#Oh and I will say that for all my griping this might have the most satisfying final shot of any of the films yet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zepskies · 4 months

Note

Hi, how are you?

I was wondering if you could write something like "Dean reads you wrong" but with Sam Please

Hey, lovely!

I'm doing well, thank you. 💜 I hope you are too! Hmm, I'm still working through my current bank of requests, but since "Dean reads you wrong" is so fresh, it got me thinking about how Sam would go about this...

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: It's hard for Sam to admit he wants you...when he thinks you might want his brother.

Song Inspo: "If You're Gone" by Matchbox Twenty

Word Count: 1,600 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, fear of unrequited love, mutual pining

Imagine: Sam reads you wrong.

When Sam falls for someone, he's...well, what he would call self-aware.

But also cautious.

He knows his own track record with women. He knows the life he leads, and has resigned himself to giving up most kinds of normalcy or domesticity.

And maybe, a part deep in the back of his brain has given up on the idea of love.

That's why it's so damn confounding...how you've managed to take him by surprise.

He's always been able to rely on you. Whether it's sharing the brunt of the research with him when Dean loses focus, or staying up with Sam on late nights, sharing mugs of tea and quiet conversation, bonding over familiar tastes in books, and '90s grunge music, of all things.

You also confessed to him, late one night, that you have a growing collection of mugs, fuzzy socks, and vinyl records, despite the fact that your record player has collected more dust than the bunker's old storage room.

You're wonderfully weird.

And you're unfailingly loyal to who you consider "your people." And Sam thinks (knows) he's fortunate enough to be included in that small circle.

Sam also knows, deep in his gut, no matter how much he tries to "rationalize" it away, that you're special. And special to him.

You've managed to do more than just slip under his skin. When he thinks too hard on it, he can admit it (just to himself). You've infiltrated all four corners of his heart so deeply, he doesn't have a prayer of scooping you out.

Some days, it's all he can do not to reach out while you're chatting away, filling the silence.

He can picture it like a scene in his mind: of interrupting your mouth with a gentle hand on your cheek, tilting your face up to his and showing you, with or without words, that he wants you...

And yet.

He can't help but watch how you are with Dean.

You two tease each other, bicker and gripe over coffee grinds left in the coffee pot and who ate the last of the leftovers. You fight with Dean over the remote on movie night (once, damn near smothering him with a pillow).

But you also dote on him, making sure Dean has one of his favorite desserts every time you go out to buy groceries. You swap his beer out for water when he's not looking. (And though Dean frowns and grumbles, he doesn't argue with your raised brow and imploring look.)

It's not quite flirting, but it's not quite platonic either—at least in Sam's eyes. You and Dean seem to have something.

And sometimes, your playful banter with his brother makes Sam sick to his stomach.

Like today, when Sam’s sitting at the kitchen table reading while you're making a cup of tea. The silence between you two is amiable, like usual.

Sam steals a glance at you and has to smile.

"Going with purple polka dots today?" he asks.

You look over with knitted brows of confusion, until you follow his gaze. You laugh sheepishly and wiggle your toes through your fuzzy socks.

"The floor is cold as hell," you defend yourself.

Sam's smile deepens a fraction as he turns back to his book.

"They're cute," he adds.

You turn your face to hide your blush. The mild thunder of heavy boots announces Dean's presence as he pops into the kitchen.

"Oh good, you're cooking. What's for dinner?" he asks. You turn to give him a familiar narrowed look.

"Who says I'm cooking?" you counter.

"Well, you're doing something on the stove..." Dean peers over and catches a whiff of the concoction you're brewing. He grimaces. "Second thought, I'm good. That smells like ass, whatever it is."

You roll your eyes at him. "It's just green tea, Dean. You know, health?"

He levels a deadpan expression at you as he opens up the pantry.

"I see your 'health' and I raise you...Doritos," he says. He digs his hand into the bag he's just pilfered and crunches a mouthful in your face. You can't help but splutter a laugh and push Dean away.

"You're ridiculous. If you catch a heart attack at 50, don't come crying to me."

"Hey, at least I'll die happy."

"Oh, right. A silver lining there. I'd hate to see what your arteries look like," you tease.

"Has anyone told you that you're unsavory?" Dean asks, continuing to crunch with an open mouth.

You smirk. "Is that your way of calling me sweet?"

He snorts. "Sure, sweetheart. We'll call it that."

"You know, I'm not your sweetheart," you point out.

Dean discreetly glances his brother's way with a sly glint in his eyes. Sam doesn't see it; by now he's trying his damndest to keep his eyes in his book and ignore the way his stomach is clenching, chest tightening.

Dean shifts his attention back at you and reaches down to brush your chin with his thumb.

"Not yet, but you could be," he says, in a flirtatious edge that he's never quite taken with you.

You're wide-eyed for a moment. In the end, though, you choose to take it as teasing. You push his hand away and give him an annoyed look.

"God, you're such a clown. Order a pizza if you're that hungry," you rejoin, and you pour two mugs of freshly brewed tea. "I won't even bother offering you one."

"Nope," Dean says, popping the "p." He walks out of the kitchen, giving Sam a firm slap on the back. Sam coughs and shoots his brother a frown.

Dean has the gall to wink at him before he walks out. Like he's having his own little private joke.

Well, Sam isn't laughing. He stares down hard at his book. He tries to ignore everything he just heard and saw out of the corner of his eye.

It becomes too much. He takes up his book and heads out of the kitchen.

He just doesn't see the way you frown as he walks away. There you stand, left holding two mugs of tea for you and him.

Sam returns to his room for a while. He's not hiding. He's...reading.

There's a knock at his door, and if it's Dean, he swears he's going to open his mouth and tell his brother to leave him the hell alone, like he's some kind of moody teen.

But it's you.

"Hey," you greet, after the door creaks open. Sam softens.

"Hey," he says, clearing his throat. "What's up?"

"You," you reply. You bring him his hot mug of tea and set it down on the desk where he sits.

"Thanks," he says.

You nod and place your mug beside his (Lord of the Rings themed, of course), and cross your arms as you lean against his desk.

Sam turns toward you in his chair. His hands rest on his thighs. His gaze travels back up to your face as he tries to keep his neutral, but welcoming to whatever you want to ask him. (He buries his heart deep, as he instinctively does whenever you're near him.)

"You okay?" you ask. Your brows furrow the longer you gaze down at him. Just staring, like you know he's hiding something. Like you can see straight into him, into the shadows where he keeps most of his thoughts of you.

This is perhaps the only area of his life where he's a coward.

"Yeah, I'm good," Sam replies, in a tone that suggests, Why wouldn't I be?

You quirk a smile. "Why don't I believe you?"

Sam swallows. For once, he's not sure what to say to you.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" you say softly. You take a subtle step into his orbit, almost between his open legs. Your demeanor says that you'd gladly listen, do whatever he asked of you. Because you're just that kind.

Sam's mouth twitches upward. "I know. I'm fine, really."

"You're fine, or you're Winchester fine?" you raise a brow.

Sam chuckles then, showing a flash of his smile. It lightens you.

"Maybe a bit of the second one," he admits.

You smile and inch closer, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah? Tell me," you say. Your voice is soft, but not quite a whisper.

It leads Sam to sigh. He grasps your hand where it lies on his shoulder. For a moment, he debates internally. He realizes then that Dean's antics earlier might've been more than just teasing. Maybe it was a subtle nudge—to stop wasting time.

Damn it, just do something, Sam thinks.

When you squeeze his hand back, it's just the small push he needs. He glances up at you.

Then he takes your hand and holds it between both of his, with care. He tugs you forward, surprising you as you step forward between his legs. Your mouth parts in soft surprise when he reaches a hand up to your cheek.

You still look surprised, blushing up to your ears, but you're not pulling away. In fact, your widened gaze moves from his eyes to his lips.

Sam smiles. He tugs you down to him and enacts a living daydream, finally kissing you with everything he has. Everything he’s had locked inside.

You respond to his mouth in kind; the subtle gasp of breath against his lips sharply cuts off as you sink into his kiss. Your trembling hand comes to his cheek, grazing the dull prickle of stubble. When your fingers dive into his hair next, it’s his turn to take a deep breath.

With each new kiss, he explores more of you. His hands find your waist, and he gathers you against his chest. You find purchase on his strong shoulders and give into the opportunity to straddle his hips, sitting in his lap while he continues to make your heartbeat wild in your chest.

Sam slows the kiss, only because his brain is starting to catch up with his heart. He wants to see your face, to make sure this is what you want.

He finds that and more when he looks up at you.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, tenderly brushing his thumb against your cheek.

"Does that answer your question?" he asks, with a soft laugh. You join him and press your forehead against his.

"I don't know,” you tease. Your eyes are dancing, both with amusement and relief. Because your heart has wanted this for even longer than Sam's.

You lean back in to whisper close to his lips. “Maybe I need a little more clarity."

Sam takes you at your word.

AN: It's been a long time since I've written for Sam! 💜 I got in another request for him a while ago. I may dust that one off soon... Until then, let me know what you think of this!

(And don't worry. I didn't forget about the Soldier Boy imagine I promised. That will come out at the end of this week, most likely!)

Read Dean's version: "Dean reads you wrong."

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hunny-bean · 11 months

Text

Sugar & Spice

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank likes you best in blue. Happy Anniversary!

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit Sexual Content, Oral Sex (M & F Recieving), Fingering, Unprotected P in V, Obnoxiously Fluffy at Times, Lingerie, Teasing, Light Bondage, Kinda Mean Frank, Sub Reader. Ok, I think that's it! Let me know if I missed one.

A/N: Needless to say, I'm expanding my comfort zone. I added a splash of mechanic!frank because he's a guilty pleasure of mine. Sorry if he's a little OOC, it's hard to imagine Frank untraumatized and in a happy relationship. Anyway, I hope this turned out alright. Enjoy! Let me know what you think! XOXO.

P.S. I'm open to requests, if you've got any cool ideas! I love writing, but I have experienced writer's block many times before, so I may need a little assistance at some point. I'll write for any Jon Bernthal character as well as a plethora of others that I don't have time to list. If you want to ask for another character, just take a gamble and I'll let you know if I can do it! Also, nothing immoral or illegal, please. Sorry for the insanely long author's note.

You may proceed :)

Read on AO3

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'Curse this stupid lighting,' you thought, examining your makeup in the floor-length mirror. The dim yellow light bulb in Frank's walk-in closet was seriously throwing off your perception of colors. For example, you were pretty sure your blush was looking natural and sweet, but there was always that slim chance you would look like a clown in a different room.

You were tragically forced into the closet by the sound of Frank's keys rattling in the lock. Before that, you had been enjoying the luxury of a bathroom counter. Unfortunately, Frank only had one toilet and you figured he might need it, so you grabbed your bag and sprinted to the closet the second he opened the door. Under no circumstances would you let Frank catch even the slightest glimpse of you. At least, not until you were finished getting ready. You were planning a surprise, after all.

When Frank finally got home, he instantly knew something was off. Usually, when you spent the night with him (which was most nights), you'd come meet him at the door whenever he finished up at the garage. You'd slide through the kitchen in your fuzzy socks to give him a hug and a kiss and ask how his day was. It had become such a routine for the two of you, that when it didn't happen, his first thought was that you weren't there at all.

Frank pulled his boots off and hung up his jacket before wandering into the kitchen to see if you had left a note. Maybe your roommate had another "crisis," he thought, or you had to make a quick run to the grocery store. Finding nothing, he grew slightly concerned. It was very unlike you to just take off without so much as a text explaining why.

Then, Frank heard a faint rustling noise coming from the bedroom. He smiled softly, all of his previous worries evaporating as he went down the hall to see what you were up to. You were probably just taking a nap, he thought, but when he got to the bedroom, you were still nowhere to be found. Frank was just about to try calling you when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the light on under the closet door.

"Hey, baby. You in there?" he asked, knocking gently.

"Be out in a minute!" you called back, fluffing your curls that you barely got done before he showed up.

"Whatcha doin' in the closet?" Frank asked, and even through the door you could hear the amusement in his voice.

"It's a surprise," you replied deviously.

"Come on, darlin', you know I hate surprises," Frank griped.

"You'll like this one, I promise," you proclaimed. "Just be patient."

Frank sighed dramatically. "I wanna see you," he grumbled. Smiling, you meticulously straightened the bow you added to pin two small sections of your hair behind your head.

"Oh, trust me," you muttered. "You will."

Taking a step back, you admired your full body in the mirror. You had bought this underwear set a while ago, and were just waiting for the right occasion to use it. It was a beautiful baby blue color, and it hugged your body perfectly. The bra was a short, sheer corset top that showcased your cleavage without being too obnoxious. The panties were soft and lacy, pulled up high in the sides to accentuate your hips. They weren't quite a thong, but they certainly came close. Decorating both pieces were small embroidered cornflowers that made you feel pretty and delicate. On top of it all was an elegant lace robe that you somehow managed to find in the exact same color. It was almost completely see-through and it barely brushed your mid thigh, so you weren't worried about it obscuring any of your best assets.

You looked good. There was no denying that. In fact, you couldn't think of a time you'd ever looked better. You just hoped Frank's heart was strong enough to withstand the sight of you.

Quickly, you added your finishing touches, brushing on your favorite lip gloss and putting in a pair of dainty diamond earrings that Frank got you for Valentine's Day that year. You gave yourself one more once-over in the mirror. Everything was perfect. At long last, you were ready to execute your master plan.

You were a little nervous, but what you were about to pull off wouldn't work if you let it show, even just a little bit. With that in mind, you took a few deep breaths and rolled your shoulders back. Holding your head up high, you slowly opened the closet door.

When you stepped out into the bedroom, you found Frank laying on top of the covers with his arms positioned behind his head and one leg propped up. He was barely doing anything, and still he was the picture of dominance. Even while wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, he looked incredible. In fact, just seeing him was enough to have you fantasizing about crawling on top of him and hiding your face in his chest. But alas, you could not. You had to stay strong.

As soon as Frank saw you, his eyes lit up like a little kid's on Christmas morning. He immediately sat up straight, looking utterly dazzled. It seemed you were right. This was one surprise he could get behind.

