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pellucid-constellations · 8 months

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Are You Bored Yet?

Pairing: College!Bucky x Tutor!Reader

Summary: God, you hated Bucky. Bucky probably hated you, too. Maybe. It was hard to tell when he was drunk and calling you pretty at a party you shouldn't have gone to.

Word count: 8k

Warnings: Alcohol, annoyance to lovers, a bit of angst, a scary man in a parking lot, frat!bucky c:

a/n: I am so excited to finally post something!! It only took me four months 😅 If you enjoy it please please let me know ❤️❤️

Masterlist

12:59 pm.

The birchwood table nestled in the back of the library was long but otherwise empty, the only thing occupying it being your laptop and quite a few books. He wasn’t late. Yet. You weren’t going to hold onto that hope, however.

Tutoring Bucky Barnes was not what you had in mind when you volunteered for the peer assistance program at your university. It was true you were only using the club to boost your resume, but you had assumed the only people reaching out for help would be those that actually wanted it. Unfortunately, that was not the case.

Sure, Bucky wanted help. Just not with anything that actually warranted the word. He wanted help sweet talking the cops so they wouldn't shut down his parties. He wanted help recruiting girls to show up to his parties. And—the one thing you could actually do—he wanted help passing his classes with the minimum GPA required to not get kicked out of his frat. So he could continue to throw parties.

Everything in his life revolved around his fraternity, which made you very important to him. When he wanted you to be.

With your apparently astounding knowledge of biology (you took notes during lectures), you became the star in Bucky’s life every Monday and Wednesday from 1:00 pm (give or take ten minutes) to 2:00 pm. He was also very attentive during the thirty minute phone calls he initiated prior to tests, and always looked happy to see you when he passed you devouring a bagel at the crack of dawn in the dining hall.

Every situation in which you had come in contact with Bucky was isolated and purposeful (minus the bagel). You didn’t hang out or invite each other places, and you were almost positive that if you were to see him in his natural habitat, you would want to tutor him even less than you did now, and that was saying something. So you were important to Bucky during the times you were supposed to be important, and he was important to you in the sense that he was a job.

But as your laptop blinked the numbers 1:22 pm back at your unimpressed expression, Bucky became much less important today. You took in a long, tortured breath before sending your gaze up to the ceiling, giving it another three minutes before you truly gave up on him for the day.

One minute.

Two minutes.

The library really needed new ceiling tiles.

1:25 pm and you snapped your laptop shut. Your fingers itched to send yet another complaint about this whole ordeal Natasha’s way, but you stopped yourself. She had already heard plenty about Barnes at this point, plus she always gave you a weird look every time you came stomping into the apartment, grumbling about something else he had done.

You hated her weird looks, all raised eyebrows and stiff lips.

With your backpack heaved onto the table and your things slowly funneling in, you figured a nap was the best reward for sitting in the library for an unnecessary twenty-five minutes. Your last prickle of irritation was stifled at the prospect of a warm bed as you stood, only to find that irritation had returned to you tenfold. In the form of Bucky Barnes.

“You going somewhere?” he seemed to taunt, his bag slung casually over one shoulder.

Your jaw ticked. “Home.”

His mouth turned up at one side, an expression you had learned meant he found you amusing. He never seemed to outright laugh at your annoyance, but apparently, it was hard to tamp down all of the joy he got out of it. Bucky took two long strides to meet the table you were attempting to abandon.

“But I still got about—” he checked his watch “—thirty-three minutes? And an arsenal of questions about amino acids. Help a guy out.”

“And I still got—” you checked the nonexistent watch on your wrist “—no patience for this today. You’re over twenty minutes late, Barnes. Use that watch to set an alarm on Wednesday and I’ll tell you everything you’ll inevitably forget about amino acids then.”

He groaned, rounding the table to set firm hands on your shoulders as he hovered behind you. “Sit. I’ll buy you a coffee and I promise I won’t be late on Wednesday, okay? I was dealing with something before this and lost track of time.”

“Were you dealing with another sorority girl in your bed? Who was it last week? Amber? No, Michelle?”

“It’s a Monday, y/n. Cut me some slack.”

“You came to me on a Wednesday with a hangover,” you deadpanned.

Bucky grimaced, the expression visible to you as he managed to guide you back into your chair. “Oat milk, right? A double?”

You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as he tossed his bag by your feet and jogged over to the coffee cart just outside the library. He fumbled with his wallet when he went to pay, and you watched him point to the carton of oat milk the barista had yet to reach for. His greek letters were printed on the gray hoodie he had haphazardly thrown over his shoulders, and you held the reprimand on your tongue when you saw the matching sweatpants he donned.

The last time he had shown up in his pajamas—late—you’d had some choice words for him. Bucky turned around with your coffee then, poking the straw through the lid and sending you a sheepish smile through the window.

He was lucky you accepted bribes.

“Please,” the boy across from you continued to beg, a pen held loosely between pliant fingers. “Just ask her, that’s all I want. You can even come too.”

“Oh, wow, the great frat president letting me come to his stupid toga party? How could I ever thank you enough?”

It was Wednesday now, and Bucky was surprisingly on time to the tutoring session. You’d gotten through about half of the last bio lecture before he started asking you ridiculous questions that had nothing to do with the content. Today, he was dead set on getting your lab partner from chemistry to go to his party this weekend.

“Okay, yeah, you could come to whatever party you want, you know? I put you on the list—but this one will be even better if you’d just do this one thing for me.”

You finally tore your eyes from your laptop, glancing lazily at him. “And what would make this one so—wait, what list?”

He waved you off. “The one at the door. Did it like… the second week we started this? Anyways, Wanda?”

You let this new information settle and tried to ignore whatever implications came with being on some frat list thanks to Bucky. He had never explicitly invited you to any of his parties over the past few months and you had never asked to come. Apparently, you could have shown up whenever you wanted to and had a grand old time.

Not that that sounded the least bit grand.

Bucky was looking at you still, all pleading features and a soft, infuriating smile on his lips. When he wasn’t talking to random girls in the library or taking annoying phone calls in the middle of your sessions, he was sort of endearing. In a terrible, awful sense.

You groaned, throwing yourself back against your chair in begrudging defeat. “I don’t even talk to her outside of chem. Don’t you think it’d be a little weird to invite her to a party that I’m not even going to?”

“So come,” he answered simply, as if that was in the realm of possibilities.

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Sure, I’ll come to your party, Barnes.”

“Great,” he grinned. “Vision’s gonna be so hyped.”

You watched as he pulled his phone from his pocket and kept your lie to yourself. He wouldn’t notice that you didn’t show up on Friday, and likely wouldn’t even bring it up the following Monday. He always had such vibrant, headache-inducing stories that you were sure your absence would be nothing more than a fleeting footnote.

“You have a toga, right?” he mumbled, face still screwed up in concentration as he continued his text.

“Isn’t it just a sheet all twisted up?” you asked, shutting your computer. Tutoring was obviously over.

Bucky pocketed his phone again, brows raised in amusement. “Depends on your motives for the night.”

“And my motives wouldn’t be to… wear a toga?”

He chuckled and huffed out your name, resting an arm along the back of the chair to his right—your chair. “Other motives. Like if you’re trying to get someone’s attention.”

You blinked at the warmth along your back. “Oh, of course. Then I would twist up a pillowcase instead, right?”

“Something like that.”

He smelled like coconut. Like a day at the beach but afterwards, when the sunscreen still lingered in the air but fresh clothes covered skin that had been warmed by the sun. You could usually ignore whatever expensive combination he had on his skin, but when he got close like this it was almost impossible.

Part of you always wanted to chuck his arm away when he leaned over you, but another part of you liked that he kept it there. It was a strange part of you, the same one that relished the looks you got from sorority girls in the library and harbored a sense of pride each time he made a blatant attempt to touch you.

You had spent fleeting moments analyzing these emotions and chalked them up to some internalized desire for validation. Nothing else. Bucky was a hot guy and everyone knew that, so having his attention—in any capacity—felt nice. Sometimes. Meaning right now it was nice that he was looking at you with his arm practically glued to your back, but next week when he showed up late with a hangover and tried to steal the jacket off your body it would be not so nice.

The duality of man.

It helped your partial insanity that Bucky would never actually be interested in you. You weren’t in a sorority or interested to his parent’s money, and, worst of all, you didn’t know how to maneuver a sheet into a toga. When he put his arm around you or moved your hair from your eyes as you leaned over a book, it was probably out of habit. It felt nice, but you knew reality. This was a passing phase, and by the summer you wouldn’t even speak to him anymore.

