hydratrashmeme | Dumpster #4: I Don't See How That's a Party

Dumpster #4: I Don't See How That's a Party

Okay, kids, you know the drill. Don't be a jerk except to fictional characters. Warn if you want, but read at your own risk, because

hydratrashmeme is about as far from a safe space as you can get. Garbage we like: noncon, whump, aftermath, violence, mind control, inappropriate uses of Bucky Barnes' metal arm, bad guys doing dirtybadwrong things to your faves. Garbage you should find a different trashcan for: a/b/o, D/s-verse, soulbonds, mundane AUs, OOC evil!good guys doing dirtybadwrong things to your faves, rotting leftovers dressed up as a romantic gourmet meal. Nothing wrong with 'em, but this isn't the crowd you should be pitching to if you're trying to sell Brock Rumlow as anything but a human dumpster fire.

Link your fills on the fill post, post unprompted fills as replies to a header comment so the wall o' text is collapsible, and let me know if you're interested in helping out with the Pinboard archive.

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All prompts or fills that contain Infinity War spoilers must go on the Infinity War spoiler post until May 26th. Spoilers in the main dumpsters will be deleted.

Round 4 is closed; comments and fills in existing threads are still welcome, but all new prompts go to Round 5.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Steve woke in a dank HYDRA lab that looked about the same as every other one he and the Commandos had destroyed thus far. Beeping monitors, beakers bubbling with sinister liquids in an array of bright colors, and various tables and gurneys with thick restraints. Steve was chained with his back against a stone wall, his arms stretched uncomfortably taut over his head and secured at the wrists. There were two other shackles for his feet, flat against the floor, and as he struggled automatically he could tell that there was something off. He felt sluggish and heavy, and he chains merely rattled impotently with his attempts to break them. He was surprised that he was still in his Captain America uniform, disarmed and unmasked, but otherwise clothed right down to his boots. It was disconcerting, especially when his eyes focused in the gloom and he saw Bucky similarly chained to a wall about fifteen feet away on the opposite side of the lab. Bucky was completely naked, and foreboding twisted in Steve’s gut. A thousand ideas that were too horrible to put into words.

“Bucky?”

Steve’s voice was softer than he’d intended, and raspy, but Bucky’s head whipped up to look at him.

“Steve,” there was dull fear in Bucky’s tone, but a defiant jut to his chin that allayed Steve’s fears somewhat. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Steve’s voice cracked, then returned to normal. “I think they injected me with something. Can’t break free.”

“Yeah, there’ve been a few guys in and out of here for the past couple hours. They keep shooting something into your neck. Once outside, twice since we’ve been in here.”

Steve opened his mouth to ask another question, but closed it when a door to his left opened and five HYDRA guards, of uniform height and body-type, came through it. They were led by a silver-haired man in a white lab coat.

“That’s enough from both of you,” the older man spoke with a thick German accent. “It is our turn to talk.”

“Fuck you,” Bucky spat, making the older man focus his attention on him. “We don’t take orders from shit-fucking HYDRA scum.”

The man gestured at Bucky with his head and a guard came forward, jabbing the butt of his rifle into Bucky’s stomach. Bucky made a small, pained noise and his chains clinked as he unsuccessfully tried to double over.

“Hey!”

Steve cried out. He couldn’t help it. He was ignored.

“Einmal mehr.”

The older man ordered cooly. Steve’s German was lackluster to say the least, especially compared to Bucky’s, but he understood enough.

“No, leave him alone!”

The guard brought the rifle stock sharply up between Bucky’s legs, hitting him directly in the balls. The noise Bucky made this time was louder and higher, his eyes bulging with surprised pain, but he managed to choke down the yell. Bucky panted raggedly as he futilely twisted his body to find some relief from the pain, but he glared daggers at the guard through it all.

“Stop it!”

Steve bellowed. The older man held up his gloved fist.

“Halten,” he directed the guard before he turned to Steve. “You would do well to shut your mouth, Captain America. For your friend’s sake.”

“Why’s that? You don’t wanna talk to me?”

Steve looked petulantly at the HYDRA commander, probably a doctor or scientist of some kind, while keeping Bucky in his periphery to make sure the guards didn’t harm him further. He wanted to keep this man’s attention on himself rather than Bucky. He could take anything they dished out, even with the weakness they’d inflicted on his body.

“No, Captain, I would very much like to talk to you. What I know is that you cannot be persuaded to talk on your own account. This is why it is fortunate you brought a friend with you.”

Steve gaped at him for a moment, understanding the implications but not wanting to understand them. Bucky understood them, too, and a new fire gleamed in his eyes.

“I ain’t gonna talk either, Fritz,” Bucky snarled at the man’s back. “Do your goddamn worst to me!”

“Bucky, shut up!”

It was so strange, Steve marveled, briefly drawn out of the crisis at hand. It was so strange how much their roles had reversed since he’d become Captain America, and wasn’t that his fault? Bucky had as much to prove to Steve now as Steve had always had to prove to the whole world, not two years ago. It wasn’t that Bucky was completely reckless, but his usual level-headedness flew out the window whenever Steve was involved.

“We will, Sergeant Barnes,” the man raised his voice to Bucky without looking away from Steve, and Steve saw Bucky shudder, imperceptible to anyone but him. “We will do our worst, don’t you worry.”

“Leave him alone,” Steve’s voice was the low rumble of thunder threatening the impending rain. “Hurt me instead.”

“We will, Captain,” the man promised with a small smile. “We will hurt you the only way we really can.”

“I’ll kill you,” Steve growled as the man turned and began to walk slowly, menacingly across the room toward Bucky. “I’ll fucking kill you if you lay another finger on him!”

The man didn’t stop or respond, and Steve despaired. They’d definitely missed their radio check-in with Colonel Phillips, which meant someone would be on the way to this location, but not soon enough to stop whatever was about to happen. All he could do was try and stall.

“What do you want to know?”

That stopped the man’s advance. He looked over his shoulder at Steve, calculating.

