Dumpster #3: The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

[trashmod]

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.

[Round 1] [Round 2] [Fill post] [Chatter post] [hydratrashmeme Pinboard archive (maintained by greenkirtle)] [Round 3 in flat view (comments in non-threaded chronological order, most recent last)]

Round 3 is closed; comments and fills in existing threads are still welcome, but all new prompts go to Round 4.

Comments

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

[(Anonymous)]

Let's say Hydra has a pseudoscience device that can download memories from one mind to another. Let's also say that Steve has a mishap with this device and gets a ton of memories from a Hydra agent (imo Rumlow would be the most interesting but I'm flexible).

Included in the download is many memories of the agent raping Bucky.

+ this really fucks Steve up and makes it hard to be around Bucky

+ this really fucks Bucky up once he learns about it

+ it fucks their sex life up

+ there are some small but noticeable changes in Steve's behavior and mannerisms, since the agent's personality is inside him now

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

[(Anonymous)]

-hyperventilating-

Steve “double dog dare”Rodgers

[(Anonymous)]

Steve “double dog dare”Rodgers



I need more bottom steve!trash in my life. Anything involving:

-anal speculums (see: ass gapes)
-dental gags (for maximum face-fuckage)
-nipple clamps
-bloodplay / blood as lube (alternatively: no lube, Steve starts bleeding rectally, and they carry on fucking him like its totally normal..."Hey, guess we popped your cherry, huh, Cap?")
-face slapping/verbal humiliation
-object insertion ("Hey Rumlow, think my Thermos could fit in his ass?")
-fisting (see also: blood as lube)
-colon snake aka really thick, long dildos (Steve can practically feel it poking at his stomach)
-gunplay (He doesn't /think/ the guns are actually loaded...)
-hair-pulling (see: facefucking)

Bonus round:

-the "double dog dare" component, in which somehow all of these sexual shenanigans are "consensual" (fucktons of gaslighting), and Steve just goes with it, because hell no, he is not backing down from a challenge, and plus, Rumlow keeps insisting that this is a great team bonding exercise.
-involuntary crying (because it's either too much and the pressure of being so full is overwhelming, or if he's just a crier in bed, or if there really isn't enough lube on that beer bottle they're trying to stick in him and it hurts like a bitch, or if one of the agents treated him real nice and got him off, because they hadn't let him come for hours
-whimpering/trembling/other embarrassing body reactions that he can't control
-ALL the bonus points if the gangbangs are basically Steve's first foray(s) into sex. When he really "makes love" (to Bucky or Sam?) for the first time, he's shocked that pleasure doesn't have to come with pain (cue general heartbreak and "Oh Steve….)

Re: Steve “double dog dare”Rodgers

[(Anonymous)]

Yes, please. All of this.

Cap/Winter Soldier... plus Sharon Carter (voyeurism, of a sort)

[(Anonymous)]

Agent 13, living across the hallway, low-key thinks Steve is fine af in the same way most of humanity does. But he keeps himself to himself and, if he's got a special someone he's nailing on the regular (or the other way around), she never hears or sees any evidence.
(Which is kind of a shame, when she thinks about it....)

Pre-Cap 2 - or at least before the scene with Fury - the Winter Soldier breaks into Steve's apartment and brutally fucks him against the wall/floor/wherever your trash-filled heart desires. It's entirely non-consensual, but Steve can't help the sounds the super-assassin wrings out of him.
And Sharon, because thin walls, can't help but hear it.
And can't help but stick her hand down her pants and get off to such filthy-hot noises.
(she doesn't know what's actually happening the entire time, and thinks Steve has finally brought a partner home for some mutual fun)

(bury me in the trash heap)

Rumlow/Sam, other/Rumlow, Rumlow to the "rescue"

[(Anonymous)]

Okay, I tried to get over this, but I guess I can’t. I really do want it. This prompt, but specifically with Rumlow and Sam. [http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/19994.html?thread=47377946#t47377946]

~In a world~ where Rumlow and Sam have been fighting on a regular enough basis to be nemeses, they both get captured by an even bigger bad. Even bigger bad goes to rape Sam. Rumlow intervenes by way of offering to take Sam’s place. (If like in the original prompt the bigger bad is after information, and figures Sam—as a very good person—might just as easily give it up to save Rumlow as himself… and whatever it is, Sam can’t, not even for this…)
WOULD LOVE:
*Rumlow remains an unmitigated horrible person in general. This isn’t the road to redemption. He just can’t stand to see this specifically happen to Sam, who he feels is Above This. (Unlike, say, the asset.)
*Brock Rumlow’s Fragile Masculinity, which has twisted this around so that he is the real man here, capable of withstanding what he’s certain Sam couldn’t.
*Acres and acres of Sam Wilson’s hurt and guilt and confusion and anger, and how is he supposed to go back to normal life now, and who could he ever in good conscience talk to about this, given it’s not exactly his secret.
*Rumlow’s not thrilled about the situation, but he’s perfectly happy to have this claim on Sam’s attention, given his ever-growing creeper crush.

