collection of reblogs

Pure Vanilla Cookie was always a gentle soul, and it reflected wholeheartedly in his relationship with you. Always patient, always kind, especially when it came to the bedroom.

The two of you even had your first times together, where he'd shook underneath you as you sat down on him, sliding into you smoothly, like a lock clicking into place.

It felt right. He was the perfect, adorable size for you.

Then, when he left for Beast Yeast you missed him so terribly, so deeply.. and yet you couldn't bring yourself to touch yourself without his presence. You knew he loved to make you feel good, so something in the back of your mind told you he'd be disappointed if he wasn't there to witness your pleasure.

When he came back? He was different. Taller, his beauty like no other. A presence, a radiance that outshined all else. To stand beside him was an honor- a fever dream to know he was all yours.

But his awakening posed a problem you hadn't seen coming.

His dick was fucking massive. Every part of him was, really, but especially that log between his legs. Before, he was, well, modest. You loved him and you loved his body, and you were glad he previously could fit into you so easily with… some of the activities you put him up to.

You knew he'd never hurt you. He'd sooner crumble than soil a crumb on your body.

Yet it was hard to not feel intimidated when he first showed his face, sunnier than ever… you could barely keep a straight face because of the very pronounced bulge in his robes.

It should have been flattering– and don’t take that the wrong way, it definitely was– but the idea that he was so openly aroused in public by the mere sight of you set off alarm bells. 

Before, he'd been a little more shy in his affections, only letting himself become worked up in the privacy of your own chambers. ‘I'd prefer to not expose any of my subjects to that side of me.’ He'd told you one night, flustered as you curled his vanilla cream hair.

But now, he was absolutely shameless. Proudly displaying his need for you in public– even as the castle servants glanced, mortified by seeing their king in such a way. 

On the first night of his return, he'd followed you around like a lost puppy, desperate for a chance to decompress with your company. You still had one more request to polish off before you could retire for the night, and you found yourself in the castle's library reading over some old manuscripts that hadn't yet been modernised. 

He sat with you quietly, providing small inputs on the translation. Getting to share such a comfortable silence with you was what he’d been yearning for. Beast Yeast was hectic, and he’d had barely a moment to rest– the cracks still ran deep in regards to the Spire, too.

And well, you couldn't really blame him when the crux of his robes started rising the moment your thigh bumped his. It was innocent- you’d merely been reaching over for a change of ink, but it sent his heart leaping, body temperature quickly rising. 

You didn't notice his suffering at first, absorbed in reading over your work while your husband squirmed beside you– in fact, you didn’t until he gingerly took hold of your wrist. You looked over to him inquisitively, gasping as you witnessed him. Flushed just lightly, tilting his head so his hair cascaded down his shoulders like liquid gold. 

When he spoke, his voice was low, tentative, but sure. 

“Dear… I apologise for doing this but…”

He slowly guided your hand, feeling your stomach jolt as you realised just what the big problem was. 

“I need you. Please, may I have you?”

You’re speechless. It feels… superheated, like the scalding surface of an oven. His silky robes slid so smoothly over him, thin enough that you could feel the shape of his cock with distinction. It felt thick, heavy in your palm as you squeezed him, in shock over what you had your hand wrapped around. 

His hips tilted forward just barely, chasing the gentle constrict of your hand. Soft lips part as he sighs in content, head falling lax into his collarbone. Robes bundled up around him, inviting as they reminded you of disturbed sheets. 

Witches– they barely hid anything. You watched in awe as the bulge swelled, growing harder beneath your very fingertips… and it was big. Sure, he may have been on the smaller side before, but this had just gone overboard. Even though you were only feeling the top of it, your fingers would have no chance of meeting each other if you’d tried.

How did it feel so hot, so heavy? Was he not even wearing underwear? You’re practically jerking him off already with how thin these robes are.

You squeeze him just barely, trying to process just how much you were dealing with here, and found yourself suddenly melded to him. He hooked his arm around your hip, unashamedly taking a fistful of ass as your face is pressed into his generous chest. His hips bucked against your limp hand. 

“I'm sorry about this my dear,”

The situation was devolving way too quickly for your liking– he’d slipped off the top of his robes in a fervor, letting it pool around his waist in a bid to free his heated skin. You weren’t safe either, as he lifts you effortlessly and sets you face down on the couch. He wasn’t rough– but there was no room to squirm away from his roaming hands as he kept you stationary with one hand on your shoulderblades. 

His warm weight settles atop you, rolling his needy cock against the back of your thighs. Your pants and underwear are yanked mercilessly down your ass, he doesn’t even bother to remove them completely, simply leaving them caught between your thighs. It only made you feel more vulnerable.

You gasp as he grips your hips and gives one heavy grind, sliding the fat base directly against the seam of your lips. You're genuinely afraid he's just gonna try and shove it in– previously, you could take him without any prior prep, but now? Witches, no.

You hiss again as he gives another languid grind, your slick only just barely starting to coat him with how terribly big he was. 

“You're so… petite, now. Y/N”

Anybody would be little next to you dude– oh no.

The wide tip presses wholly against your hole, the light pressure he exerted not even beginning to spread you apart. There was no relent even as you wriggled nervously against his hold on your hips, even daring to coo at your nervous sounds.

He simply nudged himself against you, making a mess as his size smears your own slick around like a too-big paintbrush. 

“I missed you so much my love. Every night– I thought about you. I yearned for you. I saved myself for you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the confession. Did he really feel the same way–?

