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Two Unfinished Nonconsensual Works (MCU)

Chapter Text

Rework this story thusly:
Sam wakes up zipptied to chair, hands ziptied separately. At some point
Rumlow breaks his thumb, zipties his hands together, and pulls him onto
his knees. Sam thinks of Steve and works his hand loose out of the zip tie
anyway. OR NO rumlow zipties him to two different pipes, and having broken
his thumb helps him to get free, temporarily.

Rumlow ties him down while still tied to the chair, then pulls the chair away.

Thank Cait for the bondage suggestions.


Note: Rumlow actually doesn't do the interrogating, he's just here to capture Sam for the people who will.


It's This Way
("Beside the Point" used else when)

It was Sam's idea to split up, and there's part of him which is actually glad about that stupid-assed decision. The thing is, it means that when, as he's heading for the rental after his assigned tip doesn't pan out, an explosion blows him ass over teakettle and he looks up from the ground to see the car in flaming ruins, he thinks three things in quick succession: holy be blanking shit the car, at least Steve won't blame himself, and ow what was that prick in my neck --

-- and he doesn't have to realize until he wakes up that Steve's going to blame himself anyway.


Sam comes to flat on his back on a chilly rough floor, back muscles cramping in annoyance, wrists zip-tied separately above his head. To different metal pipes, he sees, glancing up into the gloom around him; the room smells dank and dusty, the painted-over windows and general ambiance suggesting a basement. He can feel his feet, and more zip ties banding his legs, and glances down his worrisomely naked body to find his left leg bound at ankle and knee to another sturdy metal pipe, his right crossed over it and zip-tied separately to the same pipe. All in all, Sam's done up like a kinky ad for zip-ties, and also cold and naked, his belly clenched with fear, and this really isn't looking like a good time.

Might as well get it over with. "Come out come out wherever you are!" he calls, because it's possible he's been left here alone but not all that likely when whoever grabbed him went to the trouble of blowing up that poor car. His voice bounces fuzzily off cracked walls and peeling paint, and he holds his breathing steady, his heart banging in his chest, and doesn't let himself shout again. Not yet.

Soon enough, a deep laugh answers him, then footsteps, just one set. "Awake already, kid?" Sam knows that voice, knows he doesn't like the speaker. "Good." He doesn't waste strength pulling at the ties, doesn't waste breath letting himself holler. "That gives us more time to play." He holds still, and his probable captor turns a hidden corner and strolls up. "Before our ride gets here." Long legs in dark denim, thick thighs, powerful frame, bare forearms laced with livid scars that glint in the low light.

Sam looks up at the squared chin, crisscrossed with more shiny scars running up the cheeks, the opaque sunglasses and and the bristle-brush hair mottled dark and white. Yeah, he knows this asshole. "Hey, Rumlow. Back for a rematch?"

Rumlow laughs again, low and nasty, and Sam forces himself not to tense. The anticipated kick hurts, crackling around his ribs, throbbing hot in his side, and he breathes through it, doesn't yelp, doesn't grin, just hangs on. Rumlow looks him over head to foot, slowly, meant to scare, and Sam keeps on breathing, in and out, in and out as Rumlow drops into a crouch by his head. "Might as well give up the brave act, Wilson," he says, lifting one hand to the middle of Sam's chest, his fingertips dry and rough over Sam's crawling skin. "Everyone thinks you're dead, you know. Soon it won't even be a lie."

Steve won't fall for it, Sam tells his aching heart, trapped between the hard floor and Rumlow's hard sliding hand. Natasha will help him find me. He wants to spit that into Rumlow's face, but there's strategic value to being underestimated, so he just rolls his eyes, refusing to look impressed, refusing to shudder as Rumlow feels him up.

[Rumlow feels him up, eventually says, "you have information we need concerning a misplaced asset of ours. We can do this the easy way and you can tell me everything you know about his movements."

"Or what? You'll scratch my eyes out?"

