garbage all the way down (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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hydratrashmeme2014-12-07 08:43 am
trashmod) wrote in hydratrashmeme2014-12-07 08:43 am
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 bygreenkirtle)] [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.
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.
Fill: Drinking Games (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2015-07-21 04:44 am (UTC)(link)Thursday, Bucky left the house without saying anything. Surprisingly, he left through the door instead of a window or the chimney for once. “Habit gets you killed,” He’d explained as if it was common sense that one time Steve brought up his ever-changing points of entrance and exit into the apartment. Bucky wandered out by himself before, so Steve mentally shrugged and spent the day patching the holes in the walls.
Steve finishes another bottle and stares out the same window Bucky used to stare out. It has a good line of sight.
When Bucky came back that night, it was through the door again, and he had a busted lip, bruised knuckles, and god knows what other injuries hiding his tac gear. And a forlorn, lost expression that became more and more hardened and unreadable as his eyes moved past every spot where there used to be a hole.
How many signs did he miss?
Steve plastered on the smile he adopted for walking on eggshells around Bucky and asked, “Welcome home. How was your day?”
“I didn’t kill anyone if that’s what you’re asking.” Bucky was scowling now. Just like that, the room plummeted from overcast to depression churning towards hurricane. Steve couldn’t help hate himself for feeling irritation.
It took effort and several deep breaths to keep his voice light. “That’s good to hear. I’d hate to have SHIELD busting in to arrest you right after I fixed the place up.”
“Yeah, the walls look real nice. Sorry for fucking up your home.” Bucky bit out and stared at him with some mercurial concoction of sadness, blankness, and anger on his face. There was a time when he always knew what to say to Bucky, could read every expression on Bucky’s face. Now, he didn’t know if he could offer him dinner. In the end, he’s saved by Bucky dashing forwards and falling to his knees. Steve jumped but didn’t get far because Bucky had hugged himself to Steve’s legs and was whispering, over and over, “I’m sorry, I tried. I tried. I tried… I’m sorry.”
Steve gently pried Bucky’s arms away and pulled Bucky to his feet. Bucky slumped against his chest, and he ran his fingers through Bucky’s hair. It was short like it used to be. “Hey now, you’ve nothing to be sorry for,” He murmured. “I know you’re trying, and I’m so proud of you. You’re going to get better, I know you will.”
Steve stands to grab a new bottle but stumbles and falls. You idiot, why did you pull him up? You should have fallen to your knees with him. At some point, the empty bottle fell out of his hands and shattered across the floor. So he can get drunk after all.
Friday, someone walked into his room at three in the morning. Steve tumbled out of bed and jumped for his shield before realizing it was Bucky.
He forced his breathing to become steady and asked, “What do you need, Buck?” The brief rush of adrenaline trickled away, disappointed.
“I want to meet your friends,” Bucky said.
Steve stared with barely-contained amazement at Bucky’s unmoving silhouette. Bucky wanted to meet other people; he was improving so much. “Sure thing,” He said. “Who did you have in mind?”
“The ones you’re closest to.”
Saturday, they met Nat and Sam at a bar.
“A bar? Really? I’m the only one here who can get drunk.” Was how Sam greeted them, followed by, “Bucky Barnes, right? Sam Wilson. I’m guessing you’re Bucky Barnes by the metal arm and Cap’s heart eyes.”
“He’s the only cheap drunk, he means. We live vicariously through him. I’m Natasha Romanoff. You may remember me. We tried to kill each other.” Was how Natasha greeted them.
“Pleasure to meet the guys who helped Captain America save the world,” Bucky said with a easy charm that Steve hadn’t heard for 70 years. “Sam, want a soda so we won’t drink you under?”
“You know what? You’re a jerk.”
Bucky smiled his easy smile where one lip corner pulled up higher than the other. The one that Steve hadn’t seen for 70 years. “So I’ve been told.”
Steve clenched his hands and had to look away. It wasn’t fair that Bucky acted this familiar with Natasha and Sam when even after weeks, Bucky sometimes refused to acknowledge Steve’s presence. It also wasn’t fair for him to feel that way, so he forced down the bile and jealousy. He should be happy for Bucky.
