wanda's boy toy

he/they, 20+ homophobes and terfs are shot on sight

[warmachineran]

hi, i'm ran, 20+, transmasc, he/they 😎 i used to exclusively write for twice (kpop girl group) but i now also write for wanda maximoff & natasha romanoff.

please check the linked rules post before interacting & sending requests.

minors pleasseee do not interact!

rules

masterlist | for TWICE

masterlist | for the women of MCU

[warmachineran]

i watched frankenstein (2025) yall...... creature!reader (genderbent but like in a lesbian/masc/butch way) x elizabeth!wanda (hehe

[warmachineran]

chat i watched in secret the other day and other than some gucci dialogue and the horny bits, it made me so mad omfg free my girl???? i kinda wanna write about it but i don't think i could do 1900s vibe of speaking/writing style. but i wanna write a fix it fic for my girl therese so bad it honestly feels like there's monkey playing cymbals in my head. she needs a LESBIAN. better yet, a MASC (aka me)

[warmachineran]

October 31: monster fucking

TAGS: 18+ only, wanda x reader, witch!wanda, werewolf!reader, power bottom!wanda, service top!reader, mean!wanda, dumb dog!reader, monster fucking, hunting/chasing, very brief feeling of helplessness, talks of mating marks & pregnancy, knotting, breeding | 4.4k

A/N: ok so i gave up finishing the strip poker fic (i'll upload it when i finish it) but here's the last day for my kinktober <3 i had the most fun writing this one and no i will not explain. thank you all for reading and interacting! lmk what yall think or if there are some aus that you would like expanded on.

main masterlist | kinktober 2025

Despite being known as pack animals, you’re not as social as the other werewolves in the state. The primary reason being you were kid(?)napped, or werewolf-napped, at such a young age and auctioned off to some mobsters. Your formative years were spent on doing the odd jobs — endless killing, massacring, pillaging and all the other fancy words humans have for slaughter — until you were rescued on accident by the Scarlet Witch.

She wasn’t necessarily trying to rescue you, she was just seeking revenge on these lowlifes that set fire on the village that was under her protection while she was out on a coven meeting. Thankfully it wasn’t a job you had a hand in, per se, as you watched her easily dispose of your captors. When she saw the shock collar on your neck, she waved her hand and it fell off. Then without looking back, she walked away.

You didn’t know how to speak and though you did understand some words, they’re honestly just different variations of ‘kill these people.’ Though not having any idea how to, you had the urge to thank her for freeing you, so you had followed her — making sure to mask your presence and keep enough distance between her and you to avoid detection. Of course, as soon as she was able to confirm that you’ve been following her and not just going to the same direction, she confronted you by blasting you away with her red magic.

Ever since that fateful day, you’ve been living with Wanda, the Scarlet Witch, as her personal werewolf slash guard dog. She was initially adamantly against the idea once you were able to non-verbally communicate your gratefulness and wish to serve her, and not looking for a fight to avenge your captors, but you could be persuasive when you wanted. You simply started following her again until she got tired of throwing her energy balls at you. When you both arrived at her cottage, you circled the perimeter — sniffing everything within a half mile radius then plopping on the forest ground near her house once you’re satisfied. After stubbornly camping near her cabin and barking aggressively at anyone who dared to knock on her door for almost a month, she finally gave up and opened her door to you.

When she offered to help you find a werewolf pack to integrate with, you whined and shook your head so hard you hurt your neck. Since then, Wanda has instead helped you connect with some werewolf traditions and even indulged the werewolf instincts that plagued you for as long as you could remember — such as wearing your mating mark on her neck proudly.

You’ve talked endlessly about your urge to chase her, to claim your prize, that when the day came, you’re equally nervous and trembling in excitement. It doesn’t help that Wanda has withdrawn and forbid sexual intimacy for the past two weeks. Something about preparing and wanting you to be as wild and out of control as your nature wants you to be. You think it’s bullshit she’s pulling on you but you don’t wanna be in the proverbial doghouse again.

“Ready, little wolf?” she asks, fingers lightly tracing the back of your neck.

You opted to be barefoot, not really wanting to ruin any more shoes Wanda buys for you, knowing that once you let go of your inhibitions, you would probably shift to your werewolf form unconsciously. Other than that, you are appropriately clothed — your handy jean shorts and a simple white muscle shirt. Leaning back on Wanda’s hold on your nape, you happily nod at her, the call of the full moon is tugging at your self-control.

“Good,” Wanda says as she tightens her grip on you. The action making pleasurable tingles run across your spine. “Let’s go over our rules for tonight then I’ll cast the binding spell that you have to follow them, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Rule one, I agree to have you chase me in the forest on foot, and I will refrain much from using flight and teleportation spells. Though I guarantee to let myself be caught at midnight, you are still to try your best to catch me before.”

“Rule two, if I say ‘silver’ you will stop whatever you’re doing to me and sit on guard until I get up.” Wanda continues, “and Rule three, we are free to hurt and bruise and mark each other but we are not allowed to draw blood outside of your mating marks.”

You flinch in shock due to the sharp sting of the binding spell starting to take effect, but nevertheless you nod in agreement.

She then releases her tight grip on your neck, soothing it with soft caresses until you’re putty and weak in the knees. “All good, Y/N? Or do you want to add other rules?”

You shake your head, not really having any limits that could be threatened in this scene. Deep down, you and your instinct know you have no hopes of winning a fight against the Scarlet Witch. Still, you’re eager to start the hunt — not only because you’re excited to finally touch Wanda but also because it’s been so long since you were able to fully stretch your limbs and challenge the physical limits of your werewolf form.

Wanda chuckles at your eagerness, your excitement rubbing off on her. She pulls you down for a mind numbing kiss, whispering, “Let the hunt begin, then, pup.”

She bites your bottom lip hard enough you felt like she would break skin, then with a condescending pat to your cheeks, she flies deeper into the forest.

You spend the next 30 minutes of her head start by stretching and doing light exercises to loosen your muscles.

When it’s time to run after her, you howl to the orange-painted skies courtesy of the sunset, signifying that a wolf has entered the forest to play. You try to think about where Wanda could have gone — if she opted to hide somewhere or if she's still running. You ignore the path before you, knowing there are no traces of her on the ground since she flew. Sniffing the air, you caught an odd, somewhat familiar smell, it doesn't smell like any of Wanda's perfumed products but it definite doesn't smell like it belongs in nature. You start a light jog, deciding to follow it as you couldn't pinpoint which direction Wanda took.

With the full moon peeking over the horizon, your senses are heightened more than usual — your ears perk at every noise and snapping of twigs; your nose twitch at every smell brought by the breeze; and your eyes scan your surroundings. Still, there's no sign of Wanda anywhere. You've also lost track of the odd smell from earlier.

Though the moon increases the sensitivity of your senses, it makes you rely on them and on your instincts more than your rational thought which is frustrating for you and Wanda on a regular basis. Witchcraft, you've come to learn, is more about being precise and in control — something that both your wolf and werewolf forms during the full moon simply could not grasp. Wanda had always insinuated, mockingly of course, that you're a thousand-pound pure muscle running on a small and smooth brain. It doesn't help that your responses were always in varying degrees of barking happily at her and your tongue lolling out of your muzzle, anyway.

As you debate with yourself on how to track your mate other than randomly picking a direction and running towards it, your ears pick up the soft lilt of her giggles. It didn't have to register in you that it's Wanda's before you're already barreling towards the sound. With fierce determination, you clench your muscles and run as fast as you could, your footsteps are loud thuds across the forest floor and you're sure to have scared off every creature in the vicinity.

When you reach the place you heard the giggles from, there's nothing waiting for you. As you look around for the next clue, you hear Wanda as if she's whispering on your ear, taunting you, “You're so slow, little wolf. How are you going to claim me when you're such a weak, slow wolf? Should I look for a better and stronger one? Someone who could catch me?”

The growl you let out rumbles deep inside your gut. The idea that Wanda would look for someone else when you're here sparks a rage so blinding your gums ache from how hard you're grinding your teeth. Your fangs dropping, glinting and sharp under the moonlight. Your nails turn to claws and your muscles double in mass. But you don't shift, not yet.

