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Steve hums as he continues to nod his head, nudges Bucky’s nose with the tip of his own. The Senator’s pleased noise leaves the air between their two bodies but remains present in the roar of Bucky’s head. He breathes in through his open mouth Steve’s own breaths, hot puffs of air that Bucky wants to swim in until he’s six feet under. The ache in the middle of his back from the door handle, the inside of the car door, is long gone, and has been replaced by the constant press of the Senator’s cock against his thigh.

It is faint compared to the ache of his erection, the way his dick lays heavy and sad against his stomach, his dress shirt.

All Bucky can focus on is the slick finger slipping in and out of his asshole.

“That’s nice. Why don’t you say it again, but say it properly,” Steve whispers into his bottom lip, request nonexistent in his tone, this Bucky knows. He whines as he swallows audibly, nods his head and tries again with a slur of, “S’Daddy’s pussy.” This time Steve purrs, croons into Bucky’s mouth, “Atta boy, s’right,” before sucking Bucky’s bottom lip into a kiss that is nothing short of dominating.

Bucky hears himself whine into the Senator’s mouth, feels the fabric of the older’s dress shirt crumple up underneath his grabby hands. Bucky didn’t get any further than yanking the bottom of it out from the high waist of Steve’s dress slacks as they fell into the back seat of this car, but he gives trying to reach for the skin of Steve’s belly his best effort. Where he’s sprawled half across the Senator’s lap, legs splayed and pants and briefs around his ankles, it’s difficult for him to move, but he thinks Steve enjoys that.

“This is Daddy’s pussy, m’glad you think so. Got a lot of people after this pussy, don’t you? Huh? Got everyone in that banquet hall wantin’ to get their dick wet, ain’t that right?”

The arm curled behind his lower back squeezes, gives Bucky a good shake as the finger inside of him curls, strokes expertly and featherlight at his sweet spot. Bucky chokes on his words, on an answer he needs to give but is unsure of what it would be. He sputters where he lays contorted, noises pathetic as Steve licks them out of his mouth from the inside out.

Bucky wants another finger, wants to get fucked, doesn’t want to talk about someone else pursuing Bucky that evening. He doesn’t want to talk about how fired up it has made the Senator no matter how fucking hot it is to see him possessive. Bucky wants to feel that possession more.

“S’yours,” is all Bucky can whine out as his fingers scramble and curl at Steve’s stomach, the closest to his cock he can get in the position he is in. Steve doesn’t respond with words, instead presses the tip of a second finger against Bucky’s rim alongside the first as he pulls it out, presses back in.

“A’course it’s mine. Fuckin’ own this sweet boy pussy,” Steve tells him, growls the words out as his eyes flicker across Bucky’s face, watches him react to the way Steve’s fingers feel fucking in and out of the very pussy they’re talking about. Bucky’s noise sounds somewhat like a moan, is a ragged one, a squeal sneaking in when the Senator doesn’t stop, doesn’t let Bucky adjust, fingerfucks him with eager deep strokes.

“Fu—uck, Daddy…please, Daddy,” Bucky cries, hand skating and scratching its way up to the Senator’s neck, other hand flying up to press back against the window. He thinks it will help him fuck himself down onto Steve’s thick fingers more thoroughly, but after two seconds of pitiful attempts to get his body and brain to sync up, he’s left whimpering as Steve’s continues to press and stroke at his prostate.

The click of Steve’s tongue has a physical force to it, one that almost matches the feel of his fingers stretching Bucky’s pussy out, of them carving out a home inside of Bucky, all for the Senator.

“Shut up. It’s my turn. Watched you kiss ass and flaunt around all night, leavin’ people thinkin’ they could get with an easy slut like you,” the Senator spits as he teases Bucky’s rim with a third finger. “Didn’t even think to tell any of ‘em that you got a Daddy, did you?”

Bucky doesn’t try to object or fight back against Steve’s accusation because there is no point in doing so—Steve is correct. 

Bucky has enjoyed his evening, taking advantage of an open bar and a room full of powerful people. If Bucky leaned in to grab an elbow as he laughed a little too enthusiastically at a joke or kept his lips purposefully wet throughout the night, so be it. If it led to him slipping a few new phone numbers into his pocket and to being here, it was all worth it.

