Opposites Attract

“Life is funny. If you don’t laugh, you’re in trouble.” -Taylor Hawkins

This one hurts and it’s going to take awhile to get past.

undrunk

summary: your friends with benefits situation with bucky takes a turn that could break your heart

pairing: frat!bucky x reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: explicit language, consumption of alcohol, implied smut, mention of previous cheating (not bucky), reader may have a slight drinking problem, bad rebounds, one (1) game of spin the bottle, bucky is kind of a dick but also reader is kind of crazy, slightly toxic but it works out in the end, like the tiniest bit of fluff (if you squint). loosely based on undrunk by fletcher

a/n: here she is, the long awaited frat!bucky. i hope this was worth the wait, and everyone enjoys the happy ending i tried to do. if you like this please make sure to reblog and comment - i appreciate every single one!!

main masterlist ─ i no longer have a taglist but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary and turn on notifications for fic updates!

You were woken up by the click of your bedroom closing, and the soft sound of padded feet through your hallway and out the front door. You squeezed your eyes tight, willing the tears not to come as you rolled over and checked the time. 5am. At least he was consistent.

It was stupid - you were stupid - to let this happen again. Bucky had broken your heart enough times that you should know better by now. But you never learn.

You guessed you couldn’t really blame him. He had made it clear to you from the very first night that he wasn’t interested in a relationship. That it would only ever be sex. Of course, when you’re half drunk and desperate for him to just fuck you already, you agree to anything. No one could blame you for a one night mistake.

No, the real pain came from the months after. The 1am texts and the secret touches. Because with those came the silly pictures and the late night talks as he laid in your bed. With it came the desperate want for more. Even when you knew it wasn’t possible.

So you laid in bed, staring at the ceiling as the tears streamed down your face, knowing you had no one to blame but yourself.

-

Despite the ache in your chest, there was one thing you could never say no to: a party. Maybe you should learn to stay away from them, considering that’s how you ended up in Bucky’s bed in the first place, but you just couldn’t; there was nothing like the sweet release of drinking your pain away.

At the very least, you could stay away from Bucky’s frat house. Or that’s what you told yourself.

Somehow, though, you ended up in the basement of the Phi Gamma Delta house, even though you specifically told Wanda not to let you anywhere near Fiji tonight. Not after your conversation with Bucky a few days ago.

Not after he had accidentally stayed the night, and you thought it meant more. Not after you had asked him to go to breakfast and he practically sprinted for the door.

But you hadn’t seen him yet, so that was a plus. There was always a chance he had skipped out on the festivities for the night. Maybe he had gone home to Brooklyn for the weekend, or maybe he was upstairs in his room and you could just -

Your thoughts were cut off by the cheers of the group of people around you, and you turned to see Sam in the middle finishing off a handle of vodka. In your experience, that could only mean one thing.

“Let’s play spin the bottle!” Sam shouted as the last burn of the liquor coursed through him. Having no reason to say no, you made room for yourself in the circle and patiently waited your turn.

Sam gave a dramatic look around the room, before spinning the bottle with a twist of his wrist. Everyone watched as the glass slowed, anxious to see who the first person to kiss the frat president would be tonight. To your surprise, the bottle came to a slow stop on you.

You looked up with slightly panicked eyes. Even in your inebriated state, you could recognize that kissing one of Bucky’s brothers probably wasn’t the greatest idea. But then you remembered the look of absolute terror on his face at the mention of more. And Sam was moving across the circle to you, and Steve - Bucky’s best friend - wasn’t saying anything and so you came to the conclusion that you did with most things: fuck it.

When Sam’s warm lips met yours, you felt… nothing. No spark, nothing beyond acknowledging he was a good kisser. It lasted less than 10 seconds before you were pulling away and spinning the bottle yourself.

Which is how you ended up kissing half the people at the party: Peter - everyone’s favorite pledge, Natasha - your chemistry lab partner, and Scott - who you had never met before but was as funny as he was a good kisser, just to name a few.

The game continued until it dwindled down to a handful of people and you switched to another drinking game. One which you were losing terribly and it showed in your glassy eyes and drunken babble.

The last thing you remembered was the feel of strong hands on your hips, the soft plush of a mattress, and an ache between your thighs.

