Entry tags:

Yes, Master~

Consensual Control

Content Warning: Dubcon

Sex is fun. Sometimes, sex involves power dynamics. The master and the servant. The dom and the sub. Or, perhaps, something stranger. This is a meme for characters exploring the space defined by these power dynamics, without either party being forced into it against their will. It's a game, and the only winners are the ones who have a good time.

Of course, this being an RP meme, we can get a little surreal with it, too.

BDSM Rules. No outside enforcement of the dynamic; you just both agree to the rules. The safest version of this, because if you don't like what happens, you can just stop. For added fun, bring some costumes and role playing into it.
That's an Order. One of you is high enough status that the other can't freely disobey their orders. They wouldn't use that power against you, of course... but what if you asked them to?
Winner takes all. Like the first one, but with a PVP element. Have a fight, or a gamble, and wager yourself on the outcome. To the winner go the spoils, to do with as they please.
Hypnosis. Have you ever wanted to get hypnotized into being someone's sex toy? Now you can. Hypnosis is super real, and it puts you into a sort of trance that your partner can use to control you every thought.
Super Aphrodisiac. If you drink this, you'll be so overcome with lust that you won't be able to control yourself. What happens after that is out of your hands. Bottoms up.
Body control. The result of some kind of hypertech or magic ritual. For a fixed period of time, if your new master gives an order, your body will follow it automatically, with or without your permission. Depending on the version, they may even be able to control your sensitivity, or make you climax with a word.
Use your imagination. Got an idea along the theme that isn't on the list? Make up your own hook! I'm not your daddy.

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"And you're already acting a slut after one little drink." Unmoved by Bucky's open affection, thin arm a firm band around his waist, Steve starts walking them back to one of the clubs little hidey holes. Somewhere private and comfortable where Bucky can be as loud as he damn well pleases. "I don't mind you being friendly, but lett'n him feel you up like that right in front if me? It's like you want me to find other boys to play with."

And unlike the streets and clubs where Bucky draws all the eyes and his date some envy- here it's Steve with his rolling voice and steady hands, his pit of anger and gentle touch that has several pretty things, painted up and not, sighing after them when they pass.

One is even bold enough to reach out, try to tug his tie, but a quick sardonic Look from Steve has them skittering back to their booth. "I'm not hurt'n for options."

Might as well let that empty threat hang in the air- he knows Buck got slipped something, knows he was dosed. Couldn't leave him alone to suffer that if he wanted to.

Bucky lets out this shocked little punched sound. A shiver rolls through Bucky, impossible not to feel pressed so close to Steve, when Steve gets a little mean in that way Bucky maybe likes a little too much, so much that it's got Bucky reaching down to adjust himself in a way he'd never, ever do in public. But he's already aching here.

He can still feel the stranger's fingers gripping his ass like a brand, makes Bucky wonder suddenly what'd it be like to have those broad hands spreading him open right then and there, bending him over the bar. Arousal makes every inch of his skin ache for a touch - any touch - and Steve's slender arm settled nice and bossy around his waist feels so perfect.

"Oh, c'mon, don't be like that. It was just one drink," Bucky's dangerously close to a pout and narrowly avoids it. "Though if you wanted to watch..."

Bucky trails off when this guy who's too pretty for his own good siddles up to Steve, and he can't tell if he hates the way the guy's brave enough to go for Steve, or maybe likes the idea a little too much of the guy maybe joining them. Or better yet, Steve sends him packing. Bucky's fingers dip down along Steve's fine collarbones, idly popping the buttons one by one as he slips his hand downwards teasing at a dusky nipple hidden under Steve's nice shirt. So what if he's being forward out in front of everybody?

Bucky suffers a spark of inspiration. "I bet it'd give you plenty of inspiration for your next poster. You always said you could use more life models."

