hydratrashmeme | Trash Party Dumpster #1

Trash Party Dumpster #1

(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.

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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.

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Bucky's fingers pinch the inside of his thigh and he yelps, jumps in Bucky's hands.

“I told you to be quiet, soldier, follow orders or face the consequences.”

And Bucky in his uniform said things like that once or twice, Bucky back in Brooklyn gave orders sometimes, and there was always something behind that word, always sparkling eyes or whetted appetites behind the word 'soldier' when it's spoken like that.

“I don't follow orders,” Steve says, automatically, completely because he's used to bantering with Bucky, and it earns him another pinch, higher up, closer to his balls and he won't last long like this.

“You'll follow these ones,” Bucky says, and it's almost like a blindfold, having his head back so far; he can't see anything except the kitchen ceiling.

“Bucky, listen to me, there's a trigger, this isn't you-”

One long, slow stroke of his cock and Steve's eyes are fluttering shut again.

“Last time, Stevie,” he says, “you better do as you're goddamned told.”

“Bucky,” he rasps, because Bucky has to hear him, has to get past this.

He gets a slap to the face, hard enough that he wonders if there's blood, and he realizes the throbbing in his head is because Bucky's let go of his hair, is because it must have been the metal hand that struck him. And over the ringing in his ears and the dizziness that's come from having his head so far back for so long, he registers tearing fabric – Steve's only wearing slacks, and cotton boxers, and neither hold up to the metal hand, even while the other one is shoved into the middle of Steve's chest, skin against skin.

“Servus,” Steve tries, and Bucky pinches the inside of his thigh again.

Steve whines and Bucky does it harder.

“Quiet!” he says incredulously. “Don't make me really punish you.”

“Desiit,” Steve says, breathless already, and Bucky pinches the head of his cock this time.

The only reason Steve doesn't yell is because he can't, it hurts too much, but then Bucky's mouthing at his neck and saying, “good boy,” and Steve's face turns red hot as his cock twitches. “So much better, I knew you could.”

He's always been a sucker for praise and now is so not the time, even as Bucky's voice starts to fill his head proper.

“Hmm, look at you,” Bucky says, as though he's a work of art, “being so good for me.”

And Steve's cock twitches again against the denim of Bucky's thigh. He bites his lip to keep from speaking, to do what Bucky wants.

“You're gonna do what I tell you,” Bucky says, “and if you're good, I'll let you come.”

Steve wants that so badly it's an ache already, a deep throb in the pit of his stomach and Bucky's here, Bucky's right here, if he could just-

This has to stop, he wants this to stop, but he can't think of anything else he can say that might be enough to make Bucky stop. Every time he's wrong he'll get punished, and he should hate that prospect more than he does.

“Thank you,” he hears himself say, almost automatically, and Bucky's metal hand grips his jaw, other hand dropping away to come back a moment later sharper against his throat, colder and-

Knife! Steve's mind registers with a jolt of shock.

“It's a good thing you're so polite,” he says, “or you'd have to pay for speaking without permission. And it's 'Sir,' do I make myself clear?”

Steve knows distantly that he's got two choices – he either keeps trying to find words or he complies until the programming sees itself through, and a little pain might move things along but he doesn't like getting slapped hard by a metal hand, doesn't like the knife that's barely there but still waiting against his throat.

He feels more than exposed, more than fearful because Bucky is strong like this, and if the conditioning is what's making Bucky use existing memories to turn Steve on, then Bucky's memories might tell him Steve has the serum and might make Bucky think he doesn't have it himself, and Steve is half naked and actually does have his cock out against Bucky's thigh right now, so if Bucky thinks he can let loose on Steve, Steve might be in one hell of a lot of trouble.

And maybe what he has to do is let this happen, ride this out, let Bucky reach his objective.

And if all Bucky wants him to do is comply, if Bucky's going to do exactly what he's implying, then that's no so difficult, and Steve could forgive him that, Steve hopes Bucky will forgive him that, because there's no way he's punching his best goddamn friend in the face when there's a knife at his throat and it's his own fault his in this mess anyway.

“Yes, Sir,” Steve whispers, and the tips of Bucky's metal fingers whisper along his jawline.

“Good boy, Steve,” he says, and Steve bites his lips as another rush of warmth follows the shame. “Stay still.”