Better me.

[(Anonymous)]

A/N: I love Rumlow getting raped. To be Honest, this is my solid kink. I like it when he gets hurt and this is max hurtfulness.


If he were a Actual Good Guy, Rumlow might say something like "Wait, take me instead" or "No, not him!". But no, Rumlow is evil, he is aware that he's evil, and he'd never do something as direct as that. Instead, he looks their captor dead in the eye and snorts.

"Really? That's what you're going with? Getting your jollies off with him?" Rumlow sneers at the grunt their captors brought in for intimidation. He knows this particular technique: bring in someone big, stupid and mean, someone who likes pain, who loves hurting others. Let them have their fun with the captives and break them physically, let them believe there's no way out but coperation with their captors, let them be grateful for any reprieve they might get from the torture.

Sam Wilson, who was currently struggling to get away from the wandering hands of the grunt, went absolutely still and stared at Brock Rumlow.

Now, if this was anything like fingernail yanking or bone breaking, Rumlow would just look the other way. All soldiers are taught to deal with torture and pain.

But this was not. This was just, sick and dirty and wrong and Rumlow didn't think Sam Wilson, aka Falcon aka counselor at the Vet's hospital aka all round nice guy, had ever been faced with something like this.

Hell, most of the vets he saw, they were people who were dealing with getting limbs blown off, getting ditched by significant others, nightmares, the whole shindig that came with being in a war.

Sam Wilson didn't know anything about this.

He didn't know anything about used and put away wet.

Brock had seen his fair share, counseled a few junior agents through it, and experienced it a few times. This wasn't anything new. He was soiled and evil anyway. One more stain on his reputation didn't matter.

"I get it though, ugly mug like yours, popping your cherry with a black man's your ultimate fantasy, isn't it?" Brock taunts, jiggling his chains at the taller man.

Sam's eyes get even wider. He mouths 'what?' and a horrified 'no!' at Brock but Brock doesn't care. The grunt doesn't notice. No, he pauses halfway through yanking Sam's pants down, shoves the dark skinned man back into his cell, then advances on Brock's cage instead.

"Imma gonna teach you yer place," the grunt growls, shaking a meaty finger in Brock's face. He rips open the cell door and grabs Brock by the shirt, tearing it clear off.

Brock puts up a token struggle, pretending to try to get away.

"No, get off me you brute," he says in a total deadpan voice, but the grunt doesn't seem to notice. Brock meets Sam's horrified eyes and winks.

"You gon getit now!" The grunt theatens.

"Ow ow, no. stop."

Okay, that actually hurt, but hey, Brock doesn't expect anyone in this joint to know anything about foreplay or prep.

"Go fuck yourself, you stupid grunt. You know why you never moved up? The only head you're good for is your puny dick."

The punching, the slapping, the choking, it's pretty standard fare. Brock breathes, and rolls with it. It's nothing he's not experienced before, only now there's a huge un-named ugly fucker on top of him, pounding into him like it's the last time he'll ever have sex.

Okay and maybe it's a little weird that Sam's got a good look at his junk and not in a sexy manner, but Sam will just have to deal with that.

He's going to be bleeding and sore for days. Nothing new, standard fare, could be worse. Brock's not worried, grunts are usually too stupid to think of using anything else but their own pathetic dicks.

Brock's glad to be proven right when the grunt just slams into him one final time, cums, and withdraws.

"Fuck you," Brock spits out.

"No, I fucked you," The grunt sneers back, spitting on Brock.

Ewwww. Brock curls up and pretends to be way more injured than he actually is until the man leaves.

Then he uncurls, and then grabs his torn shirt. He wipes off the spit, then tries to get at the blood between his asscheeks.

Ow.

Eurgh. Sitting going to be a pain in the ass.

Hah. Pain. In the ass.

"Why did you do that?" Sam asks. The look of horror and shock is still there, like he can't believe that Brock did that for him.

"Seriously? You want to get fucked by that man? Cause I can call him back here," Brock can't stop his mouth from running.

"But you didn't - " Sam can't find the words.

Brock takes pity on him.

"Look, it's not a big deal," Brock starts to say.

"Not a big deal?! You were just raped!" Sam says the last word in a hush, as if the mere word would dirty him up.

Brock sighs, this is like explaining something to a toddler.

"You're a - " Brock motions vaguely at Sam "- a good person who doesn't deserve that."

"And you think you do?" Sam's incredulous.

Brock considers the question. Does he deserve to be punched? Yeah, probably, repeatedly. Does he deserve to pay for his crimes? Most certainly. Does he deserve to be brutalised? Well, no. But better him than Sam. Sam's a paragon of virtue by proxy because of his close relation to Captain America. Soiling paragons of virtue seems just tacky.

"Doesn't feel any dirtier than the first few times," Brock tries to placate the other man.

Sam goes quiet for a moment.

"So, how many times has this happened?"