This game, this dynamic that he and Steve have is delicious, is heady. Steve is his Daddy, yes, but Bucky is beginning to see the appeal to no strings, to no full-time commitment.

He’s about to go home with a few new numbers and with an orgasm or two wrung from his body.

“I didn’t—” Bucky tries for the hell of it and thank fuck he does because it finally gives him what he wants, finally gives him those three slick fingers, that sweet burn of them pressing in passed his rim.

“You think they know? You think they know you got a Daddy who keeps this greedy pussy happy? The way you were actin’ tonight probably made it seem like you and your pussy need a Daddy or two.”

“No, no only...only need you—you’re my Daddy, fuck. You’re my Daddy,” Bucky whines as best he can, dropping his voice into a tone that he knows punches the Senator right in the dick, that whiny one that makes it sound like he’s getting thoroughly fucked. He doesn’t need to put in any extra effort or to try hard to make himself sound that desperate though; three of Steve’s fat fingers are making sure of just that.

Bucky’s dick drools, his lip curls as the Senator presses, pushes, strokes at Bucky, makes that pleasant yet overwhelming curling sensation build in his core. Steve’s chest heaves under Bucky’s hand and he wants more, brings the hand behind his head forward to drag his fingers through the Senator’s hair. He all but feeds his bottom lip to Steve before the older is digging his teeth into it.

“Should’a let you go home with one’a them. Should just call one of ‘em up and tell them they can have you, that we can share. You slutted it up pretty hard for Stark, why don’t I call him, huh?”

Bucky tugs at Steve’s hair harder, bucks his hips as he lets out a huff.

“You, you’re my Daddy…!”

“Should give you a few’a my business cards, keep ‘em on hand so you can give them out to the punks who can’t feed you like you want, tell ‘em who to call when that pussy doesn’t get dicked down the way it needs to be.”

“Fuck, Steve, oh my god.”

Bucky feels sweat bead up on his brow, uses the hand in Steve’s hair to pull himself and his throbbing body closer to Steve’s own. The Senator’s words burn in his ears, burn on his insides. It’s a brand, one that makes Bucky’s toes curl in his shoes, one that makes him shout into Steve’s mouth when Steve takes to showing Bucky how well he knows Bucky’s body, his pussy.

“Yeah, that’s right—s’my pussy. You can flaunt it around and let people chase you for a taste, y’can even let other people fuck it, but it’s mine. Ain’t that right?”

Bucky nods his head, bumps noses, cheeks, with Steve as he does so. They sound like animals, they sound like they’re fighting, not that Bucky is grappling at the Senator while he’s three fingers deep into Bucky’s ass in the backseat of this car. Steve reaches for Bucky’s bottom lip again, his mouth, digs his teeth into Bucky’s jaw when he pulls away with a hmph.

“Ain’t that right?”

“Ngh, yeah, yes! Yours, you. Make this pussy come, come on—prove it.”

Bucky’s words would be more powerful if he didn’t sound like he was a hair away from crying, voice wet with need, with the frustration to go with it. Steve’s bite to his neck is painful, skin vibrating from both Steve’s warning growl as well as from the push of teeth. The arm around the small of Bucky’s back goes tight again, the bow of it helping him bear down on the stroke of Steve’s fingers, the squelch of them fucking into Bucky making him keen.

“M’gonna make this pussy come here in this fuckin’ backseat, gonna make you come squealin’, ‘Thank you, Daddy!’. Gonna take this pussy home, gonna fuck you until you beg me to stop, until you’re weepin’. Then we’ll see if you need to pick up your phone and call any’a those numbers in your pocket, sore and well-fed pussy and all…”

Bucky sobs into Steve’s mouth, tilts his hip up to better meet the strength and stroke of the Senator’s fingers, hiccups as he winds his arms tight around Steve’s shoulders, his neck. As much as he enjoys playing this game, Bucky knows Steve is right. No matter where he goes or who he fucks, Bucky will always have a reoccurring itch that can only be scratched by Steve Rogers.

