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Ever since Steve had discovered how hopelessly aroused he was by Bucky’s Winter Soldier persona, Bucky enthusiastically incorporated that tidbit into their sex life every way he could. It certainly helped that Bucky was every bit as strong as Steve due to the serum flowing through his veins, and he found it hard to get sick of rendering Steve’s strong body pliant underneath him as he had his way. He’s wasted countless hours daydreaming of Steve so willingly relinquishing his autonomy on a silver platter, knowing that Bucky would treasure it with the utmost of care.
He’s whistling an old 40’s tune as he unlocks the front door, hearing Steve stumbling over himself to greet him. He knows what they have planned for today, and the slight flush painted over his cheeks and the shy bite at his lips prove that he’d been picturing it as he waited for Bucky to return.
Bucky’s dressed in his civilian clothes, on the way back from a volunteer shift at the local community center, but Steve’s gaze hungrily raking over his body strips him nude. He still can’t get used to the heady feeling of a lover being so utterly attracted to every aspect of himself, especially someone as gorgeous and perfect as Steve .
Bucky smirks and closes the gap between them with two long strides, flicking the front door closed behind him. He reaches up to loop his arms around Steve’s neck, hands tugging at the short strands of hair at his neck, and he pulls him in for a deep, wet kiss. Steve whines into him, his hands coming up to grip desperately at Bucky’s waist. When Bucky pulls away after a few minutes, Steve sheepishly looks down at the half-chub growing in his pants, already making itself known with barely any stimulation.
Bucky just giggles, stroking his fingers through Steve’s golden locks. “Happy to see me, sweetheart?”
Steve grins at him brightly, and Bucky’s heartstrings twinge ferociously. “Always,” Steve breathes, and there’s an edge of desperation to his voice that Bucky finds delectable.
Bucky leans back in to lightly mouth at his neck. “Go and sit in the bedroom with your headphones on,” he murmurs, knowing that he understands exactly what he means. With wide eyes, Steve nods quickly and almost trips over his own feet in a rush to obey, turning around and making his way to the back of the apartment. The image is certainly amusing to look at— Steve’s massive frame reduced to a bumbling, obedient mess, desperate to please Bucky in any way he wishes.
Bucky fondly watches him leave for a second before he leisurely strides to their walk-in closet, stripping off his T-shirt and jeans in favor of a skin-tight muscle tee and strappy combat vest, pulling on his favorite tactical pants to complete the look. He layers various knife sheaths and holsters on his torso and thighs, concealing them as best as he can— he knows Steve loves it when he draws out a knife from an impossibly hidden location.
He takes out the pistols that they exclusively use for scenes like this, ones he’s careful to always keep the chambers empty for. He double- and triple-checks them just in case, and flicks the safeties on as well, before tucking them away into holsters strapped around his waist. They haven’t been using guns very frequently during actual scenes lately, but Steve still loves the look of them, and Bucky likes adding them to round out his Winter Soldier attire anyways.
Catching a sight of himself in the floor-length mirror, he takes a breath to calm his excited nerves, making sure his gaze is cool and steely before exiting the closet and stalking into their bedroom.
Steve has dutifully donned his noise-cancelling headphones, and sits cross-legged on the bed with his back to the bed’s edge, facing away from the doorway and restlessly fidgeting with his hands. The headphones completely conceal Bucky’s already deathly silent footsteps, ones that Steve can still unfortunately pick up with his enhanced super soldier hearing without them on. With the headphones, Steve can fully give into the element of surprise and fear that Bucky knows he gets off on, and Bucky loves how it riles up Steve’s anticipation before the scene properly begins.
Back straight and eyes determined, Bucky slowly draws a wicked-looking knife from his thigh, creeping forward towards where Steve unsuspectingly shifts around on the bed. He has no idea that Bucky’s in the same room as him— for all he knows, Bucky’s still getting dressed or even electing to take a shower before starting the scene. Bucky likes to vary the timing before he enters their bedroom, keeping Steve on his toes and unaware of what he’ll inflict on him next.
