trashmod: (Default)
garbage all the way down ([personal profile] trashmod) wrote in [community profile] hydratrashmeme2014-05-30 05:23 pm

Trash Party Dumpster #1

(Will be continued in a Dumpster #2 post if by some unholy hell-miracle this post hits the 5000-comment limit.)

Filthy anon dumpster for sad hobos to fling moldy pizza crusts, raccoon eye makeup tips, and garbage about their sad trash kinks at each other.

AKA the Hydra Trash Party kinkmeme. One hundred percent Hydra Party Favor Bucky Barnes, Is It Sexy Violence Or Violent Sex?, and Bad Guys Do Bad Things To Your Faves: Winter Soldier Edition. BLANKET NON-CON/DUB-CON WARNING, not safe for work, not safe for life, not safe for anyone, read at your own risk of becoming one of us.

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, etc. are off-topic.

Organization: hydratrashmeme Pinboard archive maintained by [personal profile] greenkirtle. If you fill a prompt, drop a link at the fill post. Discussion threads now have a chatter post.

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GO TO TOWN, TRASHBABIES.

Unholy hell-miracle achieved! Round 1 is closed; comments and fills in existing threads are still welcome, but all new prompts go to Round 2.

Steve/everyone, elevator take 2

(Anonymous) 2014-05-30 11:25 pm (UTC)(link)
Steve says "Before we get started, does anyone want to get off?" instead of "get out" and the elevator scene ends in a gangbang.

Re: Steve/everyone, elevator take 2

(Anonymous) 2014-06-02 03:44 pm (UTC)(link)
"Before we get started," Steve says, "does anyone want to get off?"

There's maybe two seconds of silence as they realize the game is up and brace themselves to start punching. Or so he thinks. Then one of the men in business suits says, "You know, I might just have to take you up on that."

By the time Steve figures out why the guy's laughing instead of crapping his pants, they've already slapped the magnetic handcuffs on his wrists and Rollins is doing his damndest to knock his feet out from under him. He recovers from his moment of hesitation and punches hard, but he's wrong-footed and hampered by the cuffs' magnetic pull. And the worst part is, he can't even blame that colossal boner on the vagaries of twenty-first century slang. He's got an anecdote dating right back to the forties that made the Howling Commandos laugh themselves sick at the time, involving a captured Focke-Wulf bomber and the sentence "don't blow your load before the rest of us get off." You'd think he would've remembered after that.

-

Sorry, did he say that was the worst part? No, the worst part is that these clowns don't know when to let go of a joke. He doesn't know what their exact orders are for this little ambush--kill him or capture him for Pierce to play more games with him, probably--but he's pretty sure that whatever those orders are, they aren't being served by pinning him facedown, mag-cuffed hand and foot to the elevator floor, and chortling about sodomy like a bunch of schoolkids who just found out why Uncle Allen's been living with his roommate for the past thirty years. All it took was one of the suits--currently unconscious in the corner, because it's not like Steve was going down without a fight--saying "Hey, none of you are going to say no when Captain America makes you an offer you can't refuse, are you?" and now one of the guys pinning him seems to be humping his leg just to annoy him and the ones who aren't busy hitting him are joking about some porno called Captain Twink and the Backdoor Commandos that Steve's really glad he's never seen.

One of them, egged on by a guy who's still gasping on the floor from a fall that broke his ankle and a few ribs, starts cutting Steve's combat suit off with a knife, and that's a little more worrying. Not only is it an awfully long way to carry a joke that wasn't even funny in the first place, Steve can't take nearly as much damage from the stun batons without the thick layers of padding. He's about to tell them to cut the crap, stop embarrassing themselves, and do the job they were sent in to do--but then some bastard decides to shove his finger where the sun don't shine, and Steve realizes this is even less funny than he'd thought.

-

Rumlow--Rumlow!--calls first dibs. Whatever qualms Steve may have had about the teams and missions SHIELD had saddled him with, however willing Rumlow might've been to turn around and attack him on orders from higher up, he would not have pegged Rumlow as the type to volunteer for a sick stunt like this. Let alone to do it by responding to Steve's quiet, serious "Rumlow, don't do this. Don't get involved in this mess" with "I worked closest with him, I'm going first. Before he's too dripping with jizz to feel a goddamn thing around your dick."

