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.

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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

Does it count as predicament bondage if you're stuck between a blowjob from your dead boyfriend and getting your asshole reamed by a neonazi? Idk but here's some more porn

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Steve watched, apprehensive as Rumlow whispered something in Bucky's ear and Bucky dropped to his knees, crawling until he knelt in front of Steve. One of the grunts unbuckled the strap of Bucky's muzzle at Rumlow's command. When the muzzle was pulled away, it revealed Bucky's lips, swollen and red and gleaming with drool, and a fat black rubber cock gag attached to the inside of the muzzle that had to have been shoved halfway down his throat. It was a wonder that Bucky hadn't gagged or choked or made the slightest sound the whole time he'd been in Steve's view. Or, it wasn't a wonder, really. Steve would bet his left arm that the sick fucks in front of him (or their predecessors) had trained Bucky to take it until he learned to stop gagging and choking and learned to suckle with silent acceptance instead. Jesus. And he'd thought the muzzle Bucky had been wearing on the bridge was bad.
Ignorant of the emotions he was stirring within Steve, Bucky inched forwards and craned his neck until he caught the head of Steve's half hard dick in his mouth, sucking with great skill and little enthusiasm. Steve tried to recoil, jerking his hips back, but Bucky seemed to have anticipated his reaction, because he merely leaned forwards and resumed sucking, only now Steve's ass was thrust as far out as he could manage in his current position.
"Asset, spread his cheeks for me." Rumlow commanded, swinging the riding crop carelessly in his hand as he circled around until he stood behind Steve. The hairs on the back on Steve's neck prickled in fear, and he was torn between staring wide eyed at what had become of his best friend and craning his neck around to see what Rumlow was doing. Steve decided against playing Rumlow's power game, and kept his eyes fixed to Bucky, because he still wasn't sure he wasn't imagining him, and he was afraid that despite the hot wet pleasure of Bucky's mouth around his rapidly hardening dick, Bucky would disappear again as soon as he left Steve's sights.
Steve's muscles tensed in anticipation as the crop cut through the air with a wooed, only to stop short and land as w gentle tap on his hip. Rumlow laughed again. He faked Steve out with a few more taps, then just as Steve was about to relax, he landed a full strength smack, dead centre over Steve's hole. The crop was just a common sex toy, designed to sting and excite rather than hurt, but Steve's hole was so tender and Rumlow had put so much strength into the blow that for a moment, it felt like Steve's hole had been kissed by a fire-hot brand, pain burning and bursting like an exploding star, then fading to a dull tight throb that beat in time with his heart. Steve cried out, more in surprise than anything else, then choked down a whimper as he realised that the instinctive forwards jerk of his hips had driven his cock hard down Bucky's throat. He quickly pulled back, which put his ass back on presentation again. Bucky only suckled dutifully at his cock, not enough to make him come, but more than enough to make him hard and eager, more than enough to dull the edges of the pain throbbing between his spread cheeks until its edges blurred with pleasure. So that was why Rumlow had made Bucky suck him in this position. It was clever, he had to give it to the man. Steve had a choice between offering his ass to get whipped and shoving his cock down his Bucky's throat. Steve had to hold himself still from any instinctive flinching and hold his ass out like he was gagging to get it beaten, and it would be his choice to do so. Steve wanted to flinch further away from Bucky, but the chains holding him up didn't allow any further movement, and he was left to choose between degrading himself and degrading Bucky. It wasn't really a choice. He pushed his ass as far out as he was able and bit on his lip to stifle his cry when the next crack of the crop came, trying to relax and accept the pain and let it wash through him without flinching. The blows rained down, building in speed and intensity until his hole was just one raw burning mass of pain, each blow biting through him until they all blurred together. Bucky's mouth was wet and warm around his dick, and the pleasure and the pain began to confuse him, until the impact of the crop on his hole made him feel like he was being fucked, the burn of pain working its way inside of him blurring with the pleasure until he was nothing but a mass of sensation, pain and pleasure and the overwhelming burn of shame lighting his every nerve on fire, until he could hardly breathe or think, strung out on sensation and humiliation. Steve's hands were clenched tight, but the rest of him was relaxed as much as he could manage in an attempt to keep from flinching forwards, and left with nothing to tense against and no way to bear down against the pain, Steve felt even more helpless and unhinged, and his soft bitten off grunts soon transformed into hitching sobs, his powerlessness flooding through him until tears streamed down his face.
Steve wasn't sure how long it had been when Rumlow finally stopped beating him with the crop. He was trembling in his bonds, damp with sweat and tears and Bucky's spit. He felt lightheaded and wounded despite having walked off much worse. It took a moment for Steve to notice the lull in action, mind still fuzzy. He has a few moments to feel the creep of apprehension up his spine before a whistle cuts through the air and a thin stripe of pain digs into him, pain exploding jagged and sharp, and Steve would have thought that he had been cut open, only there was no trickle of blood. Or at least not yet. The switch hurts more than the crop, sharper, more focussed, a knife's edge slash of agony biting deep into the abused muscle of Steve's hole. Rumlow took his time with this new implement, giving Steve seconds between each smack to appreciate the depths and dimensions of his agony. The spaces in between were almost worse.
Steve wanted desperately to twitch away or at least clench up and hide his hole, but Bucky's mouth on his dick was a stern reminder and Bucky's hands on his cheeks pulled him open and exposed with an unforgiving iron grip. Steve was trapped on all sides, unable to do anything but twitch his hole futilely and suffer through it, each agonising bite of the switch driving out a louder and more desperate noise until he responded with sobs and soft wailing, a hurt desperate noise involuntarily tearing itself out of his throat with every new bruise.

