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A Rough Night

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You asked for this , Bucky reminds himself, literally, asked for it in words. What the hell had he been thinking? He shifts about, uncomfortable, but that just moves the plug against the walls of his ass and makes him more aware of the discomfort. It's not even that big, but it's unforgiving and it's even worse when he stays still. At least when he rocks his hips from side to side it moves in a far more pleasant way.

He isn't going to sleep tonight.

Bucky gives in and settles into a rhythm as quietly as he can, trying not to wake Steve or Sam. It doesn't send the sparks of pleasure into him like it would if he could just change the angle a little, but it's still arousing, he's still stiff and weeping and brushing his cock lightly against the sheets, over stimulated, and his breath comes ragged.

The movement of the bed must wake Steve. He's a light sleeper, after all, it's to be expected, but not a gracious early riser. He rolls over Bucky and climbs out of bed, fumbling for the bathroom without opening his eyes. Bucky stills his hips, hoping that his behaviour will be forgotten in favour of doing a piss, but Steve is back far too soon, bath brush in hand.

“Stop rocking, Bucky,” He grumbles, placing one strong hand in the small of Bucky's back, pinning him face down to the bed. With his other hand, he raises the brush above his head and brings it down hard on Bucky's far cheek with a crack that makes Sam jump in his sleep and Bucky cry out into his pillow. The handle of the brush hits the base of the plug and it jerks inside him.

The hand is still holding him down though, which means it isn't over. Bucky clutches the headboard as Steve lets the pain of the first blow sink in, before landing another, equally hard smack on his left cheek. Bucky whimpers, pleading for clemency. He's so tired...

“Sorry,” He mumbles.

Steve doesn't say anything, just climbs back over Bucky to his place in the centre of the bed, shifting Sam, who has rolled into it, out the way. He strokes Bucky's right ass cheek, feeling the heat and the swelling, and then, almost as an afterthought, he lays the brush horizontally over the small of Bucky's back.

“If that falls off, you're getting it again,” Steve whispers close to his ear, before tucking himself back under the sheets.

It's a miserable half an hour before Bucky can even try to sleep. His ass stings and aches and he can feel his pulse in his hole, twitching against the plug.

Steve throws an arm across his shoulder and it helps, some. Bucky closes his eyes and tries to ignore how loud everything sounds.

The brush clatters to the floor and shocks them both awake. Bucky realises he's started rocking in his sleep, and the plug has shifted uncomfortably so that it's further out and his hole is stretched wider. His cock is limp, now, but it starts to perk up as soon as he comes back to himself. Bucky hopes Steve will be too tired to do anything about it, but he feels Steve sit up and then push the plug in properly.

Bucky whimpers but doesn't complain as Steve leans down to pick up the brush.

This time, Steve lands two blows on each side, and Bucky sobs as each one batters his already bruised flesh. The sound and movement wakes Sam, and he sits up next to Steve in the bed.

“What's happened?” He asks, voice thick with sleep.

“Nothing, just Bucky misbehaving,” Steve pats his scarlet rump with the brush in emphasis and Bucky wipes his tears on the corner of the pillow.

“What'd he do, wet the bed or something?” Sam grunts, lying back down.

Bucky flushes as red as his ass in the dark, because he's never  done that. He knows Sam said it just to humiliate him, and it works.

“No, he just keeps fidgeting and waking me up,” Steve twists the plug sharply as punishment, pulling it out to the fullest point before pushing it back in.

“Bad boy, Bucky,” Sam admonishes sleepily.

Bucky cries quietly to himself as they each fall back to sleep.


It happens again, and he can't help it, he can't help it , there's no way in hell he's going to be able to sleep through the night with a plug inside of him and he has no idea why he'd ever thought it possible. The flared base pushes his cheeks apart and chafes at the soft skin between them, and the plug itself moves about every time he fucking breathes. He can feel every heartbeat amplified against the toy as though someone's fingers are scissoring him at least once a second.

This time he's already whimpering by the time Steve has opened his eyes. He doesn't spank him there and then; instead he pulls Bucky up by one arm and half marches, half drags him through to the bathroom.

Sam limps behind like a zombie, taking the brush from the floor by the bed, half dead from sleep but unwilling to miss Bucky's punishment three times in one night.

The bathroom light dazzles them all equally, and Sam swears loudly as it flickers on. It does give Bucky the chance to see himself in the mirror, though. Naked and trembling next to his two pyjama clad lovers, he looks kind of pathetic, which is mostly the point.

