Sleeping Arrangements

The Phone Call (5/?)

Pairings: collegehockeyplayer!steve rogers x female reader (Cappy x bug)

Warnings: idiots in like, banter, innuendos, teasing- lots of teasing, explicit language (must be 18+)

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: not beta read. All mistakes are my own.

Cappy and bug: hockey AU

Lucky Charms: hockey AU

"Bug?" Cappy answered the call after the second ring, "you OK?"

"I won't take money from Mary" you exhaled, chewing at your thumbnail as you sat cross-legged in your bed. Your room was pitch black, save the light from your phone screen. You finally gave in and called Cappy after you had been tossing and turning for nearly an hour.

"...um... good?" Steve laughed, getting up from the living room couch and making his way towards the stairs.

"Cappy... where are you going? It's your turn" you heard a women's voice whining in the background.

"You're busy" you exhaled, rolling your eyes, "I shouldn't have called."

"No, bug! I'm glad you called" you could picture Cappy's warm smile, "that's... nothing. It's movie and game night and some friends of the guys came over."

"It's almost 2am..." you frowned.

"Yeah" Steve agreed, making his way up the steps to his room.

"On a Wednesday" you added.

"Yup" he confirmed.

"You do movie and game nights until 2am on Wednesdays?" you asked, "what about classes or practice?"

"The team has late start on Thursday's" Steve said, pushing his bedroom door open and finding Gretzky curled up on his bed. Steve crossed the room before sinking down gently next to the small sleeping cat.

"Everyone on the team?" you asked.

"Everyone on the team" he confirmed, smiling into his phone, "you could come sometime" he offered, "if you're really that worried about our sleep habits..."

"I wasn't..." you huffed before Steve cut you off.

"I'd definitely stay in bed if you tucked me in..." you could almost hear his eyebrows waggle while he mercilessly flirted.

"Meatball" you rolled your eyes, fighting the urge to smirk at his ridiculousness.

"OK..." Steve shrugged, "But seriously" his laugh was warm before he cleared his throat, "you could come over for a movie night... the rest of the team would be here... not just me... it would be nice."

"No thanks" you said, shooting him down -too quickly- before thinking better of it, "but... it's not... I don't... I mean..." your exhale was heavy, struggling to find the words, "I don't hate you."

"Good to know" he laughed, "if you change your mind, next week's movie night is Gremlins."

"Gremlins?" you snorted, "that weird 80s movie with the gerbil things?"

"They’re called Mogwai" Steve corrected, laughing, "it's Storm's favorite movie from when he was a kid... I picked Goonies for mine..."

"Oh... well I guess that's kinda cool" you smirked.

There was a long beat, but it was a comfortable quiet.

"So... what's up, ladybug?" Steve finally asked, breaking the silence.

"I... couldn't sleep" you said, narrowing your brows as you faltered for only a second at the new term of endearment, "I know you're trying to be nice... but I won't take Mary's money..."

"You keep saying that" Steve's brows furrowed with confusion.

"Well... it's true..." you were determined.

"Bug... can ya help me out here?" Cappy quipped, "I know that beautiful brain of yours is a lot bigger than mine... but I'm not following."

You felt your cheeks heat as you ducked your face, resting your cheekbone on your knuckles and smiling so hard it made your face hurt.

"Oh... uh... yeah" you sputtered, "well, Frank said the team raised money for Mary last year. If the adoption drive is taking away from fundraising for Mary, I don't want to do it... I won't" you clarified.

"Is that it?" Steve's voice was warm, sighing with relief.

"Well... yeah" you said, "I couldn't sleep."

"You in bed, bug?" that peaked his interest.

"Yes" you said, rolling your eyes at his suggestive tone.

"Me too" he smirked, hooking an arm under his head as he leaned back on his pillow.

"If you ask me what I'm wearing... I'm gonna hang up on you" you threatened.

"The fundraiser won't be taking any money from the fund we have set up for Mary" Steve clarified, smirking at your empty threat.

"Good" you sighed, relief rolling through your body as you sank back into your bed, eyelids feeling heavier, "thank you..."

"No problem, sweetheart" Steve's bedroom voice had a low timbre to it that made you shiver, "I'll talk to you to..." he started.

"Did you remember the shirts?" you interrupted his goodbye.

"Yes, I remembered the shirts" he smiled, "but I got something tomorrow morning so I asked Sam if he could run them over to your place" Steve said.

"OK... I have a class at 10, but I'll be here before then" you confirmed.

"Yup, already told him he needs to be there at 9 to catch you before you leave" Steve said.

"How did you..." you started to ask, fighting back a yawn.

"Your itinerary" Steve smiled, "you added your schedule in case we needed you... I gave you mine too... on a post it in your new planner."

"I saw that" a small smile spread across your face, "along with your hockey schedule- dates and times of all your games... you even let me know when you'd be away."