Bucky swallowed thickly, your sweet glistening pussy throbbing against his tongue.

“Just like that baby” You moaned, your eyes rolling back as he licked a careful stripe through your folds before dipping his tongue in, groaning at how you gushed on his tongue. You bit your lip watching Bucky gently lick you up, his hips rutting against the mattress as he ate you out, whining and whimpering with his eyes closed. He humped the bed faster, completely lost in his own world, listening to you guide him on what to do.

He couldn’t cum yet. You deserved more pleasure and he wanted to give it to you.

“Play with my clit baby, right there” You whined out, grabbing and tugging his hair when he started to gently suckle on your clit, his lips sealed perfectly around you. He’d imagined this plenty of times, in the privacy of his room, thick cock in his hand, desperately stroking, thinking about the way you’d moan, the way you’d feel, how soft your skin would be. His name tumbled from your lips, making him grind in slow circles, hardly conscious of what he was even doing.

Fuck, it felt so good; a little more pressure wouldn’t hurt…

His cock was rock hard, straining against his sweats. He rubbed himself on the mattress, trying to find some relief, pre cum slowly starting to dribble from the tip, dampening his briefs. He started to sound needier, moaning against you, the vibrations making your clit throb as your orgasm came barrelling towards you.

He couldn’t cum, he had to stuff his cock in you, he couldn’t cum like this.

 “Keep doing that Bucky, just like that baby, doing so fucking good for me!” Your back arched off the bed, your nipples hard, tugging his hair, making Bucky’s cock throb. He groaned, not realizing how hard he was grinding against the bed, fuck it felt good, so good. His hand was one thing but tasting you on his tongue while rubbing his aching cock on your firm bed made his balls clench, he couldn’t hold it in even if he tried.

God you sounded like heaven, there was so much cum, he was so sensitive, fuck not yet, not yet not yet, slow down.

He rutted harder, flicking his tongue over your sensitive clit repeatedly till you were crying out for him, making a mess all over his face. He kept rubbing himself, chasing the warm feeling that built quickly down his spine; high pitched whines leaving his throat as cum started to pour from his leaking tip, making a mess on your sheets.

Fuck.

“Your turn James, let me take care of you baby” You cooed, your skin warm, a light sheen of sweat covering your body. You smiled down at Bucky who looked away, avoiding your eyes, anxiously tracing random shapes onto your skin. “Baby?”

 “Bucky? Is everything okay?” You reached up to pull him closer to you, searching his face for any discomfort, not noticing the front of his soaked grey sweats. Bucky blushed, nuzzling his face into your neck, his cheeks hot from embarrassment, worried he’d disappointed you.

“M’sorry baby” He mumbled, his cock sensitive as he squirmed, his thighs rubbing together feeling the hot sticky mess he made on himself.

“What? Why baby, whats wrong” You cupped his face, your thumb caressing his cheek, worried he suddenly felt uncomfortable when he refused to look at you.

“I- um” Bucky looked down at the very clear stain on his sweats, desperately wishing he could take them off. You smiled softly at him, playing with his hair while kissing his nose, your hands gently holding his face, making him look at you.

“Baby, its okay, I’m not upset bubba. Did it feel good?” Bucky nodded shyly, relaxing in your hold while you continued to give him little reassuring kisses, holding you close to him.  “It’s supposed to feel good baby”

“My sweet baby, you want to cuddle until you feel ready again?” Bucky snuggled into your chest, letting sleep take over for a moment.

*****

“Ready baby?”

Bucky nodded, carefully supporting some of his body weight as he lay on top of you, moaning as you rubbed the head of his cock onto your clit in small circles, teasing him.

“Please y/n, wanna be inside you baby” Bucky moaned, hissing when you lined his tip up with your entrance. Your eyes locked with his, your thighs spreading out further, your arousal soaking his cock perfectly.

“Right there Bucky, push your cock in baby- Bucky moaned as he started inching inside you, he’d dreamt of his but your warm silky walls were too much, practically massaging and caressing the velvety shaft of his cock.

