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.

[Rules in full] [Round 1] [Round 2] [Round 3] [Fill post] [Chatter post] [hydratrashmeme Pinboard archive (maintained by

greenkirtle)] [Round 4 in flat view (comments in non-threaded chronological order, most recent last)]

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

Rollins is not that much into sex. Putting penis in somebody is not worth all these required idiotic social rituals. Food/books/renovating old houses is much more easier and pleasant.
Rumlow is ALL into sex. So many people, not enough time. Add to this his height issues, rampant libido and masochism of "Double dare" type ("Whaddaya mean I won't do it? You fucker, flog me harder!") and you'll have a painful disaster.
Said painful disaster wakes Rollins each Saturday night/Sunday early morning, bruised, bleeding and fucked out. Rollins curses quietly and takes care of his stupid commander. Rumlow offers his gratitude. Rollins refuses.

Please, go as dirty as you want.

Oh wow, I disappear from the forum for a while and a fill appears! I am nearly certain that this was my prompt, but it's been so long and I've been so busy that I'm not 100% sure lol. Either way this fill is amazing!! I love Steve's fear and anxiety that Bucky doesn't like his new body, that Bucky only wanted him when he was small and weak and sick. It hurts so much in the best of ways. I also love the little clues we get towards Bucky's mindset. He clearly does want sex with Steve, or at least wants intimacy with Steve, but the trauma is too fresh and bright and painful. I love this, and I love you anon, for writing it. <3

Jack Rollins is a cocky little shit. He's barely out of his teens for fuck's sake, and he's the most junior member of the team, but that sure as hell doesn't stop him from acting like he's god's gift to STRIKE.

Nor do the usual disciplinary methods and punishments seem to work with him. He'll still be running his goddamned mouth even as he's being flogged bloody.

One day then, Rumlow snaps. He's had it up to here with this mouthy little fuck. He's got an idea for how he can put that mouth to better use, alright. Something that'll shut him up real fucking good...

(Feel free to pile on the degradation. Nudity, bondage, spider gags... How into this treatment Jack is, I'll leave entirely up to you)

Wanda bit back a pained yelp as she was thrown unceremoniously back into her cell, glaring up at her usual daytime guards as they stood outside the door, watching her. She took a long moment to wriggle herself into a sitting position, her back braced against the cot, aware of the two staring at her in contempt. That never boded well for her.

She pointedly ignored them as she forced herself to her feet, moving so she could sit on the thin, hard mattress instead of the cold concrete. When she next glanced up, the dark-haired one had stepped toward the bars.

"Overheard the General. Said you squealed for him. Clearly we weren't riding you hard enough when we asked you the same fucking questions, huh bitch?" he said, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Either that or she liked riding the General's dick a lot better than yours," the younger of the two sniggered. The dark-haired one threw him the bird in reply.

The two focused their attention on her once more, and she met their gazes with a glare. The dark-haired one leaned up against the glass, looking her over as he ran his tongue along his bottom lip.

"Wonder if the warden will ease up on us now that the little whore is out of information. Let us do some real damage for once."

"Not likely. Warden's finally got a bitch in here to fuck herself on, she won't want us killing her," the light-haired one muttered, sounding almost disappointed.

"I'm sure she wouldn't complain if we knocked a few teeth out. Less chance of biting. Besides, I like the way this one cries."

"Just smack her a few times. That usually does the trick."

"It's not the same."

Wanda turned her head away, focusing instead on the smooth fall of her hair, somewhat clean and untangled for the first time in a week. Her mood had been lifted a surprising amount by Secretary Ross' unexpected kindness, and despite the icy shock of being flung right back into her hell-hole of a prison cell, she was feeling better than she had been in days.

The aspirin was finally kicking in, and the unbearable aches across her whole body were dying back into a dull throb that she could almost ignore.

If it weren't for the two guards outside of her cell, trying to goad a reaction from her, she could almost curl up on the little cot and sleep peacefully.

The dull hiss of the door to her cell bay sliding open drew her attention, and Wanda glanced up as the warden entered the room, flanked by four guards.

Wanda went stiff on instinct.

"So what's the word? Can we break the little whore?" the dark-haired guard asked.

"Sorry, boys, this one's off limits."

"What?" the blond one yelped. "No fair!"

"Sorry," the warden gave him a shrug that wasn't apologetic in the least. "Ross said this one is his, special. If you're gonna use her, make sure you can clean it up afterwards. And do not damage her looks...it's the only thing the little bitch has going for her."

"How about her mouth?"

"I already told you worthless pricks, her mouth is mine. And you all know what happened to the last jackass who ignored that. You have three men upstairs with perfectly good mouths, if you've got balls enough to take them. A hole is a hole, and you can put a bag over their heads if you don't like their faces. Though Lang's pretty enough that you could probably put some lipstick on him and enjoy the blowjob."