Rumlow ignores the glare of contemptuous disbelief Steve fixes on him as he unzips his fly. "Sorry, Cap," he says, getting into position behind him, "but this is gonna hurt."

Steve grunts, unwilling to show any signs of fear or intimidation, even if he might be screaming a little inside. "More straightforward than the alternative," he mutters.

"Yeah, I know," Rumlow smirks. "I'll be expecting a thank-you card on your best stationery." And Steve has to close his eyes and press his face into the floor for a second, because it's exactly the same as their usual line of banter, except what Rumlow's being sardonic about is the idea that Steve should somehow be grateful to him for making it hurt instead of trying to make Steve enjoy being--

It hurts. As promised, it hurts like hell. Rumlow forces it in dry with almost no warning, and whatever Steve might've imagined it would feel like to be fucked, this just feels like he's being ripped apart. Which is a feeling he could deal with, if he could avoid thinking about literally any other aspect of what's going on.

Which means, in reality, there is no way on earth he can deal with this.

-

Whatever internal damage Rumlow caused turns out to be the gift that keeps on giving, because even though the next two guys go slow and paw ineffectually at Steve's junk, it still hurts too much for them to get anything but bitter, ragged laughter out of him. They can't be on much of a time limit, because they're going one by one taking turns, drawing out the ordeal as long as possible. Steve would almost rather be piled on en masse than have nothing to distract him but the sight of ten guys palming themselves through their trousers and arguing over who'll get him next.

At one point they get the bright idea of going two at once, one at each end. That lasts all of a minute before Steve almost bites off the first cock to get shoved in his mouth. The kick to the face he gets in retaliation knocks a tooth loose, but it's worth it just for the inhuman shriek he elicited and the sobs now emanating steadily from one corner of the elevator.

-

Steve never thought he'd have cause to regret the super-healing, but round four barely hurts at all and now his fifth assailant is pounding steadily at an angle that... doesn't feel good, exactly, but gets him half-hard and dripping with pre-come, to a round of gleeful jeering and catcalling when the others notice. It really isn't pleasure, just pressure against some unidentifiable internal organ (pressure from the inside, and doesn't that just make him want to retch all over the floor) that's having some unwelcome visible side effects and making him feel like he's got to pee. He hasn't been this aware of his body as a slab of meat since his last bout with pneumonia before the serum.

Rollins is on deck and looks scared shitless. Keeps darting glances at the guy in the corner whose dick almost got bitten off. Three or four of the others shove him forward, laughing and hissing encouragement in his ear, and he visibly steels himself before lunging in to try to stroke Steve to full hardness. The bastards want to make him come while he's being held down and gang-raped on the floor, and the prospect is enough to make him shudder--but luckily for him, and unluckily for Rollins and whoever's pounding away back there, he's finally shifted his weight and maneuvered his knees and elbows into a position where he can put the strength of the magnetic cuffs to a serious test. He briefly manages to wrench one of his ankles free, feels it being pulled back to the floor too hard for him to keep it up, and just manages to cross his leg over the leg of the guy behind him before it slams back to the floor. There's a crack and a reedy scream as the man's leg breaks. Rollins swears and starts babbling--"Fuck, Rogers, don't kill me, I didn't want in on this, I was just going to help take you into custody, c'mon, you saw, they were making me--" and doesn't shut up until Steve spits, "Well, then you can tell them it wasn't your fault because I overpowered you," yanks one of his wrists off the floor with a groan, and clocks him around the head with the metal cuff. He goes down like a load of bricks.

Then it comes down to a fight between Steve Rogers' one available fist and the two or three guys who aren't either incapacitated or too fucked-out to contribute much. It's a fair enough fight that it takes Steve a few minutes to go down, and when he does there's only one attacker left in any kind of state to take revenge on him. This time, he doesn't have to worry about anyone trying to make him feel good.

