hydratrashmeme | Dumpster #3: The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

Dumpster #3: The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

Holy shitballs, look at us go. Welcome to Captain America fandom's resident wretched hive of scum and villainy: ROUND THREE. AKA Bad Guys Do Dirtybadwrong Things To Your Faves, 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 3 is closed; comments and fills in existing threads are still welcome, but all new prompts go to Round 4.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Fuck! FUCK/i>! Thank you, better comment later but this! is fantastic!

Hydra tortures someone by making the Asset swallow them and letting them be slowly, painfully digested alive in him. Them they are reformed and either tortured this way again or made to think it didn't happen.
The Soldier does not enjoy it, he hates the stretch of his stomach and the ways his prey thrashes and screams and the knowledge that he's doing that to a person and can't stop it. Bonus if Brock fucks Winter while groping that huge shapeless gut.

(OP here)
Same! I wish there was more written for it, but at least what we have now is all pretty quality stuff, wouldn't you say?

I love this! Rumlow's matter-of-fact tone is so great. I love how he downplays his own trauma without dismissing it: he acknowledges what happened to him and how much it sucks, but doesn't wallow in it or whine about it. <3

Hey there OP, what a lovely prompt! A few quick questions from a potential filler, if you don't mind? First, how would you feel about an aftermath angle, albeit one that heavily references Hydra-era torture/punishment as requested? (If the answer is keep your damn aftermath feels to yourself, that's fine!) Second, would you like to see Bucky get unfucked in this regard, or is it cool if he's stuck this way?

(not OP)
It would be really interesting to see how this fucks up Bucky's relationships in the future. Imagine someone (coughstevecough) who wants to hold hands, and pet Bucky's hair, and can't, and how they navigate this.

(possible filler) Yeah, that's just what I was thinking. ;) ALSO how interesting the other side of the coin would be: Bucky experiencing noxious stimulus as intensely pleasurable.

Sorry, I should clarify: how interesting it would be for STEVE (or Bucky's eventual partner in any consensual sexual/intimate relationship). There is already a glorious fill exploring this aspect during Bucky's captivity, http://hydratrashmeme.dreamwidth.org/1634.html?thread=4424034#cmt4424034.

This was so great!! Your Rumlow voice is so perfect--he's not a good guy, but not a bad guy either. And I love the balance you struck between him being okay-yet-not-okay with the rapes. Thanks for this!!

I'm the OP and I'm back from work now so I can leave a better comment and just mostly say THANK YOU because this was great of you to write overall, but especially:
When Sam mouths "no" at Rumlow like he has a say in this?? like they're in this together, which they actually are way more than he realizes yet, and also so totally aren't, this is a guy who was just thinking "eh I'd totally let them torture you the normal way."
When this sentence happens: Okay, the disgust from Sam is a little harder to stomach than he thought it would be.
When Rumlow uses the "wasn't personal" thing, because that's... perfect... the exact same logic that lets him turn on Steve without batting an eye lets him throw himself on the sword for Sam.
Honestly every time Sam is probably trying to show sympathy through the shock and confusion and Rumlow reads it as disgust with him personally for this having happened to him.

This is great and you're great <3

[THANK YOU FOR YOUR GOOD & KIND COMMENTS, I love them & wanted to have another part ready when I responded and then a lot of life happened but… here is this.]

Sam started to think he’d been wrong about Steve only after they’d checked into a tiny hotel in a foreign country and he’d found out he was homeless. Not a great time to re-evaluate just who he was dating.

Steve hovered over the bill at the front desk, asking the clerk questions in Spanish every so often. Sam hadn’t realized Steve spoke Spanish, but on top of French and German and in a super-powered brain, he guessed it made sense. Sam, for his part, didn’t speak Spanish, but he was fluent in social queues, and he got the sense Steve was annoying the crap out of the clerk.

“Hey,” he said, voice low, “do you want me to kick in here?”

“What?” Steve laughed. “No, I got it. Just want to make sure they’re not—that everything checks out.”

It wasn’t until they were halfway down the hall that Sam started replaying that moment in his head, trying to get rid of the crawling suspicion that Steve had meant less “they, the people running this shady-looking hotel” and more “they, the Mexican people running this hotel.” Steve was a white guy who’d grown up in the 30’s; it wouldn’t be the first time he’d fucked up. Telling him he’d fucked up was always a chore; he came around every time, but he was too used to having the moral high ground to be graceful about losing it. This still didn’t feel like one of Steve’s ordinary fuckups—felt too obviously mean—which was what made Sam second-guess himself.

