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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"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.

"Easy-" Any other time it'd be chiding, a reminder to behave but this is- punched out and faintly breathless. The steady warmth is doing it for him, that's without question, but it's Bucky being so. Damn. Sweet.

Curled up against him placid as a kitten, content to hold him in with his lips and tongue, sucking like he can drink something down to cure what's in his veins. It's filthy and impossibly tender at the same time- looks like they're both learning something tonight. Never done this with the other boys, never really wanted to, never thought about it but Buck takes to it so well...

Should be illegal, how he looks with his lips stretched around his cock. The way his cheeks hollow out with every subtle suck. He's good and hard and ready now, can manage to give Buck what he wants without shooting off early or spraining anything. Now it's a matter of finding out how to take him. "You want it deep or rough, baby? Deep I can last longer. Rough-"

And he does tug a little, trying to pull Bucky off so he can get some kind of answer. "Rough I can do, but it'll be quick. And You've been so goddamn good for me, wanna give you exactly what you want."

Steve's voice drags him back; not dark and firm, but breathy and so pretty sounding. It's not enough to completely drag Bucky out of the hazy pleasure and the thick cock nestled hot in his mouth, but it is enough to anchor him. Remind him of where they are. And that Steve's rock-hard against his tongue, as ready to go as he'll ever get. And if Steve's only got one load in him, Bucky intends on making it really count.

Bucky lets himself get eased off, but it's clearly reluctant - mouth clasped tight along him and tongue pressed up as he's dragged off like he can't bear not to get one last taste of Steve for the road. His eyes flutter closed as he steals one last lick on the slit, stealing the first clear salty bead welling up and letting it break over his lower lip like a glossy balm.

He hasn't stopped rutting against the cushion. Honestly, it feels like he's on automatic, some part of him taken with some animal instinct that just won't stop. Bucky's teeth sink in hard into his lower lip as he has to try and figure out what he wants. He likes them both. And sometimes (he'll never admit this out loud to Steve), he wishes Steve could really manage to pound him into the mattress, long past Bucky can take. But that's a pipe-dream. He's not willing to risk Steve's health.

Bucky brushes his lips at the soft skin above Steve's fly, spreading his hands on the fabric just to feel his fly open like an early Christmas gift.

"I want it deep for most of it. Like you're trying to brand every inch inside me. Rough at the end if you can swing it?" Bucky's voice sounds hoarse from having Steve's dick nearly settled down his throat; used and raspy.

Edited 2025-06-03 07:26 (UTC)

How's he supposed to breathe through how sweet Bucky's being, how needy- how much he wants this, Steve's not sure. There are a lot of reasons he wishes his health was better but being able to go more than once, to pin Bucky down by more than the weight of his voice and his irritation, to really be able to fuck him without having to consider what all he needs to do for the rest of the week does make up a considerable portion of the list.

"Greedy." Unlike the earlier sniping, this is chuffed around a laugh that's dragged up from the pit of his gut, all warm, wanting affection. Like it's some kind of adorable.

But if that's what Bucky wants it's what he'll get, soon as Steve can think of how he can prop himself up to give it to him. If he were thicker, had more muscle, he could just drag Bucky up to sit in his lap; but scrawny as he is that'll just pinch a nerve in his thigh and put his legs to sleep. Can't line up right to rut against his back from behind like other fellas tend to due to the height difference. "Roll over onto your back. Wanna watch your face when I fuck you."

He'll have to drag a pillow over and move Buck's long legs this way and that to get him laid out just right for them to both get what they want outta this, but he's gonna do it. Make it good, keep it slow and deep and mark him up just how he wants because when it comes down to the wire...

Steve can't tell Bucky no.

The day Buck figures that out he's well and truly cooked.

The pants stay on- something about him half dressed winds Buck up but good and he needs every advantage he can swing. Pulls himself upright, slides a cushion under Bucky's hips, drags one of those legs up and around his hips as he lines up. "You ready?"

"Mmm, just smart about it," comes Bucky's dreamy reply. He grinds one more time, compulsively, leaving one more streak of precome, before he can obey. He turns and rolls onto his back: his cock bobs obscenely, painfully hard looking and rosy as he settles. Now the glistening smear he'd left behind sits right below his cheeks, looking almost like he's a dame Steve had been working over under a skirt, and goes where Steve arranges legs, working his hips up to make room for the pillow.

The welts and scratches stick out bright and red on Bucky's skin, nipples pebbled and hard as Bucky tries to be patient, head cocked as he listens for what Steve's doing. It's a loss to be away from him, even for a second

Bucky lets out a gut punched sound when he feels around for Steve's hip only to find he'd left his slacks on, cock twitching. His slacks are hopelessly filthy, but hell, if Bucky doesn't love the idea of Steve having it so bad that he can't be bothered to get his clothes all the way off. Like they could do this dirty on a lunch break or something, or right before running on errand; Steve just opening his fly and pushing right in quick with Bucky against the wall next to the door.

Even though he can't see, Bucky's chin rests against his chest as if to watch - or try to - while his heel digs into Steve's lower back. The toy's left him stretched out and aching for more, and Bucky rolls his hips up to rub his hole against the blunt head, still slick with his saliva in a tease.

