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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"Yeah... don't need both of us with a hand on the wheel," Bucky's voice goes softer at the edges. It's like something nice and easy, almost dreamy settles all over Bucky's face and the lines of his shoulders.

It's not like they've sat down and talked this stuff over. He might not survive it if they did. In fact, better they don't. Why ruin a good thing they got going? Besides; Steve's his best guy, and he already seems to know what Bucky needs before Bucky himself figures it out.

Like right now. Bucky doesn't get up, instead eases forward to plaster himself up against one slender leg, wrapping an arm around his ankle like he needs the anchor while he rests his cheek on his thigh and just…kind of sinks into the caresses Steve allows him. His tongue and jaw still smart, but the gentle touches are a balm to the pain that Bucky nuzzles into with a relieved sigh. Steve's not completely sore with him.

Just not enough to spoil him before he's earned it. Bucky goes with the urging, teeth grit on as the toy ends up jostled when he stretches himself in a graceful line across Steve's legs. He has to brace himself with his arms and knees too - Steve's slender all over, and the last thing Bucky wants to do is crush him or something while Steve's setting him straight, hard cock brushing against Steve. Bucky's ass curves up like an offering, the other man's hand bruise practically taunting him.

Buck has so much he has to carry when they're back home in the real world. Bills and rent and paying for their food, tagging in on laundry when Steve's too ill to handle it, keeping what fixtures that do function in their apartment from falling apart. If like this he can take some of that weight from him, Steve will. If there's every any way to make things easier, he'll do it.

Never expected something half so sinful, half so fun, and half so rough to be what Bucky needs.

little scraps of softness between the stings and it's easy to hold his temper as Buck nuzzles him like this is all he could ever want in the world, painfully hard dick or no. Graceful even when he climbs up, all lean limbs and trim waist, slim hips and a sinfully plush ass. It's a problem.

So's the mark on him that Steve didn't put there.

A growl he can't suppress roils in his stomach, one lean hand slipping up to cover that mark, glare evil dark. "If there weren't rules against fight'n I'da laid him out for this."

As it is? He'll settle for making sure Buck's steady before he starts swinging. Now there's no warning, no holding back, and it's not like he can actually hurt Bucky even if he tries- but he swings with everything his little twig arms can manage, hoping it gets Buck to squirm all pretty and indecent.

Bucky's dick twitches where it's pressed against Steve, Steve's throaty growl working its way down every nerve. Bucky should feel more bad about it than he is that the fella laid it on him. Probably will later tonight. But now there's a tiny part of Bucky that's secretly glad the jackass did, because Steve glowers down at it like it's personally offensive. Turns out Bucky got Steve green after all, even if he hadn't meant for it to go so far.

"Mmmm, if I can't stop you from street brawling, the hell's a couple rules gonna do?" Bucky murmurs, low and eager.

He shouldn't like Steve raring for a fight this much. Most of the time he doesn't, because Steve's gonna get himself killed. But it's different right now, knowing it's because Steve's feeling like someone crossed into his backyard. Gets all territorial and extra bossy. (Although he hopes Steve doesn't actually do it. For one, the guy would paste him across the floor)

THAWCK! Steve's hand suddenly descends on one cheek so suddenly and so hard that Bucky's shouts echo in the room. There's no way the door muffles it all, but it doesn't matter at the flash of pain that Bucky squirms away from, grinding against Steve's leg. Another rains down on the other cheek, right over the bruise the guy left behind, and Bucky nearly chokes on the yelp.

Bucky gasps, can barely pant out. "Fuck, Steve! You take up boxing behind my back? Holy hell!"

"I get banned, I don't get more jobs. Don't get paid good money to come here and draw their performers. Don't get free nights in one of their rooms or tickets for drinks." There are benefits to behaving here, specifically, that outweigh his anger.

For once.