-

In the control room, Jasper Sitwell stares open-mouthed at the security footage. "You have got to be kidding me. Get some reinforcements in there, pronto."

-

The reinforcements don't even comment on the situation in the elevator, half of whose occupants are out cold or nursing grievous bodily harm. The other half, exhausted, most of them with their pants still open, look more than happy to leave other people with the task of keeping Captain America restrained, except for Rumlow who elects to come with them. Steve is put in heavy-duty cuffs and escorted at gunpoint to the holding cells in the fifth sub-basement that aren't officially supposed to exist.

Alexander Pierce is waiting for him in an antechamber separated from the cell by foot-thick glass. He looks Steve up and down--bruised, half-naked, his suit in tatters, covered in blood that's only half his own, semen from half a dozen different men starting to trickle down the backs of his thighs--and flicks a piece of lint off his own impeccable suit. "Captain Rogers," he says. "I was told that the team assigned to take you into custody got a little carried away when you resisted, but not to what extent. I'm impressed."

Steve stares him down. "If you were hoping you could still persuade me to give you information about Fury, you just blew whatever chance you had left."

"I figured." Pierce sighs. "Persuasion was always a weak tool in the first place, but still. It's a pity to have to move on to messier methods." He beckons Rumlow into the room; Rumlow hands him the Captain America shield, and Pierce leans in to murmur in his ear. "Bring the asset down. Tell him we need him to conduct an interrogation."

Re: Steve/everyone, elevator take 2

(Anonymous) 2014-06-04 02:24 am (UTC)(link)
I'm going to read the rest in a sec but

colossal boner

YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE

Re: Steve/everyone, elevator take 2

(Anonymous) 2014-06-04 02:36 am (UTC)(link)
:D :D :D I was hoping someone would notice!

Re: Steve/everyone, elevator take 2

(Anonymous) 2014-06-04 07:28 am (UTC)(link)
I CAN'T EMPHASISE ENOUGH HOW MUCH OF A MASTERPIECE THIS IS.

Re: Steve/everyone, elevator take 2

(Anonymous) 2014-06-04 07:33 am (UTC)(link)
:DDDD Thank you!

Re: Steve/everyone, elevator take 2

(Anonymous) 2014-06-06 03:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Hahahaha I noticed the same exact thing! PERF

Re: Steve/everyone, elevator take 2

(Anonymous) 2014-06-06 07:04 pm (UTC)(link)
oh my god... DYING to read what happens when the Winter Soldier gets there T_T

Elevator take 2, SEQUEL 1/?

(Anonymous) 2014-06-07 12:47 pm (UTC)(link)
The Winter Soldier stares blankly at Rumlow. "An interrogation?"

"That's what the boss-man said. C'mon."

He doesn't repeat the question, just follows Rumlow out to the parking garage and into a car with tinted windows and two more handlers waiting for him inside. Still, he is puzzled. The Winter Soldier is an assassin, not a torturer. He specializes in dealing death as quickly and silently as possible. The fine art of making a man wish he were dead without ever striking the mortal blow is not part of his arsenal; persuasion, manipulation, knowing exactly where to chip away at a target's psyche, are as foreign to him as the sculptor's craft is to a statue. Even his own psyche is foreign to him most of the time. He suspects it's easier that way.

Still, if there is one thing the Winter Soldier excels at, it's following orders.

Another parking garage, another set of corridors, a trip downwards in a biometrically-secured elevator deep in the bowels of the building. He passes one of his guns off to a handler--he won't need it--and exchanges it for an extra set of knives. Rumlow hands him an object that looks a little bit like a baton but doesn't have enough weight to it. "Stun stick," he says. "Fun little toy."

Without breaking stride, the Winter Soldier tests it out on his own right thigh, one of the few parts of him that isn't under body armor. It produces a satisfactory burst of pain that isn't disabling beyond turning his leg numb for a few moments. On a normal human the effects will be more severe but still non-lethal. He nods to Rumlow, holds a hand out for the holster, and straps it around his waist.

Pierce is waiting for them at the cell. "There you are," he says with a genial smile, ushering them into the antechamber. "No trouble on the way over?"