“And… I'm sorry if it's a little cruel of me, but I just can't wait anymore,”

And your heart subsequently drops as you feel the widest pressure you’ve ever felt down there grow, fat tip teasing your tiny hole open. It could barely even start to nudge past the tight ring of muscle, and you grit your teeth as some part of your makeup starts to shift. You’d never experienced something like this, like he threatened to tear you apart and shape you anew.

But, besides for that first opening feeling, and as he pants and whimpers with how much he needs to be inside you, he can't just fit himself past your tight entrance. 

There's a pause as he audibly pants, giving a tiny little moan that you knew so well– and unfortunately, it meant he was aroused out of his mind.

You feel cold wetness land on you down there- did he really just fucking spit on you?

Even though it was gross, it was the extra bit of lubrication that did the trick, as you feel the pinching stretching start with distinct horror. You can’t help but give a tiny sob as the tip of him pops into you all at once. The sound of it was embarrassingly loud, and your hips grew weak as you regretfully experienced what it’d be like to sodomize yourself with a soda can. 

How could your husband be so cruel when he's so much larger than you? You were reduced to breathy whimpers, begging him to be gentle repeatedly. He didn't even let you go completely limp, holding you up as he ever so slowly displaced your insides with his cock.

Your head hangs heavy as all you can feel is your husband and how cruelly he's shoving himself into you. Is this karma for how thoroughly you've tortured him in the past? 

Your head hangs heavy, unable to keep the strength up as though him shoving his cock into you had sapped it all away. All you can feel is him, your beloved husband, and the cruelty he’s putting your body through to satisfy his own needs. Is this karma for how thoroughly you've picked him apart in the past?

Him being so dominant was unheard of in your relationship– being gentle was simply a part of Pure Vanilla. It was ingrained into his dough, and you'd gleefully taken the role of dominating such a darling cookie. 

You suppose it was hypocritical to blame him when you’d subjected him to the worst of your own desires.

Sure, you’d been a little mean with it, but did the Witches really think it was an appropriate punishment to give your husband a strong libido and a literal fucking horse cock?

He gave tiny, mean little ruts into your body, fighting against the resistance just enough to not tear you, but still unrelentingly opening you up further and further. You’re horrified to see only a quarter of him has sunk into you. 

Witches– You’d really been calling upon them alot tonight. But it was warranted! You’d realised the two of you were still in the library. This was public!

He only smiled at you when you told him with a panicked expression, patting your head like it was just all something he’d planned.

The old Pure Vanilla would never do something like thisssSS-!

Oh-!

With a hiss, he sank several inches into you at once, your whole body locking up praying he wouldn't just shove the whole thing in. Until he bumped into a wall deep inside you, sending you reeling. Oh no way! 

Only half of him had fit, and he was shoved right up against your cervix, leaking pre directly into your womb. There's no way he could fit any more!

But he didn't acknowledge that. Leaning over you, he presses ghosts of kisses to the back of your neck. Uttering quiet praise and, most ominously promising you that ‘we can fit the rest next time,'.

It was completely still, only the flicker of candlelight convincing you time hadn't stopped as you tried to cope with being smothered from the inside and out. His hair fell over you like a curtain, blocking your view so that there was nothing in your world but him. 

Everything was hazy, his warmth seeping into your body soothing your tensed muscles. There was only so much you could relax, feeling him push against you from all angles.

But the moment's rest was long deserved– if he moved at all right now you think something would actually break. 

His skin feels so smooth as he nuzzles into your cheek, pressing tiny kisses to the edge of your lips.

“You feel so lovely… like I've truly come home.”

He claims your lips, using one hand to tilt your jaw up, then shakily breathes out.

“This is new for us isn't it? Normally you treat me so well. Every night in Beast Yeast, I'd imagine you touching me– riding me, so perfectly like you always do.”

His arm– so much more toned then it used to be– slides under your tummy, squeezing just barely into the plush… you could feel just how strong he'd become, even with him exerting barely any pressure.

“I feel close already just thinking about it. Do you think tomorrow night, you could do that for me?”

Witches. He wasn't lying. You felt him pulse inside you in exquisite detail, and shivered as a shock of heat dribbles into you. An omen that made you shiver just thinking how much he'd cum if he was leaking this much already.

Tomorrow night...?

You breathed out, before your voice locked up as he began to pull out.

Bracing yourself on his arm underneath you didn't stop it from feeling like he was pulling out your insides with him. Sticky fluid bubbled from where he stretched you open.

There was no way you could even begin to think about tomorrow when you're not sure you're going to survive tonight.

It was hot. So very hot– the copious amounts of slick that coated him as he pulled out. A lewd mix of his overwhelming pre and your body frantically trying to keep up with what it's being subject to.

You could feel in terrible detail the relief that settles into your pelvis when he pulls out until his tip kisses your hole, ready to shove back in to fill your stomach to bursting.

The poor library sofa… it'd have to be replaced with how badly it had been defaced.

He presses his lips to your temple before breaching you all over again, a slick sound ringing out. His moan vibrates against your skull, barely able to process the pleased sound as he purposely grinds against the deepest part of you.

There's barely any time to rest before he's pulling out again.

Everything about it reads gentle– how he kisses you, and holds your head up when it lolls weakly. But there was no room to be gentle with how big he was compared to you. 

The pace he set, ever so slow, felt brutal all the same. In fact– it felt even more torturous as he let you feel every single inch and every ridge of him scraping along your walls.

