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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The Soldier is sitting on the couch, as still and quiet as he can make himself. Steve had been watching a baseball game before, but it’s over now, and Steve looks like he wants to say something. The possibility gives the Soldier hope— flashes come, more all the time, proving that Steve used to love him, but he has yet to prove it in the present. It’s just a matter of time, the Soldier keeps telling himself.

“Bucky?” Steve begins, and the Soldier can’t help but smile. It’s a name for him, like Yasha but better because it’s the one Steve gave him. He turns toward Steve expectantly.

“Steve?” he says, just to say Steve’s name out loud.

“How— how much do you remember?” Steve asks. He sounds oddly, unfamiliarly nervous.

—Steve leaning up and touching their mouths so softly, so hesitantly, expecting rejection—

The Soldier remains silent, trying to understand the question. What he remembers could refer to the flashes, the Soldier reasons. The flashes seem to be memories— perhaps the ones that had once been extraneous and removed to increase efficiency. But that doesn't make sense, because Steve was never extraneous, he was the most important thing in the world.

“I don’t know,” the Soldier says honestly. Steve frowns in response, which makes the Soldier tense. He doesn’t know what’s wrong.

“Do you remember—“ Steve breaks off and moves closer to the Soldier, not touching but leaning over him in a way that seems so promising. He may be about to prove his love for the first time in seventy years, and the Soldier tenses in a totally different way. He won’t enjoy the touch, but even the idea of the love behind it is enough to make him sigh with contentment. “Do you remember how I feel about you?”

Yes, the Soldier thinks. This is it. “You love me,” he says, and knows he’s about to feel the proof of it.

“Yeah, Buck,” says Steve, and his smile is so happy. He leans in closer, closer still, and touches his lips to the corner of the Soldier’s mouth. The Soldier doesn’t understand the touch, but it feels… nice. It feels like no touch the Soldier can remember, except in a few flashes with Steve.

For several long seconds he lets it happen. Then he opens his mouth to ask what’s going on, and Steve’s tongue slides in before he can. It’s weird and kind of slimy, having a second tongue in his mouth, but once he gets past the excess of saliva it actually feels nice, too. As Steve’s tongue pushes deeper, it makes him think of all the times people showed their love by pushing other things into his mouth.

Is that what this is? A variation on that? He hopes so, because it’s his new favorite. It doesn’t hurt at all.

Encouraged by Steve’s firm touch, the Soldier starts to twist and whine, attempting to say ‘no’ with his mouth full. Steve’s mouth feels so good, and he knows it’ll just be better once he’s said ‘no’ and Steve has ignored it. Maybe afterward Steve will do something more, between his legs maybe.

The Soldier’s always hated the touches between his legs, but if Steve can put things in his mouth without causing pain, maybe he can put things between his legs without hurting too. He becomes impatient with anticipation and he tears his mouth away from Steve’s.

“No!” he cries eagerly. He sprawls back, spreads his legs to show exactly what he wants Steve to do. “No, no, no.”

Instead, Steve jerks back like he was hit with a stun stick. The Soldier checks, just to be sure, and finds no electrical burns. Something the Soldier did must have disappointed him, then, to make Steve not want to prove his love anymore. Unless—

Does Steve still—

The Soldier rejects the thought immediately, unable to handle the idea that he might have to live in the world without Steve’s love. There must be something else that caused him to stop, there must be.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks in a small voice.

“Of course not, Bucky,” Steve says, and that makes the Soldier relax. “I just don’t want to do this if you don’t want it.” That sentence doesn’t make any sense at all. Of course the Soldier wants it. But before he can explain this, Steve has already gotten up and started to walk away. “I— I have to go out for a while, but I’ll be back soon,” he says as he goes out the door, and the Soldier can only stand and watch him go.

—He knows what hatred is—

But Steve doesn’t hate him, even if he is leaving him alone. The Soldier has a hundred flashes that prove Steve loves him, even though his analysis of the current situation says otherwise.

For the first time, the Soldier considers that some of his programming may be incorrect.

He keeps thinking, trying to understand what went wrong. Steve seemed to think the Soldier was lacking something— he wishes he could remember what it was, so that he could fix himself. If he could do that, he might be able to get Steve to love him again, properly.

Steve had wanted him to ‘want it,’ the Soldier remembers. But he did want it. He wanted Steve’s love more than anything.

