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imerdwarf · 3 years

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The Thought That Counts

Request from anon: During the civil war, you join team cap and go on the run with them. They stop off at a motel for the night and you’re sharing the room with Bucky who asks if you could brush his hair? 😪

Pairing: Beefy!bucky x reader

Warnings: Just lots of fluff :)

Author’s Notes: I really do appreciate requests, thank you for sending them into me!

Divider was made by me.

The dingy motel room was far from perfect from the yellow stained wallpaper peeling off from the corners of the room, the patterned old and grubby carpet was layered in black dust from years of neglect.

One panel in the window was boarded up, while one curtain hung pathetically off the curtain rings. It wasn’t ideal, it looked like an abandoned motel that was used in movies and tv shows.

Setting your little backpack down on the bed and rubbing your hands together to gather some heat, you were wondering on where you were going to sleep tonight as there seemed to be only one bed which was full of dust and it seemed to be inhabitable. Bucky didn’t seem to share your concerns of the room as much as you did, he was looking forward to his shower and going to sleep.

"Do you want the bathroom?" Bucky asked without looking up from his backpack. There was an unpleasant smell to the room, and it was quite a challenge not to heave with each inhale of breath.

"No, go ahead." You smiled but he still didn't make eye contact with you. Not that you could blame him, the four of you have been on the run for over 2 days, being cramped in the back of the small beetle car next to Bucky and then being forced to pair up to share a room, it seemed he couldn't get rid of you.

You tried not to dwell too much on it, maybe you were just tired and were overthinking everything as usual. You really didn't know him, maybe this was just how he is and he might not be used to having company.

Before you, Steve and Sam found him in Bucharest, Bucky lived in a very small studio apartment with little belongings. He was surrounded by his journals, the windows were covered in newspapers and he didn't have a bed. Just a single mattress on the floor.

Before you could stop them, your eyes were already welling up with tears as your feet stood grounded to the spot. There was nowhere to sit, you were tired, exhausted and you just wanted to go home.

The tears rolled down your cheeks but you quickly wiped them away with your sleeve when the bathroom door opened suddenly. The redness around your eyes didn't go amiss by Bucky, his features softened with concern. He didn't understand why Steve thought it was a good idea to drag you along with this mess.

"Are you okay?" Bucky kept his voice down, unsure of how thin the walls were. His senses picked up sounds from the neighbours upstairs so he knew they were relatively thin.

You nodded your head quickly and smiled, not really wanting him to worry about anything. His road to recovery was already long and broad enough without needing to carry your emotions too.

"Are you sure? I'm not really good with advice but I do have some good ears to listen." This made you chuckle and you reassured you were okay for the second time. He walked past you and squeezed your shoulder before digging through his backpack for a hairbrush. Bucky clicks his tongue and sighs, staring off into the distance.

"What's the matter?" You ask standing next to him. Bucky's hair curtains his face and it takes all of your strength to not reach out and tuck it behind his ear.

"I uh, I don't have a hairbrush." He bites his thumbnail and you chuckle, looking through your own backpack and finding a brush in the last zip up compartment.

"I could- I could brush it for you, if you want?" It's a genuine offer and Bucky seems taken aback by your kindness. It's the first time anyone has ever showed him such compassion. He seems hesitant as you see the cogs turning in his mind, you knew he was wondering if you'd hurt him. "I won't hurt you, I promise." Bucky sighs but nods his head as he kneels on the dirty carpet to reach your height. You stand behind him, combing his hair from his face and gently putting the brush through his shoulder length knotted locks. "If I brush too hard, please tell me." You tell him before keeping up with the gentleness.

It's something he really isn't used to, but something he could most definitely adapt. You brush out his knots before taking the hair tie and putting his damp locks into a bun.

"All done!" You rub your hands together and toss the brush onto your bag before standing in front of him to admire your work. There's just a couple of loose shorter strands that wouldn't quite reach the hair tie, but they didn't seem to bother Bucky in the slightest.

"Thank you." He smiles, his fingers feeling his hair and sighing. Bucky has only spent a few days with you, but he could tell very easily you're going to his favourite person.