The hotel might have been tiny and unobtrusively named—Sam hadn’t seen a sign anywhere and still wasn’t sure what it was called—but it did have a view. They could have climbed out the window straight onto the beach, a spray of white sand sweeping down to a turquoise bay.

“Told you it’d be worth the drive,” Steve said, tossing their bags on the carpet and already tugging Sam’s shirt loose from his belt.

“Hey, hey, not happening, after the last couple times?” Sam backed up. “You can submit your plans and intentions in writing first.”

Steve gave him the weirdest look, like Sam was not only talking nonsense but trying Steve’s patience doing it. “It’s a romantic vacation,” he said.

“Then you can romantically follow me to the beach, if you want, and when we have sex, later, you can romantically ask me before you do any odd shit.” Sam slid his own shirt off, but only because he was going to change into his swim trunks. It had been a hell of a drive, on top of the flight, and he was about to go risk getting stung by every jellyfish out there if it meant working the kinks loose. “How did you know about this place?”

Steve didn’t answer, for long enough that Sam turned back to see what was up. “Kinda went all over with SHIELD,” Steve said finally. “Come here.”

Sam snapped the waistband of his swim trunks into place and did. The carpet felt grimy under his feet and he was beyond ready to get on the sand. Steve, still fully clothed and stinking faintly of gasoline and tarmac, wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist and leaned into him. The buttons on his shirt bit into Sam’s chest. He nuzzled his pointy white boy nose into Sam’s neck, even though Sam had to smell just as bad as he did.

“You know what, I do have something to submit in writing,” Steve said. He dragged his fingers down Sam’s back. “For later.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Could we—” Steve puffed hot air into the crook of Sam’s neck, laughing at himself. “It’s odd shit.”

“If you ask me first, I’m probably up for it.” It was too strange a week for Sam to be terrifically enthused, but he should be proud Steve was asking verbally instead of resorting to the elaborate borderline pantomimes he usually fell back on rather than just say he wanted to get spanked or whatever.

“We’ve done roleplay,” Steve said, pressing his thumbs in at the dimples above Sam’s ass.

“I guess,” Sam said, frowning. A little, technically, a while back.

“I’d like… that.” Steve walked Sam backward to the bed and laid him on it. He pushed Sam’s wrist into the mattress. “Try to pull away.”

Sam did, briefly. About a half a tug was all it took to tell Steve wasn’t using his “pretending to be normal out of fairness” strength. Sam wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’d like that,” Steve said, hard against Sam’s hip.

So they were back to pantomime, which was almost comforting. Sam was at least used to working out clues like this. He just didn’t usually arrive at… “You want to—pretend to force me?” he said. It sounded stupid, both because he’d tried to find a better word than ”rape” and ended up sounding Victorian, and because the idea of Steve raping anyone was ridiculous.

“Yeah,” Steve said, grinding into him a little.

Sam laughed, incredulous, and bit it back quickly. “I, uh, can’t promise I’m the best actor in the world, but we could try it, as long as there’s not too much name-calling. What were you thinking we’d roleplay? Strangers at a bar? I’m telling you now, your character motivation includes a burning need for lube and prep, because we’re not doing without either of those again.”

Steve let up on his wrist and sat back on Sam’s thighs. “We’re… us. I’m Steve.”

Sam frowned, trying to picture it. His stomach tipped a bit. Steve as Steve holding him down—which he could do—no.

He tried to escape the nagging feeling that before this week, the scenario would have been so laughable it wouldn’t have bothered him. They’d had some bad sex recently, was all. It wasn’t a big deal. It didn’t matter.

“Sorry, man, no go,” he said. “We’ve got to stray a little farther afield.”

Steve gave him a blank look, like he didn’t know how to respond to that, but then he grinned. “Superheroes,” he said. “You, anyway. You be, I don’t know, the Hawk. I’ll be a supervillain.”

Sam laughed, grateful for the sensation, knots loosened all over his body. “You’re killing me,” he said. “‘You won’t get away with this, the planet Earth will never submit for your rule,’ that’s what you’re asking for? Because you know that’s about as deep as my dialogue’s getting.”

Steve scoffed. “I’m not gonna rule the planet. I’ve got better standards than a guy with horns on his helmet.” He tapped Sam’s lips. “I could gag you.”

