Trash Party Dumpster #1

[trashmod]

(Will be continued in a Dumpster #2 post if by some unholy hell-miracle this post hits the 5000-comment limit.)

Filthy anon dumpster for sad hobos to fling moldy pizza crusts, raccoon eye makeup tips, and garbage about their sad trash kinks at each other.

AKA the Hydra Trash Party kinkmeme. One hundred percent Hydra Party Favor Bucky Barnes, Is It Sexy Violence Or Violent Sex?, and Bad Guys Do Bad Things To Your Faves: Winter Soldier Edition. BLANKET NON-CON/DUB-CON WARNING, not safe for work, not safe for life, not safe for anyone, read at your own risk of becoming one of us.

Rules in brief: don't be a jerk except to fictional characters, warnings for particularly fucked-up garbage are nice but not required, thou shalt not judge the trashiness of thy neighbor's kinks unless thy neighbor is trying to pass off their rotting banana peels and half-eaten pizza crusts as a healthy romantic dinner for two, off-topic comments may be chucked out of the dumpster at management's discretion, management's discretion decrees that omegaverse, soulbond AUs, D/s-verse, non-superpowered AUs, etc. are off-topic.

Organization: hydratrashmeme Pinboard archive maintained by greenkirtle. If you fill a prompt, drop a link at the fill post. Discussion threads now have a chatter post.

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GO TO TOWN, TRASHBABIES.

Unholy hell-miracle achieved! Round 1 is closed; comments and fills in existing threads are still welcome, but all new prompts go to Round 2.

Comments

post-HTP Bucky is a stone top

[(Anonymous)]

After coming in from the cold and beginning to recover, Bucky picks up where he left off with Steve. In bed. But he has seventy years of nasty memories, and navigating that minefield is hard. He'll kiss Steve for hours. He'll rim and finger him (no one ever made him do that) or fuck him with toys. He's jerked him off one or twice, when he felt like he could handle it, but it doesn't always go so well. But the only one who ever touches Bucky below the waist is Bucky.

Re: post-HTP Bucky is a stone top

[(Anonymous)]

FUCK YES

noncon riding

[(Anonymous)]

The Winter Soldier's super strength isn't a result of a super soldier serum, but of absorbing a lot of super soldier semen. Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to be able to pass it on. So Hydra has to capture Captain America and have him come inside their designated future super soldiers. A lot.

Re: noncon riding

[(Anonymous)]

Ooooh reversal of the breeding programme. Do want.

WS/any sensory deprivation

[(Anonymous)]

My wants are simple: the Winter Soldier blindfolded, earplugs in, on his knees.

Do with him what you will.

Re: WS/any sensory deprivation

[(Anonymous)]

This is such a cool prompt. We've done so much with treating the Soldier like an object whose feelings are either of no concern or assumed to be non-existent. And all that is rad. But I think there is a lot of fun to be had if you have tormentors who are aware that he is a feeling person and want to fuck with that anyway. And this prompt highlights that - that his abusers might get off on what he is or is not sensing. It begs the question; what's worse... not caring how he feels, or caring and wanting it to hurt as much as possible?

seconded

Winter Soldier, Rumlow, Rollins - goth/bondage club, crack

[(Anonymous)]

Rumlow has his birthday during an assignment in Berlin or Barcelona or wherever cool nightclubs actually still exist. Since all three of them wear tac gear that's as sexy and fetishy as it is useful, they decide to go to to a bondage club all suited up. Brock and Jack spend the evening getting shitfaced and grabbing/manhandling women and even loving it when they get slapped/horse-whipped for their efforts. They order the Soldier to sit on a bar stool and be good, not to do anything even when men and women start petting, fondling, and humping his leg because he's just sitting there looking gorgeous. Also they make him wear the teflon mask because why not.

Bonus if Brock's flirting techniques get him into trouble with some lady's man and even though Brock could totally handle it the Soldier (protective as ever) goes apeshit on the guy.

Re: Winter Soldier, Rumlow, Rollins - goth/bondage club, crack

[(Anonymous)]

I didn't know I needed this in my life until this moment.

Next Best Thing

[(Anonymous)]

Y'all know the comic with Department X dressing the Soldier up as Captain America for a training exercise?

Can someone HYDRA dress him up for sexual purposes? Maybe they have a thing for being pounded by Captain America, maybe the STRIKE team wants to work out aggression by horribly degrading him.

Re: Next Best Thing

[dira]

I... have an alarming number of thoughts about this. Hmmm.

