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#d/s dynamic
deniedbetahusband4 · 2 days
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solodeiresti2 · 2 days
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I wanna be owned. Want someone to use me and treat me like a toy. Demand i send you pictures of my body because it belongs to you. Demand I post about just how good you fuck me so everyone knows I'm yours. Praise and degrade me for being such a slut. Your slut. Confuse my little brain and make me depend on you because at the end of the day I don't actually need to think. Cause little cumdumps like me don't have to worry about being smart. Want to be put in my place whenever I get a bit bratty. Make me play with my pussy until my thighs are jerking from overstimulation. Pick my clothes and my jewelry for the day to day because all I am is a pretty doll for you to dress up. Tell me exactly how you want me to talk and to act and just please make me a brainless mess for you.
Please I wanna be owned so bad.
(my dms and asks are always open)
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📖"Temporary Custody"
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky
Word Count: 4861
Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange
Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.
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Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, mental illness, and alcohol abuse.
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Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost
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10. S'mores
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It’s the “sex play” (God, that term is so cringe) thing being on the table that builds the tension in the apartment, all of them knowing about it but none of them talking about it. Mary sure as shit doesn’t have the guts to break that ice, and now Bucky’s always deep in thought and quiet around her. And Steve, well.
Steve is like a big, mopey golden retriever who knows its humans are upset but doesn’t know how to help besides headbutting things affectionately.
Mary’s feelings for him only grow when she realizes that he really hasn’t told Bucky about that night in the kitchen: the things she’d confided about the razor and her nightmares and sneaking out to the gym. Knowing that Steve’s stuck by his word like that makes her like him and trust him a whole heck of a lot more. 
But it doesn’t solve the underlying problem. 
There’s a court hearing in front of a judge next month to revisit the custody arrangement—Next month. And one afternoon while Bucky’s out of the apartment, Steve gently informs Mary that Dr. Linda is recommending the order be extended. Jesus fucking Christ. 
And then the results to that test Linda made her take, the “Submissive Sexual Interests and Tendencies Assessment”, arrive in the mail (addressed to Bucky, because of course they would be), and Mary gets her hands on them after Bucky and Steve read them, and she’s mortified at what it says about her.
Tendencies: Passive aggression (reactive aggression in lieu of submission), emotional outbursts, low self-esteem, impulsive sexual promiscuity, self-harm, alcohol use disorder, possible co-morbidity (OCD, EDNOS, BDD). Dynamic Preferences: single dominant authority figure, structured domestic routine, service, discipline, monogamous relationship, emotional bonding. Recommendations: Following assessment review, patient is most likely to benefit from continued domestic control in a consistent (24/7) environment. Transfer of custody not recommended. Continued therapy sessions and educational courses at CDP highly recommended. Most beneficial therapeutic modalities include limited corporal discipline, sex play, and reward-based service routine.
There’s a ton of infuriating psycho babble bullshit packed into those results that she could get upset about, and she does, but Mary’s eyes track over that one, most-horrible phrase over and over again: 
“Transfer of custody not recommended.”
Fuck.
She loses sleep over it, sneaks out of the apartment in the middle of the night and does cardio at the gym until she’s exhausted enough to head back home and pass out. It pisses her off that this is such a thing now. She doesn’t want to be special needs, she should have the right to choose whether she even wants treatment or not! She resents the hell out of Bucky and Steve for having custody of her the way that they do. They’re clearly expecting her to blow up or something, after the news from Linda and the SSITA results come in. It’s so obvious that they’re walking on eggshells around her, Mary halfway wishes they’d just do something. One way or the other, it’d be better than this.
Linda claims that they’ve expressed “positive feelings” about a sexual dynamic, but if they have, they sure aren’t expressing it to Mary. She suspects that most of that positivity has come from Steve, and probably only because he’s a golden retriever in human form who just wants to do what’s right and good, not because he or Bucky are particularly attracted to her.
While she has managed to clean herself up quite a bit since moving in with them, Mary isn’t delusional: she realizes that Steve and Bucky are very attractive men, whereas she’s just average. She tries to tell herself she’s fine with that. She knows Bucky and Steve could probably get like, a supermodel to sleep with them if they really wanted to. Mary’s not in their league, and that’s okay. 
