscene sound. Your hips jolted involuntarily, your back arching once more as your body spasmed again, clinging to the ghost of sensation.

Friday's voice crackled overhead. "Anal pressure reduced. Sphincter still contracting. She’s experiencing post-orgasmic muscle spasms."

Then came the egg.

He curled his fingers inside you, tugging the retrieval loop with a firm, practiced motion. The egg slipped free, wet and shiny,  your cunt fluttering uselessly around the sudden void. The stretch, the drag, the warmth- it all left you aching. You cried into the gag, overwhelmed by the emptiness and the continued tremors in your muscles. Your thighs kicked slightly, your knees drawing in as far as the restraints would allow.

"Vaginal walls contracting. Core temperature still elevated. She's not done trembling yet," Friday observed, calm as ever.

Tony held both toys in one hand now- wet, warm, shining. He looked down at you with naked satisfaction.

"That’s some damn good tech," he said. "But we’re not done."

From the tray, he lifted his final piece.

A dildo- sleek, deep grey, Stark-stamped at the base. Modeled after him, and you knew it. Maybe a little bigger. Slightly wider at the base, with delicate ridges along the underside that hinted at something extra. Your breath caught just looking at it.

“This one’s special, baby. Built it from memory- well, from yours,” Tony said, rolling it in his hand. “Temperature regulated, pressure-sensitive, and the best part? The internal sensors sync to your contractions. It responds to you. The more you clench, the deeper it drives. A perfect loop.”

You whimpered around the gag, heart fluttering.

He moved between your spread legs and lined it up against your soaked, fluttering entrance. You were already sensitive- still trembling from the last orgasm- and when the wide tip pressed in, you nearly cried. It stretched you slowly, steadily, a little more than you were used to. Your slick walls resisted at first, clenching down instinctively, but Tony was patient, guiding it with precise control.

“There you go,” he coaxed, voice smooth but sharp-edged with amusement. “That’s it. Take all of it. Come on, baby- I know you can..”

His tone dipped into a purr. “There you go. Taking it like you need it. Bet you love being filled up with Stark-grade tech, huh?”

Your back bowed off the bench as he pushed it in, inch by inch, your pussy yielding to every contour, forced to accommodate the full shape of it. The fullness was delious, your body stretched taut around it. Your eyes rolled back as the final ridge slipped inside, the toy settling deep.

“There,” he said, watching your reactions with fascination. “Fills you out just right. And now... we see what she can really do.”

The base clicked into a pulse pattern, and the toy began to move inside you- slow at first, deliberate, like it was learning your shape. You could feel every textured ridge of the shaft as it rubbed against your inner walls, dragging across oversensitive flesh, sparking little detonations of pleasure with every pass.

Then it pulsed- long and low, a rhythmic thrum that radiated from base to tip, sending heat spiraling through your belly. With every thrust, the toy seemed to stretch you deeper, nudging a spot that made your toes curl and your thighs twitch against the restraints. Your pussy clenched around it reflexively, triggering the internal sensors Tony had mentioned. And just like that, the toy responded- pressing harder, thrusting deeper, faster.

It wasn’t just fucking you- it was reading you, syncing to the wild flutter of your muscles, pulsing in tandem with your arousal.

“Look at her,” Tony murmured, grinning as he watched the toy disappear again and again between your legs. “Every little squeeze makes it work harder. You’re doing this to yourself, baby. And I haven’t even touched your clit yet.”

You’d been so consumed by the thrusting inside you, by the stretch and pulse of the toy, that you hadn’t even noticed Tony move. But suddenly, he was there- looming over you, and the egg was pressed directly to your clit.

The sensation was immediate and brutal.

Your entire body jolted. The contact felt almost painful, your nerves raw and exposed, the stimulation electric. You tried to buck away, hips arching, thighs trembling, but you had nowhere to go.

Tony caught you effortlessly. One hand shoved the egg against your swollen clit, refusing to relent, while the other pressed down on your thigh to keep your knees from closing.

“Uh uh. None of that,” he said smoothly. “You don’t get to hide from this, baby. You earned it.”