-

A beam of sunlight burned across your face, enunciating the raging headache you had after going to bed without Advil or an acceptable amount of water. You could have sworn you closed your blinds, but figured you must have opened them up at some point during the day before.

It wasn’t until you reached for the bottle of water you usually kept on your nightstand and grasped air instead that you realized you were, in fact, not in your own bed.

You shot up before groaning at the rush of dizziness to your head. Slowly, you blinked until the room came into focus, and assessed the damage of your night.

You were naked, so that wasn’t a good sign. You remembered sloppy kisses and hushed whispers of are you sure? And at least whoever it was was just as drunk as you were, so there was no harm done in your mind.

That was, until you realized who you had spent your drunken night with.

Broad shoulders gave way to a freckled back and narrow waist. The tuft of blond hair was a mess, like he - or you - had run hands through it, a lot. You knew there was no one else you could be, but when he rolled over, his long lashes fluttering awake, it was confirmed.

“Steve?” you hissed, still in shock. “What the fuck happened?”

At the unmistakable sound of your voice, his eyes snapped open, and he nearly fell to the floor.

“Y/N? Fuck, fuck! Bucky is gonna kill me.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” you scoffed, and you wanted to crush the little bit of hope that creeped into your mind. No, he had made it clear there was nothing more than sex between you. But off course he wouldn’t want his best friend to sleep with the same girl. Bro code or whatever.

God, his best friend. This was worse than Sam, who he’d only known a couple of years. This was his other half since they were practically in the womb. You couldn’t have chosen a worse rebound.

Wanting to forget the mess you had just made of your life, you quickly pulled on your clothes while Steve watched with wary eyes, though he didn’t say anything else about Bucky.

“Are you okay?” You heard Steve’s timid voice as you were about to pull open his door. The motherfucker was such a sweetheart, and you couldn’t handle crying on top of everything else right now.

You were so close to just leaving without a word; that would have been easier on everyone. But damn Steven Rogers, so charming without even trying. You walked back to his bed where he had sat watching you, and gave him a quick kiss. It was a thank you and an apology and a let’s never talk about this again all in one, and he seemed to understand.

Pressing your ear to the door, you made sure no one was in the hall before you slipped out of his room. It would be your luck if Bucky was coming out of his room across the hall at the same moment you were leaving his best friend.

Thankfully, the hall was empty, and you couldn’t hear the usual chatter that came from the frat house, so you figured they must all still be sleeping off their hangovers. You pulled out your phone and ordered an Uber, figuring your best bet was to wait outside on the steps for the few minutes it would take to pick you up. You were so engrossed in your phone you didn’t hear the clatter of plates in the kitchen or the abrupt stop of voices.

When you finally reached the bottom of the stairs, you felt eyes on you, and you looked up to see Bucky staring at you from the kitchen.

You couldn’t have predicted how much it would hurt to see his face, even after only a few days. You also couldn’t have expected the gut-wrenching feeling that came with him cooking breakfast… for someone else.

Not just anyone else, Dot, the beautiful redhead from Chi Omega that you had always been insecure about, even before Bucky.

Flashes of walking in on your ex-boyfriend buried between her thighs had you stumbling back, and Bucky could do nothing but watch as you made your way to the front door. You could even hear the snicker of Dot’s voice just before you slammed the door shut behind you.

-

The great thing about having your own apartment is you could get wine drunk every night of the week and no one was there to judge you for it.

So every night for the next week, you poured yourself a glass before you started on your homework, and were happily tipsy by the time you took a shower and fell into bed. Some may call it a problem, but they weren’t around to know.

You got so used to the feeling that by the time Thursday night rolled around and you had nothing to do but drink, you went a little overboard.

After the first glass you didn’t even bother with any etiquette, instead drinking straight from the bottle until it was empty and you were hungry. You started a pot to boil while you uncorked another bottle, and had half of that down by the time your pasta was ready to be cooked. Trying to maneuver a pot of boiling water proved to be difficult with a bottle of wine in one hand, so you tried to set it down to give yourself room to work, but ended up knocking the handle of the pot, spilling hot water across your arm in the process.

