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Scott put his foot down, and said you weren’t allowed to tie the super soldiers up in the RV anymore. Bucky enjoyed being tied up immensely, and sometimes forgot his own strength. Scott’s last straw was when Bucky had torn a hole clear through the side of the RV because the RV gave before the handcuffs did. The band was waylaid for three weeks because Scott had to park it in a parking garage in Bumfuck, Nowhere while he hunted down the supplies he needed to fix it.
So Bucky makes Scott drive 250 miles out of his way to a BDSM club in Vegas where you and Steve could rent a room for a few hours to give Bucky what he wanted for his birthday, and spare any collateral damage to the RV.
The arrival in Vegas was delayed by three days because of Bucky and Scott’s petty bickering. Scott bitched about how pampered—how downright spoiled rotten—Bucky’s genitals were, and Bucky continually threatened to ride right on the goddamned dashboard with his cock out, just so Scott could get a real good look at exactly how spoiled it actually fucking was.
Scott was taking his time getting there just to be a bitch, which is ridiculous, because the whole reason for going was for his benefit—to spare his beloved RV. So you tell Scott if he doesn’t stop dicking around and get you there you’d stick your boot so far up his ass he’d taste the gum stuck to the sole. Then you’d threatened to park your boot in Bucky’s ass if he didn’t stop needling Scott constantly. His response was to growl, “Don’t threaten me with a good time, kitten,” but he’d thankfully moved to glowering at Scott from the couch for the time being.
Clint, Nat, and Steve take bets about whose ass would taste shoe leather first: Bucky or Scott. Nat’s money was on Scott and his wicked stubborn streak. Knowing what a pain in the ass Bucky could be once he was wound up, that’s where Steve’s money was. Clint had gone rogue, doubling down and betting it’d be both. He shrugs and explains, “Well, she does have two boots, after all.”
So, three days late, and one very surly Bucky later, you and Steve are unpacking a duffel bag full of supplies in a meticulously clean red and black room.
Impatient to get started, Bucky starts acting like a busybody and getting underfoot, so Steve tells him to be still, or he’ll cancel Bucky’s birthday entirely. Now he’s perched quietly on the chair in the corner, legs folded underneath him, watching with owlish eyes.
“Why don’t you help him undress?” Steve suggests to you.
Bucky pipes up, “I’m a grown man, I don’t need help undressing.”
“Shut your cock holder, Barnes,” Steve shoots back, bristling.
You pinch Bucky’s cheek and say, “Will you please just let us spoil you?” Then you baby talk, “It’s your birthday after all.”
“Not anymore,” he grumbles quietly.
You choose to ignore his remark, and tug his clothes off, piece by piece. Every item of clothing you take off of him eases the annoyed crease in his brow a little bit more.
“I’m almost ready for you, Buck. Why don’t you help our girl undress?”
You smile at Bucky angelically. “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about. C’mere, kitten.” He pats his lap, and murmurs a quiet good girl when you comply. He undresses you, but sprinkles a liberal amount of kissing and touching between each item of clothing he removes. You’re both giggling and grinding against each other by the time he’s done.
“Okay, okay,” Steve lifts you off Bucky, “that’s enough, children. You, here.” He snaps his fingers and points to you then a spot on the floor in front of him.
“Aye, aye, Captain.” A low growl rolls out of him at the title. You see he’s splendidly naked now too, and you give a quiet wolf whistle.
He helps you step into a black leather strap-on harness that he buckles around your hips, complete with a heavy purple cock that’s so thick you have to use both hands to get your fingers all the way around it, and so long it hangs nearly to your knees. Then he buckles a short knife in a sheath around your bare thigh. You’re giggling and bouncing around the room on the balls of your feet to test the new weight tilting your hips forward and subtly changing your center of gravity.
Several minutes later, Steve asks, “Dollface, can you bring me your panties?”
“Yes, Stevie,” you dig them out of the pile of clothes and take them to him.
While you were flouncing around playing with your new dick, Steve—operating with precision and efficiency—has put Bucky on his knees, and tied him up like a gift. Red and white rope twists around his legs, frog-tying his thick, muscular thighs to his calves, keeping him kneeling on the ebony hardwood floor. His arms are bound behind his back, forearms joined with navy blue and white rope, strapped down to his chest, each hand hanging below the opposite elbow. Another length of red rope knotted around his neck to fashion a short leash with a heavy duty carabiner hanging from the end.
