I offer you dom bottom Bucky riding the fuck out subby top Steve in these trying times 🤌🏻
The thin, unbending bars of metal forcing Steve's hungry jaws open wide—bearing his teeth and all the soft, vulnerable parts of his mouth—have long since ceased to be cold. It's been in his mouth for far too long to not be red-hot, burning with his fever and amplifying the sizzling-hot noises that just keep coming out of him. They're pouring out of him. Slipping out like all his drool, whimpers and guttural moans slide over his swollen, buzzing lips spread so wide open by the spider gag locked around his otherwise untethered head.
His head is anywhere but on his shoulders. He is so fucking locked into this moment, but, also, Jesus Christ, Steve is somewhere else. He is in the fucking clouds. Spinning and spinning and spinning. He doesn't know which way is up or down, forward or back.
It's getting to him.
Fuck, it's been getting to him.
Just the gag is enough to make him melt—he knows what it means whenever Bucky puts something in his mouth. Especially when that something is a gag. But the exposing mortification of being gagged has been sinisterly added to, multiplied by, the input of tight, hot, wet flesh clenching around his throbbing, stiff cock and the aching, hot points of silver clamps around his nipples, forcing them into even harder points of dizzying clarity. Altogether—
Christ.
He is beyond melted.
He's not in human form anymore, with his mouth stretched open, ready for fingers, cock, toys, or anything Bucky gives him, his heavily lidded, nearly shut eyes, and his panting, heaving lungs, Steve is a puddle.
He is the same as the slippery puddle of his over-pouring spit on Bucky's chest underneath him.
He can't stop drooling.
He can't modulate his own volume. Uh! UUH! UNGHH! He's fucking all these sounds out of himself.
He can't control the eager, sloppy thrusting of his hips, pelvis harsh against Bucky's plush ass. The brilliant level of coordinated effort he's able to make is… not cool or suave. He's a fucking kid on prom night, losing any concept of self-control as he gets his cock wet for the very first time.
He can't—
He—
HAA-AH!
Itfeelssogood.
The messiest, neediest part of Steve wants to blabber on, crazed as he goes on and on, thrusts and thrusts and humps, moving erratically and talking with every sloppy, racing thought that dashes through his liquified brain. Yet, he can't. The gag. All that drool. He can't talk. That's too complex. He doesn't need to talk. Bucky can talk enough for both of them. He wouldn't know what to say anyway. He doesn't even know what Bucky wants. He's a cock with legs to Bucky. Walking sex. Whenever and wherever he wants. It doesn't matter.
Steve wants to be used. He'll do anything Bucky pleases, that pleases him. He needs to please Bucky.
Speaking of, underneath him, making his own debauched, lewd noises of pleasure, deep and groaning, much more controlled and less often that Steve's but all the more sweeter for it—Bucky shifts his weight, groaning, adjusting the white-knuckle grip he has on the back of his knee to hike his leg higher, wanting the angle deeper, arching for the electric, overpowering pleasure of direct prostate stimulation. Steve whimpers. He loves how much Bucky knows what he wants, what he needs, and will just take it. It's irresistible.
Take it.
Bucky echoes his crazed half-formed thoughts with actual words. ‘Cause he somehow still has those. “C'm—mmmhh—c’mon,” he trails off to pant for a moment, his face handsomely pinching into even more intense pleasure as Steve wriggles, trying to get deeper with what's left of his fried brain, “I know you c-can do it, Stevie. Oh, oh Steve, yeah—get that fat cock in this tight hole. Work it in me, baby.”
Steve whines.
His cock is so fucking achy inside Bucky, clenched on so tight he's pretty sure he's going shatter into a million pieces. He wasn't built to feel such pleasure. He's going blind, white-hot sparks in his vision becoming a shield shimmering white. A mirage.
Bucky clicks his tongue, “it's hard, I know it's hard,” he teases, mock pitying him, poor, desperate thing, “but I want it.”
He wants it.
Steve knows he wants it.