Kneel and kiss the rod

[(Anonymous)]

Some kinky fuck in Hydra decides that when the Winter Soldier gets punished for disobedience, he has to kneel, Victorian-boarding-school style, and kiss the rod that scourges him.

Can be taken literally if you want to write some heavy-duty caning, or metaphorically with some other torture implement or some other gratuitously submissive gesture of thanks. And, of course, if you want to top it off with the obvious dirty interpretation of "the rod," this is the trash party after all.

Shamelessly inspired by that bit with the mouth guard. And I'd love it if his reactions were similar--he knows the drill, he's resigned to it, but the resentment and even hatred are palpable.

Re: Kneel and kiss the rod

[(Anonymous)]

Holy shit yes!

Evil is Petty

[(Anonymous)]

Obviously the Soldier's chief secondary function in this dumpster is serving as a party favor. But are there other, ridiculous secondary functions that come with a super soldier they don't really view as human? Like backrubs or opening jars or serving as their barista?

Re: Evil is Petty

[(Anonymous)]

Oo, this could combine with one of the dress-up prompts if he serves as a prop in teaching agents a variety of disguises. And I can see some higher-ups really getting off on the scariest mofo the world has ever seen meekly serving them snacks.

Skinny Steve trash

[(Anonymous)]

The serum is somehow reversed (Hydra weapon, Loki, Dr Doom, naturally wears off - whatever plot device works) and Steve is stuck in his pre-serum body, all his myriad disabilities included.

Then Hydra captures him. (Or Hydra captured him first, then undid the serum once they'd run all their tests and taken his blood)

Cue standard Hydra trash party, with pre-serum Steve dealing with no hearing in his left ear, heart palpitations + arrhythmia + angina (chest pain), not being able to see properly (astigmatism + color blindness), scoliosis, anemia, and did I mention the asthma?

And then Steve has a severe asthma attack mid-rape. And heart trouble. And just general skinny-Steve problems.

Bonus: still brainwashed Winter Soldier (so pre-Insight launch, but otherwise any point in the timeline you want) rescues him, vaguely recognizing that protecting skinny Steve is a mission that precedes and overrides all others. (He still thinks of it as a mission - clearly he's on Steve's protection detail). Of course after Hydra's had their fun

Re: Skinny Steve trash

[(Anonymous)]

Interesting, may have to have a go at this one

Posted: Do Not Leave Unattended

[(Anonymous)]

You can't just fire people from Hydra, and Pierce doesn't like losing good operatives anyway.

When your workforce is made up of evil sadistic fucks, though, you're bound to run into problems with your smolderingly hot super soldier that will put anything you tell him to in his mouth.

The solution? Pierce has a list posted in every room of the facility with the names of all personnel that are not permitted to be alone with the asset. The list gets longer and longer every year, and eventually leads to obnoxious staffing problems.

[Fill] Do Not Leave Unattended [1/1]

[(Anonymous)]

Rollins is playing Candy Crush.

That’s a problem, because they have five minutes before they have to be in the van and the Soldier chooses now to make a low sound in his throat and tilt his head toward the hall with the restrooms. Rumlow would be inclined to ignore him, but the man doesn’t ask for things unless he has no choice. And technically it’s been fourteen months since the Soldier last had the opportunity to relieve himself. “Rollins. The asset’s gotta piss.”

“Too much information, sir.” Rollins doesn’t look up.

“Rollins.”

“He’s a big boy, he can take a leak on his own,” Rollins says. He’s still staring at his phone.

So is the asset, who looks tempted to throw it against the wall.

“Cortez is in there. Get your ass up.”

On the door of every room of every HYDRA facility Rumlow’s ever set foot in hangs a list. The formatting is always the same even when the language changes. NOTICE, it reads in red across the top, and then in black: DO NOT LEAVE THE ASSET UNATTENDED WITH THE FOLLOWING. Below that lies the ever-growing list of names.

The list was a mandate from Pierce, going on eight years ago now. It’s meant to prevent anyone from fucking the asset out of commission or short-circuiting his arm with too much lubricant, without having to dispose of HYDRA’s otherwise valuable operatives. What it mostly does is make scheduling lunch breaks really damn annoying. The list has grown at a steady pace over the years, but Cortez was one of the very first names on it. The agent was caught with an stun baton up the Soldier’s ass. He claimed he was trying to perform an emergency memory wipe.

“So let him go when Cortez comes out,” Rollins says. “I just started a new level.”

