15 Years Of Sebastian Stan (2006-2020)

The Alumni Scrimmage

Pairings: Collegehockeycoach! Andy Barber x female college sweetheart reader

Warnings: college sweethearts, the one that got away, soulmates, sexually explicit content- more sex, getting caught, explicit language- Andy likes the word f*ck, a little playful teasing, a little angst, moving fast in a relationship, Andy being really soft for his girl (must be 18+)

Word Count: 3.2K

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

Coach B x his sweetheart

Lucky Charms: hockey AU

Andy slammed the phone down with a curse. His day had gone by in a flash; appearance at the hockey booth with the underclassman, photo opportunity in the quad and mingling with the older alumni that weren't participating in the scrimmage, alumni lunch and in about 20 minutes he'd join his boys- playing opposite them in the annual alumni scrimmage. It was tradition to let the old guys win.

Andy should have been suited up with his skates on- probably warming up on the ice by now. But instead he had spent the last 30 minutes calling information in a 50 mile radius of campus, trying desperately to get your number.

Your number wasn't listed. Of course it wasn't listed. He spent the night having the best sex of his life and now you were gone.

Andy's heart jumped in his chest when a knock came at his office door, but it was only his assistant coach.

"We got about 20 minutes, Andy" Nick said, tapping his stick on the door frame, already dressed in his old jersey and skates, "I'm gonna go check in with the officials."

"I'll be right out" Andy grunted, shoving his office chair away from his desk as Nick gave him a nod and shut the door. Andy looked at his phone once more- still no missed calls or texts. Not even so much as an email.

He stood up, running his hands down his beard before stretching his arms up over his head with a grumble. Andy wasn't in the mood for this alumni scrimmage. Hadn't been in the mood for any of this all day. Not after those damn cupcakes this morning. All he could think about was you.

He crossed the room to the bench along his office wall and sat down with a frown. Andy took a deep breath, letting his head fall into his hands, rubbing over his beard with a grumble before bending over to riffle through his duffle bag for his skates.

The scrimmage was meant to be fun but casual, players wearing their old or current jerseys and team sweats. Gloves and pads were encouraged, helmets mandatory. Goalies were required to wear full pads. The scrimmage was open to the public, but usually only family or the die-hard fans showed up to the event.

There was another knock at the door as Andy was lacing up his second skate. He huffed, barking a "come in" but the door didn't budge.

"Nick... if you’re not gonna come in just gimme a minute, will ya?" Andy shouted as he pulled his laces taut.

The door pushed open and Andy heard the sound of boots drag across his office floor. His breath caught in the back of his throat when he looked up.

"Hey, Barber" you smirked, dressed in his home jersey and a familiar pair of black Doc Marten combat style boots with thick wool thigh high socks disappearing under the jersey that fit more like a dress. Your hair was reminiscent of how you wore it for Andy's college games.

"Y/N... you're...here..." Andy's stuttered as he stood up, a good 4 inches taller than he usually was-with his skates on.

Smiling shyly as you crossed the room, you placed your bag on his desk before coming to a stop in front of him. Andy's heart hammered in his chest as he smiled fondly down at you. He took a tentative step towards you, hand reaching up like he was going to caress your cheek, before hesitating. He wasn't sure how to greet you.

"I'm sorry... I didn't get your number. Then those damn..." Andy started as you tiptoed, catching his thick hoodie strings and pulling him down into your mouth to shut him up. Andy groaned his surprise.

"Shhhh" you murmured against his parted lips with a smirk.

"Sweetheart...I..." Andy's words were crushed against your lips as you pushed him backwards until his legs hit the bench. Andy went down with a grunt, smiling when you placed a hand to either shoulder, climbing into his lap and straddling him.

"Y/N... I'm trying to say I'm sorry..." he laughed as your tongue swept into his mouth with a soft moan. Andy groaned, abandoning his apology as he pulled you to his chest and devoured you with a toe curling kiss.

You made out on the bench like horny college kids until you were breathless, lips parting to catch your breath. Andy's wandering hands ran down the length of you, stopping at your boots. He smiled, tugging at the looped laces playfully as you kissed along his jaw.

