#he makes me go so feral oh my god

[pogueswrld]

Hello! Can you do a smut as a femme afab with ASM Peter Parker? If you feel comfortable can you please do some bondage with his webbing? Thanks a ton!

BONDAGE WITH HIS WEBBING ARE YOU INSANE ANON ilysm omfggggg

*•.¸♡ stuck in your spider webs ♡¸.•*

pairing: peter parker x fem!reader

warnings: smut obvi 🦢, porn without plot lol, both reader and peter are switches, web bondage, edging, praise, mommy kink, multiple orgasms, oral (both fem & m receiving)

note: I wrote two pieces- peter tied up and reader tied up for whichever one you like most, hope y'all enjoy this!!

tying up peter was a simple task. you were surprised at his enthusiasm when you brought up the subject; his head nodding, a dazed look in his eye- already picturing the sight, mouth drooling and cock twitching in his pants.

he complied with every request and demand that tumbled off your lips, slowly stripping off his clothes and laying still on your shared bed, panting in anticipation for your next move. in your hands was his web shooter, inspecting it closely before pulling it onto your wrist.

you raise a single brow, "hold your hands above your head." peter did so without complaining, his eyes zeroing in on his web shooter on your wrist. you did his famous motion and a single string of web aiming at his joined hands stuck them to the headboard of your bed and the wall behind it. peter spared it a single glance, tried to free his hands, and whined when he realized he could not do so.

it didn't take long for you to expose his erection and even less time to have him moaning and begging for your touch, bucking up his hips into your hands as they wrap around him, tip red and dripping precum down his throbbing length.

you talk him through it, cooing at his whines and cries for the taste of sweet release as you casually praise him.

"That's it, such a good boy. look at you pretty baby, making a mess on our bed. you like this, don't you? working so hard to please mommy."

and he trembles. absolutely breaking apart at your words, unable to keep quiet as his entire body shakes at the force of the orgasm you pulled out of him. and it wasn't the last, as you push him to the brink and drag him back again, altering between your hands and your mouth as he whines and jerks beneath you, the webs holding him back from touching you or forcing his cock down your throat like he's done so many times before. he was completely at your mercy and he enjoyed every second of it.

getting to tie you up wasn't as easy of a task for peter, but from how enjoyable it was for him you figured you'd give it a chance. and boy were you so thankful you did.

he coaxed you into bed, kissing up and down your neck, softly nibbling at your skin while simultaneously kneading at the skin of your hips and sides. he was so smooth with it, his hands sneaking up to your arms, intertwining his fingers with your own before bringing them above your head. he pulled back momentarily, smirking at you stupidly before sending a web to your joined hands. your gasp of surprise didn't deter him as he pulled off his shirt and continued down the path he'd set for himself.

he'd start by eating you out; a pillow placed underneath your ass with both of your legs resting on his shoulders, one of his arms lazily draped across your hips, his thumb casually caressing your skin there while his other hand is buried deep in your cunt, three fingers curling and uncurling themselves, working your inner muscles up to a mind-numbing high while his tongue lapped up at your juices and pressed random figures on your puffy clit.

he knew all your sensitive spots by heart, and he made a point to pay extra attention to them, forcing loud moans and gasps out of your bruised lips. his eyes blink up at you from between your thighs, blown pupils capturing every expression on your face to memory. those same beautiful brown eyes roll to the back of his head as you grab a handful of his hair by the root and tug as an orgasm washes over you, he moans into your pussy, and the vibrations make you let out a silent scream followed by whimpers of his name.

he wishes he had your self-control and your ability to not ride him when he was tied up, but he doesn't which is how he ended up with his cock buried deep inside of you, his eyes blinking down at you. he wishes he had a camera on him to take a picture of you; tied up, hickeys and bruises mark your skin, a trail leading down to where your body swallows him whole, your tits bouncing with each thrust.

"fuck- baby~" he whines, losing his rhythm temporarily, his hands going from groping at the skin of your ass and hips to your boobs and face, he was working overtime to pleasure you first and foremost. "look at how good you're taking me- jesus, you're gonna kill me~"

[hinamie]

i'm exactly as normal about him as I thought I'd be

[crybaby-bkg]

Bakugou who makes it a habit of FaceTiming you out of the blue because he’s horny. Your friend group and his own have had to bear witness entirely too many times to answering the phone and he’s exposed somehow—they always just wanna say hi, ask him how his recent mission is going. They learn after enough times, that when he FaceTimes you out of the blue, to steer clear of your phone until you give them the okay. there’s just been too many times with you answering and then screaming to the top of your lungs as you clutch the phone to your chest and tell him that there are people around.

but does that stop him? of course not, the little whore. he’ll call you after he’s gotten out the shower, so his body is still wet and glistening. he’ll call you while he’s away in some other country, with his dick in the camera and a pout on his lips because he misses your stupid face. he’ll call when he’s this close to orgasming, because seeing you will always push him over the edge.

he calls you one day while you’re working at home, typing away at your computer, your phone propped up beside you. you answer without looking at him, smiling, asking how everything’s going so far and it’s not until you look up, when you gasp.

“Katsuki!” You yell, a little giggle tearing through your words in surprise. “What if someone was around? Again?” You ask him, but it’s hard to remember why you’re this upset when he looks so pretty in front of you. He grunts, still jerking his cock as he sits on the edge of the bed, his phone propped up on what you believe a nightstand, as you can see the way his stomach curls in from how raggedly he breathed.

“You’re alone, right?” He asks in a huff, eyebrows screwing up as he takes in your wide eyes and slightly gaping mouth as you stare at his form. You nod absentmindedly, already feeling your inner thighs starting to get slick, shifting a little in your seat.

“Show me a tit, or something. I miss you.” Bakugou mutters, eyebrows pinched as he twists his wrist over his tip before he slides back down his shaft.

“When don’t you wanna see my tits?” You tease him, but oblige, lifting your shirt, eyes rolling slightly at the downright filthy noise that leaves his mouth at the sight. You don’t even have to play with them, just sit them on display and he’s already so quick to burst all over himself.

You take it a step further though, pushing back in your chair until he can see most of your body where you sit, slipping out of your bottoms and underwear until you’re on display for him. You put your knees to your chest before settling back, thighs on either side of the arms as you spread yourself, smiling at him all the while.

“So fuckin’—shit!” He sounds damn near strangled as he cums all over himself, eyes squeezed shut as he jerks at his cock. you can’t help but laugh when you hear the crackling of his quirk going off, watch how the sheets beside him char and start to smoke in his intensity. He’s always so easy, you think to yourself with a little laugh as you began to get dressed, and you love it.

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

Your stunt double was murdered right in the middle of your kitchen.

Not just any stunt double, either. The one that spent 40 years, an entire lifetime, taking hits and rolling under cars and throwing herself into open fire as you. The one that's not you, but at the same time is maybe a better version of you, the you you would be if you had been just a pinch braver, just a pinch more likable; the one that's not you, but at the same time was the same character as you, and maybe she actually is you, in some ways (after all, you two are so similar that she was killed in your place, wasn't she?).