OP

Ohhhhh, this is deliciously nasty and awful. And the unwanted-blowjob predicament bondage is the icing on the cake. *chinhands*

He tried to keep quiet, but he was so helpless like this, all strung up and trapped, and he had nothing to push against or bite down on, so the noises kept emerging unbidden from his throat as he tried to orient himself against the dizzying spin of shame in his head, adrift and lost and completely trapped. His wailing grew louder and louder, until the noises of his yells and whines and cries almost drowned out the cracking of the switch against his sore inflamed flesh and the wet noises of his cock in Bucky's mouth. Cloth ruffles and the whisper of skin on skin and the quiet grunts of HYDRA agents around him palming at their eager erections marked the brief seconds when Steve was allowed to be silent, until it didn't anymore, because Steve was crying with steady hitched sobs now, hurt noises escaping from his mouth without being first prompted by a sharp impact. His lips were open as his jaw hung slack, saliva making the bruised flesh glisten, a little trail of drool snaking down the corner of his lips marking his incoherence. He alternated between hiding his face into a bicep and trying to muffle his voice and shaking his head, trying to struggle against his pain in a way that didn't hurt Bucky. Steve knew oughtn't be this bothered by the pain. He'd had much worse picking fights in back alleys, to say nothing of the war. He'd come away from sparring and training exercises with more painful injuries. The pain of it, the degradation, the way Bucky looked at him with no recognition and was obedient and pliant in Rumlow's even as he was hurting, it all ate away at him, until he didn't know what to do except try and fail to contain his pathetic sobs.
This was nothing like when Bucky used to take him apart, back before the war, when he would be strung out and laid open and made to cry and tremble, pleasure and shame and love all twining deep into a golden liquid pool in his gut, taking him up so high he was surprised he hadn't floated off the ground and into the stratosphere. The ugly shame of it now was like bubbling acid in his chest, eroding away at him until he was left with nothing, not his strength or stubbornness or stoicism or his hard earned combat skills, he was trapped and pinned and completely helpless, and Bucky was half of what was keeping him trapped in the first place. He had a safeword, all those years ago, and when he was too overwhelmed or ashamed he could simply whisper "Brooklyn" and Bucky would stop and fuss over him contritely. Now he couldn't even beg for Rumlow to stop. He felt raw and expose, like an insect who had been pinned and was about to have its wings plucked off. The bite of the switch and the buzz on his skin were almost secondary. Steve was convinced that it was the sight of Bucky on his knees more than any other thing that made his tears flow uncontrollably down his face. He was so angry, was the thing. It was bad enough that Bucky didn't recognise Steve or that Bucky now had a metal arm or that he apparently had been turned into a weapon of hydra for all these years while Steve slept, ignorant and blissful in the arctic ice or wallowed blindly in his misery at Bucky's death. No, the worst of it was that Rumlow had reduced Bucky to just another thing pinning Steve in place, the world's deadliest assassin being used for nothing more than his warm wet mouth. Bucky was just a thing to them, and if Rumlow didn't want to play his mind games with Steve using the face of his formerly deceased best friend, then Bucky as he was, on his knees with his mouth warm and wet and open, could probably have been replaced with a toy or some more bindings and Steve would still be forced to stick his ass out with his cheeks spread open. Steve knew that it was hardly his own fault that Bucky had become the winter soldier, but those old self recriminations of if only he had caught Bucky, if only he had been faster or better, they all came rush shine right back, this time coupled with thoughts of how he hadn't even looked, hadn't even tried to search for Bucky's body. If he hadn't been so damn eager to martyr himself, he could have made it off the plane and he would have had opportunity to rescue Bucky. He was angry, but it was a helpless kind of rage, the kind that made him surly and brittle back before the serum. he hadn't felt like this for a long time, not since he had stepped out of that metal coffin a whole foot taller. It was like being struck back down to nothing. Forget captain America or the serum or being a decorated war hero or saving the world. He was nothing, he had been brought back down to nothing, and all Rumlow had to do to put him there was spank him a few times and threaten him with a blowjob from the man who had taught Steve how good getting his dick sucked could feel.
Steve wanted to beg, wanted to writhe around in pain, wanted to pretend it all wasn't happening and retreat into himself. But Bucky's unyielding grip and Bucky's wet mouth and Bucky's helpless terrified eyes kept him grounded in the moment, unable to struggle or move or even to beg. What would he beg for? If Rumlow wasn't playing with Steve, he would be playing with Bucky, so all Steve could beg for was more and harder and don't stop. Steve shivered in his bonds and sobbed inconsolably, eyes squeezed tight shut and lashes damp and heavy with tears.
