#HE’S MESSY SEBASTIAN STAN As Bucky Barnes In THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER (2021) — Created

      𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘; 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚊𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝟷𝟸𝚝𝚑

  ✧ summary ─ bucky has finally found a family that he deserved so much, and he is not letting it go any time soon. 

  ✧ pairing ─ tfatws!bucky barnes x reader

  ✧ warnings ─ softness, fluff, so much fluff, kissing, pet names, veery light angst, found family <3, happy ending, alpine and amber are the cutest, bucky deserves everything, FLUFF, oh bucky being the asshole that he is btw lol

  ✧ a/n ─ ‘TIS THE FINAL PART. i can’t believe this is the last part *cries ugly*. thank you all so much for being here with me on his journey. thank you for cheering, getting horny and angry with me while this series updated throughout the months. thank you all so much for your nice comments and asks about this series. i really hope you like the ending and that i did justice to bucky. thank you <3

series masterlist ─ previous part

It was almost a month later when Bucky told you that he wanted to take you to Louisiana. You were there when Sam told him to bring you around for the cookout, but you didn’t expect Bucky to take him up on that offer this quickly. You knew that he was protective over this little family you have created together, that he wasn’t ready to share it with the world yet, so it came as a surprise when he told you about it post-coital, laying in the bed all naked.

Keep reading

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.”

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twitter @chrisevansparty

gimme an M, gimme a U (4/?)

Pairings: Yenzy (Jensen) x itty bitty (platonic) and Hockeyplayer!Ari Levinson x female reader (Levs x itty bitty)

Warnings: explicit language, physical violence- minor and not in detail (male towards male) excessive legal age drinking, heartache, angst, idiots in love and ruining it, bonehead Levs, MU team, itty bitty acting out of character, explicit sexual content implied- possibly a little dub con-ish depending on how you look at it, size kink- itty bitty is short and it’s making all the boys feral (must be 18+)

Word Count: 2.6K

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

I know she’s not here anymore but a thank you to my sweet friend Siri for reading though this and spitballing ideas with me ❤️

Levs (Ari) x itty bitty: hockey AU

Lucky Charms: hockey AU

So, just because there’s been some buzz around this part in particular- could I ask that you kindly put any spoiler comments/reblogs under a cut, please? 🙏❤️ Thank you for all your support! I appreciate all of you so much!

"He's freaking out, y/n... can you at least let him know you're OK?" Yenzy sighed, tapping the pencil on his notebook as he swiveled in his desk chair. He took his glasses off and rubbed at his tired eyes before replacing them.

It had been nearly a week since you left Ari at the arena and ever since the boys won, Ari had been calling you non-stop. Your mailbox was full and he had even accosted your roommate, drunk and begging for your whereabouts.

You had left- not even telling your roommate where you planned on going. You didn't have a plan. You just needed a place where he wouldn't find you. And he would never think to look for you... here.

"How 'bout an I'm OK, now fuck off text?" Yenzy smirked.

"No" you snorted stubbornly, "he can eat shit" you double hiccuped and then giggled.

Yenzy heard a muffled male voice in the background of wherever you were, you pulled the phone away and held it to your chest as you spoke to the unidentified male, Yenzy only hearing bits and pieces of a garbled conversation.

"Hey, bit..." Yenzy called into the phone.

"You're dumb... it's not a catchphrase..." you scoffed, bringing the phone back to your ear, "anyone can say that..." you said, addressing the male voice.

"Bitty..." Jake tried again, louder this time.

"Yuck..." your hiccuped was a squeak, "don't call me that... I hate it... I hate that stupid nickname... who cares if I'm short? He's a big dumb giant" you harrumphed.

"How much have you had to drink?" Yenzy asked, concern laced his tone.

"Dunno" you sighed into the phone with a shrug, "but I need a refill..." you sang out to no one in particular.

"Are you at least being safe?" Yenzy asked with a heavy exhale, "where are you?"

"I'm fine" you assured, "I just need to not feel for awhile, Yenz" you dropped your voice so only Yenzy could hear you, "and I'm not telling you... cause then you'll tell him and he'll come find me... and I'm not... ready" your voice was growing watery again as you thoughts drifted back to Ari.

You couldn't think of him for too long- you wouldn't let yourself- or it would start the spiral of devastation all over again. He had been your everything for the past two years and you were his... nothing.

Why did it take you so damn long to realize that? You felt like a joke.

You were nothing but a good time for him. A stop  in between his revolving door of partners. Maybe he had been sleeping with others all along- even when he said he was waiting to score with you.