“If we had an hour, I would.” Rumlow feels the Soldier’s gaze snap to him. The man’s rocking a little in his seat. “But we don’t. So either put the damn phone down or explain to Pierce that we missed the target because you’re an asshole. We’re already running late.”

“Just think,” says Rollins, still tapping away at the touch screen. “If you’d been able to keep off his dick, you could take him.”

“I wasn’t on his dick, I was helping him change!” Rumlow ignores the increasingly imploring stare boring into him, glowering. Everyone on the list has an excuse. Rumlow’s is the only true one. He’s filed to appeal the placement, but everybody’s filed to appeal the placement. A year later and he’s yet to hear back.

Rollins smirks. “On your knees?”

“I was tying my shoes. Fuck off.”

There’s another low, grunting sound from the Soldier. Neither of them looks his way.

“Sure.” Rollins still hasn’t bother to raise his head. “And I guess it was Carmex smeared all over your mouth?”

“That was never proven!” Rumlow seethes, teeth grinding. “Sitwell made that up ‘cause he was pissed I caught him with the asset under his desk and you know it. Now haul your ass or we’ll have a repeat of São Paulo. And I’ll make you mop it up.”

“Have Murphy take him,” Rollins says. “I’m on a roll.”

“I’m on the list,” Murphy mutters, his gaze suddenly fixed on the cracks in the floor tiles.

Rollins finally looks up at that. Rumlow hopes he loses his game. “What? Since when?”

Murphy just shrugs, coughing.

“Since last week,” Rumlow says. “You didn’t notice they switched out all the signs?” He wonders how many trees die whenever HYDRA updates the list. It’s got to be a small forest’s worth at least.

“They’re always switching out the signs.” Rollins’s mouth is hanging open. “The asset was in ice last week, what the fuck is wrong with you people?”

“It’s not like that!” Murphy protests, red-faced. “I was just—I was planking on the cryo-tank, okay? One of the techs thought I was dry-humping it or something.”

“Probably because you had no pants,” Rumlow says.

Phone forgotten, Rollins buries his face in his hands. “Who even planks anymore? You’re all sick in the head.”

“I was drunk and Anders—”

“We can discuss Murphy’s regrettable life choices after the asset takes a piss.” Rumlow looks to his watch. Under two minutes before their transport out. “Rollins. Now.”

“Fine. Christ, I hope blowing him was worth all this micromanaging.”

Rollins barely stands up before the Soldier is off, knocking his chair over with the sudden burst of movement. He’s almost out the door in a single second without a look back and only Rumlow’s call of “wait” stops him. He can’t be in the hall unattended; it’s an automatic suspension for everyone on the team if he’s spotted alone.

“Don’t worry about washing his hands,” Rumlow adds as Rollins moves toward the Soldier pouting in the doorway. “We’ve got sanitizer in our packs. But for God’s sake make sure his fly’s zipped.” The last thing they need is for that to be forgotten in their rush to get out, and for Rollins to end up on the list as well.

Their transport is delayed by thirty seconds; they’re off the instant the Soldier’s in the van, before Rumlow and Murphy can fully close the doors. To say they’re speeding is putting it mildly. It’s not really a surprise when there are sirens on the interstate behind them, though that doesn’t make it any less infuriating.

No, blowing the Soldier was not worth all this.

Semen displacement and competition, HYDRA trash party

[(Anonymous)]

There's a theory that the morphology of the glans/coronal ridge acts to displace the semen of other partners. So at one of the HYDRA trash parties, everyone takes turns gang-banging the Winter Soldier until they can't get it up anymore. The last guy to ejaculate inside him wins.

(I'm completely serious, just put "sperm competition in humans" into Google Scholar, there have been all sorts of studies done on this.)

Re: Semen displacement and competition, HYDRA trash party

[(Anonymous)]

Yesssssss! Pierce is so not going to win this one... Hahahah

Rumlow's Fragile Masculinity (tm)

[(Anonymous)]

I have been swimming in the axe-body spray waters of Rumlow's fragile and incredibly insecure sense of masculinity all weekend and LOVING it. I want more! However you want to interpret that.

Give me Rumlow hating Steve with a passion because Steve won't talk shit about women
Give me Rumlow hating the Soldier because he gets fucked
Give me Rumlow casually and bitterly mentioning his failed relationships with women
Give me Pick Up Artist Rumlow
Give me "no butt stuff" but everything else Rumlow

Make it trashy - in any way you want. Drench me in Axe and terrible, horrible Rumlow.

Re: Rumlow's Fragile Masculinity (tm)

[(Anonymous)]

Oh God the first one especially. Imagine Steve and Natasha having another "you need to date" talk and Rumlow just keeps butting into to say ugly, obscene things about every girl she suggests.