Brock looks away. Okay, the disgust from Sam is a little harder to stomach than he thought it would be. He can just feel whatever mutual grudging respect for each other's skills draining away. Sam's never going to think of him as an equal again. And yeah, maybe he didn't think this all the way through to the fallout, but at least there's one less person with that pervasive 'eurhg' feeling at the backs of their minds when they think about sex.

"S'none of your business, birdboy."

Sam turns away.

Brock lowers himself to the ground and then curls up on his side.





Captain America busts in two days later.

During that two days, Brock gets 'visited' a couple more times. It's no worse than the first, no better than the last.

Brock, who is still buck naked, gets rescued by Clint. He gets clapped into better fitting chains, then hauled - still naked, but Clint lets him hold the shirt over his crotch - onto the jet that was sent to retrieve Sam.

They weren't planning on saving a second person, just Sam, so there aren't a lot of provisions to go around. Clint still grudgingly offers Brock some soup. Brock doesn't feel like eating. The 'eww' and 'eurgh' feeling always hangs around for a few weeks before it settles.

His rejection of the food doesn't go over well and the archer starts ranting about perverted ingrates.

Sam shuts the archer up with a glare.

Brock gets chained in the storage part of the jet while the Avengers have a heated conversation outside.

Brock's out of the frying pan and into the fire, but hey, at least the new chains are loose enough that his abused wrists can breathe. Also, the storage room has a really nice soft and squishy chair cushion that feels nice on Brock's bruised butt.

He falls asleep while waiting for the Avengers to decide what will happen to him.







No one tells him anything. Brock spends three weeks in a holding cell. The physical marks heal just fine. But the holding cell only serves to remind him of his recent captivity, which makes the 'ew' and 'eurgh' feeling last longer than it usually does. Thankfully, they let him take long showers, which keeps him sane.

He doesn't know if Sam's told the Avengers anything.

Ugh, whatever. It doesn't matter. S'not like Brock can un-fuck himself. He jangles his chains, hums to himself, rehearses some creative insults for the team, and then takes lots of naps.





Sam comes to visit. Brock very pointedly does not look at Sam because any disgust or revulsion or pity he sees is going to make the 'eurgh' feeling even worse.

"Why did you do it?" Sam asks again.

"What? Planting the bomb? I was following orders, it wasn't personal." Brock deliberately misunderstands the question.

"No, I mean, why did you give yourself up for me? You hate me." Sam looks so lost.

Brock stares at him.

"No I don't."

"You don't hate me?"

"... no?"

"We're enemies," Sam says it like it's a rule: Thou shalt hate thine enemy.

"Doesn't mean I have to hate you. Hate is a pretty strong word," Brock points out, "I mean, I hate it when you get in the way of Hydra missions, but I don't hate you. You're doing your job and I'm doing mine."

Sam looks like someone tore the floor out from under him and dumped him into a huge vat of "enlightenment". Brock waits for him to 'get it' because frankly, Brock has nowhere else to go.

Sam doesn't say anything else. He just gets up and leaves.

Brock goes back to sleep.






They decide to put him away, into another cell, on some floating prison. Brock can't be held in a normal facility. Either he will break out by himself, or Hydra will come and get him.

Prisons aren't supposed to be comfortable, but Brock's 'forever room' is surprisingly homey. There's a few books, a very fluffy blanket, instructions that he gets to take hot showers, and three pillows instead of one.

Brock picks up the first one. Under it is a small note.

It only reads:

Thanks.

~Sam

Brock's not sure why, but he feels a bit lighter.

Trash Rehearsal

[(Anonymous)]

Pre-CATWS, Steve enters into a (mostly) consensual kinky relationship with Rumlow and is really into being dommed and humiliated and such. (Forced fem is also good, rape play, complete obedience, maybe daddy kink, stuff like that.)

What Steve doesn't know is that Rumlow goes and practices on Bucky prior to doing scenes with Steve.

Additionally, Rumlow is also getting off on the knowledge that every filthy thing that Steve enthusiastically consents to, Rumlow had forced upon his best friend within the last 48 hours.

Trash Party Garbage Disposal

[(Anonymous)]

Inspired by this: https://notalwaysright.com/what-the-f/1285

So basically one weekend, one safehouse, one Asset, a group of Hydra agents, a fucktonne of catering-sized sandwich platters. Also lots of objectification and praise.

(I know the guy in the inspiration was probably just trying to be nasty over the phone, but the thought of Hydra agents doing that to a very unwilling Bucky made me go *head tilt*)

WS/Any, Vore +Reformation +Body Horror

[(Anonymous)]

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.

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

[(Anonymous)]

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

Brock/Bucky/Jack DD/LG

[(Anonymous)]

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.

Re: Brock/Bucky/Jack DD/LG

[(Anonymous)]

That's sweet. Disturbing, but sweet.

Accidental trash voyeurism from lowly outsider

[(Anonymous)]

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.

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

[(Anonymous)]

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."

