trashmod: (Default)
garbage all the way down ([personal profile] trashmod) wrote in [community profile] hydratrashmeme2014-12-07 08:43 am

Dumpster #2: ...'Cause a Hydra Trash Party don't stop

Unholy hell-miracle achieved! Welcome to Bad Guys Do Bad Things To Your Faves 2: Electric Boogaloo. AKA the seamy sexual-violence-and-violent-sex underbelly of Captain America fandom, AKA the Hydra Trash Party kinkmeme. As usual, BLANKET NON-CON AND NSFW WARNINGS apply: just assume going in that everything in this landfill is unfit for human consumption.

Rules in brief: don't be a jerk except to fictional characters, warnings for particularly fucked-up garbage are nice but not required, thou shalt not judge the trashiness of thy neighbor's kinks unless thy neighbor is trying to pass off their rotting banana peels and half-eaten pizza crusts as a healthy romantic dinner for two, off-topic comments may be chucked out of the dumpster at management's discretion, management's discretion decrees that omegaverse, soulbond AUs, D/s-verse, non-superpowered AUs, and dark!good guys AUs are off-topic.

[Round 1] [Fill post] [Chatter post] [hydratrashmeme Pinboard archive (maintained by [personal profile] greenkirtle)] [Round 2 in flat view (comments in non-threaded chronological order, most recent last)]

Round 2 is closed; comments and fills in existing threads are still welcome, but all new prompts go to Round 3.

Bucky in diapers

(Anonymous) 2015-01-03 03:50 am (UTC)(link)
+ for any kind of fill
++ for humiliation
+++ for taking us to a new part of the dumpster

Re: Bucky in diapers

(Anonymous) 2015-01-03 04:09 am (UTC)(link)
Umm YESSSS

I think this subject has barely been touched upon at all in this dumpster. For shame!

(jk we lack the ability to feel shame but seriously I really hope someone fills this)

Re: Bucky in diapers

(Anonymous) 2015-01-03 02:57 pm (UTC)(link)
I do an ageplay series on AO3 that's going to get into this territory in this month's eventual installment: http://archiveofourown.org/series/114886 However, it may not be what you're after because it's with the Avengers and so less a trash thing and more of a comfort thing (though tangentially trashy because it's due to issues HYDRA gave him, maybe?), and also it's only when sleeping.

There's a story called Like Quickening Hues that touches on this territory, if you haven't seen that: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2347031/chapters/5176154A

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[FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (1/3)

(Anonymous) 2015-01-07 07:30 am (UTC)(link)
A/N: I responded to this prompt earlier giving my support but decided to suck it up and write something since I wanted it so bad. There actually isn't much diaper stuff in this part but I promise it's coming! There's plenty of humiliation, degradation, and desperation though. Also I hope someone else fills this too because there are so many different ways the prompt could be taken!

-----

The transport lasted seven hours. By the time they reached the safehouse, the Asset's body is shaking with minute, irregular tremors. Commander Rumlow had not allowed them to stop, despite protests from the two other agents in the car. They had left the base late already and continued to fall behind schedule. Their vehicle was not properly equipped for the unexpected snow storm that had blown through the area several hours before departure and the other cars on the road did not drive quickly enough to suit the Commander.

Despite the increasingly heavy snowfall, Secretary Pierce had not cancelled the mission nor adjusted their timetable. Old bastard, the Asset had heard the Commander say under his breath when he'd received this news halfway through West Virginia. The Asset had swallowed back vomit. Any harm toward the Secretary, even harmful words, causes nausea as inevitably as a stun baton causes pain. It warranted punishment. But the Asset does not question the Commander. The Asset decided to pretend it did not hear. Without moving, it closed its ears and let itself go away, just far enough that it could be pulled back by its Commander's voice the moment it was needed. The Asset was not needed during transport.

It had remained this way, somewhere else, until that thin fraying tether between the Asset and its body quivered enough to force them back together again. It wasn't a voice but a pain. The pain in the Asset's bladder had become impossible to ignore. The Asset had been able to set it aside while at the base and during the earlier portion of the transport, to let it fade into the background like the constant ache of its spine and the area to which the metal arm attached. But its bladder had been much less full then and there had been so many distractions. Technicians touching him, the Commander giving mission details, the buzz of the Asset's brain committing every word and picture to memory. Then later the bickering between the Commander and Agent Rollins and the sounds of Agent Gillette's cell phone game in the car. Now the vehicle was silent, although the Asset's enhanced hearing picked up the sound of its own heart beating. Ten percent faster than its normal resting heart rate. The strain on its bladder seemed to stimulate the rest of the Asset's body, creating a strong urge to writhe in place. It stifled this urge and remained still. The Asset would say nothing. The Asset was not allowed to ask. It was allowed to relieve itself at regular intervals at the discretion of the Commander. The Commander had said they would not stop. If he would not stop for Agent Gillette's needs, he certainly would not stop for the Asset. The Asset would wait.

After the third time Gillette had expressed his desire to stop and relieve himself, the Commander ordered Rollins to find an empty water bottle.

"We're already an hour and a half behind. We get off on one of these Hicksville exits and it'll take twenty minutes to get back on the highway," the Commander said.