Once Bucky is a step away from Steve’s broad, muscled back, he reaches forward with his metal fingers and encircles the front of Steve’s throat in one fluid motion, startling an immediate gasp out of him, his eyelids fluttering with surprise. Bucky raises his right hand to position the knife underneath Steve’s chin, and Steve lets out a desperate whimper as he feels the cold blade drag against his sensitive skin.
Bucky grips the band of the headphones with his teeth, tearing them off Steve’s head and dropping them gently on the bed. Those headphones were expensive, damnit, and he will not let his horny carelessness ruin yet another pair.
Lowering his lips to the side of Steve’s head, he rumbles deeply in Russian, “ I’ve got you, Captain America, ” directly into Steve’s ear. Steve shudders as his eyes spark with recognition at the moniker in the other language, shining with intrigue and fear and delicious, delicious arousal.
With the knife still pressed under Steve’s chin, the straps of Bucky’s vest dig harshly into his back. Bucky strokes the column of his throat with the coolness of his metal hand, sucking and biting at Steve’s ear and neck as he scrapes his fingertips down to his collarbones. Steve is still frozen in place, terrified to move lest the blade cut into his throat and draw blood from the arteries not far underneath the skin.
Bucky’s more than equipped to employ his knives safely— he’s sure to position only the flat of the blade towards Steve’s throat right now, in the case he stupidly decides to make a sudden movement. But Steve doesn’t know that. All he can feel is the cold, unforgiving metal of a deadly weapon in the Winter Soldier’s even deadlier grasp, and the uncontrollable, aching arousal tenting the front of his pants.
Bucky’s metal hand wanders lower and lower, tantalizingly stroking at Steve’s chest and ribs, before finally reaching in between his legs with a tight, unforgiving grip.
Steve resulting moan is almost guttural, and if Bucky wasn’t all over him he’d almost think he wasn’t enjoying it. His eyes are glassy with desperate tears as he blinks, staring straight ahead as he’s held in place. His hips give a subtle thrust up into Bucky’s hand, but the resulting shove of the knife closer to his throat makes him whimper in fear, his hips stilling even as his cock hardens further.
Bucky gives another gentle kiss to the shell of his ear, one last taste of the gentle, loving husband before diving head-first into his Winter Soldier persona.
He removes his metal hand from Steve’s crotch and instead grips the hair at the back of his neck, sharply yanking backwards and hissing out a command, “ Stand.”
Steve hurries to maneuver onto his knees and step backwards off of the bed, whining in pain as Bucky’s tight grasp on his hair doesn’t let up. Bucky gives one more tug for good measure, then lets go of him and says lowly, “Go and stand with your back to the wall.”
Steve stumbles to get in position, his knees already wobbly from the meager attention he had been given. His eyes shine with equal amounts of excitement and trepidation, the fear fueling his arousal even further.
Bucky examines the knife he had just held up to his throat, and lets out a sound of satisfaction when he spots a sheen of sweat coating the flat edge. Wiping it off on his vest, he throws it square into a target on the wall without even looking, and Steve visibly gulps. He stalks towards him as imposingly as he can, his eyes cold and laden with calculated threat.
He lifts his metal hand to wrap around Steve’s throat once again, Steve’s breath quickening as he gazes wide-eyed at the various weapons strapped to his chest. Bucky gives him a wicked smile before softly stroking his cheek with his flesh hand, and then he shoves his knee in between Steve’s legs.
Steve chokes out a groan as his eyes well up with tears once again, and this time he can’t control the way his hips grind helplessly into Bucky’s muscled, denim-clad thigh.
“That’s right, rub yourself all over me like the messy pup you are,” Bucky croons, leaning forward to bite at the meaty junction between his neck and shoulder. Steve’s hands fly up to grip at his waist, and Bucky abruptly stiffens up and cracks his human hand across his cheek—“No,” he spits out—the delicate skin already reddening with the impact. With his metal hand still wrapped around Steve’s throat and keeping him still, the impact is much more painful than if he had been allowed some recoil, and he relishes in that knowledge.