"Do you like it?" you asked beguilingly. You gave him a small spin, showing off all the intricate details.

"That's the stupidest question you've ever asked, sweetheart," Frank replied, rising to meet you across the room. "You're a fuckin' angel."

He pulled you in by your waist to leave a soft peck on your lips. Seeing his mouth shine with your lip gloss when he pulled away made your heart skip a beat. You weren't always a possessive person, but that changed when you discovered what it felt like to leave your mark on someone. Especially someone as desirable as Frank Castle.

"Happy anniversary, baby," Frank drawled sweetly.

"Happy anniversary." You were sure you were smiling like an idiot, but you couldn't help it. You and Frank had been together for four years now, and it felt like the shortest lifetime you'd ever experienced. The love you felt for the man in front of you was stronger than anything you had ever felt before, and you knew in your heart that would never change.

Frank wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back in for another kiss, this one considerably longer than the last. The two of you stood there for a while, making out while your hands explored the familiar planes of each other's bodies. Frank was fucking your mouth slowly with his tongue, kissing you like a promise in the way he knew made your knees weak. You almost gave up on the plan right then and there, but your excitement for what was to come later that night saved you from falling into the trap.

You reached a hand down between you to palm at Frank's growing erection. You heard him let out a low hum, and you felt the vibrations travel from his chest through yours, relaxing you from the inside out. It didn't take long for him to start pushing back against your warm hand, seeking some relief, but he didn't find any. . .

because that was when you stopped moving. You pulled away from the kiss, keeping your hand perfectly still and looking up at him sweetly through your eyelashes.

"What time is it?" you inquired, focusing all your energy into keeping a straight, innocent face.

"Uh. . . 'bout 6:30?" Frank was obviously not thrilled that you had stopped kissing him to ask that of all things. 'Perfect,' you thought maliciously. Unable to fight it any longer, a sly, excited smile slowly overtook your face.

"It's dinner time," you whispered.

Before he could react, you slipped out of Frank's grasp and sauntered away to the kitchen. You went straight to the pantry to gather everything you would need to make spaghetti and garlic bread, and set it on the counter next to the stove.

When Frank was finished staring blankly at the wall, mystified, he joined you in the kitchen to find you filling up a pot with water at the sink. He crept up behind you, wrapping you up in a hug and leaving a soft kiss on your cheek.

"What'd you do that for, hmm?" He was using a voice that you were all too familiar with. It was the voice he used when he wanted something from you, and most days it had you folding instantly. He sounded so condescending, and it was playing right into your more submissive side. He was being an asshole, but he was just such a hot asshole, and somehow it always. freaking. worked.

Except it wouldn't work today. You would make sure of it.

"Go sit down, Frankie," you requested, gesturing to the bar behind the sink.

"Dinner can wait a little while. Your tomatoes aren't gonna go bad in an hour, sweetheart." You shut off the faucet and tried to move over to the stove, but Frank tightened his hold on you, refusing to let you go.

"I'm hungry," you complained.

"So am I," Frank teased, making sure you could feel the proof of his statement pressed up against you. You rolled your eyes at how audible his stupid smirk was.

"I'm trying to make us a special anniversary dinner. Now go sit down, Frank."

Frank knew you weren't actually upset with him, and he wasn't stupid so he knew what you were doing. You weren't stupid either, so you knew he secretly liked it. You were having a competition, and you couldn't wait to finally beat your insufferably headstrong boyfriend at a game of wills. All you had to do to win was hold out until you were finished eating, and this time around you had some tricks up your sleeve.

Frank groaned defeatedly. No matter how much he wanted you, his chivalrous upbringing prevented him from denying his lady what she wanted. So, he gave in and trudged around the counter to sit on the barstool across from the sink. You could feel his eyes following you as you went about making your dinner. His gaze was burning holes all over your body, heating up your core and exhilarating your mind. Every movement you made was intentional, perfectly executed in a way that kept Frank on edge and his jeans too tight.

When you needed something from the lower cabinets, you would bend over to show off your panties, and the fabric would stretch tighter around the swell of your ass. When you needed something from the top cabinets, you would stand on your tiptoes and stretch to reach it, revealing more of your tummy and causing the underwire to push your chest out a little further. While you were reading from the recipe book, you would "absent-mindedly" twirl your hair around your fingers or lean forward on the counter, subtly arching your back.

Once, when you were finished blending your home-made spaghetti sauce and it was heating up on the stove, you dipped a finger in the pot and delicately licked it clean. You didn't look at Frank while you did it because you're sure you would have laughed at how ridiculous it was, but you knew he saw it (and liked it) from his small frustrated sigh.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" he asked, semi-sarcastically.

"Nope!" you replied happily, dropping your handful of dry spaghetti in the boiling water.

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure, yeah." You smiled at him, walking past the bar to put your leftover garlic in the pantry on the other side.

As you were walking back, you failed to notice Frank had hopped to the barstool closest to you until he had already sprung his attack. Lightning fast, he snatched you up and pulled you towards him, slipping a hand under your robe to grab at your ass and wrapping the other around your waist to hold you still. He buried his face in your neck, and you felt him shudder and tighten his grip as he inhaled deeply. The special occasion perfume you wore never failed to drive him wild.

"It's just that I feel so useless sitting over here, doing nothing," he purred, his lips tracing patterns across your collarbone.

"You're definitely not doing nothing," you mumbled.

"That right? What am I doin' then, hmm?"

When you didn't respond, Frank slid his hand away from your ass and dragged two of his fingers gently over the lace covering your arousal. When he drew his hand back and held it up, you saw his fingers were significantly shinier than they were before. That was the biggest downside to fancy underwear. Sure, they look nice, but they do nothing to absorb moisture.

"Is that what I'm doing?" You nodded. "Yeah? But I've just been sitting here," Frank teased.

'Goddammit,' you thought. 'How did I ever think I could make it past dinner with this asshole?'

"Know what I think? I think you just like attention. You put on a show for whoever's watching and you get soaked right through, is that it?" He moved his hand back down to start rubbing gentle circles on your clit through the fabric.

"No, I don't," you fussed, pushing at Frank's bicep to try and dislodge his hand. He just pressed down harder, making you desperately wish you could squeeze your thighs together and grind on his fingers until you were dripping on the floor.

"No? Then what is it, sweetheart? What's got you so wet, huh?"

"Just you," you mumbled. "Just your attention."

"Yeah? That's sweet, baby. Well if this is all my fault, then I should do somethin' about it, shouldn't I?"

Unable to fight back any longer, you nodded. The ache in your core was running too deep, and the relief Frank promised seemed more satisfying than any victory possibly could. Grinning dangerously, Frank released you and stood up before pulling you back into a feverish kiss. You got so lost in the contact that you didn't realize Frank was pushing you until your back hit the counter.

Suddenly, Frank's hands traveled down to settle on your upper thighs. This was a signal you were all too familiar with. Barely a second after you felt it, you jumped, wrapping your legs around him as he set you down on the counter.

As soon as he had you where he wanted you, Frank latched onto your neck, kissing and biting wherever he could reach, leaving faint red marks in all your most sensitive places. You squeezed your eyes shut tight and bit your lip hard as voltaic sensations zipped up and down your spine. Frank slipped your robe gently off your shoulders, leaving light kisses along the newly exposed skin.

Frank left a darker bruise on the base of your neck before tenderly grabbing your jaw to trace his tongue along your bottom lip. With one hand (and a little cooperation on your part), he pulled your robe the rest of the way off and tossed it to the side. Then, he began moving slowly down your torso, stopping to nip lightly at your rigid buds through the flowers hiding them and lick a few gentle stripes up your stomach. When he got too far down to bend over comfortably, he pulled his barstool up behind him and tugged you to the edge of the counter before sitting back down.

At first you didn't know what he was planning, but you figured it out pretty quick when he grabbed your legs and tossed them over his shoulders. Your tailbone was aching and the faucet was digging into your back, but you couldn't bring yourself to care when Frank began leaving hot kisses up your thigh. His stubble was rough against your skin and you were secretly hoping you would still be feeling it in the morning.

You felt Franks nose bump against your clit as he swiped his tongue over your obvious wet spot. The sudden feeling surprised you, and you didn't have time to prevent a small whine from slipping out. Smirking, Frank drew his tongue tortuously slowly from the very back of your cunt to your sensitive nub. When he reached it, he sucked gently at it, feeling your thighs tremble around his head.

"Frank, please," you gasped, throwing your head back when he sucked harder.

Frank finally started slipping his fingers in your waistband, and tapped your hip to get you to lift up. He tugged your panties down to your knees and-

*hisssssssssss*

"Oh, shit!" you cried, pushing Frank away from you. Your spaghetti was bubbling over! You hopped off the counter and pulled your underwear back up, running to stir the pasta with your wooden spoon. As soon as you got the water to settle, your timer went off, signaling that it was done.

You grabbed Frank's strainer (which was actually one of yours that you brought over to encourage Frank to eat better) and drained your spaghetti over the sink. While you were shaking out all the water droplets, you looked up to find Frank moping with his head resting in his hand.

"Oh, come on," you said, noticing his pouty face. "What did you want me to do, let your kitchen burn down?"

"You can't start a fire with spaghetti."

"You'd be surprised."

"I just needed five more minutes, baby. That's it," Frank complained.

"Five more minutes and we'd be eating spaghetti-flavored mush," you retorted. "Besides, dinner's just about ready now. You've only gotta wait another half hour, and then you can have whatever you want."

Frank brightened slightly at the prospect, though he tried to hide it. Turns out, after four years of dating, you learn to spot the little emotions flickering behind your partner's eyes.

"Why are you doing this to me, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Don't pretend like you're not enjoying it."

"I just wanna touch you. Why won't you let me touch you, hmm? I know you want me to," Frank grumbled.

"I did let you touch me," you argued back lightheartedly.

"Yeah, but that wasn't part of the plan, was it baby? You're still trying to stay away from me."

"Why does it matter what I'm trying to do if you got what you wanted anyway?" you reasoned.

"I didn't get what I wanted."

"Tough luck. You will."

"You would've lost if it weren't for those fuckin' noodles," Frank jeered.

"Why do you think I set so many timers?"

*ding*

You switched off the oven and grabbed some potholders to extract your garlic bread.

"Go sit at the table. I'll bring you a plate," you ordered.

Frank sighed, but he did as he was told. As the two of you ate together, you actually had a very nice conversation, laughing and talking about your days as if nothing had even happened. Frank told you about a guy that was trying to save the ugliest, most broken car that had ever entered the shop. You told Frank about the return of one of your nightmare customers. For the entire time you were seated at the table, there was no torture whatsoever on either part. You were both content to celebrate your anniversary with good food and the best company you could ask for.

When you were finally done eating and talking, it had been well over half an hour, but it didn't feel like it. Your time spent with Frank never dragged on endlessly like it seemed to elsewhere. His presence was like a multipurpose drug to you, and it worked better than any stimulant or depressant you could find in even the sketchiest of back-alleys in Hell's Kitchen. There was no doubt in your mind that you had found the person you would be spending the rest of your life with.

You stood up to begin clearing your dishes, but Frank caught your wrist before you could touch a single utensil.

"Oh, no you don't," Frank said, pushing you back down into your chair. "You did the hard part, let me handle all the easy stuff."

"Yes, sir," you giggled, watching him work. When everything was cleared, you joined Frank in the kitchen, where you found him rinsing the dishes with warm water and loading them into the dishwasher.

Copying what he had done to you earlier, you wrapped your arms around his midsection, hugging him tightly and pressing your face against his back. He patted your arm with his wet hands, and you smiled into his shoulder before wiping it off on his shirt. Closing your eyes, you relaxed into him, enjoying his warmth and his familiar scent.

"You can just leave them in the sink for now," you suggested sleepily.

"Now who's impatient?" Frank teased.

Groaning softly, you gave him one more big squeeze before letting go and walking away down the hall.

"When you're ready, you can come meet me in the bedroom," you called behind you. Frank finished up pretty quickly after that.

He entered the bedroom to find you laying down with your eyes closed. Smiling at how peaceful you looked, he carefully laid down on the bed next to you. Almost immediately, you rolled over on top of him, enjoying the feeling of his warm chest against your face. He was like your own personal space heater, which made him very useful to have around in the colder months.

You shivered at the feeling of his hand running through your hair. 'How did I ever relax before I met him?' you wondered. You felt dangerously close to falling asleep, and as good as that sounded, there was something you had been looking forward to for a while that sounded significantly better.

Forcing yourself to sit up, you sat straddling Frank's stomach, staring into his eyes and waiting for him to make the first move. You had been having fun all evening; the night belonged to him now.

"I know what you were after earlier, sweetheart. You look a little tired now, is that still what you want?" he asked. He was always so gentle with you. Even when he really wasn't.

"Yeah," you confirmed, "But I want you to do whatever you want."

"Whatever I want, huh? That's a dangerous thing to say, baby."

"I trust you," you whispered. "And I already know I'm gonna like it, whatever you decide."

Frank hummed, running his hands up and down your thighs as he thought about what to do first. You knew he had reached a decision when he grabbed you and tossed you onto the bed beside him. You yelped at the sudden motion, looking over at him to see exactly what it was he was trying to do.

Frank was taking his belt off. He slid over to sit in front of you, belt in hand, and pulled you back onto his lap.

"You know I can't let you get away with all that bullshit you pulled back there, right?" he asked patronizingly.

"I mean. . . you could," you responded.

Frank scoffed. "You should shut your mouth before you make this worse for yourself. You wanna get to the fun part, don't you?"

"This is the fun part," you confessed.

Frank grabbed your jaw roughly with one hand, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him.

"You're gonna take that back in a minute, baby," Frank growled. He released your jaw to catch both your wrists in his hands, pinning them behind your back.

"All I wanted when I got home was to make my pretty girl feel good, but you decided to be a fuckin' brat." There was a darkness in his eyes that you knew was just for show, but it thrilled you all the same. "I'm gonna show you exactly what that feels like."

Holding both your wrists in one hand, he took his belt and wrapped it tightly around them, latching the buckle and securing them together. When he was sure it would hold and wasn't too uncomfortable, he pushed you off his lap so you were laying on your back on the bed.

"Now," he said, "I'm gonna finish what we started."

