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#the blues got shafted so fucking hard. they barely interact with each other. they get no resolution at all.
carmarriage · 5 months
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red vs blue restoration blew such huge chunks im actually mad. like completely enraged. and i wouldnt have it any other way. rest in peace you son of a bitch
#like under the conditions it was made. i can understand why it is the way it is.#but i would genuinely be hard pressed to imagine a way it couldve been worse.#they brought tex back. which is like the number one thing they should have never done under any circumstance. leave the poor woman ALONEEEE#wash had absolutely nothing to do except act like an idiot for no reason and Be Crazy. leave him alone too#carolina showed up just to immediately get her shit kicked in. she doesnt even say a single word to tex so what was the point#and i fucking love tucker so im biased but WHAT!!!!! HOW DO YOU DECIDE TO DO META TUCKER AND FUMBLE HIM THAT HARD!!!!#tucker doesnt get a single line reflecting on Literally Being Tortured for (from his perspective) TEN YEARS????#not a single genuine emotional moment for him???? just gets up and says ''oww that sucked. bow chicka bow wow haha am i right fellas''#the blues got shafted so fucking hard. they barely interact with each other. they get no resolution at all.#wash and tucker didnt even talk. i dont think they were ever even in the same frame. if you wanted me to kill myself you couldve just said#also i havent watched s15-17 since they released and i didnt bother with rvb0 but when did doc die. huh#carolina said something about ''what happened on chorus'' and HUH? did i just miss that completely. what the fuck#also where is donut. he wasnt even in this. im assuming something happened to him that i just dont remember during/after s18 but i miss him#sorry for being so mean lmfao i dont usually like complaining so much but man...........#they didnt even make grimmons canon. smh my head#anyway rvb ended after s13 ❤️ yayyy
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bikwin5 · 1 year
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pikmin 4 thouts
i haven't actually posted that much about pikmin 4 now that i think about it but i finished it a while ago. as close to 100% as i think it can be. i don't have the drive to make a complete review so i just wrote down a list of things i liked and didn't like. there are no huge spoilers in this until the very end
THINGS I LIKED -adding a marketable dog is usually a sign of getting desperate. the simpsons did a whole episode about it. even in the ask the devs interview they were like yeah we added a dog to create appeal. but despite all that i ended up warming up to oatchi not just as a character but his gameplay as well. letting him swim, carry, attack, and act as a second leader all works very natural in pikmin's world and he basically acts like a very big and powerful pikmin. it takes a bit of getting used to learning the new mechanics but i think it was a good idea overall. still kind of wish they went with the playable bulborb idea instead. -the biodiversity is kind of ridiculous in this one. pikmin 4 has 100+ different creatures and a piklopedia to interact with them all, making for endless hours of fun without even playing the game. in fact there are so many creatures it felt like some had a pikmin 3 problem where they weren't used enough even though this is a big ass game!! i also like the return of pikmin 2 styled bosses in contrast to 3's where most of them felt very scripted. -the selection of things to collect is no doubt the best in this one. i like that completing a set of treasures lets you look at everything at once. -i like the hub area. its nice to walk around a bit. -having 8 pikmin types is a bold move but they pulled it off pretty well. the 3 types limit on the surface actually works well. i like that each area has "recommended" types but allows you to swap out others regardless. it makes it so advanced players can do more tag barrel switching if they want to. -the level design feels a bit of a departure from past games with how expansive each area is but i do like it, it keeps things fresh. there's still a lot of depth to clearing out each area and cave efficiently. -it was at least harder than pikmin 3!!!! yippee!!!!!! -the gwafics are goregous in this one. pikmin is one of those series that only looks better with visual fidelity. -i like the equipment upgrading system. i enjoy how it allows certain equipment to be optional even after you already make it. this lets me get rid of the power whistle because i don't like it.
THINGS I DIDNT LIKE -my #1 complaint is the auto-lockon feature. i desperately wish i could turn it off. i think they intend you to have motion controls on for more precise aiming but i don't want that. i just want to aim with the stick. the lockon makes some things trivial and some unnecessarily frustrating. there's a FUN to be had in trying to get perfect aim with pikmin! it's a BALANCE!!!!!!!!! but maybe nintendo doesn't realize that… nintendo if you patch this game to give me an option to turn off auto lockon i'll be a good kid and buy your new mario. -pikmin 4 has the best pikmin AI in the series but there some small changes are so frustrating. in particular they REALLY hate the idea of using more than the minimum number of pikmin to carry something. they physically stop you from throwing for a bit and then pikmin that are already idle don't even bother. it's a small thing but it's persistent and it drives me insane. -balancing 8 types of pikmin is not easy. that being said i think pikmin 3's types in particular got shafted a bit. rock pikmin have a weird nerf where they can die from crushing but only on hard surfaces? i guess it's to prevent trivializing certain bosses. winged pikmin don't act much different but they feel like what blue pikmin were to 3 in that they barely get a chance to shine. it's fucked because all the earlier areas probably have winged pikmin paths programmed in that most people will never see… it breaks my heart just thinking about it -ALSO the white pikmin damage nerf was totally unneccessary. as a result all the poison themed enemies are so weak and oatchi can dispatch them easily with the poison upgrade so its like why are these guys still candypop bud exclusive -the controls might be almost TOO tight. particularly the oatchi bunchup is really OP when it comes to fights. i think this game throws a lot of tough situations at you but jumping on oatchi trivializes them a lot of the time. -enemies not respawning is really weird. particularly on the surface where they NEVER respawn. it kind of strips the organic feeling of pikmin away. -everyone says this but too much tutorial. please stop making the characters talk to me every time a pikmin dies on screen. i'd say it feels like nintendo is regressing to the skyward sword era but not quite, if they did then then there would be a cutscene every time you break down a wall.
looking back at this section i sure did CAPITALIZE a bunch of arbitrary words. i think shepherd was right when she said bernard's speaking style rubs off on you.
VERY MINOR NITPICKS -i wish my man hajime wakai was still doing the soundtrack cause you can tell he didnt. pikmin 4's soundtrack isn't bad it's still pretty "pikminlike" but i think you can tell its not the same as it was -for having a "dandori" theme pikmin 4 doesn't feel nearly as incentivized to be efficient as much as 3 or even 1. the fact that night expeditions take up full days bothers me and i can't help but wonder how much replays will be affected with how much stuff they crammed in the main game.