"Don't I wish we could start there. Such pretty eyes too. But no, we'll do this properly. You tell me now, and it's a single clean bullet and Rogers gets back what's left to bury, or you keep your pretty mouth shut and when we get you back to our secure location my colleagues and I will peel you open and pull out everything we want to know. It'll hurt, a lot. And afterwards, when we don't need you anymore, we get to play and you get to die slow and screaming. Think about it, Wilson. And then start talking."

"Honestly, you're not even worth name, rank, and serial number."

Rumlow beats Sam with his belt, jams fingers into the welts, mutters about missing his shock batons. Sees he's getting nowhere, asks Sam the 'just between you and me' question.

Note Sam's thoughts about resisting and staying alive and looking for his chance. If he dies, these last months have been good, with Natasha and especiallly Steve, his life's been good. But he's liking it now and he doesn't intend to lose it yet.


Notes from talking to J:
Rumlow has 2 questions: where is WS, and how did Sam get under Steve's skin. He tells Sam his Hydra peeps will be along to take them to a 'secure facility' and 'peel him open' to find out the former, and as for the latter… "Just between you and me, Wilson, how'd you do it? How'd you get in under Rogers' skin?"

Lines for Sam: Want a rematch, Rumlow? All you had to do was ask. And untie me.
"Or what, you'll scratch my eyes out?"
"I was his friend, something no squid Nazi would ever understand."


Rumlow tries to convince Sam he's fucked Steve, that they should 'share notes', citing the freckles on his ass. Sam says he saw them in the shower.

Rumlow asks where the wing pack is, Sam says, 'you gotta be kidding me if you think I'm gonna tell you."

from talking to D:

> Hmmmm. I feel like your basic punching/kicking options are going to be more
> pleasantly cathartic if Rumlow is feeling stressed, but shock baton is probably
> the most efficient pain-delivery system? Assuming he wants to, uh, soften him
> up a bit before getting on with the inevitable rape part of the proceedings.
> Were you thinking of something along those lines, or...?

Yes indeedy. (Hey, I can find that Dscription of an Agonizer I never used and
apply it to the shock baton!) Though I was actually thinking more of the
psychological stuff than the physical stuff.

I figure Sam and Rumlow have two basic conflicts here. Professionally, Rumlow and
his chunk of HYDRA want Sam's info on Bucky's location, which Sam is disinclined
to yield. Personally, Rumlow wants to know how Sam earned Steve's trust in 2 days
when he couldn't in 2 years (this is in a ficton where Rumlow tried to ingratiate
himself with / seduce Steve but Steve kept him at friendly acquaintance level and
turned down the sex. This Rumlow was totally going to rape Steve if given the
chance. Because that's an important characterization note.) Sam feels protective
of his relationship with Steve as another set of secrets to guard from Rumlow.

Entertainingly, I discussed this story with Manly Man J, and got some useful
notes abou male jockeying for dominance. Now I need to find them (literal notes,
on a scrap of paper)

nd also:
Right now I'm trying to figure out how Sam would weaponize his counseling
training and experience. I dearly want him to get under Rumlow's skin
enough to piss him off at least once, but I'm not sure how.

Diagnosing Rumlow? Telling him he understands why he's doing
this? Telling him ten sessions with a good therapist will get him past his
inability to get it up without causing somebody pain in the process? *g*

and also: Sam says when they fought he'd thought Rumlow was a narcissist, but it's the opposite, isn't it? He has barely any sense of self at all. Hence HYDRA.



Brock Rumlow/Sam Wilson
2014-07-11 11:19 am (local)(link)
"This is gonna hurt. There are no prisoners with HYDRA, just order. And order only comes through pain. You ready for yours?"

Something, anything, where Brock Rumlow makes it hurt for Sam Wilson.
▪ Reply to this Thread Hide 2 comments


Sam gets a tip on Bucky, he and Steve split up. He's heading back to his car when he sees someone sitting in it and then it blows up, and someone grabs him as he's stunned.

