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.

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I would be delighted to fill this for you, OP. In terms of Bucky wanting Steve to use him (and Steve supporting this plan), I'm imagining a d/s scenario—does that work? Any kinks you don't like?

Thank you! That works. No, I like everything.

After dinner one night, Steve said, "There's a present for you in the bedroom." He'd left the pretty little bag on Bucky's nightstand, tufts of colored tissue paper peeking from the top. Bucky looked over inquiringly from where he was drying the last of the dishes. "I hope you like it."

Bucky, who knew an order when he heard one, put away the plate he was holding and padded over to the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He didn't come out for a long time.

*

Steve had to give him credit for trying. "Let me," he'd said, the first time, pressing his hard body invitingly against Steve's. "I want to."

With one hand, lightly, he'd caressed Bucky's tousled head. "Are you su—"

Bucky pulled away. He said, "Don't you dare."

Steve slapped him. "Watch your mouth." Bucky's hand flew to his cheek in shock. Steve raised his hand again and watched him flinch.

"I'm sorry!" Bucky said quickly.

"For?"

"Interrupting."

"And?"

He had to think about it. "Moving? While you were touching me."

Steve said, "Good." He reached for Bucky, who held still, and stroked his hair just as gently as before. Then he tangled his fist in it and dragged him in until their foreheads touched. "I was going to ask," Steve said, "are you suggesting that it matters?"

"What?" said Bucky, having rather lost the thread. Steve gave him a little shake, enough to make him wince. "Ow."

"You said, you want to. Do you really think that's relevant?"

"Oh," Bucky said, and grinned right up against Steve's mouth. "I guess not. No."

"No," Steve confirmed, and kissed him.

Which was fine, until Bucky was bent over with his wrists pinned at the small of his back, his face pressed to the mattress, his dick hard and leaking in Steve's practiced grip. Until Steve teased two slick fingers against his hole and Bucky went rigid under him like he could stop what Steve was doing by stopping his own movement, his own breath.

*

The next time, Steve laid him out on his back, so Bucky could see his face, in case that helped. It didn't.

*

The time after that, Steve said, "Why don't we try something else?"

Bucky was still shaking. "You quitting on me, Rogers?"

"I'm sorry," Steve said. "I don't know what I was thinking. You're obviously only good for one thing. Even Hydra figured out that much."

"Right," Bucky said.

"And like this, you're no good at all. How long am I supposed to keep you around, when I can't use you properly?"

"I have bad news," Bucky said.

"Uh-oh," Steve said. "Don't tell me I'm stuck with you?"

Bucky shifted, putting space between their bodies in the bed. Steve, who would have liked very much to hold him, knew better than to try. "Like the devil in a corner."

"Well," Steve said, considering. "That's all right. It's wasteful, anyway, getting rid of broken things. Not when you can fix them."

*

"Comfortable?" Steve said, when Bucky emerged from the bedroom, walking carefully.

Bucky made a face. "Not exactly."

"It shouldn't hurt," Steve said. "It shouldn't pinch, or—"

Bucky said, "It's fine."

"Okay," Steve said. "So. Want to try that again?" Bucky rolled his eyes. "Do you like your present?"

"It's great."

Steve had beaten him for insolence, weeks ago now, and Bucky had suffered it like an animal, uncomprehending. "And?"

"Thank you."

Steve smiled. "You're very welcome."

*

When they were getting ready for bed, Steve said, "What are you doing."

Bucky looked up, a pair of sweatpants in his hands. "What?"

"You don't need those," Steve said. "What if I want you in the night? I'm supposed to undress you?"

Bucky flushed a little. They'd both been sleeping safely clothed.

Steve sighed. "Relax. We've pretty well established that your virtue, such as it is, is safe with me. But, on principle. You sleep in my bed, you should be available for my use."

"Okay," Bucky said, but the color stayed high in his cheeks as he stripped and climbed naked into bed, giving Steve his first look at the steel cage locked snugly around his balls, sheathing his cock.

"That looks good on you," Steve said, dropping his own jeans and boxers in the hamper. He saw that Bucky had set both keys, sweetly, on the dresser next to Steve's wallet.

Bucky mashed his face into the pillow. "Ugh," he said. "My dick's been trying to get hard since I put the damn thing on. There's nowhere for it to go."