Edited 2025-05-31 18:21 (UTC)

"You need it that bad, Buck? You'll let just anyone get a hand on you cuz you're hard up?" Sneer thick in his voice, Steve rolls his eyes, playing it off like he's not worried. Bucky's never this hot to trot so quick-

But it has been awhile since they've had time for more than a fumbling hand between the two of them, let alone putting him down hard like he seems to need. "Keep act'n up and you'll be the one watching. You want anything, you gotta earn it by behaving-"

Fingers skin under his skirt, fever hot and fumbling but they're just about around the corner. The pinch has him swearing, damn near dropping the key. "And you ain't behaving. But there's an idea-"

Door unlocked, light on, he shoulders Bucky inside with a weak shove, trying to get him in the chair. "Lose the tie and sit pretty for me."

"I would if it's for your art," Bucky says solemnly, even though he's half lying through his teeth. If he happens to get fucked against the bar or table, or has to ride someone in a booth, well, it's definitely in the interest of helping Steve improve his anatomy drawings. Plus they bring in decent money when he gets them. And nothing to do with the way Bucky feels so warm under his clothes that he'd like nothing more than to start shedding them off before they get somewhere more decent. Or the fact that the man back there looks strong enough to fuck his brains out.

(for some reason he likes the idea of Steve having to watch, but the thought of Bucky having to sit there while some other guy gets Steve's attention. Bucky's thumb and forefinger pinch a little too hard on Steve's nipple in a surge of jealousy. Hell no.)

Bucky's breath catches and holds as Steve sets him straight. Bucky's almost not sure he's gonna make it a couple more feet. Bucky stumbles a little inside, palm digging into crotch as he swivels and sinks into a lazy sprawl in the chair, thighs falling open in invitation as he works his tie all the way off to leave it hanging, framing his shirt which is already partially unbuttoned, grey eyes dark with arousal.

The texture of his underwear against his swelling cock's kinda killing him here, and he can't quite wait. He grinds his palm into his crotch, watching Steve like he's already mentally undressing him.

"Christ, Buck, look at you." Not proud or approving at all- Steve felt that shutter when he called Bucky a slut earlier, knows how he's going to play this. Droll and disappointed, condescending and cagey. He keeps his hands in his pockets and stalks over, kicking one of Bucky's feet to spread his thighs wider still. Get that tent in his trousers all the more achingvand obvious.

"You can't behave for more than two seconds, can you? Acting up like a proper little whore." Meaner than he's tried before, but he leans right in, tangling a hand in Bucky's hair, dragging his head back to glare in his eyes. "Maybe I should get you painted up, put you in stockings and leave you tied to the bar for public use."

For a moment he considers it- not now, not tonight, but another time. Blue eyed James Barnes bound up and begging for another cock, a chance to come... it appeals.

But when he's like this, all lit up with need, hard as nails? He's Steve's. Just Steve's.

"If you were a dame your shorts would be soaked. Bet you were thinking about how good that thug could give it to you. D'you really think he could fill you up right? He has no idea how much of a goddamn brat you are, how needy you are." Here his voice gentle, even if his grip in Bucky's hair doesn't. "But I do. Thing is, you gotta earn it, and I don't know if you can tonight."

Edited 2025-05-31 19:14 (UTC)

They're still learning each other in ways that's frankly pretty damn exciting; especially considering they practically live in each other's back pockets. Bucky figured he'd had Steve pegged. But ever since that night when the power failed and Bucky had gotten on Steve's last nerves just to entertain himself, they still find new territory. Like this one. Where Steve drops the affection, looks at him like he's so far beneath him. Like he could do better than some cheap whore. God, Bucky wants to do better for him. Maybe he shouldn't have let that other guy even get that far, even though it happened so smoothly he didn't entirely notice.

Bucky kneads at himself, tracing out the hot length trapped behind his fly and lets Steve kick his feet to where he wants it, slacks tented and needing a lot more than just Bucky's hand. He's already starting to get damp against his underwear. It'd be just like Steve said: probably get so wet if he was a doll that could Steve could slide right in.

"Guess I can't help it," Bucky husks, choking on a wanting sound as Steve drags his head back, scalp smarting. Bucky's eyes are half-hooded with the drug, hungry and wanting as his hip grinds up needily into his hand at the image Steve paints. The whole damn bar having a turn at him - he squirms as if feeling each one sliding into him - all while Steve watched. At that stranger pushing into him, but no, it wouldn't be enough. "Maybe that's all I'm good for. Getting ridden hard and put away wet."