—No, Buck, leave me alone! I’m not hurt that bad—

—Dumb punk, at least let me wipe the grit out—

Oh. Suddenly the Soldier understands what he has been missing for weeks now, for years. All those people who had loved him, and he had never loved a single one of them back. Except Steve. Maybe it wasn’t just Steve who had to prove his love— maybe Steve wanted the Soldier to prove that he still loved Steve, even though they’d been apart for so long.

Okay, he thinks. He’s never loved anyone before, but for Steve, he can try.

He starts small. The next day, Steve tells him no, he’s not allowed to put his muddy boots up on the table, and the Soldier just gives him a raised eyebrow and leaves them where they are. He sees a small, fond look on Steve’s face as he turns back to what he was doing, and counts it as a victory.

The day after that, the Soldier ignores Steve’s protest that he shouldn’t stay in the shower for four hours just to see if Stark’s hot water can run out.

He refuses to get dressed for the entirety of the third day, which causes Steve to send him some promising looks even as he protests.

On the fourth day, the Soldier thinks he’s ready for the real thing. He wakes up early and waits in the kitchen, a predator waiting to strike. It’s still dark, but Steve forces himself to get up very, very early in order to be awake for his morning run. Steve eventually trudges in, looking half asleep still and groping for coffee.

—Fancy serum couldn’t make you a morning person? Oughtta get your money back, Stevie—

Once Steve’s had a cup of coffee, he looks more ready to accept the Soldier’s love, and the Soldier pounces. Steve’s hands come up at once, as if he expects it to be an attack, but he puts them back down when he realizes it’s the Soldier. This makes the Soldier… happy, he thinks. That’s the word for this feeling.

“Bucky?” Steve asks. Perhaps he isn’t sure what the Soldier intends yet. He is still tired, after all.

The Soldier just makes his best approximation of a smile and darts in to bite at Steve’s neck. He doesn’t know how to do what Steve did before, the way that didn’t hurt, but he remembers this, and he remembers that he hadn’t minded it, much. Then he reaches a hand down between Steve’s legs and begins to touch, quickly, trying to get Steve to respond the way the Soldier was sometimes made to.

“Bucky, no, what are you—“ Steve starts, but he breaks off when the Soldier bites down sharply.

—Blonde hair and a cruel smirk and bright red nails—

“Oh, hush. I know you want it, and he knows you want it,” the Soldier purrs, stroking harder.

“What? Bucky, cut it out!” Good, that’s good. The Soldier keeps touching, more and faster, trying to show Steve that he loves him enough to ignore all those words he doesn’t mean.

“See how much I love you?” he asks, moving faster than ever.

“Stop,” Steve says firmly. The Soldier pauses, confused, because that didn’t sound like a protest. It sounded like an order, and he knows he’s supposed to obey orders. “Bucky, explain what you’re doing.”

Another order. The Soldier doesn’t understand, he thought it was clear, but he says it anyway. “I’m proving that I love you,” he says.

“Why didn’t you stop when I told you to?” Steve asks, and even though it’s just a question it still feels like an order. Answer me, Steve’s tone says, and Bucky tries harder to understand the question. Why would he stop? He loves Steve. If he stopped, it would mean he didn’t care.

“I know you need this, and I’m the one who cares enough to give it to you. Don’t you see? I’m doing this because I love you.”

Steve gasps sharply, and his eyes look wet, but the Soldier is still afraid to move. He stays in place as Steve comes closer, closer, and finally folds the Soldier in his arms. Steve is so warm, the Soldier wants to relish his touch, but he can’t until he knows what’s going on.

“Did other people do this to you?” Steve says wetly into his neck.

“They loved me too much to stop because of petty cries,” he says pointedly, and then he’s shocked at himself. He doesn’t want to insult Steve, or accuse him of not caring when he has so many flashes that say that he does. It just— slipped out, and he couldn’t stop it. But as he thinks, he wonders if it’s true, if they really did love him more than Steve does.

He sobs at the thought of losing even a little of Steve’s love, because Steve is so, so good, and so important, and everything the Soldier never knew he wanted until he got it back, and he doesn’t want to lose it again.

“I swear to you,” Steve says, pulling himself together, “I will never do anything you don’t want me to.”

And then the Soldier begins to cry in earnest, because his worst fear just came true.

A!a: ugh I meant part 5, I always mess up the subject line somehow

I don't give a flying fuck about the subject line, your fill is majestic to behold. HIS WORST FEAR. MY HEART.

Here, I've combed the beach for partially rotten washed-up corpses for you, and I have collected: six fish, three seagulls, and a seal. I think it's a seal?

