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.

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Back in the '30s, Bucky occasionally prostituted himself to be able to afford rent, food, medicine, and sundry necessities for Steve, his sisters, and himself. This wasn't consensual sex work: he was desperate, he wasn't happy about having to do it, and he ended up being forced to do some very unpleasant things. Post-TWS, it's just Bucky's luck that he remembers his prostitution before he's recovered enough to handle it.

Bucky has been throwing himself into being Bucky Barnes, wanting so badly to be the charming, happy, emotionally whole person that Steve idealizes. The desperate belief that he'd once been something other than a victim, and that he could wear that life like a mask and thus not be a victim anymore either, was all that was keeping him going. It shatters him to realize that sexual victimization/trash content was a part of that Bucky's life too. So:

+ he begins to think he deserved every sexual horror Hydra subjected him to
+ he feels like sexual violence is neverending for him, that he's fated to endure victimization over and over and over, forever
+ Bucky's often expressed feelings of anger and hatred toward himself post-TWS, but now he's regarding the person he was before the war that way, which alarms and confuses Steve
+ he starts to either self-destruct or act out in sexually unhealthy ways, like doing things he doesn't want to do with people he doesn't want to have sex with, because what else is he good for, right?

++ Steve never knew.

OP here, re: that last +

I have a trashy preference for Bucky offering himself to teammates, like a lesson learned from Hydra, who taught him that his body was property to be doled out as a reward, but I don't want to turn any non-evil character into a rapist. So, initially, perhaps Bucky is good at faking wanting it. The complication is that I'm also super not into idea that sometimes consent is impossible to determine, and that you can have consensually iffy sex without being able to tell. Just: no. The line between consent and non-consent is hugely important to me, and it's like an ice water shower when good guys ignore signs that their partner isn't fully on board. So basically what I'm saying is that the ideal scenario for me is that Bucky sleeps around with randoms who are probably totally shady people, and when he does end up tumbling into bed with an Avenger, the warning bells go off, the other person stops in the middle of the woohoo, and maybe that's how the cat first pokes its head out of the bag.

Anyway, I can't decide what's better: if the Avenger Bucky takes to bed is Steve, or whether it's, like, Clint, and before the trash comes out Clint is stunned and pleased, and Steve is trying to make himself be happy for Bucky instead of scorchingly jealous.

Bucky knows that Steve has read the files on the torture HYDRA put him through. What Steve doesn't know is all the sexual abuse/trash parties that were had (HYDRA didn't deem that information relevant to any missions).

Bucky knows that if Steve ever found out, he wouldn't stop fussing/looking at him with pitiful puppy dog eyes all the time, so he chooses not to reveal it (or worse, Bucky's afraid that if Steve found out, he'd be too disgusted to ever touch him again.)

Cue this info accidentally coming out in little bits and pieces, via Bucky crying out at night because of nightmares, little insignificant things (Steve kissing/touching anywhere close to his neck) that set him off.

This is the pre-war!hooker!Bucky prompt of my dreams. I really hope it gets filled.

Ugh, gimme. *grabby hands*

What an evil idea. I love it.

Ohhhh. I have a special weakness for characters tortured when they sleep -- you can never rest, resting is when they get you. You're tired and you just want to escape thinking about it and dreading it and feeling violated for a little while and *sleep* but when you do that... they come.

Please someone fill this x1 million.

The Winter Soldier still has a sex drive, he just has no healthy contextual framework for what to do about it, and none of the Hydra goons feel like lowering themselves by getting their attack dog off. However, you can't have him learning that any of his needs can be fulfilled without Hydra, so he's not allowed to use his hands to get himself off. Instead, he has to rub against whatever's available -a table, the concrete floor, someone's shoe...

HELL yes I need this. Bucky with food issues is one of my favorite kinds of trash.

*heavy breathing*

Please please yes.

OMG yes the degradation in this prompt is really doin it for me.
Please, some trash-angel fill this!

this this this

This is what I'm here for.

Because HYDRA would throw off Bucky's centre of balance with a 90lb metal arm and make him move on the tips of his toes for laughs.

Also, satin ankle ribbons. They'd look lovely woven across an ankle spreader.

And suspension bondage is good, but Bucky chained by the neck to a dancing pole is better.

If any sort of flimsy justification beyond pure sadism is needed for this, may I introduce knife pointes? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4nB7CQRni50

Soooooo I'm thinking about recording some of these fills as podfics, because I literally cannot stop thinking about this beautiful trash heap 24/7 & want to contribute something.

So, this is not so much of a prompt as a you-guys-prompt-me: are there any fills in particular you guys want to hear?

My god yes please. Especially the force feeding.

Seconding like whoa. I desperately want to see Steve being blindingly jealous of whomever Bucky comes onto, and then later, when they're trying to express their concerns, of course Steve doesn't want to hear it. He's furious his teammate would 'kiss and tell' on Bucky, especially when he's so sick from pining. And then of course when he finally does find out, he's extra horrified.

