#His longing for home is a core part of him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fall0utmind · 3 days ago

Text

Ruined

Hi, so this isn't my normal fic at all. It was a real effort of labour and love. I would really appreciate you reading it and letting me know what you think. I actually really love it so I hope you do too !!!!!! I know Tony/Fabio isn't the most popular pairing but I really hope you enjoy xx

AO3 HERE

RPF summer camp - 'sunburn'

It was Fabio's fault, really.

He was the one who told Mig that it was fine to include in the podcast.

Fabio had laughed, high and false in his throat, when the older man had asked if he should cut it out, eyes sympathetic. The sensible thing would have been to politely agree and request that any mention of Tony be eradicated from the final cut, but Fabio had never been sensible.

The fans would like it, if nothing else. They always liked the rider interactions. Better if it was something they weren't privy to: the secret interactions in the paddock, hidden behind corners and inside motorhomes. God knew that there were enough of them. Fabio knew that some of them would rock the motorbiking world and hence would never see the light of day.

(Well, not if Marc had his way.)

Mig was kind enough not to push or pry into it anymore, not so subtly changing the subject. But he had done enough by alluding to the nature of their relationship and the privacy it required.

Well, not that there was an actual relationship to keep private.

Fabio sort of wanted to make a childish comment about Franky in retaliation, calling attention to the way Mig stared at him like a forlorn puppy, if only to level the playing field. Instead, he shrugged it off, pretended for a second that this was normal, that he was fine. That Tony didn't mean the world to him, more than a friend ever should, or that Mig's questions had opened a sinking chasm of realisation inside his chest. He pointedly ignored Mig's concerned look and shoved any thoughts of his friend to the back of his mind, leaving before he could be interrogated further. He hugged Mig on the way out, tried not to think about the way he clung on a fraction too long.

He had never quite grasped how undeniably gone he was for his best mate until that moment, warm to the core as he talked about their friendship. Nor was he ready to admit that to himself by giving in to Mig's kindness. Fabio knew that Tony wouldn't mention it. They had been skirting around Fabio's weird affection for years, like biting around the soft, brown bit of an apple, letting the rotten parts decay some more, hoping one day it wouldn't exist at all. Fabio could play it off as a joke, he thought, in the same way he brushed aside all the girlfriend questions, pretending that a relationship was a waste of his time.

If anyone looked closely, if they knew Fabio, they would see that Tony wasn't a joke to him. Most had seemingly worked it out before Fabio. In hindsight, it wasn't like he had hidden his affection, his obsession with the younger man. Surely Tony understood. Fabio watched every one of Tony's races, standing on the other side of the pit wall to cheer him on, unashamed of the constant buzz and the cameras trained on him. He constantly wanted to be around the Italian, sought out his affection like a sunflower chased the sun even as it dipped below the horizon. Fabio didn't do that for anyone else.

It had just taken him years to understand that the affection he felt wasn't just the strong ties of friendship which bound them together. If Fabio was the last to catch on, that meant that Tony knew.

The problem wasn't really on Fabio's end, then.

(Or maybe it was, he was the one who had gone and developed a crush after all.)

He didn't even know where Mig had gotten half of his gossip, however true it was. Of course, Andrea was always in the paddock with the VR46 team, and anyone with eyes could see the closeness between Fabio and Tony. But this hit a little too close to home for his liking. It was like someone had come along and scooped out his soft middle, leaving his aching heart unprotected, almost handing the knife to Tony.

How Uccio had seen him at Tony's door was another mystery. He didn't think anyone had been around whilst he was skulking around the paddock, late enough that even the media had headed home. The picture was burned into his memory, but he had no recollection of when or where it was, just that it had been another bad practice, and Fabio, seeking comfort, had gone to Tony's door, following the warm light seeping out from inside.

He had been brave, for once, calling upon his friend rather than shutting himself away to sulk. Fabio had convinced himself to go to where he knew the younger man was, feeling turbulent, something tight squeezing in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He made it all the way to the door, only to hear the unmistakable sound of Tony's voice, soft and flirty as he spoke; the answering laugh was high-pitched, distinctly feminine. Presumably, he had company, flavour of the month, Fabio scoffed. He squeezed his eyes shut against the onslaught of pain, the feelings of inadequacy, fist still raised as if to knock. He left without entering, afraid to be a nuisance, his heart spasming. Fabio didn't think about it again; he cried himself to sleep in the darkness of his own empty motorhome instead.

He felt a little bit like he'd been drowning in denial until approximately three days ago, when the podcast had aired, and he watched just how fond his face was when talking about Tony. It was one thing for his friends to know, another to sit in the puddle of his own ignorance, something else entirely for his dirty laundry to be aired so publicly.

(And yet he had agreed.)

It was a cruel, last-minute wish to have more time, to explore this feeling, to acquaint himself with it before he had to package it up into a neat little box and shove it into the depths of his mind. The sudden switch up from believing he just adored his friend in all the normal ways to realising they had skipped past platonic long ago.

Tom, in typical fashion, sent him the little clips that Mig had posted on social media. The question marks accompanying the reel were damning, as was the incoming call, which Fabio promptly declined, ignoring several further messages from both Tom and Mathilde until he finally gave up and turned off his phone.

The evening was spent with Fabio in tears, wrapped in his softest hoodie, panicking because he had somehow missed the fact that he was in love with his best friend. He knew that he loved Tony, but he didn't realise that he was in love with Tony. How he had managed to miss that one was a mystery to all. His stomach churned with bitter fear, which clawed up the back of his throat, burning like acid. He sobbed until his head was pounding and unconsciousness took hold, still slumped on the sofa, an empty bottle of wine on the coffee table, diet be damned.

The next day, he tried to outrun it, 21km until his legs felt jelly and he bent over the nearest rubbish bin to hurl his guts out. Unpleasant, yet somehow more tolerable than the damning weight of his feelings. Fabio stood in the shower for an undetermined amount of time after, his brain wading through years' worth of repressed emotions, trying to find something akin to authenticity to cling on to. He felt miserable. Thoughts swirled through his mind like water whirlpooling down the drain. He watched the glass cloud with steam, breathed in the air, and held his breath. He counted the droplets trickling down the walls, exhaled when he reached ten, gasping through the burn of his lungs, which matched the crack in his heart. Water fell from his hair, down his cheeks, obscuring the tears which were consistent now, streaming down his face, washed away by the shower.

Fabio didn't know what he was meant to do.

He towelled off after, once the water began to run cold. He redressed into something comfortable, forgoing food since unlikely he to keep anything down. His phone chimed from the kitchen counter, hastily turned back on before his run. He ignored it, letting the ring tone become background noise.

Fabio sometimes hated his former self, the one who made plans whilst he was feeling extroverted. His friends and he had booked a weekend off ages ago, with the idea of going somewhere hot and sunny, with a boat, good food and alcohol. It was meant to be a relaxing mini break, some time to just be themselves. But now Fabio was stuck between a rock and a hard place - everyone would be able to read between the lines, know that Fabio was completely and utterly head over heels for Tony, who would also be there.

In summary, he was entirely fucked.

There was a knock on his door, just after his workout, before he could even get out of his sweaty clothes. Fabio sighed, wishing that he could just have a morning off to mope, but alas. He opened it, revealing Tom on the other side, his face stern. It turned out that there was no escaping this. Sometimes, he really wished that Tom were less efficient.

When they finally met up with the others, Fabio tried everything in his power to act normally, pulling Tony into a bro hug and ignoring the pounding of his pulse. It was easier with the others there, less chance for Fabio to overthink everything he did, so long as he ignored their unsubtle glances. The journey was fine, with most people's attention fixated on either navigation or planning, Fabio managed to zone out and listen to music the entire way there. They had booked out a villa, which was both a blessing and a curse. It meant sharing space with the boys for longer, but also saved the hassle of hotels and Cannes had nice places on Fabio's budget. He disappeared straight to his room when they arrived, feigning tiredness despite the restlessness in his entire body, skipping dinner altogether.

They left early enough the next morning to forgo talking. It wasn't until they settled onto the boat and left the harbour, towels already spread on the deck and jet ski in tow, that Fabio had to consciously worry. He stuck close to Tom, soaking in the sun and lazily keeping track of the threads of conversation, effectively avoiding Tony. It was all going okay, really, until Tony decided to take his shirt off. Suddenly, Fabio was powerless, unable to look away from the miles of tanned skin and muscles it had revealed. His arms were thick, corded with more muscle than Fabio remembered, strong biceps and smooth pecs swelling in all the right ways. In a twisted turn of events, Fabio was delirious with sudden desire, a heat building in his stomach, thoughts of being under Tony, those arms wrapped around him, chest to chest, filling his mind. He licked his lips, tore his gaze away, disgusted with himself. He tried not to make it too transparent, the way he flicked his eyes over every so often, evaluating whether it was him or Tony who had changed. Surely, his body didn't just decide overnight that he was sexually attracted to the younger man. Sure, Fabio always thought that he was attractive, but he wondered whether he had always been so obviously fixated on Tony.

He really should have stayed at home, told everyone that he was too sick to come.

(Tom probably would have dragged him out of the house himself.)

"-Fabio"

He jerked forward, eyes drawn back to the conversation, smiling sheepishly as a blush spread over his cheeks. He had lost the train of dialogue the minute a certain someone had decided to strip. His friends laughed at him, assuming it was just Fabio being himself, ADHD tendencies and all that. He shrugged, as if to say, 'What did you expect?', his smile self-deprecating. Only Tom continued to stare when the discussion moved on, shooting him an inscrutable look - clearly Fabio wasn't fooling him. Tom had always known him too well.

Now there were two people Fabio had to avoid, with both Tony and Tom being dangerous territory, although for vastly different reasons. He couldn't be alone with Tony, lest he a) did something incredibly stupid or b) was asked a question which he couldn't answer and ended up in an incredibly awkward position. Tom was almost certainly going to lecture him about his love life, which Fabio also wasn't too keen on.

God truly was unfair sometimes. Putting him in a one-sided love affair with a sport that hated him, made him fall for one of his best friends, and made another best friend the biggest worrier of all time.

Typical.

A stroke of luck meant that Fabio made it a whole two hours before Tom cornered him. Those hours were full of blissful peace and laughter, over too soon. He was lying on a deck chair, eyes shut, soaking up the sun and trying desperately hard not to think. He didn't see the others move across the boat, leaving him alone, perfect for ambushing.

There was a weight on the side of the sun bed. Fabio blinked his eyes open only to squeeze them shut again when he realised it was Tom who was looking down at him expectantly, his gaze burning.

"Fabio", he began.

"No, go away. I'm tired." Fabio whined.

"You gonna tell me what the fuck is going on with Tony?"

"No."

"Oh, so there is something", Tom badgered, clearly not content with Fabio's want for privacy.

"...no"

"Is this about that podcast?"

Tom raised his eyebrows. Fabio glared.

"No."

"Is there anything else you can say?" Tom asked, long-suffering.

Fabio smirked. Well, Tom just walked into that one.

"Yes", he mocked.

Tom groaned.

"When did you realise?"

"Realise what?" Fabio questioned.

"That you were in love with him, you idiot"

Fabio stopped, stared, squinting at Tim's serious face, the sun haloing around him. Okay, so not joking. Great, did everyone know?

Fabio chucked, humourless.

"Eh, probably the podcast. Around." He answered.

"Jesus fuck Fabio, only then?"

"Ey, shut up. I thought it was a weird crush, a very deep friendship, no?"

"Yeah, but we have a very deep friendship, and you've never felt like this for me!" Tom snapped, tone somewhere between disbelief and annoyance.

Fabio coughed awkwardly and looked away. He could feel his cheeks heat as the silence stretched on.

"Oh my god. Merde. Fabio..."

"Nope, we are not talking about it. Please, Tom", Fabio begged, beyond mortified. This was humiliating enough already, just considering the whole Tony thing.

"You know he likes you, too, right? You two are idiots. It's so stupid." Tom bemoaned.

"He clearly doesn't, or he would have said something."

Tom sighed.

"Maybe he's waiting for you to make a move."

"He keeps dating random girls, so I don't think so. It's not my fault that he isn't interested. Why don't you talk to him instead?"

"Fabio. Bro, come on. You are so not serious about this. You go on that show and spend so long talking about Tony that they have to give it its own titled section, and you still won't do anything. This is ridiculous," he grumbled.

Fabio looked away. Flushed

"What do you want me to say. I didn't know," he whispered, inaudible. He didn't want to talk about this anymore.

"Chéri, stop mumbling." Tom requested, the sweet pet name slipping out, an age-old habit. It did nothing to temper the upset bubbling within Fabio.

"I didn't fucking know okay? I thought it was some kind of weird attraction or jealousy. Maybe a little crush. I didn't realise it was love until after. I mean, I didn't even realise how obvious I've been. Not until it was spelt out for me. On record, I may add. And now everything is fucked and I don't know how to act and everyone knows. And I'm panicking. Fuck, what am I meant to do"

The air deserted his lungs, his breath catching on the way out, making an awful squeaking whimper in the back of his throat as he shuddered through an inhale. He felt like he was burning up from the inside, the walls crushing inwards as he tried to gasp for oxygen for his lungs, which felt like they were collapsing. His vision fogged, blurred, whether by tears or because he felt like he was dying, he didn't know. The overwhelming feeling of dread sat like stone in his stomach, rising anxiety clawing at him.

"Okay. Okay. Fabio, it's okay. Take some deep breaths for me, ok?" Tom soothed, an edge of panic cracking his syllables.