He hooks his ankle along Steve's, rubbing his sock down so he can tease at him, even as he tilts his face up towards him, lips parted, trying to just….will Steve's mouth on his. "At least let me try. I'd at least let you go first and last."

He's not looking to do that tonight when he's got Steve all to himself, but if that image isn't gonna be jerk off material for the rest of his life.

"You wanna be good for me? Get your hand off your damn cock. It ain't yours right now." The hand in Bucky's hair tightens, sneer growing on his lips, blue eyes boring into the pits of Bucky's soul. So damn needy- lives for the attention, acts out to get it. Any other night he'd play into that, make him whine and sob for needing him but...

Bucky's cock drunk without coming even once. Dosed up. So he's gotta play it slow and sly, use a different angle.

"Who do you belong to-" double down on the casual cruelty? He's not sure, but Bucky being a brat got them in this mess. If he came to the booth they could had the nice time he planned for. "Slut?"

Better to keep it mean.

It'll make the gentling all the sweeter once Bucky's good and wound up.

Immediately, Bucky jerks his hand off his dick as if burned, and nods even though it makes his eyes smart when it drags against the mean grip in his hair. God yes. He wants to be good for you. He just has a lot to make up for.

All thoughts of that sturdy guy built like he could've worked the docks next to Bucky, or thinking how maybe he would like to get railed by the entire bar tonight, go up in smoke when Steve leans in close, eyes such a piercing blue that Bucky can't focus on anything else. A little flicker of discomfort goes across his face as Steve's grip firms, dragging at his scalp hard enough to send a rush of lust down to a dick that's already feeling neglected.

Steve's got plenty of guys in the club who want a piece of him. But he's here with his best friend instead. And you'd figure it wouldn't be as interesting since it's not like Bucky's as much a mystery to unravel as those other guys are. Bucky's eyes have gone wide and startled and so, so hungry, almost glassy from the rush of lust and the drug. Not touching himself almost physically hurts at this point.

Bucky sucks in a shaking breath at the slur, cock straining desperately where it's pinned under his slacks. He feels it for some reason. Feels like tonight he'd cozy up to anyone and let them do whatever they wanted as long as he could come getting fucked to an inch of his life.

"You. I belong to you, Steve," Bucky's voice sounds ragged and breathless, like he'd sprinted across the city. He has to curl his fists in his lap so he doesn't break rank and touch himself. "I shouldn't have let that other guy get all handsy without your say-so."

"Good boy." He murmurs, leaning in almost close enough to kiss. God if he doesn't want to- Bucky when he's wound up is the most sinfully gorgeous thing he's ever seen in his life. Flush and beautiful like something not meant for his long-fingered, ink stained hands. And yet he leans into every touch like he was made for this. Made for Steve.

Any dame in the world could walk by and ask for James Barnes and while he might show her a good time he always came back to their little flat. Tucked in close next to Steve, sweet as pie.

Considering the fact he's not entirely in his right mind, Steve gives him a little grace. Presses their lips together slick and swift like a benediction. "You want more? Apologize."

Because saying 'shouldn't' isn't the same as being sorry- and he knows some small part of Bucky got off on the attention. On winding him up, trying to earn himself a little extra heat. Trying to find trouble and by god has he managed. "And I'll think about your punishment."

Steve's already made up his mind that Buck's earned it, but finding the right line- slap him around a little, maybe? He likes the bruising, the hair pulling, likes being ordered around. Doesn't have to gag him this time, but maybe a blindfold? Not getting to see Steve react to how well he does or doesn't do might work as a nice little cherry.

The effect of the scrap of praise is immediate: Bucky all but melts into the chair, tilting his face up eagerly as Steve leans down, dying for the kiss that doesn't come yet. Bucky's skin has taken on a delicate flush as he holds painfully still, because he's not the one who decides who gets kissed here, or if Bucky deserves it. So it leaves Bucky practically frozen there, all but vibrating out of his skin with the sheer need radiating off him. Something as simple Steve's whisper ghosting against Bucky's lips as him rubbing uselessly at the air, trying to grind off against the fabric of his underwear.

