couldn't get the boy to kill me
Fandoms: Captain America (Movies)
16 Apr 2019
Steve Rogers is a sad fucking man, but he’s a solider down to his bones, and Bucky’s always been weak to that particular combination of tragic eyes and fistfuls of blood.
That’s why he’s plastered to the walls and incapable of looking away from Rogers’s heaving chest and cracked knuckles. He doesn’t speak a word, doesn’t even dare to breathe loudly until a vicious punch from Rogers sends the poor bag flying across the room, spitting sand everywhere. There’s no startled sound from Rogers. He doesn’t even freeze, just huffs like he’s inconvenienced by his inanimate victim’s inability to withstand the pounding.
Bucky bites his tongue so he doesn’t offer himself as a replacement.
Bucky makes a bad decision that snowballs in predictable fashion.
- Part 1 of couldn't get the boy to kill me
23 Jan 2019
It’s a hell of a sight, Captain America pinning you to a wall, his hand tight around your throat.
The public would have a conniption, seeing him like this. They’re used to the good Captain being violent in defense of all that’s good and right in the world, but they couldn’t handle this wild, angry man, the sharp teeth bared in a snarl, or bright blue eyes blazing with fury. There’s no righteous rage here, no noble sacrifice, only a man stripped bare of kindness and restraint, feral with the need to sink his teeth into something and make it hurt.
This isn’t Captain America. This is Steve Rogers, and he might leave his stars and stripes when he peels off the suit but his hands will always be red with blood, and they’re now wrapped around Bucky’s throat, a threat and a promise.
Captain America and the Winter Soldier are teammates. Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are…complicated.
- Part 2 of couldn't get the boy to kill me
21 Feb 2019
He’s on Bucky before the laughter trails off, digging his fingers into the pretty, easily-bruised flesh of his throat. These days, Steve’s palm remembers the shape of Bucky’s neck even when they don’t see each other for months. He almost likes it.
Under him, Bucky’s quiet and still, the guarded silence of a cornered predator. There’s no fear in his eyes. There never is. Steve shifts his hold so that he’s got Bucky by the scruff of his neck, warm skin and soft hair bunching under his grip. Bucky’s throat clicks when he swallows, and Steve wants to shake him until he screams.
“Fuckin’ around when it’s just us two not enough for you, Barnes? You gotta drag the rest in too?”
Bucky grins, wide and carefree, and Jesus, Steve wants to bite this boy bloody.
Steve, willingly trapped in a vicious cycle.
- Part 3 of couldn't get the boy to kill me