“Fuck James, yes baby fuck yes, push your cock in me baby, stretching me Bucky, stretching me so good with your thick cock” You cried out for him, your walls sucking him deeper as he stayed still, panting into your neck.

How the fuck was he supposed to last when you said shit like that.

“Oh- Y/n, I- fuckfuckfuck you feel-” Bucky let out a strangled cry, his cock immediately throbbing as soon as his sensitive tip slid into you, streams of cum pouring into your already dripping pussy, adding to the mess on your bed. Bucky continued to rut into you, pleasure border lining pain, over stimulating himself

He had no idea how many times it would take before he’d be able to control himself, without shooting his load the second you touched him.

“Sorry y/n I-

You shook your head, not letting him continue, wrapping your legs around him to keep him from pulling out.

“Keep your cock warm baby, we have all night, you can take as many times as you need”

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed! (also this is an 18+ blog, I can’t tag nameless/ageless blogs)  

Bucky looks down at the screen, it's been ringing out for a while now. His thumb hovers over the answer swipe button with your name displayed above it as he just stares. You had not long started dating and you were turning out to be insatiable. He was addicted.

"Yeah." He gets up and starts towards the back of the jet. "Uh, I'll just go in the back. It's a… thing, I just gotta…"

Steve raises a curious brow but just shrugs. "Sure, go do your… 'thing', but we're landing in ten."

"I know." He quickly shuts himself in the bunk room, swiping up on his phone as he sits down on his cot.

"Baby," comes your voice through the speaker, soft and needy. "Is everything going okay? When are you coming home? I miss you."

"Doll, hey. It's fine, a few more days is all, you know I miss you too?"

You hum and click your tongue. "Not sure I can wait a few more days, James. Need you." you sigh.

He lays down and stretches out on the cot. So, you're in that kind of mood… something he can work with at least. "Mm. You in bed?"

"Yeah, all alone." You manage to pout through the phone and Bucky can't hold back his smirk.

"Aww sweetheart," he drawls, "I'd fuckin' hope you're all alone…"

You huff. "You know what I mean."

He laughs, it's too easy to wind you up when you're desperate for him. And he's just as bad. He clears his throat and gets comfortable.

"Alright, I'll tell you what's gonna happen. I ain't got long but I wanna be good to you. I'm gonna talk, and you're gonna listen, and, if I tell you to do something you're gonna do it. You got that, doll?"

As soon as you hear that tone in his voice your body responds like it's on autopilot. "Yes baby." You quickly reply.

"That's my good girl. Now, you all naked sweetheart?”

You reply with an eager ‘mmhm’, wriggling on the sheets as you wait with baited breath and a quickening heartbeat for his instructions.

“Are you… excited?” He cheekily asks, knowing full well how much this turns you on.

You're a little bit more than that. Soaked already from thrill of having him make you come over the phone with just his voice. Still, you aim to please.

"So, so excited. All for you."

"Put your hand down between your legs sweetheart, and let me hear how wet you are."

You moan as your fingers slide so easily through your folds, holding the phone near so that he can hear the slick noises as you start to touch yourself.

"Mm s'good baby," he responds, "can't wait to get home and treat you like you deserve, my mouth on you, all day every day."

At that admission you squeeze your thighs together and start stroking over your clit. A wavering whimper meets Bucky's ears and he shifts uncomfortably on the bunk, unable to curb the interest his cock was taking.

"Shit baby, you sound so sweet, you gonna fuck yourself with your fingers for me?"

The phone is laid down at your side as you push two already wet fingers inside your pussy, sliding them in and out at pace as you keep on teasing your clit. "Oh, feels so good…"

"Yeah, bet it does. Go faster."

You bite down on your lip as you obey, sending little gasps of pleasure over the line to his ears. "Bucky… want you..."

He clears his throat, resisting the urge to palm over his cock. There was no time for him, only for you.

"That's a good girl, do this for me. C'mon, faster."

You can't help the way your hips lift up off the bed each time you plunge your fingers into yourself, getting wetter and wetter as you imagine it was him instead. "Oh…"

"Don't stop darlin', need you to come real fast. Need to hear you doll. You gonna do it sweetheart?"

Your long desperate whine just makes him harder as you fuck yourself for him. "Bucky, please!"

