mechanic!ellie x female!reader
The smoke is what finally forces you to pull over.
You reach for your phone, eyes fixed on the thin gray plume curling up from beneath the hood of your small, and very chic, car.
“Unbelievable,” you mutter under your breath.
You call your dad, pacing along the shoulder while the phone rings. It takes three tries before he answers, and you swear you can hear the sigh before he even speaks.
“What is it now, sweetheart?”
“Dad,” you pout, gaze still glued to the hood. “There’s smoke coming out of my baby.”
He walks you through a few things to try, but nothing changes. Just when you’re starting to panic, he pauses, then mentions a garage nearby, someone he trusts to handle it properly.
The moment you step inside the building, you feel out of place. The air smells like oil and metal, and the sounds are unfamiliar. Still, you swallow your discomfort for the sake of your car.
“Hello?” you call out, arms folding around yourself.
A woman slides out from under a car, hair pulled back into a messy bun, freckles bright against her skin. She wipes her hands on a rag before looking you over. The second her eyes meet yours, a nervous warmth spreads through your chest.
“Hi,” she says. “What can I help you with?”
You hold her gaze a beat too long. “I think my car’s broken,” you manage to let out.
She nods and cleans her hands again. “Mind if I take a look?”
Anywhere you want, actually—You immediately cringe at the thought and clear your throat. “Uh—yeah. Sure.”
Outside, she crouches by your car, pops the hood, and leans in. You watch her hands move with practiced ease, like she knows exactly what she’s searching for.
“You drive it hard?” she asks without looking up.
You scoff. “Absolutely not. She’s delicate.”
She hums, something like amusement in the sound. “Right.”
She straightens and finally really looks at you.
“I’m Ellie, by the way” she says. You tell her yours. “Alright,” she says calmly. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”
An hour passes. Then two.
You’re perched on a stool near the workbench, pretending to scroll through your phone while sneaking glances at her. Ellie explains things without talking down to you, occasionally glancing over like she’s checking you’re still there.
“So,” you say lightly, “do you always make first-time customers wait this long?”
She doesn’t look up. “Only when the problem’s stubborn.”
She pauses, then glances at you, a small smile clinging onto her lips. “I don't mind the company.”
There it is. Definitely flirting.
You lean back, emboldened. “Careful there.”
Ellie snorts softly. She finishes up a couple of minutes later, hands you the keys, and explains the fix. When you thank her, she nods like it’s no big deal, and as you grab your wallet from your purse to pay, she shakes her head, shrugging and smiling about how this time it was on her.
You’re back two days later.
This time it’s something about ‘a noise.’
Ellie listens patiently. “You hear it now?”
You tilt your head, both of you well aware there’s no noise to worry about. “No.”
She stares at you for a second, then sighs, amused. “Pop the hood.”
She fixes it in fifteen minutes, but keeps you there for two hours.
You talk about nothing important. Music, food, how your dad swears by her garage. Ellie’s calm never wavers, but she starts smiling more when you talk.
By the second week, she greets you by name.
“Car acting up again?” she asks.
She shakes her head, and your belly flips, a normal thing that has been happening a lot when you’re around her.
Finally, one quiet afternoon, Ellie leans against the workbench and looks at you carefully when you walk in, a sheepish smile on your glossy lips.
“Hey,” she says. “You don’t actually need your car checked today, do you?”
You open your mouth, close it, and then shrug. “No.”
She nods once. “Okay.” A beat. “Then maybe,” she adds, “I could take you out instead.” Your heart jumps. “Dinner,” she continues. “Tonight?”
The familiar bell over the garage door jingles as you kick it shut behind you.
“Baaabe,” you call out, already breathless, arms overloaded with glossy shopping bags that bump against your legs. “You are not going to believe the day I’ve had—”
Your girlfriend’s bent over an open hood, grease-streaked forearms flexing as she works a stubborn bolt loose with a hex wrench. An old Aerosmith song murmurs from the radio, barely louder than the fan humming in the corner. She doesn’t look up, but the corner of her mouth lifts anyway.
You drop the bags with an exaggerated thud beside the tool bench.
“Okay—no—listen,” you go on, words spilling out as you pace toward her. “Because whoever decided fitting room lighting should be that aggressive deserves prison. Like, maximum security. I still looked incredible, obviously, but that’s not the point—”
Ellie hums, leaning further over the hood, shoulders rising and falling slowly. She looks tired, but comfortable. You step right into her space, reaching up automatically to smooth back the damp strands of hair clinging to her forehead.
