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bring the light of a dying star
불러낸 내 우주를 봐봐, supernova
보이지 않는 힘으로 네게 손 내밀어 볼까?
가능한 모든 가능성, 무한 속의 너를 만나
synopsis. As NASA’s official Capsule Communicator (CAPCOM), your job entails providing visual guidance cues to the team up in space—what your jurisdiction did not include, however, was handling the rich asshole-rly of Ellie Williams.
this oneshot includes. capcom!reader x astronaut!ellie, pure fluff + bickering (no smut!!), ellie’s kinda annoying, readers fed up but stays professional, y/n is used a few times, joel mentions, ellie nearly dies, uhhh yeah! don’t forget to smile!
word count. 3.7k
“Williams, you are drifting three degrees starboard. Correct your alignment.”
When you had signed up to eventually achieve the job of your dreams, they took you through rigorous training manuals—fresh out of college. So to say, you flew past them. You were the best at your job; there was no denying that.
What you wished they had a course on, to put it simply: Extremely-Shit-Faced-Astronaut-Handling 101.
Because even though you could complete calculus merely in your head, confirm telemetry with a simple glance—Williams somehow always got under your skin.
“Wow. No hello?”
“You are not here to socialize,” you reply evenly. “You are here to recalibrate the exterior communications array. Focus.”
She sighs dramatically into the mic. “Yes ma’am,” she says with a tone that you can only imagine to be accompanied with a mocking salute.
By the third week of joint operations, it becomes less of a curiosity and more of a documented phenomenon.
No one says it outright. Mission Control runs on restraint; on swallowed commands and raised brows and the kind of silence that says we are professionals here. But the notice. Of course they do.
Ellie pushes you.
Not Woodward, who runs the night shift with the patience of a saint. Not Anderson, who once misread a diagnostic and got nothing more than a polite correction and a clipped, “Copy that.” Not the rotating Capcoms who trade shifts and stories and the occasional eye-roll when the astronauts get chatty.
Just you.
With everyone else, she’s textbook. Crisp responses. Clean acknowledgements, a little dry humor from one of her joke book’s at worst.
With you? It’s different.
She lingers. She wants to linger.
She asks unnecessary clarifications. Repeating your instructions back to you in tones so exaggerated the border on theatrical.
“Confirm torque at fifteen newton-meters?” she’ll echo, like you’ve asked her to derive orbital mechanics from scratch.
You don’t rise to it.
You never rise to it.
“Confirmed,” you reply.
Clipped. Clean. Professional.
There is no crack in your tone. No give. No acknowledgment of the faint snickers that occasionally ripple through the back row of consoles when her voice filters through the speakers with that particular lilt.
She calls you by your first name whenever she can wedge it in between protocol.
“Alignment steady, thanks, Y/N.”
“Copy that, Y/N.”
“Anything else for me, Y/N?”
Your jaw tightens every time—imperceptibly, you hope.
Albeit to her communicational attempts, you only ever call her Williams. Rank. Last name. Regulation.
Except once.
It had been minor. So minor it wouldn’t even make the daily summary report—a small delay in signal relay during a handover between satellites. Routine, expected—but she’d gone quiet longer than anticipated.
You remember the exact sensation: the way your spine had straightened before you consciously decided to move. The way your fingers pressed harder into the edge of the console. The sudden, sharp awareness of the silence humming through the room—no background chatter, no key taps. Just the low, mechanical breath of Mission Control and the faint hiss of static through the comms.
You leaned forward before you could stop yourself.
“Ellie, respond.”
It slipped out instinctively. No rank. No last name. Just…
Ellie.
Silence.
A crackle of static.
Somewhere behind you, a chair creaked.
Your pulse spiked—sudden and traitorous—thudding once, twice, heavy in your throat. In that split second, your brain ran through every scenario it’s trained for: suit breach, comms failure, disorientation, debris strike.
Then—
“Aw,” she said, voice warm and unmistakably amused. “First name basis? I’m touched.”
The tension didn’t release so much as snap.
You straightened immediately, every muscle locking back into place as if someone had hit a reset switch.
“Williams,” your voice tinged with mockery, “nice of you to join. Report.”
She laughed.
Not a polite exhale. Not a small huff.
A full five seconds of bright, unrestrained laughter that filled the room and bounced off the walls and made at least three people pretend very hard not to be listening.
You kept your eyes forward.
You did not acknowledge the heat creeping up your neck.
You did not acknowledge the way your heart was still hammering from that half-second of fear.
You did not acknowledge the very specific relief that flooded your chest at the sound of her voice.
And you certainly did not think about the way she said your first name after that—softer, almost pleased.
Not once—certainly not at all.
The EVA was not supposed to be dramatic.
High debris probability, yes. The orbital models had flagged an elevated density field in their sector—residual fragmentation from a decade-old satellite breakup that still hadn’t fully decayed. Increased micrometeorite activity in the corridor, also yes. Solar radiation nominal but trending upward. Suit integrity margins well within tolerance.
But manageable.
Within operational parameters.
The malfunction itself was almost insultingly mundane: a thermal regulator panel along the port truss had begun reporting inconsistent heat rejection values—nothing catastrophic, but enough to risk long-term stress on the station’s environmental systems if left unchecked. The replacement procedure was clean. Ninety minutes outside the hull. Remove. Swap. Recalibrate. Verify.
Text-fucking-book.
Ellie volunteered before anyone else could finish scanning the risk assessment.
“Been itching to stretch my legs,” she said.
A faint ripple moved through the back row of consoles. Someone coughed into their sleeve. You didn’t look.
“You are not stretching,” you replied, eyes fixed on the telemetry cascade streaming down your primary monitor. “You are replacing a malfunctioning thermal regulator panel.”
There was a soft crackle over the comms as her mic shifted. You pictured her already grinning inside the suit room, half-strapped into the EMU, running through pre-breathe protocols like it was a casual Sunday walk.
“Same difference.”
“It is not.”
You rotated your chair a few degrees, enough to signal you were done entertaining semantics. “The panel is compensating at seventeen percent above nominal load. If it fails entirely, the port radiators will overcycle. That is not a leg stretch, Williams.”
A beat.
“Agree to disagree, Houston.”
That earned actual laughter this time—low, quickly stifled. Someone behind you muttered, “Jesus,” under their breath.
You pressed your lips together and turned your chair slightly away from the sound, hands folding neatly in your lap to keep from drumming against the console.
On the main display, her biometric feed pulsed steady and unbothered. Heart rate slightly elevated — pre-EVA anticipation. Oxygen levels optimal. Suit pressure holding at 4.3 psi. She thrived in this environment. Outside the hull. Suspended in vacuum with nothing but layered polymer and faith between her and oblivion.
Joel had once been like this, they’d told you.
Back when he’d logged record hours in extravehicular activity. Back before caution settled into him like a second skin. Confident. Efficient. A little too comfortable drifting beyond aluminum and insulation.
He’d cut retrieval times in half. Improvised a tether fix mid-rotation. Laughed during a minor attitude adjustment burn like it was turbulence on a commercial flight.
But Joel had listened.
When Houston said hold position, he held. When debris probability ticked above acceptable, he aborted. He understood that confidence was useful only when it bent to procedure.
Ellie?
Ellie liked to test gravity.
Even in microgravity.
She liked the extra half-meter drift before correcting her thrusters. The delayed “copy” that made your pulse spike just enough to remind you you were still human. The way she pushed at the edges of protocol without ever quite violating it.
On the debris monitor, three tracked fragments blinked amber as they passed within ten kilometers of the station’s projected path. Safe. For now.
You toggled to her suit cam. The airlock hatch loomed in the frame, white and featureless and final.
“Williams,” you said, voice back to clipped neutrality, “confirm pre-EVA checklist complete.”
A pause. Not long. Just long enough.
And somewhere above the planet, Ellie grinned—already halfway to the stars.
The airlock cycle begins at 0900 hours.
Not 0859. Not “around nine.” Exactly 0900. Logged, timestamped, cross-checked against orbital daylight to maximize visibility along the port truss.
On your screen, the internal camera feed shows the outer hatch sealed, the chamber lights stark against the white curvature of her suit. You hear every mechanical shift through the audio channel—the heavy rotational clunk of locking pins disengaging, the hydraulic sigh as the system transitions to depressurization.
A slow, controlled exhale of atmosphere.
“Pressure equalizing,” she reports.
Her voice is steadier outside. Focused. Clear. The teasing edge sanded down by vacuum and checklist discipline. You adjust your headset slightly, as if proximity could sharpen telemetry.
On your monitor, the numbers descend in clean increments. 14.7 psi. 10. 5. 1.
“Copy. Confirm suit integrity.”
You already see it—suit pressure stable at 4.3 psi, oxygen partial pressure nominal, CO₂ scrubbers functioning within expected range—but protocol demands verbal confirmation.
“Integrity’s green. Heart rate slightly elevated because my CAPCOM stresses me out.”
Her biometric feed betrays her. Elevated, yes—but consistent with pre-EVA exertion. Not stress. Not fear.
“Williams.”
There’s a faint shift of fabric against mic foam.
“Kidding.”
“You will maintain professional communication, no matter how many times we go over this.”
The words land crisp. Measured. The kind designed to leave no space for interpretation.
A pause.
Not the playful kind.
Then, softer: “Copy.”
External pressure reaches vacuum. A green indicator flashes across your console.
The hatch unlocks with a muted mechanical release, and the outer door swings inward on slow, deliberate hinges.
Space hums in the background—not a sound, exactly. There is no sound in vacuum. But through her suit’s systems you hear the persistent undercurrent of survival: the whisper of circulating oxygen, the faint mechanical churn of the pump module, the tiny electrical buzz of life-support regulation.
Beyond her shoulder, Earth curves blue and indifferent.
You guide her hand placements.
“Translate hand-over-hand along rail alpha,” you instruct, watching the suit cam tilt as her gloved fingers secure around the exterior guide bar. “Maintain three points of contact.”