"Well... I figured you'd want to know for when I ask you on a date" Steve's laugh made your heart flutter.

"Who said we're going on a date?" you goaded.

"Well... hopefully you" Steve laughed, "I've got a five step plan to win you over..."

"That's nice" you sighed, only half hearing him as you started to drift off.

"Night, bug" Steve murmured into the phone.

"Wait!" you rolled over on your side, not wanting to end the call just yet as you cradled the phone gently to your ear, "will you tell me something? Tell me something about Cappy that not many people know..."

"Like what?" he laughed.

"Something you don't use to impress" you smirked, chewing your bottom lip.

"Ummmm... l dunno... I hate peas" he laughed.

"Boo... everyone hates peas" your words were slightly slurred with sleep.

"You're cute" Steve's voice was so soft you almost missed it.

"You're cute" you shot back sleepily before your eyes snapped open, "I mean... I..."

"You think I'm cute" Steve teased.

"No" you chirped, "I was half asleep!"

"You think I'm cute... no take backs..." Steve continued taunting.

"I'm hanging up" you said, half-heartedly.

"No!" Steve laughed, "OK… OK… something no one knows about me? Um... I was a really sick kid... like really sick" he offered, "bad asthma and always had that croupy kinda cough. But my Ma's a nurse and took me to the best doctors around. They told her to try cold air in the winter when my croup got real bad. It's how I started skating when I was around 3... and then I got stronger and started hockey when I was a little older" Steve said.

"Wow... Mr beefcake meatball? A sickly kid? I would have never guessed" you teased affectionately.

"Yeah, hockey's made my lungs stronger. I still have exercise induced asthma but it only gets real bad if I gotta do shifts back-to-back" Steve said.

"You learned how to skate when you were 3?" you sounded a little shocked.

"Yup" Cappy shrugged.

"I don't know how to skate" you yawned.

"Well, we're gonna have to change that" Steve smiled.

"You wanna teach me how how to skate?" you snorted with laughter.

"Yeah" he shrugged, sitting up and leaning against the wall.

"I can't picture you teaching anyone how to skate" you laughed.

"Hey... I've helped out at mini mite camps back home" he said, "I'm gonna teach Mary too" he continued, "gonna get her her first pair of skates... and no figure skates, hockey skates."

"Can Mary even walk?" you smiled, your stomach doing a flip at how cute Steve was with Frank's niece.

"She's crawling and pulling up on the coffee table" Steve said, "she'll be ready soon."

"That’ll be cute" you smiled into the phone.

"You can come watch" Steve offered, "if you want... I can teach you both..."

"Frank wouldn't mind?" you asked.

"Not at all... Frank really likes you... he's never that... not cranky" Steve said with a laugh.

"He likes me?" you smirked, "maybe you could... give him my number..." you goaded.

"Really?" Cappy huffed, not sure if you were serious or not.

"Yeah... I mean he's really cute" you smirked, "and then there's Mary" you teased.

"But I introduced you to Mary!" Steve grumbled.

"You think Frank would teach me how to skate?" you were just being mean now.

"Really?" Cappy's voice went up an octave.

"No... you doofus! I'm messing with you" a fit of sleepy giggles followed before you added, "as much as I know I'll regret it... I kinda have my eye on another meatball" your heart was kicking against your ribcage.

"I knew it" Cappy sat up, pumping a fist into the air as he jumped up from his bed, scaring Gretzky in the process, and doing his go-to goal celly.

"Don't ruin it" you whined, rolling your eyes as you laughed at the image of him celebrating around his room.

"So... you wanna come over after the game this weekend?" his excitement with palpable.

"Won't Bonnie or any of your other adoring fans be disappointed?" you smirked.

"No" Steve shrugged sitting back down on his bed before his tone dropped serious, "I'm not seeing anyone. Frank wasn't lying... I haven't had a girl over since that night."

"Bully for you" you voice was dripping with sarcasm, "you know that's not really an accomplishment, right? Most people aren't bedding a new person every night..."

"Bedding a new person" Steve snorted.

"What?" you frowned.

"Nothing... I just like the way you talk..." he smiled, "you remind me of Frank."

"I remind you of your best friend?" you asked, "isn't that weird?"

"No" Steve shrugged, "I kinda like it."

"So... say I do come over... what will we do?" you asked, "I'm not showering with you..."

"Like just this weekend or ever?" Steve asked.

"What?" you squeaked.

"You'd never shower with me?" Steve smirked.

"What?... I... no" you felt your cheeks flush with warmth.

"Never?" he pressed, "not even if you were my girlfriend?"

"When was the last time you had a girlfriend?" you scoffed.

"I don't know..." Cappy said, "when was the last time you had a boyfriend?"