"Missed these" he groaned with another tug, his head falling back against the wall, his eyes screwed shut when you rolled your hips over him, nipping just below his beard.

"Remember when you fucked me against the lockers after the championship game jr year?" you purred in his ear.

"Fuck… how could I forget?" he asked, "you were wearing nothing but these an' my jersey..." Andy groaned as you nodded, your breath hot against his skin.

"Ah huh" you confirmed, "and seeing as your type is still college girls...” you teased, “I figured... for old time sake..." you loved giving him a hard time.

"That's not..." he started to protest before his eyes snapped open. Andy looked you up-and-down, old memories of that championship night rushing back to him.

You bit your bottom lip waiting when Andy’s eyes went wide finally understanding, his Adam's apple bobbed as he slowly looked down at your lap.

Andy's large hands ran back up the length of your folded legs, taking a deep rumbling breath before his fingers trailed under your jersey to find you bare and so ready for him.

"Christ… that’s my good fucking girl" Andy's deep timbre was sinful. You chirped when he crashed his lips to yours, wrapping an arm around your waist and shifting your body as you worked his sweatpants and underwear down enough to free his cock.

You didn't even need to stroke him -Andy was rock hard- lining himself up at your entrance and sinking into you, your pussy made a shameless squelching sound as you swallowed him raw.

"Oh, god... Andy" you whimpered, eyes fluttering back as he held you there -stretching you open-while gripping your hips and pressing up firmly into your wanting hole.

You gasped, giggling blissfully when Andy rolled his hips forward, moving himself to the edge of the bench and leaning back against the wall. He let his thighs go slack before slamming up into you with purpose. You fell forward, hand catching on his chest as he fucked up relentlessly into your dripping cunt.

"Fuck, sweetheart..." Andy groaned, straining to keep his eyes open so he could watch your pretty face, "I... hate that fucking sorority house... if I knew it was in that neighborhood... I... fuck..." he grunted as you bounced on his hard cock, feral with want.

"Just shut up and make me cum... Barber" you goaded and then chirped when Andy lifted you from his lap with a growl, still connected as he stood, slamming you against the wall with a thud.

"Want me to fuck this needy little cunt?" Andy snarled, "been fucking you for the last 24 hours and it's still not enough?"

All you could do was whine as his cock pistoned into you, dragging over your sweet spots as he gripped bruises into the back of your thighs.

"Not gonna last much longer, sweetheart" he grunted, "gonna fill this little pussy so full... you're gonna be dripping with me while you watch me scoring like old times" Andy panted, his matted hair pressed to your glistening crown.

You cried out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as a final steely thrust punched the air from your lungs. Andy groaned your name when hot ropes of his spend spilled into you.

"Fuck... I love you..." Andy's voice was so low and gravely it had you gasping and clenching around him as you met your end.

You clawed at his sweatshirt, milking his cock dry when your bliss washed over you in waves, flooding every inch of your senses. Your toes curling in your boots painfully when your muscles went rigid before going pliant against him. You whimpered, sagging into Andy's chest as he held you.

Andy pulled away, searching your expression as he tried to read what you were thinking, you stared at him for a long moment, your eyes prickling with all those years of heartache.

Andy's chest felt impossibly tight. His eyebrows knit together in a frown as he tried to make sense of the whirlwind that was the last 24 hours. Why did he have to let that slip? So soon. Too soon.

"Andy... I..." your words were coming out shaky when the door to his office swung open.

"Hey... Coach B" Cappy said from behind Andy's broad shoulders. Steve's voice was cut off when he saw his coach, still pinning you to the wall as you squeaked, hiding your burning face in Andy's chest.

"Oh, shit... s-sorry, Coach... we... uh... we're starting in 5... but we can play without you... you're... busy" you could hear the smirk in Steve's voice as he slipped out of the office.

"You didn't lock the door?" Andy teased, carefully unwinding your legs and dropping you to your feet while you whined. Andy tucked himself back in his sweatpants with your face still pressed, completely mortified, into his hoodie.

"Hey... sweetheart. It's gonna be OK..." Andy voice was soft and reassuring, moving back towards the bench to sit down.

"You know how many times I've caught Cappy in the showers with a friend?" he shook his head, pulling you toward him.