“You might have to, unless you want to hear about how you might take my body but you’ll never take America. Later.” He slapped Steve’s thigh. “I’m still swimming first. And not the Hawk, you’ll make me think about Clint. I could never look him in the face again. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“If I’m… some bird of prey… who’re you?”

Steve grinned, the wide-stretched one that looked wrong his face. “I never got a chance to use it, but I’ve always kind of wanted to be Crossbones.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “If you say anything about shivered timbers—”

“It’s not nautical.” He sounded insulted.

“If you say so, Crossbones.”

Sam’s phone rang. Actually rang, not just a text, which was rare unless it was work.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Steve said. “When’d you turn it back on?”

“I didn’t make a note of the time,” Sam said, twisting to dig through the pockets of the jeans he’d thrown on the bed.

“I got it,” Steve said, and hitched Sam over with one hand, which, outside of the context of sex or an injury, was just a fucking bizarre thing to have happen. “If the VA is gonna collapse because you left for one day—”

“Steve, I swear to God,” Sam said, grabbing for the phone, because no way in hell was he the guy whose boyfriend answered his phone for him when work called.

“Bucky,” Steve said.

That was different. Sam wasn’t playing go-between for those two. He let his hand drop as Steve went right ahead and answered. Steve was still crouched over him, and cell phones being what they were, Sam could hear perfectly when Bucky said in a rush, “Sam, are you okay?”

“Sam’s fine,” Steve said, jostling Sam a little beneath him. “We’re on vacation, remember? He’s only in danger of dehydration from all the booze we’re about to drink.”

Sam rolled out from under Steve and climbed off the bed. If they’d finish their fight up, great. He didn’t want to hear every bit of it. Steve held a finger up, wait. Bucky hadn’t said anything yet. When he did, Sam could still hear it. “Steve, good. Natasha’s trying to call you. Sam’s there, though. He’s with you.”

“Sure he is. I’ve got him.”

“Good.” Bucky sounded stilted even for him. “The thing is, you guys might want to come back. Sam’s house blew up.”

Sam snatched the phone from Steve. “Tell me you didn’t just say my house blew up.”

“Sam.” Bucky said it on an exhale. “You’re okay.”

“Yeah, we established that. Is my house okay? How blown up are we talking here?” He fought to catch his breath. His head spun a little, just enough to keep him from remembering if he’d ever gotten his photos of Riley on leave from his mom’s place. If they were at his house…

“Uh, very. I didn’t get… a great look. It blew up with me inside, so I had to… you know. Leave. And not get charged with blowing it up.” He paused. “I didn’t, so you know.”

“Holy shit.” Sam sank back onto the bed. “Are you hurt? The neighbors?”

“Everyone’s fine. It’s just important you guys come home. Natasha says so too. And Fury. This was… targeted. You’re not safe.”

“Fuck that,” Steve said. Sam guessed that with super hearing, this conversation was downright loud. Steve raised his voice in the general direction of the phone. “We’re not coming back if Sam’s being targeted. That’s just what they’d want.”

“Steve. We sure as shit are! I just lost everything but my passport, some jeans, and a bathing suit—I’ve got to get back there and start wrestling with the insurance company. Christ, if they know where I live, they could know where my family lives…”

“Fury can take care of that.”

“Sam,” Bucky said, oddly subdued. “Where exactly are you guys—”

“No,” Steve said. “That’s final. They got that close? They were in your house? You’re not going back there. Bucky, you and Natasha and Fury work it out. Sam’s safest away from that. He’s got Captain America to protect him.”

Steve was using a snapping “captain’s orders” voice on a level Sam hadn’t seen from him except with Tony. “We’ll call you back,” he settled on saying to Bucky.

“Careful,” Bucky said, voice strained.

“Yeah, I sure will be.” Sam hung up and turned his attention to Steve. “What the hell kind of bullshit was that?”

Steve, who ordinarily got mad right back or went way over into apologetic, looked sort of amused. “Well, you’re not running back into a burning building on my watch.”

“Running back into burning buildings is what we do for a living, man. And this isn’t even about that, this isn’t some Avengers mission. This is my life. My papers, my mortgage, my gran’s quilts, my dad’s wedding ring. You make the calls in a fight, but this isn’t—”

“It is,” Steve said. “You’re being attacked, it’s a fight. I’m making the call.”

Sam had had fights with Steve. This wasn’t how they worked. Steve could be infuriating—he could sound condescending when he didn’t mean it, he hated admitting he was wrong, and okay, he didn’t always have the firmest grasp of where his authority in the field ended. But when Sam snapped at him, he yelled back, and they shouted it out. Right now, Steve was totally, coldly calm. Sam paused, disoriented.