Her movements are economical. Controlled thrusts from the SAFER unit, boots locking briefly into a restraint before pushing off toward the port truss.
Her tether trails behind her—a thin, white line that matters more than anything else in orbit.
“Primary tether secure,” she says.
You watch the confirmation light blink active as she clips it to the D-ring along the rail.
“Confirm secondary.”
A procedural redundancy. Two tethers. Two anchors. No assumptions.
A beat.
Long enough for you to notice.
“Secondary secure.”
You don’t let yourself exhale. You simply mark it, logging the timestamp with a precise keystroke.
09:07–Both tethers verified.
“Proceed along port truss. Mind debris field at twelve o’clock.”
On the tracking display, three objects glow amber — catalogued fragments moving relative to station velocity. Not immediate threats. But close enough to respect. Their vectors scroll in neat predictive arcs across your screen.
She shifts the suit cam upward.
She whistles low.
“Yeah, that’s… that’s not nothing.”
At her twelve o’clock, sunlight glints off something small and metallic tumbling lazily through the black. A shard no larger than a coin, traveling fast enough to puncture polymer like paper if trajectories intersected.
“Stay focused.”
You zoom her camera slightly, overlaying distance metrics.
“You worried about me?”
There it is again. Not procedure. Not protocol. You don’t answer that.
Instead: “You are drifting.”
Two degrees off truss alignment. Her inertia carrying her subtly starboard, boots no longer perfectly parallel to the rail.
A breath. A correction burst from her thrusters.
She realigns smoothly, re-centering along the truss with irritating competence.
“Bossy.”
You ignore that too.
Instead, you watch the numbers.
Velocity relative to station: stable.
Tether tension: nominal.
Heart rate: steady…somewhat.
The panel replacement goes smoothly at first.
Too smoothly.
Telemetry remains stable. Radiator output dropping back toward nominal levels as she disconnects the damaged unit. No unexpected resistance in the bolts. No thermal fluctuation spikes. Even the debris monitor settles into an unthreatening green sweep.
You’ve learned to distrust smooth.
She moves efficiently; she is good, you’ll give her that. Every movement economical. No wasted motion. Her boots lock into the portable foot restraint with clean precision. Her gloved hands maneuver the replacement panel into position as though she’s done it a hundred times before.
Her spatial awareness is sharp—compensating for micro-drift before the numbers even reflect it. Adjusting her center of mass instinctively.
She was built for this.
That thought unsettles you.
Because this—vacuum, risk, isolation—is where she is most herself.
“Torque set,” she says.
You watch the digital readout from her Pistol Grip Tool stabilize.
“Confirm.”
“Fifteen newton-meters. Just how you like it.”
Even now.
Even here.
You close your eyes briefly. Just once. A controlled inhale through your nose.
“Williams.”
“Right. Professional.”
The replacement panel seals flush against the truss. She runs a diagnostic. Thermal exchange begins recalibrating, numbers trending beautifully back into acceptable range.
And then—
There’s a faint shift in the feed.
A flicker.
A glint of something fast crossing the edge of her helmet cam.
Your eyes snap to the trajectory overlay.
One fragment had been flagged as low probability. A minor vector deviation.
Low probability does not mean zero.
“Hold position,” you say immediately.
“I’m stable.”
“Hold.”
Your tone brooks nothing.
The fragment is small. No larger than a bolt head. But velocity in orbit turns small into lethal.
It skims the edge of the truss.
Too close.
It clips something.
Not the suit.
The tether.
You see it before she does.
The secondary line—white against black—jerks violently. Fibers strain.
Then snap.
Her body jolts with the recoil.
“—what was that?”
Her camera lurches.
“Williams, report.”
“I’m—”
The primary tether strains under sudden redistributed force.
On your screen, the tension metric spikes red.
“Check your primary connection.”
“It’s fine—”
It isn’t.
You see the anchor point—the one she secured earlier, the one she attached with that half-second of casual confidence—shift under load.
Metal groans. The vibration carries faintly through her suit mic.
Then releases.
And she is no longer attached to anything.
Silence.
Not real silence—her breathing fills your headset, rapid and suddenly unsteady—but the kind that hollows out your chest and compresses your lungs until oxygen feels optional.
Her body begins to drift.
Slow at first.
Then faster.
Mission Control erupts behind you—chairs scraping, overlapping voices, someone already calculating intercept vectors—but it sounds distant. Muffled. Like you’re underwater.
You don’t hear them.
You only see the numbers.
Distance: increasing.
Relative velocity: climbing.
“Williams,” you say.
No answer.
Her breathing quickens, sharp inhales fogging the inside edge of her visor.
“Ellie.”
The room stills.
Her head jerks toward the camera.
“I— I’m spinning.”
Her horizon line tilts sickeningly. Earth and black sky trading places.
“Engage manual thrusters. Short bursts. Do not overcorrect.”
“I know how thrusters work.”
Her voice cracks on the last word.
You swallow.
“Listen to me.”
The words are sharper now. Not cold.
Urgent.
“Breathe in. Slow. You are not out of control.”
She is drifting further. The station shrinking in the corner of the frame.
Fuel reserves: limited.
One wrong burst and she’ll tumble into a rotational axis that will eat through propellant correcting itself.
“I’ve got you,” you say, before you can stop yourself.
The confession slips between protocol lines.
It does not belong there.
Her breathing stutters.
“Focus.”
Another fragment sails past her visor.
Too close.
Too many.
“Left thruster. Two-second pulse.”
She obeys.
For the first time since you met her, she obeys instantly.
No quip. No resistance.
A controlled burst fires. Her rotation slows incrementally. The numbers reflect it—angular velocity decreasing by fractions.
She corrects slightly.
Spin slows.
“Good,” you murmur. “Good. Stay with me.”
Not clinical.
Not procedural.
She exhales shakily. “Don’t— don’t go quiet.”
“I’m here.”
You are. Entirely.
Another pulse. The station grows larger in frame. Fuel percentage ticks down with merciless precision.
“You will not let go,” you say.
“I’m trying.”
“I know.”
You have never sounded like this.
Not in simulations. Not in training. Not in the weeks she’s spent needling at your composure.
Everybody hears it.
Woodward. Anderson. The flight director standing frozen two rows back.
You don’t care.
She aligns with the emergency retrieval arm extending from the truss—a slender mechanical lifeline reaching into vacuum.
She misses by inches.
Your heart stops.
“Again,” you say, voice thin despite your effort to steady it.
“Fuel’s—”
“I know. Again.”
Final burst.
The thruster fires.
The arm catches her suit latch with a metallic snap that reverberates through her mic. The jolt rattles her body. The feed shudders.
Then—
Stability.
Distance: zero.
Relative velocity: zero.
Tether: secured by mechanical clamp.
You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until your lungs burn.
Behind you, Mission Control releases in staggered exhales. Someone laughs once— hysterical, disbelieving—before cutting themselves off.
On your screen, her heart rate begins to descend from its violent spike.
She laughs weakly, breathless and shaky and alive.
“Guess you’re stuck with me.”
Your eyes close.
For half a second, you let yourself feel it.
The image that had flashed—unbidden—across your mind when the tether snapped. The report you would have had to file. The call to her family, Joel, who had once undergone a similar accident. The sterile language: loss of crew member during EVA. Contributing factors under investigation.
You had seen it all.
You had already begun compartmentalizing it.
And it had nearly broken you.
You open your eyes before anyone can read that on your face.
“Copy,” you say, perfectly even. Perfectly composed. “Welcome back to structure.”
Your voice is steady.
Professional.
Controlled.
No one would know that your hands are trembling beneath the console.
No one would know that for thirteen seconds—thirteen catastrophic, endless seconds—you were not thinking like CAPCOM.
You were thinking like someone who could not lose her.
So you do what you do best.
You straighten the stack of printed procedures beside your monitor.
You log the incident in calm, clinical terms.
You thank recovery operations for swift deployment.
You do not turn around when someone behind you says, quietly, “Nice save.”
You do not acknowledge the way your pulse still hasn’t settled.
And when her comm crackles again—softer now, tethered and being reeled in—you answer her as you always do.
Clipped.
Clean.
“Williams, prepare for airlock ingress.”
As if your voice hadn’t fractured around her name only minutes before.
The debrief is scheduled immediately.
Protocol demands it. EVA anomaly. Tether failure. Near-loss incident. The report will be archived, analyzed, dissected in simulation briefings for years.
You are supposed to sound composed.
Objective.
You are not sure you are capable of either.
Mission Control has thinned out behind you, but not completely. A few key personnel remain—flight director, systems, safety. Pens poised. Screens glowing. Everyone pretending this is routine.
The comm line opens. There’s a faint echo delay between you now—signal bouncing from ground to station and back again. She’s inside the station. Suit removed. Cooling down. Oxygen normalizing. Heart rate nearly baseline.
Alive.
“CAPCOM,” she says.
No teasing.
Just the word.
It lands differently.
“Williams.” You look down at the procedural checklist in front of you. Black text. Clinical language. You cling to it. “Walk me through the moment of tether failure.”
She exhales slowly. You can hear the fatigue in it now. Adrenaline’s aftershock.
“I didn’t double-check the anchor. I thought it was stable.”
Around you, pens move.
“You were instructed to verify secondary tension.”
“I know.”
Her voice is quieter than you’ve ever heard it. No deflection. No sharp edge.
“I know.”
You swallow before the next line.
“Why did you dismiss the warning?”
There are a dozen acceptable answers she could give. Debris distraction. Task saturation. Visual obstruction.
Instead, a pause. Then, honest:
“Because I thought I had it.”
That hits harder than defiance ever did.
You lean back slowly in your chair, the vinyl creaking under the shift in your weight.
“You do not get to assume out there.”
“I figured that out.”
Static hums between you. The kind that fills space when there’s nothing left to hide behind.
Then:
“You said my name,” she says.
Not accusing.