"Look at you, Cap." Rumlow said in the next pause in Steve's beating. "Crying like a little bitch. What happened to all your posturing, tough guy? Still think you're hot shit?" Steve buried his face against his arm and sobbed in response.
Rumlow tsked, obviously dissatisfied with Steve's response. Steve heard the noise of the switch being set down and the rustle of Rumlow's clothes, then screamed in shock as the unyielding blunt end of a stub baton was pressed against hole and turned on. Steve's hole was already painful and raw from the race and the beatings, but the electricity that ran through him burned him until it was as if his hole had been set on fire, agony fizzling around his insides until his hole was almost numb with the overwhelming pain. Rumlow withdrew the baton after a second, satisfied with Steve's scream. Steve panted, limp in his bonds, then noticed that he had been writhing away from the source of pain, and that Bucky was very quietly and unobtrusively gagging on his cock. He snapped his hips backwards. Rumlow took this as a signal for more, and the baton returned to Steve's hole, this time penetrating it with the two inches of its length. This time when Rumlow turned it on, Steve's hole contracted hard against the unyielding mass of the baton, forced by the electricity to clench down too hard until Steve's hole was hurting itself against its hard edges. Steve's scream this time was muffled by his bicep, but it was still loud and desperate. Rumlow kept him writhing on the baton for about six or seven seconds, then turned it off. Steve had tried to move away again, and Bucky was patiently deepthroating him without so much as a single gag. Steve returned to position, and Rumlow turned the baton back on. They repeated this dance four or five more times, Rumlow keeping the stun baton on for longer and longer, until Steve's screams became hoarse and weak, and he learned to control himself so he didn't try to get away from the source of his pain. Bucky's eyes were wet with tears and his drool trailed down his chin, all marks of Steve's failure. Rumlow tsked when Steve's hips only jerked minutely when shocked, and removed the baton. Steve panted, every inhale of air rasping against his sore throat, every shiver of his weak legs jostling the mass of pain centred on his poor abused hole. After a second of fiddling and a soft ominous click from the stun baton, it returned, this time pressed deeper into his hole until it saw just deep enough to prod at his prostate. When Rumlow turned it on, Steve realised distantly that he must have upped the voltage even as he screamed and his hips jerked forwards, his hole and his prostate all contracting until he was face fucking Bucky ruthlessly, trying to get away from the pain. He must have ejaculated, because his prostate and his urethra both felt like they had been scraped raw with sandpaper, and there was come on the corner of Bucky's mouth as he gagged and drooled, but Steve felt none of the release or the pleasure, only pain as it tore at him, making him scream and scream and scream until it was gone, and blissfully he was left only to tremble and sob. It was difficult to tell, given that Steve's insides were still slimy from all the come that had been shot into him, but Steve thought that his hole might have bled from how hard it squeezed down against the unyielding baton.
"I think you're about tight enough to fuck again." Rumlow announced, prodding at the swollen red thing that had once been Steve's pink tight hole. Steve sobbed. Rumlow pressed his stun baton to Steve's perineum just behind his balls and turned it on, causing Steve to scream and thrash again, spurts of come shooting like shards of glass through his urethra and into Bucky's convulsing throat.
"Aren't you going to thank me for taking good care of your slut hole, captain?" Rumlow asked with his shit eating grin, the baton still pressed threateningly behind Steve's balls. "Fuck you." Steve croaked, the echo of lightening still buzzing in his body making him careless.
Rumlow grinned and turned the stun baton on again. When Steve stopped screaming, Rumlow remarked, "if you don't want to play, I could always have some fun with your boyfriend instead." Steve's head shot up, and through the fog of pain clouding his thoughts, he remembered why he had been playing along up til now.
"I'm sorry." He whispered through the burning protest of his vocal cords. "Thank you, please, Rumlow, thank you."
Rumlow grinned and ran a proprietary hand down Steve's trembling, sweaty flank. Then he set aside the baton and began prodding Steve's hole, pressing a finger against the swollen trembling muscle and grinning when it entered with difficulty, the burning hot flesh around it tight and throbbing. Steve whined. The breach of the finger was nothing compared to the burn of the stun baton, but it still felt like his ass was being split open again. Worse, even, because the first time Rumlow and his goons had split his backside open, it at least hadn't been this over-sensitive screaming ring of pain that sent jolts through him when he breathed or twitched to hard, to say nothing of the agonising pressure of a finger or the burn of its stretch. Steve sobbed, a full heaving motion of chest, tears streaming once again down his face as he felt the blunt wet head of Rumlow's cock pressing at his entrance.

