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.

[Round 1] [Fill post] [Chatter post] [hydratrashmeme Pinboard archive (maintained by

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.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh yeah. And it's oddly sweet too, the idea that Bucky loves Steve enough to try to be with him even with that internal war tearing him apart. Like, "Oh god this is SO WRONG but I'll do it if that's what Steve wants."

(OP)

Oh dude, oh no, giving Bucky a friend is something he greets with such relief, but I am paranoid now and I see only a new vulnerability. You're walking this great line with Bucky's characterization, where he's broken in many ways but he still has hope and he still has plans. And I am afraid of/looking forward to seeing him get robbed of that as well.

I think Thompson seems like a sweet kid, and something that's really effective about your characterization of him is the way his sort of immediate hero-worship of Bucky contrasts and highlights the dehumanization that Bucky has endured from Hydra. Bucky (and I) have adjusted to his fucked up little life, and throwing in a stranger who doesn't know the rules emphasizes how fucked up it is.

I loved Bucky's denial that they've tortured him (he really believes this, nooooo), and the way Bucky reacts when they come to take him to his session; the new arrival hasn't shocked him out of his normalization of his routine -- which hurt me, thinking about how what's routine for Bucky would appall Thompson -- but he hopes to be allowed to hide the evidence so the kid won't know, and that is ALSO TERRIBLE.

Bucky laughed. The sound startled him: he hadn’t heard anything like it in a long time.

no it's okay I'm just sobbing hysterically, a little

(this little bit of respite makes the pain so much worse!)

Also how long until Bucky finds out Steve is dead? how longgg

How about a fully Crossbones-clad Rumlow hate-fucking a beat up, bound Steve and telling him, "“He remembered you, you know — your pal, your buddy, your Bucky”.

My needs are simple.

SO MUCH THIS

Bucky compulsively giving "first aid" to Steve and other Avengers is such a good image, both for trash and for aftermath, and Steve not realizing it is even better! I would read this so hard

Does this need a spoiler tag? Do we have a Cap 3 spoiler policy in place yet, trash!mod?

Oh, this is awesome. This is like every twisted power and control experiment done irl taken to glorious, trashy extremes.

And Bucky thinks "Well we aren't very brotherly brothers" but he doesn't want to say anything out loud because he loves being with Steve SO MUCH that he doesn't want to do anything to ruin it by making Steve "see reason."

In the white-tiled room, Bucky stripped without needing to be told. He folded and arranged every piece of his outfit neatly, and even brushed his too-long hair back out of his eyes before he got on his knees in the center of the room, where he began each day. He would be on his best behavior and show Müller how compliant he’d become. He’d demonstrate appropriate gratitude for having been given the privilege of some company.

Müller stepped up before him and raised an eyebrow, taking in Bucky’s bowed head, his hand relaxed against his bare thigh. “You are very accommodating this morning, Sergeant. I hope you had a restful evening.”

Someone behind him laughed—Schreiber, maybe, whose voice was like sandpaper—but Bucky ignored it. It didn’t matter what they thought of him, especially now that he wouldn’t be here much longer. Let them see him as a useless coward; he knew better.

“Yes,” he said, with his eyes on Müller’s highly polished boots. “Do you want to start now?”

A faint clank interrupted Müller’s answer as the door swung open; the hinges here were kept oiled and in better shape than Bucky’s cell. From his place on the floor, Bucky turned his head to look: sometimes a doctor or another officer came to watch and take notes. Instead, he saw two of his regular guards, Lange and Günther, leading PFC Thompson.

Thompson’s eyes darted around the room, taking in the guards and Müller and landing on Bucky where he knelt naked and unbound in the center of the floor. Bucky’s mouth opened, but he couldn’t speak.

“Mitcommen,” Lange said, and prodded Thompson in the back. They led him to the corner, where he had a perfect view of the proceedings.

Bucky looked up at Müller, who smiled down at him as if nothing were wrong. “This is no different than any other day, Sergeant Barnes. You may continue. Would you prefer to suck cock first or be sodomized?”

Bucky’s eyes darted to Thompson, who stared back at him, blue eyes wide.

“As far as I can tell, you enjoy both equally, so I will leave the choice up to you.” When Bucky turned his face to the floor, determinedly trying not to think past the buzzing in his head, Müller stepped forward and tipped his chin up with one finger. “Surely you are not acting shy? This is nothing you haven’t done before, Sergeant. On many occasions.”

“I…” Bucky wanted to explain that he wasn’t kneeling here passively of his own volition. It was all part of a plan. He didn’t want to do this. When he risked a glance to the corner, Thompson was looking back and forth between Müller and Bucky, brow furrowed.