The Winter Soldier stands in silence. Pierce is a politician; small talk is part of his skill set. He knows very well that his prize asset has a very different skill set, and doesn't miss a beat when he gets no response. "We've captured the man who was pursuing you last night. He was with the target when you eliminated him, and I've got reason to believe the target passed some valuable information to him before he died. I need you to find out what he knows and who else he's told."

"Why me?"

Pierce looks annoyed at being questioned, but he answers all the same. "Let's just say I've got reason to believe you'll make an impact on him," he says. "I know it's not your usual line of work, but it's not complicated. Keep hurting him until he talks. The team who brought him in already softened him up for you. He's just had a dozen guys make him their bitch, he should be a wreck already."

The Winter Soldier has forgotten most of the slang he doesn't need on missions, but he has no need to ask what 'making him their bitch' means. It's a phrase he's heard often enough, though always in reference to the pleasure of the men doing it, his own like or dislike of the activity being utterly irrelevant. The idea that it could be strategically used to render an ordinary man 'a wreck' is curious to him. "Is that a valid interrogation technique?" he asks.

"Hm?" Pierce gives a start, and pauses in confusion for a moment. Then he looks straight at the Winter Soldier and his eyes crinkle up in a smile. "You know what, why not? Give it a try if you want to. Just one thing, though..."

The Winter Soldier waits patiently.

"Make sure he enjoys it."

Re: Elevator take 2, SEQUEL 1/?

(Anonymous) 2014-06-07 02:50 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh god, this is everything I was ashamed to be hoping for.

Re: Elevator take 2, SEQUEL 1/?

(Anonymous) 2014-06-07 03:09 pm (UTC)(link)
This is quite possibly the greatest trash party fic ever.

Re: Elevator take 2, SEQUEL 1/?

(Anonymous) 2014-06-07 03:11 pm (UTC)(link)
I am silent-screaming into my hands.

Re: Elevator take 2, SEQUEL 1/?

(Anonymous) 2014-06-07 03:35 pm (UTC)(link)
god fuckin bless you anon

Elevator take 2, SEQUEL 2/?

(Anonymous) 2014-06-07 04:02 pm (UTC)(link)
(Uh warning for some graphic violence in this one, although actually no more than Cap himself did in CA:TWS. Still. If you don't like blood BAIL OUT NOW.)

Inside the cell are three men. One of them, blond, well-muscled, heavily restrained, wearing the tattered remains of a dark blue combat suit--the man who followed the Winter Soldier last night--is curled up on the floor, and the other two are kicking him. More softening-up, evidently. The man on the floor doesn't look very softened; on entering the room, the Winter Soldier grabs one of the assailants by the collar of his t-shirt and hauls him back just in time to get him clear of a kick that would've cracked his shin.

"Leave," the Winter Soldier says flatly, and both of them cut and run without waiting to be told twice.

There's a cot in the corner, bolted to the floor. He sits down and examines the captive before doing anything else. From this angle the man's back is to him, and the ripped-open combat suit exposes a great deal of flesh, mottled with bruises that are already going greenish-yellow in places as though they've been there for a week. Interesting. It's probable, of course, that this simply isn't the first fight this man's been in recently, but the absence of fresh bruising raises the possibility that he heals even faster than the Winter Soldier. The cuffs securing his arms behind his back are massive, as are the ones on his ankles. A dull smear of blood between his buttocks confirms what Pierce told him about his prior treatment.

The captive spits blood on the floor and, without moving the rest of his body, turns his head to get a look at the newcomer. His eyes widen. "You," he whispers hoarsely.

The Winter Soldier is already thinking about what his knives could do to all that flesh.

"You killed Nick Fury."

Nick Fury. He hadn't known the target's name. Sometimes he did learn their names, when he had to research them to track them down, but this job had been engineered by a large team working separately from his usual handlers. He was just the failsafe in case the target proved difficult to kill.

"What are you doing here?" asks the man on the floor, his voice taut with anger. "Did they capture you too?"