"I wouldn't mind a pit stop to get some Funyuns," came Rollins' voice from the passenger seat.

"First off, no, you'll stink up the van. Second, we've gotta get through phase one while we've still got daylight. The target's going to get suspicious about a guy 'reading his meter' after dark, even if you are wearing the vest."

"I'm not wearing the vest," said Rollins.

"You sure as hell are. I'm not letting Agent Butterfingers plant the bug and I'm clearly too handsome to be a meter reader," said the Commander.

Gillette shifted in response to hearing the moniker Rumlow had given him. Although the junior agent's displeasure meant little and most likely would not result in the Asset being punished, the Asset catalogued the action regardless.

"That thing is too damn short on me. I look like I'm wearing a Girl Scout vest," Rollins said as he passed an empty water bottle back to Gillette.

Gillette sighed and climbed over the seats, muttering something about privacy. The van was not the standard black unmarked HYDRA vehicle used for most missions. It was a silver van with soft seats, seat belts, and smooth edges that blended in seamlessly with the other cars on the road. Except the back windows were tinted and the last row of seats had been taken out. In their place were the team's gear and supplies, disguised as things civilians would transport. The Asset sat between two boxes labelled 'KITCHEN STUFF.'

The Asset shifted aside as Gillette knelt down in the back and opened his fly. Eye contact was not to be made under normal circumstances, but the Asset made sure to keep its head, not just its eyes, turned away. The Asset would be especially bad to look at the agent right now, although it wasn't sure why it knew this.

The sound of Gillette urinating into the bottle filled the Asset's ears. It squeezed its thighs together involuntarily and tried to ignore it. Tried to ignore the smell that reached its sensitive nose. The Asset was very good at ignoring uncomfortable things but it couldn't ignore this. After what seemed like an age, the urination ceased and the Asset heard Gillette cap the bottle. He climbed back over the seats and rolled the window down, then threw the full bottle into the snowy field they were passing.

The cold air blowing in from the window went straight to the Asset's bladder. The Asset would hold it. It would. It briefly considered asking for an empty bottle as well but knew it could not speak the request. It was not allowed to ask. It was allowed to relieve itself at regular intervals at the discretion of the Commander. It would be disobedient to ask. And it would disgust the agents for the Asset to urinate near them. And it was not allowed to expose its genitals unnecessarily. This was very important.

The pain seemed to have doubled over the past few minutes alone. It was strange that the Asset regularly endured worse pain without a whimper, yet a desperately full bladder pushed it close to the breaking point. The Asset knew it was because of the psychological aspect of the issue, the anxiety. If it couldn't hold its bladder, there would be consequences.

(The Secretary had explained how fearing the consequences of something can be worse than the thing itself. The Asset's targets are scared of a gun not because they fear the gun itself but because they fear what it can DO. The Asset was glad the memory of that talk had not been wiped away. The Secretary had sat close and looked the Asset in the eyes. He had let the Asset look back. The Asset often played the scene back in its mind before it slept. It wasn't allowed to keep too many memories and this one was particularly vivid.)

They reached the safehouse an hour later as dusk was looming. The Asset and Gillette unloaded the van as the Commander and Rollins prepared for Phase One. The Asset struggled to maintain composure but knew that its gait had visibly stiffened. The pain had progressed into searing urgency and jelly-legged desperation. The Asset knew what came after this stage if it didn't use the toilet. It had happened before. Fortunately, Gillette did not seem to notice anything wrong. Probably because it was the agent's first time working with the Asset and he didn't know how it normally was meant to behave.

The Asset would be bad to ask Agent Gillette for permission to urinate. The Asset was allowed to relieve itself at regular intervals at the discretion of the Commander.

...Perhaps the Asset would ask the Commander. No, not ask. Perhaps it would approach him (eyes down) and say "Sir?" (respectful). Or maybe "Commander Rumlow?" (They liked it when the Asset remembered their names. The names of other agents were usually wiped away along with most mission details, but they let it remember the names of its handlers.) Would the Commander know what the Asset needed?

After the van was unloaded, Rollins (dressed in an orange vest) left in the vehicle alone to complete phase one of the mission. The Asset entered the safehouse on shaking legs. It scanned the small building for the Commander but found only Gillette. The agent was in the kitchen looking through the cabinets. He failed to mask his flinch when he caught sight of the Asset in his peripheral vision.

"You looking for Rumlow?" asked Gillette, speaking to the Asset for the first time.

It nodded.

"He's out back trying to get reception so we can check in." Gillette pointed toward the kitchen window that overlooked the backyard.

The Asset approached the window gingerly, keeping its legs as close together as it dared. Its stomach dropped when it saw the Commander about ten meters away from the house, holding a cell phone aloft and moving it around in the air. The Asset would not make it. It could not walk that far like this.

It couldn't ask.
It couldn't go.
It couldn't ask.
It couldn't---

The Asset felt a burning warmth along the inseam of its pants.

Ignoring the way Gillette was staring, the Asset crouched down on the floor below the windowsill. The flow of urine stopped. The Asset knew there must be a stain on its pants. Hopefully it was a small one. It would not have been visible on black combat gear, but these were blue denim trousers necessary for passing as a civilian during the transport.