"Oh, god" you whined, your face buried in your hands. Andy took your wrists and gave a gentle tug, pulling you even closer to him while his thick thighs caged you in.

"Sweetheart... look... I know this is all real fast... you don't have to say anything..." he started, taking your hands in his when you finally opened your eyes, blinking owlishly at him.

"No... it's not that..." you started.

"Cappy didn't see anything... and fuck those sorority girls... I've tried everything to discourage them..." he continued.

"Really?" you frowned, "I thought you liked this look" you motioned to your throwback outfit.

"I fucking love this look... I just..." his exhale was heavy, "I don't wanna scare you away... cause I'm fine with taking this slow... however slow you want...and..."

"Andy, I don't want..." a loud knock made you jump, catching your words at the back of your throat.

"Show time, Coach" Levs' voice came tentatively from the other side of the door, but this time it stayed closed.

Andy looked back at you, his expression pained before you ducked down, pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss.

"I don't want to take this slow, Andy... and... I love you too" you murmured against his lips as tears welled in your eyes, blinking them back, you giggled when Andy jumped from the bench, wrapping you in his arms and lifting you clear off the floor.

"Oh, thank fuck..." he sighed with relief, "I mean... fuck... I was so scared I said too much... I love you so much, y/n" he was blinking back his own tears when he set you down, framing your face and capturing your lips in a slow deliberate kiss.

"Um... Coach?" Ari cleared his voice, tapping from the other side of the door again.

"Better get out there, Coach B" you smiled.

"Right... let's go" his smile made your heart ache as he reached for your hand, "oh... wait... aren't you..." Andy hesitated for a moment, "gonna get cold" his cheeks flushed pink knowing you didn't have any panties on.

"Are you blushing, Andy Barber?" you teased, "weren't you just talking about filling me up so full that I'd be drippin' with you all game?"

A growl rumbled low in Andy's chest when he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your crown.

"Come on... I can show you the women's faculty bathroom on the way out" he said, taking his stick from behind his door as you grabbed your bag.

You couldn't possibly make eye contact with his players when you stepped through his doorway and into the locker room, but it didn't matter. The entire team was standing in a row outside Andy's office to high-five and congratulate their coach.

"Way to go, Coach B and Coach B’s Vixen” Steve clapped Andy on the back before Andy gave him a look and Ari shoved the other captain out of the way.

"Nice to you see you again" Ari smiled down at you, smirking when you startled at his sheer size on skates. There was a knowing twinkle in Ari's eye, but at least he wasn't giving you a hard time about not being able to keep your hands off Andy.

"Nice to see you too" you managed as Andy tucked you to his side and walked out of the locker room, the rest of the team following you out.

Andy waited for you outside the faculty bathroom, offering to walk you to the stands, but you told him you wanted to walk him to the ice. As you were pressing a kiss to his cheek a streak of pale flesh caught in your peripheral vision.

Your jaw dropped as you watched a hockey player in nothing but a pair of skates, white and green boxers and the mascot head run past you and jump onto the ice.

To the crowd’s amusement the player did a lap before dropping a few pucks and shooting at the open nets.

"What the hell... Storm?" Andy bellowed as a few alumni started snickering.

"It's not me, Coach" Storm called from behind Andy.

"Shea?" Andy barked as the team and alumni watched the officials skate after the perpetrator.

"Nope" Shea called, "fully dressed, sir."

"Barnesy?" Andy almost choked on his tongue as the ref skated over with Bucky, shoving him through the gates as Andy shook his head.

"I'm gonna have to let the president know about this, Coach Barber" the ref shook his head.

"Yeah, I get it" Andy sighed, nodding apologetically.

"He's not even naked" Cappy protested with a shrug as the alumni members and the team were ushered out on the ice for warm-ups.

"What do ya want me to do with him?" Coach Vaughan asked Andy. Andy blew out a heavy exhale, glaring at Bucky for a minute before speaking again.

"Suit up, Barnes" Andy shouted at his nearly naked player as Barnesy gave him a sheepish nod, flashing a glance into the stands before hightailing it back to the locker room.

"Damnit" Andy huffed when you were alone, "the president is gonna have my ass for this..."