"Please, please." He begged, face scrunched up against the agony. The words had slipped out of his mouth before he'd realised. He was saying them, and he immediately regretted it.
"Please what, slut?" Rumlow teased, running his hand over Steve's clamped nipples as he kept his cock pressed to Steve's hole without pushing inside. Steve wanted to beg please no, and to beg for a reprieve, but Bucky's mouth was still suckling painfully at his sensitive soft cock, so instead he gritted his teeth and begged, "please, fuck me."
"Good boy, cap. You're such a good little slut." Rumlow praised, flicking one of Steve's clamped nipples. Steve bit off a scream, shocked at this new unfamiliar pain, and Rumlow chuckled and flicked at the other. Then, his blunt cock head was pressing inside of Steve, slow but firm and inexorable. Steve's mouth opened in a soundless yell, eyes rolling back and fists clenching. It was like a hot poker had been shoved inside, and when Rumlow started fucking him open, the friction was unbearable. Steve had hated the humiliating pleasure of a cock plotting into him and grinding against his hole the first time he'd been fucked open, but now he almost wished for the shame of that instead. The burn was pure agony, each long slow thrust a jagged knife slicing another wound into his insides. Steve bit the flesh of his bicep to try keep quiet against the assault, but muffled sobs and whines still escaped unbidden, and Rumlow chuckled at the sounds.
"It's alright whore, no need to be embarrassed." He whispered soothingly into Steve's ear. "Let me hear your moans. I want to know how good I make you feel." Steve reluctantly stopped hiding his face against his arm, and with Rumlow's next brutal slow thrust, a high pitched moan escaped from his mouth. It was a moan of pure agony, but against the wet squelch of Runlow's dick in his ass and the slap of Rumlow's skin against his, it sounded sluttish and desperate, like he was begging for more instead of begging for a respite. "That's a good slut." Rumlow said, then chuckled. He sped up the pace, snapping his hips hard and fast, until the invasion of his cock in Steve's ass stopped feeling like a series of knife jabs and started feeling like one long painful burn. Steve sobbed and moaned trying to relax his hole and spread himself wider to alleviate the burn, but his hole was tight from swelling more than from then clench of his sphincter, and all he managed was to twitch his hole welcomingly. Rumlow drove into him furiously, yanking on Steve's clamped tits with one hand and occasionally flicking Steve's balls with the other, or scratching a nail over his raw swollen rim. Steve wailed and wailed as he was fucked, Rumlow's cock bruising him and feeling like it was twice it's actual girth. Rumlow gripped Steve's hips with both hands, then slammed into him once, twice, thrice, then he was shooting his burning hot load into Steve's sore ass. Rumlow withdrew after a moment, then zipped himself back up.
"Floor's open." Rumlow said to their eager audience. "Cap's all yours."
A circle formed around Steve, with a gap where Bucky knelt. The HYDRA agents didn't ignore Bucky, as some of them would stroke a hand over him or tug teasingly on his hair, or even nudge him between his ass cheeks with a boot, but their interest in him was fleeting. They groped at Steve, tugging on his clamped nipples and massaging his tits, shoving their fingers into his mouth and flicking at his balls. A cock worked its way into his ass, fucking him quick and hard and dirty. Steve sobbed as he was teased and pinched and fondled as the men all waited impatiently for their turn. His ass was burning, and his tits were tight and painful, and someone was flicking and squeezing his balls hard enough to bruise. A tongue licked at his armpit, then trailed wet and hot over his nipple. The clamp was tugged off, and his nipple was sucked until the blood rushed back in a flood of agony. Someone was fondling his dick even as it sat half hard and painful in Bucky's mouth, prodding at it and slipping a finger alongside it into Bucky. His hair was being pulled back and his throat bitten, then he was being choked, blood pounding in his ears as the cock in his ass tore at him mercilessly until it spurted out its cum and he was released, left to pant and sob and whine as another cock took it's place, this one shorter but fatter than the last.
Steve wanted to retreat into himself, the kind of voluntary dissociation he perfected first when his chronic pains flared up and then after the serum when morphine only numbed the pain of gut wounds a little bit and he sometimes found himself tied to a chair being interrogated by nazis. But unlike the first time when they'd fucked him with this full lineup, Bucky was still kneeling at his feet, and Steve couldn't tear himself away. Steve was anchored firmly in his body as he was ravaged and used thoroughly for a second time, had to bear the touch of countless hands on his body's and an unending line of hard dicks in his burning hole with his full attention. He became a raw exposed nerve, helpless to the pain inflicted on him, made to feel every sensation thrust upon him too keenly with his superhuman sensitivity. Steve's eyes had run dry, but he couldn't stop sobbing. His throat had been screamed raw, until he was reduced to soft hitching grunts. He still did his best to stick his ass out and not to push himself deeper down Bucky's throat. But the rest of him was limp against his bonds and the hands tugging and pulling at every inch of him.