If you're wondering, this can either be titled Five People Who Hurt The Winter Soldier and One Who Ended Him, or Five Times I Hurt Bucky and One Time I Fix Him. I'm sorry if the happy ending puts you off your trash.

*

The Soldier is lying in his room, pretending to sleep so that Steve will leave him alone. It hurts to be around him now, because he keeps telling Bucky that he loves him. Steve's love is everything he ever wanted, and a few days ago he would have gloried in every declaration, but now that he knows for sure that Steve doesn't love him, the words just hurt to hear.

The more they hurt, the more the Soldier wants to leave, but he won't, because despite everything he still loves Steve.

The difference is that his love for Steve used to be a beacon of hope. Now it's a chain that keeps him here, so that he has to be reminded over and over again of the way he lost the only thing that was ever really necessary to his soul.

It makes him want to cry, but he won't, because Steve would heed his tears.

Sometime past midnight, he hears a quiet, almost silent shush-shush slide of fabric over metal, and he flicks dry eyes over to the grate of the air vent. It would seem that someone is coming to visit him. He considers crushing the edges of the grate with his metal hand so that it can't be opened, but that thought makes him sad. It's then that he realizes he's lonely again. He decides to open the grate himself, anxious to find out who it might be.

Anyway, it's not like Steve would be able to fit his hulking muscles into the ventilation shaft and still travel as quiet as a cat.

He pulls the grate from its place, revealing a beautiful girl with dark red hair who smiles to see him invite her in.

—His favorite—

"Natalia," he says, inclining his head. She extends her arms out of the shaft, braces them on the wall below the vent, and uses them to launch herself out of the duct and into a neat somersault. She lands on her feet like a cat, she always did, and it pleases the Soldier to see it again.

"Hey, Yasha. Can we talk?" Her voice is different now, less girlish and with no forced sweetness. She has become a woman, and he feels... Proud.

"Of course," he says, because she's his favorite.

—The red-haired girl puts her knife through the target's eye on only the second try and he smiles at her—

"Do you know what a safe word is?" Natalia asks him. He cocks his head. He knows both of those words individually, but he has no idea what they might mean together. How can a word be safe? Why would a safe have words?

"No," he answers her honestly.

"When they were showing you that they loved you, did Hydra ever order you to stop what you were doing?"

—It was an accident, he didn't mean to break fingers, his metal hand is so strong—

—Stand down, Soldier, that's enough!—

"Stand down," he murmurs, and then he answers the question to Natalia. "Yes."

She takes a moment to think as she moves to sit down in his chair. He sits on the edge of the bed, across from her, and racks his mind, first knowledge and then flashes, looking for something to help him understand what she was talking about. After a few seconds, though, he realizes that he probably doesn't need to do it himself, because she's about to explain it to him. Natalia was always good at explanations. Accurate. Succinct.

"When they told you to stand down, you had to stop immediately, no questions asked, yes?" He nods. "Did you have any words that would make them stop?"

"Why would I?" he asks, tilting his head again. He hadn't wanted them to stop, because he needed to know that they loved him.

"That's an imbalance. You should have one, even if you don't use it."

"Like a grenade," he says, understanding. Grenades are good for blowing up whatever's happening, and making it stop. He doesn't often like to use them, because they're loud and imprecise, but he always keeps one in his equipment, just in case.

"Exactly," Natalia says, and she smiles like she's proud of him, which feels backwards but makes the Soldier smile all the same. "Now, I'm going to explain what went wrong with Steve, and you're going to stay in place until I'm done." The Soldier doesn't want to, but he's a little intrigued and a lot determined to make his favorite happy. "Everyone has a safe word to make other people stop. Some people use the word 'red,' and some people choose their own word just for that purpose. For everyone else, the safe word is 'no.' Steve's safe word is 'no,'" she says with emphasis.

"He wants me to stand down when he says 'no'?" the Soldier asks. He thinks he's beginning to understand, but he has to make sure. It seems like Natalia might be suggesting that Steve loves him after all, but he couldn't bear to draw that conclusion and find it incorrect. He needs her to say it.

"Yes," she says. "And he stood down when you said 'no,' because he doesn't have full intel. You need to tell him that 'no' isn't your safe word. Then, pick one for yourself and try to start again from there."

"Does he—?" The Soldier isn't sure he can ask the question, but he needs to know the answer. "Does he still—?"