Steve just moans filthily, his hips stuttering against Bucky’s thigh and precum starting to darken the front of his sweatpants. His hands immediately drop down to his sides as if he’d been burned, and he looks utterly helpless as he pants against the vibranium grip around his neck.
Bucky can’t hold himself back a moment longer and leans forward to crush their lips together, Steve’s hands obediently resting down at his sides as he takes the bruising force head-on. He kisses back just as fervently, as if he needs Bucky’s touch more than he needs air, and Bucky uses his flesh hand to punishingly grip at Steve’s lean waist, momentarily forgetting about the arsenal of weaponry he has permission to use on this beautiful boy at his mercy.
He knows Steve can throw him off at any moment, incapacitate him with barely a flick of his wrist, but the warm, pliant body underneath Bucky’s hungry touch yearns only to please, to be an obedient plaything for him to lay his claim on. That knowledge fuels the unquenchable flame in his gut to burn even hotter, and he lets out a possessive growl into Steve’s mouth, shoving their sweaty bodies flush together against the wall.
Steve lets out a sort of strangled sound as Bucky reaches back to slowly unsheathe a knife, letting the cold metal whine as it exits its holster. Steve’s wide, terrified eyes know what to expect, yet Bucky spots the unmistakeable current of excitement and arousal running underneath the fear. He slowly, tantalizingly presses the blade against Steve’s side, right where his ribs meet the soft flesh of his stomach.
“I could kill you just like this,” he whispers, and a full-body shudder travels down Steve’s spine. “Just one slip of my hand… and the great Captain America would be no more.” Of course, Bucky’s far too proficient with a knife to let any actual injury come to Steve— his whip-sharp reflexes granted to him by the serum allow him to adjust the blade with Steve’s twitching movements so that it never risks puncturing his skin, much less harming the fragile organs lying underneath.
But, like always, the mere threat of his ruthless competence is enough. Steve whines and ruts agains Bucky’s thigh and gasps out, “ Please, sir. ”
Bucky tightens his metal hand’s grip around Steve’s throat. “Please what?! ”
“Please… please, I’m yours,” Steve rasps out in between his whimpers, his voice already sounding utterly wrecked. “I’ll do whatever you want, I can take it, I promise, oh God please I want it so bad. I’ll be so good for you-“
Bucky cuts off Steve’s rambling by wetly sealing their lips together again, and Bucky can barely make out Steve breathing out a chant of “ thankyouthankyouthankyou ” into the space between them. A searing rush of heat attacks his gut so suddenly that he almost blacks out with the sheer pleasure of it all, but he quickly regains his composure and manages to keep control over the knife precariously placed against Steve’s side.
Pulling back, he growls out, “Here’s what we’re going to do.” Steve’s eyes are wide and reverent as he gazes up at Bucky, mouth agape in his haze of arousal and submission. “You’re going to get on the bed. I’m going to make you fuck yourself on my cock. And you’re going to like it .”
Steve cries out, both at Bucky’s harsh words and the way Bucky shoves the knife harder into his side, his instincts kicking in as he weakly struggles to escape to no avail. Bucky’s thigh is still solidly in between his legs with the rest of his muscled body forcing him immobile against the wall, and Steve’s hands staunchly remain down by his sides where Bucky had commanded them earlier. “That’s a good pet, staying right where I put you,” Bucky coos. “Now are you gonna lie still and let me fuck you? Or are you gonna put up a fight and make this much more painful than it has to be?”
Overwhelmingly aware of the blade against his ribs and the vibranium arm threatening to cut off his breath at any moment, all Steve can do is nod stiffly and let Bucky manhandle him over to the bed. “On your back, I want to see what that pretty face looks like when I split you open,” Bucky drones, voice taking on a mockingly bored timbre, and Steve hurriedly lies back, legs splayed slightly open out of habit.
