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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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-"

Oh Jesus. His hole clenches all around the hot shaft. Steve's swear comes in a short punched out sound, always like he's surprised all over again at how hot and tight Bucky is when he first sinks inside him. With the blindfold on, Bucky's entire focus boils down to the open fly brushing against him, the throbbing cock stuffing him so full that Bucky's hyperware of every inch.

He already feels like he's halfway out of his mind again. It comes and goes like that, the dose driving him so cock-hungry that nothing else registers. So he doesn't even notice Steve tug the tie off at first. Bucky's eyes are closed, lashes dark against his cheeks before they flutter open against the warm lamplight, then slide up to meet Steve's.

The grey in Bucky's eyes is already swallowed up by the dark arousal, glassy like he's having a hard time focusing between Steve's face looking so gorgeous, down to the lips begging to get his teeth on them, and then down, down to where they're joined together, with Steve's undershirt half rucked up on slender, perfect hips and Steve's cock buried inside him. Bucky's eyes go down there and stay down there, suddenly obsessed with the sight of him being forced to take every inch.

"Not even a challenge for you-," Bucky cuts off when a hungry groan gets fucked out of him as Steve begins to move. Begins to fuck him like Bucky's been aching for every since he wound his arm around Bucky's waist. Pleasure spasms across Bucky's face.

His own cock looks painfully hard as it bobs with each grind against him, Bucky's nails dragging against Steve's hips as Steve works his cock inside his hole in easy, slow, deep thrusts. Makes him feel every inch as he's opened anew, especially when Steve's cock threatens to slip free. Bucky circles his hips up and greedily swallows him down on a thrust, bearing down on him as he fumbles up for Steve's shirt and drags him in for a messy kiss, tongue fucking deep inside his mouth in one slick slide.

He looks a picture- always does. First thing in the morning, fresh from the shower, exhausted and strung out from god knows how many days he's been up work'n to make ends meet. Sometimes he wonders what the dames get to see when he takes them out for a little 'walk' after dinner and dancing. Is he stern, does he smile and joke to make them feel safe? Does he treat them all soft and sweet, give them the big ole doe eyes hungry for another kiss, another stroke of the hand? Sometimes he wonders if he could ask.

Let Buck get fresh with him, get him all slicked up and grind away inside. Might be somth'n special the way he gets so goddamn hungry for it, how he rolls his hips back, strains for every inch he gets.

Wouldn't work, he doesn't think. Too many chances for something to go wrong with his heart or his lungs , and he gets pushed around enough by the world to not want to bring it into the bedroom. Likes being in charge too much. Taking care of his boys when they kneel all pretty and needful. Loves tak'n care of Bucky. Cradling his trust and his hidden fragility in calloused hands and fucking them both within an inch of Buck's life.

It's beautiful. Wouldn't trade it for anything. "Hardly, with how you're always so hungry for it. Barely have to tap my belt buckle before you're eye'n me like a well trimmed steak. Don't see you look at other fella's like that- just me."

"That why you started doing it so much, just to get my attention?" Bucky pants against Steve's lips, then licks deep inside his mouth. Practically ravages him to make up for the lost time; it's been torture not having his mouth on his for so long. He only breaks free when his lungs begin to burn. "Other guys don't hold a candle to you."

They never did, even before he fell into this game with Steve. Far as he sees it, a fella like Steve's one in a million.

Bucky drags Steve down over him with a hand gripping his hair, trailing a trail of hot kisses up along the hard angle of his jaw. His cock rears up between them, angry and desperate looking, already drooling clear onto Bucky's stomach each time Steve pumps in so deep that Bucky's toes curls. Can't touch it himself - Steve said so. But it doesn't mean much if he happens to brush up against Steve while he impales him. Precome streaks against Steve's stomach, against his hip, as Bucky squirms up under him to trace even an ounce of frction.

Bucky's eyes look fever-bright with arousal when he lifts them back up to Steve's, and even though he said he wanted it slow, the greedy hunger flares up again and washes everything else. Makes him just want. Makes him chase after the pleasure that's starting to burn hot all over again.

Clutching at the sofa, Bucky pushes himself back onto Steve's cock, eagerly seating himself to the hilt, and loving the stretch as he's opened up again. Steve's bigger than you'd expect, but the feeling of getting worked open and stuffed full never gets old.

Steadily, Bucky fucks himself down onto him, tight despite the toy Steve had slide inside him, whimpering as his reddened, tender ass brushes against Steve's slacks.

He's got a line waiting and ready but it's hard to speak when Buck gets his mouth on him. There's a few reasons he doesn't just lie back and let this happen often- those lips are like a drug. Like world class whiskey all pepper hot and honey sweet, smokey and sharp and he groans into the kiss. Sucks on the tongue Bucky slips him eager as anything.

Too easy to forget Bucky isn't only his in every which way instead of the moments they tumble into each other. Sure they both talk a big game, paint out wet dreams and fantasies but they live like nothing's different until something or other crashes them together with aching heat and a firm hand. But kissing makes it feel more real. More like he could keep this for good, maybe sneak in something lighter and easier even on days when he can't get it up or when the weather lays him out.