No other club seems to be run half as nice, have such good booze for cheap, interesting performers, or so many dandies that actually like Steve. It's strange. Normally it's safer, too, but he'll talk to the owner after he's worked the rest of this out of Bucky.

He feels pretty good about how hard he's swing'n until Bucky starts to really bitch and moan about it and he stops, staring down at the red mark blooming over that other man's bruise squeezed into Bucky's ass. It's not like either of them have desk jobs, but he doesn't- pain's one thing. He doesn't wanna actually HURT Buck. "Too much?"

It's not the confident sneer he usually puts on- his fingers rest feather light against the small of Bucky's back, game put on pause until he's sure this is good. He's never tried play'n quite this rough with Bucky before and knowing the line is good. He can work with boundaries- but there's worry under everything.

Bucky's bracing himself for the next one, only it never comes. Why'd you stop?

He cracks an eye open that he doesn't remember closing, only to remember it doesn't matter because he's got Steve's tie blocking everything out. Even though Steve's palm is spread so gently he can barely tell it's there, Bucky still hones in on it sitting at the small of his back, while his cheeks already throb from the smacks. Just two. Out of a full ten. And he'd take more if that's what Steve decided he earned, even if it kills him. Plus Steve basically challenged him to it.

And Bucky's not about to tap out first.

Shaking his head, Bucky fidgets uselessly on Steve's lap. His laugh has a cracked note to it. "So you do know when to pick your fights. You just chose not to out there."

Bucky reaches behind him, patting around until he comes upon Steve's slim wrist. Silently, Bucky guides him back to press his hand not only against the mark the guy left on him, but he presses it down hard, making it hurt. He's good. You're good. More, please.

A faint huff twists out of Steve at Bucky crack'n wise. They're okay. He didn't brake whatever this thing they're building moment to moment is, the subtle reassurance is more than enough to have him squeeze the bruising on Buck's ass. Okay.

They're good. He wants more. He'll get it.

"Good boy." Soft and achingly fond for a moment. Tipping his cards from his chest more than a little that Buck read that worry and reacted without losing momentum. Anyone would be lucky to have him- but he's Steve's. There's a moment to breathe and he leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss to the small of Bucky's back, reward and affection both.

Time to get back to it.

Nails dig in, scraping across sensitive skin, dragging into the bruise before he hauls back and swings- two more, just as hard, rocking Buck's cock against his thigh. "That's four."

His ass flexes under the fingers clenching into tender skin, Bucky pushing his hip silently up into Steve's pam just to feel the pressure. It's not that he doesn't like the soft stuff. It's just that it feels so much better on the tail end of being put through his paces, like putting fancy spice on a hearty roast. He's good, Steve. Really good.

Bucky sinks back down onto his lap with a soft hum when Steve brushes a kiss along the base of his spine, looking as pleased as any old alley cat in the perfect patch of sun. The perfect lull right before…

He arches under him as nails drag across skin gone a little tender, Bucky inhaling sharply through his teeth as Steve digs them into the bruise in five points of blunt pain until - Bucky jerks as Steve's palm comes down hard and mean as before, with an audible crack that nearly drowns out the cry ripped out of him as fresh pain blossoms all over his cheeks, which quiver a little in the aftermath as his muscles tense and relax.

"Unngh, holy god," Gritting his teeth, Bucky has to brace himself with a hand on Steve's thigh, fingers spasming on his slacks as he can't help but rock forwards to chase the friction against his dick. Four. Out of ten. Christ.

"Not cry'n uncle yet, are you?" All that whining, the twitching, the yelling as every time he's swatted but good- and he holds out. "Didn't think so."

And there's so much warmth and pride in his voice for that. A little of that hungry heat, that he wants more of this, that he can take this much and still be so goddamn hard. So goddamn pretty. It's distracting. "Look at how pink you get, Buck- oh. Wait."