A couple of the men snickered at that.

Wanda wanted to gag.

"So what's that mean for us?" the dark-haired guard asked, sending a sideways glance in at Wanda.

"It means don't make a mess of her. You're welcome to have your fun, just so long as you don't get her too filthy or break anything important. Don't cum inside of her, either. The General complained about the slop you all left behind. But you two are coming with me for now. We've got work to be done on the other prisoners. You two," she nodded at a pair of the guards that had followed her in. "Stay here and watch her."

With that the woman swept out of the room, Wanda's day guards following her with muttered complaints as the two she'd nodded at moved toward her cell.

The guards that the warden left in the room were familiar to her, but only in passing. They were usually posted up with her other teammates, although they would shift switches occasionally, if they "got tired of fucking ass and wanted some sweet pussy for a change," as she'd overheard.

Wanda did her best to shoot them a glare, hoping that they would take it as a warning rather than a challenge, but the men just sniggered and nudged one another, nodding in her direction like she was some small animal trying to be fierce and they thought it was adorable.

The cell bay door slid closed with a hiss, and the two were quick to open Wanda's cage and step inside.

She let out a little growl as they entered and the two smiled at one another again, their expressions making her feel sick.

"Still so fiery," the one by the door commented, making sure the glass behind them was sealed so she couldn't escape. Not that she would get very far.

The other guard, more heavyset than his companion, crossed the room to stand before her, cornering her on her little cot.

"I would'a sworn that they'd have broken it out of her by now, but apparently the newbies down here don't know the right way to treat a prisoner with attitude."

Wanda didn't get time to react before she was backhanded. The action was light - the man mindful not to damage her face after what the warden had said - but it was still enough to shock her into silence.

"There, that's better," the one by the door laughed. He took a moment to scratch his stubble, and Wanda had the fleeting thought that he might be considered attractive if it weren't for the sick smile across his face. "Second best way to shut a bitch up."

"So...you been spending some quality time with the General, huh?" the one closer to her asked, reaching out to flick her cheek. Wanda bit back a little snarl as she leaned away, glaring up into his chubby grin.

"Wonder if he filled her up with his cum to make sure she knew whose bitch she was?" the other one cackled. "Fucked her across that big fancy desk of his."

"I did hear her crying out from down the hall...Wanna check?"

Wanda snarled a little, trying to kick them away as they grabbed her ankles and dragged her from her cot to the floor, smashing her tailbone agonizingly against the tile and scraping her spine against the metal frame of the cot.

She let out an indignant cry as the one with the scruff hauled her pants down, and he looked up at her in surprise as she did.

"Huh...she didn't get zapped. He must'a turned off the shocker. Guess the guy wanted to hear her moan for him," he laughed.

"Just as well. I wanna hear this bitch scream for me," the heavyset guard muttered, moving so he was above her head and kneeling on her shoulders to pin her down.

Wanda tried to ram her head up into his crotch as the opportunity presented itself, but the man caught a hand around her neck and slammed her back into the concrete hard enough to daze her before she could.

"Dumb bitch, did you really think I would fall for that?"

Wanda yelped as she felt a hard slap connect between her legs, and the guard with the facial hair pried her knees apart with a laugh before striking her again.

"Better behave yourself, little witch. Or we'll come up with all kinds of horrible things to do to you and your friends."

Wanda forced herself to lie quiet and still as the man by her feet stripped her pants the rest of the way off, prodding at her labia for a second before using his thumbs to spread her open.

"Damn. Look how nice he cleaned her up."

"Yeah. She almost doesn't smell anymore."

"Awww, I found a band-aid."

Wanda yelped as she felt the bandage ripped unceremoniously from her tender thigh, biting her tongue in frustration as the men laughed.

"Man, I knew she had a sweet ass, but it looks like he practically pampered her. He must really like this one," the man above her said, grinding his crotch down onto her face as she squirmed.

"The dude's a General, he knows a top-grade weapon when he sees one," the other one muttered, plunging his finger into Wanda without warning and tearing a startled yelp from her throat. "Man, she feels tighter than I remember. Are we sure he even fucked her at all?"

"I told you, I heard her screaming. All the way down the hall."

"Remember what Mooney said about Lang? Putting the ginger paste up his ass to make him tighter? Maybe that's what Ross did to her. Lang certainly screamed for long enough."

She glared at the crotch of the man above her, biting her tongue to keep herself silent as she felt the thick digit wriggling haphazardly inside of her.

She jerked in pain as he poked at torn flesh, and the heavyset man above her pressed his hand more firmly around her neck to keep her in place, turning her breath into little wheezes.

"Aww, does that hurt, little whore?" the man at her feet cackled. "That's what you get for jumping the dick of every man in the place."