She was your stunt double, yes. But she was also the one who took your falls, who propped you up, who made sure you didn't spend your lunch break alone. You shared a role, you shared an apartment, you shared a girlfriend.

She took care of you in every way you can take care of a person.

And now she's gone.

It was possible to believe otherwise when she was just an absence on the other side of a phone (even though you knew, right from the start, that something was so, so wrong). It might even have been possible to believe it was all a colossal joke as you were cradling the iron trophies she was so proud to host in her bones. But luminol is unforgiving: you turn off the light and there it all is, her blood, her life slipping away from her right there on the tiles of your kitchen, and the message she left for you, the one thing she knew you'd understand right away, and there's no denying it anymore.

You are Charles-Haden Savage, and your stunt double was murdered in your place right in the middle of your kitchen.

Your hands still tingle with her ashes.

[possamble]

realizing im kind of a weirdo about laios and marcille

[haemosexuality]

some people are very mad at the implication that the LN world is ~All A Dream~ but i dont think thats exactly it? like to me it seems very clear that the ln world is a real place, and all that happens in it is real. i think that what's happening is that when they go to sleep, their consciousness is transported into this paralel reality (the Nowhere) and they leave once they awaken, but as they spent more and more time there they slowly succumb to whatever powers or entities rule that world and they become trapped there. its like. kind of like the dark worlds in deltarune, or the other world in coraline, or the upside down in stranger things, or the fear reality/ies in the magnus archives you get the idea

those entities seem to both feed off of and be created by childrens fear, a paradoxical "it exists because children fear it and children fear it because it exists" thing. in an interview a dev said that "something happened before in [the kids] lives that made them a good fit for little nightmares" and i think that "something" is being traumatized: you have more nightmares that way.

something interesting about six specifically is that she's always described as being from somewhere else, not belonging 'here', etc, one description even says she "awoke in a world she cannot recognize" which. straight up confirms shes Not From This World, but like, if all of the kids came here because of nightmares whats different about her? why do they apparently 'belong' in the nowhere but she doesnt? maybe she has, like, too much willpower to succumb to the powers or something and thus doesnt belong with the other kids trapped here who have all given up, but then again shes also described to be "fading away from this world" at the start of ln2 which does seem to mean that shes succumbing to it? like, giving up and fading away? idk idk

bandai website description, issue 1 of the comic

also from the bandai namco website. six's "terrible fate" might be her succumbing to depression or whatever but have no idea why guiding mono to the signal tower would be important? maybe its not actually about the tower and its just about having a purpose and a friend to hold on to so she still has hope

ok heres my tinfoil hat theory: obv the podcast, the devs, promotional material and concept art all seem to be saying that ''kids go to a nightmare world when they go to sleep and sometimes get trapped there" is whats happening, but this post theorizes that maybe the nightmares noone in the podcast is having are prophetic and like. the nightmares explained video says that "the nightmares are crossing into the real world". what if what happened is that vulnerable kids who kept having nightmares were going to this future reality where the world got fucked up because of these entities, and maybe whenever they succumbed to them the entities were able to use their bodies to cross into our world, which eventually led to them being able to take over? resulting in the future fucked up reality kids were going to in their dreams? its not like little nightmares is unfamiliar with time paradoxes thats basically what happened to mono. idk!!!!

i keep bringing up other media but im not really comparing them im just using similsr exampled to explain what i mean bc its so weird i cant think of how else to do it. anyways what if the kids who fully give up and succumb to the fear become like the goners frok undertale. everyone just forgets they ever existed

[sunflowerrex]

When I say I am Frothing From the Mouth.

[designedparadigm]

thinking over dbd verse ghost and how putting him up as a killer (likely under the moniker of the soldier) works far too well with the way his damaged psyche is.

the way the entity would be able to manipulate the way he views the world as it's already a hairline fracture from going full askew. being put into the fog and seeing all this fucked up shit and a little bit of pushing could just easily teeter an already unbalanced mind past the rational edge. the wondering of did he really die? belief in an afterlife? maybe. it's all muddled up but he's here now.

a man who was so broken down that he only understands orders and killing. so of course; make the order to kill. amplify the whispering in his own head, the intrusive thoughts that cloud him. solidify the way he thinks he's split in two. nurture the side that is ghost and silence the side that is simon.

simon riley is dead. all that is left is ghost. the soldier. he'll never escape the rot buried so deep in his bones. his muscles only move to kill - it's all he'll ever know. take lives, again and again, for the ones taken from him all those years ago. he's a soldier. a ghost. a murderer. death.

take his twisted views - convince him every single person in the fog is in there for disloyalty and betrayal. put him against survivors who undermine each other and sell each other out early into his tenure. show him the things he despises the most. the things he cannot forgive. his humanity slowly being pushed down father and farther until it's at the bottom of the fucked up mess his mind is. until he can barely think straight.

amplify all of these muddled emotions and thoughts during trial. put him in a haze when he's killing. something he might just welcome, a lull, the simplicity of kill. orders were always clear and easy to follow. there doesn't need to be more thought - to play the role of the puppet is comforting in its own sick way. he is the weapon - he was crafted to be wielded, guided. in that way; he is the most at home. the most comfortable. the safest.

[waterfallofspace]

J/JK SEASON 2 S/HIBUYA TRAILERRRRR DAHUSJOIKJLAKSFJGNLNGADKLDJGSLGMN (spoilers in tags)

[lunartrashbin]

The mere thought of Angeal is about to make me an endangered species

[itoshi-s]

ZARI ZARI ZARIIIIII we are one step closer to seeing rin animated and that motivates me everyday SOBBB I BEG PLSSS I NEED TO HEAR HIS VOICE whew anyways pls take this <333

KAYLAAAAA MY LOVE <3 eeeeeeeeeek i am SOOOOOO excited the way im literally havin butterflies right now !!!! i feel like a lovesick puppy ajfhka i NEEEEEEED to see him ! HEAR HIM ! @_@ i will eat my laptop whole when he comes on akjfhsalk i will go RABID !

plsssssss the way they animated their eyes .. SO PRETTY !!!!!! i am PRAYING they do rin's eyelashes well this ep </3 cause look at him !! ughhhhhhh kayla u are KILLING MEEEEE

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Too Sweet

Logan Howlett X F!Reader

Summary: you tell Logan not to hold back anymore. And who is he to deny his sweet girlfriend anything? This is just porn without plot

Wrote this with Xmen/X2 Logan in mind but you may picture whichever Logan suits your needs

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it my children), oral (f receiving), fingering, soft rough sex, Logan talks you through it, creampie, choking, the claws make an appearance (duh), Logan is obsessed with his girl, established relationship

WC: 3.2K

A/N: SOMETHING SHORT SHE SAID. I need to be put down. I am feral over this man. Seeing DP&W got me acting tf up. It put me back into my Logan obsession so I rewatched all of his movies. And now I need him. So here you go. Might write more with him soon. For now is this.