Steve's laugh is just on this side of cruel. Blindfolded Bucky has no idea the ruin he looks, the mess he's become. At the end maybe he'll let Buck see what he's done but for now it's just the warm dark and the sharp crack of his hand. He doesn't stop after two the next time, gives him a solid three spanks, watching his ass quiver and jiggle, knowing damn well how it'll make the toy on him jolt.

How it's gotta grind against everything good on the inside with every blow.

"Over halfway through. Think you learned your lesson?"

"No, sir," Bucky blurts out. Doesn't even know where that comes from either. But no way in hell is he tapping out.

This time he hears the shift of fabric as Steve swings his arm up, and this time he braces himself. The breath gets knocked out of him when Steve's palm cracks against him, forcing his cock to rub against him and smear a damp streak against the fabric of Steve's pants. His ass, if Bucky could turn back and see it, is starting to flush a pretty pink. Even working it's way up to cherry red with each blow.

Steve's laugh ripples hot like someone wave a candle close to his skin. Bucky's eyebrows come together, mouth pressed into a thin line that's a little uncertain, a little suspicious, because what the hell's Steve plotting now? It smooths out on the next as the next blow lands, and Bucky takes it like a champ, head hanging and dark hair drifting across his temple, with Steve's skinny legs digging into his front.

On the last one hit, though, Steve's fingertips just barely tag the toy's plug. Pushes it harder into him and jostles it. The effect is instant: Bucky spasms under him with a splintered moan, shaking under Steve as the pleasure-pain flare so fierce that his cock fucking throbs and his balls ache, his dick drooling on Steve's leg.. Everything gets tight, so close, so dangerously close.

"Steve, I'm gonna...I'm close, real close," Bucky's grip goes bruisingly tight on Steve's thigh with the effort it's taking to try and hold himself back as he tries to warn him. "I'm tryin' to learn, but I'm close."

Edited (typoed) 2025-06-03 04:07 (UTC)

Oh.

Oh. that twists something sharp edged and hot in Steve's chest. Other boys whine and plead and pant but he's never told them to call him sir before. Never thought of it, never wanted it. But just once tripping off of Bucky's lips and he has to swallow down all sorts of filth he thinks might get it back.

"You sorry yet? Remember Buck- I gotta believe it. Think you can say you're sorry well enough I'll let that happen?" He's trying, and it hurts, that grip on his thigh, enough that he can feel the bruise bone deep already. Makes him hiss and snarl, makes his nails dig in deeper against the reddening skin of Bucky's ass.

That's gonna be a mark he'll have to work around later, hell, it might take a soak for him to not end up black and blue. "Either we keep on just like this- or I take the toy out. Finish you up that way."

Three more swats and then he'll probably let Bucky grind himself off on his thigh, some part of him that can't help but want to spoil him stupid thinks he's earned it. The rest, god, the rest wants to keep mark'n him up. Make him beg like a dog for the barest shred of his attention.

Bucky's trembling under Steve's fingers dig into the meat of his ass, precome seeping into Steve's pants to plaster it against his skin. He's so close he can practically taste it. He's so close that Steve's saying…something, and at first it sounds far away, happening to someone else, because the throb in Bucky's cock and the rasp of fabric against the red shaft practically echoes in his head. The heady lust's clouding his head again, makes him feel stupid; like what Steve's saying is a foreign language.

"I'm sorry, so goddamn sorry," Bucky practically wheezes as the next swat rains down on him, followed by another. Another near the toy, another aimed hard at the hand print. He really does want to make it up to Steve, he's really trying here. "Told you I'd make it up to you, I-"

Bucky's face twists in agonized concentration under the blindfold. He can't even figure out which he wants on the choice Steve's offering him. He's hot all over. Can't think of anything else but the toy shifting inside him, or the sheer heat radiating after each blow. Steve's asking him something. He'll expect an answer, so what's it gonna be?

