Dumpster #5: We didn't start the trashfire

[trashmod]

Welcome to the latest, greatest, scummiest iteration of hydratrashmeme. Come on in and please check your sense of shame at the door.

Rules in brief: Don't be a jerk except to fictional characters. Warn if you want, but read at your own risk, because this is emphatically not a safe space. Link your fills on the fill post. Unprompted fills: make a prompt or a header comment and reply to it with the full text. Continuations of fills from earlier rounds: just make sure you link in both places.

What's on-topic: Filthy and perverted twists on all the quality whump served up by Cap: Winter Soldier. Noncon, aftermath, uncomfortably sexualized violence, mind control, inappropriate uses of Bucky Barnes' metal arm, bad guys doing dirtybadwrong things to your faves.
What's off-topic: a/b/o, D/s-verse, soulbonds, mundane AUs, shippy/romanticized noncon, MCU heroes repurposed into OOC or edgydark delivery vehicles for your fave's suffering. If you've got a prompt for one of those burning a hole in your brain, head on over to mcu_trash.

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Comments

Fill: The Quiet Game (8/?)

[devildears]

“Faster,” Bucky ordered, dodging Steve’s imbalanced punch at his side. “Faster!”

Steve sidestepped and tried to hit him with the Shield again, staggering slightly. His suit was drenched in sweat. They’d been at it for hours, going round and round in circles, each one trying to gain the upper hand in a play fight.

In the beginning, Steve had pulled his punches, expecting his partner to be slow and vulnerable with his recent injuries and the emotional trauma of the assault. Bucky taught him a better one. He didn’t seem to mind a little forceful touching. In fact, he welcomed it, reveling in the close proximity of Steve’s body and the intimate touches that came with sparring.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Come on, I know you can do better,” he sighed and countered effortlessly, kicking Steve in the chin. He hadn’t bothered with a suit, going for a light T-shirt and loose fitting jeans instead. “You’re already stronger than him but you gotta be both.” 

No, Bucky loved a challenge, thrived on it, compensating for his missing arm with agility like it was an advantage he had over Steve instead of a handicap. Maybe it was. He was harder to catch, rarely distracted and not giving an inch. Steve learned his lesson quickly: Holding his own and coddling his boyfriend at the same time wasn’t working

While Bucky had gone through a terrible ordeal at Hydra’s hands, he still benefitted from the intense focus and concentration of the Winter Soldier, his unbound strength and tactical thinking. The disturbingly high pain endurance handelnd the rest. Steve, in his naivety, was letting Bucky wipe the floor with him. 

“You’re not making this easy,” Steve grunted.

“Nope.”

Bucky tackled him, barefoot, kicking Steve’s stupidly exposed legs out from under him as he went. It worked like a charm. Steve tended to forget about his own cover when he had the shield, concerned with the offense rather than his defense, hard-hitting and always with an element of surprise. Typical for him. He tried to win every fight by giving his all without a proper exit strategy - which was usually where Bucky came in. 

This time, Steve got lucky. He instinctively grabbed Bucky’s ankle as he fell to the ground and held on, taking his boyfriend down with the momentum. They landed on the sun-burned grass together in a tangle of limbs, breathing heavily. 

“The damn shield is a weakness when it comes to hand to hand. You know that right?” Bucky panted, hair fanned out around his face like a halo.

“I know,” Steve groaned, holding his ribs where Bucky’s right knee had landed. “So you keep keep telling me.”

He stayed down where he was, chest heaving with exhaustion. “But I don’t wanna miss out on the satisfaction of smashing Ward’s face in with it.” 

Bucky snorted sarcastically. “For that you’d have to beat him first.” 

Steve rolled over onto his side and into a sitting position. He smudged the dirt on his face with the back of his hand which... Made him look strangely attractive. Bucky decidedly didn’t stare.

Steve pushed to his feet, extending one hand generously, like he wasn’t such a sore loser. “I think it’s time we took a break, wouldn’t you say?” 

“You’re tapping out already? Lazy ass...” Bucky grumbled but he took Steve’s hand gladly and let himself be pulled upright.

