i know there's a lot of fics where shane and ilya switch and it's all very emotional and devastating but i think they should have a stupid fucking time.
like they made a really dumb bet while competing and ilya really didn't think he'd lose and honestly shane also didn't think he'd win lowkey but like, hey, a bet's a bet, alright? so now they're trying to be so serious but they can't stop laughing at each other and chirping. shane follows ilya into the shower and gives wayyy too many douching instructions and ilya is like hollander i know you are internationally ranked gay bottom but i can clean my own asshole and shane is like well first of all i'm not internationally ranked and ilya goes no? but what about our honeymoon, and all those times in america, they do not count as international? and shane says okay maybe shut the fuck up. i have the experience here okay, just do what i'm telling you! and ilya says yes bottom coach, right away bottom coach, and they have to slightly delay the fucking process again because it caught shane off guard enough that he almost slipped a little bit because he was laughing too hard and lost his balance.
and finally they GET out of the fucking shower and ilya is laying on the bed on top of his towel and shane is like well? are you not going to make this easy on me? because his legs are crossed over at the ankle and ilya gasps dramatically, hand to his chest. i cannot believe this, shane. you think i'm easy? i should be spreading my legs for you whenever i see you? and shane who absolutely does kind of do that is like okay you asshole i am going to make you regret that so once again they just end up wrestling on the bed (sturdy enough to take this kind of roughhousing, because their first one hadn't survived it) and shane is kind of humping his dick at ilya's hip from where he's ended up pinned under him and then when ilya arches an eyebrow at him he's all OKAY YES i GOT IT and rolls over to grab the lube. ilya takes advantage to grope his ass and shane is half arching his back before he ends up swatting his side because the bet, come on. and shane is finally fingering ilya but ilya is kind of backseat driving the topping and shane is like. ilya do you want me to fuck you or not because i swear to GOD and ilya goes okay, okay, don't blame me! i am the top expert, yes? i have the fucking experience, i can be your dick coach here! and they're both trying not to laugh again at fucking dick coach and shane has notched the tip of his dick in and only sunk in a little when the though hits him and he goes, out loud, ilya goddamnit i'm going to be thinking of this when we see coach wiebe tomorrow! and ilya laughs so fucking hard that shane slaps at his side again, ilya don't laugh! i just got you to loosen up for me! and ilya says oh i'm sorry is my tight ass too much for you to handle? and shane comes too soon but he ends up blowing ilya and rimming him after because after ilya's come he tries to pull away and ilya slings a leg over him and says where do you think you're going, hmm? clean up your mess.
anyway the next day neither of them can look at wiebe and spend twenty minutes giggling stupidly in practice
I am plagued by thoughts of non-serum, masochistic Steve trying as fucking hard as he can to take disarmingly attractive, charming, and hugely bulky Bucky's huge dick. I'm talking big. That thing is inconveniently big for an average-sized bottom, let alone a stubborn little slip of a thing like Steve.
Their first time, despite hours of fingering and prep and Steve's determination, they just can't make it fit. Steve cries on it, wanting to take all of it, but he can't. And Bucky knows that not being able to take it is turning Steve on 'cause he's a little freak...
👀
With two, thick fingers plunging in deep and curling erotically as they're pulled back to tug on his rim, Bucky finger-fucks Steve like he's trying to force him up and down the bed—sensually, pleasurably friction burned with his head knocking against the headboard when Bucky's fingers slllide deep inside only to be brought back down the mattress, through the mused, fucked-up sheets, by the filthy way he hooks his fingers inside and rubs at his spread-open, ruined hole from the inside.
Guh.
Plunging deep. Pulling out. In. Out. In out.
Guh.
Every pull back, Steve's body shudders uncontrollably. Really, he can't fucking move, though. He's barely ninety pounds with two hundred and sixty pounds flattening him, face down against a sweat-soaked, sex-smothered bed, he can't get anywhere. He can't get anything done. He can't think.
Straddling his obscenely wide spread thighs, pinning him by sitting on the backs of his poor knees, to say that Bucky is overpowering him would be an understatement. God. Steve wants it, though. Every lube-drenched, aching slide of his fingers takes Steve apart more.
More.
More.
That's why he's fucking here. Pinned like a butterfly to a corkboard.
Bucky.
Bucky's so much heavier. So much bigger. And there's no way to say it, other than to say it, his cock is no fucking exception. His fucking cock. Jesus Christ. It has to be more of a hindrance than anything. Steve has never felt the saying hung like a horse before the way he feels it now—
With the other man's huge, fat cock—too huge—lying so heavy and thick against the back of his thigh, slathered obscenely in lube (from an optimistic attempt to stick it in him earlier) and dripping pre-cum into the downy, soft blonde hairs at the back of Steve's pale, lithe thigh.
More than fingers, mass, and cock, Bucky has a goddamn mouth on him—
A mouth that is running.