Follow my reading blog to stay updated with my works if you’d like to see more @midnightreadinglibrary

You were sweet. You were, oh, so sweet. Such a pretty sweet thing. You were so going to be the death of him. Playing with the strings of his sanity, of his composure. Worst of all, you were doing nothing at all to make him go insane. Other than love and care for him that was.

He tried, he really did, he tried to keep himself under control when he was with you, and he was doing a pretty good job of it so far. But god, today, today you were going to make him loose his fucking mind. He had decided to visit you, unannounced he stopped by your apartment. And what did he find? You, in the kitchen, in nothing but a red flannel, his red flannel. Speechless, he was. 

Logan stood in silence, blinking slowly as his eyes took in every part of you with growing intensity. Your legs were bare, your ass barely covered by the length of his shirt and you seemed rather happy like this. Is this what you did when he wasn’t around? And why did the sight of you suddenly wake deep within him an overwhelming need to ruin you? 

Almost as if the intensity of his presence got your absentminded attention, you turned your head to find him standing in the entryway with an unreadable expression. And though a little bit flustered by his unannounced visit, you welcomed him with a soft smile.

“Hi Logan.” You greeted him with glee, all but skipping over to him to greet him properly, of course. You were standing on the ends of your toes and throwing your arms over his broad shoulders while he just stood in ominous silence, only a deep exhale leaving his lips. “Are you okay baby?”

“Yeah.” His voice strained with restraint as he fought the deep urge to throw you over the nearest flat surface. Instead he simply placed his hands on your hips, squeezing unevenly as he gave you an eyebrow raise. “New shirt?”

“Oh,” Your lips fell open in a bit of embarrassment and you laughed softly, flustered as you looked down at the shirt that was clearly not yours. It kind of smelled like him still. “Yeah so, my washer broke, I don’t know what happened to it, and I couldn’t find anything comfortable so… Does it bother you?”

Did it bother him? The only thing that was bothering him was his already hard cock straining against his jeans. 

“A pretty girl in my clothes? I would be fucking stupid.” 

The way his words left his mouth made you laugh. But the look in those hazel eyes was anything but humorous. Animalistic and full of need. Your lips curled up into a smile as he leaned down to crash his lips against yours. Messily and intensely his lips moved against yours as his hands squeezed and touched everywhere he could, as if he didn’t know which part of you he craved to feel more. 

“You’d look prettier on your back though.” He muttered against your mouth, lightly nipping at your bottom lip. You were more than happy to comply.

A string of giggles left your lips as his lips tickled over your stomach. You laid flat on the soft covers as Logan settled between the warmth of your thighs. He pried your legs open, fingers digging into your skin as his sharp canines lightly nipped at the plush flesh on your inner thigh. You gasped, though overwhelmed with excitement.

“Logan.” You scolded him, knowing you would have a mark there, but the sound of your voice turned into a delicious whine when he pressed his nose into your panties, inhaling that oh so intoxicating scent of yours. 

An almost animalistic growl rumbled in his chest, “I’ve been thinkin’ about this sweet pussy all day.” He pressed a hard kiss to your hole, the bridge of his nose bumping your clothed clit. The sudden pressure had you gasping for air, your chest pounding with anticipation.

Your panties were off your body and thrown over his shoulder in a split second, his lips latching on to your clit with reckless urgency. One would think this man hadn’t seen you in weeks, when he had seen, and taken you only two nights ago. Alas, that was one the things you loved the most about Logan, his unending need to touch you, to feel you, to be all over you. You thought he would get tired eventually, but his drive was almost animalistic. He never had enough, though he often held back for your sake. 

His tongue lapped at your pussy with abandon. From your hole to your clit, circling and sucking before diving back into your walls. Squirming, you were chasing his mouth with your hips, body overcome with pleasure as he worked your walls. It annoyed him at times, the way your hips moved and lifted off the mattress with sensitivity as he fucked you with his tongue, when his nose brushed against your clit. With a frustrated grunt, he grabbed a hold of your thighs and pressed your knees against your stomach, holding you down and spreading you open for him to do as he pleased. 

“You squirm too fucking much.” He huffed, but there was a slight bit of amusement laced in his tongue.

Your response came in the form of a whimper, a pathetic sound that only grew louder when two thick fingers replaced his tongue inside your wet hole. He looked up at you with pure primal need as his fingers worked your tight walls, crooking against that one spot that had you crying.

“Please, please Logan.” You didn’t know what you were pleading for. Mercy? Sweet release? To be ruined? You didn’t know. 

Logan raised an amused eyebrow at you, wet lips curled up into a tiny smirk as he moved his tongue back to your clit. He licked and sucked to match each delicious drag of his fingers. The sounds leaving him were just as filthy as the things he was doing to you, groaning and grunting into your pussy as he ate you like a starving man. 

It was no surprise that he had you shaking and crying, overcome with pleasure, eyes blurry with tears, your release rapidly approaching. You latched on to his hair, tugging and pulling at the strands as your pathetic sounds filled the room. 

“That feels so—ugh—feels so good—please.” Were you making any sense? No. Did he care? Fuck no. Seeing you so desperate, so consumed with pleasure, a complete and utter mess for him, it snapped something in him. Deep inside the most perveted and secluded corner of his mind, he liked it. And though he shouldn’t, he wanted more. 

Your release was hard and sudden, your loud sounds were almost as overwhelming as the feeling of his tongue still lapping at your sensitive clit. You were writhing on the mattress, nearly crying as you had no option but to take it, it wasn’t like you could run away, not with the way his free held you down, one hand of his was stronger than all of you combined. All you could do was sob and pull at his hair as he dragged out your orgasm. 

“L-Logan.” You pleaded weakly, throat dry as you pushed yourself up on your elbows, chest glistening with a layer of sweet, lightly clinging to the fabric of Logan’s shirt. All you could see was his dark hair before his eyes met yours. The look behind his eyes was indescribable but it had you clenching you around nothing when his fingers left you. 

Your thighs twitched in aftershock when his mouth left you. You felt him press his forehead against your thighs, his hardened breath fanning against your hot skin for a long second. He needed a second to calm down, keep himself under control, he couldn’t let his primal instincts get the best of him.

You ran your fingers along his face, threading through the hair along his cheek and you silently ushered him up. He complied, in an instant settling between your open legs to find your mouth again. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, it was all so much for your clouded mind. His fingers were on your hair as his mouth took yours with growing urgency. You could feel him through the roughness of his jeans, brushing against your clit in ways that made you dizzy. You needed him, and you needed him bad. You reached down, trembling fingers fumbling with his belt, but before you could undress him he was pulling back, rough fingers holding your wrist.

“Hold on, just hold on a minute.” He was breathing hard, chest pounding as he looked at your confused face. 

“Wait, why? What's wrong?” God, you were too sweet, too kind for him, he couldn’t do it. 