"No problem." You smile, reaching your hand out to tuck those strands behind his ear. It gives you the opportunity to marvel at his features, Bucky really was something. Handsome, smart, brave. The stubble he was sporting lined his jawline perfectly and it looked so scratchy that you couldn't resist running your fingers over his cheek. The hairs pricked against the pads of your fingers. Bucky shuddered from your gentle touch.

The daze Bucky had pulled you into was disturbed when there was an abrupt knock on the door. You both took large steps away from each other.

"Sorry." You apologised, what for though, Bucky would never know. Maybe it was the fear of Steve or Sam catching you being too affectionate with him. Whatever thought that had run through your mind at the time, you really had nothing to be sorry for.

The motel door opened and Steve walked in with Sam behind him.

"There's a change of plans. Our location is compromised. We gotta leave now." Steve told you both and all you could do was nod.

You were cramped in the back of the car with Bucky again. Your eyes were really heavy from the lack of sleep you've gotten the last couple of days. Bucky stroked your hand and you looked at him, a goofy grin on his lips. "Lay your head on my chest doll, get some sleep." You nodded tiredly as your face slumped against his chest. The warmth that radiated from him was too inviting. Your arm instantly wrapped around his torso and Bucky rested his cheek on top of your head, making eye contact with Steve in the rear view mirror who gave him a knowing smile.

A knowing smile that there would always be light at the end of the tunnel.

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rceebe-blog · 7 years

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Scoot Over (Commission)

An overdue quickie for DeathKnelle, who wanted some papa wolf dong. Who can blame him? Fortunately, Ryan's always got room for one more in that truck. ;D Thumbnail background is from Textures.com. Ryan and writing (C) me Knelle (C) FA: deathknelle

Knelle dragged the back of his arm across his brow. The air rushing through the vent window, even as humid as it was, helped to cool him off and keep the heat bearable. He was shirtless and tired. His glasses, smeared with sweat, sat up on the dashboard along with a bobbing hula girl superglued to the plastic and a few grease-stained trucker hats in several color combinations.

"You gonna be all right there, kiddo?"

The Abyssinian cat forced a smile. "Yeah. I'll be okay. It's just, ah, really hot today, that's all. I'm not used to walking in the heat."

A smile tugged at the edges of the trucker's jowly lips. "You get used to it! You oughta cool down now that we're movin', though." He smacked the cat on the thigh, making him wince. "So what's your name, kid? I usually ask for references before I let boys in the truck but you looked like you were gonna be a puddle real soon-like."

"Oh, I'm Knelle," he answered. "And you, you're mister...?"

"No mister! Just Ryan." He flashed a grin at the cat. "There's some bottles of water behind the seat if you want one. Help yourself."

Knelle did exactly that, digging through a veritable tide of crumpled fast food wrappers and empty soda cans until he found a stiff plastic flat-pack of water bottles. He chugged a whole bottle in an unbroken drink.

"Thirsty boy, aren't you?" Ryan drummed on the steering wheel and chuckled. "How old are you, kid? I just gotta be sure I ain't taking a minor over state lines. You look kinda... young."

The cat huffed. "I'm twenty-three. Believe me, I'm not a kid."

"Well, you are to me," the wolf sneered. "Suppose everything under thirty is kid territory when you're pushing the big five-oh, huh?"

Knelle smiled thinly, leaning on the door. "You? Fifty? Nah, you look forty at best."

"Aw, shucks." Ryan chuckled. "You tryna butter me up, kid? It's working."

Suddenly Knelle blinked, his smile vanishing. "Um. So, wait, are you--? I mean, what I'm trying to ask is--."

Ryan dumped the coyness when he said, "Yeah, kid, I like guys. Boys like you, in particular." He peeked aside at Knelle, licking his jowl. "Next truck stop, y'wanna fuck? I'm clean. Ain't gotta be anything spectacular. Just some road stop num-nums."

"Num-nums!" Knelle parroted, shrieking with laughter.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the old wolf scoffed. "Shaddup, you little turd. I'm old enough to be your papa and by god, I'll spank you."

The cat played with his tail. "Mmh. I've never been much into spanking. But I have always wanted to try a--, um, what's-it-called, a DILF?"