The Winter Soldier narrows his eyes. It occurs to him that this man knows him only as a lone assassin, and that he could try to trick him into revealing information by pretending to be a fellow prisoner, apprehended for the murder of this Nick Fury. But his cunning is all battle-cunning, and he has no grasp of the manipulation that might let him turn such a charade to his advantage. Keep hurting him until he talks. He draws one of his knives, idly flipping it in the air, backhand to forward and back again. "You were with him when he died," he says, enunciating clearly through his face mask so he won't have to repeat himself. "He told you something. You're going to tell me what it is, and who else you spoke to about it."

The man sighs and sets his jaw determinedly. "No, I'm not."

The Winter Soldier lunges, gets two knees to the solar plexus that hurt even through the thick leather and padding, and remembers too late that this man is fast as well as strong. He vows not to repeat that mistake. There's a brief tussle on the floor, and he holds back just enough to let the man end up with his back up against the edge of the cot, gripping the bedframe for leverage as he brings his knees up to his chest for a powerful kick. Then the Winter Soldier uses his metal arm to drive a knife through the captive's hand and right through the bedframe, pinning him in place.

He waits until the howl of agony has subsided into strangled groans, and says, "Let me know when you change your mind."

Re: Elevator take 2, SEQUEL 2/?

(Anonymous) 2014-06-07 04:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Jesus Christ. I need more of this!

Re: Elevator take 2, SEQUEL 2/?

(Anonymous) 2014-06-07 05:08 pm (UTC)(link)
this is fucking awesome anon can't wait for more!!

Elevator take 2, SEQUEL 3/?

(Anonymous) 2014-06-07 05:55 pm (UTC)(link)
(Before you ask: yes it's a tribute to that one piece of stereowire's fanart. YOU KNOW THE ONE. There was no way in all the special hells that I could have resisted.)

Around his choked noises of pain, the captive articulates a single word: “No.

The Winter Soldier sits back down on the edge of the cot, one boot resting on the man's legs to keep him from thrashing, one hand keeping the knife in place. He shoves the man's shoulder so he's lying half-facedown, half on his side, and ponders the expanse of canvas in front of him. He could just leave an indiscriminate mass of cuts all over that bare back, of course. Or he could give this man something to remember him by. At that thought, something long dormant stirs within him, and he has the strange fleeting feeling that he's the one who is failing to remember something, something vital, right on the tip of his tongue. The feeling passes as quickly as it came, but it leaves an image in its wake.

He flips out another knife and begins to cut. Ten cuts, deep and perfectly straight. It was the silver star on that ragged uniform that gave him the idea, but he likes it more and more as he goes. There was a star like that on the shield the man had flung at him, too. But it's the star on his own metal arm that makes him carve into the flesh with such relish—after all, only one of the three is red.

His victim has stopped crying out, but while the knife is working a low whine emerges from between his gritted teeth, rising and falling with his heaving breath. When the Winter Soldier pulls away to inspect his handiwork, the whine fades away but the breaths stay just as ragged, and he notices that the man is gripping the bedframe white-knuckled, despite the pain it must be causing in the hand that's still impaled. He rattles that knife back and forth just to hear the man's gasp and muffled curse.

“Why are you doing this?” the captive chokes out.

Keep hurting him until he talks. The Winter Soldier doesn't answer. He traces over the cuts, now bleeding freely, with the first finger of his left hand, smearing fresh bright red all over the metal. He looks between the man's legs, at the filthy dark-red bloodstains mingled with drying come, and thinks about Pierce's suggestion. Slowly, he reaches down and draws his finger along that cleft. Fresh bright red on top of the dull dried bloodstains. The noise the man makes is indescribable.

“Oh Christ, not that,” he says, his voice more forceful now, the words more distinct. “Not you too. I thought you were gonna be more creative than the others.”

Something in his voice gives the Winter Soldier pause, and he has to fight back a ludicrous twinge of embarrassment before he reminds himself that he's not here to be creative. No, not embarrassment—shame. Why is he ashamed at the disappointment in this man's voice, even when it's clearly bluster? It goes against everything he is trained to be. True, he can't help the glimmer of respect he feels for the man and his bravery. But he is the Winter Soldier. The only disappointment he need ever be ashamed of is his superiors' if he fails a mission, and he does not fail. Ever. His lips curl into a snarl behind his mask, and he forces his finger inside.