“We’re going to switch hotels,” Steve said. The over-enunciation was back. It added to the overall chilly thing he had going on. “Anyone could have traced that call. We’re getting rid of our phones. I’ll get a burner. When Romanoff or Fury tells me they’ve caught whoever did this, we’ll go back. That’s the call.” His face went slack and then pulled into a softer expression. “I can’t lose you,” he said.

Sam inhaled and held it, trying to match Steve’s calm. “And even if we actually knew this was about me, and not a random ‘blow up an Avenger’ thing, I can’t lose everything I own without at least… seeing what I can save. You don’t have to come with, but I’m going back.”

“Other people can go through your stuff. You’re not thinking straight.”

“Fine, so I’m not thinking straight. I’m still making a decision.”

“I can’t let you,” Steve said regretfully. He sounded beyond condescending, sounded… older than he was. Softening again, he grabbed Sam’s hand. “At least let’s think about it overnight, okay? Humor me. Switch hotels, go for a swim. If you still think it’s the best idea tomorrow, we’ll go back.”

“How about you humor me,” Sam said, “since my house is the one that got blown up.”

Steve sighed. He swiped a hand back and forth over his jaw. “No,” he said. “Not tonight. Come on, are you going to leave me here without a car? It’s just stuff, Sam, I’ll buy you more stuff. You’re safe, that’s what matters.”

And it was then, finally, that Sam started to feel like he was wrong about Steve. He knew Steve could be stubborn, and so high-minded it was tough to swallow, and that he’d lost more than a house so maybe he was having trouble adjusting his scale of relative loss. But he’d never known Steve to be callous, and this… was, the platitudes about safety ringing hollow. So maybe this was Steve and he’d been missing it.

Which was exactly why he caved. He couldn’t have thought it through in exactly these terms at the time, not on one fight and some vague suspicions and an upset rumble in the back of his head, but if Steve could shrug off something that hurt Sam this much, then this relationship wasn’t going to last all that much longer. And if it wasn’t going to last all that much longer, Sam wanted to make the best of what they had left.

In the moment, mostly he knew that he couldn’t handle going back to face the fact that he didn’t have a home and keep fighting with his boyfriend. Something had to give, and it had been a long day of travel already.

“Fine,” he said. His second theory twisted deep in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t really know Steve, not like he thought. Or it was just this crazy week, the fight with Bucky, and Steve would apologize tomorrow. He wasn't thinking straight. “One more night.”

“There you go,” Steve said. He tugged Sam’s chin down so he could kiss his temple. “I got you.”

Aaahhhhhh! *squeals in delicious terror and hides under the bed* I've been on the edge of my seat hoping for more of this, and you just keep making it better/scarier! Sam's trying so hard to be rational, to think clearly, and at the same time he can feel it going wrong wrong WRONG. I am so frightened (read: breathless with sordid anticipation) for their "roleplay" scene.

This was so good I read it very slowly so I could savor every word

(OP) Omg. I very, very, very much approve of all of the above and I am overjoyed at the prospect of such a fill!

I am holding you entirely responsible for the fact that I now have yet another bizarre kink I can't let anyone know about because it will damage my reputation. :P

Inspired partly by the hailhydrabook.tumblr.com posts.

Pierce introduces the Asset to Brock Rumlow and Jack Rollins. The Asset is like an overgrown vaguely murderous toddler that needs constant supervision and instruction. It reminds both Brock and Jack of distant toddler cousins who are too cute.

Because both Brock and Jack are too fucked up for words, they decide to baby the Asset, pretty it up, give it good food, and generally treat it like their beautiful toddler assassin boy.

Do they use it for sex? Sure! But they get off on fucking the Asset after missions, going "who's a good boy? yeah? who's my good little murderpet?", giving the Asset dozens and dozens of mind blowing orgasms so that it comes to associate good feelings with a mission well done.

The Asset takes to following them around between missions, begging for scraps and affection. Pierce wanted to say something but the 110% success rate is pretty impressive so he just lets them be. Let's face it, Jack and Brock get off on the fact that such a powerful weapon is under their thumbs, and perfectly willing.

The Asset for the most part, loves being their murderpet. His previous handlers were never so nice to him! The others never let him cum! But Daddy Jack and Papa Brock do! And they feed him, and let him play with guns, and stay out of the chair, and sleep in a bed, and have more orgasms, and sometimes they force him to cum over and over and over and over again until it hurts but it feels good at the same time!