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

[(Anonymous)]

Sorry buddy abo is off topic

E-stim, Rumlow/WS

[(Anonymous)]

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.

Re: E-stim, Rumlow/WS

[(Anonymous)]

FRICKEN YES

Bucky + shameboners

[(Anonymous)]

Post-civil war, Bucky has more or less processed his trash past. He hasn't opened up about it to anyone, but he remembers them and knows it wasn't his fault. But many nights, he'll wake up from a very vivid dream of being raped by some faceless stranger his brain concocted with a raging hard on. Maybe he's even cum in his sleep from it and he's so embarrassed by it and he thinks there must be something wrong with him

If he's seeing someone, he doesn't know how to tell them about this, or whether or not he wants to, but he's paranoid they'll find out anyway and think he's messed up

***if when he's masturbating, whatever fantasy is playing in his head eventually turns into a rape fantasy - cue more shameboners

Re: Bucky + shameboners

[(Anonymous)]

Oh wow…Things I didn't know I liked until now.

Steve/Bucky/Natasha aftermath trash

[(Anonymous)]

Okay, this is a long-shot, but I'm desperate for anything OT3-ish and sort of badwrong, but also sort of loving.

Basically, I've read recovery fics where Bucky needs it kink/unusual after rape and abuse and Nat is sort of a therapy Domme for him and Steve, but I'd really like something that is an emotionally equal threesome where everyone is in love and valued, true to their personality.

Ideally some sort of setup where it's rape re-enactment with Steve and Nat as dominant parties, and Bucky as the submissive one.

But honestly, I'm so desperate for this I'm totally open to kinks/tropes/preferences of potential authors. (I'm just not so hot on gross-ish things like shit and vomit), but like, I'm willing to bargain here.

Re: Steve/Bucky/Natasha aftermath trash

[(Anonymous)]

+1

Rumlow, Asset, caring, dehumanisation

[(Anonymous)]

Rumlow is a bad guy, sure. But he likes dogs. And the Asset is like a well-trained attack dog in human shape.
I want Rumlow being nice to the Asset in a completely dehumanising way.
Feeding it, training it, cleaning it, taking care of its wounds, calling it "Good boy" when it obeys.
The Asset doesn't understand it should feel humiliated. It's just grateful its handler is nice to it and seems to like it.

Re: Rumlow, Asset, caring, dehumanisation

[(Anonymous)]

Yesssss please

[(Anonymous)]

I really like this. I like the sensory descriptions and how much the audience feels what Bucky feels.

Horribly belated epiphany

[(Anonymous)]

So Steve may have some repression issues. Other people's business is their business and he's not gonna judge it, but he's always been very careful not to let the way he looks, feels, or thinks about men anywhere near even the abstract concept of homosexuality. Even Bucky. Especially Bucky. It's something he outright avoids thinking or learning more about, because he doesn't want to know what will happen if he connects those dots.

Until he's chained up in some baddie's dungeon getting smacked around by the guards, and it turns sexual. And suddenly the gritty details of sex between men are something he can't not think about, not if he wants to get through this.

Basically give me Steve Rogers having his Great Bisexual Epiphany right after he's been violently, traumatically raped. Anguish, disgust, shame, confusion, despair, and a couple of decades' worth of pent-up realization, all smacking him upside the head at the same time, on top of all the ways this experience is fucking him up already.

(Bonus if, to the best of his knowledge, Bucky hasn't endured similar treatment, because Hydra brass would never let the rank and file mishandle a prized weapon like that. Captured enemies, on the other hand, are a perfect target for gratuitous humiliation and abuse. And bonus if that makes Steve ten times more determined never to let Bucky guess what happened or what Steve's feelings for him are.)

Re: Horribly belated epiphany

[(Anonymous)]

Oh no

Unprompted Fill: Skin Trade (Hydra/WS Forced Prostitution 5+1)

[(Anonymous)]

I waffled about posting this prompt for so long I ended up writing it myself, oops!

The Winter Soldier may be a living weapon rather than a person, but it actually is allowed to want things. It mustn't get greedy and make too many requests, though; Hydra is already gracious and patient with its outrageous demands for frivolous luxuries such as warm bedding or the privilege of squandering half an hour on "free time." It knows full well that it must pay its masters for everything above and beyond the necessities that they provide.

Or, 5 times Bucky/the Winter Soldier sold his body to Hydra agents for minor things +1 time he tried to pay Steve in the aftermath.

Unprompted Fill: Skin Trade 1/6

[(Anonymous)]

ПЯТЬ | 1946

Sergeant Barnes had used the words “God-forsaken” plenty of times before the fall but it was Russia that taught him what they meant.

There were no windows to tell the days by, no sun to count the hours. He’d long since given up on keeping track of his breaths – turns out he can’t count that high. At least, not with his one intact arm chained over his head and his feet struggling to balance on the edges of a bucket. He’d given up on listing off name, rank, serial, on screaming, on quiet sobbing. How long would it take for his balance to fail and his shoulder to finish sliding out of its socket?