BIG SPOILERS AFTER THIS POINT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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-i think olimar and louie got a lot of fun exposition but the new characters not so much. it feels like they got disregarded later in the story. -final boss was the easiest in the whole series. yes even more than hey! to me. i lost like maybe 5 pikmin total. i think what makes it so easy is that there is very little risk in engaging, you throw 2 purple pikmin on the tail and when it falls over you rush with oatchi and that's it. the one scary thing about it is the final phase where it can do the roar that scatters pikmin into death pits but i didn't get hit by it because i'm epic and awesome like that. even then having one difficult thing at the end of an otherwise easy final boss just feels kind of cheap. -i wish the lineup trumpet wasn't a secret late game upgrade because i would have liked to play the rest of the game with it.
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bi-ressler · 4 years
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ii. love the dead (Resslington)
My apologies (srsly), but @skiesfallithurts requested a Thing and who am I to disobey (even though it took me a month... o dear.)... Anyway, pre-canon setting again ‘cause apparently I’m useless at anythung else. Enjoy! (Or something.)
Word count: 2,625  //  read HERE on ao3.
TW: Major Character Death, Necrophilia || EXPLICIT, minors keep away!!!
_______________________________________________________________ It was as refreshing a sight as it was unnerving. Never in the last four years that the young agent was on Reddington’s heels has he been so – still. Quiet. Like the calm after the storm, when the waves were finally settling after the big uproar and the sea was overcome with peace. 
Reddington hadn’t known Agent Ressler all too well. He’d seen him here and there – an annoying brat that made his life just a tad harder – relentlessly and tirelessly hunting the criminal, and Red really had to give him that: he hadn’t expected Ressler to get as far as he did. In fact, he’d laughed it off whenever Dembe had tried to warn him. 
And now this. 
Reddington had been looking forward to getting to know the young agent. As irritating as his presence was and his character seemed to be (smug, arrogant, patriotic... what a fool), as much did it intrigue him – if only for playing around. In the end, those alpha-males were always the easiest and most fun to be manipulated; so self-focussed and convinced of their own strength. 
But he wouldn’t get the chance. 
How the agent had found Reddington’s safe house just outside the city of Valencia, he didn’t know. Someone must have talked, and he’d be damned if he let them go. But right now, there were more urgent matters at hand, more urgent questions to answer as he contemplated the dead body on his couch. Who had killed Donald Ressler?  And why? To do Reddington a favour? To – get rid of a rival? To frame Reddington? As a present? Many reasons came to mind.
He’d sent Dembe out to see a few contacts as soon as they’d moved the body from the couch to the living room table. He had a lot of questions and the agent’s body might just be the only way to get some decent answers.
Pulling on a pair of disposable gloves, he looked at the body before him. “Such a pretty face.”
Refreshing. Unnerving. For once not overambitiously chasing after Reddington. For once just... resting. How peacefully he lay there, like no storm could disturb him, like no nightmare could be cruel enough to wake him from his endless dreams. And what a pretty face he had. 
“What a pity”, Reddington mumbled. With swift, clinical hands, he unbottened the agent’s shirt, undid his tie, stripped him bare. He still had his badge and gun and there wasn’t any blood; neither shot nor stabbed, nor were there any signs of a fight on the flawless, pale skin. 
Out of reflex Reddington wet his lips. This felt strange – it wasn’t that Red hasn’t done an autopsy before; he knew what to do. Not as good as Mr. Kaplan or an actual M.E., but he knew his way around. But Ressler’s body was still a little warm and looked like it could open its cold, dead eyes any moment, and Red almost felt like this whole setting was far too intimate for the two of them. 
When Ressler had still been alive, it had been all cold and callous between them; behind every interaction lay badly-concealed hate, and the only thing Reddington had ever seen in Ressler’s eyes (apart from the obvious vanity and arrogance, no, this lay deeper) was untamed anger.
And now, the agent’s freckled skin felt really tender unter Reddington’s gloved fingers. Cutting him open would be such a shame. But first, he wanted to look for punctures; any signs of injection. 
He started at the most obvious places. 
First the neck. Slim and strong, and Red could just imagine the way it must have looked when Ressler threw his head back in ecstasy, inviting whoever fucked him to bite down on the delicate skin, taste the sweat, feel the moan or scream reverberate on their tongue. It was an appealing thought; and when he lowered his head he didn’t stop himself from smelling the dead skin. There were faint hints of a sweet after-shave (not what Reddington had expected, but who was he not to appreciate such a pleasant surprise?), and the stronger scent of dried sweat. His lips brushed against Ressler’s adam’s apple and Reddington sighed.
He knew he should get going. With a last sniff over the point where Ressler’s pulse should have been he got back to work, examining the soft skin. His fingers trailed down the sides of the agent’s neck, almost caressing, but not quite; Reddington didn’t want to give in to the urge to stroke the flesh and feel the decreasing warmth of this beautiful body. 
No puncture at the neck. The arms were next.  Strong arms – freckled, too. Almost automatically his fingers traced veins and sinews and muscles; from the shoulder (where he could see the scar of a shot wound and, wondering if he was responsible for it, his breath hitched), over the strong biceps to the elbow, down his forearm, stroking the fine hair along his way, and finally resting on Ressler’s fingers.  He sighed. There was no time to play around now. Looking closely, he was unable to find any signs of injection. But the longer he kept looking at the pale skin, the soft muscles, the longer his fingers kept working on it, the more could he feel his arousal against the fabric of his light grey trousers. There was no denying it – he was undoubtedly attracted to the dead man. Maybe he could allow himself to take a closer look; appreciate the naked form before him.  A blood test, his mind helpfully chimed in, and quick. 
Work first. Amusement second.  He took out a syringe from the medical kit, and pushing the needle into a vein in the crook of Ressler’s arm, he drew blood. Enough to determine whether this boy had been poisoned or not.  Laying the syringe aside and putting the blood probe into the freezer until he could give it to his contact in toxicology, he narrowed his eyes to take in the sight in front of him. Like a predator over its prey; like a hungry God swallowing entire star systems; like Tantalus dying of parching thirst, his salvation so close. 
A soft but strong body; full of edges and curves, scars and freckles like galaxies, and Reddington wanted to breathe him in and devour this boy, pressing his arousal into the side of the table to relieve pressure while his hand rested on Ressler’s chest, feeling the complete stillness there. His thumb brushed up over a cold nipple. His heartbeat sped up. He got rid of the medical gloves, needed to feel skin on skin.