“Nothing you would tell me without persuasion, Captain, but I’ll play along. I know the rest of your friends are on their way here as we speak, ready to wipe this facility off the map like all the others. I will either be dead soon, or I will wish I were dead when the Skull gets his hands on me later. The only thing that may save my life is information, so I will do whatever I must to obtain it.”

“So, what information do you want?”

“Steve, don’t you dare!”

He wondered if Bucky thought Steve would really give this man anything. He wouldn’t, though a small, selfish part of him wished he could.

“I want the usual information, of course, Captain,” the man requested evenly. “Names, dates, locations, battle plans. But first, tell me about Howard Stark’s research.”

Steve’s heart clenched. He knew exactly what the man wanted from him.

“What about it?”

“Steve, no!”

Bucky’s chains rattled again, but both Steve and the man ignored him.

“What has he made recently? What discoveries from the HYDRA technology you’ve apprehended for him? How close is he to cracking Erskine’s formula and creating more?”

Lies sprang to Steve’s lips, but before he could even try to pass them off as truth he saw the cold fury in the man’s gaze.

“Do not bother, Captain. I knew you would attempt to lie to me. I knew you would not be easily persuaded. You will watch for a while as I use your friend to persuade you, and then we will talk again.

Garde, narkotisieren der Kapitän!”

“No!”

Steve screamed and fought as two guards came forward and jammed the barrel of a dosing gun against his neck. It hurt, but the wave of weakness that washed over him was far worse than the pain. He could barely hold himself upright for a minute, sagging against the chains as he helplessly watched the silver-haired man direct three guards to beat Bucky with their rifles. Steve tried to scream again, but his speech was faint and slurred.

Bucky bore the assault admirably. He didn’t cry out once, though by the end of the beating he was pale and trembling, sagging against his chains even more than Steve. His body was a sea of bruises, on his thighs, chest, and sides. The HYDRA higher-up’s orders had apparently limited the sites of the guard’s attacks, as Bucky’s stomach, groin, and face were unmarred. Steve knew better than to hope those restrictions would last long. He prayed to the God he’d stopped believing in when he was ten years old that their reinforcements would arrive soon.

One of the guards asked a question, revealing the older man’s name to be Dr. Mayr, and the doctor answered it brusquely. The guards unshackled Bucky from the wall and he fell to the floor with a groan while they laughed at him. One of them aimed a kick at his exposed side, causing Bucky to gasp and curl himself protectively on the ground. Steve discovered his voice was working again.

“Leave him the fuck alone!”

“I do not believe that you are ready to give me what I want yet, Captain,” Dr. Mayr said. “A little more persuasion is in order. Beeile dich!”

The guards hauled Bucky to his feet and chained him to the wall once more. This time he was facing it, his arms stretched overhead and feet secured to the floor, his back presented to his torturers.

“Don’t,” Steve pleaded as he saw the cruel bullwhip being passed to one of the guards. “Don’t do this.”

Bucky flinched when the guard cracked the whip by his ear, but it took five lashes before he made any noise. Steve counted fifteen before Bucky cried out fully, but after that his screams got louder and longer.

“Stop!”

Steve shouted intermittently with tears of frustration stinging his eyes.

“Stop it!”

It was all he could do.

“Genug!”

Mayr halted the flogging at twenty-nine lashes. Bucky was a mess of bleeding lacerations from his shoulders down to the curve of his buttocks. He was sagging against his chains again, breathing heavily as he shook, but he made no other noise and Steve was fiercely proud of his strength.

“Are you ready to talk to me, Captain?”

“Yes,” Steve said flatly, even as he knew the doctor would see right through his lie. “There’s a- a weapon that Stark’s been working on. Like those disintegration rays your people have, but more, uh, painful.”

“Steve,” Bucky groaned at the wall, his legs straightening in their restraints. “Steve, don’t- don’t tell him anything- ”

“Bestrafe ihn.”

One of the guards hit Bucky over the head with his rifle. Not enough to knock him unconscious, but enough that his body slumped in his chains once more.

“Stop! I’m giving you what you want, leave him out of this!”

Dr. Mayr sneered at him, shaking his head mockingly.

“You’re lying to me again, Captain. It’s most disappointing. We do not have much time left, and yet you insist on lying to me. What if I shoot the Sergeant in the head right now, hmm? If you don’t give me what I want?”

Mayr barked out an order and one of the guards pulled out his sidearm and leveled it against the back of Bucky’s head. Bucky didn’t seem to respond, but Steve felt his eyes widen and his face drain of color. It was so foolish of him, bringing Bucky into battle with him. They’d talked about the possibility of something like this happening, but in his youthfully amorous arrogance Steve had never considered all the implications of fighting alongside the love of your life in a war. It was happening now for real, and he couldn’t let Bucky die. He couldn’t. He’d sacrifice everything he believed- everything he’d thought he believed- if it meant he didn’t have to see Bucky’s brains splattered on the wall in front of him-

“No,” he begged in a choked whisper. “Please.”

Mayr considered Steve for an unbearably long moment. Then his wrinkled face broke out into the ugliest smile Steve had ever seen, the Red Skull included, and he laughed. He laughed, loud and long, enough that his own men began to give each other furtive looks from beneath their masks.

“But this is too rich,” Mayr wheezed out between cackles. “I never thought the rumors were true. Captain Steve Rogers and his best little friend, secret homosexuals. I’ll bet he wraps those pouty lips around your American cock and makes you see heaven, doesn’t he, Captain?”

“What- ” Steve feebly attempted to deflect. “What are you talking about? I’m not- we never- ”

“You are a bad liar, Captain,” Mayr looked at him with amusement and disgust. “Ugh, I don’t even want to think about what you two get up to together. However, it does mean I have been going about this all wrong.”

He took a step back from Steve and issued another command in German. The guard threatening Bucky lowered his weapon and moved away. Steve’s chest heaved with relief, even as he dreaded what would happen next.

“I suppose if I kill him, I will have no more leverage against you,” Mayr mused. “Oh, and it’s almost time for another dose!”

After the drug was administered, and Steve struggled to keep his head from lolling against his chest, Mayr had the guards unchain Bucky from the wall and drag him to one of the tables, about five feet in front of Steve. They tied him facedown on it, forcing his neck to the side so he was facing Steve. Bucky stared at Steve with empty eyes, and Steve felt his heart break.