He was led into bed by the cock. He knows it. He needs to provide. He needs—
He wants to melt further into him. He could soak into the outrageously attractive flush high on Bucky's cheeks like butter on toast.
He's too much.
So handsome.
His stubble-rough, sharp jaw, the curve of his bitten lips, the fuck-me-steel of his eyes, the messy halo of his dark hair curling around him, spread across their pillows, his, his—
Him.
Steve gurgles around spit and need. He needs him. He needs him so bad it's making him fucking useless—it always has. He's weak for Bucky.
And Bucky understands.
Without a fuckin’ fuss, Bucky decides he's had enough of playing with his food, bored of love taps and teasing swipes, Bucky decides it's time to pull out his fucking claws. He goes for blood, executing a neat flip to pull Steve's weight underneath him, conquering his lap and putting the thick muscle of his thighs to good use.
OH!
Steve writhes beneath him, his hips involuntarily kicking up into Bucky's tight hole. The simmering-hot sweat on Steve's back glues him to the sheets just as his dazed eyes glue themselves to Bucky's chest, staring at him lecherously. The mark Steve's submission has left on Bucky, that puddle of drool—
It's rolling wetly, messily, down Bucky's chest, traveling between his furred tits.
Steve's spit.
In the exact moment that Steve's stupidified brain works enough to connect back to his own tits— nipples clamped and agonized—Bucky claps his metal hand down hard against Steve's chest. He's on top. Asserting himself. Blasting Steve: pleasure and pain.
OH, GOD.
Steve would love to claim that he shouts, he yells, he uses his broad chest and makes a big, masculine noise, but, no, he squeals.
It hurts.
Ohfuckme. It huuurts.
Tears bombard Steve's hazy vision, making it all the more useless. He can't see. He doesn't need to see. It doesn't matter one way or another because his unseeing eyes are rolling back so far it hurts. And, more, he can't stop himself, he's curling, soles of his feet cramping, he's arching, his spine flexing, he's reaching, his head thudding back into the dented pillows underneath him. He's so fucked. Bucky's hole clenches his cock, too tight. Bucky's thighs squeeze his waist, too hot. All that strength. All that power.
Bucky has him.
Steve is strained, the lust-engorged veins and strong, underlying muscle in his arched, bared neck complain, stretched too far as he arches. His delicate skin pulls and pulses. He is on fucking edge. But after just a second—
The dam, creaking and bowing, breaks.
It is catastrophic and erotic. The release. Rushing, surging out. Water.
Pleasure.
Steve suddenly, brokenly, relaxes into the onslaught of pleasure and sparking pain. It is all he can do. He lolls like a rag doll. Taking it. Letting Bucky ride him. He's just a toy. He's a dildo, that's all. He doesn't need to speak. He doesn't need to think. He doesn't need to do anything. Bucky will talk enough for the both of them, praising his cock, degrading his body for how useless it becomes the moment his dick gets wet, then praising Steve's brain for being too sweet. Bucky will do it. Bucky will take care of it.
Bucky. Bucky. Bucky.
Steve doesn't even want to cum, despite his balls being so fucking heavy and tight and denied, he just wants Bucky. He is most desperate for submission—submission to Bucky.
The tears start to roll, boiling and bubbling with sobs, as they make their way down his fever-flushed skin—
rils your smutty one liner prompt list you reblogged, consider this: steve DOES say this without making the connection. bucky starts snickering from underneath him and steve's like aw buck come on....
LAV OMG SJDHKJSADKL!!!!!!!!!! YOU ABSOLUTE GENIUS, THIS IS PERFECT SKAJSKK 💕💖💕💕💖
Imagine they've been at it for a while.
Steve's got Bucky exactly where he wants him, how he wants him: like sweet, pliant putty in his hands. Letting Steve fold him in half on their big soft mattress, gasping when Steve catches his legs by the back of his knees and pushes them up to Bucky's chest, spreading him up for Steve's cock and Steve's gaze to have him, devour him, feast on him like Bucky's the only food he'll ever need to consume.