When the last of them finished in his ass, his hole was almost numb. If he even so much as twitched, fresh jolts of pain would shoot through him, but if he kept still, his hole was mostly numb and only burned at the edges. Rumlow made a return, behind down to tug Bucky's hair and pull him off Steve's dick, which had unwillingly hardened once again.
"You took it like a good slut, cap, so we'll give you a reward before we send you to the electric chair." Rumlow said, smiling. The others in the room all tittered with amusement. "You can make love with your boyfriend one last time. I'll even let you decide if you wanna be top or bottom."
It was then that Steve realised with mounting horror that he had been thinking of Bucky as a mindless thing the same way Rumlow and his goons did, as a restraint keeping him obedient or a predicament to reinforce his humiliation. Here Rumlow was, playing mind games with Steve and using Bucky a game piece, and here Steve was, playing his game, even if he was loosing, looking at Bucky's like he was a pawn rather than a player.
"Bottom." Steve said, trying to keep his voice even. Bucky's hole had been bruised and swollen when Rumlow had made him show Steve. It probably burnt as bad as Steve's. "Come one, Buck, remember when we used to do this?" He said, looking Bucky in the eye and speaking directly to him for the first time since Bucky had entered the room. "I used to spread myself real eager for you, remember that?" Steve ignored the titter of mocking laughter from his audience. "Come on, once more for old time's sake, huh?" Bucky only stared at him, eyes wide, and it wasn't until Rumlow gave him an order to ' go ream out Cap's sloppy cunt' that he moved.
"Give it to him good, Asset." Rumlow grinned. "Show him how much you love him, huh?"
Bucky stood up, releasing his grip on Steve's cheeks. He circled around until he stood behind Steve. Steve heard the sound of Bucky tugging on his dick, the soft whisper of the ribbon being untied and slipping to the ground, then felt Bucky pressing into him. The shape and feel of him was so familiar, even through the burning blinding pain, and it was more this relief of familiarity and homecoming than the agony of penetration that made Steve start crying again. In front of Steve, Rumlow was running his mouth off about how good he was to the Asset to let him have their sloppy left overs, and wasn't it good for the Asset to be the one doing the fucking for once? But Steve ignore Rumlow.
"Bucky." He said softly. "Bucky,no lease, remember me? It's your friend Steve. It's your Stevie, Buck." Bucky gave no sign that he heard Steve, pistoning in and out of Steve brutally and mechanically. At Rumlow's command, he closed his metal hand around Steve's dick for a reacharound.
"Please, Buck." Steve begged, with the same soft murmur. "Remember when you used to tease me about whoring me out to a whole line up? You always said you never could go through with it because you wanted me to belong to you and you only. Well I've taken more dicks today that I can count, but that doesn't mean I don't still belong to you. I'm still yours, Buck. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter what we've done or what we'Ve been through, I'll always be yours." Steve's voice was gentle and pleading and hypnotic in it's honesty. It might have been Steve's imagination, but he could have sworn the flesh hand holding his hip tightened ever so slightly. "I'm yours Buck. Jesus, Buck, I love you and I'm yours, please Buck." Steve could feel his balls tighten and his gut tense as his orgasm built up. "I'm yours" he repeated, too soft for anyone but a super soldier to hear, then he was coming, and when Rumlow saw his mouth drop open and his dick begin to pulse, he gave a command and behind him, Bucky stiffened then he was coming too, dick twitching and pulsing inside Steve. Steve's hole was stuffed full of come, dripping with it, but he could have sworn that Bucky's jizz was burning against his insides as it marked him. Steve slumped for a moment in his bonds as he waited for Bucky to finish coming and withdraw. Come slid slick and slimy down Steve's thigh after Bucky withdrew. Steve was gaping again. There was a soft rustle as Bucky picked up the ribbon on the ground and tied it back around his dick. Then he circled back and stood next to Rumlow, waiting for his next order.
With his heart pounding almost in his throat, Steve straightened, standing as steadily as he could manage, and took a final desperate gamble.
"Brooklyn." Steve said, loud and clear, his voice carrying throughout the whole of the dank dingy cell. He stared into Bucky's eyes. "Brooklyn." He repeated again, softer but no less firmly. Bucky's face contorted, his eyebrows drawing together and his mouth falling open. There was some speck of his former self emerging, and his metal arm whirred and shifted as his spine tensed and his hands clenched. Then he relaxed again. Rumlow advanced upon Steve, sure that Steve had tried something funny.
"He's not gonna remember you whatever you say." Rumlow sneered. "His brains have been scrambled better than the eggs you had for breakfast."