Like this, Bucky can clearly see Steve’s flushed complexion, the way his chest rises up and down as he breathes heavily through his arousal, his heady gaze following Bucky and Bucky only. He’s so eager to please, and not only because of the threat of violence the Winter Soldier has against him— even if all Bucky had was words, he doesn’t doubt that Steve would bend over backwards to obey anything he asked for.
Bucky climbs onto the bed, resting on his knees in between Steve’s spread legs, and grasps each of Steve’s wrists in his own before pinning them above his head, his gaze burning hotly into Steve’s below him. Steve just continues to whimper and squirm, and Bucky grins coldly at how much power he has over the other man.
Gripping both of Steve’s wrists with his metal hand, he uses the other to reach down slowly, tantalizingly, to unholster the pistol from the band on his waist. He holds it up between them and examines it dramatically, letting Steve’s eyes follow his motions. “This one’s kind of bulky to wear, so I think I’ll set it to the side while I play with you.” Steve’s eyes gleam eyes with anticipation, swallowing thickly. “I think I’ll keep it… righttttt… here .” Bucky sets the pistol down onto the mattress next to Steve’s restrained wrists, the gleaming black metal juxtaposing sharply with the crisp white sheets underneath.
“When I let go of your hands, you keep them there, understand?” Bucky says plainly. Steve’s eyes widen as he begins to understand the implication. The pistol—although its chambers emptied of bullets—is right within Steve’s reach, and he could easily grab it if he wanted to defend himself. Super-soldier serums don’t protect against fatal bullet wounds, after all.
Bucky is giving him the option of self-defense—the knowledge that with the gun there, whatever happens next is of Steve’s own volition. Of Captain America’s own volition. Because they both know that he’ll obey and keep his hands still, and in no world will he reach for the gun to “defend” himself. And when he makes that decision, the pistol resting next to him will serve as a constant reminder that he is choosing to let the Winter Soldier overpower him— hold him down and degrade him and fuck him. And, at his own request, he knows that Bucky will not be gentle.
Steve’s hot tears of humiliation well up and threaten to overflow as Bucky slowly releases the grip on his hands, grinning wickedly as Steve obediently keeps his arms up above his head. He pulls out another knife and swiftly cuts Steve’s T-shirt off of him, tossing the scraps to the side and turning his attention to working his sweatpants off of him, Steve helpfully lifting his hips up as Bucky tugs them down his legs.
He doesn’t bother to get undressed himself— he’ll unzip his pants to pull his length out eventually, but he knows that Steve gets high off of the feeling of straps and buckles digging into his skin as he gets fucked, and the knowledge that Bucky is still fully dressed while Steve is stripped nude. The pressure of the tight vest and holsters help keep him grounded and in character as well, keeping his Winter Soldier persona at the front of in his mind.
Steve’s boxers are obscenely tented, barely able to contain his hard length. He lifts his head up from the bed to look down pitifully at his neglected arousal, cock twitching as it’s finally released from one of its confining layers, but woefully still lacking any meaningful type of contact.
Bucky uses the knife to nudge at his cock, then licks a wet, slow strip along the underside of it through the fabric, starting from the top of his balls and making his way to the leaking tip. Steve groans, the veins standing out on his neck as his whole body tenses. When Bucky leans back and neglects to continue the stimulation, simply leaving the knife resting at the base of his cock while his eyes sweep over the rest of his exposed body hungrily, Steve lets out another whimper and subtly shifts his hips upwards, completely uncaring of the sharp knife within close proximity of his length.
Bucky promptly removes the knife and gives a sharp smack to his cock, Steve crying out in pain as his length bobs back and forth from the recoil. He trembles with desperation and urgency, and looks like he’ll start to cry in earnest if Bucky doesn’t start touching him again.
“Are you gonna be good?! ” he snaps out, and Steve whines and nods rapidly.
“ I’m sorry ,” he gasps out, voice trembling. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll be good.”
Bucky lays a soft kiss to his inner thigh, a quick moment of tenderness through the heavy haze of the scene, and re-sheathes the knife onto his thigh. He then sharply grips at the waistband of Steve’s boxers and rips them apart with his bare hands, the sound of the shredding fabric harshly contrasting with the soft sounds Steve is making.