“After all, this arrangement exists because you have requested it.” Müller drew his hand away and took a step back, the better to look down at Bucky with that infuriatingly calm, expectant smile. “As always, Sergeant Barnes, the choice to proceed is your own. However, I am certain you understand there will be consequences if you do not fulfill the bargain you have made.”

With a sudden swell of fear, Bucky looked Thompson over. He still wore his uniform, even his boots. His hands were bound behind his back, but Lange and Günther stood a few feet away, not touching him. His face, bearing a few days’ worth of scruff, was unbloodied. They hadn’t hit him yet. Surely they wouldn’t subject him to the same things Bucky had endured, not when he was still strong and whole, capable of working in their factory.

“Go on, Sergeant Barnes,” Müller said. “Ask for what you want. You have been particularly eloquent before on the subject of your desire to suck Gefreiter Klein’s cock. Perhaps start with that.”

Bucky swallowed hard. From the corner of his eye, he could see Thompson watching him with his mouth pressed into a grim line. It didn’t matter, he reminded himself. He’d done all this before.

“Sergeant? Do you have something to say?”

The fact that someone was watching, someone that knew who Bucky was supposed to be, shouldn’t make any difference. Sergeant Bucky Barnes of the Howling Commandos wasn’t meant to be on his knees asking sweetly for the enemy to fuck him and make him come, please. That wasn’t right. But he had to do it. It was the only smart choice.

“Sergeant?” Müller prompted again.

Bucky looked up at him with parted lips, wanting to speak but unable to say the words that would betray what he’d become.

“Very well,” Müller said. He lifted his Luger from its holster and leveled it at Thompson.

Bucky whirled to see Thompson's panicked eyes staring at him. “Bucky?”

The shot reverberated in the small room. Blood sprayed in an elegant pattern against the white tile. The bullet struck the wall opposite Müller and sent a chip of tile tinkling down to shatter against the floor. Thompson’s body slumped heavily to land on its side. His blue eyes were still open, vacantly staring.

“Continue,” Müller said, waving a hand at the guards.

Bucky’s ears buzzed, blocking out sound as they pushed him onto his stomach, as they’d done in the early days. One of them—Klein, his mind supplied distantly—prepped him with slick before shoving roughly inside. There was no need to hold him down, because he made no effort to move.

Bucky’s cheek pressed against the white tile, a mirror image of Thompson, whose skin paled as blood drained out of him in a widening pool, staining the pristine white tile. There was a small, perfect hole in his forehead, as beautiful a shot as Bucky had ever made as a sniper.

Müller crouched in front of Bucky and cocked his head at the body on the floor, examining his handiwork. “I confess I am surprised at your choice, Sergeant. I would not have imagined the life of a fellow soldier would be worth so little to you.”

“It’s not—“ Bucky began, but Klein thrust into him hard, knocking the breath out of him. By the time he regained his breath, Müller had stood and turned away. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut to block out the sight of Thompson’s body.

With his eyes closed, he could feel every slick rub of Klein’s cock inside him, the familiar pressure he’d come to rely on to bring himself off each day. He dug his ragged fingernails into his thigh, trying to kill the building pleasure.

“Sergeant.” Müller sounded as irritated as Bucky had ever heard him. “Your decision not to let Private Thompson live does not exempt you from your responsibilities in today’s session. You will still need to accommodate both handlers and achieve your own end before we can be finished here today.”

“I didn’t…” Bucky began, but then opened his eyes to see Thompson’s blank, unmoving face. After all he’d done so far, he’d let them trick him again. He’d gotten too good at playing along, not giving them reasons to hurt him, so they’d tried to intimidate him into misbehaving, and he’d fallen for it. He’d hesitated, and Thompson had lost his life.

Bucky barely felt it when Klein shuddered against him and then pulled out. Schreiber tugged Bucky up onto his knees before he plunged in, rocking Bucky against the tile floor.

This wouldn’t end, Bucky knew, until he did what was required. He couldn’t bring himself to touch his cock, to gather all the thin strands of pleasure he could find in another man using his body and weave them into something he could use to get off. He didn’t deserve it. Let Müller bring in soldier after soldier: they could all fuck him, hurt him, use him.

“Sergeant Barnes.” Müller’s hand landed on his bare shoulder, a comforting warm weight. His voice, even and familiar, sounded soft in Bucky’s ears, drifting past the fading buzz of the gunshot. “I am sorry I snapped at you. I have learned by now that you are as hard on yourself as anyone when you make a mistake. But listen, Sergeant. If you give up, you’ll never have a chance to correct your error.”