"About a year ago" you said, "he... it was long distance and just didn't work out. He said I didn't make enough time for him... that I wasn't a good girlfriend."

"Hmmm" Steve's tone didn't give much away.

"What?" you chirped, embarrassed at your lack-of-sleep induced overshare.

"I think you'd make a good girlfriend" he said it so matter-of-factly that it made your stomach flip.

"How would you even know?" you smiled bashfully, rubbing at your tired eyes with the back of your hand.

"Only one way to find out" Steve smirked.

"Oh... you're good" you scoffed, "gross... you’re too good at that" you cringed, "so that's how you do it?"

"Do what?" Steve asked.

"Get all the ladies?" you said, "you're using your meatball charms on me..."

"What? Meatball charms?" Steve snorted, "no...I'm... we were just talking..."

"So... how many has this worked on?" you smirked, "how many women are you just talking to at a time?" you asked out of curiosity.

"I mean... I don't know... do you want a list?" Steve asked with a nervous exhale.

"Is that how you keep track?" you asked, honestly.

"Geez, bug" Steve choked, "you really think I'm that bad?"

"What you do is on you... no judgment" you said.

"Bullshit" Steve shot back, "you've been judging me since we first met..."

"I have not" you chirped.

"Who gave me the charming Captain Meatball nickname that I just can’t seem to shake?" he smirked.

"I... oh, shit" you laughed, "you're right" you confessed with a heavy exhale, "well… if it makes you feel any better… I know now that there's more to you then just a meatball that sleeps with everyone in sight."

"Thank yo..." Steve started.

"A teeny-tiny bit more..." you interrupted him with a giggle.

"Whatever" he laughed, leaning back on his pillow and rolling his eyes playfully.

"I wouldn't normally mind... about who you're sleeping with" you pointed out, "the only reason I care is because..." you paused.

"Because?" you could hear the curiosity in his tone.

"Because I guess I kinda like you" you surrendered.

"That wasn't so hard" Steve laughed as you rolled your eyes, "you know I wasn't always like this..." he offered.

"Like what?" you asked.

"I had a girlfriend all freshman year and another one sophomore into the first part of junior year... and then after Frank left the team... I dunno... I just started hooking up with random girls..." Steve offered, honestly.

"I'm sorry" you whispered, "it must have been hard to watch your best friend go through that.. to lose him on the team."

"Nahh" Steve shrugged, "what he's had to deal with was so much worse... losing his sister, taking on Mary... his family's no help and he's not even sure when he'll finish school..." Steve's voice was strained with emotion and it made your chest tighten.

"I'm sorry, Steve..." you said, "we don't have to..."

"No... I'm glad it came up..." he cleared his throat, "I like talking to you, y/n."

"I like talking to you too, Steve" you smiled.

“Think that’s the first time you’ve used my real name” he smiled into the phone.

“It’s a nice name” you yawned, stretching your arms up over your head with a squeak.

"Oh, shit" Steve cursed, "it's real late... I'm sorry!"

"It's OK" you yawned again, "you don’t have to go…”

“I’ll talk to you soon, sweetheart” his laugh was light and warm.

“I'll talk to you soon” you sighed.

"Oh and uh... I tweak the tshirt order a little, but I think you'll actually like it..." Steve said.

"Wait?" You shot up in your bed, "Steve what did you..."

"OK, sweet dreams, bug! Byyyeee" he rushed before the line went dead and the call ended.

"Damnit, Crappy!" you cursed, falling back on your pillow with a huff.

The hockey divider was made by the lovely and talented @firefly-graphics ❤️

As always, thank you for all the love and support. Please check out my archive blog where I only post new fics @drabblewithfrannybarnesfics ❤️

drifting (6)

[cw!bucky barnes x female!reader]

summary: bucky saves the life of a woman when she’s buried in an avalanche. faced with the possibility that his cover might be blown, bucky must keep the woman alive, and try to keep her from finding out who he is… or what he’s done.

how long can he hide?

warnings: angst. reader is hurting. bucky is an idiot* (*scared).

word count: 2.5k+

a/n: some of you called the angst coming... here it is, babes.

series masterlist

***

I’ve been compromised.

She sits on the porch, wrapped up in Bucky’s coat with the sheepskin lining, and his hat jammed over her ears. Her phone is propped up on the railing, so she can see if the notification pops up, but she can’t hold it in her hands anymore. She sent the message ten minutes ago–the chat indicated that he had seen it, but he isn’t responding. If she were out on any other mission, he would already have deployed emergency protocols and replied in seconds. He’s slacking.

But she’ll wait, because she can hardly look Bucky in the eye. He hasn’t been able to manage more than a grunt in response to her since she told him her theory about meeting in the Red Room. He just got up, put the kettle on, and smoked a cigarette in just his sweatpants and a light t-shirt. So she did the only thing she could think of (or at least the only thing that needed to happen, according to her training), and she reached out for help.