Just as Steve thought that Rumlow was right and that he had failed, Bucky swung his right fist into the back of Rumlow's head and, in the same motion, snapped the chains holding Steve up with his left. The cell exploded into chaos, as men with their pants almost literally around their ankles were mowed down by a pair of naked and furious supersoldiers. They managed to strip Rumlow and another one of the STRIKE members of their clothes and collected as many weapons as they could carry, then Bucky punched through the locking mechanism of the cell's door, and they were out, plotting through the guards outside and drooling every hydra agent in their way with deadly efficiency. Bucky's fighting style had changed, but Steve could still somewhat anticipate his actions, and the pair of them worked together like a not particularly well oiled but still mostly operational machine. Alarms only started ringing after they had broken out of the facility's and emerged outside the parking lot of a building with the logo of a bank emblazoned on all of the doors. They stared at each other for a moment, and Steve was sure that Bucky was about to bolt, or strike Steve down, or break down into pieces, but Maria Hill chose that exact moment to appear with Sam and Natasha in a nondescript grey Toyota. Sam sat in the passenger seat and Natasha sat behind Hill, and they both had guns out while Hill had one had on the steering wheel and one hand by her shoulder holster.
"Don't shoot!" Steve whispered urgently. "Bucky helped me escape."
Bucky tensed, but did not otherwise move. After a moment, Steve opened the car door and climbed inside.
"I don't know who this Bucky is." Bucky said, but docilely climbed into the backseat after Steve. "I just know that Brooklyn is a passcode for an order to cease current actions and provide assistance."
"It was our safeword." Steve said, mindful of the attention the other three were paying them. "I suppose that was what it meant, but it wasn't a pass code or an order, not really."
Bucky looked terribly confused. "But, that was a passcode. You programmed it into me. It might be old programming but I still remember you programming me with it. Brooklyn is a trigger code to stop what I am doing and help Steve. You are Steve, that is your code name, yes? You have the authority to use the code, so you must be my handler Steve. That is the only person with authority to use that trigger phrase."
Steve's face pinched into am unhappy expression. "I'm Steve, but that's not a code name. My name is Steve Grant Rogers, and your name is James Buchanan Barnes. I am your friend, not your handler."
Bucky's expression was even more bewildered. "Friend? Wh- that's not correct. The Asset responds only to the orders of authorised handlers. The Asset only interacts with authorised members of HYDRA. The Asset does not accept orders from those without correct authorisation."
Steve tried not to frown. "It's okay if you don't remember being my friend, Bucky." He said. "I - even if you don't remember me, I'm still with you til the end of the line."
There was a moment of silence as Bucky's eyes went wild and unfocused, and he froze in his seat. After a second, he looked at Steve again, with wide disbelieving eyes. "S-Steve?" He said, uncertainly.
Steve could feel his smile threatening to split his face. "Yeah Buck, it's me."
