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

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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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Steve and his stupid big mouth, Steve who can no longer contain the force of seventy years of yearning inside him, Steve who mumbles into the crook of Bucky’s neck as they’re in bed rutting their bodies up against each other, “Make love to me, Buck.”

Bucky’s once-frantic movements on top of him suddenly still.

“Oops,” Steve says stupidly, but Bucky just rolls off of him and laughs, and if frost-stripped trees made a sound when they grew their springtime leaves back, that would be it.

“You’re such a cornball sometimes, Steve,” Bucky says, eyes bright with a roguish affection as he turns onto his back, looking expectant.

Steve stares dumbly at him for a long time.

“Ah, I see how it is,” Bucky grumbles, “You’re gonna make me do all the work, huh?”

There is more speechless gaping on Steve’s part as Bucky sighs dramatically and sits back up, reaching into the nightstand drawer for some lube, which he squirts onto his flesh hand.

“Oh,” Steve stammers, his heart a firecracker inside his chest, “R-right. Okay.”

He grabs a pillow, settles it under his ass as he lies down on his back, and spreads his legs, still not quite able to believe that they’re really going to do this, that they’re both in a place where it’s finally possible.

Bucky, however, gives him a funny look.

“Steve,” he says, slowly, like he’s talking to someone who might not be the brightest bulb in the box, “I think you’ve got things backwards...”

Steve frowns, not quite understanding what Bucky means, before things finally fall into place and his eyes widen in spite of himself.

“You mean you– oh. Oh...! Are you... are you sure?”

Bucky rolls his eyes in that half-fond, half-exasperated way that he does when Steve is being a little ridiculous.

“Does this really seem like the kind of thing I’d ask for if I wasn’t sure?” he points out. “Besides, this is the way it always was, wasn’t it?”

“Well, yeah,” Steve concedes, “But... I just thought that...”

He trails off awkwardly, realising he’s kind of dug himself into a hole. He can’t tell Bucky what he thought because what he thought was that he’s surprised Bucky is okay with bottoming when he only has terrifying, agonising memories associated with the act. This was exactly what Bucky had told Steve he was afraid of in ashamed, frustrated mumbles one particularly difficult night when Steve was still learning how to navigate his way around Bucky’s body – he didn’t want to exist only in the shadow of what had happened to him, hated the idea of Steve not being able to think about anything else when he touched him.

Steve just can’t help it. Not when Bucky still wakes up in a cold sweat some nights or goes tense whenever a stranger gets too close. Not when he knows the pain that Bucky continues to carry in unplaceable parts of his anatomy because of what people both careless and cruel had done to him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Bucky says quietly after a moment, and not for the first time Steve can’t tell whether he’s more comforted or unnerved by the fact that there’s someone in this world who knows him this well, “But it’s not like that, I promise. It’s not the same thing, it’s not even close. I... I understand why you might think certain things about this, and we can do it the other way around if you really want to, but... god, Steve, I really want it like this. I want to... to be able to give myself to someone, for once. All of myself. Willingly. Instead of them just taking it.”

Steve wraps a tiny sob in what he hopes passes for a laugh.

“Now who’s the cornball?” he asks, but he leans in to kiss Bucky deeply to show him that he felt every one of his words right down to the bone.

Bucky tilts backwards, slightly off-balance because with one hand all slick with lube he can only support himself with his other arm, then simply lets himself fall so that he ends up on his back again, with Steve settled in between his legs.

Steve props the pillow under Bucky’s ass, then applies some lube to his hole before he takes Bucky’s flesh hand and guides it down, letting Bucky start things off himself. His breathing becomes more and more audible in the silence of the room as he watches Bucky finger himself, almost excruciatingly slowly, and Steve is torn between wanting to plunge himself inside that tight pulsing heat or simply being content to watch this for the rest of his life.

Bucky eventually removes his hand and peers up at Steve as an unspoken go-ahead to take his place. It takes all of Steve’s willpower to keep himself from asking Bucky if he’s okay every five seconds, though it’s an effort admittedly made a little easier by the decidedly distracting sensation of Bucky clenching around his fingers, his thighs trembling slightly, head thrown back against the mattress baring the graceful arch of his throat. The preparation is an extremely lengthy and thorough process, but seeing Bucky spread out before him like this, allowing himself to be this vulnerable, is so incredibly sensual that Steve stays hard the entire time despite only giving himself a couple strokes every few minutes.

He’s not quite sure how long this goes on for before his world condenses to a single pinprick point in the universe when he hears Bucky’s breathless voice murmuring that he’s ready.

Steve feels as if his very insides are trembling as he lines himself up, finding it hard to tear his eyes away from Bucky’s face in order to see what he’s doing, and pushes in ever so slowly. Bucky is so tense that it’s an almost painfully tight squeeze despite the extensive preparation and generous amount of lube, and Steve frowns. He looks down to see that Bucky is still hard, but his eyes are squeezed shut and his arms are stiff at his sides, hands curled into white-knuckled fists in the sheets.