The odd smell is back, stronger than ever, and you chase after it like a rabid dog. Wanda's gone quiet, no longer teasing, but you can still hear her soft laughter echoing between the dense trees. When you arrive in the next clearing, you finally realize what the odd smell was. There laying innocently on the dirt is a lit blood red candle. You drop low to avoid the fumes, eyes narrowing at it. You sniff the surroundings, trying to smell if there were human — or witch — made traps hidden from sight. When you're sure there are none, you crawl to the candle and against your better, human, and rational judgment, you take a whiff of the fumes directly.

The smell triggers a response in you. Your cock swells under your jeans. By your body's reaction, you realize the familiar notes of it is the sweet smell and taste of Wanda's arousal and her blood when she's reaching her peak.

Your wolf brain takes over for a second and you take a bite of the candlestick, expecting to taste Wanda. You spit it out. It tastes like wax. You pocket the candle, picking up the chunk you bit and spit, all the while grumbling about how stupid your wolf side is.

A sharp sound of a twig snapping alerts you. As you swivel to the direction of the sound, you catch sight of a maroon robe fluttering in the wind. You don't think twice before you're running after the figure.

It darts between the trees and over fallen trunks way too quickly, as if it's levitating off the uneven forest floor instead of running like you. The thought that it's Wanda allowing you to actually give chase warms and excites you. You've never met someone so… generous and willing to indulge your wolf instincts. Though of course you've actually never met anyone other than her and your captors — you've mostly barked yourself silly, refusing to come inside, when her coven witches visit the cabin.

At one point, you finally shorten the distance between the two of you enough to confirm that it's indeed Wanda you're giving chase to — Wanda who's sporting the cruelest, most wicked smirk you've ever seen in her. She is flying low, only a half foot above the ground, and there's no trace of exhaustion on her face. She looks downright smug and arrogant. Like she's the one toying you, the one hunting you, and not the other way around. It shoots direct arousal in your veins. Preying on a predator, a powerful being like her, is thrilling.

“Hello, puppy,” she says, voice calm and even and commanding.

You don’t answer her, your attention focused on navigating the forest while maintaining your pace to keep up with her.

As soon as she's within your arm's reach, she suddenly stops in her tracks. With your attention suddenly disrupted, you lose your footing and smash directly on a tree trunk — the force enough to topple it over. You could feel Wanda leaning over your fallen form, her silhouette blocking the shine of the moon. She snickers, “Dumb little wolf.”

A frustrated growl erupts from you and you swipe your claws at her as you stand up, snarling. She easily dodges it, floating a few paces away. Her brows are furrowed, her lips a sharp line on her face. She likes it when you get frustrated, but she doesn't appreciate you getting angry. “Careful, puppy. I could make this much more terrible for you.”

Feeling sufficiently chastised, you let out a low whine from your throat, your tail drooping low. Thankfully, Wanda's feeling magnanimous, “Don’t do that again and we won't be having a problem, okay?”

You nod at her, tongue lolling out of your muzzle. You still feel dizzy from earlier so you shake your head hard, dispersing the fog creeping on your brain. “Hunt?” you ask tentatively, your speech is a lot better when you're a human — compared to the first few years you've been a free wolf — but it's very stilted when you shift to your werewolf form.

Wanda smiles indulgently at you, beckoning you with a come hither motion with her fingers.

You dig your heels on the dirt and with a sharp intake of breath, you propel yourself toward her.

Wanda's having the time of her life. She knows, deep down, that she’s more powerful than you — she can quite literally turn you into a fluffy Pomeranian dog with just a willful thought — but the thrill of getting chased, hunted, by one of the mythical predators roaming the world? The feeling is simply unlike no other she’s felt in her long life span. It’s like her blood is singing under her skin for the first time. It’s probably just the adrenaline rush, but who cares.

She’s never had any particular thoughts about werewolves before meeting you, though she’s had her fair share of experiences with your race, they were always on a professional ground — your kind have been excellent guard dogs from time immemorial. She’s employed werewolf services in the past every time she needs to. If someone told Wanda she’d bear a werewolf’s mating mark and even indulge a werewolf by being their prey, she’d probably be offended. She’s always been **very fond of the independence and invincibility her magic afforded her.

But with your footsteps thundering behind her, your heavy panting, soft growls, and the undeniable musk of your desire; there’s a part of her that wants to bare her neck for you. Wanda’s been trying to suppress that urge from the start, to ignore how she’s drenched her underwear with her arousal.

It only takes a miscalculated turn for you to finally grab her waist and the two of you roll on the ground, unable to stop your momentum. You have her tucked on your larger, muscular body, your hand cradling the back of her head against the crook of your neck. Despite most of your rationality lost to the full moon and the thrill of the hunt, it’s touching to see the effort you’re displaying to make sure she’s safe.

You land on your back with Wanda on top of you. For a split second, Wanda sees worry flicker across your golden eyes. She gives you a small smile to indicate she’s fine, then you’re pulling her down to swap positions with her.

Wanda’s panting, her heart pounding hard against her ribcage. She’s pinned under your careful weight, your hips straddling her and one of your hands holding her wrists above her head. She tilts her head to the side as you lean down to sniff at her neck, licking a wet, warm stripe across the muscle there. At a slight nip from your sharp fangs, Wanda lets out a keening whine, unable to stop her hips from bucking up against you.

You let out a warning growl on her skin, thinking that she’s trying to push you away. Wanda hums lowly, soothing you by nuzzling her cheek on your snout.

“Mine,” you snarl, your free hand grabbing her clothes — a simple loose shirt tucked on her joggers. Your claws catch on the fabric of her top, the sharp sound of it ripping is drowned by the blood rushing to her head. Wanda whines as soon as the cool night wind makes contact with her flushed skin.

Your hand immediately cups her bare breast, squeezing the mound, while your thumb swipes on her hardened nipple. You lean down to lick her other breast, your long tongue is warmer and wetter and just the thought of your sharp canines so close to her private parts has her squeezing her legs together.

Wanda tries to suppress her moans, emphasis on the trying part, but when your sharp teeth catch her nipple, she lets out a loud gasp.

She's not sure how much time has passed until you're sufficiently satisfied slobbering all over her tits, but then you shift your lower half until you're settled between her spread legs — ripping her joggers apart along with your jean shorts in the process.

Wanda could feel her slick dripping between her ass, pooling at the destroyed fabric of her joggers. She wants to touch you and run her fingers across your coarse gray fur, to grip and tug and feel your rippling muscle as you take her. You probably thought she's trying to get away again and you tighten your grip on her wrists, pushing it harder on the ground. The action triggers a response from Wanda that she swore to never feel again: helplessness. She whines and pushes harder against your hold which makes you growl darkly, your other hand splaying across her torso to still her movements.

Wanda comes to when she feels your thumbs rubbing circles on her skin and she realizes she's safe with you. She files in her head to revisit her reaction to restraints and talk to you about it some time soon.

“Okay?” you gruffly ask, tilting your head adorably.

“I'm okay, thank you, puppy.”

Wanda feels you loosen your grip on her wrists as you lick her forehead wetly. She appreciates the gesture, feeling utterly loved.

She watches you line your hard cock on her hole, a part of her feeling confused but not sure why. She clenches her toes when she realizes what's her confusion about. It's the shape and color of your cock. Instead of the bulbous head she's familiar with, the tip is pointed. It's also more pink, as if it's outer layer is more flesh than skin.

When you slip your cock inside her, Wanda throws her head back and squeezes her thighs on your sides. It's big. You're already bigger than average when you're human but with how Wanda feels like you're splitting her open, you must be massive in both size and girth in this form. She comes unexpectedly as soon as your cock is sheathed fully in her cunt.

You don't wait for her to adjust, or at least long enough for Wanda to come down from her sudden high, already starting to thrust inside her. The wet squelch of your cock pounding her pussy echoes in her ears.

With her hands still restrained, Wanda instead wraps her legs on your hips, locking them on your bottom. Your back is bowed due to your much taller form now, hips pistoning in an unrelenting rhythm. Every thrust has her clenching hard on your girthy shaft, as if her body is willing you to stay to the root.