The Asset pressed its hands between its legs and watched as Gillette continued scouring the cabinets, pulling out ready-made snack items. If it focused entirely on Gillette, if it forgot everything else, forgot the liquid inside it churning around and the dam about to---

Another hot jet of urine soaked the Asset's clothing and, despite its best efforts to contain it, this one lasted nearly three seconds. The Asset bolted up and darted to the bathroom. It had noticed the room on its way inside, looked longingly at the toilet on its search for the Commander.

It wasn't allowed but it couldn't make a mess couldn't couldn't it was being very bad

Tears prickled the Asset's eyes as it unzipped and removed itself from the trousers with unsteady hands. Just as another leak began from its exhausted bladder, it aimed and released into the toilet. The stream was strong and echoed through the house. The Asset couldn't help but moan in relief from the pain that had lasted for hours. For a moment it forgot that it was being bad, lost in the sensation.

The Asset sensed the presence before it heard the footsteps outside the doorway. It was already reeling back away from the toilet before the sharp voice cut through the air, sending every cell in the Asset's body into panic.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?! Dogs go outside!"

The Commander was shouting. The Asset was cowering in the corner near the edge of the bathtub. It had taken a few seconds for it to stop urinating. Its genitals were exposed and its pant legs were stained dark with patches of urine.

The Asset quickly covered itself and the words began to flow out automatically.

I'm sorry sir I'm sorry I didn't mean please forgive me sir Commander I'm sorry I'm sorry

Now the Asset remembered. It was fuzzy around the edges and difficult to grasp but the memory was there. Somewhere hot. Lots of trees. Lots of mud. Three targets in three days. One safehouse with one toilet for a team of nine. The Commander hadn't allowed the Asset to use the toilet. The Asset was a dog. An agent had given the Asset fruit from a tree and it had gotten sick. Laughter when the Asset had to ask permission five times in one evening to go outside and vomit again. Disgust when it had soiled its blankets during the night.

"We should put diapers on him."

-----

The Commander had hit the Asset and told it to stand in a corner of the living room. Though the urine-soaked pants had begun to itch, it was far from a terrible punishment. The Asset never minded standing in a corner unless its legs were broken. Its lower half still felt heavy as it had only managed to release about one-third of its bladder. But it was no longer unbearably full and the feeling could be ignored.

By the time Agent Rollins returned the light bruises had almost faded but the heavy denim remained visibly wet. Rollins took one look at the Asset then strode into the kitchen to join the Commander and Rumlow.

"You know, you might have been onto something with the diaper idea," the Asset heard Rollins say with a laugh.

The three agents discussed the mission over the sound of clinking bottles. During the check-in the Commander had been given clearance to delay phase two of the mission by one day due to inclement weather. That meant the agents could partake in the alcohol Commander Rumlow never failed to stash among the mission supplies (this time it had been in a small box labelled "DAD'S STUFF").

The Asset watched the moon disappear and reappear through the gaps in the blinds on the living room windows. Its pants were nearly dry when the Commander's voice came from the kitchen, ordering the Asset to clean up the table.

Rollins had left, most likely asleep in one of the bedrooms. Gillette dozed in his chair at the kitchen table as a line of drool slowly made its way down his chin. The Commander only had two empty beer bottles in front of him, but he already had a look in his eye that the Asset--

The Asset pushed away the wispy beginnings of a memory and began to clear the table. It felt the Commander's eyes watching it move. The Asset was doing it right. It cleaned up a puddle of beer with soap and water instead of just a paper towel. It didn't need to be punished because it wasn't going to disobey again.

But it knew the Commander wasn't watching it to make sure it did a good job. The Commander wanted--

All too soon, the kitchen was clean. The Asset had worked quickly. It had wanted to stall, but it was trained to be efficient. Not that stalling would have worked anyway.

The Commander's hand touched the back of the Asset's neck. The Asset didn't jump, but it was a close thing.

"I haven't forgotten what you did today. You're a bad boy."

The Asset nodded, its eyes on the floor.

"I should tell Pierce."

The Asset nodded again. It didn't know that the Secretary had forbidden it from using toilets. It had thought that was just a rule for Commander Rumlow's missions. It felt a stab of guilt when it realized it had disobeyed the Commander and the Secretary.

The Commander released the Asset's neck and leaned back against the kitchen counter. "But what have I always told you when you disobey?"

"I have the choice to be good again." The Asset speaks the words before it realizes it has opened its mouth.

"That's right, Baby. You always have a choice."

The Asset manages a tiny nod. Every muscle feels stiff and brittle.

"Do you want to be good?" the Commander asks.

The Asset can't force itself to speak. It can't even nod this time. But inside it thinks Yes yes I want to be good let me be good yes

And the Commander must know it because he leads the Asset to the master bedroom and closes the door behind them.

-----

A/N: I like fics that use "it" pronouns for the WS and there should be more of them but what I didn't realize when I began this is how many times I'd forget and write "he"! I may not have gotten them all so if you catch one let me know.

Re: [FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (1/3)

(Anonymous) 2015-01-07 08:58 am (UTC)(link)
Hnnnnngh oh wow yes

Re: [FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (1/3)

(Anonymous) 2015-01-07 09:05 am (UTC)(link)
"The Asset never minded standing in a corner unless its legs were broken."