Rumlow/WS non con petplay

[(Anonymous)]

PLEASE! I have a mighty need!!

Re: Rumlow/WS non con petplay

[(Anonymous)]

ooooh yeah, definitely not enough pet play around these parts

STRIKE pushup competition

[(Anonymous)]

Steve Rogers doing more pushups than the rest of the team combined.

And everyone being like, haha, oh, Cap, you're such a kidder, fine, Mr. Super-Soldier, you win.

And then going back to their secret Hydra base.

And fucking the asset with a stun baton until he can't walk.

Re: STRIKE pushup competition

[(Anonymous)]

Yep. never get enough of them taking it all out on Bucky. Especially like to think of Steve sort of guessing later that this shit happened and feeling horrible shame for being such a cocky jerk.

rumlow/steve

[(Anonymous)]

Because apparently I can't get enough of a Steve who gets off on being used and degraded -- I would love, love, love to see him getting that in an apparently consensual and unbelievably filthy relationship with Rumlow at some point before the big Hydra reveal.

+Crossbones talking shit to Sam/Bucky/Natasha/whoever about all the things he used to do to Steve and how much Steve loved them.

Re: rumlow/steve

[(Anonymous)]

Woah yes

Bucky, for obvious reasons, has trust issues

[(Anonymous)]

I want something from his point of view where he's trying to trust Steve, but keeps misinterpreting EVERYTHING as dirtywrong. And then has to slowly be convinced all over again that Steve isn't just like his handlers. Just always being triggered and having to rebuild his fragile trust.

I love the idea of reading about all the terrible things Steve is doing and being able to see they are actually innocent, but Bucky can't.

Re: Bucky, for obvious reasons, has trust issues

[(Anonymous)]

ooooooooooohhhh!

like: Steve has been in the army and seen Bucky's dick a million times - So when he's like, "here, hand me your drawers so I can throw them in the washer" Bucky backs up and grabs a kitchen knife.

And if they did lots of abuse grooming, then every time Steve buys him candy he crouches on the other side of the room and won't take his eyes off Steve.

Steve goes into the bathroom while Bucky's showering for a qtip and Bucky rips the shower curtain down to wrap himself in it.


This is great, OP, and you're right, from Bucky's point of view it would be amazing. Reading about Steve like he's a creep! Evil fun.

Unprompted fill: "The List", WS/everyone, Party Games

[(Anonymous)]

My dear fellow trash nonnies! I love the 'bend him over and let everyone have a go'-party favor approach as much as anyone, but I’m sure various party games have been booming too, inspiring me to write this. Hope you enjoy!
—-

subject: re:help

Brock,

don’t even try to pull the 'too busy with super secret world-saving missions'- card on me. I’m on Insight, nobody gets to tell me about surreal workloads. You’re lucky though, I had a list like you requested almost finished for personal entertainment, and I don’t mind sharing. I’ve added a few notes for you guys so that you don’t mess up. Who on earth made you the party planer though???

Debbie

ps I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it, so have a drink on me.

-

Suggested party games
(Annual general meeting 2014)

#1 Dip in
Material: two dice; one d6, one d20 (I KNOW you have some, don’t even try to deny it)
Rules: Players sit in a circle, asset on his back in the middle. One after the other rolls the dice and gets to thrust into the asset as many times as d20 indicates. With the d6 you roll mouth (even numbers) or ass (uneven numbers).

First one who shoots his load into him wins.

(if you can talk someone into custom-making a blindfold for him, check out these cute octopus patterns!! ;)))
[attachment squid01.jpg, squid_heart.jpg]

#2 Lip Service
Material: timer/stopwatch
Rules: Players stand next to each other, asset on his knees before them. He’s got 1 minute to suck each one off, who comes is out. Three rounds, afterwards everyone who is still in gets a go at his ass.

(That one’s for those of you who complain that the asset is too passive - try this and learn the meaning of enthusiastic blowjobs.)

#3 Hot Stuff
So I hear smoking indoors will be strictly prohibited this time?
The scientists did come up with some new form of electronic cigarettes, they’ll be handed out at the party.
Material: 1 cigarette per player
Rules: I’ve tried them - not the real thing, if you ask me. They don’t get as hot as real ones, either. But we’ve run tests, and if you press one to the asset’s skin, it takes almost exactly 90 seconds for the red mark to fade. See what kind of pattern or picture you can draw in 90 sec, maybe as a team effort?