Your hackles suddenly rise, letting out a deep, threatening growl, your head snapping to the side. Your hand lets go of her wrists, wrapping them instead on her body until she's squished on your torso. Your movements don't cease, even with your attention split between her and something else, if anything you're going harder than before. With Wanda's obstructed view and her lust drunk state, she could only assume you're sensing a stranger. She's reminded about where she's actually getting fucked to the inch of her life. Yes, they're deep in the woods known to be where the terrifying Scarlet Witch resides but it's not a private, gated property. It makes her gush on your cock.

Trying to gather her thoughts prove to be difficult with your unceasing movements, but she casts an invisible wall around them, topping it with an illusion to make sure no one comes close. With the magic dampening outside smells and noises, you calm down considerably and you focus back on Wanda under you.

You put her down on the ground gently, your hand previously restraining her now mapping the skin between her breasts. With her arms free, Wanda's hands fly to your shoulders, fisting your fur as she spreads her legs more to accommodate your deep thrusts. With her hips slightly elevated, the rough texture of your jeans catches her clit in a way that sends pleasure directly to her veins.

She comes again, and again, and again. You manhandle her into different positions, each one firing different types and intensity of pleasure within her. Wanda is your muse and her body is your canvas — pulling wanton moans and breathy gasps for every time your cock sinks deep inside her.

You had her on her fours, your larger body wrapped on her back, fucking her from behind. Wanda doesn’t think she could take more after this — her body feels heavy and weightless at the same time and her voice is hoarse.

She whimpers, feeling like the pointed tip of your shaft is pressing down on her womb. It tapers off when she realizes why your thrusts have been shallow, insistent, as if there’s something blocking. You’re trying to pop your knot inside her cunt.

You bundle your torn shirt on the ground and wrap your arm on her chest, pressing your upper body down until Wanda’s face rests on the makeshift pillow you made. The change in angle allowed your knot to slip inside thanks to Wanda’s copious slick.

Wanda sobs in pleasure as another orgasm is ripped from deep inside her.

The sound you let out as you spill and flood her insides with your come is a cross between a cry and a howl.

When you come to, your muscles ache pleasantly like they do when you finish a particularly good workout session. You stretch your limbs, humming in delight at every crack of your joints. You try to pat Wanda’s side of the bed, intent on trapping her in bed with you for snuggle time until the sun is high in the sky.

You squint your eyes open when you couldn’t find your mate in bed. Looking around the room, you confirm that you are indeed back in the cabin and by the dark skies outside, you’ve probably slept the entire day away. You roll over, mistakenly calculating that you’re in the middle of the bed, and drop on the floor with a loud thud.

Growling, you shake your head and hear the soft tinkling of laughter coming from the door. You look up and see your mate sporting a wide indulgent smile, hand holding a steaming mug of tea.

You bound happily towards Wanda, hands reaching for her waist.

“Hello, puppy,” she greets, letting her magic carry the mug to the bedside table.

You hum, nuzzling your face on the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply before licking a long stripe on her skin. “You smell incredible, witchy.”

“That’s because you rubbed your wolf stink all over me last night,” Wanda snorts out a laugh, hand gripping your hair and tugging you off from her neck. She narrows her green eyes at you. “Are you saying I don’t smell good without all your pheromones on me, hmm?”

Before she could finish her infamous head tilt, you grab her hips and carry her back to bed, chuckling at her indignant cries.

You place her gently on the mattress and pull her close in a tight embrace.

“Last night… was it okay?” you ask tentatively.

Wanda wraps her arm over yours, tangling your legs on each other. “How much do you remember?”

“Not much, just bits and pieces for now. I’m sure it’ll come to me in full later, it’s always like that for me before.” You burrow your nose on her hair, inhaling your mate’s scent to calm the sudden flare of anxiety creeping on you. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“You didn’t,” Wanda’s quick to reassure you, turning around in your arms to face you. “Do you want me to pull the memory up for you?”

“If it doesn’t surface on its own until tomorrow, yes, please.”

You lean down to capture her lips in a tender kiss, tightening your hold on her.

“How about you? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Good.”

A comfortable silence passes between the two of you, just breathing in each other and enjoying the calmness of the night. Wanda could still feel the anxious energy flowing from your pores and though she doesn’t think much of the couple of instances you were a little aggressive, she knows you’d beat yourself up about it when you remember.

“You didn’t ask if I enjoyed it,” she murmurs against your bare chest, wanting to pull you out of your anxious musings.

Wanda could feel your sharp intake of breath and hear the smug, hopeful tone in your voice as you ask, “…did you?”

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she traces random patterns across your broad back instead, “I think I smell better for you because you could smell your seed taking root in me.”

“What.”

You grab Wanda’s shoulders and push her enough to look at her all over — eyes darting between her own and towards her covered stomach.

“You knotted me, y’know?”

A fierce blush erupts on your face. “Am I… Am I gonna be…?”

Wanda grins at you, a shit-eating grin blooming on her face, “Sorry, sorry, I’m only joking.”

“You’re so mean,” you pout at her, pinching her side.

“…or am I?”

[warmachineran]

yall sad news the strip poker kinktober fic isnt done yet 😔 idt i can finish it ngl work really fawkin me up but i will TRY

[aubvrns]

DARLING 😭 i love her

[warmachineran]

October 23: fuck machine

TAGS: 18+ only, wanda x reader, bottom!wanda, top!reader, daddy!reader, fuck machine, blindfolds, squirting, creampie, masturbation (r), bdsm dynamics, wanda calls yellow | 1.7k

A/N: before this day i actually haven't seen what a fuck machine actually looks like yall (i always just assumed LOL) my search history leading to and during this month is BONKERS let's leave it at that

main masterlist | kinktober 2025

Honestly speaking, you weren't initially sold on the idea of a fuck machine, but when Wanda looked entranced in front of the display, your mind was made that you're buying it for her as a secret birthday gift.

You weren't exactly drowning in money but you have decided to get her the most sturdy and high quality looking one. You're a couple hundred dollars poorer now but you try not to think about it and just focus on assembling it in the basement, making sure Wanda wouldn't accidentally see it.

Thankfully, you were able to get it ready and set up in your play room with your girlfriend none the wiser. The stars were aligned, you think to yourself, since you both have been busy at work that any free time you've had was spent snuggling with each other and catching up on much needed sleep.

You did have to move around meetings and workload to make sure you're free on the weekend of Wanda's birthday.

The first part of your surprise — a romantic dinner in an upscale restaurant — went through without a hitch you just knew the stress and extra hours were worth it.

The second your front door closed, you're crowding Wanda against the wall, your lips hot and insistent against her own. “I have one more gift for you,” you whisper against her ear.

Panting, Wanda furrows her brows in question. Once she is satisfied she had successfully breathed enough air in her lungs, she says in delighted exasperation, “You spoil me too much.”

“You say that like I shouldn't be spoiling you.”

She chuckles, her arms circling your shoulders, “I never said you shouldn't.”

You grin at her, hands splayed on her waist, “Guess not.”

“Well, don't keep a girl waiting,” she prompts.

You shake your head at her, your mock disappointment not fooling anyone with the way you’re excitedly leading her to the play room. You stop in front of the door, pulling a silk handkerchief from your pocket. When you dangle it in front of her, you had an uninterrupted view watching her eyes dilate.

Wanda looks up at you under her lashes, lips already parted.

You’re sure she’s game to play with you, but you’ve always made sure to check in with her before starting or engaging on any scenes with her.

“Color?”

“Green, Daddy,” she breathes out.

“Thank you for telling me, sweetie,” you press a gentle kiss on her forehead, the last act of gentleness before you fully step into the role. “Turn around, will you?”

Wanda does as she’s told quickly, much to your delight. With her back facing you, you wrap the cloth to cover her eyes, making sure to leave a generous length for the slip knot so that your girlfriend could remove it herself if she needed. “Not too tight?” you murmur against her hair.

“No, it’s not too tight.”

With your hand on the small of her back, you lead her inside the room. “I'm going to take your clothes off now, baby.”