“I’ll text you more info about everything,” Bucky called, pulling you from your thoughts. “You can come early and I’ll help you with that pillowcase.”

You froze, the book you were shoving into your bag pausing in your hands. “Uh, maybe.”

“No, seriously, it’d be better if you came early. I was kidding about the pillowcase but if you come on time it’ll be too crazy for me to show you around.”

“You don’t have to show me around, Bucky. I’ve been to a house party before.”

“Y/n, are you not coming to this thing?” Bucky accused, swiping the book from your hands and softly tossing it on the table. It still made a loud thud that had a few bitter looks thrown your way.

“Dude!” you whispered, meeting each mean gaze with your apologetic one. “Why does it matter if I come? You just wanted Wanda anyway.”

He knocked your hand away when you went to reach for the book again, encircling your wrist with his fingers. “You just lied to me. Straight to my face. You said you’d come and now you gotta.”

You gave his fingers an experimental tug, but he was unrelenting in his soft grip. You glared at him through your lashes, meeting his uncharacteristically stern gaze that contrasted the humor on his lips.

“You ever hear of sarcasm?” you whispered with a half-hearted bite.

“Unfortunately, that’s about all I hear outta you,” he smirked back.

You rolled your eyes, finally yanking hard enough to free yourself from him. “Then you should have known I wasn’t going to come. No matter what ‘list’ you put me on.”

“What else could you possibly have going on on a Friday night?”

Ouch. You felt your brows furrow even though you didn’t will them to, and even worse, you felt a rash defensiveness lodge itself in your throat. You hated the heat that now prickled along the skin of your neck, and you hated even more how it extinguished all of the good warmth you had felt from him earlier.

This was humiliation, surely—the kind that only came from feeling small.

“You don’t have to be a dick,” you seethed, snapping up the remainder of your belongings. “Just because I don’t want to go to your stupid frat doesn't mean I have nothing to do. I don’t spend all of my time hoping to get invited to ridiculous parties.”

Bucky shifted up in his seat, eyes blown just a fraction wider. “Whoa, I didn’t mean—hey, stop a sec, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Whatever, Bucky,” you droned, as a new temperature seeped into the skin of your palms and made them clammy. Any semblance of delusion you’d fallen into earlier was long gone now, but you knew to expect that. He wasn’t interested in you and you weren’t interested in him. But embarrassment wasn’t a good feeling, regardless of a multitude of reality checks.

Bucky got up when you did, his clothes looking creased and lived in. “We still have time in our session,” he defended, arm jutting out to the table. “C’mon, I didn’t mean you don’t have friends.”

Your glare sharpened. “Great, another insinuation.”

Bucky sputtered out incoherent words as you continued your trek outside, resorting to grabbing your wrist again, this time with more urgency. You felt the heat in you simmer down to a dull throb as he made contact, mostly out of respect for your future self. If you made this a huge deal it would only embarrass you more.

“Look, it doesn’t even matter, okay?” you huffed, but he just tugged you forward. It was then that you realized you were in the doorway of the library, effectively blocking it off from anyone trying to leave. Bucky pulled you close enough to his chest that you weren’t in the way anymore. His cologne was back with a vengeance, your nose just inches from his collar.

You took a steadying breath, blinking away the remnants of shame. “It doesn’t matter, I overreacted.”

He clicked his tongue. “I’m still apologizing. I didn’t mean any of that stuff you were talking about.”

Of course he did. You were sure he thought it all the time. He just didn’t mean to say it out loud.

“It’s fine,” you rushed. “I have to go, anyway. Office hours.”

“Okay,” he nodded, soft and low, like he just remembered he was in a library. “You’ll still come this weekend, right? Even if Wanda can’t?”

“You have some kind of girl quota you need to meet?” you pressed.

Bucky smiled, still so close to you that you could feel the small breath that accompanied the expression. “And she’s back.”

You left without promising anything, and Bucky left feeling like you had.

Sometime between Wednesday and Friday, your detestment for frat parties had snowballed into determination. You were going to go and you were going to look like you were having so much fun it was ridiculous. Then, on Monday, when Bucky would usually poke and prod about what you’d gotten up to over the past few days, you were going to pretend that it was nothing for you. That you did that every weekend.

Of course, you didn’t. Your weekends typically consisted of calm nights with friends or dinners near campus. You’d been to a party before, sure, but you didn’t exactly frequent those kinds of scenes.

Bucky had continued to make it clear that you were invited. He had texted you a few times, prompting you to come and thanking you for getting Wanda to agree. The messages looked strange under the plethora of biology related questions, but that just spurred you further into action. You weren’t just a tutor with no social life, and Bucky was going to see that tonight. You couldn’t remember doing something out of pure spite before, but you figured having fun to prove a point wasn’t the worst thing.

Wanda pulled you out of your thoughts as the Uber rounded the last dark corner and revealed an overcrowded house with too many lights on. She rambled on about some guy she couldn’t wait to see and confirmed that she would likely be spending the night. You expected as much; it hadn’t taken much convincing to get her to come. If this night resulted in anything good it was apparently the blossoming relationship between your new friend and a man you’d never met.

Wanda continued to chat as she yanked you out of the car and past the yard littered with sparse grass. The music was loud already—the type of loud that you needed to be at least a little drunk to enjoy. And that was the plan.

“Okay, if I start dancing on a table you pull me down. And if you start dancing on a table I support you, right?” Wanda giggled, her voice now raised as you walked past the threshold of the house.

“Exactly,” you yelled back. A guy nodded to you as he leaned against the front door, his eyes glancing up from his phone and then returning. It seemed Bucky’s ‘list’ was a page on some guy’s notes app. How luxurious. “Let’s drink.”

The next hour was a blur. You tried your hardest to get as drunk as possible and Wanda tried her hardest to find the British man she was enamored with. You hadn’t seen Bucky, but you figured he wasn’t looking for you too hard since you hadn’t responded to any of his texts. Not out of anger, but because you didn’t know what to say. Somehow, with alcohol warming your blood and music vibrating your skin, none of that mattered anymore.

You: Your house is soooo dirty

Your phone jostled in your grip, people bumping into you from every side. When he didn’t answer in the thirty seconds you spent staring at the screen, you locked it and continued on with your mission.

After a few too many shots of hard liquor, you switched to beer. Gross, but decidedly less likely to make you pass out on the staircase of this house. Because you weren’t lying in your text—it was slightly disgusting. You figured you should clarify that with Bucky. You reached for your phone once again, knocking your head against the wall in the process and giggling to yourself. You had no idea where Wanda went.

The device was snatched from your hands just as quickly as the screen had lit up your face.

“You ever answer this thing?” an accusing voice called out. “Or do you just insult people and put it on do not disturb?”

The look on Bucky’s face would have made you roll your eyes in any other circumstance. Right now, however, it had a startled laugh bursting past your lips. You clutched at your stomach as the laugh grew and you found yourself tipping forward until your forehead met his chest. You felt delirious, almost silly. A hand came around to rest on the back of your neck.

“Alright, alright.” Bucky’s words rumbled against your face. “I get it, this is hilarious.”

“Your… your face,” you breathed out, catching your breath enough to part from him. “It was all—” you mimicked the straight line of his eyebrows, voice raising in a mocking tone. “—You don’t ever answer your phone. You’re so boring, y/n, answer your phone.”

“I didn’t call you boring. Hey—hey,” Bucky stressed, reaching for you as you leaned too far to the side, a smile still lingering on your face. “Jesus, y/n, how much did you have to drink?”

You went to mock him again, but his fingers on your jaw stopped you. He tilted your head up and to the left, and although he was much more composed than you were, you could still smell the alcohol on his breath. You scrunched up your nose as he continued his inspection.

“Why’re you being so uptight?” you slurred, trying and failing to push away from him. “I thought you were all like, ‘I’m Bucky and I party and get drunk and have sex with girls.’”

Bucky pulled you forward as you laughed at your impression of him, his shaking head making you blink away a bout of dizziness. You toppled over a set of stairs as he threaded his fingers through yours, and then you stumbled through a doorway and onto carpeted floors. Being pressed into an uncomfortable chair was the most jarring action, the world still spinning as you sat.

“You’re even more mean when you're drunk,” you heard Bucky mumble. You couldn’t quite catch him as he moved around whatever room you were in. “And I don’t talk like that.”

You let out a careless sigh and leaned back. “You soooo talk like that.”