It's Rumlow, scarred and still hard muscled, saying Steve thinks he's dead and soon it won't even be a lie. Rumlow interrogates Sam as to what he and Steve know about the Winter Soldier, and gets nothing out of him. Rumlow ties Sam to a chair and beats on him, but not his face; Rumlow calls Sam pretty and smacks him with his dick; Rumlow rapes him. Worst of all, Rumlow claims to have been fucking Steve. And then Steve and Natasha bust in, because they figured out Sam was not in the car when it blew, and they have a newfangled tracking device on/in him.

Sam asks if Rumlow is dead, because if the asshole is dead after all he went through he will be PISSED. Rumlow's alive to be taken into custody. Steve gathers Sam up in his arms.


bit for Rumlow/Sam story]

Better yet: Sam calls him a Nazi and Rumlow is unfazed.

---------------------------- Original Message ----------------------------
Subject: bit for Rumlow/Sam story
From: [Me]
Date: Fri, September 12, 2014 1:09 pm
To: [Me]

stolen from a grump who doesn't deserve it

Ive drafted a scene very similar to this for Rumlow in a fic Im working on
(Im not a fucking Nazi. Im a militant fascist. Its not the same. Suuuure
its not. Shut the fuck up, Wilson.). Theres something incredibly amusing
to me about HYDRA agents being honestly offended when someone calls them
Nazis and trying to explain to this person (while presumably kicking the
crap out of them) why they totally arent Nazis.x



Title source;


Star Trek XI, any female character - It’s this way:
being captured is beside the point,
the point is not to surrender.


Igs's Captivity Prompt

> Your first prompt makes me want to write either my particular Gaila's
> first day at the Entertainment Center or the longest nineteen hours of
> someone's life. But in the mood I'm in I really shouldn't.

> It's a beautiful prompt, but then your prompts are beautiful.

Their reply was:

That first prompt is from a poem I taught this morning. (It is here if you
are curious.) It did immediately make me think of Gaila, but I decided to
leave it open unless someone else had an interesting take for another
character. I know I would love whatever you wrote, even if you did write
it just to channel some negative feelings, but I totally understand if
you are not in the mood.

And thank you for the compliment. I may or may not have a file of prompts
lying about on my computer.

Chapter Text

Yield Them Little

my version of my two Pervinca As Bait stories for Steve.

work in "I could do this all day"

(December 1944)

"Well, fuck," Sergeant Barnes murmurs, most sincerely.


December, on way to intercept Zola. Reference Blooming Nearby.

The Howlies are facing a well planned border checkpoint (look up setup. Design makes it hard to grenade from a distance). They can't go around except one at a time (note enfilade and defilade), they would need two days to backtrack, days they don't have. Steve offers himself, makes up a cover story as a lost private. Barnes says, "Hey, General Rogers, how do we get you back out?"

Hurried preparations. Gabe reminds him/checks to see he remembers how to say, "I am unarmed," "I am no threat", "I am lost" in german. Monty gives him a little button to stick on the door as near the mechanism as possible, to keep it from locking. Steve wants a kiss but knows if he asks Bucky for one he'll betray that he doesn't expect to come back. He breaks cover and trudges up to the checkpoint.


The Germans take him in, grabbing his arms.Five of them. He mock-protests and grabs door, planting little door-unlocker. They send two out to check for others and one to keep wathc as the last two start in on him. One grabs his chin and tries to stick fingers in his mouth. Steve was afraid of this, he was aiming for it, his resolve to play the part and not fight gets tossed out the window as he bites.They start shoving him around, and when he hits back they laugh and knock him down and kick him and rip up his uniform. One shoves a gun into his mouth and makes him hold still/fellate it as the other cuts his clothes off him (again, he thinks.)