Wanda stays still, her arms relaxed on her side. “Okay,” she whispers.

You try your best to stay as clinical as possible while undressing her, but for every sliver of bare skin that gets revealed, you feel your control slipping away to give way to lust. You can't help but trail kisses down your girlfriend's body.

Once you've finished, the two of you are trembling with anticipation. You guide her to settle on the middle of the bed, laying her on her back and placing a pillow under her hips.

You tell her your usual spiel before any scenes — asking her about her color, if she remembers her safe word, and to always communicate how she feels for every action that you do and make her do and for every word that you say to her. When you're satisfied with her answer, you capture her lips in a deep kiss.

“Daddy's just going to ready your surprise, alright? Won't be long.” You slide off the bed and position the machine at the foot of the bed and secure Wanda's favorite dildo on the attachment.

“Ready?” you ask as you extend the arm and tap it on her quivering pussy.

Wanda jerks in surprise at first but quickly settles down and arcs up to get more friction on her neglected cunt. “Yes, Daddy.”

Without warning, you slip a finger inside her, thrusting once and twice before adding another. You start slowly, letting Wanda adjust, but when she starts mewling, you up the tempo of your thrusts and fuck her properly.

You could never get used to this — having her so pliant and so willing under you. You press your thumb on her clit, the resulting moan Wanda lets out is liquid fire on your veins.

“Daddy, please, so close,” she babbles.

“Not yet,” you say, stilling your fingers.

The whine Wanda lets out is filthy and petulant and gives you reason to be more cruel. You click your tongue, pretending to be disappointed.

“It's supposed to be a reward, baby, don't be bratty now.”

Wanda bites her bottom lip, shaking her head, “’am sorry, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” you say, pulling out your fingers and tapping them on her lips. She parts her lips without prompting, sucking your wet fingers clean. After a while, you wipe them on her cheeks, knowing that she loves it.

You don't linger too long, as much as you love edging her, today is not a punishment. You crawl to the edge of the bed, taking hold of the dildo and tapping it again on Wanda's pussy, letting her feel the weight of it. You wait for a few seconds to see if she'll call for yellow, but when she doesn't, you slowly push the toy inside and turn on the machine.

As it whirs to life, you watch as Wanda slowly realizes what it is that's actually fucking her. She lets out a silent moan, her back bowing. Despite having her vision blocked, she tilts her head towards you, “Thank you, Daddy.”

“You're welcome, baby,” you pat her thigh affectionately, moving to sit against the headboard.

Unbuckling your belt, you fish your cock out from your slacks and start pumping your hands in the same rhythm as the machine.

It’s loud, especially when you increase the pace, but somehow it’s still drowned by Wanda’s moans and pleas and the rush of blood in your ear.

Ever since meeting your girlfriend and engaging on this dynamic with her, you’re both proud and somehow ashamed to admit that your hand could no longer make you come — making any time away from Wanda a very difficult and torturous experience, especially when she dole out physical intimacy on the daily. Needless to say, you’re horny as hell, yes, but you couldn’t quite reach the peak. Unlike Wanda, who’s having her fourth orgasm of the night.

You’re taken out of your frustration by Wanda’s tentative voice calling for you, her hand patting the bed, “Y/N?”

You’re immediately alert, decreasing the intensity of the machine to a lower level before sidling up to her and holding her hand, “yes baby?”

Wanda bites her lip, gripping your hand in a tight hold, “yellow.”

You remove her blindfold, letting her adjust to the low light of the room, then turn the machine off completely. “Want me to pull the toy out, baby?”

“Please.”

Climbing off the bed, you slowly pull out the dildo from her pussy and put the machine away from the bed. You start rubbing and tracing random patterns on her thighs, coaxing her down from her high and letting her take time to breathe. Once you feel her settled, you lay down beside her, making sure leave a few inches of distance between the two of you so she doesn’t feel crowded.

“Wanna feel you,” she murmurs, turning to face you and making grabby hands in your direction. She intertwines your fingers, pulling you on top of her. You easily let her manhandle you into the position she wants — kneeling between her legs, her thighs flush on your hips, her arms circling your shoulders.

You chuckle lowly, peppering her face with sloppy kisses. Being the anxiety riddled person that you are, you want to know what made her call for ‘yellow’ but in the years you’ve been together, you’ve learned that Wanda likes to continue and put the rational talk until later.

She giggles, her legs locking on your back, “Inside, please, Daddy.”

You line your cock to her pussy, slipping in easily. You breathe out a sigh of relief, the feeling of finally having her wrapped around you unlike no other.

As you start a slow rhythm, Wanda plays with the small hairs on your nape. “It felt… mechanical, no pun intended.”

You hum, smiling, waiting for her to continue.

“It was fun, at first, but it felt impersonal the longer it went,” she whispers, burrowing her face on the crook of your neck. “I liked it, Daddy, but maybe you can hold me next time or no blindfolds?”

“Thank you for telling me, baby girl,” you say. “And no blindfolds and I’ll be holding you next time we play with it.”

Wanda hums happily in reply as she clenches on you, hips following your thrusts. “Faster, please.”

As soon as you thrust faster, Wanda mewls beneath you, pulling you closer. It doesn’t take long until you feel that tell-tale tingling on your spine, making your movements uncoordinated and shallow. You lean down and prop yourself on your elbows, mindful to not crush your girlfriend under your weight.

Just like you know how to read her signs, Wanda also knows your body language — sometimes you do suspect she knows you more than you do. “Come inside me, Daddy,” she whispers against your ear.

At her permission, you bury yourself to the hilt, spilling your seed inside her inviting hole. It triggers her fifth, and final, orgasm of the night.

She’s boneless and warm and smiley wrapped in your embrace and you know you’re sporting the same giggly demeanor. She beats you to saying, “I love you,” when you both come down from your shared peak.

“I love you too, princess,” you say, plopping down on the mattress and taking her with you.

[warmachineran]

October 18: thigh riding

TAGS: 18+ only, wanda x reader, ceo!wanda, personal assistant!reader, bottom!wanda, top!reader, thigh riding, strap referred as cock, kinda power dynamics, veryyy slight angst | 1.8k

A/N: day 5 of kinktober! we are half way there and i am also half way into insanity im ngl but i had fun writing this one so yall should too 🫵

main masterlist | kinktober 2025

Before meeting you and starting this power struggle and dancing around a will they won't they relationship with you, Wanda would vehemently scold and punish anyone caught having illicit activities in the office.

Then again, she never really thought she'd be the one to actively break her company rules and toe the line between appropriate and inappropriate office conduct.

But her past self did not account for how good you looked tonight — dressed to the nines with your well-pressed olive suit and black ties to match her dark orange form-fitting dress — as you accompany her to this charity gala as her secretary slash secret plus one. You teasingly asked her if she provided your name as her plus one but she denied and shut that down quickly. Wanda has an inkling that you didn't believer her, however.

The gala, like all others she had attended ever since stepping up as the CEO of Maximoff Industries, was boring and filled to the brim of stuffy old people with thinly veiled insults under forced polite small talk. The guest list has always been split between their opinions with Wanda — either they sneer behind her back or falling over themselves to curry favor.

Tonight, though, her attention was focused on you, on the sharp line you cut in the sea of bodies, on the polite distance you had carried between the two of you. All things, especially the way you hovered around her, not quite crowding her personal space but also just a touch out of reach, were making her thrum with an intense need that only your touch can quell.

By the time it was acceptable for her to leave, Wanda's sure you have planned for how tonight has turned out. Your hands were constantly touching her, polite and feather-light and your words were always murmured on her ear, low and soft.

On the ride back to the office — you parked your car there — it took all of her concentration not to squirm on the passenger seat with your warm hand resting high against her leg. With the wicked glint in your eyes, she knows you're perfectly aware that she's soaked in her panties.

Once you're parked on the spot reserved for her and you've turned off the engine, she hopped off the car and walked straight to the elevator that has direct access to the higher floors of the building. This dance with you has been going on for almost a year but she still breathes a sigh of relief when she hears your footsteps following after her, your hand circling her waist and pulling her against your body while waiting for the lift.

