Hello! Welcome to my blog, this page is mostly to hold all of my favorite stories but can also be seen as recommendations for others.
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Reading Lists: (So far)
Stranger Things:
Steve Harrington Pt 2.
The Last of Us:
Ellie Williams
The Pitt: WIP
Marauders: WIP
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I am definitely not the first person to do this so all love to those who do. I thought I would join in considering most of my stories take an obscene amount of room in my notes. Anyways enjoy!
(You might be the love of Jack Abbot’s life, but are you aware there is another?)
Fax me your love (Jack Abbot x fax machine)
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“Found it!” You called out, carrying the fax machine out.
The fax machine mechanic on the printer wasn’t working so Dana asked you to go dig out the old fax machine.
“Jesus that thing is ancient.” Santos muttered as Dana started to hook it up.
“Oh that fax machine.. one of the best creations on earth.” Abbot said, walking over and patting the fax machine, “This thing faxes stuff amazing.. I can tell.” He purred.
“Robby.. Dr. Abbot wants to fuck the fax machine.” You called out, slowly backing up.
“Baby.. I don’t wanna fuck the fax machine. Cant a man just admire the beauty of it?” He asked, rubbing the sides of the fax machine.
“Quit touching!” Dana snapped, hitting his hand away.
“We had to use these back when I was in residency.” Abbot explained, looking it up and down.
“Yea back when you had to chart by candle light.” Joy muttered.
Everyone dispersed, except for Abbot. He stayed watching over the fax machine, gently feeding it stuff to fax.
“Is this his breaking point?” Robby mumbled to you, “I thought he was doing good in therapy.”
“He was! I don’t know what the fuck he is on.” You whispered, “I don’t know what’s weirder, the fact he keeps petting it or the fact he calls it baby.”
“Both are weird. Both are weird.” Robby mumbled and stalked off.
“Oh Dr. Abbot press my buttons harder.” Trinity mocked behind you, “Beep Boop- ow!” Trinity whined as you smacked her arm.
“Quit it.” You hissed, “Get back to work.”
She rubbed her arm and retreated into a patients room, leaving you watching abbot touch the fax machine gently.
“God I wish he would touch me like that.” You mumbled and went back to work.
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Soon the shift ended and Dana had asked you to take the fax machine back to the supply closet.
You started to unhook it when Jack stopped you.
“Let me.. she’s delicate.” Jack cooed and you slowly turned to glare at him.
“Jack are you in love with the fax machine? Am I the other woman?” You snapped and Jack froze.
“I-I what? Who’s in love with a fax machine?” He laughed nervously.
“Oh my god. You are!” You snapped, “Go say goodbye to your precious fax machine then!”
He sighed and gently hugged it, “Goodbye Faxy, I’ll miss your loud noises.”
“Faxy? YOU NAMED IT?” You screeched as Jack handed it to you.
“Now go.. before I start to cry!” He sobbed and ran to the locker room.
You sighed and headed to the storage room. You set down the fax machine and leaned in.
“Back off my man.” You hissed and soon left the room, leaving the fax machine in the dark.
The fax machine wouldn’t get in the way of you and Jacks relationship anymore.
————-————-————-————-——————-———
That night while the two of you cuddled in bed together, Jack was on his phone scrolling Amazon.
“What are you doing?” You mumbled and look at his phone, “Jack knock it off with the fax machines!”
“Listen! I miss having one!” He whined and set his phone down, “You know no one could replace you.”
“I am not jealous of the fax machine!” You whined and turned away from him. “Goodnight Jack.”
“Goodnight Faxy- I MEAN BABY!” Jack said and you tensed up.
“Oh come on!” You snapped and headed to sleep on the couch.
You were truly the other woman in this relationship now.
꣑ৎsteve teaches you how to cuddle꣑ৎ
fem reader x steve harrington
large text version here!
The bubble around you wasn't a wall, but you didn't know how to tell anyone else that. Having a boyfriend was a mystery because Steve seemed to want to touch you. You somehow weren't used to it even after two and a half months of dating.
He was so casual, but it was monumental to you. The way he'd casually reach for your hand and twist his fingers between yours made your heart jump. Last week, when you were lounging by his pool in a pink bikini with your eyes shut behind your sunglasses, he snuck up and threw you over his shoulder, pressing a kiss to your hip that made you go soft.
It was a wonder how his touch and the look on his face melted you inside. No boy had ever made you feel this way and you were glad for it. His touch made you feel safe, the way he could move you a testament to love, not control.
Now you were dreaming of it, even though he was just in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you sat on his bed in one of his t-shirts. This was the first time you'd sleep over with him.
It was late by the time you finished your movie, and Steve asked so easily that your 'yes' came just the same. The next thing you knew, he was pulling out a new toothbrush and handing you something to sleep in. His bed was big enough for the both of you to have plenty of space, but you suspected it wouldn't end up that way.
Fidgeting with your fingers, you turned the idea of sleeping so close to him over in your head. Nothing you'd ever done with a boy had come close to this. Then again, no boy's proximity made you melt the way Steve did.
He was a vision when he returned; it was nearly angelic. You smiled up at him, hands in your lap, legs crisscrossed. "Hi."
"Hi, baby." Steve was beaming. He tossed his clothes in the laundry and sat by you, warm palm finding your knee. "You look cute."
Goosebumps prickled on your thigh. His hair was damp, and he wasn't wearing a shirt, striped pajama pants sitting low on his hips. "You're…pretty."