He needs a touch - any touch. The urge for more's been growing with each passing minute. Please, Bucky thinks, I'll do anything.

Bucky whimpers with relief into the kiss, mouth parting to welcome Steve. It feels like a balm against the growing hunger, soothing and yet it has him dying for even more. Bucky has to grip his knees tight so he doesn't grab at Steve's shirt and tear it open. Or drag him in close.

When they part, Bucky's staring at Steve's pinkened lips like he could live off only kisses. "I'm sorry. Really sorry."

It comes off too quick and maybe not as sincere as he should be: mostly because Bucky's saying it only to get more of Steve's touch quicker. He'll take anything Steve dishes out tonight, as long as it results in his hands on him.

This is a step farther than he'd normally risk- actually slapping Bucky. Not half as hard as a pissed off dame. More to startle and shock than to actually mean it, but enough for his displeasure at the insincere apology to be noted. Buck has to mean it. To really, truly mean that he's sorry he let someone else put their hands on him.

Oh Steve will forgive every woman that gets their thrills with James Barnes, that's one thing. But other men?

That's not allowed.

Steve's not quite sure when that became a hard and fast rule in the back of his mind, that he is the only man that gets to touch Bucky like this. See him like this. "Try again."

His voice is a low rasp. Still firm but dry- he hadn't had a chance to finish his whiskey. Maybe he'll have a bottle of something he can afford brought in for the rest of the scene, or at least some water, because Buck sweating like this, grinding up against his fly while looking at him like he's got every answer in the whole wide world is doing a number on him.

"And mean it, this time."

Bucky, in his life, has been slapped a total of once.

He's managed that by being a perfect gentleman to all his dates, so the time he did get slapped was when Dorothy's mother caught them necking in a park when Dorothy claimed she wanted to go see a movie with her girlfriends. Her ma figured Bucky'd been the one to drag her out of it. Seeing the fear in Dorothy's eyes, Bucky had taken one for the team and let her ma believe it. 'Course, the relationship was doomed after that.

Bucky jerks in the chair when Steve's hand cracks against his face, gasping as his head's knocked to the side. Not as hard as Dorothy's mother - she had a real right hook of a slap - but hard enough that it surprises the everliving daylights out of him. Sends the message loud and clear: that apology was bullshit. And Steve's not putting up with it. Do better.

Bucky's cheek and jaw have begun to go red from the blow. The way his skin stings in the aftershocks of the blow and his skin's flushed hot? It has him so damp pressed tight against his briefs that it's just started to stain into his dress slacks.

Closing his eyes, Bucky struggles at first to remember how anything but the not-enough friction against his dick exists. This time he sounds sincere, even if each word is labored. "I'm really sorry. And…and I'll do anything to make it up to you, scout's honor."

Steve's eyes drop from Bucky's face down to the tent in his slacks, and he makes a mental note to think of a reason for him to strip down sooner rather than later. It'll make walking home easier if Buck has mostly clean outerwear. Oh the shorts are going to be a lost cause, he might even play with that, but the pressed fabric of his trousers? Getting pure desperate dripped need out of them takes a lot of time and effort.

Bucky's worth that time and effort, so is his dignity- outside of moments like this.

Power games.

Brief blinding instances of pure carnal desperation.

Leaning in he rumbles against his ear, deep and proper like a man three times his size- "Good boy."

No one expects that voice from him. It's half the appeal. "Apology accepted. Get up and strip down to your shorts. Fold your clothes and put them on the side table. When you're done? Sit down again, hands on your own knees, and behave for me."

It'll be hard, watching him without reaching out to touch- but he's going to do his best to make this good for Buck, like always.

"Fuck," shifting restlessly, Bucky's eyes scrunch shut on a needy thread of a cuss when Steve's voice rumbles into his ear like the devil himself's whispering hot and tempting. He's always liked that about Steve: how his voice goes so much deeper than you'd expect out of a beanpole. Like he's bigger than he looks. What's even better is when Steve gets the steel in his voice that says 'this is how it's going, this is what you're gonna do'.