—Lying is what we do, Yasha, but I've never lied to you—

—I trust you—

"He loves you so much, Yasha," says Natalia, and she kisses his forehead gently. Then she slips out through the vent, and he's alone again. He mulls everything over for a long while, hoping against hope that Natalia was right and committing her words to memory. He could give mission reports, even when explanations were beyond his grasp.

When the Soldier is sure that he's ready, he heads soundlessly out of his room and across the hall to Steve's. In sleep, Steve's body looks vulnerable, and something twinges in the Soldier's heart.

"Steve," he says quietly. Steve is alert in a matter of moments, combat reflexes serving to wake him as the morning sun does not. Once the Soldier is sure that he has all of Steve's attention, he repeats his conversation with Natalia, word-perfect.

"Oh, Bucky," Steve murmurs, once he has finished. "Come here, please."

"Why?" the Soldier asks, though he is already obeying. His body reacts to Steve automatically.

"I want you to use your safe word whenever I do anything that hurts you, or anything you don't like, so that I know. I don't want to hurt you, Bucky, but I do want to accept you as you are and love you the way you need to be loved." The Soldier's throat has gone dry, with all the hope welling up inside him. "Have you chosen a word?"

—A man who touches him not to love him but only ever to hurt him in new and creative ways, whose touch makes the Soldier's plates recalibrate and his skin crawl—

"Pierce," answers the Soldier. "Please, Steve, will you please—"

"You want me to prove that I love you?" Steve asks, bringing a hand up gently to touch the Soldier's jaw. "You want me to follow through this time?"

"No," the Soldier breathes, leaning into Steve's hand.

"Then what—" Steve begins, and then he takes a deep breath, leaning closer and resting his forehead on the Soldier's metal shoulder for a moment. "Right, sorry. I'm still going to have to get used to this, but I'll do my best, I promise."

The Soldier stays still except for the fine tremors that rack his body with each pulse of anticipation that goes through him. Steve is about to touch him, to prove that he loves him, and it might not even hurt at all. This is everything he ever needed and more, and all it took was a few words. He's going to owe Natalia his very life for what she has done for him.

He chose his favorite well, he thinks.

After what feels like a small eternity, Steve's mouth touches his in the way they had before, softly and carefully. It's nice. The feeling of Steve's tongue in his mouth is still strange, but he gets used to it as before, and even likes it after a while. He wants Steve to do more, though, so he finishes the reenactment by pulling away and crying 'no.'

There is an anxious heartbeat where he is sure Steve will reel back again, sure that this is about to end.

Then Steve dives back in and keeps touching and licking with his mouth, and he breathes a sigh of relief.

After a while Steve pushes him down onto the bed, and that's new, too. He has been loved on floors and tables and in the chair for reprogramming, but no one has ever loved him in a place meant for sleeping. Steve doesn't seem tired, though, just the opposite. Steve's wakefulness is electric and catching.

He doesn't know what Steve is planning, but he doesn't want to, either. He trusts Steve in a way he has never trusted anyone before. So when hands start to pull his clothes off and touch the skin underneath, he only struggles enough to protest, not to really get away. He could, he's not restrained, but he doesn't want to discourage Steve from loving him.

But then he considers, and a horrible thought comes to him. What if Steve will only love him when he is soft, and pliant? What if his love is conditional?

The thought makes him want to cry, so he thrashes and screams and fights to get away.

He tries with all his strength, but Steve's serum-enhanced body is stronger. Steve quickly pins him on his back, each limb matched to one of his and holding him down. Only his left arm can move at all, but it doesn't have enough leverage to free itself, let alone him. The hold on him is tight and confining and he can barely move to relax his muscles, and it's perfect. Steve loves him, loves him too much to let him go.

Then Steve lets go, and he wants to cry again but he doesn't. He can make himself trust Steve, he knows he can, so he fights instead. He surges up—

Right into Steve's arms. Steve catches him around the chest and holds him tight enough to cut off his breathing, and then twists both his arms so his hands are between his shoulder blades. It seems Steve had used the pause to fetch handcuffs—ordinary, but sharp enough to cut into his flesh wrist if he struggles hard— which snap onto his wrists with satisfying firmness. He could easily unbend his arms, he knows, but then Steve shoves him back so that he's lying on the bed, his back forced into an arch over his hands. The position strains his joints just enough that he knows he's trapped. It doesn't hurt.

