h

too pretty to ignore

summary: you’re bratty, you’re spoiled, you keep getting under ellie’s skin - and for the first time, ellie stops pretending she hates it.

cw: bbf!ellie, mean!ellie, brat!reader, spoiled!girly!reader, teasing, jealousy, car sex, fingering & oral (r!receiving), enemies to lovers kinda ???

a/n: please ignore how the sex positions make no sense i cba to actually make them realistic :))

word count: 2.9k

there’s something about nighttime in your house that feels too big, too silent, too echoey.

maybe it’s because you grew up in a place where sound was always happening; your brother shouting at his games, your parents taking calls, ellie existing in whatever room she felt like.

you’ve always hated quiet.

and tonight the quiet is loud.

your bare feet pad down the stairs, each wooden step creaking in a way that makes your nerves jump.

your tiny pj shorts ride up more with each step, the soft cotton tank top shifting as you tug it down, though it never really stays put. the fabric is thin, almost translucent in the dim light, clinging to the curve of your chest and hips.

the house is dim except for the warm golden lamp in the living room.

and there she is.

ellie’s sprawled on the couch like she’s part of it, one arm flung over the backrest, phone held loosely in her hand, thumb scrolling with bored precision.

her hoodie is baggy, her sweatpants loose, her posture lazy in that way only someone entirely at home could manage.

she’s wearing her usual scowl, a permanent fixture that seems to deepen whenever you enter the room.

she doesn’t even look up when you reach the bottom of the stairs.

typical.

you roll your eyes and head toward the kitchen, ignoring her on purpose, because engaging with ellie will only end in her making fun of you.

and right on schedule, as your foot crosses the threshold into the kitchen, ellie’s voice slices through the silence.

“seriously?”

you stop mid-step.

you turn your head just enough to glare at her over your shoulder.

ellie finally looks at you, slowly, deliberately, her eyes dragging down your body in a way that is not subtle, not polite, not appropriate for your brother’s best friend.

the green of her eyes is sharp, assessing, and you feel a sudden, unwelcome heat bloom across your skin under her intense gaze.

she smirks, curling the corner of her mouth. “you’re gonna catch a cold. or a lawsuit.”

you scoff. “it’s my house.”

“and those are barely clothes.”

you toss your hair, nose in the air. “i don’t need your opinions on my wardrobe.”

“good,” she says, eyes still on your legs, “because they’re not opinions. they’re facts. you look like you’re auditioning for a very specific kind of movie.”

you ignore the warmth that rises up your chest.

you ignore the fact that you suddenly feel very aware of your skin.

instead you shoot back, “shut up, ellie.”

she grins.

like she’s been waiting for that.

you head into the kitchen. open the cabinet. take out the snack you’ve been craving. all while pretending ellie isn’t in the next room practically vibrating with the need to tease you again.

after a minute you come back out, packet in hand, munching as you walk.

and then you do something stupid.

you sit on the arm of the couch.

next to her.

ellie stiffens like you’ve just violated the laws of physics.

her eyes flick up slowly - untrusting, amused, confused.

“okay,” she says. “what are you doing?”

“sitting.”

“why.”

you shrug. “i felt like it.”

“since when do you feel like sitting near me?”

you shrug again, shoving a snack into your mouth.

she watches you chew.

watches you wipe crumbs off your lip.

watches you not look at her.

like you’re trying so hard to seem casual that it’s almost painful.

she stares until you finally snap, “what?”

“nothing.” a beat. “just surprised. you usually can’t stand me.”

your jaw clenches. “i don’t- i never said- shut up.”

ellie smirks. “so you can stand me tonight?”

“oh my god,” you groan, covering your face with your hands. “i- can you just- can you not be like this for five minutes?”

“no,” ellie says immediately.

you groan again.

she looks way too entertained.

after a long moment of her pretending to focus on her phone, she suddenly gets up, pockets her keys, and stretches her arms behind her head in a slow, annoyingly attractive motion.

the movement pulls the fabric of her hoodie tight across her chest, revealing the subtle definition of her shoulders.

“i’m heading out.”

your head snaps toward her. “what? why?”

“gotta pick up some weed.”

“now?”

“my plug’s only free for a bit.” she moves toward the door. “tell josh i’ll be back.”

something sharp cuts through your chest.

you hate the silence in this house.

you hate how empty it is.

you hate the way shadows pool in corners and how you’re stuck with your thoughts.

“wait- don’t go,” you blurt.

ellie freezes mid-step.

then slowly turns around.

“come again?”

you look away, cheeks hot. “just… don’t go yet.”

“are you asking me to stay?”

“don’t make a thing out of it.”

“you literally never want me here.”

“ellie.”

she stares.

hard.

like you’re some puzzle she’s trying to solve.

“…are you okay?”

you make a strangled noise. “yes! i’m fine.”

“then why are you being-” she gestures vaguely at you, “-friendly?”

you snap, “i watched something scary, okay?”

ellie brightens like it’s her birthday.

“oh, this is gonna be good.”

you glare. “i swear-”

“what was it?” she interrupts, leaning against the wall. “scream? hereditary? oh let me guess- you watched a youtube video and someone mentioned demons-”

“creep,” you snap.

ellie freezes.

then:

“…the peachfuzz one?”

you nod reluctantly.

she blinks.

she blinks again.

and then she absolutely breaks.

ellie bends over, laughing so hard she nearly slips. clutching her stomach. wheezing. tears forming.

“ohmygod- you’re-you’re scared of peachfuzz-”

“ellie, i swear to god-”

“the dancing wolf man.”

“shut UP!”

she’s dying.

you’re dying inside.

when she finally catches her breath, she wipes her eyes and looks at you with a grin that could melt glaciers.

“you are such a fucking brat.”

“and you’re annoying.”

“cute,” she corrects.

you blink.

she seems to realise what she said and quickly looks away.

then clears her throat. “so that’s why you want me to stay? you’re scared?”

you fold your arms. “i’m not scared.”

“you literally are.”

“i just- don’t want to be alone.”

“same thing.”

you throw a pillow at her.

she catches it effortlessly.

then smirks.

“i still gotta go,” she says casually. “unless you want to come with?”

your breath stutters.

“i- yes.”

she raises both brows. “you serious?”

“i’m not staying here alone.”

“then go change.”

you stand. “i’m already dressed.”

ellie stares at your tiny outfit again.

longer this time.

you don’t miss the swallowed breath.

“…you’re gonna be cold,” she mutters.

“i’ll be fine.”

“you won’t.”

“ellie, i’m not changing.”

she curses under her breath.

“fine,” she grumbles. “let’s go.”

her car is cluttered but comfortable, hoodies, empty water bottles, a crumpled notebook full of half-finished sketches.

the air smells faintly of old leather and something metallic, like the garage where she works.

she starts the engine and immediately, tyler the creator fills the space.

you wrinkle your nose.

“ugh. you’re such a typical masc lesbian.”

ellie almost slams the brakes. “excuse me?”

“tyler is masc lesbian god,” you say, reaching for her phone. “i’m not listening to this.”

“don’t touch my phone.”

“give me aux.”

“absolutely not. your music taste is-”

you pout.

ellie glances at you.

and folds instantly.

“fuck. fine. here.” she shoves her phone at you. “but if you play some princess-pop bullshit-”

you play sabrina carpenter.

she groans loudly, but her fingers tap the steering wheel in time with the beat.

you smirk out the window.

as soon as you step out at the meet-up spot, you gasp dramatically. the cold air hits your bare legs and the thin fabric of your tank top like a physical shock.

“ellie. it’s freezing.”

“no shit.”

“why didn’t you tell me?”

she stares at you.

slowly raises one eyebrow.

“i did.”

you shiver aggressively, hugging yourself.

“ellieeee.”

she sighs so hard it shakes her shoulders, rummages through the backseat, and throws one of her hoodies at your face. it’s a dark grey, thick cotton, clearly well-worn.

“put that on.”

“i don’t want-”

“put it on before you turn into an icicle and i have to explain to josh why i let his sister freeze to death.”

you slip it on.

it smells exactly like her. warm, piney, like weed and cheap cologne and something soft beneath it all, maybe just the scent of her skin.

you tug it closer without thinking, burying your nose in the collar.

ellie notices.

but she doesn’t comment.

ellie’s plug, devon, is leaning against a beat-up car under a flickering streetlight.

the moment he sees you, he grins wide.

“well damn, ellie. you didn’t tell me you were bringing a pretty girl.”

ellie stiffens beside you.

you smile politely. “hi.”

“what’s your name, beautiful? you look like you need someone to keep you warm.”

ellie steps between you before you can answer.

“doesn’t matter.”

devon laughs. “why not? she’s pretty.”

you feel heat creep up your neck.

ellie’s jaw flexes.

then:

she puts her hand around your waist.

not gently.

not politely.

possessively. her fingers dig slightly into your hip bone, a silent warning.

“she’s. with. me.”

your brain shorts.

devon lifts his hands. “alright, alright. chill. i get it. possessive much, williams?”

ellie doesn’t chill.

not until the exchange is over, the money swapped, the weed tucked into ellie’s pocket, and devon finally turns away.

only then does she drop her hand.

your waist feels cold without it.

you both sit in the car again.

silent.

ellie’s staring straight ahead, jaw tight.

you watch her in the reflection of the windshield.

she looks… tense. annoyed. like she wants to punch something. or scream.

you swallow.

“ellie?”

she inhales sharply. “don’t.”

“don’t what?”

“don’t start.”

“i didn’t say anything.”

“you’re staring.”

“you’re being weird.”

“i’m not being weird.”

you turn fully toward her.

“why did you do that?”

“do what.”

“you know what.”

ellie doesn’t respond.

“ellie.”

nothing.

“why didn’t you like devon flirting with me?”

her hand tightens on the steering wheel. “because i didn’t.”

“why.”

“because i didn’t.”

“that’s not an answer.”

she exhales through her nose, frustrated. “drop it.”

“no.”

she finally turns her head.

her eyes are bright in the dim.

sharp.

dangerous.

“…you really want to know?” she asks quietly.

you nod.

ellie looks away.

jaw clenched.

then, finally:

“because i like you.”

you stop breathing.

“no you don’t.”

“yes. i do.”

“you’re-but you’re mean to me.”

“i know.”

“why?”

ellie shrugs.

“it’s fun pissing you off.”

you shove her shoulder. “you’re stupid.”

“yeah.”

she still won’t look at you.

you stare at her.

the freckles on her cheekbones.

the curve of her lips.

the tension in her jaw.

she’s trying so hard to look indifferent.

so, so hard.

“ellie,” you whisper.

she finally looks at you.

and everything collapses.

you lean in.

she meets you halfway.

the kiss lands hot, messy, breathless, years of tension snapping at once. her mouth is soft, yet demanding, her lips parting instantly against yours. the taste of mint and something uniquely ellie is intoxicating.

ellie groans, a low, desperate sound that vibrates deep in her chest.

her hands fly to your waist, gripping the fabric of the hoodie and pulling you forward with surprising strength.

your fingers tangle in her short, soft hair, tugging gently, eliciting another needy sound from her throat.

you climb over the console, straddling her seat, her thighs, her hips. the gear shift digs uncomfortably into your thigh, but you barely notice.

you’re pressed against her, the heat of her body a shocking contrast to the cold air outside.

she breaks the kiss only to trail a line of open-mouthed kisses down your neck, her teeth nipping playfully at the sensitive skin just below your ear.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that,” she mutters against your skin, her breath hot and ragged.

your fingers yank lightly at her hair in response, a silent plea for more.

her grip tightens on your hips, pulling you flush against her sweatpants.

the windows fog instantly, obscuring the view of the empty parking lot. the air burns with the scent of your combined arousal.

her mouth presses to your jaw, then her lips find yours again, harder this time, more urgent.

her hands travel lower, pushing the hoodie up and over your head, tossing it into the back seat. she rips your thin tank top off next, exposing your chest to the cool air of the car.

“fuck,” she breathes, her eyes dark as they rake over your exposed skin.

she doesn’t waste time. her mouth descends, claiming your collarbone, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise, a dark, possessive mark.

she moves lower, her tongue tracing the curve of your breast, before she sucks the sensitive skin just above your nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp from you.

you’re a mess of gasps and whimpers, your head thrown back against the headrest.

she reaches for the waistband of your tiny pyjama shorts with one hand, never breaking the trail of kisses she’s leaving on your stomach.

she slides them down your hips, slowly, deliberately, until they join the pile of clothes in the back.

you are completely bare, straddling her lap, your wet heat pressing against the soft cotton of her sweatpants.

ellie looks up at you, her eyes blazing. “i’m not waiting for the back seat.”

she pushes you back against the door, her hand sliding between your legs. her fingers are rough, calloused from the garage, and they feel incredible against your slick, sensitive skin.

she finds your clit instantly, rubbing it with a firm, insistent pressure. you cry out, the sound muffled by the close confines of the car.

“shh,” she whispers, her voice a low growl, her mouth returning to your neck to bite down gently. “don’t wake the neighbours.”

she slides two fingers inside you, slick with your own wetness, stretching you open. she starts a slow, deep rhythm, her thumb never leaving your clit.

you’re bucking against her hand, your hips thrusting forward, desperate for more.

“ellie, please,” you beg, your voice thick with need.

she pulls her hand away, just for a second, and you whine in protest.

“i want to taste you,” she says, her voice husky.

she shifts, pulling your hips forward until you’re positioned perfectly. she lowers her head, her tongue replacing her fingers, a hot, wet shock that makes your entire body seize up.

she’s thorough, precise, and utterly relentless. she laps at you, swirls her tongue around your clit, then sucks hard, pulling you deep into her mouth.

you’re a mess of gasps and moans, your hands gripping the headrest, your fingers digging into the leather.

just as you feel the first tremors of an orgasm building, the silence of the car is shattered by the shrill ring of ellie’s phone.

she pulls back, her face wet, a string of saliva connecting your pussy to her chin. she looks at the caller id: josh.

“i have to answer it,” she whispers, her voice rough.

“no! ellie, don’t!” you beg, grabbing her arm.

she ignores you, wiping her mouth quickly on her sleeve and hitting the answer button. she puts the phone on speaker, holding it awkwardly between her shoulder and her ear.

“yeah, what’s up, man?” she says, her voice surprisingly steady, though a little breathless.

“where are you? i’m almost home,” josh’s voice crackled through the speaker.

ellie’s eyes meet yours, a devilish glint in them. she reaches down, her fingers finding your wet, throbbing clit.

“oh, i’m just… out. running an errand,” she said casually, her fingers starting to rub you in slow, deliberate circles.

you gasp, biting your lip hard to keep quiet.

“cool, cool. hey, is my sister there? i told her i’d bring her back some of my girlfriend’s cookies,” josh asked.

ellie’s fingers were now working you with a focused intensity, and you could feel yourself getting closer again.

“your sister? nah, i haven’t seen her. she’s probably asleep,” ellie lied smoothly, her eyes locked on yours, watching the pleasure bloom on your face.

you couldn’t hold it in. a loud, involuntary moan escaped your throat.

ellie’s eyes widened slightly. she quickly slapped her free hand over your mouth, muffling the sound.

“what was that?” josh asked, sounding confused.

“what was what? oh, that was just… the radio. bad signal out here,” ellie said, her voice strained. she pressed her fingers harder against your clit, pushing you over the edge.

you were vibrating against her hand, your body convulsing in a silent, muffled orgasm. tears pricked your eyes from the intensity and the pressure of her hand over your mouth.

“oh. okay. well, i’ll see you in a bit then,” josh said.

“yeah. later, man.” ellie hung up the phone and immediately pulled her hand away from your mouth.

you gasped for air, your body still shuddering, completely spent.

ellie looked down at you, her face flushed, a triumphant, slightly manic grin on her face.

“i told you i’d ruin you,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “and i told you i’d make you scream my name. even if i had to muffle it.”

you were too exhausted to speak. you just wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her close.

“we need to go,” she said, her voice soft now, the mean girl facade completely gone. “josh is going to be home in ten minutes.”

she helped you pull your clothes back on, the silk shorts now damp and wrinkled. she drove you home in silence, sabrina still playing softly on the stereo.

FAKING IT! ༉‧₊˚

༉‧₊˚. synopsis ~ roommates. that's what you and ellie are, the only thing you've been for over two years. two painfully long years during which it was hard not to stare every time she would come out the bathroom after a shower with her hair damp and her clothes sticking to her skin, during which you spent your nights daydreaming her mouth on yours. but maybe something will change when for christmas you tell your really not liberal parents you're bringing home a boyfriend that's very much not a boyfriend and very much not your girlfriend either. yet.

༉‧₊˚. word count ~ 8.3k

༉‧₊˚. content warnings ~ roommate/fakegf!ellie x roommate!reader, swearing, pining (reader is kinda clueless and blind lol) homophobia (the it's just a phase kind), religious themes, slight blasphemy at some point, fake dating takes a turn, making bigots eat shit basically, slur (self-directed and not derogatory), minor use of y/n, SMUT, top!ellie, sub!reader, fingering (r!receiving), tribbing, pet names (angel, babe, baby), afab!reader, men and minors dni.

likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated ♡

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆.” — 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐀𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 — 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐎𝟑 — 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒

⚢ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆— Actress!Ellie x Actress!Reader

⊹ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒— you met in freshman year with stage lights warming your faces, puppy love blooming beneath velvet curtains and never quite fading. but now, at twenty-five, you became strangers draped in fame: you as Hollywood’s golden girl with a PR boyfriend, and Ellie as an Emmy winner with a model on her arm. yet when an old tape resurfaces, the past claws back into the spotlight. just as the world starts watching, you’re cast in a remake of the play where it all began. some stories don't need a script.

⊹ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓— 60,1k › I'll update as I go

⊹ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒— slow burn, eventual smut, angst, fluff, yearning, mutual pining, multiple references to literature, cinema and theatre, time jumps between past to present, ellie and reader as dramatic theatre kids, external homophobia, emotionally intense scenes, fame and its consequences, media scrutiny, mentions of mental health, alcohol and cigarettes, complicated family dynamics, OC’s, public scandals, story that spans over a decade.

updates every FRIDAY at 11:00 PM Argentina time (UTC -3). If I ever need to skip a week, I’ll let you know in advance!

YOU JUST GONNA KEEP STARING OR...? .˚ₓ

.˚ₓ synopsis ~ it wasn't exactly planned the way you and ellie met. it was more of an accident, one that led to a shirt stained of coffee and deep long conversations between study sessions and rolled joints. it would be so easy for the two of you to just admit that the way you look at each other is far from just friendly. easy, if ellie wasn't a total loser and you didn't enjoy too much seeing her struggle every time your shoulders brush against one another.

.˚ₓ word count ~ 6.2k

.˚ₓ content warnings ~ loser!ellie x reader, swearing, no use of y/n, pining, mentions of weed, SMUT, kinda subtop!ellie (i guess you could call it loser!ellie with a twist when she gets her shit together?), tiny tit play, fingering (r!receiving), oral sex (r!receiving), praise, pet names (baby, babe), kinda wrote in a rush literally in the notes app of my phone so definitely not proof read, afab!reader, men and minors dni.

likes, reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! ♡

coparenting with roommate!abby

coparenting with roommate!abby pt. 1

synopsis: happy birthday, abby! ˚₊‧꒰ა. .໒꒱ ‧₊˚

cw: modern au, pure fluff, not proofread

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀❝ we can meet in the middle — ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ body & souls collide, dance in the moonlight. ❞

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄.

wc/cw: 3.8k, slightly proofread, cussing, heartbreak, queerness ❤️‍🩹, reader is locked in and then locked out, ‘girlfriend, s!her’ prnouns used for reader, ellie is a douchebag but we knew that already, angst, mild sarcasm, literally crack, callie is here whoop whoop!!, mentions of touching.. iykyk, exes to ?? to ??, literally boring, lmk if i missed anything.

authors note: well yes! i did say i was gonna take a break from writing but why the fuck would i do that ??? rockstar!ellie is here let us lock in and be QUEER.