Not teasing.
Just… noting it.
You stare at the console, at your own reflection faint in the darkened edge of the screen.
“This is a formal debrief.”
“Yeah. I know.”
Another beat.
“You sounded scared.”
The room behind you pretends not to listen. Someone clears their throat. Someone else studies a monitor that hasn’t changed in minutes.
You choose your words carefully. You reach for procedure.
“You compromised mission safety.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
You inhale.
The headset suddenly feels too tight against your ears. Too intimate.
“You scared me.”
The admission is soft. Unpolished. Real.
It bypasses every safeguard you’ve spent weeks maintaining.
On the other end of the planet—above it, technically—Ellie goes quiet.
“You don’t scare easy,” she says finally.
“No.”
It’s not bravado. It’s fact.
You let the silence settle this time. You don’t rush to fill it. The station hum bleeds faintly through her mic. Earth turning beneath her. You grounded to a chair thousands of miles away.
She speaks first.
“When you said ‘stay with me’… I thought—”
She cuts herself off.
“What?” you ask.
“I thought if I didn’t… if I didn’t make it back, that’d be the last thing you ever said to me.”
Your chest tightens with a force that feels suspiciously like delayed terror.
“I would have kept talking,” you reply before you can filter it.
You would have filled the silence.
You would have refused to let it end that way.
“Even if I was gone?”
“Yes.”
The word leaves no room for doubt.
Across the vacuum, her breath shudders.
“Don’t do that again,” you say quietly.
“Drift off into space?”
“Take unnecessary risks.”
A pause.
“Okay.”
No sarcasm.
Just okay.
Something settles inside you at that. Not relief. Not yet.
But something steadier.
You soften despite yourself.
“You are not replaceable, Williams.”
There’s a long exhale on the other end. The kind that carries weight.
The comm crackles faintly.
Then, almost back to herself—almost:
“You gonna call me Ellie more often now?”
You almost smile.
Almost.
“Debrief concluded,” you say.
It’s the safest answer you have.
“CAPCOM?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t get used to bossing me around like that.”
A beat.
“Outside the airlock, I mean.”
Click.
a/n. ts lowkey buns and ellie is insanely ooc so im sorry for that - it’s a sort of placeholder to get used to this app so i can actually post my main project chasing aphelion
𓆩 in a world without trauma, here’s my vision of ellie 𓆪
summary: literally a bunch of nonsensical headcanons of ellie in a modern world i made out of boredom :p
warnings: not proofread bc im lazy and at work :/
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who has sarah as a half-sister from joel’s previous marriage. married!tessjoel who’re also ellie’s biological parents
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who grew up lower middle class, so she’s extremely frugal when it comes to buying things. she’ll make and fix anything before making a purchase even crosses her mind
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who works a part time job for side money/tuition just in case financial aid can’t cover all her expenses
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who i could see either working fast food, or some “tech” job like a sales associate at best buy. she swears she hates her job, but still manages to be a heavily relied upon, and valued worker to her team
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who drove around is joel’s truck before she saved enough money to buy a janky ass facebook marketplace car that she treats like it’s fresh off the lot (#mecore)
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who actually attends a local two year college before transferring to university to study astrophysics (astrophysics major!ellie is the way)
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who works day and night on scholarships, extracurriculars, and keeping her grades up so her transfer process is smooth sailing
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who’s been a fangirl since the dawn of time. fan art, fanfics, fan edits, and cosplays are her personality
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who taught herself how to do digital art and animate bc she had an amv phase as a kid, and is lowkey decent at animations still even though she doesn’t do them nearly as often
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who could probably tell you the entire fnaf lore off the top of her head if you asked her
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who’s room is a chaotic mess of posters, trinkets, comics, and drawings littered all over her room. it’s mainly clothes dirty if you ignore the empty cans of soda and bottles of water
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who’s style is actually pretty simple. she doesn’t often go out and buy new things unless they’re a necessity, so i fear those dirty ass converse are still with her no matter the universe </3
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who loves ironic tees, baggy pants, and decorates anything she carries on her with stickers/pins of all her interests
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who’s socials are practically bare of her face lmao. photos of views, outfits, or even partially her face is how close she gets to posting herself. she probably deletes everything from her insta randomly and looks like an inactive account if you ignore her likes and comments on everyone else’s posts
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who cuts her own hair, and has been since middle school and is weirdly good at it
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who’s iphone is 5 years old, barely works, and has a shattered screen with no phone case. the back of her phone is just covered in stickers lmao. she’s too proud to buy a new one
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who’s a performative wired earphone wearer
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who LOVES online gaming and sits on her pc all day with various online/irl friends playing games
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who doesn’t play about a dab pen, or vape… i weirdly think she’d love a sour apple vape flavor
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who’s humor is literally tiktok brainrot and she thinks it’s unironically the funniest shit ever
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who i can’t decide would never post on her tiktok, or makes troll posts
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who’s guilty pleasure dream is to be a twitch streamer, but she’s far too busy with classes and uni to take it seriously
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who’s probably nonbinary, but she has a job, she doesn’t really care about that rn/ref
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie who’s actually very smart when it comes to school, especially the maths and science her degree calls for
౨ৎ ─ modern!ellie whom i love with my entire soul </3
𖦹 𖦹 𖦹
i absolutely have to stop posting once every 6 months, but i was working on some original works stuff 💔
anywho! i might have a mini series come out soon, but until then, i have a short blurb i’ve been writing i plan to upload soon!!
taglist: @xoxo-macie994 @elsdolly @starduszt @korliover @hitmehardmommy @mybodyismadeofcrushedstars (just comment to be added/removed!)
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ৎ୭ .ᐟ ──── Ellie led you towards her room rapidly, never letting go of your hand. You chuckled together stupidly as you nearly tripped down the stairs, the tiresome waiting had left you impatient and giddy. Even with how nervous she got around you, Ellie's hand wasn't as sweaty as yours— you never understood how she managed to appear so composed.
Your mask slipped off and fell outside of the threshold. You closed her bedroom door behind you, letting the deep purple of her walls swallow your worries away— anything that happened within them was yours and yours only. Ellie was already hitting play on her boombox, which contained the CD she had left yesterday.
"Seriously?" You asked in disbelief, perceiving the first notes of the piano fill the ambience. Evanescence, again. More often than not, she put their songs on for you, even sang them with that raspy undertone she has when she’s too shy to raise her voice above anything other than a soft murmur.
"It's romantic." She shrugged as if it was obvious, the keychains attached to her belt loops clinked lowly as she turned to face you.
"Depressive," you retorted sarcastically, though you didn't really mind. She scoffed, about to protest. Anything that wasn’t loud was inherently depressive to you, but she would argue for hours if it meant convincing you of her point— you pulled her hand and she got the message, letting herself be dragged and pulled into the bed, falling onto her back with a giggle— guess today wouldn’t be the day she lectured you about music.
You kicked your vans off and straddled her— Ellie did the same and let her feet rest on the mattress, the comforter caressing the nape of her neck and sending a shiver through her body. You moved her bangs away from her face, intending to catch her gaze more clearly.
"Hey! that's- you cannot do that!" She huffed, cheeks turning beet red as she looked away. She was truly beautiful, with and without her every day look, but she couldn’t blame you for wanting to see both of her eyes at the same time.
"I want to see your face," you teased as you pinched her cheek, causing her to cover herself with her hand.
"See my face? Well, I can't see your lips under all that... lipgloss. And I’m not taking your lipgloss off just because," she bit back unconvincingly with an airy chuckle, her flushed ears betraying the blossoming colors her hand attempted to cover.
"Why don’t you take it off?" You held her jaw, forcing her to meet your piercing eyes again.
Her eyeliner was messy, smeared across the outer corner of her eye— it was not the waterproof one, for sure. Her irises stood out brightly against the jet black, a flower field shining under the moonlight. There was a small smudge in her cheek which you wiped with your index.
Moments like this were what fueled most of your days, knowing that in just a few hours, minutes, seconds you would be right here with her. Worshipping her.
Without a warning, you leaned in and kissed her, tasting her cotton candy lips. She hummed, losing herself into it. Her hands travelled to your waist, rubbing up and down soothingly— though the coldness of her rings wasn't soothing at all, the warmth of her hands compensated it, making your insides twist and contract and untwist and expand. Just a few more seconds touching you like this and you would collapse completely.
As your tongue intruded in her mouth, it felt as if a switch had been flipped on her. Her eagerness surmounted yours greatly, her wet muscle exploring your mouth with no shame as one of her hands travelled up your back and tangled in your hair to guide you.
Before you could process it, she was the one controlling you with soft pulls of your hair and strokes of her palm over your thigh. With a whine, you pulled back just centimeters away from her mouth.
"I dominate you! Not the other way around," you protested as her fingertips massaged your scalp.
"Why?" She chortled, looking up at you with that cocky smirk of hers.
"It's in the rules."
"What rules?"
"Life rules," you replied as a matter of fact, “the cutest girl has to be dominated.”
Ellie snorted and pulled you in again. “Fuck you,” she muttered before crashing her lips against yours. You caressed her collarbone, going higher and higher until the feeling of your nails against her jugulum drew out of her a soft, audible gasp that you gladly swallowed.
She held your face to guide your every movement, firmly yet not painfully. You placed your hands over hers, pulled back and leaned down to bite her neck as a desperate attempt to regain control. She pushed herself up in her elbows, doing the same thing to you in revenge.
"Don't!" you commanded playfully, pushing her down again as she chuckled. She took it as a personal challenge, a plea for her to disobey and so she did, flipping you both around. You would never get over the way her long hair framed her face when she looked down at you, breathless and ready to win.
This tug of war never really ended, but you were willing to lose this battle more often if it meant getting lost on the spell she's just cast on you a couple more times.