Did it really matter anymore how long it took?

He didn’t bother praying that he’d held out a few days at least, but he hoped for it pretty hard which is almost the same. Only difference is he’d stopped expecting someone to listen. He didn’t have a whole lot of pride left but he clung to it like it was the only thing keeping him sane in this frozen Hell. Maybe it was. So when the Russians finally came to take him down he did his level best not to cry like a goddamn baby and curl up in an aching ball at their feet. He’d compromise for wet gasps and wobbling on his knees.

These stress-position marathons were all the same in one regard, even if their creativity and cruelty always managed to surprise Barnes: no food, no water, no sleep. His throat was fire from the wet-scabbed cracks in his lips to the desert of his mouth, right down to the angry, empty cramps of his gut. They didn’t want him dead, he was sure of it, so they’d have to give him water soon or risk losing their plaything.

It was the first word out of his mouth. His head was already pounding so hard from dehydration he almost didn’t feel one of the soldiers – agents – whatever – backhand him, even as the blow bowled him over.

“Русский,” the soldier demanded, sneering.

Barnes licked dry lips with a dry tongue. “Вода?” he tried.

Amazing how quickly you could pick up scraps of a new language when you had to.

But then the soldier shoved him back down with a booted foot and asked, «Why?»

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

He wasn’t. Barnes got kicked in the ribs for his trouble.

Fine then. He played along, clumsy as he was with the foreign tongue. «If no water I die soon.»

The first soldier gestured to the others, and one stepped forward and seized him by the hair to pull his head up and back. The third produced a canteen and splashed stale, rust-flavoured liquid down onto him. It was barely a mouthful. Relatively speaking, it was ambrosia.

Something about it set off alarm bells in Barnes’ head to the tune of “That’s gonna make you sick.” Well, better that than dead. All he could really think of at the moment was the need for more. He leaned against the grip on his hair, pushing his face towards the canteen that was already being drawn away.

They snickered at his desperation. «You want more?»

Barnes tried to nod, but the soldier’s grip tightened, making his head throb all the worse. A groan bubbled out of his mouth from sheer nauseating pain, but he managed, “Да.”

The soldiers exchanged a look. «We make deal,» the first one said, or at least that was what Barnes caught of it. «You want more than we give you, you pay. Much water is luxury. For luxury, you pay.»

Barnes tried to swallow. There were those alarms again. This was a trap, one of their tricks. The first soldier reached for his belt and there it was, the thing he’d been praying they wouldn’t do all these months, the buckle opened and they were going to–

He jerked against the other soldier’s grip, grappled weakly at the wrist holding him in place, and lashed out with a foot. His kick missed but his point got across. «Fuck you, no, no deal! Fuck your water!»

«Too bad,» the Russian smirked. A gloved finger ran along his lips. «You will change your mind.»

Fuck that. He bit that finger. The next thing he knew someone was grabbing the stump of his left arm and squeezing, and he heard himself scream and scream until the pain made everything go dark.

#

After blacking out they finally let him sleep where he fell. Barnes woke to inflamed muscles, a howling stomach, and a pounding headache. The thump of boots approaching his cell made him jolt upright. He started shivering violently – an ingrained response after God only knew how much time at the Red Room’s tender mercy.

The same three agents stepped into his cell. He wasn’t sure how he knew, given these goddamn eastern Hydra goons all wore masks like their German counterparts, but he knew even before one of them grabbed him by the hair. «Ready to make a deal, little one? Sell your pretty mouth?»

“Get fucked,” Barnes groaned. «No deal. No sale.»

«Your loss.» They flicked out clubs and fell on him till the world went black again.

#

The ache in his head made it hard to see. The headache throbbed in his eyes. His hands shook.

The soldiers returned.

«The water is good today,» their leader plied. «Cold and sweet.»

They passed a canteen among themselves and made him watch them drink.

They made their offer again, hands on belt buckles ready to go.

When he told them to go to Hell, they beat the stump of his left arm and the soles of his feet. Before they left they poured the rest of their shared canteen on the floor.

Joke’s on them. As soon as they left, Barnes abandoned all pride and lapped what precious little moisture he could get right off the stone.

#

He couldn’t hold out any goddamn longer. There was no God in this place. No rescue forthcoming, not in the foreseeable future. He was in Hell, and these Russian fucks were demons sent to torment him for all eternity. The door opened and the trio stepped inside, and something inside Bucky shattered like a twig under tank tread.

«Okay,» he croaked, «okay.»

«We said you change your mind,» the lead soldier crooned (Barnes didn’t catch all the words, but close enough). «Ready to pay?»

No. Never. He nodded, steadying his breath. «Clean water,» he amended.

The Russian cocked his head in what Barnes imagined was an appraising look. Something about that made him grateful he’d thought to get specific. «This is much to ask for. Make it worthwhile.»