Bucky can't bite back a soft little moan when he looks up at Steve leaning over him, a sheen of sweat glistening across his golden skin, dampening the whorls of Steve's chest hair and the burnt gold hair at Steve's temples. He watches the subtle flitting of Steve's abs, flexing with every purposeful thrust of his hips, and feels his whole body light up from the inside, fingers clutching helplessly at the rumpled sheets under him.
He all but sees it when Steve decides that oh, he's gonna draw this out, he's gonna make it last as long as he possibly can, milk every last drop of pleasure out of this that Bucky's willing to take.
Steve's pace slows to a torturous rhythm, his gaze locked with Bucky's with intent, watching him hungrily while he sinks inside, one maddening inch at a time, sliding in deep, deep enough to let Bucky feel him, feel the hard, blood-hot, throbbing shape of him opening Bucky right up like it's just what it was made for, thick and heavy and glorious just like the rest of Steve is.
And then pulling back out at his leisure, slow, slow, slow, and slick and all sorts of perfect while Bucky's body clenches around him, tries to hold onto him like it never wants to let him go.
The drag of it is so delicious, it has Steve gasping and wetting his swollen, slack lips with a flicker of his pink tongue, and there's a hunger in his eyes, a need, a fever that makes Bucky wonder if Steve can taste him every time he licks his lips, if he can still feel the weight of Bucky's cock on his tongue even now, while he's up there between Bucky's spread legs, tall and aglow and magnificent like the first sun that ever kissed the earth.
If his mouth is watering, if it wants back on Bucky's skin -- if Steve's starved enough for him that he'll sink his teeth in the meat of Bucky's shoulder the second he gets the chance and lap at the fresh pink bruise with his tongue after, sloppy and needy and filthy like a french kiss, tasting his own mark on Bucky’s smooth skin.
Steve's hands grip his hips, his blue eyes fixed on Bucky's face, roving over every inch of him they can reach, the wet tip of his cock kissing the pucker of Bucky's entrance like he's asking for permission before he slips back in easy and sweet and relentless--
And that's when Steve suggests, in a low rumble, that maybe. Maybe he should keep this up until Bucky's forgotten every word that's not Steve's name. Maybe he should just keep at it for hours, fuck Bucky slow, so slow, sink into the butter-soft give of Bucky's flesh over and over, and over, giving him just enough to keep Bucky aroused out of his mind, his skin on fire, his lungs melting with each hot breath, but never quite enough to push Bucky over the edge. Not until Bucky's so desperate to have it that he's begging for it.
"Whaddya think, sweetheart?" Steve husks, his voice warm, rich; dark and irresistible, like every decadent pleasure life has to offer. "D'you want that? Think you can take that?"
The hot skin of his hips presses flush against Bucky's ass when he bottoms out, the searing length of him deep and snug inside Bucky like it belongs there and nowhere else, and Bucky feels molten, feels like the moment before fireworks burst up in the sky, those charged two seconds of complete quiet before fire and colour bloom into the night, the anticipation building up and crawling like a shiver up his spine.
"Steve," he breathes out, gasping with his mouth wide open when Steve's cock brushes up against that spot inside him with exquisite purpose.
"'Cause I can do that, baby, I can give that to you," Steve rumbles on, a bead of sweat pooling invitingly in the hollow of his throat. "Give it to you just the way you like it, fuck you so slow, so fucking deep, Buck, wet you up till you’re dripping with it, make you come till you can't see straight anymore, till I gotchu all sweet and messy and melting right into these sheets."
And Bucky wants it, wants it so bad he's writhing under Steve's hot hands, chanting, "Steve, yes, yes--"
"All you gotta do is say the word, baby. We've got all the time in the world, and I'm only just getting started," Steve says, moving sinuously above him, inside him, everywhere Bucky's senses can reach, the greedy curl of his smirk something Bucky will see in his dreams. "Trust me, sweetheart-- I can do this all day."
Bucky hears it through the well-fucked haze in his brain, the slow molasses of pleasure dripping hotly down his spine, and when his glossy eyes snap up to meet Steve's -- well, he thinks that's when Steve hears it, too.