Something cold pressed to your hand, followed by another touch to the back of your neck. You gazed down at the water bottle being guided up to your lips and couldn’t find it in you to fight against it, despite the small spark of defiance on the tip of your tongue. After about four large swallows, Bucky was satisfied.

He asked again how much you’d had to drink.

You answered that you didn’t know—that it didn’t matter because he wasn’t your dad and you were having fun like you always did. He bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t say anything for the next few moments.

And then, “Thought you weren’t gonna come tonight.”

You hummed, rolling your head against the chair to look up at his standing form. “Of course I was going to come. I love parties. Love drinking alcohol.”

His expression twisted into something you couldn’t recognize. “God, you’re so drunk.”

“M’not even that drunk!”

“You’re willingly in my room right now. You’re plastered.”

“Maybe I want to be in your room.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

You chuckled breathily, closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see the pretty flush of Bucky’s face. “You think you know everything, don’t you? Don’t know much about me though. Or biology.”

Bucky kneeled down to the height of the chair. “And what do I not know about you?”

“So much.”

“How much?”

You bit into your lip and cracked an eye open, catching the amusement that had slipped past the strange mask of his emotions. With blissful ignorance, you heaved yourself forward on the chair, your nose a few inches from Bucky’s. His eyes didn’t waver from yours as you swayed.

“You don’t know that I’m the most interesting person on Earth,” you boasted, fingers gripping the upholstery of your seat.

“That right?” Bucky probed, his voice a melodic hum.

“Yup, I’m always really busy and even though you think I’m some boring biology tutor I’m actually super cool and, like, go to raves and stuff.”

His brow twitched but his mouth stayed soft. “I’ve never said you were boring. And I don’t think you’ve ever been to a rave.”

You groaned loudly and flopped against the backrest of the chair. “See! I’m telling you I do all this cool stuff and I’m so drunk my fingers are buzzing and you still don’t believe me.”

You crossed your arms with a huff, a small pout forming on your lips. In any other context, this behavior would probably embarrass you to no end. In the dim light of Bucky’s room where you felt the feeling leave your fingers and the care leave your mind, you were just disgruntled, not embarrassed. If you remembered this tomorrow the latter would surely catch up to you.

Bucky stared at you from his spot on the ground, his gaze a bit foggy and unfocused. He was clearly intoxicated, as you deduced earlier, and it made him look more wild. Mused hair and pink cheeks, he looked like he’d been having plenty of fun before he found you. It was distracting. He was distracting you from proving that you were having a blast.

“What?” you snapped, the tone a testament to the drunken fit you were throwing.

“You’re so fucking pretty.”

He must be really, really drunk. Despite your clouded mind, you knew that, but the words affected you just the same. Your lips parted as a new lightness both lit up and compressed your chest, and Bucky watched the movement.

“Yeah,” you scoffed, but it was hardly a scoff. “Sure, Bucky. How much did you have to drink—”

“I’m not lying. I’ve thought about you in my room for weeks and now you’re here and you’re so pretty. Even when you’re yelling at me.”

“You’ve… thought about me in your room?”

Bucky shuffled forward and you subconsciously parted your legs to allow the space for him. “I think about you everywhere.”

This was crazy. It was certifiably insane. A voice in the back of your head—Natasha’s voice, it sounded like—was screaming at you to stop and think about the situation at hand. He was drunk, you were even more drunk, and he was far too close to you. He had ushered you in here with good intentions and had sobered you up a fraction, but things had taken a turn and this was a sensitive situation. The kind of sensitive that altered your reality and his and probably a bunch of other people’s you’d never met.

Or it could be nothing and you were over exaggerating.

But then Bucky’s hand was warming your thigh. You’d felt the press of it on your back and your shoulder and your head before, but it had never been on your thigh. It felt heavy there, hot. His other hand moved to touch your face and he propped himself up on one knee. His thumb brushed your cheek. Words tumbled from your mouth before you registered that you were speaking.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Why would you ask that? Who asks Bucky Barnes if he’s going to kiss them?

“Would you let me?” he responds.

“Yes.”

He didn’t waste any time, his mouth hot against yours. He tasted like mint and vodka and his lips moved so slowly it ached. You had expected a fervor behind his lips, but instead you got a build up, an orchestra reaching its crescendo. He was kissing you like you were important, like this wasn’t some random hookup in his bedroom at 1 o’clock in the morning, and you had to catch your breath when he parted from you.

But he moved back in so quickly after your brief respite, and you were eager to give him more. This was crazy, insane. This was the best kiss you’d ever have and also the worst. This was months of staring at his stupid lips when he tried explaining concepts back to you, but this was also weeks of feeling small in his presence. Bucky slid his hand back to press against your hair and you didn’t feel small anymore.

A loud thud from the hallway interrupted the silence you’d created, and Bucky pulled back, keeping his hands on you as he craned his neck around to stare at the door. He waited a beat, and then two, and then he turned back to you. The moment was gone, but he was still touching you. You weren’t sure what you wanted—if you wanted him to kiss you again or run out the door—but when he slid his hands from your body and rubbed them down his jeans, it became clear that was not what you wanted.

A knot formed in your stomach when he met your gaze again, and you tried blinking the feeling away. It didn’t work.

“Um,” Bucky began, his voice sounding more clear, his tone not holding the weight it had.

Your plan had backfired. Severely. This was a mess and you needed to save yourself before you ended this night even more humiliated.

You were still drunk. Pretend you were still plastered.

You giggled airily, the sound burning your throat. “That was loud.”

Bucky blinked at you in what you assumed was disbelief. “Probably just someone trying to find the bathroom,” he clarified.

You shrugged, nudging him back with your knee as you stood from the chair. “I’m bored now.” You took fast steps to the door, your words foreign to you. “Thanks for the water,” you all but gritted out.

You expected him to get up. Not to run after you or proclaim his love or even say anything. But you expected him to get up.

He didn’t, and you couldn’t understand how the knot in your stomach had moved to your throat. Or how it made tears spring to your eyes when your feet hit the sidewalk outside. Your Uber came and you couldn’t understand how you felt hot and cold at the same time. How it was freezing outside but you were sweating.

You couldn’t understand why you were crying over a boy that so often infuriated you, or why he kissed you in his bedroom. The reasonable side of you sent gentle reminders that he was in a frat and kissing people is just what he did. All the time. But the unreasonable side of you won out tonight, and it was telling you that this felt different.

That you should be different, somehow.

Bucky: You’re here???

Bucky: Where are you?

Bucky: Y/n answer your damn phone

Bucky: This place is fucking packed tonight I thought you weren’t coming

You stared at the text messages you hadn’t read last night, the bright light of your phone burning into your retinas. You had a brutal hangover, and the memory of the disaster in Bucky’s room felt like an even bigger one.

You’d gone through a myriad of emotions the night before, tossing around excuses and speeches in your head until you were so exhausted you let the alcohol in your system lull you to sleep. With all of that delirious thinking, you’d landed on blacking out. You were going to tell Bucky you blacked out last night and couldn’t remember a thing. He obviously wouldn’t care and would probably appreciate it.

Saturday was slow-moving. Reruns of television shows and bags of popcorn and overthinking. Natasha was at her parent’s house in the city, so you had no one to bounce your racing thoughts off of. You certainly weren’t going to text her about it.

When the evening finally rolled around and your attempts at distracting yourself with mind-numbing movies failed, you checked your email. You always tried not to on the weekends, but doing anything else sounded much less appealing.

Unfortunately, you didn’t get past the first one.

From: University Peer Assistance Program

Dear Y/n Y/l/n,

This is an automated message from the campus peer assistance program. We thank you for your continued devotion to the betterment of students at this school. At this time, your tutoring placement with James Barnes has ended. We will search for a new placement to fill your current hours.

Thank you,

University Peer Assistance

You blinked at the email, then blinked again. The breath left your chest and the muscles on your face twitched, but you were otherwise frozen.

This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? To be free from the haughty frat boy that didn’t even listen to you when you tried to help him raise his grades. You wanted someone nice, someone that had the same goals as you and appreciated the color-coded notes you took for them. Bucky only tried to get a rise out of you. He sat too close and made fun of you and put you on lists you didn’t ask to be on.

But he had kissed you. He had kissed you and then tutor-dumped you.

You knew you weren’t his type, but were you really that bad? Was the kiss so terrible?

Every inferiority complex you had developed exploded. You over-analyzed things that had already happened, things you had said. Not just at the party, but in the library, the coffee shops, the lecture halls.