Bucky wriggled out from under Müller’s hand and pressed his face into the tile, so he wouldn’t have to see.

“Sergeant.” Müller’s hand stroked against Bucky’s back, a slow, gentle counterpoint to Schreiber’s energetic thrusts. “This will happen again, if you don’t prevent it. It cannot be so difficult. You’ve always found a way to make it work. Just let yourself come, as you’ve done so many times before, and it will be over for today. Next time, you will improve.”

Next time. When Bucky closed his eyes, he could see the pure animal fear in Thompson’s eyes in the instant before he died. Bucky could have stopped it. The plan called for him to cooperate. He had no reason to balk, just because one more person was watching him. It didn’t matter.

Bucky settled his fingers over his limp cock and closed his eyes. If he could ignore Thompson, whose blood he could smell mixed with the scent of sex, he could focus on the cock pistoning into him, the firm grip of Schreiber’s hands around Bucky’s waist, slamming him back into each thrust, the rhythmic clench of his hole around the demanding girth that kept him spread.

Those sensations were familiar. They didn’t hurt, not really. They were the same each time, and Bucky could count on them; he knew how his body worked, how to make it do what they wanted. He was supposed to do what they wanted. That was the plan. If he’d stuck to the plan, Thompson wouldn’t be dead.

Bucky let Schreiber’s thrusts rock his hips forward into his fist, sliding through his grip as he hardened. He could do this. If he did this, everything would be all right. He wouldn’t have failed entirely. He could still salvage the situation.

With his eyes shut tight and his jaw clenched, Bucky made himself relax and take pleasure in what was being done to him. Schreiber always took his time; he could go on for much longer than was comfortable, if Bucky didn’t help him along.

Bucky braced his hand against the tile and pushed back into Schreiber’s next shove. That spurred Schreiber on to fuck him harder, his balls slapping wetly against Bucky as he slammed back into each thrust.

Bucky didn’t let himself think of anything beyond the confines of his body: the slick slide of his hand over his cock, the trickle of sweat running down his neck, the satisfying burn of Schreiber filling him up. If he focused only on that, he could do it. He felt his orgasm gather, coiling low in his belly as his balls tightened. When Schreiber thrust into him hard enough to ruin his balance, tipping him forward onto his shoulders and letting him hide his face against the tile, he felt his orgasm roll through him, drowning out thought and pain as it went.

That earned him a few moments of blissful blankness while Schreiber finished, spending his seed inside to mingle with Klein’s before pulling out and leaving a dribble of come to creep down Bucky’s thigh.

Bucky stayed where we was, panting and feeling each point of sensation in his body, until he heard Müller kneel beside him. “What do you say?”

“Thank you,” Bucky whispered. He couldn’t open his eyes. If he opened his eyes, he’d see Thompson’s empty eyes staring back at him.

For once, Müller didn’t press him for a more convincing demonstration of his gratitude.

When Klein half-lifted Bucky to his feet, his touch was gentle. He ducked under Bucky’s arm and supported him as if he were injured, guiding him towards the door. Bucky kept his face turned away from where Thompson lay.

“Sergeant Barnes.” Müller stepped up beside him and ducked to meet his eyes. “I want you to think about what you will do tomorrow. You will the be the one to decide what happens, yes?”

“Yes.” Bucky made himself look back at Thompson’s body, at the bright puddle of red against the shocking white of the tile. Klein let Bucky look his fill before he led him away.

Back in his cell, the burned remains of the makeshift candles had been removed, and the blanket replaced. Bucky could almost imagine that Thompson had never been there. But when he sat down against the wall and closed his eyes, he could hear the wet thud of a bullet impacting flesh, smell the sharp metallic scent of cooling blood, see the open eyes staring at nothing.

Bucky pressed his ragged fingernails against the bandages that hid the stump of his left arm until the pain throbbed so insistently he couldn't think of anything else.

*cracks knuckles* alright, I'm ready to suffer
Oh good, you didn't run away to Alaska after all!

what is really, really, really important is making sure he doesn't get sent back to solitary
Yes, this. I mean, long-term plans are all well and good, but I think he knows somehow that a little bit more of that is going to hurt him in ways he cannot recover from.

ust all that imagery of Bucky trying so so hard:
I like to remember that Bucky was a pretty competent soldier, so he definitely has the capacity to just push through and do it, even if "it" is horrible things he never imagined himself doing.

This sadist is having a good time with Bucky's suffering, and so am I.
I mean, I kind of want to know what these guys are talking about in the barracks at night. Lange likes it when Bucky's afraid more than most people, I think.