Steve laughed, and slid into bed beside him. "Better get used to it." Bucky made no move to curl against him, shy, Steve thought, of their bare skin, of the threat of Steve's body. "You'll keep a key with you, of course, in case of emergency."

"Have a lot of dick-related emergencies, do you?"

Steve stretched comfortably, and reached down to circle a lazy first around his own cock. "You know, I think I might be having one now."

"Hey," Bucky said.

"I told you, calm down." He stroked himself slowly, luxuriating in the gentle friction, and thought about Bucky's soft cock straining hopelessly at the confines of its metal cage. "I'm not fucking you again until you beg me." However long that took. "But I'm not hiding in the bathroom to jerk off anymore, either. This is my house."

"I know my brain got electrocuted and everything," said Bucky, who'd handled most of the paperwork, "but I don't think that's what tenancy by the entirety means."

Steve said, "I'll beat you again."

"You should," Bucky said. "I know you liked that. I kissed your hands, afterward." He had, in relief. In gratitude. He'd kissed Steve's face, too, when he caught sight of it, a creature comforting its poor sad god.

"Consider," Steve said, "that one of us is going to come tonight, while the other one stays locked up and horny. So. Whose apartment is it?"

"Yours."

Steve worked his hand faster. "And whose bed?"

"Yours."

"And whose fucked up, useless toy is that, cowering over there like a virgin, not even offering a hand or a mouth or a slutty hole to take my load?"

"Ugh," Bucky said, succinctly.

"That's okay," Steve said. "Take all the time you need. I won't force you."

"Gosh," Bucky said. "Thanks."

"The cage stays on, of course." Precome welled from the tip of his cock, and he smeared it slickly over the sensitive head, groaning a little with pleasure. "Until I'm balls deep in your ass. Which can be whenever you like. No rush."

"Which one of us," Bucky said, sounding slightly breathless, "are you trying to embarrass? Because it's working."

"That's good," Steve said. "Keep talking. See if I don't find something else for you to do with that smart mouth." They'd tried it once, abortively, after which the threat never failed to make Bucky hard. "Did I say I wouldn't force you? I must have forgotten"—Steve bucked his hips, fucking into his fist—"how irritating you get, without a cock in you." Although, Steve realized, his information was out of date. He pictured a faceless Hydra goon shoving Bucky to his knees, gloved fingers digging into his jaw. Open up, slut. They'd probably raped his throat as often as they had his ass—more often, really, despite how he hated it— "Nngh," Steve said, and came.

"I have it on reliable authority," Bucky said, "that I can be fairly irritating, even with—"

"Oh, my god," Steve said. "Shut up."

Bucky said, "You know, I think I'm ready now. Balls deep, right? Come on, get over here."

Helplessly, Steve started to laugh. "Your timing. Is impeccable as always."

Bucky rolled onto his back with a little sigh of frustration. "How am I supposed to sleep like this? I want to come."

"You want to come now," Steve said, "think how you're going to feel in a week. Two weeks. A month."

"Fuck," Bucky said. "I am so fucked."

"So it would appear." Steve yawned. His limbs felt pleasantly heavy. "Feel free to wake me up with a nice blow job in the morning. Assuming you're better at it than you used to be."

Steve smiled in the dark, to hear him startled into laughter. "Because of all my recent practice, you mean? Oh, yeah. I can do things with my tongue you won't believe."

"In that case," Steve said, "you can wake me up with a blow job every morning. Consider it a standing order."

"You got it, baby," Bucky said.

*

Steve woke to the sound of the shower, and dragged the covers over his head, curling for a few more decadent minutes into the bed's warmth. Then he got up and knocked on the bathroom door.

Bucky called, "I'm in the shower."

Steve raised his own voice to be heard. "I know. Can I come in?"

A moment of silence. Then: "Yeah, okay."

Steve pushed the door open, inhaling a wave of steam. Through the clear shower curtain he saw Bucky watching him, his arms deliberately loose at his sides, looking self-conscious and incipiently pissed off about it. Steve tugged the curtain aside and stepped in, crowding into Bucky's space until he managed to duck his own head under the hot spray.

"Good morning," Steve said.

"Morning," Bucky said. "Do you mind?"

Steve kissed him between his wary eyes, and again on the point of his nose. "Not in the least. How did you sleep?"

"Badly," said Bucky, who was not a morning person. He stepped back, and gestured indignantly at his crotch. "This is ridiculous."