When the door slides open, you push her against the wall, her back colliding on the metal railing making her groan in both surprise and pleasure as you kiss her.

You briefly pull away to whisper an apology on her lips — for the pain from the metal digging on her back, but not quite an apology that you wouldn't push her again given the chance.

Wanda grabs your tie in reply, bunching it in her fist and pulling you in again. She kisses you back just as fiercely, matching your hunger.

At the soft ding! of the elevator when you reach her office floor, the two of you stumble out like a bunch of horny teenagers. She pushes you off her after a while, drunk in lust. She tugs off her heels and pushes the pair against your chest. You accept them without any question.

Wanda walks to her office, adding a sway in her hips knowing that you're staring at her back. She turns slightly to look over her shoulder, throwing you a smirk and a wink and a silent promise of ruin.

She sits on the edge of her desk, widening her legs when you follow to stand between them. Your hands automatically rest on her sides.

“You've been teasing me,” she whispers into the dim room, toying with the fabric of your tie.

You hum and bite your lip when she tightens it against your throat, your voice rough in the edges, “I don't know what you're talking about, Miss Maximoff.”

Her pointer finger jabs on the square of your chest, dragging it to the valley between your breasts, down to your flat stomach until it reaches the hem of your slacks, dipping just below your belt line. She gives you a patronizing smile, the one that's sure to annoy you, “I'm sure you don't.”

She cups her hand on your crotch, a delighted hum passing through her lips that you're packing.

“Want it?” you lean closer to her, mouth trailing kisses and bites on her neck.

Wanda snakes her hand on your nape, grabbing a fistful of your hair. She tilts her head to the side, giving you more access to her. She bites back a moan when you suck on the spot below her ear, the one that always made her clench her toes and squeeze her eyes shut.

“I asked you a question, Miss Maximoff,” was the only warning she receives before you're pinching her straining nipple over the fabric of her dress.

She yelps in surprise, the sudden and superficial pain making her all the more pliant under your watchful gaze and skillful fingers. “Fuck,” she breathes out then she looks up to you, snagging her bottom lip between her teeth. “I want it, please, Y/N.”

You pull away, circling around her desk towards her imposing and regal chair — the very symbol of the power she wields as the sole decision-maker for this empire. Then you take a sit, legs spread wide apart in an arrogant and confident manner. “Such good manners, to think it was just months ago that you would rather have pulled your teeth off with bare hands before you would tell me what you want.”

Seeing you comfortably seated on her chair, like you belong there and like it's yours by birthright, is both dizzying and electrifying. Wanda focuses on how it makes her feel and not on what it possibly means. When you pat your leg in silent command, she follows and straddles you, wiggling a little to get comfortable as her dress bunches up high. “I had an excellent teacher.”

Your hand falls on her thigh, squeezing the flesh lightly, while the other goes to hold her waist, steadying her on your lap. Wanda's own circling over your shoulders.

“You want it, baby, you gotta work for it,” your voice is steady, although rough around the edges.

Sometimes a traitorous thought goes through Wanda's mind about your composure as you seem to have never faltered nor have been so deliciously ruined before, during, or after having sex with her. If she has never made you feel just as wrecked as you do to her, does that mean you don't actually like her as much?

She nods against your cheek, willing herself to not think about depressing things about the sorry state of her love life, not now when her sex life is once again going to be pampered. Wanda's about to get off your lap to kneel in front of you, mistakenly thinking you want her to suck your strap, when you tighten your hold on her. You shake your head subtly, a pleased and smug smile painting your stupidly charming face.

“Ride my thigh, Miss Maximoff, show me how much you want my cock by soaking through my pants.”

Wanda rests her head on your shoulder, trying to regulate her breathing, before starting a slow roll of her hips on your lap. She fears if she goes any faster, she’d come soon and with your already large ego, she knows you wouldn’t let her live that down.

Before she could get used to the slow rhythm however, you tighten your grip on her hips, whispering filthily on her temple, “Maybe you don’t want it that much? Since you’re going so slowly.” You pose to remove her on your lap, saying, “Maybe we should go home, hmm?”

Wanda couldn’t stop the whine that she lets out even if she tried to, clenching her thighs and grinding down harder on your lap. “No, don’t go,” she cries out.

“Then move like you mean it, darling.”

If someone asked you what you thought about your boss when you first started working at Maximoff Industries, you would have told them you don’t have any thoughts about the woman. Other than the superficial ones like how fucking beautiful she looks on the regular, or how intimidating she seems, how untouchable, how bossy and demanding she is, always expecting her staff to be on their best. Never would you have imagined that you will be able to witness how she looks like when she falls apart just by grinding on someone’s thighs — brows scrunched together, eyes trying to focus on your face but getting lost in pleasure, lips parted open panting softly and moaning your name.

She’s never looked as beautiful as she does to you right now.

When she started moving with intention — legs parting wider and bunching her dress in her fist, grinding harder in a way that you’re sure her clit is catching on the fabric of her underwear — you could have come untouched by how turned on you feel.

Her grip on your shoulders is probably ruining your suit jacket, but honestly you couldn’t care less. Your attention is fully focused on the woman you love taking her pleasure on your body the way she wants.

Wanda’s chanting your name under her breath, her movements slowing due to exhaustion. You take pity on her once you see the frustrated pout painting her lips.

Clenching your thigh muscle, you tighten your hold on her hips before helping her move against you. An appreciative moan passes through her lips and she moves her upper body closer to yours, her arms circling on your shoulders instead.

“Come for me, Wanda,” you say, not a request but a subtle command. “Let me feel you drip down my leg.”

She nods against her place tucked under your chin and after a few gyrations of her hips, you feel her tense and hear her let out a silent moan.

You don’t let her stop entirely, still moving her slowly to help her ride her orgasm until she leans back and pushes you back, “’m sensitive…”

“You’re so good to me,” you say, halting your movements. “Such a good girl, I love you so much.”

You kiss her forehead, peppering kisses across her face, not realizing you have confessed a long-buried secret that you promised you will take to your grave.

[warmachineran]

ran's kinktober 2025

this kinktober list will feature one-shots, ranging between short ficlets to longer ones with masc!reader / reader with penis ♡

it will be smutty and filthy so this is strictly 18+ only! all fics will have their own separate warnings. please remember you are the one responsible for the media you consume!

first time joining kinktober im excited and also nervous and remember, transphobes are not welcome in my blog!

a month of fun under the cut 🕶️ (the dates are still subject to change unless otherwise stated)

October 1: blowjob | w.m. x r (.7k)

October 7: face riding | w.m. x r (.8k)

October 11: breeding | witch!w.m. x longlived!r (1.5k)

October 14: somnophilia/masturbation | w.m. x r (.9k)

October 18: thigh riding | ceo!w.m. x personal assistant!r (1.8k)

October 21: fuck machine | w.m. x r

October 25: strip poker | w.m. x n.r. x r

October 28:

October 31:

[warmachineran]

so like. i know it's too late to even think about it but i just realized there's no dark theme in any of the fics i wrote for kinktober 😬

anyway... there would be no scheduled time when i'll post, it's truly just me and at what time i'll wake up 😗✌️

[warmachineran]

update!! so with the help of god and anime on my side i finally have a day that is "on brand" for halloween <3 let's go monster fucking (day 31)!! (if i lose the few followers i have because of this i would simply cease to exist)

[warmachineran]

October 14: somnophilia / masturbation

TAGS: 18+ only, wanda x reader, reader has a penis, somnophilia, masturbation, creampie, sextape | .9k

A/N: day 4 of kinktober! this is somno in a way that it's actually after the fact. as always all kinks, especially those that dip kinda into dubcon, should always be discussed first and consented to by both parties. have fun yall typing out the tags felt like i was taking critical HP hits <3

main masterlist | kinktober 2025

Wanda woke up to your side of the bed long been empty and cold. She recalls you mentioned that you needed to go to the office earlier than usual to prepare for a presentation. She tries to reach for her phone on the bedside drawer on her side, only to come up empty. But when she stretches her legs and rolls her ankles, she feels a different kind of aching in her thighs. A delicious kind of aching that only happens when you've spread her legs to their limit.