Steve was vague about what should happen if she and Bucky ever crossed paths, because that wasn’t on the agenda, so it’s not like there was some grand plan if he found out who she was working for. Usually in this case, she would take her principle out. That was so far from an option that the thought of having to kill him makes her dizzy. The frigid air helps her stay focused, but she can’t feel her fingers.

The feeling of Bucky’s hands on her face is still present on her tingling cheeks. The way he clutched at her, wordlessly begging it all not to be true.

The phone buzzes, finally. Steve is calling.

“Steve.”

“What happened?”

“He found my phone,” she admits, casually leaving out the part where he discovered it because he was in bed beside her.

“Okay. Are you safe?”

“Yes, I’m safe,” she scoffs. “He’s not a monster.”

“I’m just trying to assess–”

“I know how this works, Rogers.”

“I’m sorry it took a moment to get back to you. Fury has declared you AWOL. I just got out of a meeting—”

“Did you know?” she demands, and then she curses herself for not quelling the anger which is rapidly bubbling to the surface. The man on the other end of the phone sighs.

“--action will begin shortly for your recovery.”

“I don’t care about a fucking desertion designation–did you know that I knew him?”

“...Yes.”

She laughs wryly. “You sent me on recon knowing it might compromise us both–”

“Y/n, I sent you because you are the only person who has ever broken him out of his programming, and if he gets triggered, you’re his best chance to stay in control. I didn’t know that you didn’t remember.”

“That wasn’t in my assignment!”

“It was the worst case scenario.”

“I walked around that compound thinking I was being ridiculous. I slept with his photo next to my bed, feeling like such a creep–”

“Is he stable?”

“He is great, no thanks to you. Might never speak to me again after finding out I’ve been lying to him, but in my defense, I didn’t know how covert the lie was.”

She glances over her shoulder. Two clear blue eyes are watching her through the window. He doesn’t even try to play it off like he wasn’t listening in. She nods to the door. If he wants to listen, he might as well hear it all. She presses the speaker button as the front door opens. Bucky stands there stiffly, hands in his pockets.

“What do you remember?” Steve asks.

She sighs. “Not much. I think… I think they forced him to hurt me.”

Bucky huffs.

“That is consistent with what information Nat found.”

“I can’t believe that you sent me here without figuring out what I knew.” she peers at Bucky out of the corner of her eye. “Before I got to know him, I just thought I was feeding off your concern for him, but all this time I’ve been acting on muscle-memory–how well did I know Soldat?”

“Does he remember anything?”

“Some,” Bucky murmurs.

“Very little,” she translates. “I swear to god, Steve.”

“Is he there?”

Bucky shakes his head.

“No.”

“Alright. Just thought I heard something. Nat could be more specific–”

“I don’t want to talk to her.”

Steve takes far too long to respond. Enough time that she looks up to Bucky in panic, but he nods, like reassurance. Like he’ll tell you, just give him a second. It occurs to her then that Bucky still knows Steve, and that’s why she’s here. Isn’t it? At least in part. But she isn’t ready for the breadth of this secret which Steve has unknowingly kept from her, and when he still doesn’t answer, even after Bucky holds up his hand to stay her, she sighs.

“Steve–”

“I don’t know everything,” Cap says softly. “But you knew him better than most people. Maybe even me.”

“You’re not serious…”

“Apparently when Nat found you, you were being treated for a stab wound in your abdomen, in a small hospital outside of Bucharest. You didn’t know how you got there, but you kept asking for him. You didn’t even recognize Nat at first. All the nurses could get out of you was ‘my love.’ She didn’t suspect his identity until she found reports about the Asset breaking his programming for a top-level trainee at the Red Room. He was pulled from active service and HYDRA discontinued his involvement in the Academy, but not before he was given the order to kill the woman to whom he showed preference.”

She runs a hand over her face. “Why don’t either of us remember? Steve–I went through six months of rehabilitation and I never had one flicker of a memory. I don’t even have a scar.”

“Self-preservation? I don’t know. Maybe it was too painful.”

Bucky is nowhere to be seen when a hot tear splashes on her hand. “More painful than finding out I loved someone I don’t even remember?” she murmurs, and she prays that Bucky isn’t listening around the corner. Super-soldier hearing is a plague on this conversation, in more ways than one.

“I’m sorry. I–Nat made it seem… you weren’t even going to meet him.”

“Unless he was triggered. Which it seems like you expected. Did neither of you think about what would happen to me?” She huffs. “

“Your mission, now–”

“I’ll make sure he’s safe, but I’m not doing it to make you feel better. You compromised me. If something goes wrong, worse than both of us having to cope with this, it’s on you. Okay? Great. I’m going to go try to persuade him to eat something. Be sure to send me more information about who’s coming after me so I know whether to use the pocket knife from World War 2 that Bucky loaned me–” her voice wavers on the name she hasn’t called him the entire time she’s been here– “or a fire poker, because my pack is at the bottom of this mountain with my gun. Which of those things do you think would be best against Iron Man, or whoever Fury’s about to send?”