LISTEN TO “STATIC & STEEL” HERE !

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

Silence isn't a common theme in your life, and you preferred it that way.

Music has surrounded you since your early years, rhythm came like a second language, lyrics moving through your brain at all times.

When you were young you would parade around the house chanting covers of your favourite songs at all hours, belting and harmonizing till your throat gave out, or your mother pleaded you to Hush!

You continued this until you were doing it unconsciously, until your mother caved and purchased a second hand acoustic from the Salvation Army.

When you hit your mid teens, and the one who shall not be named came into the picture, you started taking music seriously. You started practicing more often, and joined the musical theatre program at your high school, you suddenly had a place, a home.

It was supposed to be an upward spiral from there, you were exactly where you wanted to be and had all your future plans laid out for you like a map; go here, and you’ll get this, then get here and you’ll be set. All you had to do was let time do its thing. Oh how naive you were.

Time is a crime, and tragedy waits for no one. Y mothers attitude flipped like a switch, telling you to pick something realistic to pursue, Nobody makes it out of Jackson, sweetheart she said. Then, as if life couldn’t get any more difficult, your relationship fell apart, taking your future plans with it. You could do nothing but cry. Cry and beg the universe for another chance. But that chance never came.

So, you settled.

you picked a major that would ensure you mediocrity and applied for a part time job, it was a shame really, to feel like such a failure. But what else could you do? Wallowing wouldn't change the outcome of your misfortunes, crying would do you no good, so you just kept living.

That all brought you here, Not quite LA but also not the quiet streets of Jackson hole. Boston is where you reside, the trees, they speak to you. and the skies often resemble a watercolour painting, it's good for your thoughts, good for your soul. It's not perfect, but not terrible. It's just…alive.

“Yo chickie!” A bubbly voice chases, footsteps approaching your room You know who it is before the door opens.

“Yeah?” You respond, looking up from your guitar. You quickly reach forward to shut the notebook that you were reading from, it’s too personal, too.. raw.

You had thought about bearing the burdens of your verse onto Callie, but opted out last minute, she didn't need to know that version of you, not yet.

“You’ll never believe this. Abby got tickets for this rock concert, you remember that right?” She rambles, you nod. The thought of your own words still weighing heavy on you, does she care about the truth?

“Yeah, I remember..” You had a sneaking suspicion that you knew what direction this was going in, and you weren’t sure how you felt about it.

“Okay so basically.. the chick she was going with, Nora, bailed on her and now she has no reason to go..” She continues, her lean frame balancing on the doorframe.

“Okay…So?” You retaliate, fingers begging to return to the neck of your instrument, begging to bleed for the purpose of sound. You don't mean to sound so bitchy, the words just fall that way. Callie knows better than to get offended.

“So?! So we inherited the tickets!” Your roommate beams, pushing herself off of the door and welcoming herself onto your bed.

She catches onto your vibe quite quickly, “I know it’s not your favourite genre, but it's a free concert.” You nod your head, she does have a point. You contemplate the opportunity, you hadn't been out in a while and you had made yourself a promise; make well with what you have.

“Maybe you can like.. read a book in the front row and get noticed by the girl playing.. apparently she's a hot lesbian.” She suggests, half joking, half not. You chuckle at the idea, nodding along to her chatter.

“Yeah… it sounds like a good idea.. I'll go—let's go.” You confirm, looking over at the brunette, the words spark confusion from your own mind, but it's too late to back out now.

Her brown eyes light up, body bouncing as she leaps over to hug you. Your eyes widen, hands reaching to salvage your guitar.

“Watch the guitar!” You chuckle, voice raising by just a few octaves.

“Sorry, sorry!” She grimaces, moving away to allow you to remove the instrument from between you.

“Oh my god, i’m so excited.. we're gonna be so hot.. I'm ready now, actually. Anyways.. I’m gonna leave you now, uhh—write hard? Play hard? I dunno..” She waves a hand, the end of her nonsensical chatter fading out as she enters the hallway.

Phew.

The days come and go, the concert being that last thing on your mind as you trudge through the week.

Callie presses you about your outfit a few times, pushing you to accompany her to the mall. You shake your head, promising that the show of an artist you didn't even listen to didn't require a brand new outfit.

You spend your days working and your nights studying. And when you can, you squeeze in some one on one time with your thoughts, sticker clad acoustic resting against your body.

Crazy how you think you know somebody,

every little freckle on their body.

It's crazy how we're strangers now.

Your humming is interrupted by your door opening rather aggressively, a robe covered, face mask wearing Callie appearing in your room within seconds.

“Jesus!” Your eyes widen, Callie chuckles at your less than enthusiastic response. She steps into the room without warning, welcoming herself into your closet.

“You gotta get ready! Close that damn songbook and get hot.” She reminds, flicking through the few articles of closing that she deemed to be concert appropriate.

“Ugh..” You whine, falling back words into your sheets. “That’s tonight?” Your voice grumbles, eyes closing as you bring a stressed hand to each side of your forehead.

“Yep! We need to glam you up. Stand.” She orders. You groan, propping yourself up onto your elbows.

Callie continues to dig through your closet, ripping through ear and every piece of fabric she comes across.

“Dont you dare pull out on me now… You're coming. Point blank.” She haggles, turning around and pointing a finger in your direction.

“Yes, yes.. I'm aware.. you’d probably skin me if I didn't." You laugh, hopping off the bed and dragging yourself to the bathroom.

“Damn right!” Callie laughs, remaining in the bedroom whilst you turn on the shower. You sigh as you shrug off your sweats, Callie’s booming voice pursues, echoing throughout the room.

“Hey, you don't still have that black tank top of mine, do you?” She asks, you can already hear her rummaging through the depths of your closet. You're about to reply when you hear the shuffling of boxes.

”What’s this box?” You freeze. You know exactly what box she's talking about, the one that contained every single polaroid, old songbook and love letter that you tried so hard to forget.

You quickly fling the door open, body barely covered by your undergarments. “Don’t!” You yell, Callie’s eyes widen.

“It's nothing..” You lurch forwards, shuffling the box back into the farthest part of your closet.

Callie raises an eyebrow at your erratic movements, slowly stepping back as you stagger through the wardrobe. You finally reach above yourself, snatching said black tank top off the shelf.

“Here…Sorry.” You smile sheepishly. She accepts the fabric, eyes following you as you speed walk back into the washroom.

The mirror is fogged, steam running down the walls. You shrug, discarding of your bra and underwear. You exhale deeply when the hot water welcomes you, the pure warmth running down the front of your body.

The faint hum of the playlist Callie begged for you to contribute to begins to echo throughout the two rooms. It's barely audible from the en suite, but you can make out the sound of her pitchy voice wavering in with whatever actual song was playing.

You hear her come in and out a few times during the duration of your shower, she tells you to hurry while you’re squeezing a glob of body wash into your palm, the bottle stutters, you’ll replace it eventually.

Callie pops her head in again as you’re finishing up your hair. You take note of her bare face, she’s always pushed for you guys to do your makeup together. She's a girls girl.

“Should we pregame?” She inquires, face sculpting a smirk that's not to be missed. You chuckle, shaking your head back and forth.

“It’s a concert not a house party! We are not pregaming..” You declare, fingers moving effortlessly through your hair. Callie scoffs, eyes rolling to the back of her head. You laugh once again, an instantaneous reaction.

“I’ll be done in a sec, then we can do our makeup and maybe take a shot.. maybe.” You give in, adding the finishing touches to your hair. Callie sticks her tongue out, ushering you out of the way to rinse her face.

“Wear black so we can match, I'm wearing my docs.” She confirms, voice stretching as she slathers herself with face wash. You nod, slipping behind her to enter your bedroom.

Her outfit and makeup bag are laid out on the bed. You huff, taking a few steps towards your closet. You're sure Callie’s oblivious to it, but the tension is too high for your liking.

You throw an old Christmas blanket over the top of the box. It‘s lazily strewn over the cardboard; hidden in plain sight. You swipe through your slew of fabrics, nothing particular catching your eye.

“Just wear—like…Here.” Callie interjects. She opts to search for you rather than verbalizing her response. She steps in front of you, you sneak your foot forward to kick your box-blanket contraption to the back of the closet.

You step back, letting Callie hunt for a top while you preoccupy yourself with your drawer of bottoms.

“What about this? She asks, a dark red cami draped from her fingers. You appreciate the clothing for a moment before nodding. You reach into your bottom drawer, pulling out a pair of black shorts. You nod, throwing the shorts onto the bed alongside Callie’s own outfit.

“Leather jacket?” She questions, reaching for the coat before you can even answer. You chuckle, slipping into your respective outfits

“We look hot.. pass me my makeup bag.” You pronounce, sticking your tongue out as you catch the kit. Callie nods in agreement, stretching a long mhm through her throat.

“Who are we even seeing?” You ask, dipping your hands into the contents of your tiny purse. Callie shrugs, blending the foundation on her face rather harshly.

“I don't even know, actually.. all i know is that it’s some rocker chick… Yea I dunno..” she replies, shaking her head as she reaches for her iPad.

“M’ switching the song.” She discloses as she taps the screen a few times. You chuckle, nodding as you reach for your next product.

This was a terrible idea, you decide. There’s people all over the place, your sweating buckets, and you swear everyone in the world is in this room.

You clutch your bag, weaving in and out of the crowd as Callie walks through the place like she's been there fifty times.

“I can’t believe we got pit tickets.. is Abby made of money?” She squeals, cold, manicured hand wrapping around your wrist as her shoulder checks some girl. Her spatial awareness was never that good..

you apologize to the girl as best you can, she nods, you exhale. “Yeah, I know!” You add, jogging up behind her. Your excitement was growing by the minute. Despite the tightness in your shoes and the knot in your back that you haven't been able to quite remove, you were in.. okay spirits.

“We gotta hurry, show starts at nine.” She clarifies, speeding up her movements. She ducks in and out of the crowd confidently, carelessly. The opener's music reverberates against the walls, it wasn't good music by any means, but you weren’t complaining.

Hey, watch it!, a gruff voice follows you, another man fallen victim to Callie’s confident strut. She shoots him a sharp glare, pulling you up to the front of the barrier. You try to glance back at the faceless dude, but he's now lost in the crowd.

“This is gonna be awesome. Trust me.” She gesticulates, her hair is pulled back into a slicked back high ponytail, black locks running down her back. You take note of her makeup, winged eyeliner sharp enough to cut, and a deep mauve lip. Your best friend was hot.

“Mhm! I’m excited now.” You lean against the railing. Callie bares her teeth, a pearly white smile flashing across her face. You chuckle at her reaction, pulling out your phone to snap a few photos.

The opener's last song quickly fades out into a low simmer of clapping. The music wasn't memorable, you thought you could make out something about abandonment, or was it unrequited love? You didn't care, you were just glad it was over.

The room darkens as you snap the last picture, a blurry shot of the stage before the main event arrives. You squirm in your spot, the leather of your coat sticking to your open skin while your feet throb in the weight of your shoes.

The screen goes completely black and the crowd erupts. People from all around you are jumping up and down and pushing the loudest yells from their chords. Your eyes widen, Callie latches her arm onto your bicep.

A girl beside you makes out something of a laugh and a scream when the first track starts to play. A spark of hope blooms in your chest when you realize the sound is somewhat familiar. You bop your head up and down, wracking your brain on where you’ve heard the song before — but nothing comes.

A bright light flashes in the middle of the stage, you make out the silhouette of a few instruments that occupy the back of the stage. Your eyes flicker to the unused red guitar standing in its place, waiting to be played.

a sudden sinking sensation appears in your chest, you could recognize that blood red body anywhere. A scratched up fender that had been picked out by your very own hands; a gift to her.

“Boston, Massachusetts!” A fried voice yells into a microphone. You catch a glimpse of her before the tears appear.

Ellie fucking Williams.

You aren't sure how, but your heart drops even lower. The crowd moves around you, the entire room screaming chants of her name. Ellie! Ellie! Ellie! You shiver, droplets threatening to fall from your eyes.

Callie’s fully immersed in the experience, chanting her name along with the other oblivious audience members. You bring your hands to your mouth, contemplating squeezing out of here and standing outside while Callie watches your ex girlfriend in all her glory.

Your knees buckle beneath you, the barricade being the only thing preventing you from hitting the ground.

“Hey! What the hell? Are you okay?” Callie calls out, slipping an arm underneath yours. She hoists you up off the barricade as Ellie's husky voice rumbles through the stadium.

The first song begins, and you almost pass out as the crowd starts jumping at the music. Her words echo, the lyrics all being ones that you helped her write.

“What’s going on—why are you crying?!” Her eyes widen, her hands settling on the top of your shoulders. You stumble over your words, your lip wobbling as you attempt to explain your situation.

That’s my ex-girlfriend of three years who I was madly in love with and still write songs about. Yeah, no.

You glance back at the stage, and Ellie’s eyes catch yours. You freeze. She looks away for a brief moment, and you can see the gears moving in her mind. When she looks back, her eyes are wider. Her lips slow against the microphone, words dying in her mouth.

“We have to go, Callie.. please—can we go?” You ramble, pulling her opposite of the stage. She doesn’t budge, searching the room for your source of discomfort. You continue to pull on her limbs, muttering a string of incoherent pleas.

The music slows to a stop, and you’re sure you’re about to die.

“Hold on, Hold on, Hold on..” She says into the mic, you can hear the smirk in her tone. You squeeze your eyes shut and just pray that this will be over soon. You slowly turn towards the stage, trying to remain as invisible as possible.

“I might be seeing this, but I think I see my ex in the crowd..” She chuckles, the crowd erupting into a chorus of “Ooo’s” you curse under your breath, and Callie’s eyes widen. She turns to you, her face contorting from confusion to one of surprise.

Callie points to the giant screen, both of your faces projected for everyone to see. The colour drains from you as Ellie points you out the crowd.

“No… that’s definitely my ex-girlfriend! Wow! Isn't that insane?” She chuckles, you look over to Jesse and Dina, one of them grimacing while the other's jaw is slack in shock.

She steps off the stage, walking right up to the barricade where you and your roommate stood. A few fan girls reach out for her, but she's fully immersed in the moment.

A plethora of phones turn to the pair of you, a few seconds go by before your stomach starts to eat itself from the inside. Your gut twists as she bites her lip, cocky as ever.

“Did you come all the way to Boston to see me? You know I'm playing a Jackson show right?” She snickers, pushing the microphone into your face. You see Callie’s face twist into disgust. Before you can mumble anything even slightly coherent into the microphone Ellie’s already asking you a follow up question.

“Was it cause’ you missed me?” You can't help but roll your eyes, Callie leans into the microphone,

“Arent you supposed to be playing music?” She asks rhetorically. Ellie rolls her eyes, licking her lips. You giggle at Callie’s protection, silently thanking god for her company.

“Yeah, Yeah..” She smirks, leaning over the fence even farther. At this point, shes in your face, taunting you.

“I mean, I dunno about you, but one of us is on the charts… how’s your music doin, babe?” She laughs, pulling away from the fence. She looks you up and down, shouting your name into the mic as an introduction.

She winks as she walks away, the camera zooming in on your embarrassed expression. She turns around again before climbing on the stage. “Infact, get up here.. let the crowd see how bad I ‘fumbled’.. C’mon!” She pushes, making air quotes as she jogs back over to you.

You shake your head no, the thought of being on stage beside her was your personal idea of hell. Your stomach twists as when she reaches for your hand. Quickly pulling your fingers out of her grasp.

“Fuck that. No way, Ellie.” You curse, the crowd's volume raises at your response. You roll your eyes.

Ellie juts her lip out in a faux pout, “Why not, I thought you missed me?” Her smirk is so beyond provoking that you seriously debate reaching forward and slapping her as hard as possible.

“Yeah, right. I totally missed this..” you scoff, reaching for your phone and your best friend. You open the Uber app, attempting to make your escape through the crowd of people.

You pull Callie, who's been cursing auburn headed rockstar under her breath the entire time, through the swamp of bodies. A few people reach out to grab you, clearly thinking you're some kind of celebrity yourself.

You tune out the rest of Ellie’s ridiculing comments, the pit in your stomach has grown too big to endure any more of that. Callie stomps out behind you, her ears pink with anger.

“What the fuck was that!” She yells into the dark, throwing her arms up in confusion. She turns to you, eyes wide as ever.

“Doesnt matter.. I'm just glad it’s over.” You gulp, the lump in your throat desperate to be acknowledged. Tears prick at your waterline, the embarrassment running hot through your body.

“It definitely matters because in about ten minutes your name is going to be viral on twitter. And that's being gracious.” You roll your eyes, nodding along to her words. You take a deep breath, Your ride has been booked !

“We dated… when we both lived in Jackson.. she left, threw dirt on my name and thought it would never catch up to her..” You scoffed, shifting your weight onto one of your legs. Callie nods, eyes widening as you reveal your biggest secret to you.

“So you like touched her and she touched you?” She snorts. Your scoff, pressing your feet into the pavement.

“I guess? Weird way to go about it but—”

“I knew I sensed some tension in there, she was feeling you, girl..” she interrupts, you slap your palm against your forehead. She's unable to continue her ridiculous tangent when the Ubers arrival cuts her off.

“Wait so—” she begins again, and you immediately hold a hand up.

“Callie, not right now… I physically cannot right now.” You sigh, sliding onto the leather seats of the Uber.

“Okay yeah… we’ll come back to that later.” She nods. And you thank god for the silence that fills the car from that point on.

Your head spins, part of you isn't even sure that just happened, you're sure that it's all in your head. You sniffle, moving to look out the window as the Uber moves through the city. Any other day you would’ve admired the city lights and the untouched greenery, but right now it just felt dull.

You were right back where you started.

Your guitar is waiting for you when you arrive home.

You don't wait for anything before slipping into your room, the door shuts with a soft click. The second the instrument lands in your arms, and your fingers are on the strings, you're at peace.

You don’t dare open your phone for the rest of the night, the mess of the real world would have to wait. the music comes easily, the lyrics drip like honey on a sore throat. You smile, strumming until the clock hits midnight and your worries suddenly seem so far away.

previous chapter • next chapter

⌞ TRACKLIST ⌝

Listen On Spotify !

ــــــــﮩ٨ـ Only Happy When It Rains

ــــــــﮩ٨ All Apologies

ــــــــﮩ٨ـ Petals

ــــــــﮩ٨ـ Across The Sea

ــــــــﮩ٨ـ To The Stage

ــــــــﮩ٨ـ Like a Stone

ــــــــﮩ٨ـ Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away)

ــــــــﮩ٨ـ Sextape

ــــــــﮩ٨ـ Somebody Told Me

ــــــــﮩ٨ـ Knee Socks

ــــــــﮩ٨ـ India Rubber

ــــــــﮩ٨ـ Just

50 mins, 12 tracks.

Is See U In Seattle dominating the rock industry? Donatello Bianchi says yes.

In a world where media literacy and conservatism are on the rise, See U In Seattle are loud, they're radical and they're queer. The band formed in the midst of crisis, with only a whopping three members, See U In Seattle have climbed the charts in ways we haven't seen in years.

The Record Static & Steel has stolen hearts and taken over radio stations. Jordan Haschack, host of radio show The Wolves, called the album “revolutionary” and “the come back of good music.” And we have to agree..

From breaking dishes to breaking records; a band who was made for fame

See U In Seattle originated with four key members, before moving down to three after a tragic scandal. Our main singer and freakishly gifted guitarist, Ellie Williams. Drum smashing, self proclaimed legend, Jesse Chang. And the sweetheart bassist herself, Dina Woodward. Contrary to popular belief, the band was formed in Los Angeles, California after the group of friends met in music school.

Although it seems like they're just getting started, the group has been making music for years, including Williams own solo records, Like You and Down For It? Are probably tunes that have made their way into your head in recent years.

“It’s not like I'm new, I'm just… growing slowly.” Lead guitarist confirms, "I'm not an industry plant, I'm too good to be one of them.”