Best trash. I am slain. No more and yes please more.

Have all my garbage.

you managed to hit on one of my ultimate trash kinks: FORCED. RIDING.
Yeesssss! This is my favorite/the worst, because it's so demandingly participatory. And of course they know that, and so that's what they make him do. Ugh. I'm glad you enjoyed all the sensory details: the closeness of this all is what really sealed the deal for me. It's impossible for Bucky to pretend it's not happening.

That horrible dark perversion of intimacy is so trash-hot.
:( :( :( Jah, it sounds like everyone should be having a good time, doesn't it? But not everyone is. And now think how many more memories Bucky has of this than of pleasant sex memories. :(

Having been made so desperate for human contact that it's a comfort to find it in the middle of rape
You have found my nefarious narrative purpose in putting Bucky in isolation! But seriously, though, turning good things evil and evil things good is so much fun.

I am going to carry this image in my heart everywhere I go, forever.
My kingdom for some trashy fanart.

Bucky's self-hatred is my thing. The more he hates himself, the more I love him. Also body issues?? (yesss)
I just want to crush everything Bucky holds dear. I will destroy every little thing Bucky ever liked about himself. Ahem. I mean. You know. And yeahhhhh, I think he is going to have some bad associations with pretty much everything his body does from now on. Sorry, Bucky.

I am so glad that everything hurts! I mean sorry. Sorry that everything hurts. Those things you point out: ugh, yes, I think that's what hooked my from this prompt in the first place, was the idea that he would be expected to take an active role in all the horrible things being done to him.

the hot burn of shame that it took Bucky a moment to recognize
I think perhaps he had run out of this for awhile, as a self-defense mechanism. :(

I can't imagine what further depravity awaits us when the fill continues
evil maniacal laughter

Thank you for sharing what you enjoyed, nonny! It's so lovely to have encouragement while this fill is eating my braaaaaaain.

Probably nothing bad will happen. It'll all be fine.

Does he even know they're playing with him? Does he think he really has to convince them to fuck him? Buckyyyyy
If he stopped to think about it, maybe he'd be suspicious, but it's almost immaterial, right? if he can't get them to relent, rather their reluctance is real or not, he will be in trouble. But oh, trying to imagine one of the Hydra guys being really serious about it, like, Oh, do I have to Müller? Ugh.

he suspects they don't even know he was a threat once. He thinks he's just nothing to them.
I mean, would you treat an enemy you respected like this? No.

I think it shows what a survivor Bucky is. He can be broken down to a tiny shard of himself, and that shard will find a way to keep going.
Good point, here. I think what's dangerous about this situation is that he keeps getting herded into a smaller and smaller part of himself to take a stand on, which means that there are fewer things left to take away before he's all out of self. :(

that could be a prompt/fill in and of itself,
Yes, please! I want that!

Bucky's reached a brokenness plateau in the current twice-daily-rape paradigm, and they need to shift the goalposts to break him further.
:D :D :D Müller does everything for a reason, that's for sure. But seriously, I think he had a good idea of what a comment like that would do to Bucky.

his mind and body have changed so much -- his experiences, his skills, his knowledge, his self-perception, the new forms of thought he's created both under coercion and to survive the rapes -- that even if he were rescued right now he would never be quite the same person again. If he went home tomorrow, would he be able to see himself as Bucky Barnes, or would he be the fraud who begged Hydra to fuck him?
God, that is so sad. And so true. At this point, he has been changed in irrevocable ways, and I don't just mean his missing arm. At some point his own belief that he will ever be able to come back from what he's done will probably come into play here. But yeah, if he escaped now and made it back to the Army, I think he'd have a hard time justifying what happened to himself, let alone anyone else.

I bet he never thought being his ability to seduce people would be turned against him :(

Hey, it's okay! Nothing bad happened! Everything will probably be fine!

WHY AM I SO NERVOUS ABOUT WHAT'S COMING.
Aw, come on, it'll probably be ok! He made a friend! Everything's going to be all right, won't it?

And Thompson being ready to fight them for him.
Scrappy little fucker. Good job getting your new friend to like you right away, Bucky. You've always been popular.

Nothing awful even happened here but you've got me full of dread, so A+ for that!
::maniacal laughter::

The asset is a quick learner. He learns that fighting the rapes won't do him any good, so he adapts.

For example

Learns to suppress his gag reflex so he won't choke while giving blow jobs.

Spreads his knees further apart when they fuck him with large objects, so it'll be easier to take.

Prepping himself with his own spit right after he finishes missions because he knows it'll hurt less than if they fucked him dry.

