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

They lie together for a while afterwards, Steve dozing against Bucky’s shoulder, drifting in and out of sleep as light slowly fills the room until Bucky finally slips out of bed. When he comes back, freshly-showered, shaved, still doing up the buttons on his shirt cuffs, he pauses in the doorway to look Steve up and down just as shamelessly as Steve is looking at him. Finally he laughs and shakes his head.

“You go ahead and lounge there, mister, but some of us gotta work for a living."

Steve responds by miming a luxurious stretch and nestling down in the sheets, which are very comfortable against his bare skin, in a dramatic swoon.

"See, this is what I can't believe people still don't know about you," Bucky goes on with a laugh in his voice. Aren't you supposed to say 'Oh no, the Sentinel of Liberty never sleeps in'? Maybe it's time for my first press leak." He imitates a newspaper hawker's cadence. "Exclusive, exclusive! Only in the Tribune! Captain America an irredeemable smartass, shows no pity for for close friend's delicate condition – oh for God's sake," he adds when Steve stiffens, "That was a joke. I can still make those, can't I?"

There's a moment when Steve feels like he's suddenly on a highwire, not sure how he lost his balance or how to find it again. Then he shoots back with, "I dunno, you never could before."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about." Bucky goes back to buttoning his shirt, shaking his head. "You're lucky you're so cute," he adds, mock stern, "Or you'd be stuck with your own cooking for breakfast."

Funnily enough, it’s the crack about having to work for a living that sticks in Steve’s craw as he dresses. He’s glad Bucky is doing whatever the hell he does all day – having nothing to do and nowhere to go can drive a guy crazy, Steve knows, and he imagines having your head fixed all day long might do the same. But while Steve had gotten fixed up with, well, with more money than he’d ever dreamed of when he’d gotten out of the ice, Bucky’s back-pay seemed to be stuck in an endless loop of reevaluations, revisions, and re-approvals. It’s not about the cash to Steve, it’s about respect, that Bucky isn’t any less deserving than he is. But Bucky doesn’t seem to care as much as he does, and Steve knows there are plenty of people who need it more and have waited longer, so he steps on the urge to go in and throw his weight around. He lets it be.

He wakes up to an ache in his body, a crick in his neck, and Bucky's voice saying "Aw no, aw Jesus.” He flounders for a moment, then Bucky says, "Just get up off the floor Steve, please, come on," and it comes back to him.

He grabs onto the hand reaching down for him and clings onto it like he's never going to let go. "You're okay?" he manages, voice still rough.

"I'm fine, just get off the goddamn floor." Bucky sounds almost like he's in physical pain.

They end up on the edge of the bed, clinging onto each other's forearms. Steve keeps looking Bucky up and down, biting back the urge to pat him down for injuries that he doesn't have, even if he does look like someone's hit him in the stomach.

"What happened last night?"

"I don't know," Bucky says, sounding as miserable and desperate as when he was begging Steve to get off the floor. Then, "Why don't you tell me what you saw."

After a few false starts he goes with, "We were in bed. We were – fucking. About to fuck." Specifically, Steve was trying to take his time and make it good for Bucky, not just something that thad to be gotten out of the way. "I was reading you all wrong, Buck, I’m so sorry –”

“Steve, for the love of God, save it. Just tell me.”

Bucky’s face had been as blank as the Winter Soldier’s, except instead of that awful intensity there had been next to nothing. Steve had talked to him, shaken him, even finally slapped him across the cheek to try to knock him out of it, but the only response he could get was a breathy, half-mumbled, “Yes sir,” every time. If Bucky had ever sounded that dopey when he was in his right mind, Steve would have given himself a stitch trying not to burst out laughing. This just scared the hell out of him. In the end, he tried saying, “Go to sleep,” in the firm-calm voice he used for nervous crowds. To his horror and relief, it worked. Or at least Bucky turned over, closed his eyes, and started breathing deeply and evenly.

Steve had stumbled back. His hands were steady, but he felt like he should be shaking. He couldn’t stop thinking about what else he could have said and had Bucky just turn over and do it, and let him do it, it wouldn’t be anything that –

For a desperate, wild moment Steve wondered if he should call someone, then dismissed it. He wasn’t a danger to anyone except himself or very possibly Steve, and Steve could handle that. He could handle just about anything except more of what he’d just seen.