ℒuchi's note .ᐟ.ᐟ whenever my paragraphs get a little too long i remember nabokov's words to reassure myself instead of fixing that coke rant knowing damn well i fall into the awkward construction category. anyways i didn't like the result a lot but i don't have more fucks to give this week :3
(please boycott buying tlou two and get it second hand or watch the gameplay and please don't buy tlou 3 if it comes out and refrain from buying remastered versions of any tlou and tlou merch connected with PlayStation)
synopsis: Ellie Williams x reader headcannons and small drabble of fluff and smut.
Ellie gently held the end of the cigarette to her lips slightly inhaling then letting out a soft breath.
the light gray ash from the cigarette slightly falling onto her black knit sweater and her brown cowboy boots clicked on the door that were covered with her loose baggy flared jeans.
you quietly came up to Ellie from behind hugging her figure. Ellie smiled softly gently turning her head and learning in the touch. That's when you noticed something about her hair. You started to undo her low messy bun.
"baby what are you doing...?" Ellie said slightly moving her head and that's when her hair came undone.
"oh my gosh.. your hair is longer." You said with a gasp gently running your fingers through her loose waves.
"oh yeah well I haven't got to cut-"
"it's so pretty." you said interrupting her.
"it's not that long you know?" " You're acting like I'm Rapunzel, it's just a little past my shoulders." she joked.
"yeah but you always have your hair above your shoulders."
longhair!ellie: sits on the couch smoking a cigarette and lets you play with her hair. You braid her hair, you massage it, you run your fingers through her hair, you gently brush the tangles out. Ellie loves it she just doesn't want to admit it.
longhair!ellie: always is moving her face framing pieces out of the way.you love watching her from the side seeing her messy hair being run through by her fingers and framing her face again.
longhair!ellie: she twirls strands of hair when she's nervous now that she has enough hair to do it.
longhair!ellie: she hates brushing it so she just ties it back.
longhair!ellie: during sex her hair gently sticks to her head from sweat. And it gets a little messy. when you're teasing her she'll just give you a small glance, her eyes half lidded since she's already tired and the kind of damp pieces frame her face.
longhair!ellie: loves it when you pull her hair while fucking her. She never wants to admit it but she loves when you fuck her from behind and pull her hair just enough to gently lift her head.
longhair!ellie: loves it when you give her head gentle scratches during and after sex. She likes the after sex ones more since she loves when you calm her down. You give the best aftercare.
longhair!ellie: she cums from just you pulling her hair.
you were laying on the bed legs bent up and spread wide. Ellie's head was set in between your legs. Both of her hands gently hold the plush of your thighs.
ellie started to lick. Her tongue gently moves up and down on your slit. Your hands gently reach down to her head intertwining with her brown hair. you would gently scratch and pull at her strands and as you moved your fingers they went closer to her neck.
Ellie's neck was a sensitive spot so anytime you got close her head would slightly jerk. You'd pull anytime you felt her tongue more out of habit.
"fuck, I'm so close.." you whimpered with another pull.
Then you could feel Ellie's tongue slow down and then fully stop. it made her half lidded eyes open fully. You slightly raised your head glancing down at Ellie, face buried in your cunt.
"did you just pass out?" you asked, there was no answer.
"Ellie.." you said, you gently pulled again. Trying to wake her up.
but Ellie wasn't passed out, when you pulled again she let out a small whimper. You felt her heavy breathing against your inner thigh and that's when you heard a small cry come from her and her hips gently bucked. It sounded like relief.
"oh my god did you just cum." you said followed with a silent wheeze laugh.
"it's not funny." she whined. She was so embarrassed. she tried to get you to stop laughing but you couldn't.
she sat up with shame and embarrassment on her face. She gently grabbed her glasses put them on and gently sat there with her knees up and arms crossed.
she just watched you laughing with furrowed brows and puppy eyes.
okay guys this obviously isn't as good but I need recommendations on what to write so please tell me I will write them literally anything for Ellie Williams I literally write anything except for incest and non con.
this is what flared baggy jeans looks like if you couldn't picture it in the beginning
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summary: you call your local handyman company expecting some sweaty, old dude… so why is his tactile daughter under your sink??
warnings: not 100% proofread, and sort of short :/ (soz)
౨ৎ ─ handyman!ellie who’s sent to your apartment when joel and tommy are both caught up at another project on the other side of town and sent her to fix your leaky sink when your landlord blows you off for the third time that week
౨ৎ ─ handyman!ellie who’s just as surprised as you are when you open the door and she takes in your frilly robe and fuzzy house shoes and realizes you’re not the common old lady customer needing her to fix some toilet in the back
౨ৎ ─ handyman!ellie who’s suddenly doing peak customer service with the way she’s all smiles as she walks around your tiny apartment letting you lead her to the culprit of her presence—you’re kitchen sink
౨ৎ ─ handyman!ellie who can feel your eyes burning into her back as she crouches low to reach inside your sink to unscrew some bolts to figure out why its clogged. even goes the extra mile to show off like a total loser by wiping fake sweat from her brow, letting out dramatic sighs just from removing a screw, and pushing her sleeves further up her arm so you have something better to stare at
౨ৎ ─ handyman!ellie who finished fixing your sink almost an hour ago, but managed to still be inside your house getting to know you before her phone rings with joel demanding she make it back to the building to help him with something
౨ৎ ─ handyman!ellie who leaves, but not without giving you her private number “just in case it breaks again”
౨ৎ ─ handyman!ellie who finds herself at your place again a week later because your cabinet is making a “weird noise”
౨ৎ ─ handyman!ellie who fixes it quickly because the screw was just a little loose, but that doesn’t stop you from offering her a drink of water for her “hard work”
౨ৎ ─ handyman!ellie who’s wardrobe consists of levi jeans, dingy shirts and tank tops, various dusty boots, and her hair occasionally tied back
౨ৎ ─ handyman!ellie who’s hands are calloused from all the hands on work she does, and her little utility belt hanging low on her jeans letting off little clinks and clacks from her tools brushing together as she moves through your apartment
౨ৎ ─ handyman!ellie who watches joel answer the work phone back at the job and knows from the way he glances her way that it’s you on the other end requesting her for a new job at your place
౨ৎ ─ handyman!ellie who’s naive to the fact that you’re secretly destroying your apartment just to keep her coming. low water pressure, broken locks, chips in your counters. you name it, you’ve had it
౨ৎ ─ handyman!ellie who starts to get suspicious with your intentions when you call her on her personal number asking if she’d build a shelf for you
౨ৎ ─ handyman!ellie who comes over regardless and fixes it free of charge since it’s “outside their usual services”
౨ৎ ─ handyman!ellie who finds herself at your place again and frowns in confusion after unscrewing the light in your bedroom just to see there’s no lightbulb at all inside of it
she glances down at your after a beat before smiling to herself and holding her hand out for the new one she brought to “replace” what appears to not be there.
“if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you were in here tearing your place down just to get me to come back.”
౨ৎ ─ handyman!ellie who laughs to herself as you hand her the new one as you respond with “yeah, crazy”
౨ৎ ─ handyman!ellie who asks you on a date before she leaves to give your poor apartment a break for once
𖦹 𖦹 𖦹
so, i know i said monday... but tuesday isn't so far off is it?? no? okay.
── .✦ PAIRING: Ellie Williams x Reader
── .✦ SUMMARY: You have attended college for almost a year now. You and your roommate, Ellie, having shared a dorm for the majority of the time. You have also gotten really close during that time… really really close.
── .✦ TAGS: nsfw, smut with some plot, college au, modern au, roommates to lovers, friends w benefits, not very experienced reader, artist!ellie, one shots.
˖᯽ ݁˖ Merri’s Notes. . . A fic based on these headcanons. Though, not really a fic because every chapter is a smut oneshot from that specific au. Some might switch places depending on what I feel like writing at the time!
ﾒ CHAPTER 1 ・ ❝ NEVER HAVE I EVER ❞
Ellie finds out you have never used or had a strap used on you during a game of never have I ever. She proceeds to use one on you… just to show you.
ﾒ CHAPTER 2 ・ ❝ A NEW NORMAL ❞
Mini-shots of you and Ellie relieving college stress by fucking in multiple different ways.
ﾒ CHAPTER 3 ・ ❝ HANDS TO YOURSELF ❞
After watching porn with Ellie, you can’t stop thinking about that one video where the woman’s hands were tied above her head. Ellie doesn’t exactly have a rope but she does have a belt.
ﾒ CHAPTER 4 ・ ❝ MISSING YOU ❞
Ellie goes on a trip with Joel during a college break leaving you alone to get off to the night before. Aka Ellie talking you through using the strap on her.
summary: ellie finds herself spending a friday night on the campus football field for the first time in her entire college experience
a/n: sorry for the wait, i had a pretty bad ocd spiral, but i am back with a part two for the 3 people that asked lol, hope you enjoy!! <3
warnings: hyper-femme reader, majority not proof read (sorry), reader isn’t the brightest, so… i guess dni if you hate obliviousness, or… idiocy?? idk
Your heeled shoes clacked against the pavement outside of your school's campus as your phone was gripped tightly in your hands. Your manicured thumb moved quickly across the screen as you sent a series of messages filled with abbreviations and emoticons to your savior of a tutor who helped you get your first A+ on your exam, practically saving your academic career.
The moment the email of your grade was delivered to your laptop, you literally jumped out of your seat, the metal legs screeching against the library floor, and squealed loudly within the entire library causing you to be kicked out which was exactly why you were speed walking through the students and backpacks to meet Ellie at the campus cafeteria to share the news with her.
ellie wellie :3: i’m already here sitting in the back btw. just let me know when you’re here!
You all but skipped towards the cafeteria and searched the sea of students for that familiar auburn hair tucked away in the back like she said. She was hunched over her own phone, her hands stressfully running over her hair as she tried her hardest not to look like she was looking around for you. The glasses slipping down her nose did little to shield her green eyes from meeting yours as a sheepish smirk rose over her face as she shyly waved your way.
You perked up as you waved back, having to quickly apologize as you ran into a passing student who flashed you a dirty look as you squeezed past her and made your way to Ellie.