“Interesting.”

Mayr ran his right forefinger along Bucky’s back, eliciting a shiver from Bucky as Steve attempted to shout at the doctor to get your fucking hands off him!

“Your little friend heals very quickly, doesn’t he? Most interesting- ”

Steve wasn’t sure what the man was talking about, but he couldn’t say anything regardless.

“Verletze ihn. Mit der waffe.”

Steve didn’t understand, but Bucky began to struggle at the command, eyes widening as he looked at Steve. All five guards chuckled and shifted uncomfortably, one of them finally coming up behind Bucky, brandishing his rifle. When he put a hand on the back of Bucky’s thigh, Bucky went crazy with his fight against the restraints, but it wasn’t until the guard began to poke the barrel of the rifle into the crack of Bucky’s ass that Steve figured it out.

Don’t you fucking dare! he tried to say, but it came out as unintelligible babbling from his slack mouth. Bucky was making little noises of protest as he continued to struggle, but the guard quickly found what he was looking for. He smirked as he looked to Dr. Mayr for the go-ahead.

“Nicht beschädigen,” Mayr said with a nod. “Tu es.”

Steve watched in horror as the guard shoved the rifle’s front sight inside Bucky. Bucky screamed, his body flying off the table to the extent of his restraints.

“Be careful, Sergeant,” Mayr commented neutrally. “It would be a pity if the gun were to go off right now.”

“Y-you b-bastard,” Steve mumbled as loudly and clearly as he could. “F-fucking b-bastard- I- I’ll k-kill you- ”

“You’re very talkative, Captain, but you say everything I don’t want and nothing that I do.”

“G-good- ”

Bucky had slumped flat against the table. He wasn’t screaming anymore, his mouth was a thin line of concentration, and his eyes were clenched as tightly as his shaking fists. The guard was still pushing the rifle into him, slowly getting more and more of the barrel inside. When the thick part where the barrel secured to the body began to make its way into his hole, Bucky let out an involuntary whimper. One of the other guards laughed harshly.

“Stop! Just stop,” the muscles in Steve’s mouth had returned to him. “Do whatever you want to me, but leave him alone.”

“Will you tell me what I need to know?”

“Steve, don’t,” Bucky didn’t open his eyes, but his voice was an angry growl. “I swear to Christ, Stevie, if you tell him anything I’ll never forgive you.”

Steve tore his eyes from Bucky’s ordeal to look at the doctor. The war inside him was as violent as any battle he’d ever seen. The torture was escalating, and he didn’t want to see what was worse than being raped by a gun. He didn’t want Bucky to have to go through anything more, but he couldn’t betray information. This was bigger than him, bigger than Bucky, bigger than them. This was treason. This was something he could never do. This was something he’d decided long ago, when he’d agreed to Erskine’s terms. When he’d chosen Captain America over everything. Even over Bucky, though the thought hadn’t occurred to him at the time. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t thought it through, he’d still made his choice.

Steve’s broken heart shattered when he saw Dr. Mayr’s acknowledgment of his silent answer.

“So be it,” Mayr sighed. “You’ll regret it, I promise you.”

“Not as much as you will,” Steve snarled, emboldened. “You’re scared of the Red Skull? You better pray he gets his deformed mitts on you before I do.”

Bucky began to laugh at that. A dry, hollow laugh that turned into a howl when the guard raping him rapidly shoved in another inch of wide wood and metal.

“And you,” Steve glowered at that guard. “I’m gonna take you apart one piece at a time. Less important pieces first, to make it last.”

The guard’s face was covered, so Steve couldn’t tell if he’d made an impression, but he thought he saw the man recoil slightly and he took grim satisfaction from that.

“James Barnes. Sergeant,” Bucky began to chant abruptly, overcome with the pain. “32557038. James Barnes. Sergeant. 32557038. James Barnes- ”

“Hör auf,” Mayr told the guard. “Herausziehen.”

The guard pulled the rifle out of Bucky, blood and shit smearing the barrel. Bucky never stopped chanting his name, rank, and number, though the cadence of his chant shifted with each spasm of pain the rifle delivered with its removal. He groaned with immense suffering when the metal ridge of the front sight ripped out of him, but Steve was relieved that it was finally over, even as he worried about the extent of Bucky’s internal injuries and what would be done to him next. The guard slapped Bucky on the ass, making him jolt and grunt. The guard made a kissy noise at Bucky before returning to stand with his compatriots. Steve seethed.

“It was a long shot, I will admit, getting you to talk,” Mayr seemed wistful. “But I got the great Captain America to beg, and that’s not something many other men can say. Not even Schmidt himself.”

“Let him go,” Steve could tell that Mayr liked the power he had over him, and he played into that. “Do whatever you want with me, but let him go.”

“No, I don’t think I will, Captain. I don’t think you’ve suffered enough.”

“Then make me suffer! Beat me, kill me, cut me open and figure out what makes me tick, but just- just let him go.”

“Steve, you fucking idiot,” Bucky moaned from the table, opening bleary eyes to glare at Steve. “You stupid little punk, don’t you dare sacrifice yourself for me.”

“Oh, both of you, shut up,” Mayr snapped impatiently.

“Fuck you,” Bucky responded.

“Make me,” Steve taunted the doctor a second after.

He knew as soon as the words left his mouth what a colossal mistake he’d made. Mayr paused, regarding Steve with unnerving scrutiny, then looking at Bucky where he lay glaring up at the HYDRA doctor, then looking back to Steve. A smile twisted the corner of his lips. A sadistic smile that sent chills down Steve’s spine.

“I think I will, Captain,” he said, dangerously soft. “I only regret that I must make my escape now before your other friends find what’s become of you and your paramour. Don’t worry, my men will take good care of you.”

“What- ?”

“Mannschaften, ich verlasse,” Mayr cut Steve off to address the guards, who all snapped to attention. “Kastrieren den Sergeanten. Gag der Kapitän mit die hoden. Genießen. Heil, Hydra!”