You felt like you were going to be sick. Clearing your throat as you wiped the tears with the back of your borrowed sweater.

"Y/N..." Yenzy blew out another exhale -completely over being in the middle of all of this- he had clearly been trying to get your attention as you were lost in thought, "just be careful, please? And call me if you need anything... I won't tell him if you don't want me..." but Jensen's words were cut short when there was a loud commotion on his end of the phone.

"What the hell?" Yenzy huffed when his bedroom door flung open with a force that rattled the house.

"Is that bit? Where is she? Gimme the phone" Levs' demanded as he rushed across the room.

Ari looked disheveled; bloodshot eyes, hair tossled from racking his hands through it one too many times and he smelled like booze.

"Levs... she doesn't want to tal..." Yenzy started before Levs yanked the phone from the goalie's hand.

"Bit?" Levs tried to keep his voice even but it trembled. The line was dead.

"Fuck" Levs yelled, nearly cracking Yenzy's phone when he closed his fist around it with a snarl. His face flushed pink as he seethed down at his teammate.

"Why didn't you tell me she was talking to you?" Levs barked, "I've been trying to get a hold of her for days..."

"Jesus, man... get a grip" Yenzy said, standing and maneuvering around Levs as he tried to leave his room, "she doesn't want to talk to you."

"Get a grip?" Levs spun around, "she's my... my..."

"Your what, man?" Yenzy goaded, "you're a mess 'cause she left and you still can't fucking admit what she is to you..."

"Fuck you, Jensen" Levs growled.

"That's it... keep deflecting..." Yenzy scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"SHE'S MY FUCKING EVERYTHING" Levs yelled in a drunken rage as he threw Yenzy's phone to the floor.

Yenzy's jaw ticked, his fists clenched at his sides- he moved to pick his phone up, but Ari took an aggressive step towards the goalie, boxing him in against his bookcase.

"Then why don't you fucking tell her that?" Yenzy shot back, matching Levs' volume but not his bite.

"Watch it" Levs' anger was barely contained, boiling just under the surface.

"You've been stringing y/n along for how many years now?" Yenzy asked, "she's gone, pal..."

"I'm not your fucking pal" Levs loomed over Jensen with about 4 extra inches.

"She's too good for you" Jensen scoffed under his breath, standing his ground.

"What the fuck did you just say?" Levs growled.

"You heard me" Yenzy said, glaring at the brute.

Cappy, Sam and some of the other boys had made their way to the bedroom hallway from downstairs after hearing the yelling.

"She's too good for me, 'cause what?" Levs snorted harshly, "you wanna fuck her, Yenzy?"

"You're drunk" Yenzy glared at him.

"And you wanna fuck my girl" Levs countered.

"No... y/n and I are just friends... became friends the last time you were a massive dick to her in fact" Yenzy said, bluntly.

"What the hell does that mean?" Levs snarled.

"When you went home for the summer and hooked up with an ex..." Yenzy continued, "y/n found out... she saw it all... some video on TikTok or something."

"What?" Levs asked, "how? She never told me that..."

"Because she was humiliated..." Yenzy scoffed, "she had just told you she had feelings for you and you go and fuck some other girl?"

"I never fucked her..." Levs growled, taking Yenzy's shirt in his fists and yanking him close.

"Hey" Cappy yelled, getting in Levs' face, "walk it off, Levs" he said as Sam and Johnny rushed in, each grabbing a shoulder of the Canadian powerhouse.

Levs easily shook off his teammates' holds, glowering down at his goalie just as Yenzy's phone buzzed to life. Levs glared at Jensen, shoving him one last time before letting go of his rumbled t-shirt.

"If this is fucking broken..." Yenzy threatened as he bent down, picking up the phone and answering it when he saw your picture flash across the screen.

"Yenzy, is he still there?" you asked, your voice was steady, but inside you were trembling.

"Yes" Yenzy snarled, glaring at Levs who had backed off but still looked menacing in his current state of beast mode.

"Give him the phone" you instructed.

"You sure?" Yenzy asked.

"Please, Jake..." you blew out a heavy exhale.

Jensen sighed, reluctantly offering Levs the phone as he shook his head, throwing his hands in the air as if he were washing himself clean of the whole damn thing. Yenzy turned, storming out of his bedroom with a curse.

"Bit?" Levs asked, turning his back on his teammates as they also decided to leave the room.

"Stop calling me" you snapped.

