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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 4 months

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14: CRICKET & BUCKY

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST

Bucky plans your first date, but it doesn't quite go according to plan.

Word count 5.2k

Warnings: first dates, explicit sexual content, Bucky Barnes ... still a warning

It was strange, waking up in a room far away from everyone you knew and loved. It's not that you lived that far from your friends, it's just that it felt like a chasm. But this had been your choice. May made you feel very welcome at the Academy and you got to work with kids who had powers from a young age, helping them to understand their physiology and giving them the opportunity to explore what they were capable of in a controlled environment. Needless to say, you loved it.

Bucky had been very attentive to you, bringing you food and keeping you company, driving you to your physical therapy. You had gotten the impression from Sam that he refused every mission that Tony and Steve asked him to take part in. The other Avengers all visited but they had their own lives and work to attend to, but you saw Bucky every day. As you regained your strength, he accompanied you on your daily walks to maintain some baseline level of fitness. Sometimes you were bold enough to hold his hand while you walked. And he would always leave you with such intimate kisses. To your frustration, they never seemed to progress to anything more than a goodbye and you were beginning to wonder if he would ever want anything more.

One day, the two of you were hanging out in the middle of the day, watching a movie, cuddling on your couch. You'd recovered well and been assessed by the S.H.I.E.L.D. medical teams and deemed fit for any duty you wished to carry out.

Even though you'd been cleared and gone back to work, Bucky insisted on helping you out with everything and frankly, it was grating on your nerves. You were certainly not made of glass and he was treating you like you might break at any second. Luckily for you, Steve was ever the loyal friend, even if he had no idea what he was doing. He descended on your new abode demanding Bucky's participation on a mission which clearly would benefit from his expertise.

“Come on, Bucky. This is important.”

“Then you do it,” Bucky replied sullenly. “I’m staying here with Cricket.”

“Oh for crying out loud, Buck!” you exploded. “Are you shitting me right now?”

Bucky and Steve froze with surprise, both their blue eyes wide and staring at you.

“Just go!” you pointed your hand at the door. “Help Steve.”

A flash of uncertainty and hurt flickered across his face. It disappeared so fast that you wondered if you had imagined it. Bucky shuffled forward to the edge of the couch seat from his place beside you. “Will you be okay?”

“I’m perfectly fine, Bucky.”

“You want me to go?” he asked, quietly, avoiding your gaze.

“Bucky… I want… I need you to understand what I’m not… going to break. I’m okay, Buck.” You sat forwards too and put your hand to his face. “Thank you for taking care of me, but I don’t need that now.”

“You’ve always been the one to take care of me, I just…”

“And I love you for that, Buck. But you need to go, do the things you need to do. Help your friends, your teammates. They need you more than I do right now.”

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" Bucky asked, a playful smirk on his face as he leaned in closer to you.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the fluttering in your stomach at his proximity. You moved off the couch and slid into Bucky’s lap, your face barely an inch from his. "No, I just think you should go with Steve to work today."

Bucky pouted, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "But I'd much rather spend the day with you, darling."

You couldn't help but blush at his words. Bucky had been your best friend for such a long time now but for the first time since you’d confessed your feelings there was a tension in the air, a feeling that something more was brewing beneath the surface.

You cleared your throat, looking over at Steve and trying to push down the butterflies in your stomach. "We both know that it’s time for you to go back to work."

It was cute how uncomfortable it was for Steve, being present for this conversation between you, seeing Bucky flirting so shamelessly with you.

Bucky's smile faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered, his charm back in full force. "Of course, Cricket.”

You shook your head, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing in your chest. "I think it's best if you go with Steve."

Bucky sighed dramatically, but he finally relented. "Fine, fine. I'll go with Steve. But only because you asked so nicely. But I'll be back as soon as I can."

“You promise?”

Bucky's eyes softened as he looked at you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "Promise."

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth in your chest. "I'll be waiting for you."

“When I’m back, maybe I could take you out on a date? A real date?”

Your face broke out in a huge smile. “I’d like that.”

As Bucky leaned in to kiss you goodbye, the world seemed to fade away. His lips were soft and inviting, and his touch sent shivers down your spine. His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as if he never wanted to let you go. The kiss wasn’t just a sweet chaste peck on the lips, no, it was deep and passionate, filled with a longing that had been building between the two of you for what felt like an eternity. It was as if all the unspoken words and hidden desires were finally being released in that one moment of connection. And then all of a sudden he was gone, as though looking at you would somehow stop him from leaving. You waved at a grinning Steve who followed Bucky down the corridor. Who knew that all it took for things to move forwards was to get Bucky to leave?

The second you closed the door behind them, everything felt quiet, too quiet. Your space which had felt slightly cramped when Bucky was with you suddenly felt empty and cold without his comforting presence. You retreated to the comfort of your couch, wrapping the throw blanket you had been sharing with Bucky around you, breathing in his scent, the traces of his cologne clung to the soft material. Picking up your phone, you sent him a text.

>>>> Miss you already. Come home soon. xx

His response was almost instantaneous, as though he was holding his phone when you sent the message.

Bucky << Miss you too. Make sure you’re ready for our date when I get back. It’s going to be as special as you. Love you. xx

>>>> Love you too, Bucky.

Bucky texted you every chance he got. He had even tried a video chat, only to have Steve snatch his phone away. You caught the Captain glaring at his friend before giving you an apologetic glance and cutting the call. He apologized with his own message to you later, as had Bucky, calling Steve a few impolite names. As the day of Bucky’s return came closer, he messaged you with a time and date for you to prepare for.

When the day finally arrived, you were a nervous wreck. You called Nat and Wanda, desperately begging for their help in choosing your attire. It didn’t help that they spent two hours bickering over what pair of heels would make you look the sexiest. It was only when you took a swig of wine directly from the bottle, did they take their leave, along with access to the liquor. You spent the next two hours alone waiting for Bucky to arrive. He texted you the moment they landed the quinjet and the progress he was making towards making it to your date.

Bucky >> Just landed, Cricket.

Bucky >> Heading to the shower. Don’t want to turn up without. You wouldn’t like it.

Bucky >> Sam says I should wear a jacket, I’m not sure it fits.

Bucky >> Steve agrees. Jacket is a must. I hope you like it.

Bucky >> Tony said if I drive my bike, he will have Friday lockdown the garage.

>>>> Probably best you didn’t, not sure I’ll be able to get on the bike in what I’m wearing.

Bucky >> What’re you wearing?

>>>> Come over and see for yourself.

Bucky >> Soon darling. Nat’s making me change, she says you’ll like this more.

Bucky >> On my way!

You dropped your phone running to the mirror to touch up your makeup and check your hair. It wouldn’t take Bucky long to drive to your apartment. You had been looking forward to this night for a while now and you knew that you and Bucky would have an amazing time. You slipped out of your robe and into the flared dress that Wanda and Nat had settled on. It fitted you like a glove, highlighting all the right curves. The perfect date night ensemble!

You jumped at a knock on the door. As you went to answer the door, you found yourself in a state of butterflies. You hadn't seen him since he left for the mission and every fiber of your being was eager to reunite with him. He was going to take you out and you decided to look your best. And when you opened the door you were blown away by what you saw on the other side. Bucky was standing there in his finest, looking like the hottest guy you had ever seen; dark jeans, a slim fit black shirt with white dots and his favorite leather jacket. You made a mental note to thank Nat for his wardrobe choices.

“Hi,” you greeted him, breathlessly.

“Hey…” He grinned, taking in your appearance, how beautiful you looked. "Ready?”

You blushed under his gaze, accepting the pink rose and lily bouquet he held out to you, swooning over his old fashioned ways. “Thank you, they’re gorgeous.”

“Not as gorgeous as you.”

“Have you always been so charming?”

“Yeah, you just never noticed.” As he spoke, Bucky moved closer and closer towards you. He was only inches away from your face, when he asked, “Ready?”

His body was pressed against yours, his warmth enveloping you in a comforting embrace. Bucky kissed you deeply, his mouth soft yet full, his hands sliding down to wrap around your waist. The taste of his lips was like sweet nectar, intoxicating and addictive. You found yourself melting into his touch, losing yourself in the sensation of being wanted and loved. As the kiss continued, neither of you wanted it to end. It was a moment of pure bliss, a moment where time stood still and all that mattered was the love that you shared. Bucky held you close, his embrace strong and reassuring. It was as if the kiss had been building up inside both of you for a long time, neither one wanting to let it end.

As Bucky pulled away eventually and you laughed, throwing hands up in celebration. “I win!”

Bucky chortled at your response. “Cricket, I don't think you understand. I win every time you look at me, every time you smile, every day that you're beside me is the best day. There will never be a time where you aren’t the most perfect thing in my life. You’re my everything.”

How could you not kiss him again after hearing those words? So you did, desperately, the flowers crushed between your bodies, as yours throbbed with the passion you felt for him in that moment. His arms wrapped around your back, pulling you into him, your mouths pressed together as his energy met yours. The feeling of you against him sent a wave of heat through his body. He held you tight against him, unable to resist the temptation. Your lips were soft and he craved them, the two of you caught up in the long awaited moment.

Taking the lead, you tugged at the collars of his jacket, drawing him into your apartment and fumbled to close the door. Bucky tapped it shut with his foot, lifting you into his arms and letting you drape your legs around his waist. Your arms snaked around his neck, still clutching the floral arrangement. With the door closed, he was far less restrained, his mouth left yours, tracing your neck as his lips played with your soft skin. His hands caressed your back softly, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Bucky,” you moaned.

He smiled at you as your fingers twisted into his hair. He couldn't help but get lost in you so he leaned forwards, his mouth searching for yours. It took only a second for his hand to start exploring your body, letting his fingers roam freely to feel every inch of your soft and supple skin. They trailed down your back and his voice was a husky whisper as he broke from the kiss. “God, I've missed you.”

“I missed you too. Forget what I said, don't go away again.”

“Then let's make up for all the time we lost. I'm never leaving you again.”

“Bedroom, now,” you commanded.

Sergeant Barnes was good at following orders. He marched you across the apartment, hands cupping your ass to hold you up against him, taking the happy opportunity to knead the muscle. He stopped temporarily for you to deposit your now crooked flowers on the dresser before continuing to the bed. He laid you down, getting greedy with the kisses he was giving you. It felt like he wanted to devour all of you. His hand slid up your leg until it reached your hip, hot and cold fingers grazing the bare skin under your dress. His hands stopped temporarily at your hip, just for a moment before they slid up even further under the straps of your panties. His touch made goosebumps erupt on your thighs.

Bucky noticed your reaction and chuckled. He knew exactly how hard his fingers were pressing into you and how you were responding with shivers. He wanted to keep going and his flesh hand came back down to your thigh, rubbing closer and closer to your core. You pushed his jacket off his shoulders, letting it slip off his arms and onto the floor, discarded. Bucky approved of the move with a grin, loving to see you take the lead. His fingers were slowly approaching his final destination now and he wanted to get there soon. He needed it.

You marveled at your body's response to his ministrations. Every inch of you felt like it was on fire, everywhere he touched blazed with excitement and anticipation.

"Everything go okay with your mission?" you asked, making small talk as Bucky pushed his hands between your legs. You felt yourself tense repeatedly in response.

“Everything went fine... It was rough, being away from you, but got through it knowing I got to be here with you at the end of it.” Bucky's words were barely distinguishable, his voice reduced to a low growl with the excitement and tension building inside him. But he stopped for a moment and looked up at you with a look of pure desire.

"I'm glad you're home," you answered breathily, as you feel his arousal pressed against your abdomen.