“Bucky,” you gasp, “you look beautiful.”
Softly, Bucky replies, “Thank you.” He keeps his head down, a curtain of shiny chestnut hair falling around his face.
“We both have knives, dollface,” he pats the sheaths strapped to his thick thigh and yours, “your panties are in his hand. If he drops them, we cut him out of the ropes. No questions, no hesitation.” Steve’s the boss, so you nod. He’s already gone over everything with you, several times in the last couple days, but it’s important stuff, because even though Bucky could get out of the ropes if he really wanted to, he shouldn’t have to. In order to fully let himself go, he’s trusting Steve—and by extension, you—to take care of him.
“Watch,” he tells you. He pinches Bucky’s chin and tips his face upwards. Bucky’s eyes don’t follow his face upward, but hover somewhere around Steve’s navel. “Buck,” it’s low, sharp, and commanding, and when Steve says it, Bucky’s crystalline eyes snap up to meet his. His eyes are wide and glassy, gaze attentive and expectant. “Open,” Steve’s hardly gotten the word out and Bucky’s mouth falls open. He slips the ring of a spider gag between Bucky’s teeth. As Steve buckles the strap of the gag behind his head, you watch Bucky’s pupils blow wide, eating up the ocean of blue.
Steve runs a thumb bearing a crown tattoo over the sharp angle of Bucky’s scruffy jaw, knuckles tattooed with S L U T skritch through his short beard. “So good for us, Buck.” His eyes flutter shut and he nuzzles his cheek into Steve’s palm. Steve slips two fingers past the wide o-ring, and pushes them to the back of Bucky’s throat, digging for his gag reflex until he chokes wetly. His tongue pushes a runnel of drool over his lip to course down the scruff on his cleft chin and patter onto the wood floor.
“Now, our pretty girl is going to fuck you with her big cock, and if you’re very, very good for her I’ll get your cunt nice and wet and fist fuck it as a reward. Can you be good for us?” Bucky whimpers, a loud sound without the shelter of his lips to hide behind. He nods so vigorously a hank of hair falls in his eyes, and he tries desperately to shake it out of his face so he can keep his eyes on Steve.
Steve chuckles and removes the ponytail holder from his wrist, and starts to put Bucky’s hair into a half bun to keep it out of his eyes. To you he says, “You can go ahead. He put a plug in this morning, so just pull it out, lube up a little, and go to town. Don’t be shy either, he can take it.”
You nod at Steve, and bend to place a soft kiss on Bucky’s cheek. His eyes drift shut again, and he leans into your lips just enough to make your heart skip a beat.
Behind Bucky, you find a few supplies Steve has laid out. For you, there’s a bottle of lube and a bath towel. You kneel behind Bucky, tugging at the end of the thick black plug stuffed in his ass, you gently work it out of him. You drop the plug onto the towel, and drizzle some lube into your palm and use both hands to spread it over the purple dildo. You bracket his legs with yours and feed the thick head into Bucky.
A muscle in his flank twitches like he wants to push back onto you but is fighting it, and you smooth a hand over the shuddering muscle, quietly shushing him while you work your cock into him. The hair on the back of your neck stands up like there are eyes on you, and look up to find Steve watching you intently. One hand on Bucky’s chin to keep his face tilted up, and the other stroking over his leaking cock, precome dribbling off the heavy PA piercing, and bobbing inches from Bucky’s face with each stroke.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he says to Bucky’s upturned face. You nod, not realizing that he means both you and Bucky were astoundingly beautiful.
Loud groans issue from Bucky’s throat, as thick and sweet as treacle. When your hips are flush with his cheeks you make several firm, shallow thrusts and the meat of Bucky’s ass ripples with the percussive impact. Then you pull out nearly all the way to fuck back in hard, and the noises stop abruptly as Steve slides his cock past the o-ring in the gag. A thrill shoots up your spine, and your cunt dribbles slick. You never thought you’d be at this end of a spitroast, and you made a mental note to extravagantly thank Bucky later for wanting this for his birthday.
Bucky’s body is rocking backwards as Steve is throat-fucking him so hard it’s pushing him onto your dick. Steve starts to fuck his face in earnest, pushing wet glottal slaps out of the tight channel.
“God, fuck. So good for us, Buck,” Steve grunts.
“So good,” you echo.
Bucky gags thickly, and Steve grins down at him, “Yeah. That’s right. I fucking want you to choke on it.” He cups a hand around the back of Bucky’s head, and holds his cock deep in his throat. Your hips slap against Bucky’s ass pushing Steve’s length incrementally farther down his throat. Bucky tries several times to swallow around the intrusion, but it just makes Steve groan and grind his pelvis against Bucky’s face.
He holds him there like that for an impossibly long time, until, finally, Bucky begins to fight a little, struggling against the restraining hand. You wonder if Bucky is going to drop your panties, but his fingers don’t loosen around them one bit.
Still, Steve isn’t letting up. “I told you to fucking choke,” Steve growls through clenched teeth. A beat later, Bucky retches.
Baring his teeth, Steve snarls, “Again.” Bucky’s toes curl against your legs, and he loudly heaves. Steve lets out a rattling groan, and comes down Bucky’s throat before pulling out completely. Bucky’s head tilts down, and he coughs and hacks up a wad of foamy spit, come, and bile onto the floor. Some of it gets caught on the gag, and hangs messily from his chin in ropes. Bucky’s breathing is quick, wet, and painful sounding. His cock is excruciatingly hard, leaking a puddle of precome on the floor between his legs.
Steve walks to stand behind you, and gives a low hum of admiration. “Buck, you should see how amazing our girl looks right now. She’s doing such a good job. I bet it feels incredible. Doll, do you mind if I take a video?”
You watch Bucky’s hole clench around your cock when you breathily answer, “Sure, Stevie.”
Steve retrieves his phone from his pants, and fires up the camera. He starts filming farther behind you, and slowly pans over your shoulder. It’s a pristine view of your hips pushing the big purple cock in and out of Bucky’s messy hole. Steve’s fingers trace around his rim and he murmurs directions to you: go harder, and fuck him faster, and yeah just like that, with a groaned good girl, when you obey his orders. He flips the camera around to get a shot of your flushed and sweat-dampened face to go with the breathy moans you’re making. He turns his face into yours for a kiss, and you meet him halfway, your hips never faltering while Steve’s tongue plunges into your mouth.
“Okay, stop, doll,” he says after awhile, gingerly tugging your cock out of Bucky, “Nono, stay where you are,” he gently restrains you when you try to move away. He keeps his phone aimed at Bucky’s ass. “Get your fingers in there. Yeah, that’s good.” Steve directs like he’s producing an award-winning film, “Two’s fine. Like that. Yeah. Mmm. Use both hands. Spread them out. Open him up. Good girl. Fuck yeah. Just like that.”
You’ve got two fingers from each hand hooked inside of Bucky’s rim, and Steve has you pull him open, so he can get a good look at the gape you’d created with your thick dildo. He noses along your neck, to murmur in your ear, “See that?” He spanks Bucky’s asshole with his fingertips to watch it quiver. “You did that. You wrecked his cunt. Looks so fucking good, don’t it? That was all you, dollface. You fucked him so fucking good.” Hovering over Bucky’s ass with the camera zoomed in on his hole, he expertly hawks a wad of spit so it lands right inside of the gape. He chases it with three fingers. “You fucked him good, now I'm gonna get my fist in his guts and fuck him stupid.”
He unbuckles the harness around your hips and tosses the strap-on onto the bath towel. “But first,” he stands, dragging you up next to him, and hooking his chin over your shoulder. He takes up his camera again, aiming it at your face, “I bet you’re so fucking wet right now.” He dips his fingers between your legs. He hisses when he feels how soaked you are, pushes his fingers into you and makes your hips buck. He catches your wanton moan on camera, then directs the view to his fingers, shiny with your juices. “You’re fucking dripping, doll. I bet you wanna come.” His voice is low and husky in your ear and when you whine, you can feel the smile that curls over his lips.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he tosses his phone aside and offers you his hand, a gentlemanly gesture that seems out of place in a room where one of your boyfriends is tied up, and about to have your other boyfriend’s fist inside of him. He pushes you down to the floor in front of Bucky, and spreads your thighs wide. Bucky doesn’t move, but he’s eyeing your pussy like he’s starving for it. His face is a mess, dried tear tracks down his cheeks, drool steadily coursing down his chin, he looks absolutely ruined. Steve removes the spider gag, and tugs on the leash that dangles from his neck. He clips the carabiner at the end to a heavy o-ring embedded in the floor. This puts Bucky’s face a couple inches above your pussy. Close enough that you can feel his shaky exhales ghosting across your cunt.