Though it stung, your pride was the thing that took the most damage as you pressed a cold washcloth to your forearm. You slid down to sit on the tiled floor, bringing the bottle with you, and only when you drained the last of the liquid did you allow yourself to feel your emotions.

It started off with silent tears, hurt from the shards of your heart, and gradually your drunken mind spiraled until all you could feel was seething anger at the way Bucky had treated you.

How were you not supposed to catch feelings after Bucky was in your bed practically every weekend?

There were even nights where he came over just to study - although you supposed those always ended in hookups too. But he called you beautiful as he pushed into you, brushing your hair from your face and leaving delicate kisses across your flesh. He made you feel more than any other reoccurring hookup. You couldn’t believe you were the only one who felt the spark that always buzzed beneath the surface of your relationship.

Letting your anger and uninhibited brain fuel you, you grasped for your phone, dialing the number you now knew by heart.

The line rang once, twice, before he picked up, and at first all you could hear was the chatter of other people. He yelled something, muffled by his hand over the speaker, before you heard the sound of a door shutting and he finally spoke.

“Hello? Y/N?” He sounded relatively sober, which did not bode well for you. It was a lot harder to argue with someone when they weren’t as drunk as you were - and that’s exactly what you were looking for.

“James Barnes, you motherfucker.” You tried to sound confident and put together, but the tell-tale of slur coated your words. “You fucking suck, dude.”

“Why are you calling me?” You could hear the agitation in his words, and that made you even angrier.

“To tell you that you’re the fucking worst, James. You need to know that. I need you to know that.”

“God, Y/N, how drunk are you?”

“I’m not -” you hiccupped, giving yourself away even more. “I’m not drunk. You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not the one that’s wasted on a Thursday night. Jesus.” Surprisingly, you couldn’t hear any judgment in his tone - just disappointment. And maybe that hurt worse. What right did he have to be disappointed in you? You weren’t his anything.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that. Just don’t.” Your voice wavered and you could feel the tears coming again. “How could you?”

A deep sigh, like he knew this was coming. “How could I what?”

“You could have picked anyone but her, anyone but Dot. You know how I feel about her, and you fuck her? It’s like you don’t even care about me.”

“It’s not like that -” You cut him off, not wanting to hear whatever lies he spouted.

“Don’t bullshit me. You even cooked her breakfast. I thought you didn’t do relationships, huh? Or is it just that you don’t do relationships with me?” Finally, the dam cracked and you were sobbing and you heard Bucky sigh again, like you were a nuisance, like he had better things to do.

“Listen, Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re hurt, that you caught feelings, that you thought there was more. But I told you from the beginning that I didn’t want a relationship. More than once.” The truth of the words stung, but he wasn't done yet. No, Bucky had to make sure every piece of your heart was irreparable. “I’m not going to keep explaining myself to you, not when you’re acting crazy like this.”

“At least your best friend doesn’t think I’m crazy. And he was a better fuck anyways.” You were grappling for any way you could hurt him the way he had hurt you but he was a brick wall.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

Crazy. The word bounced around in your thoughts over and over, even after the call had ended. You stared at the kitchen wall, thinking about where everything had gone wrong. Where you had gone wrong.

Because this was your fault, and that was a hard pill to swallow. Bucky was right, he had been honest with you from the beginning, and you had held onto unfounded hopes.

In that moment all you could wish was to go back in time - to stop from getting drunk that first night. To stop your spitefulness and your anger. To stop from ever falling in love with him.

-

The next morning you woke up, still on the kitchen floor, with a splitting headache and dried tears coating your face.

You thanked the gods you didn’t have a class on Fridays as you stepped into the shower, feeling the ache of last night slowly wash off you. It was after that you decided, staring in the mirror at your sunken cheeks, that you would make a change. You would get your shit together.

You started with an apology to Steve, one he deserved long before now, then took the time to delete the pictures of Bucky from your phone. The ones that were private and you had kept for when you needed something to take the edge off of missing him. The thought filled you with guilt now, as you pressed delete and hoped he had done the same on his end. Then you texted your friends you had neglected the past couple months, the ones who tried to warn you and who had gotten sick of your own self sabotage.

The last thing you did was type out a text to Bucky, apologizing for your behavior, for the way you had treated him, and wishing him well. But you couldn’t bring yourself to send it, so it sat undelivered in your phone until you could finally bring yourself to delete the entire text thread.