You reach back and steady a hand on his thigh, the other gripping the couch for your life, feeling how the solid muscle tenses. His neglected robe had pooled over his knees, brushing against the backs of your own as he moved.

“Ng-”

Feeling his thigh shove against your hand as he thrust makes you dig your nails in on reflex, earning you the roughest buck into you yet, a wet squelch accompanying. 

“Ah-! Do that again!”

You’ve made a big mistake.

His pace picks up, rocking your body helplessly while giving light hums of pleasure. He had absolutely no right sounding that pretty as he stuffed himself inside you again and again. The raw stretch worsened as your insides ached with the need to orgasm already– your abstinence had not been kind to you, and even the rough treatment was making your stomach feel heavy with the need. 

Everything started to buzz around you, witches you were gonna cum– each thrust sending you closer to the deep end as he began to whimper into your ear.

“So, Hn!- wet for me… so beautiful.”

Your walls could barely even begin to constrict around him, and the inability to move only worsened the hold cumming put on your body. But still, you shook underneath him like a leaf as he relished in your body, pressing kisses to your throat as he whined.

“Ah- Dearest! I need more- again, again… haa!”

The heat ontop of you disappears, Pure Vanillas cock slipping from your body and bumping wetly against your inner thigh. You're then yanked backwards, your arms collapsing under the pressure, cheek smushing into the couch helplessly.

He grips the tops of your thighs firmly and holds you airborne like nothing, even holding you one handed for a moment as he notches himself against your pussy and shoves deep unrelentingly stretching you once again.

“It'll be okay– I'll be done soon- just- more… more! more!”

He grew more and more desperate with each plea for more, bucking into you harshly in such a way that you knew you'd be insanely sore in the morning. You feel like nothing more than a toy as he holds onto you like a lifeline, using your body to pleasure himself. 

The wet slapping was so deafening, you barely heard him speak.

“Mnn! Gh- cumming soon- you'll take it, right d-dear?”

“Oh, I kn-know you will. I'll give you all of me.”

Fuck.

He's already starting to stutter into you, grinding himself harshly into the front of your tummy. You'd done something like this to milk him plenty of times before– but it was so much more overwhelming having it done to you, your sensitive G spot tortured relentlessly.

And you could feel how much he was leaking and pulsing, he was so close and he was gripping you so hard and-

“Mmnnh! Oh!”

His grip suddenly became vice-like, digging into the fat of your hips and fighting to fit as much of his cock as he could into you. Even as you gasp at the uncomfortable stretching sensation, painful sparks echoing through.

You're smothered again as he returns to leaning over you, his heated stomach pressing into your back. He was moaning way too loud in your ear.

With how taut you're stretched around him, you feel every pulse and the gooey feeling inside you grows. Each spurt inside your cervix makes your body involuntarily clench around him– but with how swollen he's gotten, you barely can.

It feels so… limiting. You can't move, can't clench around him, only let out a little squeal as your body locks up weakly in orgasm.

It barely even felt pleasurable, just enough to throw your mind for a loop as your belly is filled so thoroughly. With how much he's dumped into you, it's begun dribbling down the front of your pussy like syrup. You flinch from the overstimulation as the heat rushes past your clit as it drops in fat globs onto the couch.

He's panting on top of you, shaking as he milks out his orgasm with tiny little thrusts, and you jump weakly with each one. Even the little kisses he peppers to your cheek and lips you can barely respond to.

You're completely limp, even as he shifts you onto your back and lays on his side, leaning on one arm. He had no right to look so loving, after doing… all that. To you. And he still hadn't pulled out! He shifted inside you as he leaned down to kiss you– chaste first, then holding your head to deepen it.

One large hand splayed itself protectively on your sweaty, cum coated tummy. It was then you realised how much he bulged out of you, a slight round bump full of his cock.

He unashamedly felt it over, making you whimper as you're compressed from the outside.

“So perfect…”

He nuzzles his nose into yours.

“Look at that. I fit so well into you– just like I did before, hm?”

It's absolutely not like before!

Another unintentional clench around him pushes out a wave of cum– and makes his eyes crack open just barely to watch how it bubbles out. Seeing his love ooze out while you two were still connected so deeply.

You have to shove him away by the chest as his constant pecks grow more heated.

He looks unbothered, even as you complain about doing this in a library, and how the sofa would need to be replaced and how the hell did it get on the floor?! How do you even cum that much?!

There’s an appalling level of uncaring he never displayed before as he stood, tucking you neatly into the crook of his arm with his cock still sunk up to your womb. You can't help but whimper as it shifts against your hypersensitive insides, rapidly cooling semen still dribbling from you. 

He shrugged his robes on, pressing gentle kisses to your teary cheeks, although you swear it was just an excuse to lick the tears away… the care was appreciated none the less. But what you wanted most was to get out of that stuffy library. Whispering sweet nothings to you, he left that miserably defaced couch behind. 

Every step towards your quarters was pure torture. Your tummy felt overstuffed, his cock plugging up all the cum he’d stuffed inside you. Embarrassingly some did still drip out onto the marble floors. 

You had to pull your own underwear up for some shred of privacy, although with him still inside you couldn't fully cover yourself.  

You’re a little worried as to why he hadn’t pulled out yet– and you were craving being relieved from feeling like your pelvis was being pried apart– but you were thankful to not have to walk.

The whole walk you were praying nobody happened to be roaming the halls at night– Pure Vanilla's gait was leisurely, letting you fully feel each step jostle him inside before the next. He walked like he had nowhere to be, while your grip on his shoulder tightened with every corner he turned.