But if they’re not attracted to her that way then they should at least have the decency to just say so! At least then she could find someone else, get back on Tinder, or even sign up for one of those ProDoms that the CDP has. Darcy said Thor was good, so maybe Mary could request him? The way that Darcy had described the guy, he sounds like he's a hunka hunka burning Nordic god. Mary could go for that.
She brings it up casually over dinner, framing it lightheartedly, and Bucky literally crushes his water glass in his prosthetic hand. “What?” he snaps, frowning down at the mess he’s just made. “No.”
Mary huffs and goes to fetch the desserts while Steve gets the waste bin and begins scraping the broken pieces of glass into it like it’s just another Tuesday. “I don’t see why not,” Mary complains from over at the counter. She’s pulled the plates out from the fridge and grabs the butane torch for the meringue.
“Jesus,” Bucky exclaims when he sees the industrial sized torch she's wielding. “Where’d you get that?”
Mary purses her lips as she focuses on achieving the perfect amount of toastedness. “Hardware store,” she mutters. “So why can’t I go see one of the ProDom’s again?” She purposefully over-torches Bucky’s meringue, because she can tell that this isn’t going to go her way. “Sounds like a win-win. You don’t have to deal with me, I can meet new people, and insurance pays for it. What exactly is the problem?” She’s trying to force him to admit that he doesn’t want to Dom her sexually, trying to get him to see that something’s gotta give and he’ll have to let her use one of the ProDoms eventually if that’s what the severity of her “condition” requires (gigantic ‘Ew’). 
But frustratingly, he refuses to engage with her on the topic. “It’s a no, Mare,” he tells her sternly. “Pros are for people who have more experience. You don’t.”
Mary seriously doubts that. “Linda didn’t say that,” she argues, carrying the plates over to the table and handing the nice one to Steve and the burnt one to Bucky. 
He pulls it closer to himself and raises an eyebrow at it. “Linda’s being diplomatic,” he mutters. “I thought you said you were making s’mores?” 
Yesterday, Bucky had been talking with Steve about how much they both missed their old camping trips they used to take. The two of them must’ve waxed poetic over campfire s’mores for ten whole minutes. So Mary thought this would be an excellent way to butter them up. Apparently not.
She sniffs and picks up her fork. “They are s’mores. It’s a plated dessert, Bucky. An interpretation. It’s not literal.”
He grunts and peers at his portion, poking it dubiously with his fork. “What’s it made of?”
Mary heaves a sigh and snottily recites: “Honey Sablé, 70% Valrhona cremeux, cold-smoked Italian meringue, torched ‘mallow, Graham crumb streusel, and tempered chocolate stick for garnish." Both Bucky and Steve stop poking at their plates and just stare at her for a second. 
“Sounds good,” Steve chirps, and digs into his.
Mary stares Bucky down, until he too, deigns to eat the apparently too fancy for him version of a  s’more. “Oh, damn,” he says after the first bite, looking taken-aback. “I can taste the smoke.”
Mary preens, then asks again about the ProDom. “Well if I’m not getting it there then who the heck’s supposed to fuck me?” she winds up blurting out of frustration.
When that direct reference doesn’t elicit any response from Bucky besides a barrage of bossy instructions for after-dinner cleanup, Mary loses a bit of the hope she’d been holding onto that maybe Linda was right about them being attracted to her. She just gave him the perfect fucking opening, and he didn’t take it. She gets the kitchen cleaned up from dinner, resigning herself to another evening of platonic domination that doesn’t quite hit the spot. 
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Nightly drops are nice. Not as nice as they were in the beginning, the effects having waned quite a bit from what they once were, but still better than no drops at all. 
Mary sits on her pillow on the floor, head on the couch cushion next to Bucky’s thigh, listening vaguely to the sound of the television while she enjoys the feeling of his fingers carding through her hair, lightly massaging her scalp. It’s been a while now, and she doesn’t think she’s going to get any deeper. It’s late, already they’ve watched two full episodes of their show, and Mary’s got work tomorrow. It’ll be bedtime soon. 
A big yawn works its way up in her throat, and Bucky chuckles when it finally breaks free. “Tired?” he asks.