Wanda let out a little breath in relief as she felt him finally withdraw his finger, but the relief was short-lived. A slap across her spread opening was enough to make her cry out, and the two pinned her down more firmly as she tried to struggle.

"Did you like taking the General's wrinkly old dick, little whore?" the man at her feet asked, giving her crotch another sharp slap.

"Bet she did, if only cause he was small enough that she didn't feel it go in," the other one laughed.

"Nah, this one likes it when you stretch her out. I've got half a mind to get a bunch of thumb tacks from the supply closet and see how many boxes worth of them we can fit inside of her before she pops."

"I don't think the warden would go for that. What if we lost some?"

"Dude, I would pay to see the General get a tack up his dick while fucking the little bitch. That would be gold."

"That scenario would also wind up with us dead, or worse."

"Yeah...maybe just a bunch of ice cubes. Lock them up inside her with a chastity belt and let 'em melt away on their own."

"Or a plug," the heavy one panted, grinding his half-chub into her face once more. "Make sure all that water stays stuffed up inside her. 'Clean her out' or whatever the Warden was saying."

"I'm game for that. Let me get the ice. You prep the bitch."

Wanda let out a cry as she felt the heavyset one rock his weight onto her more firmly, but before she could protest he had sat down on her face, crushing her painfully beneath him.

Wanda couldn't even hear the other man leave.

For a long moment the remaining guard plunged his fingers into her, two at a time and working up to three, as he ground his clothed equipment against her face, trying to rub off.

Now that the guard's crotch was pressed fully over her nose, she could pick up the sweaty, musty stink of his balls through the fabric, and it made her gag. The man must have felt her, however, because he leaned forward, grabbing up her knees, and hauled her legs back toward him.

"Who the hell said you got to comment, tramp?" his muffled voice snapped, irritated. A second later she felt him slap her between the legs the same way the other man had. "I'll teach you..."

Wanda was helpless to do anything as he smacked her clit over and over, sending jolts of pain up through her body.

Thankfully the torment didn't last too long, although her crotch was throbbing by the time he was satisfied.

She took a sharp gasp of breath as the heavyset guard finally got off her face, and blinked her vision clear in time to see the other guard return, a bucket in one hand and a large silicon plug with a harness attached to the bottom in the other.

Wanda didn't get a chance to react before she felt a sharp tug on her hair, and had her head yanked down to thump against the concrete once more, the heavier guard's hand fisted in her hair.

She could hear the returning man moving toward her, and she tried to clamp her knees shut only to have them pried open, pinned down by the guard's thighs as he hooked his legs over hers.

"Excited to see me, little bitch?" he asked, and Wanda had to bite back a scream as he flicked her clit. "Ooh, sensitive?"

"Had to give the little whore a spanking. She was acting up," the heavyset guard growled, twisting his hand a bit so her hair was pulling painfully, making her eyes water. She heard the shift of ice in the bucket, and gasped in shock as she felt something searingly cold against her.

"Feeling a bit hot down there?" the man with the stubble asked, rubbing an ice cube up and down over her lower lips, and Wanda tried to choke back a little whine. "Let's help you cool it off a bit, then."

The ice cube slid into her with surprising ease, and Wanda yelped at the sudden cold, her muscles spasming around it. After a second of adjustment, though, it wasn't too bad, and actually felt rather nice against the burn of the torn flesh inside her. She managed to bite her tongue as the man fished out another ice cube and slipped it into her, keeping quiet as he pressed three, four, five of them into her. When he pushed a sixth and seventh ice cube in without slowing his pace, however, Wanda started to squirm. She could feel the pressure of the ice cubes filling her, the cold moving from bearable toward something unpleasant as her inner muscles got chilled and began seizing up.

By the time he'd managed to push fifteen of them into her she was squirming in discomfort, her whole body shivering from the sudden temperature drop.

The ice was quick to completely numb her inside, a small mercy considering all of the pointed edges and oddly shaped lumps that were being stuffed into her, but it did nothing to the awful feeling of stretching. It ached and burned and made her want to shudder all at once, the feeling both incredibly uncomfortable and a little arousing, due to her brain trying to trigger some kind of pleasure sensor to cope with being so filled. There was barely a dent in the bucket of ice the man had brought, and Wanda tried to twist free of his grip as he shoved number twenty inside of her.

"What's wrong, little bitch? Feeling a bit full?" the man laughed, beginning to cram another chunk of ice inside of her. "You look like you're not having as much fun as I am."

"Wonder if the warden would still be pissed if we made her deep-throat some ice cubes?" the heavier guard commented.

"Good luck not getting your fingers bit off. She's just as wild as the others are once you get her riled up enough. And I'll bet she's feeling pretty uncomfortable right now..."