Ryan didn't have the heart to tell Knelle he wasn't really a father.

It was half past four in the afternoon when Ryan pulled into the truck stop. He took a spot off at the end not out of necessity, but a desire for privacy.

Killing the engine, he said, "Hey kid, I'm gonna head in real quick. You want anything? Soda, donut, candy bar, French tickler?"

The cat had gotten used to Ryan's sense of humor in the two hours he'd been in the truck. "I'd like a Pepsi if they have that."

Ryan smiled and smooched him on the cheek. He left and came back barely ten minutes later, a sweating can of Pepsi in his paw and a travel-size sack of Doritos in the other. As he climbed up into the truck and passed Knelle the can, he said, "Lookin' like storms."

"I thought I heard thunder." Knelle cracked open his Pepsi and sipped it. The fizziness tickled his nose. "So, were you kidding about--?"

"Naw." The fat old wolf scratched his balls flagrantly. "I wanna fuck your brains out, kiddo." In the middle of a lean toward the cat, he paused and smiled softly. "How 'bout you? Still wanna do this? No pressure, cutie."

The twink set his can in the cup holder hanging off the vent. "I'm down for it," he cooed. "Just, ah... you take the lead. I'm no good in the driver's seat, so to speak."

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Looming across the flat land, the storm front was obvious. Knelle watched it with curiosity and awe even as Ryan palmed his sweet young breast and played with his nipples. "Mmm, that's really neat. It's like a razor's edge."

Ryan glanced away from the flatness of Knelle's body for the flatness of the prairie. He found the boy far more interesting. "Seen one storm, you seen 'em all." It was almost humorous how far he was leaning, straining his overweight body just so he could kiss and lick along the cat's svelte lines. "Mmm, Christ. You're one pretty fuckin' boy, Knelle."

He giggled. "Thank you."

The trucker grinned wide. He nuzzled Knelle. "Hey sweet stuff, wanna see somethin' really swell?"

It took Knelle a second, and then he laughed. "Oh--, jeez. That was like a dad joke. I'm disappointed."

"Hi Disappointed, I'm dad," Ryan said with a perfectly polite smile. Knelle shoved him away by the snout, laughing and shaking his head. "Na-a-ah, though, it's just my dick. Is that such a big deal?"

Knelle watched Ryan sit back and open his fly. In spite of the excitement, he sniped back at Ryan: "If you've seen one cock, you've seen all of them."

"Right in papa wolf's cold black heart." Ryan shook his head and pulled apart the flaps of his fly. His boxers were grimy off-blue things, and a stain of what was hopefully precum was spreading slowly in an irregular circle. "You wanna go down on me, kiddo? Or just maybe," he licked his jowls and huffed through his nostrils, "papa can slobber your butthole instead."

A blush and a grin both on his face, Knelle started to weasel out of his bottoms. His clothes were sweaty but clean compared to Ryan's; just a pair of trendy jeans and plain white briefs from Fruit of the Loom. He glanced out the passenger window surreptitiously, half expecting to see some leering eyes enjoying the soon-to-be sex show. Knelle wasn't much of an exhibitionist, but some of Ryan's go-getter charisma was rubbing off on him. He was just a bit disappointed that nobody was around to see the truck rock.

The slender feline put his knees on the seat, forearms on the door and paws slack out the window. His lengthy tail swished elegantly over his bottom. "I'm a little sweaty," he murmured. "I get the feeling that's a good thing for you."

"Ay, and I figured the nerdy glasses were just for show. You are a smart kid." Ryan, a little more clumsy with his bottoms mostly on, leaned over the shifter again and outright crammed his rough snout into the cat's ass crack.

Sweet little Knelle gasped and ground backwards, peeking over his shoulder with a lopsided smirk on his face. "Don't be shy, I guess."

Ryan had forgotten what the word meant years ago. He slobbered through Knelle's ass crack as if he owned it. The breadth of his tongue spread apart the cheeks a bit with each slurp, and the velvet surface dragging over his anus gave Knelle much soft-spoken pleasure. His penis, an average and circumcised thing, oozed its lazy payload of precum onto the cracked vinyl of the seat. Ryan's dong was doing much the same, saturating the material of his boxers so badly that pre dripped through the fabric.