He immediately sprung into action, forcibly spreading your legs and slipping your panties all the way down. He tossed them aside and fit himself between your legs, leaning in to kiss you. At first you weren't sure how this was supposed to be a punishment, but you figured it out pretty quickly.

Frank kissed you so deeply, tugging at your hair and tracing your curves with his fingertips. He gripped your waist and your thighs, his dull fingernails leaving behind little indents when he'd get carried away. He could put his hands all over you, wherever and whenever he wanted, but you couldn't do the same. You wanted to pull him closer and squish his biceps teasingly to make him laugh. You wanted to feel his stubble in your hands and rub his shoulders as he bit your neck. You never realized how important your hands were when kissing someone until they were taken from you.

As Frank took to reinforcing the fading red marks he left earlier, he slipped a hand between your thighs to cup your dripping pussy in his palm. You gasped as he used the heel of his hand to rub it a few times, the pressure creating an addictive friction that had you grinding down against him.

Without warning, he slid two fingers inside you, finding your g-spot with practiced ease and stroking it gently. You cried out softly at the sudden stretch. Frank's fingers filled you up so much better than yours ever could. Sometimes you swore he knew more about what made you feel good than you knew about yourself.

Your thighs shook as he began pumping his fingers slowly in and out, stopping every so often to grind his palm against your clit. Your arms were falling asleep underneath you, but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the feeling of Frank's hair tickling your stomach as he moved down to replace his fingers with his tongue.

You whined at the loss when he pulled his hand away, but your disappointment didn't last long as he truly began to finish what he'd started. Your thighs clamped down around his head when you felt the first swipe of his tongue, but he forced them back open, his wet fingers marking your thigh with your slick.

You moaned as he gave your cunt several long licks, cleaning up the moisture that had pooled between your folds. The need to reach out and push his head down or grab onto his hair was overwhelming, but you couldn't move. All you could do was take what he gave you. When he decided you'd had enough teasing, he dove in fully, eating you out like it was his favorite thing in the world. He tongued at your clit, sucking it at random intervals to see what noises he could coax out of you. Sometimes, he would lap gently at your entrance, just barely dipping inside so you could feel how empty you really were. He gave you one more rough lick before plunging his fingers back inside you and sucking hard at your clit. You almost sobbed as you came over his hand, trembling through your release. Frank groaned softly against you, enjoying the feeling of your walls fluttering and pulsing around any part of him.

He patted your thighs lovingly, coming up from between your legs to kiss you. You were still slightly out of it and breathing heavily, but tasting yourself on Frank's tongue brought you back to the present.

"See what you did to me now?" he asked when he pulled away.

"Yeah," you breathed.

"Think we're even, then?"

"Uh-huh," you answered, struggling to sit up with your hands tied.

"I don't."

"What?"

"I didn't let you touch me, but I still made you feel good, didn't I? All you ever did was tease me. Do you still think we're even, baby?" Frank questioned, stroking your lip with his thumb.

"No," you mumbled.

"So what are you gonna do about it?"

Instead of responding verbally, you parted your lips and sucked his thumb gently into your mouth. After a few seconds, Frank pulled it out and replaced it with the two fingers that had previously been inside you, encouraging you to clean them off.

"That's a good start." Frank pulled his fingers back, satisfied with your work. "But you're gonna need to do more than that, sweetheart."

You hesitated, trying to figure out how you were supposed to lean forward without falling flat on your face.

"You know what I want, baby," he encouraged. "What are you waiting for?" Frank knew very well what you were waiting for, but his sadistic side wanted to watch you figure it out.

Rising up onto your knees, you spread your thighs apart for better balance, and slowly began to lower your head towards Frank's zipper. You made it all the way down without crashing, but you refused to make a fool out of yourself by trying to unbutton his pants with your teeth. Instead, you gazed up at him desperately, pleading for assistance with just your eyes.

Unfortunately, Frank wasn't budging. He raised his eyebrows at you expectantly, letting you know you were gonna have to work for it. Huffing, you lowered your gaze back to the zipper, bracing yourself for your impending embarrassment. You were just about to attack his button with your tongue when you were struck by an idea. There was more than one way you could work for it.

Leaning in closer, you started mouthing at his bulge, kissing it wetly through the fabric. You could tell it was affecting him by the way he twitched under your tongue when you licked lovingly at (what you hoped was) the tip. Using your nose, you nudged at the hem of Frank's t-shirt, and he pulled it up for you so you could leave little red marks and sweet kisses across his abs. Frank grunted quietly when you sucked at a sensitive spot, petting your head softly so you'd do it again. He was really enjoying the sight of you bent over, begging for his cock with your mouth. So much so, that he almost didn't want to give it to you.

He held out for a while, only giving in when the warmth of your mouth soaked fully through his jeans, wetting his dick and making him want more.

"Shit, alright," he groaned, reaching down to unzip his jeans. He tugged them down just enough to get to his boxers, reaching inside to pull out his hard, leaking cock.

"There," he murmured, tapping it sweetly against your cheek. "Have at it, pretty girl."

You were concerned about catching it in your mouth without your hands, but Frank generously decided you didn't have to everything on your own. When you turned your head towards it, he held it still and fed it to you slowly, stroking your hair as you went at your own pace.

You paused for a little while in the beginning to pay attention to his dripping head, laving at the sensitive bottom and sucking softly at the tip. You left a dainty lick on his slit before you took more of him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around his length. You stared up at him as you dragged your tongue teasingly along the underside, tracing a prominent vein that you were very familiar with.

Frank's breathing was getting heavier, letting you know you were doing a good job. Feeling emboldened, you carefully took him all the way to the base, choking softly as he hit the back of your throat.

"Attagirl, fuck," Frank breathed, pushing your head down farther. He held you there for a moment, subtly grinding his cock against the roof of your mouth. Jolting at the feeling, he pushed a little too hard by accident, triggering your gag reflex. You pulled back to catch your breath before continuing to bob your head up and down along his length, taking him as deep as you could without coughing. Before long, your jaw was aching and tears were streaming down your cheeks from choking a few too many times.

Finally, after nearly fifteen minutes of working Frank over with nothing but your mouth, he groaned deeply, signaling his impending release.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna-" he warned, sighing as he came in hot ribbons down your throat. You closed your eyes and relaxed into the feeling of his cock pulsing on your tongue, waiting for it to soften slightly before letting it fall from your mouth.

You sat back up and watched Frank pull his pants the rest of the way off before tucking himself back into his underwear.

"Are we even now?" you asked.

"Yeah, I'd say so," Frank smiled. "Come here, I'll get you untied real quick."

You turned away from him so he could take the belt off you, wiggling your fingers and rolling your wrists to regain the feeling you had lost in your hands. Twisting back around, you pounced, knocking him flat on his back and pushing his shirt up as far as it would go. Making up for lost time, you began rubbing at his chest and his shoulders, and tracing his abs with your fingertips. He chuckled at your neediness, pulling his shirt off to give you better access, which you happily took advantage of. Cradling his face in your hands, you left dozens of little kisses all over his mouth and his neck. It felt so good to be able to touch him again, you didn't think you would ever let go.

Still holding you close to him, Frank turned so his back was against the headboard and he could cuddle you in a more comfortable position. For a while, you laid in silence, syncing your breathing with his and seeing if you could find a way to match your heartbeats. So far, not much luck, but you were sure you'd figure it out someday.

Checking the clock on the nightstand, you saw that you'd been laying there for about ten minutes. "That should be enough time," you thought. You looked up to find Frank's eyes closed, but you knew he was awake.

"Frankie?" you called, almost inaudibly.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think it's time for the 'fun part' now?"

Frank smiled. "Do you want it to be?"

He opened his eyes, watching you closely as you unfastened your bra in the back, and slipped it off slowly. You dropped it on the bed beside you, leaving you completely exposed for Frank to admire you.

"Yeah, I do," you whispered.

Frank surged up to kiss you again, this time much gentler than before. He ran his hands up your sides to tenderly massage your bare chest. You whimpered into the kiss as he rubbed at your nipples, the little buds sensitive from being previously neglected.

Feeling impatient, you tugged his boxers down and quickly began stroking his growing length. Frank hissed at the shock, but he was thrusting up into your hand before too long. As soon as he was half hard, you lifted up and positioned his cock at your entrance before sinking down all the way. You cried out at the intrusion, feeling him curve perfectly inside you to brush your sweet spot on every thrust.

You sat there for a minute, just barely circling your hips as you focused on the feeling of him hardening fully inside you. When he was finished growing, you began to ride him, slowly pushing your body up and down on his cock as he raised his hips to meet you half-way.

Frank punched little noises out of your chest with every bounce, leaning in to hide his face in your neck. He breathed in the wonderful scent of sweat, sex, and expensive perfume, groaning desperately into your skin.

After a while of thrusting and grinding and bouncing, your thighs began to ache, and you weren't able to maintain the same speed anymore. Picking up on your sudden change, Frank took charge almost on autopilot, and flipped you over so you were underneath him.

You moaned at the relief and the change in tempo as he fucked into you faster and harder and deeper, but still with so much love and care behind every movement. When you caught his eyes, it felt like you were staring into your future, and you saw nothing but inevitable happiness.

Your gasps and whines got louder and louder as you chased your release. Your soaked cunt was pulling Frank back in harder, squeezing tight around him to try and keep him from pulling out. Every sensation you were feeling kept building and building until finally, the tension snapped. You almost screamed as your climax washed over you like a rising tide, whiting out your vision and sending waves of pleasure washing over you.

Frank was right behind you, as the feeling of your walls constricting and fluttering around him pushed him over the edge. He came deep inside you, filling you up perfectly before pulling out carefully and collapsing beside you.

The two of you laid next to each other, holding each other tightly and soaking up the afterglow permeating the air all around you. You couldn't have asked for a better anniversary, or a better special someone to share it with. In that moment, as you got ready to drift off to sleep, everything was perfect.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

#frank castle #frank castle smut #frank castle x reader #jon bernthal #jon bernthal smut #jon bernthal x reader #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x you #the punisher

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002yb · 6 months

Note

Gimmie a jason who is utterly unaware of his own sex appeal and a dick who is absolutely committed to being the first one to rake his nails down and fuck between jason's thighs.

It's never a stretch for Dick to figure out why Jason shuts down on them. For as emotional as everyone accuses Jason of being, it's never without reason. It's why when Jason suddenly starts to pull away from Dick in the middle of a briefing, he knows he fucked up somehow. A feat, given this exchange has been nothing but professional.

Even still, it happens and Dick scrambles to figure out why.

He carries on with the conversation, but not without running the entire thing through in his head - start to finish. Regardless of what angle he looks at it though, Dick can't fathom what there is for Jason to be upset with.

They have a case. They need bait. Someone beautiful, someone alluring, someone capable: Jason.

Again and again Dick tries to pinpoint what it is that set Jason off, but there's nothing. Dick has done nothing but unwittingly sing Jason's praises this entire exchange, but the more he talks the deeper Jason's scowl becomes until, abruptly, he cuts Dick off with a sneer.

"Hah, hah." Jason scoffs, arms drawn tight around himself. With a snarl, he snaps, "Stop fucking around, dick. We need someone with a modicum of sex appeal for this."

Dick furrows his brows, head tilting slightly in his confusion as he meets Jason with an inquiringly drawled, "Yeah?"

It's the wrong response, given how Jason flushes red, angry and embarrassed and oh. Dick realizes it a moment too late - Jason thinks Dick is making fun of him. Just the notion baffles Dick enough that he's flabbergasted, helpless but to watch in dumbfounded horror because what!?

"Wait! Wait, wait--" Dick sputters, chasing after where Jason storms away. It doesn't take long to catch up to him, to catch Jason's wrist and hold him back and pull away when Jason turns on him - puffed up and spitting vitriol because 'you're not fucking funny, dickwing; go to hell,' but Dick is unperturbed, hands raised in placation while talking over Jason because, "Just wait, okay?"

Jason is steaming. Dick might be, too.

"The hell would I be making fun of?" Dick asks, just to make sure.

Jason scowls at him again, "I'm not bait. I'm not a hook. You have eyes--"

"Yeah, and I'm looking." Dick gripes back, shoving Jason first in the shoulder, then prodding at his pecs, waist, hips, all while badgering, "Sex appeal, sex appeal, sex appeal--"

"Oh my god, shut the fuck up," Jason complains, smacking at Dick's hand. Dick slaps Jason's thigh in retaliation and persists with his barrage of, 'sex appeal,' until Jason relents with a defeated groan.

Unconvinced as Jason still looks, Dick still offers him a small smile while pinching Jason's cheek between thumb and forefinger, laughing under his breath at how Jason scowls and saying anyway, "Sex appeal."

"Cut it out." Jason grumbles, flush still high on his cheeks.

Dick's hand drops from Jason's cheek to the curve of Jason's neck, the heel of his palm rested over Jason's fluttering pulse. There's an appeal in that, too. In the blood that rushes to Jason's cheeks and burns across the tips of his ears, in the ways he's vulnerable to contrast everything else Jason has built himself up to be.

"I wasn't joking." Dick tells him, earnest.

And Jason's pulse skips beneath his hand, his breath catching. Dick is always attentive with Jason, so of course he notices when Jason shuts down on him; he catches on just as quick whenever Jason opens up, too - whenever Jason makes a leap and needs to be caught.

Dick thumbs over the cut of Jason's jaw, the barest of smiles pulling at his lips. Tentative and small so as to not scare Jason off; timid and enthralled because Dick meant it: Jason is beautiful, alluring, captivating and breathtaking. Dick's most genuine smiles have only ever been biting and he's helpless to how he bares his teeth or how his heart skips a beat in time with Jason's own.

#dickjay #jaydick #dorks in love #prerelationship vibes

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brayneworms · 7 months

Text

gouge away (if you want to) | johnny joestar

kinktober day ten: kissing

word count. 2.4k

content. disabled johnny, but like his prostate works, anal fingering, prostate orgasm, kissing, johnny cries after sex it's canon, gender-neutral reader, fluff, mentions of ableism, established relationship, this is sappy

♪ gouge away - pixies

kinktober mlist | regular mlist

For a while—a long while—after his accident, Johnny thought he'd never be with someone again.