Bucky never gets to make the choice. He can't hold back on the next swat, can't control it any longer. Instead he thrashes over Steve's lap as everything suddenly snaps, and he comes hard pinned against Steve's leg, smearing splashes of come between him and Steve's thigh. Some of it even arcing up to dot Steve's fly as Bucky shakes apart with a wrecked moan.

Can't think, can barely speak, all he's good for right now is rutting and coming, rocking against the toy that's caught up tight in his body. Holding him open, grinding against his prostate, snug as anything as it forces him into another orgasm.

"Goddamn it Buck-" It takes so much effort to sound disappointed rather than panting hard. If he's lucky Buck won't feel how he's full hard and twitching against his own fly from how gorgeous he is, how loud he's crying out. Even the faint pressure of come staining his slacks feels searing in the aftermath. This is part of why Bucky's got a blindfold. He can keep his face stern or his voice even when Bucky's all twisted up like this- but not both.

Steve's eyes are blown dark and glassy, lips bit red to avoid groaning, to help swallow back every whimper wanting to crawl outta him just from watching.

Anyone would shoot off if they had James Barnes spread across their lap like this, singing like a call girl, painting them bitter white. Only thing saving Steve is his bum body. "If you can't control yourself, you don't get to keep this-"

His hand skims against Buck's hole, gripping and twisting, removing the toy in one long, slick pull. "Making a mess- I was gonna let you come. You were doing so well."

And now all he's done is disappoint Steve.

Why'd I screw the pooch?, Bucky can barely manage as Steve cusses above him. So much for proving to Steve he could listen. He really did try to hold it back. It just wasn't good enough. With the arousal running so hot and fierce through him, he'd have had better luck catching a lightning bolt.

The hard throb of heat near his hip says plenty about what Steve's feeling about all this, even if it sounds like Steve couldn't be more disappointed in Bucky coming all over them both as suddenly as a frayed cable snapping. Bucky twitches on Steve's lap as the aftershocks wreak havoc through him - somehow this one's worse than the first two, because it feels like he got a second wind back thanks to the breather. And that's all the drug needed to get him burning again, balls heavy with seed.

It feels like he should've just emptied it out between them. But now Bucky's not so sure.

The sound that gets dragged out of Bucky when Steve works the toy out of him sounds a little wild, a little tortured, because it's enough to drag another stream of come out of him. Bucky shakes under him, grip going weak on Steve's thigh as his hole spasms, as if aching for something to stuff him full after all this time.

He's a limp mess besides the erection that's not going away. Bucky's head hangs; feels like he doesn't have the strength to keep it up, and now he forgets to hold himself up properly. He's starting to sag all over Steve, his full weight all over his lap, his poor, throbbing dick still hard. "I was trying, Steve, I didn't mean to."

Edited 2025-06-03 04:43 (UTC)

"Couldn't help it, right?" There's a muffled thud as he tosses the toy to one side, trying to nudge Bucky back off his lap and onto the floor- but he's exhausted and heavy and Steve's not that strong despite the power he was able to put into each spank. His palms are stinging red, knuckles feel sore, but it's worth it. "Just means we gotta long night of work ahead of us."

Especially since Bucky's still hard. Cripes. That has to be painful but he's still shooting off so much, still so hot, still so needy. What did that fella give him?

He can worry or he can fix it and Steve is determined to fix it. Didn't he promise to take care of Bucky, help him through this?

No way he's gonna go back on that when Buck still needs so much, so badly. What works best? Mean then sweet. Sweet then mean. Let him earn his affection, so he's gotta be mean, again. More like he gets to be mean, act a big man, take him to task for every little moment of bratty acting out. He plants a hand on Bucky's shoulder and shoves him off his lap, but not off the sofa. Scoots to give himself room from the heat radiating off his best friend, from the scent of sweat and sex and musky need.

Tangling a hand in his hair he tugs Bucky's face down against his thigh, his lap, everywhere his needy cock dripped over his good slacks- "Clean up your mess."

Let Buck feel everything he's not getting yet because he fucked up.