"What? Bit, please..." Ari's voice was pained as he paced the small space, "I'm so sorry... I..."

"And leave my roommate and Yenzy alone. I'm not even at my place and I'm not coming back... They don't have anything to do with this..." you continued, ignoring his pleas.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"That's none of your concern anymore" you said.

"Bit... I scored... I scored" he slurred, "just come home, baby... please?" Ari begged, his voice watery now. You could tell he was drunk.

"Oh, that's great" your sarcasm was thick, "have fun with Kimmie..."

"What?" he snorted, "no, bit... it's you... it's only you... I scored for you..." Ari paused his pacing to emphasize every word.

"I don't care" you spat, "none of it matters... it never mattered, Levs..."

"Bit... don't say that..." but Ari's words were choked off with emotion, "don't do this to us, baby..."

"You did this... you did this to us" your tone was surprisingly calm, "you fucking did this to us... I was right there the whole fucking time and it never mattered."

"That's not true, bit" Ari's voice cracked again as he fought back the tears.

"Stop fucking calling me bit" you screamed into the phone, "I'm not your bit... I'm not your fucking anything..."

The phone went dead as Levs sank down on Yenzy's bed with a sob.

You stared at the phone for a long minute, eyes prickling with tears. The sound of someone clearing their throat startled you back to the present.

"Good girl" Ransom goaded, walking back into his bedroom and handing you an imported beer. You'd been getting drunk off this fancy shit ever since you showed up on his doorstep that night.

"Shut up" you whined, "I don't even know why we’re doing this... he's never gonna care..." you wiped a tear with the back of your hand.

"A guy like Levinson? Thinking he missed out on that tight little snatch? He's gonna fucking care" Ransom hissed, tossing you a jersey as he sat opposite you in his expensive oversized Italian leather chair.

"You're gross" you cringed, "why did I get drunk and tell you everything?"

"Cause I'm a good listener" Ransom snorted, not even believing himself.

"Are you just being nice to me so you can get in my pants?" you wondered out loud.

"Think that's been pretty clear from the start, little bitty kitty..." Ransom smirked.

"Ew! Don't call me that" you hiccuped.

"Why?" Ransom's eyes twinkled with delight, "she's obviously little, Ransom leaned forward, taking handful's of your soft curves and yanking you to the edge of his bed. You gasped, almost spilling your beer before squirming out of his hold as he frowned. Ransom leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated eye roll.

Trying to ignore the tension building in the room, you set the beer bottle on his bedside table and grabbed the jersey he had thrown at you.

"I'm not wearing this..." you frowned, holding up Ransom's MU knit. Even their jersey's were menacing.

"Sure you are... to the game with those assholes and Coach Barber" Ransom hummed, before standing up again and grabbing his giant hockey duffle from his bedroom floor, "Levinson will go balistic... and you want him off your back, right?"

You blew out a heavy sigh, but remained silent.

"Y/N... I'm not running a fucking bed-and-breakfast here..." Ransom narrowed his eyes at you, "and I'm not a nice guy... figure your shit out with that goon or wear the jersey..."

"It's not that easy, Ransom... I..." you started, but Ransom cut you off.

"Look... I don't give a shit what you do... but after we win tonight, I'm fucking whatever cunt ends up in my bed - even if that's your pretty little kitty... bet you're so fucking tight... and that it's been way too long... you're just begging to be stretched by a fat cock, huh?" his eyes darkened, staring at you hungrily.

You chirped, opening your mouth to protest, but your throat had gone completely dry.

"Wear it" he pressed, a satisfied smirk curling the corner of his mouth as he turned on the spot, leaving his room without another word.

A bad feeling sat heavy in your gut as you watched him go. Following through with some half-baked plan that you schemed up while drunk with Ransom last night- now suddenly sounded like the worst idea ever.

You stood, holding up Ransom’s jersey before deciding better of it and draping it over the back of his leather chair. You quickly tugged his sweater over your head and proceeded to hang it neatly next to his MU away uniform.

You left Ransom's room, in a pair jeans and a tank top, making your way through the house- on a mission.

It wasn’t long before you found another jersey, hanging from a rack near the kitchen. Taking that one off the hook, you held it up, admiring the quality red white and blue stiching. Your fingers traced the "Tucker" across the back. Lance boasting, just last night, that he was the only one from MU that had ever been invited to play for Team USA at the Olympics. They took gold that year- Lance had the tattoo to prove it.

You shook your head, hanging the jersey back up on its hook. That one wasn't going to cut it either.