As the guards hailed HYDRA back to their superior, Steve could see Bucky trying to follow the German command. When he did, what little color remained in his face faded and his eyes bugged in horrified disbelief.

“What? No!”

“Goodbye, Sergeant. Enjoy your life as ein wallach. And goodbye, Captain America. Such a pleasure meeting you.”

“Oh God, no,” Bucky was on the verge of hyperventilating, trying to twist himself out of the restraints and off the table. “No, no, please, no.”

Steve was terrified and confused by Bucky’s reaction, but he focused on Mayr’s departure.

“We’ll meet again, doctor. I promise you.”

Dr. Mayr laughed and disappeared through the door from which he’d entered. The guards didn’t waste any time in following those final orders that were causing Bucky such distress. Despite the extent of his injuries, he didn’t stop thrashing and screaming as the guards unshackled him, rolling him over on his back on the same table and resecuring his arms and chest. Steve yelled at them the entire time, pulling ineffectually against his chains. He hoped beyond reason that the effects of Mayr’s drug would wear off before these goons remembered to redose him.

“Bekommen die steigbügel,” one of the guards ordered, and two other guards went to the other side of the lab.

“Bucky, what is it? What’s happening?”

Bucky looked at Steve, horror and shame on his face like Steve had never seen.

“Steve, fuck, they’re gonna- I can’t- I can’t- Oh fuck, Stevie, don’t let them- ”

The guards returned with a large, rolling contraption that attached to the end of the table and unfolded into a pair of medical stirrups. They wrestled Bucky’s legs into the stirrups, and though he kicked and fought, he was soon restrained with his legs spread wide, slightly elevated and bent at the knees. Steve hadn’t thought they would rape Bucky in the traditional sense, given the Nazi’s stance on homosexuality, but he couldn’t think of any other reason for Bucky to be in that position.

“Don’t you touch him!”

He had nothing else he could do. He watched a guard come forward with a straight razor and shaving cream. When he put a hand on Bucky’s inner left thigh, Bucky went ballistic.

“No!”

Steve was screaming right along with him when the guard grabbed Bucky by the balls and squeezed firmly. Bucky pounded his head back against the table in helpless frustration.

“Stop, American,” the guard instructed in broken English. “Do not move or I cut you by accident.”

“What are you gonna do?” Bucky asked with wide-eyed fear.

“Shave you. For surgery.”

“Oh God, no, oh God, oh- ”

“Hush,” the guard gave his balls a harder squeeze, making Bucky quiet and still. “I shave you now.”

Bucky nodded in defeat, chest heaving, and the guard released his balls. He sprayed shaving cream into his hand, applied it to the dark, thick hair on Bucky’s groin, and used the razor to shave it all off. Bucky trembled throughout, but didn’t move, and Steve choked on his anger and confusion in case his shouting distracted the guard, made him cut something other than hair. Steve shuddered at the thought, although a part of his mind was already putting two-and-two together. He knew what HYDRA was capable of, he’d seen firsthand. Things so much worse than- than-

When Bucky’s crotch was smooth and hairless, wiped clean with a wet cloth, the guard made way for another. This one had a device in his hand, like pliers with the thin tips of its four jaws pointing up. There was a black latex band fixed over those tips.

“Don’t do this to me,” Bucky panted in fear, his eyes rolling as he resumed his struggling. “Don’t you fucking do this to me!”

“What the fuck are you doing with that?”

Steve was panicking at how terrified Bucky was. Bucky was the strongest man he knew, and Steve had just witnessed him endure brutal torture. There were still bruises and cuts on his body, blood drying on his ass from being raped with a gun, and yet he was falling to pieces at the prospect of whatever that device was about to do to him.

They’re gonna cut his balls off, Steve finally admitted the horrible truth to himself, his stomach roiling. They’re gonna make him a- a eunuch, like we learned about in Sunday School, and he won’t be able to love me like before-

The other guards were holding Bucky steady, one on each arm and leg. The fifth guard squeezed the pliers’ handles, stretching the black rubber out into a rectangular opening. Bucky was screaming, one long, continuous howl that might have been the word no, and Steve was shouting threats and pleas at the man about to alter his lover beyond repair. The guard forced Bucky’s scrotum through the band’s opening, not gently, pulling down on the organs in their tight sac to position the band as close as possible to the place where Bucky’s balls connected to his body. Once he was satisfied, he rolled the rubber off the end of the prongs with a snap.

Bucky made a noise like he’d been punched in the stomach, his eyes impossibly wide. He gulped for air, then let out another scream, high and keening. His body jolted and thrashed, but between the restraints and the guards, he was held in place. His screams became undulating groans.

“Get that thing off him, now!”

“You know,” the guard told Bucky with a snicker. “If we leave band on, it cuts off blood supply to manhood and it shrivels and falls off in week or two.”

Bucky groaned, shaking his head from side to side.

“No, get it off, please- ”

The guard laughed at Bucky outright, pulling a Röhm dagger from his belt and brandishing it at Bucky, who followed its movement through the air with shining eyes.

“Do not worry, American. I keep my weapons very clean.”

He held Bucky’s balls in his left hand while he placed the edge of the dagger a few centimeters below the black band pinching Bucky’s scrotum from the underside of his limp cock. Bucky shuddered, a tear trickling down his cheek.

“Shame about your cock. It so small already, and soon it gets even smaller with no use. I am afraid the only hard cock in your future is the one I will thrust inside your pretty eunuch mouth.”

“No,” Bucky whispered, another tear following the first.

“No!” Steve bellowed as he saw the guard’s hand begin to move. “No!”

The dagger was sharp. It only took one pull to sever flesh and cords, the latex band keeping the bleeding to a minimum. Bucky screamed and convulsed, but quickly slumped unmoving against the table. His head lolled to the side, eyes streaming with silent tears as he looked right at Steve without seeing him. The guard held Bucky’s testicles aloft like a macabre prize, laughing, and Steve’s vision blurred with his own tears.