You sobbed into the gag, thrashing your hips side to side, but the bench and Tony’s hands made escape impossible. Every attempt to squirm just sent the dildo thrusting deeper inside you, and the egg grinding cruelly over your clit.

“You’re not gonna break,” he whispered, teasing. “You’re gonna burn for me.”

"Don’t you dare run from it. look at me."

He was holding you still- one hand clamped over your thigh to keep your legs spread, the other pressing the egg mercilessly to your clit. You were trembling in his grasp, utterly helpless against the merciless pairing of his tech and his control.

"You’re gonna come again for me, sweetheart. Real data’s in the repeat response," he said, eyes locked on yours, voice both commanding and hungry.

The dildo thrust deep, the ridges grinding against your most sensitive spots as your walls clamped down. The egg buzzed brutally against your swollen clit, so overstimulated you couldn’t tell whether you were trying to run from it or chase it. Every jolt of pleasure lit your nerves like lightning- white-hot and impossible to hold back.

Your body jerked, hips spasming, thighs trembling violently as the sensations overloaded you. Your entire body was working against you- every clench, every twitch, every gasp just triggered the toy to go deeper, harder, faster. You weren’t riding it anymore- it was riding you, and Tony just watched with that devilish smirk, keeping you wide open.

“That's it. Shake for me. Scream into that gag. Show me what science can do.”

The climax tore through you without mercy- harder, deeper, a violent unraveling of every nerve as your body convulsed around the relentless rhythm of the tech inside you. You didn’t just come; you shattered, splintering open in a release so intense it blurred your vision, your mind, your ability to distinguish pleasure from pain. Your vision shattered into sparks, your scream muffled into a raw, hoarse noise behind the gag. Your body thrashed in the restraints, muscles locking as the orgasm ripped through you, longer and sharper than the last.

Friday: "Second orgasm confirmed. Neural spike significant. Subject approaching physical limit."

He slowed the toy, letting it ease to a stop deep inside you before withdrawing it carefully, letting you feel every last ridge dragging along your raw, overstimulated walls. Then, with a gentleness that almost contrasted the torment he’d just put you through, he removed the egg from your clit. The instant the contact broke, your whole body sagged in the restraints with relief and exhaustion. You were shaking, barely breathing- every inch of you buzzing, nerves fried and twitching from the overload.

You could taste salt on your lips- your own tears and spit, your jaw aching from clenching around the gag. You were drenched, body glistening with sweat, your skin flushed and hypersensitive to the air.

He removed the gag last. Your jaw fell slack with a wet, trembling gasp, strands of spit clinging to the corners of your mouth. You blinked up at him, vision hazy, lips wet and parted.

Tony gazed down at you, eyes gleaming with wicked satisfaction, his mouth tugging into a crooked grin that said told you so. He looked like a man admiring his finest creation- smug, yes, but also thoroughly entertained by the glorious, twitching mess sprawled out beneath him.

“You did good, baby. Fucking beautiful. But next time?”

He leaned close, brushing a kiss to your temple- slow, deliberate, his breath warm against your damp skin.

“Think I’ll need to design something that gets you to squirt. Can’t let a variable like that go untested. Wouldn’t be very Stark of me to stop now, would it?”

He turned with a little flourish, tapping the screen with a flick of his fingers, not bothering to look back.

“Friday, save this session. Label it: Successful. Prepare files for Phase Two.”

[bvrnesher]

❝ 𝒫ull 𝒪ut 𝒢ame ! ❞ ― marvel !

summary: just what I think of each of these characters when it comes to pull out 🗣

— 𝒮teve ℛogers ;; He likes to think he’s good at it. And honestly? He is. Respectful, controlled, painfully self-aware. The second he feels himself getting close, he speeds up, grits his teeth, and pulls out right on time—usually on your stomach or chest. Gentleman. HOWEVER—deep, deep down? He does have a breeding kink. He just won’t admit it. The day you whisper “it’s okay, I’m on the pill”? He hesitates just long enough to ruin his perfect record.

Rating: 10/10. Practically flawless. Just a little too responsible.