“Then I took the spare blanket and set myself up on the floor,” he finishes. “I didn’t think you should be alone.” Steve leaves out the part where he couldn’t stand still, he was so angry and heartbroken he felt his skin was crawling. He had paced around the room for a good while, and then he’d done pushups until the nervous energy started to bleed off. For Steve, that was a lot of pushups.

Bucky had listened quietly, one hand steady on Steve’s back, so it was a surprise when the moment he was done he was up on his feet, turning away and saying in a rush, “I know what happened, I won’t let it happen again.” He was wearing yesterday’s boxers and one of the long-sleeved shirts he slept in, and if Steve hadn’t grabbed at the shirt’s hem he probably would have been half-way to the door by the time Steve said his name.

“There’s two of us here. Come on, Bucky, I want to understand.”

“Yeah, well maybe I don’t want you to understand!” Bucky pulls himself free, backs up a few steps. “If I’d had a choice,” he goes on fiercely, “You never even would have heard about any of the shit that happened to me. I’m sorry, I know that’s not how you want it. But that’s the truth, Steve. The last goddamn thing I want is for you to understand it.”

Uuh yes, perfect! All the kudos to you for picking this up again! <3

Thank you so much! :D

It's so wonderful to see more of this :D

I like that the comedown from their first successful attempt at banging is so casual and normal; there's a lot of drama and pathos inherent in their messed-up situation, and these sweet everyday kind of interactions do a good job at keeping everything grounded. Also I LOVE their teasing each other, and that moment where Steve slips up and regains his footing through insult -- love expressed through trash talk is the best kind, bless them.

I empathize with the thing stuck in Steve's craw because, out of everything going on in this fic, I have also ended up weirdly fixated on what Bucky does all day. WHAT DOES HE DO. WHERE IS HE. WHY IS IT A SECRET AND WHY IS STEVE AFRAID TO ASK? Here is my best guess: he owns a little run-down button store, one of the ones that just sells hundreds of varieties of buttons. He uses his world-class aim to thread needles for people.

And as for their next sexual disaster, the imagery of Bucky going all doll-like is absolutely horrifying, and I am both tender-hearted and brokenhearted for Steve, working through the horror with PUSH-UPS (STEVE ilu) and then sleeping on the floor! That being said, I really love that they didn't just fuck once and then everything is hunky-dory; they're still figuring it out and stumbling over landmines. Also <3 all the new and exciting ways you figure out for their attempts at sex to misfire! I don't think Bucky ever freaks out in the same way twice. He gets angry, or he runs, or he goes blank, or... It's part of what makes your characterization of his trauma feel nicely multifaceted, and at the same time it calls up all this horrible resonance, like, how many different ways did they fuck him up that he's got this huge range of responses? I mean, the whole thing where Bucky knew exactly what had happened -- how often has he gone through this?

Lastly maybe the thing that breaks my heart the most is actually their communication issues? Because Steve just wants to stop stumbling around in the dark and Bucky doesn't have the slightest inclination to reveal more awfulness than he's had to, and both of their needs are valid and understandable, and I just want them to BE HONEST. DAMMIT. -- oh, I finished writing this comment and then it occurred to me how sad I was about Bucky's line "if I'd had a choice." He didn't have a choice in being raped, or needing to keep having sex the way they made him, or in admitting any of these things happened to him. The least dignity the world could afford him would be to preserve his secrets, but no. It's too sad.

Anyway, thank you for the great update and please take as much time as you need with this.

Ahh, thank you so much!

At the end of the day, the reason these two people are going through all this shit together is that they love each other and I felt it was important to show that besides all the heavy stuff – loyalty, passion, a whole lot of angst – there's some sweetness to their relationship, too. Although if Steve hadn't gotten them back on track there would've been some drama – Bucky was totally pushing him there going go ahead, tell me not to joke about my delicate condition, I dare you.

Well, all will be made clear in the fullness of time. (This porn grew a plot tumor and it's very awkward). You know, a while ago I was daydreaming up potential jobs for pre-War Bucky to have (because it can't be all Docks all the time) I was thinking about something that would leverage the skills we know he has as a sniper – keen eye, steady hands, patience – and one of the answers I came up was working with cloth.