A part of it was the paralysis. Okay, a big part of it was. He learns after using the chair for a bit that he sorta stops becoming a real person to most people, that their eyes just sorta slide past him. Oh no, how sad, that guy in the chair must have it so bad. Don't be rude and stare, now. Sometimes he wishes they would stare at him, like he knows they wanna. He almost finds their determination to ignore him totally more jarring.

And that's only half the problem. The other part is that even if he could find someone, his goddamn dick doesn't work anymore. Which would for sure pose a problem. So Johnny resigns himself miserably to a sexless and potentially loveless life, and pretends it doesn't make him want to die.

Still. Anyways. It all seems kinda redundant now, 'cause he's lying under the sky in the dirt with his pants halfway off, and you're—you're doing something, or you're tryin' something that Johnny is extremely skeptical about. A bit of time travelling with Gyro had taught him many times that there was a lot of things about the human body he was ignorant of, but he still can't help but be dubious of the claim you made to him a few minutes ago.

I'm gonna make you cum.

At once, a protest had risen to his lips. You can't. Almost a reflex. You'd cocked your head in inquiry, and Johnny had gone redder, down to the tips of his ears hidden by his hat. It's my—it doesn't work. Down there doesn't...

You seem to consider this for a few moments. Then you say, there's something else we can try.

You disappear inside the tent and come out with the bottle of aloe vera they'd been using to treat the burns that had blistered as a result of the unforgiving desert sun. He had red peeling skin all up his shoulders and the bridge of his nose.

He watches dubiously as you squeeze a clear, cold glob onto your fingers. "Wh—where are those goin'?"

He's pretty sure he has an idea.

"You know what a prostate is, Johnny dear?" You always call him that. Johnny dear, like it's all one word. Johnnydear. He always gripes and groans about it and then has to turn away extremely quickly to hide his flush. He's going to examine the reaction he gets when you baby him sometime, he promises himself, just not right now. He's got a lotta shit on his plate, okay? Corpses to find and such.

"N-no," he answers, stammering when you kneel between his legs and spread his thighs gently apart. He sucks in a breath; one of your fingers leaves a cool trail of aloe along the skin there.

"A prostate," you tell him patiently, like you're not situated between his naked thighs, "is a gland that people with your particular reproductory set are born with."

"You sound like Gyro," he mutters. "Kinda killing the mood a little."

"I just want to make sure you're fully informed." You roll your eyes. "It's just that you're leaking precum, see?" To his mortification, you swipe your fingers over the tip of the dick he can't feel and hold them up; under the starlight, they gleam, and he burns with embarrassment. "Means you might be able to feel it. Means I might be able to make you cum."

Johnny swallows hard. He wants—it sounds good. Sounds great. But with the hope comes that fear, an ever-present shadow. What if it doesn't work?

"Hey." You lean over him, and before Johnny can protest you've captured his lips, a slow, deliberate cling. Johnny loves kissing you. He thinks it might be his favourite thing to do, other than jockeying and he can't do that anymore, so this takes an automatic first place. He sighs and melts against you like softened butter, his hands winding themselves over your shoulder and jaw. He loves everything about it. The closeness, the slow gentle intimacy, the way you smell. That last part is probably weird, 'cause you mostly smell like sweat and leather, but Johnny likes it all the same.

You kiss for a while; one of your hand strokes soothing shapes into his ribcage. When you pull back, the panic that had been rearing up inside him has faded to a dull murmur.

"Don't get in your head about it," you whisper. "If you can't feel it, then that's that. You know I won't think less of you."

A lump rises in Johnny's throat, and he shields his eyes from the burning sun of you seein' right through him. "I know," he says, almost petulantly.

"So? Wanna give it a try?"

A part of him doesn't. A part of him is so, so scared. But a bigger part of him, the one that likes kissing you and likes the way you smell and the way you touch him and look at him and everything, really, is nodding before that first part can protest. You kiss him again with a smile, a little faster, a little dirtier this time. This is another thing Johnny likes about kissing—it can take so many different forms. Even if he did find the corpse pieces and get the use of his legs back, Johnny reckons he'd still like kissing more than real sex.

Your mouth starts moving down, sweeping the sensitive skin of his neck and collarbones, the valleys of his pectorals, a nipple. The last one makes Johnny gasp and you giggle, and he splays a palm over his face in embarrassment. You coax such stupid noises outta him. But you seem to enjoy it, so whatever.

Down, down, down. Somewhere between his navel and his pubic bone he stops feeling it. But it still somehow feels sorta nice, which doesn't make a whole lotta sense but it does to him, so. He watches you between his fingers as you reach between his legs, he thinks prodding.

You look up at him. "I'm going to put a finger in, okay?"

Johnny nods eagerly. "Don't gotta tell me. I won't feel it."

You roll your eyes. "I'm still gonna tell you. We can stop whenever, okay?"

"Okay," Johnny says impatiently, and wiggles his hips. You smack his hipbone playfully, which does nothing to temper his brattiness on account of him not feelin' a fuckin' thing. Then you get a quiet, serious, concentrated look on your face that Johnny usually only sees when you're fighting. Or when he's making you cum. That expression, more than any of your words or hesitation, it what makes him quiet down and take it serious.

There's a silence that stretches on. Johnny supposes you must be doin' something, considering the slight furrow he can see between your brows and the achingly careful, gradual movement of your wrist. Finally, after about a minute, you look up at him.

"My finger's in," you tell him, and Johnny bites his lip.

"Can't feel it," he says. He's starting to think this was a really bad idea.

"Just lemme—hold on," you say, and your wrist moves a little, and then—

Johnny keens. He feels, he fuckin' feels so much that it lights him up from the inside and sets his nerves alight, some part deep inside him that he didn't even know existed 'till five minutes ago and it's so good it immediately brings tears to his eyes.

"Oh," he says like he's surprised, and he is, apparently so much so that it's all he can say. "O-oh, oh, oh—"

Your finger retracts back into nothingness, and Johnny bites back a sob. "Johnny?" you ask worriedly. "Did you—is it too much?"

"No, no," he babbles, feeling incoherent already. You brush his hair back from his face with your free hand, the one that ain't inside him, your thumb stroking over his cheek. "It was—fuck, felt so weird. But good. Really, really good. Can you—are you gonna do it again?"

"Will if you want me to," you answer lovingly, and Johnny is biting back another sob for a whole different reason. "Might be a bit intense, Johnny dear. You sure you wanna?"

"Yes, yeah." He stares up at you beseechingly, feeling a bit pathetic but also too far gone to give a shit. "Please, I wanna—I wanna feel it again."

You nod, leaning over to kiss him again. Johnny relaxes into the embrace, losing himself in the familiar touch of your lips, the smell of you, taking the bite out of his surge of panic—and then with no warning you're brushing against that spot inside him again and he's moaning into your mouth, loud and unrestrained. It's pitchy and startled, and your free hand cups the back of his head as he pulls away in shock.

"Fuck, Jesus Christ," he swears, slamming his head back against the dirt. "O-oh, oh god, ohgodohgod—"

"Still good?" you ask, and your fingers made a weird sort of curling motion and it occurs to Johnny that you're movin' them in and out, sort of like you would if you were actually fucking him, and the thought makes him flush so hard he feels feverish. You're fucking him. You're fucking him.

He nods deliriously. "Mhm, yeah," he gasps out, feeling breathless, feeling giddy. "Don't stop, feels so fuckin' good, oh my god."

Your fingers press into him over and over like you're ringin' a bell, and all the while you kiss him and for the first time in ages Johnny feels that both parts of his body are equal. The bottom half has come alive under your jackhammering fingers, the top half consumed by you and your kiss. The kissing makes it so much better, 'cause Johnny reckons if anyone else had their fingers in his ass he'd probably hate it even if they were touching his whatdidyoucallit like that and making him feel amazing. He'd hate it 'cause they wouldn't be you.

The kissing reminds him it's you. The chaps on your lips, the smell of you, the feel of your face and skin, your body pressing into his. It's so all consuming it makes him wanna cry, in a good way, in a weird way. Your fingers move faster and weirder, and Johnny starts making those stupid oh! oh! noises again, stifling them against your mouth, and your tongue presses in and you swallow them whole.

All too soon, Johnny feels a weird tightening, one he hasn't felt since before the incident. He feels a constriction of panic, his fingers clutching at your clothing. "I—hah!—I f-feel weird."

"Bad weird?" Your fingers slow down, nearly stop, and Johnny whines.

"No, no, good weird, good," he pants. "Move again, fuck."

You pick up the pace; Johnny shudders, tensing in your hold all over again. He feels like he's burning, like he's sweating out everything bad he's ever felt.

"Do you mean you're gonna cum?" you ask, your voice lower this time, so close to Johnny's ear it makes him shiver. The harsh brush of your chapped lips against the soft skin there makes his body feel electric.

"I think," he whispers, eyes screwing shut. "Sorry—oh—I think, yeah."

"Don't feel sorry," you tell him almost sternly. "I want to see you cum, Johnny. Wanna see you cum so hard your pretty little head goes blank. You deserve it, yeah?"

"Yeah," he gasps out. "I deserve it."

What you do next with your fingers is almost brutal in the wracks of shivering pleasure it sends simmering through Johnny's body; every curl of them has him writhing and gasping and moaning, he must sound so stupid but you seem to be liking it and fuck, he's liking it, he likes feeling a little stupid and helpless while you take care of him and he's definitely gonna have to unpack that, but later, 'cause—

"I'm gonna cum," he gasps, hands flying out to curl in your clothing. "Baby, baby, I'm gonna cum, I—kiss me? Kiss me, okay, I wanna, oh, oh oh oh—"

You crash your lips together, and your fingers curl up one last lingering time and Johnny shatters. White stars explode over his vision, shatter inside his head, and for a split second it feels like every cell in his body freezes up and screams and dies. He's vaguely aware of some long, drawn-out, breathless noise he's making and the way you swallow it with your mouth.

It takes several seconds for him to come back down to earth. When he does it's to the sensation of you running your fingers through his hair and pressing soft, feathery kisses to his cheeks.

He pants like a dog. When you see his blue eyes on you, you sit up, seem to retract your fingers from between his legs. Your image starts to blur, and Johnny sees your expression crease in concern. He realises he's crying. Not like, actually, not like he's got something to be upset about. He's just... tearing up. Like someone's turned a faucet on behind his eyes and just left it there. He pushes the heels of his hands into the sockets and presses down, willing it to stop, willing the overwhelming feeling blooming in his chest to deflate.

"Hey, hey." Your voice, low and soothing, pressed into his hair, your arms holding him tightly. "You okay?"

"Yes," he says almost angrily. "I'm fine. Dunno why I'm—fuck. Sorry. I'm good, I promise I'm good. That was... so, so good."

Your expression of concern gives way slightly. "You sure?"

"Yeah." Johnny sucks in a shaky, wet breath. "Thanks. Thank you. I didn't even... I didn't even know I could feel like that anymore. Not just 'cause of—you know." He gestures vaguely to the lower half of his body. "All of it. Like, I didn't think anyone would wanna—while I'm still like this. And I—I figured I didn't deserve it, or something. But... it was really good."

Your smile is a little sad. "I'm glad, Johnny dear. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Now that we know it works, we can do it again. And again, and again." He flushes, and you laugh sweetly, and Johnny could just die to the sound of it. "Still, we should get some rest for tonight. Gyro will skin us alive if we oversleep again."

You're right, of course. Johnny lets you maneuvre him onto his sleeping skin, and you unroll yours right next to him. When you do, Johnny reaches for you, clinging like a damn insect. But you don't seem to mind, 'cause you wrap your arms around his waist and bring him in even closer. He tucks his head into your shoulder.

He thinks that he'll get to kiss you tomorrow, too.

His sleep is dreamless and deep.

#🫀.scribes #jjba smut #jjba x reader #johnny joestar x reader #johnny joestar smut #jojo x reader #jojo smut #jjba x dom!reader #dom!reader #dom reader #jjba x dom reader #jjba x gn reader #jjba x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #braynes kinktober 23

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 1 year

Text

paradigm - seonghwa (m)

summary: bored, at work, you start to realize your fellow bartender seonghwa is hot. like really hot. after talking, you find out you’re both having dating trouble. how bad would it be if you helped each other out, just a little bit?

word count: 4.4k

warnings: smut!!!!! switch!seonghwa (leaning bottom), switch!reader (leading top), afab reader, oral (m receiving), cumplay, penetrative sex (unprotected), mentions of alcohol

masterlist

dating sucks, and lately your roster has been disappointing you exponentially. you need new blood, but you’re not sure where to go to find it. you’re tired of apps, bored with shitty conversations and no follow through, and if you have to waste another night out at an expensive restaurant just for the most mediocre sex of your life then you might start to consider celibacy.

you’re griping about all of this to your friend from work, seonghwa, when a customer comes in and ruins the mood. you’re technically off the clock, just here to bug hwa while the dinner rush trickles in, but you decide to do some prep for your shift tomorrow while you wait. you’re not a sommelier by any means, but in an attempt to class up the joint, the owner wanted to hire someone who could pose as a wine snob to make the place seem nicer. enter you, a self proclaimed connoiseur (you drank a lot in college). seonghwa is the night bartending lead, and also the most attractive man in the world, no competition. you’re staying late today to make a house sangria out of some poorly selling wines, but you also wanted to linger and make eyes at seonghwa with his newly bleached hair.

speaking of the object of your desires, seonghwa turns back to you after pouring a round of shots for a guy who barely looks 18 let alone 21, and he jumps back into your previous conversation.

“sorry, what was i saying?” he asks you, wiping his hands on a bar towel.

“did you card that kid?” you ask back, watching the customer struggle to balance the heavy tray of shots back to his table.

“yeah,” seonghwa shrugs. “it didn’t look like a fake but he’s definitely twelve.”

“you’re very ethical,” you point out, struggling to cut the orange in front of you, tongue poking out between your lips in concentration. seonghwa watches on, intrigued by the shock of pink poking your lips, but you interrupt his staring by saying “you were about to solve all my relationship problems before squarepants showed up.”

“right,” he laughs, gently taking the knife from your hands. “let me do this, you’re gonna chop a finger off. you shouldn’t be doing this with a paring knife anyway.”