Learning which agents like what positions, so that it'll take the shortest amount of time possible for him to get them to come.

+10 if, when he finally breaks out of the programming, if he's ashamed because he thinks he wanted it. Otherwise why would he have spread his legs wider, gotten so good at giving head, etc.

+100 if, the first time he has sex with Steve, he pulls out all the dirty tricks he knows and Steve has the most mind blowing orgasm of his life, and afterward asks "where did you learn how to do /that/"

And I am afraid of/looking forward to seeing him get robbed of that as well.
Yeah, the probably with having nice things is that they can be taken away.

Bucky (and I) have adjusted to his fucked up little life, and throwing in a stranger who doesn't know the rules emphasizes how fucked up it is.
You know, it's funny in The First Avenger: we see a little bit of it when Peggy ignores Bucky in the bar, but when he's not standing next to Captain America, Bucky is awesome. A good soldier, an effective leader (who probably received a field promotion pretty early in his service), a guy with a lot of friends. Being reminded that someone sees him as that person must be nice.

I loved Bucky's denial that they've tortured him (he really believes this, nooooo)
I mean, surviving torture is admirable. That's something you can say with pride, if you've survived it. Submitting to rape to stay alive? That's something no one can every know about. It's just something Bucky has to do every morning, no big deal, be back soon, we'll swap some more stories, kid.

Also how long until Bucky finds out Steve is dead? how longgg
I mean, probably until the knowledge can be used against him in a really painful way, right?

I will take your cat food tins and coleslaw and cherish them forever.

.....okay can we throw in bucky totally getting off on it, too??? and being super upset about it, ofc. i mean orders being "fuck the panther" can, in my head, p easily get twisted into "come from being fucked by a panther".

maybe he's being confused about what his orders mean and in a lot of pain and he's been trying to stay aroused so it all just sort of....happens.

and for a bonus? im thinking about post-TWS bucky remembering getting fucked by a panther, getting off on memory of being fucked by a panther, feeling incredibly guilty about having gotten off on the memory of being fucked by a panther.....esp in terms of "arousal/orgasms mean i must have wanted it" which is just not how consent works at ALL, bucky

(well. hows that for a first contribution to htp. maybe someday i will write this myself)

yessss

I live for this type of trash.

Okay, so what if in the early days "the chair" is not yet fine-tuned and they need other ways to make the Winter Soldier obey?

When they first try to make him into a weapon, whatever is still left of Bucky Barnes refuses to kill people.

To give him incentive to obey, he gets a choice: either complete the mission, kill the target - or be brutally raped, beaten, tortured.

I want him reaching breaking point, debating with himself when it becomes acceptable to take a life to save himself terrible suffering.

Obviously at first he'd refuse altogether...but maybe in time: well killing that senator's innocent daughter is still not acceptable, but maybe that arms dealer had it coming, you know? Why would he suffer rape to save such a horrible person? And that's how he gives in inch by inch.

And then, just when he thought he found balance between obeying and fighting it, the new version of the chair just makes his struggle a moot point.

Though maybe there's that one time he refuses and breaks programming, even when the think he's totally broken, because the mission seems so unacceptable to him. Cue worst abuse yet.

+Bonus if you write aftermath where he remembers all of it eventually, and is so confused by guilt, he asks one of the Avengers to abuse him as punishment (Steve's my fave, but I see Nat working, too. I'm sure others might work as well).

++ Extra bonus for trashfluff/hopeful ending where he's reunited with one of the would-be victims he refused to kill, and they genuinely thank him, making him somehow come to terms with both having taken the abuse and having taken other lives.

^^^

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 176 of 222

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

Re: incest but not really

Re: FILL: The Only Animal (6a/7)

no subject

Re: Bucky's healing cock

no subject

Re: Test of loyalty

Re: incest but not really

FILL: The Only Animal (6b/7)

Re: FILL: The Only Animal (5a/6)

Re: FILL: The Only Animal (6b/7)

Re: FILL: The Only Animal (5b/6)

Re: FILL: The Only Animal (5c/?)

Re: FILL: The Only Animal (5c/?)

Re: FILL: The Only Animal (5c/?)

Re: FILL: The Only Animal (5c/?)

Re: FILL: The Only Animal (6a/7)

Re: FILL: The Only Animal (6a/7)

Bucky doing what he needs to for survival

Re: FILL: The Only Animal (6a/7)

Re: FILL: The Only Animal (6b/7)

Re: accidental prompt

Re: Bucky's horrible thoughts

Re: Bucky doing what he needs to for survival

Kill or be raped & tortured

SPOILERS above for non-comic readers (just to be sure)