"Been dying for it since I saw you dressed sharp," Bucky rasps out. Turns out Bucky Barnes is easy like that; it's when Steve tries to get himself pulled together nice that only makes Bucky want to make a royal mess of him. "Could've taken you apart before you left the front door."

Gotta take his time with this, hard as they both are. Wants to make it last, even if he thinks he can probably nail Buck through at least another one. Lets his fingers trip and trail over every bruise, every scrape, teasing his nipples, pressing hard into the dug in marks he left earlier. A beautiful ruin.

If he could afford to he'd paint Buck like this, keep it in their bedroom.

"Wouldn't have let you." Steve hisses, hips hitching instinctively forward but- slow. Slow and deep, mak'n it last. That toy he pushed into Bucky isn't as thick as he is, but it also didn't give the way his cock will. Like their bodies gotta mold themselves to one another. It's work that's worth doing for how well they fit when he finally gets his hips pressed to the curve of Bucky's ass, breathing slow and deep and even. Body on fire, sweat darkening his hair, his undershirt.

Just like that first time in the unbearable sticky heat of their powerless apartment. Lightening and streetlights their only way of seeing each other. Buck all silvered and slick and dying for it, Steve fearless and stupid, taking an impossible risk because he was too irritated to think straight. Even Bucky couldn't bitch about the extra money but he hadn't expected what came after.

How it twists into something so good.

"Been planning tonight for weeks, Baby. Since the last round of sketches. Knew I'd get a key if I finished that job early." Then it was a matter of waiting for his body to get with the program. For their schedules to line up just right. Neither of them need to get up early tomorrow and Steve doesn't need to do any physical work for at least two days.

Laundry's all done. Food's all cooked and easy to reheat. He'll need that time to recover but it's worth it. Bucky's worth all that care and planning. "Knew I wanted t'fuck you so good you'd get loud. Wanted to hear it."

All it takes is Steve's hands skimming over every mark he left behind, as if checking to make sure that yeah, they're still there like some kind of trophy and the slick head of his cock pressed right at his entrance like a promise. That's all it takes - Bucky almost forgets the first rule; almost grabs himself, hand actually twitching down to his dick before he remembers himself. With a uneven gasp, Bucky forces his hand away and just runs it through dark hair gone completely damp with sweat, sticking to his temple or flopping free of the pomade. Compared to the sharp dressed guy who left the apartment, Bucky has no clue how ruined he looks.

"Fuuu–uucckk," Bucky's head falls back in a long arch, body bowing upwards like it always does when Steve pushes into him in the first time in ages. Maybe the toy was stiffer, but Steve is long, and he's thick. Bigger than you'd expect from a little guy, and Bucky's groan shakes at the ceiling as if Steve's pushing it out of him with every inch. Loud enough that anyone down the hall could hear. Certainly loud enough to get the cops called on them back at their joint.

His hole clasps greedily around the hot shaft opening him up, Bucky compulsively working his hips in a little circle just to feel every inch sink in until at least, Steve's pushed against him, balls deep.

Bucky's hands kind of flail about as Steve finishes seating himself to a very thick hilt. He has to grab at the backrest, fumbling for something to hold onto, while his other hand lands with a slap on Steve's hip and holds on. His heel digs in hard against him as Bucky shakes all around him.

"Guess…guess you got your wish," Bucky pants. Planning this for weeks. He pushes down a little more, to really feel Steve filling him up, savoring the hot, bittersweet burning stretch. "Got more than you bargained for huh?"

They're both gonna be bruised in the morning. A handprint on his hip, a band around his thigh. Twinges and aches he pushes through and ignores to keep grinding right on in, eyes fluttering shut as the sheer heat of Bucky draws him in. Sets fire to his marrow like the worst sort of fever; but be'n sick never felt so goddamn good. "Fuck-"

Punched out of him in a short breath where Bucky moans loud and long, gorgeous and begging for attention- he's earned it. More than.

Let the club hear how well he takes it. How hard Steve's giv'n it to him. Let the line of boys on Steve's Dance Card know who it is he goes home to and why he doesn't always give them the time of day. How could he when he has this waiting for him? A sweet sharp smile, cut jaw, broad shoulders. All the musculature and power of a man, all the soft pretty parts of a dame with an ass that's obscene and a mouth like a hoover. None of them could compare.

One hand holds Bucky's thigh steady, the other skims up his chest, tugging the tie off his face without warning so he can see how dark Bucky's eyes have been blown- and Buck can see the flush giving Steve enough color he damn near looks healthy. Eyes bright and lips bit red, undershirt sticking to him and belt jingling where they join, the metal cool compared to their combined fever heat.

Steve's hair falls into his eyes as he leans forward, grinding in good and deep before pulling out and pressing in. Slow and deep, eyes locked on Bucky's. Breath hissed in between his teeth like he's fighting off an asthma attack. "Nah, Buck. I can always take you-"

Consensual Control

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Steve would make a killing on Quinn, this is true.

Why are they poor then, go get to work Steve! They can live like kings!

Quinn doesn't exist in the 40s unfortunately. Maybe he can do a few gigs in a booth, talk a guy off.

Watch Steve come back with so much money they could get a fancy apartment.

Now there's an AU idea.

I like it :D

just gonna add that to the list >.>