Barnes knelt on the frigid stone floor with his remaining hand rubbing absently at the stump on his left. It wasn’t oozing or smelling of grapes but it still ached. Everything ached, but this was a particular hurt, seeming to come from somewhere below the elbow he no longer had. He didn’t look up at the clink of a belt buckle and buttons. Every second he could hold onto before this happened was precious.

There wasn’t nearly enough time. A gloved hand fisted in his hair and steered him where the man wanted his mouth. The soldier’s cock was halfway hard and slow-motion twitching in interest, but Barnes had his work cut out for him. He opened his mouth and took the damn thing in.

Almost immediately the Russian grunted and tried to guide him by the ears, which made a flash of annoyance flare through him: no goddamn Russkie Hydra bastard needed to teach Bucky Barnes how to suck a dick. His mouth was far too dry to be much good on its own, so he grabbed the base of his jailor’s shaft and stroked it hard in tandem with his suction and his tongue. The faster he could get this sonofabitch off the faster he could drink.

The guy talked an awful lot in hisses and groans. Most of the words Barnes didn’t know yet, but he knew the kinda smut that came out of a guy’s mouth when he’s on the business end of a suck job and figured it must be about the same in Russian as it was in English. The agent came quick enough to shame him. Hot, bitter fluid flooded his mouth and he was so out of his mind with thirst he swallowed once before he could stop himself, though he spat the rest out between the man’s boots.

He knelt there, face burning as he heaved for breath, and thrust his hand up in demand. “Вода.”

“Шлюха,” one of the Russians sneered as they passed him a canteen. He made a note to find out what that word meant; he’d heard it aimed at him an awful lot. None of that mattered for now. He lunged for the canteen and scrabbled backwards till he could put his back against the wall and guzzle every last drop of water they’d given him. He drank till his lungs burned and his stomach felt like it might pop right open and then he drank some more.

«I think he liked that,» one of them was snickering, and it was all he could do not to get back up and spit in the fucker’s face. «Imagine what he’ll sell when he gets hungry enough.»

Barnes curled into the corner where he slept (when they let him sleep) and tried very, very hard not to think about that. He’d already disgraced himself in more ways than he could count. Seemed like Hydra wouldn’t stop until there was nothing left of him to shame.

Winter and his new toy

[(Anonymous)]

The bad guys win, at least against Cap. They have their way with him and do whatever they never got to with Captain America himself in their clutches. But afterwards, since he's always been a pain in their ass it's time to get rid of him.

Only, their valuable Winter Soldier has been ornery lately, so they get an idea. Instead of killing Cap they give him to the Soldier as a little incentive to perform better.

This ends in the Asset using a paralyzed and/or half dead Steve as a human teddy bear. No angry animal-like sex, just lonely Winter cuddling his soft new toy who looks and even ~smells~ so familiar.

I guess this'd have to take place before the second Cap movie would happen.

mini-fill "The Kindness of Strangers" Re: Winter and his new toy

[(Anonymous)]

"He looks dead." And Steve felt dead. They'd blinded him and all his limbs flop uselessly where they'd broken bones or tore up tendons. He'd long since stopped counting the number of bleeding wounds, and his breath is coming in slow and shallow. But he could afford an internal chuckle: at least both his ears worked, which means this is still farther from death than December 1932. Though just by a hair.

"Well, not quite, but getting close... I'd say 2 hours tops at this rate." Ah yes, that's the voice of the guy who decided he wanted to fuck Captain America's guts, and had enough medical training to slice open his belly without harming the intestines. Sicko.

"I ... I guess we should finish him off now?" Someone reached over to try to pick him up. It's the young kid who quickly shed his wide-eyed stare for a chance at shocking his balls with a cattle prod. "Oof, he's heavy as fuck." Damn right, 200 lbs of dead weight. Hah. Dead.

The sound of the door opening and closing. Steve couldn't hear anyone step in, but they must have, since the room was suddenly a jumble of voices.

"Oh hey, Asset, c'mere and help. Gotta toss him out." He felt strong arms pick him up and hoist him over a cold, hard shoulder in a fireman's carry. The pain from being moved makes him miss the next bit.

"... somewhere to bleed out for the next 2 hours. Maybe we should have some display, show the world what happens when you defy..."

"... you know we can't blow our cover before the big day." Dammit, every time the kid gets close to saying which group they're with, the guy with the beard always cuts him off.

"Guys... look at how it's staring at him."

"Oh man, too bad we busted Cap's eyes, if he saw, that'd give him a heart attack and kill him right there." Steve was filled with sudden curiosity -- what was he not supposed to see? The man carrying him, the Asset, remained completely still.

"Hey, Asset, you want this corpse?" The kid again.

The beard guy slaps him. "Shut up, it's not supposed to want things." And then, probably a shrug? "Whatever. Here, the guy's yours. Enjoy."

The sounds of the sadists pulling their pants back on and heading for the door.

"Oh, and clean up the room."

And with that, they trooped out, and Steve was left with silence.

After a quick moment, he felt himself being put back down again. But this time, it was so gentle there was barely any pain. What was the Asset going to do to him? And why couldn't he hear the Asset's movements, even with his enhanced hearing?