“Bucky, it’s alright,” he said, knowing his assurances were ridiculous. “It’s alright. I’m gonna get us out of here, and I’m gonna get you patched up, and I’m gonna kill every last one of these fucking Nazi butchers. I’m gonna rip them apart with my bare hands- ”

The guard with Bucky’s balls crowded into Steve’s space, surprising him into momentary stillness.

“You talk too much, Captain America.”

Steve opened his mouth to retort, preparing to headbutt the guard full in the face, but the guard surprised him again. His hand whipped up, shoving Bucky’s detached scrotum through Steve’s parted lips. Steve nearly retched, trying to dislodge the warm, bloody lump of skin and organs that had just been stolen from his lover, but another guard was already at his side, wrapping a strip of cloth between his teeth and around his head, securing the obscene gag in place. A second later, he felt the jab of the dosing gun in his neck, and his muscles betrayed him. Even as his body weakened, he forced himself not to puke. His mind was screaming at him, grief, anger, and guilt swirling together, and- and- Bucky’s balls are in my mouth! Oh God, oh fuck, they cut them off. They cut them off, and they’re in my mouth. They’re not between his legs anymore, they’re in my fucking mouth!

Thank you for your kind praise.

oh god, bucky ;A; my poor darling ;A;

can't wait to read what happens next!!!!

Oh God, such wonderful defiant!Steve! This was delicious. All the pain and pleasure, not wanting it but wanting it, and, of course tentacles... Mmm.

Wonderful fill!

Agent Stinson checks the GPS and the Asset watches him do it with the look of a man who's already seen a ton of crazy shit, then says 'the hell you got there?' I tell, him, in Russian, to shut the fuck up. Agent Stinson looks to me for guidance and I instruct him not to say anything. The Asset looks confused. He asks me for clarification. I tell him that he knows fucking well what I'm saying, and what I'm saying is shut the fuck up, in a language I fucking well know he speaks.

He looks me right in the eye and says, in Russian, 'I don't speak Russian. You got me confused with someone else, comrade.'

Agent Stinson says 'Next you'll be telling us you don't have a left arm.' The Asset freezes up, and I remind Agent Stinson that I told him not to say anything, for this exact reason.

I address the Asset, in English - I am his commanding officer, he is on mission, he most fucking certainly has a left arm and he is to obey orders given by the squad. He says he doesn’t understand. I ask him what year it is.

He says 1944.

At this point, I lose my temper. I approach him and shove him backwards - he retreats/falls into the main opening of the abandoned defence post. I ask him again what year it is. He says 1944. I ask him again. He says 1945. I yell at him, over his answers, demanding repeatedly that he tell me what year it is. He responds with 1939, then 1963, then 1950, then 2000, then 2020, then 1991, crawling further back into the space and becoming distressed. I come closer and he appears to break down, screaming at me 'I don't know, I don't know’. I stop yelling and smack him across the face. He is visibly shaking and says ‘I don’t know, sir. I’m sorry, sir.’ I kick him in the gut and tell him that he will be sorry.

Agent Rollins enters the doorway and informs me that I’m making way too much fucking noise. I apologise for that, and for flipping out. The Asset is using his right arm to shield his body and his left to drag himself closer to the back wall. Agent Rollins offers to stand guard while I take some time outside to cool down.

Approx. 1330, day 5. I assist Agents Stinson and Kawamura as we prepare to move out. Agent Rollins, inside the structure, requests that I pass him the Asset’s mask, so he can put it back on. A few minutes later, he returns with the Asset following and compliant.

He looks over at Jack, who is busy making more coffee.

I do not ask Agent Rollins what he did to get the Asset to fall in line. I still haven’t asked. I get the feeling the answer will be ‘what was necessary’ or some bullshit like that. Let’s be real here I don’t really want to know.

This part, this whole part right here:

I approach him and shove him backwards - he retreats/falls into the main opening of the abandoned defence post. I ask him again what year it is. He says 1944. I ask him again. He says 1945. I yell at him, over his answers, demanding repeatedly that he tell me what year it is. He responds with 1939, then 1963, then 1950, then 2000, then 2020, then 1991, crawling further back into the space and becoming distressed. I come closer and he appears to break down, screaming at me 'I don't know, I don't know’. I stop yelling and smack him across the face. He is visibly shaking and says ‘I don’t know, sir. I’m sorry, sir.’ I kick him in the gut and tell him that he will be sorry.

Holy shit, I love you. This is my jam! My moldy, disgusting jam.

OP here - thank you :3 *pours jam on floor and rolls around in it*
I will admit that this was one of the bits which made me almost reconsider the whole 'field report' format, because it might not come across properly - and it was such a vivid image, Rumlow yelling "What year is it?! What year is it?!" as Bucky tries to 1) get away and 2) give the right answer....

(the comments on this give me life in general, it warms my cold dead heart to think that people like it!)

(Author's note: I don't speak German. I've exclusively used Google Translate. Also, I think the first successful limb reattachment surgery was done in the 1960s, so the thought probably wouldn't have occurred to Steve. But hey, Howard Stark, superscience, and all that jazz!)
_____

Steve clung suddenly to the impossible hope that maybe Bucky’s balls could be reattached. He’d never heard of anything like that before, but Howard Stark was an undeniable genius. He’d made a flying car, surely he could figure out how to return this small piece of all-important flesh to where it belonged-

Steve lifted his head haltingly, tears drying with newfound resolve. Bucky hadn’t moved. He stared at Steve, chest heaving with quiet sobs, but his eyes and face were blank with shock. Steve was so focused on Bucky, he didn’t realize what the guards were up to until one of them positioned himself between the stirrups.

“Lassen sie uns sehen, was der Kapitän darüber mag, hmm?”

Steve could only watch in horrified rage as the guard between Bucky’s spread legs unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his trousers, and pulled everything halfway down his pale thighs, letting his thickening cock spring to freedom. He never removed his mask.

“This is not gay, of course,” he spoke to the room at large, but his use of English let Steve know it was meant to taunt him and Bucky. “Because this is not a man anymore.”