“Tell him what you want, doll,” Steve says as he pushes his fingers into your pussy. He pumps his fingertips against your g-spot, and you moan. A desperate sound leaks from Bucky’s throat. “Tell him what to do. Use him to get yourself off,” Steve purrs in your ear. It makes you even wetter, eliciting obscene squelches when Steve’s thick digits push into you. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, you arch into him, and his fingers pump faster and faster. His palm grinds against your clit and your hips buck into his hand. Soon the quivering walls of your cunt are clenching down on Steve’s fingers, and you’re shouting his name while you come. Bucky is still hovering above you, a wounded look on his face, with a forlorn whimper trapped behind his lips.
Steve stuffs his slick-covered fingers into Bucky’s mouth, and his lips automatically seal around them, sucking and tonguing at them, hungry for a taste of you. He tugs Bucky’s leash until his face is flush with your pussy. “Tell him what to do. Use him,” Steve reminds you before he stands and grabs his phone again before disappearing behind Bucky.
Bucky’s lips are quivering against your cunt, but he doesn’t move to taste you. His eyes are on yours, and there's a soft and questioning look on his face. This is not at all the Bucky you’ve come to know. Usually handsy, commanding, demanding, he takes what he wants. Now you’re the one who gets to take, and it gives you goosebumps.
“Tongue out, Buck,” and you’re proud that your voice only wavers a small amount, and doesn’t belie how turned on you are. Bucky’s tongue slips shakily out of his mouth, brushing up against your folds. His eyes shut and he groans long and low at your taste. You grab the hair at the nape of his neck and pull his tongue deeper into your cunt. “Lick,” you moan as he immediately picks up the order, shaking his head side to side to get as deep as he can, slurping and tongue fucking your cunt like his life depends on it.
Steve is behind him, slicking up his fist, and pushing lube from a big jar into Bucky’s ass. He feeds four fingers into him and a shudder ripples up Bucky’s spine. After a few push-pulls of his fingers up to the web of his thumb, Steve adds his thumb by folding it into his palm and nudges his whole hand past Bucky’s stretched out rim. He balls his meaty hand into a fist and strums his knuckles against Bucky’s prostate until he sobs against your pussy.
You’re damn close to coming on Bucky’s tongue, but when he starts grunting rhythmically, you know you need to see what Steve is doing. You speed up your orgasm by making Bucky wrap his lips around your clit. When you come, Bucky slurps at your gash until you have to physically pull his face from between your lips using his hair. You scoot out from under him, and he lets his face sink to the floor, his cheek resting on the cool hardwood. Everything below his nose is shiny with your juices, and he’s mouthing the word fuck, but sound isn’t coming out of him anymore.
Steve told Bucky he was going to wreck his cunt, and that’s exactly what he’s doing. Steve’s using his balled up fist to punch-fuck Bucky’s ass: his fist coming all the way out of Bucky before punching back in. It looks brutal, but judging by the way Bucky’s drooling on the floor right now, you’d wager, if he could speak, he’d tell you he was somewhere north of heaven right now.
With the hand that isn’t wrecking Bucky, Steve is filming with his phone. When you sidle up beside him he sets it aside, and sinks his fist deep into Bucky, almost up to his fucking elbow, pushing a moan out of the kneeling man, like he’s Steve’s goddamned puppet. Steve gives you a deep kiss. He presses your foreheads together and asks, “Did you come, doll?” You nod, and he looks very pleased. “I’m glad. You’re doing so well. So good for me. Do you wanna help me?” He chuckles at the slow smile that spreads across your face.
He nods at the jar of lube beside him, and instructs you to smear a generous amount on your hand and over your wrist. Then he holds out his lube-shiny hand with his fingers spread so you can interlace your fingers with his. You sit on his lap, and he slowly pushes your combined hands into Bucky. Now much more gently, Steve slides you both shallowly back and forth. You’ve fingered both of the guys before, but this? This is beyond out of this world. This was a whole other planet entirely. Nothing could possibly have prepared you for how amazing it felt to have Bucky so vulnerable in front of you, and to feel the pulse of his heartbeat wrapped around your fist. You hiss an awed curse.
