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

Pierce rapes the WS during a meeting as a power play

[(Anonymous)]

During a meeting of Hydra high muckity mucks, someone warily questions Pierce's ability to control the Asset, which is standing at ease in the room. Pierce decides to display his control over the Asset by bending it right over the table and fucking it in front of everyone while continuing the meeting. Everyone but Pierce is profoundly uncomfortable.

+++ variety of reactions: aroused, disgusted, envious, mixtures of these, etc!
+++ Pierce lording his dominance over the other attendees in a way bc he's forcing them to go on with their presentations, etc, despite the fact a guy's getting raped right there in the room
+++++ the Asset's noises (pain, pleasure, or both, your pick [but I like both]!) are a distraction

Re: Pierce rapes the WS during a meeting as a power play

[(Anonymous)]

+1; this is my preferred brand of trash

Fill: Off Script (Pierce rapes the WS during a meeting as a power play)

[(Anonymous)]

It’s Doug’s first time at one of these strategy meetings, but he already knows he belongs here. Looking around the conference table, he recognizes a member of Congress, two members of the World Security Council, and half a dozen movers and shakers of industry. All are top-level analysts and decision-makers, much like himself. Together, they’re going to shape the course of history.

Hail Hydra.

Secretary Pierce strides in, trailed by none other than the Winter Soldier himself. Pierce settles in at the head of the table, and the asset looms dutifully in the corner behind him. Doug recognizes the asset from photos, but no photo can capture the menacing, predatory way the man moves. Somewhere deep down, Doug’s lizard brain screams at him to get the fuck away from that thing, it’s going to kill you.

He ignores it, of course. Bringing the Winter Soldier to a meeting like this is a total power move, but Doug refuses to be intimidated. There are rules to these kinds of meetings, even at this level. He tugs the starched collar of his shirt and takes a sip of his water.

The discussion begins as one analyst recommends sending the asset to take out a troublesome prime minister. They go around the room proposing alternative targets, debating the potential ramifications of each.

“Now, Mr. Secretary,” Doug says, “I’m just thinking in terms of risk management. How can you be certain that the asset is fully under your control at all times? Do we need to make any contingency plans in case he goes off-script?”

Pierce gazes at Doug with an inscrutable expression, then rolls his chair back a couple inches from the table. “Soldier,” he says, and the asset steps forward with unnaturally efficient grace.

Everyone in the room tenses in their seat, half-expecting violence, but Pierce just snaps his fingers and points to the floor. The asset folds to his knees, crawls between Pierce’s legs, and starts to undo the man’s belt.

What? Doug thinks. No. This is all wrong. There are supposed to be rules. He came here to move pieces across the geopolitical chess board, not to play whatever game this is.

Pierce ignores Doug completely, turning to address the man who had spoken before him. “Go on, Gibson. I got the sense that there was more to your last point.”

The asset’s head bobs with a noisy slurp; Pierce doesn’t even look down. Gibson opens and closes his mouth, aghast. Doug looks around the table, making furtive eye contact with the others. The woman seated to his left has pressed her lips together in a tight line. Nobody says a damn thing.

“Is there something wrong?” Pierce says lightly, looking at his watch. “I think we were making real progress toward a consensus. I know you’ve all got places to be after this meeting. Don’t let me keep you.”

The Soldier’s head bobs up and down. Gibson manages to rattle off a few sentences about the anticipated retaliation of an insurgent group.

“Thank you for those valuable insights.” Pierce leans back in his chair with an almost theatrical sigh, then leans down to tap the kneeling man twice on the shoulder. The asset releases Pierce’s dick with a noisy pop and gets to his feet. His gaze is distant, his lips shiny and wet. He unzips his black tactical pants and bends over the conference table, dark hair splayed on shiny wood.

Half of the table is suddenly extremely interested in the paperwork in front of them. The congressman looks very pale. Sitwell watches avidly with barely-contained arousal; Gibson clears his throat while looking at his shoes.

Never in a million years has Doug wanted to see the Secretary’s penis - but there it is, standing proud in all its septuagenarian glory. Pierce reaches into his pocket and produces a small bottle of lube. What kind of psycho brings lube to a strategy meeting? Doug thinks wildly, but the Secretary is already easing down the asset’s pants and slicking himself up and Doug should not be watching this, he wishes he could stop watching this. Nausea curdles his stomach and tugs at his throat.

Pierce lines up behind the asset’s well-muscled ass and starts pushing in. The asset’s features twist into a grimace; he lets out a guttural moan, almost a sob, but makes no move to escape.

There’s an obscene slap of skin on skin. The asset groans in time.

Pierce says “Quiet, Soldier, you’re making too much noise,” and the groaning abruptly stops. The asset stays completely silent, but his facial expression doesn’t change. The hand that Doug can see is clenched into a fist.

Finally - finally - Pierce drives in one more time and stills. After a beat, he pulls out and neatly buttons himself back up. The Soldier stays where he is with his pants down around his pale thighs, breathing deeply in the room’s deafening silence.

“As you can all see, I’m not worried about the asset breaking out of my control. He’s been doing Hydra’s bidding since before any of you were born - and, god willing, he’ll still be doing it when we’re all gone. No contingency plans are necessary.”

Pierce casually pats the Soldier’s bare ass and gives him an order in Russian. The Soldier pulls his pants back up and goes back to standing in the corner, face nearly as blank as before. There’s buzzing in Doug’s ears. He watches the old man adjust his tie and his lizard brain screams at him to get the fuck away.

“Now,” Pierce says, eyes glittering. “Does anyone else have a question for me?”

Nobody does.