Just the thought of you opening her legs wider was enough to have her clenching her pussy walls. Then she feels something drip out of her hole.

Wanda slips her hand inside her panties, her fingers met with abundant wetness. She moans at the feel of it, at the knowledge that she's been drenching the sheets with her arousal in her sleep. She dips two fingers inside her, just up until the first knuckle initially, and when she feels the telltale feeling of your cum inside her, she moans loudly.

Fuck, she thinks, you creampied her while she's asleep.

Now she knows why the muscles on her legs ache, knows why her phone is not in its usual place on the top of her drawer. With her other hand, she reaches under your pillow, and soon enough she feels the shape of your phone.

She hurriedly grabs it, unlocking it with her fingerprint. There's an unread text in your conversation with Wanda.

Good morning, pretty girl. Hope you like what I left you. There's more for you to watch.

Wanda was actually the one to broach the subject with you, admitting that she finds it hot thinking about waking up full of your cum without her knowledge. That it has been a recurring fantasy of hers when she fucks herself. She even researched about the types of sleeping pills that would knock her out to let you have your way with her without waking up.

After testing the pills on different nights by setting up multiple alarms, she was able to narrow it down to one brand that let her sleep through the night without as much as getting disturbed by the alarm or of you waking her up to turn it off. She was only a little bit sorry that your sleep has been getting interrupted nightly but she knows you're just as excited as her every time you report the results of the experiment, your smile wicked and indulgent as you recall if she stirred during the night.

Wanda gave you the bottle and made you promise to not tell her if you dissolved the sleeping pill in the water you always make her drink before bed.

It had been over a few weeks since then and she has actually forgotten about it, the initial anticipation she couldn't help but feel during the first days have dissipated.

You did always know what's best for her and how to ruin her deliciously.

With her right hand still buried inside her panties, she painstakingly navigates to the private folder you have on your phone with only her left hand.

She sees a new video dated today.

Without further ado, Wanda presses play.

What greets her is a sight of your hard cock in your hand, glistening with what she assumes is lube. You slide your length through her folds, dipping the tip on her hole, teasing her. She has a front view of how her pussy gets wetter with every pass of your shaft over her clit.

When you slip your cock inside her, you point the phone towards her sleeping face — brows furrowed, mouth slightly parted open. Wanda buries her fingers inside her pussy and matches the rhythm of your thrusts.

The video becomes shaky and the speakers capture your soft pants and quiet grunts of pleasure. But still, you persist in capturing the way her cunt swallows your cock.

With the camera still trained on her pussy, your voice floats through, “Wonder what you're dreaming about while I'm fucking you, baby.”

You wiggle a little, digging your knees in on the mattress to balance yourself as your free hand comes up to rub her clit. Your thrusts have started to falter, the video now trembling on your hold. The familiar hitch of your breath when you're about to cum is loud and clear.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum, Wands.” You thrust a few more times until you bury your cock to the hilt.

Wanda slides a third finger inside her pussy, her own thrusts going faster and harder. When you pull out slowly and let the last of your cum spill over her puffy hole, the filthy sight is enough to send her off to her own orgasm.

Only the sounds of Wanda's hard breathing and your soft pants through the phone speakers can be heard for a while.

Then, your phone rings and the caller ID shows Wanda's picture. She doesn't let it ring twice.

“Did you like my gift?” your voice filters through, your tone all too smug like a cat who got the cream.

[warmachineran]

October 10: breeding

TAGS: 18+ only, wanda x reader, witch!wanda, longlived!reader, established relationship, they are married(!!) reader has a penis, breeding, pregnancy talk-ish | 1.5k

A/N: here's day 3 of kinktober (a day earlier than planned 💅), felt insane writing this ngl... have fun yall!

main masterlist | kinktober 2025

Being married to Wanda for as long as you have, you should have known to ‘read the fine print’ so to speak, before you dunked the potion she gave you like it's a shot of tequila.

It was just a small fertility spell, your wife said.

Like a magical encouragement for your swimmers to do their best, your witchy wife said.

That was hours ago.

You've lost count on how many times you came. You're sure you have emptied your balls for all their worth, but still, your cock is standing hard as a rock.

You've always been proud of your recovery period, only needing a few minutes and a bottle of water before you could go again. Which honestly complements your wife's insatiable lust. Who is currently mewling under your touch.

You initially had her on her fours but as the hours went by, she gradually lowered down until her face is buried on your pillows. Just the image alone of Wanda in this position is enough to spark a lust unlike no other in you. It's the perfect position for you to rut and breed your wife for as many times as she wants.

You're sure your grip on her hips will bruise, if they havent yet. There's a part of you that's worried about unintentionally hurting her, but there's a louder, wicked part of you that can't wait to see the bruises bloom on her skin. Your mark. You hope when Wanda looks in the mirror and sees them, she recalls your touch.

When you hear her muffled mumblings by the pillows, you lean down to hear her clearly.

“What is it, darling?” you ask, nuzzling your nose on her hair.

Still, Wanda doesn't raise her head to speak clearly, her words slurred against the pillows.

You wrap your arms around her torso and pull her up with you, the both of you now kneeling on the bed while you're still buried to the hilt in her.

Without needing to prompt her again, she repeats her words from earlier, “Want more, need more.”

You chuckle lowly against her ear, your right hand moving down to play with her neglected clit. “You want more, hm? More of my come?”

Wanda rests her head on your shoulder, lolling to the side. She's lust drunk and you're sure you've fucked any sense of rationality in her just like how she's fried your brain with every clench of her pussy on your cock and every come she's coaxed out of you. Yet, her hooded eyes still shine with mirth and playful mischief, “We need to make sure it takes. So…” she trails off, her hand cupping your cheek to make you face her, “breed me some more, Y/N. I want to be full of your come before this night ends.”

Well. You've never learned how to deny your wife of anything and tonight won't be the start.

You laugh lowly, exasperated and horny, biting into the crook of her neck. “So fucking insatiable.”

Wanda gasps at the feel of your teeth on her skin, clenching around you. She digs her knees deeper on the mattress, lets her weight fall on you, relies on your hold to keep her upright. It's difficult to ride you in this position — the both of you kneeling up on the middle of the bed. But she makes do. Her hips roll against your thrusts and when your hand creeps down to circle her clit, Wanda stifles a loud moan.

She feels your damp skin glued to her equally sweaty back and she hears your soft pants and groans of pleasure. You're relentless with your movements, each thrust sending her head first to another orgasm. She's lost count as well how many times she'd come since the night started. And thanks to the fertility spell she got from Agatha, she knows you'd also come just as much as she did, if not more.

Despite being adventurous in her sex life, having tried all of the kinks that have intrigued her, never did she have a sex marathon. Wanda has expected a couple more rounds than usual, yes, but she didn't think you would be able to go continuously. Neither did she think that she would be able to take you for hours on end without any significant rest. She didn't know if it's the potion’s side effect or it's the knowledge that the two of you were finally in the same page about expanding your little family of two.

Wanda suspects it's a combination of the two.

She's always wanted a family with you but it was only recently she finally felt ready. She's a couple of decades late since the first and last time you brought it up, when she told you she wasn't ready yet, but now it's all she could think about. Your seed in her womb, growing to be the perfect mix of the two of you.

It's dizzying.

She needs to get out of her head before she sobs in equal parts due to pleasure and expectation.

Wanda turns her head to the crook of your neck, her hand coming up to grip your hair and pull you down. She sees the visible effects the potion has on you — your dilated pupils that have overtaken the whites in your eyes and the darkened veins surrounding them. In other circumstances, she might have found the changes to be too nightmarish, concealing your usual bright and cheery disposition, but all it does is make her clench her pussy on your cock.

Your hips falter for a moment, before you're leaning down to kiss her, your tongue swiping through her parted lips.

“Want you on your back, Wands,” you gruffly say.

Wanda scrambles to follow your request, moaning when your cock slips out of her, already missing being full of it. She catches sight of your cock, shining with the mix of her come with yours. Your hands pump slowly as you watch her get in position.

She's been married to you for decades and if she counts the years you've dated on and off until the two of you finally stopped being stupid, Wanda has known and tasted you for over a century. And yet for some inexplicable reason she feels shy under the intensity of your gaze. She squeezes her legs together.

