#Clegan
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Gale is madly in love in every damn scene, he can't even hide it.
There’s so much fondness in his eyes every time he looks at Bucky! 🥰 It’s such an interesting part of Gale that he clearly enjoys Bucky's shenanigans even though he usually just watches. They amuse him. He loves it that Bucky does a lot of these things for him. Serenades him, makes a fool of himself to make Gale laugh, aims his jokes to connect with Gale and tries to get noticed by Gale. I don’t think Gale has ever met another person who noticed him and wanted his attention this much.
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john "bucky" egan + text posts
#love this mentally unwell man with all my heart#and a bit of clegan for good measure lol#john bucky egan#john egan#clegan#mota#masters of the air#mine
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So @umika asked if John touched Gale's thigh when he sat down at the table with RAF pilots.
No, he didn't touch it. Unfortunately. Although I initially thought so too.
The whole point is that John and Gale sit the way Callum and Austin, who play them, do. Callum sits with his legs spread wide apart, and Austin sits (almost always) with his legs crossed (God I hope Callum doesn't take public transport because with that kind of manspreading people will hate him there).
This way, Gale's legs under the table take up less space, which Bucky immediately takes up.
From the angle it was shown in the movie, it looks strange and it seems that John's hand goes too far to the side and Gale's leg should already be there, but it's not there and Bucky slaps HIMSELF'S leg.
But in my mind, of course, his hand is grabbing Gale's thigh, and there's no damn other way, because Bucky adores every inch of Gale's long legs.
#clegan#gale cleven#john egan#austin butler#callum turner#Gale's thighs#Gale's long legs#mota#masters of the air
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Barbed Wire Hearts AU social media posts part 1/?
@swifty-fox @trashbag-baby666 @onyxsboxes @carnevol @stoneinyourshoe
#love my cowboys#barbed wire hearts au#buck x bucky#buck x bucky au#clegan#au#john bucky egan#bull rider john egan#gale buck cleven#team roper gale cleven#curtis biddick#curt biddick#rodeo clown curt biddick#ken lemmons#ken x curt#curt x ken#bwh au#mota#mota au#mota rodeo au#mota cowboy au#masters of the air#masters of the air au#harry crosby#rosie rosenthal#robert rosie rosenthal
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Honestly so intrigued by the idea of a role swap between Bucky and Gale when it comes to who took the London weekend pass and who got shot down first.
Gale convinces Harding to give both of them a weekend pass thinking that's the only way to convince Bucky to take a break, paint the town red in London until Bucky starts to feel better, but Bucky says no like Gale did. Gale still goes because he needs a break from missions, from base life, and, as much as he hates to admit it, from Bucky himself right now.
Bucky goes up like Gale did, and Bucky doesn't come back like Gale did.
Gale has a calmer time in London than Bucky, but he still sees the headlines about the 8th and the lost 30 bombers. The panic that runs through him would probably mirror the panic Bucky felt. The urgent need to know what happened, thoughts spinning as he tells himself that Bucky wasn't one of the men the papers say got shot down.
Gale's widow arc after escaping was characterized by desperation, a quiet bone deep desperation tinged by Gale's guilt at leaving Bucky behind. The pain that Bucky gave up his chance at freedom for him cut deep into him. There was some rage during the escape, but once he got to England, you could tell Gale's strings had been cut. His rage melted into grief and desperation. He held white knuckled to the hope, the delusion even, that Bucky was fine, he's always fine, he just had to stay for the men.
His grief after learning Bucky went down in a role swap would be closer to rage, I think. Rage at the Germans sure, but rage at Bucky mostly. Gale tried to get him to London, damn near begged him to come with him because he knew something was going to happen if he didn't get Bucky out of that cockpit.
Of course, the anger is just so he can hide how much Bucky's 'death' is killing him. He's good at hiding his emotions by slipping on a mask and burying them deep within himself, but everyone can see he isn't doing well. The grief and rage are just too much. Gale's slipping, and without Bucky, no one knows how to help him. This isn't the Major Cleven they know. This is the Buck without his namesake that none of them ever expected to see.
Gale would do as Bucky did. Leave London and demand that he be placed on the next possible mission. The pair are a bit too similar sometimes, and he'd want back in the saddle before he processed his emotions. He's back on base when everyone knows Harding didn't call him in from London. He's standing silently at the bar, not ordering a thing simply there because he's still so used to his routine with Bucky that nowhere else feels right. At least here he's with the men. At least here he can pretend Bucky's asking the bartender to fill up his flask. At least here he can be haunted.