Yeah, unfortunately for them/fortunately for the readership these things are never "one and done." And they really were trying very hard! Like I've said before, one of the things that made me keep thinking about the initial prompt was, how do you recover a sense of agency and autonomy when you've had your response changed for good? And that feeds into his reluctance to talk about it – although there's a little more to it than that. The ultimate road to "making it work" is going to be about feeling differently as much as doing the right things.

As always, thank you for your comments and I'm sorry for having been such a bum about replying!

Yeah, I agree it's always important for a fic (well, any romance! and mainstream romance fails at this so often!) to show why two people actually like each other, and you do a good job of balancing it in such a way so sometimes I'm crying and sometimes I want to squish their cheeks and tell them I hope it works out for you, you crazy kids.

Oh ho ho, the plot thickens. :D I'm excited. Also: working with cloth, you say? There's a tinker, tailor, soldier, spy joke in there somewhere.

I love this kind of thing, where Bucky can't change his situation so he has to find a way to own it, no matter how much pain and humiliation he has to overcome to do so. Actually, that's his entire storyline. What a survivor sorry I love Bucky <3

Don't worry about it, really. Drop in whenever, I always have tea on over my trash fire

Been really loving this! I'm really excited to see the bits of Bucky that he chooses to reveal to Steve -- when he lets Steve in and when he keeps Steve out.

And echoing other commenter re: Bucky and the importance of his CHOICE to share or not to share. Poor Bucky.

I still can't get over the fact that basically Bucky's only orgasmed once since the fall of HYDRA -- it must be frustrating that he's reliant on other people's dicks for sexual release.

You don't know how happy I was when I realized this beautiful fic had updated. It is always worth the wait.

The problem is that once they get their hands on each other they can’t stop. Or maybe it’s their saving grace. Either way, it’s how they get from a kiss in front of the mirror to grinding up against each other, Bucky’s left hand shoved down the back of Steve’s pants, dragging him closer, to Bucky hitching himself up onto the rim of the sink panting, “C’mon, don’t make me wait any longer.”

When he finally pushes into him, Bucky throws back his head and growls. Sweat coats every inch of his body. The lights around the mirror make him gleam. It’s as if his whole body is flexing as he takes Steve inch by torturous inch, the plates in his left arm rippling as they align and realign as he fucks himself up and down. Steve wants to drag him down onto the floor, pin him and bury himself so deep in Bucky’s body it’d feel like he’d never get free, fuck him until he stops biting his lip shut and Steve can hear how he really sounds, but instead he grabs onto Bucky’s hips to ground himself and follows the pace he sets, slow but brutally hard. The mirror rattles with every thrust. He can feel rivulets of sweat running down his own back, and when he catches a glimpse of his face over Bucky’s shoulder, he sees himself flushed down past his collarbone.

Bucky doesn’t make a noise when he orgasms – there’s a crack that must be his head hitting the mirror and he stripes come all the way up Steve’s chest. Steve doesn’t last much longer, Bucky’s heels digging into the small of his back, urging him on.

They finally pull apart, and a chunk of granite countertop falls away when Bucky lifts his left hand. They stare at it for a moment. Steve bursts out laughing before Bucky does and they fall back into each other’s arms, breathless.

“Oh hell, what am I going to tell our landlord?” Steve manages gets a handle on himself.

“What landlord? Do you even pay any rent?”

“Tony charged me a dollar for a hundred-year lease,” he admitted.

“Well, I don’t think you’re getting your security deposit back,” Bucky snorts into his neck. “Who’s gonna come in here except me? And if they do, just tell ‘em you slipped on the bathmat and hit your thick skull against it, everyone’ll believe that.” A moment later he pulls back. “Lemme out, I gotta take a shower.”

“Skip the shower, come to bed with me.” They don’t have anywhere they have to be tomorrow, unless Steve has a world emergency.

“Steve, I can’t go to bed like this, I feel like a whore.”

They both stiffened up at the same time, but just as Steve reached out Bucky pushed him away. Again. There was rock dust on the tops of his bare feet and he was still loose and sleepy-feeling the way he got after sex but Steve could feel a hard ball of dread forming in his stomach because this was all happening again.

“Is that really how you feel?”

“Don’t make a scene,” Bucky snaps, “Just get into bed and forget about it.”

“I don’t think I can – just look at me, please?”

“Why? So you can hear more about it?” Bucky’s voice is rising, getting out of control. “Why are you so fucking obsessed with making me talk about it? Does it get you hard? Do you get off on getting me naked and making me humiliate myself?”

