sgfgmichaelrry

[sgfgmichaelrry]

Girlhood is a spectrum of two blonds who are both hotheaded, have questionable morals and are both called John

[sgfgmichaelrry]

thinking about johnny's warm hands (pun mostly intended) pressed against your skin, kneading the plush skin of your hips as his lips manage to capture yours in a soft exchange. it's not rushed, not calculated, yet occurring naturally, just as the flow of the tides. perhaps his back is pressed against the couch in your apartment, or maybe the pair of you are tangled, limb in limb, in his bed, but regardless, the course of his affection runs deep. his hands transcend their anchoring grip and travel to cup your cheek, molding his palm against your existence as if to ground himself in the privilege of your love; roots of a tree settled in its earth. the scratch of your nails at the nape of his neck elicits a release of air from the depths of his chest, exhausting a yearning, a longing for your touch, before he smooths the pad of his thumb against your cheekbone, etching the sensation to his memory. you pull away, though you could never be gone too long, and johnny's eyes watch fixated, bewitched by the flutter of your lashes as you peer up at him, doe-eyed, entranced, enamored.

[sgfgmichaelrry]

Yes, the rumors are true: I am working on a Johnny Storm x reader fic in order to avoid my responsibilities. I love that little himbo

[sgfgmichaelrry]

Currently reading Clark Kent x reader fan fiction as I wait in the Taco Bell drive thru. It’s what He (James Gunn) would have wanted

[sgfgmichaelrry]

maybe it is the phone

[sgfgmichaelrry]

Yo I don’t post obvi but I just wanted to say smth about Bob, Thunderbolts, and people writing for Bob. I’ve seen a lot of people complaining about how Bob isn’t a child and such and such. Yet all they are referring to are fanfiction of him being submissive… Be deadass please, if you correlate childlike behavior with SÈXUAL submission you’re a weirdo. God forbid after years of implied drug abuse a man wants to be taken care of.

I’m tired of the complaining seriously, if you don’t like how someone is writing something don’t fucking read it? It’s even weirder for you to go to someone else’s blog, talk shit about another writer, and then move on. Helping would be giving feedback instead of tearing other people down.

Don’t read what you don’t like and grow up.

Anyways Here are some good writers for Sub Bob content: @sgfgmichaelrry @undyingdecay @lewmagoo @swordgrace @mutantg1rl (Not all good writers btw just the ones that come to mind)

[sgfgmichaelrry]

#officially done with classes. please give me bob reynolds requests NEOW

[sgfgmichaelrry]

i have written 5 bob thoughts and produced 4 of them on this website. addiction is a real issue—bob’s was meth and mine is him. please send asks for me to work on after my psych final tomorrow :P

[sgfgmichaelrry]

thinking about how bob’s eyes would widen when he sees you slide down to your knees, his sweatpants and boxers (wet from when he came in his pants earlier) pulled off his ankles with your feverish hands. your hands smooth up the soft expanse of his thighs, and the gentle kisses you press against his thigh have his chest rising and falling with a particular intensity.

your lips curl up into a sly smile as you lay your head against his knee, staring up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes. “is my pretty boy out of breath just from me kissin’ around his cock?”

his eyes squeeze shut as he nods his head hurriedly, his fingers holding desperately on to the mattress comforter.

you let out a cocky chuckle at his blushing cheeks, inching your hands closer to his pulsing length and dripping precum. at the swipe of your thumb across his pretty tip, bob lets out a strangled moan, the sound vibrating from his chest.