You knew you should delete his number too, erase any temptation, but it was just something you couldn’t bring yourself to do.

The urge to text him and explain yourself took a while to go away, especially when you found out that Bucky wasn’t lying about nothing happening with Dot, that she was there because her sorority sister had needed a ride home that morning, and she just so happened to catch Bucky in the kitchen.

You beat yourself up for that one, though you knew it wouldn’t have made a difference. There was never anything more for you and Bucky, regardless of who he did or didn’t sleep with. That was the hardest part to get over.

But you did it.

You stopped going to frat parties, too, deciding that part of your life was over. You threw yourself into your studies and before you knew it, May was approaching and you were just a couple weeks from graduation.

Preparing for one last hoorah with your friends, you met Wanda at your favorite bar downtown - dressed up for the first time in a while, and drinking more than a single glass of wine with dinner since that phone call with Bucky.

Who, speak of the devil, walked in just as you were grabbing a tray of drinks off the bartop. You locked eyes, but quickly hustled back to your table as you saw him attempt to push through the crowd towards you.

You thought he had gotten the hint, because you only saw him in quick glances from across the bar after that, until you made your way to the bathroom, brushing Wanda off when she offered to come with you.

Unfortunately, there was only a single stall that was annoyingly occupied, so you leaned back against the wall and waited.

You were scrolling through Twitter, contemplating going full Maddy from euphoria and banging on the door, when you felt a presence beside you. You knew without looking up exactly who it was.

Slowly, you slipped your phone in your pocket and turned to look up at him.

He was devastating. Just as charming and handsome as you remembered, and it was a struggle for a moment to catch your breath.

“Hi,” he whispered, and you wondered if maybe he was thinking the same thing about you. You could only be so foolish to hope. “I’ve missed you.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, and you wanted to shove the feeling down but suddenly his hands were cupping your face and he was just a breath away.

“I was an idiot, to say the least, and I’m sorry it took a few months of missing you everyday to realize that.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It felt like a fever dream - awful and amazing all at once. “Could you give me a chance to not be an idiot?”

What you should do was tell him no, that you had moved on, that he didn’t mean anything to you anymore.

But you had always been a terrible liar.

Instead of falling into his arms like you desperately wanted to, like the you of six months ago would have, you pressed a kiss to his cheek - a forgiveness and a dismissal all in one - and walked back to your table.

After exchanging goodbyes with your friends, you sent one last look Bucky’s way before heading home.

-

It had been a few days since you’d heard from Bucky, and it hurt more than you cared to admit.

Although you had wanted to forgive him and move on that night at the bar, a part of you held back. You wanted to make sure it wasn’t a result of him being drunk and lonely. And unfortunately it seemed your suspicions were right.

You’d spent the days since then with your phone always in arm’s reach, hoping he would call, but on the third day of nothing, you had accepted your fate.

Just as you were about to run a bath and block out the world for a little while, there was a knock at your door. Your heart jumped into your throat, but you shoved it back down along with the lingering hope that it would be Bucky on the other side.

Preparing yourself for anything, you swung the door open to the one person you wanted above all else - Bucky Barnes, weighed down with… grocery bags?

“Uh,” you weren’t quite sure what to say, and the sheepish smile on his face was one you had never seen before.

“Can I come in?” He asked, lifting up the bags. “These are pretty heavy.”

Wordlessly, you stepped aside, and he set the bags down on the counter. When you peaked inside them, you were surprised to find an array of breakfast foods. You sent him a questioning look, waiting for some sort of explanation.

“I spent the last few days thinking about how I could prove to you that I was serious. Probably have about 50 unsent texts. After everything, I thought I could start with breakfast. Low stakes, and you don’t have to decide anything right now. Just let me be here with you.”

Although you had decided the moment you saw him on your doorstep, you let him cook you breakfast. You let him open up in ways he never had before. You let yourself fall more in love with him, knowing he was doing the same with you.

if you liked this please consider donating to my ko-fi! 🤍

Sebastian Stan in The 355

✨Sebastian Stan manspreading appreciation post✨

Where Broken Hearts go to Heal (2/?)

