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

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.

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

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Steve froze at the sound of Natasha's voice, but Bucky was already moving--throwing the gun away, scrambling back from him like he'd thrown the bell.

Steve's hand clamped tight around it. He hadn't. But it still took him a pained, frozen moment to actually turn and see what was happening, and then he just stared.

Natasha had a knife to Bucky's throat, and Bucky's eyes were wide with horror, fixed on Steve. Steve was frozen in turn at the sight of Bucky's terror, realizing how this must seem to Bucky--he must think Steve had asked him to stop, that he'd ignored all the safeguards and really hurt him. Steve just managed to shake his head before the tableau was shattered by Sam, Clint, and--Jesus--Tony, armor and all--bursting out of the elevator.

Sam led the charge, rushing toward Steve, and Steve was frozen all over again by the mounting awfulness of their exposure.

"Don't," Steve said, trying to push Sam away as he reached for Steve's face--the blood would have drawn his attention, of course, but Steve felt himself flushing hot at the realization that Sam would also see the tears he could still feel wet on his cheeks. And no one was going to miss the nakedness, the obvious fact that he'd been in the middle of getting fucked.

Before he could say more everyone was talking--yelling--at once. Natasha was screaming at Bucky in Russian while Clint and Sam crowded around Steve, hands hovering. Tony moved exactly into Steve's eyeline to Bucky, leaving him just imagining that horrified face while he was still trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

"Natasha," Steve snarled, realizing. She'd thought they were planning something sweet. She'd meant to sneak in on them. She'd called for backup when she saw what was happening. "Natasha, don't fucking hurt him--"

"I'll do whatever I have to do," Natasha shouted back, but there was still no sound from Bucky himself, and it was obvious no one was going to listen to reason--

A sharp whistle emerged from every direction at once, and even Steve froze under it before he understood that that was the sound of the cavalry arriving. JARVIS.

Everyone went silent for just long enough to hear JARVIS say in stern but measured tones, "Please unhand Sergeant Barnes, Agent Romanov."

"Uh, buddy," Tony said, "you and I are going to--"

JARVIS overrode Tony ruthlessly. "Sir, please be aware that Captain Rogers expressed affirmative consent at the beginning of this encounter and neither used his safeword nor a nonverbal signal to withdraw that consent at any time before Agent Romanov intervened."

There was a ringing silence in the room. Clint and Sam both drew back from him slightly. Steve shook his hand hard enough to make the bell he still held rattle out its tock tock tock sound.

He heard a breath that was nearly a sob from the other side of all the bodies in the room. That was enough to make him shove to his feet--naked, bleeding, dripping lube, and absolutely furious.

"Get out," Steve said flatly, pointing to the elevators with his free hand. "All of you, now that you've invaded our privacy and poked your fingers into our absolutely consensual sex life, get your hands off of Bucky and get out."

Clint grabbed Sam and bolted for the elevator, and Tony was actually floating gently in the air, giving an apologetic little wave as he said, "I'll, uh, talk to JARVIS about this. Won't happen again, Cap."

Steve didn't even look at him, too fixed on the sight revealed when Tony drew away: Natasha still on her knees by Bucky, her hands spread wide. There were four knives on the floor between them--she'd been disarming him. Bucky had drawn up his knees to his chest and had his face pressed against them, and Natasha was staring at him with an expression that seemed, against all odds, to be concern.

She looked up at Steve, then back to Bucky, and said, formally and seriously, "I'm sorry. I never intended..."

Her hand dropped to the pocket of her jacket, where Steve could just see the corner of something brightly gift-wrapped protruding. "I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."

She stood, nodded to Steve, and walked stiff-legged to the elevator.

Steve dropped to his knees as soon as the elevator doors closed on the others. Bucky didn't move, still curled up small, exactly how he shouldn't be now. He should be the fierce attacker while they were pretending, the competent protector after; he should be furious at being interrupted, careful and self-contained if he didn't want to play. Not silently small and wounded like this.

"Bucky," Steve said softly.

"Did you," Bucky said without picking up his head.