A Continued Legacy

There’s absolutely no denial that rock isn't the same as it was, with many of our stars going down as history and the genre being deemed odd by the teens of today, the La-bred band might have changed minds.

Some have called it the best album since Ok Computer, and others have crowned it Album Of The Year. There's no denying the flavour in Steel & Static. While only 50 minutes long, the 12 track record dove into plenty of new material that the world might have needed.

“[…] I love that, really.. but we would be wrong for not crediting the hero’s before us… they dug the hole, we’re just making it deeper.” Woodward states.

With over 1.4M listeners, See U In Seattle has grown a fan base strong enough to seek out stadiums, and it’s happening. We are witnessing the comeback of rock music in real time, and it’s all because of three Gen-Z rockers.

Buy your tickets here; on sale for a limited time only.

wc/cw: 3.8k, slightly proofread, cussing, heartbreak, queerness ❤️‍🩹, reader is locked in and then locked out, ‘girlfriend, s!her’ prnouns used for reader, ellie is a douchebag but we knew that already, angst, mild sarcasm, literally crack, callie is here whoop whoop!!, mentions of touching.. iykyk, exes to ?? to ??, literally boring, lmk if i missed anything.

authors note: well yes! i did say i was gonna take a break from writing but why the fuck would i do that ??? rockstar!ellie is here let us lock in and be QUEER.

LISTEN TO “STATIC & STEEL” HERE !

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

Silence isn't a common theme in your life, and you preferred it that way.

Music has surrounded you since your early years, rhythm came like a second language, lyrics moving through your brain at all times.

When you were young you would parade around the house chanting covers of your favourite songs at all hours, belting and harmonizing till your throat gave out, or your mother pleaded you to Hush!

You continued this until you were doing it unconsciously, until your mother caved and purchased a second hand acoustic from the Salvation Army.

When you hit your mid teens, and the one who shall not be named came into the picture, you started taking music seriously. You started practicing more often, and joined the musical theatre program at your high school, you suddenly had a place, a home.

It was supposed to be an upward spiral from there, you were exactly where you wanted to be and had all your future plans laid out for you like a map; go here, and you’ll get this, then get here and you’ll be set. All you had to do was let time do its thing. Oh how naive you were.

Time is a crime, and tragedy waits for no one. Y mothers attitude flipped like a switch, telling you to pick something realistic to pursue, Nobody makes it out of Jackson, sweetheart she said. Then, as if life couldn’t get any more difficult, your relationship fell apart, taking your future plans with it. You could do nothing but cry. Cry and beg the universe for another chance. But that chance never came.

So, you settled.

you picked a major that would ensure you mediocrity and applied for a part time job, it was a shame really, to feel like such a failure. But what else could you do? Wallowing wouldn't change the outcome of your misfortunes, crying would do you no good, so you just kept living.

That all brought you here, Not quite LA but also not the quiet streets of Jackson hole. Boston is where you reside, the trees, they speak to you. and the skies often resemble a watercolour painting, it's good for your thoughts, good for your soul. It's not perfect, but not terrible. It's just…alive.

“Yo chickie!” A bubbly voice chases, footsteps approaching your room You know who it is before the door opens.

“Yeah?” You respond, looking up from your guitar. You quickly reach forward to shut the notebook that you were reading from, it’s too personal, too.. raw.

You had thought about bearing the burdens of your verse onto Callie, but opted out last minute, she didn't need to know that version of you, not yet.

“You’ll never believe this. Abby got tickets for this rock concert, you remember that right?” She rambles, you nod. The thought of your own words still weighing heavy on you, does she care about the truth?

“Yeah, I remember..” You had a sneaking suspicion that you knew what direction this was going in, and you weren’t sure how you felt about it.

“Okay so basically.. the chick she was going with, Nora, bailed on her and now she has no reason to go..” She continues, her lean frame balancing on the doorframe.

“Okay…So?” You retaliate, fingers begging to return to the neck of your instrument, begging to bleed for the purpose of sound. You don't mean to sound so bitchy, the words just fall that way. Callie knows better than to get offended.

“So?! So we inherited the tickets!” Your roommate beams, pushing herself off of the door and welcoming herself onto your bed.

She catches onto your vibe quite quickly, “I know it’s not your favourite genre, but it's a free concert.” You nod your head, she does have a point. You contemplate the opportunity, you hadn't been out in a while and you had made yourself a promise; make well with what you have.

“Maybe you can like.. read a book in the front row and get noticed by the girl playing.. apparently she's a hot lesbian.” She suggests, half joking, half not. You chuckle at the idea, nodding along to her chatter.

“Yeah… it sounds like a good idea.. I'll go—let's go.” You confirm, looking over at the brunette, the words spark confusion from your own mind, but it's too late to back out now.

Her brown eyes light up, body bouncing as she leaps over to hug you. Your eyes widen, hands reaching to salvage your guitar.

“Watch the guitar!” You chuckle, voice raising by just a few octaves.

“Sorry, sorry!” She grimaces, moving away to allow you to remove the instrument from between you.

“Oh my god, i’m so excited.. we're gonna be so hot.. I'm ready now, actually. Anyways.. I’m gonna leave you now, uhh—write hard? Play hard? I dunno..” She waves a hand, the end of her nonsensical chatter fading out as she enters the hallway.

Phew.

The days come and go, the concert being that last thing on your mind as you trudge through the week.

Callie presses you about your outfit a few times, pushing you to accompany her to the mall. You shake your head, promising that the show of an artist you didn't even listen to didn't require a brand new outfit.

You spend your days working and your nights studying. And when you can, you squeeze in some one on one time with your thoughts, sticker clad acoustic resting against your body.

Crazy how you think you know somebody,

every little freckle on their body.

It's crazy how we're strangers now.

Your humming is interrupted by your door opening rather aggressively, a robe covered, face mask wearing Callie appearing in your room within seconds.

“Jesus!” Your eyes widen, Callie chuckles at your less than enthusiastic response. She steps into the room without warning, welcoming herself into your closet.

“You gotta get ready! Close that damn songbook and get hot.” She reminds, flicking through the few articles of closing that she deemed to be concert appropriate.

“Ugh..” You whine, falling back words into your sheets. “That’s tonight?” Your voice grumbles, eyes closing as you bring a stressed hand to each side of your forehead.

“Yep! We need to glam you up. Stand.” She orders. You groan, propping yourself up onto your elbows.

Callie continues to dig through your closet, ripping through ear and every piece of fabric she comes across.

“Dont you dare pull out on me now… You're coming. Point blank.” She haggles, turning around and pointing a finger in your direction.

“Yes, yes.. I'm aware.. you’d probably skin me if I didn't." You laugh, hopping off the bed and dragging yourself to the bathroom.

“Damn right!” Callie laughs, remaining in the bedroom whilst you turn on the shower. You sigh as you shrug off your sweats, Callie’s booming voice pursues, echoing throughout the room.

“Hey, you don't still have that black tank top of mine, do you?” She asks, you can already hear her rummaging through the depths of your closet. You're about to reply when you hear the shuffling of boxes.

”What’s this box?” You freeze. You know exactly what box she's talking about, the one that contained every single polaroid, old songbook and love letter that you tried so hard to forget.

You quickly fling the door open, body barely covered by your undergarments. “Don’t!” You yell, Callie’s eyes widen.

“It's nothing..” You lurch forwards, shuffling the box back into the farthest part of your closet.

Callie raises an eyebrow at your erratic movements, slowly stepping back as you stagger through the wardrobe. You finally reach above yourself, snatching said black tank top off the shelf.

“Here…Sorry.” You smile sheepishly. She accepts the fabric, eyes following you as you speed walk back into the washroom.

The mirror is fogged, steam running down the walls. You shrug, discarding of your bra and underwear. You exhale deeply when the hot water welcomes you, the pure warmth running down the front of your body.

The faint hum of the playlist Callie begged for you to contribute to begins to echo throughout the two rooms. It's barely audible from the en suite, but you can make out the sound of her pitchy voice wavering in with whatever actual song was playing.

You hear her come in and out a few times during the duration of your shower, she tells you to hurry while you’re squeezing a glob of body wash into your palm, the bottle stutters, you’ll replace it eventually.

Callie pops her head in again as you’re finishing up your hair. You take note of her bare face, she’s always pushed for you guys to do your makeup together. She's a girls girl.

“Should we pregame?” She inquires, face sculpting a smirk that's not to be missed. You chuckle, shaking your head back and forth.

“It’s a concert not a house party! We are not pregaming..” You declare, fingers moving effortlessly through your hair. Callie scoffs, eyes rolling to the back of her head. You laugh once again, an instantaneous reaction.

“I’ll be done in a sec, then we can do our makeup and maybe take a shot.. maybe.” You give in, adding the finishing touches to your hair. Callie sticks her tongue out, ushering you out of the way to rinse her face.

“Wear black so we can match, I'm wearing my docs.” She confirms, voice stretching as she slathers herself with face wash. You nod, slipping behind her to enter your bedroom.

Her outfit and makeup bag are laid out on the bed. You huff, taking a few steps towards your closet. You're sure Callie’s oblivious to it, but the tension is too high for your liking.

You throw an old Christmas blanket over the top of the box. It‘s lazily strewn over the cardboard; hidden in plain sight. You swipe through your slew of fabrics, nothing particular catching your eye.

“Just wear—like…Here.” Callie interjects. She opts to search for you rather than verbalizing her response. She steps in front of you, you sneak your foot forward to kick your box-blanket contraption to the back of the closet.

You step back, letting Callie hunt for a top while you preoccupy yourself with your drawer of bottoms.

“What about this? She asks, a dark red cami draped from her fingers. You appreciate the clothing for a moment before nodding. You reach into your bottom drawer, pulling out a pair of black shorts. You nod, throwing the shorts onto the bed alongside Callie’s own outfit.

“Leather jacket?” She questions, reaching for the coat before you can even answer. You chuckle, slipping into your respective outfits

“We look hot.. pass me my makeup bag.” You pronounce, sticking your tongue out as you catch the kit. Callie nods in agreement, stretching a long mhm through her throat.

“Who are we even seeing?” You ask, dipping your hands into the contents of your tiny purse. Callie shrugs, blending the foundation on her face rather harshly.

“I don't even know, actually.. all i know is that it’s some rocker chick… Yea I dunno..” she replies, shaking her head as she reaches for her iPad.

“M’ switching the song.” She discloses as she taps the screen a few times. You chuckle, nodding as you reach for your next product.

This was a terrible idea, you decide. There’s people all over the place, your sweating buckets, and you swear everyone in the world is in this room.

You clutch your bag, weaving in and out of the crowd as Callie walks through the place like she's been there fifty times.

“I can’t believe we got pit tickets.. is Abby made of money?” She squeals, cold, manicured hand wrapping around your wrist as her shoulder checks some girl. Her spatial awareness was never that good..

you apologize to the girl as best you can, she nods, you exhale. “Yeah, I know!” You add, jogging up behind her. Your excitement was growing by the minute. Despite the tightness in your shoes and the knot in your back that you haven't been able to quite remove, you were in.. okay spirits.

“We gotta hurry, show starts at nine.” She clarifies, speeding up her movements. She ducks in and out of the crowd confidently, carelessly. The opener's music reverberates against the walls, it wasn't good music by any means, but you weren’t complaining.

Hey, watch it!, a gruff voice follows you, another man fallen victim to Callie’s confident strut. She shoots him a sharp glare, pulling you up to the front of the barrier. You try to glance back at the faceless dude, but he's now lost in the crowd.

“This is gonna be awesome. Trust me.” She gesticulates, her hair is pulled back into a slicked back high ponytail, black locks running down her back. You take note of her makeup, winged eyeliner sharp enough to cut, and a deep mauve lip. Your best friend was hot.

“Mhm! I’m excited now.” You lean against the railing. Callie bares her teeth, a pearly white smile flashing across her face. You chuckle at her reaction, pulling out your phone to snap a few photos.

The opener's last song quickly fades out into a low simmer of clapping. The music wasn't memorable, you thought you could make out something about abandonment, or was it unrequited love? You didn't care, you were just glad it was over.

The room darkens as you snap the last picture, a blurry shot of the stage before the main event arrives. You squirm in your spot, the leather of your coat sticking to your open skin while your feet throb in the weight of your shoes.

The screen goes completely black and the crowd erupts. People from all around you are jumping up and down and pushing the loudest yells from their chords. Your eyes widen, Callie latches her arm onto your bicep.

A girl beside you makes out something of a laugh and a scream when the first track starts to play. A spark of hope blooms in your chest when you realize the sound is somewhat familiar. You bop your head up and down, wracking your brain on where you’ve heard the song before — but nothing comes.

A bright light flashes in the middle of the stage, you make out the silhouette of a few instruments that occupy the back of the stage. Your eyes flicker to the unused red guitar standing in its place, waiting to be played.

a sudden sinking sensation appears in your chest, you could recognize that blood red body anywhere. A scratched up fender that had been picked out by your very own hands; a gift to her.

“Boston, Massachusetts!” A fried voice yells into a microphone. You catch a glimpse of her before the tears appear.

Ellie fucking Williams.

You aren't sure how, but your heart drops even lower. The crowd moves around you, the entire room screaming chants of her name. Ellie! Ellie! Ellie! You shiver, droplets threatening to fall from your eyes.

Callie’s fully immersed in the experience, chanting her name along with the other oblivious audience members. You bring your hands to your mouth, contemplating squeezing out of here and standing outside while Callie watches your ex girlfriend in all her glory.

Your knees buckle beneath you, the barricade being the only thing preventing you from hitting the ground.

“Hey! What the hell? Are you okay?” Callie calls out, slipping an arm underneath yours. She hoists you up off the barricade as Ellie's husky voice rumbles through the stadium.

The first song begins, and you almost pass out as the crowd starts jumping at the music. Her words echo, the lyrics all being ones that you helped her write.

“What’s going on—why are you crying?!” Her eyes widen, her hands settling on the top of your shoulders. You stumble over your words, your lip wobbling as you attempt to explain your situation.

That’s my ex-girlfriend of three years who I was madly in love with and still write songs about. Yeah, no.

You glance back at the stage, and Ellie’s eyes catch yours. You freeze. She looks away for a brief moment, and you can see the gears moving in her mind. When she looks back, her eyes are wider. Her lips slow against the microphone, words dying in her mouth.

“We have to go, Callie.. please—can we go?” You ramble, pulling her opposite of the stage. She doesn’t budge, searching the room for your source of discomfort. You continue to pull on her limbs, muttering a string of incoherent pleas.

The music slows to a stop, and you’re sure you’re about to die.

“Hold on, Hold on, Hold on..” She says into the mic, you can hear the smirk in her tone. You squeeze your eyes shut and just pray that this will be over soon. You slowly turn towards the stage, trying to remain as invisible as possible.

“I might be seeing this, but I think I see my ex in the crowd..” She chuckles, the crowd erupting into a chorus of “Ooo’s” you curse under your breath, and Callie’s eyes widen. She turns to you, her face contorting from confusion to one of surprise.

Callie points to the giant screen, both of your faces projected for everyone to see. The colour drains from you as Ellie points you out the crowd.

“No… that’s definitely my ex-girlfriend! Wow! Isn't that insane?” She chuckles, you look over to Jesse and Dina, one of them grimacing while the other's jaw is slack in shock.

She steps off the stage, walking right up to the barricade where you and your roommate stood. A few fan girls reach out for her, but she's fully immersed in the moment.

A plethora of phones turn to the pair of you, a few seconds go by before your stomach starts to eat itself from the inside. Your gut twists as she bites her lip, cocky as ever.

“Did you come all the way to Boston to see me? You know I'm playing a Jackson show right?” She snickers, pushing the microphone into your face. You see Callie’s face twist into disgust. Before you can mumble anything even slightly coherent into the microphone Ellie’s already asking you a follow up question.

“Was it cause’ you missed me?” You can't help but roll your eyes, Callie leans into the microphone,

“Arent you supposed to be playing music?” She asks rhetorically. Ellie rolls her eyes, licking her lips. You giggle at Callie’s protection, silently thanking god for her company.

“Yeah, Yeah..” She smirks, leaning over the fence even farther. At this point, shes in your face, taunting you.

“I mean, I dunno about you, but one of us is on the charts… how’s your music doin, babe?” She laughs, pulling away from the fence. She looks you up and down, shouting your name into the mic as an introduction.

She winks as she walks away, the camera zooming in on your embarrassed expression. She turns around again before climbing on the stage. “Infact, get up here.. let the crowd see how bad I ‘fumbled’.. C’mon!” She pushes, making air quotes as she jogs back over to you.

You shake your head no, the thought of being on stage beside her was your personal idea of hell. Your stomach twists as when she reaches for your hand. Quickly pulling your fingers out of her grasp.

“Fuck that. No way, Ellie.” You curse, the crowd's volume raises at your response. You roll your eyes.

Ellie juts her lip out in a faux pout, “Why not, I thought you missed me?” Her smirk is so beyond provoking that you seriously debate reaching forward and slapping her as hard as possible.

“Yeah, right. I totally missed this..” you scoff, reaching for your phone and your best friend. You open the Uber app, attempting to make your escape through the crowd of people.

You pull Callie, who's been cursing auburn headed rockstar under her breath the entire time, through the swamp of bodies. A few people reach out to grab you, clearly thinking you're some kind of celebrity yourself.

You tune out the rest of Ellie’s ridiculing comments, the pit in your stomach has grown too big to endure any more of that. Callie stomps out behind you, her ears pink with anger.

“What the fuck was that!” She yells into the dark, throwing her arms up in confusion. She turns to you, eyes wide as ever.

“Doesnt matter.. I'm just glad it’s over.” You gulp, the lump in your throat desperate to be acknowledged. Tears prick at your waterline, the embarrassment running hot through your body.

“It definitely matters because in about ten minutes your name is going to be viral on twitter. And that's being gracious.” You roll your eyes, nodding along to her words. You take a deep breath, Your ride has been booked !

“We dated… when we both lived in Jackson.. she left, threw dirt on my name and thought it would never catch up to her..” You scoffed, shifting your weight onto one of your legs. Callie nods, eyes widening as you reveal your biggest secret to you.

“So you like touched her and she touched you?” She snorts. Your scoff, pressing your feet into the pavement.

“I guess? Weird way to go about it but—”

“I knew I sensed some tension in there, she was feeling you, girl..” she interrupts, you slap your palm against your forehead. She's unable to continue her ridiculous tangent when the Ubers arrival cuts her off.

“Wait so—” she begins again, and you immediately hold a hand up.

“Callie, not right now… I physically cannot right now.” You sigh, sliding onto the leather seats of the Uber.

“Okay yeah… we’ll come back to that later.” She nods. And you thank god for the silence that fills the car from that point on.

Your head spins, part of you isn't even sure that just happened, you're sure that it's all in your head. You sniffle, moving to look out the window as the Uber moves through the city. Any other day you would’ve admired the city lights and the untouched greenery, but right now it just felt dull.

You were right back where you started.

Your guitar is waiting for you when you arrive home.

You don't wait for anything before slipping into your room, the door shuts with a soft click. The second the instrument lands in your arms, and your fingers are on the strings, you're at peace.

You don’t dare open your phone for the rest of the night, the mess of the real world would have to wait. the music comes easily, the lyrics drip like honey on a sore throat. You smile, strumming until the clock hits midnight and your worries suddenly seem so far away.

previous chapter • next chapter

⠀ you and i. ⟨ ellie w. ⟩

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ❝ we can meet in the middle — ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀body & souls collide, dance in the moonlight. ❞

you’re a daycare teacher, and ellie williams is a broken artist with a mean streak. when a friend pulls you out to a local art exhibition and the two of you meet, there’s an obvious, underlying tension. what kind of tension, you are yet to find out.

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

CHAPTER SIX: THE OTHER WOMAN.

SERIES SYNOPSIS: Midterms were crushing you-and so was she.Maybe she was the right person at the wrong time, or the wrong person at the right time. Either way, none of it mattered when she was next to you.