Pairings: collegehockeycoach! Andy Barber x female college sweetheart reader

Warnings: college sweethearts, the one that got away, soulmates, angst, sad Andy, explicit sexual content- unprotected sex- a lot of it, explicit language (must be 18+)

Word Count: ~2.5K

A/N: for some reason, this one’s got me nervous. Please be gentle.

Not beta read. All mistakes are my own ❤️

Coach B x his sweetheart

Lucky Charms: hockey AU

"And he didn't realize he was printing the entire textbook..." you smiled as Andy returned to the back booth at your old watering hole, handing you a beer before he slid in next to you.

You had politely accepted when his captain's offered to buy you a drink, and Andy? Well he begrudgingly accompanied you.

"Alright" Andy smiled affectionately at you, "that's enough story telling" he said, playfully, but the low timbre of his voice made you shiver slightly, stomach fluttering with butterflies when he wrapped an arm around you, tugging you a little closer to him.

"Come on, Coach B" Steve smiled from ear-to-ear, watching as a few drinks helped you and Andy fall so comfortably back into old habits, "sounds like you were quite the Casanova."

"Takes one to know one” Ari laughed.

"You're one to talk, Levs" Steve smirked, "you could get more tail than me if ya weren't hung up on your best friend" he jabbed innocently before turning his attention back to you.

"So come on, Coach B's college sweetheart..." Steve continued, as Andy let out a heavy exhale accompanied by his signature frown.

You smiled at the young man sitting across from you, nodding for Steve to continue while you discretely ran your knuckles down the length of Andy's thigh- something you used to do to soothe him. Andy's gaze dipped to your face, smiling affectionately to himself as he leaned into that familiar reassuring touch.

"Did Coach B get a lot of ladies?" Steve asked as Ari rolled his eyes at his fellow captain's intrusive question.

"He did" you bit back your smile as Andy grumbled something under his breath, rolling his eyes while taking a long swig of his beer.

"I knew it" Steve laughed, "I told you he was a ladie's man... didn't I, Levs?" Steve goaded, clapping Ari on the back as he signaled the bartender for another round.

"Until I met y/n" Andy clarified, reluctantly joining the conversation. Never one to share much of his personal life with his athletes.

"And the 400 page textbook?" Ari asked, smiling softly at you from across the booth as you felt a heat wash over your face.

"You really just told them our whole story?" Andy teased you, his arm dipping behind your back to find purchase at the soft curve of your hip, "how long was I at the bar?" he murmured against your ear.

"Not our whole story..." you smiled, leaning into him with a carefree laugh while Andy tucked you into his side, "just our meet-cute."

Andy shook his head letting out an exaggerated exhale as he listened to you tell the story of how you met. Andy's chest bloomed, warming his tender heart, watching you with a sadness in his eyes. A sadness for everything he had missed. Everything he had wanted so badly but was too stupid or too young to know how to hold on to…

"That was fun" you smiled up at him, shivering before he reached around you, tucking you into his wool coat with him as you left the bar a little over an hour later.

"Come on, sweetheart" Andy smiled, "let me drive you home."

"I'll just call a rideshare" you said, pressing your hand to his chest to steady yourself as you stopped.

There was a quiet beat where you just stared at each other before you both broke with fond giggles.

"You... wanna get some coffee?" Andy asked, hopeful that he could stretch the night out a little longer.

"Um... it's kinda getting late" you smiled, looking at your phone, "you sure you don't need to get home for the alumni event tomorrow?"

"I'm OK" Andy said and you smiled, agreeing to coffee as he helped you to his car.

Instead of going to a cafe or coffee shop you both decided Andy's place would be a better fit if you didn't want to be surrounded by college kids.

As Andy pulled into his garage you smiled at the hockey gear and skates hanging neatly on hooks along the garage wall.

Andy cut the engine, getting out of his car and quickly making it to your side to help you out. When you got inside he shrugged off his coat and hung his keys on a set of hooks just below a large mirror.

Andy's place was nice. After toeing off your shoes you walked around in your stocking feet admiring his living room while Andy busied himself with the coffee maker in the kitchen.

Andy's place felt like a home. It was warm and inviting, yet neat and orderly- just how you remembered him.

"I really like your place" you called to him.