Maybe he'll feel bad about crushing Steve whenever the drug wears off and Bucky can afford two braincells.

But right now, Bucky's as useful as a lump. Doesn't even help Steve out when he tries to nudge him off. He can't lift a finger at first; somehow this third orgasm was stronger and worse than the first two, as if someone had just dragged his brainpower right through his cock and left him with not a damn thing. He barely starts when the toy lands in some corner, heart pounding and breathing hard as it feels like he just got put through the wringer.

A tiny shudder works through Bucky head to toe when Steve's voice drifts over him. Oh Jesus. It's already feeling long. Like a gym trainer putting you through your paces and then pushing you past it. Bucky can't remember ever having come this hard in his life. And he doesn't know how much more he can give or how long the drug'll be in his system.

Bucky's shoved off Steve's lap, into an ungainly sprawl with none of the normal grace had. He ends up half on his side, lips rosy and tender from where his teeth sunk into him. But he's gotta show Steve he can follow through with his promises.

With a groan, Bucky obeys. He presses his face into Steve's thigh, mouthing against the hot, salty liquid he finds ruining his pants, making a shocked sound as the tang of his own come hits his own tongue for the first time. It'd be easier if he could see - find out where he tagged Steve. So he has to nose and nuzzle against him, finding each streak by trial and error. He laps it clean, leaving Steve even wetter, following a trail all the way up to his fly, where Bucky sucks obediently at a large smear of it pressed over his zipper.

Edited 2025-06-03 05:07 (UTC)

At first he doesn't help at all, hand hanging in Bucky's hair, letting him work by taste and random chance, just watching. It's not on purpose. He simply can't think straight with how Bucky's got his face pressed so close to his cock, hard and hungry and he can't remember the last time he was this hard. Can't think of what else he could do that might help him work this mess out of his bloodstream.

Once he can think at all he gives little nudges. Guiding Buck just a little so he doesn't make a complete soaking mess of his slacks, even if the slow grind of cheek and jaw against him is it's own blissful agony.

"There we go. Ain't it better when you don't gotta think?" He murmurs, all gentle again. Pets at Bucky's hair, runs his fingers down his jaw, rubs the slick shine of Bucky's come into his own lips, onto his tongue. "Noth'n to worry about but be'n good for me. And you've been try'n, I know you have. I know you have."

Steve leans in real close, pressing his lips to Bucky's forehead, humming quietly against the feverish skin. Hot but not as bad as could be. Not in danger, he doesn't think. But he's still so hard, his balls still so heavy. How many more times is this drug gonna make Buck spill all over them both? "You gonna be real sweet for me now, Buck? You tired of act'n out? Just nod, you don't gotta say anything."

He's honestly not sure if Bucky could.

In the aftermath of his third orgasm, Bucky's drifting in a world where he doesn't have the space to worry about bills or rent or a thousand other things he's gotta get done once they get back home. All that exists is Steve under him, his hand in his hair, the task he gave him, and the insistent throb of his cock angled up towards his stomach.

Bucky's mouth falls open under the way Steve's voice gentles - at first he registers only the soft, sweet tone - then the actual meaning comes second. It washes over him like honey, like top shelf whisky going real smooth down your throat, like silk against your skin. He doesn't even think about it; on reflex, Bucky just nuzzles against Steve's questing fingers, dragging a wet smear across his jaw, before he welcomes the salty press against his tongue. He sucks on those fingers, makes sure to get them extra clean for Steve, before Bucky reluctantly lets them slip free so he can bury his face back into Steve's lap.

He inhales, taking in the scent of sex and the musk of Steve's arousal, panting as soft - so soft- lips press a kiss to his temple.

"Mmgg–ah-huh," Bucky nods helplessly. He can't even manage a real sentence, so it's just a muffled off 'uh-huh' buried in Steve's lap, as he drags a long, wet stripe from the top of Steve's fly down to the very bottom, nosing at where he imagines the press of his balls would be. He'll be so good for you.