"Aw," Steve said. "Is it frustrating? Poor thing. Here, let me see."

"What," Bucky said, as Steve slipped to his knees. "Steve."

"Hush," Steve said. "Hold still." He'd done his research, had tried the device on himself first. None of that prepared him for the sight of Bucky's thick cock constrained by the gleaming metal. He toyed with the little padlock that secured it, and stroked a fingertip over the head of Bucky's cock where it peeked from the sheath.

"Ah," Bucky said.

"They make sounds to go with it," Steve said, still caressing the sensitive cockhead. "Do you know what that means? Little metal rods, to stuff up your piss hole. Would you like that? Having your cock fucked?"

"No," Bucky said. His cock twitched, fattening under Steve's touch, swelling against the cage. It looked painful.

"No," Steve said, turning his attention to Bucky's heavy balls, rolling them gently in his palm. "I might like it, though. I might decide it's just what you deserve, for disobeying a direct order."

"Me?" Bucky said, innocently. "I'd never."

"Really? What did I tell you I wanted this morning."

Bucky laughed, remembering. Steve squeezed his balls, turning it into a groan. "Aw fuck, Steve. My—my mouth."

Steve said, "Bingo."

"Come on," Bucky said. "You weren't serious."

"Well, maybe you're right." Steve kissed his thigh. "Maybe I was confused. Maybe that's my job, not yours." He opened his mouth, and closed it softly around the tip of Bucky's cock, tasting metal and clean skin.

"Oh, no," Bucky said. "That's—Steve, don't."

Steve sucked gently, working his tongue against the swollen flesh, before pulling off. "Hush," he said again. "Be good."

"Unh," Bucky said, despairingly, as Steve mouthed at the cage, kissing the steel, teasing the exposed skin. Opening wide, he took Bucky in, cage and all, until his lips touched the ring at the base. The stretch made saliva pool in his mouth, and he swallowed convulsively, tearing another sound of frustrated want from behind Bucky's clenched teeth. He sucked firmly, thoroughly, until Bucky rocked his hips, chasing the maddening pleasure that held no possibility of relief. "Stop it," Bucky said. "Stop. Take it off."

Steve sat back on his heels to look up at him. His own cock was achingly hard between his legs. "Sure. If you're ready?"

Bucky hesitated for a long moment, the water falling on his shoulders, spilling down his broad chest. Reluctantly, he shook his head.

Steve got to his feet. "All right. Turn around and bend over."

Bucky squinted at him. "I said no."

"Duly noted. Do what you're told."

Slowly, Bucky turned his back to Steve. Steve pushed down on the nape of his neck, until Bucky gave in and braced himself with both hands against the wall. He cupped Bucky's ass appreciatively, leaning into him so that Bucky could feel how hard he was. "Buck," he said. "Are you listening to me?"

It was a while before Bucky answered. "Yes."

He parted Bucky's cheeks to expose the tight pucker of his hole, and traced a finger over it, feeling it clench under the touch. A shudder rippled through Bucky's shoulders. "You're fine," Steve said.

Bucky said nothing. Steve replaced his hand with his cock, sliding wetly against Bucky's ass, the fat head catching briefly on the rim of his hole. Against the tiles, the nails of Bucky's human hand were white. "It's fine," Steve said again. "It's okay." He eased back, and rocked smoothly forward, rutting against him. He stroked the long line of Bucky's back, bent in unwilling submission.

"Please," Bucky said. "Don't."

"I won't. I'm not." Steve soothed him again, even as he increased the pace of his movements, working his cock against Bucky's tender skin. "Pay attention. Does this hurt?"

"No." Which might or might not have been an answer. Enough, Steve thought, and took himself in hand, jerking his cock hard until he came, the hot spurts marking Bucky like a conquest.

Remembering the previous times, Steve made himself step back, giving him space. "You're done," he said, his voice not entirely even. "Clean yourself up. I'm making breakfast."

(OP) Wow thank you, it's good so far! I like how Steve finds a creative way to work on Bucky's "problem," even though he's also happy to just do something else. (I do like cock cages so that is a bonus.) Nice that they can make jokes about Bucky's trauma, and not tiptoe around it. The blow job in the shower was hot.

OH WOW I adore this. Snarky D/s dynamics are my absolute favorite, and I love the mix of nasty and playful here. Can't wait for more!

This is so cute and nice!!