Fabio went through the motions, coached by Tom, tears prickling the corners of his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise. We can work this out, yes. Just treat him as normal. It hasn't actually changed. You've just realised. We all love you the same, ok?"

Fabio nodded, finally able to gasp through a breath, and another. He stared up at Tom with wide eyes, accepted the bottle of water handed to him.

"You coming to grab some food, the others will be out soon?"

Fabio hummed, his stomach churning. He looked away, guilty.

"Maybe in a bit", he said.

Tom smiled gently, patting his cheek, allowing Fabio to lean into it. There was evident concern in his eyes; Fabio overlooked it.

"You need to eat, yes? Promise me?" Tom implored.

"Okay"

Tom smiled, stood up. As he turned to walk away, he looked back at Fabio and called out.

"Make sure to top up your sunscreen or you'll burn."

Fabio hummed; Tom always had been the mum friend, which was why he made a good manager, as annoying as it could be. But he was right, the boys re-emerged a few minutes later with plates of food and beers, and Fabio's stomach rumbled. He closed his eyes, rolled onto his front and considered taking a nap. The warning went unheeded.

His eyelids were beginning to droop when the deck chair unexpectedly shifted again. Someone is sitting down. A finger prodded his cheek, once, twice. He tried to ignore them, but they were persistent, annoyingly so.

"Fuck off, Tom"

A huff. Fabio peeled his eyes open to glare, only to find himself face to face with Tony, not Tom. His heart somersaulted in his chest, and the heat of the sun seemed to ricochet up.

"Fabiooooo", Tony sang, clearly a few beers in.

Great.

Despite himself, Fabio smiled, amused by his friend's antics, his pulse beating double time.

"Can you help me with my sunscreen, please?"

Fabio gulped, glanced between the bottle Tony had produced and the younger man, trying not to fixate on the sculpted abs, his sculpted pectorals, or the 'v' of his stomach with the trail of hair which led into his shorts.

"Why can't you do it yourself?" he asked, just this side of whiny.

Tony stared at him like he'd said something odd, perhaps he had, Fabio thought. It was making him feel weird, shifted slightly.

"Eh, I cannot reach my back"

Fabio considered his options. He couldn't say no without making it weird, and couldn't really say yes without going through hell and potentially still making it weird in the process.

It wasn't like he had much choice.

He sighed theatrically and gestured at Tony to turn around. At least he didn't have to look at his pretty face whilst doing it.

He squirted a dollop of sun cream on his hands, placed it carefully onto the warm, smooth skin of Tony's back, trying not to stare, for his hands to linger.

Fabio bit his lip and began to spread the scream evenly across the younger man's back. He focused on making sure to get all the areas which were usually missed, rather than thinking about who was underneath his hands. Tony's muscles shifted under his fingers, and Fabio traced the ridges of them, eyes glued to the way the rippled, pure, compact power.

He dug his fingers into the deep muscle of Tony's shoulder, accidentally putting more pressure through each digit than he meant to. It made Tony shift, whisper-quiet noises falling from his mouth, a bitten-off moan when Fabio grazed the planes between his shoulder and neck.

"Fuck, you're good at that eh?" He said, looking over his shoulder.

Fabio's cheeks flamed red as he shifted his shorts ever so slightly, trying to ignore his growing interest in the situation. Tony leaned back into his hands.

When his shoulders were completely covered, Fabio reapplied the cream, trailed his hands down his back and sides, trying not to linger, torn between two minds, he wanted to draw it out, but the quicker it was over, the better.

He swiped a hand lower, over Tony's lower back dimples, mouth watering we he pressed a thumb into the divot. Tony exhaled loudly. There was an elastic pull of tension between them, now crackling in the air, a second before lightning strikes. Fabio gulped, gave in to temptation, let his hands stray to the waistband of Tony's shorts, briefly dipping under, running across the hot skin there.

Tony stiffened, stuttered a breath. Fabio withdrew his hands quickly, squeezed his eyes shut.

"Okay, you're done", he said, voice hoarse, too low.

Tony cleared his throat, painfully awkward. It was like a moment had been broken, the tension snapping. Fabio's pulse was pounding against his temples, his hands frozen.

"Thank you. Let me get yours, yes?" Tony asked, eyes turning back to Fabio, something in his voice. Tom's words echoed in his head, 'He likes you too'

Fabio halted, considering. He could test the theory, let Tony touch him, revel in the feeling of strong hands on his body. He could let his head fall back, groan quietly when Tony palmed his neck, always so sensitive. But the risk was too great.

"No, no, I'm okay." He muttered, pulling away from Tony's body heat, the sweat forming small streams down the side of his neck. He looked away.

"Eh, Tom said you needed a top up", Tony argued, eyes wide.

"Yes, well. Tom is lying and he is not my mother", Fabio snapped..

Tony held both hands up in surrender, shooting Fabio an odd look, confused, bordering on hurt, before he finally retreated.

Fabio closed his eyes, exhaled, already regretting his anger. He just needed a second to get over it, to enjoy the last few moments of peace before he knew the boys would harass him into food, jet skiing, and generally being childish. He tried to soothe over the hurt, the aching wound of his heart, too raw and vulnerable, and prayed he could get it together in less than five minutes.

For a moment, he allowed himself to remember the feeling of Tony's firm muscles under his hands, his lingering warmth. The sounds he made were burned into Fabio's brain - a small allowance, one he would probably regret. He desperately tried to ignore the feelings which accompanied the pure desire in his belly, swallowed them down until he felt sick to the stomach. Fabio sighed, practiced a false smile before he stood up, readying himself to join the others, stupid heartache be damned.

By the end of the day, he had consumed enough beers to briefly forget the muddle of feelings inside him. Drunk enough to shrug off the veil of embarrassment and spend the day bent in two. Laughing so hard his stomach cramped. He ignored the worried looks from Tom, the curious glances from Tony, and tried to enjoy the time he had before he felt like his world was collapsing again.

It turned out that forgoing sun cream was a mistake. One which became more evident when he stripped off in the bathroom to shower, only to hiss through his teeth at the soreness of his back, red and sensitive under the spray of water. Fabio wrenched the temperature control down to cold, forcing himself under until he was shivering.

He winced at every rub of the towel against his skin, skin oversensitive and hot. There was a knock on his door as Fabio pulled on his boxers. Fabio shifted, hissed at the discomfort from his pulling skin, two sizes too small.

He debated for a second. It would be Tom, no doubt. He didn't really want to talk, but Tom was the most persistent bastard he knew. It had been kind of awkward over dinner, and he really just wanted to go to bed. He knew they would have to discuss this at some point.

"It's open", he called, expectantly trudging over to his bed, flopping down on his stomach, not turning to greet Tom as the door squeaked on its hinges. Fabio had claimed the room furthest away from the others on purpose, more privacy, less chance of people disturbing his moping.

Tom walked in, inhaled sharply. Fabio glanced over his shoulder. Oh, he thought. Not Tom. Tony.

He suddenly became very conscious of the fact that he was clad only in his underwear.

"That's some burn you've got there", he said, approaching slowly, cautious as if Fabio was a wild animal. He moved so he was sitting, watching Tony come closer, a bottle of something clutched in his hands. Fabio hummed in agreement, eyes flicking over Tony's face, his body, unsure where to settle.

"Did you put sun cream on?" Tony asked. Fabio shifted, guilty.

"No"

"You fucking idiot. What's gotten into you? You've been weird all day, this whole trip actually."

There was frustration in his voice, a frown on his face.

"Nothing," Fabio replied, tearing his gaze away.

"Don't lie to me", Tony said. When he was less than a foot away, he knelt in front of Fabio, tapped his cheek. Fabio ignored it, looking down, so Tony grabbed his chin, tilted it up so they could make eye contact. Fabio averted his eyes, tried to escape the grasp. Tony sighed, releasing his chin.

Fabio fell backwards against the bed as he scrambled away, trying to put some distance between them so he could breathe. He bit his lips and winced, hard, as the sheet scratched his back.

He received a raised brow for his efforts, bafflement etched onto the younger man's feature features. Fabio held eye contact for a beat, shifting his legs restlessly. Tony observed him quietly, a steely resolve settled in his eyes, something which rang alarm bells for Fabio. Tony huffed a laugh, clearly something showed on his face. He tapped Fabio's calf.

"Come in, on your front. I have some aloe, it'll help. The burn isn't too bad... well, it won't need any more treatment than this. You are lucky. And if it still hurts, I will kiss it better." Tony said.

To Fabio's mortification, he rolled straight over at the command, barely parsing Tony's words until after, a red flush forming on his cheeks at his friend's joke. It felt almost cruel, all things considered, although Tony didn't know.

"Good", Tony muttered. Fabio barely had time to consider that, the way Tony's voice was husky, and the praise made his heart thump, before there were firm hands on his back. The coolness of aloe vera spread across his shoulders was in direct contrast to the warmth of Tony's hands, the trail of heat he left behind. Fabio snapped his eyes shut at the onslaught of sensations, bit down a whimper.

Tony was careful, meticulous. He slathered on layers of gel, digging his fingers in just right, but always gentle, oh so gentle so as to not hurt Fabio. He was putty in Tony's hands, melting into the mattress with the touch, unable to prevent the way his mind fogged.

He let out a soft moan as Tony ran a hand up the back of his neck, the other on his lower back. Fabio shoved his face into the pillows, felt the way it glowed pink in embarrassment. Even so, he let Tony keep going, kept his eyes closed and tried desperately hard not to shift his hips into the mattress. Fabio lost track of time, only roused at the loss of warm hands on his body. He whined, delirious, and clamped his mouth shut again, mortified.

Tony placed a delicate kiss on his spine, another on his shoulder. Fabio shivered, his brain stuttering to a halt.

"There we go, all better," Tony murmured, his voice gravelly.

"You did so well for me."

Fabio muffled his answering gasp into the pillow, his hips twitching of their own accord.

"Fuck"

Tony moved before Fabio could think, and then strong hands were flipping him over, careful with his back, and pulling him into a sitting position. The younger man crowded against him, almost in his lap, knees bracketing Fabio's thighs. God, Fabio thought, he was so hot. He licked his lips on impulse, relishing in the way Tony's eyes tracked the movement, addicted to the rush of desire, how it prickled his skin.

The first press of their lips together was gentle, loving. Fabio froze for a beat, his heart racing, and all he could think was 'finally', 'finally'. Then, his brain clicked into gear, the sudden feelings rushing in like a tidal wave. He pushed into the kiss, trying to get as close as possible, allowing Tony to lick into his mouth when he gasped. Fabio didn't think he would ever be the same, not now that he knew the little panting noises that Tony made, the way his biceps flexed when he took off his t-shirt.

Fabio moaned when Tony broke off, focusing his attention on Fabio's neck, biting marks into his skin, and leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. He let his head fall backwards, gasping up at the ceiling as Tony continued, somehow knowing all of the things to make Fabio crazy, the spot behind his ear, how he licked across his collarbone, biting just this side of too hard. Fabio threaded his hands into Tony's hair, brought their lips together again. Every second that passed felt like a dream as he sank into his friend's grasp, revelling in the way they fit together, how Tony kissed like he never wanted to breathe again. God, Fabio was screwed.

They broke apart, both panting. Tony rested his forehead against Fabio's.

"You're such an idiot", he said.

"Hey!" Fabio scowled, way to ruin the moment.

"How did you not know that I liked you?"

Fabio frowned, confused.

"You didn't really make it obvious?"

'Fabio, I've been obsessed with you for years", Tony admitted, his tone amused, but honest.

"But the girlfriends..." Fabio countered.

"Nothing. None of them mattered. I flirted with you loads, I thought maybe you liked me back, but you never responded when I made a move, so I assumed you weren't interested. That it was a game to you."

"A game? What. No!"

"When did you realise?" Tony asked

"That I liked you?"

Tony laughed, shook his head.

"No, when did you figure out that I liked you?"

"Um, approximately two minutes ago", Fabio admitted.

Tony gaped.

"Okay, wow. And when did you work out that you liked me?" he questioned.

"Ah, Mig... The podcast"

"Of course"

Tony looked entertained, if slightly baffled. Fabio blushed, looked away in embarrassment. He wasn't sure what for, whether it was the amount of time it took for him to work out his feelings or just the foreign admittance of his emotions.

"No, no. It is cute. I am glad, No? Now I can do this," Tony said, before kissing Fabio again, brief and sweet. He pulled away, pressed small kisses to his cheeks, forehead, and nose until Fabio was giggling underneath him.

Tony kissed him properly then, firm and consuming, nipping Fabio's lower lip playfully as he drew back. It made something tingle in his lower belly, somewhere between affection and lust. God, he wanted this man so badly.

"Stay?" He whispered, their lips still brushing together.

Tony smiled, gently, pressed one more kiss to Fabio's cheek and replied.

"Of course, amore"

He silenced Fabio's answering giggle with his lips, playfully pushing him back against the headboard, fully seating himself in Fabio's lap and touching everywhere his hands could reach until Fabio forgot all of his troubles, thoughts consumed instead by the man in front of him.

The sun was bright when Fabio woke up the next morning. There was the foreign heat of another body curled around him. Tony, his head tucked into Fabio's neck, lips ghosting his skin in a way that made Fabio shiver on each exhale. The memories of last night came flooding back. Body heat, the soft sheets between them, the hazy head space he always got to when a partner knew how to look after him. The thought made his hips twitch in anticipation as he remembered how Tony easily pinned him down, both of Fabio's wrists encircled by one of Tony's hands, the other on his hip.

The room still smelled like sex.