No one knows how to handle Buck like this. They've never seen Buck like this with his emotions so volatile as his mask slips. Benny tries to talk to him, but Gale shrugs him off. Jack and Red both try to talk to him, but Gale simply asks when the briefing is. No one can get through to him.
Gale leaves behind Bucky's lucky deuce. He'd carried it for Bucky's sake, and now there's no Bucky to worry.
Oh but what if that's where the role swap ends? Buck still ends up at Stalag Luft III before Bucky, and it's the final nail in Bucky's coffin for Buck. Bucky isn't here. Gale's lost any hope he'd gained seeing Brady and Crank waiting at the fence. Even when Brady swears Bucky bailed before him, he grieves.
Everyone's sure that they're going to lose Gale now. You need strength and at least some measure of hope or fight to survive the camp, and Gale has none of that. He really did think that they'd be the last two left in the air when all of this was over. That dream doesn't matter when he's the only one left. He lost everything when Bucky went down.
Two days later, Bucky walks through the fence, and the heart that stopped beating in Gale's chest back in London finally starts up. Hope returns, and with it, his will to see both of them through this.
#mota#masters of the air#buck x bucky#clegan#gale buck cleven#john bucky egan#gale cleven#buck cleven#bucky egan#john egan#role swap au#buckbucky
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Fucking a hallucination of your best buddy on his grave. Fellas.
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omg it was so hard to pick butttt could i request 1 and 2 from the smut dialogue list (list 3) with buck and bucky!
prompts | "i want to hear you beg" + "arch your back for me" + playing around with smth a little different for their dynamic <33 ~800 words of filth below the cut >:-) this was so much fun ahh thx sm for the request!!
“Oh, baby,” John rumbles appreciatively, sitting back to get a good look at Gale while he rolls his hips languidly into him. “Look at you.”
Golden hair frames Gale’s head on the pillow like a halo, blue eyes half hidden by heavy eyelids, doll–like lashes fluttering each time John sinks his cock in deeper. Messy love bites mark a trail south, scattered across his chest and stomach and increasing in numbers where angular hip bones and soft thighs had just begged for John’s teeth to make themselves at home.
Gale rocks his hips down, dragging his kiss–bitten bottom lip between his teeth to muffle a needy little noise as John’s eyes rake over him. That just won’t do.
John stills, wrapping firm hands around Gale’s thighs where they drape over his own, squeezing gently.
“Keep going,” Gale breathes out, eyebrows knit together in frustration, still trying to fuck himself on John’s cock.
John purrs out a laugh, heart twisting in his chest at the glare Gale shoots him; it’s hard to look intimidating when he’s laid out pliant and pretty and cock–drunk beneath him, but John doesn’t tell him so. He just snaps his hips forward once, watching with satisfaction when the scowl leaps off of Gale’s face as flushed lips fall open to let out a gasp.
“John,” Gale almost, almost whines when he makes no move to continue, lithe hands coming up to wrap around John’s wrists imploringly, and John hums thoughtfully, stroking his thumbs over Gale’s thighs.
“You need something?” He tilts his head, feeling a little thrill at the huff he gets in return.
Gale levels him with an unimpressed look, but the light flush that creeps over his cheeks betrays him.
“I want you to ask for it,” John murmurs. He grants Gale with the smallest roll of his hips to egg him on when he stays silent, and he feels his hands tighten around his wrists.
“Want you to fuck me, John.”
And oh, that’s something– his cock twitches at the rare vulgarity, and judging by Gale’s sharp inhale, he feels it. But it’s not quite what John’s looking for.
“That’s good, baby,” he praises him, delighting in the way his flush deepens. He leans down, sliding his hands up Gale’s hips as he goes, settling them on his waist. He brushes his lips against Gale’s in a ghost of a kiss, trailing them along his jaw until he reaches his ear.
“But I wanna hear you beg for me, Gale,” he whispers.
The immediate pressure around his cock as Gale reflexively clenches down has his head dropping into the crook of Gale’s neck momentarily, cursing under his breath. He can’t help but press his hips forward, needing just a bit of relief, sitting back up once he collects himself, determined to keep the upper hand.
“C’mon,” he rasps out, running his hands up and down Gale’s sides, fingers splaying over his ribcage. “I know you can do it, angel.”
Gale does whine this time, high and desperate in his throat, eyes slipping closed to hide from his own embarrassment. But–
“Please, John,” he says, barely above a whisper. “Need you.”