Bucky smiled down at you, a hint of mischievousness coming into his eyes as his mouth pulled away from yours and moved down to your neck. His fingers rubbed small circles on the sensitive skin at the top of your thigh and he watched as the skin became flushed just from that small movement. You whimpered softly, holding back your moans.

He watched you closely with every caress and touch, the way you flinched and shivered from his movements, feeling your arousal growing by the second. He felt your breath grow deeper, heavier as the circles made with his fingers got faster and faster. Bucky grinned at your reaction, eager to go further. But he could see you holding back and his face softened, seeing you bite your lip to avoid making any noise. Bucky broke away from your neck for a moment to whisper into your ear.

“I want to hear everything... let yourself go, okay? Let loose, for me?” He knew why you were afraid of expressing your desires and he was going to make damn sure that your first time together would be perfect for both of you.

You nodded, flushing. “I want you Bucky. I missed you so bad. Tell me how much you want me?”

Your words made his heart skip a beat, he suddenly felt anxious, torn between wanting to please you and feeling embarrassed about sounding foolish. “Cricket, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this? I don’t want you, darling, I need you. Now…” his eyes darkened dangerously, “tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

“Take off your clothes.” You started unbuttoning his shirt, still kissing him desperately.

He kissed you back eagerly, his mouth moving back in rhythm with your tongue. He pulled away for a brief moment as he helped you unbutton his shirt - his hips still pressed against yours. Then he resumed his kissing as he slipped his arm back under you, pulling you against his bare chest. He pushed the straps off your dress, fumbling with the zipper. But the normally nimble fingered super soldier was having some trouble with the mechanism. As his hands fumbled with the zipper he couldn't help but chuckle. “I'm normally not this bad…” The nerves were starting to set in on his mind and his muscles started to tremble ever so slightly as he realized how close you both are to having each other for the first time. With a frustrated sigh, he gave up on the zip, resuming the exploration of your body through the thin material of your clothing, searching for a weak seam in the dress.

You giggle slightly at his desperation. “Don't you dare rip my dress, Buck,” you cried in warning.

It was almost predatorial, the way he watched you as you made the process easier for him. You rolled slightly in his arms, taking pity on him. It slipped off you like water off a duck’s back and for a moment, all Bucky could do was stare. His eyes drifted down to the curves that were pressed so tightly to his body. He wanted more, he craved it.

As you stood there, feeling the intensity of his gaze on you, a wave of self-consciousness washed over you. His eyes seemed to strip away all your defenses, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. But at the same time, there was something undeniably thrilling about the way he looked at you, as if he could see right through to your soul.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you instructed him to take off his pants. His lips curved into a knowing smile, and you couldn't help but return it, appreciating the sight of his flexing abs and the glisten of sweat on his chest. He reached down, hooking his thumbs into his boxers, and you gave him a little helping hand to push them off his hips.

As the fabric fell to the floor, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him. You gasped quietly at the sight of his erect cock and how it matched the magnificence of his body. A work of art, every muscle defined and sculpted, a testament to the serum that coursed through his veins. But it was more than just his physical appearance that drew you to him. There was a raw, primal energy that seemed to radiate from him, a magnetism that pulled you in and left you breathless. And that was all Bucky.

He stepped closer, his bare skin brushing against yours. You could feel the heat of his body, the strength of his arms as he wrapped them around you again. His hands, hot and cold, felt perfect on your waist. His deep voice was just a whisper as his hands ran over your body, sending shivers down your spine.

"I want to touch everything, I want to worship you," he murmured, his eyes filled with desire. His hands continued their downward trajectory, the speed picking up as he grew more and more excited. There is nothing he wanted more than this moment to be perfect for you.

"What do you want me to do to you?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Nothing. I want to take care of you. I want to make you feel amazing. I want to give you everything I have right now," he replied, his lips brushing against yours. His touch was gentle yet firm, his hands exploring every inch of your body with reverence. You could feel the love and desire radiating from him, and it filled you with a sense of warmth and contentment.

"Bucky, I want you to touch me. I want you to see what you do to me”

As his hands slid lower, you felt a surge of anticipation building within you. His touch was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You closed your eyes, losing yourself in the sensation of his touch, letting yourself be carried away by the love and passion that flowed between you. And you knew that this was where you belonged.

“Dear God, Cricket. Is this really for me?” he asked, dipping his fingers between your folds, coating them carefully in your arousal.

You whimpered softly as he continued to caress you, exulting in the ecstasy. “All for you.”

“Hey Cricket?” he whispered, huskily in your ear.

“Yeah?”

“Talk to me darling. Tell me how it feels. I want to hear you.” He pushed down on your clit with his thumb, gently rubbing circles over it, working his magic on you.

“Please, Bucky,” you moaned, hips pushing into his fingers. “S’good, but not enough. Want you.”

Bucky chuckled darkly. “Are you sure you’re ready, darling?”

Nodding enthusiastically, you answered. “Yes, want you… inside me. Make me feel good. I need to feel every inch of you inside me.”

“You want me? You want this?” He wrapped his vibranium fingers around his shaft, pumping it up and down with long, firm strokes, right in front of your eyes, taunting you with his cock while teasing your clit.

“Yes.”

Bucky shuffled closer, getting comfortable between your thighs. You spread your legs to straddle his hips, opening your entrance to him. He looked down at you, a look of awe frozen on his features.

“Buck?” you asked after a moment of silence.

“Hmm?” he startled out of his reverie.

“You okay?” you asked, gently.

“Yeah,” he huffed a short laugh. “Sorry, just wondering if this was real or just a dream.”

“Let me show you how real this is.” You put your hands over his, helping him guide his cock towards your entrance. Just before you let him penetrate you, you stopped. “Buck, I… do we need a condom?”

“Nat said you have an IUD.” He frowned, pulling something from his memory. “She made me get some tests, when they came back she said I was good to… fuck you raw. Whatever that means.” Bucky blushed, and you suspected he knew exactly what it meant.

You couldn’t contain the laughter that bubbled inside you. It was good to have friends who looked out for you.

“Does that mean we’re good to go?” he asked.

“Yeah, you’re good to go. Just like this.”

The wetness from between your legs mixing with his as he ran his tip between your folds. He grunted with pleasure as your tight walls pressed against him.

“Oh God Buck, so thick,” you mumbled as he pushed into you slowly, letting you adjust and stretch around him.

Carefully he watched your face for signs of pain, surprised at how well you were doing. “You gonna take all of me, darling?” He threaded his fingers between yours, pushing them up above your head, pinning them to the bed.

You watched as your pussy glided over each and every inch of his thick hard cock. “Deeper, that’s it. Shit Buck, you fill me up so well.”

Bucky felt his whole body tense, willing himself not to blow his load into you after hearing you utter those words. “You like that?” he asked, pushing further until he was buried right inside you.

“Yes, si-” you stopped for a moment, but the flash in Bucky's eyes and the throb of his dick between your legs suggested that he liked it.

“Yes?” he asked, expectantly.

“Yes, Serrrrgeant,” you moaned softly as you spoke, bucking your hips up towards him, pushing that last inch into your stretched out pussy.

“Good girl.” He shuddered as you clenched in response to his words. “So perfect.”

You hummed, happily.

“Come on, Cricket. I want you to be as loud as you like. You have no idea how much I want to hear you. Ever since Italy. Do you know how hard I was when you said those things?” he growled, pushing himself deeper inside you. “How much I wanted to be the one who made you moan that way. I haven’t stopped thinking about that since then.”

You were speechless, panting as his cock filled you up, stretching your walls to their limits.

“God it makes me feel so many things when you look like that. Do you have any idea how perfect you are?”

“Well I have some idea, but no harm in hearing it from someone else.” You winked, regaining enough power of speech to sass back at him

Your cockiness earned you an unexpected thrust, making you gasp loudly.

“Have you any idea how hard it’s been these last few weeks? For me to keep my hands off you?” he rasped, trailing kissing up the side of your neck. “I’m gonna show you.”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes. Please, show me.”

You sounded better than anything he had imagined. He still couldn’t believe he was the one who was coaxing those pretty sounds out of you. It only spurred him on to drive his hips into you, again and again, faster and faster until he was pounding you into the bed. The neighbors probably wouldn’t be too pleased with the noise your headboard was making against their wall, but you didn’t care at all. He let go of your hands to get a better grip on the bed, to get closer to you until the small hairs on his chest rubbed against your breasts. Every vein on his ridged cock caressed your walls as his swollen sensitive head brushed your sensitive spot repeatedly.

"How's this darling? Is this what you like?"

"Yes, Sergeant, just like that. I’m so close.”

“Don't! Try to hold back. I want this to last as long as possible. I’ve wanted to give this to you for so long... so you can get the most pleasure out of it.” The need inside of him was getting too intense and he held back as much as he could to keep going. He wanted to be able to give you this for as long as he could.

“I can't, it feels too good. I need to cum.”

“Try… that’s my girl." He was having a hard time keeping his voice from breaking as he tried so hard to hold back. “So good for me.” Bucky watched your body react to every move he made. Your hands grabbing at the bed sheets, your hips slowing their movements against him, you moaning and breathing heavily. The sight of all this made it so hard to go slow but he had to. He had to keep trying.

You looked into his eyes and the way he looked back at you felt like he could see right into your soul. Your fingertips dug into his back in an attempt to stop yourself from falling over the edge as he thrusted down into you.

Your touch was driving him crazy and it was almost enough to drive him over the edge. He continued to focus his every effort on holding on but it was getting harder to resist as your hips began to move slightly faster against him.

“Please-” you whimpered. “I-oh God, please.”

“Please what? Go faster? Let you cum? Tell me. Be a good girl and use your words, darling. And maybe, just maybe I’ll give it to you.”

“Please Bucky, make me cum.”

His body suddenly tightened and he let out a small groan as the feeling of your pleas went through him. He was holding back but it wasn’t working as well now. Your legs started to tense up more and were your nails breaking his skin? Every movement you made, every noise from your mouth was sending him closer and closer to his final climax.

His thumb on your clit was what had you tumbling into oblivion, waves of pleasuring washing over you, Bucky's name on your tongue. His face wore a feral, completely fucked out look as your orgasm triggered his, the stuttered way his hips grinded deeper into your body drew out your pleasure until your vision went completely black for a few seconds. You squeezed around him, milking his white hot seed, greedily claiming what was yours until his cum was leaking out of your overfilled pussy. Bucky collapsed on you shortly after, his breathing heavy and his chest vibrating ever so slightly from the effort he had just gone through but he smiled, looking down at you with his most vulnerable expression yet.

“I love you, Buck,” you whispered, carding your fingers through the edges of his hair.

"I love you too, Cricket... so damn much." He let out a soft sigh of satisfaction, the feeling between the two of you was one that could never be matched.

"That was... something else.”

He couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "That's one way of describing it." He pressed his lips onto yours again for one more lengthy kiss before pulling away and resting his head on your chest. "Did you get everything you wanted?”

"And more.”

He grinned as he closed his eyes for a moment, head still on your chest, and arms wrapped securely around you and his body was still trembling ever so slightly. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, looking up at you, the warmth of this moment was indescribable. "That makes me happy to hear.”

Every life might be a pile of good things and bad things, but in this exact minute, everything was perfect. Bucky closed his eyes, simply absorbing everything about this moment of peace.

"Is it too late for dinner?” you asked, as Bucky chuckled at your rumbling belly.

“I suspect the place where I made reservations won’t accept us turning up now.”

You sighed and pouted. “Boo.”

Bucky pulled out of you and you lamented about the loss of fullness inside you. He propped himself up on his elbow, resting his head on his hand and turned to you. “I was going to make a reservation at Sticks and Stones, but... I wasn't sure if you would feel comfortable with that because that's where... I want you to feel comfortable and secure about us first. ”

“Thanks,” you whispered gratefully.