“Mmhm.” She inhales deeply and sits up, sleepy and squinting. It takes a moment before her eyes adjust to the darkness of the room and Bucky’s form sitting right in front of her. Wow, she’d been really close to him, hadn’t realized just how close. Had she been … hugging his shin? God, she hopes not. Not like she hasn’t spent whole evenings fantasizing about rubbing her face all over his thighs and his— Nope. Not gonna think about that when he’s sitting right there. She tears her eyes away and forces that train of thought to stop right in its metaphorical tracks. 
“You good, Hon?” Bucky asks, his soft voice drawing her attention back from her own head. She looks up and sees his fond expression, his relaxed posture. Wonders if he’s in Domspace at all. Probably not.
Then her eyes land on the line of his cock at the front of his pants. 
He’s hard. Not very, but some. Underneath his sweats his dick is chubbed up enough that it creates a slight bulge against the fabric. Mary freezes, staring for too long before she’s able to tear her eyes away. When she does, and she looks up, Bucky’s watching her with an inscrutable expression. Her breath catches and her mind goes absolutely dumb.
Does he want ..? Should she ..?
She looks back down at it, at the relaxed splay of his thighs. She wets her lips and thinks about reaching forward and sliding her hand over it, what it would feel like, if it would twitch, if Bucky would shiver or make a sound. She wants to touch it, and seriously considers doing so, but when she looks up at Bucky again, he doesn’t look like he’s excited, or anticipating her touching him. He looks … resigned. 
“Tired?” he asks kindly. "Do you maybe ... Do you need anything else tonight? From me?"
Mary's lips part, heart leaping at what that might mean ... but then Bucky looks over at Steve with visible yearning in his eyes, and the two of them share one of their silent conversations, brows pinched and expectant. 
Oh. Right. Bucky’s just horny and eager to get Steve into bed, wants to wrap this up. Mary wonders if he really can’t tell that she's not far down like she used to get. Maybe he thinks this is all she needs and he really isn’t going to take Linda’s advice seriously. Mary should be happy about that. After all, it’s what she wanted. Isn’t it?
She balls up the hand that she’d been imagining touching Bucky with and nods. “Yeah,” she says. “Yeah, I’m tired. Think I’m gonna … go get ready for bed.”
She glances over at Steve, but he looks mopey and eager to get out of the room just like his husband does, cementing the notion in Mary’s mind that they don’t want to be with her that way. No doubt they will if push comes to shove, because Linda’s told them Mary needs a sexual dynamic, but it’s not something they’re excited about. Mary knows men: They’re not the sort to sit around and wait for a girl they like to make the first move. And certainly not a man like Bucky, of all people. 
She tries not to be hurt by it, but still gets a little weepy while brushing her teeth, the unintended rejection stinging more when she’s down in the tingly, vulnerable throes of subspace. She spits, rinses, flosses, rinses. Grabs the mouthwash that she hates to use but that Bucky has ordered her to always use after brushing her teeth at night. 
She says goodnight to Steve and Bucky through the safety of her closed bedroom door, and despite her voice being warbly, neither one of them knocks on the door to see what’s up. That drives the point home, and Mary tucks herself into bed with the mindset that she’ll let them know they don’t have to sleep with her just to be nice or to help her or whatever. She’ll just find a way to convince them that she really is fine with going to one of the ProDoms, and that it really is a better arrangement.
Better than a pity fuck, at least.
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It’s disappointing to know that Mary prefers the ProDom, that she doesn’t want to make their relationship sexual, but Bucky gets it, and he knows that he shouldn’t be surprised. He’s not exactly an easy person to get along with, after all. He’s prickly as fuck, grumpy, bossy, selfish. And aside from her natural submission, Mary’s personality clashes with his horribly. Steve is essential, but he just isn’t enough to successfully buffer between the two of them—not enough to make her want them that way, at least. 
Bucky can see the profound disappointment in Steve’s eyes that night, as Mary doesn’t react the way they were both hoping, doesn’t take the offerings Bucky puts out.
They have to let it be her choice, of course, having planned it out and discussed it between just the two of them. It's all anybody ever talks about in the D/s community these days: making sure subs are the initiators at key moments like this, not letting domination creep in and become manipulation-so easy to do with how naturally vulnerable and people pleasing submissives are. Gone are the days when Doms like Bucky were encouraged to guide new partners in the "right" direction. That leads to too much trauma, too many subs in situations they don't really want. Mary has to be left to make the choice on her own, it's her right.