You were about ready to pass out once finally shouldered your bedroom door open and laid you out on the sheets. They were soft, made from the finest cream sheep's wool, having been raised by Pure Vanilla himself, of course. 

“My love?”

Oh- you hadn't even realised you were dozing off, so taken over by his heat and presence your brain was actively fighting you for some rest. The days without him hadn't been kind.

His vanilla scent was cloying, more comforting than any cream sheep cotton you could buy.

He ran the backs of his knuckles over your cheek, leaning down to kiss your nose. His full eyelashes tickled you, and you groaned just barely at being woken up.

“We need to get cleaned up… you can't sleep yet. I'll carry you for just a little longer.”

He pulled back just the slightest amount, your own muscles tensing as you feel all the cum plugged inside you start to rush out along with him-

And frantically have to tell him to stop before yet another surface is lost to his virility.

You're glad you picked up on that- although slightly less glad to feel it all squish back into you as he hilts himself again, not so subtly shivering as he teases himself with your pussy.

“Ah-”

His hair tickles you as his head drops, breath shaky. This time, he kisses you properly, too impatient for any decorum.

The ribbons shimmer faintly in the low light—silver and slippery where they coil around your wrists, binding them snug above your head. Your arms ache just a little from the stretch, but it’s nothing compared to the slow, aching need between your legs.

Your thighs are slick. Breath uneven. Your chest rises and falls in shallow pulls, nipples perked from the cool air and the humiliation of it all.

Shadow Milk Cookie crouches at the edge of the bed, elbow resting on the mattress like he’s settling in for a show. He’s not even touching you right now, which somehow makes it worse. His eyes drink in every inch of you—bare, squirming, wet—and he smiles.

"Such a delicate little hostage," he murmurs, dragging a finger up the inside of your thigh without ever touching where you need him most. "Gods, you're a vision. Tied up so sweetly, flushed pink…"

His voice drops lower, more amused. "And all this for our dear, righteous hero. He really does bring out the best in you." You turn your head, cheeks hot. “You’re—crazy—”

"Mmm. Not crazy. Committed.” His fingers circle your thigh again, never quite dipping into your slick, just skirting the edge. “And you love it, don't you?" You whimper. Not yes. Not no.

He chuckles.

“He’s probably already on his way, you know.” His eyes flick lazily to the door. “Sensed your little cries echoing through the ley lines. How romantic.” You shudder when he finally leans in, breath grazing your neck, his tongue flicking out just to taste the salt of your sweat.

“He’s going to barge in like the hero he is,” he whispers, lips ghosting over your skin. “And do you know what he’ll see?” His hand slides—finally—between your legs, stroking slowly through your folds, gathering your wetness on two fingers.

“He’ll see you dripping for me. The oh, so handsome, and frankly intelligent villain! ”

You moan, involuntarily, biting down on your lip as his fingers toy with your clit. He tuts. “You poor thing. This must be so confusing for your sweet little heart.”

You buck your hips, trying to get more friction, but he pulls his hand away just as quick—licking your arousal off his fingers with a delighted sigh.

“You’d better hold out a bit longer, flower,” he says, grinning. “We haven’t even gotten to the part where he challenges me for your honor.” He stands, fixing his coat, his cock already straining in his pants as he watches you pant and writhe.

“I do hope he gets here soon, though,” he adds, voice light. “Because you’re already halfway ruined.”

And from the doorframe, soft and dangerous—

“Step away from her, Shadow Milk.”

The voice is quiet. Dangerous.

You lift your head—barely. Your vision is still hazy with tears, slick, and embarrassment. But you see him.

Pure Vanilla stands in the doorway, staff gripped tight in his hand. His robes ripple faintly with the power radiating off him, his eyes locked on yours.

Shadow Milk doesn't flinch. He only turns his head slightly, that cruel, glittering smile already spreading. “There you are, my sweet little nilly,” he says, as if greeting an old friend. “She’s been calling for you, you know. Moaning your name so prettily.”

Pure Vanilla doesn’t answer. He just steps forward, his gaze dropping to your tied wrists, your exposed, trembling body, your thighs still slick with Shadow Milk’s teasing. His jaw tenses.

“Let her go.”

Shadow Milk sighs dramatically. “You’re so dull, truly. Don’t you ever get tired of making threats without flair?”

Pure Vanilla raises his staff.

“Now now,” Shadow Milk says, wagging a finger, “no need for lightshows. I’m offering you a chance.”

Pure Vanilla stills.

“A duel,” Shadow Milk says smoothly, stepping aside to motion at you like you’re a prize on display. “The classic. Hero versus villain. You know how this works.”

“What are the terms?” Pure Vanilla asks coldly.

Shadow Milk’s grin sharpens.

“Her.”

Your breath catches.

Pure Vanilla’s eyes flick to you again. You’re panting softly, cheeks burning, arms trembling in their binds.

Shadow Milk continues, smug and slow, as he circles the bed. “Let’s say… we compete. Not with swords. Not with spells. But with this—” His hand slides over your slick, ruined cunt, and you sob as your body jumps. “Let’s see who can bring her more pleasure. Who she cries harder for. Who fills her better. Who she breaks for first.”

Silence.

Then, Pure Vanilla steps forward. His expression doesn’t change—but his fingers flex at his side.

“If I win,” he says calmly, “you will not touch her again.”

Shadow Milk laughs. “And if I win? You’ll watch.”

Another pause.

Pure Vanilla kneels beside you. His fingers touch your cheek, gentle. Reverent. He brushes a strand of hair from your forehead, and his voice—soft, steady—makes your heart break.