“I just… Shit.” He closed his eyes, jaw set as tried to control his clouded mind, but he could only do so much to restrain all of the filthy things he craved to do to you. The way you were looking up at him, eyes big with concern, gentle hands holding his face, preventing him from going anywhere. “I think we should stop. I should stop.”

“Oh… I mean.. We can stop whenever but.. Why? Did I do something wrong?” You were sitting up, and the sadness and disappointment in your pretty eyes made him curse at himself.

“No. No. Fuck, no. I’m the problem. I don’t think I can hold myself back anymore.” He finally admitted it, words leaving his chest with heaviness. Your face remained the same, confused.

“Well, why would you? I never asked you to.” It finally dawned on you what he meant, and you were unbothered, if anything the look on your face was of eagerness. With malice, you threw your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “I don’t want you to hold back with me.”

“Sweetheart..” He was warning you, voice rumbling in his chest as he closed his eyes, one last attempt to keep his composure before it was inevitably too late.

“I won’t break Logan. I trust you. And I want it.” Your last words came out with sharpness, a grueling intensity that had him groaning under his breath. You pressed a kiss to his jaw, almost as if to emphasize your point. And it was like a switch flipped in his head. 

With an uneven breath he was sitting up on his knees, white undershirt thrown to be forgotten somewhere in your room. And you were happily delighted as you watched him toss his belt aside and undo his jeans. He pulled his cock out of his pants with a strained groan and you were holding your breath in anticipation, legs open and welcoming him. His eyes were dark with pure raw desire as he settled between your legs, cock hard and heavy as he kicked the rest of his clothes off like it had insulted him.

“Don’t fucking hold back.” You snapped at him as he held himself up on his forearm, his other hand holding himself against your entrance. Your words shot straight to his cock and his lips curled up into a grin.

“Hold on, pretty.” He rumbled, chest heavy as he sank himself into your wet cunt in one single thrust.

Your lips fell open, eyes instantly rolling at the delicious feeling of his thick and heavy cock splitting you open. It was an intoxicating feeling you couldn’t get enough of; you were fucking sure he had ruined every other man for you. Not that it bothered you. 

The pace he set was grueling from the start, one hand braced on your pillow beside your head and the other on your thigh, rough fingers feeling up and down the skin as he drove his cock in and out of your walls. Sounds of pleasure left your lips almost immediately as the sting of his cock had you dragging your nails up and down his back, leaving red angry marks that healed in a split second. He absolutely adored the burning sensation your nails left on his skin, over and over. 

It was brutal, the way his hips drove you into the mattress as he fucked the life out of you. You did ask him to, you realized that perhaps your lack of restraint when it came to him would indeed be the end of you today, but at least you’d die happy by his cock. His forehead touched yours, eyes on your chest as he forced the buttons of his shirt open. His hand immediately cupped your breast, squeezing and he forced your body up and down on the mattress with each relentless snap of his hips. You cried out, head thrown back as your cunt squeezed his cock, unable to do much other than take everything he had to give you. His hand traveled up your chest to your exposed neck, fingers sprawled over your throat but not putting pressure. 

“Yes. Please, yes, do it.” Delirious, cock-drunk, fucked out, you might have been all of those things, but you were perfectly aware of him surrounding you, caging you in, consuming you. And you wanted all of it.

“Fuck, pretty.” His lips brushed yours as his fingers lightly squeezed your throat. He could feel the air leaving your tightening throat, and the way you squeezed his cock in response had him creasing his eyebrows with pleasure. “This what you wanted? You just wanted it rough, huh?”

You were nodding your head, breathless as blood rushed to your face, the lack of blood flow making you all the more delirious. Absolutely lost, so deep within your pleasure that your brain wasn’t working anymore. All that was consuming your mind was Logan, his scent, his sounds, the tip of his cock brushing that spot that had you squirming. You didn’t even realize tears were coating your cheeks, so lost that your moans had turned into cries. 

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” The hand on your neck moved to swipe away your tears as he leaned down to kiss your cheek in an attempt to bring you back to reality, the gentle gesture a juxtaposition to the ruthless drag of his cock. “There’s not a single thought in that pretty head of yours, huh?”

He adjusted himself above you, his chest pressed against yours, thick hairs tickling your skin with each deep stroke. There was a bit of smugness on his pleasured expressions, seeing you so utterly out of it, his cock being the reason. Seeing such a sweet little thing coming completely undone by his hand gave him a sense of satisfaction that made his cock twitch. 

He held your face, watching the way your eyes rolled back with pleasure, the crease in your eyebrows and your soft lips parted as filthy sounds left you. It was the prettiest of things.

“It just feels so good, huh? Can’t even talk.” he huffed a laugh, his nose brushing against yours as his free hand found your swollen clit and you were gasping as your thighs shuddered, sweet release building. “Talk to me, pretty girl. Tell me how good it feels. ‘Cause this sure feels so fucking good to me.” 

“Mhmm!” It took your brain a long minute to register his words, it was damn near impossible to focus on anything when his cock was making you feel so good, when you could feel your release so close. “Feels so good—Please, need it. Logan please.”

Who was he to ever deny his sweet girl anything? 

Logan moved his free hand to one of your thighs, holding it and bending it so that one of your knees was damn near next to your head. He drilled into you, fucking you into the matress and rubbing harsh circles on your swollen clit until you were nothing but a shaking, sobbing mess, filled with the neverending bliss of your release. 

“That’s it, atta girl.” He pressed his lips to your bruised lips, swallowing the pathetic sounds of your orgasm as he continued to chase his own. Your release seeped through his cock as his hand left your clit. He braced himself on the pillow beside your head he continued to fuck you into his release. “You’re doing so well sweetheart, take it just like that.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you sobbed, the hairs at the base of his cock grazing your clit as he abused your hole. Desperate hands latched on to his hair as you held him, simply taking everything he had to give you. He was close, so incredibly close, composure completely gone from his body as he chased his release with selfish abandon. He dropped his face into your neck, sharp canines nipping at the soft skin, surely to leave a mark or two.

“Please Logan. Come in me. Please, I need it—” Though broken, in between pathetic whimpers you pleaded to him. And if he had any self-restraint left it was fucking gone.

The sound that rumbled in Logan’s chest was purely animalistic, a feral growl and the sound of metallic sharp claws rang in your ears next to your head. You gasped in pleasant surprise, moaning at the thought of him losing control like this. It should concern him, it should. But he couldn’t give one fuck. He coated your insides with his release, eyes closed and eyebrows creased into this twisted expression of rapture. With a couple final thrusts he pumped you full of himself until you were leaking around his cock. Only then did he still his pistoning hips. 

“Fuck.” You heard him grunt in your ear, followed by the sound of his claws sheathing back into his knuckles. Your eyes widened with aftershock and your wash chest was heavy as you panted. 

Logan lifted his head from your neck to look at you, heavy breaths leaving his chest as he tried to bring himself back to reality.

“I… I didn’t mean to..” He trailed off, though slightly apologetic as he caught a glimpse of the three punctured holes on your pillow, he did not regret it one bit. You were quickly shaking your head at him, a tired smile on your face.

“Don’t be. That was like, so hot.” You bit your lip, throwing your arms over his broad shoulders as you pulled him into a kiss. He hummed, hand beside your head as he brushed your hair out of your face. “You owe me some new pillows though.”

“Yeah? Might owe you more than that then.” A smug smirk replaced his concern as he rolled his hips, making you aware of his still hard cock, hot and heavy in your walls. You gasped, wide eyes meeting his own. “What? You thought I was done with you?” 

With a hold of your arm he flipped you on your stomach, the sudden movement making you whimper. But the thought of him taking you over and over sure had you eager in anticipation. Though as his cock sunk into your cunt once more you were beginning to wonder just how much your curiosity was going to cost you. Surely a whole day in bed tomorrow would be in order. He was so going to be the death of you. Little did you know, you were already going to be his.

[princesspsalot]

“Sit on it princess”

After being edged for days I finally thought I was going to get some release - boy oh boy was I wrong

Like a good slut, I did as told and sat my dripping wet pussy on his big, thick cock - moaning as i took every single inch

“Now sit there and hold this on your clit”

I went all wide eyed as the realisation hit - I’m edging myself for him while being a cocksleeve…

Feeling his cock twitch in me and just the pure presence of his cock in my hole was making me more and more desperate.

I started bouncing on his cock to try and get myself off but he grabbed me by the hips and slammed me back down, holding me there

“No movement”

“But Sir I need your cock, please please please let me ride it”

“No - good girls do as they are told and good girls edge for daddy, don’t they?”

“Yes daddy, sorry daddy”

“Turn it up”

I did as told and turned the setting of the clit sucker up - god it felt so good but I was getting so so needy.

The feeling of his dick in me wasn’t helping, it was only making me go more feral.

“Please let me cum daddy”

“Why would I do that princess?”

“Because I need your dick to fuck me, please please pleaseeeee” - I moaned through whimpers

“Nah, turn it up again”

Thinking that I would get to cum if I did as told, I turned it up further.

As time went on and my whimpers became more frequent I needed his dick and I needed it now.

I started grinding and bouncing again, his hands coming towards my hips, I stared fighting against them, going faster and harder in my pathetic little attempt at getting myself off. He got his hands on me and slammed me back down, again holding me in place.

“You’re lucky I’m not making you get the wand out for this. But turn that up as far as it will fucking go and for the love of god - do. not. move.”

I became nothing but a dripping, whimpering mess. It started to feel so so so good, I was so close. But he knew that and he took away my toy, leaving me to be a pathetic, needy little whore on his dick.

[chuluoyi]

✎ all of me

- gojo satoru x reader

you understand that some things in marriage just needs compromise. and he soon understands too, when you're at your most vulnerable and he fails to be by your side when you need him the most

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship (you're married & have a son!) argument, feral gojo, mentions of injury & blood, fluff

note: if it isn't obvious by now i'm in the mood of angst-hurt/comfort this week HEHE :)) this is longer than the usual love entry, so i hope you'll enjoy it!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Bantering with your husband is not uncommon―in fact, it happens on daily basis.

"Satoru― I'm talking to you!"

But having serious arguments with him is another matter entirely.

Your fists tightening at your sides, facing his unamused expression. How insufferable is he? You told him that everyday, but right now, he's truly surpassed previous levels of infuriating behavior.

"And I can hear you, sweetheart," he retorted, casting a glance your way. The term of endearment he used for you sounding almost like a sneer to your ears and you felt offended.

"I don't think you're taking this seriously," you griped, trying to calm your emotions, still balling your hands. "Someone is following our son on his way back from school―how can you be this... flippant?!"

Numerous photograph of your son exiting the school building from different angles had arrived in your mailbox, and if it wasn't a creepy warning from those who placed a target on his back, then you didn't know what it was.

Satoru let out an exasperated grunt. "I'm telling you, I'll pick him up for the rest of the week. No one will lay a hand on him."

You gritted your teeth. "And I'm telling you, they're trying to make you do just that. Even morons know not to mess with you― they're leaving hints, and you're taking the bait!"

Contrary to what you believed, Satoru felt just as worried as you upon knowing that someone might have marked his precious son, who was now six years old and had recently started attending preschool.

But this is where your approaches differ. You are always the cautious one, overanalyzing each detail, while he leans towards being impulsive, often resorting to brute force.

"Who do you think can stand a chance against me?" Satoru challenged with a real sneer this time. "Remember my words, wife, no one is going to hurt me, you or our baby. I'll end them where they stand."

"That's not the point!" you threw your hands in the air, irate. "Satoru, they're going to take advantage of―"

"Look, I don't want to argue with you." Satoru's gaze was hard on you, his tone clipped, and it made you stiffen. "His safety comes first— and you, of all people, should know I'd never let anything happen to him. You need to quit nitpicking and have a little faith in me."

"I know you are more than capable, but you are not―!"

And then he said it, and his words piercing through you like a knife―

"Don't compare me to you," your husband remarked a little too coldly. "I can do things you can't. Just rest your pretty head, I'll take care of the rest."

Nevermind that he blatantly dismissed your skills as a jujutsu sorcerer, nevermind that he totally didn't listen to you at all―he just went and made himself look like some sort unparalleled god, forgetting how much his hubris could actually take him.

And all these thoughts only made you angrier.

"So be it then." You tried desperately to hold yourself from shaking because you'd be damned if you showed it to him. "A word of advice, Satoru: beware of your arrogance."

With those words, you spun around, marching off toward your son's room, because no way in hell was you going to sleep with that obnoxious prick tonight.

But when you caught the sight of your baby scuttling away from the gap in the door, a fragment of your heart crumbled. Oh. He has seen it all.

In Gojo Satoru's mind, he is made of two things: a powerful jujutsu sorcerer and a family man.

With his immense strength, comes a certain responsibility. And with that responsibility, certain habits have formed. If you just took a few seconds to breathe and looked back throughout the past decade he'd spent with you, you'd know that in fact―

It was also his way to shield you. Satoru stands by the principle that you and his little boy must be protected at all cost, and he most certainly would pull all stops to do just that.

But frankly, he couldn't deny that he felt insulted by how defiant you were. Did you really think he would let anyone ever touch your―his―son? He wouldn't, they'd meet his wrath first and you should've known that.

Still, something akin to guilt nudged at his conscience as he lay alone in your shared bed that night. It felt strange not having you cuddling him. He felt empty.

. . .

None of your shampoo-scented pillow, none of your nightdresses, all of it replaced by a single photo hanging in the wall and the urn of ashes—

Abruptly, he jerked his eyes open, shaken from the most dreadful nightmare he had experienced—

Of you no longer by his side.

“Mama.” Your little boy looked up to you with his doe-blue eyes in the next day, his hand gripping yours. “I’ll be fine.”

You were accompanying him to the preschool. While Satoru had requested Ichiji to drive him, you insisted on tagging along to keep a watchful eye as well. You'd leave your husband to pick him up later just as he wanted.

“Huh?” you turned to him, tilting your head.

“I'll stick by Uncle Ichiji's side the entire time,” he replied in a murmur. “And papa will be picking me up too later. If there are bad guys, they'll get him first.”

You bit your lip, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Your boy witnessed your outburst last night and hadn't inquired about it until now, and even then, he was trying to reassure you.

“So… don’t fight.” His round, cerulean eyes then darted towards you, blinking hesitantly, causing you to catch your breath.

He looks so much like Satoru. At six years old, he was the spitting image of him, except his personality—he took after you in that area. It was as if your son was a softer, more innocent version of him. And your heart twisted, remembering your argument last night.

Don't compare me to you.

With a sigh, you bent down to be eye-level with him and managed a smile, holding both of his little hands. “I’m sorry… it was just misunderstanding last night, okay? Don’t worry.”

“…really?”

“Really. Mama and papa were just tired,” you tried to reason, a thin smile on your face. "It's going to be okay, just like you said, yeah? Papa will beat the bad guys out there."

“Will he pull through...? If they bring a knife, and he's just there laughing, they can cut him.”

A giggle escaped your lips at your baby's innocent wonderings, easing the ache in your heart as you recalled how Satoru humored him in so many ways.

You gently poked your son in the cheek. "Nah, do you remember what he always goes on about?"

He puffed up his cheeks in response, his expression turning sour as if combing through memories of hundreds of shenanigans Satoru had instigated to recall his words. You let out a hearty chuckle, finding him so adorable.

"He's strong, he's going to win. He always does."

"Oh. Mmm." Your son scrunched up his nose cutely, before looking away and squeezing your hand. A sincerer smile bloomed in your lips, heart melting at the sight of your growing munchkin.

You will protect him. And maybe you could patch things up with Satoru later that night. Maybe yesterday you were just too paranoid.

That was the plan... at least until your son suddenly screamed—someone wrenching him from your grasp. Without a second thought, you reacted, flipping the attacker away from you and him.

. . . and that was the beginning of how everything started to unravel so terribly that day.

"Gojo-san...! There's been an incident!"

He got that call right after he finished some things with Yaga. Satoru teleported to the preschool right away, only to be greeted by a scene of utter chaos.

Several teachers stood outside the building, and police officers were present at the scene. It was all a blur of cursed energy until his eyes caught sight of—

His little boy, red-faced and obviously in fear, was clinging to Ichiji, who was frantically making calls. Some teachers gathered around him were seemingly trying to coax him to speak.

He didn't waste a second to dash towards him, tearing through the crowd.

"Are you okay? Hey, buddy, what happened?" Satoru pulled him away from Ichiji and turned him over, crouching to his level to check for any signs of injury or harm.

And upon seeing him actually here, his son's eyes immediately welled up with tears, and Satoru felt a chill run through his veins as he broke into sobs, which quickly turned into heart-wrenching wails.

"Mama—! F-find mama—!" the little boy choked out through his tears, clutching onto his shirt tightly and crumbling in his embrace, thoroughly inconsolable.

Satoru's sharp gaze quickly swept over the scene, seeking any clues, while he tightened his hold over him. It was then he noticed traces of your cursed energy mingled with blood.

They hurt you.

"Hey, kiddo—listen to me, it's going to be alright, yeah?" Satoru said, gently pulling away to wipe away his tears, holding the boy's face tenderly in his hands. "Go with Ichiji for now, okay? I'm going to bring mama back, I promise."

He didn't need to be told twice. Your son is always obedient when it matters the most. He gave him a small nod, still shaking with tears.

"Don't worry," he flashed a reassuring smile and ruffled his hair. "I'm the strongest, remember? I'll get her back," he vowed once again. "She'll be fine. Wait for me until then, yeah?"

Ichiji was ready to leave as he had called for those in headquarters as backup in case anything were to happen again. Trusting him to keep his son safe, Satoru took off as soon as he could no longer see the sight of his son's tear-streaked face trying to watch him as the car pulled away.

"I won't repeat myself— where is my wife?"

Satoru wasn't playing this time. He skipped past taunts and just plain threats. These little fries, he thought.

The man he held by the throat was in a lot of distress. "Hyaaa! It's him! Please, please, let me go! I'm acting under orders!"

He then flung him across the wall— might have added more cursed energy than necessary.

At the moment, his entire focus was on trying to locate you. He couldn't let his mind wander to anything else; in fact, he didn't permit himself to.

It didn't take him long to piece together the general location of where you were through the residual of your cursed energy. They stationed several hooligans in this abandoned warehouse to stall him, but he got rid of them quickly and he could sense that you were close by.

"It's Gojo Satoru!"

"Run! Ruuuun!"

What a pain. They picked the wrong person to mess with, and Satoru's lips curled into a manic grin as he opened his palm, pulling them in—

"Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue."

Chaos erupted as the building collapsed around him. He hoped you would realize he was here and manage to avoid getting caught in the wreckage. He was sure you'd know though.

And true to his thoughts, soon he found you— blasting your attacker away with a powerful kick.

Satoru thought that you were a sight to behold, really. And he was about to call out to you when he felt it.

It happened almost in an instant. The way his heart dropped to his stomach, and how his body reacted, barely whispering the incantation for Red as he shot it at something lurking behind you—

At that moment, the only thing you were aware of was the foul stench of a curse. Time seemed to stop before the overwhelming force of Red expelled it away from you.

But before then, you experienced a searing, white-hot pain that scorched through your flesh and pierced your abdomen—

"Y/N―fuck―!" The voice that came from Satoru's throat was raw and laden with panic.

He pulled you against him protectively as you collapsed, blinded by pain. He immediately felt warmth spreading across his lower body—your blood was rapidly drenching his shirt, and he felt a shiver down his spine.

You held onto him tightly while suppressing your scream, feeling every bit of your strength drain away along with the dark crimson blood that poured out of you.

"―toru―" you managed to croak amidst the scalding pain, curling and whimpering in his hold.

"Hey― sweetheart, please―" his voice rang in your ears, as he pressed down on your wound. His hands were shaking, and you clawed at him and groaned in agony. "I-I'm taking you back now― You're going to be alright, yeah?"

The wound was beyond anything you had experienced before, causing you to cry out and gasp for air. It was almost as if something fried your insides. It was hard to stay conscious.

"I've got you now. You're going to be okay." His voice was coarse, as he hurriedly carried you out. And he tried not to let the full-blown panic take over him when your body went limp in his arms, your breaths slowing, head lolling in his chest.

"You're going to be alright! You hear me, sweetheart? You're going to make it. Our baby― he's waiting for you. I promise you, you're going to be fine―"

Perhaps he was trying to tell that to himself, because despite the excruciating pain, a wave of reassurance washed over you.

You were in the arms of the strongest sorcerer alive, what more could you possibly afraid of?