Bucky's chin starts quivering. His chest shakes with barely restrained giggles, until he knows he can't hold back anymore.
Steve's eyes grow comically wide. His hips halt immediately, the tips of his ears quickly catching fire, they flush so red. "Wait, no, that's not what I--"
But Bucky can't help it, he's bursting with it, erupting into laughter, cackling so deep that his belly his shaking, sending little zings of pleasure to his system when it jostles Steve inside of him.
"You actually said that," he wheezes, tears springing to his eyes even as he squeezes them shut tight, head thrown back against the pillow 'cause he can't fucking breathe, "I can't believe you actually said that, oh my god--"
"Buck, c'mon," Steve groans above him, one shovel-sized hand covering his eyes, looking about three seconds away from combusting from sheer embarrrassment. Bucky’s not letting him forget about this one for a long, long time to come, and they both know it.
(they still fuck afterwards btw. the fucking is just delayed by like 10-15 minutes, after which Bucky's pretty sore from all the laughing - but not opposed to getting sore from other things as well. Steve-shaped things. Steve's dick-shaped things.)
Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers share a love story for the ages.
Their list of "ship" names has grown! "Stucky" of course, the beloved originator. Lurking on social media and in various fandom spaces, we've seen these precious boys fondly known as: Barnes and Noble, BuckySteve, Stars Aligned, Starbucks, SteveBucky, WinterShield, and even Beve!
We've also seen various fans on Bluesky, Twitter, and here on Tumblr use: WinterStar, StarKiller, ShieldKiller, and NobleKiller. Those last three are super clever and we as fellow readers and fans of magical school thrillers can appreciate that!
We see those three and "raise you all" WinterKiller as a possible two winter soldiers or hydra!cap and ws!bucky scenario with Winter being Bucky but Killer being Steve in this case; whereas before Star, Shield, and Noble referred to Steve.
Our actual proposed ship name for a version of Bucky and Steve is... you guessed it, Halcyonian Love! (Specifically for Top!Steve Rogers/Bottom!Bucky Barnes) We thought it would be pretty cool to use our own event name to coin the ship name. To be honest, we could go even further and use "Those Boys of Winter and Summer" too!
With all that being said, we look forward to what the rest of Cycle 1 of this mini bingo holds! Be on the lookout for something special at the end of the round.
Thanks for your time, sweetheart!
Halcyonian Love Mods
TL,DR: We are coining "Halcyonian Love" and "Those Boys of Winter and Summer" as the ship names for Top!Steve Rogers/Bottom!Bucky Barnes.
Rating: Explicit (E)
Pairing: Stucky Supersoldiers
Word Count: 1.7K
Tags: Hyperspermia, Dirty Talk, Bottom Bucky, Top Steve, Humiliation, Verbal Humiliation, Happy Slut Bucky, Anal Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Not Quite Subspace but Kinda? Boys in Love, A Whole Lotta Come
A/N: I went with the twist of Steve being able to come for a long time rather than a lot at once. This is one that I've held onto for quite some time and am happy to share and take back. I love writing these two and I should more often. I hope you love. 💜
“Buck...Bucky…”
Bucky knows it’s about to happen by the way Steve’s breath hitches, by the way he sounds like he’s barely keeping his head above water even as Bucky holds him steady with the riptide current that is their second round.
He almost thinks he himself will come a third time from just the sight he’s met with, his balls aching and his core clenching up when he looks up to see that tell-tale wrinkle between Steve’s brows, the pout of his bottom lip as he pants. Bucky could easily get wrapped up in this, could come from this alone, watching Steve fuck him, watching the way he reacts to the feeling of Bucky inside.
He knows that’s what tends to send Steve sailing as well, getting swept up in this endless yet building thought of being inside of Bucky: the privilege, the warmth, Bucky’s noises, the tightness, the intimacy, the savagery, the privilege—
Fuckin’ sap.
Bucky will never love anyone more.