Your heavy purse slammed into the table, its abundance of trinkets and contents making the surface wobble as you slipped into the chair across from her.
“Your brain is gonna totally splatter the walls when you read this!” you leaned into her as you fished for your phone through your bottomless pit you called a handbag.
Ellie snorted softly at your exaggerated way of speaking as she watched you move, the random waves of vanilla filling her nose with every move you made.
“I’m assuming it's good news?” she feigned curiosity as she scratched at the back of her neck, taking in the matching velvet tracksuit you wore, the animal print shirt peeking over your half zipped jacket.
“Good news is a freaking atom compared to this. This news is, like, the size of the sun!” you slammed your hands on the table as you grabbed your phone and went fishing through your emails.
Ellie’s smile grew at your comparison knowing you’ve slowly slipped whatever she’s taught you into your everyday lingo which has slowly become endearing to her the more she heard you talk. She leaned into the table with a fond expression that quickly morphed into one of surprise as your bright phone screen temporarily blinded her.
“Read it and weep!” you beamed from behind your phone as you held it mere inches from Ellie’s face. The redhead blinked a few times before taking your device for herself to read over, her brows furrowed until she came across the grade at the bottom.
98%.
“Holy shit, a high A!” Ellie lowered the phone to smile at both you, and the grade. She was honestly proud of you, and noticed pretty early on that your low grades didn’t come from a disinterest in school but an honest misunderstanding of the material. Watching you get so excited over the grade made her feel special that she could help you the way she was.
“I know, I could literally scream again, but I won’t,” you reassured Ellie with a sneaky smile, finding humor in the way she gave you an apprehensive look while subconsciously checking around awkwardly.
You were very prone to shouting even in the tutoring rooms over almost anything, so she could only imagine everyone's eyes on you both if you did so right now.
“Yeah, let's just… find another way to celebrate, yeah?” she chuckled nervously as she slid your phone back to you.
The idea of a celebration made you perk up all over again. You snatched up Ellie’s hands before she could even retract them back to her lap as you leaned over the table causing you to be mere inches from her face.
“Oh my gosh, the game! I can perform for the game tonight–Ellie, you have to come!” you whined as you squeezed her hands between hers.
Her green eyes widened at the lack of space, her entire body frozen in shock as she took every inch of your face in. Her fingers slightly tightened around yours as she stammered an answer to your invitation, not really wanting to refuse, but also being able to name a million different ways she’d want to spend her Friday night that didn’t include the packed stands of a football game.
“Wha–um, I don’t know if I’d–”
“Come on, you’re the reason I can even play!” you whined as your brows slowly knitted together while you pouted at her, “please?” you drew the ask out as much as you could, looking into her eyes to get her to say yes.
Almost like she was in a trance, Ellie blinked slowly before she nodded, her body moving before her brain. “Uh… yeah, of course.”
Apparently her mouth, too. Of course?! It was almost like the spell was lifted the way her face morphed confusion and surprise as she looked away, only forced back to reality when you squealed (much quieter) and clapped enthusiastically.
“Doors open at 7, so don’t be late, and sit close to the ground!” you called over your shoulder as you picked up your purse and left a very blind sided and flustered Ellie behind to digest her new Friday night plans.
𖦹 𖦹 𖦹
The football field was packed with students and various lovers of the Wyoming football team. The school's colors painted the outside as music riled the crowd and the inside had cheers and voices spilling out of the doors. Families and young adults populated the lines while rushing to concessions and seats–some even bringing their pets in the same colors.
Ellie shivered under her layers of clothes as she handed over the last bit of change she had to her name to the lady at the ticket stand before giving her a halfhearted smile while shoving the paper into her pocket. She grabbed her phone while she was at it to check the time.
7:26pm.
She was a little late because she couldn’t figure out what to wear. It wasn’t like you invited her on a date, it was solely to watch you and a bunch of random girls she probably never shared a course with flip around on the turf, but it still felt wrong to show up in the same clothes she had worn all day.
Her room was a cluttered mess since she had scavenged her entire closet for anything that would turn your eye, but she was sure you wouldn’t even see her in the waves of people who actually took the time out of their Friday to show up to these things. Alas, she landed on a plain t-shirt and threw the least dirty flannel over the top of it including her jacket to keep warm by the time the sun finally set. Her Converse were caked in dirt and in desperate need of a wash which was why she grabbed the baggiest pair of jeans in her closet to hide them from your eyes in case you did find a way to be close to her, which you always did.
Her hair was still damp from letting it air dry, and the wind wasn’t helping her case. She awkwardly shook her hands through it as she let out a stressed puff of air and continued to find her seat in the stands.
Your words of sitting as close to the ground played in Ellie’s mind as she sat down since the closest she was able to get was one of the lower rows in the middle section. She awkwardly looked over her shoulder as everyone started sitting and partially regretted coming out here on her own instead of with someone else to ease her nerves.
Down below, the football team had already made their entrance and were huddled up doing drills. She leaned forward a bit to seek you out, seeing a decent group of girls down below in matching uniforms drinking water and conversing with one another.
She could spot you out from a mile away, and she found it a bit strange that you weren’t mixed in with your team. Instead, you bit at your nail as you looked across the field and crowd distracted. Ellie was sure you were just nervous about performing again, so she tried to relax a bit more and wait for the game to start.
The school’s football field was of pretty decent quality, and she couldn’t deny part of her was slightly intrigued to see what the game had in store. She didn’t even know what team the school was going against, but with the crowd screamed in anticipation she assumed it would be a good game.
Suddenly, a constant buzzing came from her pocket as she fished out her phone to see your contact photo flashing across her screen. With a slide of her thumb, she glanced down at where you stood below the crowd, your phone pressed against your ear, as your eyes continued to scan the crowd.
“Did you come?!” your voice shouted loudly into the receiver, cutting Ellie off before she could properly greet you with a ‘hello’ of her own. The redhead blinked it off a few times before she cradled the phone closer so you could hear her over the cheering crowd.
“I’m here, I’m literally above you,” Ellie answered, mildly amused by your distressed tone, watching your every move as you spun around to check for her within the entire field.
“No–no, to your right! That’s your left… Wait, slow down, I’m up! Look up!” Ellie slowly began to stand from her seat as you looked around wildly for her, whining about how you couldn’t see her while doing the opposite of her instructions.
It wasn’t until Ellie stood up fully while waving her arms around that your dramatic pout became an ecstatic smile as you jumped around and waved back. “Ellie! Ellie, hi!” you screamed into the phone, likely meaning for her to hear you screaming from below, but she laughed away and returned the same hello back.
“Okay, I’m gonna hang up, alright? I’m here,” she reassured you softly while laughing, cradling the phone near her ear with a soft smile. She watched as you gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up and ended the call.
The moment you hung up, Ellie had a warm smile on her face that slowly began to fade as she realized she was standing still. Taking the quickest glances around her, she felt her stomach drop as she met the eyes of several bystanders also mirroring her smile.
The moment the metal seats welcomed her back to her spot, the nice lady beside her leaned over to give Ellie a comment,
“It’s sweet how you girls support one another!” her eyes sparkled as she gave Ellie a soft nudge with her shoulder, one Ellie herself couldn’t return. With the tightest smile, and reddest face, she gave the lady a single nod and forced her eyes ahead as the school's song began playing and the game started.
Ellie would be lying if she said she was entertained the entire time, in fact, the only reason why she hasn’t pulled out her phone yet was because you kept peeking over your shoulder to give her a smile and wave before being shouted at by your coach.
The crowd around her didn’t seem to share the same sentiment. Everyone in the stands cheered loudly for the team, even bringing out airhorns and chants she didn’t even know belonged to their school. Even the kind lady that praised her for being here in your honor took a stand to cuss out the other team when they made a touchdown in the first quarter.
The sun was slowly falling and it was now halftime, and suddenly, Ellie found herself more into the game then anyone else could’ve ever been. While the stands slowly emptied with hungry fans reuping their snacks as the cheerteam made their way to the center, Ellie scooted forward on the already thin bench just to get a better view of you.
You all took your places on the turf below and made even space as the announcer above introduced you all to those left behind. The crowd gave you all a warm applause, and even a few cheers, but you spent the time grazing the stands for a familiar face.
And there she was, Ellie, actually standing while clapping for you. You were too far to see her expression, but you could see her arm lifting to give a subtle wave in your direction and that was enough to bring a bright smile onto your own face for the both of you.
A dubstep remix of a song quickly washed out the cheers as you and your team began to perform. Despite missing out on a few games, you fell immediately into rhythm with the familiar routine and it almost felt like no time had passed since you’ve been on the field with your girls.
Even with the thousands of eyes on you, your own couldn’t help but find Ellie in the stands watching the entire show. Each movement of your hands was sharp and on point just for her, the ache in your legs and the hair in your eyes, and stuck in your lipgloss, was worth it if it meant she would be moved by your set.
The song finally came to an end as you marched to your final position and hit the last pose on beat and the cheers finally reached your ears again. Your chest heaved as you held the pose for a beat longer, scanning and finding Ellie to make out the shape of her cupping her mouth likely to cheer louder for you than everyone else. Even in the overwhelming layers of everyone else’s cheers, you still felt like you could make hers out, and before breaking position, you waved your pom-pom covered hand to her directly before skipping off with the rest of your team.
𖦹 𖦹 𖦹
The rest of the game seemed to fly by for the rest of the quarters. Like usual, your team won the game, and all attendees left in high spirits as the visiting team sulked out of the arena and to their cars.
Ellie found herself standing out by the doors and checking her phone, trying to fight off the chill despite her teeth chattering against one another. The football season weather gave her a physical reminder why she usually spent Friday nights inside the comforting warmth of her bed.
“Oh, good, you’re still here!” the chirpy voice of the reminder why she was even still hear sang from behind her. Ellie turned to see you coming out the doors with some of your other teammates behind you saying their own goodbyes as they went their separate ways.