“that’s all we have back here!” you complain. then, you watch in shock as seonghwa produces a utility knife from thin air. “you a magician?”

“no,” he laughs with that strained smile of his. “i’ve got a couple hidden back here-”

“safe,” you interrupt.

“-face down, in this jar, as safe as can be, thank you,” he continues, pointing to the jar he’s talking about.

“how’d you get those?”

“i asked wooyoung,” he shrugs. “they’ve got plenty in the kitchen so he said i could have some spares.”

“so helpful, that kid,” you say as you swipe an orange slice seonghwa just cut.

“hey!”

“cut em into rounds,” you instruct, taking little nibbles out of the slice in your hands. “they’re going into sangria, so make it pretty.”

“now i’m starting to understand why you can’t land a man,” hwa grumbles as he follows your request.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask in mock hurt.

“you’re high maintenance!”

“i didn’t ask you to do this for me,” you chuckle, taking the knife back from him. “go back to your job, the less we bother each other the earlier i’ll leave.”

“but then who’s gonna get on my nerves?” seonghwa asks with a pout.

“wooyoung?”

“probably.”

“oh, right, i was saying,” he starts again, messing with some of the quick pours, “if you can’t meet anyone on an app then you might have to, gasp, meet someone in person y/n.”

“i know that,” you groan. “but how? where? just start going up to strangers?”

“basically,” hwa nods. “you could start with boy wonder over there.”

“ok, if you’re not gonna be serious about this then we can talk about something else,” you say as you slide the completed slices from your cutting board and into the large sangria pitcher. “how’s your life? any problems we can solve there?”

“hm,” he thinks, “well, hongjoong pointed out yesterday that i haven’t brought anyone back to the apartment in six months, so that’s a new record i think.”

“six months?” you scoff. “i don’t believe you.”

“why not?”

“looking the way you do?” you ask. “no way you don’t get boned on the regular.”

“what do you mean looking the way i do?” seonghwa asks with a smile.

“never mind.”

“no, tell me in detail.”

“i need to grab an apple from the kitchen,” you say, trying to scoot past seonghwa to find your escape. unfortunately, he cages you in, arms enclosing around you and resting on the bar behind you.

“you like the way i look?” he asks with a smirk, and you decide to take the bait.

“um, yeah? especially with your hair like this, it’s kinda sexy,” you admit, not letting seonghwa get the best of you.

“oh?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow at your response. he holds your gaze for a moment, and briefly, very briefly, you think he might kiss you. the sound of the bell above the door distracts seonghwa ever so slightly, and you’re able to slip from his trap before he can stop you again. you scurry to the back of house, hiding in the walk in for just a minute before you head back to the bar.

seonghwa is busy with some of the regulars at the bar, doing his best to relate to these old men and make their disgusting drinks without batting an eye. you’re able to take up your spot at the end of the bar, happily chopping fruit until you’ve got enough for two big pitchers of sangria tomorrow. you start pulling the low bottles from the wine rack behind you, and in your focused state you don’t notice seonghwa finishing up with the men and turning back to watch you. he’s leaning against the bar drying some glasses, his eyes sweeping up and down your body, noticing (not for the first time) how good you look in the uniform. he’s so focused on staring at your ass that he almost doesn’t notice you struggling to reach a wine bottle at the top of the rack, but he steps in and places his hand at the small of your back while he easily grabs the wine you were reaching for, handing it to you with a wink.

“thanks,” you blush, not expecting this small act of kindness from him. his hand lingers for a moment, and when he finally removes it, you can feel the warmth it left in its wake. “how long with you be here tonight?”

“till close, why?” seonghwa asks, hopeful.

“i’m putting this in the walk in, do you mind tasting it before you leave? that should be enough time for it to set, and just let me know if needs anything else?” you ask, not noticing how seonghwa’s face falls once he hears what you need.

“yeah, sure,” he replies. “so you’re heading out?”

“yeah,” you nod. “been here too long, i’m not getting paid overtime for this.”

“i can share some of my tips,” seonghwa offers, but you shake your head.

“i haven’t contributed, those are your tips m’dear.”

“but you did?” seonghwa says, confused.

“how?”

“looking beautiful,” he sighs, making you laugh at the way his face changes from serious to dreamy so quick.

“seonghwa if i didn’t know any better i’d say you’re coming onto me,” you joke, looking for any fruit scraps you might have missed in your clean up.

“and what if i am?” he comes back, and you stop. you look up at him and he just quirks that damn eyebrow again as if to challenge you to respond.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, hwa.”

“i’m just saying, we could help each other out!” he half shouts as you walk away, and you swat in his direction and tell him to quiet down. “think about it!” he calls after you one last time, and then you’re too close to the kitchen to hear what he might try to convince you with next.

you make it home just fine, warming up your dinner before you take a short shower. the whole time you go about your routine though, you keep thinking back to what seonghwa said. he was flirting with you, he made that clear. and when he said you could help each other out? your subconscious needs to hear more about that before it runs wild in your imagination. but you can’t just text him and say hey wanna come fuck?...right?

you decide to distract yourself with a show, doing your best to focus on their drama and not your own. you start dozing off a couple episodes in, the exhaustion from your day finally catching up with you. when your phone buzzing wakes you up, you notice how late it is. your first thought is about the restaurant, this is usually closing time, and then your next thought it seonghwa. did he try your sangria like you asked? that’s when you realize the reason for you phone buzzing was the man himself. you check the message and it’s a simple “hey” which makes you scoff. you sit up, pausing your show before you respond.

“hey,” you send. then, “did you try my sangria?”

“yeah,” he replies immediately. you watch as the three dots pop up for a moment, and disappear again.

“and?” you prompt, wanting an answer about your concoction before you go in tomorrow.

“i have thoughts,” he texts back. is he always this dry over text?

“what are your thoughts.”

a few seconds go by, but it feels like hours as you watch him type, and type.

“let me tell you in person ? :)”

seonghwa gets to your house in less than 20 minutes, so either he sped all the way here, or he was already on the way when he was texting you. sneaky bastard either way. he knocked quietly, and you opened the door quickly to find him standing there looking delectable as ever despite just working a closing shift. you open your mouth to say something when seonghwa speaks first.

“it needs sugar,” he says quickly, grabbing your face and kissing you after. it’s hungry, but meditated, like he’d been waiting for this. you weren’t the only one with occupied thoughts the past few hours, because seonghwa couldn’t stop thinking about all the things he wanted to do with you. the things he wanted you to do to him. while he’s got you by the mouth, you wrap your arms around his waist and fully pull him into your apartment, his foot catching the door to close it for you. you push him against it, hands itching to touch his skin as his hands settle at your neck. you grab wildly at his shirt, pulling him even closer to you so your breaths are becoming one and your lips stay locked together. seonghwa nips at your bottom lip, and you yelp, the pause letting his tongue explore your mouth. you moan at the taste of him, and he feels his cock stirring in his pants at the sound. with your hands still grabbing his shirt firmly, you tug him toward your couch, hoping you don’t back into anything as you walk. hwa’s hands fall from your neck to your waist, his eyes peeking open to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.

you make it to the couch and pull seonghwa down on top of you, your hands sliding down his chest, memorizing every line and every dip, until your hands stop at his waist, trying to untuck his shirt so you can slip your hands underneath it and run your fingers over his skin. when he feels you make contact, he shudders, and you smile into the kiss, finally pulling back for a minute to catch your breath.

“sensitive?” you ask with a teasing glint in your eye, and seonghwa grinds down into you, earning a shocked moan from you.

“no, you?” he asks mockingly, brushing the hair from your face as he hovers over you. the way he’s looking at you is too sincere for your liking, but you can’t help admiring him in return. you’ve never been this close to him, and you’ve never noticed how deep his dark brown eyes are, or the way his sharp features get more delicate the closer you look. your gaze trails back down to his plump lips, reddened from your prior make out, and you nip at his lips to entice him to kiss you again. he’s easy to convince, because he’s diving in again, kissing you deeper this time. your hands continue exploring his soft skin, but you trail them lower to his belt and work at getting it undone. you don’t bother taking it out, you just undo it and his pants, letting your hand dip down to cup him over his boxers. the touch has seonghwa bucking his hips, his breath fanning over your cheeks as he pants at the contact. you can tell he’s trying to get more friction by moving his hips, but you’re not having that.

“ah ah,” you say, pulling back from the kiss and smirking when seonghwa chases your lips. “if we’re gonna do this you gotta be good for me. keep your hips still.”

“who said i have to listen to you?” he boldly quips, and a firm squeeze to the bulge in his pants has him caving quickly.

“my house, my rules,” you tease, tracing the outline of his cock lightly. “so? can you be good for me, sweet boy?” he eagerly nods, trying not to buck into your hand again as you cup him tighter.

“tell me how you want me,” he says in a voice that’s just barely above a whisper, and if his lips weren’t ghosting over yours as he spoke you might’ve missed it. you smile at him and peck his lips sweetly, removing your hands from him completely to cup his cheeks.

“on my bed? take your shirt off, and i’ll meet you in there.” he kisses you one more time, tongue dipping in to hold you there longer, but a quick pinch to his cheek has him pulling back sadly, sticking his tongue out at you as he untangles himself from your hold. you watch as he wanders toward the hallway, his hand reaching back to pull his shirt over his head. you could write sonnets about the way his back muscles contract as he moves, almost drooling as your eyes follow his every move. “second door on the right,” you call out to him, and then he disappears down the hall.

you want to make him wait a minute, so you take your time getting up and taking your own shirt off, discarding it on the couch before tugging your sleep shorts up high enough to accentuate your ass (since you know seonghwa loves staring at it so much). you walk toward your room, heart racing at what you’re about to do, but a quiet cry pulls you out of your thoughts. you slide to your door, catching yourself on the door frame as you look on in shock at seonghwa palming himself and tweaking one of his nipples. you’d keep enjoying the show, but your dramatic entrance and the gasp you let out at what you found distracts him, and he blushes but smirks anyway, motioning for you to join him.

“you took too long,” he sighs, grabbing your hand to pull you on top of him as soon as you’re close enough. you slot yourself over his crotch, careful not to make direct contact with his cock just yet. you drape your arms over his shoulders, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck while you speak.

“before we keep going,” you start, “can i ask something?”

“am i harder than i’ve ever been right now? yes,” he replies, and you laugh.

“no, but thank you for the insight,” you giggle, the motion grazing you over his lap. he contracts at the contact, and you sit further up into his lap before continuing. “i just wanna be sure, you’re clean right?”

“y/n, i told you, it’s been months,” he deadpans. “and i was plenty clean before that. so yes.”

“ok, well, i was asking, because, um, i don’t think i have any condoms?” you say sheepishly, and the color drains from seonghwa’s face. “so either we just do oral or you can come on my stomach.”

“stomach please,” he says quickly, and you smile at how eager he is.

“yeah?” and he nods again. “lay back for me then.”

“what, already?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“no baby, i’m gonna take it slow,” you say as you lift yourself from his lap so he can lay back on your bed. you crawl down his body, leaving kisses across his chest and down between the soft lines of his abdomen. “you’re really soft.”

“thanks,” he whispers, watching you intently. “new lotion.”

“hm, really?” you ask, kissing along the waistband of his pants. “what kind?”

“i’m not really sure babe, i’ll have to get back to you on that,” he says as he rolls his eyes, and you work on pulling his pants down. he helps you by kicking them off the rest of the way, and he keeps his hips raised, thinking you’ll take his boxers off next. you simply just press his hips back into the mattress and go back to sprinkling kisses across his waist, down his thigh, along the seam of his briefs, ignoring his cock completely as you move to the other side to repeat your motions. seonghwa groans above you, and it stokes your ego to know he’s affected by such meager attention.

“you sure you’re not sensitive?” you ask tauntingly, looking up at seonghwa but leaving your lips hovering over his cock. his eyes fall to yours and he whines at the sight of you so close to him but still separated, and you decide he’s had enough teasing for now.

“if i say yes will you just take these off?” he asks, but you’re already moving to free his cock from his final layer. his cock bobs as hwa lifts himself up to remove his boxers fully, and you feel proud at how red and swollen it is just from a few touches. you softly grasp it, earning a gasp from the beautiful man above you. you spit on it before twisting your hand to work him up a little more, and the whines leaving his pouted lips reminds you of what he said earlier.

“does it feel good, or am i hurting you?” you ask, wanting to make sure this is good for both of you.

“feels so good,” he breathes out, teeth clenched. “but i need to come soon.”

“really? couldn’t tell,” you tease, stroking him a few more times before leaning down to lick his tip. his precum coats your tongue, and you’re addicted to him and the sounds he’s making above you. you suck on the head, pulling back and spitting on your hand before you stroke him again, steadying him in front of you so you can swallow him in one go. when hwa feels his head hit the back of your throat, he cries out, shaking above you beautifully. you’re mesmerized by him, and you can’t help but watch as you bob up and down on his cock, stroking what you can’t fit. you flatten your tongue beneath him as you lick all the way back up, sucking on his tip again to get his attention. in his hazy state he stares down at you, eyes glazed over and mouth open slightly. he watches entranced as you go down on him again, and this time when you feel him at the back of your throat you suck, bobbing up and down messily, and you get to watch as seonghwa comes undone above you. his body jerks as he comes, shooting his load down your throat in spurts, but it’s such a strong orgasm you’re almost afraid he’ll never stop coming. you keep watching him even after he’s done, breathing heavily and sweat dripping from his forehead. you slowly remove yourself from his cock, holding the rest of his release that was sitting on your tongue in your mouth.

“so good to me,” he says breathlessly, watching you crawl back up to sit on his lap again. you give him a kiss, dipping your tongue past his lips so you can push the rest of his come into his mouth, and he moans when he realizes what you’re doing. his hands grip your hips, grinding you down into him, and you’re shocked to feel him hard again. you let hwa keep grinding you into his cock like that, making out with him slowly, until you can’t take it anymore.

“can i ride you?” you ask after detaching yourself from his mouth.

“do you even have to ask?”