And Bucky draws away from him – it takes one hell of a lot not to whine, not to follow even now – Bucky stands up in front of him and his hand is on the fly of his jeans, a darker patch on his thigh where Steve's cock has been leaking precome there, and Steve feels his mouth water, looks up in case Bucky can tell what he wants.

“Good boy,” Bucky croons again, nice and slow, dragging his zipper down and Steve lifts his hands to Bucky's thighs only for Bucky to grab his hair, knife glinting in his flesh hand. “Put your hands behind your back.”

Steve blinks once, scrapes his teeth over his lower lip before wetting it, and places his hands behind his back, following the order not because it's an order but because it's Bucky, and Bucky has a knife.

As soon as Steve's got his hands behind his back, Bucky smirks, picking at the buckle on his belt.

“You seem like the type who needs a little help doing as he's told,” he says, and the rasp of leather over denim as he pulls the belt from the loops is almost as terrifying as he way he holds it. “Lean forward.”

Steve does, slowly, because he's pertty sure it's going on his wrists but not entirely sure Bucky won't just wrap it around his throat, and he tries his damnedest to think of something he can say or do to kick Bucky back into being Bucky.

Bucky just leans over him, looping the belt around his wrists and drawing it tight, and it shouldn't be that easy to do, there should be more give, but Bucky's been trained in things like this – he knows what he's doing and it's getting ever more obvious that he's got plenty of experience.

“Now,” Bucky says once Steve's hands are secure, and he eases his cock from the confines of his underwear – and Bucky always did have a gorgeous cock, as much as Steve feels his face burn the second his brain catches up with itself; he knows there aren't many people these days who are still uncut and Bucky isn't hard yet, only getting there. “Get me up, sweetheart.”

Steve bites back a moan at the epithet and stares at Bucky's cock for a second or six, startled into action when he toe of Bucky's sneaker presses his own cock against his stomach. He's got zero experience of this, not even any idea what it feels like, let alone how to perform. But he's heard things about watching your teeth and using your tongue and he ducks his head to get the tip of Bucky's cock in his mouth.

It tastes like skin and salt and the way Bucky smells when he wakes first thing in the morning – not unpleasant, just rich and heavy on his tongue – and Bucky stares down at him impassively when he dares to glance upward.

It doesn't work for long, Bucky's cock is heavy and not yet full, so it slips from Steve's mouth when he tries to take it in a little more. The toe of Bucky's sneaker pushes up a little and it hurts, the rough running-shoe tread against flesh Steve really wishes wasn't so hard.

“Sorry,” he whispers, and Bucky pushes harder. “Consto, I'm sorry, Sir,” Steve amends, and Bucky tuts, narrowing his eyes – if he heard the Latin, it didn't register.

“Why are you still talking?” he says through gritted teeth, and Steve swallows hard as the blade of the knife flicks up into his field of vision.

It's the hardest thing in the world not to apologize again out of habit, but Steve forces down the urge and tries again, nuzzling at Bucky's cock because any kind of stimulation has to feel good, right? Even if it's just...

“Like that, don't you?” Bucky says. “Like just being close to it.”

He opens his mouth a little, tries to wet Bucky's cock so that he can do something useful, and Bucky's cock finally begins to harden against his mouth.

“That's it,” Bucky says, his voice low and encouraging though the knife is right by the other side of Steve's face, “good boy.”

Steve fights down a shudder and keeps going, licking and sucking down the length of Bucky's cock and back, more kind of kissing it, and he feels like an idiot even as it rises. It's longer than he remembers, full without being too thin, and it stands straight where Steve's own curves upward, the head darker as Bucky's foreskin retracts.

“Suck the head,” Bucky says, “nice and hard.”

And Steve does because he's been told to and it's easier to follow orders right now, seals his lips around the head and sucks as hard as he can as he looks up, and Bucky's mouth falls open, his brow furrows.

“Yeah,” he says, stroking the palm of his hand back along Steve's cheekbone until he can cradle the side of his head with warm fingers.

He eases his hips forward just enough that Steve gets he should be opening his mouth for it, and then the unfamiliar weight in his mouth Bucky's cock slides into his mouth is matched only by the unfamiliar slow slide of hot skin on Steve's tongue.

Bucky draws back, hand sliding to Steve's forehead to grab the short hair of his bangs.

“Satis,” Steve says, staring up at him, and Bucky narrows his eyes.