Wanda let out a sharp cry as the man rubbed her belly, causing all of the ice inside her to jostle and grind. He laughed at her reaction, stuffing another piece of ice into her as she felt liquid drip over her thighs and onto the ground.

"Here, let her head up. She seems eager to see what's going on," stubble said, and Wanda suddenly found her head hauled up by her hair.

The angle hurt her neck almost as badly as the sharp pressure on her scalp, but now she could clearly see what the other guard was doing.

Her belly was already starting to look a little rounded, her legs trembling where the other man had them pinned, and her skin was covered in goosebumps from the cold shock.

The place where they'd torn her the other day was completely numbed beyond feeling, however it must have opened back up again with the stretching, as she could see a little trickle of reddish water leaking from her onto the floor.

"You look good with your belly all distended like that," the heavy one snickered, giving her a poke.

Wanda bit a curse at them in Russian, and the heavier guard merely laughed while the man at her feet responded by fishing out another chunk of ice.

"Gonna stuff you till you look pregnant," he said through gritted teeth, forcing another ice cube to jostle in between the others, and Wanda let out a sob.

"You're not gonna have room for the plug," the chunky one muttered as the other guard began wedging another piece of ice into her.

"I'll make room."

"Warden doesn't want her messed up, remember?"

"Ah, fuck. Yeah, I guess we'll plug her after this one. Don't want to tear her up too bad. Yet."

Wanda couldn't help her whine of pain as he gave a final firm shove to the ice, lodging it inside of her. A second later, she felt him press something that could only be the plug - room-temperature and rounded, flaring out sharply from the tip - to her opening, the sharp movement of ice within her making her shudder.

Inch by inch the man stuffed the plug in, the movement pressing all of the ice up against her cervix, and Wanda let out a wail as he forced the widest part inside of her.

A second later he'd seated it to his satisfaction, leaving Wanda panting in agony as she was stretched unbearably wide from within. The motion of the man threading the harness around her legs and waist didn't even register until the two began to draw the straps taut.

Wanda cried out, thrashing weakly to get away, but the men just pinned her down and smacked at her crotch and belly until she was still.

"Latch it good and tight around her waist. I don't want her struggling her way out of this," the one with the stubble growled.

"Not a problem."

Wanda choked out a sob as the men hauled on the straps, crushing the breath from her, and didn't even have time to recover as the scruffy guard slipped a lock through the belt and snapped it shut.

Trapping her in the harness.

Wanda had a moment to lay on the floor in shock and agony, gasping for breath as the two men got to their feet and looked her over in satisfaction.

Then the one with the facial hair was grabbing her by the straps of her straitjacket, hauling her back across the floor. She could only manage a little whimper of pain as she was hefted upright, even the little extra push against the plug causing the ice to press against her in all the wrong ways. The guard parted her legs with a few sharp kicks to her thighs, and smacked her across the face when she tried to draw them back together again.

"Keep your legs open wide, and don't move," he ordered, pinning her back against the wall hard enough to knock the breath from her. "I wanna watch you suffer through this for the rest of my shift."

With that he gave her one final little shove, then he stood and left the cell without another word.

Wanda blinked her tears from her vision for just long enough to see the glass slide back into place across the front of her cell and the two men take up their posts on either side of it, the heavier one shamelessly jacking off as he looked in at her hungrily.

And as the men stood out in the holding area, leaving Wanda stuffed full and on display in her cell, all she could do was shiver and cry, praying that the ice would melt quickly.

[DISTRESSED, UNHAPPY WHALE NOISES]

The room is dark when Steve opens the door, but he senses Bucky sitting there, on his bed. Steve closes the door behind him and locks it. His heart is beating hard enough to rival Bucky’s. He wants to grab Bucky, shake him, demand to know why he didn’t tell him. He wants to cling to Bucky, hold him, never let him go.

He can’t do either.

“I wanna try again,” Bucky says steadily. “Let’s try again.”

Steve turns on the lamp. Bucky is naked, his clothes in a heap on the floor. His skin smells of the soap the villagers gave them all to wash with before the festivities. Bucky twitches with the sudden rush of light.

“No,” Steve decides, although his cock swells with anticipation. “Not your way. It’s my turn.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Bucky stands, hiding his unease with bravado. Steve hasn’t seen Bucky naked in over a year. He wants to touch him.

“You first, Buck. I wanna make you feel good.”

Steve drops to his knees, looking up at Bucky. Letting him choose whether or not to cross the space between them. He feels guilty, that he knows. He wants to make it up to Bucky.

Bucky stares down at him, his face unreadable. Steve studies his body in the light. Bucky’s as broad as he ever was, but Steve can see Bucky’s ribs underneath his skin. He can see the scars that weren’t there before. Scars on the inside of his thighs, and higher. Scars where a knife might be pressed to motivate a man to cooperate with something he otherwise wouldn’t.