“help me get undressed then,” you reply, and seonghwa quickly grabs the elastic of your sports bra and helps you pull it over your head. his hands carefully trail over your chest, taking time to pinch at your nipples which makes you buck into him for once. his hands keep going, tracing down your back to dip into your shorts and squeeze your ass. he pushes your shorts off then, leaving you in your panties, a wet patch almost dripping over his cock. you grind down into him to let him feel how wet you are, and his head falls back as he groans.

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he says, tracing his fingers over your waistband before he dips a finger past the elastic to slowly pull those down too.

“death by pussy?” you joke as you help him take your panties off. “not a bad way to go.”

“yeah now that i think about it that might be a sweet deal,” he smiles. hands going wild trying to find purchase on your thighs, your ass, your waist. seonghwa watches with stars in his eyes as you grab his cock, lining him up at your entrance, and as you try to get him at the right angle he sees your arousal literally drip from you core, and you feel his cock twitch in your hand. “you are so sexy, y/n.”

“not as sexy as-ugh-you,” you grunt, feeling him at your entrance. you brace yourself on his strong shoulders, making eye contact with him before you sink down on his cock. “oh, fuck.”

“shit,” he hisses, feeling you clench around him. “maybe i did die. maybe this is what heaven feels like.”

“what’s it feel like?”

“soft,” he starts off, and then his face contorts as you grind down. “and warm. like you.”

“god, hwa, you feel so good stretching me out,” you tell him. “i’m gonna move now.” he nods, and you take that as enough encouragement to bounce on his lap, setting a fast rhythm to chase your own high. he shifts beneath you, trying to help you find the right angle, and when he moves just right and hits your g-spot you literally collapse on top of him, moaning straight into his ear as he bucks up to keep fucking you right where you need it.

“you good baby?” he whispers in your ear, and you just moan in response, thighs struggling to hold you up because hwa has managed to turn your legs to jelly. you regain some control by bracing yourself on his chest, rubbing your thumbs over his nipples as you try to pick your pace back up. you’re already close, and you clench down on hwa to test the waters, seeing how much more it’ll take before he comes too. “aw fuck, do that again, feels so good y/n.”

“you gotta tell me,” you huff out, squeezing him between your walls, “you gotta tell me when you’re close, remember?”

“i know,” he nods. “not yet though. loving your pussy too much, don’t wanna leave it.” his hands at your waist start to move, one circling around to cup your ass, the other sliding down to find your clit. hwa starts just by tapping it slowly, sending jolt after jolt through your core. your moans turn into high pitched cries, tears pricking at your eyes, and hwa slows to rub your clit with a determination to get you to finish before him. “look at me,” he says, and your eyes meet his. he takes in your fucked out state, bucking up to meet your hips again. you watch him as you crash into your release, almost yelling at how good it feels to have him fuck you through your orgasm. you’re quickly oversensitive though, so you bounce on him a couple more times before pulling off his cock, and the release from your warm walls has him coming as soon as the cold air hits his dick. you watch in awe as he jerks again, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he finishes on himself, come spurting up his stomach and even landing on your thighs still pressed up against his. you keep watching as he comes down, swiping a finger through the come that managed to land on you, and he sucks it clean off his fingers. he’s pulling you in for a kiss before you can do anything else, and then you feel his tongue pressing past your lips to deposit his release into your mouth. you pull back from him, spit and come connecting your lips, but you swallow and show him, a cocky smile growing over his face.

“that was hot,” you say, still trying to breath normally.

“yeah, we need to do that again,” hwa replies.

“again? now?”

“no, not now, unless you want to,” he says with a smirk. “but i was thinking more like another day. when we need it again.”

“that’d be nice,” you agree, and seonghwa slowly pulls you down to lay against his chest. he presses a kiss to the top of your head before he speaks again.

“and i was thinking...if we did this again..we could do it at my place, and do it by my rules. what do you say?”

#seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa smut #seonghwa imagine #seonghwa one shot #park seonghwa imagine #park seonghwa one shot #ateez #ateez fic #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa fic #seonghwa x reader #ateez x reader #ateez imagine #ateez smut #ateez one shot

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reticent-writer · 1 year

Note

Hii :D

Wanted to request Anya x child reader (platonic ofc)

We're reader is a very energetic child and is a scene kid, one day spends the afternoon in Anya's house makes her wear the same stuff too and the two go show Loid how pretty they were (He/him or They/Them pronouns for reader)

Might request a couple more times

-Cloverrs

◡̈⋆ʜᴇʟʟᴏ(●’◡’●)ﾉ I used he/him idk why it's just my default ig. Sorry this took so long I was trying to finish it by Sunday but the world was against me.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

"Papa Anya's home, brought a friend too." Anya exclaimed taking her shoes off and ran into the living room with you following behind her.

"Oh hello, you must be Y/n. Anya has told me about you." He lied. The most Anya had told him was your name, he did a background check on you and your family.

"Hello sir, thank you for having me over." You bowed saying a formal introduction. He expected nothing less from a student at Eden college.

"Thank you for being friends with Anya. Why don't you both go play while I make dinner."

"C'mon Y/n." Anya took you head and dragged you to her room.

Bon shot up and the sudden entrance and got up to greet you.

"Fluffly dog." You giggled as he rubbed against you, you started to pet the big floof and it seemed like he appreciated it.

"What do you wanna play?" You asked as Anya look around her room of toys and things loid gave her.

Her eyes landed on her nail kit and an idea popped into her head.

"Let's play dress up!"

"Okay!"

-------

You both were quite to the point were it made loid nervous so he checked up on you.

"Anya, Y/n. Are you both alright? " he knocked before griping the door nob to open it.

The door only opened halfway before Anya threw herself on it.

"NO. You can't come in, its- we're-" Anya struggled to find the words so like any good friend you helped her.

"It's a surprise"

"Yeah a surprise. We'll show you."

Loid was getting nervous. What kind of surprise could it be for Anya to slam the door like that.

------

"Look papa. I'm bondman." Anya ran into the kitchen were loid was, striking a pose. She was wearing beige trench coat, that was almost to big for here, with a hat to match.

"And I'm bondman's side kick." You wore black trech coat with a match hat. You and Anya were back to back sticking the same clothes.

You nails were painted a brilliant red and Anya's a pretty pink. (It was all over both of your hands along with other colors)

"Woof" bond barked, making his presence known. He once fluffy white coat was now sticky and multiple different colors. He was also wearing a hat.

"How... Nice." Lois was almost too stunned to speak. Not only had Anya made a friend, she managed to find someone just like her.

He's gonna get gray hairs dealing with the both of you.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

#male reader #sxf x reader #sxf x child reader #child reader #x child reader #spy x family x reader #reticent writes #reticent writer

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dreamweaversfavsandthoughs · 6 months

Text

Rick and Morty S7 Ep. 4: That’s Amorte

(There is no ethical consumption under capitalism)

Don’t read any further if you don’t want to spoiler your appetite…

My Favs

We got Morty back!

When the world was about to send out an Amber Alert on a missing kid, Morty decided to return to us! I’ve enjoyed the season so far but having Rick and Morty together is a stark reminder that the strength of this show is found in the dynamic between grandfather and grandson. Also, I love seeing Rick getting healthy and bettering himself, but I also love to see a Rick that’s amoral and a bit unhinged.

Facial animation:

I don’t know if this is due to the Irish animation studio they’re working with now, but I’ve noticed there’s a bit more diversity in the facial expressions compared to the last two or three seasons. Has anyone else noticed this?

They did a Soylent Green!

I predicted that this might have been a red herring seeing the initial clips and they might instead do something akin to the Universal Paperclip game, but a Soylent Green is what we got. Well, the idea behind the paperclip game is still on the table for next season…

Euthanasia, Cannibalism, and Suicide

Quite the trifecta of “subjects we don’t discuss in polite society,” but I admire them for taking the risk and weaving everything together well. Kinda surprised S&P let them get away with it.

“His dying wish is to see deader people so he can feel superior.”

Morty-O’s Suicide Spaghetti

“ Is this people or not people? I just need to know how much I should pretend to be upset.”

Oh, Jerry…

“They dyed their sun institutional gray.”

“Ooo gray areas. My specialty.”

Classic Rick

Kotomi’s cover of “Live Forever”

“Life itself is wrong and that means death is right. But you can’t side with that. So you live, even when it means eating.”

Not My Fav:

They could have gotten nastier.

This is my one small gripe in an episode that I think is fantastic. I’m confident there is an earlier draft out there that got so much grosser before S&P made their cuts and I demand to see that draft!

Release that nasty cut!!!

My Thoughts:

First my less serious thought, how in the hell did Rick find out that those people turned in spaghetti when they unalived themselves? My headcanon is that he has made a regular habit of impersonating a doctor on that planet because he sees doctors as nothing more than glorified mechanics, but for people. Rick knows he’s the smartest man in the universe and a proper scientist so practicing medicine would not be that much of a challenge and along the way he discovered this delicious trait about the Keplar people.

On a more serious note, there are two moments that really stood out to me. First, was when Morty broke the news of the spaghetti’s origin to the family and their reaction. They were angry and disappointed—in Morty for delivering the message rather than Rick for feeding them people-spaghetti. That spaghetti was amazing and brought everyone joy and they were more angry about losing their joy than the moral implications of consuming human flesh. Morty destroyed the illusion that they were “good” people and instead of actually being good people and refusing to eat the spaghetti, Morty created a work-around so that he and the family could still maintain the illusion.

That felt very realistic to how, dare I say, all of us have acted at some point, whether it’s the food we eat or that store that sells the jeans that fit perfectly or the online retailer that delivers anything we could possibly want the next day. Maybe, we find out someday that it’s not created in the most ethical manner and we rationalize it. We think, “ Oh, it’s not that bad.” or “ I can’t afford the more ethical option,” or "I have such few joys in my life I don't want to lose this as well.” It’s easier to uphold the illusion of being morally upright under a system that makes it exceedingly difficult to do so. But even if the capitalistic system is destroyed can we ever really be absolved? This leads to the second moment that stood out, Rick’s monologue.

“Life itself is wrong and that means death is right. But you can’t side with that. So you live, even when it means eating.”

My interpretation is that Rick is saying, “Life, by it’s very nature, is inherently unethical and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Even if the meat you eat comes from an animal that is well taken care of, killed as quickly and painlessly as possibly, and processed in a facility that treats its workers well and obeys all regulations—that animal still had to die in order to produce that meat. You’re a vegan. Plants are still living things and for many plants the process of getting food from them destroys them in the process. Millions of bacteria are destroyed every time you wash your hands. Life needs other kinds of life to end for it to keep going, but humans are the only creatures that are aware of this fact so we create arbitrary categories around which types of life are okay to destroy (categories we can’t all agree on) in order to maintain the illusion of morality.

This episode does not have a feel-good message among the jokes and absurd characters and I appreciate that. This one got my brain a-churnin’ and I’m sure I read way too much into this episode but I couldn’t help myself.

#rick and morty #rick and morty season 7 #rnm #rnm spoilers #rick and morty spoilers #rick sanchez #morty smith #that’s amorte

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dailydegurechaff · 3 months

Note

fav light novel only characters? like not animated or drawn in the manga yet

So this has been in my inbox for a couple months now and I think I can finally confidently answer it bc I have a couple of characters who I wanna talk about.

Spoiler warning: Due to this ask being related to characters only seen in the light novel there’s going to be spoilers under the read more! I talk about content as far ahead as novel 11. I think we’re safe on stuff from 12 tho!

If you want a no-spoiler summary: Colonel Calandro (not depicted here), Counselor Conrad, and Major Joachim

OK SO,

I think the main two that I like the most and are LN-Only so far are Colonel Calandro from Ildoa, who is the observer that ends up attached to the Salamander/Lergen Kampfgruppe on the eastern front and Counselor Conrad, the imperial diplomat that Lergen talks with a lot.

In Calandro’s case, he’s introduced I believe as early as book 6, so I think he’s probably the one of my favorites who is most likely to be in season 2, so I hope Studio Nut does well by him with a good design. In the sketches above, I decided against trying to make a design for him because 1) I got no ideas man and 2) I think (hope) he might show up in the anime soon so I’d like to hold off on drawing him until there’s an official one.

Anyway, a lot of his scenes are great when he’s attached to the Kampfgruppe. If I recall correctly, there’s this scene in one of the books (Book 7?) where he’s talking to Tanya as she’s making preparations to bombard what is obviously a church and he’s like “What are you doing? Isn’t that a war crime?” And Tanya just goes “No, no, it’s fine. They’re not openly displaying anywhere that this is a building used for religious purposes and even if they were, the other side hasn’t signed that treaty so it’s not like we have to adhere to it if they won’t.”

It’s such a funny scene. Tanya’s like, “Oh he’s concerned that we’re committing a crime. I should assuage him by telling him not to worry, we’ve managed to legally justify it.” And instead of any relief he’s just like “Oh my god what the fuck is wrong with them? Why would they ever think to circumvent treaties like this?”

They're funny as hell together and Tanya’s constant griping that she has to babysit him is so good, I hope we get to see it.

Also also a good scene with him is from the end of LN11 where Lergen calls him in the middle of the night, demanding to speak to him because it’s of vital importance. That ensuing conversation where Lergen’s basically like “I can’t say who’s calling, but you recognize me from the sound of my voice, right? Something’s going to happen. I’m really sorry, I can’t say anything more. Please just remember that I called, okay?” I’m so sorry… but it’s giving ‘Tragic Lovers Doomed To Breakup By Circumstances They Can’t Control’ vibes.

It is now my firmly set headcanon that Lergen and Calandro were lovers throughout and in spite of the war and when the time came for Lergen to choose whether to betray Calandro or his country, he chose to betray Calandro, something he feels immensely guilty about. I know it isn’t what Carlo Zen was trying to convey at ALL, but unfortunately that’s what I got from it. Thank you for coming to my TedTalk, moving on.

I guess next up is Counselor Conrad, the Empire’s diplomat who we first meet in LN10 I think? If we don’t get any content of him, I’ll literally cry. Depending on how far season 2 gets us in the story, we may not end up seeing Conrad and that’s so sad to me. There is a scene from LN10 that I absolutely need adapted into the anime. It’s like 160ish pages in. It’s that scene where Tanya, Lergen, and Conrad are talking with each other and Conrad turns to Lergen and gestures at Tanya and says “How did you raise this?” and Tanya’s like “????”