His gaze wandered downwards, south, always south, to where Ressler’s limp cock lay against his thigh.  “Not just a pretty face”, Reddington mused as his hands followed down the same trail his eyes had burnt into the milky skin. Warm fingers brushing against the softened abdomen; Reddington could just imagine how those muscles must have clenched and contracted with every movement and effort, during a workout or a fight. A lazy smile tugged at his lips and he let his hands wander lower. 
An involuntary wetting of parted lips. A snake’s eyes taking in each squarecentimetre of the body. Lust coming up, rushing though his veins, making him feel so alive, so truly alive! 
He stroked Ressler’s cock like it was his own, while his other hand found its way to his own belt, opening it in a swift motion. The thought that he probably shouldn’t do this only crossed his mind for half a second of hesitation, and then the beast took over. 
His left hand firmly around his own hard cock, massaging, being mirrored by the right hand around Ressler’s shaft, and he let out a long sigh. But as much as he was working against the pressure inside of him, it just wasn’t enough to watch the soft, cold flesh under his fingers. 
His mouth worked better. He was closer now, tasted Donald and smelled him – not like before at his neck, no, far more intimate and so much more fulfilling – and yes, sucking a hard cock was easier (more familiar, too) but the way Reddington could do whatever he pleased with this beautiful boy without getting a reaction in any way – no moan, no shifting of muscles, no hardening of his cock – that did things to him. 
Things that made his right hand pick up its pace in need. 
He was greedy in business, and he was greedy as a lover. Right now, especially, as his tongue slid over the backside of the limp cock and his teeth painfully scraped the sensitive skin. No. Not painfully. Donald couldn’t feel it. It didn’t matter – Red could just snap his jaws shut and bite that pretty cock off. He’d always wondered how that would feel. 
He didn’t, though, not now. He needed more. More than his left hand digging into Donald’s thigh (strong muscles there, but all limp, and forever so) and his right one pumping his own cock. Giving Ressler’s dick a last deep suck, he slowly released it from his mouth, savouring the taste on his wet lips and tongue. 
“Good boy”, he drawled. “Such a good boy.”
Getting Donald into a position to fuck him proved to be easier than he would have thought. He just had to pull his body half off the table – in such a way that his ass was right on the edge and he just had to keep the legs up and spread. Reaching over to the mayo stand beside the table, he grabbed the scalpel and, dragging the cold steel across Donald’s cheek without cutting skin, said: “I really wish you’d live to feel this, darling boy. All the fun times we could have had. It’s a real shame.” 
Guiding the scalpel to Donald’s abdomen, he looked into the dead, blue eyes as he made the cut. As if Reddington expected a flinch, a visible sign of pain or pleasure; any reaction at all. But there was only emptiness written across that lovely, white face. Hollow emptiness like an abandoned seashell. 
He didn’t cut too deep, nor too wide; the blood came pooling from the wound and Reddington relished the tepid, thick feeling of it against his fingers. He wanted to dive all in, reach around Ressler’s heart with his very hands or hold his breath and drink him out – tear the cut wide open and maybe, down there somewhere, between organs and blood and torn muscle, he’d find traces of the abundance of Donald’s humanity, and he would swallow it all to make up for his own bestiality. 
He reached two fingers in; could feel the abdominal wall giving in, the layer of skin and muscle parting. His fingers coated in blood, he pulled them out again, resisting the temptation to lick it right off; instead, he coated his cock with it. Pants around his ankles, he positioned himself between Donald’s legs, pulling them up and resting them on his shoulders so the agent’s hole was bare and nice on display.
A smirk spread on Reddington’s face – the hole didn’t look as virgin and unused as he’d assumed. “Naughty boy”, he drawled, “but do not worry, Donald, I won’t tell Audrey.” (Truth to be told – he didn’t even know if they were still engaged; with all the time Ressler spent abroad it would have been fairly likely for her to leave him out of frustration and loneliness. Maybe that was part of the reason why the agent had seemed more determined to catch him during the last couple of weeks.)
Preparation wasn’t neccessary. What for? He couldn’t hurt Donald; could only imagine the pained gasps of pleasure the younger man would surely have given were he alive. He could be as selfish as he wanted with this boy, taking what he needed without giving a damn about his partner’s feelings, desires and boundaries – something he’d never do with a living person. Pleasure, he believed, was to be shared between the consenting partners, after all. 
But Donald couldn’t share his pleasure as he was slowly pushing in, feeling the friction of the unmoving flesh. Not a flinch, not a quiver, not a twitch. Certainly unfamiliar, but not unpleasant – almost like fucking a whore. Unyielding and cool, indifferent and practised. 
He adjusted his hold of Donald’s right leg. Didn’t want it to fall. And then he was all in, right to the base. And dear Lord, that felt good! So much better than his own hand or someone else’s mouth, and he started thrusting, not going all the way in anymore – he needed more, and faster, and his fingers dug deep into the cold skin of Donald’s legs, and he looked at what he had done. 
The pale, gorgeous seashell face with those empty, blue eyes that stared far beyond anyone’s comprehension, that have seen so much hurt and violence in their wake – “Yeah, rest, my boy, oh -” – and the deep cut right under Donald’s ribcage; blood spilling out (he thrust harder), running onto the table and ruining the white tablecloth (not that he minded). 
“Look at you”, he mumbled under his flat breath, “I don’t think you intended to end like this when you joined the FBI, hm?”
What a waste of a young, bright man. Another naive, wide-eyed boy hunting for something bigger than him, some meaning to his life. But hasn’t anybody told him that there was no such thing? That there was only darkness and depravity out there, waiting to catch him, too? 
He pushed in harder, his breath coming in greedy gasps, and he pulled the legs closer to him, slightly changing the angle of his thrusts, and pounded in again and again and again – 
The tablecloth was all red by now, at least where Donald’s torso lay, but the blood didn’t cease to ooze out of the abdominal wound. It was almost hypnotising, the way the incoming light gently trembled on the deep red liquid, spilling over the edge of the layer of skin and muscle with almost each thrust. 
“We’re nearly there”, he panted, “just a little more, Donald – yeah, yeah, you’re doing good –”
He could feel the familiar pressure building up, pressing his hips further forward onto the abused hole, and he knew – only a few more thrusts, very few, and he’d tumble over the edge, drunk and high and untamed. His grip around Donald’s legs tightened; his breath a low groan caught in his throat. And then his gaze fell on Donald’s cock that lay against his stomach, moving along with each of Reddington’s thrusts. Some blood had found its way down there, making the trimmed pubic hair sticky and red, and the few drops that ran down the limp shaft almost looked like precum. 