"The president’s gonna have to get in line" you smirked, taking a handful of Andy's ass in your palm.

"Y/N" Andy's warning was half-hearted.

"He did it for a girl" you smiled softly up at Andy.

"What?” he smirked, narrowing his eyes at you as he remembered how observant you always were, “It doesn't matter" Andy huffed, but some of his annoyance had already bled from his tone.

"It's gonna be OK" you gave him a sympathetic smile, patting his forearm reassuringly.

"I could lose my job" Andy's brow furrowed.

"You won't..." your smile was shy, "you're the best coach the school's had in nearly 50 years"

"How do you know that?" he cocked his head, smirking down at you.

"You don't think I've been keeping' tabs on you, Barber?" you teased as he ducked down, pecking your lips.

A buzzer sounding had Andy straightening to his full height and putting his helmet on.

"Gotta go, sweetheart" he smiled as you held up your hand, fingers splayed and waiting.

Andy didn't say a word as he pressed his palm to yours, lacing your fingers together and twisting your hand up to his lips. He pressed three kisses along your knuckles for good luck before pressing a final kiss to the crown of your head. His ritual before every game all those years ago.

"Missed my good luck charm" his voice cracked with emotion, "I love you" he whispered, kissing your forehead again before putting his gloves on and joining the teams on the ice for the coin toss.

The scrimmage was over before you knew it. Watching Andy on the ice again brought back so many memories, it made your heart bloom to see him so happy and in his element.

He'd find you every so often in the stands, winking at you like no time had passed at all.

When the final buzzer sounded it was Alumni 2 - school team 1. Cappy and the boys didn't even have to give the old guys the win. Coach B was on fire- scoring both of his team's goals easily.

After the teams shook hands and the stands started to clear out, the alumni took a moment to congratulate Coach B for his great record since taking the position of head coach. Andy's players began slapping their sticks on the ice and chanting "Coach B... Coach B" but soon enough the chant morphed into "Coach B, hat trick... Coach B, hat trick..." to the confusion of the alumni.

After the players made it to the locker room and Andy pulled you back in his office to wait while he showered, you walked around his office looking at the achievement plaques on his wall. Andy joined you, toweling off his damp hair in jeans and a zip-up sweatshirt. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back into his chest as he leaned in and kissed your temple.

"Ready to go grab dinner?" he asked as you turned around in his arms.

"Yes" you sighed, pressing a kiss to his lips, "good game."

"Thank you" he smiled, his large hands running down your backside and cupping your ass. He frowned when he felt your panties through his jersey.

You smirked, rolling your eyes as you pressed your palms to his chest, pushing off playfully and catching his hand in yours, twirling on your toes and tugging him towards the door.

"If you wanna go somewhere nice I'm gonna have to change" Andy said.

"Me too" you smirked.

"Why would you change?" Andy questioned.

"I'm not exactly dressed appropriately" you bit your lip suggestively.

"I think you look great" Andy smiled, pulling you to his side as he turned to lock his office door.

"Hey... why were the players chanting hat trick" you asked, "you only scored twice... right?"

"Twice on the ice... once in my office" Andy waggled his eyebrows as you hit his chest with a groan.

"Hey... how about we get takeout instead?" Andy suggested, laughing.

"Yes!" you cheered, "from that good Chinese place on the corner of campus... are they still there?" you asked hopeful.

"They are" Andy confirmed with a warm exhale, this is all he's ever wanted.

"You remember what I used to promise you after every win?" you smiled, coyly.

"I do" Andy said, tugging you a little closer to him as you walked out the locker room doors.

"Hope you had a banana, Barber... think it's gonna be another long night" you teased, but Andy stopped dead in his tracks, as you stumbled to stay upright.

"Andy!” you squeaked, turning around with a frown.

"I want it to be a long night... and a long morning" Andy said, smiling down at you, "I want all your days and nights, y/n... move in with me?"

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 ❤️

A/N: I don’t have any issue with sororities- it was just part of the storyline.

Picture from a Fila photoshoot.

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

R.I.P. Matthew

Matthew Langford Perry (August 19, 1969 - October 28, 2023)

#Thunderbolts

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! 🤍

WHY is this so hot 🥵

Happy birthday Sebastian!

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 ❤️