He felt fingers pry at his mouth. Dammit, not again. He try to clamp down, but the gut-fucker messed with his jaw, too. Well, what's one more cock, right?

Instead of another hard dick, however, he felt fingers pushing something against his gums. Something hard and bony. Wait, is the guy actually putting Steve's teeth back in? They'd knocked them out after Steve bit the first guy, and he'd been a drooling mess ever since.

This was followed by a gentle resetting of his bones and patching of his wounds. The guy clearly didn't have much to work with -- just some spare rags that felt suspiciously like the remnant's of Steve's clothes that they'd cut off. But the Asset was clearly experienced with field medicine, even making makeshift needle and thread from something.

Somewhere in the middle of that Steve must have relaxed enough to pass out, because the thing next thing he knew he was in a much colder place and some food was being shoved into his mouth. With a tongue.

"Look at the freak, first it plays dress-up with the corpse, and now it's making out with it." There was the sound of someone batting a stick against metal bars of a cage, as if taunting an animal at the zoo. If Steve wasn't so incapacitated he'd be punching the source of the voice. The only guy who had shown any semblance of humanity in this place, was being kept in a cell and being called a freak and an 'it'?

But all he could do is wiggle his tongue, and the Asset took it as opportunity to deepen the kiss and shove more food down his throat. Right. If he wants to punch anyone, he has to heal first.

Even with his enhanced healing, he was still pretty much a rag doll over the next few days. Which meant that he was completely subject to the Asset's strange ministrations. When the Asset was in his cell he never took his hands off of Steve. He'd sit Steve in his lap, or cradle Steve's head and pat his shoulder and kiss his eyelids. He'd fuss with Steve's clothes, or at least whatever he'd salvaged to drape on Steve, and lick the pus from Steve's wounds. And when the Asset laid down to rest he'd tuck Steve against him, pillowing Steve's head on his left arm, which was definitely metal. Odd as he was, the Asset was always gentle. Steve itched to move, or at least that his eyes would heal enough that he could see this strange, silent man.

He'd only put Steve down when he was summoned by the others. They'd open the cell door and say either, "We need the Fist" or "We need the Hound", and he'd leave, as silent as he's always been. It took Steve a couple of iterations to figure it out: when they needed the Fist, the guy came back smelling like blood and smoke. When they needed the Hound, he'd come back smelling like blood and semen.

The more he sussed out about the Asset, the more confused Steve got. Soon. His eyes were already starting to itch, and he could feel his limbs starting to knit together.

When his jaw healed, he tried to thank the guy. But he'd barely gotten half a sound out before he felt strong fingers pressing his lips and eyelids closed, and the metal hand at his throat. Moments later he heard footsteps approaching. Steve got the message: he's only alive because they think he's dead. And for whatever reason, the Asset wanted to keep it that way.

"Hey, Asset." There was a loud clanging as the voice of Beard Guy struck his stun baton against the metal bars. "You're due to be iced in a coupla hours. Enough playing with Cap's corpse, toss him."

And with that, Steve felt himself heaved onto the Asset's shoulders and carried out. Two lefts, one right, some stairs, and another right, and then a blast of fresh air: salty breeze and the sound of waves striking rock. Before Steve could muster his muscles to strike out, he was airborne. He cracked his eyes open enough to see on the cliffside that was now 20 feet away: long hair, metal arm, already turning back towards the compound, followed by 4 men with guns out. And then Steve was plummeting. He'd been tossed clear of the rocks, so there was nothing but the deep blue of waters below. Steve found himself smiling. He was very good at diving without a parachute.

Bucky/HYDRA noncon fisting, forced orgasm

[(Anonymous)]

Bucky gets fisted by HYDRA agents as a form of punishment/torture, and (whether they're purposely aiming for it or as a result of sex pollen - a la Blood from a Stone - or just as a result of the stimulation) orgasms as a result of it. Up to you whether this is a method HYDRA uses to break down pre-WS Bucky, to punish the Winter Soldier, or to punish/retraumatize a post-CATWS Bucky that had been regaining some of his memories/autonomy/sense-of-self etc etc.

Give me all the shame/humiliation of his body responding to it and getting off on it.

bonus points for:
++++ multiple orgasms
+++++ going from silent and stoic to having to force himself not to beg for it
++++++++ if someone else (preferably Steve and/or Sam) is forced to watch, and Bucky's added humiliation of them having to see him degraded this way and (in his view) enjoying it

Beer Bottle Party

[(Anonymous)]

HYDRA would fuck the winter soldier with unopened glass bottles, shock him so all his muscles contracted and then use his super ass to remove the metal lids.

+100 if you can get aftermath and Bucky being triggered by beer/old fashioned soda bottles in there.