Re: Elevator take 2, SEQUEL 3/?

(Anonymous) 2014-06-07 08:48 pm (UTC)(link)
I am so into this it isn't even funny omg. MOARrrr <3

Re: Elevator take 2, SEQUEL 3/?

(Anonymous) 2014-06-08 01:26 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh dear lord. This is amazing. All of it. So amazing.

Re: Elevator take 2, SEQUEL 3/?

(Anonymous) 2014-06-08 01:34 pm (UTC)(link)
*golf clap*

Re: Elevator take 2, SEQUEL 3/?

(Anonymous) 2014-06-08 01:37 pm (UTC)(link)
This is made of layer upon layer of filthy trash porn. Thank you.

Elevator take 2, SEQUEL 4/?

(Anonymous) 2014-06-08 08:22 pm (UTC)(link)
Most of the HYDRA agents who have discovered that the Winter Soldier's obedience can be turned to sexual ends pay no attention to his enjoyment, except to deny him release--a form of discipline that does not trouble him, accustomed as he is to indifference towards his own body--or demand that he put on an exaggerated show for them. But a long time ago, back in the Soviet days, there was a woman attached to the scientific team who had taken an almost academic interest in how to wring the maximum amount of pleasure from her subject's body, with or without his cooperation. Time passes both quicker and slower for the Winter Soldier than it does for the rest of the world, and he cannot remember the woman's face. But his sense-memories are sufficiently intact that he knows what techniques to employ to fulfil the final part of Pierce's orders. Make him enjoy it.

It's not easy. The men who went before him have inflicted enough injury that even the insertion of one finger clearly causes pain. And the captive is tensed up against him and resisting every step of the way. Still, the difficulty only increases the Winter Soldier's satisfaction when he locates the correct place to probe with his finger to elicit a choked-off gasp and a twitch of the man's flaccid penis. He repeats the gesture more firmly, with his thumb jammed up against the tender spot behind the subject's testicles, and is rewarded with a quickly-stifled sob as the man's body betrays him.

The Winter Soldier's body is a tool that does not belong to him; even the idea that sexual use could be wielded as a form of cruelty hadn't occurred to him until Pierce had mentioned it, so the idea of pleasure as a weapon, of compounding the target's distress by making them enjoy their own violation, hadn't even been comprehensible to him when he began to carry out the order. Now, though, he can appreciate his superior's genius. It is devastatingly effective. The sob was a one-time loss of control and doesn't happen again, but the more erect the captive gets, the more frantically he fidgets and darts his glance around the room, seeking an escape route. He is an animal trapped in his own skin.

The Winter Soldier shifts off the cot to kneel straddling the man's legs, partly to control the fitful, anxious kicking, partly for a more convenient range of motion. He begins to slide his finger in and out and finds that it glides easily—unsurprising, given how many men have probably ejaculated inside him already. The captive turns his head to stare at the Winter Soldier with something very much like hatred in his eyes. It's not the first time one of his victims has looked at him like that, but it is the first time it's made him feel the need to drop his own gaze and concentrate on his work. He wraps his flesh hand around the man's erection and gives it a few loose pulls, which earns him a muffled curse and a deep shudder that wracks the man's whole body.

In retrospect, both avoiding the captive's eyes and letting go of the knife to jerk him off were enormous blunders. He has underestimated this man yet again; he must have been waiting for his chance the whole time. With an almighty effort and a roar of pain, he wrenches his hands free of the bedframe and swings them at the Winter Soldier's face. The Winter Soldier sees the blade of his own knife coming towards him, emerging from through the man's palm, and looks up just in time for the knife to slam harmlessly against his face mask and clatter to the floor instead of stabbing him through the eye. But now the man's grabbing him by the face. The Winter Soldier lets go of the man's erection and darts his right hand up to subdue him, but it's too late.

The mask goes skittering across the floor to the opposite corner of the cell.