Making your way through the kitchen to the other side of the house you stopped right outside his room. You felt like a modern day Goldilocks, not necessarily in looks, but in determination to find a jersey that was just right.

In a moment of panic, you faltered. Could you really be this mean? Did you want to be this mean? Levs had hurt you. Shattered your heart into a million pieces and you were ready for him to feel some of that heartache.

As you stood there, agonizing over everything that had happened in the last two years to lead up to this moment, the bedroom door in front of you swung open.

"Why hello there, dewdrop" his unconventional choice in facial hair made him look at least 5 years older than all the other players on MU as he glanced down at you with, mischief in his eyes,  "what can I do for you?"

His words and tone were deceivingly sweet, but you knew he was anything but kind. And he was exactly what you needed to get Ari off your back.

"You mind if I borrow your away jersey tonight?" you chirped before you lost your nerve.

"Thought you'd be wearing Drysdale's'?" his lip curled into a sickening sneer. You weren't sure what it was exactly, but he made your skin crawl.

"No" you said, crossing your arms over your chest as his gaze bore through your thin cotton tank top until you felt exposed.

"An' what do I get in return?" he smirked, leaning in his doorway, his larger than life frame taking up as much space as possible. Could he possibly be taller than Levs?

"I... um..." nervous laughter bubbled up your throat as your arms fell to your sides.

"Don't worry, sweetheart..." he smirked, smoothing his hand over his facial hair, "sure we can work something out..." he turned, disappearing into his room and returning a few seconds later with a dark MU jersey.

He licked his lips before extending the jersey to you, but instead of letting it go when you took it, he yanked you forward, crashing you into his hard chest with a growl as he wrapped a thick arm around your waist.

"Been dying to get a taste of that sweet nectar, dewdrop..." he whispered hot in your ear, "gotta see if that tight little honeypot lives up to all the hype... I got a feeling both holes are just achin’ to be stuffed."

All you could do was whine as you braced your hands against his broad chest. He let you and the jersey go with a snicker, humming to himself as he left you there alone, his jersey in hand.

You stood, frozen on the spot, until you knew he was gone, leaving for the MU arena to get ready for the game tonight. You blow out an exhale, holding the jersey up to read the big block lettering across the back.

"Hansen" you said aloud to yourself. A shiver snaking up your spine. This was a very bad idea.

A/N: so I’m going to post this and run 🫣 I don’t want to know if you hate it 😓🤐

The hockey divider is 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 ❤️

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!

SEBASTIAN STAN as NICK FOWLER The 355 | 2022 dir. Simon Kinberg

'til the morning comes (8/10)

steve rogers x f!reader (fluff and angst)

summary: he's not supposed to see you like this.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of drinking

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

(part 7) (part 9) (part 10) (series masterlist)

 You tilt your chin, dramatizing your wide, shimmery eyes. “It’s bad luck, Steve.”

 He gives you a small pout of his own. “Let me see.”

 You poke his boutonnière weakly. Your bracelets brush against the throw pillows that your loyal bridesmaids have haphazardly clasped over your chest. “Please go away?”

 Sersi frowns. “Why is he even here?”

 Steve ignores her, and the lighthearted smack Helen lays on his arm. “Honey, this isn’t fair. You see me wear tuxes all the time.”

 “Rogers.” Natasha adjusts her protective cushion and pins him with a deadly glare. “Get the fuck out.”

 Besides one lingering look he gave the full-length mirror, appreciating the back of your wedding dress, Steve’s eyes haven’t left yours. “I didn’t think you cared about this stuff.” 

 You hug a pillow to your body, relieving Natasha and Sersi of their duties. “I don’t.”

 And why should Steve care either? Even if a groom seeing the bride too early means bad luck, your relationship doesn’t exactly resemble a conventional romance. You didn’t need luck, only a signed piece of paper, a hundred pictures, and the illusion of being a happily married, rock solid couple.

 Not that you weren’t happy, in your own way. 

 In his attempts to make things good for you, Steve doted on you almost to a fault, assembling your favorite dishes and insisting that you don’t lift a finger fixing or cleaning anything. He let you plan most of the wedding, a dangerous game given the large budget he offered and how you’ve dreamt about the day since you were little. You discussed your ideas once or twice when you were still with Shangqi, yet scarcely imagined much more than a modestly priced dress, fifty invitations, and casual catering. 

 But Steve said yes to everything. To test him, you once proposed something ridiculous: a tiara.