"That's it baby, that's it… c'mon," he hears the telltale change in your breathing as you tip over the edge and it's almost enough to have him coming in his pants. "oh, there you go…"

Your screams and moans are so loud he swears that Steve would probably be able to hear it over the phone and through the strengthened walls of the jet.

When your harsh gasps have quietened, you ask him why there was such a rush.

"Yeah, real sorry about that. Wanted to take my time with you but we gotta meet someone. And boy was it was gonna be awkward to begin with but now, uh…"

Bucky attempted to stay in Steve's shadow as they walked down the jet ramp towards their waiting contacts, but there was no hiding it.

"James, such a pleasure to see you once more. However, it seems you are even happier to see me?"

When he looked up at Bucky from between your thighs, he was so low, so close to you, that Bucky could only see his eyes. Once pious and principled, now they were dark, the empyrean blue almost fully drowned out by black. There was a fierceness in that black that made Bucky shiver— something untamed, simmering just below the surface. 

It was enough to make a man’s blood run cold, seeing this paragon of human existence lying there, panting and predatory. Close enough to devour you whole, if he so desired. But when Bucky shivered, it wasn’t because he was afraid— it was because he knew that look. He remembered it.

When Steve had asked that question— could he see?— you glanced at Bucky, your eyes bright with exhilaration. You almost laughed, not to make fun of Steve, but because that question was all too familiar; Bucky had asked the same thing months ago. But Bucky was deadly serious back then, and tonight, in your nearly-empty bedroom, Steve was deadly serious, too. 

Instead of giggling, you let your knees fall apart as an answer. Steve paused for a moment to collect himself before he slithered down the bed— it was like he knew. Whatever he was about to see when he settled his shoulders between your thighs, he knew it was going to destroy him. 

He took in the view with a shuddering breath, and when his midnight eyes met Bucky’s, that pinnacle of man had shattered. Cracked and ruined down to his very core, led astray by the sight before him— your leaking cunt, thoroughly fucked and filled by his best friend.

From where he lay next to you, Bucky could hear Steve’s heart hammering in his chest. He heard Steve’s slow, deep breaths, and how he worked to slow his racing pulse seemingly through willpower alone. Steve blinked, hard, and when he met Bucky’s eyes again, he was cooler. More composed. He stifled that beast down inside him, locked it further and further away with each breath. But he would never be able to hide it completely— Steve was always honest.

Months ago, when Bucky’s own burning curiosity was answered, he hadn’t been able to resist. He had pulled you to your knees immediately, plunged inside, fucked you again. But Steve was a better man than Bucky; he had always had more self control. And of course, with you, Steve was more reserved. You weren’t his, and judging by the way he kept looking to Bucky for approval, he was acutely aware that he was a guest in this bedroom.

So no, Steve didn’t touch you. But he swallowed roughly, and when he looked up at Bucky, the wolfish intensity in his eyes sent electricity sparking under Bucky’s skin. Despite the voltage coursing through him, his body didn’t react; super soldier or not, he still needed to recover from his two back-to-back orgasms. But Steve adjusted his hips, and Bucky could see his thick cock standing hard and ready, drooling precum against the sheets.

Sinful. Indecent. Completely fucking divine.

Steve was silent as he stared at you, so after a long while you sat up slightly to check on him. When your abdomen clenched with your movement, a low growl escaped him— the sound of his defenses falling, the last of his sheep’s clothing tearing away. Bucky’s brain felt fuzzy, because he knew what had happened— he knew what it looked like when his cum seeped out of you, knew how it gushed when you bore down like that.

When Steve lifted his eyes to yours, the darkness in them made your breath catch. A wicked grin spread across your face, and you flopped back onto the pillows. “You can touch,” you said, wiggling your hips invitingly. You looked over at Bucky with a pleased smirk— you knew what Steve needed. You always knew. 

Steve wordlessly reached for your clit with the pad of his thumb, and Bucky couldn’t help but grin; Steve was being so good. He was trying to do what Bucky taught him earlier, even though it meant ignoring what he really wanted to do.

So selfless and honorable, even when he was sinning. 