But it's still the hardest fucking thing for him to do, to just sit there and wait passively. And it still stings when she looks straight at his erection and declares that she’s ready for bed. Well, if it wasn’t clear before.
Steve looks like a friggin’ kicked puppy, as he stands outside of Mary’s closed bedroom door and bids her goodnight. Bucky nudges him in the direction of their own room and murmurs, “Come on, Sweetheart.” 
In their bedroom, they each get undressed. Steve continues to mope, so Bucky goes up to him and places a hand on his shoulder and rubs. “Hey. Don’t sulk. You’ve still got me.” Steve’s mouth twitches in a small smile and Bucky’s heart flares with fondness for him. “You wanna play a game?” he offers, leaning in and kissing him once on the lips. “Mm?” He looks down pointedly to both of their boners that haven’t completely lagged since tv time ended.
“Okay.” 
Bucky hums and turns, putting his left shoulder out. “Lend a guy a hand?” Steve obliges. He removes the prosthetic arm with practiced motions. Bucky moans quietly at how good it feels to get the heavy weight off. “Fuck.” He rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck each way with a blissed out groan. “Yes.”
“You’ve been wearing it more than usual, lately,” Steve points out, going over to set it on the table at Bucky’s side of the bed. “Why?”
He already knows: Bucky can tell from the way he asks it. He grunts and looks away, refraining from answering. He normally only wears the arm to work and to the gym, skipping it around the house or when he’s just got simple errands to run. There’s a surprising amount he can do just fine without the use of two arms, and he’s been confident about being seen in public without it for a long time now, thanks to Steve and their friends at the V.A. Being self conscious about it again after all these years isn’t something Bucky wants to admit out loud or think about, but Steve isn’t stupid. He can put two and two together. 
“Babe,” he says softly, walking back over to stand behind him. He wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist and noses into his neck. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Bucky inhales deeply. “I know. I’m not.” Steve makes a sound that clearly says he doesn’t believe that. But Bucky doesn’t want to talk about it, so he reaches back with the only arm he has to grab playfully at the side of Steve’s ass. “Go in the bathroom. Get the water going how I like.”
Steve groans and thunks his forehead against the back of Bucky’s neck. “Not that game,” he complains, though there’s no conviction to it. He slinks off towards the bathroom to go do as he’s been told. “I hate that game.”
“Fuck you. You love that game.” 
Steve shoots him the finger from over his shoulder, but something about his naked body and tight little ass being on display strips the gesture of its animosity. He disappears into the bathroom and Bucky walks over to their bedroom dresser to grab a hair tie, still snickering. He sobers when he takes one from the valet tray and realizes that he’ll have to have Steve tie his hair back. That’s one thing he never could figure out how to do one handed. He stands there and looks in the mirror above the dresser, studying the left side of his body in a way that he rarely does anymore. 
He’s gotten so used to it: his life with Steve, whom he knows down to his bones accepts him unconditionally. He’s almost forgotten what it feels like to be self conscious about his body. Bucky hasn’t known how to talk about it, and Mary hasn’t asked. She’s seen him with his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, or in tee shirts at the gym, but that’s all so far. Sometimes he’ll catch her looking, but he’s got no clue what she’s thinking. He considers his reflection, looks at the scars and puckered skin, the implanted base of the arm where his stump used to be. He doesn’t like the uncomfortability of being critical of his body again. In a way, he almost resents Mary for it, for making that feeling come back after all these years. Silly, he knows. 
“Babe?” Steve’s voice calls out from the bathroom. Bucky’s ears register the sound of rushing water. “You coming?” 
Bucky inhales deeply and decides it doesn’t matter anyway. Mary wants a ProDom, not them, so he doesn’t have to stress over what she thinks about any part of his body, let alone the one part he doesn’t have.
“Yeah.” He turns his back to the judgmental mirror and heads towards his very non-judgmental best guy.
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“Okay. Stop clenching.”
Steve exhales shakily, but he does obey, body slumping back against the end of the tub as he relaxes his muscles. “Fuck,” he breathes, overwhelmed.
“Hand too, Baby.”
His hand abandons his dick in the bathwater. “Ungh.”
Bucky smiles lazily and rubs the side of his foot against Steve’s hip in praise. “Good boy.”