They try to pin him on his knees but he can't help kicking backwards, and they turn him over ("Flip him. I will take him like a girl"). One kneels on his wrists and grabs his ankles, pinning him on his back down to the floor, another slaps him and fucks him on his back. Looks at his exposed asshole afterwards as spunk oozes down Steve's crack, the humiliation of it. When the first set swap and the others return he gathers himself and lets himself make noise to draw the attention of the one on watch. That one goes next, striving to drive sounds out of Steve, [maybe trying to get him to come]. Steve gasps and winces as the fourth starts his turn.

Four sets out to make Steve come. Steve's growing shock and dread as it seems the guy will succeed. Unwillingly comparing to Bucky. Drag of dick across prostate (not just prodded but dragged across). Guy succeeds and it blows a ragged hole in Steve's self-possession. Even the previous squid gang bang didn't do that. Steve insists, :no no" and gets told "doch" in return (a German negative-yes in contradiction to a 'no')

Fifth of five is nailing him when their barracks blows up, shaking the checkpoint building, and the Howlies arrive. One holding him down pulls a knife but a shot downs him. One in Steve is ordered away, and freed Steve kicks him till he climbs off. Steve closes his eyes and hears the shot, the man scream, the next shot that cuts off his noise.

Steve rolls to his knees, someone puts a hand on him and he punches blindly, he staggers to his feet, finally gets his eyes open, swaying on his feet. Struggling not to cry.

The Howlies rush to him. Steve comments that the Nazi soldiers ruined his uniform. Bucky takes off his coat, Morita recommends shirt instead. Bucky wraps Steve in his shirt, tucks them both into his coat and carries him. Steve says he can walk, Bucky says "I know" and carries him down the hillside.


Scene break.

Switzerland is neutral but many of its people are not. Tucked into a Swiss cottage, Bucky sits beside Steve on the couch Steve is on, tells Steve how when Zola had him captive they jerked him off before and after injecting him, tracking the time it took each time, and that he'd rather swim across the Atlantic than get strapped to that table again. That Steve's fucking brave and he's not doing this again. Steve says it worked, it's his job, Bucky says it takes too much out of him. Less than seeing you get killed would, Steve says. Bucky says he's got nothing to prove, he's done more than many men twice his size. Steve says they're still twice my size. Bucky says, "yeah, and you're worth five of any of them, to me Ten, fifty, a thousand." Steve says, "I'm not worth more than this mission." Bucky says that none of them are, but he heard Steve in pain and he can't hear it again. Steve says he was purposely being noisy to be distracting, Bucky says he knows because when he nailed Steve that hard he didn't make a sound. Steve looks at him ad punches his chest, curls into Bucky's chest, pounding him with his fists, managing not to cry. As Bucky holds him he says he didn't think he'd make ti through this war till he got Steve, and after this war he's going to make it all up to Steve. Steve says, "Will we know each other after this war?" and Bucky insists they will, and Steve unbends enough to lean into Bucky and accept comfort.

Bucky has to go. He leaves Steve with Dernier and Jones, and Jones translates as Dernier tells steve about fighting in a trench in the Great War. fade out.



What I said to S about this:

Long ago in a fandom far far away I wrtrote a bunch of stories for one
particular friend -- we formed kind of a two-person Shire Trash Meme,
trading stories about hobbits dealign with the year that the Ruffians
occupied the Shire. I wrote two stories about a hobbit doing just this,
distracting Ruffians by letting herself get caught and eventually rescued.
I always wanted to do it again (I just really lvoed the pov of a character
bravely going "this is going to suck" and then manipulating their captor's
sense of their helplessness while struggling not to come apart at the
seams),and then I realized 4F Steve was *perfect* for this sort of setup.


GAH I want to throw over everything I'm writing and just write this. I can
see it in my terrible little head, not least the moment just before the
Howlies bust in to retrieve Steve,when he's stuck on his back with one
Nazi soldier kneelign on his wrists and holding his ankles for the other
one while the two leaning satedly against the wall say aful things and
Steve grits his teeth and makes himself let out the hurt noises he'd
otherwise never give up, to keep all eyes on him and none on the road.
So, yeah.. I kinda want to write this one.

Link here:

Reference stories: