Fine, OK, it's not just Jack, Dónal, Paddy/Eoin and SAS: Rogue Heroes anymore. I've been sucked in (lol) by MOTA too, particularly Clegan. Goes by Dima (pronounced DEE-muh). She/her, fandom old (40+).
Obssessed with size queen!gale and packing!john from the biglawbuckies,…., like john must have seen the looks from gale (who is absolutely not looking at all, and if he is looking, then is a negligible amount, he wouldnt even bill it, so really hes soo normal, i mean everyone looks at times, its fine)
oh you know he did anon
gale's inner monologue: I am neutrally Observing my best friend's body. I am being Observant. Normal guys do this. I am just a normal guy who is Observant. Actually it would be less normal if I avoided looking at my best friend's massive dick. Then it would look like I'm uncomfortable or judgmental! which I am not!!! I am merely Observing my surroundings which often include my best friend's massive dick. And sometimes I get lost in thought and focus on a single object while thinking deeply which is a normal thing that happens to normal people. It is completely reasonable for my line of sight to naturally land on my best friend's massive dick. which is a very normal thing to Observe.
and meanwhile john is like ... hmm yeah I'll wear these ugly ass lululemon golf pants again, I got a cumulative .6 hours of staring out of gale last time I wore them
Another noise slips its way free of Gale, something soft and sweet that he’s pulled from Marge before. Pleasure at holding and being held, then wet smell of sex rising between them all musky and animal.
John’s fingers creep down further, bending Gale’s pubic hair backwards in a faint tickle. Gale arches, sparks lacing through him and John hums a quiet soothe. Lips press to Gales neck, holding the suction without lifting any marks. Kittenish and sweet as Gale once again tries to find the bite and sting he had been expecting, if he ever got far enough in hoping to reach the stage for imagination. His fingers dig in, hips pressing up eager, expecting John to push back, hold him down. Make him wait or make him fight.
His big body had always been a point of fixation for Gale. Coltish and then all big draft. Something about him that, no matter how neck and neck they stayed in all else, left Gale feeling like he was a teenager. Peering in curious, fleeting glances, as the strips of man exposed by the oil field workers around him. Trying to work out what was regular education, and what was just strange. Men who moved different than he did, moved atop their wives at home in the same, gentling way that his father did. There was nothing they needed to bruise out from themselves with another man.
Gale throws himself against the wall of body above him, hoping that something will break off and lodge.
Maybe his family was super affectionate when he was growing up, but once he had his last big growth spurt the hugs and cuddles suddenly stopped because he was A Man now. It leaves him wishing he could feel small and cherished and taken care of again, but because of his size he's always expected to be the caretaker. 😔
Maybe he'd like for someone to put an arm around HIS shoulders. 🥺 Maybe he'd like to be a sweet pillow princess and make breathy little sounds while someone lovingly fucks HIM. 🥺🥺 Maybe he'd like to hear Gale's someone's low, low voice praising him and talking him through all the pleasure he can stand and more. 🥺🥺🥺
20 year old Gale x 40 year old John……….i just came everywhere oh you genius
yeah I just think that 20 year old gale seducing 40 year old john for the challenge and john sort of trying to resist but not that hard and he falls flat on his face when he realizes gale isn't just hot and evil but also kind of an admirable intelligent freak with several complexes and he goes from "ahhh oh nooo haha don't seduce meeee" to "I'm going to fuck you into next week" rq
Let's say a year after returning stateside -- after months of Gale finding ways to push the wedding back -- everything falls apart between him and Marge. They part ways amicably enough, but the deterioration of the life he'd envisioned for so long leaves him reeling.
One day, without letting himself think about it, Gale finds himself packing a bag, climbing into his truck and driving hours upon hours to Wisconsin. To Bucky.
He knows he should call ahead but can't bring himself to. Doesn't even know what he'll say when he sees Bucky, much less what he could tell him over a telephone call.
Gale arrives at what he thinks is Bucky's house just before sunset. It's small, but well-tended. Not allowing for hesitation, he walks to the door and knocks brusquely, duffel thrown over his shoulder.
It's a matter of seconds before the door swings open, and Gale flinches back when he sees the man standing inside. A wide grin slowly falls off the man's face, leaving behind something close to shock. Gale thinks their expressions must look about as much alike as the two of them do.
"Buck from Manitowoc, I assume?" Gale finally asks, voice strained.
The man nods, blond hair just a shade lighter than Gale's and eyes a shade darker. "Which would make you Buck from Casper," he says.
Gale shuffles his feet and offers: "I think it might be easier if we stick with Gale. Gale Cleven. I'm here to see Bucky?" It comes out a question.
The man -- Buck, the real Buck -- crosses his arms, and his voice and face are far from welcoming when he says, "He's not here right now."
"So this is Bucky's place?" Gale asks.
Buck's eyes narrow as he inspects Gale from the top of his head to the tips of his boots. "Our place," he says firmly. "And he didn't say anyone was coming to visit."
Our place echoes in in Gale's ears, a flush rising in his cheeks at the implication. "Uh, that's my mistake," Gale says after a too-long pause. "I was just passing through and thought we might be able to catch up."
"Mmmhmm," Buck hums, eyes flicking to the duffel and then back to Gale with a raised eyebrow.
Gale swallows hard. "Maybe I'll catch him on the way back through," he says, as if he has anywhere else to go at all.
"Sure," Buck says. "Probably best if you call ahead in that case."
"Right," Gale says, taking a step back before he registers the sound of a vehicle rumbling closer and closer until it pulls to a stop behind him.
Gale can't quite bring himself to turn around, locked in a staring contest with the other Buck until a car door slams and footsteps falter on their way to the porch.
"Buck?" John says, and it's reflex to turn and face him. John's mouth hangs open, looking back and forth between Gale and the man he's living with. The man he named Gale after.
Gale doesn't even know which one of them John's talking to.
...
And then more stuff would happen, IDK! But lots of jealousy for sure, as neither Buck is sure who's a stand-in for whom. 😌
dededos
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yousharknotpass
theartofmadeline
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