They’re in the bathtub together, opposite ends, legs tangled. Their combined bulk displaces the water all the way up to above their shoulders, but that’s part of the game: they’re not allowed to splash on the floor, so they can’t jerk off very hard or fast. First one to splash water on the floor is the automatic loser and has to bottom the next time they fuck (Bucky added that little caveat because he’s very good at not splashing, whereas Steve is hopelessly clumsy and overeager ). “How you doing, Sweetheart?” he asks, drinking in the sight of Steve with his lips parted, chest heaving, squirming. He’s pink from temple to tits, flushed from the bathwater and arousal both, and Bucky loves it. “You’re not close already, are you?” he tuts, grinning. “So sensitive.”
“Buck,” Steve croaks, heated eyes dragging over Bucky’s body at the other end of the tub where he’s still gently jerking himself off. “Please.”
Bucky affords himself another toe-curlingly good swipe over the head of his dick before he nods. “Okay. Slow. Just like me”
Steve huffs and wraps his hand back around himself, stroking his dick in slow, measured strokes, just like Bucky said. Bucky’s guts warm and another heady rush of dominance swirls low in his belly at watching Steve do exactly as he says. “You can start workin’ it again, too,” he says.
Steve moans gratefully. “Thank you. Fuck.” His abs start clenching, his body straining again with visible tension as he works the Aneros that’s seated up inside him. Under the water, his knees move in and out in that instinctive motion as he tries to rock it just right. But it’s hard to do it with the water so high, and more than once he catches himself and holds back at the sight of the bathwater sloshing precariously close to the lip of the tub. At one point he gasps and his eyes slam shut, and Bucky figures the toy must’ve shifted to press even more directly against his prostate. 
“Ooh, does that feel good, Stevie?”
Steve peeks his eyes open, glaring across the way at him. “You know it does.”
Bucky does, in fact, know exactly how good it feels—because he’s got another of the exact same toy inside of himself, right now. “I don’t know why you still agree to play this game,” he taunts, grunting from the effort of holding back his own moan as his prostate gets a firm prod from the head of the toy. “You—nngh—you always wind up losing.”
“Yeah, well …” Steve’s throat bobs as he swallows heavily. “Maybe I don’t mind you coming out on top, sometimes.”
“Sometimes,” Bucky scoffs, but he’s breathing heavier than he was thirty minutes ago, his composure slipping the longer he works the toy inside himself and jerks himself off agonizingly slowly underneath the water. In fact, he’s not even sure it even counts as jerking off at this slow a pace.
Edging is something he’d introduced Steve to early on in their relationship, as soon as he’d realized how delightfully sensitive his new boyfriend was. And Steve, the big idiot, had worried Bucky wouldn’t like it, had actually thought of it as a negative! An absurd notion that Bucky promptly disabused him of. Watching his ungodly sexy blond behemoth of a husband whine and squirm and struggle to hold himself in check is one of the fucking hottest things Bucky’s ever seen—and he’s seen a lot. He’d been a bit of a manwhore back in his heyday, racking up the bodies as he fought to find himself as a Dom and accept the body an IUD had left him with.
Steve, his overly-sensitive, glorious hunk of a then-boyfriend, had helped him to do both. And it’s times like this where Bucky remembers just how goddamn lucky he is. Having Steve to love and fuck around with feels like the best gift in the world. 
At the other end of the tub, the water sloshes as something he’s done to himself makes Steve’s breath hitch in another helpless moan. He tosses his head back for a moment, eyes clamped shut as his expression crumples beautifully and he whimpers. Bucky’s ass clenches down hard in arousal at the sight, which only makes the toy in his ass rub over his prostate that much better. His cock throbs as his pleasure flares dangerously high. Fuck, he wants to come. 
Licking his lips, he decides it's time to end this. His balls are pulled up too close to his body, taut and full and aching for release. Trying to school his breathing into something resembling nonchalance is a lost cause, and his face feels almost as flushed as Steve’s looks right now. Bucky decides to call it, because even though he’s the automatic favorite to win this game every time, he is capable of losing, if he gets too caught up in ogling Steve’s body and reactions and doesn’t focus enough on playing his cards right. “Okay,” he finally says, smirking when Steve’s head jerks back to attention, his irises visibly flaring in excitement. “Yeah, Baby. It’s time.”
“Fuck.”