The captive stares over his shoulder at the Winter Soldier, all the hatred on his face replaced by open, wide-eyed shock. He stops struggling and collapses limply to the floor. “Bucky?” he whispers.

The Winter Soldier's got no idea who that is or why the apparent sight of him has sapped this man's will to fight. He drives his finger in deeper. “Who the hell is Bucky?” he growls.

Re: Elevator take 2, SEQUEL 4/?

(Anonymous) 2014-06-08 09:19 pm (UTC)(link)
This fill has wrecked me, anon. Wrecked me. This is so so good.

Re: Elevator take 2, SEQUEL 4/?

(Anonymous) 2014-06-08 09:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Thank you! Believe me, it has been so much fun to write so far.

Elevator take 2, SEQUEL 5/?

(Anonymous) 2014-06-08 11:13 pm (UTC)(link)
“Bucky, stop. Think about this. You don't want to do this. I don't know how you survived, I don't know what they did to you, but this—this isn't you. They did something to your head, and you've got to snap out of it. 'Cause if you—the real you—if you could see yourself right now, you'd deck me across the face for letting it get this far.”

“Shut up!” the Winter Soldier snarls. He yanks the stun baton out of its holster and brings it down hard on the meat of the prisoner's upper back, where the outline of a star is still bleeding.

The man jerks and twitches but keeps going. “Bucky, it's me. It's Steve. Steve Rogers. We've been best friends our whole lives. C'mon, Bucky, don't do this. We've gotta get out of here.”

The Winter Soldier pulls his finger out and grabs Steve Rogers—there's no reason to believe that's not his name—by the hair with his metal hand. “I am not your friend,” he snarls. “Would your friend do this?” He pushes the stun stick between Rogers' legs, where his finger had been, and forcibly turns the man's head around to look.

Rogers goes very still, whether it's from the crude threat or the awareness that the Winter Soldier is within inches of snapping his neck. But his voice stays steady. “You might not know it right now, but yeah, you are. And whether or not you know it, I'm still your friend, which means it's my job to look out for your stupid ass. So stop and think. They know who I am, they have to know who you are. SHIELD's got trained interrogators on hand, but they sent you in to torture me, knowing it might compromise what they did to your head. And they've got big plans coming up. Whatever they were using you for, they don't need you anymore. You're expendable to them, Buck.”

“I said shut up!” His heart rate is up. He realizes he's ferociously angry, but he's not sure at whom. Steve Rogers is the closest target to hand, though, so he stands up and drags Rogers to his knees by the hair. Pierce's answer to his impertinent question comes back to him: I've got reason to believe you'll make an impact on him. The nagging feeling that there's something he's forgotten returns in full force, and he feels dizzy, unstable, like the time a stakeout stretched out for three days and he didn't know why he was getting so careless and confused until he was back at headquarters and a technician asked, Has he eaten anything this whole time? But even if he used to be called Bucky once and he's forgotten, he's still the Winter Soldier and he's still got a mission, and he knows a way to make Steve Rogers shut the hell up that's well within his mission parameters. He holsters the stun baton and unfastens his fly.

Rogers blanches when the Winter Soldier comes around to stand in front of him, metal hand still curled into a fist in his hair. “Bucky, no—”

The Winter Soldier reaches down to the cot with his free hand and retrieves the bloodstained knife he'd used on Rogers' back. He holds it to his throat and says, “Yes.”

He is gambling on the fact that Rogers has stopped fighting back ever since the mask came off, and on the assumption that he loves his friend too much to inflict a gruesome injury with his teeth just to avoid some humiliation. He is also gambling on his own poker face, because he's reeling so hard that he doesn't think he could bring himself to kill Rogers for refusing this, but he's given no outward sign of hesitation. He's hoping that the knife hovering over Rogers' carotid artery is a persuasive argument.

If Rogers realizes he's bluffing, he doesn't call him on it. Instead, with a look of abject misery on his face, he leans forward to take the Winter Soldier in his mouth.

Re: Elevator take 2, SEQUEL 5/?

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Post-credit scenes!

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