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

[trashmod]

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.

Comments

Fill: There Is A Line (2/?)

[(Anonymous)]

Wanda focused on slowing down her breathing, her head spinning dizzily as her ribs strained against both the confines of the straitjacket and the pressure of her own arms, bound like a vice around her.

She could hear the door to Secretary Ross' office closing, followed by the dull snick of him throwing the lock, and she tried not to choke on her breath in panic as his footsteps approached her.

In her time here, the guards only ever brought her out of her cell for one thing.

Whether it was seeing how long they could hold her head underwater before she blacked out, or testing how far they could stretch her open before she tore, or stuffing her with something that was hot or abrasive or caustic, and seeing how long it took before she started crying - leaving the cell had only meant pain. Wanda didn't really expect this time to be any different.

She had apparently judged wrong, as fucking usual, on who to trust. Telling Ross that the prison was crawling with Hydra agents only worked if he wasn't one of them - something her brain hadn't even thought to register until he ordered her be brought to his office for "interrogation."

And now it was too late.

She knew what "interrogation" entailed, of course. He was going to punish her for trying to rat them out, to make sure she never tried it again. He was going to ask her how she knew they were Hydra, hurting her until she confessed something - anything - to make it stop, and then he was going to punish her for doing whatever she'd confessed.

Taking a slow breath, Wanda retreated into her head, bringing the Lagos news feeds to mind as the man came to a stop in front of her, and forcing the reporter's hateful words to play through her head.

"Eleven people are dead at the hands of the Avengers, following an incident earlier today-"

Wanda kept her gaze on the floor, trying to concentrate on the words. She had found it to be an escape or sorts, in her time here. She'd figured out that if she viewed the guard's brutality as her punishment for Lagos and the deaths she'd caused there, she could tolerate the abuse, and could even manage to bite back most of her cries. It felt like her suffering had a reason, or at least a reason besides "she was there and the guards were bored."

It felt like it could be something that she deserved.

This, of course, infuriated the guards, who beat her harder, gave her less preparation before they fucked her, and ramped the voltage up on the shock collar, trying to get her to break.

In response, she'd stopped fighting back her tears. She could stay silent through most of their abuse, preventing the collar from hurting her, but the tears seemed to give the men a kind of gleeful joy that usually prevented them from taking things much further than they had to in order to make her cry.

It was a compromise that she was more than willing to make.

Wanda took another slow breath as Secretary Ross paced to his desk, the man opening the top drawer to dig around for a long moment.

"What legal authority does an enhanced individual like Wanda Maximoff have to operate in Nigeria?" rang through her mind loud and clear, the images of the flaming hotel filling her head as she braced herself for the pain that was coming.

She deserved it, she reminded herself, trying to stay calm.

She was a monster, she deserved this. People were dead, and it was her fault.

Ross straightened up, a ball point pen in his hand, and began to walk back toward her.

Wanda went tense on instinct as her brain snapped focus to the man.

Would he stab her? Gouge out an eye? Fuck her with it until she bled? Or some new, creative use that the guards hadn't thought of yet?

Wanda tried to refocus her attention to the news feed, to force herself to be calm because struggling always made it so much worse, but she couldn't seem to drag her eyes from the older man as he leaned over top of her.

"...hold button for five seconds..." he was muttering, and Wanda scrambled to get to her feet as he reached for the collar, her panic getting the better of her. "Whoa, hey, calm down-"

Ross caught a strap on her straitjacket, tugging her back into the chair before she could even properly get her feet beneath her, and added a little pressure to keep her sitting. Wanda glanced up at him in terror, wondering vaguely if she would be able to wrench herself away from his hold.

The man's expression, however, was pitying.

"It's okay..." he murmured gently, lowering himself to a knee at her side. "I'm just gonna turn this off, so it doesn't shock you when you speak anymore...all right? Just stay still for a few seconds longer..."

She felt a little pressure as he poked the tip of the pen into the side of her shock collar, and she choked back a whimper. She knew what was happening. He was turning on that other mode, the one where it shocked her over any sound it picked up. Where she would be punished not only for crying out, but for the ringing bang of their batons on her cell floor and walls, the over-heavy stomps of their feet, their curses and jeers, the sound of their strikes as they hit her, the slap of flesh on flesh as they fucked her - giving her a shock with every shove deep into her abused passage, because they loved the way it made her muscles clench up around their dicks, made them cum so fast...

Her thoughts were jolted to a violent stop as she heard the collar beep a little.

"There."

Wanda jerked back instinctively as the man spoke, expecting to get shocked, but to her surprise there was no pain.

"It's okay, you're all right," he murmured, getting to his feet once more. "I turned it off. You should be able to talk now."

Wanda swallowed hard, her mind whirling. She could speak...?

She didn't even know what to say.

"Unfortunately I can't really loosen the straitjacket," Ross said, looking her over slowly before taking a step back. "They've got it all padlocked, and asking for the key would be far too suspicious..."

She watched him as he crossed back to the desk, putting the pen away.

Perhaps...perhaps she hadn't misjudged? Maybe he truly wasn't here to hurt her? He had asked her to trust him right before having her dragged up here...

She looked up, startled, as Ross knelt at her side once more, reaching out for her face.

"Poor thing..." he murmured, his fingers brushing gently over a scabbed cut on her cheek. "It's all right, you don't have to be afraid of me. I'm going to help you."

His finger ran slowly across her chapped, bleeding lips, and Wanda did her best not to cringe back. She wanted to trust him so badly...

"You thirsty?" he offered gently, and she nodded hard.

Ross turned, popping open the briefcase he'd been carrying, and retrieved a clear plastic bottle of water from inside of it.