Steve shook his head and shook his left fist, making the bell rattle again.

"I thought you did," Bucky whispered. "When she--I thought I didn't listen, I thought JARVIS had to call for backup."

While he was fucking Steve and Steve was begging him for mercy. Exactly his nightmare come to life.

"No," Steve said softly. "You heard JARVIS. Right? JARVIS, did you sic Natasha on us?"

"I did not," JARVIS said at once. "And I apologize for not preventing the intrusion. She had rendered herself invisible to me, although I believe her intentions were benign, and possibly humorous. Once she declared a security emergency, my protocols did not allow me to interrupt until the second I did."

"She had something in her pocket," Steve added. "A present or something, she was probably just going to leave it where we would see when we got done... fucking for the first time, or whatever she thought we'd worked up to."

Bucky picked up his head and gave Steve a slightly disbelieving look, and Steve shrugged. "I told her way back at the beginning that we were taking it slow, and I never announced that anything had changed. Did you?"

Bucky shook his head slowly.

"Buck," Steve said, splaying out his thumb and first two fingers, showing the bell still held tight against his palm. "The deal is, if I don't tap out, you don't let me off the hook, right? I didn't tap out."

Bucky gave him an even more disbelieving look.

"I still trust you," Steve said softly. "And you still trust me. None of what just happened was your fault or mine, and the fact that they know something about this is no reason to give up what works for us. JARVIS? Are we going to be interrupted again?"

"You will not. Sir has just installed a special protocol to allow me discretion in the event of security alerts regarding Sergeant Barnes, to prevent further misunderstandings."

"Okay, then," Steve said. "Nothing's stopping us from celebrating exactly the way we meant to celebrate."

"Steve," Bucky said. "Are you--how fucking bad do you want to--you're still fucking bleeding."

"Yeah, well, I'm the one who didn't catch myself when I went down," Steve said, rubbing his knuckles across his mouth to smear blood across his cheek. "Just like I'm the one who slicked myself up for you to fuck. Just like I'm the idiot who jerked off before I came out here so I'd scream as soon as you started fucking me."

Bucky's posture shifted as Steve spoke, hardening and tilting forward. Steve almost had him. "Stevie, you--why the fuck would you do that?"

"Because I couldn't stop thinking about what was about to happen," Steve answered honestly. "I knew it was going to be the scariest fucking thing you'd done to me yet, and I knew that afterward you were going to make it up to me, and I couldn't wait."

Bucky raised his eyebrows, lowering one knee enough that Steve could see his dick. It was shiny, half-hard, definitely taking an interest. "Sounds like you're getting trained."

"Sounds like I am," Steve said, licking blood from the corner of his mouth. He closed the fingers of his left hand around the bell again, reached down with his right hand to feel where he was still slick. He'd tensed up pretty badly during the interruption, but it was almost automatic now to ease open at the press of his own fingers.

"So," Steve said. "What are you going to teach me next?"

There was a long moment while they stared at each other, Steve's fingers still working in his ass--the little filthy sound of it was the only thing he could hear. He watched Bucky's gaze flick back and forth from his hand to his face.

"Bucky?" Steve said, watching the line of his shoulders, the tiny motions of his hands.

He saw it coming a second before it happened: Bucky grabbed the nearest knife and sprang at him all in one motion, bowling him over. His head snapped down hard against the kitchen floor, and Bucky shoved the hilt of the knife between his teeth and growled, "I'm gonna teach you to take this."

He shoved his mouth down on Steve's around the knife, forcing his tongue against Steve's in a cruel parody of a kiss.

Steve closed his eyes and wailed a wordless protest as he squeezed the bell tight in his left hand.

THE END

Holy shit, you guys, I finished it?

???????

o.O

So sad it's ending. So happy to be reading this chapter.

UGGGGGGHHH

A million thank yous to you, my most favorite of anons. I really hope you post this to ao3 so I can download it as a pdf and read it on my phone constantly. You are a national treasure.