  You’d look nice in a tiara, sweetheart, he said absentmindedly, hunched over a report.

  It exhausts you to witness his devotion and to continually push against it, especially given the ten to twelve hour days he already spends working. The National Convention looms on the horizon, a dark cloud which has injected atmospheric pressure around this event for months. Because once Steve gets the nomination, he can’t step onto that national stage without a lovely wife by his side. 

 After a few dinner conversations, he promised to put away work at least two days prior to the wedding, and he appears visibly more relaxed now. But still. He should’ve asked, instead of casually waltzing inside your bridal suite, accompanied by Maria.

 “Then let me see.” He touches the corner of your pillow.

 You whimper. “I really like this dress, and if you say anything bad about it, I will divorce you.”

 “We’re not married yet.”

 “And we never will be,” you say, tugging his bowtie. He let you pick the color, and even bought socks to match. “Not even a twitch, okay?”

 He straightens his face, adopting his senator voice. “I promise.” 

 The pillow drops half an inch. Then, Helen’s palm connects with his bright white shirt and shoves. “Nope, as the maid of honor, I am intervening. You’re leaving, now.”

 Steve groans. “Cho.”

 “You heard her,” Natasha agrees flatly. Unlike Helen, her yanking actually knocks him off balance. “Let’s go.”

 He follows her dutifully, but not before throwing you a dopey smile. “Bye, honey.”

 “Bye, Steve.” Tucking your chin, you admire his wide shoulders, the crisply creased pants, and the flash of his green socks as he exits.

 Helen snaps her fingers three times in front of you. “Oh my God, you’re so fucking whipped.”

 You wrinkle your nose. “No, I’m not.”

 “You two are disgusting,” Sersi says, her inappropriately polite nod and English accent making you laugh. 

 You toss the pillow onto the chaise lounge. “Okay, well, I’m allowed to be whipped.” You smooth the front of your dress, ensuring no stray fibers got caught on your complicated bodice. “He’s gonna be my husband.” A new word to you, like fiancé once was.

 Mrs. Rogers. So bizarre. 

 “Speaking of husbands.” Sersi taps her keyboard, giggling to herself. “I think Dane is having a wardrobe crisis.” 

 You and Helen gather around her phone, bursting into laughter. Joaquín poses cheesily next to Dane’s gray slacks, which have split along the seam of his ass.

 Sersi swipes away Joaquín’s urgent texts. “He’s requesting a needle and thread, stat.” 

 Helen rotates, her skirt swishing prettily as she locates her bag. “I have some.”

 “We gotta go.” Sersi grabs both your hands, marveling at you. “I love you.”

 “I love you too.”

 Helen examines you seriously. “If Rogers comes back in here—”

 “Go,” you laugh.

 Which leaves… Maria.

 Who never seems to uncross her arms. “You look great.”

 You barely shrug; any sudden movement could send your hair toppling down. You silently thank Dane for taking the brunt of the wardrobe malfunctions today. “Thank you.” 

 You fidget nervously. The ceremony starts in almost half an hour. You’ve paced circles all day to soothe your anxiety, mostly looking forward to the reception. With a bit of patience, you’ll soon be surrounded by drinks and friends and food and a far more comfortable party outfit.

 Steve must feel the same. You wonder again why he couldn’t wait a little longer to see you.

 Maria, manager extraordinaire, is just as aware of the time as you. “Here.” She lifts the veil off the nearby vanity table, gesturing for you to crouch so she can affix it. “Are you nervous?”

 “Um, yeah.” Your traitorous eyes catch your reflection and, without warning, your thoughts swim with uncertainty. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

  “You’ve come a long way if all you care about is him liking your dress.” She chuckles. “He’ll love it.” 

 Maria forms a half-circle around you, correcting the train of your skirt. Honestly, you’ve never witnessed her so chilled out either. Maybe the campaign has affected her more than you realize. She must enjoy some sense of victory by attending this momentous wedding, the product of the blind date she arranged.

 “Maria.” 

 “Mmm.”

 “Why did you choose me?”

 Maria pockets her hands inside her jumpsuit. “Not to insult you, but…” She pauses. “You’re not the only one we asked.”

 You nod. “I know. He told me.”

 “He’s not very smart, that one,” she remarks dully.

 “Who were they?”

 Twisting your fingers together, you imagine the weight of an elaborate flower bouquet between them. Then the cold surface of another ring, a shiny and steadfast reminder of the promise you’ll soon make.