Steve feels himself get hot, then cold, then – something else. “I don’t know how you can even say that,” he finally manages. Then, “You’re right, maybe I should go.” If he stays, it’s going to get ugly.

Steve’s through the door and into his bedroom when he turns around. “Sometimes,” he says, fighting very hard to keep his voice level, “I really wonder if you mean half of that shit you say.”

Bucky kicks the door shut in his face.

In the hallway he gets a glimpse of the couch through the living room door and pauses. Less than an hour ago they were sitting side-by-side, not really watching a documentary on TV, the way you used to have the radio on in the background, Steve sketching and Bucky reading one of his ridiculous novels. Bucky had fallen asleep slumped against his shoulder and Steve had quietly drunk in the feeling of him, warmth and weight and soft breath on his neck. He had surreptitiously reached over and laced his fingers through Bucky’s metal ones, run his thumb over the plates in the back of his hand. Now, he slips into Bucky’s bedroom. There’s an extra toothbrush next to the sink, just the way there’s an extra one and a little pile of black rubber bands next to his, and they’re near enough in size not to make a difference when it comes to drawstring pants. He tucks himself in under Bucky’s blue-gray covers and pulls an extra pillow on top of his head, breathing in the scent. Steve swallows until the lump in his throat goes away.

A/N: Sorry for the short update, but I hope not to make you wait so long until next time!

I DONT MIND THIS IS AMAZING SCREAMING SCREAMING FOREVER

Uaahhh feels feels feels

The contrast between seeing things work and then realizing they really don't, or not in the way you'd think they do - amazing gut punch material! <3

Honestly this thing is like 75% feels porn 25% porn porn for me.

I know, they're so close! They have so much going for them! But then unfortunately.... trash is forever.

(OP) Aw, I love these rollercoaster sex scenes. You emotional-whiplash me so good. I love their hot making-it-work sex and it was especially effective with the adorable banter (they're both such shits, especially Bucky with his "everyone'll believe that," omg I love them), and then -- well, I can't provide you with a series of emojis on here, but it would start with an angry face and end with crying. I feel bad for Bucky all the time, of course, but something about this fic makes me go POOR STEVE. Bucky's so guarded, and so ready to defend his fortifications, at the drop of a hat, with verbal acid -- okay I'm back to crying over him, there's something about characters who mess themselves up trying to protect themselves that gets me, this is such great characterization, but ANYWAY, STEVE -- and Steve just has no idea how to handle it.

I think it's really interesting character work; Steve has such willpower and he tends to bulldoze his way through problems, but he can't smash through the barbed wire surrounding Bucky without hurting him. It's the perfect terrible/great position to put him in. Steve just wants to talk it through and instead he keeps tripping Bucky's defense mechanisms. It's too sad to read about shit like Steve feeling dread the moment sex goes sideways, and Bucky kicking the door shut, and Steve sadly remembering affectionate snuggles, and falling asleep hugging something that smells like Bucky, like wtf? Why are you hurting my heart, I need it to live??

I will mention that I LOVE that Bucky feels dirty after sex. I am all about the complicated headspace you imply where he wants sex but sometimes it makes him feel the bad kind of nasty and it's tangled up with the interwoven aftereffects of his rapes and sometimes it seems like he wants to get those stories off his chest and other times he reacts like Steve is attacking him. It is so good. I love it so much.

It's really good until it's awful, isn't it? That warmth and passion is what's going to carry them through, but in the meantime..... The worst thing is that from Bucky's point of view, he let that slip because he was relaxed and happy and not watching what he said. The counterpart of that last scene is totally Bucky lying in Steve's bed going back and forth between beating himself up over getting careless and letting that slip because Steve isn't supposed to hear that shit and telling himself that look, Steve oughta know what he's getting into and it's not Bucky's fault if he can't handle it. It's possible that if that conversation had happened in the cold light of day when Bucky wasn't feeling emotionally and physically vulnerable it might have gone differently. But that would have required Steve just letting that comment slide and Steve is just not cut out to do that. It's not who he is.

As to what's going on in Bucky's head, well more about that later, but in short – vulnerability is scary, admitting that you were hurt and it's still fucking you up is scary, shame and desire are really powerful emotions. Why can't Steve just use him for sex and let him say degrading things about himself like normal people? And if Steve cares, does that mean that other people should have cared and didn't? Does mean they... could have not hurt him? Should have not hurt him? It's easier to pretend that it was right, and he wanted it, and Steve just has some kind of weird problem than to confront that.