(NO GIANT DICKS Brock - please push your imagination a little further than this, I know you can.)

#4 Good Cause
We’re collecting for Hydra’s single parents this year, so try to motivate the stockholders to dig into their pockets!

Material: permanent marker, anal beads (There’s a chain in the box from xmas, but I told the intern to cut off at least a third because shit, that was cruel. Besides, we need him functional by Monday. When they’re all in, he’ll still have a very visible stomach bulge, so don’t worry, ok?)
Rules: Asset on hands and knees. Everyone who wants to play makes a donation. Depending on the sum, the benefactor is allowed to push 1-3 beads into the asset and write a name on his back. When all beads are in and the asset is so full with it he looks positively pregnant, he gets to decide on a name. (Just tell him the beads won’t come out until he does.)
Let him go through as many names as it takes until it matches one written on his back.

The person who wrote the name gets to pull out the beads.

(Please, don’t forget he’s no fucking motorboat, so unless you wanna make him howl like one don’t pull out the chain as if you wanna kick-start the engine. Remove the beads slowly. No matter how much he squirms, if you do this carefully and in between let his body suck the one or other back in again, he’ll shoot off all over the floor, believe me.)

#5 Antidote
Material: Go to Dr Mendez from Research, tell him I sent you and ask for items 38a and 38b, he’ll give you a red and a blue bottle.)
Rules: I know we had this discussion before and I’m still swearing stone and bone that the asset hates taking it up the ass. I’ve tried to look him in the eyes while someone was at it several times, and he immediately drops his gaze to the floor. He’s ashamed, I tell you. That’s what makes this game so precious.

First, apply the content of the red bottle to the asset’s asshole. WEAR GLOVES. This poison is a special treat, it’s a highly efficient itching powder that can only be counteracted with jizz - make sure to tell him that. It makes the skin itch worse with every minute until the sensation becomes unbearable. So you can watch him go from shifting to begging to crawling and finally grinding his ass against the nearest table leg or something. Or trying to self medicate. ;D

That is, if nobody sticks it in the moment he begs for it. (Tell them to use the stuff from the BLUE BOTTLE as lube, or else they won’t have a very nice evening either.)

One or two loads are enough to counteract the powder so not everybody gets a go - maybe that’s more something of a midnight special, on the stage maybe as entertainment after the sparkling wine.

(If you want to put on a bit of a show, tell them to slip on a condom when he’s not looking. His face is gonna be priceless.)

#6 Touch me not
Material: /
Rules: Players divide into two teams. They take turns getting him off. Every team gets 3 times 10 minutes to make him come as often as possible, the team who scores higher wins.

(If you think that’s boring, wait until his nipples & dick are rubbed raw and listen to the noises he makes as they coax out yet another one. Actually - if I can’t make it to the party, will you record those whimpers for me? You’ll make my night!)


Btw, If you still don’t believe me that he’s capable of having emotions, stroke his hair when they’re carrying him out, tell him how well he did and that he gets a 10 minute break now before the next batch.
Watch his face. :D Point proven.

-

See you next week, take care and don’t get your feet wet in the ocean!

Re: Unprompted fill: "The List", WS/everyone, Party Games

[(Anonymous)]

Not sure whether the anal beads or the itching powder begging-for-cock is worse. WELL DONE, NONNIE.

Brock, Jack, Soldier, over-feeding

[(Anonymous)]

The Soldier needs to be fattened up for an undercover assignment(?) and Pierce orders Jack and Brock to take him home and feed him until he puts on a good twenty pounds or more. They have a month. Less maybe.

Cue them chasing the asset around with hot dogs and fried chicken, saying "yes you can do it, be a good boy and eat this", rubbing his belly and giving him pepto-bismol when he whines, and somehow being total bros about it the whole time.

Steve drops by unexpectedly at some point and they have to lock him in the closet with a bag of cheetos.

Re: Brock, Jack, Soldier, over-feeding

[(Anonymous)]

Oh, nonnie, this is such a great prompt, i'm dyin here

Sadist Rumlow

[(Anonymous)]

I don't know how many of my fellow trashbabies are aware of this glorious phenomenon: http://drop-deaddream.tumblr.com/tagged/sadist-rumlow-post but honestly about 90% of that tag could make for amazing trash prompts.

My personal favourite is the idea that after everything goes down in TWS, Rumlow reveals to the world that he and Steve had been in a relationship, not only outing him but accusing him of manipulating and taking advantage of Rumlow as his commanding officer. Plus outing and casting similar aspersions on Steve's prior relationship with Bucky.