And saying no to just about anything right now seems like the last thing Bucky wants. If it means he gets more of Steve's approval, he'd do anything he asked tonight.

Bucky's shoulders slump with relief. Because he doesn't have much more to drag out of him for a fancy apology. His dick's running the show here. Practically dragged his brain right down to it. Bucky's eager to obey, though not before he makes a show of it. Steve never did say how he wanted it done. So Bucky gets up, but he manages to drag up some last willpower and take his sweet time with it. One by one, he parts the buttons on his shirt to slowly reveal a body made lean and athetlic from work, each bare inch of skin covered in a feverish sheen of sweat. When he drags off the shirt, it's a long arch of his torso, the kind Steve likes to study best, nipples tawny and hard.

He works himself out of his slacks and skivvies in a graceful, filthy roll of his hips, cock bobbing free desperately hard and flushed as he steps out from the pile, and ass flexing with each step as he neatly folds them and leaves them on the side table. Makes Steve really wait.

Finally, Bucky settles back in the chair, hands resting on his knees, and tilts his face back up at Steve. Like this, Steve looks tall, powerful. Like he could take charge of an entire room and they'd all jump to follow.

Buck, of course, takes his time. Makes a real show of it- why wouldn't he? With nothing but time on their hands, no reason to rush or hide or muffle himself, of course he'd take advantage.

Steve can't even bring himself to be annoyed.

Not with miles of fair skin and lean muscle on display, powerful shoulders, solid thighs, lean hips and belly, the jut of his cock some kind of gorgeous and obscene. All his favorite traits of any model bundled into one bratty, beloved person. Softness here, musculature there, expressive eyes, pouting lips, the fine planes and angles of cheekbone and rib and hip making for dynamic posing and expression.

All honed into filthy want.

All focused on him.

Those eyes are so gorgeous- but Bucky's been acting out. Steve takes his time walking around, circling the chair as he tugs his own tie off. Standing behind Buck it's all the more of a surprise when he blindfolds him. He's already flying on the barest brush of contact, what will happen if he makes what he feels all the more substantial?

If he really digs into what Buck likes, what he's learned, what he's always wanted to have time to learn?

"Remind me-" Soft and gentle by his ear as he knots the blindfold around Bucky's eyes. "Who do you belong to?"

If there's something Steve figured out about Bucky quickly, is that he really likes it when he turns heads down the street. Or enters a room. Even if Bucky's got no intention of going steady with someone, much less make time with them, he also can't help but shamelessly flirt like it comes natural as breathing. Loves it even more when he earns a blush or gets them hot and bothered. So knowing he's got Steve's full attention when he strips down, when he's got plenty of fellas out there who want his hand in their hair?

Makes Bucky feel pretty damn powerful.

Bucky does try to (mostly) behave and hold still though. It's hard to stay put like Steve asked, especially when his dick's angled upwards, flushed and rampant as that tie of Steve's comes off in an audible slither of fabric like a promise of more to come. But he keeps his head forward, tries not to turn it when Steve disappears behind him and settles like a powerful, heady presence.

His breath comes out in a high shiver when Steve's tie comes down across his eyes, plunging his world into darkness. Suddenly he's very aware of the sprawl of his legs on the chair, the throb of his cock, and Steve leaning in to whisper gently against the shell of his ear. Bucky's teeth worry at his lower lip as he swallows hard, turning his head towards Steve. "You. I'm all yours tonight."

Forever, is what Bucky really means, but that seems like it'll give him away too much. Might scare Steve off from what's supposed to be a game of theirs.

"Good boy." Soft and proud, all honey warm approval as a slim hand drags down from the nape of Bucky's neck to the center of his chest, getting a feel for how hard his heart is pounding. He needs off and needs it now from what he can tell- but he hasn't really earned an orgasm as far as he's concerned. Then again...

Extenuating circumstances. It's not like he won't get another, and Buck seems like he's got a hair trigger.

"I'm gonna give you till the count of ten-" He says, hand drifting lower still, down the furrow of his abdomen, curling around the base of his cock. "To come. You don't? You gotta wait till I next feel like you've earned it. Ready?"