WARNINGS: 18+, alcohol + drug use, cheating, swearing, mentions of tattoos + body mods (piercings & tattoos), arguments, blood, partying, pining, sexual tension, eventual smut. slow burn with fluff and angst.

The story is told in a messed-up timeline with memory fragments, a gauge on the reader trying to pick at where it all went wrong with Ellie.

SUBMARINE; MASTERLIST.

God, how could you be so stupid.

Now, you stood, shaking, eyes glassy, and mouth twisted into a smile that wasn’t even trying to hide the bitterness anymore.

♡ Coffee stains...

pairing: college!Ellie x barista!Reader

Summary: Ellie who's hit with a smaaaallll crush on her barista... nothing too serious, right?...

content: fluff, slow burn, slight loser ellie behaviour, NOT PROPERLY PROOFREAD....

words: 2.3k

A/N: this has been in drafts TOO long... im so unmotivated... siiigh.........

A new tiny Coffee shop had just opened, standing conveniently close to the crusty college building, now, Ellie wasn't one for coffee, she's not up for overpriced liquid Adrenaline or the bitter aftertaste, if she wants a caffeine buzz she'll take a Red bull, please and thank you, buttt... Dina dragged her there being the coffee fiend she is. there is no escaping for Ellie.

"Just a latte! oh and maybe a slice of that?" Dina shrugged to the display case with a fresh cake crowned with icing, sitting pretty next to a few pastries behind the glass, shielding them away from the little kid who's face was pressed against the surface drooling for the sweets, the whloe shop was busy actually... its doing well for being open for... what, a week? two? and the tip jar was fat and half full already.

nerdy loser!ellie x popular mean fem!reader

bored in english, you reply to a girl named E you’ve been talking to on an anonymous gay dating app—without knowing it’s that lesbian nerd girl, ellie williams.

texting loser!ellie that you have nipple piercing in class 4

“Bitch, you better be joking,” you muttered under your breath, still gripping the steering wheel as you stared wide-eyed at the massive colonial house in front of you.

Ellie raised an eyebrow, already halfway out of the car. “What?”

“You live here?” you blinked at her, completely dumbfounded. “I pass by this house every day. I thought some retired judge or old money CEO lived here. You’re telling me you live here?”

Ellie shut the car door behind her, slinging her backpack over one shoulder. “My grandparents own it,” she said, casual as ever, like the pillars on the porch and the ivy-draped brick weren’t screaming generational wealth.

You followed her up the path, still half in disbelief. “So like… you’re rich-rich?”

Ellie threw a look over her shoulder, half-smirking. “You said that like you’re not.”

“That’s not the point,” you shot back, stepping into the house like you were stepping into a dream. The air smelled like pinewood floors and something faintly floral—clean, expensive, and lived-in. “I loved this house. I’ve loved this house since I was, like, ten. I used to imagine living here.”

Ellie laughed, locking the door behind you. “Yeah? Guess you manifested this group project then.”

You spun slowly where you stood in the foyer, taking everything in. “Shut up. This is insane. I genuinely thought this place belonged to, like, a state senator.”

She shrugged. “Close enough. My grandma’s mean enough to be one.”

Ellie led the way upstairs, the steps solid beneath your feet, the bannister polished to a shine. You trailed behind her, eyes scanning every framed painting and antique light fixture like you were walking through a museum.

She pushed open a door near the end of the hallway and stepped aside. “Uh… make yourself at home, I guess,” she muttered, scratching the back of her neck.

You stepped inside and looked around, slow and curious. It was like walking into Ellie’s brain—quiet, thoughtful, full of little obsessions. The walls were painted a soft sage green that warmed in the late afternoon sun spilling through two wide windows, their white curtains swaying gently in the breeze from a cracked-open pane.

The room was spacious and organized but clearly lived in. A plush, cream-colored sofa sat beneath one of the windows, half-draped with a knitted throw. Nearby was a sleek study desk—minimal but well-used—covered with neat stacks of notebooks, a digital tablet, and a mechanical keyboard that softly glowed. A small but powerful PC setup occupied the far end of the desk, dual monitors angled just right, wallpaper rotating slowly through constellations and galaxies.

You turned slowly, letting your gaze settle on a tall glass cabinet against the far wall. Inside, dozens of small figurines stood in tidy rows—dinosaurs in different colors and sizes, some realistic, some clearly stylized. A few of them had tiny chips on their edges, signs of years of care and collecting rather than neglect. One had a bent tail that made you smile.

“I didn’t know you were this much of a dinosaur girl,” you said.

Ellie was at her closet, kicking off her sneakers. “I was obsessed for a while,” she mumbled.

You moved closer to a nearby shelf, lined with hardcovers—space encyclopedias, sci-fi novels, and what looked like Ellie’s old astronomy notebooks stacked in a row. A small solar system model sat at the end, its planets perfectly aligned. You gently tapped the base and watched them rotate, slow and precise.

“You’re, like… a full-blown space nerd.”

Ellie shrugged, half-smiling. “I like stars. And planets. And stuff.”

In the corner rested a black acoustic guitar on a mahogany stand, a patterned strap loosely draped over it. Next to it, under the windowsill, sat a low wooden crate filled with vinyl records, their covers carefully arranged. A small speaker setup stood nearby, connected to a vintage-looking turntable.

You smiled as you traced your finger along the edge of a record sleeve. “I didn’t expect this.”

Ellie raised a brow. “What’d you expect?”

You looked around again. “I don’t know.”

That made her smile, just a little. “You saying you’re impressed?”

You shrugged. “Maybe.”

You let your eyes roam one more time—across the sunlight on the hardwood floors, the cabinet of dinosaurs, the calm glow of her screen-saver, the way everything felt exactly like her—and then turned to her.

Still smiling, but with a slight shift in your tone. “Will you marry me someday, Ellie?”

Ellie blinked. A beat passed. Her brows pulled together in that way she had when she was trying to tell if you were serious.

“No.” She frowned softly.

You scoffed, placing a hand over your chest. “Ouch.”

Ellie cracked a smile, dropped her bag beside the bed, and flopped down onto the mattress like she was trying not to look at you. “You just want the house.”

“Obviously.” You sat at the edge of her bed, fingers brushing lightly over one of the velvet pillows. “I’d treat her so well.”

“She’s not a person.”

“She’ll be everything to me.”

Ellie glanced at you, shaking her head with a barely-there grin.

Working with Ellie for the past week had actually been… easy. Surprisingly easy, if you were being honest.

She’d disagree with your ideas sometimes—always with that slight squint of her eyes, arms crossed like she was mentally sorting through what she was about to say. But she always heard you out first. Every time. Even when she clearly thought your suggestion was insane. Especially when it was insane.

Except that one time you suggested writing the entire novel in second person, with multiple timelines and unreliable narrators. She didn’t even entertain that one. Just stared at you for a full three seconds before muttering, “God help me,” and going back to outlining the plot like she hadn’t heard you at all.

Aside from that, though, she was surprisingly agreeable. Focused. Quiet, unless she was explaining something or making a snarky comment. And incredibly easy to pick on.

You’d learned that by day two.

There was something about the way she always lined up her pens or re-highlighted things that were already highlighted—little habits that made it way too tempting to mess with her. Like when you started moving her bookmarks just an inch to the left every time she wasn’t looking.

She noticed. She always noticed.

“The hell is wrong with you?” she whispered once in the middle of class, narrowing her eyes as she fixed it for the third time that day.

You had just smiled sweetly. “Just keeping you on your toes.”

“You’re insufferable,” she muttered, and didn’t speak to you for the entire English class that followed, even though you sat directly beside her.

It kind of became your thing after that—poking just enough to get a reaction, then spending the rest of the day slowly earning her tolerance back.

Not that she ever seemed really mad. She’d roll her eyes, tell you to shut up, shove her sleeve over her mouth like she was hiding a smile. And by the time your next meeting rolled around, she’d be exactly the same again—pen in hand, posture stiff, pretending not to look at you first.

Ellie had barely set her laptop down before saying she was going to grab snacks.

“Be right back,” she mumbled, tugging her hoodie sleeves over her hands as she left the room.

You nodded, watching her disappear down the hallway.

The door clicked shut behind her, and the silence felt sudden. The occasional creak from the hallway. Afternoon light painting golden lines across the floorboards.

You pulled your phone from your pocket and tapped it awake.

Still nothing.

You opened your last conversation with E, thumb hovering over the screen.

you:

i kinda don’t want to have lunch today.. but i also haven’t had breakfast whatever

That was hours ago. And E hadn’t even left you on read—just nothing at all.

Your eyes scanned the rest of the thread—long, tired little chains of conversation that started somehow and never really ended. Late-night check-ins. Stupid memes in the morning. A “good luck” before class. Each photo you sent—whether it was your face half-buried in a hoodie, a thigh pic under your desk in class, or a cropped mirror shot angled just right to show your waist, the subtle curve of skin beneath your shirt—always got something back.

Sometimes even the ones where your top had slipped lower, nipples visible, the tiny glint of silver from your piercings catching in the light.

But it was the fics that really did it.

The smutty ones. The dog-eared AO3 screenshots, annotated with unhinged commentary, sent half-laughing, half-serious. “ok but imagine this is us?”

And she would bite. Every time.

“You’re sick for this.”

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“I’m gonna dream about this tonight.”

She made it easy to keep wanting her. Easy to overshare. Easy to feel like you were wanted right back.

Talking to E had really become your favorite part of the day. A kind of warmth that reached into quiet parts of you no one else did. And it wasn’t even about what she said, always—it was just her. The feeling of being known by someone who didn’t ask for the clean version of you.

But sometimes, you notice the pattern.

The way she disappeared. Went quiet. Left just enough space between replies to make you feel like maybe you were doing too much.

Or not enough.

Something in her tone that made you reread it three times and still not be sure if she was pulling away or just tired.

You didn’t want to be the kind of person who obsessed over gray bubbles and silence. But here you were.

Thumb hovering again.

Typing. Deleting.

You locked the screen.

Ellie’s door opened a second later, followed by the rustle of a grocery bag and her voice—low, casual.

“Okay. I didn’t know what you wanted so I grabbed, like… every snack we had. And also a root beer I will probably not share.”

You turned in your seat, slipping your phone face-down onto the desk.

“That’s fair,” you said, smiling like nothing was stuck behind your teeth.

Ellie kicked the door shut behind her and dropped the snacks on the bed. “Also, if you eat all the cheddar popcorn, we’re done. That’s, like, the one boundary I have.”

You snorted. “Good to know you’re finally opening up.”

She raised a brow. “One time. One time I tell you I liked dinosaurs and you’re never letting it go.”

You grinned. “Never.”

You set your laptop on your lap, fingers hovering over the keys as you waited for it to wake. She’d claimed the sofa across from you, legs folded under her, root beer cracked open with a soft sound.

You glanced up for a second—just long enough to watch her sip it, the can tipped lazily to her lips, her focus already buried in the screen.

Your eyes flicked back to your phone, opening your conversation with E last night.

E:

i feel like you wear perfume just to ruin lives

you:

maybe i do. maybe i want your life ruined a little

E:

ok relax dark temptress

you:

say that again. slower

E:

shut up

you:

ur blushing

E:

i literally am

you:

i win

E:

i’m blocking you

you:

you always say that u never do it though ur obsessed

E:

it’s disgusting how right you are

A grin tugged at your lips before you could stop it.

Ellie glanced up briefly from her screen, root beer still in hand. “What.”

You shook your head quickly, too quick. “Nothing.”

She gave you a suspicious look. “You’re smiling like a creep.”

You tucked your phone under your thigh and lifted your laptop slightly. “No I’m not.”

“You are,” she said, dry. “If you start giggling and kicking your feet I’m unplugging the router.”

You snorted. “Let a girl have her delusions.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, but there was the faintest twitch at the corner of her mouth. She turned back to her laptop and tapped a few keys, half-muttering, “Insufferable.”

You didn’t respond.

Instead, you unlocked your phone again and snapped a quick pic of you, laptop on your legs, lips curved in the softest almost-smile. The light was warm and flattering. Your hair is a little messy.

you:

im at my classmate’s house rn 😗 working on a thing

You hit send and waited, thumb hovering over the screen just a little longer than necessary. Nothing yet.

Across from you, Ellie’s brows flicked up—so quick you almost missed it. She's looking at her laptop like she’d just gotten a notification. But she didn’t say anything. Didn’t look up. Just shifted slightly in her seat, set her root beer down, and kept typing.

So you went back to work too.

Or tried to.

You clicked into the doc, reread the last paragraph you wrote twice, pretended to focus. But your eyes kept drifting—screen, phone, screen again. The silence started to feel heavier.

You opened the chat again.

you:

i miss u :( wife

You didn’t mean to stare at it that long. But you did. You just… sat there, screen dimming, thumb tracing over the side of the phone.

You didn’t really notice you were zoning out until you sighed—long, quiet, maybe just loud enough for Ellie to hear. She didn’t say anything. But a few seconds later, she stood.

“I’m gonna go get something,” she said.

You looked up. “Okay,” you said, voice soft and low.

She grabbed her phone from the table before walking out.

You sat there for a moment, blinking. Feeling the quiet settle again, too deep this time. Hating the way the room suddenly felt too big.

Then—

A buzz.

You scrambled for your phone.

E:

i miss u too :( sorry just a bit busy with school stuff

The smile hit you before you could stop it.

you:

oh no don’t be sorry i totally understand hehe but don’t overwork yourself too much, okay? save some energy for me 🫶

You didn’t even look up when Ellie walked back in.

But if you had, you would’ve caught her pausing at the door—glancing over at you, then down at her screen, before moving again.

Like she wasn’t sure which part of her day she was more interested in.

You tried to focus on working again. Really, you did. Fingers moved over the keyboard, screen glowing softly, but your eyes kept drifting—just slightly—to your phone resting on the table. Still nothing new. Still sitting there, like it wasn’t driving you quietly insane.

Across from you, Ellie had settled further into the sofa, her posture loose now. Laptop resting on her legs, hoodie sleeves bunched around her wrists. Her fingers clicked quietly against the keyboard, jaw soft with focus, root beer can now abandoned beside her.

You glanced at her once—just once—before biting your bottom lip and reaching for your phone again.

you:

do u wanna see me again?

You stared at the message for a second longer than you should’ve. Felt the weight of it in your chest—hopeful and maybe a little reckless.

And then, without waiting for a reply, something tugged at your lips. An idea. The kind you didn’t bother talking yourself out of.

You stood, placing your laptop gently on the table.

“I’m gonna go use the bathroom,” you said, casual.

Ellie looked up, blinking like she hadn’t realized you’d moved. “Uh, sure—it’s just in the corner.” Her chin tilted toward the far end of the room, gesturing toward a white-painted door.

“Thanks.” You smiled, trying to keep it innocent, even as something smug curled under your words. You turned, walking off toward the door, heartbeat a little quicker now.

And behind you, you didn’t notice the way Ellie’s eyes followed you, lips caught gently between her teeth, wondering what exactly you were about to do.

You stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind you, the soft click of the latch sounding louder in the stillness. The mirror greeted you with your own reflection—flushed cheeks, slightly messy hair, eyes too full of something unspoken.

You set your phone on the sink and stared at yourself for a moment, lips twitching at the corners. Then you started posing—hands on your waist, a little tilt of your head, a soft pout. You ran your fingers through your hair, gave the mirror a wink, then laughed under your breath.

Off came the blouse—baby pink, loose and soft—leaving you in a delicate lace bra that matched your skirt a little too well. You leaned on the sink, bit your lip, snapped a few mirror shots. Nothing too posed. Just enough.

A short clip followed—hair tousled, your hand brushing it back while you grinned at your own reflection. Just a second of warmth and soft vanity.

You selected your favorites and sent them.

you:

here’s for ur hard work today ;) hope u like it

Before heading out of the bathroom, you typed out one last message:

you:

i’m gonna go focus now on our work my partner’s gonna kill me for being on my phone too much talk to u later 💋💋

You slipped your phone into your pocket, still grinning. When you opened the door, the smile softened—for a moment you just frowned, noticing the room was empty.

Ellie wasn’t there. Her laptop sat open on the coffee table, casting a faint glow over the sofa cushions.

You crossed the room, then straightened, deciding to find her.

“Ellie?” you called, voice low. The hallway answered with silence. Sock-footed, you drifted past closed doors, the house somehow too quiet.

Downstairs, you hesitated at the landing, then turned toward the kitchen.

Ellie stood at the sink, hoodie tossed onto the nearby table. She was in a black tank top now, shoulders taut, biceps flexed slightly as she braced both hands on the edge of the basin. A glass of water rested beside her. She bowed her head, then lifted it toward the wide window, as though trying to breathe.

“Ellie?” you tried again, softer.

She startled, fingers closing around the glass—only for it to slip from her grip and crash to the tile, water splashing everywhere.

“Shit,” she hissed, crouching.

“Don’t—” You hurried forward. “Let me. You’ll cut yourself.”

She froze, still crouched, hands hovering above the shards before pulling back. She didn’t look at you—more like she couldn’t.

You grabbed a cloth, knelt, and gathered the larger pieces. Ellie straightened, leaning into the counter, gaze fixed on a spot far ahead.

Glass disposed of, puddle mopped up, you rose and turned toward her. Her cheeks were tinged pink, jaw tight.

“Sorry you had to do that,” she murmured, finally glancing your way.

“It’s fine,” you said, giving a small nod.

You lingered there a second longer, eyes drifting. Ellie still wasn’t looking at you—not really—but you couldn’t help but look at her. The way she was leaning into the counter, arms behind her, her black tank top clinging to the curve of her shoulders. Her arms were more toned than you expected. Defined in a way that caught the light when she shifted, muscles flexing under skin.

You didn’t raise your brows, didn’t let your face say anything, but the thought crept in anyway.

She’s kind of… hot.

You cleared your throat softly.

“You okay?” you asked gently. “If you’re not feeling well, we can stop for today.”

She exhaled shakily, finally looking at you again—really looking this time.

Her gaze lingered. And then her lips parted, like she was going to say something else. Instead, she bit down gently on her bottom lip, shook her head, and pushed off the counter to walk past you.

“I’m going crazy,” she muttered under her breath as she brushed by.

You frowned as you followed her.

“You’re so weird, dude,” you muttered.

Ellie didn’t respond. Still in her black tank top and grey sweatpants, she headed upstairs, shoulders tense. She plopped down on the sofa and pulled her laptop back onto her lap.

You followed her in and sat across from her again, settling your own laptop on your legs. But your eyes didn’t move to the screen just yet. They were on her.

She felt it.

After a few seconds, she finally asked—without looking up, voice too casual.

“What?”

You squinted slightly. “Nothing.”

Why was she suddenly being so weird?

You sighed and slid your laptop toward her, tilting the screen. “Read this.”

Ellie didn’t look at you. She just took it and started reading, her brows knitting together in concentration.

Her eyes scanned the text. Her lashes flicked. Her messy hair fell into her face again—she didn’t bother pushing it back. The scar above her eyebrow tugged faintly when she focused, and the line of freckles across her nose caught the light from the window beside her.

You stared a second too long.

And then looked away—too fast—like something in your chest stirred and you weren’t ready to name it.

You nodded toward the window, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach.

“You ever use that to sneak out?”

“No,” Ellie said, still reading.

“Really? So you don’t sneak out at all?”

“Why would I sneak out?” she replied flatly.

You rolled your eyes. “Right.”

That got her to finally glance up. Brows raised.

You pulled your laptop back and placed it on your lap again. She shifted, eyes dropping back to her own screen.

“What?” she asked. “You’re suddenly interested in my social life now?”

You shrugged. “Just curious.”

You tried to go back to work. Tried. But your cursor blinked beneath a sentence that ended in the word kiss, and your mind trailed off again.

You glanced sideways at her.

“How about dating life?”

Ellie sighed, long and reluctant.