The wolf was imprecise, and that was what Knelle loved so much. So many men just went for the bullseye - that perfect, pink pucker of his - and ignored everything surrounding it, but Ryan was thorough to the point of absurdity. What delicate sweat had been in Knelle's fur was long forgotten, replaced by a dense coating of saliva which added to the heat and humidity of the unbearable day. Knelle absently masturbated and watched the angry storm clouds roll closer and closer. He could smell the cool air of the storm.

"Mmh, gawddamn," Ryan panted against Knelle's bottom. He planted his lips on the cat's asshole and gave it a suck. With drool caking his chin, he flopped back into his seat and gave the cat's tail a pull. "C'mere, kiddo," he growled, pulling down his boxers and tucking them under his sweaty ballbag. "Sit in papa wolf's lap."

Knelle was turned-on enough by the trucker's slippery work and the sight of his chubby black meat that he was all too happy to ride the wolf no matter how obvious it would look to passerby. He slunk his way across the seats, moving with his unreal feline grace over the shifter, barely brushing against its eight-ball grip. He straddled Ryan, facing the old wolf, and wasted not a second of time on teasing.

The cat kissed Ryan's jowls sweetly. With eyes only for the wolf's handsome, aged features, he guided Ryan's cock between the taut cheeks of his ass by touch alone. There was some clumsiness; he had to grind to get it notched just right against his well-slurped pucker. Ryan wrapped his sweaty arms around the cat and uttered an unintelligible compliment. Knelle liked the tone.

Biting his lip and looking over the wolf's shoulder, Knelle pushed down with his gay, fine ass until the head of Ryan's cock opened him up. Knelle was well-trained and the wolf's drool had him very lubricated; he felt little pain past that sharp stretch of the penetration. As he slid down Ryan's throbbing meat, he draped his arms around the trucker's neck and purred for him.

"Good kitty," Ryan huffed, grinning big and toothy. He nosed Knelle's cheek, his wiry gray fur tickling the cat's face. "And the other truckers tell me I don't like some tight pussy."

They laughed together, quietly. The thunder filled the following gap and Knelle squeezed Ryan fast. He pulled up when he was barely halfway down, letting the wolf's constant supply of precum ooze into him and smear across his anal walls. Knelle was happy with so many things about the arrangement, but perhaps his favorite thing was how his cock ground against the wolf's thick gut. His greasy white shirt was pulled up, too snug to fit decently over the fat curve of his belly; Knelle's penis rubbed through the soft fur and left stripes of precum in its follicles.

Again Knelle lowered his bottom, and this time he pushed down to the balls. He crooned, closing his eyes in a subtle show of pleasure. The fat wolf's meat filled him out beautifully, putting pressure on all the right spots. And at the other end, Ryan felt shivers in his heavy body brought on by the closeness (and tightness) of the twink in his lap. He raked his blunt claws down Knelle's back, digging ruts in the fur and slightly into flesh. Knelle's soft mrowl and the way he pushed further into Ryan's embrace made him grin.

The storm was getting closer, but neither the trucker or passenger seemed to notice. Knelle bounced in Ryan's lap with typical feline grace, pleasure racing through his body, boosted by the taboo thrill which came with such an old and musky partner. They shared little kisses, shallow ones on the lips and cheeks. Their paws were much more intimate, stroking and palming everywhere they roamed. The stickiness of sweaty fur was no detriment to their affection.

"God, kid," Ryan huffed. He licked Knelle's cheek. "You're gonna make me bust a nut if you keep ridin' me like that. You didn't even have to fucking pause, you just started going at it." He laughed with a dreamy quality. "If all the boys I fucked were half as good as you..."

Knelle could be naive, but not enough to believe Ryan was telling the truth. The sex was good enough that he didn't mind the lie. Moving faster, cock aching, Knelle remarked with a lazy tone, "It's kinda funny how all I wanted a few hours ago was a shower. I'm starting to think sweaty sex is wa-a-ay better."

"Gets my vote, kiddo," Ryan concurred. He patted the cat's hip. "Keep going, cutie. Papa wolf's almost there... it's been a while since I shot a wad."