With a raw moan his hip snapped and blissful release flooded his veins – and Donald’s ass. All his muscles clenched, fingers painfully deep in Ressler’s flesh, and he thrust once again, and again, until he was spent and with a sigh, his face relaxed and he could let go of Donald’s legs, pulling out of him. A mixture of semen and blood dripped from the agent’s hole and Reddington sunk to his knees, unable to stand for the moment; he felt like a rye field during a summer storm. 
The heat of Spain in mid-August came back to Reddington’s consciousness and he wiped the sheet of sweat off his forehead.
He sighed again. Time to call Mr. Kaplan, get rid of this mess. 
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avintagekiss24 · 5 years
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Piper’s Creek [2/10]
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Pairing: Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers
Word Count: 2293
Warnings: language
Rating: M - language, mentions of masturbation
Link: AO3
Summary: Sam Wilson is a simple man. He likes to do simple things, like going fishing on a warm summer day. Little does Sam know, this fishing trip will not only lead him to his soulmate, but into a world of ancient folklore.
Square Filled: K5 - Scars for @buckybarnesbingo
A/N: Thank you guys for the comments! I’m glad you’re enjoying it so far! We get a little more interaction between Sam and Bucky in this chapter :)
If anyone does not want to be tagged anymore, just let me know! I know it’ll get annoying being tagged everyday because I went overboard and have to have this all posted by the 30th, lol. You won’t hurt my feelings, promise!
Again, the chapter title image and the portraits are by the lovely @waltermittie !! They are so prettttttyyyyyy!
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Sam pushes through the trees, his eyes wide, his lips slightly parted. The sound of rushing water from the creek is in the distance, pulling Sam closer and closer toward it. It’s been weeks since he was last here, since he last saw what he saw. He tried to forget about it, to push it deep into his subconscious but every minute that passed only made him more and more curious. He couldn’t get that man out of his head. 
Night after night, day after day, he replayed the scene over and over and over again. He had etched the small red star tattoo into his mind, those piercing blue eyes somehow always finding him in his dreams. He was too afraid to focus on the details, but in the darkness, every subtle memory became sharp and clear. 
He’d lay awake at night, staring up at the slowly spinning fan as he remembered the water dripping from the man’s hickory colored hair. The small droplets of water slipping down his chiseled chest and to his carved abs. The muscles of his back flexing as he splashed water on himself. His ass as he ascended from the water and to the bank. Sam’s thoughts got the best of him most nights. His hand would inch down his stomach, through the rough patch of hair and wrap around his rigid erection as his eyes fluttered shut.
He squeezed his thick cock before slowly dragging his hand up and down his shaft at the thought of the wolf-man's damp, tanned skin. His stomach would tighten as he pushed his hips into his curled hand as he thought of the perfect pink lips of the stranger. Wild fantasies of that mouth and those lips wrapped around Sam’s cock would send him right over the edge. He’d cum - hard - spurting into his hand and against his cotton sheets as his memories fade away. 
He was embarrassed at first, told himself he was being ridiculous, but the first chance he got  - the very next day, in fact -  he was stroking his cock to the naked man in the creek. He came within minutes. Every day that passed, the creek called to him. He had to see him again. He’d resisted the urge for as long as he could, but alas, here he was again, not even sure what he’d do or say if he was faced by the wolf-man again. 
Sam moves through the trees and takes a breath as he comes to the bank of the rushing creek. He turns his head slowly to the left and to the right, squinting his eyes as he scans his surroundings. Good going genius, what are you supposed to do now? He checks his phone for the time, maybe the man is a creature of habit. Sam sits in the mud and pulls his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them as his heart thumps against his rib cage. 
Several minutes pass before the familiar sound of crunching leaves and snapping twigs drifts toward him. Sam sits up straighter, his lips parting as he drags in deep breaths, his eyes zeroing in on the brush just across the creek. The leaves begin to shake and move, splitting as something moves through it. A howl sounds seconds later and Sam’s heart leaps into his chest. It’s him. 
A grey and white wolf emerges from behind the overgrown shrubs and trees, its head low as it pads forward. Sam’s eyes widen as he swallows the lump in his throat as he watches the beast dip his nose to the ground to sniff the wet grass and mud. It shakes it head and huffs loudly before it takes a step toward the water, finally lifting it’s head. 
Sam stands slowly as he locks his vision with the haunting blue irises of the beast. It lowers its head and sounds a low growl, baring its teeth as Sam holds up his hands, “It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you.”
The animal’s growl intensifies, a deep bark erupting from its chest as it takes a defensive stance. Sam lets out shaky breathes, his heart racing as he keeps his hands up where it can see them. All he can imagine is the thing leaping across the creek and biting his head clean off in one fell swoop. Way to go, asshole. 
“I’m Sam,” he says loudly, over the rushing water, “I-I was here a few weeks ago. I s-s-s-saw you, um, turn, in the water. I was uh,” He points nervously to his right, “I was fishing here. Remember? Can you- do you remember?”
The wolf picks up its head a little, his growl dissipating to almost nothing as Sam stammers through his introduction. It sniffs the air, lifting his snout into the air before linking eyes with the terrified man again. Sam takes a small step back as the wolf steps into the water, keeping its blue eyes on him as it crosses. 
“Oh, fuck,” Sam whispers to himself, swallowing hard again, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
It emerges from the water seconds later, inches from Sam. It moves cautiously, sniffing the ground while keeping its eyes linked with Sam’s as it approaches. It sniffs Sam’s feet, and then up his leg slightly before taking a step back. Sam blinks, and is suddenly face to face with the long haired brunette. The man cocks his head to the side as he glances up and down Sam’s lean frame. 
He sends his eyes back up to Sam’s, his lips in a hard line as his eyes move back and forth between Sam’s, “Why are you here, Sam?”
His voice is low and absent of any infliction, “I uh, I don’t really know.” Sam admits, his eyes dropping from the hard stare of the stranger, “I just can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispers.
The man quirks his lips a little, his eyebrows lifting, “I guess that’s fair. Not everyday you run across a werewolf.”
“A were- a werewolf?” Sam stutters as he blinks his eyes furiously, “You’re a werewolf?”
He nods slowly, never taking his eyes off of Sam, “I am.”
Sam nods quickly as his heartbeat pounds in his ears, “Of course.”
