Infinite trash pandas at infinite typewriters

[trashmod]

Infinity War spoiler post! All Infinity War spoilers go here until May 26th. Spoilers on the main post will be deleted.

hydratrashmeme rules still apply, including rules for what is and isn't on-topic. This is a post for Hydra Trash Party prompts that happen to contain Infinity War spoilers. It is not an Infinity War kinkmeme with a dumb, inexplicable rule that you have to come up with some pretext to throw in the word "trash" or your prompt gets frozen. If your prompt needs a token reference to somebody's trash past to qualify as on-topic, it's not on-topic.

Recap for anons who've just joined us: To the extent this kinkmeme has a unifying purpose, it's taking the high-quality whump supplied by Cap: Winter Soldier and dragging it to places that are nasty, filthy, and wrong. It has always been "bad guys doing appalling rapey things to your faves: the kinkmeme." If the kinks are wholesome, if the violence and brainwashing are purely nonsexual, if the fucked-up noncon part is optional or interchangeable with general whump, if the lead characters aren't from the Cap franchise and weren't in TWS, if the prompt could conceivably be filmed and included in a Disney-approved PG-13 Marvel movie... this is not the trashcan you're looking for.

Also not our wheelhouse: mundane AUs, soulbond/omegaverse/D/s-verse AUs, shippy/romanticized noncon, MCU heroes repurposed into OOC or edgydark delivery vehicles for your fave's suffering. Find a different kinkmeme for it, folks. Or start one. I'll link to it.

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[FILL] The King Dies By the Crown 2/2

[jaune_chat]

Bucky’s body spasmed, and Steve knew he had to be raw and burning from the violation. But instead Bucky’s cock jerked and he came into the floor, bobbing up and down in time to the rough pace Rumlow and Rollins were setting. The other STRIKE soldiers were baring themselves, stroking their erections as they laughed and made crude comments.

“See how much he likes it now?” “Bitch always did, now he’s just showing his appreciation.” “Gonna finally get a piece of him…”

Rumlow looked at the mirror where Steve was hidden from view, and smirked. He pulled out of Bucky’s mouth and gave Rollins a significant look. Rollins pulled out of Bucky’s body and stood as Rumlow pulled Bucky up by the hair. Bucky’s face was wet with tears, and his lips were red and swollen. He was mouthing, No… as Rumlow bent him just enough for Rollins to shove back inside.

Bucky’s protest turned into a heartfelt moan that zinged shameful pleasure down Steve’s own spine. Rumlow sneered at Bucky as his cock twitched and began to stiffen again.

“Now you’re being a good boy. This is just how we put you back to bed, fuck you right to sleep,” he said, just loud enough for Steve to hear. “Say thank you.”

Bucky was trembling in a way that had nothing to do with Rollins rough fucking, thighs shaking in a way that meant he wanted to collapse to the floor to focus on sensation rather than standing. But still he tried to shake his head in Rumlow’s grasp, stopping himself as the would-be pain translated into another surge of pleasure. Rumlow just laughed and reached down to grab Bucky’s balls in a vicious, vice-like grip. Bucky gasped, head lolling back as his cock hardened and dribbled pale semen as Rollins kept thrusting inside him.

“no…” Bucky whispered from a throat raw from violation. “Please, no…”

“Aww, he said please, boys,” Rumlow said, and twisted Bucky’s balls in his unrelenting grip. Steve winced on Bucky’s behalf, stomach clenching as a moan of pleasure was forced from him.

Rollins thrust once more, hard enough to lift Bucky up for a moment, and stilled. He pulled out a few moments later, more semen spilling on the floor, and Rumlow lowered Bucky’s head back onto his cock. Soon after, more STRIKE soldiers lined up behind Bucky, each one erect and grinning.

Steve muffled a scream as they took turns, never relenting for more than a minute as they fucked him one after the other as Rumlow remained in possession of his mouth. Some would slap Bucky’s ass, others dig into his vulnerable genitals with a cruel grip, others lean forward to bite him like they were staking a claim. Every brutal, awful touch, Bucky would try not to make a sound. Moans spilled out from between his clenched teeth as his cock kept spilling on the floor, orgasms seemingly washing over him in endless waves.

The impossible glass remained impervious, but Steve didn’t stop trying to break through it, calling out to Bucky over the snide and cruel comments from STRIKE. His fists and feet went numb when the last man finally finished, Rumlow nearly smothering Bucky as he pulled his face in to mash against his pelvis as he came down Bucky’s throat. They dropped him in a heap of his own spunk and saliva, Rumlow shaking his head in disgust.

“Yeah, he still ain’t talking,” Rumlow said, and nodded at Jack. Jack pulled out a shining knife from his boot, and pulled Bucky upright again by the shoulder. Bucky’s head was lolling, eyes mostly closed, hips thrusting weakly as if chasing the echoes of pleasure that must still be reverberating through his body. “Wake him up, Jack.”