 Sometimes you still wonder what the hell you’re doing marrying Steve Rogers.

 “Two friends of mine,” she says carefully. “I was honestly just looking for people I could trust to keep a secret without forcing them to sign an NDA.” 

 You stare at her blankly.

 Maria clears her throat. “Darcy, and Hope.” 

 “Why did they say no?” 

 Maria blows a short stream of air, pretending to be deep in thought. “Well, Darcy works for SWORD and already likes her government work.” She purses her lips. “Um, Hope owns a tech company with her dad.”

 A sensible answer, and a good sign that neither had anything against Steve personally. You should feel satisfied. Shut up, and go into the wedding certain that you’ve always been the best candidate for his partner. 

 And yet, these women’s personalities echo someone else equally independent and dedicated to her work. “Would you have asked Helen?”

 Maria holds your gaze, her tough love unwavering. “Yes. I was going to.”

 You let the diamond of your engagement ring catch your thumb, rotating it over and over.

 It seems like forever ago when you posted pictures online gushing about your new fiancé and proudly displaying your diamond. You and Steve fended off questions from friends and curious paparazzi alike, telling everyone that his proposal was intimate. That all-important question would remain concealed behind the walls of your shared home. 

 In reality, early on, you and Steve sat down with a laptop and he requested that you order whichever ring you wanted.

 You’re going to wear it. I want you to like it.

 He meant it well; he means everything well. But Steve was staying late at the office when the jewelry arrived inside ugly cardboard packaging. You ripped it open, slipped the thing on, and continued with your nighttime routine.

 How would Helen have reacted, in your shoes? You wonder if she would’ve stumbled into a brief but intense bout of crying the same way you had. 

 More likely, she would have overcome the feeling, like she overcomes most things. “Oh.”

 Maria responds gently. “I could tell Steve needed a break.”

 No shit, you think kindly, never knowing Steve for his laidback nature. “From what?” You scoff. “All the beautiful, powerful women?”

 At least, you imagine the others to be beautiful. Stunning, probably.

 A small crease forms in Maria’s perfectly smooth forehead. For the first time, she seems disappointed in you. “Steve has spent his entire life trying to live up to people’s expectations. Mostly his own.” Again, she busies herself with your veil, the silky fabric brushing the inside of your elbow. “He needed to get out of his head.”

 And look after some washed-up school teacher. “So me, floundering without a job—”

 "No,” she interjects. “He needs someone who sees him. Beyond his job, beyond what he can offer." 

 Doubt spins itself into a tight ball, lodging inside your throat. “You don’t sound like his campaign manager.”

 Because… why did you and Steve get together at all? It was a trade. A change in the trajectory of your life, in exchange for your presence in his. Helping boost his campaign. Your signature on the non-disclosure agreement as the cherry on top.

 “I’m a strategist, I’m not heartless.” Your eyes connect in the mirror. Hers are blue, as blue as Steve’s. “You make him happy.”

 Do you?

 You make him smile, sometimes. And laugh, when you force him to watch your favorite sitcoms instead of parking himself in front of the twenty-four hour news. Some invisible burden ascends off his shoulders when you compliment his cooking. A pink tinge rises in his cheeks whenever you tie his tie, or take his hand and hold him close. Months and months later, that still hasn’t dissipated.

 You have a crystal-clear picture in your head of how he would react to your dress: the open fondness in his eyes, his lips falling open for a second before curving into a smile.

 You’re so beautiful, he’d say. I’m so lucky. And he’d mean it.

 Maybe that could be enough. Maybe you could be enough.

 Your chest pinches sharply, your vision blurring at the edges, yet only when she hands you a tissue does it all spill over. “This might come as a surprise, but Steve was such a sad little shit before—” You toss your arms around Maria, laughing tearfully while she awkwardly pats your waist. 

 After a moment, your chiming phone brings you out of the embrace.

 “Told you,” she says, somewhat smug. Then, with tenderness: “Aren’t I the best manager ever?”

 You grin at the screen too. Sleep-deprived Steve. 

 She arranges your skirt again, then moves toward the exit. “I’ll see you out there.”

 It’s a video call. Grateful for waterproof makeup, you dab at your cheeks before answering. “This doesn’t count, right?” He’s grinning.

 “No, I don’t think it does.” You tilt your camera. Not the most flattering angle, but you avoid capturing the neckline of your dress. “Helen’s gone though, if you wanna see.”