This hit me like a guy shot. Good God please don't stop.

Re: [FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (1/3)

(Anonymous) 2015-01-07 09:05 am (UTC)(link)
"The Asset never minded standing in a corner unless its legs were broken."

This hit me like a gut shot. Good God please don't stop.

Re: [FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (1/3)

(Anonymous) 2015-01-07 01:30 pm (UTC)(link)
The Asset often played the scene back in its mind before it slept. It wasn't allowed to keep too many memories and this one was particularly vivid

Oh, this is killing me. Excellent work, nonnie.

Re: [FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (1/3)

(Anonymous) 2015-01-07 04:37 pm (UTC)(link)
Whoa I wasn't even into the original prompt but this is H E A V E N! I liked the part about him having to ask permission to go outside and throw up 5 times.

Re: [FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (1/3)

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Re: [FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (1/3)

(Anonymous) 2015-01-08 08:45 am (UTC)(link)
OP here - this is so good and so well paced. I love the extra knife twists - DAD'S STUFF and the Asset having to stand in the corner. You nailed the humiliation and punishment. I got chills when you wrote "We should put diapers on him." And the asset's sense of failure is amazing. I am so glad you chose to write this for this corner of the dumpster. Please, please have ALL my garbage. For the second part, I will give you all my neighbor's garbage.

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[FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (2a/3)

(Anonymous) 2015-01-08 09:32 am (UTC)(link)
A/N: Hereeeee's the diaper trash! Well, in part 2c. And in case anyone is wondering, this fill won't contain ageplay or infantilism cause that's stuff I can't write. Also I had to break this thing up because of the character limit but I'll probably post it on AO3 when it's done and it'll just be one chapter there.

-----

The Asset woke up wet.

It was not an unfamiliar feeling and the Asset was immediately thankful that it hadn't remained in the Commander's bed last night. After the Commander had finished, the Asset had lain there for a long time listening to his breathing. When it was sure the Commander had drifted off, it gingerly extracted itself from the bed so as not to disturb the man's sleep. The metal arm had been the most difficult part to move as it had adhered to the Commander's sweat-soaked skin when he had finally flopped down next to the Asset.

The Asset had then tiptoed back to the living room and settled itself down on the throw rug near the artificial fireplace. It would not be in anyone's way when the other agents got up in the morning, but it would also be readily visible. It would not startle anyone.

The Asset had arranged itself in its preferred sleeping position: on its side, legs tucked into its torso, flesh shoulder touching the floor so that no strain was put on the metal-flesh junction of its other side. Its metal arm curled protectively over its head and blocked out the dim light. The kitchen light was still on and the Asset could hear faint snoring coming from Gillette who was probably still sitting at the table. The Asset hadn't been given dinner, but it didn't dare enter the kitchen, not even to turn the light off. Gillette's position meant that he was in little danger of choking if he vomited in his sleep, so the Asset had no business disturbing the agent. It had closed its eyes and quickly fallen asleep.

The Asset didn't move when it slept. This was useful during missions when it was perched in a tree or sitting in a crowded van. It also meant that it had soaked its entire right side as it slept while the left was nearly dry. Its denim pant leg was wet down to the knee and even the right side of its shirt was damp. The pants smelled especially strongly of urine, since the Asset had already pissed in them the day before. The Asset sat up and realized with a jolt of horror that the beige throw rug underneath had a huge dark stain on it with the Asset at the center. The rug squelched when it moved, meaning there was probably an actual puddle under it sitting on the hardwood floor.

The Asset knew its bladder capacity was huge, but it had never had an accident this bad before. Or maybe it had. It couldn't remember. It couldn't even try to grasp those slippery edges of fragmented memories, not when every neuron was firing at once, setting its brain alight with panic. Hide it-- bury it-- beg-- don't let them see what you did bad dog--

Shaking hands quickly removed its shirt, fingers fumbling the buttons. It was never like this in the field. Even when there was chaos all around, agents shooting, screaming, smoke filling the air, the Asset's hands never wavered as it made one steady shot after another. But the Asset wasn't in the field. It was in its master's house and it had just soiled Master's rug instead of waiting just waiting until it was allowed to go outside like it should. The Asset frantically pressed the shirt into the carpet again and again until the fabric was completely saturated. The stain wasn't any less visible and now it had two completely soiled articles of clothing.

It needed something else. There would be towels and blankets in the bathroom but those were for the agents. It needed cleaning supplies. And something to take the smell out of the room. The Asset knew how to clean. It knew how to be useful. If the agents allowed, it would clean up the mess very quickly and wash the carpet. It could fix this if they let it. It didn't need to be punished right away, not in wet clothes...

The Asset rarely cried but right then it couldn't stop the tears. It sat in its mess and wept silently into its urine-damp hands.

That was how the Commander found it when he emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later. The Asset didn't need to look up to know the man was staring at it. The Commander could smell the urine and knew what it had done.