He inhaled, tried to forget the fact that he now knew Tony was a talker in bed, constantly telling Fabio how well he was doing, how pretty he looked and telling him what to do. Fabio was officially ruined for anyone else; he would be unable to get into bed with another again without thinking about how Tony seemed to implicitly know everything Fabio wanted, the fine line between dominating and caring, being gentle but firm enough that Fabio could take a back seat.

He sighed, leant back against the Italian, tried not the disturb his sleep.

"Tesoro, stay still for just a second. It is too early," Tony groaned, his voice hoarse with sleep, deeper than usual. Fabio truly was ruined. He shifted again, restless, and pushed his ass into Tony's crotch, enjoying the little sound the younger man made in response.

"Sorry", Fabio whispered.

"No, you're not. Fucking tease." Tony mumbled.

Fabio hummed in agreement, rolled over so he could face Tony.

"You think we can go another round without anyone realising?" he asked, coquettish and coy as he batted his eyelashes at the other man.

Tony chuckled, but his eyes were dark.

They were late for breakfast.

They walked into the kitchen one after another; the others already sat at the table, Tom at the coffee machine, fiddling with the buttons. Fabio knew they weren't subtle, but couldn't bring himself to care, not when they all kind of knew anyway. He was well aware of the ring of bite marks encircling his throat, as well as scattered across his collarbones and chest. It turned out that Tony was quite possessive; Fabio didn't mind, had delighted in pressing his fingers to the bruises in the bathroom mirror earlier.

Tom noticed first, his eyes widening before his face did something complicated, torn between relief and disgust, settling on something like amusement. He fist bumped Tony on his way by, pulled Fabio into a hug, grimacing at the state of his neck.

"Fucking finally", he said, releasing Fabio from his arms and knocking their shoulders together as he turned back to the stubborn appliance.

Fabio blushed, smiled gently at Tony as the Italian leaned over from where he was grabbing two plates to brush a kiss to his lips.

Yep, Fabio thought, definitely ruined for anyone else.

#rpf summer camp #tony arbolino #fabio quartararo #tabio #???#what is their ship #tony/fabio #motogp #motogp rpf #tom maubant #love you guys #so much #hope you read this far to read that!

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eldritchships · 10 months ago

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Tonight's super specific Flatline fact is that in any scenario involving becoming trapped in a perfect dream world, Flatline would never be able to escape it without outside influence. Usually the character is able to leave through choosing to sacrifice their perfect world, but Flatline would be so desperate to keep the happy, peaceful, and indulgent world he's trapped in, that he wouldn't be able to resist giving in to it.

#Flatline (OC)#'Elijah is this even relevant to his character' YES IT IS #His longing for home is a core part of him #And I love tropes that personify and explore a character's subconscious. As we all know.

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the-whole-thing-through · 3 days ago

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Oh man :rubs hands together in glee: my fav thing, doing analysis on fictional characters about things that absolutely do not matter at all! And it just so happens that Matt's Catholicism is one of my favorite things to be a pedantic asshole about! So without further ado, let's get into it:

The Netflix show really ramped up Matt's religiosity and Catholicism. Comics Matt was never really depicted as being overtly religious or a practicing Catholic until far more recent runs which were clearly influenced by the show. Im not saying this is a bad thing, just a fact that I like to point out because, for the majority of Matt's history as a character, he isn't really religious, and its not considered a core part of his personality, unlike say, his anger and his aggression.

BUT we're talking about Show Matt here. When people talk about Matt's Catholicism and so called Catholic Guilt, its often pretty clear to me that they themselves are not Catholic or were not raised Catholic, and that they get the majority of their impressions of Catholicism from media. Show Matt is NOT depicted as being particularly devout. He was raised Catholic, and like a lot of cradle Catholics, I see him as being more "culturally" Catholic than anything. Its pretty heavily implied that as an adult Matt is not really practicing his faith. In his very first confessional scene with Father Lantom, he tells him its been a long time since his last confession. I think we can infer from that statement that the primary reason Matt is now visiting Father Lantom, when he wasn't before, is due to his internal conflict over being Daredevil, and having "the Devil inside" aka his innate aggression and thirst for violence, over any sort of deeply held religious belief.

I say "visit Father Lantom" Over going back to church, because we never get any sort of indication that Matt is actually going to Mass, or receiving the Eucharist weekly, which for Catholics, is actually a VERY big deal. We used to say in my home Parish that the church could forgive anything, except not going to Mass. True blue Catholics go to Mass every week to receive the Eucharist. You may show up in a tshirt and jeans, hungover as hell, having just cheated on your wife, but by God you went.

Of course, you could head canon that Matt does go to Mass and its just not being shown, but there isn't even a throwaway line about Matt going to church, so I think its pretty safe to say that he doesn't. Matt has a special father-son bond with Father Lantom, who he clearly respects and considers a mentor, so the confessional scenes are more about Matt seeking his advice rather than being a strict adherence to his religion, or about being actually absolved of any sin or wrongdoing.

Matt clearly doesn't adhere to the church's teachings on pre-marital sex (pssst most Catholics don't.) Not only that, but in one of his flashback scenes to his younger self, Father Lantom makes a point to call Matt out for arguing with his teacher during Catechism class. We know that as a kid at the orphanage Matt got into a lot of fights with the other kids (fights that he picked.) He was most definitely NOT the altar boy that Frank derides him as being. Matt was 100% the "bad kid" during Mass and at the orphanage. The one who argued with teachers and asked inconvenient questions. I imagine that he challenged authority and pushed back a LOT on a lot of the church's official teachings (he is a lawyer, after all.)

There are no openly queer characters on the show, so we never see Matt interact with someone who is openly gay, but there is no universe where I can picture Matt having any sort of religious conflict with homosexuality in general. Furthermore, Father Lantom is 100% a Jesuit priest, and Matt went to a Jesuit high school. Jesuits are notoriously one of the most liberal, progressive, and educated orders in the Catholic Church. Trad Caths HATE Jesuits for these reasons, and many of them consider Jesuits to be worse than non-Catholics. Zero chance that if young Matt DID have an issue with his sexuality, that Father Lantom would tell him that it was a sin, or something to be ashamed of.

But taught homophobia isn't the same as internalized homophobia, I agree. So let's get into THAT. You could easily head canon Matt as bi. The show never confirms his sexuality, other than clearly being attracted to women, and a lot of TV characters default sexuality is just "straight." I think that if Show Matt was bi, and did have any sort of internalized homophobia, it would stem from his upbringing and his relationship with his father over his religious beliefs.

Matt was raised by a single father, whom he idolized and hero worshipped. His dad was a boxer. Matt grew up practically living at Fogwell's, doing his homework in the corner while his dad trained. That's a very heavily male world, of the sort of old school masculinity that is considered uncommon and old fashioned now. He grew up in Hell's Kitchen, which in the show is considered a rough, dangerous, working class neighborhood.

Matt's dad didn't want him to grow up together be a fighter, but he clearly internalized a lot of his dad's beliefs and characteristics. Matt is a lot like his father. Don't be fooled by Charlie Cox's pretty face and cinnamon roll personality. Matt Murdock is 100% an extremely masculine, assertive, aggressive guy. An "alpha male" in the traditional connotation of the word of being a natural leader, not the redpill version. I find that a lot of fans tend to flanderize Matt from season 3 in order to turn him into a 100% soft boy (tm), but that ignores the fact that season 3 is Matt at his lowest and most vulnerable. Matt's true "default" nature, is more like the Matt we see in season 1, the person who is effortlessly confident, bordering on cocky. With season 1 Matt, its easy to see why people listen to him and follow him, despite the fact that a lot of his plans are, honestly, not the best. Its not just his fighting skills, its his entire personality. That's part of his appeal and the fascination of his character. On the surface, he is a mild-mannered, Ivy League educated attorney. He is disabled, so people tend to underestimate him. But that's not his TRUE self, which is that of a complete bruiser. Matt IS Daredevil, partly because he NEEDS the release of going out and beating people up. His innate violence and aggression have to have an "out." In Born Again, a lot of ppl have noted that Matt is significantly meaner and more of an asshole in general than he is in the OG show. Part of it is because of his grief over Foggy, yes, but it's also partly due to the fact that he no longer has that release for his pent up aggressiveness. In terms of coding and tropes, he's pretty much the definition of a masculine coded character (more on this in a sec.)

Knowing this about Matt, I think its easy to see that if he WERE attracted to men, he may have some self-identity issues, especially with the way he was brought up. You could easily explore that in fanfic, and a lot of ppl have and I think that's interesting.

Matt's sexual representation as an adult when we meet him in the Netflix show strikes me as extremely confident and sexually secure. If he did have issues surrounding sex or attraction, he's long since worked through them in college and law school. Matt is incredibly forward and direct when he is attracted to someone. He sleeps with Elektra the very first night he meets her. He flirts with Claire the first night he meets her. He very overtly flirts with Karen pretty much immediately. He clearly enjoys sex, and doesn't seem unduly burdened by sexual hang ups. Of course, we only ever see him hit on women, but I don't see anything reason to think he wouldn't be the same way with men if he was attracted to men.

There's a part II to this, but this essay was getting long. In Part II I'll discuss my fav Daredevil character, the character I see as being the most obviously queer coded in the series, Foggy Nelson

this is how it sounds when people try and connect matt's catholic guilt to his sexuality in mattfoggy fics

#matt murdock #father lantom #character analysis #Daredevil #queer coding #canon vs fanon #canon vs headcanon #bisexual representation #jack murdock #foggy nelson #mattfoggy #Matt Murdock's Catholicism

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cultivating-wildflowers · 7 months ago

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still on the same subject, but this passage came for my throat

#GUTTED #I have been SEEN #this is everything to me #this struck right at my core #it's not just Marcus realizing 'I can go home'#that would be enough #but it's him realizing home has changed #HE has changed #home is something else entirely #and he IS home #the homesickness is gone and finally he can rest #after all of that longing for his Etruscan hills and the old farm #I got to this part and had to take a minute to sniffle very quietly while my sister sat across from me studying for her final #anyway I finished Eagle of the Ninth (finally)#2024 reading list

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sandycookie · 5 months ago

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fellas the book 7 update…. *crying*

(refer to the tags for my rambling, just to minimize ppl accidentally spoiling themselves)

#sandy blabbles #twst #Book 7 spoilers #dude ace loves his friends sm #His happiness including yuu’s own happiness—where they get to go back to their home but also still be able to stay in twst; still get to ha #Hang out and be friends. Never having to say goodbye.#I just…heart shackle my beloved they could never make me hate you #It really shows how much Ace truly loves his friends and how he doesn’t WANT to part with them; say goodbye and sever his ties with them #Its actually rlly similar to Malleus’s whole OB thing; both of them fear the imminent parting of their loved ones #I think it’s really noteworthy that Ace’s happiness gets predicated on Yuu’s happiness FIRST #I think in reality deep down he FOESNT want Yuu to go back home; because it’s likely that their way back home is a one way trip.#It’s not like graduating and going back home. In this case Yuu is gone. Period. They existed in TWST in one moment and the next they cease #However he also knows that them staying in TWST would only be painful; they had a life before NRC and to make them say goodbye to that fore #Is something he also doesn’t want to do; the fact that one of the core false memories the dream is built upon is YUU’S HAPPY EXPRESSION at #Crowley finding a way for them back home is…*chef’s kiss* so ofc the ideal solution for him is to let them travel between world’s; that way #The both of them can be happy; Yuu can go back home but still be with Ace and their friends. Dude I’m just so fucking touched—Ace has #Infamously bad emotional communication yet he cares and loves sm. Yes he’s an ass yes he’s a jerk yes he’s a selfish teen boy; but he’s *ou #Asshole. Who will have our back as we do his; who will be happy with as he is with Heartshackle. When you get down to it Ace is sentimental #Whereas Malleus’ solution has involved him selfishly restraining the ppl he loves in an effort not to lose them; and ending up alone i #Ace’s UM defo coming in Book 7 (or 8; him getting his UM during a confrontation with Malleus would be very fitting)#It’s almost poetic how traitor ace theory is simultaneously torn away but also…not with his dream.#The fact remains that he cares for Yuu and doesn’t want them to go; those feelings which are core to the theory ARE there. But at the same #Time he’s not selfish enough to do that to Yuu…sure there IS the question of how he would treat the situation in reality rather than the #Ideal dream but I think that by the end of book 7 any lingering feelings he might have of keeping Yuu in twst; even to their detriment will #Fall in the face of malleus who is emblematic of such desires. Book 7 will end in Ace wholeheartedly working with us to find Yuu a way back #Home. Because if that’s what will bring them happiness; even if it’s a happiness Ace will not have been a part of for long or much longer #Then he will do it. Even if parting is painful having the people he loves be in pain for the rest of their lives (ie Yuu being trapped) is #Far far FAR more painful then parting ever could be. Because for as much as Ace bullies and pursues being a cool kid #He will never be able to stop caring and loving his dear friend #(Also couldn’t fit this in but the fact that he was able to be so rational while delululu when resisting waking up is SO on point

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nexus-nebulae · 1 year ago

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it's kinda funny how similar to my grandpa i am considering my birthday was three days after his

#but also like. i Never met him. he died long before i was born #so he never influenced me and by god is the rest of my family so different from him #that the fact i turned out this way is an absolute shocker #im a chemist (like him) just the other day i found out he was also agnostic like me #there's lots more details #i have to wonder if that time i thought i saw his ghost was real and that was him saying he was looking out for me or smthn #i was 3 and probably just dreaming but my ENTIRE life i actually thought I'd MET him #until when i was like 15 and found out he died like. ten years before i was born #and then i had a crisis abt that night bc i was SO SURE it was really him #and bc i was three nobody really ever spoke to me about him yet???? i only saw him as a photo on the wall #so i don't really know why that happened it's just a core memory for some reason #it's part of why this one person buying my grandpa's house and then turning it into an airbnb pissed me off so much #like. that was his home that he built with his own hands. and you've. turned it into a shitty modern home with no soul.#you've taken away everything that made his house special #i desperately wanted that house since i was a small child #I'm still upset we sold it

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wsancho · 2 days ago

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YESSSS!! Let the juices flow! 👀

I don't think Sabin's reaction is out of character, but the heat of the moment is missable. He just finished fighting off someone who was close to him and was trying to kill him. Normalcy is jarring right after you've been in a setting where your survival is threatened. It takes time, space and mindfulness to readjust (soldiers get PTSD because they don't get none of that. I heard that the Roman Empire had a ritual of several days specifically meant to bring their soldiers back from "combat mode" before sending them home. Makes sense). This moment with Vargas is treated as if Sabin just stepped on a bug, but I take it as one of those things where all the emotional charge get lost due to lack of expressions and dialogue. It also makes it make sense when he overreacts with Ultros. I don't like his reaction but I see where it comes from.