“You in the mood for something else?”

"Yeah," you grin, seductively. “Dessert!”

You screamed gleefully as Bucky suddenly rolled onto you, his laughter ringing in your ears.

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itoshi-s · 2 years

Note

can I ask you Sae or Kaiser on the weekend at their house with their s/o and can't stop teasing each other before you know 🤭...

I love your writing <3 thank you so much !

hii anon !! went with sae for this one as of i dont write for kaiser ( and i am biased hehe ), hope you like it !!(´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭

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*.✧ ft. sae itoshi

*.✧ wc: 4.3k. not proofread. nsfw / 18+ only / minors dni ! - fem reader, sae's a pro player and in his early 20s. mention of masturbation, asphyxiation/choking, hard dom! sae (but turns softer), sae dirty talks a lot, he calls you a whore once :'>, squirting. note: inspired by in heat by hentai xander !!

*.✧ the heatwave takes it's toll on you, but sae doesn't really like excuses.

although rare, there are times where you regret flying to spain with sae.

it’s usually during one of your screaming matches, when he lets his mouth run and says a few words too many. (he’s quick to widen his eyes though at the sight of your wobbling lip, and soon has you in an embrace so strong there is no way you’re going to run away from him.) sometimes, it’s when you two can’t enjoy a peaceful night out, having to leave early because you can see people start to gather outside the club, having heard of the opportunity to see real madrid’s prodigy in the flesh. and then, it’s days like this - when all you can do is lay nearly naked on the once cool sheets, the ac blasting, and yet, your skin still shines with sweat, making the tee you’re wearing nearly see through as it sticks to your flesh.

it’s not like you’re a total wimp - you’ve always liked the humid heat that had so many people visiting spain all year round, and it even made you giddy when you could finally start wearing the skimpy, flowy clothing that back in your hometown, you only got to wear on the few hottest summer days. now, as you nearly feel lightheaded, you figure that 40 degrees celsius might just be the temperature that beats you.

“it’s almost 6 and you still haven’t moved from the bed,” sae sounds amused from his spot on the balcony, glancing at you through the ajar doors. you turn your head to his direction, brows furrowing as you lean up on your forearm.

“you’re letting the heat back in,” you whine, throwing your legs over the edge of the bed as you stand up rapidly. sae seems unbothered at the annoyed expression you wear, instead finishing his unknown iced beverage with a slurp of the straw, only turning your attention to you when his sight of the city below is blocked by that of your bare thighs. “this really doesn’t bother you, not one bit?”

craning his head up to look at you, sae places the glass down and snakes his hands on the behind of your thighs. massaging the flesh, he can feel just how heated your body is - the warmth making his abdomen stir.

“got used to it,” he shrugs, a shadow of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as your hands quickly work on prying his off your legs.

standing between his spread thighs, you are a sight that is just enough to make him harden in his shorts. he has to shift in his seat, hips bucking up momentarily and he knows, sees that your eyes flicker downwards, to where his hard on bulges in the 5 inch inseam shorts.

“gross,” you scrunch your nose, but the slight shudder of your chest tells him otherwise. “don’t even think ‘bout it. i can barely stand in this heat, let alone keep up with you.”

the attitude you’ve been sporting since yesterday, when the temperature started to rise abruptly, has been keeping sae on his toes ever since he first noticed the grimace on your face. now, that you were finally in his arms’ reach and he won’t have to share you with anybody else, it seems like life decided to punish him for all his sins and selfish ways. the first time you rebuffed his efforts, it made annoyance bubble deep within his chest and he had to bite on his tongue as to not say something that’d only push you away further. if there was one thing sae hates, it is to impose on you- it’s all against everything that ever got him going. needing, craving you - wanting you all over him. nothing can rile him up the way your teary eyes do, whimpers and pleads turning to blabbering, muscles aching to touch him - but now, the image seems as far away as it did months ago, when thousand kilometers kept you separated.

kissing his teeth, sae stands up from his seat and delivers a single smack to your bottom, fingers grabbing at the flesh, forcing a yelp from your throat. “watch it,” he quips, a finger sneaking behind the waistband of your thong to playfully snap it back. “you don’t want me joinin’ in.”

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　✧

yeah, you didn’t want him to join your little teasing game. that you know for sure, but you suppose it is too late for regrets now, when the temperature is still breaking the records and yet, sae managed to kindle an even stronger heat inside of you.

you have many things at the back of your head to keep worrying about, but somehow, sae and his presence all around is on the top of the list. now it isn’t just the mind fogging heat you have to suffer from, but also sae and his screwing around and to make it worse, you can’t escape it not even for a minute - you really do feel trapped with the consequences of your very own actions, right in your and sae’s top floor apartment. the heat is bringing you two main obstacles, that you just cannot seem to win over: you cannot leave the house to get back at sae and focus your mind anywhere else (you would quite literally melt), and, similarly, sae can’t leave either, considering the temperature’s high enough to keep people from doing daily tasks outside, yet alone practice and exhaust themselves (unlike you, he is very much thankful for the few obligatory days off). this leaves you in a position where you have to either swallow down your pride, give in to your urges - which feel almost primal to you now - and start begging your boyfriend for even just a lick of his attention.

as if having to admit defeat wasn’t enough, you’re met with a wall that sae managed to build up almost overnight - one that’s made of thick glass, so that it keeps him out of your needy reach, but allows him to stare down at you with a condemning glare, a glint of a smirk on his lips, as if saying see, i told you. you’ve tried just about every trick in the book to ignite the spark in the emerald orbs you’ve grown to love, but it’s all old news to him, it seems, and he doesn’t budge no matter how desperate your efforts are.

or so you think - just because sae doesn’t barge in right through the bathroom door upon hearing the muffled moans as you shower, doesn’t mean that the sound leaves him unbothered. your legs almost kick out involuntarily from the dopamine rush as you feel your walls squeeze at your fingers, orgasm rushing through every nerve and making you keen softly. sae, sae please - he can hear it all, and knows very well that it’s exactly what you wanted of him when you left the door ajar, inviting. he has to grab at the throbbing in his shorts, giving his cock a single squeeze to relieve at least a crumb of the pressure or otherwise, he just might lose his cool and give in to you. he exhales through his nose, the knees that can carry him through the whole field in a flash now feeling weak under his weight as he listens to your moans die down.

the heat doesn’t let up, even though it’s been two days already - the forecast says it should start moving north soon, finally give spain a moment to breathe - but sae’s stubborn, and you know that the tight knot that seems to tighten with each of his looks sent your way won’t come undone anytime soon.

oh, you have no idea how hard this miffed face you’ve put on makes him. he sees you trying, of course he does, the way you started wearing your tiniest cropped tops and some flimsy panties around the house - even though you both know that it’s easier to fight the heat when wearing loose clothing. but if you wore anything else, he wouldn’t have the view of your tits perking up as you stretch, sitting on the other end of the leather brown couch, the underside coming to view and luring him in to touch - and that he knows, too. he’s well aware that each and every time he groped and grabbed at the flesh of your bottom, he’s made it clear just how obsessed he was with the soft muscle there - and now you’re using it against him, as you bend over to reach for something under the sink. if only sae didn’t know just how much of a whore you could be, he’d think that the wet spot on your panties was just his vision playing games with him. but he knows, and yet it doesn’t make it any easier on him to not give up and submit to his need.

you can feel your eyelids grow heavy, struggling to keep your focus on the random movie you’ve put on the tv to kill the time. the sunlight seeps through the blinds, scolding at your heated skin as you shift, clammy skin sticking to the leather brown sofa. you hum softly, head tilting to the side as you hear sae stop by the back of the couch, peeking at the scene playing out on the flat screen. one warm hand rest on the crook of your neck, sending a surprised shiver right down your spine, and your eyes wearily flutter open as you feel sae’s fingers slowly snake around your throat. giving a few light taps to your jugular, he gives no effort into knocking the breath out of your lungs as his hand gently squeezes. you were nearly dozed off just seconds before, but now you’re back awake and alert, heart racing as you feel sae’s hand fully wrap around your neck - a whimper ripping from your throat, thighs rubbing against each other at the thought that this might just be it.

sae almost jolts at the quivering sound, pulling his hand away quickly, “oi,” he mumbles, fighting back a smirk as he notices your shoulders tremble. he got you good. “sorry. i thought you were asleep,” the hand comes back up to ruffle your hair. “won’t disturb you anymore.” and just like that, he’s already walking down the hall, soon disappearing into your bedroom, leaving behind a burn at your neck and a throb between your legs.

the all-time high hits a few hours later, when sae wakes from his afternoon nap and reluctantly gets off the bed, slides padding softly against the hardwood floors. he scratches at the back of his neck, heading to the kitchen to grab a cold drink,

“hey,” he’s greeted by your voice, sweet but hushed, as if the heat sucked all of your energy out and only left a shadow behind. (you’ve always been so soft when tired - it always made him press kisses to your reddened cheeks and just below your glassy eyes.) sae gives a small nod and notices the bright blue popsicle in your hand, eyes moving from the iced treat upwards, to your face - just in time as your tongue lolls out to take a long lick.

sucking a breath in, he forces a smile, “hm, you took the last one,” he notes, turning his back to you as he grabs a glass from the cupboard and fills it with tap water.

“yeah,” you hum, slurping, and sae feels his knees buckle.he keeps up his act, leaning back against the marble counter as you lock eyes. the juice is leaking down your fingers and you move to lick it off, a slow lap up your hand, “m’sorry, sae.” red starts to seep into his view, gaze zeroed on your tongue as it works around the tip of the lolly. “couldn’t help myself.” and then, it snaps.

you jump in your seat as sae slams the glass down on the table, and you want to knit your brows together and urge him to be careful - but seeing his restraints break makes your heart race and pussy throb. you are shameless, but it doesn’t matter anymore. not when it has him so feral, desperate to feel you. he doesn’t give you time to react - he’s known worldwide for his quick reflexes, after all - before he’s already pulling your hand away to the side and presses his hungry lips to yours.

you don’t have it in you to even joke about him making a mess as the popsicle falls to the floor from your hand, mouth full of his tongue as it licks at your cheeks and grazes along your teeth. it has you moaning, a lewd muffled sound, as sae quickly works on pushing his sweatshorts down. he breaks the kiss as he hears you struggle to breathe, a strong hand wrapping around your throat in a firm grip instead as it pushes you down. your head spins at the urgency of his movements and the grunt he lets out when your knees hit the floor.

“you’ve been actin’ like a real fucking whore,” he grabs at your jaw tightly instead, fingers digging into the flesh of your cheek and forcing your mouth agape. “you know that?” one would’ve thought that it’s embarrassing, the way he has you on your knees in a matter of minutes, tongue hanging out, saliva pooling at the tip - but to you, this feels right. your hands pull at the waistband of the grey sweats, tugging them down promptly and a groan rips from sae’s throat at the feeling of his cock springing free. you reach to wrap a hand around it, just below the reddened head, and flick your thumb over the beads of precum that already seep out the tip. you crane your head up to watch sae’s brows furrow at the initial rush of pleasure and keep your wide eyes right on his as finally, you lean in to get a taste.

reaching one hand behind him, he grips the edge of the dining table and leans against it, other hand trailing up from your neck to grab a fistful of hair. he twists the locks around, hearing you wheeze at the sudden surge of pain, and cuts your surprised sounds off by pushing his hips forward.