The guard rubbed something slick on his cock and pushed his way inside Bucky. Bucky barely reacted. Steve saw him tremble harder, his eyes widening, but he didn’t make a noise. He just continued his soft, ragged sobs as the guard’s thrusts made his body shake on the table. Every instinct in Steve told him to fight and yell, even if he knew it would do no good, but he resisted. He had to protect Bucky’s balls, bulging in his cheeks. He couldn’t harm them, he couldn’t bite down, because maybe they could be sewn back on. Maybe Bucky could be whole again, recover both physically and mentally from this hellish ordeal. Maybe he could love Steve the way he always had-

Steve knew he was being selfish, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to lose Bucky, he didn’t want Bucky to be lost, for his own sake as well as Bucky’s. He tried to hold Bucky’s gaze as the guard raped him. He tried to maneuver his weakened wrists from their chains. But Bucky’s stare was still so empty, so lacking in recognition of anything around him, and Steve’s escape attempts were as successful as his previous ones, and he could feel the living warmth of Bucky’s severed flesh in his mouth slowly cooling. He had another horrible thought. What if the guard’s movement on top of Bucky made the black band come loose where it held the jagged skin together underneath his cock? What if he was about to see Bucky bleed out, literally fucked to death by a HYDRA thug? And it would be Steve’s fault, because he’d chosen this. He’d chosen his duty and his country over his love, and he didn’t know whether that made him a good person or the worst.

Even if this didn’t kill Bucky, Steve also knew it was unlikely that either of them would get out of this alive. There were almost definitely two bullets set aside for Bucky and Steve’s heads, now that Dr. Mayr had abandoned the base. If those reinforcements didn’t arrive soon-

Steve selfishly wanted to go first, but he knew they would make him watch as they finished their destruction of the love of his life.

“Ja,” the guard inside Bucky panted, his strokes increasing. “Oh, ja, ja!”

Steve remembered the last time he’d been inside Bucky. In some wooded Italian countryside over the summer, Gabe covering for them. Steve had made love to Bucky against a tree, and Bucky had broken most of his fingernails down to the quick as he scrabbled and clutched against the unforgiving bark behind him, Steve’s mask clenched between Bucky’s teeth because Bucky had always been a screamer-

He didn’t want to think about that, not now, but the memory came regardless. Unbidden and unwelcome, it flashed behind Steve’s eyes as the guard grunted deeply in orgasm, fingers gripping Bucky’s thighs. Bucky sobbed and moaned, but he didn’t turn his head from Steve, and he still didn’t seem to recognize Steve either.

“Er bewegte sich nicht,” the guard said with mild disappointment as he pulled out. “Schande.”

“Ich werde ihn bewegen, a second guard pulled the first roughly out of his position before taking it himself. “Sieh und lern, kleinen schwanz.”

The first guard glowered angrily, pulling up his pants as the second man began undoing his. Steve had to watch the whole torture repeated. Bucky continued to sob, groaning softly, but the second guard failed to inspire any movement from him either, to the first guard’s spiteful delight. The second guard took longer. So much longer that about halfway through his turn, one of the guards waiting made an impatient noise in the back of his throat and began to unbutton his pants. He went to the top of the table, climbing up over Bucky’s head, and straddling his face. He forced Bucky’s face to look up at him, bent to whisper something in Bucky’s ear, and shoved his cock into Bucky’s slack mouth. Steve desperately wanted Bucky to fight back, to bite down on the man’s cock, but Bucky didn’t.

“We should keep you around,” the guard raping Bucky’s face said loudly, his cock buried in Bucky’s mouth, and his balls rolling over Bucky’s chin. “Our own little wallach sex slave.”

There was a murmur of consideration from the other men, and Steve’s heart lurched again.

“Yes, we keep you around while your body goes soft and weak without the balls. We let your hair grow out,” the guard ruffled Bucky’s short hair. “Like a woman. Other hair on chest and face will fall out. Maybe you get, uh, der busen like a woman, too. No, how do you say this? Uh, tits?”

Steve shuddered and reminded himself not to shout, not to bite down. Bucky’s balls were still lukewarm in his mouth, there could still be a chance. There had to be a chance-

The guard raping Bucky’s ass apparently enjoyed the other guard’s words. He came inside Bucky with a shout of pleasure, grinding himself against the wound between Bucky’s thighs. Bucky twitched and grimaced, and Steve thought he saw new horror in Bucky’s eyes at HYDRA’s vision of his future. The second guard pulled out from between Bucky’s legs and a third man took his place. Cut off one head, Steve thought with deranged jocularity. Cut off two balls, and-

He was almost sick again, but he held it back. Later. He could react later. Drool was leaking out the corners of his stuffed mouth, soaking the cloth holding Bucky’s balls inside, and he could feel them on his tongue. He’d had Bucky’s balls in his mouth before, under vastly different circumstances, gently sucking and cradling them with his tongue, tickling at the wiry hairs that had now been shaved off, making them draw up tight in their soft sac as Bucky moaned in pleasure above him. And now he held them just as gently in his mouth, cradling them with his tongue while he felt them dying. They were dying, dying, no, they were already dead and Steve was a fool for hoping-

The third guard forced his way inside Bucky, not bothering to use lubrication after his compatriots had slicked up the way for him. Steve heard him grumble in German about having to go after the other two. The final guard, the one who hadn’t had his turn yet, made a disparaging noise. Steve tried to find some distinguishing feature to tell the men apart, but except for a variance in cock size and body hair, he couldn’t. Their voices even sounded the same to him.

“We should cut off your tiny cock as well,” the man on Bucky’s face began to hump harder and faster. “Paint your face like whore, put you in skirt, make you proper woman.”

Bucky began to sob harder, muffled cries escaping from his mouth despite the girthy cock filling it. The cock’s owner groaned in satisfaction and threw his head back. White fluid leaked from the corners of his lips as he closed his eyes against the rush of tears, and his body shook in its restraints. Steve had never seen Bucky like this before, could never have imagined his strong, confident lover in this situation. He couldn’t stand it. All his life, Bucky had held him up, even when Steve’s physical strength came to match the vitality inside his heart. He didn’t want to lose that man. His man. His Bucky.