Steve downs a quarter of a bottle and feels sick. He used to say grace at the dinner table. “I know it’s not much, but we need to be grateful for what we have.” His mom used to tell him.
They sat at the bar for hours. Bucky said a lot of things about Steve and was more animated than he’d been for weeks, and there was a silent agreement to let Bucky control the conversation. Natasha observed, Sam was good at listening to people talk, and Steve soaked in Bucky’s every word while. Steve would be damned if he missed a single second of Bucky being this alive.
“He used to get sick a lot, and Sarah and I would feed him chicken soup. There’d only be broth most of the time because we couldn’t afford meat, and he always got better faster with it. Psychological effects of comfort foods, the doc said.”
“He eats human food? I thought he was powered by protein bars.” Sam said.
“Have you never given him a hot dog before?” Bucky said with mock disbelief.
“Bucky,” Steve set his mug on the table to free up both hands for hiding his flushing face and groaned. “I’m only 95 on paper. You don’t need to write guides for taking care of me.”
“Someone has to. ‘s not like you know how,” Bucky said with something that might have been affection, but it also sounded wistful. He turned his attention back to Nat and Sam. “Once, he’d gotten it into his stubborn head that he could teach this asshole a lesson. Was going to meet him in some alley 8 o’clock sharp no matter what I said. In the end, I had to fake a fever and play at fainting to keep his skinny ass home.”
“Jerk.” Steve bumped Bucky with his elbow. “Falling sick and fainting’s my line.”
“Hallelujah, so it’s possible to save Rogers from his crazy ideas.” Sam said and raised his glass. Bucky looked lost, but only for a moment, before he smiled and nodded and clinked his glass with Sam’s.
Natasha twirled her screwdriver in her glass and kept observing, her face carefully blank.
Bucky grinned a shit-eating grin and continued. “And he’ll act like he don’t need help. Don’t listen to him. You gotta see through his stupid to save him from it.”
“I’m sitting right here, you asshole.”
Steve had propped his chin on his hand and was leaning towards Bucky like a plant starved of sunlight, and Bucky avoided his longing gaze and went right on talking. “He’s an idealist, or do you guys pronounce it ‘idiot’ these days? Once, I told him to give it a break after he broke his arm, and he said, “Not until people stop doing shitty things to people who don’t deserve it. He thinks he can fix everything.”
Steve throws the half full bottle across the room. It leaves a dent on the wall. “Fix that, Rogers.” He thinks. He lets out a guttural noise and bangs his forehead against the wall. “Fix that too.” Bang. And that. Bang. And that. Bang. Bang. Bang. And all that.
“Why are you telling us all this?” Natasha finally spoke up.
Because Bucky wouldn’t leave Steve alone in this world…
Bucky smiled. It was the exasperated but loving smile he had on every time he pulled Steve out of a fight. “Because you guys care about him.”
Nat quirked an eyebrow and stared at Bucky until he avoided her eyes. Bucky slumped against Steve’s side and mumbled, “I’m tired, Steve. Let’s head back.”
Steve agreed, “Okay, let’s head home.”
Later that night, Steve asked, “So, you like them?”
“Yeah, they’ll do.” Bucky’s face had become unreadable again.
Steve didn’t ask him what he meant; it could wait until morning. Tonight, everything was happy and gilded and fragile.
… Even when Steve was pushing him to the end of the line.
Re: Fill: Drinking Games (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2015-07-21 05:05 am (UTC)(link)Re: Fill: Drinking Games (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2015-07-21 05:53 am (UTC)(link)I almost took the lazy route and killed Bucky without Guide to Taking Care of Steve Rogers publication. And then I had a moment of revelation where I sat down and looked inside myself and asked "Authoranon, is this really the optimal way to fuck Steve up?"
Re: Fill: Drinking Games (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2015-07-22 05:51 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Fill: Drinking Games (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2015-07-23 06:29 am (UTC)(link)Idk if this ever culminates in an ultimate hurt, though that could be subjective. As far as what I have planned goes, it's all a knife here and there that felt nice to twist, but I'm glad Im successfully causing pain. :)