“ha-ah-” he gasps, eyes trained on your face and how the tears already start to cling to your lashes, “fuck- show me you’re sorry.” he grunts, shoulders rolling back before he adjusts the tight grip on your hair and pulls your face towards his abdomen. and if you didn’t feel sorry for teasing the fuck out of him yet, then you were surely regretting it now as he bullies his cock deep into your mouth, until your small hands grab at the back of his muscled thighs. “yeah, that’s it. take it.” you squeeze your eyes shut at the burn in the back of your throat, at the feeling of sae’s cock nearly rubbing up on your tonsils. it makes you gag, saliva spilling from the sides of your mouth already, and you feel rivulets of tears rush down your face as he pushes your head even further.

your nose presses against his abdomen, well trimmed and smelling of his shower gel and sweat. it turns your mind foggy and head dizzy - or is it the lack of oxygen? - as he starts thrusting, forcefully, other hand coming up to the back of your neck to gain better control of your movements. “you know tha- ah- that i hate fuckin’ brats,” your nails break the pale skin on sae’s thighs, crescent moons glowing bright pink as you grasp at the sturdy muscle. it’s starting to ring in your ears, and your neck cramps from sae’s grip. “and yet, you want to be one so badly.”

your hands scurry to grap at his legs, desperate as white dots start to sparkle across your jet black vision and yet, he stills his hips, so deep you can almost feel him in your guts. you know he adores the free use you let him have of you, and that he has his moment to pull out perfectly calculated, knowing your limits better than even you do. but, sometimes, you wonder if he’s going to push you even further, until your muscles grow limp, throat relaxes around his girth-

you heave and gasp at the sudden flow of air as sae abruptly pulls you off of him, hand flying up to clutch at your chest. there’s saliva pooling on the floor, a shameful image of filth that he forces from you each and every time, and from the corner of your eye you see sae step out of his shorts and kick them to the side.

“six,” he speaks, cutting through the spiraling the asphyxiation put you into. “that’s how many times you’ve lead me on.” you whimper as sae grabs you by the forearm, pulling your body up from the floor. he takes notice on how it already feels putty in his hands as he backs you up against the table and pushes at your heaving chest until your back hits the wood. standing between your spread legs, he waits - listens.

“i’m- ‘m sorry,” you hiccup, voice wet with tears as one of sae’s thighs presses right against your clothed heat. he clicks his tongue, feeling the dampness against his skin, and he crams his muscle against your pussy harder. “you were- you were teasin’ me, ‘n i needed you,” your hips stutter unwittingly, an attempt to spark some friction on your throbbing clit. sae notices, stoic eyes taking a short glimpse down to where you’re pressing up against him, before he focuses back on your pretty face.

“huh?” he fakes astonishment, fingers working to pull the thin material of your thong to the side, “i thought you didn’t want me? said somethin’ about the heat?” you gasp at the touch of his fingertips, the sensation turning your brain to mush, forcing quiet thankyouthankyouthankyou out of your mouth. keeping his stare on your expression, he places a thumb on your awaiting clit, and stills.

your back arches, a sob ripping through your chest, hand clutching at his wrist. “sae-”

“shh,” he hushes, slowly starting to rub precise circles, feeling the nub throb under his thumb. “you’re a lucky girl, you know that?” his other palm rests on one of your knees, slinging your leg to rest on his shoulder. your head smacks back against the table and you’re pretty sure sae’s change of pace is giving you whiplash as he presses a kiss to your ankle, right by the little charm adorning the gold chain he’s once bought you.

“only you can treat me like that and still deserve to be touched.” two fingers prod at your entrance, collecting the translucent cream that seeps out. you rest your forearm across your eyes, cheeks growing red as you can feel sae’s eyes zero in on your pussy, oozing with need. he dips a finger in, experimentally, watching out for a reaction as softly, he massages it against your front wall, barely two knuckles deep.

your body shivers, and sae wraps one arm around your leg, still resting against his chest to keep you from squirming. leaning down, he kisses you, mouth hot on yours as he drinks up every little gasp and keen as he works his fingers right against the sweetest spot he could find. pressing his palm flat on your clit, he picks up the speed, and you grab at his bicep with a breathy cry.

“gonna cum,” you blabber, but sae already feels it around his digits as they reach deeper, knuckles bending to kiss at the right spot. he hums - a quiet permission - with his fingers flexing on the flesh of your thigh as he holds you close through your high. he groans at the stuttering of your hips and squeezing of his walls on his fingers, so tight that he can barely move them to ride your high out, and rests his forehead on your collarbone. he feels, hears the translucent liquid spray against his palm as it rubs across your clit, grinds on it heavily. one of your hand is still holding onto his wrist, dainty fingers gripping on the bone as you squeal, the sensitivity making your nerves tingle.

sae eases his fingers out of you and he feels his cock throb at the sheen of your juices all over his hand - a tell tale sign of just how good he could make you feel - before he wraps it around his length, giving it a few firm pumps. you watch with half lidded eyes, saliva thick in your mouth as you try to pull your hips back. sae sends you a stern look, eyebrow raised, and you blush at the expression.

“wait a second,” you breathe, but feel sae’s cock slide between your folds anyway. with a low grunt, he grabs your other leg and puts it on it’s place on his shoulder.

“‘ve waited enough, i think,” he retorts, the fat, throbbing head catching on your sensitive clit and it makes him suck in a breath. you’re squirming underneath him, his hands on your hips not doing much in terms of keeping you still, but he’s just too focused on the warmth of your pussy across his length. you reach a hand down, fingers just barely wrapping around his cock as you guide it at your hole.

with just the slightest move forward of his hips, sae pushes right against the tight entrance, brows knit together as he bottoms out in a single motion - and his shoulders drop at the feeling, chest relaxing as if all the pent up tension had finally its’ outlet. your vision blurs as his hands move to your thigh and waist, creating just the perfect leverage to manhandle your body for his own pleasure., and you have to bite at the back of your hand to muffle your cries as sae sets a quick pace.

you’re incoherent as he strokes deep inside of you, hips smacking against the back of your thighs, heavy balls slapping on your ass. it sounds so fucking filthy, so borderline obscene, and yet, when you manage a glance at sae’s face, he looks so fucking tepid. you’ve seen this face before, usually on the big screen at the stadium as the camera zoomes in on his face as he handles the ball expertly. if there are two things that sae itoshi knows, it is soccer and fucking you dumb. he has his eyes trained on your pussy, at the creamy white ring that forms just at the base of his cock, and he grunts.

“you take me so well,” he breathes, one hand letting go of your thigh to smack across your ass. it leaves a handprint, a pretty pale pink that burns on your skin, a reminder of tonight to stay on your flesh for the next few days. he wraps one hand around your throat, palm pressing on your jugular as he leans forward, sturdy chest pressing right against your tits, barely covered by the skimpy top you’re still wearing. you struggle to catch a breath, but sae only watches with observant, sharp eyes; soaks in the fucked out expression drawn across your face.

“you gonna cum for me ‘gain?’ he asks, euphoria in every breath as he drives his hips against yours even harder. he reaches one his hands just below your bum, pushing it upwards, creating a new angle that allows him to thrust right against your favorite spot. it makes your eyes roll back, chest trembling with a sob as you nod your head quickly, urgently.

“please,” you whimper, and sae presses his forehead against yours.

he grunts, grip on your neck tightening as he braces himself to push into you harder, deeper. he feels his balls pull against his body, a shaky breath slipping past his parted lips, and he listens to the broken moans he’s forcing out of your abused throat.

sae isn’t at all surprised his ego reaches the highest of heights - not with his name all over every sports site, every magazine, stamped onto tens of trophies. not when he can get you to cry for him like that.

“ah- fucking hell-” he moans as he feels your pussy clamp down on his cock, a clear sign of your orgasm hitting you full force. your voice gets caught in your throat, but he can feel the tears sink into his hand as they stream down your face and jaw; he can feel your jittery hips against his, the pulsating of your walls on his throbbing, aching cock.

he feels the tight knot snap and with a deep groan, he bottoms out and stills his hips. white paints his vision as he breathes against your mouth heavily, pressing hot, messy kisses on your love bruised lips. you can’t feel your thighs anymore, the stretch of the mating press having exhausted them to their limit, but you still whimper when sae pushes even deeper. his cock kisses at your cervix, filling you right up to the brim, and you feel him shudder.

you move your hands to rub up his biceps, taut and strong as they hold him up, and moan out as he slowly pulls his hips back.

sae takes a proper breather, heart hammering still against his ribcage as he straightens himself. he lets go of your neck eventually, instead smoothing his hands up your hamstrings and calves, slowly easing your legs back down and to wrap around his hips. you look at his face and feel your tummy flutter at the fucked out expression, the way his already dull eyes has grown even darker and how the blush spilled across his cheeks. he notices your staring and smiles slightly, having caught his breath eventually.

“go clean up,” he sighs, giving your bottom a pat. “time to cool down.”

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reblogs are greatly appreciated ! :)

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he-calls-me-kitten · 10 months

Text

Playlist Drabbles #01

Writing random smut drabbles based on songs from my playlist (Solomon, Asmodeus, Mammon)

"We don't gotta be in love, no,

I don't gotta be the one, no,

I just want to be one of your girls tonight."

(One of your girls - Weekend ft. Jennie, Lily-Rose Depp)

Solomon is just happy you're here with him right now. Wrapped up only in his bedsheets and his arms. He can't sleep, no it would be a waste. He needs to cherish this - he won't have it for very long.

When you're both back home, you'll be surrounded by everyone again. He will never be your only one - not with those brothers in the competition. But he is one of the many that gets to feel your warmth and affection and for now, this is all he needs. It's more than he can hope for.

"MC? You're still awake aren't you?" He coos softly knowing you're not asleep yet either.

"Yes, just like you." You say, tracing the bags underneath his eyes with your pretty fingers. He can feel his heart melting. What a lovely apprentice he has.

"Can we go...one more time?" Slowly, his hand traces your curves, so you can refute him anytime. But you clench your thighs around his waist and kiss him on the mouth, smiling.

"I'd like that." You say coyly. His eyes darken in desire as he climbs on top of you, positioning himself between your legs. He's not the only one that does this to you - but it's just been you and him every night since you came here. He'll have to give that up soon - but atleast not yet. Atleast not tonight.

"Please tell me I'm your one and only,

Or lie and say atleast tonight,

I've got a brand new cure for lonely,

And if you give me what I want,

I'll give you what you like."

(Give you what you like - Avril Lavigne)

Asmo doesn't always like using his powers. Why did he always have to use them to make people like him? Wasn't he enough just as he was? Wasn't he beautiful?

Who else can answer him, if not the only person who doesn't get affected by his charm. "MC..." He barges into your room, desperate to be held. To be loved.

"Asmo...you're so perfect." You cradle his face as you ride him. Tears pool at the corner of his eyes, out of joy, out of reassurance along with the obvious pleasure of your walls clamping down on him.

"MC...You really mean that?" Like a wounded puppy he tilts his head to the side, intertwing his fingers with yours. He bucks up his hips upward, deeper inside you. You moan and struggle to balance yourself.

"Of course, Asmo..." He doesn't care even if you're lying at this point. It just feels good to even hear you say that. He feels so loved and ethereal as you gently press kisses on his neck and shoulders so you don't blemish his flawless skin. And he impatiently flips you around to return the favor.

"With all the lights off,

Everything is wrong, but it's alright,

You're the only good thing in my life."

(You're the only good thing in my life - Cigarettes after Sex)

Mammon feels like shit some days. With his sin taking over, Lucifer's overbearing rage, his brothers' disappointment - it's all too much for him. Sick of being holed up in his room, he decides to get out of house to clear his head.

You are late that day, and he's already disgruntled about it. Maybe he'll go out and fetch you himself. Some attendant you are. They should increase your hours at HOL.

But lo and behold, there you are standing right at the door. "Hey Mammon, going somewhere?" He takes you by the hand and leaves the house. "Oi, you know Devildom like the back of your hand, don't ya? Take me somewhere new." He asks.