(Aaand now I wanna read the inevitable group breakfast scene where everyone tries to look like they're NOT thinking about what kinky shits Cap and Bucky are and fail horribly so it's just one instance of awkwardly broken eye contact and nervous laughter after another and Steve is just all, "What? You didn't wanna know, you shouldn't have broken into our fucking house," and Bucky is mortified but maybe secretly a little pleased.)

Thank youuuuu! <3

It should be up on the Ao3 next-week-ish, depending how the editing goes.

My headcanon for after the end is that Steve manages to drop enough not-really-lying hints to Natasha that everyone winds up convinced that it's HIS kink and Bucky is the one lovingly indulging him.

there are no words for how much i fucking love this story. So well done. OMG. I love how PISSED Steve is. Like he's livid because he knows how this really upset Bucky. OMG. I love this so much. Like I cannot even words right now about how much i love all the safe and consensual love in this fic.

*rolls around in this glorious trash*

Oh, man, a smiley face!

I never even thought of having the Soldier be communicating with Steve through letters. That's a great idea. If the Soldier was there, Steve could try to reason with him or hug him into submission, but this way it takes all power out of Steve's hands; he can't reply, he can't apologise, he can't even be sure what the Soldier's trying to achieve. The most he could do would be to stop reading the notes, but Steve's never going to take the less painful option.

It's really interesting that the Soldier started off almost hiding the messages, too. Did he think it was amusing that Steve would look for them, or did he want Steve to come on them unexpectedly? And now he's horrorbombing Steve when he's visiting friends, on his own doorstep, in birthday cards... everywhere he'd expect to be safe. It's all so calculated.

This is amazing, nonny. Great job!

hi satan how's the weather down there

OMG YOU'RE AMAZING

They're so sweet and healthy in their mutually respectful navigation of fucked-up shit!

For three months after Steve’s birthday, there’s dead silence. No letters. No cards. No HYDRA bases picked clean of people and resources. Steve takes to speaking aloud when he’s alone—little things like “You’re my best friend, Bucky” and “I’ll always be here for you”—but there’s never any answer.

And then Steve’s in New York.

It’s not an Avengers’ mission, just a friendly visit. “I’ve finally got the time to start putting together a new art collection,” Pepper had said over the phone. “Tony gave the last one away to the Boy Scouts, and then I became CEO and things were so hectic—”

“Why would he do that?” Steve had asked, sorting through his mail. Nothing from Bucky, so nothing important.

Pepper sighed. “It’s a long story. Anyway, I’d love your input, and Tony’s going stir crazy while Bruce is out of town. I think he might explode if he doesn’t have someone around to marvel at his inventions. How would you feel about a long weekend?”

He’d nearly said no. What if Bucky needed him and he wasn’t there? But Sam and Nat both had expressed concern for the amount of time Steve spent at home, waiting for any sign of missing friend. Besides, if Bucky could freely travel to HYDRA bases, surely he could follow Steve to New York. “That sounds great, Pepper. Thank you.”

On Sunday morning, the second to last day of his visit, when Steve’s dressing after a shower in the suite Tony set up for him, JARVIS informs him that he has an incoming call.

Steve freezes midway through tugging a shirt over his head, hardly daring to hope. “Who’s calling?”

NO NAME WAS GIVEN TO THE RECEPTIONIST, CAPTAIN ROGERS.

“I’ll take it, JARVIS.”

He can hear the phone line connect. At first there’s only silence. Then a faint giggle.

“Bucky?” Steve asks. “Bucky, where are—”

The giggling again. And then a voice he’d know anywhere, a voice that’s been plaguing his nightmares for months. “He used to tell Zola you’d save him.” Bucky’s voice is light, amused, the way he used to sound sharing a joke he’d heard at work. Steve feels like he’s been shot in the gut all over again.

“Bucky.” He keeps his voice level even though his hands are trembling. “I want to help you. You don’t have to be frightened or ashamed, just tell me—

“He told everyone.” Bucky’s voice breaks on the last word, dissolving into stifled laughter. “Used to scream himself hoarse. Steve was coming for him. Steve would save him and tear them all apart. Little idiot never learned.”

