hydratrashmeme | 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Content warning: non-graphic reference to attempted rape of a minor.

She's huddled against the wall in the corner of her cell when they bring Sam in. It's been three days and fourteen hours since they took her clothes. Her left arm is broken, as are two of her ribs. The back of her head is sticky with blood. They haven't fed her.

They keep their guns trained on her until the cell door slams shut: Sam locked in with her, six HYDRA agents safely outside the bars. Natasha could laugh at that, almost, if the smallest movement didn't send agony lancing through her skull. She is an Avenger, and an exquisite fighter, but she is human through and through. No training can make her less small, less breakable: her style depends on not getting hit. She can't take punishment like Thor, or mend her shattered bones like Steve. The HYDRA goons are still afraid of her, which is gratifying, but she is crippled with pain and nausea. She doubts she could stand, and doesn't try.

Sam stumbles over to kneel at her side. The bullet wound in his thigh has been bandaged. The skin of his wrists is ugly, abraded, and one eye is swollen nearly shut. Like her, he is naked.

They listen while the ringleader explains what is going to happen. His voice has a hollow, muffled quality, like a sound heard underwater. She is not surprised, but Sam jerks back from her and struggles to his feet, turning to face their tormentors. She hears him refuse, hears the horror in his voice.

"You fuck her, Wilson, or we do. All of us. And we'll do it mean. Think she'll survive that? I don't know: looks like a nasty head wound to me." He leers at them, enjoying himself. Two of the others already have their pants open. One has his cellphone out. "She might—she's tough. Up to you."

"You want to—" Sam's voice breaks. "Fuck. You want to do this sick shit to someone, do it to me. Leave her alone. She's hurt."

The ringleader laughs. "Tempting. But no. This way, we get the whole fucking lot of you." Inwardly, Natasha winces. "What are you so worried about, anyway? You got to figure this ain't her first rodeo."

And that's—well. Not true, not the way this vicious bastard means it, although she knows it's something certain people assume about her, based partly on rumors about the Red Room and partly, she thinks, on their own bitter familiarity with the way power over children is too often exploited. But none of their handlers had hurt the little Widows like that. Or rather: one had tried. She'd been ten, and she had killed him.

Still, it might be easier for Sam to think that rape holds no terror for her, or at least, no novelty. He has fallen back to his knees. His head is bowed, his face turned away from her. "He's right," she says, and has to stop. Her own voice grates against the inside of her skull. "It's okay. Sam, it's okay."

"It's not." The word is a sob. He directs another glare at their audience. "How the fuck do you even think—fuck. I can't."

More laughter. The ringleader explains the options. Sam can get himself hard, or they can drug him. "HYDRA's got some good shit, too. You won't like it, though. Might make you lose control. Forget she's hurt." And that's no choice at all, not really. When his hand starts to move between his legs, she looks away.

Viktor had broken her nose, broken her wrist, gotten her dress off, bruised her and scared her badly before she managed to snap his neck. In the days afterward, her other handlers had come one by one to sit beside her bed in the infirmary and comfort her, praise her.

We're so proud of you.

But I hate that everyone knows.

Why? A man who would do that to a child—or to anyone, against their will—is a bad man. He deserved to die.

I'm embarrassed.

Why? You didn't do anything wrong. Even if he'd succeeded, you'd have nothing to be embarrassed about. You're our good, brave, strong girl. No evil man can change that.

Sam fucks her on her back, her broken arm folded like an injured wing across her chest. The stabbing pain of it is sickening. She closes her eyes, so she will not see his face. He is careful, but every thrust jolts her body, setting off searing fireworks at the base of her skull. The floor heaves and tilts: she is afraid she will vomit. She is afraid that if she passes out, she will not wake up.

Stop, she'd said to Viktor. And then, when he hadn't, she'd screamed it at him. Stop it! Don't touch me! She bites her tongue, tastes blood. She will not make this worse for Sam.

It seems to take a long time.

D: this is heartbreaking and so, so good. Nat thinking about that it's not her fault and comforting herself with things the red room told her while also trying to not make it worse for Sam are killing me so good.

Thank you! :D I thought it'd be fun to mess with her backstory a little. And yeah, she knows they're hurting Sam too.

<333

:-*

What gets me here is the friendship and care you show between them even in a very difficult situation. Lovely writing

They just want to take care of each other, if HYDRA would let them!

I love that the Red Room actually said kind and supportive things to her! Makes it so much more tangled and difficult.

(OP here)

I DON'T KNOW HOW I MISSED THIS. Oh gosh, it is so good! I hope there will be more of it, but even if there isn't I'm still so happy with what there is. So happy.

Like others have said, I love how you changed up the usual Red Room narrative and had them be supportive of her when she killed the one man who tried to rape her. I also love how you acknowledge how human she is and take away her ability to really fight at the same time by giving her such serious injuries. She must feel so trapped and it is perfect.

piles up all the bits of string, old water damaged newspaper clippings, and rotten apple cores I can find and shoves them at you with stars in my eyes

Dumpster #3: The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

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