“I told you I’d walk you to your car,” Ellie reminded you softly as she watched you with a soft smile, taking you in with your more casual attire.
Well, as casual as you could call it. Ellie was sure she'd never seen you dress casual. With your hair brushed out of your face and a fresh layer of lipgloss you were currently applying, she took the time to take in the furry jacket you wore over your skin tight graphic shirt underneath. Another brightly colored pair of velvety sweats were tucked into the furriest pair of boots she's ever laid eyes on, and somehow, it seemed to work.
You popped your lips to rub in the sticky substance before tucking it into your coat pocket and smiled at her, bouncing on the tips of your feet. “So? Did you like the show?”
She giggled softly before nodding. “Yeah, I was a big fan of the part where you flipped a million times,” she joked softly while sending her finger into a series of loops to reenact you and your tumbling in the set.
You squealed softly as you clapped your manicured hands together in excitement at her approval. “Yay! It was supposed to be a thousand, but I added another just for you!” You beamed up at her with a wink.
With the time she’s known you, she wasn’t sure if you were joking, or genuinely thought simply adding another thousand would amount to a million, but the look on your face was enough to keep her mouth shut.
“Well, should we go?” She gestured out to the parking lot ahead, the majority of it pretty clear since it had been some time since the game ended and she waited on you, happy to find a way out of enduring traffic the rest of the ride to her place.
“Lead the way,” you agreed warmly, taking her hand into your own the moment she began walking.
Ellie tried really hard not to react to the fact that you took her hand in yours. Her shoulder felt stiffer, her face warmer, and her breathing more shallow. She made a mental note to thank every God she’s never prayed to if they blessed her pores to keep her hands from sweating in freezing temperatures from the stadium doors and to your car.
And if her hands did sweat, you respected her dignity and pride enough to not mention it. Instead, you went on and on about the game, and the performance, and your coaches and teammates the entire way there. Where others might've been annoyed with constant babbling, Ellie found it endearing. You never seemed to expect long winded conversation from her, and her lack of social skills was grateful for that.
She even found herself disappointed when you both finally made it to your car, and it was as decked out as you usually were. The seats were covered with animal print seatcover, and your steering was replaced with fur the entire way around. She was sure the amount of bedazzled accessories inside were a driving hazard in the daytime when the sun was out, but she could see the appeal with it all. She could only imagine your reaction to her beat up truck she got as a hand-me-down from her dad that was currently littered with fast food bags and jackets she told herself months ago she’d clean out.
“So,” you started softly, your voice and hand leaving Ellie’s instantly snapped her out of her trance as she watched while you spoke, “now that I’m, like, a total genius when it comes to school…” the both of you laughed for a bit before your smile faltered a bit before making your point,
“Guess this means we won’t be seeing much of each other anymore, huh?” you sounded truly dejected at the idea of seeing less of Ellie, a sentiment she couldn’t pay her previous tutored students to do.
“Uh… well, I mean, you could always just flunk again?” she suggested jokingly, her hands falling into her back pockets with a shrug, giving you a halfhearted smile in an attempt to lift your spirits.
However, that sarcasm seemed to fly over your head as your pout deepened in worries. “That’s a big no, El! If I flunk again, my coach says it’ll be an explosion!” you whined dramatically, the idea of never being allowed on campus again to see Ellie is even worse then ending your guys hour long tutoring sessions.
“Expulsion…” Ellie clarified hesitantly, her brows crinkled in slight confusion with your minor mix up.
“Same thing,” you rolled your eyes with a groan, “we’d literally never hang out again!”
Ellie chewed on her bottom lip at your vent as she watched your hands fold over your chest. “Hey, you know you can always schedule as much as you want, right? I’m not just for one lesson,” she reached out to place a hand on your arm, her voice softening to calm you down.
Your pout did soften at her words a bit, but it wasn’t entirely the answer you were looking for. “Or, we could hang out outside of tutoring?” you slowly perked up as you suggested such an offer, the slight shock and blink in Ellie’s eyes making your smile widen.
“Uh–yeah! Of course! Totally, we can hang out… wherever you want to,” the redhead bumbled as her hand left your arm and fell to her ear in a nervous fidget.
And just like a switch, you beamed at her again as if you were never upset. “Perfect! I’ll text you tomorrow and we can hang! It’ll be like a date!” you were already fishing into your purse to unlock your car as Ellie’s reddened even more at your words.
“Wait, a date? We’re going on a date?” her eyes followed you as you went to open the car door. You clung to the door with one arm as you turned to her, finding her frazzled state utterly adorable.
“Yeah, silly, that’s what I just said,” you giggled softly. You tossed your purse into the passenger seat before skipping up to Ellie, your hands fell to her shoulders as you pressed a sticky kiss to her cheek. Her entire body stiffened beneath your hands as you smiled up at her.
“Okay, bye! Text you later!” you called over your shoulder as you turned back around and climbed into your car, leaving her to stand in the cold as you set your music to connect from your phone.
Ellie could only blink as the traces of your lipgloss stood out against her cold cheek. By the time her brain caught up to the rest of her, you had already pulled off and gave a final wave to her while leaving the parking lot.
Ellie waved back, a smile slowly making its way onto her face before she muttered under her breath, “Bye.”
𖦹 𖦹 𖦹
IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOUR MONTHS TO UPLOAD!! i promise i had a good amount written before a really bad ocd spiral lol, and switching meds did NOT help (shocker)
anyways, i hope you guys enjoy!! i didn’t expect people to want a part two, and i guess i’m not against making more parts if you guys would like, besides, i’m using this blog to work on my writing in the first place, especially because i plan to go back to school for writing :3
any critiques, or suggestions are welcome, don’t be shy!! i have my asks open, and like i said, i wanna work on my writing, so i’m gonna try really hard to be very active!! also, i have another ellie x reader wip in my google docs that i need to finish, so hopefully that’ll be next xx
for those who commented for a part two on part one: @xoxo-macie994 @elsdolly @theeprettiestlittleliar <3
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how she'd be standing outside to keep the smoke from sticking to any of the furniture, and you sitting beside her because the only thing you hate more than the smell of burning tobacco is being away from her
and she'd let you take a hit if you asked, and she laughs that low chuckle she always does because you end up coughing half a lung as the smoke flies from your mouth and fills the chilly air surrounding you both
smoker!ellie patting my back with a smirk as she takes a deep inhale and tells me we all can't be pros...
summary: reader’s coach has warned her that she’s one more failed test away from expulsion, so now she’s found herself in the library, mid gloss swatch, watching the most beautiful girl call herself her tutor
a/n: based off my headcanon list that i decided to expand on for writing practice! you don’t really need to read that to read this, but you totally can, lol!!
warnings: writing practice, hyper-femme reader, reader being karen smith levels of aloof lol
Monday through Friday, Ellie finds herself rushing from the physics wing to the tutoring room with barely any time to breathe. Her backpack was weighing her down with a series of textbooks and binders, and it didn’t help that her hands were carrying the same.
Her Converse clad feet thumped through the halls as she muttered rushed apologies and “excuse me”’s to students hardly escaping her path. It was a miracle she hadn’t tripped and eaten shit by now, but she’s had a pretty good grapple on maneuvering with a shit load of contents in her hand.
With the tutoring room in sight, she slowed her quickened steps to a slight jog, already dreading the next 30 minutes. This student was given to her by the dean of all people, someone who was seemingly on the verge of expulsion, which seemed like a desperate cry for help.
The auburn haired girl knew the only breed of student who could get the dean to grovel for their tuition money was someone who was likely an athlete, and that alone made her want to roll her eyes. Expecting another beefed up jock to sleepily text their way through the session, letting Ellie’s hard work of notes and studying to help them go down the drain as they brushed her off and never returned while sending her a measly $15 for the session.
Using her back, she pushed open the tutoring door to see someone sitting in the seat that allowed them to see her walk in.
But she wasn’t greeted with a jersey number, or athletic wear, no. She was stunned in the doorway to see you dressed in the tightest fitting tank top dawned in loud neon colors and swirls, a jean skirt so small she was sure it could pass as a belt, and the most dramatic pair of strapped sandals she’s sure she’s ever laid her eyes on.
Speaking of eyes, yours blinked up from the compact mirror cradled in your manicured hand as you slowly covered your lips in a sheen layer of lipgloss. Your mascara clad lashes fluttered a little as you looked her up and down, a look Ellie could only describe as intrigue reflecting in your attentive pupils.
You smacked your lips a few times before you folded your mirror away and shoved it into your purse. “Oh, you must be the tutor!” you smiled widely, so much so, Ellie was curious to know if you were being sarcastic.
“Uh–yeah, actually. I’m, um, I’m Ellie,” she shook her head to rid herself of the embarrassment, likely making a red color showing on her cheeks at her stammered introduction. She readjusted the books and binders in her arms as she moved away from the door to let it shut softly behind her, leaving the two of you alone.
You gave her your name and didn’t shy away for a second in checking her out for a second time. Her thick rimmed glasses were the first thing you noticed, the gloss on your lips catching your reflection, along with the dainty necklace of your name’s initial stared back at you.
The freckles on her face mirrored stars, and her rusty colored hair was tied poorly into a low bun at the back of her head. She wore a plain, grey hoodie, and the tightest pair of skinny jeans you’d seen as of late.
You’d have to ask her where she got them.
While you ogled her appearance with no regard for Ellie’s inner turmoil, she distracted herself by laying all of her supplies out. With only 30 minutes, she knew you weren’t going to get through even a quarter of the material she was told you needed help with. She almost felt flustered at how badly she’d hoped you wouldn’t flake like the others… to be sure you acquired all the necessary material of course! Wouldn’t want one of her tutored pupils to be expelled now, would she?
“No judgement, of course,” she started as she leaned back in her seat and glanced over at you, “but, they said you’re failing three of your classes?” Ellie asked cautiously, almost stressed at the idea on your behalf.