Doesn't matter if he is or not, Steve's teeth dig into his throat with a sharp nip, the one warning he's going to get before his voice starts counting a hair too fast and he knows it. So what if he's a real bastard about this, he wants Bucky weeping and ruined. Wants him sobbing for more, for Steve's cock, to be his forever and always.

Even if that is far too much to want, to expect.

"One-" to five and it's lazy pumps with his hand that do fuck all for friction and he knows it, six to eight get a tighter grip, slick little twists of his wrist. Nine and ten get slick swipes of his thumb just under the head of his cock-

And Bucky either come or he doesn't. Regardless- on ten his hand drops away entirely, leaving Bucky aching in the empty air.

"Holy hell", Bucky's jaw goes tight below the blindfold sitting in a dark slash across his eyes. He clenches his legs together, trying to fight the urge to blow a load just from those honeyed words. At Steve's approval practically dripping all over all over his senses. Under Steve's palm, Bucky's heart pounds a little harder than normal, the drug encouraging Bucky to be on the knife's edge on coming and still wanting so much more.

At this point, it kinda feels like a stiff breeze might set him off. How Bucky's holding it together so far is a goddamn miracle.

Bucky's chin droops to his chest as if to follow the feeling of Steve's hand skating down his stomach, a whimper squeezing out of him when he finally, finally touches him. His cock is rock-hard to the touch, eager and glistening with precome as it twitches eagerly in Steve's grip. Bucky shakily nods. He might not even last that long.

It's the fucking teeth at Bucky's throat that starts it, sending such a stab of sudden arousal flaming hot through him at the pain that Bucky yelps, loud enough to echo through the door. Steve manages only two pumps on his dick and Bucky comes apart with a groan: the shaft in his hand throbs and Bucky pushes up greedily as he shakes apart under him. So embarrassingly fast, but Bucky can't even give that much of a damn when he stripes Steve's hand with come, thick seed spurting up to land on his chest and thighs with a feeling of utter relief.

…Only…Bucky squirms under Steve as he continues to pump him through it, feeling this side of oversensitive and a little cheated from blowing it so fast, what if he ruined things?

Except for something keeping his cock hard even after coming.

"Oh God, what the hell…" Bucky mutters, utterly confused and jabbing his cock uselessly upwards at nothing when Steve drops his hand. His hand twitches towards his own cock, because here he'd been worried he'd go soft early, only that's not whats happening at all.

Edited 2025-06-01 04:58 (UTC)

He's gorgeous. Of course he's gorgeous, he's *always* gorgeous like this. Flush and rocking up helplessly, blood blooming under fair skin, tawny nipples pert, cock flushed pink and pretty, twitching as he spills. The noise he makes-

It should be illegal.

Honestly? It probably is. Steve doubts any dame could ever get Bucky off like this. A hummer or a handy, sure, but none of them take him by the hair and tell him how it's gonna go. None of them hold approval over his head like a favorite treat. No one else can reach into Buck's soul and twist him around, leave him doe eyed and so soft in the aftermath it's like a dream.

Just him.

Steve has to bite his lip to keep from rocketing off in his own slacks, long huffed out breath audible. If he's lucky? Buck will read it as a sigh. As Disappointment.

Even if he takes this moment to break in the game and explain a few things. "Fella that had his hands on you dropped somth'n in your drink, Buck. Dunno what but- some guys do that. If they're not good enough to get you like this on their own. They need the help."

Clearly, Steve doesn't. He's got Buck panting and pretty, kneeling sweet as anything at his feet just with a little crook of his finger. And god if that's not the best feeling in the whole world behind being able to breathe without coughing.

"Just means we get to play for a good. Long. While." He punctuates each word with a pinch to the skin of Bucky's inner thighs, to his chest, tweaking his nipples. "And you can be as loud as you want. Everyone knows what's go'n on here. Louder you are, the more they're all gonna be jealous of whatever I'm do'n to you. Did you know-"

Half fib and half truth here, narrow chin tucked on Bucky's shoulder as his hands tease and play at Bucky's chest, smearing all that come into his skin. "There's a list for me? Kinda like a dance card. Dandies and pretty boys that wait till I come in to pick up a job, hope I stick around for a drink. They put their names on that list and wait till I got time for 'em."