“I’ll have a supply pack airdropped–”

“And compromise us more? The psychological damage was generous enough, but thanks anyway. I’ll contact you once we’re safe, but… I don’t know if you’ll see me again. I can’t speak for Bucky, but. I wouldn’t blame him for disappearing, too.”

“Y/n… you have every right to be upset, but there’s reason to assume that HYDRA is still looking for him. Let me help you.”

“You think I haven’t considered that? What’s going to happen if they find us together? Or did it slip your mind that they ordered him to kill me? I said I’d keep him safe. I can’t–I can’t talk to you anymore. Leave me alone. And Steve? Tell Natalia that she broke my heart.”

She hangs up the phone and tosses the basically indestructible thing onto the wooden slats. She puts her face in her hands and screams.

“Come inside.”

She starts. Bucky is back, at her side, hand outstretched like he’s going to touch her shoulder, but he stops just short. He stares at the ground.

“Please look at me,” she whispers. “Jamie–I’m so lost, here…”

“It’s supposed to snow,” he replies. He reaches for her phone, and hands it back.

“Are you angry?”

Bucky cards a hand through his hair. “Not with you.” When he looks at her finally, his eyes are glassy. Her heart is in her throat. “Come inside,” he asks again. His silvery fingers extend to her. She sets her hand in his, and just for a moment, he squeezes. Bucky tugs her behind him, and into the house. He leads her into the kitchen, and releases her. She lays his coat and hat on the back of a chair, and then pushes herself up onto the counter; Bucky has pulled a few things from the cabinet like rice, and some dried mushrooms, and there is water gently simmering on the stovetop. He puts the rice into the water like she taught him, and fits the lid on the pot, and sets the timer on his watch. He braces his hands against the oven and sighs.

“So.”

“Yeah.” She pulls her legs to her chest, and lays her cheek on her knee. “I–should I have let you talk with him?” The question comes out before she can stop it.

Bucky shakes his head. “No.”

“Should I have kept the call private–”

“Y/n–” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just… tell me. About your mission.”

“What it was meant to be…”

“Yes.”

“Alright. I work… with special forces most of the time,” she says, though that feels like an insufficient place to start the story. “Steve had been searching for any sign of you, after Insight. He got his pardon, so he had access to Shield’s data again, and there were rumors through the intel community that you were somewhere in the American West. But he couldn’t look into it himself without drawing Shield’s attention to you. Which is when Nat suggested… Me.” She closes her eyes, because she can’t stand to see him there, in arm’s reach, still as a statue.

“I read through about three boxes worth of files from Nat’s contacts about the Winter Soldier–mostly records of how you usually appeared when HYDRA had a new job for you, patterns of behavior. Like how often you went MIA after a job, and where they found you. Like–you would ditch your handlers on a busy train platform, and show up a hundred miles away working on a dock. Or one time, you hitched a ride on a box truck and they found you because you got into a bar fight. They always found you because something would happen, a–a fight or an accident that brought a little publicity. So. I built a profile.

“You weren’t intercepted by HYDRA after the destruction of Insight, so it was safe to assume they thought you were dead. Which meant you probably felt safe enough to go into more rural areas where people would notice you. There was a ping in Albuquerque’s small paper about a George Barnes being pulled over for driving without a license, in a stolen van, and–”

“That’s how you found me.”

She opens her eyes again, and he’s closer now, leaning his back against the counter beside her. He’s not watching her anymore, but she’d only have to breathe in a little deeper for her arm to brush against him.

“I tracked you from Santa Fe,” she confirms. “You couldn’t stay away from the draw of other people. I told Steve once, it was like you were so lonely that you wandered into a bar, only to realize that drunk men are the worst. He said that made sense, considering–well. That you often had to pull drunk bullies off of him. You stayed on my radar because you were doing the same for other strangers. I had a conversation with a bartender in Pueblo who described a tall man, blue eyes… longish brown hair… who ordered a whiskey he didn’t drink, and then took a guy down for touching a woman before the bouncer could even react.

“But then you headed into the mountains, and I could tell you were slowing down. I was days behind you, and then I saw you walking down the street in Breckenridge.”

He frowns. “Before I bought the truck.”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.”

“I put a tracker on it when you were inside the guy’s house making the deal, so that’s how… yeah. But along the way, I was doing my best to erase your trail. Technically Shield owns that truck you abandoned five miles from here.”

Bucky nods. “I… I was hallucinating.”

“Hmm?” She touches his shoulder. He flinches, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Thought I was being followed.”