Edited (oop forgot to add the nod in, there we go) 2025-06-03 05:37 (UTC)

Other boys got like this sometimes- took some doing but oh, when they fly? It's something else. Buck's gotten close in the past but they didn't have the time or Steve was too beat from the exhaustion of living to manage. "Good boy."

So soft, so proud. All higher thought is gone and Buck is well and truly cock drunk, all dewy eyed and quietly desperate. It's the stuff wet dreams are made of. "Got me all nice and clean, act'n so sweet...It's easier when you let me do all the think'n, Baby."

That's a step further than normal. Steve cages orders or complaints or compliments with Bucky's name, with 'boy', with an edge of impersonal distance to keep from wanting something he can't really have. Dangerous to indulge too deep in the fantasy. The idea that he could keep something this good and sweet for himself. People would talk if Buck stopped taking girls out, and Steve couldn't' ask that of him. Buck's got a future but maybe...

Maybe just for tonight while he's wound up and needy, he can pretend. One hand slips down to open up his belt, the fingers in Bucky's hair combing it back from his face so he can see the pinch of his brows and how pink his lips are when pressed to his fly. Each button comes undone, cock heavy and hot and damp as he pulls it from his shorts, lets Bucky feel it. "You want this, yeah? You've earned it. Much as you want."

Bucky rumbles something low and pleased. At least he can do right by Steve here, get him cleaned like this. Shame about his slacks - those were one of Steve's good pairs. Now he's been made filthy, so filthy, and Bucky can't get enough.

But it's so much easier to just focus on this. He whimpers against Steve's fly at the nickname; soft and sweet like Bucky was Steve's girl tonight, like they could actually go steady. For tonight, he's Steve's any which way.

Bucky's only got the strength to ease back and rest his cheek on Steve's thigh when he senses his fingers going to the belt. Barely enough to give Steve space to work, but looking at Bucky's face, it's almost a Pavlovian response to the jingle of the belt being worked open, the way Bucky has to swallow as his mouth waters already at the thought of Steve dragging his dick out for him. They found out that stormy night, when Bucky had first clumsily sucked him down, that he's got something of an oral fixation combined with raw talent and eagerness.

Pink lips part next to the rosy shaft sitting thick and warm near him. His nostrils flare, inhaling the heavy scent of Steve so close. He can barely wait. Just waits long enough to get permission.

Then Bucky's leaning forward to nuzzle against his shaft, blindingly rubbing against it as it nudges against his lips, against his cheek and teasing at the bottom of the blindfold. Tilting his face, he once again buries it between Steve's legs, mouthing wetly at the silken sacs hanging underneath, paying them such singular attention like he's got all the time in the world to service him.

It's such a soft little sound Buck makes. Not a bad one but something...wanting, maybe. Part of him could sink into this and that's enough of a sign for Steve to keep on. Coo a little at how much Buck's curled and slumped, exhausted by his own body but still trying so, so hard to do right by Steve. It's a beautiful thing. No swagger, no clothes, no devil may care smirk. No girl ever gets to see this side of James Barnes. They don't get to see when he's a mean cuss of a grump in the mornings before coffee either but eventually one of them might. He'll get married and have a whole life and Steve'll help watch the kids till he croaks.

But no one will ever break him open quite like this.

Get him soft and sweet and all dopey, nuzzling into skin like it's the best thing in the world, dragging his lips blindly for even the smallest taste of salt and come. Fabric drags and shifts as Steve pulls a pillow over and lies back against the arm of the sofa, one leg bent and tipped against the back, the other thigh shifting, lifting to hook over Bucky's shoulder. Hold him in place as he licks and nuzzles and "Oh goddamn, baby, the mouth on you-"

All warm, wanton appreciation. No more scorn, no more heat. Buck's behaving and every drag of his lips, every soft puff of hot breath against his skin has Steve shuddering. His heart's thudding away in his chest but it's steady. Long as he keeps breathing slow and even everything will be fine- and if not, he's got a pack of his cigarettes in his coat pocket.