“Oh, come on,” you groaned. “I’m just making conversation. It’s awkward as hell in here.”

Still not looking at you, Ellie leaned back against the sofa, laptop balanced on her knees. “If you’re asking if I’m dating anyone, I’m not.”

You raised your brows. “Really?”

Then, after a beat—leaning in just slightly, eyes glinting—

“What’s your type, then?” you asked, tone casual, but your eyes didn’t leave her.

Ellie scoffed, still focused on her screen. “I hate it when you ask questions like that. It’s creepy.”

You rolled your eyes. “I asked what your type is, not if you believe in ghosts.”

She sighed like you were exhausting her, dragging her fingers across the trackpad. “I don’t know... but it’s definitely someone who isn’t as annoying as you.”

Your mouth fell open. “Fuck you. I’m not annoying. People literally beg to be around me.”

That earned a quiet scoff—like she remembered something, lips twitching faintly, her gaze still fixed on the screen. “Yeah, no. You’re a bitch.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Wow,” you muttered, like you were offended—but only a little. You stared at her for a second, then gave a small nod. “Fair.” You looked back down at your screen, typing a few lines just to give your hands something to do.

Then you turned back to her. Your voice was calm but edged with something else.

“If I’m that annoying, would you rather have someone else as your project partner?”

Ellie looked up, finally meeting your eyes, a flicker of amusement breaking through her guarded expression.

“Yes.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Rude.”

You shrugged, settling back in your seat.

“It’s fine. I just know no one else has both an imaginative mind and looks like me. So, your loss, really.”

Ellie hummed, nodding slowly, like she was pretending to be thoughtful.

“Imaginative mind, yeah,” she muttered, eyes still on her screen—but her jaw shifted a little like she was biting back something else. Her mind clearly somewhere else.

You narrowed your eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” she said, a little too quickly.

She didn’t look at you. She didn’t have to.

But she could still hear you in her head—your voice in those texts, the unhinged little messages from your secret account, the pictures burned somewhere behind her eyelids. And now you were just… here. Saying things like that. Still teasing. Still smiling. Still somehow not knowing.

She cleared her throat.

You smirked. “Weird.”

Ellie shot you a look. “You’re the weird one.”

You raised a brow, clearly not believing that. But you dropped it for now and just rolled your eyes.

The silence stretched again. Just the quiet sound of keys tapping, the occasional shift of weight on the cushions.

Then Ellie spoke—low, almost too casual.

“How about you?”

You blinked, glancing up. “What?”

Ellie didn’t look away from her screen.

“Your type,” she said. “What is it?”

Your brain stuttered. For a moment, you felt your whole internal system freeze and reboot.

“Oh,” you said, voice a little too light. “I mean…”

You leaned back slightly, trying to play it cool, your fingers toying with the corner of your laptop.

“I guess I like someone smart. Like… nerdy, maybe.” You swallowed. “Not, like, pocket protector-nerdy, just… brainy. Sarcastic. Kinda mean.”

It was stupidly obvious who you were thinking about. E. You were literally just describing her.

Ellie’s eyes flicked up at that. Just for a second. Then back to her screen.

You didn’t miss it.

You looked down quickly, suddenly shy, not even sure why. Saying it out loud had felt bolder than you meant for it to. Too revealing. Too… real.

Wait.

Your fingers stilled on your trackpad.

Did I just describe—?

You glanced sideways.

Ellie was quiet, still working, her jaw resting lightly on the back of her hand as she scrolled through the doc. Focused, casual, totally unreadable.

But—

She was definitely a nerd. That much was obvious.

And sarcastic? Always.

Kind of mean? Especially when you teased her. Or suggested something vaguely unhinged to add to the project.

Your eyes drifted to her hands. Sometimes you saw silver rings on her fingers, glinting when she reached for something or tapped her screen. But today, they were bare. Still, you recognized the way her knuckles tensed when she got too focused.

You glanced around the room again—the constellations on her wallpaper, the dinosaur display, the well-loved sci-fi books. Her hoodie still tossed on the table downstairs, abandoned after she came to the kitchen like something had knocked the breath out of her.

Could it be?

You felt your chest tighten at the thought.

No. You shut it down immediately.

It’s impossible.

You bit the inside of your cheek, turning back to your screen like it had all the answers.

Ellie wasn’t like that.

She wasn’t that type.

She wouldn’t be the kind to—

You shook your head, jaw tight.

Stop.

You weren’t going there.

You slumped deeper into the sofa, already getting your phone on the table

Maybe you were just bored. Or spiraling. Or looking for something you weren’t ready to find.

You opened E’s thread again. Still nothing since earlier. No “💋,” no typing bubble. No read receipt.

You chewed your bottom lip and typed anyway, nervous.

You:

wyd rn

Sent.

Your eyes lifted. Straight to Ellie.

Still perched on the couch, posture relaxed, laptop on her thighs. No shift in her expression. No glance your way. Just her fingers moving across the keyboard like she hadn’t even noticed your presence, let alone a text.

You swallowed. Something in your chest tugged—tightly. Not hope. Not exactly. Just dread.

Then your phone buzzed.

E:

ran out for a sec need to walk off this headache lol

You blinked. Looked up again.

Ellie didn’t move. Still typing. Still locked into whatever she was working on.

Then another buzz.

E:

[Image attachment]

It loaded slowly.

A blurry sidewalk. A lamppost. Empty curb. Gray light stretched thin across cracked pavement.

Your stomach twisted.

You glanced back at Ellie. No change. No tells. Still in the same exact spot, brows drawn in quiet focus.

So… not her.

Couldn’t be.

You let your shoulders relax, barely. A breath slipping out of you before you even realized you were holding it.

And yet—

Why did that feel like disappointment?

The thought didn’t even finish before another crashed in.

What if it had been her?

The idea alone sent a wave of heat and panic flooding up your spine. You tried to shove it down, but it lingered—rising anyway.

You thought about the photos you’d sent. The unfiltered, teasing messages. The fics. The way you flirted like it was a game, like it didn’t mean anything.

The idea that this girl across from you—Ellie, with her freckles and sharp tongue and dinosaur figurines—might’ve been on the receiving end of all of that?

Dread curled sharp in your chest. Embarrassment came right after—fast and bright and cloying. But beneath the dread, buried somewhere in the quiet crackle of your nerves, was something else.

Something you couldn’t name yet.

And that scared you most of all.

You unconsciously turned your attention back to your screen—anything to distract from the way your chest still felt tight.

But then your breath caught.

The document was… gone.

One second it was there, the cursor blinking like normal—and the next, just a blank screen. The title still at the top, autosave icon spinning, but no text. Not even a draft in the history.

“Fuck.”

No response.

You said it again, louder. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

Ellie looked up from her laptop, brows furrowing. “What happened?”

You angled your laptop slightly toward her, panic bubbling in your voice. “I don’t know—I didn’t touch anything. It just… disappeared.”

She didn’t answer. Just stood wordlessly and walked over.

You barely had time to scoot forward before she was behind you—standing at the back of the sofa, leaning over. One hand braced lightly against the cushion beside your shoulder, the other already sliding across the trackpad.

You froze.

Her face was close. Closer than it had ever been. You could smell her perfume again—clean and soft, with something sharp underneath. Something citrusy and grounding, like cedar and white musk.

You didn’t mean to look at her, but your eyes flicked sideways.

Her focus was locked on the screen, brows drawn, lips parted just slightly in concentration. Her fingers moved with quick, confident precision across the keys. Her head was tilted down, so close to yours you could feel the whisper of her breath against your cheek every now and then.

You didn’t move. Didn’t dare.

Your own mouth parted—just a bit. The warmth between you was suddenly too real. Too loud.

She didn’t seem to notice.

Her right hand stayed pressed behind you on the couch for balance, close enough to feel the heat of her knuckles. You were caught—body still, heart sprinting, stomach twisted in something you couldn’t quite name.

This was fine.

This was just Ellie fixing the doc.

Except…

Except your mind wasn’t on the laptop anymore.

It was on the curve of her shoulder, the quiet sound of her breathing, the way she looked from this close—freckles soft across her cheek, scar curling slightly over her brow, lashes lowering as she focused.

“It’s fixed,” Ellie said simply, tapping a few final keys before standing like she hadn’t just made your heart try to break through your ribcage—and went back to her spot on the opposite sofa, resuming her quiet focus like nothing happened.

You just sat there.

Staring.

Your screen glowed in front of you, but your eyes didn’t register anything. Your heartbeat was still racing—loud, fast, confusing. You pressed your palm lightly to your chest, like you could calm it down through sheer will.

Damn it.

You only felt like this when E texted you something flirty. When she said your name in lowercase followed by a period.

So why the hell were you feeling it now?

You looked over at Ellie again, who was already typing like nothing happened. No trace of what just passed between you. No sign she noticed how close she'd gotten. How soft her voice had been. How her perfume still clung faintly to your nostrils softly.

What is happening to me?

You blinked and looked away.

Just as your heart finally started to settle, Ellie’s voice cut through the silence—calm, a little smug.

“You know, for a one-page document, you really freaked the hell out.”

You turned your head slowly, squinting at her. “It was deleting itself.”

She raised a brow, fingers still tapping away. “Mm-hm.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting your laptop back onto your lap. “Don’t worry. I’ll finish this at home and send it to you immediately, boss.”

Ellie looked up, deadpan. “Yeah, I doubt you’ll actually do that.”

You gasped, mock-offended. “What do you mean? I study at home. Like… all the time.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it.

Because okay, she wasn’t wrong. You did spend most of your time after class texting E. Not exactly studious behavior. But she didn’t know that.

Right?

You rolled your eyes, recovering. “Oh, right. Sorry. I forgot you’d rather have someone else do this project with you anyway.”

Ellie let out a short laugh, shaking her head with a smirk. “Yeah,” Ellie said, dry. “Someone who doesn’t scream bloody murder when their laptop hiccups.”

You glared. “I didn’t scream.”

“You said fuck three times,” she replied, raising an eyebrow.

Something about the way she said it—calm, flat, unbothered—made heat crawl up your neck.

Why the hell did that sound hot?

It was just a word. One you said. But hearing her say it, with that voice, that look—

You blinked hard and looked away.

No. Nope. Absolutely not.

You were losing it.

You sighed as you slipped your laptop into your bag. So many things happened today. Well—not many, technically. You just spent it with Ellie. But still.

Why are you feeling like this?

Why did her fixing your document feel… hot? Why did the way she leaned in nearly knock the air out of your lungs? Why is she the one making your heart feel like it’s skipping steps?

Is it because the thought of her being E crossed your mind?

You glanced over.

Ellie was quietly gathering the snack wrappers, her back turned as she picked up the root beer can and half-eaten popcorn bag to bring them downstairs. The curve of her arm flexed slightly as she lifted the snacks, her black tank top hugging her back just enough to make your thoughts spiral all over again.

Her sweatpants hung low on her hips. Her shoulders were strong. Her posture effortless.

Fuck.

You needed to go home. You needed to get away from her.

I don’t like her.

You repeated that to yourself like it might cancel out whatever was happening in your chest.

When Ellie stepped out of the room, you nearly exhaled in relief.

The second the door clicked shut, the air felt easier to breathe. Like the heat that had been crawling up your neck finally backed off.

You grabbed your bag and headed downstairs. The sun was long gone, sky outside bruised and dark. You weren’t even planning on saying goodbye—just a quick escape.

But as you reached the foyer, she reappeared from the kitchen.

“Uh,” she started. “Can I ride with you? I just need to stop by the store.”

You froze for half a second.

“Uh… yeah,” you said, even though you absolutely did not want to.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath.

You stepped out into the night air, crossing her driveway toward your car as Ellie trailed a few steps behind you.

And even with all this distance, you still felt the press of her in your thoughts.

You drove with one hand on the wheel, eyes straight ahead. Ellie sat beside you, quiet. The car filled with nothing but the hum of the engine and the occasional shuffle when you turned.

On a normal day, you might’ve said something dumb by now. Something teasing or annoying. You’d poke fun at her playlist, or ask if she really believed Pluto shouldn’t be a planet. She’d groan. You’d grin.

But not tonight.

Not after… everything.

The silence settled too comfortably between you both. Heavy. Stifling.

She pointed when you reached the street corner. “There,” she said softly.

You pulled over by the small convenience store, the red glow of its sign washing over the dashboard.

She got out after muttering a simple “thank you,” the car door clicking gently shut. Still in that black tank top. Still completely unaware of what she was doing to your brain.

You watched her walk up the short curb. Then your gaze flicked to the two girls standing outside near the vending machine. One of them nudged the other. Laughed under her breath. Their heads turned.

Staring at Ellie.

Your fingers curled around the steering wheel, knuckles whitening just slightly.

They were checking her out. Of course they were. She looked like that.

You swallowed, jaw tight.

Why does it piss me off that they get to see her like that?

You blinked hard and shifted in your seat, willing yourself to breathe through your nose. Your foot tapped lightly against the gas pedal, like your body was ready to drive away before your mind gave permission.

But you didn’t.

You just sat there, staring out the windshield. Telling yourself not to care. Not to feel anything.

You need to talk to E.

You need to remember who you like.

You need to get a grip.

tag list:

previous | chapter 8 | next

꩜ pairing: Ellie Williams x fem reader (No use of y/n)

꩜ content warnings: smoking, drinking, suggestive themes, evil parents:(

꩜ WC: 13.4k

꩜ Author’s note: holy fuck… it’s finally here after almost a month (i apologize), i think ill take a small break or post a one-shot while i write the next chapter<3 okay luv u angels enjoy! this one was a roller coaster!

୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧

Three years ago…

The advertisement looked sketchy at first, you weren’t even sure if it was recent or it had been up for months now, but you were desperate to find a job. Your options were running low, including your savings. 

All because your parents were throwing a tantrum, and you’d finally had enough of their bullshit, so you packed your stuff and left to prove them wrong, that you figure things out on your own, without them. You weren’t a kid anymore. You were freshly graduated from college and all you wanted now was freedom and independence, and for your parents to stop controlling every single part of your life.

Since you were a kid, they had it all perfectly laid out. Calculated. What you’d wear, what you’d say, how you’d behave. God, even who would you like. And when they found out you were into girls, thanks to those stupid rumors in your freshman year of Highschool about you making out with girls under the bleachers (which weren’t entirely false) they lost it. The principal had called them in. You still remembered the way their faces dropped like the world had ended.

They didn’t take it well at first, but eventually they just accepted it wasn’t going away, so they redirected their grip, controlling any other side they could take, college, extracurriculars, everything else. So when you finally graduated, you made it your mission to run away from that life, and start over. Getting an apartment was the first step, it wasn’t that hard, you connected with a girl from a facebook group looking for a roommate. Sally was her name. She was sweet but kind of serious, two years older than you, working some corporate job and seemingly having her life put together.

The second step was telling your parents. 

The hardest part.

They didn’t say anything at first, praying that you were joking. But when you showed them the apartment keys jiggling in your hand they lost it. Your mother broke down crying, screaming about how ungrateful you were. followed by a long silent look of disapproval from your dad. Then came the guilt trip, the list of all the things they had sacrificed and done to raise you, only for you to “turn your back on them.” It was pointless, really. Fighting wouldn’t get you anywhere. So all you did was sit there silently and pack your stuff as quickly as you could.

They took away your car keys, like that would stop you. You called an uber as tears threatened to spill, quickly wiping them away when you heard the driver pull into your front lawn. 

They didn’t even say goodbye, just stared at you as you left. 

A part of you was sad this is how it had to go.

But the other part?

The other part felt free.

Not having to live under their conditions, their curfews, their rules. It was all up to you now, and yeah, it was scary. But you had been waiting for this moment your entire fucking life.

The bell jingled above the door as you entered the diner. It was packed with families, old couples and some loners hunched over their coffee mugs. The floors were sticky beneath your shoes, and the place smelled like syrup and grease. You made your way to the counter, and spotted what seemed to be a waitress wearing a ridiculous outfit. You asked her if the manager was around, showing her the “we are hiring” ad you had seen online. 

She smiled kindly and told you to wait. 

You sat on the empty stool while you waited, ironing your clothes and flattening the creased resume sheet against the counter. Your breath hitched when a woman in her fifties leaned on the counter in front of you. The small nametag on her shirt read ‘Maria’. Her gray eyes were sharp, piercing your soul as you stared at her, like she could read you in seconds. 

“Hello sweetie. You here for the waitress job?” she asked softly, her voice less intimidating than her stare. 

“Yes—well for anything you have available,” you said. “I saw the ad online, and I’m desperate.” Your voice cracked, but you couldn’t break down just now. This was your last shot, and there was no way you could go back home to your parents. “I’m a fast learner, and I’m good with people most of the time. I studied business at college—I could be a good addition to the team. I just…I really need the job.” You said, fidgeting with the rings on your fingers.

Maria gave you a tender look. Not the pity kind of look, more of a curious one.

“And why are you here, then? she asked. “Why this place?” 

The question caught you off guard. It wasn’t invasive, it was caring.

“Well I—” You exhaled. “I wanted to start fresh. Get away from my crazy ass family, and prove that I don’t need them. Mostly to myself than to them. I don’t have much experience in this area, but I’m willing to work hard. I don’t care about the hours, I just need a sign that this can work out.” 

Maria stayed quiet for a minute, like she was reconsidering everything, but when she finally spoke up her voice was firm and steady.

 “Alright sweetheart. You start tomorrow at 8am sharp, I need you here early so I can walk you through everything. Tasks, scheduling, and pay.” Her eyes narrowed a little.” Don’t make me regret it.”

You blinked at her, stunned, as a relieved smile bloomed across your face. The weight you’d been carrying for weeks seemed to melt off. Maria smiled back and slid a form toward you. You filled it out with trembling fingers.

You stood up, dizzy with relief, and turned around to leave.

But on your way out, you bumped into someone—a girl around your age, hoodie slouched low over her head like she didn’t want to be seen. You didn’t catch much of her face, just a few strands of auburn hair sticking out from under the hood. She muttered a quick sorry and slipped past you toward the counter. You didn’t think much of it. Not then.

You stepped into the cold air outside, hands in your pockets, the note from Maria crumpled in your hand.

It wasn’t over yet. You were going to be okay. And you couldn’t afford to fuck this up.

Not a chance.

Now, the diner felt like a second home. You moved through the kitchen with ease, checking stock, flipping switches, restocking napkin dispensers, keeping everything running smoothly before the real chaos of the lunch rush began.

You liked mornings. Liked the quiet. Liked being alone with your thoughts…except today, your thoughts were anything but quiet. They were noisy and burning. Your mind kept spinning all around her, like she was the sun, and you were just orbiting helplessly in her pull. Jesus, you even made nerdy space references in your head now.

There was still a hum in your chest, soreness and warmth rushed through your veins in the best way. Your thighs ached faintly, a quiet, secret reminder of her. Your lips were still a little puffy. And when you accidentally brushed the spot behind your ear with your fingers, you swore you could still feel her mouth there, like she had left something permanent behind.

Your stomach flipped just remembering it all over again. How she looked at you like you were made of stars or cosmic dust.

And god, your heart… Your heart felt like it had been cracked open. Not in a painful way. Just… exposed. Wide and aching and open, and entirely hers to hold.

You hadn’t slept much. After you curled around her, her breathing slowed. You just watched her. Tracing the small scar near her ribs. Letting your fingers drift along the lines of the fern tattoo on her forearm. You didn’t speak for a while, after all, it had all been said with touch.

But now, with morning sunlight pouring through the diner windows, the silence felt a little heavier.

You left a note before slipping out, folded and left on her desk rereading it three times before leaving. 

You turned back toward the coffee machine and checked the brew. The smell filled the air, rich and comforting, and you tried to lose yourself in the routine of things, stacking mugs, cleaning the counter, keeping your hands busy.

But your mind never stopped spinning.

Had she woken up yet? Had she read it? Was she thinking about you the way you were thinking about her?

The bell over the door jingled. And your heart jumped before you could stop it.