Was he really willing to risk his position in the frat just to avoid you?

The strangle tickle of tears itched to be released from your eyes again, but you pressed it down. No, this wasn’t on you. He had kissed you. He had dragged you into his room and stumbled on pretty words. If he didn’t want you to tutor him anymore because of his stupid mistake, fine.

His mistake.

That word felt wrong.

You tossed your phone on the couch with vigor. The clock above the television read out 10 pm, but that meant little to you as you slid on your shoes at the front door. You were wearing sweatpants and a jacket that was far too big on you, sadness and frustration and raw confusion propelling you down your apartment stairs.

Ice cream would fix this.

The only place open at this time was the gas station at the edge of campus. It wasn’t university affiliated and was usually overrun with belligerent greek life trying to buy alcohol, but the decision-making part of your brain was currently shut off.

Ice cream, anger, probably watching tiktoks until your eyes were too heavy to keep open—those were the only things rattling in your head.

You yanked open the gas station door after your short walk, the glass smudged and fogged from the cold night. The fluorescent lights aggravated the headache you’d been sporting all day and the floor made sticking noises with each step you took. To add insult to injury, there were only three cartons of ice cream left, and they weren’t even the good flavors. Grabbing the least offensive one, you made your way to the small line of people by the register.

“Nice outfit.”

Too enthralled by the disappointing ingredient list on the side of your ice cream, you had missed the tall man now looming at your shoulder. You whipped your head around with a start, taking a step back, smelling menthol and asphalt and nothing good.

“Thanks,” you quietly replied.

He waited until you turned back around to continue. “You go to school over here?”

You kept your gaze forward. “Um, yeah.”

“Nice. I graduated a few years back. Marketing.”

“Cool,” you replied. What had compelled you to leave your phone on the couch? This night sucked.

You found reprieve in the line moving, the employee calling you over to check out. As soon as you paid—a few dollar bills funneled out of your pocket with shaky hands—you booked it. Your ice cream burned in your palm but you didn’t care, feet carrying you out the door and into the dimly lit parking lot. You fisted your keys in your fingers; pointless, you knew, but a small comfort.

The man’s voice returned with the chime of the bell over the gas station door. “Wait! Wait, I’m Beck. I own a business nearby.”

You should have kept walking, but one of your fatal flaws was, apparently, people pleasing. You turned to him. He smiled at you but it made your stomach twist.

“Oh, nice,” you responded, rocking back on your heels.

“We should connect. Maybe go for coffee or something?” He took a step forward. You fought the urge to take one back. His beard was unkempt and he held a six pack in his white-knuckled grip.

“Um, I don’t know. I’m pretty busy with finals coming up. Plus, I’m not really in the business field.”

“Not for business then,” he smiled again, teeth dull in the streetlight.

Just agree. If you agreed you could block him soon after and everything would be fine.

You took too long to answer. He took the final step forward to arrive in your space and wrapped his fingers around your bicep. “C’mon, I’m not asking you to marry me or anything.”

Frozen by fear, you let out a weak laugh. The pint in your hand was sticking to your skin now in a way that would be painful when you tried to let go of it later. Your breath rattled in your chest when you laughed again.

“Sure, okay.” But he didn’t let go of your arm, instead sliding it down to the bone of your wrist.

“What about now?” he posed. “You don’t look too busy. I can make you something at my place.”

He was at least ten years older than you. You attempted to pull yourself from his grasp to no avail. Maybe reasoning would work.

“My roommate's waiting for me,” you lied. “Could you let go? I sprained my wrist at the gym last week,” you lied again.

He refused with a shake of his head. You took a panicked glance inside the gas station to your right. No one was looking.

“Please let go of me.”

The call of your name from the other side of the parking lot initially sent more unbearable fear down your spine. But then the owner of that voice registered in your brain, and although it had been the cause of your recent internal strife, you couldn't be more grateful to hear it.

He said your name again, closer now and questioning. Bucky jogged up to the pair of you, saw your wrist and the man holding it hostage, and looked back up at you with confused, wild eyes.

“You know this guy?” he asked, jutting his thumb out at Beck.

“No,” you whispered. The word was short but the syllable still trembled.

Bucky didn’t look confused anymore. He looked pissed. “Wanna take your fucking hands off her?”

Beck was tall, but Bucky was taller. And angry. Beck released your wrist and raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Whoa, man, no need for the theatrics. I’m guessing you’re here to stock up for a party? I used to be in Sigma Nu.”

When Bucky’s silent glare failed to dampen, Beck continued with, “We were just planning a night at my place, right?”

His nod in your direction made your breath catch. Bucky took his piercing gaze off of Beck and softened it as it fell on you. You wanted to respond, but words were gone. They were impossible. Your ice cream was melting.

“Yeah, I think we’re done here,” Bucky scoffed, placing his arm around your shoulder. He guided you past the wall of a man, making sure to drive his shoulder into his chest as he went. Beck went to say more, to protest or whine, but Bucky shot him such a scathing look it almost made you wither.

The smell of coconut and spices and a hint of whisky met your nose, and it was familiar. It was safe. You fumbled with the keys in your hands as your feet guided you wherever Bucky was going, and then you fumbled even more, soft jingling disrupting the softness of footfall. God, why wouldn’t you stop shaking?

A hand fell atop yours, crunching the keys to a halt. You stared down at them, unsteady breath hitting the tanned fingers that served as your current anchor.

“Look at me, y/n.”

You couldn’t. You couldn’t do anything.

“Sweetheart, eyes up. All you gotta do.” Bucky’s voice was as soft as it was last night. That was the only reason you were able to follow his request. “There she is,” he hummed.

He removed his arm from your shoulders and shifted in front of you, placing his hand on your cheek. You ignored that it felt the same as it had last night. You ignored that you wanted it to feel the same for him, too.

“You okay?” he asked, tilting his neck down to better see your face. His thumb brushed under your eye. “He hurt you?”

You shook your head, whispering no, whispering that you were fine.

Bucky nodded to himself, eyes tracking down to your toes and then back up again. He must have mistaken your shaking for coldness because the next thing he did was guide you into the car behind him. You didn’t know it was his.

He blasted the heat the second he got in. He had shuffled you into your seat with his hands before that, smoothed your hair down and closed the door after you were settled and not shaking as hard. The heat dried out your eyes. It distracted you enough to let words form.

“Thank you,” you said. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t bring my phone with me. I should’ve.”

“Of course.”

There was a beat of silence. The relief you had felt earlier had been muddled down to an awkward pit in your stomach, and you weren’t sure if Bucky felt it too or if he was still riding a testosterone-fueled adrenaline high.

You wanted to go home now; this was uncomfortable and you had felt Bucky’s lips on yours less than twenty-four hours ago with no closure. He obviously didn’t want to be around you. This was probably a responsibility thing for him.

“I can… I can walk home now. The guy left. I’m just a quarter mile away and you probably have to stock up or whatever.”

He looked at you with a pinched expression. “I’m not letting you walk home after that. You kiddin’ me?”

“I’ll be fine, really. I walk over here all the time.”

“You get harassed all the time too?”

“No…”

“Exactly. So you’re not walking home.”

“Bucky—”

“Look I’m not gonna kiss you again, alright? So you don’t have to turn down a ride because of that.”

Your ice cream was soup at this point. You let it roll into your lap as you clamped your mouth shut just to open it again. Bucky ran a rough hand through his hair before dropping it on the steering wheel, clutching at it with no place to go.

“I’m not following,” you finally relented.

A loud sigh released from his nose. “You don’t have to worry about me kissing you again. I just want to make sure you get home safe and then I’ll leave you alone.”

“Worry about—you’re the one trying to avoid me,” you snapped, frozen fingers pointing to your chest. “You tutor-dumped me.”

“Tutor-dumped? How do you…” he trailed off.

“I get an email when you make a change request, Bucky.”

He stared at you for a moment, lips parted and unmoving. He clenched his jaw a moment later, a red tint adorning his cheeks.

“Well, you—you—look, I know you don’t like me, y/n. You’ve made that clear,” he stuttered, words getting louder as he moved his hands around with each one. “But I like you. I like when you get mad at me and when you yell at me for not listening and when you get all embarrassed when I play with your hair. And I’ve been trying to get you to come to one of my parties since we started this whole thing, but every time I talk about them you seem to like me even less.

“If I had known insulting you would get your attention, I woulda done that week one,” he exasperated. You sat up in your seat but he continued. “I didn’t mean any of that shit you thought I did. You’re not boring. And I didn’t mean to kiss you, but you looked—well, I already told you.”