“I won’t lose.”

You whimper as your binds shimmer and release—not for your freedom, but so they can reposition you. Your legs are lifted and spread between the two of them, your body now the center of a quiet storm.

“Ready, princess?” Shadow Milk whispers, palming himself through his pants.

Pure Vanilla leans down, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmurs. “I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

And then the duel begins.

Your legs shake where they’re spread, one ankle hooked over each of their shoulders. Your body’s been pulled down the bed, hips propped up on a pillow, wrists free but too weak to move. You’re soaked—shaking—done, but the duel hasn’t ended.

Because you haven’t said who won.

“You’re moaning louder for me,” Shadow Milk purrs, licking a long stripe up your breast before closing his lips around your nipple and sucking. “I think that’s one for me, Vanilly.”

Pure Vanilla doesn’t even look at him. His fingers pump into your cunt—two of them, deep and slow, curling just right to make your hips twitch and your thighs spasm.

“She came harder on my fingers,” he says softly, lips brushing your cheek as he kisses you between shudders. “She clenched so tight I could barely move.”

You can’t even speak—your voice is a breathy mess of broken sounds and swallowed cries. One of your hands claws uselessly at the sheets, the other tangled in Shadow Milk’s hair as his tongue swirls and teases your other nipple.

“Her chest is so sensitive now,” he hums. “Must be all that attention I’m giving her. Maybe she’s a titty girl, Vanilla.”

“Stop calling me that,” Pure Vanilla says calmly, but his voice trembles slightly.

“Vanilly,” Shadow Milk sings, grinning against your skin. “Come on~ admit defeat. My mouth and my hands were working overtime while you were still finding your rhythm.”

Pure Vanilla slides his fingers deeper, his palm grinding perfectly against your clit. Your head snaps back and you let out a sharp cry, hips jerking.

“Rhythm,” he repeats, curling his fingers again. “Which you’ve never had.”

Shadow Milk chuckles and latches back onto your nipple, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. You sob.

“Oh? Because she seems to be enjoying herself quite a bit with my mouth on her.”

You’re writhing between them now—cock-drunk and oversensitive, your cunt leaking down onto the sheets and your chest shiny with spit and attention.

Your body rocks between the two of them—Pure Vanilla’s fingers stroking deep inside your soaked cunt, curling up to press perfectly against that sweet, aching spot, while Shadow Milk’s tongue circles your nipple again and again, lips warm and wet, pulling whimpers out of you like he’s playing an instrument.

Your thighs twitch. Your spine arches. You feel it building, again, the pressure curling tighter and tighter in your belly, your toes curling from the sheer overwhelming heat of their hands and mouths and words.

“That’s it,” Pure Vanilla breathes, voice shaking just a little. “Come for us again, sweetheart. Just one more time.”

“Mmm, scream for us,” Shadow Milk purrs, teeth grazing your chest. “And tell him it’s me you break for.”

Their voices blur as your climax crashes over you—your vision whites out, your thighs clamp around Pure Vanilla’s hand, and a sob breaks from your throat. You come hard, juices dripping down onto the sheets, your chest heaving, limbs jerking like a puppet whose strings just snapped.

They slow.

They pause.

You’re gasping—sweating—your head lolling to the side.

Shadow Milk leans in first, grinning. “Well? Who did it better, flower?”

Pure Vanilla kisses your temple, still composed but hungry. “It’s alright. Take your time. We want your honest answer.”

You try to speak.

You do.

But your mouth opens… and nothing comes out but a breathy, wrecked whine.

Your eyes roll slightly as your hand grips the sheets again, trembling.

“Oh, for—” Shadow Milk groans, pulling back with a dramatic toss of his head. “I broke her before we even finished the game.”

“I broke her,” Pure Vanilla corrects, softly but firmly.

“You wish.”

“She came on my hand.”

“She came with my mouth on her tits.”

“She couldn’t even say your name—”

“She couldn’t say anything, Vanilly!”

They both turn to you again—slumped between them, eyes glassy, chest still rising and falling like you just ran a marathon.

You try again to say something—anything.

It comes out as a garbled, breathy, “…too much…”

They look at each other.

Silence.

Then Shadow Milk smirks.

“…Rematch?”

Pure Vanilla sighs. “We’ll go slower this time.”

Your legs are lifted again before you can even protest. Shadow Milk kisses your cheek while Pure Vanilla slides his hand back between your thighs—his voice low, careful, and so, so sweet.

“We’ll take our time, my love. Until your body can speak for you.”

---

Notes: Reader has a vagina + is Transmasculine, Bottom!Reader, Threesome, Double Penetration, Overstimulation

Your knuckles turned white as you gripped the sheets and you struggled to hold on until you could feel that sweet release. Shadow Milk Cookie purred in satisfaction at seeing you writhe beneath him.

"Oh~ good boy, you're such a good boy~" Shadow Milk praised. "I'm much better for you than silly old Pure Vanilla Cookie, aren't I, baby?" He cooed sweetly. Your body burned hot and tingled with every addictive thrust. It was all too much for your overstimulated body to handle. Still, at the same time, it wasn't nearly enough to bring you a sense of peaceful satisfaction. You moaned, panting hard from the pleasure-filled haze of multiple orgasms clouding your mind. Your heart pounded, and your body trembled with each piston of his cock. The sound of Shadow Milk Cookie's voice filled your head, whispering filth to you and urging you to cum one for time for him.