Bucky leans into her. She grips his shoulder as if to say… I’m sorry for making it worse. I–I did this to you. He covers her hand with his own.

“I was going to ski down the back side of the mountain, and wait you out a while in town. I had gotten visual confirmation that you were here, and it seemed unlikely anybody else would find you out, if you stayed put. I did not know how dangerous it was to ski in the back country this time of year, given how much the temperature yo-yos. So. That’s the whole of it.”

“Other than… what you said. You had my picture.”

She bites her lip. “God. Um. Yeah, your enlistment photo. I carried it around with me like a war widow.” War widow–fuck. She presses her eyes closed. What a fucking horrible choice of words. She can’t think. Everything is cloudy. “Not remembering a thing.”

“That first time you woke me up, I was dreaming about it. What Soldat did to you. It’s the only thing I remember about it, but… I told you you were safe in the dream, that I wouldn’t hurt you. But he–I did.” He shakes his head like it might clear up his own foggy memory. “You don't remember anything else?”

“No,” she whispers. “I’m not even sure how… this–” she gestured between them– “would’ve happened in there. I was watched like a hawk.”

Bucky nods once.

“I’m sorry. For not telling you about Steve.”

He shrugs. “You were doing what you thought was right.”

“I know now, why I felt like I had to help you.”

He digests that for a moment, but what she wants is for him to respond like… I’m glad you did. I’m glad you’re here. But he doesn’t.

“You’re AWOL?”

She laughs painfully. “Yeah. Feels like I never got a chance to know what being safe felt like, it… it was supposed to be Nat who kept me safe, that was her promise to me when she brought me home. But I don’t know why I trusted her. Turns out I’ve only had one good thing which meant anything to me, and I don’t even remember. Why didn’t she tell me? God, Nat kept warning me not to let it go too far.”

She folds herself, pressing her forehead to her knees. It feels like a betrayal so deep that some little string inside her has been severed, and now she’s bleeding internally. For herself, and Natasha’s betrayal, and what happened with Bucky… in such recent history in her life, causing such ripples through her unconscious mind, and yet–with no memory to bring it into focus. She weeps.

“I wish I didn’t know,” she whispers. “I wish this was the first time I met you.”

Bucky’s hands find her shoulders, and he’s coaxing her feet down until he can stand between her knees. She curls her fingers into the front of his shirt–the very henley he loaned her when she first arrived. He doesn’t pull her closer and it feels like a rejection. Like he’s comforting her because he has a heart, and not because he wants to help her through it. This is not how he wakes her out of a bad dream. This is a stiff touch with no warmth in it. Still, she presses her forehead to his chest.

“You told him it was muscle memory.” His voice rumbles between his ribs.

“Yeah,” she laughs through thick emotion. “I just know you. I know you in a way that my body is adamant about, and I can’t explain it, it’s like this phantom pain every time I look at you, and it’s getting worse the longer I’m around you…” she trails off, forcing herself to look up at him. Her cheeks are hot, but she can’t help but babble. “Do you feel it, too? Am I crazy?”

“No.”

His eyes say otherwise. They’re glassy again, so blue that it hurts, and his mouth is twisted up like he can’t afford to say anything else or he’ll admit it. He shakes his head, and stands back from her, but she won’t let go of his shirt. Please don’t run, she pleads in her mind. I need you to help me figure out what’s real. Slowly, Bucky raises his hand and works her fingers free. He squeezes her hand. Then, he turns away.

She chokes back a rush of pain. The tears renew themselves, and she covers her mouth. She is nauseous. She pushes off the counter and runs into the bedroom–hardly making it into the washroom and kicking the door shut before her stomach heaves. She clutches the porcelain… and sobs. There’s nothing else to do but cry, because… this man who her whole body seems to reach for, who she loved in another lifetime, who every day seems to let her in a little bit more… She cries because the woman who was supposed to be her family kept this from her, and sent her on an assignment she was destined to fail. She can’t go home now, and this certainly can’t be it. The man who she’s spent two weeks with, held and been held by–he doesn’t want this. And there is a whole host of people about to come looking for them both. What is there for her, now?

And is this going to ruin The Hobbit for her? She chokes out a pained laugh at the stupid thought, wiping her mouth with a piece of tissue. She stands so she can wash her face, and she remembers her father’s words again. Not the ones about Gandalf, and powerful men. But what he said to her every night when he pulled her blankets up to her chin.

You’re loved, honey bee. By a lot of people. Everybody’s love looks a little different, but every form is good if it’s honest and kind.

She cries, and it’s all her body has left to give.

Later, her phone chimes. She checks it when the curiosity gets the best of her. It’s from Natasha, and it makes her blood go cold.

I’m sorry. I thought I was protecting you.