“Babe,” you pout, manicured fingers cupping her cheek. “The woman at that new shop? She was so mean to me and Debbie.”
That finally gets her attention. Ellie tilts her head into your palm, eyes soft, steady on your face. “Yeah?” she says calmly. “What’d she do?”
Ellie exhales a quiet laugh through her nose. “What a bitch.”
You huff in agreement. “I know, right?”
She straightens just enough to look at you properly, grease and sweat and all, and still like you’re the prettiest thing she’s seen all day. Which, to her, you are.
“So,” she asks, voice full of love, “what did you buy, baby?”
Your whole expression changes. Brightens. You lean in and press a quick kiss to the bridge of her nose, already gearing up.
“Okay, first of all—shoes. Then some super cute pajamas with matching slippers. A pair of skirts and a dress, and some makeup I needed. And—” you lower your voice dramatically, “—I have a surprise for you tonight when you come home.”
That does it. Ellie’s hands slide to your hips, firm and familiar, thumbs pressing in just slightly. The exhaustion in her face fades, replaced by something much more awake. Focused entirely on you.
“Yep,” you say, batting your lashes playfully.
She studies you for a second, calm as ever. Then she leans in and smacks a soft kiss to your lips.
By the time the sun sets, Ellie’s still moving around the garage, restless. You glance up from your magazine and smirk when you catch the faint smear of pink gloss on her lips.
“You shouldn’t work this much,” you say, flipping the page.
She doesn’t even look up. “Then who’s gonna pay for your daily shopping trips?”
You roll your eyes, though your mouth curves around a smile. It’s hard not to stare. Ellie’s ditched her shirt, arms and stomach on full display, skin slick with sweat and streaked with grease. Your patience’s running low with every tick from the hanging clock.
You scoff. “I didn’t even finish!”
Ellie finally looks over, calm as ever. “Didn’t need to.”
You huff, shifting in your seat. “What do I have to do to change your mind?”
She shrugs, infuriatingly relaxed. “Gotta call Jesse about work.”
“Why can’t you do that at home?” you push.
Her eyebrow lifts just slightly. Instead of answering, she walks over to her desk, grabs her phone, and pats her thigh once.
“C’mere,” she says. “You can sit with me while I finish up.”
You narrow your eyes, arms crossing as you debate, clearly displeased at how quickly she turned the tables, but also very aware of how good that offer sounds. After a second, you sigh and give in.
“Thought so,” Ellie murmurs as you settle onto her lap. “Not so hard, right?”
Her arm wraps around you easily. “Now just sit there and look pretty while I handle this. Think you can manage that for me?”
You rest your temple against her shoulder and hum, satisfied.
The call lasts an hour and thirty-eight minutes. You know because you counted.
When Ellie finally hangs up, your limbs are useless, melted from the steady rhythm of her hand moving up and down your back, and the soft kisses pressed into your hair. Even though she knows you’re still awake, she lifts you anyway effortlessly, and carries you out to the car like you weigh nothing at all.
She buckles you in, loads the shopping bags into the trunk, then ducks back inside for her things.
And when she finally drives home, one hand stays on your thigh the whole way.
At the apartment, Ellie doesn’t even pretend to set you down.
She kicks the door shut behind her and carries you straight inside, arms tucked securely beneath your knees and back. You laugh softly, fingers curling into her hoodie.
“I know,” she says, calm, fond. “But I don’t want you to.”
She sets you on the bathroom counter and immediately reaches for your cleanser, and although she’s done it a thousand times before, your heart still flipped at the thought of Ellie remembering your whole silly night routine.
“Eyes closed,” she murmurs.
You obey, smiling when she leans in to kiss your forehead once she’s done.
“Okay,” she says. “Go get comfy.”
While Ellie heads to the kitchen, you fill the tub for her. You light a candle and fold a couple of towels and her pajamas for her.
Once you make your way back into the kitchen, Ellie’s at the stove, sleeves rolled up. You slip your arms around her waist from behind, resting your cheek against her back.
“There’s a bath waiting for you, my knight in shining armor,” you whisper.
Ellie exhales slowly, leaning back into you. One of her hands comes up to rest over yours. “Yeah?” she says softly.
“Mm-hm. Exactly how you like it.”
She tilts her head just enough to brush a kiss against your temple. “You’re spoiling me. Y’know it’s supposed to be the other way around,”
You smile. “That’s silly. Now go enjoy it, okay?”
“Only if you join me.” Ellie turns, wraps her arms around you, and presses a lingering kiss to your lips. “And after we eat.”
Your eyes shine with mischief as you whisper a small okay.
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