“So you don’t want me to be your tutor anymore because you like me?” You spoke slowly, each word careful.

“No,” he sighed, frustrated. “I can’t be around you because I kissed you and you didn’t care. Because I’ll want to kiss you all the time and you didn’t even wanna kiss me once. I know we were drunk, I get that, but I’ve wanted that for a long time and I need to move on. It’s nothing against your… tutoring skills. If that’s what you’re worried about”

“But you talk about hooking up with other girls all the time, Bucky. To me.”

“You ever hear of lying?”

“Why would you—”

“You really gonna make me live out all of my failures with you?”

You’d read so many things wrong. Taken so many things the wrong way. You figured the email earlier was the final nail in the coffin, but this was something else entirely. This was Bucky, sitting next to you in his car looking distressed and frazzled with his hair six different directions, telling you that he’s been trying to get your attention since he met you. That you weren’t small or insignificant or boring.

It was probably a terrible idea to follow through with your next thought. You’d probably get hurt in the long run. But you did it anyway.

“I wanted you to kiss me.” Bucky’s head whipped towards you. You bit the inside of your cheek and said, “I want you to kiss me all the time.”

He whispered your name. It sounded like the air had left every corner of his body. But he didn’t move, and you needed to rectify that.

“You’re infuriating,” you began. Bucky cringed, but you needed to explain as he had. “You’re like the antithesis of everything I want out of college. You don’t care about classes. You’re always late. You talk too loud in the library.”

You took a deep breath, fiddling with the loose thread of your pants. You couldn’t make eye contact with anything but the ground.

“But then you know my coffee order when I’ve never told it to you. You save me from losers in parking lots and make sure I’m not drunk out of my mind at your obscene party. You make me feel… you make me feel stupid sometimes. And I thought it was because you’re everything I’m not, but I really think it’s because you’re everything I told myself I should stay away from. But I don’t want to.

“I wanted you to kiss me at that party and I want you to kiss me now.”

“Then get over here. I’m not kissing you over some bullshit center console.”

You twisted to follow his directions, gasping as his hands clasped around your waist to tug you into his lap. It wasn’t seamless—there was laughing and your head briefly connected with the roof of the car—but Bucky’s touch was everywhere, soothing the uncertainty and fear and slight headache.

His forehead connected with yours when you felt secure in his arms. His fingers slid down from your waist over the material of your sweatpants and when he spoke next you felt the words on your own lips.

“You’re wearing sweatpants. You get so mad when I wear sweatpants.”

You laughed. “I get mad because it usually means you just rolled out of bed, and you’re usually. late.”

“I got a secret,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours. “I’m never late. And I only wear those sweatpants around you. You get cute when you’re pissed at me.”

“Well, I’m about to be really cute—”

He kissed you. You’d have plenty of time to argue later.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #college!bucky #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #college AU #frat!bucky #marvel imagine

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flowrmoth · 4 days

Text

...and then what happened? pt. 2

Synopsis: ellie helps you get ready for another date, but you unexpectedly come back to her apartment a bit earlier than planned...

AN: i have no words for this, just enjoy. i got a little too carried away. hope i did it justice. (i don't know how to write smut all that well lol), also can we agree that ellie definitely whines and whimpers in bed? thanks

WC: 6.6k (jesus)

Warnings: mdni!!! smut!!!, pining, kissing, oral (r!receiving), masturbation, finger sucking, lowk loser!ellie who still gets bitches even if she doesn't do anything, lowk perv!ellie, fem!reader, ellie being sooo desperate for u she cant help herself, seriously the girl is pathetic, no use of Y/N or readers appearance

Part 1: HERE

DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE

WHY YOU SHOULDN'T BUY TLOU2

READ THIS

Faded red and purple.

Those are the colors Ellie is looking at currently while examining her neck in the mirror. She's looking at the hickey closely, touching and feeling it with her fingers, the colors of it not as vibrant as they were that Saturday night.

The night that Ellie remembers, oh so well. The night that has been on replay in her mind for the past week and a half, haunting her every second of the day. It plays like a movie, over and over, until she runs out of new details to remark. She flips the images of you like a book, mesmerized by the way your body felt on hers. She remembers your skin like she remembers a painting, so soft, so warm, so inviting.

She wishes for nothing more than to touch you like that again, but she can't.

Because you're going on another date tonight.

Ellie drops her hand from her neck and shuts her eyes, head dropping low. She looks at her hands, gripping the white marble of her bathroom sink until her own knuckles turned the same color.

Why can't she get over it, like she does with other girls? Why does it have to be so hard with you?

She knew she was fucked from the moment her eyes landed on you a year and some months ago, while attending Dinas party. The way you strutted in, all smiles and pearly whites, extending your pretty hand to greet hers. Dina had warned Ellie not to mess with you, for Ellie had 'ruined' a handful of friendships between Dina and her friends who couldn't help but fall for the brunette girl, even if it wasn't her intention.

Ellie at the time, scoffed at this, treating it like a joke, but she soon saw how unbelievably difficult it was to not look at you that way.

She swears that she tried so hard not to hang around you, avoiding you like the plague. Every time Dina or Jesse would invite her to come out she would make up some type of excuse that would rid her of her friends.

"Ellieee, pleaseee! We haven't seen you in so long! Don't be a party pooper or I'll come there and take your stash and smoke it all." Dina pleaded with a whiny voice on the phone for the 10th what time.

"Oh my god, okay, who's coming?" Ellie rolled her eyes at this, anticipating Dina's answer.

"Yes, Jesus, finally you're getting your ass out of that bed! Uh, it's gonna be me, Jesse, Tyler..." she continued on until Ellie heard your name fall from Dinas lips. Her breath hitched in her throat as her heart danced in her chest.

"D, wait! I'm sorry! I just remembered, I have a physics assignment for tomorrow. I... I swear I'll make it up to you! Also, I do other shit than lay in b-" Ellie had to think quick and uni assignments always worked for these type of situations.

"I can't believe you. You owe me big time, Williams! I better have three blunts rolled by tomorrow! Be ready, bitch." and with that Dina hung up the call while Ellie sighed out a shaky breath of relief.

That's how it always went back then, they would call and Ellie would say no, she can't, she's busy.

But she couldn't keep at it for too long, you were becoming incredibly close with Dina and Jesse and Ellie knew she had to face you eventually. So, she started going out, and every time, her heart would flutter when she saw you. Her excuses were long gone and gradually, she tried to make time to see you as much as possible. You were, of course, just as eager to see her, finding her incredibly cool and funny, not to mention good looking.

Pretty soon you were inseparable, and nowadays Ellie finds herself waiting for your texts about your weekly sleepovers or a game of pool at your local bar.

Ellie steps away from her sink, wiping her hands on her grey sweatpants. Her gaze once again falls on her puzzled expression. She tries not to think about your date tonight, but so far she's been failing miserably.

Fuck my life, she thinks.

She gets out of the bathroom and heads towards her couch, wanting nothing more than to put on a dinosaur movie and smoke away her feelings. She plops down on the cushions and searches for the missing TV remote. Out of the corner of her eye, Ellie sees her phone on the coffee table light up and your name and picture flash on the cracked screen. She nervously reaches over and clears her throat before answering the call.

"Uhm, yeah? What's up?" Ellie cringes at the sound of her raspy voice, these being the first words she had spoken today.

"Ellie! Where are you? I've called you, like, 5 times already. Are you home? I need help getting ready and my roommate brought her boyfriend over and, ugh, I just can't deal with that. Can I come over?" you ramble, obviously in a rush since it was already 5 PM and your date started at 8.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm home. Come over!" Ellie said rather enthusiastically, much to her dismay. She shuts her eyes in embarrassment.

"Great! You're a life saver, love you! Be there in 15." you say happily and end the call.

Love you!

The words you uttered so nonchalantly hung in the air while Ellie tried not to take them to heart. She puts the phone back on the table and looks around.

Fuck, she had to clean up the place at least.

Ellie frantically got up and started moving things around, putting them back in their designated places. Food delivery bags, sweets and cigarette butts were all over the place. When she was satisfied, she figured she should change into something... better smelling than she had on currently. Ellie hadn't left the house in, at least, 2 days, not having the energy to interact with people. She spent them catching up on homework and watching movies. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't because of your newfound crush, but that meant she would be lying to herself.