Silence passes between them for several minutes as each one sizes up the other. Sam’s eyes dip down the man’s impeccable body laced with rippling muscles. Up close, Sam has a better view of the various scars embedded on the man’s skin. Some large, some small, some new, some old. They tell tales of his embattled existence and his dominance out here in the wild. 
There’s a long, deep slash across his lower abdomen, years old, if not decades. It’s jagged, the skin tight and raised, darker than the rest of his skin. Sam’s fingers begin to itch with the want to reach out and rub his fingertips against it. His eyes follow it until it disappears into the dark patch of hair on his lower half. Sam bites his lip as he eyes the man’s length. His mouth starts to water unconsciously, his mind starting to run wild with his fantasies again.
“See something you like, Sam?”
Sam snaps out of his daze and his mouth drops open in embarrassment. A smile tugs at the man's lips as he drags his eyes down Sam’s body once more. Sam’s dick begins to twitch against his jeans as he breathes in the natural scent of him. The man before him is both overtly and subtly sexy. His sexual prowess oozes from him, mixing with his earthy scent to make the perfect concoction of sexual attraction. Sam is putty, all he has to do is say the word. 
He turns away from Sam and moves into the water, leaving Sam to ogle his toned ass as he moves. He sinks into the water, disappearing beneath it before popping back up seconds later. Water slips and slides down his pecs and shoulders, highlighting his muscles in new and provocative ways. 
He glances over his shoulder toward Sam, “You coming in?”
Sam wastes zero time. As soon as the words fall from the man’s lips, Sam is kicking out of his sneakers. He pulls his shirt over his head and fumbles with his jeans, stepping out of them quickly before he moves into the water. The gold necklace around his neck glints in the sunlight as he pushes through the rough water toward the brunette man. He steps right up to him with no hesitation, standing mere inches from the smirking man. 
“I’m Bucky.”
Sam’s breath hitches in his throat. His eyes widen as the name rolls off of the man's tongue, “Bucky?” Is this him?
“Mmhmm,” Bucky nods, “Bucky Barnes.”
Sam nods slowly, “Hi Bucky,” he whispers as his mind races. 
Bucky pushes a breath through his nostrils as his smile widens, “Hi Sam.”
Bucky reaches for Sam’s hand, bringing it out of the water and flattening his palm to his, before intertwining their fingers, “I think we both know why you’re out here,” he whispers.
Sam swallows as he as his eyes wander over Bucky. He watches as Bucky turns his hand over in his and rubs his thumb over the imprinted name. It’s been there for years. Sam still remembers it like it was yesterday. Just as the clock struck 12:01am on his eighteenth birthday, the name Bucky appeared on his skin. 
Bucky’s eyes are soft as he brings them back up to meet Sam’s. He smiles slowly, bringing his hand to Sam’s cheek. He rubs his smooth skin with his thumb, tilting his head as his eyes move around Sam’s face, “You’re beautiful,” he whispers. 
“So are you,” Sam responds, his voice airy and shaky. 
Bucky’s smile widens into a toothy grin and Sam loses his breath almost completely at the sheer beauty of it. This is it. This is him. Bucky lifts his other hand to Sam’s face and pulls him closer, so close that Sam can feel Bucky’s stubble on his cheek. Sam drops his head as tears start to well in his eyes. Bucky drops his warm lips to Sam’s forehead, closing his eyes as he places a kiss on his skin. He drops another right between his eyes, another on the bridge of his nose, and yet another on the corner of Sam’s mouth.
Sam wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist as he rests his chin on his shoulder. Bucky hums happily as he rests his hand on Sam’s head, rubbing softly and gently. Sam’s fingers push along the large scar across Bucky’s side and stomach, the skin around it raised but smooth from the years of healing. He loves the scar already. It makes Bucky absolutely perfect. 
Sam lifts his head, leaning back to connect his eyes with Bucky’s once more. His fingers continue to brush over the old scar as he etches the feeling of it into his brain. He drops his eyes back to Bucky’s exposed chest, lifting his finger to trace a smaller, lighter scar at his collarbone. Bucky continues to smile softly as Sam’s hands explore his body, tracing his scars, old and new. 
This is it. This is what he’s waited for his whole life. His heart thumbs against his chest and in his ears. His mind races as lust pulses through his body. Bucky’s scent, his body, his natural sexual presence, his allure; it all works together, intoxicating Sam to the point where he’s physically dizzy. 
“What happened here?” Sam asks quietly as he presses his palm to the large, jagged scar. His favorite scar. 
Bucky chuckles a little, “Hunting knife.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. I almost became somebody’s taxidermy project.”
Sam snaps his eyes back to Bucky’s. His breath becomes choppy and fast as his chest fills with anxiety. Flashes of Bucky changing in front of him flood his brain. Sam shifts his gaze to the water as fear starts to wash over him. He watched him change. From wolf to man, he watched this person change. 
This can’t be right. This isn’t some horror movie. This is Sam’s life. For years, he had waited for this. Sixteen years of stumbling through life, working his way through every Bucky he came across in the state of Washington. Sixteen years of broken hearts, countless tears, and longing. Sixteen, long, hard years, and here he is, standing in a creek with this… thing. This can’t be right. 
Sam snatches his hand back as fear starts to wash over him. He takes a step back, his eyes wide, his body shaky. He shakes his head slowly, “No, this isn’t-”
“Sam.” Bucky says calmly, reaching out for him, “Sam, it’s okay. Just breathe.”
“No. I’m sorry, this isn’t- this isn’t right. I can’t, this-”
“Sam. It’s okay, it’s okay.” Bucky pleads, “Come here, baby.”
Sam takes another step back, slipping on the slippery rocks and falling into the water. He scrambles to his feet as Bucky tries to help and rushes toward the bank. He grabs his clothes and shoes from the grass and takes off back toward his car, Bucky’s voice becoming distant as he calls out. Tears stream down his face as he runs, ducking and dodging tree limbs as he pushes his way through the brush. 
Bucky stares down in the water, chewing on his bottom lip as he hears a rustling behind him. He doesn’t move, immediately recognizing the smell of the approaching figure as it wafts toward him. 
“Babe? You okay? I heard screaming.”
Bucky nods slowly, glancing over his shoulder at the man emerging from the trees, “I found him, Steve.” He turns over his wrist, studying the two names imprinted on his skin, “I found my Sam.”
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gunnerrose · 5 years
Text
Cocksucker-o-gram | Gunner/Buck
What: Buck enjoys his Valentines gram.