Aww they got married. Love that and love the little hint at how far Bucky's life and recovery have come. Though I am curious about the incident where Steve beat him. Will we find out more about what happened there?

(AA) Indeed! :) And yes, that gets revisited in the next bit. Thanks for reading/commenting!

"Now you're just being insensitive," Bucky said, when Steve pushed the covers down, letting the glow of the nighttime city through the curtain paint his lean muscled body in shimmer and shadow. "Would you feast in front of a starving man?"

Steve ran an unhurried hand over his chest, teasing a nail lightly across one nipple, and down over his stomach. Bucky's eyes on him made his skin feel electric. "I don't know," he said. "Am I trying to fuck the guy in the analogy?" He'd been half hard all day, it felt like, imagining Bucky riding to work, sitting through meetings with the cage under his jeans, reminded with every shift of his weight that Steve owned him and meant to have him. He hissed at the first touch to the overheated flesh of his cock. "Or do I want him to eat from my hand?"

"You are indecent," Bucky said, and Steve's cock jumped at the naked desire in his voice. "Look at you. Maybe we should try something else."

"Oh yeah?" Steve said. He skated his palm along the shaft, up and slowly down, drawing out the moment before he wrapped his fist around it. "Like what."

"I could bend you in half," Bucky said. "Make you hold yourself open while I plow that pretty cunt. Make you come on my dick like a good girl."

"Guh," Steve said, intelligently. Bucky had always preferred to bottom, which suited Steve just fine. But when they'd mixed it up, it had been memorable. Bucky's gentle hands, his filthy mouth. He wouldn't have to be careful with Steve now.

"If you hadn't wrecked the gunships," Bucky said, "and Captain America was rotting in a Hydra cell, they might have let me break you. There you'd be, chained to the wall, all defiant in the rags of your uniform. Your heart would leap when the door opened and you saw it was me, even though I had the mask on again—"

"Oh god," said Steve, who wasn't going to last.

"—even though I didn't know you. You'd call my name, speak to me like a friend, until you couldn't speak for screaming. Then I'd take you down, let you collapse to the floor, let you try to crawl away from me when you heard the zipper and knew I was getting my dick out. I'd haul you up by the hips and spit on your hole, and you'd whisper, Bucky, you don't have to do this. And you'd be right, though you wouldn't know it. I've satisfied my orders. I'm not fucking you to hurt you, though it will hurt you, it'll make you scream again as I give you every inch of my dick, without stopping: I'm doing it because it's allowed and I want to, because it feels good. You find some fight left in you after all, when I start pounding you ass, and that only makes it better. I fuck you as long and hard as I can, until I pump that nice tight hole full of my spunk. I pet you, after, for pleasing me, and tell you I'll see you tomorrow. And even as you cringe away, you begin to understand. That this is your life now. Every day, my hands, my knives, my dick in your ass, until you forget your own name. Until you're ready to comply."

"Fuck," Steve said, and came all over his belly.

"You," Bucky said smugly, "are so easy. Good night, asshole."

*

"You were smart, really," Bucky said. "To outsource my training." After a week in the cage, a week of Steve jerking off in their bed beside him, he was getting reckless. "You had the right idea, sure, but you could never bring out the best in me. Not like Hydra."

It was a Friday evening; neither of them had anywhere to be the next day. "I know," Steve said. "It's why I let them keep you."

"So why," Bucky said, "don't you enjoy the results?"

The back of Steve's neck prickled. He sat up straighter on the couch. "How do you mean?"

"You told me to suck your dick," Bucky said. He'd headed straight for the shower after work, and stood now leaning shirtless against the bedroom door in a pair of soft and, Steve thought, very low-slung jeans. "But you didn't mean it. Why not."

Steve said, "You don't like it."

"No-o," Bucky said, drawing out the word in a mockery of patience. "But I know someone who does."

"And who would that be?" Steve said obediently, though he was afraid he knew.

"The same person," Bucky said, "you whipped black and blue for backtalk. Who thanked you so nicely afterward."

Steve said, "Buck…"

"Come on," Bucky said. "Please. If you won't take the cage off, then help me. I feel like I'm going to shake out of my skin."

"I've already told you," Steve said, "when I'll take it off."

"Right," Bucky said. "I know. And I'm not ready. So."

"So," Steve echoed, pretending to think about it. As if he'd deny Bucky anything. "So, go stand against the wall."