Steve’s cock is gorgeous, red and hard and leaking, and it bobs up against his stomach as his boxers fall to pieces around him. It twitches visibly as Bucky eyes it, as if it can feel his attention on it and beckons him forward. Steve is whining again as Bucky blows a cool breath over it, clearly wanting for more contact but knowing that he’s supposed to keep still right now, eager to be good a good pet in whatever way he can.
Steve’s eyes are foggy and dazed, and Bucky knows that he’s falling deep and hard into the scene. He revels in it, the knowledge that he can bring his boy so far down with his full trust and acceptance of whatever he gives him. God, he loves him so much . He’s the most beautiful man in the universe, and Bucky struggles to catch his breath as Steve’s radiance hits him full-force.
Bucky brings his flesh hand up to Steve’s face, caressing his cheek gently before shoving two fingers into his mouth. Steve’s lips part easily and eagerly take him down to the knuckle, sucking hard on the intrusion. With a wet pop , he removes his fingers and holds his palm up to his mouth, commanding, “ Lick ,” and Steve licks a hot stripe up the meat of his hand.
He promptly reaches down and wraps his entire hand around Steve’s cock, and he keens with the suddenly overwhelming contact, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily once more, accompanied by a whimper when he fears retaliation for his transgression. Bucky chooses to forgive him this time, just cooing, “Aww, I know it’s a lot, this pretty cock suddenly getting so much attention. You’re about to cum just from me stroking you with your own spit, is that right?”
Steve thrashes his head left and right, the only part of his body he’s allowed to move right now. “Please, sir, I want more ,” he whines, any sense of shame fully disregarded in his haze of desperation.
Bucky subtly clicks open a bottle of lube behind his back, coating the fingers of his metal hand thoroughly as he continues to provide long, slow strokes on Steve’s cock. “More, you say? Now, I can’t deny you there,” he crows as he brings his wet fingers forward to rub Steve’s exposed rim for a mere moment before plunging his index finger deep inside.
Steve screams , going stiff for just a breath before he’s fully liquid in Bucky’s hands again, writhing and trying to fuck himself harder onto Bucky’s finger. “Please, please, I want your cock so bad, I deserve it, I’ve been so good for you, sir, please ,” he moans out, the twin stimulations on both his cock and hole inducing peaks of pleasure within him.
“I know, doll, I’ll give it to you soon. A desperate pup like you deserves all my attention, don’t you?” Bucky continues to pump his finger in and out of Steve, adding a second finger after he decides enough time has passed.
Steve wails at the added feeling of fullness, but it still doesn’t feel like quite enough. He stays still and just takes Bucky’s slow pace, trembling with anticipation and desire.
Before Bucky adds a third finger, he pulls his digits out and grips Steve by the hips, roughly pulling him up and flipping him over so that he’s propped up on his knees. He shoves Steve down with a steady hand between his shoulder blades, so that his face rests down on the mattress and his arms collapse beside him. He bends both of Steve’s arms at the elbows and overlaps his forearms solidly behind his back, pressing down on them to keep Steve’s chest in contact with the bed and forcing him to arch his back while his hips remain raised.
Bucky unceremoniously adds more lube to his fingers and nudges three of his them at Steve’s puckered rim, growling, “Now, doll, I’m not gonna keep doing all the work for you. I’m not moving my fingers one bit— I want you to fuck yourself back onto them. Can you do that for me? Prove that you have what it takes to have my cock?”
Steve makes a sobbing noise at how exposed and humiliated this position makes him feel, in addition to the idea that he would have to debase himself further by actively penetrating himself, all so he can continue feeling that pleasure he so chases. The cold metal of Bucky’s hand prods harshly against his entrance, but they refuse to extend any further than a couple centimeters in.
Steve takes a deep breath and starts shifting his hips backwards, groaning when the movement forces the intrusion further into himself. He pants as he takes the thickness all the way in, then leans forward to begin a slow but steady pace of the digits thrusting in and out of him.