~~You'll be fine without a heart, I lost mine a long time ago.~~

Why can't Steve just use him for sex and let him say degrading things about himselflike normal people?

*wounded noise* Everything about how thoroughly Bucky has normalized and internalized his abuse, and the worldview imparted thereof, is emotional catnip to me. And it's interesting; he knows it did hurt him and he doesn't want that kind of treatment anymore (like this, calling it humiliation, or when he steers Steve away from upsetting things in bed), but at the same time that's not enough to allow him to accept it was wrong.

Steve had thought they’d work their way up to the hard stuff over a few weeks or months. He would prove to Bucky over and over again that it was safe until at last Bucky opened up to him, or at least didn’t hit out when pressed. But he supposes they really aren’t cut out for taking it slow. Steve doesn’t feel angry by the time he storms into the living room. Instead it’s the same grim calm that takes over when a mission goes belly-up. They’re going to work this out. There’s simply no other option.

Bucky looks up from his novel, opens his mouth to says something and shut it when he sees Steve’s face.

Steve slams the handgun down on the coffee table and watches Bucky’s expression fly from shock, show a fleeting moment of what might be fear, and finally set in anger when he demands, “You went through my dresser?”

For one wild moment Steve considers saying yes just to see what would happen – would it be better or worse if he met Bucky’s expectations? – but this has to be about the truth. “No, you left your laundry in my room last night so I washed it with mine. I was trying to put your socks away.”

Bucky tosses his head back with an easy manner that Steve can see right through. “So what, you’re my parole officer now? ‘Cause nobody told me that there were any terms.”

“I don’t give a damn about the gun, keep it on your night stand for all I care. Buy twenty and hang them on your wall! What matters is I had no idea, and I live with you! I know you want your privacy. You want to keep what’s personal to yourself. And I’ve tried to understand that. But I live with you, I sleep with you, and you still won’t trust me with anything and it’s killing me, Bucky. Half the time I don’t know what you’re thinking, I don’t know what you’re feeling, I don’t even know what you do all day!”

“I can’t tell you that.”

Steve throws up his hands. “There’s the problem. Right there. All I’m asking is for one simple fact and even that’s too much.”

Bucky leans forward, and something earnest in his face catches Steve’s attention. “No, I mean I can’t tell you.” It takes Steve a moment to process the weight of his words.

“And I guess everything else is classified too, huh?” It’s a nasty jab and Steve knows it.

“You know what,” Bucky starts, voice raised and lip curled. Then Steve watches him gather himself, or maybe let go. The aggressiveness and the fake arrogance bleed away, and when he sits back in the chair he looks tired and a little nervous. “What do you want to know?” he asks more quietly.

“I just want to know that you trust me, Bucky. That I can trust you.”

“How can I prove that? What do you want me to do?” Bucky tugs nervously at the hem of his shirt, and Steve has just enough time to think Not some fucked-up sex thing before he asks “Do you want me on the table? Over your knee?” His eyes flick to the gun and Jesus Christ, Steve doesn’t even want to think about what that might mean.

“I want you,” Steve says firmly and clearly, “To talk to me. I want you to listen to what I say to you. And I want you to try and believe me.”

Bucky sounds half-way back to normal when he waves a hand at the couch. “Sit down, I’m gonna get a crick in my neck looking up at you.” They end up sitting kitty-corner to each other, close enough that their knees would bump if Steve moved forward, they could hold hands if – if they did that.

“I’m sorry about the gun,” Bucky says abruptly.

“The gun isn’t what matters. But thank you.”

“I don’t see why the other stuff matters, though. You really meant what you said the other night?” he demands. “It really doesn’t do anything for you? Because it would be okay if it did. You wouldn’t be the first one. I get it.”

“No you don’t.” This time Steve can’t keep his voice from rising. “I care about you. Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

“You can forgive me,” Bucky says venomously, “if I find it hard to believe that you’d get with someone who used to try and suck enough dick to earn the privilege of getting one up the ass if it didn’t turn your crank, not that you seem to mind the party tricks I picked up –”

“No,” Steve cuts him off, “You’re not going to do this. I am not going to play this game again. You’ll tell me I don’t want to hear about it and then you’ll kick it in my face. You want to know what I think? I think you’re scared. And you think if you can drive me away then you won’t have to think about it anymore. But you’re wrong, because you can’t keep secrets and lie to yourself forever and because I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me. So we might as well start talking. And since you asked,” he goes on, “Yes. I would. I don’t care about what anyone did to you. I don’t care what they made you do. I don’t care what you might’ve done yourself when you were in your right mind. I don’t even care about the sex, not if you wanted to stop. I care about you, Bucky. And I hope you care about me.”