"No, no, stop," he begs. It's a word he's never used to protest before, but he doesn't question the impulse. He needs this love more, so he needs to fight harder to believe it. Steve sits up a little, still holding his legs down and bracing one hand on his chest to keep him in place. He watches Steve take one more deep, deep breath.

"No, I'm not going to stop," says Steve, leaning down to whisper, close and intimate, "because I love you."

Then Steve's free hand comes down between his legs, and he cries 'no' reflexively, but the touch doesn't feel painful like it usually does, just a little wrong the way it always does. After a few moments he starts to whimper 'no' again and again as the touch makes him respond. This, too, is not painful— rather, it is nice, pleasant, the way the touch of their mouths had been. He finds that he likes it.

"No!" he yells, a cry of simple uncertainty. He has never liked anyone's love before, no matter how much he craved it. Perhaps this, too, is because of how he loves Steve.

Steve's touch moves lower softly, touching what does not like to be touched and stretching what does not like to be stretched, but wetly. Even this does not hurt, when Steve does it, not even when Steve pushes inside him and begins to move in and out. The thrusts are quick and forceful but somehow still tender and they feel not just pleasant, but good. Steve's love feels good.

He can't get away, and for the first time, no part of him can, and no part of him wants to.

This is a different level of love, he thinks, where Steve gives it to him and he likes it, whether he wants to or not. Only Steve could be so good as to invent a whole new way to love him.

He almost doesn't want Steve to finish, but eventually he does. He doesn't withdraw immediately, though. Instead, Steve touches him until he finishes too, and until this moment he hadn't remembered that he could. Then he and Steve slump down together, and he frees his own hands to wrap them around Steve. He wants to be able to reciprocate the wonderful, powerful love that Steve has shown him, just a little.

Steve loves him, and that's so important and so, so good— and now, he knows it as an absolute certainty.

"Thank you," Bucky murmurs.

omg

Holy crap, this is the sweetest trash I've ever read. Thank you for this entire piece, it's so messed up and yet so beautiful. HE JUST WANTS TO BE LOVED. ARGH.

Omg, I love how there's so much wrong about it, but it's still so incredibly sweet and they love each other so much.

I've been loving this whole fill but I especially love this chapter. One, I do like my trash with a happy-ish ending and two, I really appreciate how you've written Steve and his struggle to ignore Bucky's "no" and just listen for a safeword--it's a problem I've had with doms in the past, so it really spoke to me.

I've been loving this entire fill, but this was my favorite part. The way you had Natasha explain Steve's reaction was ingenious -- not fighting Bucky's new "understanding" of what it means for someone to love you, but working with it to make sure Bucky gets what he needs and Steve can ignore "no" without feeling like he's taking advantage of Bucky. I loved the way Steve struggled initially to ignore Bucky's protests, but worked through it anyway, trusting Bucky to use his safe word if he really wanted Steve to stop. And omg, my poor little heart when Bucky was thinking about how Steve loves him so much he invented a new way to love him that doesn't hurt. This didn't ruin the trash for me at all -- it was an unexpected and delightful ending.

I'll probably get my dumpster diving credentials revoked for admitting this but I read the last part first just because I couldn't handle the thought of Bucky suffering so much without Stdve making it better. And the last part was so sweet and perfect and I read the whole thing and it just made the last part more sweet and perfect. I know I shouldn't be looking for sweetness and happy endings in this landfill but they are what sustains me

aaand the subject is about it. i put it up anonymously and if you guys want to go leave me kudos i would be very happy :D

also, all your comments are beautiful and they made me so happy to read that i blushed like a tomato in public and i had to not-explain the fact that i wrote a story where one of my most beloved characters of all time is brutalized physically and emotionally, and other people read and liked it.

also i got through that whole comment without actually giving you the link, because i am actually a moron.
http://archiveofourown.org/works/4462589/chapters/10140074

Yay I left kudos!

:D thank you

This is terrible and you are an evil mastermind. Please never stop ruining my life.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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

5+1 fill: 4: Steve

Re: 5+1 fill: 4: Steve

Re: 5+1 fill: 4: Steve

5+1 fill: +1: Bucky

Re: 5+1 fill: +1: Bucky

Re: 5+1 fill: +1: Bucky

Re: 5+1 fill: +1: Bucky

Re: 5+1 fill: +1: Bucky

Re: 5+1 fill: +1: Bucky

Re: 5+1 fill: +1: Bucky

it's on ao3 now

Re: it's on ao3 now

Re: it's on ao3 now

Re: it's on ao3 now

Re: 5+1 fill: +1: Bucky