“There it is. Come on, baby,” Bucky pants into Steve’s bottom lip, hands squeezing those tits together in such a deliciously rough manner, two full fucking handfuls. Steve shakes his head with yet another hitch of his breath, collapses down further onto Bucky, damn near folding him in half. The bend of his body, the give of it underneath the weight of Steve, makes the grip of his ass vice-like right around Steve’s cock. Bucky hears Steve’s reaction to it before he feels it himself, a gorgeous gasp in the crook of his neck followed by a basement-deep moan.
“Buck, I...it’s gonna...oh fuck…”
Rarely is Steve ever so entirely lost in fucking. He tends to stay present, is so totally and intensely focused on Bucky’s pleasure, is selfless in every way but especially in bed. This is different yet familiar. Steve pants into his whines, alongside each punch of his hips. He reaches down with both hands to grip at Bucky’s ass, hold onto it, as he ruts into it and fuck yeah— Bucky is definitely going to come again if they keep this up.
Bucky is a sap for watching Steve lose all semblance of control for and because of him.
“It’s mine, big guy. Give it to me, Steve. Wan’it…”
With another sob, a growl, a dig of his knees into the bed that has that sweet spot inside of Bucky singing, Steve shakes his head. Bucky is about fed up with this fight he’s insisting on putting up but then—
“Buck, it’s...it’s big.”
Oh.
They’ve never figured out what sets him off.
The two of them have come up with and tested a plethora of different theories throughout the years: diet, abstinence, porn, sex position, mood, etc.. They’ve tried their hand at altering these varying aspects with purpose and stumbled upon others accidentally, but all without success.
This is just how Steve is after the serum—
He sometimes comes a lot.
Bucky isn’t surprised really; Steve has always had large orgasms. He’s always felt them from head to toe, has floated away and left Bucky behind momentarily as he allowed himself to feel, always shook and shivered his way through them until he damn near collapsed. The serum only enhanced that about Steve, made him more sensitive. Sometimes Bucky genuinely feels sorry for him, takes pity on him for feeling things in such great amounts, but pity is such an underlying feeling compared to his own arousal at witnessing one of Steve Rogers’ orgasms.
Or being a part of it.
His edges soften somewhat but his determination thickens right alongside his dick. He winds his arms around Steve’s neck, runs his fingers through all the sun-kissed tendrils he can manage, tugs. He puts his mouth right at his doll’s ear, holds onto him where he can, pitches his voice in just the right tone that’ll seep through all of that sugar-spun sweetness.
“You better gimme that big fuckin’ load, honey.”
The noise Steve chokes out is pitiful, damn near embarrassing— so fucking hot. It’s enough to get Bucky right there, to shove him up to the edge of that cliff once more as Steve shoves him up the mattress with the force of these new thrusts.
“Bastard,” Steve gasps and that’s as much of a fight he has left before he too meets Bucky there on the precipice of pleasure and they leap together.
No one makes Bucky come like Steve does. He’s got a hair-like trigger for this kid, always has. Bucky gets hard from just looking at him, from watching him talk. Bucky shoots off like a teenager when Steve is inside of him and this third time tonight is no different. But Bucky can’t focus on his own orgasm, on the way his own dicks spurts between them and surely dirties up those pretty tits of Steve’s, he’s pressed so close to Bucky. His moans are disguised as chuckles, happy and slutty as he reaches down to take hold of that Georgia peach in both hands.
“Mhmm, yeah— gimme what I want, big guy. Y’fillin’ that fuckin’ ass up, ain’t ya?”
Steve sobs into Bucky’s shoulder, biting down on it, digging his teeth into the meat of it with the same ferocity that his hips dig into the underside of Bucky’s ass. It only spurs Bucky on, his own pleasure fading into waves, receding from his body; this is about his babydoll.
Steve’s hips go from kicking and twitching to rolling smoothly after the first minute, the most extreme pleasure of his orgasm subsiding but not disintegrating. He is slow with it then, slow with slipping his cock in and out of Bucky’s ass, pumping him full of come in a way that has Bucky clenching down on his cock, doing his part and milking Steve for everything he’s worth. He can’t help but shiver when he reaches for Steve’s neck, sucking on the salty skin there.