“I’m sorry, Bucky. I should have been there for you. I should have—” The words stick in his throat, his mouth bone dry.

“That’s why he didn’t think it was a trick when they told him you were dead,” Bucky continues cheerfully. “If you were alive, of course you’d have rescued him by then. You wouldn’t leave him.”

“Bucky—”

There’s only giggling, then silence. But no click, no dial tone. Bucky hasn’t hung up, just wandered away from the phone.

“JARVIS.” Steve’s voice is low, almost a whisper.

THE CALL IS COMING FROM THE HILTON TIMES SQUARE HOTEL, JARVIS responds just as quietly. He’s even able to trace the call down to the room number.

Steve flies to the elevator, not bothering to inform Tony or Pepper of his sudden departure. JARVIS can handle that if they ask. He charges through the streets on his bike, ignoring traffic laws and stoplights, giving only the faintest regard for pedestrians.

There’s a Do Not Disturb sign hanging from the door handle to Bucky’s hotel room, but the door itself is ajar. Holding his breath, trying to stomp down the hope blooming in his chest, Steve pushes the door fully open.

Bucky’s sitting on the hotel bed.

He’s got on his combat boots, but beyond that, his clothing is civilian: jeans, a partially zipped hoodie, a shirt with some stylized logo Steve thinks belongs to a band. He has motorcycle gloves on either hand, concealing his fingers, and his hair is pulled back in a low, messy ponytail. He’s lost weight, the angles of his cheekbones a little sharper.

Steve stands frozen in the doorway. He’s physically aching with the need to pull Bucky into a hug, the desire to wrap him in the blankets and feed him soup from the room service. He needs to hold him, feel him, promise that he’ll never let go again.

But he’s sure that Bucky’s angry. Why else would he add a smiley face to the birthday card detailing his torture to Steve? Even if that anger’s abated in these last few months, Bucky’s unstable. Easily spooked.

So Steve just stands, smiling as though it isn’t killing him to stay still, and waits for Bucky to make the first move.

The phone at the bedside is hanging off the hook, just brushing the carpet. There’s a faint drone coming from the receiver, and absently Steve wonders who ended the call: Bucky or JARVIS.

Bucky stares at him, tensed. Some of the hair loose from his ponytail hangs down in his face like a failed shroud. He seems about to bolt. But instead, he speaks.

“Ain’t you ever heard of knocking, punk?”

And just like that, Steve’s smile is no longer forced for Bucky’s benefit. “Never claimed to have class.”

Bucky’s awkward when he stands up, like a teen in a growth spurt who hasn’t yet got the hang of his legs. His own smile is strained. But he holds his arms open, fingers twitching as if to beckon Steve in. “C’mon, Stevie. Think I’d still be here if I didn’t wanna see you?”

To hold Bucky, to hear him speak with fondness after the bitterness dripping from his letters, is like a taste of fresh water at sea. Steve hugs him tight, taking in the scent of him: hotel shampoo and coffee and new clothing. He clings to Bucky like a lifeline, feeling his spine too easily through his clothing, burying his face against Bucky’s shoulder, mumbling a string of incoherent promises to never let him go again.

“I was mad,” Bucky whispers. “At you, at everybody. I went to those bases and the files I found—the things they did to him—

Steve’s chest aches. Bucky can’t accept that he was that tortured captive. And Steve wishes to God that his denial was true. “No one’s ever gonna hurt you again, Buck. You’re safe with me. I’ll take care of you this time, I promise.”

“They couldn’t use regular sedatives on him in the tests,” Bucky goes on. His voice cracks and he’s shifting, squirming a little in Steve’s grip. Steve isn’t sure if he’s hearing anything around him. “Couldn’t use normal tranq darts if he misbehaved in the field.”

“You’re safe, Bucky.” Steve rubs his hand across his friend’s shoulders, refusing to wince at the sensation of metal beneath the jacket. “You’re free now. Forever.”

“They had to tailor chemicals just for his metabolism,” Bucky says, choked and tight. “Had to make stuff like this.”