I think it might be polite to ask the authors if they would like for their fills to be podficced. Not everyone is OK with having their work transferred into another format, and they may not necessarily want it taken off the meme, either. After all, they're the ones who put in the hard work of writing the stories, and I think their wishes should be respected.

(OP)
Yes! Definitely! I'll absolutely be asking for permission for anything I record (even to de-anoned authors with permission policies as I think that's even more necessary here than for the fics i normally record).

Basically I'm not gonna really be able to be anon posting any of these as anyone who's heard my podfics before will totes recognize my voice, so I wanted to see what/if any interest there is before I jump into it.

Does the length of the trash fic matter?

I love the gentle end of the trash can. I would ADORE some truly fucked up hand-feeding, where food is used as a reward or to some other trashy purpose.

I just really want Bucky who wants to be totally submissive to Steve, and he and Bucky working out their feelings about Bucky's trash party past (Bucky thinks there's something wrong with him and Steve doesn't want to hurt him in any way) and eventually forming a loving, totally consensual D/S relationship.

That xxxhydra Tumblr has put the image into my head and I cannot get it out.

Scenario is up to you. Punishment with a side of extra humiliation? To train him to keep his mouth open and slack when that shape is in it? If he's already been brainwashed to go pliant when sex is involved, maybe they use it to keep him docile during a procedure? Seriously, go where ever you want with this.

Word of the mission's successful completion had arrived at noon in a businesslike report from the field commander with the necessary details. Four hours later, Pierce's secretary finished listing the messages received during his last meeting with, "And Agent Sullivan reports the package was delivered to your house without problems."

"Ah," Pierce said, and reached for the slip of paper, which Miranda handed over. Sullivan had filled out the memo slip with a few coded indicators. The asset had been left in the usual location at Pierce's, and in the usual condition.

Pierce had just been getting impatient with the last stretch of the day extending before him, knowing that the asset had completed a mission today and that a reward for a job well done was therefore in the offing. Now, knowing for certain that the asset was in place, and that every moment he spent in his office was an additional moment the asset would spend waiting for him, Pierce felt himself inclined to be very thorough with the rest of the work he had to do. It just went to show how important proper motivation was for instilling a good work ethic up and down the chain of command.

"Will there be anything else, sir?" Miranda was still standing there, watching him attentively, a handful of messages clutched in her hand.

Pierce gave her an appreciative smile. Miranda knew exactly what followed the notification that the package had been delivered to his house, but she wouldn't presume to take the next step without his order. He liked Miranda; she was bright and efficient, but she knew how not to overstep. He hoped she wouldn't forget that. It was hell breaking in a new secretary, and they didn't all turn out as well as she had, the last couple of years.

"Yes, one more thing," Pierce said. "If you could put in an order for me for dinner."

Miranda took down his order on her message pad, and didn't say a word about how many people it would feed.

Pierce watched her out of his office and then settled down at his desk. He had the better part of three hours to get work done before he needed to pick up the order.

***

Pierce took all the takeout boxes out of the insulated bag at the kitchen table. It was better to do this here than in the dining room; the kitchen floor was easier to clean. He opened all the containers and arranged them around the chair where he would sit, making sure that he could reach everything he was going to want without having to make a visible effort. He set out chopsticks and a few napkins, and then picked up a bite of the tuna foie gras roll to savor. He'd had a long day, too, after all; he'd worked up quite an appetite.

When he'd finished that first bite, he wiped his hands and walked over to the door into the mud room, a chilly concrete-floored space that connected the house to the garage. He'd come in through the front door, tonight, so that the asset could hear him moving around but wouldn't see him until everything was ready.

As Sullivan had reported, the asset was correctly presented: on his knees facing the house door, naked except for a bandage wrapped around the top of his left thigh. There was a red-raw patch on his upper right arm, thin red lines of scratches highlighting the broad scrape, and a patch of bruising already going purple-black over his ribs on the left side. Well, these little scratches and scuffs were inevitable; a weapon wasn't meant to stay in its case, even if it would be more ornamental that way.

"Come in," Pierce said, stepping back from the door and beckoning to the asset with his hand. "You did well today. It's time for your reward."

The asset folded forward smoothly onto his hands and knees. Pierce could have wasted a lot more time than he allowed himself just watching the asset move; he was a beautiful machine. The asset crawled up just to the threshold before he looked up at Pierce again.

Pierce stepped back further and said, "Go ahead. You know where you're supposed to be."

The asset betrayed no expression of uncertainty, so maybe he actually did know this time, or was confident in his ability to guess. Well, he could always be corrected. Pierce watched him crawl away. The ripple of muscle in his back and the slight sway of his ass as he went were a thing to behold; he could have been built to move on all fours, like some jungle cat.

Pierce shook off the fanciful thought of the asset pacing a cage, with a long tail to twitch behind him, and pulled the door shut, locking it and punching in the relevant codes on the security system panel beside it.