You turned around and there she was.

Ellie stepped in, hoodie slung low on her shoulders, camera bag hanging from one side, and a smug little smile already tugging at her lips. Her hair was a bit damp, and her eyes had that slow, sleepy glint that made your knees weak.

She looked so real. So casual. Like she hadn’t kept you up all night with the memory of her hands and her mouth and the soft way she whispered your name. And yet, seeing her there, framed by the morning light and smirking like she already knew what she’d done to you?

You were gone all over again.

“Morning,” you said, casually, as if your heart wasn’t flipping inside your chest.

Ellie tilted her head, eyes sweeping over you from head to toe in that annoyingly slow, intentional way. “Didn’t expect to wake up alone.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “Didn’t want to ruin your beauty sleep.”

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“I think you drool in your sleep.”

Ellie grinned, wandering toward her usual booth. “Missed your face,” she said quietly, almost under her breath, but it still landed straight in your chest.

You turned away before she could see the way your cheeks were heating up. You busied yourself with pouring coffee, letting the silence between you stretch long and comfortable.

Ellie watched you from the booth, her fingers drumming softly against her coffee cup. You slid a plate in front of her. Chocolate chip pancakes, scrambled eggs and crispy bacon without asking. You knew her order by heart.

“Didn’t even let me ask for it,” she said, eyeing the plate.

You shrugged, suppressing a smirk. “You’re a creature of habit.”

“Guess I am.” She poked at the eggs with her fork. “You left early.”

“I had work,” you said lightly, folding your arms across your chest. “Did you get my note?”

Her eyes flicked up to meet yours. “Yeah.” Her voice dropped, a little rougher now. “Made me smile like an idiot.” You looked away, chewing on your bottom lip.

Then she added, “I didn’t want you to leave.”

Your chest pulled tight. You couldn’t tell if it was the way she said it, soft, like it embarrassed her, or the way it made your entire body hum.

You nodded slowly, brushing your fingers over the edge of the table. “Next time I’ll wake you.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” she said, gaze still on you.

You grabbed the coffee pot and gave her a refill. “Eat your breakfast, Williams.”

She grinned, and something in your chest fluttered.

A few minutes later the bell above the door jingled again, and you turned to see a vibrant Dina striding in, hair pulled back messily, sunglasses pushed to the top of her head even though it was cloudy outside.

She spotted Ellie instantly and made a beeline for her, flopping into the booth seat in front of her. “Morning sunshine.”

“Dina,” Ellie said, not even surprised.

“Dude, I texted you like three times,” Dina said. Then she turned her head toward you, her expression lighting up. “Oh hey, you’re here too. Cute.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I mean, I kinda work here so…”

“Ha. Ha.” Dina leaned forward on the table like she was about to tell a secret. “Anyway… party at my place. It’s happening.”

“What kind of party?” Ellie asked, raising a brow.

“Massive orgy” Dina said dramatically. “Halloween. Costumes. Alcohol. Fake blood. Dozens of people”

You blinked. “Sounds like you’ll have to clean vomit off your couch for days.”

“Ew,” Dina said, nose scrunching. “You guys are disgusting. Perfect match.”

Ellie choked on her coffee.

You raised an eyebrow. “Who’s coming?”

“Well obviously you guys, Jesse, some college classmates and whoever you guys want to invite. ”

You snorted, shaking your head. “And how will we fit in your apartment may I ask?”

“I already bribed my landlord for the terrace babe,” Dina addressed, pointing a finger between you. “No excuses.”

Ellie gave her a long, dramatic sigh. “What if someone falls over and dies?”

“Well I’ll hope it’s you,” Dina snarled, throwing a piece of bacon at Ellie.

Your eyes met Ellie’s across the table. “Alright,” you said, trying not to grin. “Count us in.”

The three of you kept chatting for a bit, brainstorming halloween costumes and Dina ranting about decorations. You excused yourself as you returned to the back of the diner, continuing with your checkup and restock. 

You stacked some empty napkin boxes and double-checked stock before a soft knock interrupted your focus. It was Ellie standing in the doorframe, her slim figure silhouetted by the hallway light hovered yours as you approached her.

“I wasn’t heading out without a goodbye kiss y’know” she said with a lazy smirk, but you could hear the truth under it. She meant it.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress the stupid smile that was spreading across your face. “You know Maria banned you from being back here right?” you teased wrapping your arms around her neck.

“She doesn’t have to know I was here,” Ellie whispered like she was on a secret mission, tugging the loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Besides I have a meeting with Mr. Davis and I need emotional support.”

“Oh, Els—it’ll be fine, you doubt yourself too much. What’s the meeting about?” you asked, trying to distract her from her self sabotaging thoughts.

“He wants to show me some venues for the gallery. I told him to pick one, but he’s insisting I see them in person, so…” She murmured, her fingertips tracing small circles on your waist, grounding herself. “I’ll see you after work?” 

“I didn’t scare you off yesterday?” you mumbled quietly, pulling her closer.

She smirked, “If anything I think it made me more obsessed with you.” And with that she closed the distance between you two, pulling you in like you were the only thing keeping her sane right now. The kiss was slow, tender, but firm like she didn’t want to let go.

“Okay, enough,” you whispered breathlessly as you pulled back. “You’ll actually get me fired if Maria comes in.”

“You are no fun,” Ellie pouted. “I better get going before Mr. Davis starts blowing up my phone. I’ll see you later.”

“Byeeee,” you sang after her as she walked away, clutching her camera bag in one hand, leaving you leaning against the wall with your pulse still racing.

When you stepped back into the main dining area, the shift had picked up a bit. Two new tables filled, more coffee cups clinking. Dina was still lounging comfortably in the same booth she had previously shared with Ellie, legs stretched across the seat, scrolling through her phone like she had all the time in the world.

You raised a brow, approaching the table. “Thought you left too.”

Without looking up, she replied, “Wow. Just because I’m not Ellie, I don’t get the special treatment?”

You rolled your eyes.

“I met you way before she did, just saying,” she added, glancing up with a shit eating grin.

You snorted, grabbing the coffee pot and refilling her mug. “You want anything else, or just planning to hang around?”

“Hmm…” she tapped her finger on the table. “Surprise me. I trust you.”

You scribbled a quick note for the kitchen and leaned against the counter nearby, arms folded, as you waited. Dina took a long sip of her coffee, watching you over the rim of her mug.

“So,” she said eventually, voice just a little too casual. “You and Ellie, huh?”

You exhaled. “Dina.”

She grinned, leaning closer across the table. “Don’t Dina me. You’re glowing. Your voice has a new softness. And don’t think I didn’t notice how she disappeared back there before she left. She’s a shit liar. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

There was a pause.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, her mouth falling open dramatically. “You slept together.”

“Jesus—would keep your voice down!” you hissed, glancing at the nearby customers.

She gasped like you’d just confirmed the juiciest gossip of the year. “You did! You guys totally fucked!”

You groaned, covering your face with your hand. “Please shut up. For real.”

She leaned closer, practically bouncing in her seat. “Okay, okay, I’m calm. I’m cool. I’m chill.”

You gave her a look. She waited two whole seconds before whispering again, “So... are you, like, a thing now?”

You opened your mouth. Then closed it.

You hadn’t even asked yourself that.

Your brain scrambled, searching for the right words, for something concrete. But all you found was the way Ellie kissed you last night. The way she had looked at you. The way she held you like you were something she was afraid to lose.

And still… no label.

“We haven’t really talked about that,” you said softly.

Dina tilted her head, “Oh.”

The silence stretched for a second. And just like that, doubt started seeping in. Quietly. In the corners of your mind. You stared down at the counter, fingers tracing invisible shapes over the laminate.

What if it had just been one night? What if she regretted it? What if she didn’t want anything more?

Dina was quiet for once. She sat back a little, her teasing expression softening.

“She likes you, you know,” Dina said, “She really does, but you know Ellie. She’s just… slow sometimes. Emotionally constipated, even.”

You nodded slowly, chest tightening.

“I mean, look,” she continued, voice gentler now. “I don’t know what’s going on in her head, but I do know she doesn’t let people in easily. And the way she looks at you?”

You looked up.

“That’s not nothing.”

“I just…” you began, then stopped. Swallowed. “I don’t want to get my hopes up if we’re not on the same page.” You swallowed hard, that ache in your chest tightening. “I… don’t want to fuck this up.” 

Dina reached across the table, giving your hand a small squeeze. “Then don’t, and maybe talk to her. When you’re ready.”

You smiled weakly, lips curving into a faint smile as you turned and disappeared into the kitchen, though your heart was still a mess. Her food was ready, a stack of pancakes, hash browns, and scrambled eggs. You slid the plate onto her table a minute later, topping off her coffee. “Here.”

She clapped her hands together, dramatically gasping. “You do love me.”

You gave her a dry look. “Don’t push it.”

But she was already too deep in her own world to care. “Okay, so here’s the plan, string lights across the terrace, maybe jack-o-lanterns by the stairs, fake cobwebs if I can find any that don’t look like trash. I’m thinking spooky but not cheesy. Jesse’s on music, but I’m stealing the aux before he kills us from boredom.”

She rambled on, waving her fork for emphasis between bites of pancake.

You tried to focus. Really, you did, but your mind had wandered the second you stepped away from the table.

Ellie.

The way her lips felt on yours just half an hour ago. The way her voice had dipped when she said, “I think it made me more obsessed with you.” The way she’d kissed you like she didn’t want to let go. Like maybe she wouldn’t.

But… then again, she hadn’t said what this meant.

And neither had you.

It’s not like you could blame it on her, or you. The topic just had never come up, maybe because you were both so absorbed in each other that you didn’t even have time or space to think about it.

You swallowed hard, still standing by the booth, arms folded across your chest like a shield. Dina was talking about costume contests now. “I was thinking Lara Croft for me, or maybe cat woman, but I don’t know if it’s too basic—” Her voice sounded far away.

Your thoughts were too loud. Was this just casual?

It didn't feel casual. Not when she looked at you like that. Not when she held you like her hands were memorizing your entire body. Not when she kissed you like it was the first time and the last time all at once.

But she hadn’t said anything this morning. No “what are we now.” No “do you want more.” Just soft touches. A goodbye kiss. That smug little smile.

And you wanted to believe that was enough. Yet you couldn’t help wondering if you’d built it all up in your head.

You stared at the coffee pot behind the counter, jaw tight. It was too much to feel this much and still not know where you stood.

“Earth to you?” Dina waved her fork in front of your face.

“Huh?”

“I said,” she repeated, “you’re helping me decorate, right?”

You hesitated. “Yeah. Sure.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You good?”

You nodded automatically. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

But you weren’t.

You were spiraling, quietly. Smiling through it. Nodding at Dina while your chest felt like it was folding in on itself.

You loved that night with Ellie. You wanted more. But now that it happened, all you could think was if she wanted more too.

Dina watched you for a beat, chewing slowly, like she was considering dialing it down. “Hey,” she said softly. “Don’t spiral. If it’s eating you up that bad… you should just ask her.”

You nodded again, unsure if you meant it.

Because what if asking ruined it? What if putting it into words made it less real?

What if she didn’t want what you wanted?

On the other side of town, the air was cold and Ellie was already standing near the entrance of the building when Mr. Davis arrived, clipboard in hand, black coat neatly pressed despite the wind outside.

“Miss Williams,” he greeted, offering a handshake. “Good to see you.”

Ellie returned the gesture, adjusting the strap of her camera bag. “You can just call me Ellie, y’know.”

He chuckled. “Alright Ellie, follow me, I’ve got a few venues I’d like to show you. We’ll start with the smaller ones.”

The first place was a renovated industrial loft, with high ceilings and exposed brick walls, the windows were a plus, it gave a beautiful view of the city, but Ellie wasn’t a fan of the exposed pipelines taking away more attention than the actual photos. Mr. Davis walked a few steps ahead, pointing at various spots along the walls where the pictures might hang, already rattling off ideas.

“How’s the creative process going, by the way?” he asked over his shoulder.

Ellie shrugged slightly, walking beside him. “It’s going. Still working on the final series. I've got more photos than I know what to do with, but somehow I keep going back to the same ones.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” he said, scribbling something in his notes. “Sometimes we’re drawn to what we can’t explain. Stick with it. You’ll find the right throughline.” He glanced sideways at her. “Speaking of, I need you to prepare a speech for the exhibition, something simple, a little story about the work or what the collection represents to you.”

Ellie made a face. “God. I’d rather die.”

Mr. Davis snorted. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to be you.”

His words lingered on Ellie’s mind for a second, she didn’t have the slightest idea of what felt like her at the moment, when all her thoughts were occupied by you, and all she did and lived for was you. It felt like her mind wasn’t hers anymore, since you roamed it for months now, and her heart wasn’t hers, if it was completely beating for you.

The second venue was more polished, white walls, adjustable lighting rigs already in place. Ellie took a few notes but kept quiet, hands jammed in her hoodie pockets, eyes flicking occasionally to the glass paneled ceiling. Her mind kept drifting back to last night, to your smile, to the lingering taste of your mouth.

She shook it off.

“I think this one might be my favorite one,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, “It’s got amazing lighting, and the walls don’t take all the attention away.” 

“Wait until you see the next one dear, it’ll blow your mind.” The old man said cheerfully.

When they finally reached the third venue, Ellie’s jaw almost hit the floor. It was a wide open room with massive arched windows. The wooden floors creaked softly beneath their steps as they walked deeper inside. The place felt cozy, maybe due to the warm lighting from the chandeliers, and the curtains that separated the different areas of the venue gave it an interesting touch, almost hauntingly. Ellie admired the place with wide eyes, pulling out the camera from her bag and snapping a few shots, to show you later. 

Mr. Davis flipped to another page of his clipboard and cleared his throat.

“It has come to my attention while revising your portfolio, that there’s this girl you always take pictures of, is she a friend of yours?” Mr. Davis asked, the curious gleam in his eye seemed genuine, nothing more than polite curiosity.

However it wasn’t the question itself that struck Ellie, but the words he used. 

Friend.

 Were you? Just a friend of hers?

Her breath caught as she moved toward the windows, staring out without really seeing. What has this past month meant? Last night? How your lips were engraved on her skin forever, how your touch was the only warmth she wanted to know.

It rattled her, because she didn’t know where you both stood. 

You weren’t girlfriends, but you weren’t exactly best friends either… It had become something more than that. 

And yesterday that line had been crossed. Because how was Ellie supposed to go on about her day when she knew how you tasted on her tongue, and how her name sounded spilling out of your mouth like a prayer you only say at night. 

She stayed silent for a bit, unsure about her answer. But Mr. Davis was oblivious about the mess going on in her head.

“Yeah,” she finally spoke, voice tighter than she meant. “She's, uh…a very good friend of mine.” She sighed, walking slowly across the room, like it had the answers she desperately needed.

Mr. Davis continued talking about estimated costs and capacity, where people might stand for wine and finger food, but Ellie wasn’t really paying attention anymore. 

It scared her, where you both stood. How should she introduce you to people? 

Her best friend? girlfriend? 

She’d never been good at relationships. The last serious one in college… didn’t exactly end up great. It crashed so bad it made her swear off commitment for a while. Since then, it was casual flings, unspoken boundaries. Nothing too serious.

She hadn’t even asked you what you wanted. What this was.

What it could be.

Because this? This didn’t feel like anything she experienced before. Not when you traced her scars so carefully she forgot they were even there.

And not when she looked at you and thought, God, maybe I’d let this ruin me.

The lunch rush had ended a while ago. you were just sitting by the counter hunched over your notepad, scribbling down a list of the vendors that were due to pay. The sunlight spilled through the diner’s windows in long, syrupy streaks, casting everything in a golden haze, the warm lighting filled the room, cozy and familiar.

A few customers lingered in the booths, sipping on coffee and chatting lazily, but for the most part it was peaceful and quiet. You finished rereading your list for what seemed like the third time, because your brain was too distracted.

You hadn’t heard from Ellie since she left this morning, and while a rational part of you knew she was probably busy with venue hunting, the other part kept thinking she was avoiding you, which was stupid, and you knew it but you couldn’t help overthink it. 

You exhaled, trying to shake the thought, and pulled out your phone, clicking on her contact. Her little contact photo was some blurry pic of her flipping off the camera with a smirk. Classic Ellie.

You started typing nervously, fingers moving faster than your brain. 

“How did the venue hunting go? Wanna hang out if you’re not too tired?”

Her reply came almost immediately, as if she was waiting for you to text.

“It was fine, took some pictures to show u the one we chose. I’ll be there in 10;)”

You smiled at the screen like an idiot. And then quickly tucked your phone away before anyone could catch the stupid grin spreading on your face.

“You and that damn phone,” Maria called out, emerging from the kitchen with a knowing smirk. “I might as well ban ‘em, y’know.”

You looked up, already grinning. “Hey! I finished all my stuff. Besides, Jasmine’s always on hers too, you just happen to turn around every time I’m on a two minute phone break—”

“The difference,” Maria said, wiping her hands on her apron, “is that Jasmine’s probably scrolling through shoe sales. You? You’re over here smiling like an idiot, texting your little girlfriend.”

“She’s not—”

“Your girlfriend,” Maria interrupted, holding up her hands. “I know. I know. But she might as well stop acting like it if she doesn’t mean business, alright, hun?”

Your smile faded just slightly, replaced by something more unsure. “Do you think it’s bad we haven’t, like… talked about that? I mean—we literally had sex and—” You stopped yourself, eyes wide. “Oh my god, sorry. That is way too much information. And you’re my literal boss, so I should shut up.”

Maria let out a laugh so loud it startled the customers still nursing their coffees. It was the kind of laugh that made her eyes crinkle and her chest rise with effort.

“Oh, honey,” she said, wiping the tears coming from her eyes. “I think we’re way past that.” She leaned against the counter, still smiling. “Look, my advice? Talk about it. Clear that shit up before you get in too deep. The sooner the better”

“Yeah, maybe. But… seriously, thank you. I just—I dunno. I guess I needed to hear that.”

Maria’s expression softened. She reached across the counter, and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “I don’t want to see you hurtin’, sweetheart. Just promise me you’ll figure it out. Maybe not right away, but eventually.”

You nodded, your voice quieter now. “Yeah. I will. I promise.”

The bell above the door jingled and Maria’s gaze flicked toward the entrance.

“Speaking of the devil…” she murmured.

Ellie walked in, her hoodie sleeves pushed halfway up, camera bag slung over her shoulder like always. Her eyes found yours instantly, and that familiar crooked smile tugged at her lips.

“Hey, you,” she said as she reached your side, ruffling your hair playfully. “Miss me?”

You winced, batting her hand away. “Not the hair, come on.”

Maria smirked and started backing toward the kitchen. “I’ll leave you two to it. Oh—and don’t forget to call the vendors tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, boss…” you sang after her.

As soon as she was gone, Ellie turned to you, rubbing a bit of sleep from her eyes. “You ready?”

“Just lemme grab my bag,” you said, slipping behind the counter and ducking into the back. You returned with your jacket and a small brown paper bag in hand.

“What’s that?” Ellie asked as you both stepped out into the crisp evening.

“Leftovers. Maria told me to take the food or she’d haunt my dreams.”

Ellie grinned, reaching out to take the bag as the two of you approached her truck parked just across the street. You climbed into the passenger seat, the door creaking slightly as it shut behind you. Ellie tossed her camera bag in the backseat, set the food carefully between you both, and turned the keys.

The engine rumbled to life, and the stereo crackled with music already queued up, some mellow indie track giving way to a low, thumping beat.

Ellie cranked the volume just a little as you buckled in, one arm resting on the open window, the wind already tugging at loose strands of your hair.

She glanced over at you with a lazy smile, like everything about this moment was right.

“I love when it’s this quiet out,” she said. “Sunset and a cute girl in my passenger seat.”

You turned your head, biting back a grin. “You’re an idiot.”

“Don’t act like you’re not eating it up.”

You were.