“Open your mouth,” he says, and Steve doesn't.

He shakes his head, very slowly and keeps his eyes on Bucky.

“Claudeo,” he says instead, and Bucky bares his teeth.

A moment later, the tip of the knife is being pressed to the underneath of Steve's chin and he feels his eyes go wide.

“Open. Your. Mouth.”

And Steve swallows hard, staring up at a man he doesn't know who's wearing Bucky's face, and this isn't fair, they've come so far.

“Bu-” but he never gets to finish, the end of the word a strangled, garbled mess of sound as Bucky shoves his cock into Steve's open mouth and doesn't let up.

He sinks in all the way until he's in so far Steve's nose is buried in the short, dark curls at the base of Bucky's cock, and Steve can't breathe past it, chokes and expects Bucky to pull back but he doesn't, and he tries to cough but it doesn't work, Bucky's cock is in the way of the muscles. It starts a rebellion in his stomach, one that feeds itself as it crawls up his throat until his eyes are watering, and it's only when his vision starts to swim that Bucky pulls back, hand still clenched in Steve's bangs.

Steve can't stop the wracking coughs that shake him, but Bucky keeps his grip on Steve's hair as Steve fight not to vomit all down himself and Bucky.

“I'm gonna fuck your mouth, Stevie,” Bucky says, and Steve coughs again because he can't stop, can barely see through how hard his eyes are watering.

“Wait-” Steve says, but Bucky doesn't, and it's just as bad this time, if not worse – Bucky holds onto Steve's head to keep him still and Steve just doesn't have anywhere to go as Bucky's hips snap forward against his face, and he chokes each time the head of Bucky's cock hits the back of his throat, knows he's gagging too hard and too frequently to stop himself drooling.

“Don't fight it,” Bucky says, and Steve can't help it, isn't used to this and doesn't want it but somehow Bucky's aware of all of that, “come on, sweetheart, just open up, just a little, you can do it-”

And it's not easier then, when Steve tries to focus on oxygen instead of stopping whatever's happening, but it's less terrible, though his eyes still water.

“I'm...” Bucky grunts, pulls Steve's hair hard enough to hurt, “I'm gonna come,” he says, “and you're gonna swallow it.”

Steve would moan around Bucky's cock if he could, but he can't, and he manages to look up to see the hazy face of his best friend looking down at him, looking nothing like his best friend.

Bucky's head tilts back, his hand still anchoring Steve's skull to keep him exactly where he wants him, and then Bucky's driving in once, twice, a third time hard enough that he cuts off Steve's air, spilling down his throat with a noise that's as restrained as it could be attractive.

Steve's got no choice but to swallow because there isn't anywhere else for it to go and, when Bucky finally pulls away, Steve coughs so hard it sounds wrong, deep and grating from the center of his chest and it's slick and tastes of bitter salt and-

Bucky drops down to his knees to bring his face level with Steve's, the knife clattering away somewhere and, for an instant, Steve thinks maybe it's over, maybe they're done. And then Bucky's kissing him, lips smearing the mess in his mouth and on his chin, hands cradling his head like he's precious.

“You did so well,” he croons, “you did so good, you make me proud of you.”

“E-Exspecta,” Steve manages, his voice rough and his throat aching, burning, and Bucky laughs.

“Come here,” he says, leaning back, and Steve shuffles awkwardly on his knees because Bucky grabs at his hair again, tugging him away from the cupboard.

When he risks a glance down, he finds that he wasn't as successful as he thought – come and saliva track down his chest towards his straining cock and his clothes are in tatters. There's fabric around his arms and his legs but the rest is moved or torn away, and he feels miserably exposed – moreso than he might if he were naked because this is what Bucky's done, this is how Bucky's left him. Torn apart and used without even bothering to undress him completely and Steve follows Bucky's movements when he stands again, hunching over on himself when Bucky moves out of his eyeline.

“Bucky,” he rasps, the words thick in his mouth, thick with Bucky's come, “stop it, please, stop it-”

“Naw, sweetheart,” Bucky answers from somewhere behind him, and there's the sound of metal, and the sound of movement, and then Bucky's kneeling behind him, pressed right up against the back of him. “And leave you hangin'?”

And then there's cold hardness on his stomach and Steve looks down.

Bucky's picked up the knife again.