Meanwhile Buck's got him for the asking whenever he wants- mostly.

Bucky tries to still under Steve when he sighs like that - like he ruined his day by blowing it in two seconds. Like he's really disappointing him. Panting, his cheeks go hot with humiliation, because that's not usually him. Out of the two of them, Bucky's usually the one to hold it longer, not lose like it's the first time his dick's ever been touched.

"Jesus, I...I didn't even see him do it," Bucky's voice sounds thick, uneven. Never even figured it'd happen to him.

No wonder the guy insisted he finish the drink. Bucky'd feel a lot more betrayed if it still didn't feel like all of his brain cells had migrated towards his cock. Even knowing this doesn't make it any easier to fight the urge to practically jump on the nearest dick. It should scare him; this desperation to fuck, to get pinned down and pounded by anyone who wants it, it doesn't matter who or how many. That he would've let that stranger fuck him tonight. Bucky's so used to watching Steve's back that it never occurred to him to watch his own; comes with being the stronger one, this sense of being invincible.

Maybe later it'll really sink in. Right now all Bucky cares about is getting spread out and taken apart, wants more than anything to feel something sink in deep and leave him wet. It's just so much better if it's Steve than some random Joe

With a brittle moan, Bucky jolts under each sharp pinch, thigh twitching and cock leaking as Steve works his nipples to pebble under the warm light. Red marks bloom in the aftermath, signs that Steve Rogers was there. Bucky lets his head fall back against Steve's narrow shoulder while his chin hooks onto his, curling around him as his chest heaves and come glistens on his skin.

Despite the blindfold, Bucky can't quite hide the jealous grimace. "That where you got so good at this? Tons of practice?"

Oh he can play with that. The quiet possessive curl they've almost always had for one another. Sure not many people wanted to bother with little Stevie Rogers, but Buck had a thought or two for any that actually tried to get to know him beyond 'skinny asthmatic'. Had rules for who was and wasn't allowed close up.

Didn't matter much to Steve, so long as he had Bucky.

"You don't know what to look out for, here. What the glint in a fella's eyes means when he sees you- like look'n at a pretty dame with her skirt too short." And Buck, god, Bucky has to know he's the tastiest dish that ever did wander into this club. Too handsome for his own good. Too pretty to leave unruffled. And yet here he is, naked as anything under Steve's hands.

Skinny little Stevie Rogers, looking down the length of his body at a hungry cock and a hungrier hole, thinking about how much he's got in him to give. One, if he's lucky.

Good thing these rooms come with toys.

Something thick and heavy- Buck likes 'em big, mostly because he likes Steve, who has enough in him for one good round. So he'll need to plan this out careful, lips dragging along Bucky's jaw, murmuring into his skin. "Oh yeah. Got a buncha pretty boys all doe eyed and hungry for me, here. But where am I, Buck? Even when you're being a brat-"

His fingers pinch meanly against the head of Bucky's cock.

The thing is Bucky really hadn't picked up on it. Because whenever he gets checked out on the street or in a dance hall, it's not like that - like they want to tear him apart. And he'd figured he'd accept the free drink - no need to be rude - and flirt a little to smooth the rejection over. He'd come here with Steve. He wasn't about to ditch him, even if he was getting under his skin.

"He could've just asked," Bucky grits out.

Granted, he would've said no anyway, but no way Bucky'd ever stoop so low. It feels like he should go back out there and beat the tar out of that fella. Send a fucking message. Only Bucky's suddenly not sure he'll have the strength to do it; not when it seems like every thought and nerve and inch of him is crying out for sex. He's more likely to fall to his knees and swallow the stranger's cock down than kick the shit out of him right now. Thank God he's got a friend like Steve looking out for him.

Bucky tilts his face, mouth parted as he searches blindly for Steve. His nose bumps up against the curve of his jaw, hips rising as Steve drags his lip along his skin to hump blindly and slowly at the air. Hs sucks a bruise onto the soft skin under Steve's jaw, hard enough that it could leave a mark that's hard to hide tomorrow.