Steve shudders and looks back up to Bucky’s face. Bucky glares defiantly, daring Steve to ask. Steve never would. Now he doesn’t have to.

He looks away from Bucky’s ire, down again. Bucky is soft. His balls hang low from the underside of his dangling cock, framed in a snarl of dark hair. Steve wants to bury his face there. He wants to feel Bucky’s cock harden in his mouth and hear Bucky moan with pleasure above him. He wants to make Bucky remember. Remember Steve, and remember himself. Remember them.

Bucky takes a step toward Steve.

“Me, then you?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees easily. “You, then me.”

Bucky takes another step forward. Steve clasps his hands behind his back. He’s not going to ruin it this time.

“Don’t move.”

Bucky goes to turn off the light. Steve doesn’t move, but his heart races with excitement. He’s never successfully brought Bucky to completion with his mouth. It was too hard to breathe, with his old body. Now he can, with this new body that’s been good for everything except what he wants most.

Bucky’s cock remains soft when he returns to stand in front of Steve in the darkness. It’s soft when Steve begins to lick and suck all around it, teasing like Bucky used to tease him. He kisses the insides of Bucky’s thighs. He kisses up the scars, as high as they go, to Bucky’s perineum and the underside of his scrotum. Bucky’s skin shivers, his heart pounds, but he doesn’t tell Steve to stop. Steve so badly wants to touch him with more than his mouth, but his hands stay behind his back.

Slowly, he feels Bucky’s balls start to draw up, sac tightening as his cock fills and his breathing quickens. Steve decides to stop the tease.

“Never done this before,” he reminds Bucky. “Tell me if I should be doing something else, or whatever you need, okay?”

“You want me to tell you what to do, Captain?”

There’s more than a shadow of his old humor. Steve clings to it, as he’s unable to cling to Bucky.

“That’s an order, Sergeant.”

“Yes, sir.”

Steve can hear the smirk on Bucky’s face, and he clings to it. He clings to it as his lips encircle Bucky’s cock and he hears Bucky’s sharp intake of breath. He focuses his senses, and it’s exhilarating to hear Bucky’s heartbeat. To feel the blood rushing down through his veins. Bucky’s flesh thickens in Steve’s mouth and Steve experiments with his tongue, trying to mimic what he remembers Bucky doing with him. Bucky moans, low at first, rising higher. His hips thrust.

“Oh, God, yes,” Bucky gasps quietly. “Right there, Stevie. Right there, fuck, don’t stop.”

Steve doesn’t. He bobs his head on Bucky’s shaft, sucking and licking. He revels in the noises Bucky makes over his head. Breathy moans and ragged, panting whimpers of pleasure interspersed with his quiet instructions that Steve is happy to follow. Steve’s cock is very interested in what he’s hearing.

“Faster,” Bucky’s hands press insistently against the back of Steve’s head. “Please, faster.”

Steve goes faster. Bucky strangles a roar as he reaches his climax, thrusting into Steve’s mouth, clutching at Steve’s head. His essence is salty and bitter on Steve’s tongue. Steve swallows it all down. He can’t get enough. Bucky groans deeply with satisfaction. Steve can’t get enough of that, either. He's proud of himself.

“God,” Bucky says as he pulls himself out of Steve’s mouth. “Fuck, Steve.”

He’s panting from his exertion, but he sounds relieved. Content. It fills Steve with joy.

“Hey,” Bucky staggers back and sits heavily on the bed. “Come here.”

Steve stands and sheds his uniform. The Captain America costume joins Bucky’s blue jacket on the floor.

“Your turn,” Bucky says when Steve sits beside him on the bed. “I wanna make you feel good.”

Like old times. Except, it can never be like old times again.

“But, if we can’t,” Steve says, strong and steady in Bucky’s ear, because he understands now. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Bucky says with desperate anger. “It’s not okay.”

“Yes,” Steve assures him. “It is.”

Bucky’s heart is pounding. His skin shivers. Steve resists the urge to embrace him. He hates what Hydra’s done to Bucky, and he hates that their intimacy will forever be tainted by it.

“It’s not you,” Bucky lets out a shaky breath. “God, I know you think it’s you, but it’s not. It’s me.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve tells him, believing Bucky for the first time. “Whatever it is, we can get through it.”

“You’re gorgeous, and I love you,” Bucky says earnestly, a rush of words held back too long. The words Steve’s wanted to hear and believe. “I love you, no matter what. I love that you’re healthy and strong. I missed you, Steve.”

Bucky kisses him. Steve lets him take the lead, hands at his sides. He wants anything Bucky is willing to give him.