“You worry so much,” Bucky whispers in his ear, yanking Steve's bound hands back so they're flush together, so that Steve's head is practically on his shoulder and Steve has no leverage at all. “Look at how hard you are for me.”

And Steve knows he blushes all the way down, got teased mercilessly for it by anyone who saw it, but he can feel it now, heat all the way down to his toes. He can feel sweat soaking the backs of his knees, can feel it between his shoulder blades and in his hair, and the smooth coldness eases down.

“No,” he whispers, “d-don't...”

“Shh,” Bucky soothes, his breath warm on the shell of Steve's ear, and he bites a second later.

Steve forces himself not to move as the smooth edge of the blade travels horizontally up his straining cock.

“B-Bucky, d-don't-”

“Trust me,” Bucky says, long and low and smooth, and Steve looks down because he can't believe this, holds his breath because it's a goddamn knife. “You want to come?”

Steve bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut as he rocks his head back against Bucky's shoulder, and he doesn't know any more what kind of training this is, whether Bucky's going to keep his promise or have Steve singing soprano, and it's way more terrifying than he thought anything could be, such a base, instinctual fear, a please don't hurt me there that has his nerves fraying in seconds.

“Relax,” Bucky says, and how he can sound so calm like this, Steve will never, ever understand – not if he lives through this, not if he remains intact through this.

“Buck,” Steve gasps, the word soft and high so that he's using as little air as possible, moving himself as little as possible.

“Look,” Bucky says against the side of his neck, and Steve doesn't want to, doesn't want to see what's going to happen. “Look at it, Steve, or I'll give you something to stare at.”

And that's enough, that makes him open his eyes and look down to where Bucky's flesh hand holds Bucky's knife to Steve's dick and, for just a moment, the pressure of the blade grows heavier. Steve has time to think oh God, he's gonna cut it off and I'm gonna watch him do it! before Bucky's flesh hand swings out almost faster than Steve can track, and the knife clatters off across the far side of the kitchen.

When his hand swings back, it's to grasp Steve's cock so hard he sees stars, and he can't help moaning as his back arches, hips snapping forward as Bucky slides his hand right down and back again.

“Want me to wait?” he says, and Steve wants him to stop, never wants him to stop, wants to curl up and die and a thousand other things, but what happens is,

“Bucky!” and Bucky laughs at him again, low and smooth and rumbling so deep in his chest that Steve feels it through his back.

Bucky's metal hand lets go of the belt, of Steve's wrists, and circles around him, sweeping up through the mess on his abdomen, and Steve's mouth is slack enough, his lips bruised enough, that two of Bucky's fingers slip right in.

“Suck them,” Bucky says softly, and Steve blames his watering eyes on the torment he's already been through as he does as he's told, cold saliva and semen on his tongue.

A moment later, Bucky's doing it again, and this time he takes his hand back and-

Steve couldn't name the strangled cry he gives when Bucky's fingers start to circle his hole, didn't even know he was that exposed, but he doesn't get a chance to get used to it before the cold, slow drag of Bucky's finger is pushing past the ring of muscle.

Bucky flexes his metal finger, and how in hell, and then he doesn't even give Steve chance to understand.

His flesh hand squeezes tight and moves, so fast it's blinding, so fast Steve can't breathe out or in all the way before he's trying to do both at once all over again, and he can feel it winding up in the pit of his belly with the shame and the need, feel it coiling up inside his spine, feel it buzzing in his thighs.

“Parere!” he half-sobs.

And Bucky goes absolutely still.

The silence rings in Steve's ears, heartbeat roaring like thunder, breaths coming hard and fast, and Bucky doesn't move. Steve's body is still straining, held on a knife-edge, and isn't that ironic? Bucky's breathing quickens, and Steve can almost hear the shock and the horror on his face, but the sweat is starting to cool on his skin and his mouth still tastes of salt and he can't do anything now; his legs are numb and his body's bowstring tight. he wanted this to stop and now it's stopped and he's not sure he can live through it.

He shakes his head, and he hiccoughs helplessly.

“Please, Bucky,” he whispers, “please...”

And the few seconds of nothingness that follow feel like weeks, like years, and then Bucky's finger flexes inside him and Bucky's wrist flicks up twice and Steve's back bows and his head falls back and his mouth falls open and he comes so hard the world goes white.