Also I doubt the brothers have an inner narrative where the other is casting judgment (condemnation). But when you love someone to death and at the same time you witness them doing things that you utterly disagree with; you'll give them tough love, not treats or kudos (Sabin saying that he feared Figaro turning into a puppet state isn't exactly praising Edgar's work). I think of Sabin's reaction to seeing Edgar as that of a parent who sees their kid choosing a dangerous career path, as in "I love you and let you make your own decision, but as long as you go down this path I don't wanna hear a fucking thing about it". He asks Edgar what he's doing in Mount Kolts, but may be anticipating a very unsatisfying answer.

They let the other be his own self and they still trust each other blindly because at the core it's the same pure heart that drives both. That unconditional love is always there, untouched. But they take opposite extremes about how to solve the problem at hand, which undeniably causes conflict, but it doesn't break them apart. ❤️😤

I have theories about the unknowns you mentioned 🫡

The twins' shared flashback ends with the coin toss. There are some logistics afterwards that are never shown (because the flashback is about the twins' bond, not about logistics), mainly:

Sabin leaving. I think he leaves immediately, considering that he doesn't wanna deal with the people in the castle. Were there obstacles for him leaving? Not great obstacles, in my opinion. I think Edgar telling the priestess to leave them alone (and her understanding it as "get everyone to leave us alone") granted them enough privacy for Sabin to silently get out and people just taking it as "he's being emotional, he needs some time alone and he'll come back to his senses in the morning". I know of kids "escaping home" only to come back hours later because they didn't figure out the next step. 🫤

Revealing the decision to the other politicians. Edgar would tell them only after Sabin was out of reach. After this reveal it could get difficult for Sabin to make any move. There's the semi-canon Figaroan belief that twin monarchs are a good omen so the commoners, more than anyone else, would object to having only one twin ruling. I'm thinking that the politicians have their preference too, either for the one who behaves more like them (Edgar), or for the one who seems more simple-minded and easy to puppeteer (Sabin).

King's funeral. By Sabin's reaction of denial, I get that he didn't see his dad's corpse (and wouldn't wanna see it). If the show Six Feet Under taught me anything, it's that funerals are for the living, to give them closure and facilitate detachment. Sabin not taking part in the funerary rituals could contribute to this boy not being over his daddy issues ten years and lots of meditation later.

Edgar's coronation. Again, I don't see Sabin sticking around for this. At this point it's settled, whether Figaro likes it or not, there's only one heir, and it's much easier to get them to accept this if there's no other choice available. There's a fanfic that brushes on some Figaroan rumors of Edgar exiling Sabin to take the throne for himself. Awfully unfair and typical in these circumstances. 😞👌🏼

Sabin getting Duncan to take him in. In the flashback Sabin is just finding out about his dad and then that leads to him wanting to leave the place and expecting Edgar to come along:

Seems that Sabin wanted to be with his brother, nothing more. And he didn't realize Edgar had been preparing for his dad's passing. Sabin wasn't planning to go to Duncan's and bring Edgar along, he wasn't planning for his dad to get murdered and run away to train to avenge dad's death, or train to fight the Empire just because. My take is that in this moment he felt more pressured than ever and considered that this was the perfect moment to go for what they really wanted. I think Sabin's "plan" goes something like this:

Phase 1: Collect underpants. Escape.

Phase 2: ❓

Phase 3: Profit. Happiness.

He proposes the same thing that these fools did (probably would get the exact same result):

If you haven't seen this, it's a great film. It sucks.

There may have been a vague idea of that idyllic life, but not a real roadmap: spending most time in nature, answering to no one, doing only the the things they're passionate about; and since Gestahl started some shit, maybe one fateful day they'd be going to knock on Gestahl's door to kick his ass or something. Good stuff! Good wishful thinking stuff. 🥲

Wishful thinking, or rather the ability to take the mind outside the boundaries of linear thinking and logic is what I believe allowed Sabin to become mind-blowingly skilled and off-the-charts strong. He did not follow the predictable trajectory he was on (as a prince and as a sickly child), and once off the beaten path, anything was possible. This is one of Sabin's most important strengths, it contrasts Edgar's mind-blowingly strategic thinking and off-the-charts foresight. But in order to succeed they still dip their feet in the other's field: Edgar is not only doing diplomacy, he's secretly arming his nation. Sabin didn't go on a 10-year vacation, he devotes himself to a real life project after leaving the castle. I think Sabin only realizes the need to do something about the Empire after cooling down, away from the castle drama, dwelling in the loss of his family.

Sabin knows what Edgar is trying to do. He knows Edgar knows what's right and fair and just. Both boys think they know where the other's approach is lacking as they lack the ability to fully grasp what the other can achieve. But they do have enough respect to let the other do his thing while in disagreement.

Meeting again and being in agreement was unexpected but not a coincidence. Each went and perfected himself without the other's influence only to come back together in a moment when Edgar took an uncharacteristically dangerous stance while Sabin had been uncharacteristically subduing his eagerness in favor of his martial arts roadmap and to let Edgar's strategy play out. As all paths lead to Rome, whatever these boys do leads them to each other because the opposite life choices are external things, but on the inside, they're one and the same. ❤️‍🔥

And in the end they get to live how they want to; not for a season or a few years, but for the rest of their lives. Sabin's idyllic life (which both twins desire) can only be secured after both decide to play the long game. Edgar may have known this pretty early, but it'd take Sabin some time to see the full picture. 💪🏼👑

Figaro Twins’ Coulda, Woulda, Shouldas

On a previous post I wondered if the twins could have maintained communication during their 10-year separation. My guess is that they didn’t, given that the High Priestess doesn’t know what Sabin’s been up to; Edgar doesn’t seem to know either, and he’s surprised to find out where he’s been living and who he’s been hanging out with.

But Sabin’s initial reaction to seeing Edgar felt off. Too casual and carefree for someone who sees his beloved big brother for the first time in a decade. Even if they had maintained communication, this still feels off, impersonal and unaffected.

The brothers shoulda hugged and celebrated seeing each other but they didn’t. With the characters being who they are and without putting blame on the devs, how could this make sense for these boys? Like, WHY WOULDN’T THEY HUG, GODDAMNIT?! 😖🥺

When Sabin first saw Gerad he didn’t react much either. We can blame it on the good ol’ “platform limitations” and “time restrictions”, but I like to take canon as is and figure out how it could work in service of my personal, self-indulgent narrative that makes me happy 🧐

So my theory is that, as much as Sabin looks up to Edgar emotionally and intellectually, he doesn’t really expect Edgar’s diplomatic approach to work.

Before leaving Figaro, Sabin wanted to avenge his dad, but his rage completely deflates when Edgar puts the focus on politics, like everyone else in the castle. Sabin may have convinced himself that he’d have to do this alone, even against Edgar’s established diplomacy. Not only does Sabin know Figaro’s situation before Kefka’s attack, he knows of the Returners hideout (some gamers interpret this as “the Returners not being great at hiding”, but one can know, for example, that Edward Snowden is in Russia or that Osama Bin Laden was in Afghanistan; but finding them requires slightly more knowledge than that. Sabin knows exactly where the Returners hide). I don’t think he had direct contact with them, but seems he had been actively looking for the information, not just learning whatever came his way.

Sabin loves his big brother and wouldn’t go against him, which is why he waited for diplomatic efforts to fall apart, as they did. But until then, Edgar’s decisions are very much the same of those who let his father perish. Sabin might have mixed feelings about Edgar because they had been on opposite ideological sides (imagine if Edgar had replied “We're climbing this mountain to meet up with my guest Kefka and escort him to the castle” Yuck! 😒).

Edgar had been reacting a little more to hearing about Sabin and to seeing him again, but I believe he prevents himself from showing too much and tries to keep his cool at all times. Also, after seeing so little reaction from Sabin, he might have gotten the impression that Sabin isn’t as comfortable with him as he used to be, so Edgar keeps his distance and accepts whatever Sabin chooses to express; after all, he set Sabin free in all possible ways. He’s not conflicted about Sabin and is not trying to maintain the distance, he’s just respectfully passive.

Of course Sabin trusts Edgar’s intentions. I think he’s having a bit of “emotional jet lag” (like he just learned that his surrogate dad got murdered by his surrogate brother and then tried to kill him too, or something 🤔), but as soon as Edgar tells him that diplomacy went to shit and they’re getting ready to strike back, Sabin is onboard, driven and even excited; if there were any doubts, all dispel once he finds himself on the same team as his bro.

Then there’s the part where Sabin jumps into the river to fight Ultros. It rubs me the wrong way that he pushes Edgar aside and jumps anyway. Sabin is not listening to reason and he’s not really a team player here. He’s trying to protect Terra from Ultros, but it’s very much an overreaction and I think it has to do with his need to prove himself and his disfavor for Edgar’s more passive methods (and with Sabin not having been part of a team ever before).

Sabin coulda listened and stay put, but I think his detour helps build his character. Sure, he meets and brings along new people and new information about what’s going on in the world, and all those are very important things for the plot; but I see a subtle mellowing down of his temper. He’s separated from the group and can’t help to constantly wonder if his brother is safe (the English translation makes it about the group, but in the original he’s worried about Edgar). I think he knows he kinda fucked up. Things worked out fine, but he seems less impulsive afterwards and more willing to listen.

Knowing that Edgar cares and worries about Sabin as much as he always did, I can see why it’s a little jarring when Edgar doesn’t try to save him after the encounter with Ultros, especially because recently the FF6 Rom Hack, Divergent Paths, was brought to my attention (thanks @monk-of-figaro ❤️) and it had me thinking whether Edgar woulda jumped in like “any sane brother would”, to quote the mod. And well… I don’t think Edgar is a “sane brother”. He’s a righteous king and there’s nothing sane about that 🤷🏻‍♀️

Seeing Sabin float away hurts my feelings way more than the devs intended to, and I’m sure Edgar would fear for his little bro, like he probably feared for him for an entire decade (Sabin was a sickly and overly emotional teenager leaving home for the first time to go who knows where). But if there’s one thing that distinguishes Edgar’s way of ruling is that he makes the hard choices:

Observes his father’s poor health knowing that he’ll soon die an untimely and unnatural death. Edgar makes the hard choice of seeing his own powerlessness for what it is and accepting that all he can do is witness his dad’s decay. Someone sane would have been in denial of this and focused on finding the culprit and avenging his father. Instead, he went through the same emotional turmoil as Sabin, but quietly, alone, and in the course of weeks or months as his father’s death came closer. And this is how Figaro was spared from becoming another Doma.

Witnesses Sabin’s meltdown after the king’s death and makes the hard choice of giving him the freedom to remove himself from the toxic environment. Someone sane would have escaped with him or tried to talk him into staying, and Sabin would have probably agreed to it if Edgar guilt-tripped him or simply told him “I want you by my side”. But Edgar wouldn’t sway Sabin in any way, no matter how badly he wanted him around. Sabin was too attached to Edgar and could never define his individuality if he kept doing whatever Edgar did or told him to do.

And when Sabin gets his ass beat by Ultros and is at risk of getting drowned or found by the Empire and killed, Edgar chooses to stick with the program. A sane brother would have gone after him, but the mission was to keep Banon alive and getting him to Narshe for negotiations. It’s not only “game over” because you fail the minigame, it’s game over because Edgar has been a double agent for a decade and the resistance can’t fully trust him like they do Banon. For the rebels to be on his side, Edgar depends on having Banon’s trust (this isn’t stated anywhere, but it’s only logical). Terra was not a Returner then, she was still doubtful and Edgar never wanted to force his ideas on her (like Banon), so leaving this to her was not an option either. Losing Banon is losing all chances of saving Figaro, while losing Sabin would cause Edgar to lose his mind, an entire nation would still survive. The right choice is the hardest of choices and Edgar’s judgment is on point; as it has been since his adolescence.

Hell, even when Edgar proposes his idea to Banon and gets rejected, it happens to be exactly what they end up doing (in the English translation he proposes “to make magical weapons” but in the original he talks only about “acquiring magic of their own”). Who knows what Banon’s plan was before meeting Terra. After meeting her, I believe his plan goes something like this:

Phase 1: Collect underpants. Talk to Espers.

Phase 2: ❓

Phase 3: Profit. Peace.

Anyway, I’ve always wanted to see more interaction between the FF6 cast (still do 🥲). Fanworks do a great job filling in the blanks, as I’m sure the devs intended, but self-indulgence is a tradeoff that prevents from discovering character traits that are easy to overlook and can be difficult to make sense of, especially for characters who operate in a state of maturity or conditioning or emotional strain that is difficult for us to access or even begin to understand.

I love that Sabin is such a lively, honest and self-motivated dude, that he grows and learns exclusively by doing. He does, he fucks up, he learns. And he laughs out loud while at it 😁❤️ Ultimately that’s how true wisdom is acquired, only by experience (there’s no such thing as acquiring wisdom from others’ experiences, you only remember the wisdom your soul already possesses by learning about how others articulate and express theirs).

On the other extreme it’s heartbreaking that Edgar is so freaking talented that he can see where the system fails, and having both talent and power, it’s up to him and him alone to come up with real solutions. No other character in this entire cast could pull off any of this shit as smoothly. To paraphrase La Femme Nikita: “[...] because when you lead, we survive.” And Edgar knows this 😕

This is unfathomable for most of us. I’m nobody, so I get to sit on my ass and talk about what the politicians should do, and what the sports coaches should do, and what the movie directors should do. I also get to make mistakes and fuck up my health and my finances and my career and my relationships and my home, but no one else’s. And because I’ve got this luxury it’s easy for me to say what would have been. If the FF6 devs did things my way it would have been not the masterpiece that it is. Heartbreaking as it is, it tells the stories of these (fictional) people organically and faithfully.

#ff6 #ffvi #final fantasy vi #final fantasy 6 #edgar roni figaro #sabin rene figaro #headcanon #fan theories #monk-of-figaro

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devotedlystrangewizard · 1 year ago

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id never say my mom was like. objectively correct in how she raised me. she fucked up a lot. but then i look at my stepbrother booting up the ps5 at 8 am knowing he wont turn it off until bedtime. not for a new release (which im guilty of having extensive playtimes in that situation) but for roblox & hello neighbor. and suddenly i am immensely grateful that she told me not to do that and supported my other interests

#ramblings #personal #this is in part because i cant play crisis core without being up at 5 am bc he keeps hijacking the ps5 #sometimes i am reminded that i own books and that i have my mom to thank for that #like selfishly i just want ps5 time dear god its been 3 days #but im also just worried about him. and his development as a person #please someone give this child enrichment in his enclosure he keeps having a meltdown whenever im on the ps5 when he gets home #LIKE ITS THAT BAD #HE COMES HOME FROM SCHOOL WHILE IM GRINDING FFXIV OR SOMETHING AND HE JUST STARTS BROODING #HE HAS NO OTHER HOBBIES. NOTHING ELSE TO DO. BUT USE THE TV FOR VIDEOGAMES #im fine this is fine god i cant wait until i live on my own and no longer have to share a tv with a kid with 0 hobbies away from it #listen my first bg3 play session was approximately 14 hours. but that was my first bg3 play session #roblox is poison to the mind of our youth or something #im not old but sometimes i look at my siblings and suddenly i understand my mom its traumatizing #i dont mind gaming. i dont even mind long gaming sessions. my issue is most specifically with the fact that the dude starts crying #if you take the tv from him. if you tell him to do something else. if you tell him hes not allowed rn #thats not healthy

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nereidprinc3ss · 8 months ago

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bambi

in which spencer reid and fem!reader fuck like they missed each other (because they always do) and he teases her for her shaky legs

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom spencer, piv sex (riding, a first for nereidprinc3ss) /oral f receiving (in that order) mentions of him accidentally grabbing her hips too hard, slight somno SORT OF like he starts going down on her while she’s sleepy and then she kind of goes in and out but its all consensual, sorry haters i fucking love sleepy sex and I always will, teasing, lots of praise, fluffy, established relationship, he loves her badddd, aftercare, literally nothing bad happens no angst for once they just are having sex cause they are in love which is arguably the most superior kind of sex! a/n: I don’t think I’ve ever written smut that is so wham bam thank you ma’am like really we just get RIGHT into it!! also no gif no pics we r going old nereidprinc3ss on this one I hope you loveeee!!!

You roll over onto Spencer and kiss once, long and deep and sweet. He hums into it, too whipped to pretend like he’s got self control or respect, hands finding the soft skin of your bare waist and settling there.

How it got to this point so quickly, no more than fifteen minutes after he walked through the door, you can’t say. Usually the two of you are a bit more domestic when he gets home from a case, but eight days is a long time to be apart, and the trail of clothing leading from the welcome mat to the foot of the bed attests to that.

So does the lack of teasing, of begging—at least, a lack up until this point. Right now, there’s only him, patient and content to let you play at being in charge. You pull back and reach down to grab him gently, aligning him at your entrance with a trembling hand. This part, you’re not usually responsible for.

He assures you with a hand to the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles. “You got it. Slowly.”

You do as he says, brow furrowing in focus as you sink down an inch or two onto him. Spencer’s breathing grows erratic as you take more and more of him, and in a heroic display of overachieving, you take the rest of him at once with nothing but a squeak. He laughs breathily as his fingers dig into your hips.

“Fuck—I said slow.”

You can’t think. The overwhelm of it all is too much as you crumple forward onto his chest. The subtle rocking you’re doing to try and alleviate some of the pressure in your core is apparently too much as he stops you by the hips, fingers pressing into those same tender spots.

Spencer’s breath is ragged. “Don’t… do not move.”

“Fuck,” you breathe into his shoulder, long and drawn out as despite his wishes you wriggle around, trying to get comfortable. “Oh my god.”

“My lovely girl, please… please don’t move,” Spencer gasps, a plead, and you try to stop for him, nuzzling even deeper against his neck. “I need a minute.”

“It’s too much,” you slur, dizzy as you try to adjust to the feeling. “Please.” You don’t know what you’re asking for. Maybe relief from the sensation that he can’t offer you. Maybe more.

Spencer is undone by you—the way you writhe on top of him, the way your voice shakes, the way you’re so totally and completely overwhelmed and he can feel it and he loves it.

“Baby,” he breathes, and he meant to say a lot more than that, but it’s the best he can manage when he is this overstimulated. “Baby,” he whispers again, wrapping his arms around you in an effort to ground you, to give you something else to focus on as you both get used to the feeling.

It’s going well—for a moment, before your back is arching.

“Spence, I need to move, I can’t—”

“Okay, okay.” He takes a deep breath, returning his hands to your waist and mentally preparing himself not to cum early. He’s desperate to give you want you want, to feel you like this. “Go ahead. Move, honey. Please.”

By the time you slowly lift your hips up and drop back down with a low cry, Spencer’s lost. His head falls back against the pillow and his eyes squeeze shut.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Oh, angel, I missed you.”

You do it again, motivated by his praise, and he can hear your little gasps and desperate gulps of air.

“I missed you so much,” you whine and clench around him, pleasure so intense it’s a resounding ache in the far reaches of your body. “Oh, fuck, Spencer.”

Spencer shivers. He loves when you make it personal, when you say his name like that and it becomes clear this isn’t just about the physical.

“My girl. Just like that. Doing so well, baby, just like that.”

Each pass of your hips has you whining. Your lips skim over his neck, not cognizant enough to actually kiss—only to know that you want the contact.

“Please can I go faster?”

Spencer almost doesn’t realize you’re speaking to him he’s so lost in pleasure. The idea of faster is as compelling as it is troublesome. Spencer doesn’t know if he can’t take faster, not when he has you like this, but he certainly wants to find out.

“Yeah, lovely. Do whatever feels good.”

You readjust and begin to pick up the pace, stumbling over a few false starts as it’s clearly more sensation than you’d been prepared for.

Spencer, on the other hand, has his eyes screwed shut tight, and is attempting to draw a two-dimensional Császár polyhedron on your back, but he loses his place with every twitch of your hips, so eventually he decides to trace imperfect Mandelbrots down your spine—anything to avoid thinking about how the pH of your body interacts with sweet vanilla perfume to create a scent so deeply intoxicating he’d leave his entire life behind just to trail after it, or how you fucking feel against him, on top of him, around him, how miraculous it is that you keep letting him touch you—

“Oh—” you whine quietly, a strangled sort of noise that has his heart skipping. Your hand tangles desperately in his hair as you rock your hips faster and faster and he lets out a tortured groan. “Spencer, oh my fucking god.”

“I know, baby,” he manages, endeared by the fact that you feel so good you have to share it with him. Even now you’re trying to explain it because you want him to be part of it—as if he doesn’t know exactly what you’re feeling already. “That feels good, huh?”

“Mm—f—eels—” you cut yourself off with a cry into the crook of his neck, and he holds the back of your head, vision greying as he stares unseeing at the ceiling because if he looks down this’ll be over too soon.

“You’re so good,” he breathes, “you’re perfect.”He hears you gasp at the same time as your rhythm falters, and presses a kiss somewhere indiscriminately on your head. “Gonna cum?” He murmurs in your ear, and you nod desperately, rutting against him hopelessly as your thighs tremble from exertion.

Even the smallest drop-off in friction has his head spinning like he stood up too quickly, so he gives himself enough leverage to start fucking you. You cry out and shift your weight like you’re going to try and evade the feeling—self-sabotage, you always do this—and he again has to hold your hips in an iron vice, just to force you to feel it.

“You’re okay, I’m gonna get you there.”

“Fuck!” You very nearly yell, still trying to wriggle away up until the very last second like the tide going out before the tsunami comes. When you do cum, your demeanor instantly changes—you get heavy and clingy and whiny as you rock back and forth through your orgasm.

“Good girl,” Spencer murmurs, being careful in the way he continues to fuck you until he reaches his peak as well, not long after. You shudder, and Spencer feels the way your entire body tenses the way it sometimes does after a particularly strong orgasm, and he fights his way out of the brain fog to rub your back with the skimming tips of his fingers. “Shh. You’re okay. Relax, baby.”

And you do, unwound by the dance of his hand and with a few shallow breaths that gradually deepen, until you’re once more slack on top of him.

“You’re incredible,” he exhales, with his lips pressed to your hairline.

So clearly overwhelmed, the only response you can muster is a soft squeak. Spencer laughs fondly, still mapping the soft curve of your back. He feels the way you’re still attempting to train your breathing and kisses your hair again. “What do you need, angel?”

“I’m s’posed to be taking care of you,” you slur. Spencer chuckles again and his brow knits.

“According to who?”

“According to… I was on top…”

“Yeah. You did all the hard stuff. Your legs are shaking.”

You whine softly. “No they’re not.”

His hand slides down to your thigh, and he rubs the trembling muscles.

“No? No Bambi legs for me this time?”

You squeeze them around his waist like you could shrink away from his touch. “Spence…”

“I’m teasing you, honey,” he murmurs, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “You’re cute.”

“Hm.”

“Look at me,” he murmurs, angling his head expectantly as you slowly raise yours. The look on your face is so sweet—eyes half lidded, lips swollen and much higher in color than usual. Your cheek is warm to the touch. His heart flutters like it did on your first date, and the first time he kissed you, and the first time you fell asleep on his shoulder. This view will never get old. “Wow. Look at you, beautiful girl. Can I have a kiss?”

And you grant him his wish, with a long, soft kiss that’s worth every second of that burning feeling in his lungs, every time.

Eventually you huff out the remainder of your air against his well-kissed lips and your head flops to his chest.

“I’m sleepy.”

“So go to sleep,” he murmurs, so warm from your kiss he feels nothing could be wrong in the world at this moment.

“I can’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“’Cause you just got home ’nd I missed you and I wanna spend time with you.”

“We have three days to spend together. If you go to sleep now, we’ll actually get more time together tomorrow.”

“But it’s more about, like, how it feels—how much time it feels like we spend together right when you get home, and if I go to sleep now, it’s gonna feel like less time, and—basically you’re just not understanding my math.”

“What math?” He laughs, continuing to rub your legs all the way up to your hips, at which point you hiss and buck—a very visceral feeling when he’s still inside of you. “What? What hurts?”

“You tried to fucking tear my hip flexors from my body, is what hurts,” you grumble.

“Tender?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m really sorry, angel. Tylenol?”

“Mm-mm. Can you kiss me better?” Sleep stains your voice. Spencer smiles to himself.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Lie down.”

Again you whine as you slip off of him, landing heavily on your back. He sits up, watches with so much affection the way you squeeze your thighs together and arch ever so slightly against the empty feeling.

“Spencer?” You whisper as he cups the top of your knees.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

He pushes your legs apart gently so he can settle in between them and kisses you again. “I love you. So much.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

He presses a kiss to your head, down your neck, taking the scenic route to your hip bones, but you don’t seem to mind.

The feeling of his lips gentle on the tender flesh has you humming softly, eyes fluttering shut as he showers you with gentle kisses. His traces every place his fingers had pressed earlier—feels the way you relax further underneath him. Nobody’s ever let him in this deeply before, but you trust him with everything you have; your body, your soul, in life or death, awake and in sleep. He’ll never take that for granted. He will never pass on an opportunity like this, to be the one who takes care of you, who puts you back together, as long as you’ll let him.

Still dancing the line of consciousness, you part your legs, the slow drag of your bare thigh like a jumper cable to his heart. Fingertips trace desirous paths up your inner thigh and back down again. He recognizes this invitation for what it is, and he knows exactly how to give you what you want, but he asks first anyway.

“Was that on purpose?”

“I d’know what you mean. I’m so sleepy,” you slur, and he believes the second half of your statement to be fact.

