capkinkmod: (Default)
capkinkmod ([personal profile] capkinkmod) wrote in [community profile] capkink2014-02-11 08:29 pm

Prompt Post 1

Remember to title your comments, use appropriate warnings (or "choose not to warn"), and be civil. Embeds are not allowed.

At least one of the characters in your prompt must have been in Captain America: The First Avenger or Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

As of May 3, 2014, the spoiler policy is no longer in effect.

Update, April 22, 2014:
For fills, please use the following format:
Fill: Title
Including the pairing, warnings/CNTW, and any other information after the fill and title in the subject line or in the first line of the comment.

Page A Mod
Delicious Archive
twinkats: (Default)

Fill: Baby, You Shouldn't Be Alive [5/7?]

[personal profile] twinkats 2014-05-19 11:49 am (UTC)(link)
It happened after Steve showed up and dragged him from the table. After they’d gone off to have drinks and Bucky felt like the invisible fly on the wall. After Steve asked him to join his group of morons out to hunt down HYDRA and stop them. It happened after weeks and weeks of being careful, of taking down guys before they could get a hit on Steve, of protecting Steve and pretending he didn’t remember Steve dying in his arms.

Bucky knew now that this was real. Steve was alive and he’d come back from the dead and he’d probably come back from the dead several times over the years Bucky knew him, and several times before that even, and now Steve was something different, bigger, larger than life but it was wholly Steve. He was still that scrawny ass punk that once sucked him off in a back alley (Steve thought he didn’t remember, he did) and who meant so much to Bucky that Bucky didn’t even know what it was just that life without Steve would hurt and it had hurt.

They were out taking down a HYDRA outpost, as usual, when it happened. It was the catalyst for everything after. Bucky had been placed up on a rock ledge, the best position for a sniper like him. He was alone, camouflaged by plants and leaves and pressed flat into the rock. He picked off targets one by one, kept his scope around Steve except Dernier was in trouble and then Dum Dum and fuck Morita can’t you guys watch your six? Bucky got distracted so he didn’t notice until he swung back to Steve and saw him crumpled on the ground a smear of red placed at his forehead.

Bucky had never moved faster than in that moment. His breath hitched and his eyes went wide but he didn’t freeze he moved. The urge to protect Steve had grown stronger and stronger and stronger since that first HYDRA base since Steve rescued him from hell and a table and nothing more than a repeat if name rank serial number. He scrambled down rock and he took aim at HYDRA agents with just a glance and a pull of the trigger (they each went down with headshots) as he raced over to Steve.

Steve wasn’t breathing, but then a bullet through your skull would do that to anyone. Bucky crouched down, double checked anyway, and then grabbed Steve by the arm. He looked at the others, each occupied with their own task or with just staying alive, and with a snarl of, “Goddammit punk,” Bucky hauled Steve up until he had him wrapped around his shoulder and began to drag him from the battlefield.

Steve began to breath again as soon as they hit the trees. Bucky scraped away the dried blood with his nails and grabbed Steve by the back of his head and pressed his face to Steves until they where forehead to forehead nose to nose.

“Fuckin watch your six, punk,” Bucky snarled and Steve stared at him in that wide eyed and confused haze of just waking up.


“You can’t keep doin this to me,” Bucky said, his voice pitching lower. “Fuck, Steve.”

“What--” Steve started but Bucky pulled away. He gave Steve a look that said we’re havin’ words later and then he hauled up his rifle and took quick aim. Fifteen rapid fire shots with minute adjustment took care of the rest of the agents distracting the rest of the Commandos and then they regrouped and headed back toward camp.
That night, when the Commandos commented about the blood on Steve’s helmet, Bucky brushed it off for him.

“One of those HYDRA goons got too close so when I shot ‘em Stevie got hit with the spray,” Bucky said this with a grin, full of teeth and vicious. He was like a rabid dog at times, dangerous with how bloodthirsty he appeared. When the others settled down to sleep was when Bucky pulled Steve off to the side.

Steve didn’t understand what Bucky was doing until Bucky shoved him into a tree.

“Do you have a fuckin death wish?” Bucky hissed between his teeth, pressed close and face inches away,

“Buck--” Steve started.

“I looked away for just one goddamn second and I found you dead on the ground Rogers,” Bucky snarled. “Dead from a headshot.” He watched Steve pale.

“Bucky I can explain--” Steve started but stopped when Bucky laughed a low, crazed sort of sound.

“I figured it out after you got me off the damn table,” he said and pressed his face into Steve’s neck. “After I got my head on straight enough to realize I wasn’t dreamin. Realized that you i>died in my fuckin arms right before I shipped out. Realized this’d probably happened more times than I can count fuckin punk.

Steve didn’t reply at first. He worked his mouth, let Bucky keep him pressed into the wood of the tree until he closed his eyes.

“What am I?” he asked, an almost plaintive sound releasing from his throat. It was a question he asked himself the older he got when it became impossible to ignore that he just didn’t stay dead. That every moment he thought was his last, God chucked him back into his broken and beaten body and forced him to move on. That he wouldn’t see his ma, and that one day Bucky was going to die and Steve would be all alone, unable to join Bucky.

“A fuckin miracle,” Bucky muttered. “A god damn bona fide miracle.”

“I’m not,” Steve muttered. “I’m not a miracle, Buck. I’m cursed.”

“Ain’t no such thing,” Bucky hissed back and pressed his lips to Steve’s throat enough to give Steve pause. “Can’t be.”


“You’re too fuckin good to die, that’s what,” Bucky said, and pulled back. He stared at Steve, his face utterly serious. “You’re thinkin God keeps shovin you back down because there’s somethin wrong, but I’m tellin you that ain’t it, Rogers. You keep on wakin up because you’re too fuckin good to stay dead. Do you understand me?”

Steve squeezed his eyes shut.. He hissed, “Buck,” because there was nothing more than he could say. Bucky saw the tears gathered in the corners of his eyes and pressed a kiss there. It was spontaneous, and it was wrong (what if they saw, the others, what if they saw) but it felt right.

“Don’t you ever do somethin so stupid again,” Bucky said. “Don’t you ever leave me.”

“Buck, I--”

Oh just shut up, Bucky thought, and then pressed his lips against Steve to do just that. When he pulled back Steve looked terrified, looked pale, so Bucky just said, “You think I was pullin some sort of joke when I said ‘till the end of the line, pal?”

That was all that needed to be said.

(Steve promised to never do it again, and Bucky threatened that if he ever did he’d shoot him in the head when he woke up, and then shoot him again after that until Steve got it through his thick skull that Bucky couldn’t survive it again; when Steve drove the plane into the ice months, weeks, years later Steve figured Bucky could forgive him this because Bucky was dead, and maybe this time he wouldn’t wake up)