“You ready for the home stretch?” He waggles his eyebrows and lets his head rest back against the tub, spreading his legs wider and keeping his eyes on Steve. “Gotta keep up,” he instructs, even though Steve already knows how this goes. When Bucky tightens his hand and speeds up the pace of how fast he’s jerking himself off, Steve copies him. That’s how it is at the end of this—totally-rigged-in-Bucky’s-favor—game. They both jerk off at the pace that Bucky sets, and the first one to splash water on the floor or come is the loser. It’s not very fair, but Bucky never claimed he was a fair guy. He is, in fact, selfish as fuck. 
Lucky for him, Steve’s into that.
“Fuck,” Steve pants from his end of the tub. He slides down lower, keeping more of his body under the water in an attempt to prevent splashing. It’s a futile effort, though, because he’s doomed to lose anyway with the faster pace that Bucky’s set. Already, he’s going lobster red in the face, brow pinched and desperate, knees knocking the sides of the tub as he compulsively works the toy in his ass. 
The arousal in Bucky’s gut coils tighter at the sight. “Watch my hand,” he warns, when he notices Steve slacking off. “Gotta match it, Baby.”
“I am.”
“Tighter,” he says, eyes gleaming. “And stop avoiding the head. I can see you cheatin’ over there, Punk.”
Steve whimpers, and Bucky knows that he really wasn’t going as tight as he is, because Steve’s hand changes its hold and he starts getting the head of his dick with the same intensity that Bucky is. Bucky grins open mouthed, panting. “Atta boy.”
“You should—ugn.” Steve grimaces. “Should get a penalty, for being cut. I should get an extra, nnnh, th-thirty seconds, at least.”
Bucky laughs, because trust Steve to think of a sportsman’s solution to the inequity of their dicks. Steve being uncut means that it takes less intense stimulation for him to come. They both know this, Bucky loves this, and again: he never claimed the game was fair. “No penalty,” he grunts, speeding up his pace even further. Steve’s eyes widen but he matches it. Bucky grits his teeth. He can hold out long enough. Steve’ll blow in seconds at this pace. 
And sure enough, it’s not even twenty seconds later when Steve is crying out, body tensing and muscles straining gorgeously as he seizes up and starts to come. “Agh!” His knees fling out hard and hit the sides of the tub, splashing water over the lip to the floor below. But he hasn’t even noticed, he’s so lost to his orgasm. His asshole is twitching, sucking on the Aneros as the contractions of his body pull the toy up against his prostate again and again, drawing the pleasure out. He shoves down hard in the water and shouts louder, as though he’s getting a second orgasm on top of the first. “Ohnfuck …” 
Bucky groans as he watches it happen: Steve’s gorgeous face and juddering hips, big hand wringing up hard underneath the head the whole way through. The fucking sounds he makes, Jesus wept. It’s leagues better than any porn Bucky’s ever seen. “Fuck, Baby,” he praises. “Yes. Fuck that’s so hot …” 
Steve’s hand keeps working the whole way through, only abandoning his cock once it’s fully spent and softening, the cloudy ribbons of his cum floating away in the bathwater. “Fuck,” he exhales hugely once it’s done, letting his body go lax and slump so far down that only his face is above the waterline.
Bucky grunts and spreads his legs wider, not heeding the splashing rule now that he’s already won. The water splashes precariously as he shoves his hips down and down and down, squeezing the shape of the toy inside so fucking perfectly. Fuck, it feels fucking good working over his spot like that. “Oghnnn,” he pants, grunting and groaning and jerking his cock hard. “Fuck, Baby. You’re so fucking pretty. Fuck. M’gonna cum …” 
Steve gives a sated hum from his end of the tub. Bucky can sense him shifting in the water, and then gasps when he feels the ball of Steve’s foot gently press up on his balls. His eyes fly open and he looks down. “Oh, shit,” he whispers. “Fuck, fuck.”
Steve grins and rubs his foot against him. And Bucky doesn’t have that fetish, but there’s something so fucking perverse about seeing Steve’s toes up against his balls that it turns his brain to mush anyway and pushes him right on over into orgasm. He shoots off beneath the water, stroking and thrusting and moaning—and probably splashing water all over the floor just as badly as Steve ever has.
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c-and-matteo · 2 days
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come on, angel. put your soft little mouth to work.