“I love you, too,” Steve pulls his mouth away to tell him. He can’t remember the last time he told Bucky that. “I love you so much, Buck.”

He feels Bucky shiver. Not with fear. With anticipation. Like old times. Bucky moves, sprawling face-down on the bed. Steve moves, hovering over him. He wants this, if Bucky wants this.

“You should put on a condom,” Bucky mumbles into the pillow. “For safety.”

They’d never used condoms, back in their apartment.

“I’ll take my chances,” Steve tells him. “I’m a superhuman, after all.”

He hears Bucky chuckle into the pillow.

“I’d feel better if you did. Just in case.”

Steve’s heart clenches. Not just because of the implications, but because Steve knows how he would have misinterpreted Bucky’s concerns, before. He reminds himself that it doesn’t matter now. He’s going to make it up to Bucky.

“Okay.”

Steve has condoms, and Vaseline. He rolls a condom on, greasing himself up. His slick fingers prod Bucky’s ass. He hears Bucky’s heart racing.

“We could do it the other way,” Steve offers. “You on top.”

“No,” Bucky growls into the pillow. “I want this.”

Steve wants it, too, no matter how much guilt he feels over that. His right forefinger breaches Bucky. Bucky gasps.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” Bucky insists. “Keep going.”

Steve adds a second finger. Bucky moans.

“Yes,” Bucky says in a different voice. “Yes.”

A third finger. Steve starts to hope.

“Please,” Bucky murmurs. “Please, Steve.”

Steve adds a fourth finger. Bucky moans again, humping himself against the bed, ready to go again. He feels ready, and Steve’s been ready for a long time. Too long.

“I want you, Buck,” Steve says breathily. “Tell me you want me, too.”

“I do,” Bucky says. “God, I do.”

Steve pulls his fingers out. He positions himself over Bucky. He starts to push himself inside.

Bucky’s heart jumps. He stifles a yell into the pillow, pulling himself away from Steve. Steve offers no resistance as Bucky rolls aside and curls in on himself, shielding himself as he shakes with fear. It hurts, but Steve knows why. He understands.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bucky growls. “I want you. I want you, why can’t I do this?”

“It’s okay,” Steve props himself up on one arm. “It’s okay.”

He knows. He understands. He’ll never tell Bucky.

“No, it’s not,” Bucky repeats, angry. With himself, Steve understands. Not with Steve. “It’s not.”

Steve says nothing more to assuage him. He’s told Bucky what he can. He doesn’t want to make Bucky shut down. Not after he’d managed to give Bucky a small respite of pleasure.

“Stay the night with me?”

He asks instead. Hoping. Even if nothing more happens, he wants Bucky in his bed. In his arms.

“No,” Bucky starts to get off the bed. “I gotta get back to my room.”

He’s right, Steve knows. It would be reckless, even with the locked door. No matter how much he wants it. He sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed as he listens to Bucky fumble for his clothes. He pulls the rubber off his softening cock. He knows Bucky thinks he doesn’t understand. He can never tell Bucky that he understands. That hurts in a different way.

“I love you,” Steve says softly when he hears the click of the lock. “No matter what.”

He can never tell Bucky, but he wants Bucky to understand he’s not angry. Not like before.

Bucky doesn’t respond. The door closes behind him, leaving Steve alone in the darkness.

Poor Wanda! At least she knows that help is on the way, however far off it might be at the moment. And her shock collar is deactivated for now.

That was a very inventive bit of torture on the part of the guards. I've played with ice before and one or two cubes is fun, but twenty plus a plug? Ouch!

Keep up the great work!

I'm glad that Steve knows what's going on with Bucky. Now that he knows, he can navigate these new parameters of their relationship better. Starting with the hands-free blowjob was a brilliant move on Steve's part.

Bucky still has a long ways to go to heal, but at least now Steve can be a help instead of a clueless obstacle.

Keep up the great work! Kudos!

Oh yay! I don't think I've ever read wartime!recovery before. It's so great!

O.M.G.

1) Thanks to you, I have the BIGGEST SHAMEBONER ever
2) Wow, what a great twist! I thought Wanda was safe and then this happens!
3) You, sir, write evil HYDRA so well. All of those off-hand remarks about what's happening to the other guys, too! GAH

I can't believe I actually let myself think she might be safe. I am blown away by the inventive cruelty. I tried just a few cubes once several years ago and the idea is both really shockingly terrible and omg I don't know what to do with this. I really don't. The plug. Wow.

So, thanks for that. This is quality stuff.

I was rereading this and suddenly had the mental image of HYDRA trying to get chastity belts and anal plugs delivered to a secret underwater prison. What address do you put in the online order form? Do you invoice this or not?

Does that use also include "cumbucket"? Or trashcan?