The Asset was scared when the Commander shouted, but it was always worse when the Asset was punished silently. The Commander began kicking the Asset with his socked feet, not wanting to get his fists dirty. Both of them were quiet, the only sound Rumlow's foot connecting with the Asset's flesh. It wouldn't scream. The pain wasn't terrible. Rollins and Gillette would not be woken. Then the Commander retrieved his stun baton from his room. He pressed it into the Asset's stomach, setting the power on medium. The Asset could no longer keep silent and a few painful moans escaped its throat despite its best effort. The pulsing shocks radiated outward from the Asset's core until it could feel them it its fingertips. The metal arm's circuitry was agitated, causing uncontrollable twitching. The Asset knew it would have urinated again if not for the fact that its bladder was completely empty. It hadn't had anything to drink since mid-afternoon the previous day.

Finally the Commander stopped and the Asset was able to breathe again.

"I can't fucking believe you made me punish you already. Haven't even had my coffee." The Commander sighed and shuffled to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. As an afterthought he called back, "That shit better be clean by the time I get back in there."

The Asset could feel the aftereffects of the stun baton still rippling through its body. It sprung into action anyway, balling up its shirt and rolling it up inside the carpet. It couldn't remove its pants. Nudity wasn't allowed without permission and it knew its sodden underwear would stick inappropriately to its genitals if the Asset stripped down to them.

Instead, it rolled up the right cuff of its pants so it wouldn't track urine all over the safehouse. It found cleaning supplies and rags inside a broom closet and would use those to mop up the urine from the living room floor.

As the Asset passed the kitchen, it saw the Commander sitting at the table drinking his coffee alone. Agent Gillette must have gotten up during the night and taken the other bed in the second bedroom. If the Asset worked quickly, it could have the mess cleaned up before Rollins and Gillette woke up. They wouldn't know and maybe the Commander wouldn't tell them and they wouldn't laugh at the Asset.

But just as the Asset was wiping off the last of the cleaning fluid from the floor, Rollins emerged from the second bedroom. He stopped mid-yawn when he saw the Asset, his eyes trailing down to its soiled pants.

"Jesus," Rollins said as he made toward the kitchen to join the Commander. "This is getting out of hand. You gonna let him change?"

"Someone needs to clean him up," the Commander responded.

"Make Gillette do it. He's up. Unlike somebody I had more than two beers last night and I feel like a shit sundae."

The Asset scooped up the stinking rug and rags and went down to the basement. It put the soiled items into the washer and started the machine.

Instead of going back upstairs immediately, it took a moment to close its eyes. It would be okay to take a moment. Its heart was still beating out of its chest from the Commander's punishment and its frantic effort to clean up its mess. It should have been hungry right then, but its empty stomach churned with nausea. It had been so bad. It would have to do so much for the Commander to make up for this. To make sure he wouldn't tell Pierce. If he did, the Secretary would know how bad the Asset had been. When the Asset realized this, it thought it might actually vomit.

Its thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the basement stairs. Was the Commander angry the Asset had taken too long?

The Asset was relieved to see it was Gillette, not the Commander. The agent didn't look angry.

"Hey, uh, Asset," the agent said with uncertainty. "Rumlow told me to hose you down outside."

The Asset didn't let its expression change, but inside its heart fell. It was below freezing outside and the night had brought more snow. The Asset didn't like being cold.

Maybe Gillette knew what the Asset was thinking because he said, "I'll make it quick. Come on, you can change into these after."

The agent had brought down what appeared to be sweatpants and a sweater. They looked warm and soft.

The Asset stripped and followed Gillette outside. It felt strange to be naked out there, but it wasn't inappropriate because the Asset had been given an order. Immediately the cold wind bit at its naked body and make it want to wrap its arms around itself. The Asset wouldn't do that. It would look weak.

Gillette let the Asset stand on the concrete stoop outside the basement door rather than in the snow. The Asset was grateful. It had once completed a training exercise in which it had to run laps in the snow with no shoes or shirt. The trainers had laughed and said the technicians would need to build metal feet if the Asset's flesh ones froze off. That hadn't happened, but the Asset didn't want to risk the possibility again.

The cold water was worse than the wind, but it washed away the itchy sting of urine that had coated the Asset's legs.

True to his word, Gillette made it quick. He hosed down the Asset's legs, genitals, and a bit of its upper body, but that was all. He didn't get the Asset's hair wet or spray the hose in its face. He didn't touch the Asset. And when they went back inside, Gillette didn't towel-dry the Asset himself or watch it dress. He went back upstairs without another glance at the naked body he had washed.

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Re: [FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (3b/4)

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Re: [FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (3b/4)

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Re: [FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (3b/4)

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Re: [FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (3b/4)

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[FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (4a/4)

(Anonymous) - 2015-01-12 03:23 (UTC) - Expand

[FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (4b/4)

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Re: [FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (4b/4)

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Re: [FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (4b/4)

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Re: [FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (4b/4)

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Re: [FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (4b/4)

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Re: [FILL] "Warmth in Winter" (1/3)

(Anonymous) 2015-01-13 03:25 am (UTC)(link)
The completed fic "Warmth in Winter" now on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3169694

Only a few minor changes were made, not enough to warrant rereading it. I did add some new author's notes at the end, though.