His ass is two smudged circles of reddish purple held apart by the black of the plug still nestled between the cheeks. He looks exhausted and sore.

Bucky groans in tiredness and nerves. “Take it out.”

Steve pulls him chest to back and slides his hands down behind Bucky's knees, hiking them up so that Bucky is suspended between Steve's hands and chest, like he's sitting in an invisible chair with no bottom and a hell of a lot on display. He can see himself spread out in the mirrored tiles over the sink.

“Three times in one night, Bucky,” Steve tells him. He pulls Bucky's knees up higher, until his nipples are touching his thighs and his bottom hangs down, exposed. To Sam he says, “Eight spanks with the bath brush, hard as you can.”

His cock is hard and thick and his face is red with shame. Bucky grabs Steve's shoulders, forcing himself not to hold too tightly with his prosthetic hand, and closes his eyes. This isn't allowed.

“Hold your balls out the way and watch,” Sam orders him.

He does, palming himself in his right hand, opening his eyes to watch himself tremble in the mirror.

Sam raises the brush over his shoulder and swings it down, and it smacks hard against the tightly stretched skin where ass meets left thigh. 

“Ow!” Bucky yells and struggles, but Steve's grip is tight enough to stop him bending his legs back down and he doesn't dare use the hand on his balls to try and protect anything else; he knows how that scenario ends. He watches the flesh whiten and then fill with blood in the mirror, and stares at his own stricken face. Steve meets his eye over his shoulder, watching his expression carefully.

Sam waits an interminably long five seconds before hitting the other cheek, and Bucky sobs out loud again as it knocks the plug, kicking his legs as much as Steve will allow. He doesn't look in the mirror this time, already knows what he'll see. He feels himself pushing at the plug and it slips out more than half way before the next stroke smashes it back in.

Sam spanks him again and again, and Bucky can't stop struggling, the pain too much and the plug battering his prostate hard enough that he's choking back screams by the fifth lick, tears and snot running down his face.

Sam is more merciful than Steve, or maybe he's just hornier. He puts the brush on the counter next to the sink after six instead of eight and slowly works the plug out. Bucky can feel lube and sweat running up his ass crack, and a moment of strange emptiness before Sam shoves three fingers straight back in.

Bucky whines and turns to push his head under Steve's chin.

“You're so loose and ready,” Sam tells him, because even if Sam doesn't like dirty talk, Steve and Bucky certainly do. “All wet and warm inside. I bet I could get my whole fist in you if I tried.”

He shoves his little finger in next to the first three and Bucky squeaks. “No...”

“No?” Sam parrots back, smirking at Steve before he grips Bucky's chin with the hand that isn't in his ass and forces him to meet his gaze. “You're lucky I want my dick in you too bad to bother, cos I could finger you all night long.”

It's Steve who groans this time, his appreciation rumbling in his chest. He relaxes his grip a little as Sam drops his pyjama pants and runs his hand over his own cock before he pulls his fingers out, lines it up with Bucky's slick passage and sinks in like a hot knife into butter.

Everyone is definitely awake now.

Fuck,” Bucky says a little too loudly, and nobody cares. He loves Sam's cock, probably because it's not like his or Steve's. Sam was born in the '80s, when every dick that came into the USA was circumcised, whereas Sam and Steve were home births in impoverished families in a time before antibiotics and both were spared the knife. But still, that fat, exposed head fucks into him, the same one he spends hours thinking about brushing against the fabric of Sam's briefs all day, never quite safe from being caressed, and he loves it.

Bucky's ass is slick and sticky, as anything filled with silicone based lube tends to be, and Sam puts a hand on top of his on Steve's shoulder to anchor himself as he pounds Bucky like the punishment it is, hitting against his prostate and making him yelp in pleasure and sharp nips of pain as the skin inside is stretched and pulled.

He kisses Steve over the top of Bucky's head, and then bites bruises onto Bucky's lower lip when he whimpers at being left out.

Bucky can feel his own pulse and Sam's, feel himself stretching, the ridge of Sam's head against his prostate and feel Steve's cock nudging the back of his ass. He can almost hear the thought pop into Steve's mind.

“Fuck no!” He growls as he feels the muscles in Steve's jaw pulling at a grin.

“Mmh, fuck yes,” Steve breaths wetly in his ear, dropping Bucky's right leg to push his hand beneath him.