There is another scene where Lergen describes Conrad as handsome, and because of these two scenes, the delusional headcanon has sprung up that these two eventually end up in a relationship and Tanya is their daughter. I’ve mentioned it in another post. A friend of mine actually talks about Conrad (& Lergen and Tanya) in more detail in her post here. And hey, while I’m recommending posts about Conrad, look at all of these too okay?

Conrad actually has an official design in the novel artworks, so I based my above sketch around that. Here are the few canon images we have of him. Interestingly, in the text he's described as having blue eyes at some point, but the colored version we have has them as brown. These drawings come from Books 10 & 11 I believe?

Ok, last one, for minor characters, there’s Major Joachim who we meet around the end of LN11, who becomes Lergen’s subordinate. I think the best way to describe him is that he’s kind of a boyfailure in the way that Grantz is (that is to say before Grantz got some character development and became somewhat competent). He’s a cutie, I do hope we get some scenes of him.

I did actually do a little sketch of Joachim as we saw above. That one for some reason just came to me very easily, unlike Calandro. Here was my prelim sketch idea:

And I think that’s about it for now. If you note that all of these characters are in some way related to Lergen, um… Well, I can’t help myself really. We know by now he’s one of my favorites so I like characters associated with him too.

#ask #bonus doodle #simplelobster #oh no another rimu ramble lmao #conrad #joachim #youjo senki #the saga of tanya the evil

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risingoflights · 1 month

Note

Hmm, you don't feel comfortable talking about it unless someone asks your opinions? Then this is your official ask!

I've never played the critically acclaimed- er, you know. And I have no idea what the Ilsabard Region is or what its story and tone are.

So! What is it, and how does it compare to what you've experienced of Rebirth so far? What do you get from one that's missing in the other? What are the strengths and weaknesses of each narrative, and which do you feel, at this point, will have the most replay value?

(Plus anything else that's crossed your mind!)

ah friend, you should know better than to ask, but thank you for asking <3

leaving xiv out of this for a moment, i can tell you exactly why chapter 7 specifically of rebirth is the one to have caused me to openly gripe.

and, as you might expect, it's to do with hojo.

i was always going to judge the entirety of this game by its handling of hojo, and so far i've been sorely disappointed. standing by what i said in my previous post about nostalgia and fandom goggles, i still believe there was more written into hojo in og than, say, scarlet and heideggar. and since remake did a decent job rounding out president shinra, i was hoping hojo would get similar treatment. so far though, it seems like they've gone the opposite way.

i try not to make too many comparisons to og because many characters are pointedly deviating away from their og characterisations (rufus seems a standout so far), but this point in og was importantly where hojo started shaping up to be more than the trope he began as. it was crucial that as soon as sephiroth reappeared, hojo abandoned shinra. in fact if memory serves, someone (heideggar or rufus?) even points this out in og - hojo's 'disappeared'. then when you see him in costa and cloud asks why he's there, hojo admits 'the same reason as you'. cloud was chasing sephiroth, so was hojo. and he was doing it without shinra because finding sephiroth wasn't on shinra's agenda - at least not at that point.

i was actually so hopeful and happy at the end of remake where the camera pans across the executives lined up in front of rufus, and hojo is decidedly missing - off laughing to himself...! excellent! that defiance seems to have led nowhere in rebirth!

you could argue that in rebirth, hojo decided to continue using shinra resources to go after sephiroth and he's still playing his own long game. doesn't change the fact that rufus was openly out to kill sephiroth now - so what did he tell hojo to make him stay, if hojo had wanted to leave? i mean, you could argue a lot of things to make things make things deeper. and maybe things will get deeper - i'm only halfway through rebirth after all - but rebirth hojo was still on the beach to capture the robes and study them. that single-minded drive and obsession with sephiroth just isn't present. it felt like the icing off the original cake. the bikini girls fawning on him, really fun! him throwing off-handed remarks about recruiting them for his sephiroth breeding program, noooooot... as fun! the whole shinra bigwig come to town, johnny being made to carry his briefcase and push crowds on the beach out of his way? ish! sort of a... dazzling superficial picking of what that scene originally was? did i laugh? yes! was i let down? also yes!

the other thing that really grated on me was the optional aerith dialogue, but that's no surprise - the whole aerith situation has been one big headache for me so far and promises to continue to be so. talk to aerith on the beach and she says a bunch of things about hojo culminating in 'i hate him'. oh. oh, like we really needed this explicitly said? you know, what i really loved about og here is twofold - 1. hojo doesn't appear to even remember aerith's name, which is such a good demonstrating of him not registering her as worthy of ifalna, compared to rebirth where hojo literally yells this at her during battle. this was one of the neat little consistent touches about og hojo - he didn't give a shit, but passively and dismissively - like, it's not so much he deliberately chose to harm others as he just didn't even register harming others as a concept, which made the few people and times he did choose to be sadistic stand out more. and 2. og aerith, instead of... any of the ugly things she could've said to and about hojo, asks him about her lineage and connection to sephiroth instead. how loaded does that make their relationship? that no matter what he did to her and her mother, she still registers him as a source of knowledge and felt pressed to ask him despite the subject being a particular sore point for her?

og aerith probably also hated hojo - i mean, that just makes sense. but the way that scene played out really sets precedent for more questions... what more? what else? which. i guess summarises a lot of the issues i have with rebirth so far. that whole sense of wonder is just not there. the game likes to hand you everything, tell you exactly what to think. this is often done at its detriment, because real complexity simply cannot be spoonfed! BUT - i have to keep reiterating - nostalgia and fandom goggles. they're grafted to my face and i can't take them off.

....so after all that, would you still like to hear about ilsabard? i realise i've just completely failed to answer all your questions but, thank you for allowing me to vent a little!

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rivalsilveryuri · 4 months

Note

wait what is ur favorite gen if it’s not gen 2

OK. so this is the worlds most complicated question 4 me aside from "whats your gender and sexuality" (there are no other questions) like.. UGHHH i literally CANNOT answer this without going on a HUMONGOUS essay not kidding. though if i DO it'll be really rambly.. and. not go anywhere really... (guess what?! point of no return V)

Favourite pokemon gen is a VERY difficult question for me. its easier to say my least favourite gen. Which would be gen 8. because it feels just… boring and forgettable in a way that .. no other gen feels? And is honestly a total mess in my opinion, but.. not in the way gen 9 sorta was? Cause while i definitely have a lot of gripes with gen 9, I do think theres a decent amount of positives and stuff to work with, and stuff that WORKS, and things that really stand out. ..compared to how bland gen 8 felt 2 me. And pointing out which gen im neutral about is fairly easy, aka sinnoh. (might need to really replay it and think it over tbh)

(though theres always one thing that complicates this and its like. the remakes? because sometimes i like a main gen game or hate it, and then i have opposite feelings about the remake, so its like. is the remake…. technically the gen of the origi… ok. whatever, this is a whole complication, i think i'll just go with like. whenever i say favourite gen it just means "favourite region" and remakes can count as well (minus gen 4 sorry ur remake was Like That) to make this easier)

And sayign which gens i Like… But don't tend to feel .. TOO much about ? like kanto… gen 1 has sooo much rep and content that its like.. frlg is fun, (and so is its SECOND remake, good lird) but theres not too much 4 me to chew on .. in . a.. deeper sense? aside from blue, red and leaf, personally. It's not bad! But I don't think anybody's really rearing to say gen 1 is undoubtably the best game mechanics.. visual.. story.. or.. anythin wise. it aint BAD.. but its not really.. much more ta me……

(also i'll specify, mechanics/ gameplay are like.. yes theres type additions, ability changes, oh and the split early on and myah myah and some games have gimmicks and other stuff like mounts, and supposedly bw/bw2 is harder [base game, not hard mode]-

(which. dude did you know. like. this is fucking silly to me but.. upon beating the maingame of black you unlock hard mode. "okay well, whats the issue?" well. upon beating the main game of white. yyou um. get. easymode.) (like im sorry but why the shit would you make DIFFICULTIES VERSION EXCLUSIVES…….. WHO PLAYS THROUGH AN ENTIRE POKEMON GAME.. AND IS LIKE "ah yes wait let me delete my save and do all of that again but like. even easier" W.. WHY… WHY IS… EASY MODE… UNLOCKED… AFTER BEATING THE GAME,, WHY IS HARD MODE A VERSION EXCLUSIVE???? A GENUINELY INTERESTING FEATURE N CHALLENGE?? i know people have probably said this before but its SO baffling to me. what a design choice)

-…but generally the core is the same, and ive never particularly ran into a bump in pokemon games, so it isnt really TOO much of a gripe to me. i love meaningless grinding. i was the worlds most boring little kid, i would start up a pokemon game just to grind to level 40 immediately after getting a starter for FUN. i could watch paint dry for hours i do NOT mind. The only time gameplay comes up is just. How Much is there to do? yknow? how much content.)

but my feelins on kanto are ironic cause i like johto more. sorryyy! i think johtos just more fun 2 me, partly because silver is SOO personal to me, and what they did with kanto was just a more welcome shakeup 2 me tbh. and i like the sort of feeling parts of it give off, and like. yes theres the big hole of like. team rocket being even MORE of a wet fart in that game than b4. likr sure hgss DEFINITELY gave it an overhaul but it still wasnt .. GREAT… since it was the lowest presence an evil team kind of had (until gen 8.) and while yes, they were trying to contact giovanni, and giovanni .. was.. there .. he just got time travel assassinated.. its still kinda.. eh? and being one of the games with a HUUGE identity crisis in the way that gen 2 is forever stuck to gen 1 in a way… gen 1 isnt? but shrug. I don't really mind it. OH and i love silver in crystal. he's so so funny in crystal, whats wrong with him… and i like the legendary beast stuff! i like it, it feels pretty fucking cool.. and eusines funny. pokemon crystal is so fascinatign 2 me i want to pick it apart with my teeth, i love the aesthetic, the music, everythin. (even if the late grind is HORRIBLE) ..but idk if gen 2 is my favourite. We'll.. get back to this later .

SO WHAT IS? Um.

See .. this is kinda where i have 2 now explain a timeline. I KNOW. i know. .. (said through tears) You're just gonna have to sit down with me here because i am so insanely autistic about pokemon. pokemon has been my special interest since i was a tiny pea brained baby. i was literally known purely for pokemon when i was younger because i would NOT shut up about it. (….and here i am writing an unneccesarily long, entire essay. well.) My first game was xy. when i was . uhh .. gosh.. somethin likr… 9? i couldnt finish it because i genuinely couldnt read and got stuck on that furfrou puzzle. i know. its so insanely easy . its unreal. But i gave up. and i didnt have any internet so it stayed that way. for several years. I KNOW. OKAY. leave me alone…

but in the meantime i got oras and. this is when the autism kicked in . severely….. i fucking LOOOVE ORAS . ORAS HEADS LETS GOOO LETS RISE WOOO WOOO IM SOOOOO BIASED. UNREAL-Y BIASED. CRITICAL THINKING DIES HERE WOOOOOHOOOO . and . its a whole thing. i love the way oras looks. its so so so pretty, like. SHOCKINGLY pretty dude. I also really like the weird fusion oras and xy had of like. chibi models, the realistic (? i have no better description 4 this. models used in cutscenes and battles), AND the art. which was definitely unnecessary but i think the eeny weeny models were cute.. Also oras' music. i know its NOT original but i really like the way they remade it. yes the trumpets are almost absent, and some major changes were made to some tracks, which were devisive but honestly? i really like the original soundtrack (because the way rse's soundtrack sounds is really impressive) and the remake is just very lovingly done imo? it just feels nice 2 listen 2…

but . all my.. Current, More Developed Brain Opinions aside. at this point i could read. amazing development. so, i liked lisia. hated brendan. (we had beef.) thought wally was odd but fun, and i REALLY liked zinnia… and of course maxie and archie and their admins too.. and by the way, i liked this game SO much, that i completed the entire pokedex at age 10/11. for fun. so its safe to say i . may like oras. i liked it SO much i then pestered one of my older brothers when he was over to find a tutorial for that segment in xy.. and eventually beat that too. i like gen 6, but i understand a lot of people DONT, and thats understandable. lysandre is SUCH a mess, so are the rivals, but i generally found it charming. though i definitely understand why it was received Very Badly. but xy isnt my favourite.

A few years later, a bit older, when i was then 12.. i played gen 7…. and really liked it. but i dont have too much to SAY about it. (this could honestly be because i didnt replay gen 7 again, having one savefile for my entire playtime. and while i still have an unreal amount of time in usum, i didnt obsessively replay it like i did with oras.) but there's nothing 4 me 2 say that hasnt already been said.. i liked gen 7. completed the dex when i was 12. i liked lillie and gladion and hau, (and i think people either A) dumbed them down way too much, or where excessively critical over hau being. Nice. which….) and team skull.. which is one of my favourite evil teams below magma/aqua, and its definitely one of my favourite gens. but i think… people have said it before but sm had the better story, usum had the better gameplay. usum is JAMMED full of sooo much content its unreal….but i HATE what they did with lusamine. also the ultra recon stuff was kinda … uhh. it was REALLY hyped up in advertising like "oooohhh who are these mysterious people?!?!?" and they just kinda… didnt have a presence??? at all??? like. umm. ok . but i like gen 7. … i like halves of gen 7.

Then . ..gen 8 came out. and uhh. well. I lost a WHOLE lot of faith. cause when it came out almost.. …5 .. years ago .. stars abovr . i got really pissed. cause i HATED IT. i played through it, i wanted to give it a chance, and it was .. fine.. at first. but then i started thinking about it. and thinking about it. and you heard a LOT of things about it at the time. and then i hated it. i hated pokemon . and then i did not touch this game series for the next four years. I heard NEWS about pokemon, but i just kind of grew more spiteful over the years and stuck my head further underground.

#VOICEMAIL #good lird. i am SO sorry for the person i become whenever I talk about pokemon #i never get to ramble about it to this degree . WORDS GET AWAY FROM ME </3 #I HAVE 2 REBLOG 2 ADD PART 2 . HELP ME. SORRY.......