***

Bucky stirs the mushrooms into the rice, and takes his punishment like a stab to the stomach, as every sob of hers rips through him.

Listening to her demand answers over the phone from the only person Bucky has ever considered a friend, the pain in her voice–she was heartbroken. She was an innocent agent sent to help him, first of all. Innocent people shouldn’t get mixed up with Bucky Barnes. That’s how bad things happen.

She couldn’t be another tally he carved into the back cover of the book she loved so much.

“You’re not what I expected,” she had said, holding that book in her hands. He didn’t know that she meant it compared to the photograph she carried around, from when he was just a bright-eyed boy from Brooklyn. Bucky can’t even fathom it. It’s such a sweet thought, absolutely tainted by the way she’s been manipulated. On the other hand, the thought of her laying in a hospital begging for моя любовь… he came back to lucidity in Bucharest, while she pleaded for him. Wouldn’t he have remembered someone calling him that? Did they use that kind of language, or was their connection made from fleeting moments in that hellish school? Did she know his body the way his seemed to know hers, that first night he held her for warmth?

Wait... that's not what Steve said. He said 'my love.' From what dark corner is Bucky's brain pulling out 'моя любовь'? Shit.

He knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’s felt something for her before. Every fiber of his being is pulled towards her, like he breathes because she breathes. He wants to give in, and hold her while they both come to terms with the reality of their shared history. All of it, maybe even more. But if Steve is right, he was ordered to kill her, and that part of him still exists alongside the phantom pain of her. He can’t make any space in his heart for hope, knowing that it was ripped away from him before. If HYDRA took her from him once. They can do it again. Ten words, and he will be the one to kill her. Losing her again will kill him.

No more bedtime stories, or gentle touches to soothe her awake from a nightmare. No more pretending like this is something either of them were going to be able to keep.

Now that she’s healed, they have to part ways.

After this snowstorm. The weather band said to expect up to two feet. He can’t leave her unless he knows she’ll be safe. The roads are about to be even more encumbered. The only chance for a quick getaway once they’re clear is the truck five miles down the hill, like she said. If he leaves now, he strands her alone, and very likely dies himself from exposure. He sighs.

He doesn’t sleep that night, because she doesn’t come out to eat. She shuts the bedroom door, and locks it… he relieves himself outside, and he can’t help but feel like he deserves it. When she screams in her sleep, he tries to knock, to wake her up if nothing else, but she doesn’t stir from her whimpering episode. He could break the door, but then there wouldn’t be anywhere for her to go. To get away, and shield herself from him. He sits in the hallway until her voice gets hoarse, and her breathing turns soft again.

Bucky wants to be angry with her for hiding that she came on Steve Roger’s errand, but after the way she reamed Steve out, all he can muster is worry. Between three and four in the morning, he stares at the bedroom door, bouncing his knee anxiously. When was the last time you worried about another person, Barnes? And why did he tell her ‘no?’” She has that laser vision–she always sees right through him. He expects to go on about his life as if he hasn’t spent the last few weeks becoming addicted to reaching for her, and she will know, the whole time, that he is lying.

She centered him. He finally started feeling like he had some semblance of control over his mind again, all because of her. What the hell am I doing?

Protecting her, right?

And Steve… if the time comes where Bucky sees him again, as this relentless search proves is likely, he will have to answer for this. Because even though it’s best if he’s not with her, he’ll be damned if anyone gets away with hurting her. What was Steve thinking? Of all the stupid things that he had done, this was up there. Trying to find him–Bucky doesn’t want to be found, least of all by Steve Rogers. Then there’d be another person he used to care about who’d have to see what he has become. He’s spent this long trying not to think about the last time they met.

The door unlatches. Bucky jumps. She peers at him, frozen for a moment. Her eyelids are swollen from crying.

“Just getting some water. Excuse me–”

He gets up. “I’ll get it.”

“No. I–I don’t need your help. It’s okay.” She skirts around him, ducking under his arm.

Bucky follows her slowly; there’s not far to go in such a small cabin, but he jams his hands in his pockets and watches her fill a cup at the sink. She’s shaking. She must be starving. The rest of the rice is still in the pot, staying chilled on the porch. He can warm it up for her, easily.

“You should eat,” he murmurs.

“No thank you.” She knocks back the small cup’s worth of water, and refills it. She crosses towards the bedroom and he can’t help himself–Bucky reaches out and grabs her elbow. A bit of water sloshes out of the cup in her hand, but she doesn’t move to pull away. She doesn’t even look at him.

“‘M sorry. That I don’t remember.”

“Hmm. If that were true… that you’re sorry… I think you’d let yourself try, now. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to say that you’ve been acting like you feel something. But. I can see that you don’t want to. I’ll get over it.”

She isn’t angry as she says it, and that makes it twice as cutting. She’s resigned to it. When she pulls her elbow free, Bucky feels like somehow he’s made everything worse. He’s hurt her, too. And even apologizing didn’t fix it.