A special grade curse. They had actually unleashed a potent curse and likely aimed at him as their final card—until it veered off course and struck you, leaving a searing gash across your abdomen.

Satoru felt numb as he sat in the waiting room in his bloodied uniform. You got hurt so terribly right in front of his eyes, and all he could feel was this profound void that seemed to bore through him and pierced his soul.

He was supposed to protect you. He said it to your face that nothing and no one would touch your son, and it was in his wedding vows that he'd protect you with his life too.

And yet what happened?

If only he was faster. If only he was able to pull you to him and protect you with his infinity—none of this shit would have happened.

Seeing your face twisted in agony and smeared with blood made him feel sick to his stomach. Inside that OR, you hovered on the brink of life and death, and he was here, unable to do anything.

Satoru rested his head against the wall, feeling a sharp pain surge through his chest. He remembered waking up to your face every morning, the way your touches felt, and how you had brightened his world for the past decade. If he lost you now... he wouldn't survive it. He would wreck anything, everything—

"Papa!" and came his voice of reason. Satoru immediately discarded his bloodstained jacket by instinct, throwing it away before his boy could see it, with Ichiji and Megumi closely trailing behind.

His son crashed himself into him and threw his little arms around his torso, crying—and in that very second, the thump of his heart sounded louder in his ears. Somehow it felt like a knife that twisted his insides.

"Hey, kiddo." Satoru repositioned him so that he would sit on his lap and hugged him, patting him in the back. "There, there... it's alright, yeah? Mama is inside, she'll get better soon."

Your little boy pulled away and wiped his eyes, and Satoru chuckled as he helped him blow his nose. His child was incredibly adorable, and his actions mirrored yours to such an extent that it made Satoru's heart soften.

"Mama g-got hurt trying to... tell me to g-go..." the boy suddenly said amidst his quieter sniffles. "And... she s-said... papa— i-is strong and g-going to win..."

You believe in him. Ignoring the ache in his chest, only able to reply him with a "Yeah..."

Not long after, Shoko emerged from the operating room and informed him that the surgery had been successful, though you would likely need to have a one-week stay in the hospital for observation. He intended to move you to the VIP suite and stay the night there, but then he remembered his son, who was holding his hand.

Satoru crouched down and patted him in the head, fixing him a smile. "See? Mama is okay, but she needs to sleep here to get even better. Now you go home first with big brother Megumi, yeah?"

Your son adored Megumi and often begged you to let him stay over at his place, but this time he looked hesitant, fiddling with his little fingers. "Really? Mama will be home... soon?"

"Mm-hmm, the more she sleeps here, the faster she'll go back home, alright?"

And with that, his baby nodded and Satoru turned to Megumi with a nod. "Thank you for this, Megumi."

The boy whose life he had once saved on some sort of a whim, now grown up and shared the same concern he had for you, Fushiguro Megumi had never before witnessed his benefactor expressing such sincere gratitude for anything before.

When you came to, your body felt as heavy as lead.

The discomfort in your abdomen made you flinch, and you almost let out a groan until you turned to your side and saw him.

Satoru was asleep while sitting in the sofa next to your bed, dark circles evident under his eyes. It might have been your imagination, but his cheeks appeared to be slightly red too.

You tried to recall what had happened to you when it came back—you urging your son to run away as you let yourself being taken away, almost escaping from that warehouse, the flash of excruciating pain, and Satoru's stricken voice.

So he must've been here since last night. Any remnants of your disagreement seemed to have vanished, seeing him there with you, barely covering himself with the blanket, with a frown still marking his forehead even in his sleep.

You wanted to reach out to him until the movement sent a sharp jab to your stomach and you cried out a bit.

In that split second, Satoru's eyes jerked open, and realizing you were awake, his gaze locked onto yours. "Y/N—" But your strained whimper and expression told him everything. "Does it hurt? I-I'll get Shoko, wait—"

And then he hit the call button. Throughout it all, he kept a firm grip on your hand for reassurance. A few minutes later, Shoko arrived and examined your wound, subsequently administering painkillers to alleviate your discomfort.

"It's going to leave a scar," she explained grimly, showing the mangled skin where the curse had made its mark on you, and seeing that, Satoru clenched his fists.

Shoko sighed, empathizing with her friend's frustration. "It's going to fade with time, don't worry. You did well, Gojo. You brought her here quickly. Had you been even slightly later, there could have been an irreversible damage to her organs."

But your husband remained quiet, unable to bring himself to look at you. And after she left, you tried to finally voice your question to him.

"O-our—"

"He's fine," Satoru immediately answered, squeezing your hand. "Our boy is fine. I'll tell Megumi to visit later—he's with him."

A sigh of relief came out of you. "Thank... goodness."

But his expression seemed to fall even further after hearing your response. Satoru settled himself on the seat next to you and lowered the rail on your bed, allowing you to be even closer to each other.

"Do you not feel any pain anymore?" he asked then, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He looked so sad, a stark contrast of how he usually was, and it bugged you.

"No... I feel fine now."

"Then, can I hug you?"

Of course you nodded without a second thought, and carefully, he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you close and resting his face on the crook of your neck.

You knew what it was. Satoru was still visibly shaken by what had happened to you, and he wasn't great at expressing himself, so he tried to find consolation through this physical closeness instead.

"I'm okay..." you patted his back, trying to convince him. "I'm alright now, yeah?" But to your surprise, suddenly his whole body started to shake. "Satoru...?"

“…’m sorry.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he nuzzled you. “I shouldn't... have let you get this hurt...”

It always amazes you how Satoru always gets this distressed whenever you sustain any injury. You had seen him cry precisely two times now—once after you gave birth to your son and experienced severe bleeding, and now.

"It's not your fault..." you whispered in response. "You... have protected me well."

He held you tighter, his tone faltering. "I didn't."

"You have..." you stroked his hair, trying to convince him. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

Hearing you say that made Satoru's chest ache. The thought of something like this happening to you was unimaginable, and now that it had, he couldn't come to terms with seeing you hurt right in front of him.

"Don't—" he choked on his voice, his breath trembled against your neck. "Don't ever put yourself in danger again. If something happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself..."

You couldn't make that promise. Despite the pleading in his voice, you knew deep down that your son's life—and his—meant more, and given the chance, you would obviously save theirs for yours.

“Satoru... I love you, you know that, right?”

So you simply embraced him close, hoping that in this life, you would live long enough that he would never have to see you like this again.

Epilogue

"Papa, how do I become stronger?"

Satoru blinked when his son asked him that so innocently and curiously, taken aback as he led him to your private room later that afternoon. "Oh? What brought this on?"

His first and only son, a perfect miniature of himself, pursed his lips. "I don't want Mama to get hurt again..."

Satoru's heart warmed at his baby’s sincere words, and despite himself, he chuckled.

"What's funny?" his son leveled a glare at him. "I'm being serious."

"Well, aren't you such a good boy? Don't worry, kiddo, I'll teach you my ways~"

"What ways?"