Embarrassment didn’t even seem to pass over you as you let out a dramatic groan and fell into your hands. “Ugh! I know! It totally sucks!” you all but whined while looking at the stack of textbooks Ellie had laid out before you. “I thought the scholarship meant I didn’t have to focus on school so much,” you added to your complaints, pouting your shiny lips.
As badly as Ellie wanted to point out that it meant the complete opposite, she decided to save that fact for another day and instead give you a ray of hope. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, most people I tutor usually make a pretty decent bounce back,” she reassured you with a slight smugness to her tone.
She also made sure not to mention that it applied to the three people that actually made an effort to return to her after the initial session.
Your eyes widened as your smile quickly returned at the news, already feeling better without putting in any of the work. “You’re like my guardian angel!” you cooed, your head falling onto Ellie’s shoulder, forcing her to stiffen in shock as her nose filled with your vanilla scented perfume.
She let out a nervous laugh, hoping you couldn’t hear her beating out of her chest with how close your head was. Attempting to avoid hitting you, she angled her arms weirdly as she pulled open her laptop to show a PDF of an astronomy textbook she still had from her freshman year.
“You take astronomy, right?” Ellie asked, hoping you wouldn’t notice how surprised she sounded. It was a fairly low level and was likely taken as a science credit for whatever you were studying.
You sat up at the cursed topic, your face frowning instantly. “I thought we were gonna be talking about planets and shit, but it’s a bunch of math,” you rolled your eyes in annoyance, resting your head in your hands as Ellie scrolled to the section she planned to touch on for your guys' lesson.
“Yeah, people tend to forget the physics part of astrophysics,” Ellie chuckled softly as you fell into a state of disinterest.
She was sure this was the part where you mentally check out, so she was prepared to subtly change the course of the session. Most people would feign interest for a good 5 minutes until it was obvious she was speaking to herself, so she often just made it a habit to teach the unimportant so it felt like she was still doing her job.
Astronomy was actually her strong suit, though, and her main interest! She was ready to revisit topics she had forgotten slightly, or even remind herself of her favorites, but it seemed you had other ideas.
“What’s your zodiac sign?”
You had asked with such innocent curiosity that she found herself answering before she knew it.
“Taurus… why?” the question came out unsure, like she herself didn’t truly know. Which wasn’t completely random. She liked the stars, sure, but studying their spiritual meaning didn’t move her nearly as much as the science behind them.
“Won’t I need to know? For the material?” you stated like it was a fact; like Ellie, and her abundance of open tabs and color-coded notes was the one who was unprepared.
“Uh, no, you won’t need to know astrology for astronomy,” she answered sarcastically as she clacked away at her laptop–not even meaning to be mean, but because she was sure you were being sarcastic as well.
Your lack of a comeback was what proved her wrong. She glanced at you from the side of her glasses as you seemed to ponder her response. Your nail had tapped against your lip for a bit as you went off into a bit of a daze only to land on, “Same difference!”
Ellie’s eyes narrowed at your obliviousness as her hands stalled over the keyboard of her computer.
What was your deal?
With a shake of her head, and a look of suspicious concern for your wellbeing, she finished the rest of the 20 minutes the two of you had together. Configurations, heliocentric explanations, and theories swarmed around your overstimulated mind, and Ellie answered every question you tossed out for her to break it down.
And, man, did she have to break it down.
By the time 5:30 rolled around, you felt like you could rival Einstein! And you expressed your gratitude the only way you knew how.
“Oh, thank you so much, Els! You’re the best!” you squealed as your arms threw themselves around her shoulders as you bounced where you both stood.
Ellie’s eyes widened as a nervous smile took over her. She awkwardly patted your back, not wanting to take it too far in a setting she’s always told herself was merely professional.
“It’s no big deal, really,” she chuckled softly as you pulled away, the various pieces of jewelry on your body glittering under the setting sun that peeked through the blinds of the room.
“It is a big deal! You’re, like, totally gonna save my ass,” you insisted as you pulled out your phone who’s case was as flamboyant as you.
With a quick ask of her Cashapp name, you sent over the amount with a little extra, and skipped your way out of the door.
While Ellie looked over the notification, she had taken her prescription glasses off of her face to clean them, sure she was witnessing a smudge.
The amount itself wasn’t what shocked her, while $50 was a lot higher than the $15 she humbly requested from her customers.
No, it was the note that came attached to the money: “extra $20 bc ur cute ;)”
Ellie’s smile grew so wide that it made her face hurt as she gave the request a red heart reaction.
Math will definitely be your guys' next subject to study.
𖦹 𖦹 𖦹
im so sorry if this sucks, guys!! no one requested this, i just seen how much love the headcanons got, so i took it upon myself to practice my writing while also staying active on this blog. haven’t wrote full out fanfiction since middle school, so i hope this wasn’t unbearable (◞‸ ◟)💧
𓆩 they’re sharing lip gloss between passing periods 𓆪
summary: reader is one final away from being expelled, and ellie’s gpa is unrealistically high
warnings: hyper-feminine reader, readers comically dumb lol, not proofread bc i’m lazy :/
౨ৎ ─ bimbo!reader who is a cheerleader riding off of an athletic scholarship. The only reason her high school grades even made it possible is simply because all the smart kids in the class would do her work for the chance of speaking with her in passing!
౨ৎ ─ nerd!ellie who holds the highest gpa in the entire university and absoluetely works as a TA on the side, and tutors people for pocket change between her ever growing list of courses
౨ৎ ─ bimbo!reader whos pulled aside by her coach during practice being told that if she doesn’t do anything about her grades, she’d literally be expelled
౨ৎ ─ nerd!ellie who’s used to tutoring frat boys, and random students who assumed she’d give them the answers, and then never show up again once they find out they actually have to do the work on their own
౨ৎ ─ nerd!ellie who’s completely cottonmouth when she walks in and sees you in the tightest shirt, smallest skirt, and applying lipgloss in your compact mirror before blinking up at her with your pretty eyes
౨ৎ ─ bimbo!reader who literally perks up when she sees ellie walk in with almost every textbook for your class (you’re practically failing every class) and immediately sets her goal on making her yours
౨ৎ ─ nerd!ellie whos sweating through her shirt because the entire tutoring session goes like:
“okay, you’re supposed to round it up after you solve the equation” ellie explains calmly, her pen tapping against the paper
“oh! wow, ellie, you’re so smart!” you beam excitedly as you run a manicured hand over her arm
ellie’s face grows warm as she avoids eye contact, a smile making its way onto her face, “…thank you”
౨ৎ ─ nerd!ellie who suddenly loves mondays, wednesdays, and fridays at 5pm a whole lot more with you around
౨ৎ ─ bimbo!reader who unironically thinnks ellie is the smartest and coolest person to ever exist. finds her nerdy tangests to be entertaining, and the way she explains scientific theories 1000x more interesting than any old professor
“wait, if it’s a theory… why are we learning it? i thought theories weren’t real?”
“no, it’s… never mind, just choose c”
౨ৎ ─ nerd!ellie who never makes reader feel like an idiot. she calmly explains any question without judgement because it makes her feel smart and needed
౨ৎ ─ bimbo!reader who asks ellie to come to her games so she can watch her tumble. totally points to ellie in the crowd and waves to her with the biggest smile just to ask her after the game on their way back to their respected apartments what her favorite trick was of the night
౨ৎ ─ nerd!ellie who starts showing up later and later to her other tutoring sessions smelling like vanilla purfume with strawberry lipgloss on her lips from an impromtu makeout session at your place just minuetes beforehand
౨ৎ ─ nerd!ellie who 100% plays dnd idc, and bimbo!reader joins bc shes a supportive girlfriend!
౨ৎ ─ bimbo!reader whos a bard that serenades ellie, whos a wizard, everytime she lands a spell. the entire group groans when reader throws her arms around ellie and kisses her cheek in congratulations as ellie’s glasses fog up and she smiles all sheepishly
౨ৎ ─ bimbo!reader who throws a huge graduation party for her and ellie, and doesn’t exclude her girlfriend for one second, just makes her the center of attention while she’s all redfaced and giddy
𖦹 𖦹 𖦹
words cannot describe the series of unfortunate events that fell upon me for the series of months… also… i had a birthday this friday, so yay me!!! hope you guys enjoy!!
a/n: this is like a mini prequel to this oneshot. just a little background on that ellie and reader and their almosts <3 ofc thank u to @elliescoquettegirl & @korn-dawg again for reading this over! ily my babes! comments and reblogs are appreciated ♥︎
Ellie’s leg bounces as she waits for you in your living room, checking the time once more as she knew the two of you had to head out soon. You wanted that ‘element of surprise’ when you showed Ellie your dress for the first time.
When she asked you to prom strictly on ‘friend terms’, she didn’t expect to be this nervous.
Ellie felt her heart pounding in her chest so hard she thought it would crack a rib. Just as she’s about to ask you if you are ready, she hears the door to your bedroom click open from a few feet away. She stands to her feet, pressing a hand over the front of her suit.
The soft sound of heels click down the hall as you approach your living room. Ellie’s eyes widen at the sight of you emerging from behind the wall, her throat closing up from her nerves.
Your hair is tossed a beautiful half-up half-down hair style that frames your face stunningly. Your makeup is patted down to perfection; well, your natural beauty helps with it.
Your dress is something taken out of a rom-com. It fits your figure in the most flattering ways, taking Ellie completely aback. She isn’t blind; everyone knows that you’re gorgeous.
She feels lucky enough to take you to prom.
“Ellie?” Your voice pulls her out of her stare. “You haven’t said a word. Do I look—?”
“You look beautiful. Really beautiful.” She stutters out.
Your soft chuckle causes her cheeks to burn at how much of an idiot she was being around you. You’ve only known each other for half a year at this point.
“Thank you. You look pretty, Ellie.”