Rollins silently took the knife and pricked at Bucky’s left nipple, drawing a bright bead of blood. Bucky’s eyes shot open and his cock stood at attention again, angry red with stimulation and overuse. Fear and a touch of sick, shameful longing were mixed on his face, horror overlaying everything else as Jack watched his reactions. He sliced very, very delicately over the hard nub of Bucky’s nipple, and Bucky let out a full-throated whimper that spiked Steve’s heart with ice.

“God, no! Stop!” he shouted uselessly, pounding against the glass like a caged animal. Jack didn’t seem to hear him, or care, and carefully made more small cuts across Bucky’s chest, spilling runnels of blood to mix with the sweat, tears, and semen streaking his body. When the knife came to his other nipple, and carefully cut over the top of that as well, Steve groaned in despair as Bucky tensed and came again onto the floor.

Part of Steve that wasn’t frozen in horror was hot with shame. A tiny part of him had longed to see Bucky letting go, enjoying himself, had longed to hold him, stroke him, fuck him or be fucked by him, learning what made him scream and giving it to him any way he wanted it. Right now Bucky was experiencing more physical pleasure than he ever had. Steve’s body was getting some kind of thrill out of seeing Bucky hard and wanting and orgasming, half-hard in his pants in a way he didn’t want. In some sick way, Steve wanted to be a part of it. But not like this. Not ever like this.

“Still not talking, Brock,” Rollins said casually. Rumlow shrugged, and Steve struggled with himself, knowing some of this couldn’t be real. Thanos was behind all of this, drawing this out of Bucky’s memory and both of their worst fears. That was why Rumlow looked like he had before the Triskellion had fallen on him. But no matter how hard he told himself this wasn’t real, it didn’t change the impenetrable glass under his hands, or Bucky writhing in pleasure in his torturers’ grasp.

“We’ll go level five,” Rumlow said, and pushed Bucky to his knees again, pulling his head up by the hair so his face was clearly visible, slack-jawed with eyes black with helpless pleasure and pain. Rumlow sneered slightly at the glass. “Got a good view, Cap?”

Behind Bucky, Rollins had pulled out… The bottom dropped out of Steve’s stomach. No. It was one of the stun batons they’d tried to use on him in the elevator ambush. Rollins lubricated it by rolling it in the greasy pool of spunk on the floor and held it up for inspection, gobs of white dripping off of it, then lowered it to Bucky’s defenseless hole. He fed it in slowly, Bucky moaning the whole time in a continuous drone. The baton was long, hard, and utterly inflexible, but Jack didn’t stop until the whole rigid length of it was buried inside Bucky’s body. He began to thrust hard, punching a grunt from Bucky with every motion, while Rumlow made certain Steve couldn’t miss a single nuance of Bucky’s helpless expressions.

“Stop, please, just stop!” Steve shouted, feeling his whole body starting to go numb with despair.

“Yeah, still not enough. Jack, level six,” Rumlow said, grinning like a wolf.

Jack thrust the baton in as far as it would go. Then flicked the end to turn it on.

Electricity fired through Bucky’s body, enough to down a normal person into a twitching ball on the floor. He screamed and came, strong pulses of come that splashed up as far as his chin, and kept coming as Rollins kept the electricity on inside him. Steve went frantic, almost berserk, as he realized that much power was going to cook Bucky from the inside out, and Rollins showed no signs of stopping. Bucky’s scream had turned from wordless into a single, unbroken “Steve!” as he vibrated in an unstoppable orgasm that could only end in his death.

As Steve pounded on the glass like a madman, screaming back, “Stop, I’m begging you, stop it, please stop, stop, stop!” he felt a traitorous hardness pressing against the wall he was trying to break through.

In his ear he heard, very faintly, Natasha’s voice. “Steve, we’ve got the Mind Stone out! It’s on the move!”

“Where is it?” rumbled a louder voice behind him. Thanos had made his reappearance.

“Location six, in the computer on the Quinjet,” Steve said, voice ragged and desperate.

Abruptly the nightmare scenario disappeared, and the desert and Quinjet reappeared where they had been before. Thanos took the information and vanished into a blue portal, heading towards one of the other beacons they had prepared. With any luck, the Wakandan special forces were going to make finding the “mind stone” difficult enough that the Avengers could get to the area for a final stand and prepare without interference.

All of that was last on Steve’s mind as he stumbled across the sandy deck to where Bucky was lying crumpled on the ground. Both of their armor was back, and Steve could see no bruising or blood on Bucky’s face. But his pants were soaking wet with a distinct musky odor, damp to the knee with evidence of compulsive orgasms. Bucky was breathing shallowly, still twitching from the overload to his systems as Steve gently took him into his arms.

“Bucky? Oh god, can you hear me?” Steve asked desperately.

Bucky kept his eyes screwed shut, but nodded in tiny increments before he curled up into a ball trembling ball, shame radiating from every pore. Steve helplessly sat by his side, his own shame making his thighs wet as he tried, and failed, to comfort the man he loved.