MY JAW DROPPED TO HELLLL

Steve is the only man who can manhandle me like this

Idk why but I have this theory that stevie boy prays when his girl is going down on him.

a/n: this took so long! i hope you like it, i feel kind of rusty with writing lol. enjoy the catholic guilt <3 1.5k words of deepthroating & Please stop reading if you are not 18+

brooklyn after dark masterlist

“blessed”

He’s got it bad.

He stuffs it behind his stern face and resilient body and a collected, competent demeanor but at the heart of it, in his heart, Steve is truly, embarrassingly, a lovestruck boy and intimacy is a hurdle he’s having a hard time clearing.

He doesn’t want to hurt you. He’s always afraid he’ll lose control, so he keeps it as vanilla as fucking possible and it is probably driving you just as crazy as it is him.

But then you kneel down in the middle of the floor and there’s nothing he can possibly hold on to, he thinks you must be out to kill him.

You tell him he’s pretty, and that he’s got these gorgeous, long legs, and when you start kissing up his knee and rest your face at the crease of his groin, his head is so cloudy he might as well be floating.

He’s smack dab in the center of the kitchen this time, condemned to yet another instance of helplessness. His hands have nowhere to go, and he begins to stutter for alternatives, but you shake your head, already on the move.

He shudders. You want him and you can’t wait another second. You want him here, now, with your bare knees on tile, the pre-heated oven and its dinner plans shelved for later because you. want. him. And that’s the end of that.

You begin unbuckling his belt, fingers pulling apart the leather, unclasping, unzipping, and then you lift your mouth off him long enough to let the denim fall to the floor.

He groans, already beginning to breathe harder, his abs flexing as you nose your way up one thigh. You sigh as you go along, eyes shut as if trying to concentrate on the mere scent of him. You take deep breaths, moan lightly, and the barest hint of a smirk begins forming on your face when you press your forehead to him and murmur, “I want it so bad, Steve. I’d let you keep me like this all night for it.”

His entire body jolts and he thinks he should get more furniture just for the safety of surfaces alone. You don’t seem bothered by his muteness—you’ve done this so many times with your special talent for making him ache all over with just a few dirty words. He’s stil learning how his body can move now that he’s in love—now that he feels safe giving himself over to someone.

You slip your fingers over his erection, fully hard now because you look like that.

“I love the way you smell.” You breathe him in, rubbing at him like a cat, lewd and devoted in equal measure. “Love how it feels on my face.” You show him, looking up now, your cheek pressed against the curve of his shaft, eyes reflecting of the overhead light and his own breathless face back at him.

“You’ll let me suck you here, right?”

His head falls back, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as the heat in his face runs down his neck and chest. Why do you have to say things like that? Why do you have to make him feel so much?

You mouth the tip of his cock, tongue lapping at the damp spot of precome through fabric before taking it in, as if you could put him in just how he is. He’s so hard at the entrance your warm mouth, your breath huffing over his cock, the cotton layer catching moisture like an inescapable wall keeping him from feeling the rest of you—but it’s hot. It’s so fucking hot and you keep on doing it, suckling and moaning and grabbing at him. You pant, watching his expression, taking in how he responds.

He worries the heel of his palms to his brow—but he can’t help staring. Can’t help the way he keeps twitching every second. Can’t help the low whine that falls out of his mouth when you finally spring him free and let him bounce on the tip of your tongue.

“Baby you’re leaking,” you tease, flicking at the slit where he dribbles out, “Mmm, it tastes so good.”

“Christ,” he grunts, face burning.

You grin, giving him a firm suck, and then a soft kiss at his tip. You show him your wet, pink tongue, your open throat. And then you swap all that chatter for work. You take him in, easing him past your back teeth, his cockhead rubbing at the entrance of your throat, pressing into the soft muscle there as it grips around him weakly.

Your eyes roll back and— you look— so pretty.

“Oh, god…Oh, hell..”

You keep your jaw slack and bob your head steadily as if suggesting that he take the lead. Your hands cup his sac, rolling the sensitive skin between two fingers, letting the rest lie in your other palm. He feels so completely taken, all of him, warm and encased and throbbing.

To your delight, he slowly begins rolling his hips. Experimental at first, half-hearted and worried about startling or choking you, but at the first reflex of a gag, your eyes light up before fluttering half-closed and you practically mewl.

Fuck.