 “I’ll wait for the big reveal.” The chaotic bustle inside his room obscures his words. You picture Dane in his boxers and Joaquín mending his pants while your friends snap photos and chat with Sam and Natasha. Steve turns from his phone briefly, situating himself elsewhere. The hallway, you’d guess, given the wallpaper and the significantly lower volume in the background. “I wanted to check in. How are you doing?”

 “I’m good.”

 "Yeah?”

 "Even though this is the craziest thing I’ve ever done.“

 He chuckles. "Me too. And I’m running for President.”

 "It’s not a bad thing, though,” you reply. Luckily, you sit alone in the bridal suite. No one hears how soft and high your voice gets, talking to Steve. “How are you?”

 “Nervous. Excited.”

 You wanna kiss that nervous-excited smile off his face; he can’t seem to get rid of it. “What for?”

 “Seeing you,” he answers honestly.

 You bite your lips, a fruitless attempt to muffle your shy hum. “You saw me like, ten minutes ago.”

 Maybe at last you understand why he barged into your room. 

 You’d need to travel down half a dozen corridors, and add in a few left turns, and eventually you’d find him. Leaning against the wall, the screen illuminating his face. Easy in theory. Yet, the journey seems to drag on for miles. He’s too far from you, from where you want him. Right here, right now.

 You check the time. Ten more minutes, then all you have to do is walk down the aisle.

 He’ll be yours.

 Steve softens. “I like seeing you, sweetheart.”

— — —

masterlist

Navy! Stud knocking on the door to wake up Smartie from the alarm is so cute. What about when they're dating? 😏

I'm glad you think so, nonnie! And Bucky has ways to wake you up.

Sleeping Arrangements

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You insist on sleeping in your room, but Bucky likes a challenge. Word Count: Over 1.5k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral sex (f. receiving), slight dirty talk, slight praise, swearing, implied unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), established relationship, roommate!Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Lovelies, I promise I will actually write how Stud and Smartie get together, but I couldn't pass this up. Partially inspired by a chat with @lookiamtrying (thank you!!!). Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banners by @vase-of-lilies. and divider by @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!

It was your idea to keep your separate bedrooms once the two of you started dating. It was a way to maintain boundaries and a small sense of independence since you shared a living space. You didn’t always sleep alone. Some nights he slept in your room and vice versa. It was a good system.

Not that Bucky made it easy. He never did when it involved him wanting you. And you made the mistake of looking back last night as you went toward your bedroom door. You knew better and you did it anyway. All 6’3 of him with his messy hair and beefy frame bathed in the moonlight from the window was staring back at you and pouting. It didn't help that the sexy menace was only in his underwear.

And that your panties were wet just from his gaze.

"My bed is much warmer, Smartie, and I’ll get lonely."

Don’t give in. Admittedly, you always slept a bit better when he was beside you. Even though you were soaked as he slowly sauntered toward you, part of you said to stand your ground with the rules you set. Bucky made it fun to break them, but you would not let your body overrule your will tonight.

“I’m sleeping in my room,” you proudly managed to say, pressing your thighs together as if to silence your weeping pussy. Get it together. “And if you really get lonely, you can wake me up early.”

Bucky hummed as he stopped in front of you, grasping your chin. He smiled as you looked into your eyes and you swore your heart stopped. A second passed before he covered your lips with his, using his other hand to pull you closer by the small of your back. He worked his mouth against yours, spreading desire from your chest down between your thighs. How he managed to always kiss you breathless, you had no idea.

He took his time to pull away, his thumb brushing your trembling lip as he gazed at you. The look of affection in his eyes made you feel cherished and safe. You were proud your legs didn’t give out when he took a step back, his hands dropping to his sides. He spun around without another word and walked toward his door, only stopping when you began to follow him. The smug smirk on his face only turned you on more when he glanced over his shoulder. “Your bedroom is that way. Sweet dreams.”

“I beg your pardon?” was what came out because he wouldn’t really make you sleep alone after that, would he?

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he winked before he went into his room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

You tapped your finger against your thigh, trying to figure out how he turned this around on you. “Well. Fuck,” you said indignantly. You couldn’t be too annoyed with him since you set the rule, but he wasn’t playing fair. I don’t have to either. Smiling, you crept to his door, peeled your underwear off and hung it from the doorknob. Your boyfriend could be a light sleeper and sometimes got up in the middle of the night. So a gift wouldn't hurt.

At least he doesn’t have to steal this pair.