Bucky gave him a thankful smile, pure and sweet, before turning to obey. Steve got up, and walked to his desk to unplug the extension cord from the lamp. He doubled it, holding both ends in his fist, and swished it experimentally. It hummed through the air.

"What's that?" Bucky said. "Steve?"

"Be quiet," Steve said. "Asset."

Bucky squared his stance, bracing himself, as Steve came up behind him. Steve dropped the cord and ran his hands over Bucky's naked back, touching the scarred skin everywhere he meant to hurt. After a few minutes, Steve felt the tension in his muscles ease. He used his nails then, lightly, and Bucky shivered with pleasure. "Oh," he said.

"Quiet," Steve said again, and dropped a little kiss between his shoulder blades. He pressed harder, scratching the skin, warming it. "Easy." Then he stepped back, and picked up the makeshift whip.

The first blows were light, and Bucky took them well. He gasped at a harder swing, and Steve watched the red weal bloom before hitting him again.

When a few of the cuts were seeping blood, Steve said, "Tell me why you're being punished."

"I don't know," the Asset said sadly, in the tone of one who rarely did. "I'm sorry, sir."

Steve swung the whip again, and this time the Asset flinched. "You're being punished," Steve said, "for not sucking my cock like a good slut when I told you to."

"I'll do better," the Asset said, immediately. "I'll be good."

Steve gave him five more stripes with the vicious thing, and the Asset trembled under them. Then he let it fall, and stepped back. "Come here," he said. "On your knees."

"Thank you," the Asset said, as he crawled to Steve's feet. "Thank you, sir." He looked up expectantly, his tear-streaked face adoring.

Steve said, "You know what to do."

Tenderly, the Asset unfastened his jeans. He kissed Steve's soft cock through the fabric of his boxers, in greeting, before easing him free. The first slow, wet suck sent sparks up his spine.

It wasn't long before Steve felt himself begin to respond. The Asset took him deeper with a pleased hum, relieved, Steve thought, to be doing well. He choked a little when Steve hit the back of his throat, and suppressed it quickly, the corners of his eyes leaking new tears. Steve put a hand on his head, and felt the tiny flinch. When he didn't take control, only carding his fingers lightly through the dark hair, the Asset redoubled his efforts in gratitude.

If he wanted to, he could put the Asset back against the wall when he was done. He could do anything he liked. No wonder the Asset was glad of the chance to please him, to reduce the potential for violence, to dissipate cruelty into something that disgusted and humiliated but didn't impair function, didn't leave him more vulnerable. The Asset had no recourse from his whims. Steve wanted to reassure him, but that wasn't the game, and he didn't trust himself to speak. He told himself instead: You won't.

He took his hand off the Asset's head before he came, but the Asset swallowed without fuss. Steve tucked himself back into his pants, and bent down to wipe the Asset's face with his sleeve. "That was—very good," he said, and the Asset smiled up at him, basking in the praise. Last time, it had taken no more than half an hour for Bucky to come back to himself. Last time, of course, Steve hadn't raped him. "Come on, up you get." With a hand under his elbow, Steve helped him to his feet. "Go lie down on the bed, all right? Let's take care of your back."

Steve put the kettle on, and fetched disinfectant and soothing lotion from the bathroom cabinet. He put some cookies on a plate and squeezed lemon into a cup of hot water, feeling a strange calm settle over him. The Asset, sprawled on top of the covers, propped himself on his elbows at Steve's urging to eat a cookie and sip from the steaming mug. "Okay," Steve said. "That's good. You can rest now." With a sigh of contentment, the Asset closed his eyes. Gently, Steve cleaned the little cuts. When that was done, he worked cool cream into the welted but unbroken skin.

After a while, Bucky said, "Steve?"

"Yeah, Buck," Steve said. "I'm here."

"Are you okay?"

Steve said, "I'm fine."

"Okay," Bucky said. "Might sleep a bit."

Steve folded his hands in his lap. "Want me to stay?"

"No," Bucky said. "Sorry. Just—need to know it's over. Couldn't know for sure until they put me back in my cell."

Steve wanted to kiss him. He wouldn't make him bear another touch. He said, "Don't worry about it. Sleep well. Let me know if you need anything."

He retreated to the couch, and wrapped a blanket around himself. It was a long time before he fell asleep.