He pulls away, “Sorry—I’m sorry—” but you grab him by the back of his thighs and swallow him down, opening up more, letting the saliva collecting around his dick dribble out down your chin. You look so easy and vulnerable, entirely receptive to however he wants to use you.

His cock is pulsing, making squelching sounds as it rubs against your tongue and slicks itself up with spit, pushing some out with every pull. You’re arching your body into the correct position for him, and he places one hand on the back of your neck to hold you steady as he tries to get—ah, right there, just a little more—

He practically shouts when he stuffs himself into your throat. The tip of your nose is pressed into his groin, chin warm on his balls as he shifts, feeling crazed about it all. The resistance, the squeeze of your muscles—he reaches around to your neck and blindly feels for the bulge his cock is creating.

“Holy shit,” he blurts, “holy fuck, holy fuck, baby—that feels so good—oh my god—oh fucking god.”

And then he starts spinning off in his head, all his Catholic upbringing like an unstoppable flood—those stupid prayers for serenity and grace—lead us not into temptation—racing across his mind because if he doesn’t cling onto something he’ll lose it completely. He’ll choke you—he’ll choke you over and over with his cock and he’ll love it.

There are tears in your eyes, but you don’t pull away and you don’t make him stop. Your fingers are digging into your legs, but you keep looking at him, asking silently for him to see—for him to notice how much you want him like this, all the time.

The noise is filthy when you yank free, and you look wrecked, leaned back on your haunches. Your breaths are ragged and weak, and you bite at your lips in a daze.

“Again,” you say quietly, hoarse. “Please, again.”

And all those prayers flit away. He forgets every sacrament. The only blessing he’ll ever need is you, uttering again.

He shoves himself back in, forcing a loud gag out, and he feels insane for it—feels utterly crazed for more of this sensation. Shocks are sprinting up and down his spine, his toes are curling, his body tense and loose at the same time. He doesn’t want to stop feeling you, doesn’t want to stop seeing you attached to his cock, worshiping it with your tongue, tears brimming in your pretty eyes from the effort.

“Your fucking throat,” he grunts, too rough now with his hand on your head to force you down, but unable to stop, each thrust bringing him closer and closer. “Fucking incredible. So—dirty—you naughty fucking girl."

There’s spit everywhere. Down your shirt, long lines of it dripping from his dick to your mouth when you gasp for air. Your lips are swollen so pretty and bright.

Steve hauls you up, bullies you against the nearest surface and fingers your cunt until his fingers are coated. He gets behind you, makes you taste your own pussy, and then fucks his way in, choking off your cry with his hand.

And it doesn’t take long. You squirm and clamp down and sob when you come, and Steve barrels headfirst into it soon after, his cock pulsing and unloading inside.

“Steve,” you gasp, turning your head to mouth at him instinctively. He’s still hard, fucking gently into you.

He paws at your breasts, your face, belly, feeling every inch of you now that he’s cleared this hurdle. Now he knows what he wants, knows how to get it.

His cock is filthy with slick and semen. He’ll need you to clean it off.

“I’m not finished yet,” he says, certainty firmly in his chest. He smiles into your hair, pulls out slow and sloppy and fingers the inside of your mouth. He'll do exactly what it is you wanted-- what he wants, too.

He’s gonna keep you here all night.

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Toji has a special technique to make you forget things.

Warnings: Fluff, Suggestive Content

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Toji loves to flex his muscles when he’s in trouble with you. He nearly whores himself out when he sees a frown on your face. He tries to make it subtle, but he couldn’t be more painfully obvious.

“Toji, what did I tell you about–” You begin, and when you look over, Toji is taking off his shirt.

“Whew, I had such a great workout today.” Toji cuts you off, putting his arms up to lean against the doorframe. The son of a bitch knows it works, but you look away before you forget your train of thoughts.

“Don’t leave your dirty–” You continue and Toji interrupts you once again.

“I can pick you up with one arm.” He reminds you, walking over to you and doing just as he told you. He lifts you off the floor using one arm, but he uses both to carry you to the bed. You’re kicking your feet in the air and yelling,

“You ass! Let me scold you!” You hear him chuckle before putting you down on the bed. You can’t stay mad when Toji looks so… Your eyes are wandering down his body. He can whore himself out as many times as he likes.

“I see you staring, you pervert.” Toji teases, and you ignore him as you continue staring.

“You have some big boobs.” You comment, and Toji rolls his eyes. Boobs. Yeah, what a great choice of words for his well defined pecs. “Do you need a bra?”