"Thanks... it's too big for just me" Andy called back from the kitchen, "you want some cookies or something?"

"Sure" you smiled, remembering Andy's sweet tooth, fondly.

Your fingers danced along his bookshelves, reading jacket covers and smiling at a few framed photos of Andy's hockey team after college. Playing professional hockey across seas. Andy had played in several other countries, hoping his time would come to play for the NHL. He made it as far as a taxi squad but didn't make it on the official roster. Ending his hockey playing career about 9 years after college.

You heard Andy behind you before he said anything, quietly taking his place at your side as he watched you look at all the old photos. He had discarded his suit coat and his tie, his shirt unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up casually.

"You really did it" you said, smiling softly at a moment frozen in time that had shattered your entire heart all those years ago.

"I did" Andy said, but he wasn't even looking at the photo you were talking about, too busy studying your face for a reaction.

Truth be told- that moment in your life had crushed your soul. Andy's too. He loved the game too much to say goodbye. So instead, he said goodbye to you. And it was the biggest mistake of his life.

Andy didn't even realize he was holding his breath until you shot him a soft nervous smile. All of this a little heavy for the first time seeing each other in some five years.

"I'm happy for you, Andy" you broke the silence, glancing back at the photos, "you really got everything you wanted."

"No, I didn't" he scoffed, eyes watery as he frowned at the photo frames with contempt, "I lost everything that actually mattered to me... I lost you" he blinked back his tears, looking down at you quickly before turning away and clearing his throat with a cough.

You didn't know what to say. There was a part of your heart that would belong to Andy forever. But could it really be that easy? Move back to town and just pick up where you had left off?

Andy had his hands on his hips- a stance you were familiar with whenever he was upset or gathering his thoughts.

"Andy?" you tried, but he didn't say anything. You saw his shoulders rise and fall with a deep exhale. The weight of both your broken hearts his burden to bear.

You took a steadying breath before taking a step towards him, your heart hammering in your chest as you reached out, tugging his hand from his hip and lacing your fingers together. Andy looked down letting you pull him gently until he was facing you and your palms were touching.

"Andy?" you tried again, looking up at the one that got away. His eyelids fluttered shut, unable to meet your gaze as tears spilled silently down his cheeks. You reached up to swipe a tear with the pad of your thumb, "I'm here" you whispered, fighting back your own tears.

Andy's lips were on yours before you knew what was happening. A surprised squeak escaped you as he groaned into the kiss, his brows furrowed, pressing his forehead to yours and breaking the kiss just as quickly as it started.

"Hey..." you whispered breathlessly, head swimming with the touch of Andy Barber’s lips on yours, unable to contain the smile that broke so wide across your face, it was painful.

Andy's hands were at your waist, eyes screwed shut as if he couldn't bring himself to look at you. The pain of losing all those years hurt too damn much.

"Andy... look at me" you said, reaching up and framing his face gently as you angled his gaze to yours.

You let your fingers rake through his beard, tiptoeing up and pressing your soft lips to the deep crease set between his eyebrows.

A chocked sob escaped Andy's throat before he crashed his lips to your again, lifting you clear off the floor and helping you wrap your legs around his waist.

You were both crying, gasping softly when Andy  licked into your mouth, tasting you with a deep groan. The air punched from your lungs when your back hit the nearest wall and Andy murmured a watery apology against your lips.

You could feel the steely length of him pressed against where you needed him most as you rocked your hips into him, arms wrapped around his neck as you pressed into his chest.

"Sweetheart... you sure about this?" Andy's question came as a grunt against your lips.

"Yes... fuck, yes" you moaned, "please, Andy... fuck... I need to feel you" you moaned, mindlessly and Andy dropped you to your feet without another word. He worked quickly, stripping you out of your leggings and panties and throwing them aside. You made quick work of Andy's belt, letting his pants slide over his narrow waist and to the floor as he finished the buttons of his shirt, adding it to the pile of clothes at your feet.

Andy kicked his pants off, kneeling before you could pull him in for another kiss. He lifted his jersey, pressing his warm lips to your belly before kissing down to your mound. You were trembling as you opened up for him, fingers combing through his hair when he nuzzled into you, a firm kiss to your clit, breathing in the familiar scent of you.