When he walked into the kitchen, the asset was on his knees, a couple of feet in front of the chair that Pierce had pulled out for himself and turned side on to the table. It wasn't a bad guess; if the asset had chosen a different one Pierce might have corrected him into it. The correction wouldn't be very harsh, then. That was fine. The point of all this was to teach the asset to accept his rewards gracefully; corrections were only a means to an end.

"Mm, almost," Pierce said, and saw faint unease appear on the asset's face. Pierce walked over and sat down, pointedly relaxed as he studied the asset in front of him. He reached over and picked up another piece of the tuna foie gras roll, and watched the asset's eyes follow it with desperate attention, though he didn't otherwise move.

The asset was fed mostly by nasogastric tube, with certain nutritional additions by IV as necessary. The liquid feedings and IV supplements were scientifically balanced to keep him functioning--but like any good attack dog, the asset was always kept hungry. After the enormous calorie expenditure of a mission, plus hours of waiting, even the standard top-up he would have gotten during his post-mission medical care would leave him feeling the kind of hunger that people with access to colloquial expressions referred to as starving.

The asset, properly, would not report himself to be starving until he was well into the process of lean muscle metabolism.

Food was thus a very powerful motivator for the asset, and Pierce liked to reinforce the asset's knowledge of who had ultimate command over him with these little positive feedback sessions. Of course, there were a variety of lessons to be imparted in one of these sessions. They so rarely had uninterrupted quality time like this; it was necessary to multi-task.

Pierce brought the piece of sushi to his own mouth in a leisurely motion, watching the asset's eyes track his hand. Then he popped it into his own mouth, closing his eyes in an exaggerated expression of pleasure, easy even for the asset to read.

When he looked again, the asset had lowered his gaze to somewhere around Pierce's knees, his posture strung tight. That was good; if he'd been looking at the table, watching the food instead of Pierce, a very harsh correction indeed would have been required. He really was learning.

"Over here," Pierce directed at last, snapping his fingers and pointing to the spot at his right hand. The asset crawled over and knelt up again, and all the time he kept his gaze fixed on Pierce, never straying.

"Good," Pierce said. It was important to acknowledge and reward desirable behavior. He picked up the chopsticks he'd left out, snagging a piece of the California roll. Avocado was one of the easiest fats for the asset to digest, and rice and fish were also well-tolerated. Sushi was the ideal food to supplement the asset's diet.

There was also the fact that the asset hadn't liked sushi to begin with, though he had always been dutiful about eating what he was given. In the time Pierce had been conducting these little reward sessions with him, though, the asset had acquired a taste for it, and now he was nearly drooling as he watched Pierce's hands move.

When Pierce's right hand began to extend obviously toward the asset, the asset's gaze snapped up to watch Pierce's face instead of his hand, his eyes silently beseeching.

"What do you say," Pierce prompted. The asset would not speak without being invited.

"Please, sir," the asset said, his voice a hoarse rasp. He likely hadn't had occasion to speak since the mission ended, if not before.

Pierce paused with the sushi hovering a few inches short of the asset's lips and said, "Give me your hand."

The asset kept his gaze steady on Pierce's hand, and raised his right hand to hover over Pierce's knees, reaching nowhere near the food.

"Good boy," Pierce murmured, and pinched the back of the asset's hand with his left thumb and forefinger. The skin sank back down immediately; the asset might be thirsty, but he wasn't significantly dehydrated. "Now. What did you say?"

"Please, sir," the asset repeated, putting a little more expression into his voice. "Please, may I have some food?"

"Of course," Pierce said, bestowing a warm smile for that performance. "You've earned it. Open up."

The asset opened his mouth wide, and Pierce brought the piece of sushi down to hover just above his tongue. The asset's gaze didn't waver from Pierce's, and the asset didn't move. His right hand still hovered open in the air where Pierce had let go of it, and his left hand was behind his back. Pierce waited until he could see saliva glistening at the corner of the asset's wide-open mouth, and then he let the sushi drop onto his tongue.

The asset still stayed frozen for another second, until Pierce made a go-ahead gesture with the chopsticks, and then he closed his mouth and chewed frantically. His eyelids shivered a little in pleasure, but his gaze didn't waver.

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Page 2 of 222

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

hooker Bucky

Re: hooker Bucky

Bucky tries to protect Steve by hiding his trash past

Re: hooker Bucky

Re: Bucky tries to protect Steve by hiding his trash past

Re: dream trash

Re: dream trash

Frottage

Re: Bucky has food issues/phobias

Re: hooker Bucky

Re: Frottage

Re: Frottage

Re: Frottage

Art or fic prompt - WS in pointe shoes.

Re: Art or fic prompt - WS in pointe shoes.

Trash podfics

Re: Bucky has food issues/phobias

Re: hooker Bucky

Re: Trash podfics

Re: Trash podfics

Re: Trash podfics

WS/Any Handfeeding

(frozen comment) Submissive Bucky

The Winter Soldier, pecker gag

FILL: See the Master's Hand (1/?)