*

Steve woke up groggy, blinking at the bright sun through the window. He smelled toast, and coffee, and bacon, and heard Bucky humming in the kitchen. He'd overslept. He sat up slowly, and winced as his body registered its complaints. It felt like he was coming down with a cold.

They spent the sunny morning after breakfast walking in the park, and the afternoon relaxing at home in front of one movie and then another. Bucky was quietly cheerful, his smiles open and sincere, the restless energy of the last week gone like grounded lightning. Steve's thoughts felt slow, disjointed. By early evening, he had a headache. It worsened through dinner, as he tried to hold up his end of the conversation, tried to keep the right expressions on his face.

When they were getting ready for bed, Bucky pulled on his old sleepwear. Steve frowned at him in confusion. He'd made it a rule, hadn't he? They slept naked now. They slept naked, and Steve jerked off, and Bucky's frustration mounted. He didn't feel like it tonight, granted, but he'd manage; he wouldn't let Bucky down. "Come on," Steve said. "You know better. Strip."

"Nope," Bucky said. He tossed Steve a balled-up pair of sweatpants, a long-sleeved cotton t-shirt. "Put those on and get under the covers."

Steve, who knew an order when he heard one, did as he was told. Bucky flicked off the light and climbed in beside him. He reached across Steve's body to grasp his wrist, then rolled away, dragging Steve over with him until Steve's front was pressed to his back, Steve's arm tucked around his side.

"I'm traumatized," Bucky said. He squirmed comfortably, pushing into the curve of Steve's body. "From yesterday."

Steve snorted softly. "I can tell."

"I am," Bucky insisted. "I need you to hold me, just like this. Oh, and rub my head, too. That will definitely help. With the trauma."

"You're ridiculous," Steve said. "You know that?" But he did it anyway, prying his bottom arm free to mess with Bucky's soft hair, tracing gentle circles against his scalp. Oddly, it seemed to ease the soreness in his own temples.

"Mm," Bucky said, burying his face in the pillow to give Steve better access. "That's perfect."

Holding him close, soothing him, Steve breathed deep as the cold, stunned feeling of the day began to release its grip.

"I'm not an idiot," Bucky said, some time later. "I know it's hard for you. The way I need space, after. It's different from—how we were."

Oh, no. That was wrong: the last thing Steve wanted from Bucky was an apology for what he had suffered, or how it had changed him.

"It's okay," Steve said. "It's really okay."

"Of course it's okay," Bucky said, with affectionate exasperation. "That doesn't mean it isn't hard."

Steve hugged him tighter. He felt the relief of realignment between them, and in its wake, a sleepy sort of peace.

"Anyway," Bucky said. "As I mentioned, I'm terribly distressed. I hope you're comfortable, because it'll be at least another hour before I even think of starting to get over it."

Steve smiled against the nape of his neck, and let his eyes drift shut. Thank you, he thought, but it was a daily, domestic thing, that gratitude, and went without saying.

Okay I love this. As many fics there are that have Bucky and the Asset being different personalities (and I love them all) I've never seen one that deals with it like this, and it's really cool!

hnnng, I love how easy their relationship is, how good they are at reading each other and communicating about each others' needs. The Winter Soldier jerk-off fantasy is so great, as is invoking the Asset -- shows how comfortable they are in incorporating a very important aspect of Bucky.

And everything is so understated! It reminds me a lot of Propellers. Especially this line: "Thank you, he thought, but it was a daily, domestic thing, that gratitude, and went without saying." SO GOOD.

Ok, so I'm not great at commenting, but I wanted to express how much I loved this.

First, the dirty talk is GREAT and I do love Steve was actually really into it even though it's role reversal, and how Bucky just KNOWS how to push his buttons.

I love that you did show that Steve struggles with his role but can contain it. I love how their day in the park, they basically did a switcheroo, where Bucky was all light and bubbly, but it was hard for Steve.

But, most of all, I love how Bucky can read Steve and how - without even needing to go into safewords - Bucky cut that of, because they both knew it was not good timing for that dynamic.

So yes, this was well worth the wait.

Every part of this is such a treat and I want to just like, read it forever. I especially liked the way you handled the Asset/Bucky interplay and Steve's top drop. Love your writing.

Such a great dynamic! I love the way you include trauma and fear of both of them into their play. The negotiation and reassurance are so essential. I also love Bucky‘s “for the trauma” sass.

This is an amazing story!

I’d sell my soul to the trash god for a sequel!

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

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