There’s a long silence, then Bucky swallows and says, somewhat thickly, “My ma used to say that you’d argue with a locked door.” Steve just shrugs, because contrary to popular belief he won’t argue with anything that’s true. “I got one condition,” he goes on. “You don’t argue with me. I mean, if I use a word you don’t like or maybe I tell something like a joke, you don’t have to laugh but you do have to let me tell it.”

Steve opens his mouth to say I’m not gonna let you put yourself down like that, I’m not gonna let you tell it like it’s funny because it’s not funny. Instead he says, “I’ll try if you try.”

Bucky’s smile is a little weak, but it reaches his eyes. “Then I guess you’re stuck with me too.”

(OP)

YES. I LOVE THIS. It's so SATISFYING to have them finally lay their cards on the table -- and especially for Steve to find a way to negotiate past Bucky's bullshit, and for Bucky to actually let him. I was very proud of him in that moment where he sits back, consciously de-escalates, and lets go of his defensiveness. The description of him as tired and nervous after he lets the bravado fade saddened my heart.

But I live with you, I sleep with you, and you still won’t trust me with anything and it’s killing me, Bucky. Half the time I don’t know what you’re thinking, I don’t know what you’re feeling, I don’t even know what you do all day!”

YES!! Steve speaks words from my heart! SO SATISFYING. They're in such a difficult situation, and the character dynamics you've built up are so complicated -- I feel like I have cried about this before, but! they love and want each other enough to keep trying past the point the challenges would have defeated many people, and yet they also spend a lot of time self-sabotaging because of bad communication. Bucky is always ready to jump to the worst conclusion, then go on the attack. Which, alright, those are understandable trauma reactions (and, furthermore, characterization that slays me in wonderful ways), but then neither of them have any idea how to establish a framework where they can work through these problems together. As great as it's been to read the attempts they've made to patch shit up when it goes wrong -- the conversation where Bucky was cleaning the WS uniform comes to mind, or the one outside the shower door, or when Bucky thought Steve was making him beg, those were highlights -- I feel like this is the first time they've really talked about the heart of the problem. And, as aforementioned, after all those problems, IT WAS SO SATISFYING. I don't want to use the phrase "emotionally orgasmic" but... yeah, I'm gonna.

PLOT STUFF: BUCKY HAS A CLASSIFIED JOB????? WHAT IS HE DOING

Bucky tugs nervously at the hem of his shirt, and Steve has just enough time to think Not some fucked-up sex thing before he asks “Do you want me on the table? Over your knee?”

lmao I love this. Not just the fucked-up sex thing, but that Bucky's fucked-up sex things have reared their head so frequently that Steve's learned to see it coming. I read his little comment in such a world-weary tone. It's a kind of subtle awfulness when horror becomes commonplace!

Steve thinking about holding hands. Noooo, so sweet, no hand-holding was such a cruel thing for me to put in the prompt, I regret everything.

someone who used to try and suck enough dick to earn the privilege of getting one up the ass

I continue to adore each and every way Hydra exploited Bucky's broken dick to torture and humiliate him. It's all the emotional torment of being made to beg to come jacked up 1000x because that requires penetrative rape. Oh, poor Bucky. It just hits me sometimes that it's no surprise he's so angry and fucked up and defensive. But also: Bucky's disbelief that it doesn't turn Steve's crank when he talks about his abuse. It's like he knows I'm here... reading...

And you think if you can drive me away then you won’t have to think about it anymore.

So, we talked a little about Bucky as a recent escapee of a situation where sex was about use/abuse. And this line struck me in relation to that. He's got sexual trauma to wrestle with, years of horrible memories to fight down, a fucked-up worldview to unravel, and he doesn't yet recognize what happened to him as rape, though it seems that realization might be percolating in him. He has to think about all this whenever he has sex, and it's a lot to think about, and it must feel so, so scary. It would be a lot easier to just not have sex. Yeah, no wonder it seems sometimes like he's trying to drive Steve away.