Ellie threw the shirt she had on into the hamper and put on a fresh band T. She changed her sweats into a pair of grey shorts and put on some citrusy deodorant, maybe even spraying some into the living room to freshen it up. She quickly brushed her teeth and messed with her hair.

By the time she was done, you were already knocking on her door. Ellie looked at herself in the mirror one last time before deciding that she looked decent enough and opening the door for you to come in.

As always, you give her a big, warm smile and throw your hands around her neck, giving her a hug. It took Ellie a second to respond but she returns your hug with a light squeeze.

"Hey, you." she rasped into your hair, inhaling your coconut shampoo.

"Hey, Els! Hope you don't mind me being here. You know how Alex gets when her boyfriend comes around, I just can't." you say while rolling your eyes. You kick off your shoes and scan the room, heading towards Ellies couch and putting down your big bag.

"Yeah, I get it. Like when Dina and Jesse can't keep their hands off each other. Yuck." Ellie laughs, moving to sit down next to you.

"Exactly!" you start shuffling through your blue duffle, pulling out some clothes and a big, glittery makeup bag. "Is it okay if I use your bathroom? I need to do my makeup perfectly and the lighting is so good there." you ask Ellie with pleading eyes and a smirk, which she simply couldn't say no to.

"Of course, you don't even have to ask." Ellie throws you a lazy smile.

"Thank you!" you tell her excitedly, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. You get up with all of your stuff and stride towards the bathroom.

Ellie feels her cheeks getting warmer and redder. She gets up and follows you, "So, uh, are you excited to see, uh... her?" she utters with a nervous laugh, already forgetting your dates name even if you reminded her a million times. She leans on the doorframe of the bathroom and crosses her muscly arms.

"Yeah, I am excited to see 'her'." you look at Ellie through the mirror and put up quotations marks, like you're mocking her obvious bad memory with names. She rolls her eyes. "Sorry I forgot her name, jeez."

I don't care what her name is, she wants to say.

"It's Sophia, for the 100th time. We're going out to this sushi place, I heard its really good! I also heard that its really fancy, so I really have to up my game." you laugh, putting your hair up and examining your face.

Ellies face contorts at this and she can't help but let out a scoff, "I thought you hated sushi? Fish in general? What the hell are you gonna eat?" she asks you with furrowed brows.

"I mean, yeah, its not my favorite but I can try it. Maybe this time it'll be good!" you try to sound enthousiastic, but Ellie was right, you've always hated fish and everyone knew that.

"Why is she taking you there if you can't eat anything on the menu? Did she even ask you what you like? Remember when we went to Jesses place and you tried that fried fish he cooked and threw up?" Ellie starts questioning you, her tone dripping with jealousy. She looks at your face in the mirror and manages to catch your worried eyes, just for a flash.

"Ellie, its fine. She insisted we go there, so I didn't complain. I'll try some and if I don't like it, I'll just get a drink. That's all. Now, let me do my makeup in peace, dummy!" you usher her out, getting slightly annoyed because she was right, but you still wanted to make it work with this girl so you didn't say anything when she suggested you go to this restaurant.

Ellie simply can't believe you're going out with someone who doesn't even know you that well. You're pretty vocal about your likes and dislikes, so either this Sophia isn't listening to you or she doesn't care.

The fuck does she have that I don't? I would treat you better.

With an annoyance in her step Ellie, once again, lays down on her coffee colored sofa and opens up TikTok, mindlessly scrolling while waiting for you to finish getting ready. After a while of watching dog videos and replying to Joel's unreadable texts and his wrong use emojis, Ellie decides that rolling a blunt for when you leave is a great idea. She definitely need to get her mind off of things.

After what seemed like an hour, you come out of the bathroom. Your hips sway as the black bodycon dress you picked hugs you in all the right places, your hair frames your face like its a masterpiece and the makeup you did enhances your features perfectly. Your hands are behind your back as you make your way to the living room.

"Els, need your help with something." you say shyly, while turning your rear side to the girl.

She looks up from the table and her eyes land on your bare back. Your black, lacy bra sticking out from underneath the dress. Her gaze widens and her breath stops for a second. She wonders if you have matching panties on.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Can't reach the zipper. Will you zip me up?" you giggle while trying to zip up the dress, but fail miserably instead.

Ellie swallows the lump that formed in her throat and gets up from the couch. "Y-yeah, of course." She says in a hushed voice.

You relax your shoulders as her own tense up. Her long fingers move towards the zipper that sits on the small of your back. One of her hands finds its way to the black zipper, while the other rests on your upper arm. Carefully, she picks up the small bead and starts moving it up you back.

You feel Ellies breath fan against you, her body heat radiating off of her. She's so close that she could see every damn freckle and baby hair on your neck, and that's precisely where she would plant a kiss right now if she could. The dip of your shoulders and collarbones were driving her crazy. She tried to drag the drop as slow as she could, just so she could stare at your curves longer.

One of the straps of your dress slip down, and Ellie picks it up and places it back. Her fingers graze your trap and it feels like fire. She sneakily caresses the spot before returning to her task.

"There, all, uh, all done." Ellie smooths down the dress slowly, picking off any lint that stuck to the soft fabric. She rests her hands on your hips, just for a second. Just to see what it feels like. You turn around with a smile and thank her. Ellie lets go of you and scratches her ear while her eyes linger on your body.

Don't be a creep, Ellie. Don't look at her chest. Don't.

You put your stuff back into the bag your brought over and take out the black open-toed heels you bought last week. Sitting down on Ellies sofa, you strap them on and get up to see how they feel. Ellies eyes never leave you.

"So, what do ya think? I look okay?" you question Ellie, swaying over to the body length mirror that hangs in the hallway. You do a turn and send Ellie a killer smile, like you're posing for a photo. Ellie thinks she's gonna explode.

"You look fucking- great, fuck. Of course you look good." Ellie shakes her head as if you asked her the most ridiculous question to exist. She leans back on the couch and observes you as you examine your face.

She imagines that you're getting ready for a date with her. Imagines giving you a kiss on the neck and planting her hands around your waist while you giggle at her and snap a photo of you two in the mirror.

"Okay, and what do you think 'bout this perfume?" now you were getting nervous, the time to leave for the date coming closer. You march over to her, heels clicking on the wooden floor. You lean down, pushing your neck into Ellies face so she could sniff you better.

You catch Ellie by surprise as she steadies herself. Her nose and lips nervously brush over your neck, just behind your ear. She takes a long inhale and closes her eyes, you signature scent filing up her senses. Your hair tickles her face.

"Smells good. As always." Ellie states quietly, not moving from the warmth of your neck. She wishes she could stay there.

"Thanks, Williams. I have to go, I'm gonna be late. So, uh, I'll let you know how the date went! You have my location if anything happens, yeah? Lock the door behind me." you put on your coat and bag and strut to the door.

"Wait, she's not picking you up?" Ellie hurriedly follows behind you. The fuck?

"Uh, no. Something's up with her car or... I don't know. I'm just gonna walk!" you say, not looking forward to the death of your feet.

"Jesus," she mutters "do you want me to drive you? It's cool." Ellies already picking up her car keys but you stop her.

You put your hand on her bicep, giving her a reassuring squeeze "Ellie, it's fine. I don't mind walking! I love walking, in fact! Don't stay up late, okay? Bye, Els!" you retort, you don't want to be a bother. Besides, walking is healthy. At least you'll get your steps in and the restaurant is 15 minutes away.

Ellie rolls her eyes, but she can't even say a comeback since you're already clacking away. She almost forgets to lock the door.

She drags her feet back to where she was sitting and finishes rolling her joint, the TV in the background playing a random movie. Ellie lights up the spliff and leans back, putting her feet up on the living room table. Finally she can relax and turn her mind off.

The clock showed 12 AM and Ellie was fast asleep right where she sat. The spliff she smoked turned into ash and the movie she was watching ended a long time ago. The sound of her phone ringing jolted her awake, the ring tone she put specifically for you blaring loudly.

She quickly picks up the phone "Hey? Is everything okay?" Ellie muttered, still half asleep with closed lids.

"Hey, um, Ellie? Can I come over?" you slur your words slightly. Are you drunk? You sounded rushed and winded.

"Of course, angel, where are you? Should I pick you up? Are you okay?" Ellie asks in a panic, now wide awake. She didn't even notice the way her nickname for you slipped out.

"Yeah, everything's fine, just need to, uh, see you." you sniffle "I'm gonna be up in a sec." you tell her and hang up the call.

Ellie rushes to the door to unlock it and sees your fallen face. She stands to the side and lets you in as you take off your heels and fall face first into the cream cushions.

