Big Monsters Giving Their Tiny Human Partners Oral

predator animal falling in love with prey animal. You really love to see it.

not to be a dirty commie or anything but i don't think any one person should have enough money to solve world hunger and then get to decide not to

Being hunted down by something that wants to eat you? Meh. But being hunted down by something that wants to breed you? A big predator mindlessly tongue fucking your mouth while it creampies you raw and repeatedly in a mating press, leaning over you and gripping your ankles like handle bars. Packing your tummy to the brim with thick, potent, beast cum and impregnating you with your first litter of big, strong, pups. Giving you more and more because you take a rough fucking and good seeding so well.

What's wrong pup? I thought you liked playing with your toys?.. Oh, is it too much? You've made such a mess, I wouldn't be surprised if your brain leaked out of your puppyparts by now. It's okay, sweet thing, there's no need to cry, you can cum a couple more times for me can't you? You can? That's a good pup, you're always such a a good pup for me.

winter soldier au with John Price who was held in a gulag for three years and comes home wrong. comes back snarling and furious and threatening to rip apart the goddamn world if they don't give him what belongs to him, what's rightfully his, if they don't give him back his fucking wife, right this second—

the only problem is: John's ex-wife remarried. she's halfway around the world, and Laswell knows John enough to immediately squash that idea right away. but if not her, then who?

and then you walk into the room—a newly hired secretary that John has met less than a handful of times; a pencil pusher barely even a blip on the radar—but he pounces. snatches you up before any of them can react, tucking your bemused face into his chest, cradling you tight; possessively clutching at you as Kyle tries, and fails, to calm him down.

"you don't know her, sir. just let the girl go—"

it's met with a nasty snarl. all gleaming, bloodied teeth. a stranger in a familiar shape as John drags you further away from them. "this is my goddamn wife."

his declaration is met with shock. you're definitely not his wife. you barely know him much outside of a several, threadbare exchanges where he breathed down your neck about filing the wrong reports, and the cluttered mess of your desk ("a goddamn eyesore—"). you're not even friends. and in all honesty, you didn't even think he liked you that much. so. wife?

but he's beyond reason. his head a mangled, trenched mess of artillery fire and Makarov's torture. three years, Kate breathes. three whole years.

you can tell, almost immediately, by the look on her face that this—that you—will become a necessary loss in the grand scheme of things. and when John lets her close enough to whisper into your ear (having somehow convinced him that he can just walk out of here with you, his fucking wife, leaving for the marital home (and bed) that he demands from them for this brief stalemate)—she hurriedly tells you about their plot. this high risk, no reward scenario of playing along. not that you have much of a choice.

keeping John Price as close to them as possible was worth more than something as flimsy, as malleable as your agency, your autonomy. and if the way to do it was to let a brainwashed man play house with you, then so be it.

she, at the very least, offers a grim sort of smile even though you can see her working out the mechanics of it all as she makes promises on your behalf. things like, yes, John, you can leave with your wife. she missed you so much, John. she's so happy you're home.

"we kept your wife safe for you, John—" no one seems to react to the violent way Johnny has to be dragged out of the room by Ghost, kicking and screaming at the injustice of it all because th' captain wouldnae do this! don't do this t'him!

and John—if there's any part of that man still inside him, he doesn't let an inch of it show—just nods, lip pulling up into a snarl as he bullies you closer to his chest, and growls about finally getting you home.

"I'll keep you with me," he rasps, blunt fingers spreading wide over the fill of your body. a mad, twisted gleam of possessiveness, ownership, burning in bruised blue as he familiarises himself with this body he claimed as his. "right where you belong, wife."

(the word comes out in a bite. snaps around you and sounds just like mine.)

Everytime I see your small text and pink fonts I want to scream because I know it's gonna be tastyyyyyy

Can I request Ghost taking charge, but getting lost in the sauce and letting out the most delicious little whimpers and whines?

I don't think he even knows it's the sound of him losing his mind that's your undoing.

simon riley getting reduced to pathetic sounds because of your dreamy pussy

simon is a man of control. it's in his nature to be in charge of everything around him, his surroundings, his soldiers. everything, even you.

but what he didn't anticipate was how fucking heavenly your cunt would feel wrapped around his achy cock, tight warmth squeezing him in as he rutted helplessly further and further. a man of control reduced to nothing, but pathetic whines and grunts. noises he doesn't even register.

your legs are numb over his shoulder, his arms flexing on either side of your head, that you desperately claw at for reprieve, with his head drooped between his shoulders. you swore warm, slick drool dripped from his swollen, chapped lips onto your breasts as he whimpered mindlessly. it was that good.

he also doesn't even realise, but he's fucking himself and you into oblivion. he's in heaven, and you can't pry him from the gates, he's lost. you lost count of the amount of times you came, and if he was wearing a condom, there's no doubt it's burst or leaking from being stuffed full, a creamy ring coating his cock. your arousal paints his hips and thighs.

time is lost of the two of you, and it's a long while before he falls on top of your broken body, sweaty and rung out from the amount he put you through.

and the bastard falls asleep within 2 minutes of his collapse, snoring your ear off, still buried deep in your achy, sore cunt. good luck getting him off, he sleeps like a log, and he's heavy like a rock.

*opens tumblr*

*gf (top) reads this over my shoulder and agrees*

*closes tumblr*

“my daughter turned out completely fine” your son barks while getting fucked and asks to be bred until he passes out

Damn guys, I didn't realise the thirst would be strong with this one! Thank youu

It goes without saying but I'll say it anyway, if your going to repost please do so with credits to me as the original artist. If you don't believe I drew this, the watermark is also my insta and twitter so feel free to check it out.

Anyone who wants to save this picture and use it for edits, their wallpaper or as inspiration for a fanfic that's more than welcomed, just again, please credit me if you decide to do so.

My coms are open but if anyone has any other fanarts they want to suggest, I'm all ears. (Inc nsfw)

Thank you again for the support on this 🙏 ❤️

Stalker! Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Thought the degenerates of tumblr would appreciate my latest piece of Simon as I do.

Time taken: 10 hours 45 minutes

Stalker! Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Thought the degenerates of tumblr would appreciate my latest piece of Simon as I do.

Time taken: 10 hours 45 minutes