“Watch it, baby. Come on, know you wanna, you filthy fuckin’ thing— take a look.”
Steve’s whine sounds like pure agony. Bucky knows Steve well enough to know that noise is a goddamn lie. When Steve sits up, stutters and slips on his knees when he doesn’t dare stop the pump his hips, the first thing Bucky gets an eyeful of are those flushed tits coated in his own come. He can’t help but moan at the delicious sight, lean up on his own elbows to reach and swipe a metal finger through the mess, to pinch at that pretty pink nipple. Steve doesn’t even pull away or hesitate when Bucky presses his come-slick finger between Steve’s lips.
“S’a good fuckin’ boy, goddamn,” Bucky husks out as he watches Steve suck his fingers clean before popping them free from his mouth with another moan, tapping him on the chin with them. “Come on, pal— look. Watch.”
There are few sights as pretty as Steve looking down between Bucky’s spread legs, watching himself pump Bucky full of more and more come. He’s embarrassed for no fucking reason, this Bucky knows, but it almost makes it better, hotter. Hands on Bucky’s waist with a grip that is gonna leave him bruised, eyebrows knit together fiercely, mouth dropped open as he pants, half-lidded eyes glued right to where his dick twitches and pumps Bucky full— Bucky’s never seen anything more erotic.
He brings his hand down to his own balls, gives them a good tug and then moves them out of the way, frames his ass, Steve’s cock, with both hands.
“You makin’ a mess outta me, Stevie? Yeah? Thank god I ain’t a broad, huh? You’d knock me right the fuck up with all that hot come.”
“Buck…!” Steve just about squeals, and then he’s at it again, his eyes rolling as he tips his head back, hips bucking and kicking erratically, fucking into Bucky with newfound vigor that makes Bucky’s eyes want to roll back in kind. He just groans in encouragement, reaches for Steve as his locked elbows give out, grip on Bucky’s waist no more as he all but collapses down onto Bucky with this new wave of his orgasm. He hikes his own hips up, body greedy for every extra drop of spunk Steve wants to give him.
“B-Buck, it’s...holy shit,” Steve tries, arms on either side of Bucky’s waist, one grabbing for his raised leg, but Bucky doesn’t give him the chance to finish, reaching for his mouth. He doesn’t even beat around the bush, reaching for Steve’s tongue the moment his mouth is opening, tongues beating together lazily in a way that has Bucky’s toes curling.
“Fuck yeah, it’s so much. Ain’t it, baby? Good thing I’m a dirty fucker and love you fillin’ me up, makin’ me all heavy and full’a you…”
Steve sounds exhausted when he groans, shoves his face into the crook of Bucky’s neck, his legs trembling as he presses them forward, moving with his orgasm. Bucky scatters the side of his face with kisses, wraps his arm around Steve’s neck as he lets him take solace in the crook of his shoulder. He can’t imagine what this feels like, what Steve goes through when this happens. Surely it’s overwhelming, to feel so much and have an orgasm for so long. Bucky is almost envious.
A few quieter minutes pass, ones full of whimpers, of pushes and pulls of Steve’s hips, of huffs that Bucky wants to bottle up and save for later, before Bucky starts to feel the bottom of his ass grow sticky, the lewd and wet sounds of Steve fucking him messy. One, two, three clenches, rhythmic pulses of his asshole has Steve exhaling roughly into the underside of Bucky’s chin, his hand coming up to blindly reach for Bucky’s neck.
“You still goin’ at it, big guy?” Bucky asks and Steve does what he can to pick his head up and nod, eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed, absolutely gone for it and blissed the fuck out. He’s beautiful like this. He whimpers when he sees the smile on Bucky’s face, shakes his head down into Bucky’s chest again as he tries to not giggle alongside Bucky.
“Buck, you know I can’t...ngh, can’t help it,” Steve mumbles but Bucky is quick to squeeze the back of his neck, to hush him with a sharp noise and a kiss to his forehead.