You weren't exactly sure what time it was when you began to wake up, but you knew it was early from the lack of light coming in from the blinds. You hadn't even hit "snooze" on your first alarm. What you did know was that your legs were spread wide on your bed to accommodate the size of your boyfriend, who had already pushed his shirt up around your waist. When you actually wore something to bed, it was always something of his.

And you hadn't bothered to put on a new pair of underwear.

"Was kind of hoping you’d sneak into my room, but I should’ve known better after that stunt I pulled. Was also hoping I’d have my tongue buried in you before you stirred,” Bucky said when you tried to sit up. "Found your little gift, by the way. Could still smell how wet you were.”

“Your fault. You always get me wet,” you argued, blindly reaching for his hair as his breath ghosted over your folds.

“And you always get me hard, so all’s fair, doll,” he said with a drag of his tongue. “Did you have sweet dreams? You must have since you're still wet."

You lost your train of thought for a moment, a soft noise coming out as he brushed his nose against your bundle of nerves. "Yes," you whined as your head tipped back, feeling his grip tighten on your thighs to keep you in place. This is exactly how my dream started and it better end with his cock in me.

“Dream of me?” he asked and you felt him smirk as his mouth wrapped around your clit.

“Fuck, yes!” you shouted impressively considering he just woke you up. Part of you wondered if your neighbors heard you. If he was buried between their thighs, which will never happen, they’d be screaming, too.

“Dreamt about you, too. Woke up aching. I can’t get enough of you,” he groaned as he went back to licking your folds. "Fuck, always so sweet for me. Just lay back and let me keep tasting you."

Tugging a little on his hair in response, you gasped when his metal hand moved under your shirt. Your nipple was taut before he touched it, gently grazing it as he groped your breast. You wished you could see his hot gaze as you arched your back, but you knew you'd see ecstasy in his eyes after he got you off.

His tongue flicked over your clit again as he moaned, like he had all the time in the world to work you over. "You should just sleep in my bed. Let me wake you with my tongue and cock before you start your day. Love tasting you in my mouth before I go to work. Best breakfast I've ever had."

The breathless sounds you made blended together beautifully with his words, that familiar spark felt deep in your core when he suddenly pushed his tongue in deep. "Bucky, there! Please!"

He sighed as pulled out, making you whine. "You know what to call me," he reminded you, the touch of his teeth against your inner thigh making you tremble. "Just say it once."

"Stud, please," you begged. The nickname should've sounded ridiculous like this, but Bucky loved hearing it because you were the one saying it.

“Good girl.”

"Fuck!" you cried when he plunged his tongue back in, licking your walls like he wanted to taste every drop of your essence. The hand that occupied your breast moved to your stomach, keeping you as still as he could. Your legs began to shake as you teetered on the edge of your orgasm before he stopped. "Bucky!"

Your boyfriend simply slipped his tongue out again, the pool of heat in your gut still there. "You're sleeping in my bed tonight," he told you. It wasn't a question.

"Oh, my God! Fine! I will sleep in your bed tonight,” you groaned as he chuckled happily. I might smother him with a pillow. “Just get your tongue back in me before I-"

"I know what you need, Smartie. Let me give it to you."

You almost lost it completely when he did so, adding two fingers. He didn't thrust deep until he knew the stretch wouldn't hurt. How is he still gentle as he devours me? You tried to push your hips closer, needing a little more fiction so you could let go.

"Come for me. Scream my name. Wake the neighbors. I don't give a fuck. Not when you taste this good."

The deep, dark command of his voice as he flicked his tongue once more made the coil finally snap. Your body exploded with your orgasm, screaming and sobbing his name as he worked you through it. Your walls continued to clench as his tongue and fingers slowed, lifting his head to watch. “Fucking beautiful,” you heard, your eyes half open as the world around you stopped spinning.

Bucky crawled over your body and you could make out a bit just how dark his eyes were before he kissed you. The mess you made on his tongue was put into your mouth as he licked into it, drawing another moan from you. That sound stretched on when you felt his hard cock trapped between your bodies.

“Morning,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Morning,” you replied, still catching your breath. “It’s early.”

“It is,” he agreed, dragging his lips to your nose. “We should go to bed early tonight.”

“Yes, we should.”

“And since you’re sleeping in my bed tonight,” he began triumphantly. “You should sleep in my room tomorrow night, too.”

Nice try. “No,” you smiled.

Bucky glanced quickly at your phone before he looked down at you. “I think I can convince you. But right now let’s see how many times I can fill you up before your first alarm goes off.”

*****

More from Stud and Smartie soon. Love and thanks!