“does my pretty boy like it when i tease him like this?”

bob gulps, the desperation in his belly burning hotter with each stroke across his cock. “fuck, yes. please-“ his whines tumble from his lips, and you’re left with no choice but to please the whimpering man before you.

you bring your mouth to his tip, pressing your lips in an array of kisses on the soft skin while bob bucked his hips towards you, relishing in the minute pleasure he’s receiving. your warm hand moves to grip onto his plush thigh, and your tongue begins painting the canvas of his pretty cock.

with each pass of your warm mouth against his cock, bob fought the urge to thread his fingers through your strands until eventually, you took him fully into your mouth. with one hand firm on his leg and the other staking claim on his base, your lips suctioned around his length and bobbed with immense fervor, your hand’s stroke following rapidly behind.

grunts of pleasure escaped from bob’s chest, and the chase towards his high was marked by his insistent whines. “fuck, princess, mmm, you’re too good, mmh. for me.”

your eyes met his, unwavering as his cock bullied in and out of your mouth. your tongue creeped out and traced the vein beneath his cock, and bob could have sworn he could pass out right there.

you popped off of his length with a particular pop, bringing your hand from his base and stroking up to his tip. you pushed off his knees and returned your lips to his, the sweet exchange of infatuation juxtaposing the sinful swipes of your thumb against his leaking tip.

[sgfgmichaelrry]

Satellite - Bob Reynolds x F!Reader

Warnings: fluff, swearing, porn hold the plot, smut — oral f!receiving, love bites, LOTS of kissing/making out, dry humping if you squint

Word count: 2.1K

Author’s note: When I say that I yearn for this man, I mean that I am SALIVATING. Bob Reynolds, I wish you were real 💔

Dim candlelight illuminated your room, and the subtle scent of linen filled your nose as warm hands inched up your torso. Bob sat beneath you, his weight pressing against the plentiful pillows of (his) your bed, with his chest rapidly rising and swollen lips to match. The intimate moment originally called for a soft night of movies and cuddling, but as Bob’s thumb smoothed against your thigh, each swipe exceedingly closer to your cunt, you caught his lips in a messy kiss, and his cocky resolve soon dissipated with a bite on his bottom lip.

“May I…please?” His voice came out in cracks of desperation as he parted from the kiss, his tongue licking his lips as if to memorize the taste of you. His eyes met yours before shooting down to his hands, begging for it with his eyes.

A nodding hum slipped through your mouth as you brought your hunger to his jawline, pressing tender kisses to his skin and feeling his pulse throb. Without hesitation, Bob lifted (his) your top off with a particular fervor, setting the pajamas to the side for later. Your hands crawled into his curls as his hands returned to your waist, acclimatizing to the smoothness of your skin, and it did not take long before your mouth traveled down to his collarbones, nails busying themselves with scratching his scalp. The exposed skin above his collar had not been enough, and you found yourself assuming the same position Bob had moments before.

“Gotta play fair, pretty boy.” You addressed Bob, nodding your head down to the barrier present between you two desperate lovers. You adjusted your hips to rest lower on Bob’s lap to reach his shirt, unconsciously pressing your desperate clit against the layers of clothes, and you recollected yourself with hands on Bob’s hem. “I’ll decorate you real pretty,” your voice purred as you began bunching the material up his torso, “but you’ve already got a beautiful canvas, don’t you?” Regardless of the times his boyish charm has compromised you, the sight of the handsome man before you always rendered you speechless, enamored by the gentle giant whose tender love is yours to keep. The blush creeping across Bob’s cheeks was undeniable, and you felt honored to see the blush cascade across his chest, his shirt fully removed with the suave pass of his arms.

His hips bucked up, yearning for more friction, before his hands sought solace on the curve of your hips. As you began painting Bob’s chest with love bites and messy kisses, his hands guided your hips to return to that euphoric rhythm. Between deep breaths and pressing your tongue against bites, the gravity of the situation settled in your bones, and it became harder to fight off the moans leaving your throat. Bob’s hips moved in tandem with the movement of yours, meeting delightfully in the middle and leaving you both with a delicious relief.

“Fuck, baby,” Bob breathed out, grunts decorating the airiness of his voice. He brought one of his hands to hold you positively against him, pressing against the small of your back, while the other occupied the soft flesh of your breasts. His fingers moved delicately across the expanse of your chest, stimulating your body and soul, and for a brief moment, the only thought occupying your mind was the desire, the craving to feel Bob as you guided him towards a release. You began traveling south, pressing your hands against the mattress to guide you towards the tent in his sweats, yet your journey had been interrupted by the warm grip rapid against your hips.

