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

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.

Yes, it was about time!

I'm glad you enjoyed it.

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."

I have a lot of empathy for both of them. On one hand, Bucky's fighting to feel in control, to be able to have things and talk about his experiences on his own terms. On the other, for Steve that could mean choking back his own reaction that it wasn't funny, it was terrible and wrong and shouldn't have happened.

Love this! Will there be more? ^^

There will be! I'm an extremely slow writer (as you might see by the timestamps ^^;) and am filling something in the spoiler post right now, but hope to have an update soon.

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."

A/N: I know I'm not the fastest writer and that this story has been inching along for a very long time, and I want to take the opportunity to thank everybody who has been willing to stick with it. I am so, so grateful for your patience and your support and I love you all.

TL;DR – group hug in this trash pile!

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

(Anonymous) - 2016-07-10 03:08 (UTC) - Expand

*rolls around on the floor*

Thanks for updating! <3

The best thing about these slow updates is that I get to re-read the whole thing every time! :D

And -- oh man, so many lovely painful moments here -- I don't think I've ever read such a good Steve-coping-with-mom's-death bit. And noncon sex being Bucky's only bargaining chip... *cries sad trashy tears*

A!a, you did it again! Every new chapter of this is an absolute treat (I've read this update a number of times already) and this remains one of my favorite stories in the dumpster. *continues to camp out here for the foreseeable future*

(OP)

Loved this update :D

1. The sex scene was smoking hot. Back arching! Bucky with his heels digging in! Shoving his hips up! ALL VERY, VERY GOOD STUFF

2. And actually the sex being so hot and successful makes the downswing that follows even sadder? Like, with all the other attempts at sex that went wrong during or after, there's an obvious cause. There's always a moment that sets Bucky off. Here, though, it all works out fine, and still Bucky has to go off and brood about how humiliated, broken, and undignified he is. There's nothing undignified about what just happened, but sex -- or at least being fucked -- is so indelibly associated with humiliation for him that he can't see that. It's so sad and it's a deeper, longer-lasting problem that Steve's learning curve on where not to touch and what not to say. There's no easy fix here.

3. Also that they're getting better at communication but they still have to work at it. <3 No easy fixes.

4. It is extremely telling about Steve that he thinks having cried after his mom died was a serious indignity -- comparable to the indignity Bucky feels now. I have been known to cry because I got a bad haircut. What the fuck, Steve.

5. I will repeat for this venue: I love how thoroughly you've fucked Bucky over. If he'd just been subjected to repeated command rapes, your good old-fashioned trash party, then he'd come out with a handsome array of deep-seated issues. But that was not enough! He also traded sex for favors, so on top of learning that essentially sex is torture, he gets to learn that his body is a thing to be bartered. But because these two things together haven't yet totally destroyed his sexuality, you also threw in the violation of his mind; they were able to trick and manipulate integral parts of him, his emotions, his perceptions; it's a miracle he's been able to trust and pursue his own desire to the extent that he has (and I wonder how long it took). You haven't left a single square of solid ground for him to stand on.

6. "It's not like I had any cigarettes to trade." I LOVE THIS LINE not only because it speaks to the forced commodification of Bucky's body, but also because I am a sucker for anything hints at how truly devastated and dehumanized he was. Even prisoners have cigarettes. Bucky, on the other hand, had no possessions -- or money, or friends, or memories, or choices in anything from whether he killed to how he wore his hair or when he slept. All these little details that fill out the picture of how controlled and empty his life was keep my black heart beating. My Bucky Barnes Problem is... ongoing.

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, 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/?

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

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

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

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

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