This having been Rumlow's plan all along, he's made sure to drop in a few odd moments over the course of their relationship that will seem worrying in hindsight: times when he acted reluctant or nervous about things Steve did, idk. Things that are enough to make Steve genuinely wonder if he might have been abusing his position of power without realising it. And then Steve starts second-guessing everything that happened with Bucky too, because they only actually got together after Steve rescued him in '43. And wondering whether he might be doing more harm than good by trying so hard to track Bucky down and bring him back.

Basically I want Steve distraught about the idea that he could have been unknowingly emotionally manipulating/abusing people he cared about, all thanks to sadistic manipulative Rumlow.

Happy ending optional.

Re: Sadist Rumlow

[(Anonymous)]

Oh god yes, this is gold

You see the things you teach him?

[(Anonymous)]

After a successful mission, an extremely inebriated STRIKE team decides to change up the old trash party formula by teaching the Soldier to beg to give/receive sex acts in the filthiest terminology possible. They wake up terribly hungover and forget, in their misery, to tell the Soldier to be discreet upon return to base to deliver his mission report.

By the time they realize their mistake and head back to the lab, they find all the techs gaping as the Soldier cheerfully explains to an unamused Pierce what a rimjerk is, or just how loud he could make the Secretary howl if he fucked the Soldier's face.

Bonus: Maybe Pierce isn't even that mad about the trash party - it's just that he likes his asset quiet and sadly submissive, and now he has to live with the memory of that loud, filthy mouth.

Re: You see the things you teach him?

[(Anonymous)]

this is amazing

Little Trash Girl

[(Anonymous)]

A veritable cornucopia of used bandaids for a retelling of the classic Hans Christian Andersen story but with Bucky lapsing into a delerious reverie while getting prepared to be refrozen--and each one of his happy visions must correspond to something horrible and degrading being done to his body in the real world. If there is a lot of unscrupulous medplay, I will consider throwing in a lint-covered Cheeto to sweeten the pot.

Re: Little Trash Girl

[(Anonymous)]

not sure what story this is meant to be...

Desperation/Wetting/Humiliation FOR SCIENCE

[(Anonymous)]

I just found upon a psych study that says that (up until a certain point) people make better decisions when they need to pee. This sounds like a perfect research project for the distinguished team over at HYDRA's Trash Institute.

I want to read about how, as a part of his training, WS has to do stuff like disarm security systems or stake out a target for hours while trying to perserve what little dignity he has. Meanwhile, back at the lab, scientists are watching him squirm and taking notes while trying not to crack up.


100 BONUS GARBAGEBUX if you have an almost-made-it scenario where WS fumbles w/ the zipper or the bathroom door is locked and he ends up blinking back tears of shame as pee runs down his legs.

Re: Desperation/Wetting/Humiliation FOR SCIENCE

[(Anonymous)]

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

someone make this happen I'm begging you

comparing Rumlows

[(Anonymous)]

So Steve and Bucky have both spent a fair bit of time working with Rumlow, on STRIKE and for Hydra respectively. I'd love to see something that compares their experiences.

It could be total crack -- the two of them bitching about his body spray or something -- but I would be really delighted if it went in a trashy direction with Rumlow's treatment of the asset being a dark echo of the way he interacts with Steve.

Re: comparing Rumlows

[(Anonymous)]

And to clarify, by interacts with I mean fucks.

The A in HYDRA stands for Aristocrats

[(Anonymous)]

I just rewatched The Aristocrats and it is basically about the hydra trash party of dirty jokes--something that is great because it is, in and of itself, filthy.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Aristocrats

Anyway, imagine if you will, a group of people walk into a talent agency. It's Pierce, Rumlow, the Winter Soldier, and a large retinue of henchmen. Pierce says to the talent agent, "We have a really amazing act. You should represent us."

The agent says, "Sorry, I don't represent supervillains. They are too predictable."

Rumlow says, "Sir, if you just see our act, we know you would want to represent us."

The agent says, "OK. OK. I'll take a look."

[insert your prompt fill here]

For the longest time, the agent just sits in silence. Finally, he manages, "That's a hell of an act. What do you call it?"

And Pierce says, "The hydra tra Aristocrats!"

enemas, humiliation

[(Anonymous)]

With all the butt stuff HYDRA does to the Winter Soldier, they are fastidious about keeping him clean. Or maybe he can't eat regular food so they have to give him nutrient enemas. (Trash!anon would prefer if scat was not involved, or at least make that part happen off-screen.) Anyway I just want him whimpering and crying on a table as he struggles to keep in the fluids they fill him up with. Bonus points if they, you know, add in a semen supplement while he's still full.