Sam catches Bucky's leg and raises it again as Steve slips a finger in the rim of his hole. It's not so tight a fit after six hours wearing a plug, so he adds a second finger and braces his hand against Sam's stilled cock, pulling and stretching the sore flesh.

No extra lube needed, it runs out of Bucky like they've shoved half a bottle up there, and it feels hot and filthy. Bucky knocks his head back against Steve's shoulder, wishing he could reach to bite him, for something to grit his teeth into and taste.

He gets a kiss instead, one that's a little dry because Steve always gets thirsty when he's aroused, that smells a little of Sam's lip balm. It's bizarrely gentle and completely out of place in the current situation, Steve quietly asking for permission.

“What are you waiting for?” Bucky grins at him, his role discarded in favour of getting what he wants right now. “Fuck me!”

There's a collective moan as Steve holds Bucky open with one finger and then slides in next to Sam.

Bucky pants with the effort of relaxing, and Sam and Steve keep him in place whilst they wait. “Holy.... Holy shit that's a tight fit,” He mutters, sweat beading on his forehead.

Sam nods, swaying slightly. Bucky's hand is still cupping his cock, and Sam reaches down to move it, lacing their fingers and dragging them up and down his foreskin.

When waiting becomes too much of a chore, he feels Steve move in him, more like he's rubbing against Sam than thrusting into Bucky. With Sam in the way, he can only see his feet in the mirror and for some reason it seems hilarious and he laughs. It makes him clench, and it hurts because of it, but it's worth it for the noise that chokes in Sam's throat and for the way Steve's fingers dig into his leg.

Sam thrusts in earnest after that, pulls right out and fucks straight back into him, against Steve's cock and that soft, hypersensitive place inside behind his balls that makes Bucky's cock jump whilst Sam pets it.

It doesn't take long for the whole thing to become too much, and if Bucky wasn't already coming, the pleasure-pain as his hole constricts and pulses around the thick invasion would drive him over the edge. He comes with a gasp in Sam's hands and over his own belly and definitely draws blood from Steve's shoulder.

Sam is next, he feels it as a hot rush inside of him, in the wild snap of Sam's hips as he slams in one last time.

Bucky is spent and boneless, but Sam retains sufficient strength to pull out and take enough of Bucky's weight to allow Steve to fuck the battered, stretched passage hard from behind, holding onto Bucky's sides now and thrusting at super-soldier speeds. His walls and his prostate hurt with the excess stimulation, and he's definitely bruised inside, but fuck it's so worth it.

The force of Steve's final thrusts knocks Sam against the sink and Steve pins them both there with his weight as he spills into him.

The three of them slide as a pile of jellied legs on the floor, stinking of sex and covered in lube and sweat, Steve still softening inside of Bucky whilst they catch their breath.

“We should get up from here and go to bed,” Steve says after a minute, not bothering to move a muscle. Sam's eyes are already closing.

“Nope,” Bucky tells him, “You'll have to carry me.”

With a noise of complaint, Steve pushes himself into a sitting position and draws a similar sound from Bucky as he pulls out. The emptiness is almost as painful as having the both of them in there, and suddenly he can feel the terrible ache and the burning of his spanked ass cheeks and he's too tired to do anything about it.

“Shit, put the plug back in!” He demands. He can just about tense up tight enough to stop their juices leaking out, but it takes effort that he's no longer willing to put in.

Steve shakes his head, “You don't have to, Buck, I think you're done for tonight.”

“I said put it back in!” Bucky whines and Steve relents, grabbing the plug from where it's fallen into the sink and pushing it easily back inside.

Steve stands shakily and pulls Bucky out of Sam's lap. Sam stays seated for a moment before following them up. “I have work in the morning, you know,” He turns off the light behind them. “And we're all filthy.”

“We'll change the sheets tomorrow,” Steve replies, hooking his arm round Bucky's thighs and carrying him to the bed like a sack of flour.

“On my front,” Bucky mumbles as he lands ass down on the bed, and lets Steve reposition him with a pillow under his groin, plugged ass raised up in the air.

They settle back into the bed with Bucky in the middle this time, all too hot to be more than very loosely entangled.

“Was that what you wanted?” Steve asks quietly in the dark.

Bucky nods, even though his ass stings, his hole aches, the lube and come on his thighs and down his crack feels strange as it dries, and the plug is still uncomfortable and moving inside of him. At least he's too tired to rock his hips and wake anyone up this time. He doesn't think he'd last through another spanking.