As he went inside, Steve murmured something that sounded suspiciously like ‘thank fucking God’ thrown in with something even more blasphemous along the lines.

“Hey!”

Steve ignored Bucky and patted his sweaty face with a fluffy white towel, inhaling its fresh soapy scent like it was an oxygen mask. 

“Stop taking the Lord’s name in vain,” Bucky scolded, smacking the back of his big head slightly, as he followed him inside. “What would your mother say?” 

Steve gave him the finger.

In truth, neither one of them could really speculate what Sarah Rogers would have thought about their behavior, especially about the cohabitating and questionable sexual practices under their roof. She never found out about the nature of their relationship, taken before her time by an illness she was exposed to at the hospital, but Bucky hoped she might have understood it somehow once she learned about it from the afterlife. 

There was more space in the hut now with the tub back outside where it was supposed to be and the new table Steve had built after demolishing the old one in a fit of rage, or guilt, or whatever Steve had been feeling at the time. It was about half the size, just big enough for two.

Bucky couldn’t handle guests right now anyways. The few children who were still aloud to come over unsupervised (like T’Waki, Arih and Tamia) waited outside the hut politely when they came to play with him. It seemed to be an unspoken agreement between Bucky and the kids. Maybe they were scared of his home now with everything that had happened there or maybe having them here brought back too many memories for Bucky. Steve didn’t ask him about it. Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to complain about the new privacy. Not at all. He just wished it had come under different circumstances. 

Relieved about the break, Steve unzipped his tight combat outfit at the back and freed his sweat-drenched body out of its cevlar prison. He let the suit fall to the floor and stepped out of the pant legs at his feet, completely naked. 

Bucky watched him from a distance as a drop of sweat made its way down his lover’s back slowly. He had the sudden urge to lick the salt from his skin.

“Underwear is mission imperative you know?” Bucky heard himself utter, throat strangely dry. 

“It’s too hot outside for that,” Steve retorted and turned around.

Bucky’s eyes widened. He felt himself blush and straightened his back, watching his partner’s intimate area in appreciation. Steve’s cock had filled out significantly during their little exercise, standing at half mast. It wasn’t unusual for him to get excited in combat situations, all those pent-up hormones and adrenaline. 

It was different for Bucky. He still had the serum enhanced libido but had painstakingly trained himself not to get hard. Not visibly at least. It had never ended well for him during his time in captivity. 

Steve watched him nervously, scanning Bucky’s face like the cover of a book. Suddenly, he turned away and covered himself with his towel, looking apologetic. “Sorry, I’m gonna go change real—”

“Don’t!” Bucky squeaked, maybe a little too high and forceful to keep his dignity. 

Steve froze and turned back towards him deliberately. Without taking his eyes off of Bucky, he placed the towel on the counter and cocked an eyebrow, watching the hungry look in his boyfriend’s eyes. He swallowed hard. “You really want to?” 

Bucky licked his lips, arousal and nerves fighting for the upper hand. “Yes,” he said.

Steve looked conflicted. He didn’t move from his spot yet, waiting still, sizing Bucky up and searching his face. “Are you sure?” 

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Bucky stepped closer, close enough to touch if he just reached out. “I’m sure.”

His hand found Steve’s. Summoning all his courage, he looked deeply into his partner’s eyes. “Kiss me.”

Steve’s nervous expression changed into something softer. He smiled warmly and reached out. With one hand on Bucky’s good shoulder, he bridged the distance and kissed Bucky full on the lips, first chaste then with more confidence when he didn’t flinch or pull away. 

“Like this?” he asked, alternating between real, hungry kisses and soft affectionate presses to Bucky’s lips, and nose, and cheeks. 

Bucky sighed and bit Steve’s lips in warning, returning the kiss heatedly. “More. Don’t overthink it.”

Steve oblidged. He kissed Bucky with everything he got and walked them backwards slowly, presumably angling to get them to lay down on their makeshift bed to the right. He never stopped touching Bucky and sucking on his tongue, moaning like a drowning man. It had been a while and although Steve was clearly holding back, his desire was imminent. 

Bucky let himself be moved until unexpectedly, the edge of something hard dug into his spine. Cold and relentless. Too familiar. 