"I- I thought you were...smaller." Bucky said with a frown, trying to chase the memory of the bony blond man he could have sworn was the same person as the man beside him.
"I thought you were dead." Steve replied thickly, and Bucky's eyes widened again with the onslaught of yet another memory.
"You-you joined the army." Bucky said, testing out the idea.
"Yeah Buck, I did." Steve confirmed, and slumped down in relief. Beside him, Bucky didn't look anymore relaxed, but the furrow between his eyebrows eased and his eyes were no longer wild and terrified, they way they had been when Steve first saw him on the bridge or when the tech had lead him into Steve's holding cell.
Natasha and Sam did not put their weapons away, but they lowered them minutely, and Hill returned her hand to the gearstick and started to drive.
"There's someone you need to see." Hill said.
Steve looked questioningly at Natasha, who was sitting beside him. "Don't look at me." Natasha said."I haven't seen anyone but these two and a couple of hobos sleeping by the bank's doors since we separated."
"Your friend Hill here was disguised as one of the soldiers guarding us in the van." Sam said. "We got out, but we've been tailing you since then. It took a while to get this close to the building without being detected. We were hoping to break you out before they finished monologuing and fed you to the sharks."
"Not monologuing" Bucky interjected, "no sharks." his eyes went unfocused as he reported tonelessly: "Director Alexander Pierce issued orders for Captain Steven Rogers, code name Captain America, Level Six target, to be transferred to STRIKE Team Alpha leader Level Eight Agent Brock Rumlow and sixteen HYDRA agents above clearance Level Seven of his choosing to break in Rogers' tight little fuck hole and teach him how to take cock and then transferred to Asset Maintenance teams Alpha through Gamma to be wiped and reprogrammed into a HYDRA Asset. Hail Hydra." A pause, then, "Director Pierce has given orders for the Asset to assist Agent Rumlow in any capacity required for the interrogation of Captain Rogers. Authorise switch to Protocol Beta, passcode Satin. You are to wear your pretty pink ribbon around your pretty pink dick and be a good little cock slut for Agent Rumlow and his men. Hail Hydra."
No one spoke after Bucky finished reciting the orders. The car was terribly silent. Bucky looked nervous, as if he knew that he had said something upsetting, somehow, but he wasn't sure what it was and how he would be punished. Steve squeezed his eyes shut. He suddenly remembered that in the rush of the escape, Bucky hadn't gotten a chance to remove the ribbon tied around his cock. Steve also suddenly felt the tug of his one remaining nipple clamp, also neglected in the flurry of action. Steve took a deep breath, trying to pretend that the screaming ache of his asshole wasn't coming back to him as his adrenaline levels dropped.
"How bout we talk about it later." Steve suggested. Sam, Natasha and Hill exchanged meaningful glances, but they showed their silent agreement by turning the topic of conversation to updates of the information Hill had shared with them in Steve's absence and rummaging around Hill's first aid kit for bandages when Natasha's shoulder wound bled through both its dressing and her shirt.
HYDRA still needed to be stopped. The whole world was at stake. They would worry about it later. There was no other choice.