Raindrops started to patter against the metal and the windows. Ryan groped for the window crank and rolled it up almost all the way, leaving just a crack. Knelle's wide-open window was a mile away to them at that moment.

Knelle gnawed Ryan's jowl, putting bloodless dents in it. He was purring, raking manicured claws over the wolf's wonderfully mature body. His riding was rough and swift; he was plainly close to his own orgasm. "Gawd... I think you're the oldest guy I've been with. You smell so nasty."

Ryan recognized the tone in the word, nasty made to rhyme with delicious. He nipped the cat on the nose and squeezed his tight young ass in both paws. "Goddamn right I do, kid. You gonna nut for daddy or what?"

"Oh, I'm gonna. I'm gonna-a-a," Knelle whined, pressing into Ryan. Only his hips moved, and even that with some assistance from the wolf's hard, strong paws. "Ooh, my boyfriend's never gonna let me live this one down," he said with a nervous titter. He bounced and ground, shoving himself against Ryan over and over, letting his tight ass grip the trucker's dick. "Fuck, I can't--, I'm not--," he murmured, nuzzling Ryan's neck with beet-red cheeks.

Still-distant thunder shook the earth, uttering a reverberating note which made the windows rattle. Ryan squeezed Knelle tighter, fingers putting deep dimples in the boy's ass cheeks. It was then that Knelle came, shooting his spunk into the coarse fur on Ryan's gut. The wolf smiled warmly, blushing himself; he knew what had happened. Jizz on his belly was something he'd felt so many times.

"C'mo-o-on kid, you did good, now just a little more for your daddy wolf." He urged the cat gently, whispering into his ears, heard barely over the rising swell of the rain. The armrest on the passenger side was entirely soaked and the seat's edge had droplets on it. "I'm close, kid, just a little more..."

Knelle indulged him, shuddering as his oversensitive cock was tickled and rubbed by the wolf's protruding belly. His eyes were clenched tight, jaws set in a grimace as he bounced. It was all for Ryan at that point, and the cat said as much when he whispered, "This is just for you, hon. Are you gonna cum for me?"

Ryan relaxed in his seat and Knelle put his paws on the wolf's breast. His fingers slipped around Ryan's moobs before he realized what he was touching and sheepishly slid them higher. He clenched on Ryan's member, but not intentionally; his muscles contracted in the warmth of his afterglow. "C'mon, Ryan," he said, shivering. "I wanna enjoy the storm..."

The wolf gnawed on his jowl, folding his arms behind his head. It was subtle, but he was huffing through his nostrils, flaring them wide. Pinned between his back and the seat, his tail tried to wag. "God, kid," he sighed. "Just goddamn. Here you go, you sure as hell earned this."

Just a few seconds passed before he hissed through his teeth; a wave of pleasure washed over him. His cock twitched inside of Knelle, tweaking harshly enough against his anal walls that the cat gasped and smashed himself flush to Ryan again, wrapping his small arms around the wolf. Ryan lazily hugged Knelle as he shot, blowing two, three, and finally four thick ropes of pent-up trucker spunk deep inside of the prettyboy cat. It didn't escape the cat; he was snug as could be around Ryan despite the subtle swell of his freshly-fucked pucker.

"That was damn good," Ryan sighed. "Uh... kid, here. Lemme lean over with you. Can you--?"

Knelle giggled, moving with the wolf. "No, I got it. It's fine." He shifted with Ryan and rolled up the passenger-side window, and then he settled back into Ryan's lap, chest to chest and sharing gentle kisses. They listened to the storm together.

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rceebe-blog · 7 years

Text

Lazy Morning (Commission)

A quickie for Rosenade, a new customer who wanted to see a pair of Pokemon dadbods gettin' frisky in the morning, including some ass eating. Well, don't you know that breakfast is the most important meal of the day? <:3c Be sure to get some sausage too. Dick joke! This was fun to write! I don't get to work with mature lovers often. Thumbnail background is from Textures.com. Writing (C) me Alistair and Joseph (C) FA: rosenade Delphox, Lucario and Pokemon (C) Nintendo

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