Your eyes peered up to take in his expression, observing carefully for any signs of discomfort or hesitance. In return, Bob offered you one of his sheepish smiles and soft giggles, bringing one of his hands to cradle your cheek.

“I wanted to try something different.” He gulped tentatively before adjusting your position, guiding you to sit back on his lap. “You’re always taking care of me, and I- uh. I wanted to thank you.”

You shook your head playfully before pressing your hand against his, moving his hold to press a kiss against his palm.

“Honey, you don’t have to worry about tha-”

“No, but I really, really want to.”

A moment of silence settled between you, loving glances sharing words unspoken.

“I didn’t know how to bring it up, but since we’re here.” Bob’s lips curled up into a soft smirk as he shrugged, and you simply couldn’t resist pressing a soft kiss against his lips. The moment settled between you two, and the upturn of his smile continued in your kiss. The two of you pulled apart, chests rising against each other, before you spoke up.

“Okay, pretty boy. You just tell me what to do, and I’ll follow your lead.”

Bob swallowed deeply before nodding his head softly, the cogs within his head turning at full speed as he felt the weight of this moment. His eyes kept fluttering back and forth between your frame and the space on the mattress, calculating his next moves. His fingers eventually met the hem of your shorts, fiddling with the fabric with frantic hands.

“Mind taking these off for me?”

The courage laced in his tone left you as a blushing mess, and you worked quickly to climb off his lap and discard your shorts, adding them to the pile of clothes better handled later.

Your body, now entirely vulnerable and perceptive to Bob’s gaze, sat gently atop his lap, and his warm hands were a stark contrast to the room’s cold air that bit your skin.

“Do you trust me?” Bob’s voice squeaked from his throat before you nodded your head in confirmation, a quiet ‘yes’ meeting his ears.

His hands moved to your hips, gripping you gently as his body moved the two of you down his mattress. Bob moved back against the pillows, and his curls decorated the plush material beneath his spine as he brought you closer.

A nervous giggle left your lips as you took in the situation at hand. “You’re insane, Reynolds!”

“You won’t be calling me that shortly,” a sly smile graced his lips.

Bob’s hands moved to hold the plush of your thighs, his thumbs smoothing circles across your skin, much like he did to elicit this intimate exchange. With your assistance, he moved your knees to rest against the sides of his head, closing him in to the personified fantasy he had conjured up after reading one of his books. Your eyes glanced down, maintaining your stare with Bob as he issued reassurance.

“Just relax. Let me thank you.” His lips pressed against your inner thighs as he waited for your muscles to relax, knowing of the effect this position had on you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, nodding your head as the desperation between your legs pooled. Bob’s palms opened up to hold the swell of your ass, and within a moment, the sweet taste of your cunt was pressed against his tongue. A moan spilled out from deep within your chest, and from the grunts heard beneath your body, Bob was enjoying this as much as you were.

Bob occupied himself with memorizing the curves, the dips within your core, lapping his tongue across your pussy with a certain hunger unfulfilled. His lips found purchase on your clit, and he worked hard to find a balance of flicking and sucking that would have you squirming. Luckily for him, the evidence of his work came in the form of your heavy breaths and grinding hips. Your hands sought to grip the headrest, pleasure consuming the fibers of your being with each pass of his tongue. Bob pressed his hands against your ass, pushing you further on his tongue and ensuring a whine of euphoria from your ruined state.

“So sweet for me.” The vibration of his voice ricocheted onto your cunt, and the pressure against your clit had you folding over and bringing a hand to grip onto his curls. Unnoticed by you, Bob’s hand abandons the hold on your ass and joins the labors of his tongue, sliding gently against the slick of your walls. His lips move to suction against your sensitive bud, and his finger swipes across your wet pussy before pressing inside.