“Jesus, Gale,” John breathes, head spinning. “Good, so good, baby.”
John’s not going to push– that’s already a lot more than he’s usually able to goad out of Gale, and he’s going to unravel a lot quicker than he intends to if he keeps talking like that.
“Arch your back for me, pretty thing,” John prompts instead, beginning to shallowly fuck into him, and Gale does, tilting his head back on the pillow to bare his neck as his spine curves beneath John’s hands.
The sight nearly knocks the breath out of John, and he groans, sliding one hand under Gale to flatten his palm against the small of his back, feeling the way it flexes as he jerks his hips forward.
Gale cries out so sweetly when he really starts driving his cock into him, grasping desperately at John’s arms, face going slack as he finally gives him what he needs, and it gets to John like nothing else, forever dizzy with the knowledge that he gets to make Gale feel so good.
Dragging those pretty noises out of Gale and feeling him tremble because of him is what really does it for John every time, and it’s what inevitably has him tipping over the edge seconds after Gale spills over his stomach with a broken whimper.
John sinks his teeth into Gale’s collarbone just to feel him squirm beneath him as he fills him up, hands digging into his hips, rutting into him like he can bury his cock impossibly deeper, feeling nails scrabble at his back as the softest mewls escape Gale’s mouth.
He laves his tongue over the fresh indents in apology before lifting his head to capture Gale’s lips in a messy kiss, swallowing his gasps and sighs as he gives him a few more lazy thrusts, chest warm and fuzzy and lovestruck.
John smiles into the kiss, and Gale laughs softly, and god, he’s going to be the death of him.
#a bit of cheeky service!top john standing his ground for once because he wants to make his pretty thing beg? yeah <3#little headcanon that some nights when john's in control he still knows not to push too hard or he'll end up pinned beneath gale lol <3#sometimes it's a real effort to stay composed and in control because if gale wants to he knows exactly what to say to unravel john#but they both love the push and pull and the fight for control is half the fun some days mwah#buckbucky#clegan#johnslittlespoon asks#johnslittlespoon spicy#johnslittlespoon prompt fills#still taking request asks from the prompt list btw! just very slow at getting to asks atm bc i'm busy writing yad(iym) <3
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clegan x f1 socmed au *ੈ✩‧₊˚
john egan is a hot-headed formula one driver for mercedes and gale cleven is the rebel son of the mercedes’ team principal, who happens to drive for ferrari.
when gale decides to make his father’s life a hell on the track, he makes john’s as well, and things heat up.
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Characters Part 1
John Egan (Bucky)
mercedes driver, world champion, yankees fan, funniest guy in town (according to himself)
Gale Cleven (Buck)
ferrari driver, has a lot of fans, chased by the media for being James Cleven’s son.
Curtis Biddick (Curt)
red bull driver, bisexual, pretends to be gangsta and straight, secretly a lover boy.
Harry Crosby (Croz)
john’s race engineer, always rethinking his life choices, terrified of journalists and media in general, and everything that might be stressful.
#mota#john egan#gale cleven#curt biddick#clegan#mota au#buck x bucky#bucky egan#buck cleven#mota fanfic#harry crosby#mota f1
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“I’m sorry, I’m just—I’m just really tired.”
Please.
He didn’t know how it happened. Gale was getting the food out for lunch when suddenly what was in his hand was on the floor, bowl broken in half and potato salad scattered on the tile. They had just made that yesterday. Bucky loved it, and the refrigerator door was still open and Gale’s hands were shaking it and it was all his fault.
Bucky’s curly head peeked around the doorway, no doubt drawn by the loud sound, but Gale couldn’t look at him, instead staring at the mess and feeling a lot like drowning.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, throat closing up. He rubbed his eyes. “I’m just—I’m just really tired.”
He knew Bucky knew this. Gale hadn’t been sleeping well and Bucky was there through all his tossing and turning and headaches and nightmares. He’d been getting sick so often, catching every germ that went by as a result of years of cold and malnutrition, which also, apparently—according to recent doctors—also weakened his heart. It was common for POW, they said.
Bucky’s body was broken down too, with his own set of war-related problems, but he wasn’t the one that couldn’t do anything right and had a dropped a brand-new potato salad, was he?
Gale’s hands shook more as he picked up the bowl pieces and dumped them in the sink, but before he could return to the mess of potatoes Bucky was there, chest to chest and putting his arms around him. Gale’s shame doubled.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted, eyes squeezed shut.
“Don’t.” Bucky’s voice was firm, rumbling through his chest and into Gale’s. “You got nothing to be sorry for.”He guided Gale’s head to rest his chin on his shoulder, but from there Gale could see the scattered potato salad and shameful tears sprung to his eyes.
“But I wasted the food.”
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault,” Bucky insisted gently. “There’s more. We can make more.” He pulled away slightly, rubbing Gale’s arms. “Go lay down.”
Gale started to shake his head but Bucky stopped him with hands cradling his face and forehead pressed to Gale’s.
“Go.”
The word was gently commanding like only Bucky could make it, filled with so much love and reassurance that Gale gave in. He nodded a little, and Bucky pecked him on the lips, slipping away.
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i cannot stop thinking about how gale still has those goddamn fucking toothpicks in his mouth while FLYING A FUCKING B-17 THAT IS ACTIVELY BEING ATTACKED. can u guys imagine the plane getting jostled by flak or something and he gets stabbed in the mouth by it. can you imagine how much john would make fun of him for it. after seeing him climb out of his fort bleeding from the mouth and getting all worried and making sure he’s okay of course.
#god he would never hear the fucking end of it#i wonder how many of them he’s broken on accident and ended up with wood splinters in his mouth mid mission#i also think often of him kissing john with a toothpick in and how damn much he would complain about it#fuck i gotta put this in a fic#gale cleven#buck cleven#gale buck cleven#mota#masters of the air#john egan#bucky egan#john bucky egan#clegan#buck x bucky#sky.txt
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“Honey, have you been crying? What is it? What’s wrong?” buck x bucky?
Hello! Do you know you're my very first Anon ask in my inbox? Thrilled to have you!
Anyway, I had fun with this one. Please enjoy this wee Modern Gale/John, with echoes of a past life. I hope you like it, and thanks for being so patient with me :)
“You look just like my friend Buck from Manitowoc.”
The kitchen table was cold, but it barely registered against the chill those dreams left behind
God, John was so damn sick of those dreams. He was so sick of being paralysed by sleep and being force to watch the same reel he’d dreamed of time and time again flicker through his head.
He had no choice but to watch these two men meet over and over again; to watch a friendship roar to life through immediate unbounded affection and unfurling gestures of trust. He watched as smiles helped to alleviate the hardest days of basic training; as quiet moments together gave them a space to sort out their thoughts away from the rest of them; as spirited discussions led to better strategies, better leadership, and endless respect between these two men.
He watched as physical affection grounded the men when they needed it most: arms thrown over shoulders, hands squeezing thighs, gentle chucks to the chin.
“Don’t you die on me before I get over there.”
John had to watch something in Bucky change after that first combat flight.
“I got a nickname for you and it ain’t Buck!”
No. No one was Buck. Why couldn’t he just say that, though? John tried to yell at Bucky as he dreamed - tried to scream at him - just tell him!
“I don’t feel a thing.”
In these strange and awful dreams, John had to watch Bucky lose his men and go out of his way to get himself hurt because it was the only way he could let himself acknowledge the pain without crumbling to dust underneath it.
“We’re gonna get through this. Come on. Don’t you stop believing that.”
John had to watch Bucky package away all his fears, his frustrations, his doubts, and hide it all the way out of Buck’s sight. He’d believe enough for the two of them. He’d get them both out of there if it killed him.
“London. Let’s do it up. Paint the town red.”
“Maybe next time.”
John had to watch Bucky watch Buck dance away with Meatball - so utterly ridiculous and endearing and he feels the grief start to flare to life in his chest. Don’t go. Don’t you goddamn leave him again. Go up with him. Fly with him. Don’t let yourselves go alone!
“Did he have a good game?”
John had to watch Bucky lose Buck all over again, and saw the angry, violent grief wash over this man and drag him down, passed the man he used to be; down in the esteem of his men; and down into enemy territory and the horrors he had to feel and flee and flee again.
Until:
“Do any of you know if Buck made it?”
“John Egan! Your two o’clock!”
John finally got to see Bucky feel the smallest flash of incandescent joy as he realises Buck is alive and he might be able to keep his promise after all. But soon after, when time starts to pass in the Stalag, he has to watch Bucky spiral, and he sees Buck watching and trying to keep the men and himself together so they can keep Bucky together. But it’s like keeping water in a cracked vase. John had to watch Buck witness Bucky lose himself until he was so unrecognisable that he hurt Buck and Buck punched him -
And John had to watch that awful march in the cold and the dark, and see the terror both Buck and Bucky feel when the other stumbles or slows.