He can lay back and enjoy this. Keep pett'n Bucky's hair and murmur naked appreciation, hips rolling up sweet as a dream, rocking into the hot, wet press of bitten pink lips. "Gonna eat me right up, huh? Make me lose my mind, paint your face up with my come?"

Bucky goes with Steve, follows as much as he can, now lying flat on his stomach with his dick pinned between him and the cushions, gently humping against the fabric when Steve pins him in with one lean thigh. He grinds a little too hard at first in response, because Steve's holding him in place, he's not done with him. If he's lucky, Steve'll never get bored of him.

He slips both arms under Steve and hooks his arms along Steve's thighs to help hold him up, tilting his head down so he can suck one sac then the other into his mouth, gently rolling them along his tongue one after another, before dragging a glistening trail up from root to stop as if trying to follow the vein underneath like a map.

"God, I wish," Bucky's voice sounds far away as Steve's fingers card through his hair, shuddering with interest. To be marked like a piece of artwork just for Steve's private viewing. But he's feeling empty, he's been dying for something bigger than the toy. "Promised you'd rail me."

It's not helped when Bucky ducks his head down. He doesn't plunge down on Steve's dick. Instead he gently slides him between his lips slowly, against a slick tongue rising up to greet him. Bucky takes him in agonizingly slow, letting his head rest against Steve's thigh as he just… holds like that a quietly needy sound. Bucky lets him rest his mouth, as if to just warm his cock. As if maybe Steve had been sketching with Bucky's head resting on his lap, but then gave in to the mood of just having his cock resting in something hot and wet while he worked away. And Steve could get sucked in to a drawing for hours, but he'd like it a lot better if he could rest somewhere slick and hot, maybe gently rocking now and then while Bucky loses himself on the sensation of his mouth being filled. Ah, Christ. Bucky grinds a little harder at the sofa at the thought, liking the thought of Steve casually using him more than anyone should.

Seems like it's Steve's turn now to lie back and shudder, control given up in lieu of letting Bucky happen to him. His devotion, his focus, his slow exploration. Like he can learn every last inch of Steve and still not be satisfied. Better than whiskey, this, stronger than moonshine and Steve's breath catches hot in his chest, heart hammering in his ears with how good every last little drag against his sack and cock feels. Light pops behind his eyes and that could be nerves or it could be a blooming migraine from how tense he's been holding himself to keep alert. To pay attention and do right by Buck while he's doped up like this.

But now he can melt. Let the cushions take his weight.

Let Bucky hold him in place as he laps him up like a cat with cream. His hips cant, aching for another drag of his tongue, another slow suck when things seem to settle.

"You still want that, huh? Gimme a minute." Because if he tries right now he'll shoot of before he gets inside, and that's if his heart doesn't give out, his lungs don't seize up. Now he needs the breather. Something to counteract the noise of his body being unable to quite cash the check his mouth's writing, his breathing ragged and rasped until he eases down, filling Buck's mouth. And he's held there.

No urgency, no demanding, and when he looks down Bucky seems perfectly content to remain there. Wanting and hungry, obvious with how his hips hump against the mattress, but this is enough. Makes it easier on Steve for his heart to slow down a little, his breathing to become less pitched. His hands are gentle, smoothing through Buck's hair, petting his face, his jaw. Marveling at how goddamn beautiful he is always, but especially right now.

"Next time the power goes out you should do this." Steve's tongue feels thick and his voice is dreamy, lilting a little. "Keep me from los'n my temper at the world."

Now that Bucky's thought it, he's really caught on this image. Of Steve just making use of him just 'cause.