Pure Vanilla Cookie stood off to the side, frowning with his arms crossed as he observed and waited for his turn. He narrowed his eyes in annoyance as the Beast slammed his hips into yours relentlessly. Shadow Milk's roughness shook the bed making it creak from the activity.

"That's right~ Pure Vanilla Cookie can't satisfy you like I can, baby. C'mon~ you can admit it!" Shadow Milk Cookie breathed. The Ancient Cookie had enough and quickly grabbed the Beast Cookie by the shoulders, pulling him off you, and leaving you feeling empty, your hole clutching tightly around nothing. You whimpered as the moment of rest made your mind flood with the awareness of how much your dough was aching. But the only thing you could focus on was your orgasm slipping away.

Shadow Milk Cookie growled angrily under his breath as he was forced to stand back and watch Pure Vanilla Cookie slip inside you. You cried out softly as he pushed deep within your insides and began thrusting slowly and gently. Even with Pure Vanilla's tender ministrations your overstimulated body made every stroke feel like you were drowning in pleasure, each thrust against your sweet spot would almost send you over the edge again and again.

Pure Vanilla Cookie brushed strands of your hair, damp with sugar sweat, from your forehead with his fingers tenderly, and kissed you lovingly. You gasped slightly as your stomach did a flip. You didn't notice any more intense pleasurable aches, instead just a soothing warmth spreading throughout your body. Pleasure tingled in your belly and it made you moan. You wrapped your legs around Pure Vanilla Cookie's waist.

"Don't worry, my dearest love. I will pleasure you properly. I won't be so rough with you and use you for my own pleasure like Shadow Milk Cookie." Pure Vanilla Cookie said softly.

"Hey!!" Shadow Milk Cookie barked angrily. His expression twisted into one of displeasure. His body shuddered at the sight of the man he despised taking you so easily. This was a competition to win you over, after all. Whoever could pleasure you best would get to keep you.

Pure Vanilla Cookie kissed your neck eagerly to punctuate each rock of his hips and you felt your orgasm just on the edge of bursting through. You clung to Pure Vanilla Cookie desperately. "Pure Vanilla Cookie, I'm so close!!" You cried. Pure Vanilla Cookie smiled as he could feel your walls fluttering around his length, and he began to thrust faster eagerly.

"Cum for me, darling." Pure Vanilla cooed sweetly. The Ancient Cookie pulled away from you, only to use his thumb to gently rub the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs in time with his thrusts. Shadow Milk Cookie gritted his teeth in annoyance. He could hear the ecstasy in your cries, and he wanted so badly to be the one inside of you.

Tears flowed from the corners of your eyes with each deep thrust, the build of pleasure was too much to bear. Your breath caught in your throat as you struggled to keep up with Pure Vanilla's steady rhythm. A flash of heat made your body tense with anticipation. The sensation overwhelmed you until you couldn't take it anymore, and you quickly came undone on Pure Vanilla Cookie's cock. You dug your nails into Pure Vanilla's dough as waves of stinging, hot pleasure rippled through you. Your vision turned white, and your mind became blank for a brief moment as your pleasure reached its peak before slowly fading into bliss. All your muscles relaxed, and you lay your head on the mattress tiredly. Pure Vanilla Cookie stroked your hair affectionately.

You were utterly exhausted. Surely, this competition was over now, right?

You thought so until you noticed that you were suddenly sandwiched between the two Cookies. Shadow Milk held you tightly against his chest, his fingers digging into your thighs while you straddled him, and Pure Vanilla pressed his chest against your back, pinning you against the slender jester. You could feel their hard, throbbing erections grinding against your sensitive holes. Your face flushed brightly in embarrassment. Shadow Milk Cookie grinned wickedly as he watched you squirm helplessly, his eyes shining with lust. He drew his tongue slowly up your neck and grunted as his cock prodded your slick entrance.

"Now, let the real fun begin~," Shadow Milk said huskily. Pure Vanilla Cookie kissed the back of your shoulder gently.

"I'll be gentle with you, my love." He reassured.

You gasped and whined as Shadow Milk and Pure Vanilla Cookie slowly pushed their thick members into both your holes simultaneously. Shadow Milk wasted no time plunging his cock deep into your aching pussy, and you cried out loudly with each slam of his hips in a brutal rhythm. Pure Vanilla had mercy on you with deep, gentle strokes, and the dissonance between the two rhythms ravaging your holes created an indescribable pleasure that you didn't think possible. It sent tremors of ecstasy through your whole body.

You were soon gasping for air. Pure Vanilla Cookie leaned down to suckle on your ear while his thrusts became quicker, making you choke out cries of praise. Shadow Milk Cookie locked his lips with yours, messily tongue-kissing you passionately. Each hard thrust brought new bursts of pleasure shooting straight into your core. Your body trembled in ecstasy, and tears of pleasure filled your eyes, unable to take any more stimulation without exploding. Your holes clenched Shadow Milk and Pure Vanilla's cocks tightly, and they knew you well enough to tell that you had reached your limit. Pure Vanilla continued to thrust deeply into your tight passage. At the same time, the tip of Shadow Milk's cock repeatedly kissed the entrance to your womb. The building wave of pleasure finally crashed down onto you with a shattering roar that drowned out everything else. You couldn't even scream as you came harder than you ever thought possible. The world disappeared in a flash of white.

Shadow Milk and Pure Vanilla groaned and cried desperately as they pounded into your soaked holes. As they hit their climax, they both bit into each of your shoulders, and filled you with their seed at the same time. Their moans and heavy breathing filled the room as they collapsed onto you. They rested there quietly, letting their bodies relax from the incredible exertion as their cum lazily dripped from your quivering holes.