And as the truck pulled away from the diner, the sky bleeding warm oranges and fading pinks, all the noise in your head dimmed just a little.

The ride to your apartment was calm and quiet, the comfortable and familiar type of quiet, Ellie hummed along to the music, fingers tapping the steering wheel, and every now and then you’d catch her glancing sideways at you, quick and subtle, but it always left your stomach fluttering.

You unlocked the door with one swift motion, Ellie followed you in, immediately kicking off her boots and shedding her hoodie, leaving her in a black tank and worn jeans that hugged just right. You tried not to stare, but failed miserably.

The apartment was dim, cozy. A candle flickered low on the coffee table, meaning Sally was home already, and the smell of cinnamon and garlic from the food filled the air. 

“Wanna see the venue pictures I took?” Ellie asked, her hand resting lightly on your waist as you made your way toward the table.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go to my room so you can use my laptop,” you replied, grabbing the food containers and leading her into your bedroom.

Ellie plugged her camera into the laptop, downloading the photos while you changed into something more comfortable, a mismatched pajama set, soft shorts and a worn in tank top. You settled onto the bed, sitting cross legged beside her, and handed her one of the plastic forks Maria had packed. The two of you dug into your food as Ellie scrolled through the pictures, pointing out angles, potential framing spots, and where her photos would hang.

Her voice was full of excitement. Animated, bright. It made you giddy, watching her speak about something she loved so much. 

“What do you think? Be honest.”

“I think it’s perfect,” you said, voice soft. “It’s kinda eerie in a cool way. Like… hauntingly cool.”

“My exact thoughts,” she said, grinning wide. “All the other places were just bland brick boxes with industrial lighting. Made my head hurt.”

“I think this one suits your style perfectly.”

Ellie nudged you gently. “That a compliment?”

“Take it before I take it back.”

She grinned, but her expression softened when you stayed close, chin still tucked near her shoulder. You could feel the heat radiating off her skin.

The next few pictures passed in silence, her hand casually resting near yours, your thighs touching. Eventually, she closed the folder, and the desktop stared back at you both.

“So…” she said slowly. “Dina’s party.”

You sat up a bit. “Right. You have any idea what you’re dressing up as?”

“I don’t think I’ve dressed up for halloween since i was like thirteen.”

You groaned. “You’re so boring.”

Ellie shrugged. “Yeah. Yeah, but my costumes were the shit. Best dressed always.” She started swiping through her gallery, then turned the screen toward you. “Dino Ellie. Age six.”

You squinted at the image, a younger version of her in a massive green foam dinosaur suit, her face barely visible through the mouth of the costume. Her expression was all attitude, her little freckled nose scrunched up, hands on her hips, like she was king of the Jurassic world.

You lost it.

“No way. That’s the cutest photo I’ve ever seen.”

She chuckled. “I wore that three years in a row. Joel was like, ‘You sure you don’t want to try something new?’ and I was like, ‘Dinosaurs are cool forever.’”

You wiped a tear from the corner of your eye, still laughing. “Stubborn since birth I see.”

“Oh, I’m not done.” She flipped to another one, this time she was in a diy astronaut costume, duct tape and a cardboard box mimicking the astronaut gear.

“Is that a motorcycle helmet?”

“Tommy borrowed it for my costume. I took it very seriously.”

You were still giggling when you closed your laptop and tossed it to the side. “Okay, okay, my turn.” you said, grinning. “I’m pulling up my old costume photos. Prepare to be amazed.”

Ellie perked up. “Oh, hell yeah.”

You clicked through a few folders and found a picture from when you were eight, dressed in a sparkly witch costume, complete with a lopsided hat and your face covered in green glitter.

“Oh my god,” Ellie said, leaning in with wide eyes. “You were so serious about that spellcasting.”

“I did,” you said, smug. “Halloween was sacred.”

Then another picture, it was you wearing a skeleton onesie, you were probably like five years old, your mom had painted your face like a skull too, and you were smiling so big, basket full of candy.

“I’m going to cry, you were so cute.”

“Were?” you questioned, brows knitted, but the smile on your face gave you up.

“Are. Obviously.”

“Okay, okay enough of the baby pictures, we need to focus. What the fuck are we dressing up as?” You said as you opened a new tab and typed in halloween costume ideas.

“Wait you’re serious about dressing up?” Ellie asked.

“Duh. It’s Halloween, come on it will be fun, we can do matching costumes.”

“Like what?”

“Raven and Beast boy?”

“Yeah no. I’m not painting my face green.”

“Ughh party pooper” you made a dramatic groaning noise and flopped back on your bed, arm thrown over your eyes. “How about pirates? It’s easy.”

“And basic. Everyone is a pirate.” Ellie said, rolling her eyes, face smug.

“You’re impossible. What do you suggest then?”  you teased, nudging her leg with your foot. 

“You ever watched adventure time?”

“Every gay kid watched adventure time I think.”

“Yeah exactly, we could be Marceline and princess bubblegum—I’d be Marceline obviously.” Ellie peeked at you from under her arm, smirking. “And you could totally pull off the whole ‘pink nerdy princess’ thing.”

You stared at her, heat rushing to your face. “That’s… actually genius.”

Ellie shifted beside you, leaning back against the headboard, arms stretched behind her head. “Obviously, It’d be cute.”

“You think we’d be cute?”

She gave you that infuriating half smile. “I know we would.”

Your stomach flipped. Again. And just like that, the tension that had been bubbling in your chest all day started to soften. All the overthinking and wondering of what this was faded away. Replaced by the image of her lying down beside you, shoulders brushing, her fingers grazing your arm slightly, warm and gently. Normal. 

Just you and her.

You looked over at her, trying to bite back the smile creeping up your face, but Ellie was already watching you, eyes lazy and soft under the glow of your bedside lamp. She didn’t say a word. 

And then, like a devil possessed her, she lunged.

Her fingers dug into your sides, fast and merciless. You shrieked.

“NO—not again Ellie! You know I’m—ticklish.” you gasped, half laughing, half pleading, trying to twist away from her grasp.

Ellie cackled as you writhed beneath her. “Huh? Sorry, I can’t hear you.”

“Ellie pleasee!” you choked out between laughs, eyes watering, clutching her wrist in a weak attempt to save yourself.

Her fingers found your ribs and you damn near screamed.

But suddenly (and thankfully) she stopped. Her body still hovering above yours, breathing a little heavier now, strands of auburn hair falling over her face, while her hands rested gently at your waist, no longer playful. Just…there. Steady.

Her eyes found yours and stayed there. Locked in your gaze, like if she looked away you might vanish into thin air under her grasp. And then, the room got very, very quiet again.

You were both breathless, and she was grinning like the devil, the soft curve of her smile was all you could focus on, until she leaned down slowly and kissed you. 

Naturally, the kiss deepened, her body melting into yours, the moment slowing down like the world outside no longer existed. She pulled back just an inch, nose brushing against yours.

“I should go,” she whispered, voice husky. “You’ve got work tomorrow.”

You looked up at her, eyes half lidded, chest rising and falling beneath her.

“…or,” you said quietly, “maybe you could stay.”

Ellie blinked. “Yeah?”

You nodded, barely more than a breath. “Yeah. Just sleep. Just… stay.”

Her lips curved into a smile, and she kissed you again. This time slower, and sweeter, like she had been waiting for you to make the call. 

“Alright,” she whispered against your lips. “I’ll stay.”

Ellie kicked off her jeans at the foot of the bed, folding them neatly and placing them on top of your chair, flopping back onto the mattress in just her black tank and boxers, arms splayed like a starfish.

You stood by your dresser, slipping into your comfiest pajama shorts and an oversized tee. You caught her eyes trailing lazily over you in the mirror, her gaze unapologetic.

“What?” you said, grinning.

Ellie raised her brows, folding her arms behind her head. “Nothin’. Just appreciating the view.” You threw a pillow at her. She caught it effortlessly and tucked it under her head like she hadn’t just said something that turned your whole body to static.

You made your way to the bathroom and opened the cabinet above the sink. Ellie’s toothbrush was still there. Blue with green stripes, a little chunk missing from the handle, the result of some accidental chewing incident she blamed on “deep focus.”

You held it up, peeking back toward your bedroom. “Still using this one?”

“Unless you’re offering yours,” Ellie called back. 

You laughed and passed it to her when she stepped into the doorway, hair a little tousled, tank clinging to her frame. She looked so at ease here, so at home, it made something in your chest bloom.

Both of you brushed your teeth side by side, bumping shoulders occasionally, smiling through minty white foam. It was a quiet kind of intimacy, the type that wrapped around you like a blanket and said you’re safe here.

After rinsing off and wiping down the sink, you flicked off the light and returned to your room. Ellie was already curled on the side of the bed she assigned as hers, one arm thrown casually over your pillow, waiting.

You slid in beside her and didn’t even have to ask, her arms were already there, pulling you in close, her body warm against yours.

For a few minutes, it was just breathing. The soft hum of the night outside. Your fingers trailing gentle patterns on her bare shoulder. Then Ellie spoke, voice low in the dark.

“So…” she started, dragging the syllable out, “last night.”

You snorted into her collarbone. “What about it?”

She hesitated for a beat, then said, “It was… really fucking good.”

Your cheeks burned. “Mhm?”

“You’re unreal, a figment of my imagination probably.”

You pulled back just enough to look at her, to meet her eyes in the faint moonlight that leaked through your window.

“Your imagination is a little fucked up then” you said, lips twitching. 

“Oh yeah?” she scoffed. “I wonder what was going through your imagination huh.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Mmm I guess we’ll never know will we?”

She grinned and leaned in to kiss you again, and everytime she kissed you it was like she couldn’t get enough of it. Of you. Of your taste, and your soft lips, and the sweet sounds you made when her tongue slipped past yours. 

After a long pause, you settled against her again, resting your head on her chest. You could hear her heartbeat, steady and solid beneath your cheek. Neither of you said anything else about what last night meant. About what this was. And maybe for now it’s how it’s meant to be. Like a secret you both are too scared to tell. 

You just laid there, wrapped up in each other, her fingertips drawing shapes on your back, and your arm slung over her waist. Sleep crept in eventually, your last thoughts were of the way her breath hitched when you kissed her collarbone, the look on her face when you showed her your childhood costume, the stupid grin she wore when she saw you at the diner that morning.

You fell asleep like that, limbs tangled and exhausted. 

The next morning was a blur, your alarm woke you first, pressing snooze as you laid back down rubbing your hands on your face, when you realized Ellie was lying peacefully beside you, the soft curls that formed on her temple fell beautifully over her face, framing each feature so softly. She looked like an angel. You tried not to move so harshly, to breathe so loudly… But then your alarm went off like a fire drill once again, slicing through the softness.

You groaned immediately. “Fuck—”

Ellie groaned louder. “Five more minutes, please. Please. I’m begging.”

You reached for your phone with one arm still wrapped around her. “Maria will murder me if I’m late. She’ll actually gut me and feed me to the dishwasher.”

Ellie clung tighter to you. “Let her. We lived good lives.”

You tried to wiggle out of her arms. “C’mon, I’ll be fast. You can go back to sleep while I get ready.”

She loosened her grip just slightly, flopping dramatically back against the pillow. “You better come back and kiss me before you leave or I’ll die.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, climbing out of bed and stretching your arms over your head. You could feel Ellie’s eyes on you.

“You’re staring.”

“You’re stretching in tiny shorts. I’m not made of stone.”

You grabbed your uniform from the dresser, trying to hide your blush as you shuffled to the bathroom. From inside, you could still hear Ellie grumble into your sheets.

By the time you came back out, showered, dressed and bag packed, Ellie was completely knocked out again, her face buried in your pillow, one arm stretched toward the side you’d vacated.

You paused at the door, heart full and aching and soft, and tiptoed back to press a kiss to her temple. “I left my keys on the counter,” you whispered. “Lock up when you leave and bring them to the diner.”

She didn’t stir, just exhaled a soft sigh and turned slightly in her sleep, mumbling your name like it was a dream.

You closed the door behind you, still smiling. Still dizzy from her.

A couple hours later, Ellie finally stirred awake, her limbs were all tangled on your bedsheets, and the weight and warmth of you was long gone by now. Only the faint trace of your perfume lingered in the air, clinging to the pillowcase. She rubbed the sleep off her eyes and blindly reached for her phone sitting on the nightstand, a couple texts from Jesse and Dina, and you, reminding her about the keys. 

With a groggy sigh, Ellie sat up, dragged herself out of bed, and padded out of your room in nothing but her black underwear and a wrinkled tank top. She headed toward the bathroom down the hall, still half-asleep.

But just as she rounded the corner, she froze.

Sitting at the kitchen counter with a steaming mug of tea in hand, was your roommate Sally, hunched over her phone, scrolling lazily. Until she looked up and caught sight of Ellie. She blinked, then nearly spit her drink out.

“Rough night, huh?” Sally said, coughing lightly behind her mug.

Ellie’s eyes went wide. That’s when it hit her, she was basically naked.

“Shit—sorry! I thought you weren’t here,” she blurted, instinctively covering her underwear with her arms as her face went beet red.

Sally raised an eyebrow and took a long, unimpressed sip. “Clearly.”

Ellie hovered awkwardly by the wall. “I—yeah, I stayed the night, but we didn’t—like, it wasn’t—”

Sally held up a hand, already shaking her head. “Relax. None of my business what you two do. Just saying… maybe stash a spare set of pajamas in her drawer next time.”

Ellie let out a breathy, nervous laugh, eyes darting down to her bare legs. “Yeah. Good idea. Sorry about that.”

Sally set her mug aside and gave Ellie a long, considering look. “So,” she said casually, “it’s getting serious, I assume? You and her.”

Ellie blinked. “Uh… I mean, I think so?”

“You think so?” Sally raised an eyebrow.

“I—yeah. Yeah. I mean, I hope so,” Ellie said, scratching the back of her neck. “I really like her.”

“Good.” Sally nodded slowly, leaning an elbow on the counter,  “I’m just saying, I’m very protective of her. She’s like the little sister I never had.”

“I know,” Ellie said quietly. “I’m not messing around. I care about her. A lot.”

“She cares about you too, y’know,” Sally said, standing up and grabbing her bag from the hook by the door. “So don’t be an idiot.”

“I won’t.”

“Good,” Sally said, walking to the door. She opened it, then paused to glance back over her shoulder.

“Because if you hurt her, I’ll skin you alive.”

Ellie blinked. “Noted.”

“And lock the door when you leave,” Sally added, stepping out. “She left her keys on the counter.”

The door clicked shut behind her and Ellie let out a long breath she didn’t know she was holding, and ran both hands down her face.

“Jesus fucking christ.” She mumbled to herself, finally making her way to the bathroom, still half dressed and mortified, and also slightly terrified of Sally.

The days that followed blurred into a quiet turmoil.

Ellie threw herself headfirst into the gallery prep; shooting, printing, editing, arranging, emailing, pacing, doubting, overthinking. She barely slept. Her studio became a mess of contact sheets and crumbled prints on the floor. You dropped off takeout more than once, sitting on her couch while she worked in silence, only breaking it to say things like “Do you think this one’s too on the nose?” or “What if no one shows up?”

You reassured her every time, and she’d smile—soft and crooked, but the anxiety didn’t really leave her eyes.

Meanwhile, your schedule had become its own kind of madness. The diner was short staffed again, and you were picking up extra shifts, even if it wasn’t on your tasks, it helped you keep yourself busy. By the time you got home, your feet were aching and your back felt like it had aged ten years. Sometimes, Ellie would pass to say hi, but she always ended up passing out on your couch with her laptop still open on her chest. Other times, you missed her entirely, your hours never quite lining up.

Still, there were small moments.

A shared smoke break on the back of the diner. A lazy dinner eaten cross legged on the floor. A half-asleep kiss on the cheek before either of you could fully register it happened. And the mornings—those rare mornings, when you both woke up in the same bed, tangled and warm, the world quiet around you.

But still…No, what are we? No real talk about anything that mattered. Just small gestures, and nothin’ else.

You noticed it more in the silences. Silences that made your mind get too loud. Like the time you were folding laundry in the living room with Sally..

“She hasn’t been over lately,” she said, not looking up from the shirt she was folding. “Everything alright between you two?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, she’s probably just busy with the gallery y’know.”

“You happy?” she asked.

“Yeah. I think so.” You hesitated. “I think we’re both just… scared,” you admitted. “Or waiting. Or hoping the other person says something first.”

“You should talk to her,” Sally said, sliding the neatly folded clothes into a basket. “Like, for real. Before one of you implodes from emotional repression or whatever.”

You threw a sock at her head. “Thanks, Dr. Phil.” You changed the subject after that. But her words stuck.

By the end of the month, a new kind of energy was creeping in. October was drawing to a close, the cold was getting sharper, and Dina had gone feral about her Halloween party plans.

Your phone buzzed with a text from her while you were mid-shift.

“GET YOUR SEXY ASS HERE TOMORROW AT 6PM. NEED HELP WITH DECORATIONS. COSTUMES MANDATORY!!! also remind Ellie. I already told her but she ignores me when she's stressed.”

You laughed and texted back a quick ‘yes ma’am’, and a second message, ‘I’ll remind her. Promise.’

Ellie didn’t answer right away when you texted her that afternoon. You assumed she was drowning in gallery stuff again. But it left you with a familiar ache in your chest, one that had been persistent for the last couple weeks. 

Ellie sat cross-legged on the floor of her studio, surrounded by prints. Dozens of them. Test shots, alternates, ones she swore were decent three days ago and now couldn’t even look at without cringing.The overhead light buzzed. Her laptop fan sounded like a jet engine. There were three empty tea cups on the windowsill and a half-eaten granola bar melting into the  corner of her sketchpad.

She dragged both hands down her face and muttered into her palms, “This is fucking garbage.”

She stood up, grabbed a 16x20 she’d printed yesterday, a soft portrait of an older woman watering plants, sunlight slicing through the glass behind her—and held it at arm’s length. It looked wrong. Staged and meaningless.

Ellie groaned and tossed it onto the growing pile of discarded “maybe’s” in the corner.

None of it was working. Not the angles, not the light, not the message. She’d had a vision a few weeks ago, something about capturing small, quiet moments of care and connection, but now all of it felt stupid. Disconnected. Too literal or too soft or too obvious.

She hadn’t slept more than four hours in two days. Every time she closed her eyes, her brain screamed about editing, deadlines, how fucking expensive it all was, and—

You.

She missed you. In the worst, most vulnerable, aching kind of way.

It wasn’t just that she missed your voice or your hands or the way you always brought her snacks without asking. It was that she missed feeling understood. The way you made her feel like being messy didn’t mean being unworthy. That even when she was overwhelmed and distracted, you still looked at her like she mattered.

But that’s what made it worse.

Because since that conversation with Sally, Ellie hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what this was. What you were. What she was to you.

And if she was even good enough for any of it.

You deserved someone who didn’t cancel plans because of panic attacks over light metering. Someone who texted back faster than twelve hours. Someone who didn’t need to be reminded to show up for you.

The guilt coiled hot in her stomach.

She picked up another photo and stared at it blankly. It was a candid you took of her, camera in hand, brows furrowed, that little crease between them deep with focus. She looked exhausted.

Her phone buzzed from somewhere under a stack of notebooks. She dug it out, blinking at the screen. 

It was a text from you, reminding her about Dina’s party tomorrow. She stared at the message for a full ten seconds. “Tomorrow?” she whispered.

She checked the date. Then double-checked.

“Fuck. Fuck.”

She scrambled to her feet, knocking over a cup, nearly stepping on a lens cap.

She hadn’t finished editing her selects. She hadn’t written the blurbs. She hadn’t even thought about her costume.

You were going to kill her.

No—worse. You were going to be disappointed in her. And that, somehow, was so much worse than being mad.

She fired back a quick “yup got my costume ready.” Lie. She just threw her phone onto the couch, and started frantically digging through her closet for anything vaguely vampire-like.

The photo prints stared up at her from the floor. Mocking her. She needed a break desperately. 

