[Pietro rarely asks for what he wants, not in this way, content to grumble about Wanda's slow and gentle touches that drive him crazy. He likes that despite his complaints, he does, but sometimes it's not enough or it's too much, and he needs something hard and deep and so present it doesn't get lost to his detachment from time. Her nails bite sharply, and though she's agonisingly slow about it, as always, Pietro likes the fire they leave behind, sensations that still linger endlessly, but not in the same way as something soft and light and out of reach, and his heightened enjoyment of it is obvious in the pleased noises he can't hold back.]
Fuck.
[It's all he gets out at first, too distracted by her hands on his ass and that growl in her throat. When he does have something coherent to say, it's not demands or instructions, but what he wants the result of it all to be.]
I want to feel you tomorrow, still, all over me.
[So even if he does go out alone like he said he would, the memory of Wanda's fingers will be imprinted in his skin, and every time he moves they'll remind him who he belongs to. He'd never say as much, not unless it's dragged from him under duress, and he chooses to be somewhat vague enough that he can deny he asked for it later.]
no subject
Fuck.
[It's all he gets out at first, too distracted by her hands on his ass and that growl in her throat. When he does have something coherent to say, it's not demands or instructions, but what he wants the result of it all to be.]
I want to feel you tomorrow, still, all over me.
[So even if he does go out alone like he said he would, the memory of Wanda's fingers will be imprinted in his skin, and every time he moves they'll remind him who he belongs to. He'd never say as much, not unless it's dragged from him under duress, and he chooses to be somewhat vague enough that he can deny he asked for it later.]