“Fuck!” You whimper out at the added pressure, and your grip only tightens as pleasure tingles throughout your body. Your hips move against his face again, and Bob’s free hand squeezes your hip in warning to behave. He presses you further against him in retribution, adjusting the pressure of his finger even deeper into your cunt. His rhythm against your dripping apex has your thighs shaking, but after licking the evidence of you off his finger, he returns to his task, the wind surely knocked out of your lungs.

In the spur of the moment, Bob plunges two fingers up into your hot cunt, pressing deep within you to find the spot that makes your eyes roll back, and at the confirmation of your hearty whine, he smiles against your clit before his teeth teeter exposure, rubbing deliciously against your weeping bud. The balance between penetration and stimulation has your head spinning and thighs squeezing, and with the immense dedication Bob’s pouring into pleasing you, you’re meeting your climax soon enough.

“Honey, I don’t know if I can hold out much longer.” A few octaves up, your voice rings through the room as your knuckles turn white against your grip, headboard creaking and hair gripped tightly.

“Come for me, baby. Let me show you what you show me.”

Bob’s fingers are pumping into you, his hand wet with the evidence of arousal and desperation, and his mouth looks just the same as his tongue continues circling your puffy clit. His other hand moves to press your lower back further, inching you closer to your release. With each press within your seeping cunt, his fingers approach the spongy spot deep in you, and soon enough, the pressure is unrelenting, spurring you on further.

The combination of desperate flicks and strong thrusts has you coming undone on Bob’s face, thighs shaking rapidly, and vision going white. A chorus of moans escapes your throat, and your head begins to feel fuzzy, entirely captivated by the way Bob has bewitched you, body and soul. You manage to push your hips against his face once, twice more, spreading out the euphoria of your orgasm, before the stimulation becomes too much, and your bottom lip is quivering.

Bob licks his pretty girl clean, consuming her love in every sense of the word. His hands return to hold your hips, helping you to lie down next to him. The rise of your chest begins to settle, and your heart adjusts the pumping rate down. Bob brushes the hair out of your face, the strands sticking to the sweat on your hairline, before bringing you into his chest, holding you gently as opposed to the strokes of hunger earlier.

With a soft kiss pressed against your forehead, your cheek, and your lips, Bob slips out the bed to clean you properly, and he would be lying if he said aftercare wasn’t his favorite part of these sweet exchanges. He returns from the attached bathroom with a warm towel and brings the damp cloth between your legs, each swipe moving gingerly against the sensitive flesh with a soft kiss to follow. He folds the towel around and brings it back to the bathroom, throwing it in the hamper, before joining his beloved on the bed.

“Maybe you aren’t insane,” the scratch in your voice a testament to the wear of the evening, yet a smile creeps onto your lips as the aftermath of your orgasm escapes your bones. Bob’s soft giggle fills your ears, and you relish in the warmth of his broad chest, head resting carefully above his heart.

The song of his heartbeat smooths you into a sense of peace, and as Bob’s hand runs against your back, it does not take long before a string of soft snores slips through your lips. An amused smile graces his lips, and he presses a subtle kiss against your forehead.

“I love you too, my pretty girl.”

[sgfgmichaelrry]

okay i’m turning this into a one shot, give me an hour and let me wash off my face mask. MAMA I WONT HIM

“bob reynolds would love receiving head!” “bob reynolds would love to be ridden!”

WRONG. bob reynolds would LOVE (and pass away) for someone to sit on his face.

source: my brain.

[sgfgmichaelrry]

“bob reynolds would love receiving head!” “bob reynolds would love to be ridden!”

WRONG. bob reynolds would LOVE (and pass away) for someone to sit on his face.

source: my brain.

[sgfgmichaelrry]

joaquín torres drabble because i believe in productive procrastination! also kinda implied latina!reader, but still suitable for anyone to read :P

the drops of rain hitting the window paired perfectly with the subtle sound of luis miguel streaming through your speaker, and as you sat atop the kitchen island, you could be convinced that the concept of perfect existed here, nestled in your hub of peace. joaquín moves from where he stood between your legs, the warmth of his fingertips lingering on your thighs as he takes a glance at the oven. he returns to you, reassuming his position as his hands wrap around your hips and a smile graces his lips.

