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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

“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" 3/3

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This is now posted! :D

Re: This is now posted! :D

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