"Thank you," she rasped, watching him open the bottle and making note in the back of her mind that she hadn't been shocked for the sound. He'd truly turned the awful collar off.

"Here you go," he murmured, tilting the rim at her lips, and Wanda ducked her head a little to increase the flow of water as she drank desperately, draining the bottle at a steady rate.

"Whoa, whoa, hey-"

Wanda choked on a gulp of water, coughing, and cringed away from Ross reflexively as he drew the water back.

"Slow down, kiddo. You drink that much water that fast you'll make yourself sick," he murmured.

Wanda glanced longingly after the half-full bottle of water as he moved to put it on his desk.

He was right, she knew. After so long without food or water, her stomach would reject a sudden input of too much liquid. But her thirst had finally gotten a taste of something that wasn't semen, or metallic-tasting water laced with sedatives, and her body was screaming at her to drink despite her mind's logic telling her to listen to Ross and wait.

The man must have noticed her pleading look, because he crossed back to her with something like pity in his expression.

"I'll give you some more in a bit, okay? Just make sure you can keep that down first. After being dehydrated, you've got to take it slow."

Wanda looked up at him in surprise.

"How did you...?"

"A guess," he shrugged, reaching out and gently stroking a hand through her hair, teasing knots loose as he went. "Your lips looked pretty dry. Were they depriving you of water?"

"They gave me water, but it had drugs in it," Wanda replied softly as he worked his fingers through another tuft of her hair, gently cleaning the crusted semen from it. "Going thirsty was better than letting them drug me."

"When did this start?"

"Yesterday. I... I think one of the guards was trying to get even with me, and wanted me drugged for whatever he had planned."

It was the only thing she could think of.

From the beginning, the warden had made it clear that she was the only one allowed to use Wanda's mouth as she pleased, and the guards were to keep their dicks out of her face because the warden didn't want cross contamination. One of the guards had rampantly ignored that, however, apparently taking sick pleasure out of undermining the warden's authority, and the other day Wanda had managed to think through the choking pain enough to trap some of the man's semen beneath her tongue when he'd tried to cum down her throat. It had been vile to keep such a bitter, sour fluid in her mouth for the next few hours until the night shift switched out, but it had been worth it when she was able to spit it across the warden's hairy lower lips and send the woman into a rage against the guard who had disobeyed her orders.

At least, until the guard had come in the next evening and beaten her bloody for her trouble.

Wanda shuddered a little at the thought, forcing it from her mind.

The feeling of Ross's hands running through her hair was soothing her a lot more than she thought it would, and Wanda allowed herself to relax into his touch as he gently picked another knot loose.

"The interrogation you mentioned," Ross started mildly. "When did that start?"

Wanda thought back, tilting her head slightly so Ross could get the awful crunchy patch of dried something from just behind her ear.

"I believe it was the evening on the day you left."

"And what kind of stuff were they trying to question you about?"

"Where the others were. How my powers worked. Where they could find my brother's body. What I knew about Hydra, and what secrets Dr. Strucker was keeping. Where the Winter Soldier was. Nothing I could truly tell them," she said with a little shrug, swallowing hard.

"Were all of your injuries from the interrogation?"

"No," she whispered, feeling a little self-conscious. "They...they would also come to my cell, to have fun, or because they were bored, or because they supposedly caught me doing something they didn't approve of on security camera. They would hurt me and punish me, and they would tell me to do horrible, filthy things for them. They said that if I fought, they would hurt me. That did not stop my fighting. So then they said if I cooperated...if I went quietly...they would not hurt the others. So I did. But the only feeling I've been getting from them since then is gleeful dishonesty, so I suspect my cooperation was for nothing."

"Yeah," Ross said quietly a moment later, his voice pained. "The others looked like hell too, so I'm pretty sure they've been lying to you about that."

Wanda closed her eyes and let her head hang, calling herself a fool for the thousandth time.

She felt the man finish up another little section of hair, running his fingers through it before lying it gently across her shoulder. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and Wanda glanced up at him, trying not to let her nerves get the better of her.

"You, ah...you said that they raped you...?"

Wanda winced, glancing away, and forced a little nod.

"Just once? Or repeatedly?" Ross' voice was gentle as he asked her, but there was an undertone of fury there.

"Repeat," she choked out. She felt the man's hand stroke over her head again, and glanced back up to meet his gaze.

"Did they...are you hurt?" Ross asked, nodding toward her hips, and Wanda cringed.

"They tore something," she whispered, bitterness lacing into her tone. "I'm not sure what, but it burns every time they fuck me."

"How bad?" he asked, his gentle voice cautious.

"I don't know. It feels very bad. It bled for a long time after they left."

Ross let out a slow sigh, his brows drawing in thought.

"I can't take you to medical, they're probably Hydra scum too. Bringing you to a hospital off site is way too suspicious..." he muttered to himself, fingers drumming on the arm of the chair. "Could try to bring a doctor in, but that'll take at least twenty-four hours..."

She blinked up at him in curiosity as he dragged a hand over his face, and a moment later the man glanced down at her with a tentative pity that sent something uneasy writhing in her stomach.

"I can...I can look at it, if you want. See if there's anything I can do...disinfect your wounds and get you cleaned up a bit," he offered hesitantly. "If you'd be comfortable with that."

Wanda looked away, taking a slow breath before she glanced back, a bitter smile tugging at her lips.

"Why not? Everyone else here has already seen me nude."

The man visibly cringed, disgust crossing his features.

"I'm gonna kill the fucking lot of them..."

Re: Fill: There Is A Line (2/?)

[(Anonymous)]

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