He heard gunfire echoing from outside the lab, and the flickering embers of hope in his chest roared into a blaze. They were here. Probably the Commandos, but if not, an elite group of Phillips’ men. Someone with medical training would be among them, and they would be able to reattach the tepid flesh Steve had protected, and he wouldn’t lose Bucky. He wouldn’t.

The guards were reacting to the sounds of combat beyond the door, the two mid-assault hastily scrambling off of Bucky and gathering their weapons while the other three took defensive positions. The lab’s door was kicked in, Dum Dum and Gabe entering a moment later, guns blazing at their enemies. The man who had raped Bucky’s face died first, his pants around his ankles, chest riddled with bullets. Jim, Monty, Jacques, and Peggy were through the door now, and their strafe took down the third rapist and the guard who had never gotten his chance with Bucky. The final two men hit the ground seconds later, and there was a silence as the smoke cleared, marred only by Bucky’s broken sobs.

(SA) I'm glad you're enjoying the comments! I'm enjoying this story, so... :D

Seriously though, that whole paragraph gave me chills and feels out the wazoo. The part that got to me the most was when he guessed "2020". Jesus.

Oh, Bucky.

(keep up the fabulous work!)

(Author) Thanks for the comment! I know, I break Bucky pretty viciously. More pain to follow...

oh my, oh my! I am completely undone author!anon

those poor boys :(

Eh, put it in the asset.

And by 'in the Asset' I do not mean he gets to eat it.

Honestly.. Inspired by my Halloween discovery of what happens if you shove marshmallows up your butt. Why TF would you do that you may ask? Friends, I do not know.

I do however want a crying Bucky terrified at this loss of control and the dehumanisation of being used as a trash can.. Or rather, a human dumpster.... I'll see myself out.

*descends into the fiery pits of hell like the human dumpster fire they are*

I'm super super into this prompt but I'm also very curious about what happens when you shove marshmallows up your butt.

Seconding both the prompt and that OP tells us what happens when you put marshmallows up your butt.

I LOVE THIS FILL AND I LOVE THE FORMAT.

For me at least, the vivid imagery is certainly coming through.

[SAD WHALE NOISES]

“Captain!”

Several of the Commandos called to him, but it was Peggy who got her bearings first. She called him by name as she hurried to his side to unbind him. Gabe quickly joined her on Steve’s other side, both supporting him when his arms came free and he faltered, slumping against the effects of the drug he’d been injected with. Peggy unchained his feet while Gabe untied the cloth around the back of his head.

“Oh, fuck,” Monty sounded shocked. “Oh fuck, Jim, get over here!”

Steve looked up to see a horrified Monty at Bucky’s side. He had been in the midst of undoing the restraints securing Bucky to the table, but he had halted after taking in the ruin between Bucky’s legs. Steve could see blood and come leaking out of Bucky’s ass, dripping over the edge of the table, and the nub of banded flesh where his balls should have been was starkly apparent. Jim Morita, the team’s medic, made his way to Monty’s side, with Dugan and Jacques close behind. They all gaped in dismay at what Monty had called Jim to see, their faces white. Jacques took a step backward, then turned and retched, puking on the bare stone floor.

“What the fuck? Where- where are his balls?”

Dum Dum asked with helpless oblivity. Steve saw Bucky’s wan cheeks flush with humiliation as he gulped on a sob.

“Steve,” Peggy said at his ear. “Steve, what happened?”

Steve realized he was free. The cloth was out of his mouth, and his chains were gone. He struggled heavily in Peggy and Gabe’s supportive grasp, and they let him go. He put his hand in front of his mouth, cupping it into a bowl. Gently, reverently, he spat Bucky’s detached scrotum into his trembling palm.

“Please, put them back,” Steve rasped, babbling, looking between Peggy and Gabe’s stricken faces. “It’s not too late. You can put them back. Please put them back.”

He directed his final plea to Jim, tears pricking his eyes as he held the bulging sac of flesh, glistening with his saliva, out towards their medic. Jim looked at it, wide-eyed. Jacques made a noise of distress, then turned again, bending and dry-heaving over the contents of his stomach he’d previously disgorged. Dum Dum looked as if he was struggling not to do the same.

“Fuck,” Monty breathed helplessly. “Fuck.”

“Steve,” Peggy said gently. “Steve, that’s impossible. We have to stabilize him and- ”

“Wait,” Jim held up his hand, and Peggy paused. “It- it might be possible. I’ve seen fingers reattached, right after they were severed. How- how long has it been?”

“I don’t- I don’t know.”

Steve tried to calculate the timetable. How long had it been since they’d been cut off? How long had it taken those men to mutilate and rape Bucky?

“Not more than an hour. Thirty minutes, maybe.”

“Jim,” Peggy said warningly. “I don’t think- ”

“Captain’s orders,” Jim said, decisively stubborn, extending his hand toward Steve. “Give ‘em here. I’ll try.”

Relief flooded through Steve as he staggered forward and gave the testicles to Morita, who took them with equal reverence and turned to take stock of the medical options available to him.

“Don’t unstrap him,” Jim ordered Monty and Dugan, who had begun to move toward Bucky again. “I don’t have enough morphine, or time to find more. This is gonna hurt him like hell.”

Steve gulped, nodding his understanding along with Falsworth and Dugan.

“Jones, here. Clean these off.”

Jim handed Bucky’s balls to Gabe, who had moved beside him to help. Gabe often served as Morita’s primary assistant during field surgeries.

“Monty, Jacques,” Jim continued. “Get the- the site cleaned up. Dugan, guard the door. If that’s alright, Captain?”

“Y-yeah,” Steve tried to inject a measure of authority into his voice. “Yes, what he said.”

The Commandos hastened to comply.

“Jim,” Peggy had also moved to Morita’s side, her face tight. “Jim, this is a monumentally bad idea.”

“Peggy,” Steve said flatly, and she looked at him. “Peggy, please- ”

He might outrank her, but her opinion meant the world to him. She was like the sister he’d never had. One of the only women, hell, the only people, who’d shown him interest and respect when he’d been small and sick. She’d told him that he reminded her of her own brother, dead in this War for many years, and as she looked at him her face melted.

“Steve, I don’t want you to get your hopes up. The success of this is unlikely, and it will be horrible to watch it happen.”