[Fill] "I'm a Big Squid Now" Bucky in diapers [1/1]

(Anonymous) 2015-01-07 05:07 pm (UTC)(link)
A/N: I feel this short piece of crack can't hold a candle to the fill happening above, but I did have it written out, so here you go. It ended up lighter on the humiliation than intended because apparently I'm soft-hearted like that, but I hope you enjoy it.

--

Rumlow doesn’t notice until Rollins chokes.


The mission has yet to begin; they’re headed to the lockers to get their gear on and Rumlow has his face buried in the mission dossier, teeth grinding. He’s wondering if he’s done something to piss off Secretary Pierce lately—without the Force on their side or a heaping helping of fairy dust, there’s no way this extraction will be bloodless—when Rollins seizes up beside him and makes a sound like a wounded cow.


“The hell?” Rumlow asks, but Rollins just doubles over and, shaking, points to the asset.


The Winter Soldier stands in the center of the room, half dressed, his tactical pants and non-mission clothing folded neatly on the bench beside him. He’s fastening the straps of his vest. He’s alone, which is against regulation and someone on the tech team is getting a write up, but that’s currently beside the fucking point. And the point is that the asset’s in diapers.


In and of itself, that’s not remarkable. The rookies always giggle to themselves the first time they see the asset suit up, but it’s the most practical option. He’s usually thawed out for long stakeouts or heavy combat. Time-sensitive missions with no room for distractions. Besides, any soldier who’s seen combat has pissed themselves at least once from either physical stress, pain, or fear. It’s fight or flight. Might as well avoid ammonia itching down the legs when the inevitable occurs.


But the asset’s standard undergarments are MAGs, which look like thick white boxers and have the most dignity that diapers allow. He’s not in a MAG now. He’s in fucking pull-ups.


Pull-ups, Rumlow realizes as he begins to question his perception of reality, that are decorated in pink polka dots. With a big pink octopus at the center of the asset’s crotch. With a bow on its head and its tentacles framing a outline of the Captain America shield.


“What the fuck,” he croaks.


The asset’s face tinges pink, as though he remembers he should feel shame but he can’t remember why.


“The fuck,” Rumlow repeats, because those words are cycling through his mind like an engine turning over. “The fuck are you doing?”


“Dressing for the mission,” the asset says, though he’s stopped now, standing at attention.


“The fuck are you wearing?”


From the corner of his eye, Rumlow sees Rollins sink to the floor, convulsing with silent laughter, hands clamped over his mouth.


Eyes downcast, maybe trying to think of a safe answer in the face of the commander’s anger, the asset doesn’t speak.


“Take those off,” Rumlow demands. “Now.” Whoever’s joke this is, STRIKE’s not about to topple a government with the asset in training pants. Not on Rumlow’s watch. Even if it is hilarious. The rookies need a healthy fear of the asset and a respect for Rumlow’s authority, and this sure as hell won’t aid either.


The asset mumbles something that sounds suspiciously close to “like colors.”


“Use your words, princess,” Rumlow snaps.


Rollins is cackling out loud now, his mirth echoing off the walls.


Face flushed again, the asset tilts his head toward Rumlow’s locker. “That’s all there is.”


It doesn’t really surprise Rumlow, when he stalks to the locker and throws it open, that his pack’s been replaced with a diaper bag. It does surprise him that they make diaper bags with squids on them. He’s back to feeling stunned nothingness—along with the start of a throbbing headache, shut up Rollins—when he opens it to find more of the same pullups alongside his gear. It strikes him that the tech team had this shit mass-produced. God willing, whatever company supplied has them been torched.


There’s also a note:


Hello, Commander!


Tech’s sick of changing your baby and the asset’s sick of diaper rash, so we’ve created a simple guide to prevent you from being a negligent parent! Shield visible: asset’s dry. Shield missing (get it, it’s an educational metaphor too! Hail HYDRA.): get out of the line of fire and take out the changing pad. And don’t forget the powder, that’s important.


—W.


P.S. – When we have to account for this at the annual budget meeting, we’re blaming you.


“Dammit, Westfahl,” Rumlow mutters, crumpling the paper in his hands. Yeah, he leaves the asset’s hygiene to the tech team whenever it’s avoidable. He’s got enough figurative shit to do without keeping track of the asset’s liquid intake. And it’s not like the asset ever mentions it: whether it’s programming, pride, or embarrassment, he keeps his mouth shut.


And now the tech team’s gone and emasculated Rumlow by proxy, on the eve of what’s looking like the worst mission of the past decade. He’s seeing red, itching for something to hurt. If the asset gives him the slightest provocation, he’s going to—


There’s a clicking sound to his left. Rollins, his face stained with tears, has recovered enough to pull out his phone and start snapping pictures.


Rumlow backhands him and the bastard doesn’t even flinch. “Jack, what the fuck?”


“I’m immortalizing the moment,” Rollins explains, still trembling.


The asset’s gaze is very, deliberately fixed on the floor. Rumlow considers his options. He can bend over and take this and plot his revenge once they make it to extraction alive. He can make the asset go commando and deal with the hours of whimpering after the asset inevitably pisses himself during their stakeout. Or he can hit Rollins again. He takes the third option.