Bucky’s length fights hard against the constraints of his pants at the sight of Steve desperately fucking himself back on his fingers, Bucky not having to move an inch to continue preparing him for his cock. As the slight sting of the stretch gives way to pleasure, Steve releases small, panting moans every time his fingers bottom out inside of him, and he rotates his hips to search for that sweet spot inside of him.
Bucky cruelly turns his fingers so that Steve never hits his prostate while fucking back onto him, and after a while Steve seems to catch on to the purpose of his subtle movements, crying out with frustration as he seeks that spark of stimulation yet fails to achieve it every time. “Poor baby, what’s wrong?” he coos, thoroughly knowing the answer to his question.
“I need more ,” Steve cries out, still thrusting his hips avidly onto Bucky’s fingers, the lube making wet squelch ing sounds as they pump in and out of him. “It’s not enough .”
“I have practically my whole hand inside of you right now, and you’re still asking for more?” Three fingers is hardly a whole fist, but knows that Steve appreciates the feeling of debasement. Steve whimpers out a vague response, and Bucky pulls his lube-coated fingers out of reach of Steve’s entrance and wipes them lewdly on the meaty curve of his thigh.
“Well, since you asked so nicely, might as well give it to you,” Bucky sighs with exaggerated frustration, Steve frantically shifting with hips at the sudden emptiness. But when he hears the zipper of his pants and feels the tip of his cock line up with his rim, he stills and mewls out an urgent plea.
“C’mon, pet. Aren’t you gonna come get what you asked for?” Bucky grins evilly, right hand still gripping Steve’s forearms behind his back tightly. Steve falls silent for a moment, confused, then starts to cry as he realizes Bucky expects him to fuck himself back on his cock as well. To penetrate himself on the Winter’s Soldier’s girth and fully prove how badly he wants all of this.
Skin flushed with humiliation and desire, Steve slowly, slowly moves his hips backwards, spearing himself on Bucky’s thick cock. He moans gutturally as his entrance sucks in the widest part of his tip, then continues to shift backwards until he takes the entire length in, panting while taking a moment to adjust to the intrusion.
Bucky grants him only a few more seconds of reprieve before sharply smacking his ass with his metal hand, the crisp sound reverberating throughout the bedroom. Steve yelps and trembles underneath him, and Bucky snaps, “Get on with it. Fuck yourself.”
Steve whimpers and starts properly moving his hips, and Bucky watches his girth pull in and out, moaning as the wet heat provides a generous suction on his cock. He can’t help but grind his hips subtly into Steve’s ass as well, giving him a little help in his endeavors.
A few more minutes pass like that, Steve’s thighs tensing and straining with the effort of keeping his hips propped up while being held down so completely, letting out hiccuping whines and moans each time he bottoms out once again. Bucky feels the heat in his gut grow, but Steve’s current slow pace isn’t nearly enough for it to peak quite yet.
He leans forward, shoving his cock solidly forward into Steve, being met by a sharp gasp in response. He grips Steve’s hair roughly, tugging his head to the side and licking a thick stripe up the beautiful tendons of his neck. It tastes vaguely salty, sweat and skin tinged with the delicious musk of Steve .
Biting at the shell of his ear, he snarls, “Not fast enough, doll, I’m taking over now. And you’ll sit pretty underneath me and take whatever I give you, won’t you?”
Steve cries out desperately, a string of “yesyesyes please I can take it please” rising on his lips. Bucky pulls his cock nearly all the way out before plunging it back into him, nailing him square on the prostate and Steve go completely tense under him, a wordless scream leaving his throat.
“Holy fuck , did you just cum?” Bucky says incredulously, beginning to laugh at Steve’s bewildered and ashamed expression. He releases his grasp on Steve’s forearms and reaches down to scoop up the wetness in between his thighs, raising his hand back up to press at Steve’s lips. He dutifully sucks them in, cleaning his own cum off of his fingers.