Why does that feel so much worse than actually putting a knife in her belly?

***

tag list: @peterhollandkait @hogwartsahist0ry @abitgryffindorky @ohheyjanie @idgafiamallthefandoms @mysticatto @im-just-star-dust @light-through-stained-glass @ginger-swag-rapunzel @sanguineterrain @honeywithemoney @imokayunlessyoumentionendgame @lalalalokii

message or comment to be added to the tag list :)

It’s here!!

CHRIS EVANS is PEOPLEs 2022 Sexiest Man Alive

A Six Sentence Sunday teaser of Yenzy and his girl…

Thanks for tagging me @justalonelyslytherin and to @caffiend-queen queen for starting the Six sentence Sunday post ❤️

Check out the other teasers HERE ❤️

Yenzy x y/n

"Yenzy?" a surprised smile spread across your face when you pulled open your front door to find the goalie standing there.

Jake's cheeks were already flushed from the alcohol but the hue crept up his face to the tips of his ears as he drank in the sight of you.

"Shit..." he swore, "you look fuckin' hot in my shirt" his hands were just itching to pull you in for a good grope and a filthy kiss.

"You wanna come in?" you tried biting back the smile that was quickly spreading across your face as you twirled the bottom of his pink petunia’s shirt around your finger, "my roommates gone... I was watching a movie in my room..."

"Hell yeah" Yenzy’s enthusiasm made you giggle, his goofy boyish grin making your belly swoop as you took his hand, trying to tug him inside, but Yenzy yanked you back to him and you crashing into his chest almost losing your footing.

"Been thinking about you all night, pretty” his lips brushed over yours, his facial hair tickling your face and making you gasp as his tongue licked into your mouth.

The hockey divider was made by the lovely and talented @firefly-graphics ❤️

No pressure tagging: @navybrat817 @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @firefly-in-darkness @sconnie-doesnt-know @musingsinmoonlight @chrissquares @onsunnyside @holacia2 @thecornerlot @ghotifishwrites @saiyanprincessswanie and anyone else that wants to play!

whiskey and charcoal

rating: explicit (18+ only)

words: 464

pairing: dbf!bucky x f!reader

warnings: dad's best friend!bucky, unspecified age gap (reader is of age), piv sex, creampie, exhibitionism

a/n: i blame @samantha-lefay for this. and i'm completely certain she'll own that

a/n 2: i wrote this on my phone. forgive any errors

if you like this, please support your creator by giving it a reblog. she loves that shit!

Main Masterlist | Ko-fi

“hey sunshine,” bucky’s voice is low and smooth in your ear when he catches you messing with your hair in the downstairs bathroom mirror, “did you miss me?”

his hand is hot and heavy on your hip, you put your hand over it and squeeze it. “yes sir. i did.”

he smells like whiskey and charcoal smoke from the grill when his lips press against your neck. “those little boys in the city don't know how to treat you, do they?”

your breath comes out as a high whine when his hand disappears down the front of your shorts, and he strokes your mound over your panties.

“no sir. they don’t.”

he pushes aside your panties, and slips two fingers into your pussy. “always so wet for me, sunshine,” he whispers into your hair.

“bucky, the door is open,” you whine even though you’re already grinding down on his fingers, “anyone could come in.”

“then i guess we better hurry, pretty girl.” he spins you around to face him, and pushes your shorts down your legs before you even notice that he unbuttoned them.

he lifts you up onto the counter, and you pull him in for a kiss while he gets his cock out. when the blunt head pushes into you you moan, and bucky’s hand covers your mouth.

he’s grinning at you. “i thought you didn’t wanna get caught?”

you shake your head, and he moves his hand off your mouth in favor of gripping your hips so he can fuck you hard.

as your climax draws closer it gets harder for you to mute your noises, so you bury your face in his neck, and your fingers in his soft hair, while he whispers in your ear.

“little cunt is so fucking tight.”

“takin’ me so well, sunshine.”

“gonna fill this little pussy up.”

“gonna spend the rest of the day with my come leakin’ out of you.”

“think i’ll take you to my house later. really take my time with you.”

you’re getting louder against his neck, and when his thumb drops to swirl around your clit, you come with a cry.

he follows close behind you, filling you up, just like he promised. when he pulls out, some of his come dribbles out of you, and he chases it with his fingers, pushing it back into your messy pussy.

“gotta keep it all in there, sunshine” he tsks, licking his fingers clean. “want all that mess to stay in your panties, so when i gag you with them later all you taste is me.”

he helps you off the counter, steadying you until your feet are under you. with a slap to your bare ass, he murmurs, “now get those shorts up. i hear your dad in the kitchen.”

if you liked it, please give it a reblog so others can find it too!