Spencer pushes your thigh a little higher, and you’re completely pliable for him, completely gorgeous. As soon as he skims your thigh with a barely-there kiss, exactly the way you like, you’re lacing a hand in his hair.

“Please, Spence…” you murmur, and he can’t argue with that. He especially can’t argue when you widen your legs just that slightest bit more, and your arousal is opalescent between your legs.

He hums, trailing more kisses up until he’s setting the softest one yet against your clit. “Beautiful girl…”

The following gasp is so tiny he could’ve missed it if he wasn’t so attuned to your noises—and then he gets lost in you, making sure to keep his ministrations light as you already came twice recently and are sure to be sensitive. He doesn’t want to wake you from whatever twilight half-slumber trance you’re in, either, sensing that if he does you’ll fight all over again to stay up.

And admittedly, he adores being trusted to take care of you like this.

Your back arches as much as you’re capable of in this state, and he can’t help the way he just barely suctions onto you at that moment, coaxing a sighing moan so sweet and vulnerable and open it gives him chills. Fuck. He really wants to make you cum. But instead he practices patience, tracing you with the tip of his tongue, pressing gentle kisses everywhere you need them—he draws it out. For he doesn’t know how long.

The first time you get close, your hips begin to roll, and you spout little ah’s, but he talks you back down again, laughing lightly at your angelic cooing, your little sounds of sleepy pleasure. Even now you’re so responsive, moving against his mouth as he slips a finger into your soaked entrance, fucks you for a moment, and then retreats. Maybe he’s being unfair, but you don’t seem to mind.

In fact, you’re slipping in and out of sleep as he devours you for what feels like hours, one hand pressed lovingly to your stomach, stroking the soft skin there. Spencer’s never had this long to explore you with his mouth and he takes full advantage of every moment, but he keeps all his kisses and licks and touches gentle and reverent and so loving.

You don’t know how long it’s been, or how many times he’s made you cum when he finally retreats—you half-wake just as he’s finishing cleaning you up. Soon he tosses the towel aside and presses feather-light kisses to each of your cheeks, tear-stained and warm with pleasure. You feel completely drained and completely loved.

“Hi, sleeping beauty,” he murmurs, climbing into bed with you, at some point having gotten dressed.

You manage an embarrassed little laugh. More tears crawl down your cheeks as you roll to your side. Spencer brushes them away and pulls you into him, slinging your thigh over his waist. He chuckles.

“Shaky?”

“Stop,” you whine, embarrassed by his teasing, and hide your face against his chest. “That’s not my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault. It’s sweet,” he insists as he rubs your back. And then, a moment later, “So—do you think we’ve spent enough time together for tonight?”

“No.”

He sighs good-naturedly.

“You’re gonna wear me out, you know that?”

“’F you… can’t handle the heat… get outta the kitchen.”

When he next speaks you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Go to sleep, Bambi. Let’s see if you can walk in the morning.”

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer Reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic

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scoobywrites690 · 25 days ago

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Simon and his favourite cam girl

cw: cam girl, fake cock, penetration, male masturbation (This ones kinda long but I'm thinking of doing a part two where Simon is actually present for one of the lives and she fucks him instead of a toy, what do you guys think of that?)

Simon's favourite time of day is when he finally clocks off from his shift and he gets to go home in time for your evening live. Propped up in bed with his cock already chubbed up in his jeans at the sight of your pretty little face filling up his laptop screen, as you sit there in the matching pink lace set Simon had sent to your P.O box recently.

“There’s my favourite viewer.” You sing-song down the microphone with the biggest, brightest smile on your face at the sight of Simon’s account joining the live. Simon can't help but smile a little at the way your demeanor changes when you realise he’s joined, it makes Simon feel as if there's a form of connection between the two of you.

Simon’s quick to send a message into the chat at your acknowledgement of his presence.

“Well don't you look cute, luvie. I’m glad it fits you properly<3”

Simon discovered your account when you were just starting out, barely getting over 50 viewers per live, but Simon joined every single one. Sending tips to support you, typing messages into your live chat throughout the whole session, and when you opened your P.O box Simon would spoil you with gifts every time he received his paycheck, earning him a private message containing a cute little thank you ending with a heart every time.

“It fits perfectly, thank you.” You giggle, giving the camera a little spin making sure to wiggle your ass slightly to show off how well the lace hugs you before facing the front again.

“Anyway, anyway enough messing around.” You chuckle whilst waving your hands, as if brushing away the previous events. “I have a fun new toy for us to try out together.” You say with a smirk on your face as you quickly go off camera, to then reappear with what looks to be a form of silicone cock.

“One of you guys sent me this, and it’s absolutely massive. Look at it.” You remark, as you hold the fake cock up to your face as a comparison. It was massive, bigger than anything Simon’s ever seen you use. But in all honesty from where Simon is sitting it’s not much bigger than his actual dick, that’s currently rock hard and straining against the denim of his jeans as he waits for the real show to begin.

“But we’re gonna give it a go, you’ll just have to be patient as this is much bigger than what I'm used to, okay everyone are we ready?” You exclaim, batting your eyelashes at the camera before giving them your signature smile. The live chat is soon spilling in new messages every second, of everyone expressing their excitement towards today's toy.

Simon’s quick to release his cock from the confinements of his jeans allowing it to spring free and slap against his stomach. His tip is red and throbbing as it leaks with pearls of pre cum twitching in anticipation, as he watches you spit in your palm to start working it onto the fake cock. Laying down onto your back you pull the pretty pink panties to the side allowing the camera to get a clear view of your soaked core, before aligning the fake cock up with your sopping entrance.

“Here we go.” You exclaim, giving the camera one last smile before attempting to push the cock inside of you. It barely moves, with only the tip disappearing inside of you before it won’t go any more. So you start working the tip in and out your tight little entrance coating the silicone in your arousal. And ever so slowly, inch by inch more of the fake cock disappears inside of you until you reach the flared base.

“Ta-da! We got there in the end.” You giggle, as you work the cock in and out of your tight wet pussy. The sight of you fucking yourself has Simon fisting his poor cock wishing it was him stuffing you full, as he pumps his cock.

The lewd sounds of you pussy pulling the fake cock back inside of you fills the room as you ram it deep with every thrust. Your gasps and moans filter out through the laptop speakers, as Simon fists his fat cock. The sound of your sweet sweet noises has him cursing under his breath as he leaks fat glops of pre cum over and over again.

“Oh..fuck, you guys. I’m so fucking full right now.” You moan, your chest panting and you try to catch your breath.

“God! I’m not gonna last much longer, guys.” You say, pumping the cock in and out of yourself.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, as your thighs begin to shake as you clamp down on the fake dick, your body jerking as you gush and squirt around the silicone coating it in your creamy slick. The sight of your release coating the fake cock and the sheets underneath you has Simon spurting thick hot ropes of cum all over his chest.

“Fuck.” You pant, as you lay still on the bed tryna catch your breath.

“Thank you to whoever sent me this, I'll definitely use it again.” You chuckle, sitting yourself up to look at the camera again giving it a smile. Slowly viewers started to trickle out, until only a few remained allowing Simon to finally talk to you.

“That was so fuckin’ hot, you did so good takin’ that cock, you made me cum all over myself, luvie<3”

“Why thank you, it was a challenge.” You confessed.

“Maybe some practice on a proper cock would make next time easier, doll<3”

“Maybe you’re right.” You smirk “Is this you offering?” You question.

#Scoobywrites #cod #call of duty #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod simon riley #call of duty simon riley #simon riley cod #simon riley call of duty #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #cod ghost #call of duty ghost #ghost #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod x reader #smut #f reader

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fatherbrat · 8 months ago

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LET'S SNEAK, AOT MULTI

sum. various aot boys and how they fuck you while trying to keep your relationship a secret. inspired by lyrics from sneak by leon thomas :p

feat. eren jaeger. jean kirstein. connie springer. armin arlert.

cw. cheating/infidelity, missionary & doggy, face-sitting, a nasty blowjob, praise, riding/cowgirl, creampie, office sex, risky sex, hold the moan, reader has multiple orgasms, some angst if you squint, not proofread...

wc. 2.7k

EREN JAEGER “can i fuck you in the daytime, daytime? even though that pussy isn’t mine.”

Eren’s moral compass is a bit skewed.

But you wouldn’t dare tell him that. He’d only throw it right back in your face, claiming you're worse. You’re the one with a boyfriend after all. He’s single. Technically.

“Where’s the boyfriend?” Eren asks as soon as he crosses the threshold into your home. He doesn’t bother waiting for a response before pulling his shirt off.

You close the front door behind you and sigh. “He’s out of town. Look…” You hesitate, not really wanting to finish your sentence, even though you know it’s long overdue.

Eren turns to look at you, one eyebrow raised. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown a conscience.” He doesn’t sound annoyed, or even surprised. More like…intrigued. Regardless, the words make you wince.

“He wants to take me to meet his parents,” you tell him, avoiding eye contact.

Eren lets out a whistle. There’s a moment of silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts, before you hear the sound of Eren unzipping his pants.

You stare at him. “What are you doing?”

He smirks. “I’m already here. Might as well go out with a bang.”

You don’t bother wasting any time pretending you weren’t hoping he’d say that. You strip, and almost immediately you’re pressed against a wall. Eren kisses you in a way that can only be described as needy, like he’s taking extra and stowing it away for later.

His hands are everywhere, squeezing and caressing and memorizing.

When he lays you down on the sofa, you aren’t expecting him to plant his tongue between your thighs.

“Eren–”

“Shhh,” he whispers, lifting his head to meet your eyes. “This is the last time, right?” He waits for you to nod before continuing. “Let me savor it.”

He makes surprisingly quick work of making you come and kisses you right after so you can taste yourself on his lips. When he fucks you he does it slowly, agonizingly, eyes glued to your face as he watches your lips part when he bottoms out.

Your nails dig into his back. “Eren, don’t tease,” you huff. “Faster.”

He smiles down at you, shaking his head slightly. “You’re so impatient,” he says, clicking his tongue. “What happened to letting me savor it?”

You squirm beneath him. “Fuck savoring. Fuck me.”

Eren doesn’t need to hear you say it twice. He picks up the pace, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as he grabs your waist.

“Gonna miss this pussy,” he breathes against your skin. The way he says it is tender, a stark contrast to the rough way he pounds you. You wonder, just for a second, if he really means that he’s going to miss you.

But Eren can see your mind wandering. He taps your cheek.

“Hey. Pay attention. You haven’t come enough times to start losing your mind already.”

His eyes narrow as he takes in the sourness of your expression, unimpressed by his statement.

He huffs and pulls out. “Turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn around and get on all fours.”

You frown but comply. He rests one hand flat against your back, pushing you down into the perfect arch before he prods your slit with the tip of his cock.

“Gonna make you see stars,” he mutters, before burying himself inside you.

And he does. His rhythm is dizzying, and it has you biting into the couch cushions, groaning with every stroke.

His arm wraps around your hips so he can lay his hand flat on your lower belly. When he travels lower and starts to circle your clit, all the muscles in your core tighten. He doesn’t slow down when you reach your climax. In fact, you think he goes faster.

“Fuck, Erennn,” you whine, dragging out the last consonant of his name as you dig your fingernails into your palm.

“I know, I know. Takin’ me so well. One more.”

You try to remember what he’d always say, something about good girls coming in threes, or maybe third time’s the charm. Something that meant he’d always make you come three times before leaving. It’s hard to think of what it was when you can hear him slamming against your ass.

He draws out the third one in no time, calling you his good girl as you moan into the sofa.

It’s bittersweet when he pulls out, and you wish he would make you come in fives or something. Eren gives you a look that tells you he can tell what you’re thinking.

He presses his lips to your forehead as he pulls his pants on and you can sense the goodbye in it.

“Take care of yourself, mkay? I’ll see you around.”

You watch him leave, wondering if you’ll see him for real.

JEAN KIRSTEIN “know you wanna keep this thing discreet. hear you calling through the streets.”

You’ve molded Jean into the perfect fuck buddy.

He’ll drop everything to come over the minute you text, doesn’t spread your business around, and always makes you come first.

“Right there, right there, fuck.” You grind against his face, throwing your head back as your grip around the headboard tightens.

Jean hums into your pussy as you orgasm, grazing his teeth against your clit as you ride it out.

Your body goes limp and he swiftly comes out from underneath you, laying you down on the bed gently as he peppers kisses across your skin.

“I’m gonna grab you some water,” he says, not waiting for a response before leaving your room.

You watch him go, a small smile sitting on your face. He’s become so attuned to you, always at your beck and call, willing to cater to you in any way you ask.

It’s the kind of behavior that makes you want to suck his dick.

So, when he returns from the kitchen holding a glass of ice water, you ask him.

“Do you wanna throat fuck me?”

Jean freezes, staring at you like you’ve grown a second head. You suppose you have—it’s been nine months since the two of you started fucking and you have yet to go down on him (not that he’s ever complained). Still, you’d be offended at the look he’s giving you if it weren’t for the obvious erection growing in his pants.

You tilt your head to the side, eyeing his crotch before meeting his gaze. “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” he answers quickly, suddenly unfrozen and eager. He places the glass on your dresser, slipping out of his sweatpants and moving towards you.

Jean watches you roll off the bed and onto the floor, sitting up on your knees and looking at him with an expression that almost makes him dizzy.

Something feverish blazes in his eyes when he stands in front of you, and you have to work to keep the excitement off your face when he tugs down his boxers.

He strokes his cock idly, watching you look up at him. “You sure?”

This time you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. “I’m sure.”