“Hey!” Rollins rubs at his jaw. “That one hurt. What’s your problem?”


“What’s your problem? The hell are those pictures even for, your personal wank collection?”


“I’m putting them on the Intranet,” Rollins says. His tone is indignant, as if it’s a reasonable idea. “Sitwell’s gonna explode when he sees this.”


“Before or after Pierce kills you?” There’s a vein twitching somewhere behind Rumlow’s eye, and another in his forehead. Pierce. There’s a comfort, at least. He’s going to eviscerate the tech team for this. “If the Secretary sees you uploaded—”


“The Secretary was there when I thawed,” the asset says. He still won’t look up, but he tilts his head again, this time toward the non-tactical clothing he’d been wearing. “When I was outfitted.”


Rumlow stares. “And what did he do?”


“He took out his phone and took pictures,” says the asset.


Rollins’s howling drowns out all the curses Rumlow lets slip. “Fine. Fucking whatever. Just get dressed, dammit.”


The asset makes short work of it, though when he steps into his boots he just stands there, staring down at the laces.


“There a problem, princess?” Rumlow demands, zipping up his own vest. His patience is down to one last, fraying thread.


“They said you had to tie my boots,” the asset mumbles. He says more, but it’s unintelligible: all Rumlow catches is “not permitted” and “develop paternal instinct.”


And that’s it. Mission be damned, Rumlow’s out of here. “I’m gonna punch something,” he seethes, stalking toward the door. “Or get really drunk. Either way. Deal with this shit, Rollins.”


Before the door slams behind him, he can hear his second in command’s giggle. “Okay, baby, put your foot up—”


Rumlow doesn’t get paid enough for this shit.

Re: [Fill] "I'm a Big Squid Now" Bucky in diapers [1/1]

(Anonymous) 2015-01-08 02:14 am (UTC)(link)
I adore every single time we see Rumlow so Done with this creepy Asset. Pierce taking pictures made me ugly laugh on the bus.

Re: [Fill] "I'm a Big Squid Now" Bucky in diapers [1/1]

(Anonymous) - 2015-01-08 03:10 (UTC) - Expand

Re: [Fill] "I'm a Big Squid Now" Bucky in diapers [1/1]

(Anonymous) 2015-01-08 08:47 am (UTC)(link)
OP here - SCREAMING, LAUGHING, CRYING. It's fantastic!! What a gift!!!

Only the best garbage for you - packing peanuts, a stack of old national geographics, and some bloody sponge-bob print band-aids.

Re: [Fill] "I'm a Big Squid Now" Bucky in diapers [1/1]

(Anonymous) - 2015-01-08 13:19 (UTC) - Expand

Re: [Fill] "I'm a Big Squid Now" Bucky in diapers [1/1]

(Anonymous) 2015-01-08 05:22 pm (UTC)(link)
Author!anon of the first fill here.... Can I just say that I may have peed a little bit (lol) when I read what you said about this fill not holding a candle to mine... It holds a frickin BONFIRE to mine! This is so fantastic!!

I let reading this fill be my reward for finishing part 2 of mine and I'm so glad I did because I think your fic would have subconsciously influenced me if I'd tried to write immediately after reading it. And it would have been bad because writing crack that is trashy, fuckin hilarious, and has super dark undertones all without being over the top is something I CANNOT do. That's why I'm in awe of you and this amazing fill!

I'll stop before this gets too Annie Wilkes-y, but I am a HUGE fan of your work and I think this is my new favorite of your short crack pieces! Thank you so much for posting it *off to reread it*

Re: [Fill] "I'm a Big Squid Now" Bucky in diapers [1/1]

(Anonymous) - 2015-01-08 17:49 (UTC) - Expand

[Sequel Fill] "Role Model" Bucky in diapers [1/1]

(Anonymous) 2015-01-09 10:49 pm (UTC)(link)
A/N: I had no plans for a sequel to this, until then someone in the AO3 comments for the original said "I bet Pierce showed his grandkids that [those photos]. "See, even big kids have to wear pull-ups!"" And so inspiration struck, and here we are. There's not technically trash in this - and in fact the Soldier proper doesn't appear - but I felt it carried an undercurrent of creep-ery that made it trash party appropriate.

--

“All right, munchkin, let’s get you ready for bed.”


“’M ready, Grandpa! Are you gonna tell a story?”


“Ah ah, not so fast. You need to put on your pull-ups.”


“Don’t hafta.”


“That’s not what Mommy said. You don’t want Mommy to get mad at Grandpa for breaking the rules, do you? If Mommy’s mad at Grandpa, how are we all going to go to Disney World next month?”


“I don’ need ‘em anymore, Grandpa. They’re for babies!”


“No they’re not, they’re for big kids. It says so right on the box.”


“Nicole says they just put that to make the babies feel better.”


“Well, your sister’s mistaken. Lots of big kids wear pull-ups.”


“Nuh-uh!”


“Oh, you think so? Hand Grandpa his phone, sweetheart. Thank you. See this picture? This is a big kid Grandpa works with. See? He has to wear them too.”


“...He’s a grown-up.”


“Yes, he is. He’s almost a hundred!”


“Is not! That’s silly, Grandpa.”