After only a few circles around your clit, you were trembling from your building pleasure. When you clenched around nothing, another dribble of cum leaked out— and without thinking, Steve scooped it up with his index finger and pushed it back inside. A moment too late, the realization of what he just did hit him— He stilled and glanced up at Bucky in panic, his eyes wide and apologetic.

Steve was so respectful. Even after everything that had happened that evening, Steve didn’t want to cross any unspoken boundaries, and he hadn’t asked Bucky if he could touch you like that. But Steve didn’t know that Bucky would never say no to him— he could never deny such a heavenly creature. 

He crawled down the bed to lay next to Steve so he could see, too. 

“Put your fingers inside,” Bucky breathed when he was met with his favorite view. “Two of ‘em. Yeah, like that.”

Steve’s hips flexed of their own accord, thrusting forward against the mattress when he sank his fingers into you. “Oh, shit,” he groaned. 

Bucky placed his hand on Steve’s hip and watched the explosion of goosebumps spread across his skin, but he never took his eyes off you. “Tight, isn’t she? And so wet.”

“Yeah,” Steve rasped. “Smells so good.” Glancing up at your face, he groaned. “Fuck, you smell so good.” Your eyes were glassy and heavy-lidded, but you smiled at him before relaxing back on the pillows. Working his fingers in and out of you slowly, he marveled at the cream that coated them when he pulled them out, looking between your cunt and Bucky with awe. 

“You can taste,” Bucky murmured, remembering how flustered Steve was that morning after the bar. How much he wanted this, even back then. Steve glanced at Bucky, an overwhelmed uncertainty in his eyes, but he licked his lips with that serpent’s tongue and took a deep breath. “Go on, Stevie.”

Steve dove in with no finesse, no goal other than drowning himself in the scent and taste of your slick combined with Bucky’s cum and yeah, okay, Bucky was hard again now. His jaw hung open as he watched Steve lap up the mixed nectar, greedily swallowing every drop he could find.

You writhed from the heat of Steve’s tongue, but your pleasure was an afterthought; he was near-wild with need, an animalistic hunger taking over while he licked up both sides of your fluttering pussy. He didn’t seem aware of the way his hips rocked against the bed, but when his nose bumped your clit, you keened— and Steve froze. 

Bucky could almost see the critical thinking return to Steve’s brain, could see him stuff that selfish monster away and try to return his focus to you. He did that same motion, that same nudge at your clit, and it was enough to make you tremble— but not nearly enough to get you there. Steve’s feasting had been the most delicious form of torture of you, but now your teeth were gritted with need, your hands fisted in the sheets as you wiggled your hips against Steve’s face.

“Help him,” you breathed in Bucky’s direction, but he didn’t understand— there wasn’t room for the two of them to— “Show him how. The thing.”

Oh.

Steve didn’t seem to hear you, so Bucky placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed slightly to get his attention. He moaned when he pulled his face away from your cunt, a desperate sort of noise that made his eyes widen in surprise. His lips and chin were shiny and wet, and when he finally looked at Bucky, he was panting heavily. Bucky sucked in a reverent breath. 

An outsider would see it as a fall from grace— America’s golden boy, dishonored and degraded. But Bucky knew Steve had always been filthy. He was damned from the start.

Bucky couldn’t resist; he crashed his lips against Steve’s, kissing him in earnest. Steve tasted like sin, the elixir on his tongue as decadently sweet as the apple in the garden, and suddenly Bucky understood why he was willing to trade eternal damnation just for a taste of it.

Steve was a god, in his own right.

“Bucky,” you whined from somewhere far away, and when he broke apart from Steve to look at you, he had to remind himself to keep breathing. Steve had made a mess of you, the heady combination of slick, cum, and spit running down over your asshole and forming a wet spot on the sheet below. Your stomach hollowed in and out with your rapid breaths, and your toes prodded into Bucky’s side as you squirmed impatiently, begging for attention. 

“Look, she’s so close,” he murmured to Steve as he ducked down closer to your core. He traced a finger through your folds, feather-light, and you shivered. “You got her so close, Stevie, good job.” Bucky knew that would make Steve blush— he shot him a lopsided grin. “Let me show you how to finish her.”