~

“Jesus,” Bucky's whispering, somewhere distant, somewhere way away from wherever Steve is. “Oh, Jesus, Jesus, Steve, oh, God!”

And Steve feels his body moving but knows he isn't doing it himself, feels his limbs shift and then there's pain in his hands and the world tilts and something stops him, turns him before his legs are killing him too.

“Stay right here,” Bucky tells him, “I'll be...”

Bucky sounds like he's going to be sick and Steve can't think to remember why, only knows that it's over now.

“Christ, Steve, I'm so...don't move,” he says, “don't move, I'm gonna get...the first aid kit and I'll clean you up and then....oh, God, oh God, I'm sorry Steve.”

Steve thinks he might be drooling and the tile is cold and hard under his head, the lights are bright way up there on the ceiling and Steve still isn't sure what happened but he doesn't think he could move if he tried.

“I won't be long,” Bucky's voice says, further away and more frantic, more panicked, “I won't be long, just hold on, just stay right where you are.”

And he's probably well out of the room by the time Steve manages to force a thick, slurred, “yessir,” past his swollen lips and coated tongue.

not OP but JESUS. FUCKING. CHRIST.

I AM GOING TO NEED MORE BUNKS. OR AT THE VERY LEAST A LOT MORE TIME IN THIS ONE.

JUST. HOLY SHIT.

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

*Burrows down deep into this lovely pile of trash* I want what you're having! This is absolutely fantastic.

UNNNNNNF *fans self*

Oh my god, this was perfect. There were times I had to look away from the screen, it was so intense. Wow. Thank you so, so much for writing this!

Fucking hell.

Christ, that's good.

WOW THIS IS GOOD WOW WOW

YES *Rolling in trash intensifies*

Not the OP, but this was absolutely BEAUTIFUL. I've been dying for noncon with Steve and fuck my sideways, this is perfect. And the ending. Oh god. Help me. I've fallen and I can't get up, I need life alert, you glorious human being you.

Knives, Latin and cryptic crossword clues? Thank you for wasting all these lovely things on us, anonymous.

Whoa that was beautiful

Begging in grammatically correct Latin holy fuckballs

holy jesus god this is so amazing in so many ways <3

like seriously i would be totally down to read the follow up to this with all the feels and maybe some more porn

So many fucking pluses.

I was just about to beg for a sequel myself, because feels. Please, dear author? I really, really need some angst and awkwardness.

Hi there, this is now up on my ao3 page over here (http://archiveofourown.org/works/1808368) :)

Thanks so much for all your lovely comments :D Come talk to me over on the ao3!

Dear, dear author. I absolutely loved your piece! So perfectly written. Might you be convinced to write a continuation? Part 3 ended with Bucky hating himself and Steve realising that he's actually into being submissive; it'd be absolutely delicious to read a part 4 where they then talk about what happened, and maybe come to some sort of agreement? If you would like to write such a part, of course. :)

OOOOO-!!! OOOOOOOH NOOOOO! If you could hear the noises I am making, oh my god!!! OOOOOOOH, I don't know how to feel, how to react, my loins say yes, but everything about that was so NOOOOOO. *weeps a little for them both and dives into the garbage can*

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Trash Party Dumpster #1

Dom!WS FILL - "Four Across" 2/3

Dom!WS FILL - "Four Across" 3/3

Re: Dom!WS FILL - "Four Across" 3/3

Re: Dom!WS FILL - "Four Across" 3/3

Re: Dom!WS FILL - "Four Across" 3/3

Re: Dom!WS FILL - "Four Across" 3/3

Re: Dom!WS FILL - "Four Across" 3/3

Re: Dom!WS FILL - "Four Across" 3/3

Re: Dom!WS FILL - "Four Across" 3/3

Re: Dom!WS FILL - "Four Across" 3/3

Re: Dom!WS FILL - "Four Across" 3/3

Re: Dom!WS FILL - "Four Across" 3/3

Re: Dom!WS FILL - "Four Across" 3/3

Re: Dom!WS FILL - "Four Across" 3/3

Re: Dom!WS FILL - "Four Across" 3/3

Re: Dom!WS FILL - "Four Across" 3/3

Re: Dom!WS FILL - "Four Across" 3/3

Re: Dom!WS FILL - "Four Across" 3/3

This is now posted! :D

Re: This is now posted! :D

Re: Dom!WS FILL - "Four Across" 3/3