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

[trashmod]

Unholy hell-miracle achieved! Welcome to Bad Guys Do Bad Things To Your Faves 2: Electric Boogaloo. AKA the seamy sexual-violence-and-violent-sex underbelly of Captain America fandom, AKA the Hydra Trash Party kinkmeme. As usual, BLANKET NON-CON AND NSFW WARNINGS apply: just assume going in that everything in this landfill is unfit for human consumption.

Rules in brief: don't be a jerk except to fictional characters, warnings for particularly fucked-up garbage are nice but not required, thou shalt not judge the trashiness of thy neighbor's kinks unless thy neighbor is trying to pass off their rotting banana peels and half-eaten pizza crusts as a healthy romantic dinner for two, off-topic comments may be chucked out of the dumpster at management's discretion, management's discretion decrees that omegaverse, soulbond AUs, D/s-verse, non-superpowered AUs, and dark!good guys AUs are off-topic.

[Round 1] [Fill post] [Chatter post] [hydratrashmeme Pinboard archive (maintained by greenkirtle)] [Round 2 in flat view (comments in non-threaded chronological order, most recent last)]

Round 2 is closed; comments and fills in existing threads are still welcome, but all new prompts go to Round 3.

Comments

Fill: Wipes

[(Anonymous)]

[Am I aware of the fact that this prompt is almost six years old & it’s very likely that no one is ever going to read this fill? Yes. Did I write it anyway? Also yes.
What also really got me about the video was the “You see? Everything’s wiped away” at the end, so please enjoy this small piece of Alexander Pierce wiping away Bucky’s eyeliner & … things that are not eyeliner.]


The man has a warm face.

You’re not allowed to touch things without permission, and you’ll certainly never be allowed to touch anyone’s face, but you can see it. You can feel the warmth flowing from his eyes right into your stomach, spreading through your body.

The man is very new to this; you don’t even need to look at his uniform to know. You can tell by the way he’s approaching you when the commander shouts, “Get that shit off his face, Pierce” – he’s not shy or frightened, but careful. Respectful. You can tell by the way he says, “Hold still, I’m going to take off the mask”, before he reaches for your neck. You can tell by the way he clumsily opens the clasp and carefully removes the muzzle, his eyes lingering on your face for a little too long. Like the eyes of someone who has never seen it before.

Then he grabs a cloth and says, “Close your eyes”, before he starts wiping away the black paint from your eyelids. He’s gentle, unlike the commander who always makes it feel like he’s trying to rub off your skin or squeeze your eyes right into your skull. This is different. Suddenly there’s a fuzzy feeling in your chest, and you can barely breathe.

“You see? Everything’s wiped away”, he says.

His voice is so different from everything you ever hear, so soft and friendly and --- and then the commander snaps, “Finally!”, and drags you away from him.

The man comes back. You learn that his name is Alexander. He’s always there after battle, always gently removing your muzzle and wiping away the black paint from your eyes. You don’t know anything else about him. You just know that your nerves are fluttering in strange ways whenever he touches your face or runs his fingers through your hair. You’re ashamed of how weak you feel when that happens, but you find yourself almost leaning into the touch. These moments are always brief, painfully brief, and you just want to ask him for more, but you’re not allowed to talk outside of combat. And he never joins you in combat.

Your encounters blur into one; you don’t know when he started calling you dear heart, you only know that the pet name makes your heart beat faster.

He’s moving up the ranks, his gestures become more confident, but his touches are still gentle. He casually puts a hand around your neck when he wipes the paint off your face, and you almost expect him to squeeze, but he doesn’t. His warm hand just lingers there, and you can feel another strange sensation creeping right into your skin.

You wish he would stay with you.

*

You’re kneeling on the floor, a bitter taste in your mouth. This doesn’t feel right. And that’s confusing, because you’re not hurt, you’re not bleeding, and still you feel like someone just kicked you in the guts. Alexander – you remember his name – is zipping up his fly as he looks down on you, smiling. Your face feels like it’s been set on fire, and you also feel something running down your chin. He pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and gently starts wiping it off while stroking your hair. There is still warmth in his eyes, but now that you are alone, no commander and no handlers and no agents watching you, it feels different. Cornered. You feel cornered.

The thought of running away only ever briefly touches the outer edges of your mind, because you know that you can’t. You won’t. This is your place. This is where you belong. Even if it feels wrong. Even if this is not what you were trained for. Even if it’s making you sick.

He folds the handkerchief neatly and smiles again. “You see? Everything’s wiped away.”

You don’t know why you’re crying. But maybe that’s what you’re supposed to do, because he doesn’t command you to stop. He watches you, with the same patient eyes that have also seen you in battle, in prep, in cryostasis.

You lower your eyes in shame.

*

The room is darkened. You see a man. He is wearing a grey suit. You do not know him. You do not know the meaning of his presence.

You’re sitting in a chair. There is a strange sensation in your left arm.

The man smiles. “You see? Everything’s wiped away.”

Re: Fill: Wipes

[(Anonymous)]

Beautifully done! Its great to see some of these older prompts being filled.