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” you say lowly, your hand that was previously on your cock coaxing her thighs apart.

Wanda blushes at the wetness of your palm but she lets you part her legs. The heat in her cheeks fires into an inferno when you push her leg up and over your arm.

“Y/N—” she starts, stops and cuts herself off when she feels her arousal drip on her legs.

“Want to watch you fall apart for me,” you say as you settle on top of her, innocently kissing the apple of her cheek as if you haven't just manhandled her into a position that she's sure to feel for days.

Wanda hums, spreading her legs wider to accommodate you. Then you're slipping inside her cunt once more, the wet squelch of your cock sliding inside is filthy and all too loud in the dim room.

You don't give her a warning or let her get used to your size, going straight to pounding her in the mattress. Wanda chokes on a moan. Her hands claw on your back, nails digging and scratching red welts on your skin.

In this position you reach so much deeper than before that Wanda, in her lust drunk state, feels like you're poking her womb.

“Harder,” she cries out, “fuck me harder, Y/N, please, please, wanna get pregnant with your baby.”

You do as you're told, thrusting as hard as you could — propping yourself on one hand while the other snakes between your bodies to flick her clit.

At the added stimulation on her bud, Wanda bites down on your shoulder to muffle her scream as she gushes on your cock, her orgasm ripping through her like a tidal wave. But you don't slow down, if anything, Wanda feels you go faster until you bury yourself to the hilt, your come spurting in short bursts.

Your climax flooding her womb triggers another wave and Wanda's coming again.

When you feel tethered enough in reality, you roll to the side, boneless and floaty. You gather your wife in a tight and sweaty embrace, fingers tracing random circles on her stomach, waiting for her to come back from her high.

She captures your hand in hers, intertwining your fingers before turning to face you and snuggling under your chin.

“That's one hell of a magical encouragement, don't you think?”

Wanda laughs. “If you don't get me pregnant even with all of that, I don't know what would.”

[warmachineran]

gonna post the next day of kinktober in a few! bc i have a busy weekend coming 😵

[warmachineran]

not my ass forgetting to include a title....

[warmachineran]

October 7: face riding

TAGS: 18+ only, wanda x reader, reader has a penis, face riding, cunnilingus, pure smut | .8k

A/N: here's day 2 of kinktober, this is a direct continuation of day 1 (just bc both are pure smut) but it's not required to read it. again... not much to say other than have fun! 🙈

main masterlist | kinktober 2025

Wanda crawls up on your body, her hands and tongue taking an extended detour on your tits — massaging the flesh with rough hands and tracing wet circles on your perky nipples. When she's satisfied that she had sufficiently loved both of your tits, she climbs higher, until she's kneeling on top of you. Her pussy swollen from neglect and dripping through her panties.

“Fuck, baby, you're so wet,” you whisper, running your hands on her underwear.

Wanda takes a fistful of your hair in one hand, the other grabbing on the headboard. “It's your fault.”

You grin at her, pulling her hips down to settle on you. “I need you to pull your panties to the side baby.”

Wanda huffs but does as you say, one hand bunching the fabric to the side.

“Good girl,” you whisper against her pussy, before diving in with your tongue lapping at her folds. You groan at her taste — sweet, tangy, and all yours.

Wanda bites her lip at the feel of your warm tongue against her, clenching the wooden panel of the bed.

Moving up, you capture Wanda's clit and suck it hard, your tongue pressing down on the hard bundle of nerves. Her thighs are tightly clenched on either side of your head, muffling her sounds of pleasure. As much as you love hearing your girlfriend's moans, the feel of her trembling thighs on your cheeks more than makes up for it.

When you look up at her, you see her biting the hem of her sleep shirt, exposing her midriff to the cool air. She’s let go of her hold on the headboard to roll her hard nipple between her fingers. The sight of her — drunk on pleasure — makes you feral. You pull away from her clit, your hands tightening their hold on her hips.

“Grind on my tongue, make a mess of me,” you say, your voice wrecked.

You flatten your tongue on your lower lip and with your grip on Wanda's waist, you pull her down and coax her to move on her own.

It doesn't take much convincing and before long, Wanda's grinding on your face. Her hips pressing down on your chin, smearing her arousal on your tongue, your lips, your cheeks.

Her frantic movements make it difficult to continue holding her panties to the side and it kept slipping in place. With a groan of frustration, Wanda sits up and takes it off, throwing it somewhere in the room.

“Stick out your tongue again,” Wanda says as she goes back to hover on top of your face.

You grin up wickedly at her, doing as she says. You so love it when she gets demanding with her pleasure, oftentimes manhandling you to the positions she wants you in.

She goes back to sit on your face, going straight to grinding on your tongue. Your hold on her hips have gotten slack, more about feeling her warm skin on yours and less about you having any semblance of control in directing her movements.

You watch her face, memorizing the little expressions she has — her tongue poking through the corner of her mouth; her lips parting open in a soft exhale when she slows down to stave off her orgasm; her brows scrunching together when her clit catches on your nose.

Her tight grip on your cropped hair feels heavenly, every sharp tug of her hand making you feel tingly all over. Your mind fuzzing over the edges.

You've basically become a glorified sex toy with Wanda's single minded focus in smearing her arousal all over your face.

You snake your hand from its place on her hips towards her torso, still covered by her sleep shirt. Your touch is reverent on her damp skin. When your fingertips brush the swell of her breasts, you hear the muffled hitch of her breath. You don't think twice about cupping her tits, your thumb zeroing on her perky nipples.

Wanda looks down to meet your hooded gaze, holding it while she changes the rhythm of her movements. She grinds slower, harder. Your jaw aches and both your lips and tongue feel numb, but you don't push her off. You know she's close.

“Suck,” she whispers, moving her hips until her clit is at the perfect place for your lips.

You don't relent until your girlfriend is shaking on top of you — tongue flicking over her bud in swift motions, circling, pressing down on it.

She taps your arm three times to signal that she's done and when you let go of her, she moves down to rest on your stomach.

You must look debauched. The lower half of your face is drench with Wanda's come.

“Good morning,” you greet her cheekily, voice raspy with both sleep and the remnants of lust in your veins.

Wanda slides off of you and settles back on the side of her bed, innocently wrapping her limbs on you like she hasn't just fucked your face. “Good morning to you too, sleepy head.”

[isthatmyjacket-rhiyo]

I'm gonna marry this dumbass someday - Wanda x Natasha

summary: inspired by the prompt: Wanda watching Natasha doing something stupid (or vice versa) and just smiling because they get to marry this "dumbass" someday.

tags: fluffy, established relationship

It was a Tuesday. A gloriously mundane, blessedly mission-free Tuesday. Rain pattered against the panoramic windows of the common area, washing the city clean and creating a cozy, insular world just for them.

Wanda was curled on the overstuffed armchair in the corner of the living room, lost in a thick, leather-bound book of old Sokovian fairytales. She was wearing one of Natasha’s old, worn-out SHIELD sweatshirts and a pair of fuzzy socks.

The air was still and quiet, filled only with the soft rustle of turning pages and the gentle drumming of the rain. It was perfect.

Natasha had been in the Tower’s private gym for the past hour, a fact Wanda was grateful for. Not because she wanted Natasha gone, but because post-workout Natasha was a specific and wonderful phenomenon.

She’d come back flushed and pliant, her muscles loose, her guard down, and she would melt into Wanda’s arms like warm wax.

Wanda heard the soft padding of footsteps. She didn’t look up from her book, a small smile playing on her lips in anticipation. She waited for the familiar weight of Natasha leaning over the back of her chair, for the soft kiss to her temple.

But it didn’t come.

Instead, she heard a soft thud as a gym bag was dropped, followed by a faint, almost inaudible humming. Wanda’s brow furrowed. She marked her page and peeked over the top of her book.

Natasha was in the open-plan kitchen area, her back to Wanda. She had her hair piled in a messy, precarious bun, with little damp strands clinging to her neck.

