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.

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Give me skinny Steve, in basic training, having just learned (via graphic no-homo barracks humor) the mechanics of how two men can have sex, caught between disgust and raging arousal. Being surrounded by hot naked guys in the communal showers has already taught him a thing or two about his own inclinations, but he can't quite get over his instinctive horror at the idea of sucking cock--or, especially, of doing it up the ass. And all the pecking-order displays of masculinity aren't doing a whole lot to bring his hackles down.

Cue shameful, furtive, desperately horny jerk-off sessions in his bunk or the showers, looking over his shoulder in case someone walks in on him. He still can't bring himself to think about doing half this stuff willingly. So what comes out instead are nasty, fucked-up, degrading fantasies of being forced into it: Hodge cornering him alone in the barracks and brutally sodomizing him, the other guys all noticing his hard-on in the shower and taking turns slapping and groping it, a superior officer threatening to get him kicked out unless he gets down on his knees like a good little cocksucker. It always leaves him feeling drained, dirty, and ashamed of himself after he comes, but once he's started, he can't stop.

(Bonus for actual Steve!trash much further down the line, with unwilling arousal and forced orgasm, followed by all the shame. So much shame. Shame and a giant mess of conflicted feelings, mmmm.)

Yes hello where do I sign up for this

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Heeerrre for it.

Hey so I didn't....quite have the energy to add an actual, non-fantasy rape scene but uh. Enjoy, y'all. Also, be warned, obviously: dark shit therein, though everything is all in Steve's head.

So he hasn’t actually been to Mass since his mother died. The fact remains, he’s Catholic. And going to hell.

“We’re all going to hell,” the guy who slept across from Steve had said. The one with the shoulders. The shoulders. “Might as well enjoy the ride.”

He’d said this in reference to the fact that he’d made a very dirty joke about somebody else’s wife, but Steve liked to imagine he would say it as he took Steve’s face in his hands and roughly guided him through a blowjob, calling him an ugly little fairy all the while.

This was why, between them, it wasn’t Shoulders Guy who was probably going to hell. That would probably be Steve.

He’d suspected he might be a bit of a fairy for some time, and put the thought away along with murky dreams of Bucky shirtless and what his body might feel like aligned with Steve’s, but then he arrived at basic and learned two things fast.

The first was that two men could actually have sex, beyond hand-and-mouth stuff. The genesis of this realization was another dirty joke, but Steve had worked backwards from the punchline and arrived at the conclusion the carnal knowledge between men consisted of one guy fucking like he would a lady and the other, to his profound horror and the deep offensive to his delicate Catholic sensibilities, taking it right up the ass.

The second was that naked, wet men in a communal shower did things to Steve’s body he didn’t remember asking it to try, and filled his head with thoughts of what it would be like to be one of these mysterious men who

who

got fucked.

All of this was how Steve found himself in a toilet stall at one in the morning, chomping down on his own hand to keep from making noise as he jerked it furiously to the image of Shoulders Guy pushing him up into the wall, calling him girly like the guys back home did, but taking it further, asking if he was pretty like a girl when he choked on cock, cradling his tiny jaw in one enormous hand and forcing his mouth open with his dirty thumb.

Steve could imagine the roughness dragging over his lower lip, such a pretty girl, felt the spit on his own hand and imagined Shoulders Guy laughing, saying you’re desperate for it, aren’t you, sliding his hand down to Steve’s neck and squeezing just a little, guiding him down and forcing Steve’s mouth back open with his thumb.

That’s a good girl, he’d say, and push his cock into Steve’s mouth, hold Steve’s head on both sides and force him into a rhythm, smile at the choking gasping little noises Steve made, oh, I know, you want it, you’re starving for it, aren’t you?, and he’d let go of Steve’s head and say to keep going, unless you want to stop, are you all sated now? and Steve, helplessly hard and with his mouth achingly empty without that cock inside, would shake his head, keep his eyes wide and fixed on Shoulders Guy’s face, close his lips properly along his cock and hollow out his cheeks, unable to resist it, a desperate squirmy little whore with his own erection visibly pressing against his pants, and when Shoulders Guy came Steve would swallow it, keep sucking like he was starving for it, pull away gasping with his mouth red and round and wet and his eyes glassy and fixed hungrily on Shoulders Guy’s face.

And Shoulders Guy would drag his wet cock across Steve’s cheek, call Steve a good little slut, down on his knees like an eager little whore, and laugh when he noticed Steve’s erection, lift one foot to nudge against it roughly, say god you’re so desperate for my cock, aren’t you? aren’t you? and Steve would whine and nod and try to grind himself against Shoulders Guy’s foot before he laughed and withdrew it and ran a hand roughly through Steve’s hair, forcing him to look up at him and chuckling, close your mouth you filthy little cockslut, and then in the real bathroom Steve is sticking his face into his elbow to muffle the noise he wants to make so badly as he comes spectacularly.

He’s going to hell.

For two days, Steve walks around sure everyone can see the weight of his shame, how dirty his thoughts are when he watches people run or eat or shower or

you know, anything.