----
I can't believe it took me this long to write 9K words but here it is finally. I hope I did the amazing prompt justice. I'll probably tidy it up and put it on AO3 as soon as I get a chance to proof read it. Thanks for reading! :))))
(Also I can't believe I ended this so happily. I'm trash but I'm also trashier than trash because I'm a sucker for a happyish ending.)

Yes! Steve triggering Bucky's memories with sex (or as of right now, safewords) and them taking Hydra out together is my biggest weakness! My only regret is that when this goes up on ao3 I'll only be able to leave kudos once.

OP

OMG, this is everything I could've wanted out of this prompt in terms of sheer, unrepentant filthy id porn. And we get Bucky eventually recognizing Steve! Bless you, author!anon, bless you.

So I tidied it up and made some changes then wrote a gross happy epilogue. Here it is on AO3 (http://archiveofourown.org/works/4437077)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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

FILL part 2 Rumlow/Steve, Rumlow/Bucky, hydra gangbang.

Re: FILL part 2 Rumlow/Steve, Rumlow/Bucky, hydra gangbang.

Re: FILL part 3 Rumlow/Steve, Rumlow/Bucky, hydra gangbang.

Re: FILL part 4 Rumlow/Steve, Rumlow/Bucky, hydra gangbang.

Re: FILL part 5 Rumlow/Steve, Rumlow/Bucky, hydra gangbang.

Re: FILL part 5 Rumlow/Steve, Rumlow/Bucky, hydra gangbang.

Re: FILL part 5 Rumlow/Steve, Rumlow/Bucky, hydra gangbang.

Tidied up on AO3 + a sappy happy epilogue