“She’s right,” Jim admitted reluctantly as he dug supplies out of his pack. “Like I said, I don’t have nearly enough morphine. Just one Syrette left.”

“And if- ” Peggy faltered. “If Jim can sew them back on, what if if doesn’t work? What if- what if they don’t take and they have to be removed again? What will that do to him, Steve?”

Steve glanced at where Bucky lay. Bucky was quiet, eyes closed, his body moving only with his shallow breaths. His sobs had abated, but despite his blood loss the flush in his cheeks had spread down to the tangle of hair on his chest. That hair Steve had lustily combed his fingers through for nearly ten years in their shared bed. That hair that might fall out and never grow back-

Steve couldn’t think about that. He couldn’t. This would work. It had to work.

“Please, Peggy,” he repeated helplessly. “Please.”

She nodded at him slowly, tight-lipped, her piece said. Morita was laying out his things on the table while Monty and Jack ran damp cloths between Bucky’s legs, cleaning him of blood and semen while he moaned weakly for them to stop. Peggy moved to Bucky’s head and began to gently wipe his lips clean from the evidence of his assault. Bucky began to tremble, and he made a small, devastated noise. Steve followed Peggy, feeling powerless. He looked to the door, at Dum Dum. Dugan’s back was to the scene, but his shoulders were tense as his arms held his rifle, and his head moved to scan the outer hall for danger.

“Ready, doc?”

Gabe was holding Bucky’s severed flesh, newly cleaned, ready to assist Jim.

“Hold him steady,” Jim warned Steve, Monty, and Jacques his voice hardening with focus. “This will be tricky, and he may fight me.”

A new exercise in torture ensued for Steve. A grim-faced Monty took Bucky’s left leg in its stirrup while Jacques, his face tinged with green, secured his right. Steve held Bucky’s shoulders down against the table, his heart pounding.

“No,” Bucky’s eyes widened and he spasmed when the Syrette’s hypodermic needle was inserted underneath the skin of his upper thigh. “No, no, no!”

“Bucky, shh,” Steve tried to soothe. “He’s gonna help you. I promise, he’s gonna help.”

“Steve? Steve, help me!”

“I am, Buck,” Steve choked on his sob. “I am.”

Morita was cutting the latex band, and blood flowed from between Bucky’s legs as Jim frantically asked Gabe for a clamp. Steve couldn’t watch any more, so fixated on Bucky’s face. On the scratchy stubble on his cheeks and chin. On the glow of mortification still tinting his upper body. Steve wanted to stroke his face, or kiss him, or do something to alleviate this trauma, even if he knew he never could entirely. He watched Bucky gasp and squirm from whatever was happening below, and Steve gritted his teeth.

“Steve,” Bucky’s eyes flew up, tears spilling from them as he stared pleadingly at Steve. “Help me. Please don’t let them do this to me.”

“Bucky, no. No, he’s helping you. I’m helping you.”

“Why are you doing this to me, Steve? Why are you letting them do this to me?”

Tears streamed down Steve’s face at the accusatory tone of Bucky’s voice. He stared up at Steve with utter betrayal, uncomprehending, and Steve didn’t know how to make him see.

(Author) Poor boys, indeed...

(Author) [COMFORTING WHALE NOISES(?)]

Oh god I'm so worried about Bucky. Please tell me that Steve will reassure Bucky of their eternal love :X

(But also: delicious rape scene for the win!!)

oh noes Bucky is feeling betrayed by Steve.... T_T

Thirding the prompt, and I also want to know but am afraid to Google....

Steve is kidnapped by Hydra for say a few months to a year, year-and-a-half, whatever.

Bucky is basically mostly recovered when the initial kidnapping happens and he and the rest of the team have been basically on the warpath trying to rescue Steve.
They finally catch a break and are able to recover Steve.

The thing is, that Bucky was bracing himself and almost prepared for Steve having been brutally tortured or brainwashed into being a murderbot (like him) but is 100000000% not prepared for the Steve they do rescue which is basically super brainwashed sex toy/party favor/whatever.

Because while the Asset was an important tool for violence - the Fist of Hydra, etc etc etc, Captain America has been a thorn in their side forever and its much more satisfying to debase him this way (plus his ass fetches a gr8 price in the criminal underworld)

anyway shock, horror, angst, and just Bucky being wrong trash savvy, but trying his best with what he has

bonuses:
+steve thinks his rescuers are his new masters/handlers
++this leads to him trying to "please" them in the way he has been trained
+++amnesiac!steve, i mean you know you're pretty fucked when its up to the winter soldier to remember shit

This prompt is amazing. Yes.

I bet Bucky had all kinds of plans for dealing with a murderbot WS-esque Steve - had thought, logistically, about how to convince that Steve that the best course of action is to come with them. Had drawn from his own experience and mindset as the WS to come up with a plan.

This Steve comes fairly easily when all is said and done - but I bet Bucky has no clue how to deal with him. :D

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Page 56 of 205

Dumpster #4: I Don't See How That's a Party

Fill: Undone (2/?)

Fill: Undone (3/?)

Re: Rumlow makes the Winter Soldier kill him

Re: Fill: Undone (3/?)

Re: Minifill: Steve - Beast/Tentacle Rape

Fill: Make Your Puppet Dance 8/?

Re: Fill: Make Your Puppet Dance 8/?

Re: Fill: Make Your Puppet Dance 8/?

Fill: Undone (4/?)

Re: Fill: Make Your Puppet Dance 8/?

Re: Fill: Undone (3/?)

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It's almost Christmas and we've still Halloween candy left!

Re: It's almost Christmas and we've still Halloween candy left!

Re: It's almost Christmas and we've still Halloween candy left!

Re: Fill: Make Your Puppet Dance 8/?

Re: Fill: Undone (4/?)

Fill: Undone (5/?)

Re: Fill: Undone (4/?)

Re: Fill: Undone (4/?)

Re: Fill: Undone (4/?)

Re: Fill: Undone (5/?)

Re: It's almost Christmas and we've still Halloween candy left!

trashwashed steve

Re: trashwashed steve