Steve moved to the side so Bucky could lie between your legs, too. He pressed a kiss to your mound before he began— even with the staticky haze swirling through his brain, he couldn’t help but be sweet with you. He made sure Steve was paying attention before he lowered his face to your cunt. 

“When I do this,” he said before he licked all the way up your slit, and oh, he knew why Steve worshipped you. But he had to focus, had to force himself to finish his thought— “She likes it, right?” He looked sideways at Steve and waited for him to nod before continuing. “But watch this.” He flicked his tongue across your swollen clit, and you gasped; he kept his eyes on Steve’s while he repeated the motion, setting a rhythm with quick but firm strokes. 

“Oh, god,” you whimpered. “Oh, Buck—” You reached down blindly to grab Bucky’s hair, and he smiled against your core when Steve’s jaw dropped open.

Bucky pulled away just far enough to speak, even though you whined at the loss of sensation. “And this…” he mumbled, shivering at the way you clenched when his hot breath ghosted over your skin. “This is what you gotta do.” He pursed his lips over your nub and sucked. 

Your back arched up off the bed instantly, your hips grinding against his face, searching for friction to add to the already overwhelming sensation. Bucky could never say no to you; he gave you a few quick licks, to hold you over. “Yes, yes,” you panted. “Oh, fuck, I’m—”

But your words died in your mouth and you deflated, falling back down to the bed, when Bucky let go. He licked his lips as he moved out of the way. “Finish her, Stevie.”

Steve crawled back into position, and when he lowered his head, you grabbed his hair instantly. With your encouragement, he carefully flicked his tongue against your clit, and you clenched down tightly again. 

“Put your fingers in so you can feel it,” Bucky whispered, as if speaking too loudly would break the sanctity of the moment. “Curl them up.” When Steve did as he was told, you cried out— and hallelujah, Bucky let out a breathy, incredulous chuckle. “She’s gonna squeeze you so good, Stevie. Oh, it’s incredible.” Steve started grinding his hips against the bed again, and Bucky couldn’t help it— he gripped his own cock and stroked it slowly.

He was gonna suck Steve off after this, he decided. It was the least he could do, after Steve made his girl feel so good. After he worked all those pretty sounds out of you. Bucky’s mouth watered at the thought of wrapping his lips around Steve’s swollen tip, swallowing him down and letting him fuck his throat— yeah, he was definitely gonna do that. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he worked his hand over his length just a bit faster.

But Steve’s hips stuttered, and Bucky glanced down to see his cock twitch violently against the sheets. Steve’s breath caught, and he took a moment to compose himself— Bucky could see him thinking, weighing his options— before doubling down and resuming his quick rhythm. He couldn’t wait, Bucky realized. Steve was so wound up that he was chasing his own release with nothing but the cotton sheets and his slick precum to get him there.

But Steve deserved better than having to fuck himself on the mattress.

Bucky knew better than to try to blow him— he knew that Steve, the emotional bastard that he was, would want to be sweet with him the first time. He’d want to be slow and gentle, take his time, make sure Bucky knew how good he was doing— but Steve was past the point of staying in control right now. So Bucky squeezed Steve’s hip until his motions stalled, and he met Bucky’s eyes with the most beautiful, fucked-out, confused expression Bucky had ever seen.

Without speaking, Bucky reached for Steve’s cock, and he understood immediately— he never took his mouth off of your cunt, but he propped himself up on his knees to give Bucky room to work. “C’mere,” Bucky said quietly, and he spit on his right hand before he wrapped it around Steve’s length. “Stay still. I got ya.” He quickly found the pace Steve preferred, stroking him in earnest. 

“That’s right,” he encouraged as Steve moaned into your cunt. His hips were stock still as Bucky worked, and when Bucky reached lower to gently tug on his balls, they were pulled up tight to his body. That elicited another moan from Steve, and he broke away from you, panting— his cock twitched in Bucky’s hand—

“Focus,” Bucky chastised breathily, his hand picking up speed. “Get her there.”