After a long quiet moment, Shadow Milk Cookie spoke up.

"So… Y/N Cookie, who do you think was the best~?" He panted. Shadow Milk Cookie blinked in surprise when you didn't respond. You had completely passed out, face stained with tears and drooling onto his chest.

"I knew you would be too rough with them." Pure Vanilla Cookie frowned worriedly.

"I wasn't the only one who was rough! You couldn't help yourself either." Shadow Milk Cookie argued.

Seeing you were out cold, Shadow Milk Cookie and Pure Vanilla Cookie did you the favour of lovingly cleaning up your unconscious form. They gently laid you down as if you were the most precious thing in the world and slipped into bed beside you. Shadow Milk spooned your calm, naked body. Pure Vanilla rested your head on his chest, affectionately stroking your hair and kissing your forehead.

His arms are stretched above his head, wrists bound in pale golden ribbon—his own, laced with magic that shimmers faintly in the soft light of the room. They wrap snug around his skin, glowing as if proud to restrain their master.

Pure Vanilla lies exposed on the bed, flushed from head to toe, breath shallow as he stares up at you and Shadow Milk.

Or rather, the version of Shadow Milk who now straddles his hips, curvy and feminine, with a wicked smile and silver-streaked hair falling over her breasts. She leans over him slowly, mouth hovering just above his, eyes gleaming.

“You look so divine like this,” she purrs. “All tied up, flushed, helpless.”

His voice trembles. “P-Please… let me touch you…”

“No,” you murmur sweetly from where you sit beside him, running your fingers down the center of his chest. “Tonight’s not about giving. Tonight, we’re going to make you take everything.”

He shudders—his cock already twitching, slick against his stomach from earlier touches.

Shadow Milk chuckles as she slides down, dragging her mouth over his throat, his chest, nipping softly at his nipple until he moans, arms pulling against the ribbons uselessly.

“Poor little healer,” she croons. “You’ve given so much. Isn’t it time you were ruined a bit?”

You lean in close, lips brushing his ear. “You’ll be good for us, won’t you?”

He nods frantically, breath hitching. “Y-Yes… I’ll be good… please, please—just let me—”

But you’re already lowering yourself to his face, and Shadow Milk is sliding herself slowly onto his cock.

He gasps—loudly—eyes flying wide as you both settle over him, warm, wet, tight.

He can’t move. Can’t thrust. Can’t touch.

All he can do is moan and take it, over and over, tears slipping down his cheeks from the sheer pleasure of it all.

His body is slick with sweat.

The sheets beneath him are soaked, the soft gold ribbon around his wrists now taut with tension—his fingers flexing, useless, over and over. His mouth is parted, trembling, breathless whines spilling out like prayer.

Shadow Milk—still in her feminine form—rocks slowly on his cock, her pace infuriatingly gentle. Every time he tries to thrust, she holds him down harder, shushing him like a misbehaving pet.

“Shhh. We’re not done yet, Vanilly,” she whispers, lips ghosting over his jaw. “You don’t cum until we say so.”

He’s been edging on the brink for what feels like hours.

His thighs tremble beneath Shadow Milk’s hips, every sharp, slow grind of her dripping cunt dragging another sob from his chest. She’s riding him cruelly slow, hips circling, body flushed with sweat. Her voice is honeyed and lazy as she looks down at him.

“You’re still hard,” she purrs, tightening around him with a smug twitch of her hips. “Even after all that? What a good, desperate little thing you are.”

But he can’t answer.

Not when his mouth is buried between your legs.

You’re straddling his face, grinding down into his tongue with a soft moan. One of your hands is in his hair, guiding him, the other resting on his chest—right over his pounding heart.

Every whimper from his throat vibrates through your core. Every flick of his tongue is shaky, sloppy, eager. He’s trying his best—worshiping you, serving you, even as his hips buck up uncontrollably into Shadow Milk’s soaking pussy.

He’s crying now.

The ribbon at his wrists pulses gently, as if sensing his breakdown. He sobs into your cunt, voice muffled and high-pitched, the words nearly lost between your slick and his desperation.

“Mmmph—p’lease—mmnh, I-I—please—’need to—cum—p’lease—”

Shadow Milk leans forward, dragging her nails lightly down his chest. “You don’t get to cum yet, Vanilly. Not until we say so.”

You grind harder against his mouth, shivering as his tongue trembles inside you. “You wanted to serve us, didn’t you?” you coo, breathless. “So be good. Take it.”

His hips jerk again, cock throbbing inside Shadow Milk’s tight heat, his mouth falling open against your cunt as another moan escapes—pitiful, raw, wrecked.

His voice is nothing now but helpless, wet pleading.

You look down at him, flushed and ruined between the two of you, and smile.

“You’re such a mess,” Shadow Milk laughs, leaning down to kiss his throat. “Let’s see if we can break you completely.” He can’t form real words anymore.

Your slick is smeared across his chin, his tongue lolling helplessly out as you rock against his face. His nose nuzzles against your clit, lips trembling with every muffled sob. Above him, Shadow Milk moans as she grinds down harder, using his cock like it was made for her—because it is.

His chest is heaving, wrists tugging weakly against the glowing restraints, knuckles pale. He’s been edged, milked, overstimulated to the brink again and again—and now, he’s gurgling little cries into your cunt.