Ellie mutters a flustered ‘thank you’ as she steals selfish glances at your beauty. You're her friend. She’s the one who asked you and she’s this blubbering idiot right now.
“Well, c’mon. Ellie, go and stand next to her.” One of your moms grabs Ellie’s arm and pulls you to stand next to you.
With your heels, you’re a few inches taller than Ellie (which she doesn’t mind). The leaving process was a blur of your moms shedding tears over the two of you, Ellie and you being awkwardly adorable and making sure you didn’t trip once you left the house.
You two arrived at the venue that your high school had rented out, immediately conversing with Jesse and Dina.
“Dee, you look stunning.” You gush as you motion to her beautifully styled bun.
“Me? Look at you.” Dina chuckles as she holds your hands as she beams.
Ellie watches the interaction with a soft smile, looking over at Jesse who’s scrolling through his phone. She elbows him and the ribs and motions towards you.
Jesse grunts, muttering a low ‘what?’. She points to you one more time with a raise of her eyebrows. A second passes before he gets the hint.
He says your name with a kind smile. You turn with a small grin, awaiting for what he wants to say.
“You look beautiful.” Jesse then side-eyes Ellie.
You softly thank him before glancing at the line of your peers waiting to get in. Ellie keeps taking quick looks at your side profile, admiring you with guilt blooming in her chest. She just can’t look away from you.
Every time you speak to her, she can feel her hands getting clammy and the back of her neck heating up. What is with her?
As the four of you enter the venue, your eyes catch a photobooth in the corner. You immediately reach for Ellie’s tux sleeve and tug her towards it.
“Ellie, they got a photobooth. C’mon. Let’s go before it gets crowded.”
Ellie lets herself get dragged by you to the photo booth, heat trickling up from the tip of her fingers to the apples of her cheeks. Your heels click against the floor, making Ellie smile at how giddy you are to be here.
“This is so cute.” You gush as you push back the navy blue curtain to sit in the small space.
Ellie scooches in next to you and shuts the curtain.
“Els, which design should we get?” You press the button on the interface.
Ellie tries not to focus on how your soft shoulders are pressed up against the cheap material of her tuxedo.
“Hmm, definitely the ‘best night ever’ one.” She chuckles as she points at the corny design.
You nod in agreement. Ellie presses the countdown button for the photos, adjusting herself in her seat.
“Wait, we didn’t talk about poses!” You say in a panicked tone through a chuckle.
In a panic, Ellie just rests her head against yours. You do the same with a gentle smile, staring right into the camera. Ellie chuckles as the flash goes off.
“Okay, okay. Spies now!” Ellie instructs as she turns her back to you.
You’re quick to copy, clasping your hands together in a mock gun with puckered lips. Ellie does the same as she sets her face in a serious tone. The flash goes off again causing you both to relax.
“Shit, ummm,” you try to think of another one.
Ellie, for some reason, leans into the side of your face about to kiss the skin. Frantic to recover, she opens her mouth to bite your cheek. She’s expecting you to smack her arm and push her off.
What she wasn’t expecting is for you to laugh loudly at the feeling. She smiles against your cheek at the beautiful sound. She’s too caught up in the sight of you enjoying yourself to notice the last two flashes of photos going off.
“Hopefully, those came out good.” You chuckle as you turn your head to glance at Ellie.
Ellie’s heart pumps faster the second your eyes lock. She isn’t able to embarrass herself any further as a familar voice cuts through her mind.
“Guys, c’mon. Jesse and I want photos too!” Dina huffs from behind the curtain.
You and Ellie snort at her attitude as you two shuffle out of the confined space, sending Dina a glare. She sticks her tongue out at Ellie before grabbing Jesse’s hand to take your places.
“Ugh, they’re gonna make out in there until a chaperone gets on their asses.” Ellie gags as you quickly swipe the two sets of photos from the outside of the booth.
You hold up the black and white photos to Ellie’s face, hooking your arm onto hers as you beam over the strips.
“These are so cute. Here.” You place one in her hand and slip the other one into your cutesy purse. “Now we both get one.”
Ellie runs her thumb over the bottom photo of you laughing beautifully; the way it’s obvious how much she adores you in the way she looks at you.
“I’ll cherish it forever.” She hums as she puts it inside of her jacket.
You narrow your eyes at her. “You better.”
Ellie nods as she walks with you to find a table for your small group. The night passes just as Ellie had thought.
An hour of eating lukewarm food, doing well known line dances the best she could and keeping Jesse from spending the limited money his mom gave him on the raffle. You, of course, were breathtaking through it all.
Some well known football players shared the same thought. Ellie had been grabbing you more lemonade when she turned to see a trio of them talking to you with overbearing confidence as you were just trying to grab your seconds of fruit.
“Damn, I didn’t know you could look this good.” She hears from the tallest blonde.
You send him a tight-lipped smile before avoiding their eye-line, desperately searching around the room. Your eyes find hers with discomfort written all over your face. Ellie immediately makes her way over with furrowed brows, prepared to tell any of them to fuck off.
“My date’s coming over. Bye, guys.” You walk away to meet Ellie in the middle.
You chuckle as you gingerly take your cup of lemonade from Ellie, shaking your head as you turn to look at the trio again. Ellie ignores the way her heart flutters when you acknowledge confidently that she’s your date.
“They were bothering you.” Ellie says flatly.
“I’m fine, Els. It was all passive-aggressive compliments.” You scoff as you take a sip from the cup.
“Well, c’mon. Let’s go and sit down.” Her eyes are still locked on the group, jealousy and anger bubbling in her throat.
You nod and follow her to sit down with Jesse and Dina. The four of you go back to making small talk.
“That’s why they don’t have dates.” Dina quips as you’re telling her about what happened just a few minutes ago.
A soft slow song that is for sure from the 80’s echoes over the speakers, couples finding one another. Jesse leads Dina to the dance floor, sending Ellie an encouraging wink which causes her to flip him off from behind you. You sigh at the sight of people leaning against one another, shy and cute smiles being exchanged. Ellie sees the glint of sadness in your eyes and sucks in a stabilizing breath before standing to her feet.
She turns to your seated position and reaches a hand out to you. Your eyes follow to her standing figure and let out an amused chuckle.
“Els, just ‘cause you’re my date doesn’t mean we have to–”
“That’s exactly why. Plus,” Ellie grins sheepishly. “I don’t want to waste my dad’s dancing lessons.”
Your smile grows into a bigger one at her confession, looking back at her held out palm. Playfully rolling your eyes, you place your hand in hers.
Ellie squeezes your hand gently to try and calm herself down. Weaving through her peers, she makes sure to look back at you to see that you don’t regret this. When she sees your timid smile, a heat burns onto her cheeks.
Finally, you two find a empty spot on the dance floor. Ellie turns to you with a nervous chuckle as she carefully settles her hands on your waist. You rest your forearms on her shoulders as you begin to sway slowly to the gentle tune.
“So,” you purse your lips, tilting your head down at Ellie that makes her feel like melting into the floor. “How’s your night?”
Ellie hums to herself, squinting her eyes as she pretends to think.
“Well, the food sucks and this suits kind of itching me because I thrifted it.” Ellie shrugs her shoulders. “But I’m dancing with you so it’s not that bad.”
“Sounds like an amazing night to me,” you chuckle softly, stepping just an inch closer to move out of the way as people were breezing past you.
Ellie’s eyes flicker down to your glossy lips, pupils dilating when she catches herself. Your eyes follow across Ellie’s freckles and the bridge of her nose.
“Those dance lessons are really kicking in, Els,” you lean in to scrunch your face in hers, clearly teasing her.
Ellie feels her face light aflame at how she could smell your perfume and how pretty you look under this orchid and violet hue. For a split second, she swears she sees you glance her lips just as she did to you.
Was it the atmosphere talking? Or is Ellie finally realizing that maybe her wanting to be your friend isn’t really friendly at all?
It happens so in the blink of an eye; you’re both slowly leaning in to one another. Ellie releases a shaky breath like a loser when she sees your lips curl into a shy grin.
Is she going to have her first kiss with you?
The scratch of the DJ causes you two to jump and look away from one another, immediately ruining Ellie’s fantasy.
“Y’all know this one. Get out on that dance floor, everybody!” He shouts from his mixing table.
Ellie clears her throat as she scratches the back of her neck, releasing you with an awkward chuckle.
“We got to slow dance for like two minutes but whatever.” You roll your eyes playfully and nudge Ellie’s shoulder with yours.
“Right. Yeah.” She nods.
Should she ask if they were about to kiss? No. No, she didn’t want to make things more awkward for the two of you.
Just enjoy the night with her, she tells herself.
Jesse and Dina scoot in right next to you two, letting themselves dance freely to the song. You do the same as you motion for Ellie to join, inviting her next to you.
Yeah, she’s okay with this. Anything to have you by her side.
“ We need love
But all we want is danger
We team up
Then switch sides like a record changer
The rumors are terrible and cruel
But honey, most of them are true ”
- New Romantics, Taylor Swift
main masterlist
summary: college smau. you thought you’d seen it all as the campus matchmaker. but you never expected to end up starring in your own love story the moment ellie williams became your client.
status: ongoing / finished
mar's note: this is a crack fic. don’t take it seriously. it’s meant to be silly!!
comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
what do you think camgirl ellie's streams would consist of? especially nsfw
i feel like in the beginning she absolutely RAN from any form of dildo then warmed up to it
oh, definitely scared. she’s taken nothing more than her fingers, so the idea of something different, and bigger, totally intimidates her.
probably gets one as a gift from a sub, or something, and she finally promises to use it on camera, and her viewers love it and so does she
i also think she’d be big into edging. like, she sets a goal, and she has to edge herself and can’t cum until the goal is reached, and it can sometimes take all night lmao
it gets really good the closer her donos are to the goal is because she’s just whimpering and begging everyone to let her cum bc people are donating $1 every 10 minutes just to keep her going </3
yousharknotpass
turnnoffyourmind
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dailybridgerton