This is so good! Such an almost happy chapter, now that Steve really knows it isn't his fault, but there's still the specter of what did happen hanging over it all for Steve, and for the reader the extra knowledge that, no matter how far Bucky progresses in recovery with Steve here, he's going to fall off that train and get recaptured, and be retraumatized in so many ways. This is so painful, and so good.

I think I'd have to say no to trashcan, I'm afraid, and I'm on the fence about 'cumbucket'. Not against it, just undecided.

The lovely thing about the ashtray is that Jack just wouldn't see it coming, even once it became clear what way the situation was headed.

That said, I have no issues with cum in general, especially if it's Jack's own.

****If anyone here knows Russian and wants to correct what I got from Google Translate, it would be much appreciated. ****

Pierce smiled. Steve wanted to take a shower even more than he had before. “I’m glad you’re handling this so well, Captain. Perhaps, in time, we’ll see what else you can handle.”

It felt like a threat. Steve felt naked under his eyes. He shifted his own to the asset. The asset was watching the interaction with something a little cooler than patience or curiosity. It’s not Bucky, he reminded himself.

“It does better with blonds. No surprise, really. The assets’ pack leader was blond. And, to be frank, it’s already primed for you. It was trained to immerse itself in Barnes’ identity well enough to withstand scrutiny and questioning for weeks or however long it took to get close to its targets.”

Steve felt sick. The asset couldn’t be Bucky but he had definite Bucky-like qualities. It. It had.

“I’m getting old and it’s not always good for Rumlow,” Pierce admitted.

Rumlow just shrugged a little. “It’s a dream in the field. Post-op it can be a bit of a handful sometimes, but I can keep it it compliant enough to work with STRIKE.” The asset lowered its gaze to the concrete floor.

“And you think it would be good for me?”

“I think the asset would behave itself. I also think it would be good for you to have something to take care of. It’s a lot more portable than a succulent. I realize you’re uncomfortable with its conditioning and maintenance requirements, but you’d have plenty of support.”

He couldn’t help the grimace. It’s not Bucky. “I’ll… think about it, sir. Thank you.”

The asset raised its head again, a flicker of something on that face as it looked in Steve’s general direction without meeting his eyes.

“You want me to take Rogers with me when I turn it over to Tech?” Rumlow asked. The asset's bearing went tight and its expression dulled. It’s not Bucky. Steve got the impression it didn’t like Tech much, whoever or whatever that was.

Pierce studied Steve. He suspected he was showing too much on his face.

“No, not today,” he said and Steve had the definite sense he’d missed a knife to the gut. Another one.

It’s not Bucky.

Another smile that caused Steve guts to knot. “I’m happy you’re with us, Captain,” said Pierce. “Good day, gentlemen.”

Once he was gone, Rumlow snapped his fingers at the asset. It lifted its head immediately. There was no life in its Bucky-blue eyes. “You gonna stay good for us today, asset?”

It nodded.

“Introduce yourself to Captain Rogers. Properly.”

Steve shot him a wary look when it dropped to its knees. “Rumlow, you know I’m not…”

He spread his hands. “I heard you the first time, Cap. No funny business. Just let it talk.”

The asset blinked guileless clear eyes up at him. “Я - Зимний Солдат. Я существую, чтобы подражать человеку, James Barnes, и служить моим командирам.”

He didn’t understand the Russian beyond солдат, but he heard the name loud and clear and swallowed hard. His eyes burned. “I don’t know Russian.”

“I am Winter Soldier. I exist to serve my superiors. I can imitate James Barnes.” The words were soft, mostly toneless with just a hint of something to set it apart from a recorded message. He didn’t know what sort of voice he’d expected the asset to have, but it felt off. It tilted its head slightly. “Does it please you?”

“Get up, soldier,” he ordered roughly, unable to bear seeing it on its knees for a moment longer. He still felt sick. It rose in a smooth motion with its eyes still fixed on his while he struggled to think of anything else to say.

“Tell him, asset,” said Rumlow. “In English. You know what to say.”

“I exist to serve at the discretion of my superiors. If the Secretary permits, you may command me. Use me as you wish. I have the appearance of a man, but many times the fortitude. I do not fail. Pain means little to me. I am designed to be used.”

Its eyes went briefly to Rumlow, who nodded. “Come on, you know you’ve been dying for a chance to try out your full programming.” To Steve, he explained, “Carter retired before it could try playing Barnes for someone who knew him.”

“If the Winter Soldier is not to your taste, I can be Bucky Barnes for you, Captain.” There was a spark of… something in the statement, though it wasn’t quite an offer and Steve fought the urge to recoil as it repeated, “Does it please you?”

He flinched when Rumlow clapped him on the back. “Aw, look at that face, Cap. Give it some reassurance already.”