"Sounds like a regular smorgasboard," Bucky tells him, sounding the tiniest bit unhappy. Anything he has to say suddenly turns into a startled shout as the flushed head of his cock is pinched hard, sending a sharp rush of pain and precome blurting out as he jerks under Steve. His hands fly to the armrests, knuckles gripping tight. Bucky sounds strangled when he finally finds his voice. "Yeah, I'm such a charity case. You're a regular Mother Theresa taking me on."

"No- not charity. I'm here cuz I wanna be. Cuz you're too good to pass up. Because when you go all soft eyed and sweet, when you're gagg'n for it- ain't any other pair of eyes I'd rather look into. Another pair of lips I'd kiss. Don't matter how pretty the other dandies are, how hard the other fellas that need putt'n down are, You're the one that's got me." With stormy grey eyes and too plush lips.

With lips softer than a sin and skin too damn soft for all the work he does.

Steve could have a list a mile long but he'd always circle back to here. To Bucky. And his attitude, his need, his careful posturing. "Do you know how good you look when you start float'n?"

When he gets all soft and doe eyed and loose? When he gets so cock drunk and hungry no word can sink through his thick skull aside from 'you may,' or 'not yet'. No one in the whole wide world knows how gorgeous Buck gets when he's desperate- and no one will if Steve ever has a say in it.

One slim fingered hand drifts between his thighs, bypassing his cock to stroke and pet at his hole without a care in the world. "How much you think you can take tonight, huh?"

"Uh," Bucky gasps intelligently; that's all he can get out. Bucky's pinkened lips go breathlessly slack below the blindfold.

Steve's right; he does go all soft and easy under his touch, when Steve finds that balance between a firm hand and praise well-earned. He'd found it that stormy night when Bucky entertained himself by getting on Steve's last nerve. Like everything's so easy as long as he follows Steve's orders; because now Bucky doesn't have to worry about the outside world and all the stress that comes with silently carrying the two of them on his shoulders.

It's so much easier when he can sink into it and let Steve take the wheel.

Steve talking to him like that's just as good as a hand wrapped around his cock and the other squeezing the nape of his neck. Soft and gentle, where he'd toed being cruel earlier, and Bucky just melts under it. His thighs spread wide, arching his hips up to give Steve a better angle as that slender hand dips between them to stroke at his hole, which spasms under his touch as if to try and suck him in already.

Bucky hasn't been prepped, but it's hard to care about that kind of stuff as Steve circles his fingers there, and Bucky rocks his hips as if to fuck back on them. Sink him into tight heat with the bittersweet burn along the edges. His throat bobs, as he tries to sink eagerly down onto Steve's fingers. "All of it." That's what it feels like with that stuff running through his veins. Even though he didn't get a good look at the toys in here, it feels like he's dying for it. "Give it to me, I can take it. Please."

Oil. he needs oil but it is so hard to remember that with how sweet and aching Buck is under his hands. He needs direction but more than that he needs a thick cock driving into him. Reminding him what he has to lose, wha the point of coming to this club was.

Steve had a plan, originally. Get Bucky liquored up a touch and ride that high until he came once. Get him to kneel and beg all desperate.

If they had more time to plan for this outing he mighta asked Buck what he thought about different tools \and toys. Gpot a little feedback before trying to break him but oh. Watching him take a drink from someone else didn't have him wound up.

Watching him calmly accept te hands stroking over him...

That did the trick.

"Good boy." He murmurs into Bucky's ear, already circling around to angle his hips up. Oil on his fingertips, pressing in slowly, surely.

There's no high in the world quite like having Buck bounce on his fingertips like a cock, and god if he doesn't want to try to see that again before he can't perform at all.

Consensual Control

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I'm sorry for Bucky. He thinks he's being clever and Steve won't notice

he's a brat and is gonna get swatted, but he'll enjoy it. ^_^

Steve just brings that out in him. Best use of a power blackout ever

poor Bucky is suffering, and he'll suffer more!

<3

<3 <3

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Aw buck.

He's going to be a good boyfriend okay but his GF's mom might have a future in boxing

lol!

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