“Okay, doll. We’re gonna make him come now, then we’ll cut him loose.” He directs the pressure over Bucky’s prostate again, and Bucky starts whining pleasepleaseplease quietly.
“Tell him, doll,” Steve says quietly, jerking his chin toward Bucky, “tell him he can come. Tell him how good he is.”
“Bucky? Babe? You’ve been so good for us. You did such a good job today. ‘M so proud of you. We want you to come for us. Be a good boy and come for us. Now.”
An incoherent noise warbles out of Bucky, his ass quivering weakly around you and Steve’s wrists. His cock jerks when he comes hard, splashing hot, salty fluid over his thighs and chest.
Steve gives Bucky’s body a moment to come down from his orgasm, then gently works your hands free of Bucky’s sloppy hole one at a time. Steve rises to his knees and strips his cock a few times with the hand that was just inside of Bucky, and comes in hot ropes over his gaping hole.
He motions to your knife, and you help him carefully cut the ropes off Bucky. Steve helps him sit up, and when Bucky’s arm goes around his neck Steve scoops him up and bridal carries him to the low, blanket-covered bed against one wall, rolling him over onto his stomach. He sends you into the attached bathroom and instructs you to bring back a couple cold, and a couple warm wet washcloths.
Steve uses the warm washcloths to mop up the mess on Bucky’s face, and to gingerly clean his well-used hole. You use the cool washcloths to wipe the sweat off his skin. You also have a soft cloth you use to dry Bucky’s vibranium arm after you’ve wiped it down. You don’t offer to remove it for a more thorough cleaning, because, unless it’s really bothering him, he tends to feel helpless and off-kilter without it.
Steve has a bottle of massage oil, and squeezes some into his palms and begins rubbing Bucky’s legs, up to his lower back, all the way up to his neck, paying special attention to the muscles around his vibranium shoulder, because they’re always extra tight from the added weight.
Sitting on the floor next to the bed, you bring a bottle of water with a straw in it to Bucky’s lips, and he smiles at you gratefully before taking several pulls from the straw. You have a chocolate bar for him too, and you break off small pieces of it and feed it to him, encouraging him to take sips of water between each bite.
You and Steve both murmur generous amounts of praise to Bucky as you take care of him. When Steve rolls him over to massage his quads and chest, you take Bucky’s head into your lap and work the ponytail holder out of his hair and run a comb through it until there are no more knots in it and it fans out around his head like a soft chestnut halo.
Steve finishes massaging Bucky then leaves him with you for a moment so he can restore a little order to the room. Bucky rolls onto his side, nuzzles his face into your stomach and wraps his arms around your side, squeezing gently.
He looks up at you, smiling at you so sweetly and says, “Hi, kitten,” in a husky whisper.
You run a soothing hand over his shoulder and smile at him. “Hi, Buck,” you murmur. “Did you have a good time? Are you okay?”
He nods an affirmative, and smiles at you. You carefully trace some of the rope marks that criss-cross his chest and arms, softly telling him they look so pretty where they twist and twirl over his pale, tattooed skin. He preens as the compliment.
Steve’s back with a bottle of water for you. He’s chugging a bottle of his own, and indicates wordlessly that you needed to do the same. You drink some, and eat a bit of the chocolate bar, popping pieces into Bucky’s mouth too when he opens it.
“You did really well,” Bucky purrs at you. “Thank you.”
“Bucky, thank you for trusting me enough to let me help Stevie.”
“You both did very well,” Steve interjects. “Now let's have a little nap and then a shower before we wear out the welcome on this room.
Steve motions for you to scoot against Bucky’s front, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you to his tattooed chest. Then Steve swaddles you both in the blanket. Steve curls around Bucky’s back, but goes up on one arm and uses a big palm to turn Bucky’s head around to face him. He traces gently over Bucky’s cheek and they kiss so tenderly. They press their foreheads together and murmur words of love and gratitude between them, until Steve instructs Bucky to sleep. Then Steve’s hand drapes over Bucky’s hip to squeeze yours. Bucky catches your thigh between his, and reaches to cup his metal palm over your ass to make sure you stay close.
Bracketed by his two favorite people, and cocooned in their warm arms, Bucky is the first one of you to drift off to sleep.