Steve has to push it from his mind, swearing, panting against the angle of Bucky's jaw, caught up between the smear of those lips, the odd press and slide of Buck's cock, and the impossibly tight clench. Should've used a bigger toy but then he wouldn't have gotten this.

How hungry Bucky is for him.

The gripping heat, how he whimpers and moans between each kiss, grinds back so desperate. Tries-

Tries to speed things up and take it rough and "No, Buck-"

Panting and trying to reach for that firm voice ut unable to quite manage it after so much of this mess. He presses his forehead into Bucky's shoulder and rocks in deep- going still. "If you can't-fuck - If you can't behave you don't- you don't get anything. You asked for this, so you're gonna get it-"

Little whimpers and moans end up fucked out of him - at this point, Bucky's so tight that every slide into his add feels a little like it's strangling Steve's cock each time he thrusts home. Maybe they should've used something bigger to prep Bucky before Steve pushed in. Any other day at least. But now Bucky wouldn't dream of having him any other way. It's perfect. Steve's perfect. He can't get enough of how full Steve makes him feel, how he grinds against that spot inside him that sends fierce waves of pleasure down his spine, and if he's limping later, it'll be like a badge of honor. Steve did that, and Bucky was able to take it, able to carry around the soreness for a couple days like a souvenir.

So Bucky pours himself into this moment where it's allowed, because it already feels like he's starved of him already. Bucky turns his head and drags Steve away from his shoulder into another greedy, searing kiss even when Steve just stops inside him, other hand sliding up to scrape up into blond strands like he can't bear not to mess him up further.

He could survive on only Steve's kisses if he had his way. But they're not supposed to be like that. Getting soft and sweet all the time was for making time with a nice dame. Not your best guy.

But what Bucky can't survive right now with Steve just…not moving. Bucky doesn't mean to whine against Steve's mouth - later he'd swear he didn't- but that's exactly what comes out. He bears down on his cock, trying to massage his length, get him going even when Steve doesn't budge.

"Jesus, Joseph and Mary," Bucky gasps, squirming all over Steve's dick throbbing inside him. He vaguely remembers saying it. When he'd an ounce of wits back, which Bucky's starting to think is overrated. Now with his dick running the show all over again, it's hard to remember why he said that. He just wants. Leaning up, Bucky catches Steve's lips between his teeth, biting into the lower lip that Bucky always thought looked too pretty and plush for a guy. "Please, pal, you gotta move. Please. You can't leave me hanging here."

That whine is gonna live lodged in the back of Steve's mind, in the pit of his gut forever. He's never heard Buck so desperate, so needy, never had him wiggle around like if he doesn't get some friction he'll die. If he hadn't already quit he would've to keep from shooting off. Thank fuck when he's not moving that too tight clasp aches enough to keep him from tipping over the edge early.

Buck said slow and deep so he'll get it slow and deep until Steve can't.

"You're gonna get what you asked for-" Slow. He withdraws slow and slick, trying to pin Bucky's hips to keep him from rocking down and taking more. "And you're gonna like it. You're not call'n the shots here, remember?"

The barest thread of control, he scrapes and strains for that deep, heavy voice but this breathless and close he just sounds pissed about the weather. He'll take what little dignity he can get. It's not much but it might be enough.

Holding Buck's thighs wide he withdraws, grinds in, waits to the count of three to not shoot off (and to be a bastard, but mostly the first one), and then out again. Annoyed like this he can push a little harder, slap their hips together loud enough to be heard under all Buck's wanton cries.

His hear'n ain't so good and Buck's five kinds of distracted but he might be able to hear a muffled 'jesus fuck' from whoever's pressed on the other side of the door, listening to them, stroking themselves off. Steve'll worry about that later. Hard to manage when there's teeth in his lip and it smarts like a devil, when all he wants, all he can think about is biting Bucky back so he does. High enough to see over his shirt collar, teeth digging in blunt against the side of his throat.

Bucky kind of hates his past self for screwing things for him now.

"Yes, sir, I remember," Bucky's replies huskily, face twisted with an unhappy grimace - why the hell did he have to let his brain call the shots back there, what the hell does it know? - but he nods. Steve's the one calling the shots. And Bucky? He's always loved it more than he should when the little guy gets all stubborn. Gets all bossy and a pain in the ass. All Bucky has to do is take it every inch.

Steve could be out there with those guys filling up his dance card, but he's here with him, being so damn patient for Bucky. He'd be pathetically grateful if he wasn't so desperately hard up, his dick pulsing and so damn hard that Bucky's not sure how it hasn't fallen off yet.

Bucky's eyes slide half-shut, almost dreamy, when Steve grinds deep and holds, forcing a strain into his thighs: makes him feel every inch of the throbbing shaft nestled inside him, before dragging it back out in a toe-curling slide. Bucky arches under him with a needy groan as Steve's hips slap back into his, grinds against that spot in him as he impales him again, his own cock leaking steadily like Steve's just about fucking more out of him.