FILL: Butt Stuff 1/maybe?

[(Anonymous)]

When the soldier had stopped shivering and passed the basic tests of his senses, coordination, and cognitive function, he was taken into a room with a steel table and a drain on the floor. The technician waiting there was wearing short-sleeved scrubs and blue gloves on her hands, and he knew what was coming next even before he saw the supplies waiting. He climbed up obediently onto the table and rolled onto his left side--facing her--and curled his legs up a little.

He shivered again as he did it.

"Westfahl." The tech in scrubs--Mercer, he knew, just like he knew what was going to happen next, with no memory of how he knew--gestured to one of the security agents escorting him. "Spot me while I check his temps."

Booted footsteps and a certain displacement of the air followed this command, and the soldier knew a burly man had come over to stand directly behind him. Mercer's first check was only the movement of her hand by his ear; for the second he watched her swipe thick lubricant over a narrow probe. He drew his right leg up toward his chest, and Mercer flashed a quick, dazzling smile at him.

"You remember the drill, don't you? This part isn't so bad."

That was true. This part wasn't so bad. The penetration of the probe into his anus was slightly chilly but slick and almost painless. He barely had to try to steady his breathing and heart rate while he waited for Mercer to finish checking his internal temperature.

"Warm enough," Mercer announced, pulling the probe back out of him, a slippery uncomfortable sensation that was only a hint of what was coming. "Should be nice and hospitable for your new friends."

The soldier didn't take any notice of her words--people weren't really speaking to him when they used that tone of voice, just going through the motions for their own entertainment. He only needed to listen for commands.

Behind him, Westfahl said, "New friends?"

"Tiny, very important friends," Mercer agreed, reaching into a warming container and drawing out a bag of fluid, already attached to the hose with its nozzle on the end. She hung the bag on a stand and moved around to the soldier's back, standing beside Westfahl. The soldier heard another set of slick sounds as she lubricated the nozzle.

"Cryo-storage kills most of his gut flora," Mercer explained briskly. "They're necessary for digestion, particularly for the production of certain nutrients that we don't get directly from food. If we don't want him developing nutritional deficiencies, he has to have a proper suite of gut flora. So we culture them while he's in storage and top him up once he's warm enough for them to survive."

The nozzle wasn't really that big, but he still made a high-pitched noise in his throat--a whimper--when Mercer pressed it against his anus, forcing it into him.

"Relax, now," she said, setting her other hand on his hip as she wiggled the nozzle inside him, making sure it was correctly place. He couldn't help clenching tight around it, trying to resist even when it was already inside him. "It hurts less when you don't fight it."

He made an even smaller noise then, drawing his right fist up against his mouth to try to silence himself.

"It's all right if you need to make noise," Mercer added, as he felt the first warm rush of liquid into him. "You're allowed during procedures."

He kept silent for several seconds. The fluid was warm, and it felt strange inside him but not painful, almost good in an unsettling way. He relaxed a little into the not-hurting of it and Mercer's hand rubbed rewardingly on his hip.

But the rush of fluid didn't stop, and the mounting pain of over-fullness sharpened suddenly into a cramp like a knife in his gut and the certainty that he was about to shit himself. He curled slightly around his belly, letting out a strangled moan, and the fluid still didn't stop, filling him impossibly. The cramps pulsed through him, freshly stabbing again and again, and he rocked a little, flexing his legs, trying to get some relief even as he held himself tightly closed around the obstruction of the nozzle, desperate not to empty himself here in this clean room in front of the pretty tech and all the watching guards.

Mercer's hand shifted down from his hip to his belly, and he sobbed out loud at the first press of her fingers.

"Please," he gasped. That was a word he was allowed to say, he knew. Stop and no and don't were forbidden, but he was allowed to say please when he couldn't help shaping his cries into words.

Mercer moved around to his other side, leaving the nozzle in place, fluid still pouring into him. She pressed her whole hand to his belly, rubbing where the pain was the worst, and he squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his cheek hard against his metal wrist to keep from shaking his head, chanting hopelessly, "Please, please, please," against the stuff pouring into him and Mercer's hand touching it through his skin.

"His abdominal muscles have enough tone to resist distention, which creates terrible internal pressure," she said, just noises somewhere above him. Her fingers pressed harder. "Relax, now. You need to relax or it hurts much worse. Let your belly push out a bit, the fluid has to go somewhere. Look where my fingers are--" her tone sharpened into clear command at that, and he opened his eyes and looked, saw the perfect curves of her nails under the blue gloves as she pressed in against his belly.