Where: Gunner’s suite.
@buckwildesub
Buck made his way over to Gunner’s suite, whistling happily to himself.  He was excited to spend some time with the Dom, even if it was just for the Valentines gram.  When he’d arrived, they’d flirted a bit, but had yet to connect.  Not sure if the normal rules applied tonight, he got on his knees before knocking on the other man’s door.
Gunner was pretty sure his idea for a Valentines gram might have been the smartest idea he'd ever had. He got to interact with subs and switches, see them being a little sexually adventurous with him, and get to know them some more, all at the same time. He chuckled to himself as he heard a knock at this door, and knew it had to be Buck. He jogged over to the door, and opened it, revealing to Buck that all he was wearing were his black briefs. "Well, don't you look perfect on your knees?"
When the door swung open, Buck let his eyes move over the skin Gunner’s lack of clothing revealed.  He grinned up at the other man and said, “Thank you, Sir.  I figured it might start the night off right.  Want me to stay down here or can I hop up and walk in?”  Buck had no problem with either option and peered up at the other man through pale lashes.
Gunner smiled, catching how Buck was checking him out. "Stay down there for me, Wilde. Show me how beautifully you can crawl," he said, as he stepped aside to allow Buck room to move inside the suite. "Unless, of course, you'd rather stay kneeling there and let my neighbours see how much you're going to enjoy your Valentines gram?" he teased.
Arching a brow at Gunner, Buck chuckled.  “I got no problem with public displays, Sir...though I prefer them outside in warm weather.”  He rolled onto all fours and crawled into the room, feeling a bit over dressed in his Henley and jeans.  “Would you like me to lose some layers, Sir.”
"Well, that's definitely something I'll have to remember when it's warmer," Gunner grinned as he watched Buck crawl into his suite. He closed the door behind him, and openly admired Buck's ass in front of him. "I would. You can stay in your underwear if you'd like, or you can strip all the way down. I know which I'd prefer from you, right now," he grinned.
“Like I’m gonna miss the opportunity to get naked with you, Sir,” Buck replied with a grin.  Rolling up onto his knees, he slowly peeled off his shirt, revealing his trim waist  that tapered out to his broad chest and shoulders.  Then he wriggled out of his jeans and boxer briefs, unabashedly naked, cock resting half hard against his thigh.
Gunner chuckled at Buck's reply, and watched the submissive strip. "I knew you'd be gorgeous like this," Gunner smiled, as he rubbed himself through his briefs. He didn't hesitate to do the same though, and after a few moments, he pulled his own underwear down, and stepped out of them. His own cock was also half hard, though it was pointed straight at Buck. "This is your gram, Wilde. Come and enjoy yourself."
"Oh, I plan to, Sir...you wanna sit down?  Or at least lean back against a wall," he suggested, eyeing the other man hungrily.  "I could so support your weight while sucking your dick if you swung a leg over my shoulders while I'm down here on my knees."  He peered up at Gunner, eyes wide and blue, but full of impish promise.
Gunner grinned at Buck's eagerness, and turned to walk over to the sofa, giving Buck a look at his bare ass. "Such an eager little cocksucker, aren't you?" he teased, as he sat down. He started to stroke himself as he watched the submissive. "Come on over,  Wilde."
Shrugging, Buck crawled after the dominant, movements slow to display the bunch and roll of muscles under his lightly tanned skin.  "Never saw a point in not being who I am.  I'm a sub and I like it.  I like guys, girls, non-binary...hot is hot and I like to have fun."  He settled between Gunner's knees, big hand wrapping around the other man's dick and stroking with practiced ease.
Gunner licked his lips as he watched Buck crawl. "Glad to know you're not ashamed of your submissiveness, it's good to see," he smiled, and sat back as he watched the sub stroke his cock for him. "Show me what you can do, handsome. Enjoy yourself."
"I always knew I was gonna be a sub. Mom would have had a fit otherwise!" he chuckled, then grinned.  "Oh, I plan to, Sir."  He bent down, dragging his tongue up the length of Gunner's cock before wrapping his lips around the tip and sucking, humming happily as his mouth was filled.
Gunner chuckled too, and reached out to pet Buck on the head. "I bet you plan to," he grinned, before groaning as he felt Buck's tongue on his shaft. "Aw, fuck, that feels good," he moaned, as he sank back against the seat.
Now that he had his mouth on Gunner, Buck let his hands fall to the Dominant's thighs, squeezing and kneeding the muscular flesh as he began to bob his head, swallowing him deeper with each pass.  Occasionally, he looked up, checking Gunner's expressions, figuring out what movements and touches worked best for him.
There wasn't much Gunner liked more than simply sitting back, and letting a submissive pleasure him. It was so simple, yet filled with the power dynamic Gunner loved. He kept a hand on Buck's head, but didn't control the sub's movements yet. "Don't ignore my balls, Wilde. Fucking love having my balls played with."
Buck arched a brow at the suggestion, knowing the man meant to use his hands...which he would.  But first, he took a breath and pushed himself to swallow Gunner to the root.  As his throat worked around his cock, Buck poked out his tongue, lapping at the aforementioned balls.
Gunner frowned for a moment, wondering why Buck wasn't already playing with his balls, before he saw what the submissive was doing. "Oh, fuck," he gasped out, sitting up quickly. "Fuck, love it when subs do that. Lick my balls, boy, lick those goddamn balls," he groaned.
Unable to respond with more than a little nod, Buck kept it up until he had to pull back or risk really gagging.  He coughed for a moment, resuming stroking Gunner's dick before diving down to lick and suck at his balls.  "Like this, Sir?" he asked, then pressed his tongue hard into the other man's perinium.  "You want a rimjob too, or should I stick with dick and balls?"
Gunner was almost positive he saw stars when Buck unexpectedly licked at his taint. "Fuck," he hissed, his dick drooling against Buck's fingers now. "You might be one of the best fucking subs here, boy," he grinned. "God, I'm a fucking genius for setting this up," he said cockily, before nodding. "Like I said, enjoy yourself," he teased, as he changed angles a little, raising his ass up so Buck would have better access.
The praise made Buck beam, his own cock twitching, hard and flushed, between his legs.  "Thank you, Sir!" he said happily, moving to cup Gunner's ass and lift his hips a bit higher.  A benefit of being bigg and stronger than a lot of people was the ability to surprise those who were used to being the stronger ones in any pairing.  Spreading the firm cheeks, he buried his face in them, tongue working over the crinkled pucker even as he nuzzled the man's balls.
Gunner grinned, thinking that Buck looked adorable when he received praise. He made a mental note to play with that a little more. He let out a surprised gasp at how easily Buck moved him, something he definitely wasn't used to, but he wasn't opposed to it at all. "Oh, god," he moaned, as he felt Buck's tongue running over his hole. "Get right in there, Wilde."
With that encouragment, Buck swirled his tongue around Gunner's tight hole before pressing the tip inside.  He repeated the actions again and again, fingers squeezing his ass before licking a stripe from his ass, over his balls and back up his cock, which Buck then swallowed deep again as he let his finger rub at the spit slick hole, not breeching him, but offering extra stimulation.
Gunner sank back against the back of the sofa as Buck swallowed his cock down, while still teasing his hole. "Fuck...nobody's done this to me in like, a year," he gasped out, his hand reaching up without him even really thinking about it, and tweaking his own nipple. "Someone's a fucking natural, dude, a total fucking natural."
Arching a brow, buck pulled back long enough to gasp, "Really?  I'd think subs would be lining up for you?"  Then he resumed sucking Gunner's cock, his hands busy caressing his balls and playing between his cheeks.  Glancing up at the Dom, Buck gave him a smile, full, pink lips stretched around the shaft of his cock.
"Oh they are," Gunner grinned. "But none of them played with my ass while sucking me," he explained. When Buck smiled up at him around his cock, Gunner winked at him and playfully messed up his hair. "Big finale time, Wilde. It's your gram, so where do you want it the most?" he teased.
Buck slid his mouth off of Gunner and slapped the other man's cock lightly against his cheek, pre-cum smearing on his skin.  "I think I'd look good with a load on my face today, Sir," he said cheekily, then added, "They missed out then, Sir.  You've got a great ass.  I'd be happy to spend some time giving it the attention it deserves some time!"
Gunner laughed at Buck's eagerness. "I bet you would. That's a plan then, you cheeky little sub," he teased, as he reached out to run his finger through the smear of pre-cum on Buck's cheek, before wiping his finger on Buck's bottom lip. He took a deep breath. "We'll see about that. It takes a lot for me to be comfortable with more than rimming," he admitted, but smiled down at Buck all the same.
Licking Gunner's cum off his lip, Buck arched his brow.  It had been a while since someone referred to him as little.  "I didn't mean fucking you, Sir.  I'm pretty much a bottom, though on rare occasions I enjoy topping.  I just meant spending a lot more time than I did today worshiping your ass with my lips and tongue."
Gunner smiled at Buck's explanation, and nodded. He knew explaining his own reasoning behind his reluctance to casually bottom would be a giant mood-killer, but he could see himself having that serious conversation with someone as sweet as Buck, some day. "Because my ass deserves to have your lips and tongue worshipping it, doesn't it?" he smirked, happy to let his cocky side show every so often. "Make me cum, Wilde."
"It does, Sir," he said, nodding seriously, then throwing in a wink and a smile before beginning to stroke Gunner's cock.  He wrapped his lips around the tip, teasing it with his tongue, using his free hand to massage Gunner's balls.  He was paying attention, waiting for the feeling of the Dom's comming orgasm and, when he felt it beginning, he drew back, aiming Gunner's cock at his face even as he kept stroking.
With all the attention to detail Buck had shown in the time he'd been in Gunner's suite, he had no problem believing that Buck was going to take care of every little detail right now. He could see Buck watching him, paying attention to every little indication that Gunner might be ready to shoot. He was panting a little quickly, and as Buck took his mouth away and kept stroking him, Gunner lost it. He shot hard, all over Buck's handsome face.
His hand kept moving through the dominant's oragsm and Buck gave a moan of his own as the hot spurts of cum hit his cheeks.  He closed his eyes to prevent getting any in it and felt some streak his eyelashes, probably hitting his brithmark.  When it was over, he blinked up at Gunner and gave him a smile before licking the remaining drops of cum from the head of his cock.  "Thank you, SIr."
Gunner was panting heavily, and felt like every bone has been sucked from his body. Buck was something else, he was coming to realise. He'd kept his eyes owned, watching Buck take his load over his face, and grinned as the submissive actually thanked him. Being thanked for something like this was something that Gunner adored. "This is how a boy like you should always look."
Buck licked a bit of cum from his lips, but otherwise made no move to wipe his face.  His cheeks were flushed with pleasure and he nodded.  "I like it too, Sir," he said, shifting, still ignoring his own cock, which was practically dripping pre-cum by now.  "Like...everyone who sees me can see I was a good boy."
"That's exactly what I'm thinking, looking at you. That you've been a very good boy," Gunner smiled, as he watched Buck carefully. He glanced downwards, seeing how hard and eager Buck's own cock was. Teasingly, he nudged the sub's shaft with his foot. "If you can ignore that all day, I'll let you blow me again during lunch tomorrow," Gunner smirked wickedly.
A little whine of pleasure escaped Buck when Gunner said that he'd been a good boy...then he gasped as his cock was nudged, hips jerking reflexivly.  "Oh fuck...you know how to temp a guy, Sir," he said, biting his lips and then giving a jerky nod.  "I can do it.  I can be good and earn your cock again."
Gunner definitely noticed how much the praise had affected Buck then, and chuckled as Buck cursed. "Yeah? You're on the honour system, so I'm trusting you not to jerk off and lie to me, Wilde," Gunner said, with a more firm tone to his voice. He reached out and cupped the back of Buck's head, gently guiding him to rest his head against Gunner's thigh. "You've got a thing for being praised, haven't you?"
"I wouldn't lie, Sir!" Buck said, sounding a little scandalized.  Sure, he wanted to grab his dick, but he said he wouldn't, so he wouldn't.  Feeling Gunner's hand on his head was soothing and he went with him, pressing his head to the other man's thigh and sighing.  "Yes, Sir...who doesn't like to be told they're good?"
"How does someone with a load of cum on their face manage to sound so innocent?" Gunner smiled at Buck's reaction. He ran his fingers through Buck's short hair, as he looked down at him. "I'm going to give you the chance to earn some more praise today. I'm going to walk you back to your dorm, and you can put clothes back on because it's cold out, but you're not allowed to clean your face until after I've dropped you off."
Considering the question, Buck shrugged.  "Maybe cuz I'm being honest?  About it all.  Lying just seems like way too much work to be worth it," he said, then smiled and nodded.  "I can so that, Sir...Should I start getting dressed now?"  He glanced across the room to where his clothes lay in a pile.
