CAPITAL B CAPITAL O CAPITAL A CAPITAL F ....

Y/N: I’m kind of crushing on someone, but I’m worried about telling you who it is, because you’re not going to like it

Pietro: Just rip the bandage off.

Y/N: It’s Wanda.

Pietro: Put the bandage back on.

From: https://incorrect-quotes-generator.neocities.org

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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satoru pushes his tip inside you and cries. like literal fat tears because your pussy is so damn addicting.

"mmh fhhuck! missed my sweet pussy so much, baby," he whimpers.

"ah! but we just fucked an h-hour ago."

"felt like a week to me. shit. ahhh, taking me so well." you feel something wet fall on you skin, almost like a sweat drop but when you look at his face, your angel boy is crying. you try to get him off you to figure out what's wrong.

"no no no, baby. where you goin'?" he pulls you back into his embrace and onto his dick. "don't go ngh–gonna make you feel so good, i promise."

"toru, are you crying?"

"c-can't help it. you make me go fucking crazy, princess. sweet. fucking. cunt. making me cry. who woulda thought—holy shit."

you are convinced this is the highest form of appreciation you have ever gotten. pussy so good, made the strongest sorcerer cry.

Loved it.

Wherever You Stray, I Follow.  (completed series masterlist)

Demon!Bucky x Reader 

Run-through: Your grandfather left you his manor in his will, and since you had no plans to settle down elsewhere after graduating uni, you decide to finally move in and make the manor your new home. Except, you weren’t ready for it; not the manor, nor the many secrets it contained. You remember your grandfather’s last words and you intended on figuring out what he meant. All you knew was that there was something more to this house, something darker. Upon uncovering unusual family secrets, you happen to find love where you least expected it to be - hidden in the dark. You’d always been a fan of cute, endearing and perfect love stories, however this one is anything but. This one doesn’t have prince charming who will save you but rather a cocky, sarcastic, borderline annoying but irresistible being who lures you over to the dark side. And you follow… 

Themes throughout the series: demon!bucky, smut, angst, fluff, explicit language, supernatural elements, paranormal romance, mentions of death and blood

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Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 3 

Part 4 

Part 5 

Part 6 

fluffy blurb

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.

I fucking love Bucky with a passion.

Want You

18+ Minors dni 

Love this. This was literally in the works and then I see this request in the middle of me writing it, chefs kiss.  I love jealously, idk what’s wrong with me but it scratches an itch I cannot describe.

Warnings: FLUFF, pregnancy, Smuuttt (daddy kink, breeding kink,) angst if you squint but honestly not really. 

Word count: 1.6k

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I'm gonna call my future s/o angel beefcakes

nicknames- p. parker

pairings: peter parker x reader, platonic!natasha romanoff x reader, platonic!mj x reader, platonic!tony stark x reader, platonic!wanda maximoff x reader, mentions of other avengers  warnings: cringey nicknames, a crappy ending, i kind of hate this?? about: tiktok trend “calling boyfriend increasingly weirder nicknames

you’re sitting on your bed, lazily running your fingers through peter curled locks, his head lying on your lap while he fiddles with his phone. mj is looking at you in disgust, and you ignore her as you flip through movies, asking ned what he thinks. he smiles, raising an eyebrow, “well, you know what i’m always up to watching-”

“we’re not watching star wars,” mj says flatly, shaking her head. she looks to the television for a second, squinting, “just put on that one,” she says, pointing to a random movie. “really? you want to watch heathers?” you ask, surprised, “i’ve been trying to get you to watch that for weeks.” mj shrugs, and from his place on your thighs, peter sighs, nuzzling his cheek against the material of your skirt. “i’m good with it, angel. are you, ned?”

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Venom isn't scary at all. He's just a bus fluff gooey slime ball that needs attention

So, I’ve found myself in a wormhole of Venom smut lately… using Morsel as a term of endearment is DOING THINGS to me. 🥴😵‍💫

Pheromone Perfume .ᐟ

𝜗𝜚: satoru, suguru, nanami, choso, ino, toji

note: you put on a pheromone perfume and it makes them feral

warnings: crack, cursing, sexual, f!reader

I BLOCK MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS

He's so cute.

This is the fight of our lives and we’re going to win. Whatever it takes.