His breathing stopped. 

“Wait,” Bucky said panicked, pushing at Steve and keeping him at a safe distance with one hand against his chest. “Don’t...”

Steve froze immediately and took a careful step back, showing his palms in surrender. “What? Did I do something?”

“No. Just... Not on the table, alright?” Bucky whispered, feeling silly for getting hung up on such a thing. 

Steve’s face fell. He nodded, expression pained, and reached out tentatively. He took Bucky’s face in his right hand with a gentleless fit for cracked porcelain and caressed his lover’s cheek reverently with his thumb.

“Of course not. We’ll do whatever you want, Buck. Nothing else. You’re in complete control here.” 

It was weird. Bucky knew that Steve would never pressure him into anything he didn’t want to do, at least not in the bedroom (their professional relationship was more complicated than that), but he felt strangely relieved at his words nonetheless. Steve wasn’t like Ward and the others. He’d never hurt him like that. Now, Bucky’s body needed to accept that, too, and get with the program.

He breathed in deeply and hugged Steve close, chest to chest, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin until the misplaced fear and anxiety went away.

Bucky gave his partner a loop-sided smile and rolled his eyes. “Moment’s over, Stevie,” he retorted shakily. “Don’t kill the mood. Take me to bed already.” 

Steve shook his head fondly and did just that. He picked Bucky up without hesitation, going slowly but touching him with a firm grip, certain that he could take his weight. Steve’s strong arms supported his boyfriend’s muscular thighs as he lifted him in the air.

With Bucky’s legs still covered by the rough fabric of his jeans and wrapped around Steve’s body, Steve strode to the other side of the room and lowered Bucky down on the soft blankets, careful not to drop him.

Bucky turned his head and looked at the rumpled bedding. The fabric was a washed-out green color now, like the grass outside. They had thrown the old ones with the dirty footprints, and the blood, and the bad memories out as fast as they could. 

Steve joined him on the floor. “How do you want—” 

“You want it wet or dry?” Ward’s heinous voice whispered in his head. An echo of the same damned question they had made him answer like it was all Bucky’s choice before they— Before they...

“...Bucky? Are you alright?”

Out of reflex, Bucky placed his hand over Steve’s mouth and shook his head vehemently. The other man searched his eyes, brows drawn together. Then he nodded, understanding and horror dawning on his face. 

“Sorry, I’m—” Bucky took his hand away at once and shrugged his shoulders apologetically. “Just don’t say it like that, ok? I want you inside me. I’d like that,” he said with a slightly desperate edge to it, “it’s ok if you don’t though. I’d understand it if you’d never—”

Steve, bless his heart, didn’t let him finish. Instead, he pulled Bucky closer and shut him up with a passionate kiss, laying everything he couldn’t say into the intimate press of his lips. 

“I want you. I’ll always want you. You know that.”

“Good,” Bucky murmured, suddenly teary eyed, his voice sounding a little higher than normal and rougher, too. “That’s good. Will you get the slick for me?” 

Steve kissed him one last time and went to find their hidden bottle of lube in a cupboard by the sink. 

Bucky wiped his eyes, thankful for the short interruption to gather his thoughts. He removed his shirt and jeans which were probably ruined with grass stains by now unceremoniously, feeling self-conscious in his own skin. It was still hot outside but Bucky felt cold in his nakedness without Steve there to distract him, goosebumps rising on his skin. 

His mind began to wander. Staring up at the ceiling he thought about everything that could go wrong. 

What if he panicked again? What if Steve looked at him down there and saw the scars? What if he was disgusted with them? What if he couldn’t get it up anymore? What if penetration still hurt too much to keep going? Could he keep that from Steve? 

The answer was yes, Bucky could take a lot of pain. He was certain of that. It was a proven fact after all he went through but when he thought about the way it had hurt when Ward had spread his fingers, too many and too fast...

“Ready?” Steve sat down on the mattress bedside him. He settled under the blankets and flicked off the cap of the half-empyy bottle of lube in his hand, the one they had frequently used before all of this, watching Bucky’s face like a test. 

“Yes,” Bucky said again, still wanting to do it but feeling a hell of a lot less sure than he let on.