The sun was already dipping behind the rooftops by the time you made it to Dina’s.

The terrace was partly adorned with plastic bats, tangled string lights, poorly carved pumpkins and a sad fog machine that wheezed like it had asthma. Jesse was crouched over a power strip with a screwdriver and a grimace. Dina was flitting between the small kitchen area and the outdoor table, waving around bags of snacks and drinks. 

You dropped your tote by the railing and rolled up your sleeves. “Put me to work, boss.”

“Thank god,” Dina said, practically shoving a pile of fake cobwebs into your arms. “Jesse keeps trying to make the lighting ‘thematic’ and now the bathroom looks actually haunted.”

“You should be grateful someone’s out here helping you,” Jesse said from the floor.

“And you should be grateful I even let you in,” Dina shot back.

You stifled a laugh and got to work, stretching the fake cobwebs over the railing, adjusting paper lanterns, taping plastic spiders in little clusters by the drink table. You moved quickly, keeping your hands busy, trying to drown out the quiet buzz of anxiety that had started somewhere in your ribs and refused to leave.

Ellie hadn’t texted again. You tried not to take it personally. She was swamped, probably losing her mind over work. You knew that. She’d told you that.

Still, it sucked not hearing much from her.

You two hadn’t been hanging out as much as before, except for those few times one of you would crash at the other’s, or small unexpected visits, but other than that there was silence, half answered texts, or waiting for a callback. But the silence felt like a door half-closed. Like a draft you couldn’t quite place.

“Costume time babyyyy,” Dina called suddenly, snapping you out of it. “Time to get dressed, remind me what are you dressing up as?.”

You rolled your eyes. “I already told you like a million times, princess bubblegum, from adventure time?”

“And Ellie’s supposed to be Marceline?” She blinked at you teasing.

“Yeah, if she even shows up.” you replied, your tone coming out more gloomy than you expected.

“She will, I would kill her if she didn’t.” Dina said with a reassuring hand to the shoulder.  “Alright let’s get dressed!”

Both of you ducked into her bedroom and started changing. The bubblegum pink mini dress clung in the right places—tight at the waist, flaring slightly at the bottom. Long and bell shaped sleeves, giving it a whimsy vibe, along with the glitter embedded in the fabric. It made you feel like a sugar cube. 

You slid up the pink thigh-high stockings carefully trying not to rip them apart, and slipped into the white boots Sally borrowed you for the night. 

The long, pastel-pink wig had taken you three tries and Dina’s help to get right. The synthetic hair tickled your collarbone as you leaned in, pushing the bangs gently to one side. It looked okay now. A little over the top. But that was kind of the point.

You reached for the bright yellow foam crown, and perched it carefully on your head. Tilted slightly. Like she wore it.

You stepped back out, adjusting your sleeves.

Dina’s eyes lit up. “Okay, damn. You’re gonna give that poor girl a heart attack.”

You smiled, but it felt tight. “Let’s hope she shows up.”

“She will,” Dina said. “Ellie’s not an idiot.”

You raised a brow. “Debatable.”

It was already dark when people started showing up, some in full costume, some in lazy afterthoughts, a few already tipsy from wherever they'd pregamed. The terrace lights glowed warm above your heads, flickering slightly from Jesse’s earlier “repair.” 

You were three sips into a mystery punch that probably had too much vodka when Dina nudged your arm. “Look who’s here.”

You turned, heart kicking up, and you saw her.

Ellie stepped through the sliding door, a little late, giving strangers a half smile as she weaved through the crowd toward you. She was wearing an oversized gray tank that had the edges torn, her black sports bra peeking from the sides, paired with worn denim jeans and her old red chucks. She looked effortlessly cool, like she didn’t even try. And somehow that made your cheeks burn hotter.

“Hey, Princess,” she murmured, voice soft as she reached you. “Sorry I’m late, I got caught up with some stuff and—”

“It’s okay, Els,” you cut in gently. “Better late than never, right?”

And just like that, the knot in your throat loosened. The anxiety that had been sitting in your chest all evening slipped quietly away. She was here and that was enough.

“Come on, lemme get you something to drink,” you said, grabbing her hand and guiding her toward the makeshift mini bar. “But don’t ask what it is. Jesse made it.”

“Oh so we are fucked…” she sighed dramatically, grabbing one of the red cups. The first sip made her wince, whole face contorted on instinct. Sweet at first, like cherry soda, maybe strawberry, but then the burn kicked in, sharp and unmistakably vodka soaked. It hit the back of her throat like a surprise slap, she swallowed hard, coughing once.

“What the fuck is in this?” she asked, nose scrunching like she licked battery acid.

You laughed. “You get used to it. Third sip did it for me.”

Ellie looked at you, eyes softening a little. “You look beautiful, by the way.” She said quietly.

You blinked. “Wow. Drink’s already kicking in, huh?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m serious. You look… really nice.”

Your heart did a dumb little flutter. You glanced away, trying not to grin too hard.

“Well,” you said, bumping her with your shoulder, “you’re not so bad yourself, Marceline.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go dance or whatever you do at these parties.” 

“Oh, I thought you were more into trick or treating.” You teased, batting your lashes at her.

“Nah I quitted when I got tooth decay so…” She joked, sliding one arm around your shoulders, walking through the crowd together.

The night blurred in warm pulses, drinking games, Ellie and Jesse arguing over the music choices, bass vibrating through the floorboards, voices overlapping, neon lights casting everything in a multi-colored haze. You were definitely tipsy now, your fourth drink working its magic somewhere behind your eyes, loosening your limbs and untangling your nerves.

You were sitting with a group of Dina’s college friends while Ellie disappeared into the bar to grab another drink, maybe water this time, she’d said. You’d nodded, letting her go with a gentle squeeze to her hand. 

Dina emerged from the crowd, spotting you instantly and grabbing your arm, laughing. “Come dance with us. Sally is drunker than I am right now.”

You let her pull you in, spinning into a mess of limbs and laughter. Sally was already dancing with a couple of Dina’s friends, some theatre majors dressed like Dracula and a girl with fangs and glitter tears. You slipped easily into the circle, smiling, letting your hips sway to the beat. You tossed your hair back and giggled when Sally bumped her hip against yours.

It was like that for a few minutes, all of you dancing with each other, without shame or care, until you turned to adjust your crown, and felt someone brush against your side—too close. A guy you didn’t recognize, dressed like some half-assed cowboy with a paper badge stuck to his chest.

“You’ve got moves,” he said, leaning in.

You offered a polite smile. “Alright.”

“Wanna bounce somewhere quieter?” he asked, eyes trailing down your legs.

Your smile dropped. “I would rather jump from the railings.”

“You play hard to get,” he said, stepping closer. “I like that.”

You stepped back. “Go fuck yourself please.”

He smirked. “Aw, come on, you don’t gotta be such a bitch about it.”

You turned to walk away, face flushed in anger, but his hand shot out and caught your arm.

That’s when everything froze. Because suddenly Ellie was there, moving fast, voice sharp and low as a blade.

“She told you to fuck off man.” she barked, pushing him away from you.

The guy flinched, startled. “Whoa, chill—”

Ellie slapped his hand away and stepped between you. “I said fuck off.”

The guy held his hands up and backed away, muttering something under his breath, but Ellie wasn’t listening. She was already turning to you, eyes scanning your face like she wasn’t sure you were really okay.

“Come on,” she said, voice tight. “Let’s get out of here.”

Ellie led you to a quieter corner of the terrace, somewhere near the back, where the music dulled to a low thump. A few people were already passed out on beanbags, and a couple others murmured softly in conversation, draped in costumes and shadows.

“You okay?” she asked, brows furrowed as her eyes searched your face for anything off.

“I’m fine,” you said with a lazy shrug, your voice warm and slow from all the drinks. “Y’know I can defend myself.”

She gave you a look, unconvinced.

You grinned, leaning closer. “That was kinda hot though.”

Ellie blinked. “What?”

“You gettin’ all protective and shit.” You let your arms drape loosely around her neck. “Kinda does it f’me.”

Ellie let out a short breath, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “It does?”

“It’s cute how you get all jealous and mad,” you teased, tilting your head.

She narrowed her eyes playfully. “You’re full of shit.”

“Maybe I am,” you whispered, and before either of you could think better of it, you leaned in, lips crashing into hers, messy and hungry. She kissed you back instantly, pulling you in, her hands sliding over the curve of your waist like she needed to anchor herself.

You tugged at her tank top, lips still on hers, and murmured between kisses, “Come with me.”

“Where?” she asked, barely above a breath.

You didn’t answer, just grabbed her hand and led her through the hallway, past the kitchen, weaving around bodies and noise until you reached the upstairs bathroom. You turned the knob and sighed with relief when it clicked open.

The door shut behind you as you pulled Ellie inside, and the second it clicked shut, her mouth crashed into yours like she was drowning and you were the only breath she could find. Your back hit the bathroom sink with a thud, her hands gripping your waist like she needed to feel every inch of you to make sure you were really there, really hers.

Ellie pulled you closer gasping into your mouth, sliding her hands under the hem of your glittery pink dress, fingers skimming up your thighs, thumbs dragging across the sheer band of your stockings. not quite touching where you wanted her yet, but close. Too close.

Fingers tugged at her tank top, curling into the thin fabric, feeling the heat of her skin beneath it. Her body pressed flush against yours, the hardness of her jeans rough against your stockings. The moan that escaped your mouth drowned in her own, and that was all the encouragement she needed to press you harder against the sink—knee slotting between your legs. 

You gasped, arms wrapping around her neck, fingers tangling into the soft, auburn strands at the base of her neck. She kissed you with a fierceness that spilled out in the way her teeth caught your bottom lip, how her tongue moved with messy purpose, how she pulled back just to breathe you in, her eyes darkened.

“God,” she whispered, dragging her lips across your jaw. “You taste so fucking good.”

You tilted your head back, letting her mouth explore your neck—wet, open-mouthed kisses pressed to your pulse point, your collarbone, your shoulder. Every touch sent sparks through your skin, your whole body leaning into her like gravity wasn’t even a choice anymore.

Her hands found your waist again, pushing the fabric of your dress higher. Her thumbs pressed into the soft skin above your hips, fingers sliding under the hem of your panties just enough to make you lose track of your breath.

“Ellie,” you breathed, the sound barely holding together.

She groaned at the way you said her name, deep and quiet, like it meant something. Her lips crashed back to yours, hungrier now. Desperate. Her fingers tightened where they held you like she couldn’t get close enough, like she needed you inside her bones.

You couldn’t keep your hands off of her, roaming up her torso, dragging your nails along her ribs, fingers dipping beneath the edge of her sports bra just to feel the heat of her skin. She shivered at your touch, hips grinding softly against yours in a rhythm that made your knees tremble.

The room felt like it was spinning. Music thudding faintly through the walls, the taste of cherry vodka and her breath on your tongue, the smell of sweat and perfume and want. Her thigh pressed harder between your legs and you moaned, clinging to her.

She pulled away to look at you, at how you were crumbling under her touch, but all you could do was stare at her—hypnotized, you could notice every little detail on her face, her dilated pupils, the freckles you would never get tired of kissing, the little scar on her brow. You were looking at her like she was something precious. Your lips brushed against hers again, softer now, and without thinking—the words slipped from the tip of your tongue. Like a prayer, a plea, you whispered it. “I fuckin’ love you.”

You mumbled, almost incoherent. Drenched in heat and alcohol and truth. You held the words for a second, waiting for something, anything. The vodka in your system had given you the value, but could she give you the answer? The meaning of all of it, of the past few months? 

Ellie stilled. It wasn’t obvious. Just a shift in the way her mouth paused against yours. You had caught her off guard, her breath hitched—slightly, but you felt it. Like someone had pulled a string taut between your ribs and let it go.

You blinked—once, twice and still not a single sound came out from her, her eyes were avoiding yours, and like a shock wave, you realized the weight of the situation, of the confession you just spilled, and maybe both of you were too drunk for it.

Suddenly, the door thudded heavily, ‘BANG BANG BANG’

You barely had time to gather yourself before Ellie instinctively walked toward the bathroom door and opened it, only to freeze.

And there she was…Sally. Crying.

Mascara ran down her cheeks in black streaks, her breath coming in sharp, hiccupping sobs. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, shoulders shaking as if she'd sprinted through a storm.

“Sally?” you said, startled. “What happened? Are you—”

She didn’t let you finish. She stepped forward and hugged you hard, burying her face into your shoulder.

“He–he was kissing another girl,” she choked out, sobbing. “In front of my face, who the fuck does that?”

You blinked, the last of the alcohol draining from your system like someone had ripped a plug out of you.

Wait. Sally’s boyfriend. Had just cheated on her. 

You were fully conscious now. “Are you fucking serious?” you snapped, arms tightening around her. “That piece of shit. I’m going to kill that motherfucker.”

She sobbed harder. You pet her hair gently, holding her close. “You wanna leave?” you asked softly. She nodded against you without lifting her head.

“I can give you guys a ride,” Ellie said suddenly from behind you. “It’s late.”

You turned, blinking at her.

“You sure? We could just Uber—”

“No,” she said quickly, tugging at her earlobe the way she always did when she was anxious. “It’s fine. I’ll drive.”

You nodded, and made your way out of the bathroom, collecting your bag and Sally’s from where you had left it at Dina’s living room earlier.

The ride home was quiet.

You sat in the backseat with Sally curled into your side, your arm wrapped protectively around her as she continued to cry softly into your shoulder. You whispered whatever comfort came to mind. Little nothings like “you’re okay,” and “he’s an asshole,” and “we’re almost home,” even though none of them felt like enough.

Ellie drove in silence. But her mind was louder than it ever had been. Her hands stayed firmly on the wheel, eyes fixed on the road, expression unreadable under the dim dashboard light. Every few minutes her eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror, but she never said anything. Never stared too long.

The feeling bubbling up in her chest was overwhelming. She didn’t know what to say, or exactly what to do. She was thrown back, confused. Did you mean what you said back there? Was it just the heat of the moment? She couldn’t even process it right now. 

You, on the other hand, were focused on Sally, and taking care of her. Your poor heartbroken roommate sobbing into your lap. You couldn’t afford to think about what happened before she stormed crying to the bathroom. Not yet.

So you focused on her instead. On being steady. On pretending your throat didn’t still burn with the words that had been sitting on your chest for too long. On pretending that the silence that followed after was killing you. 

Ellie pulled up in front of the apartment, headlights casting long shadows across the lawn. “We’re here,” she said quietly, tapping the gear shift into park.

You nodded, unbuckling your seatbelt. Sally stirred beside you, blinking slowly.  “Come on, Sal,” you whispered to her gently. “We’re home.”

She sniffled and let you help her out of the car, still leaning against you like her bones couldn’t quite hold her up on their own. You guided her toward the door, glancing back once, just as Ellie stepped out of the driver’s seat.

She stayed by the truck, hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jeans, eyes not quite meeting yours.

“I’ll… talk to you later?” you said, voice low. Too careful. 

“Yeah, sure.” Ellie said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. 

You waited a second. Just in case. Just in case she’d say anything else—but she didn’t.

“Night Els.” You muttered, trying to meet her gaze but she didn’t.

“Goodnight.”

You walked Sally inside. Shutting the door behind you. And that was that.

She watched the apartment door close behind you. Without moving, like a marble statue that was cold to the touch, with her hands still buried in her pockets, and her heart thudding aggressively. 

Fuck she should’ve said something else. Anything. But she just watched you disappear behind the door, watched the light dim from your eyes as poured your heart out to her and she didn’t answer. She just froze.

After all of that. After your lips on hers, after your eyes searched hers, quietly asking if she felt it too.

And she did. God, she fucking did. But she couldn’t say it. Didn’t know how. Didn’t trust herself to do it without ruining everything.

It felt like everything was overlapping. And she was about to crack.

Ellie exhaled a breath she didn’t even know she was holding and climbed inside the truck,  slamming the door shut harder than she meant to.

Now it was just her and the low hum of the engine. The warmth from your perfume lingering faintly on her shirt. And she fucking hated it. The smell suddenly made her feel nauseous. She gripped the steering wheel tight enough to make her knuckles white.

“I’m such a fucking coward,” she muttered into the silence.

The streetlight cast soft shadows across the dashboard, and her reflection stared back at her in the dark window—eyes red from the remaining alcohol and the headache that was creeping in.

Her jaw clenched. She should’ve said something. She should’ve said it back, but her chest had locked up. Every instinct screaming to run. Because loving you meant being known. Exposed. It meant being vulnerable in a way that terrified the shit out of her. And when you said it—so softly, so honestly…she panicked. Like a fucking pussy.

Too scared of breaking what was already so close to perfect. Too scared of not being enough for you once it was real.

Now the moment was gone. And all she had was the sound of her own shaky breath catching. She didn’t even realize when the tears started to spill out. 

She slammed her hand against the steering wheel. “fucking—stupid—asshole!.”

She let out a sharp breath, head falling forward until it rested against the steering wheel. Mouth pressed into the crook of her elbow to stifle the pathetic sobs. “Fucking idiot,” she whispered. She was crying—quiet, bitter, frustrated tears. Not just because of what happened tonight. It was a build up from everything, but mostly because she knew, deep down, she might’ve just ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to her.

And how wouldn’t she ruin it? It was all too good to be true. There had to be something, a crack, something that would make all slip away. You had been nothing but patient, you opened up for her. And she just kept hiding. Avoiding you, avoiding stepping too close, reading too much into it. She always ran from what she truly felt. Because she was terrified it might scare you away, that she—might scare you away, with her mess and her fucked up feelings. 

She didn’t deserve you, didn’t deserve to be loved by you. Why would you? When she was a complete mess. And that was clearer for her now.

୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧

taglist ♡‧₊˚₊✧

@liasxeatt @80saturn @eleanorsghost @youusunshineyoutemptress @jazzyxox @lesoulew @fangirlinc @hitmehardmommy @liztreez @chwekriz00 @vahnilla @elliespotion @haithone @stwolfhardimaginez @thxtmarvelchick @purinukie @lavenderseedling @elliesfavwife @mikellie @iadorefineshyt @thebadwritersposts @gayandsuffering26 @flynnph0bias @adoreasellie @wwefan2002 @pinkcloudsmmr @ellliewilliamssgf @hufflepuffin92-blog @madsxh1022 @elliepoems @finnthehumanjakethedog @oneinameliann @sulliefimmie @lunshimmer @theangelwaltz @morticeras @elliessavagestarlight @ssijht @oatmatchalatte @sunflowerwinds @angelaut0matec @personal-public-diary @savagestarlight28

-Ellie Williams x Female Reader

Chapter 4 part 1: Motion Sickness

Masterlist/Synopsis

Previous part - Next part Word count: 10.5k+

Warnings: ANGST, loss, reader and Ellie are of age.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Her jade eyes pull you in, heavy-lidded and warm like the sunlight filtering through the curtains. She’s propped on her elbow, her face above yours, the slender fingers of her free hand draw slow lines up and down your bare side.

You study her face, mapping every freckle as you always did. Examining the soft curve of her mouth, her slightly chapped lips.

This isn’t the Ellie you know.

Her jaw is more prominent, her shoulders more muscular, and her hair a darker auburn. She’s older and she touches you confidently, as if she has a million times before.

Ellie’s gaze is unwavering, steady in a way that sends heat rushing through you. Her touch is slow, deliberate, as if she’s memorizing the shape of you with her fingertips.

Her hand moves lower, grazing the hem of your panties, fingers resting at the edge of the fabric.

Your breath hitches.

Ellie chuckles quietly.

“Excited aren’t we?” Her voice low and rough. Teasing you before her lips lower to yours, kissing you softly.

“You know I never make you wait too long.” She whispers as her fingers hook around your panties, gently pulling them off.

Slowly she begins to trail kisses down your chest, then your stomach, spreading your legs by placing them over her shoulders; her hands moving to grip your hips.

Your back arches in anticipation as you feel her warm breath over your