And then it’s the night in the village when Bucky sacrifice the only two things that kept him breathing - Buck and his freedom - without a second thought. So long as Buck got out. John had to watch Bucky throw himself at the German with the gun and knock the rifle away because he couldn’t risk a stray bullet.
“Go! Get out of here!”
And when John finally got to see Bucky and Buck reunite, all they get to share is a handshake, which they clutch to like a lifeline, and later a flask. Then he’s watching Buck and Bucky go their separate ways until Bucky is at Buck’s back as he gets married -
“John? You in here, baby?”
John returns to the present, and his eyes latch onto the sleepy posture, messy hair, and concerned gaze of his husband standing in the kitchen doorway. His Gale. Who pads over on bare feet and John feels the heat of his long, strong hands cupping his cheeks.
John always felt overwhelmed by his love whenever he looked at Gale, but tonight he burns with a love, a desperation, that feels more than his own; more than he could fit into one lifetime. And the edges of the dream still toe the boundaries of his consciousness.
“Honey, have you been crying? What is it? What’s wrong?”
John only feels the tears now, as they roll fat and slow down from the corners of his eyes. His nose stings and his throat feels thick.
He whispers brokenly, “Buck…”
Gale’s face crumples as he recognises the name. John only ever calls him that after those dreams. Those awful, heartbreaking dreams of Buck and Bucky, gifted the joy of knowing each other, loving each other, and torn apart time and time again.
Gale grabs handfuls of John and switches places, so he can sit down and gather and tuck John into his lap, until all of him is curled and curved and protected in his embrace.
Buck might not have been able to do this for Bucky, but Gale can do it for John. And be grateful for the privilege.
He places slow, heavy strokes down John’s side as he shakes.
After a time, he mumbles against Gale’s chest, “Do you think they ever got to be happy?”
See, John is convinced they were real, Buck and Bucky. Gale has even offered to look them up, see if he can find some kind of record in the archives. But something about getting that confirmation, seeing the faces of two men that John sees as echoes of them - it's too much. He doesn't want to know.
“I don’t know,” Gale answers truthfully. “But right here, now, we can be happy enough for both of ‘em.”
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These two scenes perfectly capture the deep love John and Gale feel for each other, (John's trembling lip, the profound pain in Gale's eyes...). The heartbreaking fear of loss, the uncertainty of not knowing anything about each other's fate or if they will meet again, the feeling of crumbling inside, and the loneliness as if they were missing an essential part of themselves. It breaks my heart in two and, at the same time, heals it when I see how much Gale Cleven and John Egan love each other.
😭💔💔 This broke my heart, what a great parallel! Thank you for sharing it, dear.
You can also see Gale moving his jaw as if he's pushing back his tears. 😢 These are two of their hardest moments. I think they must feel guilt too, for leaving the other. They look like they can hardly breathe.
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Imagine john and gale having a fight . They both said things that they shouldn't have things that were meant to tear the others heart opened.
In the midst of the chaos john gets up and leaves , to get some fresh air and cool off before he says another hurtful thing to gale that he's going to regret in the morning.
After fifteen minutes have gone past and he has calmed down and thought of how he's going to apologize to gale about that things he said . As soon as he opens the door with an apologize to his lips , he is met with the weight of his partner that has flung himself at him and babbling apologizes over and over again .
Later when they both have calmed down , gale will confess to him that he thought he left for good and john will cradle his face in his hands and kiss him softly and he will tell him that as long as he breathes he will never leave his side .
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I kept thinking what this reminds me of
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HBO War + Headlines & Text Posts
MOTA caps from @itstheheebiejeebies
#sorry about the ack ack one 🙈😭#george luz#hbo war#the pacific#band of brothers#masters of the air#ronald speirs#harry crosby#speirton#john egan#bucky egan#clegan#buck x bucky#bucky x buck#curtis biddick#the pacific spoilers#mine: text post memes#not gonna tag ack ack bc if anyone tracks it i don't want to get them excited seeing a new post in the tag and its this fucking meme lol 😭
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Hear me out - sex phone operator Gale. With his low voice and poetic words, he's the most popular voice in the agency. In real life, however, he's an introverted mess who can't flirt to save his life
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Last Seen Blogs
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Naming Stuff is Hard, Amiright?