“the cookies have a few more minutes. baila conmigo?” his head tilts in a way akin to a puppy, and his playful pout leaves you smitten, blushing at his offer to dance.

“i don’t know,” you say as you jump off the counter, an all-knowing grin creeping into your face. “will you step on my toes again?” your nose crinkles as you tease him, and your hand slots against his own, familiar with the soft skin. his other hand rests against the curve of your waist, and his thumb smooths over the soft skin of your tummy.

“lo siento, mi amor, it was only an accident!” joaquín’s dimples crater his cheeks as he laughs in unison with you, the sound filling the kitchen with a symphony of love. “at least i’m not sam! his dancing would make your abuela cringe.” you rest your head against his chest, and the cadence of his laughter rumbles his clavicle, and you’re left giggling at his joke.

you roll your eyes playfully before joaquín spins you around, his hand sooner returning to grip your waist. “as if yours doesn’t make her cringe,” you attempt to say seriously, but the playful grin upturning the corner of your mouth doesn’t help your case. in feign offense, he gasps dramatically, eyes drawn wide in fake shock, yet he doesn’t inch to let go of your hand.

“no me digas-“

the corners of your mouth curl up into a sly smile, and it only took a fleeting glance at joaquín’s dramatic face for you to burst into a fit of giggles. your head shakes into his chest as you recollect yourself, and when you resurface, your eyes hold joaquín’s gaze, captivating him and eliciting a blush to crawl through his cheeks. time was a relative concept, anyway, but it especially didn’t matter when the butterflies joaquín felt fluttered into his belly the first time he met you and have yet to take off.

“i’m just kidding,” you draw out the g, your lips still upturned. “but she does miss us. probably misses you more than me.“ joaquín shrugs his shoulders playfully, still holding onto your waist as both of your feet continue to move to the rhythm. “estas libre el fin de semana que entra? we can go visit her, and she’ll be happy to hear about america’s new falcon.” you wink at your lover as he shakes his head playfully.

within the kick of the drums and the strum of the guitar humming through the kitchen, joaquín slides his hands down your lower back to pull you closer into him, and you bring your hands behind his neck, getting a better view of the small details of his face: the traces of stubble, moles and freckles scattered across his skin, and his rich, brown eyes that held so much love within them. you rest your head in the gap between his neck, and you press your lips gently into his skin, closing your eyes and embracing the serene moment of intimacy, of admiration.

perhaps your abuela was right; joaquín was a keeper. his heart of gold had you swooning, but it certainly had won her over too. as the steady rhythm of two hearts in love beat in tandem, you only hoped that you would visit abuela soon, sporting a new ring and a promise of forever.

[sgfgmichaelrry]

no thoughts, only soft bob reynolds after a long day.

the way he would curl into your side, his nose pressing gently against the spot in your neck that seemed to capture your perfume so well, even after a full day. his arm tugged gently around your waist, pressing himself into the warmth of your love. his eyelashes fluttering shut, brushing against your jawline as you run your fingers through his hair. his breath evening out as you move your hand down to cup his cheek gently, brushing your thumb over the curve of his cheekbone. his gentle hums of contentment ringing melodies in your ears, because as long as he was at peace, your mind could steady. his lips pressing gentle kisses into your skin as he drifts into dreams of you, his subconscious just as enamored by you.

[sgfgmichaelrry]

I love you PBS I love you NPR I love you public libraries I love you wikipedia I love you project gutenberg I love you librivox I love you libby I love you hoopla I love you openlibrary I love you internet archive I love you resources that make information free and accessible to the public

[sgfgmichaelrry]

just got my ashes. feeling like matt murdock right now. i hope he had a good ash wednesday (after episode one of ddba, i KNOW he didn’t, but alas)

[sgfgmichaelrry]

i start writing for joaquin torres and then what? he consumes my every thought? how sickening (please visit me in my dreams)