He cruelly shoves his fingers in further, and a shift of his hips remind Steve that Bucky is still buried up to the hilt inside of him. He squirms with overstimulation, and Bucky murmurs out, “Color?”
Steve immediately responds, “Green,” a little garbled around Bucky’s fingers, and looks over his shoulder at Bucky with a cheeky grin. Without missing a beat, Bucky pulls his cock back out and begins to slam in at a breakneck pace, Steve shrieking with oversensitivity and thrashing in his grasp.
He doesn’t safeword, though, and Bucky grins and takes it as permission to continue teasing him. “I didn’t say that we were finished, did I? You can cum as many times as you want, but we’re not done until I’m satisfied.” Steve moans brokenly, Bucky’s fingers still held fast inside his mouth. He’s not holding Steve’s arms behind his back anymore, and they’re splayed limply at his sides as he lets himself be thrown around while Bucky fucks hard into him, his balls slapping loudly onto Steve’s lube-wet perineum on every stroke.
“Did Captain America really cum while being fucked on the Winter Soldier’s cock?” Bucky quips out between his own groans, feeling his arousal growing and nearing close to its climax. He pulls his fingers out of Steve’s mouth and reaches underneath him to grab Steve’s cock, already re-hardening after his previous orgasm. Steve whines with oversensitivity, trying to thrust his hips backwards and away from it, but he has nowhere to go— it only thrusts Bucky’s cock deeper inside him as he continues to hungrily pound into him.
Bucky drives his thumbnail into Steve’s slit, squeezing another garbled scream out of him. “I asked you a question, Captain,” he growls.
“Yes, sir,” Steve slurs out weakly, “I came on your cock, please, it feels so good, thank you for your cock, sir. ”
Bucky lays a soft kiss onto the knobs of Steve’s spine. “That’s more like it, pet. Now, can you cum for me one more time?” He begins to stroke Steve with his spit-slick hand, and Steve thrashes again, out of pain or pleasure or both.
“I- I can try,” he moans out, tears spilling over beautifully onto his cheeks.
“You will ,” Bucky says simply, before speeding up his thrusts even more and gritting his teeth to try not and cum before he intends to. He times the strokes on Steve’s cock to his thrusts, and it isn’t long before he feels Steve’s telltale tensing, and then Steve is wailing and shuddering through an orgasm once again.
Steve’s clenches around Bucky’s cock leave him gasping, and a couple more thrusts have him finishing deep inside of Steve, Steve mewling softly at the feeling of the wet warmth inside. Bucky pulls his softening cock out gingerly, careful not to disturb Steve’s bruised rim too much, and Steve promptly collapses down onto the mattress, panting heavily.
“Babydoll, you there?” Bucky murmurs softly, his hand gently brushing Steve’s golden strands away from his face. Steve just gazes over his shoulder at him with utter adoration, and Bucky’s heart skips a beat in his chest at how gorgeous this man is, and God he loves him so, so much.
“I’m here,” Steve rasps out, his voice hoarse from how much he’d been screaming. He reaches out and yanks Bucky by the shoulder down onto the mattress with him, disregarding the sticky mess in between them and insistently tucking his face into Bucky’s vest-covered chest, gripping Bucky’s wrist so that he doesn’t remove his hand from his head.
Bucky giggles, a sound so light and giddy that he’s a little surprised that it’s coming from his own mouth. He just dutifully scritches his hand through Steve’s hair, and Steve responds with a pleased noise that sounds suspiciously like purring. He wraps his other arm around Steve’s warm form, nuzzling his face into Steve’s hair and breathing in deep.
His boy is in his arms. He’s warm, and solid, and real, and Bucky is so, so happy. Tears prick at his eyes with how thankful he is for this radiant man in his arms, at how Steve belongs to him and Bucky belongs to Steve in the exact same way.
Bucky knows they should get up and clean the mess on their chests and on the mattress, but he just focuses on gripping Steve tight, and somehow it feels like he’s holding the entire universe itself within his arms.