*hides under moldy cardboard and condom wrappers*

Re: Beer Bottle Party

[(Anonymous)]

OP, additional ideas:
-he has to remove or shit out the lids
-the alcohol 'accidentally' gets in
-they make him drink it

Extra Soiled Trash or Shitty Scat Kink

[(Anonymous)]

With Hydra, Winter was mostly on a liquid diet. On the run, he was eating far too little. Now, he has all the food his enhanced metabolism needs but his rr bowels aren't used to it.
+upset bowels of any sort,
+the slow, steady discomfort from being too full, especially in public
+Steve rubbing Winter's shit-filled gut to make him relax enough to actually excrete it
+the damage from repeated rapes to his rectum and anus means he either has problems keeping a larger amount of shit in or he feels pain crapping it out or (please) both
+extensive anal training to deal with the above problems, eg excercising his anal &pelvic floor muscles with a weighted plug or stretching his asshole with fingers and toys
+awkward arousal from the anal play and scat on both boys' part, culminating in
+actually sliding Steve's dick up Winter's asshole and shameless fucking

Pre-CATWS Winter Soldier/Steve

[(Anonymous)]

Alternate timeline, or some comics-science gimmick to ensure neither of them remembers it ever happened, or whatever, I don't care. Just something where their paths cross on a mission, they fight, and the Winter Soldier brutally has his way with a struggling, horrified Steve Rogers.

+1 for metal-arm choking, involuntary arousal, defiance

Bucky + circumcision

[(Anonymous)]

So, I've been researching about whether Steve and Bucky would be circumcised or not, because that's what my life has come to, and there seems to be a chance either way based on several different historical facts. For the sake of this prompt, let's assume Bucky wasn't circumcised and HYDRA circumcises him at some point (to see if the skin grows back? For easier maintenance? Personal preference of the current handler?) Of course they don't bother with any kind of anesthesia, and Bucky's confused brain doesn't really understand what's going on.

I want to see a recovering Bucky dealing with the changes in his body, like, even his dick was changed by HYDRA.

++++Steve knew his dick before (not necessarily because they had sex, but they must have seen each other naked at some point) and comments on the change.
+++++ Bucky doesn't want to touch/be touched because it feels different.

Hydra ruined Bucky's life attempted suicide addition with Steve/Bucky aftermath

[(Anonymous)]

Lots of self-harm/suicidal themes and thoughts in this one, just to warn you.
And maybe past rape. Also ableism?



So I can't get the idea of Bucky using The Chair to kill himself out of my head. I think it would go like this: Steve hasn't given up looking for Bucky after CA:TWS, but he doesn't seem to want to be found so Steve backs off just a bit. But Bucky is constantly plagued by all the noise in his head. Hydra really fucked him over -possibly literally- and he can't stop hating himself for being "evil" and "insane" and wanting to hurt and/or kill himself.

It gets to be too much and Bucky decides to end it- but wants to make it look like an accident in case Steve finds out because for some reason the idea of Steve finding out he killed himself all alone bothers him. He decides to set The Chair up to max power and fry himself to death.

But it doesn't work- he survives but is in massive pain and confusion and might have caused some permanent damage. This ends in him stumbling to Steve out of desperation. Until now Steve didn't realize just how badly Bucky was doing.

Re: Hydra ruined Bucky's life attempted suicide addition with Steve/Bucky aftermath

[(Anonymous)]

love it love it love it. i came off my bike a few years ago & hit my head and i had to recover alone in the aftermath being very confused so it'd be in my interests to see bucky getting looked after by steve. maybe bucky is more loose-lipped about stuff hydra did to him when his head has been all messed around with like that..? poor steve

Sam/Riley, Zombie Boy

[(Anonymous)]

So, in the comics, at one point Hydra gets involved with making zombies. That happened, it's a thing, I don't remember why and I don't care. Anyway, since everyone else's best friend already came back from the dead in the MCU, Hydra doesn't have a lot of corpses they can get their trashy hands on to traumatize the shit out of Cap's team. There is, however, one unfortunate fucker buried in Arlington that no one's been paying attention to. . .

That's right. Hydra digs up Riley's mutilated body and gets him shambling through a mix of dark magic, Tesseract tech, and weird science. Their experiment has left his bodily fluids (blood, saliva, and semen) corrupted, priming him as the Subject Zero of a zombie outbreak, and for whatever reason, he's got a surprising amount of cognitive function, so while he is a rotting undead mess, he's also still basically the same guy beneath the sometimes ravenous hunger for brains and human flesh.

Sam is, understandably, horribly upset when he finds out, and embarks on a mission to rescue his wingman. And well, this prompt wouldn't be garbage enough for this meme without me requesting that they fuck after being reunited.

My little necro-creeper heart will overflow for any of the following:
+ safe sex practices to keep Sam from turning into a zombie too
+ a brutal, consensual face-fuck because Riley doesn't actually need to breathe
+ Riley bottoming because without a heart beat he can't get enough blood to his dick to hold an erection
+ Sam fucking one of Riley's open wounds BECAUSE WHY NOT

Re: Sam/Riley, Zombie Boy

[(Anonymous)]

I'm........ into this.....?!