You take him to a hotel with a shimmering pool. He's never been here before, but he feels an odd sense of familiarity with it. Especially when he kisses you fervently, his hands practically ripping your clothes off you. He feels so much better once he's inside you.

"The Great Mammon likes this place. Bring me back here again soon." He says as he keeps driving with one hand on your thigh. His life might be a hot mess but atleast you're here. And that makes everything so much better.

#obey me #obey me solomon #obey me smut #obey me solomon x reader #obey me asmo #obey me asmo x reader #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #mammon smut #asmo smut #solomon smut

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aesthetictarlos · 4 months

Note

not sure if you’re still open for little prompts but i’ve been thinking about buck and tommy having a little argument about something inconsequential before they go off to work, but then one of them gets (mildly) injured on the job. and when they get home the other helps tend to their (little) cuts and bruises. and idk there’s lots of softness and little i’m sorries and we’ll try not to leave mad again because you never know what can happen in their line of work and now we have something important to come home to, etc. 🥹

Thank you for the prompt, it took me a while but here we go ❤️ I'm not sure about this one because angst is not my thing but they're so cute together so I hope it's good enough!

Buck nearly jumps out of his skin as he hears the key turn into the lock. He's been staring at the ceiling for the past two hours or so, losing track of the time and missing the fact that Tommy's shift ended twenty minutes ago.

His stomach churns at the unfamiliarity of all this; he'd normally stand up real quick to go greet his boyfriend with a hug and a soft kiss, but today he remains on the couch, silent and tense. Waiting.

"Evan?" Tommy calls from the hallway, and Buck can picture him toeing off his shoes and throwing the keys in the bowl on the small cabinet near the door. There's a bit of uncertainty laced to his voice, and Buck hates it.

"I'm on the couch!" He says, clearing his throat, and braces himself for– he doesn't even know what.

"Hey," Tommy murmurs, padding into the living room. "Wait, why are you home already?"

Home. They've been living together for a month now, but he's still not used to hearing Tommy say it.

Buck cautiously lifts his head up to meet Tommy's eyes and something breaks in his chest as he notices how Tommy's face crumples in worry as soon as he spots the purplish bruise adorning his cheekbone and the nasty scrapes along his arm.

"What the hell happened? Fuck, Evan, are you okay?" He asks, and instantly sits next to him on the couch, reaching out to grab his chin and angle his face towards him. "And why didn't you call me?"

Tears prickle Buck's eyes as he stares at him, mouth suddenly dry. "I– I tackled a man on the asphalt. I'm fine, just a bruise and some scratches, nothing broken even if my ribs hurt a bit. That's why Bobby sent me home."

Tommy caresses his cheekbone and his gentle touch feels so good that Buck might cry. "You don't look fine. Your face is swelling, and– Why didn't you call me?"

Buck ducks his gaze and shrugs. "I didn't– I didn't know if I could call you. We– We argued this morning and we haven't spoken all day long and–"

"Oh, Evan," Tommy sighs, shaking his head. "Of course you could've called. You should have," he cuts him off softly, cupping the side of his face that's not bruised. "I don't even remember why we argued but having an argument doesn't mean that I don't care about you. Evan, I wasn't avoiding you, I had a gruelling shift and I thought you wanted some space. You– You told me–"

"That I was glad we were both on shift so we wouldn't see each other for a while," Buck supplies, feeling guilty. "I'm sorry, I– I was mad. I didn't mean it. I missed you."

"Me too," Tommy whispers, bringing their foreheads together. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry."

Buck collapses against him, curling his arms around his neck to pull him close. "I love you. And I'm sorry," he repeats, voice raspy.

"We can't let this happen again," Tommy says, brushing a hand up and down his back.

Buck pulls back to glance at him. "We can't," he agrees. "What about we promise each other to never leave mad again? We don't argue that much, but we both know it will happen again and–"

"And when it happens, we will find a way to clear the air before one of us has to leave for work. And I also don't want us to go to bed angry with each other," Tommy says, reaching for his hand and squeezing.

"Neither do I," Buck admits, and smiles as he holds out his pinky. "Pinky promise?"

Tommy chuckles, hooking his finger to Buck's. "Pinky promise."

#evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #buck and tommy #tevan #kinley #ficlet #bucktommy fic #accepting prompts #tumblr prompt #anon answered #anon ask #light angst #but mostly fluff #my writing #my fic #allie writes

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thriftedtchotchkes · 8 months

Text

solo round

pairing: josh futturman x f!reader

summary: josh is sick of meaningless charging, but instead of asking out the pretty, new game store cashier, he decides to take matters into his own hands. again.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, set post-dick swap, m!masturbation, size kink, fantasizing, sexual frustration, unprotected piv, excessive lube

word count: 1.5k

(for our tiny fandom <3 and @tinycozycomfort)

Seriously, are they doing this shit on purpose? This is the third time today he's overheard them going at it, and Josh swears they're getting louder every time.

He gets that things are stressful right now—he's stressed as fuck, too—but if he has to listen to Tiger and Wolf charging up one more time, he thinks he's going to scream. It's bad enough that they're staying in the room next to his, but they also have no concept of privacy. Or shame. Half the time, they start up right in front of him.

They genuinely just don't give a shit. And the last time he yelled at them to keep it down, he got teased mercilessly for days. Sounds like someone needs to get laid, they'd said. Or you can join us as long as you keep your rathole to yourself.

Assholes. He'd rather die of blue balls than fuck either of them at this point. But they're not wrong. It's been a long time since he was with anyone, way longer than he'll ever admit, and he's starting to lose it. He's also pretty sure he's getting carpal tunnel in his right wrist, and his dick feels like it might actually fall off if he jerks off again.

It only makes things worse anyway because all he can think about is you. The new girl who just started working at the game store—totally unattainable and way out of his league. Still doesn't stop him from imagining how nice your boobs would feel in his hands or how wet and tight you'd feel around him, moaning his name loud enough to drown out his shitty teammates—

Fuck it. If his dick falls off, maybe he'll get lucky and that'll solve his problem. He yanks his jeans down to his ankles before he can talk himself out of it, and his toes practically curl the second his fingers wrap around his dick.

The first stroke almost hurts, but he's so desperate for relief, he ignores it. Instead, he plays out his favorite scenario in his head, the one where you're riding him on the same gaming chair he's sitting in.

His hands are on your waist, guiding you up and down his cock while your tits bounce in his face, and they're as perfect in his mind as they are in real life. He leans forward to latch onto a nipple and teases it between his teeth until he can feel you clenching around him.

Fuck, that's good. You're so fucking wet, and...and his hand is way too dry for this right now. He lets out a frustrated sigh before getting up and waddling over to his bedside table, rifling through the drawers for the ancient bottle of lube he knows is hiding in there somewhere.

He'll take literally anything, honestly—those random packets he got from work that are technically for the possums, that weird scented lotion his mom gave him—but then his fingers close around the sticky container he's looking for, and he's back in his chair so fast, he's surprised he doesn't tip it over. Hastily, he squeezes way too much lube into his palm and starts pumping himself again.

Now, where was he? Oh right—you're so fucking wet. He's sliding in and out of you easily, even though you're so tight, it almost feels like you're strangling him. Especially with his new dick.

At first, he was worried it might be too big, but you're a fucking champ. You take it slow, guiding him to play with your pussy until you're less tense, and now he's buried to the hilt and fighting not to buck too hard.

He can see how much he's stretching you out and feels a little bad that you're still struggling to adjust—and that he's having trouble focusing on anything else but the way he looks inside you. But as you purposely clench around him, he realizes you like the pain. A lot.

God, you're hot.

And he's starting to sweat big time. His shirt clings to him uncomfortably in about six different places, but he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to block it out with dirtier thoughts of you. Just a little bit more—he'll be close soon, he knows it.

Tightening his grip, he lengthens his strokes to match what he imagines your pussy would feel like in this moment and pretends it's you clenching around him and not just his aching right hand.

That you're swiveling your hips to meet his thrusts, teasingly biting your lip when he takes that as the go-ahead to move a little faster. Fuck, he wants to kiss you so badly. And now is probably his only chance, real or imaginary.

He lurches forward and immediately sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, swallowing every moan he fucks out of you. His hands roam every inch of bare skin he can reach, squeezing your tits together so he can thumb over your hardened nipples and feel your plush skin spilling between his fingers.

The longer he caresses and grabs and tugs, the louder you get, and he's loving every second of it. Finally, it's his turn to bother everyone else in the house—except he doesn't realize that outside of his head, he's already bothering everyone, a whimpering mess all alone in his bedroom.

But he's too focused on his impending release to notice. You're gripping him so tight and starting to grind into his pelvis, chasing your own high, and he can feel you fluttering dangerously around him. He wants you to cum before he does, but god, he's so deep and so fucking close, it's making him dizzy.

Back in the real world, he focuses closer to the base, making a huge mess of lube and precum on his lap as he tries to stave off his orgasm and drive you closer to yours.

He wraps his arms around your middle and starts to piston into you, and when you gasp out his name, he knows he found the spot he was looking for. Losing his grip on reality entirely, he coaxes you through it out loud like you're actually there, riding him like your life depends on it.

"You're doing so good, almost there," he says encouragingly, gazing up at you in awe and disbelief. You're so pretty like this, and the way you moan his name every time he rams into that spot—he needs you to say it louder.

"That's it, baby. Say my name, let me hear it."

And you're so good, you do exactly what he tells you to. He shifts his hands down to your ass to hold you in place so he can grind directly into where you want him. He's so fucking deep, he's positive he has to be in your stomach. And just the thought of it makes his balls draw up so tight, he sees stars.

"Shit, I'm not gonna last much longer."

Cum, Joshy. Your walls spasm around him violently, and that's all it takes to finally tip him over the edge.

"Jesus fucking christ—oh my god. Fully charged in 3...2...," he barely finishes the countdown before he's cumming hard into his fist—no, filling you up and letting you milk him for all he's worth.

He vaguely feels the splatter staining his t-shirt, and a few spurts are so strong, they reach up to his chin. He gasps his way through it, bucking so hard that the wheels on his chair unlock and it rolls backward until it slams into his bed.

Abruptly, Josh is thrown back into the present. And that really sucks.

What the actual fuck just happened? Obviously, he remembers—he was there—but seriously. What the fuck. His hand is covered in cum, his jeans are covered in cum, his shirt is...god, it's on his face, too. He even did the fucking countdown.

Alright, fine. Maybe they're right. Maybe he does need to get a girlfriend. He's tenser than he was when he started, so clearly this isn't working.

And as much as he could probably use it, he still refuses to fuck Tiger or Wolf. The sex is good, sure, but it's not worth his pride. Plus, they were mean to him and he's still not over it.

They're also not you.

He sighs heavily and sinks into his chair, resisting the urge to scrub at his cheek in frustration and smear even more cum on his face. Tomorrow, he resolves. Tomorrow, he's walking into the game store and asking you out.

So, he does. And you say yes.

thanks for reading!

header by @saradika-graphics

#josh futturman x reader #josh futturman x you #josh futturman #future man fanfic #future man fanfiction #future man imagine #future man #josh futturman smut #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson

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alienoresimagines · 3 months

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I wish you would write a fic (canon era, modern au, any setting really) where Buck is sick and Bucky fusses over him. Maybe with Buck’s head in Bucky’s lap?

I loved your fic of Bucky watching Buck sleep, so anything with that type of vibe? ❤️

I don't know the difference between a snippet and an actual fic so this is 1.4k 😅 But hey, Gale's awake for this one! Thank you so much for this inspiring ask, I've been writing angst for a week so going back to fluff felt really good 🥰❤️ Featuring : A sick Gale and a worrywart Bucky Also on AO3 Find my other Mota fics here

"Do you need anything ? Blanket ? Water ?" His hands hover over Gale's shivering form but the other weakly bats his hand away when John reaches out to check his fever.