“Buck,” Steve says softly, and is met with blown-pupil blue as Bucky opens his eyes, “Easy, Buck. Try to relax. D’you... Should I stop?”

Bucky closes his eyes again and takes a deep, quivering breath before he shakes his head in a tiny but resolute movement.

Steve swallows hard. He nods even though Bucky can’t see him and resumes his careful movement forward, thankful to be met with less resistance as Bucky loosens up ever so slightly.

Still, the sensation of having to push into an unyielding space makes Steve think back to a very specific document in HYDRA’s files, a complaint that the tech team had filed when the Asset had been returned to them all torn up inside. It wasn’t that they were concerned about Bucky’s treatment as much as it was a matter of them being annoyed at having to stitch him up before sticking him into cryo because the bleeding hadn’t stopped on its own in time. A memo went out after that – not a cease and desist order, but rather preparation instructions and a list of objects that were forbidden from being used on the Asset when he was loaned out for ‘recreation.’

Once again, the erratic heat in Steve’s belly is doused by a drenching sickness, a near-delirium of horror and sadness and rage that usually serves to get Steve even more pumped-up but right now is simply sucking all the life out of him. He looks down at Bucky again, taking in his flushed face and parted lips, and all the things that were once signs of desire are suddenly now the opposite, reminders of all the people who, like Bucky had said, had taken what was not being given. The objective part of Steve’s mind knows that right now Bucky is nothing if not completely willing to surrender every part of himself to him, but the message gets lost somewhere between his brain and his feelings and to his horror he can feel himself going soft, making it impossible to go any further, and he wasn’t even all the way in yet.

His cock slides out of Bucky, causing him to open his eyes and crane his neck slightly as if trying to see what was going on.

“Too slippery,” Steve lies quickly, curling a hand around himself and desperately jerking himself off in a losing battle to regain his hard-on. “Hold on, just... gimme a moment...”

Bucky gives him a moment. Gives him several, in fact. When it becomes clear that Steve isn’t going to be getting back to him any time soon, he sits up and fixes Steve with a bit of a perplexed look.

Steve lowers his eyes. At this point he isn’t sure if it even has anything to do with thinking about Bucky’s abuse anymore; it may be a purely psychological thing where he’s convinced himself that he won’t be able to get it up, so he doesn’t. He sure hopes that’s what the problem is.

“Steve?” Bucky asks, his voice small in a way that only ever leads to unpleasant things.

Steve releases the futile hold on his dick and makes a distinctly frustrated sound as he pounds a fist into the mattress.

“I’m sorry,” he babbles, “I don’t know what’s happening... Something– something’s wrong but I don’t know what, and it’s not you, I swear, I just... Fuck. Fuck!”

Bucky is quiet for a long time before he says with an almost childlike bewilderment, “I thought... I thought you were attracted to me.”

Steve can’t keep himself from staring at him in shock, which he regrets the moment that Bucky appears to shrink into himself in response.

“I don’t blame you if you’re not, though,” Bucky says, his words tinged with a heartbreaking resignation. “You know sometimes when I get out of the shower I keep my head down because I can’t stand the sight of myself in the bathroom mirror?”

“Bucky, no, that's not what this is about,” Steve chokes out, because this has gotten so much worse so quickly and he knows that if he doesn’t get a handle on the situation fast then it’s going to get away from him. Bucky is speaking to him in that deadened, detached tone that he often uses when he’s talking about something painful, as if he won’t be able to feel it if he makes himself sound like a machine.

“So,” Bucky continues, ignoring Steve, “I do get where you’re coming from. And I won’t hold it against you.”

“It’s not like that,” Steve says desperately. “Bucky, I– you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world to me. Nothing turns me on like you do, or even just like the thought of you. Do you even know how many times I got off imagining this? Fantasising about it, thinking it’d never actually be real? I’m so attracted to you that it’s probably actually kind of creepy.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Bucky asks, seeming genuinely confused. “I mean, I guess it’s just kind of weird to me because, like... The HYDRA agents thought I was disgusting too, but they still always managed to get it up.”

His voice is plain and toneless and matter-of-fact and Steve feels all the colour drain out of his face before he bolts out of the room and everything he’d eaten that morning ends up down the kitchen drain.

;____________________;

ouch.

yes this exactly.

;________;

this fic is SO hard to read. I am DYING for Bucky (and Steve). The line that walloped me most in this one was Bucky's about averting his eyes from the mirror because he finds himself disgusting -- also about the Hydra agents finding him disgusting but managing to get it up anyway. !!! ow! so much pain!

oh, GOD. i thought it couldn't get worse than when bucky said he couldn't look in the mirror sometimes. but then that LAST BIT. GAH. hurting for both our boys, but man this is such a great fill.

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

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