"I'll try if you try" not even exaggerating: so romantic ;_;

I'm super glad it did what it needed to do! One of the complicated things about this Bucky is that when he can step back and take time to think he definitely is aware that his perceptions and expectations are warped, but then when emotions are running high and the chips are down he reverts to that warped worldview with added vicious defensiveness. But then when he has time to cool down he realizes that maybe he made a mistake. Rinse, repeat. Although this time he's able to break the cycle.

Yeah, like... Bucky keeps hitting out out of fear, which is completely understandable and not his fault but at the same time, Steve's only human, and this has been really hard for him too. Someone less bullheaded and tenacious might well have chosen to step back rather than go through that, and that would have been a reasonable decision TBH. I think on some level Steve needed some reassurance that Bucky loves him too in order to go on. (I don't like using the L word because it generally turns your fic into a soppy mess, but there you are). They've tried really hard, but neither of them really knows what they're doing – you'll notice in that shower door conversation, Bucky shuts it down by saying they'll talk about it later and then they never do.

WOULDN'T YOU AND STEVE LIKE TO KNOW

We and Steve and Bucky are all lucky he managed to avert going full-on fawn response there. (You said no? Is it because you want me to do something with the gun? I don't mind – I want to! I love it! Here, let me show you...)

If you think about it, they seem very physically comfortable with each other in TFA, it seems reasonable to extrapolate that they would do that kind of thing. Or at least would if it wasn't indelibly associated with power and control in Bucky's mind.

As we may already know I read that prompt and went "Did someone say degradation and mindgames?" ("I dunno Tom, I don't think he's demonstrated to us that he really wants it yet." The Winter Soldier, hands zip-tied behind his back just ro remind him of his place, tries to choke himself on his fourth cock of the night. Five minutes later, "All that just to take one up the ass. You must really need it, huh? Oh, what's that? You don't?" "I need it, sir."). I mean, he's looking at Steve and going "What's in it for you?" because the idea that Steve might want to hear this because he cares and wants to understand still hasn't sunk in. If he's not getting off on it, why won't he just drop the subject like Bucky tells him to? (Similarly to the scene where he can't quite figure out that Steve's fetish isn't doggy style or BDSM, it's mutually-pleasurable consensual sex).

Bucky needed to do what he had to to shut his human parts down and endure, and that included a lot of victim-blaming. Steve has in some ways the luxury of looking at this and going "This is just what evil men do with power." Bucky can't stop thinking there must be something more, and I think he still can't quite accept how bad it really was. He's okay (according to... himself) with the sex, but less so with the fact that Steve won't just shut up and let him not deal with anything. Hence his "You CARE about my FEELINGS? Fuck you!" attitude. But Steve isn't someone who just lets things alone, and we all know that even if he did that it would be fine until it was a disaster.

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 10/?

(Anonymous) - 2016-04-29 01:25 (UTC) - Expand

"if I use a word you don’t like or maybe I tell something like a joke, you don’t have to laugh but you do have to let me tell it.” Oh, baby

Setting us up for an uncomfortable "Whats the difference between humor as a coping mechanism and humor as denial" scene, perhaps.

Aw, hell. Bucky trying to solve things with sex will never not kill me. <3
Love how Steve finally digs his heels in.

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 10/?

(Anonymous) - 2016-04-28 03:11 (UTC) - Expand

oooo, I really like that Bucky is insisting that Steve accept his attempts to process his traumas as jokes. It must have been frustrating when he's just trying to get stuff off his chest and Steve's like "no that's wrong, you're wrong to feel that way."

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 10/?

(Anonymous) - 2016-04-28 03:18 (UTC) - Expand

Love this! Will there be more? ^^

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 10/?

(Anonymous) - 2016-05-19 15:33 (UTC) - Expand

Under him, Bucky tosses his head and shoves his hips up to meet Steve’s. His eyes are shut, his mouth hanging open, his left hand fisted in the pillow case while he jerks himself with his right, and when Steve thrusts into him he makes a desperate noise in the back of his throat. Steve works the angle of his hips, feels the clench and drag of Bucky around him. Bucky’s heel digs into small of his back, urging him on.

Bucky arches his back up and clasps a hand over his mouth when he comes, and the sight makes Steve even more determined to fuck him through every last moment of it. His own orgasm comes soon after, his hips stuttering before he buries himself deep inside Bucky and comes, hissing his name through clenched teeth.