“Such a good boy,” you whisper, fingers tangled in his hair. “You made me feel so good, baby.”

Shadow Milk leans forward, her voice silk and sin against his sweat-slick ear. “You want to cum, don’t you, Vanilly?”

He sobs through your pussy, eyes rolling back.

“Mmmph—p-please—pleaseplease—!”

“What’s the magic word?” she teases, her pace picking up, tight walls pulsing around him.

You glance down, voice soft but firm. “Say it, love. Say what you’re feeling.”

His hips stutter beneath her—every muscle straining.

He pulls his mouth from your dripping cunt just enough to cry out, loud and broken:

“Thank you—f-for ruining me—!”

Then he cums.

Hard.

His whole body spasms, thick ropes of cum spilling deep inside Shadow Milk as he whines, shakes, and sobs through it. His cock jerks helplessly inside her, his legs kicking beneath the sheets, face sticky with your slick and his own tears.

He doesn’t stop crying.

Even as his body collapses back into the mattress, wrists slack against the ribbons, his lips still tremble with soft, hiccuping thank-yous.

Shadow Milk leans down and kisses his tear-streaked and slick covered cheek with a grin.

“Good boy,” she whispers.

You stroke his hair as his breath slows, as the golden glow of the ribbons dims.

“Now rest,” you coo, kissing his temple. “We’ll take care of you.”

And he does. He falls asleep—tied up, spent, soaked—and completely owned by you both.

---

It strikes you as odd that it’s warm, you expect it to feel cold, but it was heated beneath your touch. You press another finger to it, carefully rubbing over it with intrigue. Pure Vanilla shudders, the effect immediate. You don’t stop, now cupping it in your palm. You can nearly feel appreciation through it, and you see it clearly on his face. Brows scrunching up and cheeks turning a deep red, his breath is already ragged too.

You rub your thumb over him and he grabs at your hips, grounding himself. You nearly stop, feeling bad for how much this seemed to get to him, but he opens his eyes and gives you the most lustful stare beneath heavy lashes. You’ve never seen such a look on his face, but you can’t help but find it beautiful.

You give him what he wants, pressing him into a deep kiss as your other hand cups the other side of him. You continue your slow strokes as you make out with him, tongues clashing desperately against each other. You can tell his mind is foggy from how slow he reacts to your challenges, and the little moans that he sighs into your mouth. You pick up the pace of the stroking, using your whole hand to service him.

It gets him huffing, unable to keep up with the pleasure and your mouth. You allow him the grace of leaning against your shoulder, instead of forcing his mind to split two ways. His hands are digging into your sides, pressing you as close as he can get you. It’s like he can’t get enough of it, and he pulls you onto his lap pressing his face into your shoulder.

It’s harder to play with the souljam like this, but when he begins to rock his hips up into you, you find you don’t care. You match the pace of your fingers with the pace of his thrusts, which he figures out quickly and abuses for his own use. Speeding up enough to have your head lulling back as you continue stroking him like your life depended on it.

He falls back into the mattress after a moment, giving you access to ride him through his pleasure. Your fingers massage the warm thing as your hips move in time, eyes appreciating the sight of him falling apart beneath you. It was rare you got to take care of him like this, so you wanted to savor the sight of his screwed up face. Each thrust is followed by a broken moan, hands grabbing at you as if that might make things easier on him.

As you watch him, feel what makes him who he is, a thought crosses your mind. Depraved, and maybe crossing a line, but you had to try. You lean down over him, feeling his eyes squint on you in confusion when you remove your hands from his souljam. It doesn’t last long, your lips pressing against the jam. He gasps, fingers curling into your hair - not pulling, just encouraging you to continue.

Naturally, you do, kissing him slowly. You can feel it heat up with each kiss, which only encourages you to continue. Another thought pops up, just as bad as the last, but Pure Vanilla has been nothing if not receptive. You’re sure he won’t mind if you get a little taste. So, you open your mouth, locking eyes with him, and lick a slow stripe across the rounded surface.

He groans in a way you’d never heard, pressing his hips into yours with a newfound desperation. You squeal when he flips you over, giving you a disapproving frown. Seems that was a little too much, but he couldn’t be too mad, not when he quickly pushes your clothes aside and sinks himself inside you. Leaning over you, burying his face into your neck again, he begins without any fanfare.

The pace is faster than usual, hips meeting yours eagerly. Each thrust is deep, dragging against your walls deliciously. Your fingers find his souljam, continuing their previous ministrations, and he groans again. It’s so unlike him, all of it, but you like it. It’s a new side of him that he’s trusting you with, you can only hope to see more in the future.

When he comes undone, it is the loudest cry you’d ever heard from him. Broken and desperate, cracking through the quiet of his quarters like lightning. His body trembling in your grasp like the aftershock, but his hands remain firm and strong against your dough. He fills you up with warm sticky goodness, reminiscent of the heat of his souljam. It feels nice, to be so surrounded by him, and you know he feels the same too.

You press gentle kisses to the side of his face, calming him from his high. He returns to earthbread slowly, chest heaving against yours with effort. When he is coherent again, he gives you a smile — warm and typical from him. Your sweet Vanilla coming back to you with all the love in his eyes.

“I might have gotten carried away,” He admits shyly.

You smile, “I don’t mind. It was nice.”

He hums, nodding in agreement. His souljam is hot between your bodies, warming you further where it rests atop your clothes. When he pulls away he kisses your cheek, taking a moment to admire you before leaning back with a satisfied smile.

“We should do that more often,” You mumble from your spot in the sheets.