She was still in her workout clothes: a dark red tank top damp with sweat and black leggings. She had opened the refrigerator, and was staring into its brightly lit depths, one hand on her hip, completely oblivious to Wanda’s gaze.

And she was dancing.

It wasn’t the elegant, fluid grace of a trained ballerina. It wasn’t the deadly, economic movement of the Black Widow. It was a tiny, ridiculous, side-to-side shuffle. A little shoulder shimmy. A slight bob of the head. She was grooving, completely lost in her own little world, to a song that was only playing in her head.

Wanda felt a bubble of laughter rise in her chest and quickly suppressed it, pressing her lips together. She sank lower in her chair, a silent observer to this secret, one-woman party.

Natasha finally selected her prize – a carton of orange juice – and, instead of just closing the door, she used her hip to swing it shut, adding a little spin to the movement. The spin was… not graceful.

She was slightly off-balance, stumbling a half-step and catching herself on the counter. She didn’t seem fazed. She just unscrewed the cap and, after a quick glance around the empty room, brought the carton directly to her lips, taking a long, satisfying swig.

A drop of orange juice escaped, tracing a tiny, glistening path down her chin. Without missing a beat, she wiped it away with the back of her hand, her little shuffle-dance never ceasing.

Wanda’s heart did something painful and wonderful in her chest.

This was THE Black Widow. The woman who could walk into a room and assess every threat, every exit, every weakness in under three seconds. The woman who had stared down gods and monsters without flinching. The woman whose name was a whisper of fear and awe in the darkest corners of the world.

And here she was, in their kitchen, dancing badly, chugging orange juice straight from the carton, her hair a disaster, a small smudge of dust on her cheek she didn’t know was there. She was goofy. She was unguarded. She was entirely, completely, breathtakingly real.

All the moments of their life together flashed through Wanda’s mind; the fierce kisses in the heat of battle, the gentle hands tending to her wounds, the shared nightmares chased away by a warm embrace, the quiet mornings spent just like this. All of it, the terror and the beauty, the sacred and the profane, it all culminated in this. This stupid, perfect, private moment.

A slow smile spread across Wanda’s face, so full of love it felt like it might crack her open. The thought arrived not as a whisper, but as a lightning bolt of absolute certainty, a truth that settled into the very marrow of her bones.

My God, she thought, her eyes tracing the line of Natasha’s shoulders as she did another little shimmy. I’m going to marry this dumbass someday.

It wasn’t a hope. It wasn’t a dream. It was a fact. Like gravity, or the turning of the earth. She was going to spend the rest of her life watching this incredible, ridiculous woman dance in the kitchen.

Right then, Natasha, perhaps sensing she was being watched, turned her head. Her eyes widened as she saw Wanda peeking over the armchair, a wide, fond smile plastered on her face.

Natasha froze mid-shuffle, the orange juice carton still clutched in her hand. A deep, furious blush crept up her neck, painting her cheeks a shade that almost matched her tank top. She looked utterly mortified.

Wanda didn’t laugh. She just unfolded herself from the chair and walked slowly toward the kitchen. She took the orange juice from Natasha’s frozen hand, screwed the cap back on, and placed it on the counter.

Then she stepped into Natasha's space, wrapped her arms around her neck, and pulled her close.

“What was that song you were dancing to?” Wanda murmured against her lips.

“I wasn’t dancing,” Natasha mumbled, her face buried in Wanda’s shoulder, her voice thick with embarrassment.

“Of course you weren’t,” Wanda said, her voice laced with a love so potent it was practically a physical force. She kissed her, a deep, slow kiss that tasted faintly of orange juice and promised a lifetime of rainy Tuesdays. “It was beautiful.”

[warmachineran]

October 1: blowjob

TAGS: 18+ only, wanda x reader, reader has a penis, blowjob, pure smut | .7k

A/N: ok so here's day 1, not much to say other than enjoy! 🙈

main masterlist | kinktober 2025

You don't remember what you were dreaming about, only that it was wet and warm and it felt heavenly to the point that you were annoyed you got pulled from it.

When you blink away the haze of sleep and your eyes have adjusted in the darkness of your room, you catch a glimpse of your blanket shifting. And then you feel the warm, wet cavern enveloping your cock.

You hurriedly remove the blanket covering your lower half and from her place between your legs, Wanda looks up at you — eyes dark with mischievous lust, mouth full of your hard length.

She waits until your gaze is locked on her, your mouth parted in soft gasps, and then she's taking you deeper in her throat.

○●●○○○●

You must have been having a very nice dream, Wanda thinks, when she's woken up by your insistent rutting against her backside.

She has half a mind putting a pillow between the two of you — going back to sleep sounds more enticing than mounting and riding you until you wake up with your cock buried inside her — but then you're moaning breathily against her ear, Wanda's name falling from your lips.

The sudden onset of her arousal was not surprising in the least. Wanda's well aware that hearing you getting lost in ecstacy because of her has always been a sure fire way to get her going.

With a huff, she goes through the process of untangling herself from your arms and crawling to your side of the bed. She unceremoniously spreads your legs wider, settling on the now empty space. Your cock is straining against your sleep shorts, a wet patch forming on the fabric.

Wanda licks her lips, tugging your shorts down and throwing it somewhere in the room. Even with the darkness of the room, she sees the tip of your cock flushed pink and shining with your precum.

Without much fanfare, Wanda starts with getting a taste, her tongue meeting your cockhead with gentle kitten licks. She feels your leg twitching uncontrollably and when she hears your soft grunts, she takes the tip inside her mouth. At her first suck, your leg kicks out.

Wanda lets her saliva pool inside her mouth, making sucking you off so much wetter and sloppier — your precum mixing with it and dripping down your length. Just like how you both like it.

She snakes a hand between her legs, palm cupping her mound through her wet cotton panties. She bobs her head on your cock with purpose, sucking and massaging the tip on her throat. She matches the pace of her hips grinding down the ball of her palm to the rhythm of her mouth.

At a particular hard suck, you unconsciously bucks your hips, burying your cock so much deeper in her throat that Wanda gags and cums unexpectedly. Her orgasm was small and unbidden and only made her hornier.

Then she feels the blanket covering her suddenly removed, your gaze hot and heavy trained on her.

Once Wanda knows you're fully awake, or at least more alert, she dives back in and starts an unforgiving pace — faster and deeper when going down on you, then sucking hard when she comes up — all the while keeping her eyes locked on yours.

When you reach down to grab a fistful of her hair, Wanda moans with your cock still inside her. The vibration has you clenching your toes. She lets herself become slack under your grip, letting you move her head and dictate the pace. Before long you're fucking her face with short, shallow thrusts.

The only warning Wanda got before you're coming down her throat was the whispered curse falling from your lips, almost buried under the cacophony of your quiet grunts of pleasure, Wanda's muffled moans, and the sloppy sounds of your cock going down her wet throat.

When your hands let go of her hair, falling limp on your sides, Wanda knows you're done. She pulls away, licks the corners of her mouth, and watches you catch your breath, your arm thrown over your eyes.

“Just… just let me catch my breath, I'll return the favor.”

[warmachineran]

ran's kinktober 2025

this kinktober list will feature one-shots, ranging between short ficlets to longer ones with masc!reader / reader with penis ♡

it will be smutty and filthy so this is strictly 18+ only! all fics will have their own separate warnings. please remember you are the one responsible for the media you consume!

first time joining kinktober im excited and also nervous and remember, transphobes are not welcome in my blog!

a month of fun under the cut 🕶️ (the dates are still subject to change unless otherwise stated)

October 1: blowjob | w.m. x r (.7k)

October 7: face riding | w.m. x r (.8k)

October 11: breeding | witch!w.m. x longlived!r (1.5k)

October 14: somnophilia/masturbation | w.m. x r (.9k)

October 18: thigh riding | ceo!w.m. x personal assistant!r (1.8k)

October 21: fuck machine | w.m. x r

October 25: strip poker | w.m. x n.r. x r

October 28:

October 31:

[warmachineran]

so like. i know it's too late to even think about it but i just realized there's no dark theme in any of the fics i wrote for kinktober 😬

anyway... there would be no scheduled time when i'll post, it's truly just me and at what time i'll wake up 😗✌️