“Okay, I was pulling your leg. But he is old enough to drive. And he still wears pull-ups because he still has accidents. See? Big kids do so wear them.”


“His are pink.”


“He likes pink. And he likes octopuses.”


“They’re girls’ pants! Only girls like pink.”


“And how did you arrive at that well-formed conclusion?”


“Huh?”


“Who told you that?”


“Other boys at preschool.”


“I see. Sweetheart, boys can like pink and girls can like blue just like girls can like Iron Man and boys can like Queen Elsa. The world isn’t split into boy things and girl things. Anyone who thinks like that is missing out on a lot of fun stuff.”


“Does that big kid like Queen Elsa?”


“I don’t think he’s ever seen that movie. He works very hard and once he’s done for the day he usually just naps.”


“What’s the matter with his hand?”


“What’s that?”


“His hand, Grandpa. It’s funny-looking.”


“It’s made of metal. He’s a little bit of a robot.”


“Whoa.”


“So even big robots wear pull-ups if they need them.”


“Is he a ninja?”


“A robot ninja?”


“Yeah!”


“Yes, munchkin, he is a robot ninja. He helps Grandpa fight bad guys who make problems for other people.”


“Cool.”


“Very cool.”


“Is he a pirate?”


“What?”


“A robot ninja pirate!”


“No, he’s not a pirate. He was a kitty once, but that was just for Halloween.”


“A robot ninja kitty?”


“It wasn’t my idea.”


“That’s weird, Grandpa.”


“It was adorable, though. I have a picture of that too, see?”


“He needs white paws.”


“That’s what I said. Now how about you get your pull-ups on? Nichole’s probably getting very impatient waiting for us. And you never picked out the story you wanted to hear.”


“Wanna hear ‘bout when Uncle Nick saved Mommy in Bogotá.”


“Again?”


“’S good.”


“Yes, it’s a very good story. But your sister’s probably sick of hearing it by now.”


“But Grandpa—”


“Okay, okay, I’ll tell two. Now scoot.”


“Grandpa?”


“Yes, sweetheart?”


“Is Uncle Nick a pirate?”


“Well, there is treasure buried under the Triskelion.”


Really?”


“Really really.”


“So Uncle Nick’s a pirate?”


“I guess so. But not the kind of pirate who steals things.”


“Just buries ‘em?”


“No, James. The kind of pirate who uses his treasure to help make the world better for everyone. Once he’s got it all gathered up, at least.”


“When’s he gonna do that?”


“Soon. You’ll see. Now, have you got your big kid pants?”


“Uh-huh!”


“All right, let’s go back to the living room.”


“Grandpa?”


“Yes?”


“Are there octopus pull-ups that fit me?”


“I’ll keep an eye out next time I’m at the store.”

Re: [Sequel Fill] "Role Model" Bucky in diapers [1/1]

(Anonymous) - 2015-01-10 07:54 (UTC) - Expand

Re: [Sequel Fill] "Role Model" Bucky in diapers [1/1]

(Anonymous) - 2015-01-10 12:43 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Bucky in diapers

(Anonymous) 2015-01-07 05:50 pm (UTC)(link)
OP here:

I woke up to not one BUT TWO excellent fills this morning!!! Wow, trash babies. One is wonderful adorable crack and one is wrenching trash (with more to come!!). I will leave more detailed comments and gifts, but I just want to say thanks to everyone in the thread. I sat on this prompt for a long time because I was afraid I was the only one in this corner of the dumpster. I'm glad I posted it, even if my kink-shame over this is pretty huge (to the point that I am worried about how I write so no one will know who I am..sorry about that). These fills are amazing. You all are amazing. The dumpster is amazing.

Re: Bucky in diapers

(Anonymous) 2015-01-07 05:54 pm (UTC)(link)
You're definitely not alone in this corner of the dumpster, and thank you for this prompt! I would have made a similar request myself, but I was worried too. My favorite thing about this dumpster is how accepting of each other's garbage we've all turned out to be.

Re: Bucky in diapers

(Anonymous) 2015-01-15 11:11 pm (UTC)(link)
I definitely assumed that nobody besides me was into this kink, and it has been So Wonderful to see all the trash that has come of your prompt!

ART FILL for bucky in diapers

(Anonymous) 2015-01-18 10:10 pm (UTC)(link)
http://feanorinleatherpants.tumblr.com/post/108480350850/do-you-think-the-pink-background-is-too-much

The pattern design I was thinking about for this thread <3

Re: ART FILL for bucky in diapers

(Anonymous) 2015-01-18 10:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Aw hell yes.

NSFW ART FILL: bucky in diapers

(Anonymous) 2015-01-19 03:46 am (UTC)(link)
http://feanorinleatherpants.tumblr.com/post/108509549555/art-fill-for-this-prompt-on-the-hydra-trash-meme

Re: NSFW ART FILL: bucky in diapers

(Anonymous) 2015-01-19 04:58 am (UTC)(link)
MINE EYES HAVE SEEN THE GLORY OF THE COMING OF THE TRASH

Re: NSFW ART FILL: bucky in diapers

(Anonymous) 2015-01-19 10:43 am (UTC)(link)
oh noooooo this is my favourite thing I love u