"M'fine, Bucky." Gale's usual deep voice is now raspy and hoarse from too much coughing and Bucky winces in sympathy, knowing how much just saying those few words must've hurt. It also happens to be one of the biggest lies he's ever heard, on the top of his list with Buck's other countless "I'm fine"s he's heard since meeting the other. Bucky's only slightly exasperated.

"Like hell you are." He grumbles unhappily but fondness rounds the edge of every word as he fusses with the army issued blankets until only two unimpressed, slightly hazy with fever, blue eyes could be seen above the green fabric. John has to physically suppress a coo at the sight, sure it wouldn't be welcome, and very much not in the mood to wrestle Gale back in bed a second time.

He's honestly surprised the other held on for as long as he did considering the entire 100th had fallen victim to a nasty cold in the past two weeks, even Bucky himself. Buck had nursed him back to health and despite the pounding headache he remembers, John had enjoyed every minute of it. He would've enjoyed it a lot more though, if this stubborn sweetheart of a man hadn't also decided to take as much of a workload as he could while the rest of them were bedridden, disregarding any signs of his own degrading health.

A hand pulls on his sleeve until he sits on the edge of the bunk, the heat from Gale's body warming his side even through two blankets. Those pills better kick in soon or John might just die from worry. Over a damn cold.

Well, that's not exactly true. Even if the depth of his feelings for Gale still scares him absolutely shitless, he's past the shameful stage of denial. A mere small splinter would be enough to have him worried sick if it was in Gale's finger. But, he considers, maybe he went a bit overboard when he tucked Gale in with all the blankets available. Perhaps just four would be enough... which is why he lets Gale, although unhappily, drop some of the blankets on the bunk next to him. His mouth opens then closes with a click at Buck's glare.

Three blankets it was.

Gale settles again under the remaining covers, graciously letting John adjust them until his neck is covered. His lips, despite being chapped and not as pink as usual, still look so inviting that Bucky has to physically stop himself from pressing his own lips to Buck's. Three days he's been deprived of Gale's kisses and he has never wanted anything more in his life - except for Gale himself. During the two days he was sick, Buck had imposed a no-kissing-on-the-lips rule, much to his own chagrin but he respected Gale's boundary and need for cleanliness. Besides, it's not like he wanted to get Gale sick. And today, on the day he'd been longingly awaiting for 48 endless hours, Buck himself was sick and would refuse Bucky's kisses, he knows. It doesn't stop him from gazing mournfully at those plump lips.

"I was really looking forward to those kisses." He whines dramatically in a defeated sigh, a pang of fondness in his chest at Buck's own saddened eyes. He hasn't been alone in his longing, and the thought sends warmth through his body. Yet, coldness courses through him as he watches guilt overcome sadness when Gale turns his head sideways to avoid looking at him.

"M'sorry." All theatrics forgotten, a frown crosses his face immediately. He leans closer to Buck's face, gently sweeping his hair of his forehead and then cupping his flushed cheek to stroke over a high cheekbone until Gale looks at him.

"Hey, Buck. Listen to me." With his thumb, he tenderly frees Gale's bottom lip from the cage of his teeth. "You've got nothing to be sorry for. Damn cold got everyone, it's no surprise it'd get you too. Nothing shameful 'bout that, okay?"

Later, when the other isn't as miserable as now, John will grouch to him about working himself to the bone instead of going to see Smokey as soon as he’d started feeling bad. Later, he'll make Gale promise to come to him too, if he doesn't feel like talking to their flight surgeon.

The thing is, Gale is John's safe place. With him, he doesn't have to worry about talking too much, touching too much -as much as he could in public- being too much. He just wishes Gale would allow John to be his safe place too. And he knows that Gale allowing him to see that vulnerable side of his is already a huge show of trust. But he wants Gale to trust him not only to catch him when he falls but also to lean on him when he misses a step or falters just a bit.

For now though, he accepts the small nod he gets and relishes in the soft, barely there up of the corners of his lips, which blooms into a sweet smile when Bucky leans down to press a kiss to his forehead.

"As soon as you're back on your feet, I'm kissing you 'till you push me away." He promises against the too-warm skin of Buck's forehead before pulling back and grinning down at him. Gale looks amused, if a bit tired, but the light in his eyes is one of amused defiance. Even if he doesn't speak, Bucky hears him anyway and it sends thrills of anticipation down his spine. Just a few days more.

There's a moment of silence as John mindlessly plays with sweaty golden strands until Buck blinks slow and long and Gale's warm hand slips into his under the blanket. He has to bite his lips to keep the dopey smile from his face but he does stroke his thumb back and forth the expanse of Gale's knuckles. Shivers still wrack his form, though they did subside a bit compared to minutes ago. It's not nearly enough for Bucky.

"You sure I can't get you anything ?" Buck audibly groans as he opens his eyes just enough to show Bucky just how hard he's rolling his eyes and John snickers sheepishly. He raises the hand not in Gale's soft grip in mock surrender, the amused glint in sky-blue eyes only spurring him on.

"Sorry, sorry. But really, do you need anything ?" Gale licks his lips once and oh, John knows that look. It's as adorable as it makes his heart ache, the way Gale doesn't look him in the eyes. He thinks of a young boy, barely knee tall, not daring to ask his father anything and imperceptibly clenches his jaw. Softly squeezing Buck's hand in his, he smiles encouragingly when the other faces him.

"Anything, Gale." Tired eyes look at him for a moment, searching for something but John isn't sure what. He keeps his face open, knowing perfectly well there's no way he could hide how he feels about the other man when no one is around. Gale must find whatever he's looking for because he bites his lip slightly, seemingly pleased and content, if a little shy.

John is keeping a tally of how many kisses he's been robbed of.

Minutely, Gale starts scooting over and John huffs a laugh but obediently sits in the spot just vacated, back leaning on the metal headboard. He's barely put his legs on the blankets that Gale immediately presses in close to rest his head on John's lap like a cat pressing his head on his hand until he gets pets.

Bucky might just die of adoration for this sweet, sweet man he's blessed to call his.

He's half convinced the other will start purring when he strokes his fingers through his hair, nails slightly scratching at his scalp like he knows Buck likes but Gale only presses even closer to him until his body is one hot line against John's leg, a happy hum leaving him. He's asleep in one minute flat, face buried in Bucky's lap as the latter keeps playing with his hair, eyes not leaving the even rise and fall of his back.

John's so, so in love that he wonders how he ever thought he wasn't Gale's safe place just as much as Gale was his.

#clegan #buck x bucky #buck squared #mota fic #john egan #gale cleven #buck cleven #bucky egan #ali writes

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sometimesijustfeellikescreaming · 6 months

Text

Apparently, Boot Camp Doesn't Have Lessons in Subtlety

Rating: T - Word Count: 3.5k

Read on Ao3

SUMMARY:

Benny DeMarco doesn't get paid enough to sleep in the same barrack as the Bucks at the POW camp in the winter months once everyone has to start sharing bunks…

Buck and Bucky are sharing a bunk and let's just say they are not subtle about anything that is going on in that bed. If anyone was oblivious to the feelings going on between the two of them before, it's never been more obvious than now.

Benny DeMarco is pretty over it, but he'll also defend them to his dying breath. Oh, and he's taken to gossiping about them with John Brady.

A companion fic to my 5+1 Clegan bedsharing fic In your arms (I think I might survive) giving a humorous outsider perspective from the men of the 100th and those sharing the barrack with Buck and Bucky.

Benny DeMarco does not get paid enough to put up with petty shit in life. Specifically, the Bucks. Specifically how not subtle they are about their obvious feelings for each other.

God, could they be more obvious?

It was obvious from the moment Bucky came walking in the gates asking if Buck made it. Sure, the two were best friends and that was a normal question, but anyone who has eyes could've seen the way Bucky's whole demeanor changed once he caught sight of his "best friend."

Best friends my ass.

Best something, though, that's for sure.

It's usually not horribly distracting or overt, though. They pass as friends most of the time unless Bucky is drunk, Benny supposes, or they're arguing in which case they act like a goddamn married couple. They fly under the radar pretty easily at the prisoner-of-war camp for that reason. No danger, really. The Nazis would have their heads for any kind of association. Everyone knows how the Germans feel about that sort of thing. It's not spoken about. Hell, most people everywhere don't look too kindly on it, but DeMarco's not the kind of man who thinks somebody should be murdered because of the way they're living their life. It's not like some happiness in another person is worthy of the death sentence. That's just madness. And Buck and Bucky are some of DeMarco's best friends, he could never feel hatred toward them.

Annoyance? So much. And in increasing amounts...

See, they were fine until it got cold at night then Benny is certain everyone in the whole of their Barracks became painfully aware of the fact that they were painfully in love with each other because — goddamn it — they were sleeping in the same bunk and if it wasn’t obvious before that the two were hopelessly smitten with each other, well, after that it certainly was.

For one thing, Buck Cleven has the worst case of puppy dog eyes that Benny has ever seen. He’s had it bad for a while now (since before Benny went down and was still back at base) with his little soft smiles that he thinks he hides so well and mostly (mostly!) only gives Bucky when he’s not looking — but everyone else is.

LORD give him strength.

And then there’s Bucky.

That man antagonizes the fuck out of Buck at any given chance and Benny doesn’t even think he realizes it. And the worst thing is they both seem to like it. It’s the strangest thing and Benny is sure that this is their way of flirting.

Which is entirely infuriating because it’s the most annoying thing in the universe to be around.

Bucky’s antics only increase once they start sharing a bunk, and Benny’s not sure if it has more to do with his close proximity to Buck or his general cabin fever due to the German winter at the Stalag. Whatever the cause, Bucky is incorrigible, and his behavior at times is nigh impossible to deal with. Though, Benny has to admit, the moments of levity do bring several of the other men out of their low moments more often than not, himself included, so he can’t fault Bucky too much for his attitude. Even when he pisses Benny off, he is a light in the dark camp.

Still makes Benny want to punch him in the face half the time, but in a brotherly way.

And if the two of them are bad during the daytime, that’s nothing compared to how transparent they are when they’re actually snuggled together at night.

Now, Benny’s not an idiot. It’s winter. Even he is sharing a bunk. It’s cold as fuck outside and even he understands the necessity to shove aside pride and get in close quarters with a buddy for the foreseeable future. But, the Bucks have taken this situation and turned it into a nightly slumber party.

After the lights turn out they stay up whispering and giggling with each other like a couple of school girls. He’s convinced if their hair grew out long enough while they were here in the camp, the two of them would spend the nights braiding each other’s.

It’s not like Benny is especially complaining that they’re talking. They’re not that loud; he can’t even tell what they’re saying and he’s not sure anyone could even those in the bunks closest to them (though, the men in the bunks above and below them soon found themselves migrating away due to the way the Bucks consistently stayed up talking at night— nobody wanted to be in their bubble. They were a whole world unto themselves. Again— not subtle). So, it’s not the volume that bothers Benny about their conversations at night. It’s not even really that he’s bothered. It’s just that, really? It’s every night. And maybe Benny can admit to being just a little jealous because it’s not like he has a best friend here. Or anyone to talk to. Not that he would really want someone so important to him to be experiencing the Stalag alongside him, but it’s significant that in a place like this, the Bucks have each other. They seem to be holding together better individually because they have one another.

It pisses Benny off as much as anything else does. It’s not rational, but it makes their voices carrying across the room at night irritate him. He tries not to let it get to him because it’s not fair that them having a sliver of happiness should make him feel that way, but he’s just a man.