"What happened?" Ellie asks as she sits down next to you, placing a careful hand on your back.

"Nothing, I just... It was so weird. Everything was okay at first, we were drinking and laughing, and then we went back to her place and she was acting strange and kinda like an asshole, so I left. The sushi was shit, by the way." you chuckle, wiping the one tear that slipped from your eye.

Ellie had a concerned look on her face as she opened up her arms, inviting you for a hug. "Come here." You place your head on her warm chest and close your eyes, humming contently. "I didn't know where to go and you were so close, so yeah. Sorry if I woke you up, though." you whisper into her.

"It's okay, just glad that you're okay. Wanna take a shower? You can sleep here if you want." Ellie smiles at you while wiping smudged mascara from your cheek. Your painted lips tug into a smile and Ellie wonders how that shade of pink would look on her.

"Yes, please." you mutter softly and let go of her body.

Ellie gets up and swiftly makes her way to her bedroom. She rummages through her messy closet until she finds a pair of grey boxers, some socks, a t-shirt and a towel. Jesus Christ, I need to clean more often.

"Here you go." she hands you the clean clothes.

"Thanks, Els. I don't know what I would do without you." you smile at her hazily, your eyes having this sort of gloss over them, like the one Ellie saw that night. You make your way to the bathroom and close the door. She hears the water turn on and the sound of the shower curtains rustling.

Don't imagine her naked, you idiot.

Ellie lets out a sigh she didn't know she was holding as she settles into the daybed comfortably.

You finish your shower and plop down next to Ellie. The smell of her pine-like shampoo fills her nose. The thought of you showering with her stuff and using her towel and sleeping in her clothes makes her head dizzy with the sheer domesticity she so badly yearns for.

Ellies sprawled out in a laying position, one hand under her head while the other plays around with the TV remote. You wrap your arms around Ellies tattooed one, leaning your head on her shoulder. One of your legs rests on top of hers, hiking up your her boxers in the process.

Fuck.

Ellie can't help but gaze down at your body, the way her bottoms hug your thighs and how her shirt looks so fucking good on you. To say that you look hot would be an understatement. She knew she looked stiff as fuck but she didn't dare move a muscle. Ellie feared that even a slight movement would cause you to detach from her, so she stayed still.

"You okay, El?" you ask as you notice the change in her demeaner, shifting your stare to the side of her face. Even though the only light was coming from the TV, you could still se the slight nervousness that was present on the girls face.

Ellie snaps her head towards you and clears her throat "What? Yeah, angel. I'm fine, sorry. Just watching the show." she sends a smile your way as her eyes focus on the TV, your own burning a hole in the side of Ellies neck.

She puts a daring tattooed hand atop your thigh in a reassuring matter. You hum against her and turn your attention back to the documentary that was playing.

Ellies feels her heart palpate and she wonders how far the nearest hospital is from her apartment.

You lay like that for a while, comfort and warmth surrounding your tangled bodies. You didn't move and Ellie took that as a sign that her clammy hand on your thigh didn't present itself as a problem.

Ellie thought she was dreaming.

Out of nowhere you let out a chuckle, obviously remembering something funny. "What is it?" Ellie asks you.

"Nothing I just- nothing, doesn't matter." a giggle escapes your lips as you nuzzle closer to Ellies body.

"Weirdo." Ellie jokes with a squeeze to your leg.

After a 2 minute silence, you whisper something that sends Ellie into orbit "I didn't even come..."

What the fuck?

Did she heart that right?

Ellies body hardens as she questions. "Come- come where?" the embarrassing ask leaves her mouth before she can even think about what you meant. You laugh at her confused tone.

"No, Els, I mean, like, I didn't even come when I was with her." you hide your face in your palm and whisper the 'come' part, suddenly feeling embarrassed that you even admitted something like this to your friend. Ellie understands.

Oh my god.

The brunette thinks she might just die right here. You almost never talk about sex. I mean, here and there of course, but never intimately like this. You both knew more about Dinas and Jesses sex like than yours, everything you found out against your will. Ellie didn't even know if she wanted to hear about your love endeavours, she didn't know if she could handle the sheer thought of someone else's naming dripping from your lips in that way.

But this, this intrigued her as she continued to ask.

"What do you mean?" Ellie tries not to prod to much, still acting dumb.

"I mean, we were going at it but after she was done, that was it. She left me high and dry. She didn't even give me aftercare, she just went on her phone." you laugh feeling more comfortable to tell the story "That's why I left. I felt embarrassed."

This fucking bitch. she thinks about the girl. She couldn't comprehend what you were telling her. Someone was having sex with you? And you didn't finish? That wasn't their priority?

Ellie can't help but let out a scoff as her mouth hangs open with disbelief.

I would never fucking do that.

"Do what?" you question her, giving her a puzzled look.

Shit, did she say that out loud?

"I- I mean, I would never just leave a girl hanging like that. Making a girl finish is sometimes better than sex itself, shit." Ellie lets out a mocking laugh, the weed that still buzzed in her giving her confidence. This made your stomach swirl in a way that was all to familiar, the thought of Ellie in compromising positions.

"Don't feel embarrassed, she's a fucking idiot. Doesn't deserve you." her grip on your thigh hardens and you would be lying if you said that it didn't have any effect on you. Ellie wasn't the only one still drunk on substances, the alcohol you had earlier still present in your body.

"Yeah, you're right." you mutter out, hiking your leg upwards, your knee nearing Ellies crotch. This doesn't go unnoticed by the brunette.

"Of course I fucking am." she says like its fact, her eyes darting between your knee and the TV.

The comforting silence returns and soon enough Ellie puts on a TV show you both love, but you couldn't focus on anything but her body underneath yours. Its not like you didn't think about Ellie. Of course you did. Every fucking gay girl with eyes saw how attractive Ellie was. Her eyes, her crooked smile and that fucking tattoo that adorned her forearm were enough to make a girls knees weak. Dina had subtly mentioned how Ellie was a bit of a player, so you didn't wanna indulge in her games. As you grew closer to her, you saw how sweet she actually was. Yeah, she could be an ass sometimes, but that was just Ellie. You saw right through her hard exterior and discovered her nerdy and warm side. Still, you didn't want to compromise your friendship with her or Dina, so you just moved on.

You move your head to rest in the crook of Ellies neck, feeling her pulse quicken at the action. Racy thoughts were swirling in your head and your tongue was faster than your tipsy brain.

"Now I'm all pent up." the whisper came out so hushed that even Ellie barely heard it.

The air shifts and Ellie nearly looses her mind. You could cut the tension with a knife. What the fuck were you doing? Surely this isn't something innocent. Suddenly she could feel every inch of your body on hers, a cold sweat running down her insides.

What the fuck does she do now?

Shit.

"Y-yeah?" she whispers even quieter then you, testing the waters. Fuck it, she thought. She could feel the warmth of your centre radiating on her thigh and that was enough for her. With her gaze still on the screen, Ellie moves her hand up your thigh slowly, landing near the bottom of your cotton boxers. She takes the hem between her fingers and plays with it. Maybe this seemed like a bold move, but her insides were doing fucking backflips. She patiently waited for your next move.

"Yeah, got all worked up..." you rasp out, craning your neck to the side and lightly brushing your lips on the red mark you left some days ago. You unhook your leg from Ellies waist and turn to lay on your back, still clinging to her right arm. Ellies hand slips from your ass and lands on the inner part of your leg. Nobody speaks a word.

Ellie thinks she might pass out.

Her fingers draw deliberate circles on your skin, still unsure of her movements. Slowly but surely, they dance up your leg and land again on the hem of your shorts. Ellies eyes are wide with blown out pupils, her breaths come out ragged and short. She can't keep her eyes off of you. Her digits linger for a moment or two, before her pinky grazes your sweet spot. The thing she yearns for. You let out a quick sigh of relief as you both come to an understanding of what's about to happen, but neither of you verbally confirm it. No words need to be said.

Your grip on her arm tightens, silently signaling for her to continue what she was doing. She moves her pinky up and down and if she moved just an inch, she would be right where you needed her.

Ellie decides that she would be taking her sweet ass time. She'd been waiting too long for this to be over in a matter of minutes. She finally feels like she's in control. Her bangs stick to her forehead, her brows are furrowed and they way she's biting her lip will definitely leave a mark. She couldn't see your face, but she imagines its mimicking hers.

You buck your hips up, just a tad, just to let her know its safe to go further. Ellie moves your leg with hers slowly as she opens up your thighs. She so badly wishes to see the view below, so sure that the cotton boxers were a darker shade of grey in the middle. Her throat is dry at the mere thought of your slick.

Ellie moves her hand to cup your cunt, the pads of her digits pressing against your hole lightly. She was right, you were wet.

You were wet for her.

The words keep repeating in her mind.

It takes everything in her not to flip you around and fill you up with her strap, but she can't. Not yet. Not now. Another time if her stars are lucky.

You let out a low moan that you were holding on to while digging your nails into Ellies bicep. Ellies tattooed hand moves up, her fingers tracing your bud with a light pressure, enough to elicit another groan out of you. Ellie groans quietly just at the sight of her hand on your pussy. Her pressure on your clit hardens and she moves her fingers faster. You instinctively open your legs more, giving her better access to play with you.

She halts her movements and you almost whine at the loss of her touch. She slowly lifts up the band of your boxers and slips her hand in. She doesn't know why but she's surprised at the loss of your panties underneath the shorts. Ellie remembers seeing the lace adorning your back just a couple of hours ago and wondering what you were wearing down below. Its a good surprise nonetheless.

You arch your back at the sudden contact of Ellies cold digits on your puffy clit. She circles it again before moving down to gather your slick on her fingers, returning them to your bud.

"E-Ellie..." her name falling from your lips in the most beautiful way Ellie has ever heard and she thinks she could come just from that. Your bury your face in her neck and she feels your every breath.

"Yeah, baby?" she rasps out, continuing to roll your clit around in hard but slow movements. You kiss her neck a bit harder this time, leaving wet trails all the way up to her jaw. Her smell is intoxicating to you. You need more.

"Need more, El." you mutter out shyly. It was embarrassing how quickly you soaked your panties for her. You didn't know that Ellies were even worse than yours.

She dips her head down and catches your lips with hers in a slow kiss. Ellie thinks she's on top of the world.

The touch was electric and Ellie felt as if you were the missing piece to her puzzle. You let go of her arms as you straddle her waist, tangling your hands behind her neck and in her hair. Ellie lets out a groan at the tug of her locks as her hands come up to rest on your ass. She kisses you with so much want and so much need, she doesn't even stop for a quick breath. You both slow down as her hand once again finds your wet centre and you can't help but let out a moan into Ellies mouth. She rubs you through your boxers, teasing you again.

"El, please..." you plead with her, you can't take it anymore. Your head falls into the crook of her neck as you leave another hickey next to the old one.

Ellie feels like a god when she hears her name fall from your mouth, so sickly sweet, so desperate, just for her.

"What do you want, baby? Hm? Tell me." she's not even that much of a dirty talker, but she needs to hear you say it. Needs to hear you say how badly you want her. The craving for you growing stronger.

"Anything. Do whatever you want." the words you say come out in a moan as you grind down on her rough palm.

In a swift motion she flips you over to lay on your back. Your legs wrap around her waist as she pulls up your chin for a deep kiss. Both of you are a moaning mess at this point. The pillows on her couch were thrown somewhere on the floor, the TV long forgotten. Ellie pulls her shirt above her head and you almost salivate at the sight of her abs, her Calvin Kleins peeking out from her shorts. Her messy auburn hair and bitten lips leave you wanting more. You pull her in by her sports bra to continue the kiss. Her fingers toy with the bottom of your shirt as she lifts it up above your tits, the cold air nipping at your exposed skin.

She kisses down your body, starting from your neck down to your clavicle. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this." Ellies words sound breathless as she kneads your tits in her hands, running her fingers over your hardened nipples. She kisses them slowly, making sure to leave a few of her marks.

Ellie can't wait any longer, the need to taste you overcomes her completely.

She gets on her knees in front of the couch and settles between your soft thighs, kissing and biting them delicately. Her long digits drag over your tits all the way to your knees. "Can I taste you? Please?" and Ellie didn't even have to ask by the looks of you.

Ellie wishes she could take a picture right now. Your cute face is all blushy, bitten lips waiting for a moan to slip out. Your hair spills around you like you're a work of art. God, don't even get her started on how your perfect body looks under hers.

And who are you to deny her? Her whiny tone and big eyes are enough to send you over the edge.

"Yes, Ellie. Hurry up. Please." you sound just as pathetic as her.

Ellie eyes your heat, pressing a teasing finger right on your wet clit. She bunches up the boxers and slips her hand underneath, touching you with her cold knuckles and dragging them down your slit slowly. The reaction that this elicits from you makes her roll her eyes to the back of her head. She carefully but quickly takes off the cotton material and throws it behind her.

"Jesus, you're so fucking wet." and it feels so pathetic, how wet you got just from a few touches. You don't even wanna know how fast you'll come if she keeps this up.

Ellie finally bows her head down and licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, making you buck your hips to her mouth from the action. She shuts her eyes and groans from your taste. Tastes so fucking sweet. She thinks she could live off of you alone. She continues gathering your slick on her tongue as she circles your clit, pulling you closer by your thighs. Her moans mix with your own and you don't think you could hold on any longer.

"E-Els, oh my god. Keep, fuck, keep going!" you croak out while arching your back, pushing into Ellies tongue.

"Hold on, baby. Don't come yet. Just a little longer. Shit, you taste so fucking good." Ellie grumbles between your folds, nose bumping into your bud as she nuzzles deeper. Her chin is covered in your wetness, dripping down the couch.

Her right hand unwraps from your thigh and reaches down into her own shorts. Ellie can't help it, her own slick pooling in her underwear. The thought of her face in your cunt making her go crazy. She speeds up her tongue while she simultaneously rubs her own clit. She doesn't even bother to take off her boxers.

"Tell me when you're close, angel. Okay?" the sound of her voice sending vibrations to your body. You nod frantically, too pent up to even use your words. All you can focus on is her heaven-sent tongue that's working on you.

However, you do notice her sneaky hand in her boxers, and the sight alone makes the tight coil in your stomach snap. Ellie's lapping at you like you're her last meal in the world while her wrist is working on her own clit. The sight is pitiful one, how she's about to come just from eating a girl out. Not just any girl. Her girl.

"Ellie, I'm close, fuck, 'm gonna- gonna come!" you whine with your hands tightly tangled in Ellie's hair. "Yeah, fu- you gonna come for m-me?" and as she utters those words and as her pace is just right, both of you finish at the same time, hot flashes running through your bodies. Ellie's hand and mouth are still not letting up as she works trough your orgasms.

She slows down and takes her hand out of her shorts and lazily wraps it around your thigh. "El- stop, stop, stop, can't take, fuck- can't take anymore." you hum out, your hand wiping the beads of sweat from your forehead. Ellie groans in reply, so pussy drunk on your taste that she just can't bring herself to let up. "Ellie! Please..." you push her head away, feeling overstimulated.

"Okay okay, sorry angel." her mouth detaches from your bud with a pop and she continues placing small licks on your hole, cleaning you up. She finishes with a few kisses placed on your clit and inner thighs.

Ellie quickly gets up with wobbly legs and goes to the bathroom to get a fresh towel to clean up the scene that just unfolded. As she looks at herself in the mirror, she sees your shinny slick dripping down her chin and she can't help but smirk at the sight.

She makes her way towards you and now she really wishes she had a fucking camera somewhere here, because even the greatest renaissance painters couldn't have painted a better portrait. You turn your head to look at Ellie with you shirt sitting under your chin, your bottom half completely naked and as the cherry on top, your perfect smile and hazy eyes looking right at her.

She blushes as she sits down next you, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Hey, brought you a clean rag." she says, suddenly feeling very shy under your piercing gaze. "Thanks, babe." you tell her before pulling her down by her bra for a sweet kiss. Ellie immediately melts into you as you taste yourself on her lips. Her heart flutters at the word babe.

"Was, uh, was that good?" her pleading eyes look into your own as she questions you quietly. "Ellie, you're joking, right?" you giggle as you run your fingers through her auburn locks. She turns away from your gaze while a deep blush creeps onto her cheeks.

"Hey," you turn her head towards yours "I don't think I ever came that fast in my life." your blown out pupils meet her own and Ellie's stomach dances at your words.

You pick up her right hand, still looking deep into her eyes. A playful and dangerous look enhancing your stare. You bring up her fingers to your lips, parting them just enough for her digits to slip in, licking them clean from the girls come. Ellie sees white for a second. She pushes them in deeper, and now she can't help but imagine some other things she would do to you.

"Round 2?"

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