Buck's sweet earnestness was going to kill him, Gunner was sure of it. "Honesty is the best policy, especially for a good sub like you, Wilde," Gunner chuckled, and then nodded. "Go put your clothes on, and kneel for me at the door while I go get dressed too," Gunner nodded.
"Can do, Sir," Buck said, then crawled back over to his clothes.  He stood to dress thoug, turning so Gunner could see him carefully tuck his dick into his boxer briefs and then pull on his jeans.  The line of his cock was visible through the denim still, but he ignored it in favor of doning his boots and Henley, then crawling over to the door.
Gunner simply sat there as Buck got dressed. There was no way he was going to miss that show. He chuckled to himself as the submissive crawled over to the door, before he got up, and moved to his bedroom. He pulled on a pair of jeans, and a NYC sweater, before stepping into his Vans. He walked back out to the main room, and over to Buck. "You look like a work of art, kneeling for me," Gunner smiled, as he gestured for Buck to stand.
Buck rolled easily to his feet, bouncing a bit on his toes.  "Thank you, Sir," he said appily.  "You're not exactly a slouch in the looks department yourself.  He stretched his arms up above his head and grinned as the joints gave a pop.  "Is it bad I'm already looking forward to lunch tomorrow?"
"Thank you," Gunner smiled at the compliment, and opened the front door as Buck stood. He didn't hesitate to slip his hand into the back pocket of Buck's jeans, cupping his ass cheek as they walked out of the door. "Oh, definitely not," he laughed softly, as he closed the door and they began to walk down the hallway. "I love that you're this eager to serve me. Nothing turns me on more than a sub who's genuinely eager to do something for me, even if that thing is non-sexual."
The hand in his pocket made Buck smile and he nodded.  "I like subbing.  I feel bad when people don't like their marks.  That's gotta be hard," he said, then chuckled, "Well, I'm definitely available for sexual or non-sexual needs.  I'm a decent cook.  Mom made sure our cook taught me, cuz she was sure I was gonna be the family sub and I'd need to knw how."
"And I like dominating," Gunner smiled. "Yeah, one of my brothers is struggling with that. But that's our father's fault. He did his best to set us all up as Doms, even though he knew it'd fuck over at least once of us," Gunner rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah? I'm definitely gonna have to put you to work in my kitchen then. Maybe have you kneel next to me while I eat it, too."
Wincing in sympathy for Gunner's brother, Buck said, "Oh, why would your Dad do that...no, you don't have to tell me, Sir.  Parent expectations.  At least I fit into Mom's world view.  Though I don't think she thought I'd be this big."  When Gunner mentioned cooking for him and kneeling, Buck grinned ar him, cum covers cheeks crinkling.  "I can do that.  I like to cook healthy and limit animal protien, but I do know how to cook meats if you like those best."
"That was definitely a big part of it," Gunner nodded. He smiled a little at the mention of Buck's size. "I've got to admit, I've never played with a submissive taller than me before, and more muscled. I've never even thought about it, but it is...a really big turn on," he chuckled. "I'm always going to love a good steak, but I'm happy to let you do whatever you do best in the kitchen, unless you cooking for me becomes a regular thing. Then I'd want you to learn some of my favourite recipes."
"A lot of Doms say that," Buck chuckled.  "I never really thought too hard about it when I was younger, but then as I got older, people started assuming I was a Dom or a switch...but that is so not me.  I'm totally a little spoon."  He nodded happily when Gunner said he could make what he liked.  "Do you like seafood, Sir?  I have some nice fish recipes."
Gunner grinned, and playfully squeezed Buck's ass cheek through his jeans pocket. "Then when you sleep over, not if, I'll be sure to keep my little spoon safe and wrapped up in my arms," he teased gently. "Nobody who sees you right now will think you're a Dom though, Wilde," he added. "I do, so prepare some recipes and I'll make sure I've got the ingredients in."
Buck's cheeks fulshed when Gunner told him no one would think he was a Dom.  A good, happy flush and he laughed, "Probably not too many doms happy to wear a load of cum on their face in public, huh?"  He couldn't help but give a pleased wiggle when a sleepover was mentioned and he nodded.  "I'll definitely do that, Sir!"
"Definitely not," Gunner chuckled, as they walked out of the Dom dorms, and walked the path to the sub dorms. "Which is why you should look like this as much as possible. Show everyone what an amazing boy you are," he grinned. "I'm sure I can donate to that cause as much as you need," he teased. He grinned to himself, pleased with how Buck was so excited about a sleepover that he wiggled. "Now, remember," Gunner said. "What are not to do for the rest of the day, and tomorrow morning?"
"Gonna paint my face again tomorrow, Sir?" he asked, arching a brow and wondering if he'd wind up spending the second half of the day like this.  He didn't think he'd mind that at all.  A littl huff escaped him.  "No jerking off, no cumming," he said.  "I won't touch it except to use the bathroom, wash and dress."
"I don't know, you'll need some lunch after all, and I'd be a bad Dom if I didn't let you get some protein inside you," Gunner grinned wickedly. "But the idea of you sitting through afternoon classes with my load on your face, well, that's a fucking good idea," Gunner laughed, as they walked into the sub dorms. "Good boy. You can consider that dick and balls my property until lunch tomorrow."
"I drink a protein shake in the morning, Sir," Buck said with a cheeky grin, tongue touching his lower lip again.  He led the way to his room, stopping outside the door.  "They're yours till then, Sir...and if you ever wanna try for longer let me know.  I got a cock cage."
Gunner groaned dramatically at the mention of a cock cage, and pulled his hand from Buck's jeans. "Don't turn me on again, or I'll have to paint your face even more," he teased. "Get on your knees, and say goodbye like a good sub," Gunner ordered, curious to see what Buck would do with that slightly vague order.
Buck grinned at Gunner and said in a droll tone, "Oh no, wouldn't want to do that, Sir.  Whatever would I do?"  He sank to his knees, then sat his ass on his heels to make himself a little shorter, so as to better look up at Gunner.  "Thank you for letting me suck your cock, Sir, and covering my face with your cum.  I look forward to being a good boy for you again!"
Gunner laughed at Buck's tone, and resisted the urge to slap his ass once again. He watched the submissive move onto his knees, and smiled as Buck spoke. "You're welcome, Wilde. I'm looking forward to tomorrow too," Gunner reassured him. "Crawl on inside, you good little boy."
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