“Why would I need one when your hands are available?” He responds, and you giggle. One thing about him, he sure knows how to use his body in his favor.

“Yeah…” You respond, eyes staring at his body like the big pervert you are. Until you see a dirty sock from the corner of your eye, reminding you that you have a purpose. You aren’t just a pervert that loves to stare at her whore of a boyfriend. “But I can’t because I have to pick up your dirty socks.”

“C’mon, baby.” Toji grabs your hand and guides it to his torso. From his chest all the way down to his abdomen.

“Whore.” You spit at him, and he chuckles. You can call him whatever you want, but his method still works. 

This was so funny for no reason

tweets w/ jjk boys

© yuiiiriii

My heart broke so much I can't handle it when the trope is "learning how to love x getting hurt by a loved one".

Like he literally gave that man a weapon to protect himself AND HE CHOSE TO PROTECT HIMSELF FROM LYCA??? LYCA IS THE LEAST OF YOUR WORRIES.

Ohhhh I wanna cuddle him so bad and give him kisses and tell him he's perfect and nothing is his fault. I need to physically and astrally be in the game to comfort lyca my best boy.

this is going to affect the trout population

SHIT IT'S EXACTLY THE SAME PICTURE HAHAHAHA

I need to save this entire paragraph

No lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, gently, rough, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, pancake, throat fucking, till my insides are white, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, till my dna is 50% cum, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, on the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, having the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering. eye rolling. hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blowing, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan inducing, heart wrenching, lustful, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocius, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity detying, nail biting, sweaty, teet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell dissolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly feeling, ruining me,corrupting me, choking me, biting me, tying me and handcuffing me taking him for 69 times in a hundred positions 'cause never back down never what??? Never give up!!! And I'm not giving up to screw me 'till my mind becomes nothing but subservient to him and I pass out.

I know this isn't a proposal but I'd want to be proposed like this

let’s get married – s.rogers

[warnings: none!]

summary: in which morgan is curious

word count: 1,179

masterlist

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Clint is so cool

idle hands

Clint Barton x Reader

Prompt: “my butt is not a drum, dude.”

Summary: you’re trying to get work done on a quiet afternoon, but your boyfriend clint barton is nothing if not distracting.

Warnings: fluff, smut, adult language, fingering, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 3,123

Got a Request? Prompt list for: tony | clint | quill

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The power of "I love you"

Three Little Words

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x gn!Reader

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

*Cute little drabble, i’ve been thinking about him all day long (i always do)

Toji isn’t the type of man to voice his feelings. He really doesn’t like to express himself. He just hopes that his actions subtly express his love. 

He doesn’t even see the point in saying those words. They’re three little words that don’t even begin to capture the amount of love that he has for you. Three little words can’t say that much. In the end, you know that he loves you, so he’ll just waste his time by telling you so.

But occasionally, he has an urge to say it, and the thought won’t leave his mind unless he says those three little words. 

This time, he sits on the couch, playing his stupid game of Candy Crush. You’re planning on watching a movie, but you ended up wanting popcorn, making you get up from the couch and putting a bag in the microwave. He distantly hears the popping, and he knows that you’re awkwardly waiting around, watching as the bag spins. He slightly turns to look at you, and he chuckles when he sees you doing exactly what he was expecting.

He focuses on his game again, and he realizes that you’re back when you put the bowl of popcorn right under his nose. He didn’t even feel the couch dip. He smiles before he shakes his head. 

“You’re so predictable.” You chuckle. He always rejects the popcorn. 

“Am I?” He questions and you hum in response. He bites down on his lip for a moment before he blurts out, “I love you.”

You freeze in time. For a minute you stare at him, holding back a smile, before you put down the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. You don’t say anything, and Toji feels awkward. He can’t read you. He never can. Maybe that’s why he’s so scared to say a simple I love you. “Say it again.”

“Huh?” He furrows his eyebrows, confused. You don’t answer with words, instead you throw your hands over his shoulders and kiss his lips. You kiss him multiple times, laughing between kisses, and he laughs as well although he’s confused. 

“Say it again, please.” 

“I love you.” Toji repeats himself and you’re radiating happiness in a way that you’ve never shown before. Or maybe you have and he just hasn’t noticed. He just knows that he loves this, “I love you so much.”

Maybe those three little words aren’t all that meaningful to him, but they are to you. So he’ll voice his love more often.

OTOYA IS SUCH A COMEDIAN.