"Fuck" he rasped, pressing another kiss to your clit as you gasped, tugging at the roots of his hair when he licked up the cut of you.

"Fuck" he groaned again, "I missed your taste, sweetheart" his tongue fucking into your quivering hole and pulling a keen from the back of your throat.

It didn't take long until your first orgasm was smeared across Andy's beard, trembling as he pulled his jersey and your bra up over your head so he could kiss his way back up your body. When he got to your lips, he pressed you into the wall with a possessive, toe curling kiss, only breaking it to chain kisses down the column of your neck.

"Please, Andy" you whimpered, fingers tangling in his dark chest hair before running down his chiseled lean body, tracing the trail of hair that disappeared below his waistband. When you dipped your hand into his boxers, fisting his thick weeping cock, Andy hissed.

He pulled his boxers down, freeing his cock as you stroked him with one hand, taking a handful of his firm ass in the other.

Catching the back of your thighs and lifting you up his body, your back bowed into him when you felt his swollen head catch at your fluttering entrance. Andy held the base of his cock, pulling away enough to watch you as he slowly pushed every throbbing inch into your wanting hole.

"Oh, god" you moaned, bottoming out as your cunt hugged him impossibly tight. The familiar stretch felt like home as he let you adjust.

"You keep making those pretty sounds and I'm not gonna last very long, sweetheart" Andy grunted hot against your ear as he pulled out, slamming back into you with a heady groan.

His pace was relentless, making up for lost time as he took back every lost orgasm. Fucking you through 2 more orgasms against the wall until you both ended up on the floor, pliant and panting against his glistening chest.

"Fuck... y/n..." he chuckled, your bodies still connected as you listened to his heartbeat, straddling him, "haven't fucked like that since… college..."

"I really hope you're referring to me" you smirked, sitting up and pushing up on your knees to press a kiss to his lips.

"Of course I'm referring to you" his laugh was warm as you sat back on his cock, his words dying in a grunt when your pussy choked the long length of him.

"You trying to kill me, sweetheart?" he smirked up at you, "not as young as I used to be..."

"You look like you're in pretty good shape to me" you goaded, your knees pressed into the rug, palms on his chest as you began rocking your hips over him faster.

"Oh, god... I could get used to this" you moaned, one hand running up your body to pinch at your nipple while bringing your other hand to your clit, fingers rubbing tight circles as the knot in your belly began to fray.

"You better" Andy groaned, shifting on the rug until his feet were flat on the floor, you whimpered when he gripped bruises into your hips and slammed up into you.

"Please..." you whined, holding on to Andy's waist, the knot fraying with each snap of his hips until his thrusts started to falter.

"Christ... oh fuck... fuck" Andy grunted, flipping you onto your back as he thrust impossibly deep and stilled, balls drawing into him as he painted your insides with his hot release while you trembled around him. His release bringing on yours as you moaned his name, Andy working you blissfully through your orgasm before he collapsed, fully sated, on your chest.

Your eyelids fluttered, heavy as you fought to open them, body feeling deliciously sore when your mind finally registered that Andy was carrying you, cradled to his chest, up the stairs to his bedroom. You felt the bed dip as he lowered you onto the soft mattress.

"Andy?" you whimpered when he left, going to his en-suite and returning with a washcloth to clean you up before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"What time is it?" you whispered into the dark.

"It's late, sweetheart" he said, climbing into bed next to you, "sleep" he urged, softly.

"You don't mind if I stay?" you asked, no real intent of leaving the warmth of his chest ever again.

"Fuck... I never want you to leave" he sighed, happy for the first time in a really long time as he drifted into a peaceful sleep. Finding his home again after all these years.

The hockey dividers were made by the lovely and talented @firefly-graphics ❤️

This is the original Coach B from my Lucky Charms: hockey AU even though someone tried to plagiarize it. Thanks for supporting original fanfic content ❤️

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

RIP Matthew Perry

No one else could’ve played Chandler Bing🩵

point of no return | nick fowler

pairing: nick fowler x mob daughter!reader

summary: nick and mace make a bet regarding the mob boss’ innocent virginal daughter.

warnings: 18+ topics 

the bridge is crossed so stand and watch it burn …

Keep reading