“You're so fucked up, aren't you, doll?” Steve can hear the dangerous grin he's wearing. The only thing he's wearing right now.
Miraculously, more than hearing his cocky, mind-melting hot voice, Steve processes those words and. Fuck.
Steve doesn't want to know what sound rips out of his drooling, gaped lips. He knows it's pornographic and humiliating. That's enough.
Whatever it is, it apparently sounds close enough to agreement that Bucky keeps talking his talk, suave bastard, “mmm-hmm, darlin’. My lil’ freak. Think about it.” Steve can't. He can't think. Still, deep inside him, fingering him until he's so open, lax, and boneless he'll never move again, Bucky demands he does. He demands he choke on pleasure and opens wide for his double-the-size body (probably more and, oh god, doesn't that just make Steve clench tight, thinking that Bucky is literally more than twice his size). “Imagine if your friends could see you now, hmm? Should'a listened to them, Stevie baby.” He purrs. “They told you I was bad news. They knew this would happen.”
Steve is unfathomably red from his forehead plastered with his sweat-soaked hair to his curling toes. He loves it.
“They knew your dirty little secret, didn't they?”
There isn't a shot in hell that Steve can respond. It doesn't matter. He isn't a participant here. He's a toy. An object. A fleshlight. Meant to be stretched and filled.
“They knew you were greedy and you wouldn't be able to help yourself, honey. You're too greedy. You just can't help yourself, I know. I know.”
He's gurgling on his own spit, overflowing just from fingers. How and why did they even try cock before? This is sofuckinggood. He is liquified. Quivering as a puddle—an ocean soaking into the bed like it's nothing but a sponge.
Sweat.
Lube.
Drool.
Tears.
He can't help himself, Bucky's right.
“You wanted it so bad. And ‘m so sorry we couldn't make it fit in ya, honey. But…” he lowers himself down flatter, closer, cock absolutely plastered against Steve's body, crushing him, and whispers, soft lips and sharp stubble dragging sensually over Steve's burning ear, “I know you like it anyway. You're getting off on this.” It isn't a question.
He is.
He is.
It's so fucking boiling hot that when Bucky peels himself off of Steve, sitting back up, all Steve can do is writhe, desperate, totally blind and deaf to all that isn't in this room, on this bed, within reach of Bucky. Right here. Right now.
Yes.
“You’re so fucked up, aren't you?” His fingers do something devastating inside. “You're so greedy for it, huh? It doesn't fit and you like it. You like that it hurt.”
Steve cries out, just at the reminder. It did hurt. It hurt so bad that tears just gushed out of him and his mouth started to water involuntarily like, impossibly, his gag reflex was triggered. So deep inside him. It hurt. But it was all he's ever wanted, the hot sting of pain and the excruciating fullness of being, just, stuffed full. To the teeth.
“You held out to the fucking last minute, didn't you, you stubborn son of a bitch. You moaned like a whore for it, trying to get me to shove it in more anyway. I bet if your tight little ass was a fucking tiny bit looser I could've fucked right from your ass into your throat, hmm?”
Steve thrashes.
“You wanna choke and cry on it, honey?”
He is losing his mind. He has lost his mind. Already. This can't be real. Holy shit.
“Yeah. Yeah, I know you fucking do. Tsk, tsk,” he clicks his tongue, pawing at his ass, “just look at you—look at this hole. This fuckin’ hole wants more than it can take. I know. You're hungry. You're greedy. You're so fucked up, gagging for it even though you know it's not gonna fit. A little freak like you? What're you gonna do with all this cock anyway?”
“Hmm?” Bucky purrs, pleased to destroy him while remaining so composed that unless Steve couldn't feel his huge cock rutting against the back of his thigh, he wouldn't know this is turning him on at all. “What was that?”
It just fucking bursts out of Steve then, choked and through chest rattling sobs, blindly clawing at the tangled sheets around him, he blabbers, “a-AH-ANYTHING.” It's a dam breaking. Suddenly, there is a flood. “Any—anythng, mmnngh, pluh-please! Pluh-z, pl'z, put—”
“Puh-put! Put it in meee!” Tears rush down his sizzling hot cheeks.
And at the same time that Bucky rapidly, smoothly pulls out his two fingers to replace them with his thumb, shoving into his slick, sore, pried-open hole to abuse his prostate even more, he simply states, “no.”
And the denial, the meanness, the pleasure, the ache—
GUH.
Steve can do nothing but violently lose it, cumming so fucking guttingly hard into the erotically disheveled sheets beneath his earthquaking body that his vision goes from shot through with black dots to a void of pure, hot white. He thought Bucky's cock was going to kill him earlier, trying to fit that inconveniently fat cock inside his admittedly petite frame, and it must've, because the orgasm that's ripped out of him is so good it must be divine. This is heaven.
OH! NO! STEVE!
Finally went to see Civil War today!
I love it so much!!!! haha don’t know why when Cap is in Bucky’s room this scene just pop up in my mind sorry :P
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