He starts to get over it when he starts gossiping with John Brady who is in another barrack, but also from the 100th and knows as well as he does what it is to know the Bucks.

“Brady, you have no idea— Bucky has it so bad. Yesterday we were all sitting around shootin’ the shit after lunch and— I swear to god— Buck gave him this look like he was being an idiot — because he was — and Bucky just leaned in real close to him like none of the rest of us were even there, face almost touching, no sense of personal space whatsoever—“

“Well, hey, it’s not like Bucky’s ever been good at personal space with his buddies much anyway—"

“Yeah, but usually he’s drunk. But listen to this next bit. Bucky leans in real close to Buck, fully sober, grinning like an idiot, and says ‘I could show you a thing or two.’” Benny lets it hang in the air, waiting for Brady’s response. He has his hands splayed in a well? gesture. Brady’s eyebrows fly up and he leans toward Benny in interest.

“You were all talking about baseball, right? But still, that is… very not subtle. A blatant flirtation.”

“I know.”

“Buck must know that too, right?”

“Please, Buck is always flirting with Bucky. He just does it differently. That man is not subtle either.” Brady seems confused by that, not convinced.

“Wait, what do you mean, I’ve never seen him flirt with anyone. Doesn’t he have a girl back home he’s writing to? I thought they were pretty serious!”

Benny makes a placating gesture and leans back in his chair. “I’m not saying he’s not serious with his girl back home or anything, but the way he makes eyes at Bucky is not a made-up thing. And anyone who’s ever read the Bible knows a man can have more than one lover.”

“Benny!”

“I’m just saying…”

But the thing is, the Bucks really aren’t subtle. Like, at all.

And if Bucky thinks he’s quiet in any sense of the word then he’s a damn fool.

Buck may be able to keep quiet most of the time in the daylight, being that he keeps mostly to himself and is pretty private, not saying too much, and isn’t overtly given to random outbursts of sound. But Bucky? Bucky is the pure opposite of Buck. In the daytime, he’s impulsive and will make stray comments on any conversation whether he’s a part of it or not, whether it’s appropriate or not. The only time Benny has ever seen Bucky hold his tongue is when it’s in a professional capacity in front of a superior officer, and even then half the time Bucky is mouthing back and risking his career.

To say this translates to the situation with the Bucks is to say that the sky is blue.

Meaning in December everyone in the Barrack with the Bucks is aware there is a change in the nature of the relationship between the two of them.

They are not subtle. Heavy breathing and the occasional low moan from their bunk is not an unusual occurrence starting sometime in December with increasing frequency.

Nobody says anything about it.

The Bucks are both happier for the shift in their dynamic and anytime somebody goes to complain about it, all of the men from the 100th noticeably stiffen and glare. They’re protective of their Majors to the end. All of them would likely die for either of the Bucks, let alone sucker punch anyone who criticized the men for finding happiness in wartime.

It’s not really a conscious decision on Benny’s part, to defend the Bucks and their relationship, it’s just that any time he hears anyone start to get a little tetchy about it, he gets defensive. So what if they’re keeping you up a bit? Shove off, put some wool in your ears, and deal with it, it’s the damn war. Stop being such a damn child about it.

They don’t complain anymore after that.

It’s just the way it is after that. Nobody says anything about it to anyone else. If the 100th is this protective of the Majors for mere comments, imagine how they would be with an actual threat? DeMarco’s not sure the 100th would be able to leave a man alive. Or at least unscarred— probably scare a man into secrecy if they even thought about saying anything about their Majors.

The days surrounding Christmas are perhaps some of the most awkward days of DeMarco’s life. Not only because it’s Christmas and he’s trying to ignore the holiday, not get caught up in his complicated feelings about the Holy Day that he wished he was spending with family back home, or even on base in more favorable circumstances with more friends, but also because the Bucks are acting weird. There’s a definite tension between them like they’re fighting. It carries into the next day too and the itchy feeling permeates into the air like a bad smell and affects everyone. It’s frankly awful.

Even Brady, who’s not in the same Barracks takes note of it at meal time.

“Benny, why does it feel like Mom and Dad are fighting and it’s my fault?”

“Thank GOD I’m not the only one who noticed!”

“I mean, look at them! They’re sitting right across from each other, and they keep glancing at each other when the other isn’t looking and they’re all moping sad eyes! What is going on?”

“Fuck if I know, Brady.”

“How long until they make up?”

“God, I hope it’s soon.”

Brady has a wild smirk on his face. “My bets are on tomorrow night. By the next morning, they’ll be acting back to normal— just you see.” His eyes are like a madman and Benny can’t see any logical conclusion to what he’s saying.

“No way in hell, kid. I’ll take you on that.”

But when he wakes up the next morning to Bucky’s horrible renditions of the birthday song, Benny knows he’s beat. That little shit knew too much. If Benny had known today was Gale Cleven’s birthday he never would have doubted that the Bucks would reconcile today.

And reconcile they do.

By the end of the night, Benny is convinced anyone in the Barrack who didn’t already know about the Bucks surely does by now because—

They. Are. Not. Subtle.

Or QUIET.

GOD.

Sometimes Benny wishes he could bleach his brain.

He loves his friend, but really, the two of them are colossal idiots.

There was more moaning tonight than usual and the culprit was none other than Buck, which is honestly surprising too since he’s the quiet one between the two of them for most of his life. But it is his birthday.

And— goddamn it— Benny does not need to think about what kind of present Bucky must be giving Buck tonight. Because that is just way too much.

But really? REALLY? In front of all of them?

Benny DeMarco is not getting paid enough to deal with the Bucks.

Benny shuffles into the mess in the morning and sits at his usual table waiting for Brady with his head in his hands. When he sees the Bucks walk in shoulder to shoulder, practically glued to the hip once again, talking quietly about the fuck knows what Buck smiling with his eyes and Bucky practically vibrating out of his skin with wild energy—

Well, Benny knows he’s lost the bet.

Damn, Brady.

Speak of the devil. The younger man takes a seat at the table across from him with a smirk, inclining his head toward the smitten couple a ways down the mess, but doesn’t say anything.

“Oh, shut up, Brady, I got enough of an earful last night.”

Brady’s eyebrows go up comically high at that. “Wait, no! Now you have to dish!”

Benny glares. “As if you didn’t know already that it was Cleven’s birthday yesterday.”

Brady has the decency to look sheepish at that. “I’ll admit, I may have had some insider knowledge there— but how was I supposed to know you didn’t also know? All’s fair, and that.”

“Whatever. You really sure you want to hear this one, Brady?”

“Since when have you been shy about the exploits and drama of the Bucks, Benny?” He’s sure his face must be red. Benny glances over his shoulder where the men are sitting across from each other, chatting like the tension of the last few days never happened.

“Okay, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. They— well, obviously I don’t know anything for certain, but…”

“But what? Spit it out, Benny!”

Benny covers his eyes with his hand. Why is this so hard to say? Is it because it’s his friends? Is it because they’re men? He doesn’t know, but it feels so secretive like he can’t say it in the daylight. He takes the hand away and leans in a little closer. “Well, I’m pretty sure that Bucky got Buck off last night. There was so much moaning and most all of it was Buck. Some sort of birthday surprise. It’s never been like that before, ya know?”

Brady’s eyes go comically wide, his jaw falling slack just so. His eyes dart over Benny’s shoulder to where the Majors are. Benny wonders if he’s broken the poor kid. After a moment, the biggest grin Benny has ever seen splits Brady’s face.

“OH MY GOD! FINALLY!”

What.

Benny is so confused.

Several people around them look over at Brady’s outburst.

“Brady, shut up!” Benny hisses between clenched teeth.

“Sorry! Sorry, it’s just. I mean, it’s kinda romantic, innit? I mean, you know they met at bootcamp, right? They always tell stories about falling in love during hopeless circumstances and how love overcomes everything— to actually see it happen? I mean, c’mon! Look at them! They’re beating the odds! They keep surviving everything and even though they both got downed in Germany, they both made it here to the same place? Beating the odds again? How can I not be excited that their friendship destined for more is becoming that? And that they’re making it work despite that?” Brady’s staring off into the distance, a goofy-looking smile on his face, his eyes practically filled with hearts, and Benny—

Benny is just staring at him with a dumbfounded expression.

What the actual fuck is going on here.

Benny gets it on a superficial level. What the kid said makes sense in a girly romance-novel sort of way, but it doesn’t connect for him the same way. The Bucks are just his friends and they’re just two guys who like each other and maybe had sex last night way too close to him in the barracks.

Brady is something else.

“Right.”

After that, everything escalates. The Bucks are all over each other day and night it seems, and Brady is always either talking to Benny about them or hounding him for information. It’s like the Bucks bring Brady hope in the camp, but Benny is concerned that it’s bordering on obsessive. As for the Bucks themselves… well, they’re still flying under the radar during the day to anyone who doesn’t know them, but for the love of all that is holy Benny just must know them because it’s like all he can see are their little glances and nods. The way they leave things around for each other in hidden gestures that mean something to the other. How one of them will quirk an eyebrow or leave space for the other to fill.

He doesn’t mean to notice things. He’s trained his whole life to be an observant man! It’s in his nature to pick up on interpersonal dynamics. He could do this with his eyes closed. (At night he does this with his eyes closed and he wishes he could just knock himself unconscious but he swears those men are making out in the bunk across the way. He just knows it).

So, when it’s Valentine’s Day and Buck gets a letter from his sweet, sweet Marge and Buck absolutely shuts down, Benny really should have seen that coming. It surprises him that he didn’t see it coming, actually.

“Brady they’re acting like idiots.”

“Why? It’s Valentine’s Day! They’ve been dating since at least Buck’s birthday— what could possibly have happened?”

“That’s the thing, Brady. I have a theory.”

“Uh-oh. What is it.”

“Listen here, kid, I dunno how well you’ll take this.”

Brady’s eyebrows draw together.

“You don’t think they broke up on Valentine’s, do you?” Brady sounds horrified even at the thought. Before Benny can get in a word edgewise to calm him down, Brady is talking again. “But even if they did have some big blowout fight— Benny! They would never stay apart for long! Look at those two through everything! I mean—“

“Brady! That’s not it at all!”

All the stress instantly drops from Brady’s frame and is replaced with confusion in a moment.

“It’s not? Then… what is it.”

Benny heaves a sigh and runs a weary hand through his hair. Not paid enough for this…

“Listen, Buck got another letter from Marge today, right, ‘cause it’s Valentine’s and all, and Bucky got all sad about it—“

“Right! That makes sense.”

“Stop interrupting me.”

“Sorry!”

Benny glares.

“Sorry,” Brady says again, hands up in a peace offering.

After another moment of staring Brady down, Benny continues. “As I was saying, Bucky got all hurt about the letter, so my theory is that these two idiots,” Benny leans in closer and drops his voice for security’s sake as he continues, “have been dicking around this whole time and never actually talked about the fact that they’re both in love with each other.”

Brady gasps— loudly. He looks even more horrified than when he thought the Bucks broke up.

“NO WAY!”

“SHUT UP!” Benny hisses, looking around to make sure nobody is watching them. “But think about it for a minute.

“There’s no way they haven’t talked about it, Benny! You said so yourself, they’re always up at night talking and whispering— for hours sometimes!”

Benny gives him a wary look. “Yeah, but you honestly think either Buck or Bucky is willingly talking about their feelings for hours and hours?”

Brady purses his lips. “You got me there.”

There’s a beat of silence between them as they both sit with the revelation of it all.

“What happens now, then?”

“Well, one thing is for sure, if Bucky mopes around the barracks for one more goddamn minute I’ll lose my fucking mind, so I’m going to go tell Buck that his boyfriend is being an idiot. And frankly? That he is too.”