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nobelisha · 8 months
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bro OVERSTIMULATION???
like think about it. really think about it. just cumming and thinking you’re finished but they just keeping going. and it starts with protests and then you’re shaking with pleasure pain. twitching, sniffling, and trying to get away but they won’t let you escape so you resort to begging and pleading. ah stop please im sorry im sorry please just— anything to get away, but then the crying starts and that only encourages them to see how messy you can truly get.
just,,,overstimulation is so hot
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spicytartwrites · 3 months
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Surprise, I brought friends.
You show up at your dom’s house in your usual attire for a night of fun, but when you walk in you instantly know tonight is going to be much different than what you’re used to. All eyes are on you as you walk in to a room with three guys sitting like they’d been waiting for you. Your dom’s hand is on your lower back guiding you in gently.
“We’re having a little Barbeque, forgot to tell you.”
His tone is flat, giving nothing away but you know better. Feeling unsure of the situation you follow him to the kitchen and give him the *what the fuck* gaze as he nonchalantly chops veggies for the grill.
“I told a couple of my friends what a goddess you are when you’re on your knees and they wouldn’t believe that you were that good, so I told them to come see.”
His hand gently strokes your cheek and his thumb trails across your bottom lip and you suck it into your mouth knowing whatever his plans are you’ll go along with it.
"You're not gonna let me down, are you?"
Your thighs begin to tremble and you can feel the stickiness building beneath the slutty lingerie under your dress with anticipation. It wasn't planned, only ever joked about. As he fires up the grill you’re set to making sure everyone’s got drinks and that there is a steady supply of blunts in rotation. You can hardly eat, the nerves of the situation are causing you to squirm around on the couch while everyone else eats and watches the game on the tv.
After plates have been cleared up another round of drinks and blunts starts, you’re sitting next to your dom with your hand on his thigh and you realize that he is unzipping his zipper and pulling out his cock. Nobody seems to be paying attention and you look at him as he guides your eager mouth to his cock. You watch it begins to grow hard in anticipation of your lips and you can’t help but smile knowing how bad he wants to show you off.
“Go on goddess, do your thing.”
You look around and take a deep breath, slowly you wrap your lips round his cock and start to lick and suck the exact way you know he likes. It isn’t long till he’s moaning with his hands on your hair, you’ve moved from the couch to your favorite spot between his knees on the floor. You’re moaning watching his reaction as your talented mouth works his cock. You could cum watching his face while you worship him. His hand cups your chin and pulls your mouth off him and you continue to stroke his cock with your hand.
“You gonna show my guests a good time?”
You look around and realize two out of the three guys in the room have now also taken out their cocks and have been watching you worship your dom with your mouth. Shyly you crawl over to the couch where one of them is sitting and look up at him, slowly you lick his balls and up to the head of his cock taking him in your mouth.
“Holy fuck, her mouth really is magic.”
Listening to the praise and compliments the two guys are swapping, talking about how amazing your mouth is, makes you even more eager to please. You crawl over to the third guy and repeat the process watching as his eyes roll back when your tongue swirls around the throbbing head of his cock. You spend the next half hour crawling around on the floor between then tree men while his other friend sits back and watches. Every one of them praising you and your pretty little mouth. So eager to please, licking and sucking like each cock like the gift that it was.
At some point you feel your panties being pulled to the side, looking back you see your dom on his knees behind you watching you suck his friend’s cock with a proud grin. He slides his dick deep inside you making you gasp while his friend is in your throat, you feel him pounding into you deep and hard making you lose yourself as you almost instantly cum from the built up need. His best friend’s cock still hungrily pounding into your throat. He growls in your ear.
“I told you when I met you, I’d turn you into a little slut.”
You spend the rest of the night getting passed between the three men in varying combinations all while the guy in the corner watches. At one point each one of them takes a turn with you in the room one on one, your dom going last. He’s gentle at first, asking if you had fun, kissing and praising you. Telling you what a good girl you’ve been while he kisses and licks your sensitive pussy. Then to remind you who that pussy belongs to he fucks you out of your mind, hard and fast pounding in all positions. Tossing you around like you’re nothing he uses you exactly as he needs, his primal growls driving you feral. You claw at his skin, sink your teeth into his flesh, you cum wildly on his cock over and over again. You’re already a brainless mess from the last few hours of pure sexual debauchery, but by the time he’s close to finishing you’re face down in a puddle of drool and have no idea how long he’s been pounding into you. Pulling you onto your knees you greedily suck every last drop of your reward from his cock before he lets you rest.