Steve doesn’t mind Bucky getting up to wash after sex His own inclination is to lie there in the afterglow, lazy and stupid and indulgent, and he doesn’t care if he does it by himself or not. But after the water turns off he hears Bucky pad quickly, purposefully out of the room.

His first thought to himself is Go clean up your mess, Rogers, his second is to be ashamed of it.

He finds Bucky on the little balcony. At this height the wind must be criminal, but the glass walls and ceiling keep the wind out and the warmth in. There are big, year round plants that Steve doesn’t know the name of and some things that look like futuristic beach chairs.

Bucky is slouched in one of them. His eyes flick to Steve as he comes in and settles himself in the next one over, but he stays silent.

“Nice night,” Steve tires. He considers saying something dumb like Wow, the Chrysler Building sure looks great tonight, then bursts out with “Bucky, talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything at all. Come on, we said we wouldn’t play this game anymore.”

“If you think this is a game, then you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bucky shoots back heatedly.

“Why? Why don’t you tell me what that would look like?”

That gets a stony silence. Then Bucky bursts out with, “You want to know what I’d think if it was someone else? I’d think, that poor bastard. How’d he ever let himself get broken down like that.” He puts a hand up to his face, like he’s shielding himself from Steve or the other way around. “I wish I got to have some dignity. I wish you didn’t have to see me like this.”

“You talk like I’ve never talked about anything – anything hard with you. Do you remember the night after we buried my mom?” Bucky doesn’t say anything, but his shoulders stiffen so Steve presses on. “I don’t think I ever got that low, or that close to giving up.” He still feels a knot of sadness and shame when he thinks of it. He had turned away to wipe his eyes on the sleeve of his pajamas and suddenly he couldn’t stop crying, no matter how hard he balled up his face or held his breath. “You didn’t try and soft-soap me, you just stuck around and heard me out. Even when it was just nonsense and self-pity.” He had said “I’m gonna get sick and that’s gonna be it”over and over again, and the more he thought about it the surer it seemed, and he couldn’t stop. He was scared to be alone, scared for the future, scared that next time grit and determination wouldn’t be enough for him just like it hadn’t been enough for his mom. Bucky hadn’t moved his arm from around Steve’s shoulders, hadn’t said much except the occasional “You don’t know that,” hadn’t argued when Steve always came back with “I do.”

“Or the time we were living together and I got pneumonia. I’d cough so hard I threw up on myself, and you had to drag me to the bathroom. You think I had any dignity then?”

“Of course you did,” says Bucky from behind his hand.

“So give yourself the same courtesy. Or at least believe that I can.”

The ensuing silence is long enough for Steve to start thinking Great, and me left out here alone looking like a dope, when Bucky speaks.

"Let me tell you something. When you get out of cryo, you're lying there on a table or on the floor with IVs sticking everywhere an IV can go – arms, hands, neck, feet, the whole thing – and your brain feels like oatmeal. It's like when you wake up and you can think but you aren't really awake, so everything feels a little real and a little like a dream. That's when they get to work on you. They do the triggers and failsafes first. Mission objective and parameters. And then if they have someone good, they can make you think you're anyone, believe anything. It was mostly making sure I remembered my loyalty to Hydra and whatever value system they were using that week, the free world or the Warsaw Pact or whatever. And then sometimes they'd give me a cover. It’s in there so deep that no one can torture it out, because I’d believe it with every last cell in me. Every so often someone would figure out that they could get themselves a little something that way. You want a hellcat, a loving boyfriend, a blushing virgin in your bed three times a night? You got it." His mouth twists into a humorless smile. "They all thought they were so smart, too. Sure buddy, you're the first person to think of that one. You just keep telling yourself that. But yeah, half the time I really did want it. Or at least I thought I did. And then sometimes I was the only bargaining chip I had." At Steve's choked-off noise, Bucky shrugs. "It's not like I had any cigarettes to trade. The rest of it was just orders."

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 8/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 8/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 8/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 8/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 8/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 8/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 8/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 8/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 9/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 9/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 9/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 9/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 9/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 9/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 9/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 9/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 10/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 10/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 10/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 10/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 10/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 10/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 10/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 10/?

Re: Bucky can only come with penetration -- Smash All Your Mirrors, 11/?