Fastfoward someone tries to 'rescue' the Asset only to find that Lil Miss Murder McMurderface does not want to leave his daddy and his papa.

Bonus if Daddy and Papa bust in to bust the Asset out, then reassure him by double teaming his sweet ass until he's all orgasmed out and can't do anything but lie there and take it.

Note: Brock and Jack are fucked up. Just that they have their own lil fucked up family of 2 daddies and 1 little murderpet.

I love this so, so, so, so much. It is so scary and perfect. And you made it so believable when Sam caves precisely BECAUSE Rumlow is doing such a bad job playing Steve--that was quite a thing to pull off!

The Asset is used for sex only by a very select few of HYDRA's most elite. Pierce would be perfect here, but I'm not picky.

A low level HYDRA employee accidentally finds themself privy to one of their little trash sessions - for whatever reason, they end up stuck in the room where it happens with no choice but to hide until it's over.

The more mundane this person is the better: nerdy IT guy, nervous young secretary, night janitor, whatever. They've barely even seen the Asset before - they know it exists, of course, but they don't work directly with it - let alone could ever have possibly imagined any such arrangement. They've probably never had much interaction with Pierce/whoever either. Needless to say, they're scared shitless all around.

I'm all about their horrified outsider perspective on the whole thing - maybe not totally understanding what's happening at first, then having a moral panic because, wait a minute, none of this is safe, sane, or consensual in any capacity and why do I work here, again? Then becoming shamefully turned on as it continues - bonus points for them touching themself.

Up to you what happens if/when they get caught (and how.) Would be overjoyed with them getting the trash treatment themself (from the Asset, directed by Pierce?) or being otherwise intimidated/fucked up.

holy shit, that last bonus!

i'm just picturing little natasha playing that way with Bucky... omg just imagine all the delicious guilt and shame if/when they start to realize who the other is in a post catws scenario

I have an idea for an A/B/O-inspired 'verse which probably needs a different name. I think of it as the Liege and Guardian 'verse. In it, the omega/uke type is the socially dominant one; the alpha/seme type is bound by magic or simple loyalty to protect theirs, giving up all rights and independence to serve them, protecting them with their life, often muzzled or blindfolded till they're needed. I mentioned this to a friend and they came up with:

"So, yannow how military & police dogs are impeccabily trained and only follow their handler's commands, ever?

PreSerum!Steve was Bucky's omega, and Hydra forcibly transferred that loyalty (who didn't look at that mask and think "muzzle" I mean come on) to whoever they wanted. On top of the fact that Steve is now somehow built like an alpha?

So much delicious emotional torment."

Sorry buddy abo is off topic

On its highest setting, Rumlow's stun baton can stop a horse's heart. On its lowest setting--especially for internal use--it makes a very effective violet wand.
(For those unfamiliar: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Violet_wand (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Violet_wand))

Rumlow amuses himself with the Winter Soldier while on mission, starting on the lowest setting and gradually cranking it up until the asset is ready to beg (in whatever capacity) for the reprieve of Rumlow's cock.

FRICKEN YES

That's sweet. Disturbing, but sweet.

I was thinking of a memory-transfering monster with electric eel type tentacles so if you don’t mind tentacle porn in your fill, I’m waiting for the go-ahead to fill this.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 190 of 215

Dumpster #3: The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

Re: Better me.

WS/Any, Vore +Reformation +Body Horror

no subject

Re: Better me.

Re: Pleasure is pain

Re: Pleasure is pain

Re: Pleasure is pain

Re: Pleasure is pain

Re: Better me.

Re: Better me.

bodyswap trash fill 3/5?

Re: bodyswap trash fill 3/5?

Re: bodyswap trash fill 3/5?

Re: Pleasure is pain

Re: WS/Any, Vore +Reformation +Body Horror

Brock/Bucky/Jack DD/LG

Re: bodyswap trash fill 3/5?

Accidental trash voyeurism from lowly outsider

Re: Red Room/WS Age-play

(frozen comment) Steve/Bucky + HYDRA, A/B/O variation, petplay.

(frozen comment) Re: Steve/Bucky + HYDRA, A/B/O variation, petplay.

E-stim, Rumlow/WS

Re: E-stim, Rumlow/WS

Re: Brock/Bucky/Jack DD/LG

Re: memories can be a problem if they're the wrong person's