There’s a sharp prick to Steve’s throat.

Bucky shoves him back and Steve trips, finding himself sitting on the floor. His fingers, frantic and searching, grab hold of a tranquilizer dart stuck in his neck. “Buck—”

Bucky’s tight and twitching smile grows. He steps around Steve, locking the door. He’s giggling, just as light and pleasant as he’d sounded on the phone. “They kept those at some bases too, the darts. Swiped them along with the records.”

Steve’s head is already swimming. He tries to stand, but his limbs won’t respond. “Whatever happened to you, I can help—”

Settling onto the bed, Bucky smirks, letting his hair down. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

Glad to be of service!

I shall treasure it always.

Calculated little shit Winter Soldier was surprisingly fun to write. And I need to work the term "horrorbombing" into conversations now.

The Soldier is intensely aware of the way Steve was able to talk him down on the helicarriers, so he's trying to avoid giving him the opportunity again, at least for now.

I'm imagining the Soldier giggling, watching Steve unwind whole rolls of toilet paper in HYDRA bathrooms, searching for a message.

The humidity's the worst thing.

Bucky you shit

Oh my GOD. Bucky you devious little shit. He even had ME fooled.

OMG I LOVE THIS

HYDRA forces the Winter Soldier/Bucky to watch footage of his own rapes and trash parties while strapped to a fucking machine so he can only get off to the visual of his experiences of being raped. If he tries to close his eyes they shock him with the stun baton, so he has to keep watching, sometimes for days on a loop, coming dry.

Bonus: After the events of CA:TWS, Bucky hunts down all of the HYDRA bases for the footage so he can watch them in secret, until Steve finds out.

Jfc, this is so deliciously trashy. I need it.

I LOVE YOU

AND NOW IM GONNA READ THE WHOLE THING OVER IN ONE GO <3

FUUUUCK

Many thanks from the author! Glad you enjoyed.

OMG, that was incredible but in lieu of gushing I'm just going to beg to know exactly what Natasha was yelling at Bucky in Russian. Because I bet it's devastating and Bucky will never tell Steve.

<3 weeping

*shuffles feet* I wrote the above kinkmeme fill, and I am embarrassed to admit that I probably drew on "War Is Over..." unconsciously, since it is a fic that I have definitely read and admired. I owe the author a great deal of credit, and also, very likely, an apology.

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Page 104 of 222

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

FILL: Lamb and Martyr, 18c/18

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Re: FILL: Lamb and Martyr, 18b/18

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Re: FILL: Lamb and Martyr, 18c/18

OP

Re: [Fill] "I Did It Looking There in the Mirror" The Winter Soldier wants to hurt Steve [1/?]

Re: FILL: Lamb and Martyr, 18c/18

[Fill] "I Did It Looking There in the Mirror" The Winter Soldier wants to hurt Steve [2/3]

Re: [Fill] "I Did It Looking There in the Mirror" The Winter Soldier wants to hurt Steve [1/?]

Re: [Fill] "I Did It Looking There in the Mirror" The Winter Soldier wants to hurt Steve [1/?]

Re: OP

Re: [Fill] "I Did It Looking There in the Mirror" The Winter Soldier wants to hurt Steve [1/?]

Re: [Fill] "I Did It Looking There in the Mirror" The Winter Soldier wants to hurt Steve [2/3]

Re: [Fill] "I Did It Looking There in the Mirror" The Winter Soldier wants to hurt Steve [2/3]

Re: [Fill] "I Did It Looking There in the Mirror" The Winter Soldier wants to hurt Steve [2/3]

rape conditioning, fucking machines

Re: rape conditioning, fucking machines

Re: FILL: Lamb and Martyr, 18c/18

Re: [Fill] "I Did It Looking There in the Mirror" The Winter Soldier wants to hurt Steve [2/3]

Re: Untitled Mini-Fill: Bucky and Dr. Ivchenko

Re: FILL: Lamb and Martyr, 18c/18

Re: Untitled Mini-Fill: Bucky and Dr. Ivchenko

Re: Bucky and Dr. Ivchenko