Steve muffled his next moan by sealing his lips around your clit, and after only a few more seconds, your trembling thighs closed on either side of Steve’s head.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve groaned, and Bucky didn’t know if it was from the way you squeezed and pulsed around his fingers when you came, or from Steve’s own orgasm that ripped through him immediately after. His cock throbbed in Bucky’s hand with each spurt of cum onto the ruined sheets. Even as he gasped and shook, he didn’t take his mouth off of you until you squeezed your thighs together to push him away. 

“Enough, enough,” you panted, and Steve let himself collapse over to the side, careful not to fall into the mess he made. You both took a second to catch your breath and regain your bearings, but as your labored breathing quieted, it was replaced by another sound. A faint, mechanical whirring.

Wrapped in the embers of desire, Bucky’s eyes were closed, his metal hand moving faster and faster over his own length. The back of his right hand, dripping with Steve’s spend, was pressed against his mouth— he licked it before he bit down on his knuckle, his face scrunching in pleasure when he shot his load over his own clenched abs. 

When Bucky finally opened his eyes, both you and Steve were watching him. Steve didn’t look like his brain had fully recovered yet, but you huffed disbelievingly, a teasing smile on your face.

“Okay, that’s enough,” you said, attempting to scold him but sounding entirely too amused to be convincing. “What is that, three times, now?” You flopped your shaky arm to the side to smack his shoulder, and he chuckled sheepishly. “You’re benched. Done for the night.”

He shimmied over to kiss you. “Serum, baby,” he said, grinning at your begrudgingly thrilled expression when you tasted Steve on his lips. “Can go all night.”

“You’re also fuckin’ geriatric,” you mumbled, pushing him away with a smile. “Gonna give yourself a heart attack.” 

Steve snickered at that, and you elbowed him. Bucky glanced between the two of you, and he knew— paradise isn’t lost. It’s found.

Steve Rogers is a cumslut. There, I said it.

It’s not because he’s greedy (I mean, he is greedy, but we’ll come back to that). He absolutely gets off on your pleasure, and he’ll do whatever you want, whenever you want. But feeling this good is so new to him, so overwhelming, that a lot of times he can’t do much more than lay back and take it. 

Like, say you’re giving him a blow job (you both quickly discovered that he loves blow jobs). Sure, he can be a little pushy at the start, because he needs you so damn bad and you suckling at his tip just isn’t gonna cut it— he needs to feel you everywhere, and his hips buck forward instinctively to try to bury himself in your throat. But you give him a stern look and pull away, and when he promises to behave, promises to let you have your way, he almost immediately just freezes. Because the more you do to him, the more his pleasure climbs, and he knows that nothing he can do will make him feel any better than how you’re making him feel on your own. His body is tingling, his brain full of static, and he trusts you completely to give him exactly what he needs.

So he tries to behave, tries to keep his body still, but that doesn’t stop his mouth from running. “O-oh, what the hell, what’re you… fuck, that feels so good, oh my god, you’re gonna make me come so quick.” His words slowly dissolve into detached syllables and blissed-out groans, and he never wants it to end. He’s happy to take whatever you can offer him, forever.

But then, later… after you’ve been together for a while, and he’s more comfortable and confident in his body and desires… he’s absolutely a switch. He’s the kind of guy who can start out so subby— “Please let me fuck you, please, I’ll do anything you want, just gotta get in you, sweetheart.” But then at the slightest hint of your weakness— your breathy giggle, the scent of your arousal pooling between your legs because you love it when he begs, love it when he can’t control himself like this— the tables turn so fast. 

He’s yanking your underwear down so quickly that the seams rip, pulling you by your hips into the position he wants (face down, ass up when he’s in this mood). But even when he’s greedy like this, all fast and rough and demanding, he still puts your pleasure first. He’s slamming into you, chasing his own orgasm, but making sure to angle his hips just right so every thrust hits that sensitive spot inside of you. When he realizes he’s climbing faster than you are, he folds his body over your back and rubs your clit with exactly the speed and pressure that you taught him to use.

His mouth still runs, too. “Ohh, you like that, don’t you. That’s right, there you go. You love this. You love me. Oh, fuck, you love me.”