He taps his dick on your lips, tentatively, and you open up. He shudders when you run your tongue along the underside of his tip.

Jean cradles your head in his hands as he pushes himself all the way into your mouth. There’s a shaky inhale from him when he hits the back of your throat.

“Oh shit,” he breathes.

You close your lips around him, hollowing out your cheeks, and something in him snaps.

The speed at which he thrusts into your mouth is almost violent, and he moans when you gag, the pads of his fingertips pressing harder into your scalp. He’s already sensitive from being rock hard the whole time you sat on his face, and his sloppy in-and-out, in-and-out motion drags your spit everywhere–your face, his pelvis, even your chest.

The feeling of him hitting your throat makes your eyes water, and you feel him growing impossibly harder against your tongue when you look up at him with glassy eyes.

He doesn’t last long, not with you looking at him like that. He’s mumbling an apology as he fills your mouth, saying if you weren’t so perfect he would’ve lasted longer. You’re grinning as you swallow down his cum, watching how his eyebrows furrow as he looks at your neck, and he kneels down to kiss you immediately.

When he pulls away, he’s looking at you with a soft sort of wonder. Admiration almost. A bashful smile pulls at his lips.

“Can we do that again?”

CONNIE SPRINGER “she like rich niggas, i’m her type. bored at the crib, she tryna pipe.”

conniiieee come over, im bored ;)

Connie smiles to himself when he reads your texts, his dick nearly stirring to life at the implication of your messages.

Despite your agreement to keep your… situation lowkey, he always pulls up to your apartment complex on his motorcycle, practically alerting the masses that he’s about to come upstairs and rock your shit.

You meet him at your front door, scowling. “Why do you always show up on that loud ass bike? I know you have a car now.”

Connie just smiles, scooting around you to come inside. “You keeping tabs on me, baby?”

You roll your eyes and kick the door shut. “Sasha won’t stop raving about how cool it is.” You do air quotes around the word ‘cool,’ trying to imitate the lilt in Sasha’s voice when she talks about it.

Connie drops his motorcycle helmet on the shoe rack by the door. “It is cool. If you’d stop being so stubborn and take me back I could take you for a ride.”

But there’s really only one kind of ride you’re interested in right now! Which is how you end up straddling him on the couch, pressing kisses into the side of his neck.

Connie’s hands rest loosely on your hips, letting you grind against him as slowly as you want. Your breathing is shaky, sweat coating your skin, a byproduct of the last four orgasms. You lift yourself off him on trembling legs, higher and higher until just the head of Connie’s cock remains inside you. You catch his eyes briefly, and the mirth swimming in them is the only warning you have for what he does next.

His fingers tighten their grip on your hips, tugging you back down on his cock harshly. A strangled sound escapes you, air catching in your throat with the sudden movement.

“Con-”

He kisses you, cutting you off as he bounces you up and down.

“Last one, mama,” he says against your lips.

You can feel an ache in your legs from them being bent underneath you for so long, your head is fogged up with leftover pleasure, and there’s a pressure building up deep in your stomach. This is why you keep letting him come over all these months after your breakup. He knows just how to wear you out.

Connie pulls you against him, chest to chest, and wraps his arms around you. He lets you rest your forehead against his as his cock brushes up against your g-spot, forcing moans out of you that can only be described as wanton.

“That’s it, baby. Nobody fucks you like this, huh?”

You shake your head, your nose nudging his. “Just you.”

Connie practically purrs in satisfaction, right before he comes inside you. You melt against him, the pressure in your abdomen releasing as you cry out. Connie’s lips sweep across your jaw, patient and gentle while he waits for you to come down.

When you do, he leans back, eyelids heavy with contentment. You can feel him softening inside you. You already know what he’s about to say just based on the expression he’s wearing, but you wait for him to ask before giving the same response you always do.

“Y’know we could do that all the time if you’d take me back.” He doesn’t sound as heartbroken as he used to, like he’s grown used to this back-and-forth the two of you have going on.

You give him a wry smile, wiping beads from the back of your neck. “We didn’t break up because the sex was bad, Connie.”

He kisses you then, soft and lingering. “Worth a shot.”

He cleans you up and you let him take a shower and rummage through your drawers for the few pieces of clothing you never returned to him. When he’s leaving, he throws a wink your way, picking up his motorcycle helmet with one hand and unlocking the door with the other.

"Text again soon, alright? Love you."

ARMIN ARLERT “always down for an afternoon delight, but i can never crash and spend the night.”

“We have to stop,” you whisper halfheartedly, tangling your fingers in Armin’s hair as he kisses you.

Armin smiles against your lips. “Why?” he asks, his hands traveling down the length of your pencil skirt. He starts kissing down your neck, mouth going lower and lower until his fingers reach the hem of your skirt.

He pulls your skirt up over your ass, letting it bunch up around your waist. You giggle when he turns you around and gently presses your cheek against the door.

“I’ll get fired if HR finds out,” you say, arching your back as he pulls down your underwear. Your wet cunt feels a rush of cool air when he does, and you gasp when Armin plunges his fingers in. You feel the weight of his chin on your shoulder as he presses his chest against your back.

“But she’s so wet,” he whispers in your ear. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like that HR could find out.”

You neither confirm nor deny, just humming and wiggling your bare ass in response.

He chuckles, the sound traveling straight down to your core. Armin doesn’t give any warning before he slips himself inside you. He pulls you away from the door after the fact, covering your mouth with one hand and wrapping the other arm around your waist.

The hardest thing (other than Armin) about keeping your lunch “meetings” secret is the fact that neither of you are particularly quiet. Armin muffles your moans with his hand and muffles his own by biting into the junction of your neck and your shoulder. There’s nothing to be done about the sound of his hips slapping against your ass or his cock sliding in and out of your pussy. All the two of you can do is hope nobody comes back from lunch early and walks past the copy room on the fourth floor.

(But anyways, where’s the fun in it without a little risk.)

You moan into Armin’s hand when he hits a particular spot and he slows. He uses the hand on your face to tug your head back. “So noisy,” he says, lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. “I know you want the whole office to hear, but don’t be so obvious.”

Your walls clench around him and he hisses, picking up the pace once more.

“You like thinking about our coworkers hearing you?” You shake your head, but the way your pussy squeezes him proves you to be a bold-faced liar.

Armin’s teeth graze your shoulder, his breath hitching as his hips lose their rhythm.

“Go ahead then,” he whispers against your skin. “Let them hear.” He moves his hand from your mouth and loosely wraps his fingers around your neck instead.

Another moan threatens to escape you, but you refuse, rolling your lips between your teeth in an attempt to keep quiet.

Armin bites you then, and you gasp loudly. His thrusts become careless as he frantically chases his own orgasm. He brings his hand back up to your face, this time slipping two fingers between your lips and pressing down on your teeth so you can’t close your mouth.

You can hear the faint sound of footsteps that signal the end of your lunch break. A door opens, and voices become audible as your coworkers get closer.

Armin smacks your ass, hard, and it’s enough to pull you over the edge. The two of you come together, him sinking his teeth into your skin to suppress his own moans. You bite down on his fingers, but it does little to help. You’re positive the entire office can hear you screaming his name.

(づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡

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kenpachissluut · 1 month ago

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⋆. 𐙚 ̊ having an affair with Uncle!Sukuna ᥫ᭡

Uncle!Sukuna who picks you and yuji up whenever you are going to a student party. He also drives you home since you are Yuji‘s best friend and because he likes you more than he admits.

Uncle!Sukuna who tries to stay away from you and to treat you just like Yuji‘s friend but fails miserably. He really has the hots for you and sneaks always glances at you, especially when you are wearing a skimpy skirt showing off your juicy thighs.

Uncle!Sukuna who pulls you into the hallway, putting his big hand over your shocked mouth to tell you to stay silent or else yuji hears. He surprises you then with a deep, intense sloppy kiss, his hands roaming all over your youthful soft body as he couldn’t resist it anymore.

Uncle!Sukuna who sits in the morning on his couch, drinking his coffee and reading the newspaper. Best part? His reading glasses. They look so sexy and nerdy on him, even though he wears them to read better he still has to narrow his eyes lol. It takes all your willpower to not pounce on him right there and then.

Uncle!Sukuna who pretends going grocery shopping just to meet up with you at your dorm. Finally releasing the primal beast you unleashed within. He pounds your innocent pussy without any mercy, strong veiny hands holding your small body in place while he takes what he wanted for so damn long.

Uncle!Sukuna who gives only you a special treatment from Yuji’s friends. Poor Yuji is too dumb to understand or even care. He always buys your favorite snacks or drinks when he knows you are staying over and even if you are not, he keeps sum of it there just in case you show up.

Uncle!Sukuna who pretends that there can’t be anything serious between you, but deep down he really catched feelings for you. Seeing your pretty face all day everyday at his home, seeing you all flustered while he flirts with you bluntly. God you just make his heart beat even faster without noticing.

Uncle!Sukuna who pulls you into the bathroom where he waits for you with a throbbing, hard length ready to be sucked. He loves seeing you all submissively on your knees, diligently working on his fat cock while looking pretty as fuck. He would love to push you deep down on his cock, but he knows you are still inexperienced so he‘s being a gentle giant with you.

Uncle!Sukuna who loves watching you ride his fat cock. So that’s why he let’s you just bounce up and down on his hard length, glistening wet with all your sweet juices until he can’t help but shoot his load into you. Good you are on birth control.

Uncle!Sukuna who has an massive Size Kink. He loves seeing your small, youthful body on top of him riding him like there’s no tomorrow. Or being all vulnerable underneath him like a small little flower who is ready to be crushed.

Uncle!Sukuna who‘s favorite position is Full nelson. Holding you all together in one piece by his strong beefy arms without any real effort, seeing you fall apart on his fat cock. Tears streaming your pretty face down and whimpers escaping your lips while he pistons into you roughly until he coates your walls completely white.

Uncle!Sukuna who gets secretly jealous when you sleep over in yuji‘s room. But of course he acts like he isn’t jealous, just for the sake of his nephew not finding out. Deep down he just hopes Yuji doesn’t make an wrong move on you.

Uncle!Sukuna who took your innocence away. Finding yourself one night in his room while Yuji was at a Party by himself. Sukuna was very gentle with you and took his sweet time. Gentle kisses, soft strokes and especially slow but intense thrusts to not hurt you or make you uncomfortable at your first time.

Uncle!Sukuna who eats your pussy out like it’s his last meal on earth. Gods he sucks slowly onto your clit, then he teases it with his tongue and in the next moment his tongue is fucking your core relentlessly. Slurping all your juices off, making his face all messy until you squirt all over his face.

Uncle!Sukuna who spanks your little ass when he notices you flirting with other guys. He finds it incredibly amusing that you think he would be jealous about so immature boys like them. He knows he‘s a grown mature man and they could never stand a chance with him. But he has to spank you anyway so you learn your lesson for being a brat.

Kenpachissluut writes ⋆. 𐙚 ̊

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astrasng · 2 months ago

Text

i like them pathetic. || kim mingyu +18

you don't even have to move a muscle just please baby i-

mingyu nearly stutters as he drops to his knees, his hands slowly snaking around to the back of your kness, his big hands massaging your flesh on your thighs as he looks up at your with glistening puppy eyes. you furrow your eyebrows slightly at his whining, not having enough energy after a tiring day to deal with his dramatics.

but then you look down at his slightly trembling,parted lips as he holds back the urge to lick it just from merely looking at you. he has been craving you all day like a dog in heat, wanting nothing more than just to find home in your warm, wet cunt. the minute you stepped inside your apartment you heard noises coming from the bedroom, thinking the worst that mingyu is in pain.

well indeed he is, just not how you think.

catching mingyu rutting against your pillow, holding it so close to his clothed crotch that even that minimal friction has him moaning and groaning into the thin air. his shirt long forgotten, glistening and tanned skin on display, his heavy breathing making his chest go up and down rapidly. and when he sees you? his head throws back, hanging off the bed, a lazy smile on his lips appearing as he dazily moans -

baby, you're finally home ~

that's when you want to shake your head, but it never comes. the scene infront of you has you in shock, snapping mingyu back to reality to try and talk to you into helping him out. he crawls to your feet, and now as you scan his figure arching towards you more and more, like he's gravitating to your body automatically makes you bite your lip.

i've been using your pillow to help myself but --- but it's nearly not as good as you... mingyu closes his eyes as he puts his forehead on your thighs, his hands sneaking up slowly to feel you up under your work skirt. i just -- i need you so bad baby, do you think you can help me?

at this point your hand is burried in his soft, brown hair, pulling it slightly back so he can look into your eyes. baby, i'm really tired, and besides, do you think you've been good enough to deserve my help? mingyu's eyes turn teary, his irises only focused on you as he realizes the heavy words you're saying. panic sets in into him, pulling you suddenly closer to his body by your knees. his fingers caress the skin on your ass, dangerously closing to your heated core which throbs only for him.

please -- please, I promise I'll be -- I'll be your good boy ~

and those are the words what got you here where you are, kneeling on the bed next to mingyu as he follows your every move with his big eyes.you don't waste any more time, pouring lube onto his pinkish tip and smearing it all the way down to the ring. rolling down a vibrating cock ring around his shaft,mingyu takes a sharp breath at the new sensation and closes his eyes momenteraly, accomodating the cold toy against him. feels good gyu? you ask sheepishly, seeing his expression already beyond the clouds. he whimpers as you drag your hand around his cock, stirring it more awake with a few strokes.