You lay there on soaked sheets wondering how many sticky loads have coated you this evening, how many you’ve swallowed; your whole body is tingling, you lost count of the number of orgasms you had. As you’re drifting off you can hear the men in the hall talking about how amazing tonight was, their compliments about your performance floating through your head as you fall asleep.
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If you enjoy, please✨️gimme a lil love✨️
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subbyprincessb · 4 months
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Sorry I forgot to reply, I was making myself cum to the thought of you 💕
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bunnyflrt · 7 months
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nah nah but like the "treat her like a princess fuck her like a slut" concept. devotional doms. doms that love sinking to their knees for their sub and kissing your legs and thighs and giving you head until you cry. doms that service and obey everywhere but the bedroom. keeping their sub up all night, making you beg for every touch, then taking you shopping the next day and carrying all your bags for you, refusing to let you lift a finger. doms that worship, not out of submission, but out of a loving devotion. doms who will say the filthiest things when you're falling apart beneath them and then whisper praises up your body. doms that kiss your stomach, your fingertips, the insides of your wrists, the back of your knees, the small of your back, all before leaving bruises and marks all over your pretty body. doms who tie you up as if it's prayer, tracing the ropes along every inch of you. doms who fuck you like a whore but love you like a devotee.
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deniedbetahusband4 · 2 days
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queer-petplay · 11 months
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I keep getting doms in my messages and I just have to say: I don’t think even half of you understand the type of commitment it takes to have a submissive.
A true d/s relationship requires high prioritization. A submissive is trusting you to care for their emotions while you are wielding power of them. This isn’t a dynamic for someone who just wants kinky sex. You need to learn your submissive’s triggers, their trauma, their blindspots, and their nonverbal cues that they are past the point of being able to safe word. It’s not just about pleasure and getting off. You need to be prepared to reassure your submissive that they’re valuable to you as a person. Sometimes you’ll need to know that they need this when they might not know themself. Because to be a dominant is a power role. That power can easily become unbalanced and easily become abusive if you’re not constantly communicating and being conscious of the impact of your words and actions.
To any subs reading this: you deserve a dom who is educated about d/s and truly cares for you as a person. Have high standards. It can suck not to have a dom, but it’s so much more damaging to yourself and your future relationships to have a bad dom than it’s worth.
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bashfulbottombutch · 10 months
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I’m thinking about wetness checks 😳 about a Dom just coming to me at random throughout the day, pulling my pants off and knocking my legs open so they can push a finger or two into my pussy to see how wet I am
maybe they rub through my folds, maybe they tease me a little. perhaps they taste me, or make me taste myself. they might even finger me, hard and fast, to hear the pretty noises my pussy makes
but I’m not allowed to cum, definitely not, this isn’t for fun. this is to remind me who my pussy belongs to and to make sure it’s always ready for them when they want it
❌ this is for lesbians - men, minors, terfs can fuck off ❌
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dd-writes · 2 months
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Dom/sub who are into extremely hard kinks but are just goofy buddies in public
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sharpgothteeth · 1 month
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friendly reminder to everyone, me included:
having plans or being excited for sex with your partner(s) is amazing and fun, but don't let it get you down if the plans change for whatever reason.
we've been conditioned by all kinds of media to interpret "I have a headache" etc. as an excuse, a sign for a failing relationship, for a lack of communication, but that's usually not the case.
you can have bad health days, can be tired or sad or whatever! or? just not be in the mood for the scene you were talking about for days.
all of that is okay. it's fine. there will be other opportunities, there will be days you feel better, and it might be disappointing for all involved parties because you were so excited for it, but not letting yourself get pressured (or pressuring yourself) into uncomfortable situations is more important than a fleeting sense of disappointment.
I know I struggle with this often- and my partner is the most compassionate, kind, patient and loving person I've ever known! there's never any pressure from him. it's internal and I'm trying to actively unlearn these thought patterns so I thought other people might need to hear this as well 🖤
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oh to be sitting at my dom’s feet, my cheek leaning against their thigh, while they’re sat down and doing some other task. they gently stroke and pat my hair and mumble soft praises from time to time, and I get to be a happy mindless sub for a while
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subbyprincessb · 4 months
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Good morning ☀️
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