He can't answer Steve; not without pulling off his dick. Which he's not ready for. Bucky only makes the faintest little hum of ascent. Would've shut Bucky up before he pissed him off further for kicks, and it would've cooled Steve down. Two birds with one stone. Bucky nudges him in deeper, his mouth so wet that a little leaks out from the corner of his lips.

Or maybe Steve had a long day at work or some guy had given him a hard time. So he'd come home upset, but not so upset that he couldn't sprawl out on the kitchen with dinner in front of him, legs spread and with Bucky knelt between them, cradling his cock in his mouth until he felt good and ready and done. Or Steve could be repairing Bucky's shirt just because he's always on his case about that ripped seam, but not before he'd dragged Bucky's head into his lap and slid his cock in just to keep himself nice, cozy and warm until he was damn well done fixing the seam.

A shaky sound of desire caresses against the cock on his tongue. Bucky's lips are shiny pink and swollen, clasped around the thick length, as he works his head slowly. Just a tiny there and back bob. Nothing fancy, no swallowing him whole like Bucky's wanted to try sometime. He just rests there, gently suckling with a tiny wet sound at the flushed shaft as he traces aimlessly patterns on Steve's hips. How long could he keep Steve's cock resting in his mouth? When the power goes out, would Steve eventually get impatient and finally drag him over, or would Bucky have to pull back, jaw aching?

"You're imagining it, aren't you?" Buck can't answer and Steve, well. Steve can't think of a reason not to talk. Let fantasies and desire spool out into the heavy air between them, eyes slid shut so he can better feel the supportive curl of Bucky's tongue, the faint suction. The little bobs of his head not trying for anything, just the faintest bit of movement.

It's perfect. "Wouldn't even need to wait till I was hard. Just settle down polite as you please so I could finish balancing the checkbook, or work'n on my next eight pager."

His thumb swipes idly against Bucky's cheek. No attempt to guide him, to hold him in place. Letting him take as much as he can stand while the world spins on outside this room. "Let me get heavy and thick in your mouth while I darn your socks, maybe. Takes awhile to get go'n but you never mind, do you? Cuz you know I'll make it good for you; just like you're mak'n it good for me, Buck. You're mak'n it-"

Usually letting Bucky know he's effected by him at all is a dangerous thing. Gives him a big head, makes him swagger and smirk all the more. But he can't smirk right now. Doesn't seem like he's got a mind to swagger neither. So he lets his next breath come out slick and shaky, hand in his hair trembling. "You're mak'n it...so...so good for me, baby."

Bucky manages a tiny nod, trying not to jostle Steve's cock too much; hell yes, he's imagining it. But Bucky's very careful to keep the movement very slow, so very small, so he doesn't get Steve blowing his rocks. Any other time he'd be fine with him coming down his throat. But not today. Not after Steve teased him with the toy in his ass keeping him open for something larger, like a placeholder for something better.

A brittle sound vibrates against Steve's cock as Bucky shudders hard at the thought; at Steve just pushing his soft cock in and letting it rest there until it slowly fills out in his mouth while he worked like nothing's different. Oh God, Bucky's cuss rumbles around Steve's cock, eyebrows drawing in as he just…pictures it. Maybe falls into the scene Steve's painting. Turns out he's not just an artist with pencils and charcoal. The guy could probably make it rich by just running his filthy mouth. People would pay for it, he knows it.

Or even if Steve was driving Bucky's family's car to some lake, Bucky's head in his lap and his cock resting on his tongue as the road rumbled under them. (Okay, Steve can't drive, but Bucky's ignoring that right now).

Bucky's hips roll against the couch, the leather creaking as he ruts aimlessly. He's damp - always feels so damp after the drug hit him like a truck, now he's leaving shiny streaks with each rock. Steve's already hot and thick inside his mouth, but he really does want to try this sometime. To have Steve's body warm up like this, coaxed by the wet heat. Bucky gently sucks on him as if to nurse him with a filthy slick sound, loving the way Steve's voice goes rough and the way a nice tremor finally goes through those hands.

Consensual Control

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