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drylan · 13 hours

Note

Dylan’s a clingy attention whore but oh noo Ryan has to work on an art commission, leaving Dylan without any attention at all. Did someone say cockwarming and teasing?

Dylan, in all his loveliness, is a needy son of a bitch. And normally Ryan adores it. Sure, he might not be the most expressive man himself, but he shows Dylan just how much he appreciates him.

And he wants to appreciate him, more than anything, always. And he's definitely in the mood. Painfully so. How could he not be? It's the summer, they had dinner out in the patio and Dylan's walking around in nothing but the teeniest pastel pink shorts possible and a nearly transparent tank top. To make matters worse, he keeps poking his bare foot over to tease Ryan's legs and thighs, too.

"You know I have work to get done." Ryan said as they finish up washing the dishes together. "They expect me to send the art file tonight."

"I know, I just...y'know. It's been a busy week." Dylan pouts as he places the last plate in the drying rack. "I've missed you. We've been running around and...it's Friday night and I just need you."

"Yeah, but-" The guilt clear in Ryan's voice as he swallowed roughly. He needed Dylan, too.

"It's okay." Dylan laughed. "Jeez, don't look you so sad. You finish your work. I'll finish some chores down here and when you're done-" He starts, running his hand gently over Ryan's chest in reassurance.

"What if you gave me a bit of company while I work?" He decides.

"Oh? I like the sound of that." He steps back, narrowing his eyes at Ryan as he trails his faze up and down. "What do you have in mind, babe?"

"There's a lot of space under my work desk." He takes a step forward, hooking a hand around Dylan's waist and leaning in to tease a tender kiss on his lips. "Just enough room for a pillow for a 6'1 man to sit on..."

"Alright." He flutters his eyelashes in understanding, biting into his bottom lip with obvious excitement. "I'm picking up what you're putting down, Erzahler. Get me a good, fluffy pillow."

Which leads them to now, Dylan's head on Ryan's inner thigh. Ryan doesn't even bother with shorts or underwear. It feels a bit weird to go full Winnie the Pooh in his home office, but the thought doesn't last long.

Not with Dylan's mouth wrapping around him, that devilish tongue, those wet suckling noises. The teasing sensation. Fuck.

Initially when he proposed the idea, he thought it might have been a bad idea. Like he was going to have to push Dylan off or would be too distracted to do anything. And maybe in another place and time that would still be true.

But tonight? Absolutely amazing motivator it is. Especially when Dylan clearly sneaks his hand in those stupidly tight, itty bitty shorts, and starts stroking himself, making whiny little noises that vibrate all the way up Ryan's length and thighs.

"Don't you dare cum without my permission." Ryan demands and Dylan whines. The stroking slows, the wet noises quieter still, but still there. "Good boy." He adds for good measure, which Dylan nearly purrs around him in contentment.

Finally, finally, after about an hour (and two hours earlier than planned), Ryan sends the art file to his client. He's never shut down his computer so quickly. He pulls back a bit.

"Hey-" Dylan protests at the sudden change.

"I'm all done." Ryan reaches his hand down and brushes back those sweaty brown locks. "This chair is really sturdy, you know..."

"Is that so?" He crawls out, making a show of stretching a little, before plopping obnoxiously in Ryan's lap, pressing their lengths together. "Mmm, you're right. So sturdy-"

"Oh, fuck-"

"Later." Dylan promises, leaning in and kissing him deeply, hand working fast, large gripe holding them both together. He's breathless as he continues. "We're both well overdue."

"Yeah. Oh, shit-"

It doesn't take more than a few strokes for both of them to reach completion. Ryan almost protests, thinking about the new mess in his office chair, but then Dylan takes his shorts off and throws them at Ryan's face.

The chair can wait until morning. There's more interest in following Dylan back to their bedroom instead.

#my stuff #fanfic #ficlet #the quarry #drylan #rylan #radioheads #ryan erzahler #dylan lenivy

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bookaddict24-7 · 3 months

Text

REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

EVERY WEEK I WILL POST VARIOUS REVIEWS I’VE WRITTEN SO FAR IN 2024. YOU CAN CHECK OUT MY GOODREADS FOR MORE UP-TO-DATE REVIEWS HERE.

___

24. Throne of Glass by Sarah J. Maas--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Re-read January 2024

I've been wanting to re-read this series for a while because I never finished it. I remember really enjoying this first book in the series because of the competition aspect of it and I'd say I still enjoyed that!

I also see the foreshadowing for the MC's ability to attract all of the men in her life LOL. While I might not have enjoyed it as much as the first time, I still enjoyed it for the most part. There were a lot of things I forgot about and was delighted to be reminded of. The MC is a badass, but her constant "I could kill him with two moves" comments at the beginning had me rolling my eyes a few times.

Even though I know book two will break my heart again, I can't wait to pick it up. Also, SO MANY clues in this one about her identity that I missed the first time around. Definitely one of those books that is worth reading more than once just to catch all of the little pieces of the overall puzzle.

___

25. Mixed Signals by B.K. Borison--⭐️⭐️⭐️

I have a bit of a gripe with this author. While I like a good chunk of the books she writes, the third act breakups are so infuriating. They take away all of those happy feelings that were building up throughout the book because the drama and miscommunication for the third acts are freaking ridiculous.

I was listening to this book last night when it happened--the inevitable "I'm afraid and a coward and let me let you stew in this miscommunication so that it somehow makes sense for me to break up with you because I'm so scared." Listen, as someone who has anxiety and has relegated herself to singledom because I don't want to deal with the messy emotions, I UNDERSTAND. It's freaking scary. BUT. But for the love of god, there are better ways around this. This manufactured and forced drama is so frustrating. I literally wanted to throw the book out the window.

These characters deserve better.

Three stars because I loved them when they were actually functioning like human beings and not drama puppets. Three stars for the small town side characters, who I have loved the whole way through this series (I'd give THEM a higher rating). And three stars for the diversity of a Latine character (even if the Spanish was sometimes questionable.)

Will I read the last book? Of course. I want to read about the other couple, but I KNOW that I'm going to be frustrated as well. Listen, I didn't think I was going to get as annoyed as with the climax of book one (because book two was actually kind of okay with the climax), but oh man. The FRUSTRATION.

Sigh. Moving on. Read this series if you want cute moments and sexy characters, but be prepared for the moments of frustration. This FMC has a lot of things to work through and I think one of the things that frustrates me the most about these third act breakups is that they feel like they come out of nowhere. They're fine in the moment and then boom, "I'm a coward."

___

26. Breathless by Amy McCulloch--⭐️⭐️⭐️

One of the issues I have with adult thrillers is that I sometimes build them up a lot more in my head than the story itself. While BREATHLESS kind of suffers from this, it had its interesting and captivating moments.

I thought the mountain climbing aspect of the book was really cool and I wanted the MC to prove everyone wrong, including her awful ex-boyfriend. Granted I know nothing about mountain climbing, but that aspect of the book is probably one of the main reasons why I kept listening to this audiobook.

The mystery was not predictable but also it kind of was? LOL. It's hard to explain--I didn't actively think it was one person, but when it was all revealed, I thought it made a lot of sense. Like I said, I thought the mountain climbing was the true thrilling aspect of this book.

Overall, this was fun and I loved that ending, but it wasn't something I think I'll be thinking about a month from now. It was good, but *shrug*.

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27. Slewfoot by Brom--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I didn't know what to expect from this beautiful book. I purchased it a couple of years ago because all of my friends were talking about it, so of course I fell to the peer pressure. Just like the beautiful and eerie artwork, the story itself is unsettling and straddles that morally grey line of justified vengeance and anger versus a society's portrayal of evil (ie. a woman refusing to be cowed by a male's authority.)

Reading this gave me this odd sense of satisfaction when everything came to a head--especially thinking about all of the women who were accused of witchcraft and murdered. I especially felt this anger when I think about how many people the MC helped and how those people let their fear and hatred guide their actions against her. I think, beyond the cowardice of a man not accepting defeat, that angered me the most--women turning on each other because of a male dominated society's idealism and "godliness".

Needless to say, I loved this and couldn't put it down. I wanted to know what came next, even though I KNEW it wouldn't be something good. I'm just grateful that Brom knew that I would be looking for those satisfying moments of vengeance.

Also, I'd call this terror in the sense of that overhanging fear of what comes next. But even with the gory bits and the blood lust, I'd say the real terror in this book is humanity and how easily they are swayed. It all leads to me wanting to ask: who is the true devil here?

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28. From Dead to Worse by Charlaine Harris--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I can't believe I've made it this far! Although, I have this feeling I have because the deja vu is hitting me HARD.

FROM DEAD TO WORSE had so much going on, but unlike some of the other books before this one, this one actually took place closer to home. I kind of missed reading about Sookie's misadventures near her home. We got to revisit a lot of her relationships with the men in her life in this one--like the cleanser book for any ends that weren't fully cut clean.

I may have been spoiled for who's endgame, so I am totally seeing how Harris starting laying down the little hints here and there. But even so, knowing this doesn't stop certain moments from feeling bittersweet for me.

More things were revealed and Sookie grew even more as a character. I understood why she made the choices she made because she's finally putting her self-worth above those of the men in her life, but I still DID feel a little bad for her beau in this one. But again, I am on her side because she's been dealt some shitty men cards in the last eight books.

Onto the next one!

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29. The Fake Mate by Lana Ferguson--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

After trying and failing to read Ferguson's THE NANNY, I really wasn't sure what to expect with this vastly different genre of a book. I'm honestly so glad I decided to give this a shot anyway because THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN.

I was hooked onto the story and I loved the different tropes that were used. The whole grumpy/sunshine thing will always be a winner with me, and I am a puddle for this kind of tension. And don't even get me started on the smut. Omg, this man. The dirty talk in this was *chef's kiss*. This man is hot HOT.

I also really liked how the climax of the story was handled, even if one of my least favourite tropes was temporarily employed. I admire a self-sufficient FMC who can slap some sense into the MMC.

I do recommend this book to romance lovers, but I know that the topics explored in this book may be new to some. Research beforehand might be an awkward time LOL.

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30. Just Happy to Be Here by Naomi Kanakia--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I want to preface my review by stating that I am not a member of the Trans community, so my opinions on this book are from an outsider's perspective.

JUST HAPPY TO BE HERE was an intense read, both because of the clear transphobia and because of the MC's youth/naive nature about the people around her. The number of times she was cut off by those around her, or had such clear transphobic comments and actions done against her and she brushed them off was rage-inducing. I think I know why she does this--especially at the end, when it all ties up really nicely together, but in the moment, I felt immense rage towards the people around her.

Kanakia's novel touches on so much happening right now in society and how people twist narratives to fit their agendas and their means. How some people can see one person as an "object" to further their ideologies.

This book just made me feel a lot and made me so angry, but I know I am privileged in my cis-life. My heart broke for the kids who are in these situations and/or are surrounded by people who just refuse to see beyond their own biases and hatred.

I also appreciate the representation of the complex familial relationship between the MC and her parents--it may have been imperfect, but as an adult, I can see the love there for their daughter.

Between the beautiful cover, the emotionally stimulating and thought-provoking story, and the raw reality of a young character trying to figure herself out, I do recommend JUST HAPPY TO BE HERE. I do also recommend that the TWs be heeded: transphobic language, transphobia, internalized racism, transmisogyny. Read with care--but know that this is a pretty important story. Also, Kanakia has a pretty great author's note at the end!

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31. The Probability of Everything by Sarah Everett--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

THE PROBABILITY OF EVERYTHING was so much more than what I was expecting and although my heart feels wounded and my eyes are still feeling that aching pressure after a good cry, I'm so grateful I was able to experience it.

Twelve year old me wishes she had this book to read when my world changed so irrevocably, much like the MC of this book.

This heartbreaking novel follows a young scientist-to-be who likes to deal with probabilities in exchange for the anxiety surrounding her world ending. We are faced with a family grieving the end and how everyone handles it differently.

I don't even know what else to say about this book for fear of spoiling it--but know that it is powerful, important, and heart-rending.

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32. Long Shot by Kennedy Ryan--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Re-read: January 2024

I've been wanting to re-read LONG SHOT for a while, even though it is a very heavy and dark book. I had forgotten just how dark this book gets and while I highly recommend it, I do still super recommend you check out the trigger warnings.

Despite the dark and the abuse, the shining light was the blossoming romance between the two MCs and how, if something is truly destined for you, it'll happen.

LONG SHOT is a book full of emotion, heart, heartbreak, and a bit of magic in the sense that Karma is a bitch and it comes for all. Also, the FMC is one strong woman who did everything she could to protect those she loves. Kennedy touches on the misconceptions that haunt survivors of DA, which I thought was a very important aspect of the book.

Now I want to read the rest of the trilogy, which I never read after the first time I read this one.

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33. Two Twisted Crowns by Rachel Gillig--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I am always wary of sequels--especially when it's for fantasy books I initially really enjoyed. Somehow, Rachel Gillig delivers a sequel that was even better than the first book. TWO TWISTED CROWNS was a delight of a read full of dark moments, high intensity, anger, and a love story I felt more deeply than in book one.

The angst alone between two of the characters I wasn't expecting to see together was better than I could have ever hoped for. This was what made this book even more fun--just me casually waiting for these characters to just cross that line with each other.

Also, I found that TWO TWISTED CROWNS had me reacting more viscerally towards the hateful villains. The way I wanted to smack a bitch in this book because how dare they hurt these precious beings?

And, hi, I wasn't expecting to cry? Imagine that I'm enjoying this darker fantasy novel when all of a sudden, my eyes start to water during an emotional scene.

Let's applaud Gillig for making this a duology (hopefully) and not dragging this in a ten series saga. This whole series was such an incredible piece of fiction. I'm glad I fell into the hype and read these two books.

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34. Holes by Louis Sachar--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Re-read January 2024

I don't even know how many times I read this when I was a kid. Reading it as an adult now was such an interesting experience. For one, the story felt a lot shorter and quicker than I remember it being. I also remembered everything because I'm not kidding when I say that I read this A LOT as a kid.

Being an adult, I can also see how truly sad this story could get--especially one of the historical stories told throughout the book.

Such an amazing classic and truly a gem.

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Have you read any of these books? Would you recommend them?

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Happy reading!

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