"Well, no need to rush, pumpkin. First of all, you will have to harness your skills and then you have to be more like me—"

"Do I have to be like you…? Is there no other way?"

"—? What's wrong with being more like me?"

"Everything...?"

[classyrbf]

ᯓ★ BABY FEVER! — NANAMI KENTO

“Awe come on Ken, don’t you wanna—ah—cum in me? Fill me up, breed me? Nngh fuck!” You say in a teasing voice, your knees pushed all the way to your chest as his animalistic thrusts push you further into the bed. His pulsating cock and your sloppy hole making a mess on the sheets below. Plap! Plap! Plap! He knocks the wind out of you with each jolt of his hips.

Nanami’s mind is absolutely spiraling at your words. It’s like you flipped some sort of switch in his brain, and it doesn’t help with how tightly your cunt is hugging him either. “This greedy pussy wants my cum, hm? Careful what—ugh, shit—what you wish for, love!” He breathily chuckles through his moans. The bed creaks under your weight, the sheer force of hips knocking the headboard against the wall.

“I want it, Ken! So bad! Hah! Mmmph! Want y-you to put a baby in me!” You nod up at him, pleading eyes and all. The grip he has around your legs tighten and you swear you could see his eyes darken. He’s quick to throw your legs over his shoulder, pushing his weight down on you, folding you into a mating press. “Oh my god!” You swear you could feel the tip of leaky fat cock reach deeper than before, stretching your poor pussy.

“Want me to make you a mommy? Yeah? Is that it? That’s what my sweethearts been wanting all this time?” His lips quirk into a smirk, flashing a wicked grin at you. Your jaw falls slack, eyes wide as his heavy balls slap against the fat of your ass. “I’ll breed this pretty pussy everyday until you’re round with my kids—fuck, yes, yes, keep taking it!” The mere thought makes him feral.

“Yes, cum in me, baby, yes, yes! I’ll take all of it!” You cry out, eyes clenching shut when he roughly slams his hips into you over and over, his cock dragging against your gummy walls before sucking him right back in. The barge of his hips sends your eyes rolling back and you can tell he’s close to cumming, his erratic pace a telltale hint. “You’re so fucking deep in me! Oh my god!”

“This pussy’s gonna make me cum, sweetheart—nnngh—yes, keep squeezing me like that! Fuck, fuck,” he pants heavily, “I’m cumming!” He slams into you once more, the force making you cry out and cling onto his sweaty body. A blissful sigh escaped your lips as you felt his cum paint your insides, a lazy smile spreading across your face. “There you fucking go!” He groans, slowly dragging his hips out before pushing his thick length back in, fucking his sticky cum into you.

Both of you breathe heavily, trying to catch your breath as he pulls out, a mix of your juices and his cum coating his length. His eyes gravitate towards your swollen cunt, watching the way his cum leaks out of you and he’s quick to push it back in with his thumb. The corner of his lips turn into a satisfied smile before he leans down as places a sloppy kiss on your puffy lips, tongues gliding against each other before pulling away. He looks down between his legs, his dick still rock hard.

You let out a soft giggle, spreading your legs for him again. “Gonna breed me some more?” You bite down on your bottom lip.

“Only,” his throbbing top pushes past your messy folds, the warmth of your pussy wrapping around him as he slowly inserts himself inch by inch, “if you ask nicely, sweetheart.”

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni. I'm currently obsessed with the thought of Bucky making his pretty girl take it. I'm talking him keeping you caged under him with your legs wrapped around his waist while his arm are wrapped tightly around your body. This type of energy comes out when he's pissed. Stressed. Jealous. He's going to remind you exactly who you belong to and my favourite thing about this is imagine you didn't even know what happened. Maybe he overheard some agents talking about how irresistible you are. So cute and pretty and they'd give anything to-

Nope. The thought alone of anytone touching what's his has him storming off, hauling you over to mark you in the most primal way possible. Remind everyone who you belong to. He plucks you up from whatever you're doing and carries you over his shoulder like a beast; you're naked on his bed seconds later. He plows into you, hips slamming his cock into your very soaked cunt, unapologetically fucking you with the deepest moans. He sounds so feral. He is feral.

"Feels-so-good, such a good girl, letting me put my big dick in you"

Those grunts and groans he lets out show just how selfish he's being because he's focused on how fucking good you're making his dick feel. You're so soft but you make his cock so hard. You're such an angel for him, spreading your legs for him the second he set you down. He'd been torn between wanting to ravish you immediately or taking a second to throw his clothes off. He decides he needs you to fucking smell like him when this is all over, have every bit of his scent covering your skin. He wants to feel every bit of you all over him.

No one else would ever get to have you like this. Feel your naked breasts on their chest. Feel your soft tummy press against theirs. Feel the plushness of your thighs squeezing their waist. Feel your silky walls squeeze and milk their cocks till they're all soft and sensitive.

They'd hear you though.

They'd hear every moan and Bucky would make sure of that.

"Whose cock is making you scream baby, tell me" He growls, your combined arousal making a mess on the bed.

"Y-OURS-" You hiccup, choking back a sob as he snakes his had to wrap around your throat. Damn right. His fucking cock. His dick in your pussy. Not the stupid little boys who think they have a chance to even breathe the same air. His pretty, pink, fat fucking cock destroying you to his heart's content, stretching you open as much as he wants. "J-JAMES"

"That's right, say my name baby, say the name of your man who fucks you this good, let everyone hear" He's already turned off all the sound proofing and maybe he left his door a crack open. Maybe.

"Jaamesss" You sound so gone, cockdrunk over the way the spongy head of his dick kisses that sensitive spot that makes you squirt cream with each of his thrusts. "Don't st-stop, please-fuck-me-Jamie" Your voices slurs and turns into a whine as your eyes roll back. For such a sweet princess, you sound like an absolute slut when he's inside you and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Mhphhm, sound so pretty, gonna make me blow, let me empty my balls in you" He starts to fuck you faster causing the headboard to shake, the whole bed creaking with his movements. "M'gonna cum angel-oh shittt-"

He nearly whimpers when he feels your doe eyes looking up at him with your ankles locked around his waist; he knows exactly what that means.

"You want it inside you huh, want my cum in you baby, s'that it?"

"Want-it-please, can't hold it" you cling onto him tighter and Bucky can't last any longer.

"Cum with me, together, c'mon angel, cum with me, yes, fuck yes, can feel you-fuck-" He begs, needing those little boys who spoke about you to hear exactly what they're missing out on, "OH GOD, FUCKKK" He doesn't hold back as he gives into his orgasm, your name dripping of his lips while you sob and squeal.

I want him to give you the softest aftercare. Tell you what a good girl you were for him. How much he loves and adores you, how special you are to him.

I want him to have the most smug expression on his face when he goes back down. He's such a little shit. He passes by a cackling Tony and a wheezing Sam. Not one agent dares look him in the eye. Steve may be blushing but he'll give credit where credit is due. His best friend sent a very clear message. Bucky is a possessive, loving, horny little shit and I need it.

Need it now.