They can’t, apparently. If they can, they’re keeping it quiet.

Two nights later Steve has to slip back to the bathroom, because he can’t stop imagining that they can see, that the next time they’ll all be showering his cock will swell up before he can stop it, he’ll be standing there tiny and slender and delicate and trying to shower as though his cock isn’t throbbing and they’ll all know.

And someone will suddenly come over and slap it, hard, call him such an eager little slut, and someone else will reach over and slap it too, and that’ll only make him harder, because they’re touching him and he’s so desperate for that, and someone else will take his cock in their hand, so much bigger than any part of him, and lead him along like it’s a fucking leash, he’ll follow absolutely helplessly, whining and moaning at the tugging awful pressure, and then they’ll let go and arms will hold him from behind, around his waist, slippery and wet and so big around his tiny frame, they’ll call him a tiny little girl and then

Steve doesn’t really know how it would work, but he knows they’d bend him over, he knows that the cock suddenly inside would stuff him so full, would probably hurt, and they’d laugh because no matter how much it hurt he’d still be tiny and helpless, skewered there, gasping and groaning and trying to wriggle and someone would grab his arms and say now now princess and someone else would say he was tight as a girl, tight as a tiny cunt, and they’d laugh and he’d be bent there and they’d take their time, take turns, use him like a whore, like a living doll, all the while laughing at his arousal, making him suck their cocks till he choked and laughing at the airless little noises he’d make, helpless, say look how desperate he is to be filled up, look how desperate pretty little Rogers is for cock.

The real Steve comes, hard, all over his own hand, when the image of Shoulders Guy stretched languidly on his back floats to his head, watching Steve ride him just like a girl, laughing even harder at the noises Steve makes and calling him such a pretty little slut, so desperate.

The next day, in the showers, Steve is sure they can tell. He’s scared they’ll know. They’ll—do that. They’ll laugh.

He isn’t. He should be. Instead he’s mostly scared imagining it is going to get him hard again.

Hell. That is where he’s going. He’s very sure, now.

For two days, Steve walks around sure everyone can see the weight of his shame, how dirty his thoughts are when he watches people run or eat or shower or

you know, anything.

They can’t, apparently. If they can, they’re keeping it quiet.

Two nights later Steve has to slip back to the bathroom, because he can’t stop imagining that they can see, that the next time they’ll all be showering his cock will swell up before he can stop it, he’ll be standing there tiny and slender and delicate and trying to shower as though his cock isn’t throbbing and they’ll all know.

And someone will suddenly come over and slap it, hard, call him such an eager little slut, and someone else will reach over and slap it too, and that’ll only make him harder, because they’re touching him and he’s so desperate for that, and someone else will take his cock in their hand, so much bigger than any part of him, and lead him along like it’s a fucking leash, he’ll follow absolutely helplessly, whining and moaning at the tugging awful pressure, and then they’ll let go and arms will hold him from behind, around his waist, slippery and wet and so big around his tiny frame, they’ll call him a tiny little girl and then

Steve doesn’t really know how it would work, but he knows they’d bend him over, he knows that the cock suddenly inside would stuff him so full, would probably hurt, and they’d laugh because no matter how much it hurt he’d still be tiny and helpless, skewered there, gasping and groaning and trying to wriggle and someone would grab his arms and say now now princess and someone else would say he was tight as a girl, tight as a tiny cunt, and they’d laugh and he’d be bent there and they’d take their time, take turns, use him like a whore, like a living doll, all the while laughing at his arousal, making him suck their cocks till he choked and laughing at the airless little noises he’d make, helpless, say look how desperate he is to be filled up, look how desperate pretty little Rogers is for cock.

The real Steve comes, hard, all over his own hand, when the image of Shoulders Guy stretched languidly on his back floats to his head, watching Steve ride him just like a girl, laughing even harder at the noises Steve makes and calling him such a pretty little slut, so desperate.

The next day, in the showers, Steve is sure they can tell. He’s scared they’ll know. They’ll—do that. They’ll laugh.

He isn’t. He should be. Instead he’s mostly scared imagining it is going to get him hard again.

Hell. That is where he’s going. He’s very sure, now.

OP

OMFG. This is everything I've ever wanted in life. Hnnnnnnnnghhhh. *____*

Lol you replied fast! I was refreshing to see if it posted lol

I'm so glad you like it!! I.........am So Down for fuckery and thirsty skinny gay Steve

Ha, I love everything about this, but especially

- The one with the shoulders. XD

- Steve being led around on his dick, jfc who'd have thought that would be so hot??

Meaning to say: you're amazing, author!anon

OH.MY.GOD. THIS IS SO HOT.

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Dumpster #3: The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

Skinny Steve jerks it to nasty shit

Re: Skinny Steve jerks it to nasty shit

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Re: Skinny Steve jerks it to nasty shit

FILL: Skinny Steve jerks it to nasty shit, 1/2

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Re: FILL: Skinny Steve jerks it to nasty shit, 1/2