Steve’s jaw and tongue felt stiff and painful, but he forced himself to loosen them and say, “Yes. You please me. You did great on the mission today.” He knew that wasn’t what it had been asking. Rumlow raised his eyebrows at him, clearly expecting more and Steve fought back the tears he didn’t dare shed in front of them. “You… look just like him. Very convincing.”

At once, the asset’s face brightened into an expression Steve hadn’t seen since the last time he’d given Bucky his opinion on his efforts to prepare for an evening out.

It’s not Bucky, he told himself.

But it was hard to believe HYDRA could have taught the asset that expression.

Oops, that got totally out of order. I'd repost, but I don't want to clutter things.

“If the Winter Soldier is not to your taste, I can be Bucky Barnes for you, Captain.”
I'm offically dead.

Bucky is given a familiar choice between degrading himself and being rewarded with pleasure, and disobedience/punishment. But this time, both reward and punishment will be forced on Steve instead. Bucky knows only that he wants good things for Steve, and does his best.

(A!A) Sorry not sorry, thanks! Besides, I think we're mostly all ghosts here anyway. Fills on this site are dangerous. ;-)

The more I think about this, the more I realize that giving the Winter Soldier the cover identity of James Barnes makes an awful lot of sense. Hydra knew they couldn't eradicate Bucky's original self completely, so instead they used it, convincing him that he was a copy of James Barnes, rather than the original. Therefore, the Soldier would write off any errant James Barnes memories as things that Hydra had taught him. This would also nullify the potential for a CA:TWS-style breakdown. Hydra turned a failure point into an advantage. Brilliant.

And poor Steve, here. He is trying to believe the Winter Soldier is not Bucky, but he is already having doubts.
At once, the asset’s face brightened into an expression Steve hadn’t seen since the last time he’d given Bucky his opinion on his efforts to prepare for an evening out.
It’s not Bucky, he told himself.
But it was hard to believe HYDRA could have taught the asset that expression.
There is no one in the world who knows Bucky as well as Steve does, and from Steve's POV, those memories are still very, very fresh. I really hope Steve goes the route of testing just how well the Winter Soldier can play Bucky Barnes, if only to convince himself that the man before him truly is a copy, only to slowly realize that the Winter Soldier knows things that Hydra couldn't have possibly known about him and therefore couldn't have taught him, like the facial expression.

Keep up the great work! Kudos!

Hey, you know that prompt a while back about Murphy taking the Soldier home and the Soldier freaks out because Murphy doesn't abuse him right away? What if Pierce decided to reward Steve with 24 hours with this simulacrum of his dead best friend?

Oh, wow. This has some amazing trashy potential if the fill anon decides to go in this direction. :-)

The starting assumptions are a little different than the Murphy prompt, because Steve already has some idea about the trash. At the same time, if the Winter Soldier is in "Bucky Barnes" mode, will he be expecting trash? What did Hydra tell him about his relationship with Steve? What does the Soldier remember about his relationship with Steve?

Is Steve going to take advantage of the unsupervised and presumably unmonitored time with the Soldier to figure out for sure whether or not he's really Bucky? Take a detailed inventory of all of his scars and other marks? Recreate a favorite meal and see how he reacts?

This is an excellent idea.

(a!a) Okay, interesting idea. I was heading in another trashy direction involving chemical exposure and the asset's tech team, but now I'm having thoughts. Although, I'm not sure Pierce would take the risk? Then again, we know Steve's apartment is bugged so maybe...

I'll have to think about that. Other ideas are welcome!

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Page 94 of 205

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

Rollins/Rumlow, masochist Rumlow and unwilling Rollins

Re: Fill: Wrong (5/?)

Jack Rollins' mouth makes an excellent ashtray

Fill: There Is A Line (6/?)

Fill: There Is A Line (7/?)

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Re: Fill: Wrong (6/?)

Re: Fill: There Is A Line (7/?)

Re: Fill: Wrong (6/?)

Re: Fill: Wrong (6/?)

Re: Fill: There Is A Line (7/?)

Re: Fill: There Is A Line (7/?)

Re: Fill: There Is A Line (7/?)

Re: Jack Rollins' mouth makes an excellent ashtray

Re: Fill: Wrong (6/?)

Re: Jack Rollins' mouth makes an excellent ashtray

Fill 8/?: Undeniable Plausibility

Re: Fill 8/?: Undeniable Plausibility

Re: Fill 8/?: Undeniable Plausibility

Hydra/Steve and Hydra/Winter Soldier

Re: Fill 8/?: Undeniable Plausibility

Re: Fill 8/?: Undeniable Plausibility

Re: Fill 8/?: Undeniable Plausibility

Re: Fill 8/?: Undeniable Plausibility

Re: Fill 8/?: Undeniable Plausibility