mingyu's breathy moans has you grinding against nothing, him noticing your little moves making him grab your hips and trying to sit you on his lap. baby i see you want me too, please i-

but you stop him by putting your hands on his chest, pushing him down on the bed as you kneel above his crotch. as you shake your head, you slowly drag his long forgotten fleshlight he used often before you two started dating, showing it to him teasingly.

y-you don't mean to use that, right? disbelief sets on his face the longer he realizes what you're about to do, a slight panic disturbing his nerves. you sheepishly smile at him, a small scoff leaving your mouth.

what else would i be using, huh? tilting your head to the side you drag the silicone toy against his thick veins popping out on his pretty, wet cock like it's a sight everyone should see,and scanning mingyu's reactions at the new material. he takes a breath as his eyes now follow the toy, dirty thoughts filling his mind already the longer you make him wait.

well i-i meant what i said, i need you. he tries to squirm away from the sligh touches, knowing how pathetic he looks from a mere sensation on his dick. i need you baby, not some toy-

his words caught in his throat when you suddenly drag his cock through the seethrough toy, a breathy moan leaving his lips immedietly. his whole upper body is shining in a thin layer of sweat, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he tries to gather the words once again.

the squelching noises bring you to a slow haze, seeing him losing the battle as you drag the silicone up and down his cock slowly, and scrutiatingly. just enough to have him panting your name while his hands are gripping your hips hardly, leaving behind his big handprints on your body. did you really think you deserve me, after this little outburst you had?

mingyu shakes his head a little as you speed your hand up, small amount of lube on his cock spilling on his lap and around the toy, his moans and groans getting louder by the minute.

me coming home after a long day, seeing you fucking yourself on my pillow? your tone is harsher this time, speeding up again as you see him falling apart slowly from your words and actions.

i - i swear i was wishing it was y-you instead..

he trembles, his body squirming under you slightly as he tries to run away from the ecstasy he's having. the euphoria catching up to him when you let out a laugh, your warm hands touching his chest teasingly.

of course you were, baby. you whisper the honey like words into his ears, your other hand caressing his cheeks as you see a tear rolling down. you push another level up the vibrating toy, wanting to see more, feel more. his mouth agapes at that, your finger swiping at his bottom lip while pressing kisses on his neck.

you jerk the toy up and down on him more agressivaly, his cock now sitting between your bodies, his tip pointing towards his stomach. using the opportunity you pull yourself away from mingyu, scanning his collapsed body seconds away from climaxing. but like a lost puppy, he grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you back to his chest, now only a breath away from your lips.

f-fuck,baby, if i've only known you'd be this turned on. he pants, a small smirk painting his face, his hips bucking into the toy more and more, until he feels himself completely lost to the intoxication. his body melts into you completely, hips jerking and grinding against you as white ropes of cum ooze out from his tip, coating his abs and the toy altogether.

he chuckles lowly, his chest heaving up and down as he comes down from his high and looks up at you once again. you furrow your eyebrows at his sudden change of behavior.

like a snap of a finger, he has you under him, panting and smile down at you devilishly. let's use this little somethin' together, yeah? mingyu says as he grabs his still vibrating cock and jerks it a few times before prodding it at your entrance.

who deserves who now?

a/n: this was HEAVILY inspired by the viral audio where josh hutcherson begs to someone.and i thought of mingyu. bye.

@ astrasng 2025

⋮ do not copy, translate, steal, or modify without permission! ⋮

#kpop #seventeen #kim mingyu #seventeen mingyu #seventeen smut #seventeen scenerios #seventeen hard hours #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #mingyu hard hours #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu smut

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thedevilsoftruth · 2 months ago

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What you need

J. B. Barnes x F! Reader

Sum: Bucky comes home from a mission, and doesn't even make it past the door without you already pouncing on him ♡

Warning: Smut!!! 2k words of pure and utter filth. Thigh riding if you squint, married relationship, riding, missionary, creampie, piv sex (don't try this at home,) lots of kissing, reader is very very desperate and needy. NOT beta read.

A/n: Shitty ass short ass thing I wrote at midnight because progesterone goes crazy and I need to ride New Avengers Bucky. Goodnight.

18+ content up ahead. MDNI!!!

[ my marvel request box is back open. please see my pinned post for more information regarding my request rules. ]

He doesn't even get to set his keys down before you were on him.

You throw yourself into him so hard you knock him against the front door. Your arms are around his neck, forcing him to bend down to your height as you stand on your tip-toes and attack his face with kisses. He's so caught off guard that his eyes don't close as he tries to keep up with your kisses.

"Oh--Hi baby. Hi. Hi." He murmurs against your lips as you kiss him like a wild animal, your lips kissing every inch of his skin, leaving faint pink marks behind from your lipgloss. His hands lay at your hips, fingers curiously threading through the lace of the lavender panties you were wearing under your babydoll bra.

"How are you?" He tries to ask but you growl, pinning him to the door with your hand on his chest and your lips on his jaw.

"I cleaned the house." You nearly whine, your voice coming off as needy. "Mopped the floor, cleaned the stove, did the dishes, baked your favorite cheesecake." You continued, kissing the facial hair on his face that sprinkled down to his neck. Fuck, he was outgrowing his beard and his hair again, and fuck, you needed him so bad.

"I did the laundry--and fuck, James, I even cleaned the car." You told him, mouthing at the crook of his neck, your hands flying anywhere, touching every part of him like it was the last time you'd be seeing him. Bucky groaned and pulled his head back from you a bit.

"Baby, baby." He muttered, leaning back and putting his hands on your cheeks lovingly. You had this look in your heavy lidded eyes, a look that told him you were beyond the point of no return. "Slow down, what's up with you?"

It didn't take long for you to get mad and pull him back down onto you. Your fingers curled into the soft green fabric of his henley and you growled at him like you were mad at him. You backed up until you hit the couch. Bucky's eyebrows were knitted, confused as he tried to read you. His hands on your hips were restricting you from falling back like you wanted to.

"Need you so bad, James, please. Push me onto the couch?" You begged him, mouthing at the corner of his mouth, his beard scratching your skin. You nuzzled your face into his facial hair, earning a confused groan from your husband.

"Baby, where is all of this coming from--"

You cut him off with another kiss. Your tongue quickly slipped into his mouth, and the both of you moaned. His hands slipped down to your ass, gently cupping your flesh into his hands and making you gasp into his mouth. Shockwaves were sent through your body, along with a particular warmth spreading to your core. Given the way your tongue was moving around his, you needed him bad. So, he gave in.

Gently, he placed his hands on your shoulders and pushed you back onto the couch. You feel back with a surprised grunt, the couch creaking loudly as you hit the black leather cushions. You panted, bracing yourself on your elbows as you watched your husband crawl onto the couch and up your body.

The sight had your pussy aching. His long brown hair was falling into his face, and the smile on his wet lips was absolutely sinful. Your thighs pressed together, but he was quicker. He pulled them apart fast and harsh, making you gasp.

"Poor baby." He crooned, kissing your inner thigh. "Left you alone too long." He kissed higher that time. "You missed me so bad, didn't you, honey?"

You were gasping, nodding your head along frantically as you looked down at him, curious as to what he was going to do.

"Mm I know you did." He said, his mouth coming into contact with your dripping core through your soaked through panties. "This pretty little pussy tells me so anyway."

He mouthed at the fabric, his lips brushing through the tiny wet spot on it. You made a little noise at it, your hands shooting to his head, your fingers threading through his long hair.

Your voice came out in a pathetic little plea that had him twitching through his boxers. He swallowed thickly, kissed your cunt one more time, then rose up your body like the sun on a Saturday morning.

"James," you moaned, tugging at his scalp. He looked up at you and hummed. "Please fuck me. I need it so bad, baby."

His leg nestled between your thick things, his knee nudging right where you needed him most. His arms were braced by the sides of your face, and he was looking down at you with a blank, stern face than had your thighs clenching around his thigh.

"Beg." He said, his knee nudging your cunt. You mewled, your head falling back weakly. Your hips bucked, and moved without your permission, and your cunt dragged across the denim of his jeans.

"Alright," he said. "Show me how much you missed me."

"Please, baby." You cried, clawing at his sleeved forearms with big eyes. "Missed you so much. Just need your cock in me so bad, Bucky." You were breathless, grinding against his thick, muscular thigh helplessly like it was the only fucking thing keeping you alive. He looked down at your little movements and grinned.

He sat back on his knees, quick hands working to discard the black leather belt around his waist like it was only an obstacle in his way of getting to his goal. The second the belt was off, you were on him. Your panties were off in almost an instant, and you were straddling his lap faster than you could say the word 'go.'

Bucky placed his hands on your hips, watching carefully as you lowered yourself onto his thick, heavy cock, which you stood up with the palm of your hand. The both of you groaned as he entered you fully, stretching you out completely to accommodate his length.

You were moving immediately, rolling your hips across his lap at a controlled pace that wasn't exactly fast but wasn't slow either. His hands stayed on your hips to keep you balanced, and your hands stayed on his shoulders for extra support.

"Yeah, that's right, honey." He moaned back into your ear, his hands sliding down to your ass to cup your flesh into his large hands. You squealed, the sensation urging you on. You removed your face from his neck, and you sped up, bouncing on your husband fat cock like a bitch in fucking heat. In a way, you were. You just couldn't stop clinging onto him like you were scared someone was going to take him from you.

"Oh fuck." You moaned, almost directly into his ear as you lowered your face onto his shoulder, your pace speeding up by just a tad. Usually, Bucky spent hours with just foreplay, but tonight, you seemed to have the upper hand and we're straight to the point. He was almost shocked by it.

"Ride me, pretty girl." He growled into your ear, spanking your ass and making you audibly yelp. "Just like that, honey. You missed this? Hmm?" He questioned as if he already didn't have the answer right in front of him. You closed your eyes and moaned gutteraly, your head lulling back as you moved up and down on his lap.

"I thought about it too, baby." He agreed, lowering his head to look down at where your bodied we're combined.

"Yeah--yeah. Fuck! Mm-thought about it everyday you were gone." You admitted between gasps and moans. Bucky just chuckled deeply, finding the answer amusing.

Sweet, lewd, loud, wet and utterly obscene little gushy noises were echoed throughout your bedroom as you rode him like a goddamned rodeo. The little noises combined with little noises the two of you made with your mouths, was a recipe for your pussy squirting all over him.

You grabbed his shoulders then, slowly as to not hurt yourself, lowered yourself all the way down onto your husbands cock until you hit the hilt. His cockhead brushed against a particular sweet spot in you, and you straight up whimpered and threw your head on his shoulders once again, moaning loudly as you slowly fucked yourself into that spot with his cock.

"James," you panted.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Take over, please." You moaned, palming your breast lightly. He grinned, giving you that kind of look that read, "I thought you'd never ask," and in an instant, you were flipped back on your back and he was already back on fucking you.

Bucky pulled out of you just a couple inches before he slammed back into you, making you cry out and claw at his forearms like you would die if you didn't. Chants of his name left your lips like a goddamn mantra. The couch creaked and moved slightly under your moving bodies, joining with your panting and little wet sounds of his cock pushing into you.

"Oh, fuck, sugar." He moaned, rough and gutteral. "Little pussy's squeezing me so tight. Oh, poor thing needed my cock in her so bad, hmm?"

He pulled back a bit, just to pin your knees to your chest, folding you in half and making you feel ten time more embarrassed and exposed than you already were. The new position made it easy for him to sink deeper into you, and deeper he went. So deep that your mouth flew open in shock and you swore your vision went white for a moment.

"Greedy little thing, especially this pussy." He groaned, smiling down on you devilishly and making your pussy flutter. He leaned down and captured your lips in a heated kiss, making you whimper and whine into his mouth as he thrust into you hard and fast.

"Keep up, pretty girl." He said, leaning down to kiss your neck. Your head lulled back into the cushion of the couch and your vision blurred into the ceiling.

"You begged for this." He reminded, letting your legs fall back down so he could rub your clit with a vibranium middle finger. You gasped, and your walls clamped down on him tight. He groaned.

"You gonna cum soon, gorgeous?"

"Oh fuck, there she is." He laughed darkly, tilting his head. You closed your eyes and moaned loudly, your heels scraping his back, your nails digging into his shoulder blades.

His voice rang in your ears like a sweet melody, but all you could focus on mentally was how fucking amazing it finally felt to be dicked down by him like this after so long. The sex was so good that you wanted to cry.

"Yeah," you breathed. His finger rubbed harsh circles into your tiny little button, making you moan so loud that it almost sounded pornographic. His cock twitched, and your drooling pussy throbbed for more friction--more anything.

The words fell from your lips in a sweet, broken plead.

"Yeah, gonna cum soon." You repeated, opening your eyes to lock with his. "Want--want you to cum.. in-inside."

And then something snapped in the both of you, and you found yourself gripping his shoulders tight and holding your breath as you slowly started pouring down on him like milky raindrops.

Bucky looked down at the little white ring forming around his thick cock, and moaned. You came gushing out on him warm and messy. The both of you were moaning and panting, but he didn't stop. He kept fucking into you slowly, rocking his fat cock into your sobbing pussy--in and out, in and out, until he finally lost control and a thick, hot stream of his cum came spurring into your warmth.

You mewled at the intoxicating sensation of him filling you, and a few seconds later, he was collapsing onto the cushion next to you and spooning you against his broad chest.

The room was silent for several minutes while the both of you tried to catch your breath, but once he had decided he was fine, he leaned into you and chuckled, "we haven't done that in a while."

#thunderbolts bucky #thunderbolts bucky smut #bucky #bucky smut #bucky x f!reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #marvel mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #marvel smut #mcu smut

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