But there's something underneath the smack of flesh; someone outside their door, someone listening in and liking it. Bucky's eyes go a little glassy, hip jolting upwards to fuck against nothing at all with a broken moan, at the thought of that door opening, of whoever it is stopping at his head and guiding Bucky's mouth onto a hard cock so he'll be filled from both ends. Oh God, yes please.

He'd been petting Steve's hair sloppily until then, now Bucky's fingers drag in tight, hard enough to make it smart when Steve turns the kiss into a biting mess, and dragged down the column of his throat. Drag new welts like he's marking his territory.

Bucky jolts under him with the desperate sounds of a man dying. His dick looks painfully red, glistening and untouched, bouncing obscenely each time Steve gives it to him. He scrabbles at Steve's belt, hooking his fingers in them, body eagerly swallowing up every inch.

"Someone'll...Someone'll see, you shouldn't-" Bucky's voice breaks on one thrust so deep he can feel it in his chest.

"Shouldn't what?" Steve's voice has gone ragged, his patience well worn past thin. Deep and slow and he thinks, he thinks he's been going long enough to keep it good. Christ knows he can't keep going this slow with the heat pooling at the base of his spine, tangling in his gut like barbed wire. "Shouldn't mark what's mine?"

He doesn't expect an answer with how he's giving up on slow and deep and steady, using the very last of his energy and irritation at Bucky telling him to not. They're in this mess cuz Bucky couldn't keep his mind and mouth to himself months ago. He asked for this, he started this. Like every argument they get wrapped up in, keeping track of who kicked off the row gives Steve a leg to stand on and enough power in his lungs to go at it. Bout as hard as he managed to swing and redden Buck's ass he snaps in faster, harder, deeper.

Won't be able to manage this long. He never can. But even being able to manage for a moment-

He'll take that.

Glower down at Bucky like they're in the middle of a fight instead of him balls deep driving away in Buck's ass, breath hissing out between his teeth. Tomorrow he'll be bruised and sore and moving at all is gonna be five kinds of a chore but it's worth it for how hot and desperate Buck is under him right now. One hand skims up from his hip to finally fist around his cock, squeezing and stroking, determined to get Buck to come screaming one last time before his body gives out.

there's a tickle at the back of his throat, a hitch in his breath that's his usual warning of an impending attack, but he's gotta do this. Can't do it all day but for the next minute? Every muscle in his too skinny frame is honed in on nailing Bucky through the sofa, voice a rumbling growl. "Let 'em see. You're mine, remember? No one else's. Let 'em watch you whine like a callgirl gett'n good dick, let 'em be jealous they can't give it to you half this hard-"

They got this rule about leaving marks where anyone on the street can see. Even a good reason for it, only Bucky can't think of anything else but the hot scrape of Steve's voice all over him and the drag of the thick shaft inside him. Whatever answer Bucky had dies off into a watery keen, fingers pulling too hard at Steve's hair as he forgets to gentle his grip. His, his, his.

Just doesn't seem all that important when Steve ruts away at him, slow and deep and stubbornly steady, opening Bucky's hole up like he's carving out himself a piece to call home. Bucky trembles under him with the effort it takes not to accidentally knock Steve's grip off his hips where he's pinning him down; it'd be too easy to do it and ruin the fantasy, so it's the last crumb of willpower he's got to let Steve hold him steady. No fucking himself back on his cock, even as Bucky tries to bear down and squeeze each time Steve fucks into him.

Until finally Steve gives it to him, really gives it to him.

Bucky can't help it: he jostles Steve's grip as he lurches upwards, one hand digging into Steve's ass as he thrusts back upwards to meet each hard thrust pounding him into the mattress, nailing that bundle of nerves with the same aim as a sniper. Bucky's eyes roll back and squeeze shut, eyelashes damp with the rising pleasure that's getting to be too much as Steve pistons into him, forcing the moans out of Bucky to ratchet higher and higher while Steve glares down at him. Close, so goddamn close, it feels so good, it hurts, it hurts so fucking good.

Steve's hand finally touches his dick, and Bucky practically sobs under him, almost throwing him off balance when his hips snap desperately up to hump into his grip. But it's the words growling in his ear that finishes him off. The pleasure burning through him just…snaps. Bucky's face twists in agonized ecstasy as he screams a shattered sound, body going tight around Steve's dick and his cock throbbing as it starts to come hard; the spurts are broken and weaker, like he's on his last legs, dragged reluctantly out of him like that's all he's got left.

It feels a lot like dying as he shakes apart, as Bucky comes so hard he actually blacks out from the force of it, limbs going heavy against Steve as he's reduced down to several last twitches.

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 >.>

Yes, perfect >:D

on the one hand, money! On the other hand, Bucky gett'n jealous >.>

That's truly a dilemma. Bucky really does want Steve all to himself

Maybe he hides it at first, they have a small argument?

Bucky would be so upset when he finds out, hurray for more drama

Definetly gotta find a meme to do that thread next >.>

I'm totally down for it after this one's a wrap!

A+

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