— 𝒯ony 𝒮tark ;; This man cums like he’s paying rent. He could pull out. He knows how. Won’t. He’s like, “You knew the risk,” and just lets go. Finishes inside you with a smirk, kisses your temple like he didn’t just pump you full, and asks for another round like nothing happened.

Rating: 7/10. Could pull out. Ignores it. Still makes it hot.

— ℬucky ℬarnes ;; NO WAY this man is risking it, but for the sake of the game, let’s say he tries. He means to pull out. He really does. But the second you tighten around his cock when he’s close? Too late. He’s already twitching, already filling you up. Feels guilty after, mutters apologies, but ask him for another round and he forgets all about it.

Rating: 5/10. Tries. Fails. Feels bad. Does it again.

— 𝒯hor 𝒪dinson ;; Sweetheart himbo with the pull-out instincts of a golden retriever. You tell him “pull out,” and he’s like, “But why, beloved?” while thrusting deeper. His idea of affection is cumming in you until it’s leaking down your thighs and calling it “a gift from the gods.”

Rating: 0/10. He means well. That’s the problem.

— ℒoki ℒaufeyson ;; Oh, he can pull out. He just won’t—unless it’s to tease you. Otherwise? He stays buried until the very end, groaning in your ear about how good you feel while he fills you up. He wants to watch it drip out. It’s about power. Ownership. Ruin. You say “pull out”? He says “make me.”

Rating: 0/10. Wicked.

— 𝒫eter 𝒫arker ;; He’s studied the theory. He wants to pull out. He really does. But the second things start getting too good? He’s whimpering, cock twitching, finishing inside you before he even realizes it. Apologizes mid-orgasm and offers to run to the pharmacy still inside you.

Rating: 3/10. He tries. He panics. He fails.

— ℰrik 𝒦illmonger ;; Pull out? Babe, he hears you say it and smirks. Doesn’t even pretend to listen. Holds your hips down, grinds in deeper, and finishes inside like he means it. Tells you “You better take all that,” like it’s a challenge and a threat. Might pull out once—just to finish on your face and call it a reward. But most nights? He’s filling you up like it’s his personal mission.

Rating: -100/10. He’s doing it on purpose. You’re not walking right tomorrow.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

⋆ ˚｡𖦹. TONY STARK being a cocky tease 18+ fem!reader. mdni !! WARNINGS. porn without plot, general filth, light face slapping, old man mentions bc it's hot, sue me.

⎯ ☆ ⎯

Sitting on the entirety of his cock, you wind. Small, tired rolls of your hips an attempt to keep with Tony’s exceedingly high, almost unattainable drive. By now, you were fairly exhausted, rather sore too — knees cramping and stomach hurting, all of your aches and pains tracing back to the extensively long session you two share. 

“Got one more left in you, don’t you?” he asks, voice smug and condescending. 

His gaze remains locked on you slightly above, eyes fixed on your face as your body bobs and rocks against his from your position on his lap. You shake your head as your fingers dig further into his shoulders, grip firm like you were using him for balance — body growing weary by now.

“I know you can, princess. Come on, give me one more. Just one more, then we’re done.”

He brings a hand from his placement along the back of the sofa and instead places it to your mascara stained cheek, giving it a light slap. A gentle tap like its purpose was encouragement, no harm intended behind the act. 

“Look alive, sweetheart,” he comments, tone teasing. “Come on, give me a smile.”

You give Tony a little nod and small smile in response, unable to give him anything more through your strained pants and whines. Though he understands. A quick quirk of the lips letting you know he was amused, obviously taking great pride in wrecking your mind with his thick cock and dirty mouth.

“That’s my girl. Making your old man so proud,” he praises and gives you another little tap on the cheek. though this time it wasn’t for encouragement, but rather gratification. Seeming to be satisfied with your accordance. 

He places his hand back in its prior position, resting it along the top of the sofa — arms extended fully across the width of it. He slumps into the couch, sitting back to watch the lewd view of you working over his cock, your bounces and grinds an attempt to get you both off.

⎯ ☆ ⎯

this has been in my drafts for weeks and forgot about it EEK

[b1tchbait]

it’d be so easy to snap your neck and fuck your slack jaw. youre lucky youre pretty enough for me to keep you around, even half alive