“Well, you better let me know how it goes tomorrow! This is SERIOUS, Benny!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure whether I want to or not, you’ll find a way to get it out of me.”

Brady does, in fact, get the story out of Benny the next day.

“OH MY GOD HE WHAT????”

“Brady, would you calm down? And shut the hell up? I just told you what happened!”

“I know, I know! I just can’t believe it. You really mean to tell me that Bucky was moping in his own bunk after MONTHS of sleeping in Buck’s and when Buck confronted him about it he stood at the foot and talked and then suddenly aggressively climbed on top of Bucky for some sexually charged fight until they eventually just started making out?”

“That’s what I just said, Brady, yes.”

Brady starts laughing and doesn’t stop until there are tears in the corners of his eyes.

“I’m also pretty sure they said I love you, but I never can actually hear them. Just from the context.”

“OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOD THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE.”

“Brady SHUT UP!”

~Fin

#john brady #benny demarco #john egan x gale cleven #john “bucky” egan #buck x bucky #major buck cleven #bucky cleven #buck cleven #bucky x buck #mota #mota fic #mota fanfic #buck(y)#clegan #POV benny DeMarco

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fandomfluffandfuck · 3 months

Text

(Ignore the fact that this is a screenshot of this ask, lmao, I posted this before I was ready on accident (my app updated and I pressed post rather than safe as a draft because the buttons moved and I'm dumb like that, lol) and didn't have time right then to write what I wanted to for this so I just screen-shotted, then deleted the original post. It's fine, haha. It's here now.)

This reminded me of a fic I wrote a while ago! It's not big dick Steve and it's not mocking in a fun way (in the past, instead, people have been cruel about such a big dick), but... it's big dick Bucky who gets lightheaded when he gets a hard one with size queen Steve praising him and making him feel like no one else, so I just think it's something you might enjoy as well:

"Strangers Who Fit Together More Like Soulmates"

Now, though, YES, we can talk about big dick Steve who gets light-headed and thoughtless whenever he's hard:

If Bucky were feeling confessional, he would describe the way he feels like this--luxuriously pressing his chest up against Steve's broad back and gluing his hips to bubble butt--and, oh, boy, is it a lot of feeling. He can feel the slow, thick rush of his blood through his body, turning the heat up to a feverish, summer level--the kind of summer night that you spend sweating, lying back on your bed over top of your sheets. After all, it's that humid and sticky. So hot that you're thinking about how bad it would really be if some monster came up and snagged your uncovered ankle because... it can't fucking be as bad as this heat. He's fucking hot.

Sweating.

Bucky can feel that, too, his sweat pooling on his skin underneath his clothes. Steve has to be sweating, too. They're going to have to peel apart...eventually. But more pressingly than the heat and sweat and flush afflicting him, he can feel the strain and twinge in his wrist. His muscles ache as he grips and strokes, jacking Steve off while he pretends to be able to wash the dishes. And Bucky hasn't even been at this teasing torture for long!

You'd think after so many months of getting so, so intimately aquatinted with Steve's monster cock, that his body would be used to it. But his body isn't--it still doesn't know what's hit it because he's colliding, regularly, with a fucking semi-truck. Bucky doesn't stand a chance.

With another handful of fast, sloppy strokes that tease more than feel satisfying, Steve sways forward into the counter with a low, aching noise. It's like a tree threatening to fall, Bucky swears it. His big, big body and matching cock. Bucky could climb him like a tree if not for how unsteady Steve gets whenever he's turned on.

The way he twitches and weakens leaves Bucky's arm pinned between Steve's body and the counter, one of the sharp points of Steve's hips and the equally sharp edge of the countertop dig into Bucky. He doesn't care. He's ignoring that ache alongside the lactic acid building up in his muscles--that acid, too, stokes the flames inside him, he burns hot--Bucky murmurs, husky into Steve's ear, "biiiiig boy, yeah, that's it." He won't stop teasing him, no matter how much his arm complains or how stuck it gets.

Instead, Bucky switches tactics, he didn't start this ambush for nothing. So, he squeezes him with his whole hand. He can't touch all of him like this, but it doesn't matter. More than a handful. Regardless, it's more than enough for Steve to be gripped and grabbed based on how he jerks forward quickly, gasping low, under his breath with a barely there huff of, "Buck-!"

Bucky pays his breathy sound no mind, replacing it in the tension-thick air between them with his own words, "I fucking love feeling you swell up in my hand," Steve moans, dropping a thankfully plastic container with a clatter, "gimme it, baby," Bucky goads him, hyping him up, giving up the pretense of just an innocent reach-around-and-cop-a-feel to an all-out fuck-session. "Gimme it. I wanna feel it." Bucky squeezes his hand around his shaft under his sweatpants. Steve's gone from soft and sweet to solid and thick so fast that Bucky's fingers no longer meet around his dick. "One day," Bucky muses, stretching onto his tip-toes to whisper right in Steve's ear, letting his lips brush his skin just a little, just enough to make him shudder, "I'm gonna shove you in me when you're half hard and I'm just gonna sit on this fat cock," Bucky squeezes unforgivingly until Steve makes a stupid guh sound, punched-out, "feeling it get bigger in me."

Steve shivers again, this time more intense. Oh, yeah, he's getting weaker.

Bucky nips at the hot shell of his ear, already turning red. How he still has enough blood in his body to blush while his cock fills up so heavy and thick will remain a mystery to Bucky.

"How's that sound, huh?" He teases.

Steve just whimpers.

Bucky had to get on his tip-toes before, but he relaxes now because Steve is falling, slowly, uncontrollably slouching down the counter. He'll end up on the floor if Bucky keeps going, getting dizzy as his blood finally decides it all has to go where Bucky wants it... in this nice, fat dick.

There's no harm in speeding the process up, making him dizzy, "you're such a slut with this huge thing, getting it up so fast, so often."

"Buck!" Steve gasps again, his muscle-bound body pressed so harshly against the restricted pressure and friction of Bucky's hand in his pants that Bucky starts to feel sharp tingles in his fingers, pins and needles that somehow make the silky hard sensation of Steve's dick in his hand sweeter.

"I can't believe you. I can't believe how slutty you are," Bucky kisses the nape of his neck lushly, then he scrapes his teeth against the top bump of his spine when Steve lets his head hang, the rest of him wilting as his dick swells. "Do you know how eager you are? You'll fucking crumble to your knees for me any time, any day, all I gotta do is get that blood flowing south and you're a goner, babyy--"

Steve inhales so shakily it sounds like he's at the end of a really good cry.

Perfect.

Bucky uses his weakness, his going limp, to his advantage, curling his other hand around his cinched waist to pull him back--giving himself more room to work. That way his hand doesn't tingle so much as he works hard to stroke all the way up and all the way down that big fucking gun he's packing in his sweats. Armed and dangerous.

Steve, with this little (not so little) head talking louder than his big head, lets him move him. Mold him. Stroke him. Jerk him off. Faster. harder.

He slouches another inch. his hands have long since stopped trying to clean their dishes, instead, wet and sudsy, he's gripping the edges of the sink for dear life.

"Should I get you a fainting couch, big guy?" The more he talks, the wider Bucky's Cheshire smile stretches. He's sure he looks feral, how could he not? The weight of his dick in his hand, more and more of Steve's whole body weight pressing back against Bucky, leaning into his chest, letting him have it all. "'Cause we sure as shit need something to catch you when you fall every time I bend over and you see my ass? You fuckin' horndog."

Steve scrambles, suddenly, to touch him. His dish-water-soaked, red-hot hands the size of dinner plates wrap themselves around both of Bucky's forearms. Bucky feels the squeeze as he jerks him slower but harder, much less teasing and more pleasuring. Steve is unsteady. Bucky is all that's holding him up and he won't be able to for long, he's fucking heavy. When his cock twitches in his grip once, twice, leaving Bucky with a mouth full of drool, he starts taking his big guy toward the living room. Walking slow and carefully--pushing really. Pushing this fucking tank toward the nearest soft place for him to crash.

"I can't fucking believe you, big boy," Bucky's mouth runs as he goes, "where do you keep this thing?" As he says it, he goes alllll the way from the base to the tip. Bucky still can't believe how long and how thick he is. He feels like it's a fucking joke. When he first saw Steve naked, he couldn't pick his jaw up off the floor. He thought, o-fucking-kay, you're a show-er then? But as he got to touch and taste and explore, running wild. And it turns out Steve's actually a grower, and then Bucky couldn't only not close his mouth but he couldn't speak. He couldn't fit the whole thing in his mouth and stuffed down his throat either.

"How do you fit it in your pants?" The questions pour out as they get into the living room, Steve stumbling worse now, dizzier. He wouldn't be able to differentiate up from down if he tried, Bucky's pretty sure. The only up and down he knows is Bucky's fist fighting to stretch around his cock, Bucky's mouth gaping to suck him down, Bucky's asshole struggling to swallow him whole. Up and down, up and down, up and down--bouncing on that unreal cock. "How do you fit it in me? I can't believe you do, every time I look at it. Jesus Christ."

For such a big guy, his voice is so cute and small, mewling, whining, and pawing at him with clumsy hands, trying to get him to do more than talk and jerk him off. He wants faster. He wants more. Slut.

"It's good you go so dumb, baby," Bucky murmurs, taking his hands off him and throwing him onto their couch instead. Tiiiimber, Bucky snickers to himself, watching him bounce on the couch. The springs squeak and Steve whimpers, writhing with the unfair treatment. Why'd you stop?, those huge puppy dog eyes, rimmed red, threatening to spill tears, ask. "'Cause if you didn't get so dumb, you'd get some big ideas of doing the work, wouldn't you?"

Steve's too out of it to nod, but it doesn't matter. Bucky doesn't need his silly little input, all he needs is that cock, that gorgeous body, and the stupid expression on his face--eyelids heavy, mouth slack, cheeks hot.

Out. of. it.

"And we can't have that!" He bites, teasing as he climbs onto Steve's prone, sprawled form, straddling his tree-trunk thighs and unceremoniously shoving his sweats down just to watch that horse cock bounce up and slap his clenching tummy. Steve's chest heaves, a wail ripped out of him and causing him to almost double over. Bucky shoves him back, "if you're thinking, you're trying to finger me open and you're just too impatient with a dick like that."

Steve makes some garbled noise, it sounds like he's drowning.

Bucky chuckles, half-amusement, half-breath, throwing his head back with it. He's enjoying himself so fucking much, his hands working that cock and his hips grinding against Steve's solid thigh. "I gotta stretch myself open for you with a dick like what you got. I, I gotta drag it out," he pauses to moan, still grinding, "'cause I'd split at the seams with dick if I didn't get nice and loose for you."

Steve bucks underneath him, nearly throwing him off. It just makes Bucky chuckle more--more moan and breath in the sound. He's so sweet and dumb. Nothing matters to him like this, blissed out, and it's so easy to get him here that it's a wonder Bucky doesn't keep him like this all the time. Yeah, that sounds good, a living, breathing, fuck-machine.

There's no lube over here, though, so unfortunately, Bucky can't start getting sloppy and loose for his human dildo. He'll just have to do the next best thing and jack him off until he cums, then, once he's pumping buckets all over himself, Bucky can scoop it up and use it, along with all his eager, slippery pre-cum to slick himself up so Steve can fill him fuller. More dick. More cum.

It won't be hard to get Steve there--

"If only that brain was as big as that big dick, hm, sweetie? Then maybe you could actually get something done rather than just letting me lead you around by the cock."

Steve whines roughly.

--yeah. No sweat. Give Bucky a challenge, c'mon.

#asks #fandomfluffandfuck #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #big dick steve #big sub steve #dom bucky #teasing #lots of obscenities

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