"These muscles, you must relax them," she insisted. "The fluid wants to make your belly pop out, you have to let it."

He concentrated, whimpering, on doing what she ordered despite the pain, and watched in sickened fascination as his belly swelled visibly under her touch. She went back to rubbing gently with her whole hand, and the pain did ease a little, the cramps leveling off. He realized that he couldn't feel any more fluid pushing into him; he was filled up.

Mercer reached into the warmer and pulled out another bag, passing it across to Westfahl, and the soldier closed his eyes again as he listened to the small sounds of it being hooked up.

The next rush was warmer and hurt even more. He couldn't hold it all in, he knew he couldn't, and Mercer was still pressing against his belly, moving her fingers in some purposeful pattern now, pushing everywhere it hurt. He wasn't making words now, just animal noises of pain, drooling against his metal wrist because he couldn't close his mouth, couldn't stop crying out.

"There, you've taken it all," Mercer said, flashing him another shining smile as he sobbed, trying to hold still for her probing hand. She moved around behind him, and he felt her fingers against the nozzle and let out a high-pitched wordless sound.

Not a word. He wasn't allowed to say no or don't. He wasn't allowed to tell her that if she took the nozzle out he wouldn't be able to hold all that fluid in, that he would empty his guts over her hands, making a mess of her and himself and everything else.

"Tsk," she said. "Don't cry now, you can do it, just hold on."

He shut his eyes and concentrated, clamping down tight around the nozzle as her fingers twisted it out of him. He felt an ominous wet trickle, but no more, and then Mercer came over to prod at his belly again with her gloved hands.

He couldn't help squirming more now, and he knew vaguely that he was allowed, now that there was no nozzle to risk dislodging. He tried to twist onto his back, but Mercer said sharply, "No!" and he froze, still on his side.

"You can turn the other way if you like," she told him, and he took her offer, rolling belly down and dragging his curled legs under him to keep from actually pressing his swollen gut to the table. He let his head hang down as Mercer moved around him.

"Up a little more," she directed, and he pushed up on his knees until she could reach easily under him, pressing against his oddly rounded belly from below, setting off another wave of stabbing cramps.

The soldier whined, hunching his hips in as he clenched tight, fighting the urge to release, trying to relax the muscles of his belly while he held tight everywhere else.

He heard the snap of Mercer removing her gloves, and she came around to his head. She brushed a hand over his ear, as if taking his temperature again, and then touched the back of her hand to his cheek where it was wet. He was crying, he realized, tears streaming uncontrollably from his eyes. His cheek felt fever-hot, too, flushed bright from the effort of not letting go in front of everyone. The skin of her bare hands was soft.

"There, there," she said. He didn't look, but he knew she would be smiling that pretty smile again. "Now all you have to do is wait. Twenty minutes should be sufficient for good absorption."

He sobbed again at the thought of waiting twenty minute. He wasn't sure he would make it through the next twenty seconds. He rocked a little on his knees, but the cramps only got sharper, and he keened and tensed against the threat of letting go.

"Westfahl," Mercer said. "You stay and keep an eye on him. Call at once if he springs a leak; we'll have to start all over if he loses more than ten percent before time is up."

"Ma'am," Westfahl agreed, and the soldier watched through a fresh wash of tears as Mercer and two of the guards left. There was only Westfahl watching him now. Only Westfahl to see if he lost control.

A thick finger tapped lightly again his tightly-clenched anus, still slick from the nozzle.

"Twenty minutes," Westfahl repeated thoughtfully. "Huh."

Winter Soldier/Rumlow - omoroshi/desperation, watersports, dubcon, violence

[(Anonymous)]

Give me a Winter Soldier who's fascinated with the mechanics of control and how the people around him function (shame, emotion, etc).
Rumlow may officially be his handler, but everyone knows it's the Soldier who's really running the show since he figured out that his handlers aren't allowed to do anything that might put him out of commission. Rumlow can punish him, or try to, but the Soldier enjoys the pain, and it's worth it to force him into situations where the Soldier can watch him lose control over even himself, slowly and agonizingly.

Bonus points if it happens in front of the rest of the strike team.
Any other kinks are fine by me as well, no matter how dark or fucked up.

(crossposted from avengerkink)

Re: Winter Soldier/Rumlow - omoroshi/desperation, watersports, dubcon, violence

[(Anonymous)]

Hhhhhnnnnnng