Internally, you cringed, but he smiled, brown eyes warm. "Thanks." Rubbing your leg, he shifted to lift the blanket. "You sleepy?"
"A little." You leaned against the headboard and his arm slid around your waist.
"Is that comfy?" Steve patted your side, nudging you to lay on him instead. "C'mere. I'm softer than the wall."
You slowly eased onto him, your head dropping to his shoulder. He smelled like his shampoo. When he touched his lips to your forehead, you settled further into him. You let your eyes fall shut.
"Wanna lay down, sweetie?" His voice was so gentle. It was peaceful in here, a bubble you wanted to curl up in.
"If you want to."
Steve shifted downwards, cradling you close. You felt awkward, your limbs out of place. Were you supposed to drape yourself over him? Stay perfectly still? When it was time to sleep did you seperate yourself from him?
"I can hear you up here." He poked your head and you smiled. "What's goin' on? You okay?"
You flushed hot. "It's silly."
"Hm?" His arm was around your shoulders, and your hands were folded on your chest. Steve's eyes were soft. "Everything okay?"
"Yes." You moved your gaze to the ceiling. "I don't know how to do this."
"Do what?" He turned on his side, a worry line etched between his eyebrows.
"Um." You mirrored him, eyes wide. "I don't know how to lay. Where should I be?"
His smile was precious. "You don't know how to cuddle?"
Your cheeks were on fire, and you dipped your head, more embarrassed than you'd ever been in your life. Swallowing, you fidgeted with your fingers. "Never mind."
"No, no," he soothed, reaching for you. "I'm sorry, baby. It's okay."
"It's stupid." You stared at your hands until his palm tilted your cheek to him.
"No." Steve kissed your temple, smoothing your hair from your face. "Sweetie, I shouldn't have said it like that. I want you to be able to tell me whatever you want."
"I've never spent the night with someone before," you said, walls crumbling when you looked at him. "I just…yeah. I don't know how to cuddle."
He smoothed his hand over your waist. "You do. You just don't know it."
"Hm?" You blinked at him and he scooted away, turning onto his back and opening his arms.
"C'mere. Just do what feels right." Steve smiled encouragingly. "I know you can do it."
Scrunching your brow, you let your hand fall over his chest. He nodded, the pads of his fingers bunching together and apart over your back. "You can do whatever you want. Tell me what you want."
You tentatively rested your head on his shoulder, your arm falling over his midsection. He was so warm. It made you smile. Chasing the feeling, you snuggled into his side.
Steve reached down, hooking his fingers under your leg and pulling it to rest on his. "This okay?"
"Mhm." A delicious, sleepy feeling was overtaking you.
"You're perfect." He kissed your hair.
"You're my pillow," you said into him.
"Sure am." He planted a few kisses on your head. "I'm whatever you want."
You had nightmares about days like today. In your haze of a headache, you'd somehow managed to drive home safe. Collapsing on your sofa, you massaged your head, groaning a little when the phone rang.
After letting it ring for a moment, you stood and picked it up, managing a weak greeting.
"Hi. What's goin' on, sweetie?" Even the sound of Steve's voice took a weight off your shoulders.
You cradled the phone like it was his hand. "I'm…I'm okay."
"You sure?" His voice was gentle, and you yearned for his warm body on yours.
"Just a tough day." You shifted on your feet.
"Wanna come over?"
The thought of driving was unbearable. Your head was hurting too badly and you felt weary, the demands of the day sapping up every drop of energy in your body.
"I'm ordering a pizza soon. We can get pineapple." He sounded hopeful.
"I don't know if I can," you said softly, leaning on the wall.
"I'm coming to get you."
"Hm?"
"I'll be there in a few. Change into somethin' comfy." When you started to protest, he hung up.
You donned a pair of black leggings and a grey sweatshirt, sitting down by the couch and pulling your knees into your chest. Resting your forehead on your kneecaps, you tried to breathe. The idea that he was coming soon eased your headache a little, but you still wanted a moment to rest, just in case that made it better.
When Steve let himself in, you were still in the same position. He crouched in front of you, lifting your hands into his. "Oh, baby."
Tears pricked your eyes. You didn't mean to cry, but his sweetness after a terrible day was rain breaking a drought. Lifting your head, you saw him, concerned and right and real in front of you.
"Headache?" he asked sympathetically.
"Yeah," you managed, breathing through your nose.
"My poor baby. I've got you, 'kay? We're gonna go eat something at mine." He helped you stand up slowly, slipping his arm around your waist. "There you go. Atta girl."
You were practically leaning on him as he locked your apartment door and helped you in the car and buckled your seatbelt. It almost felt like you had turned to mush and he was carrying on as usual.
The drive was quiet, but he settled one hand on your thigh for you to hold the whole ride. You fidgeted with his fingers until he got out, coming around the other side to open your door.
He didn't turn the lights on when you went inside, kicking off his shoes and relaxing on the couch. You quietly went to him, slumping at his side. Trying to breathe through the pounding at your temples, you let yourself lean down until your head was in his lap, cheek pressed into his thigh.
"Here?" he muttered, lightly thumbing your forehead. You nodded, nearly whimpering at his touch. "Worry headache or somethin' else?"
"Worry," you guessed, relief coating your chest when his fingers started chasing the pain. "Long day."
"Poor baby." He was still working on your head. "'ve you eaten?"
"Not for awhile," you muttered, turning on your side to look up at him.
Steve caressed your head. "We can fix that."
"Okay." You reached over to thread your fingers through his.
"Ordered a pizza before I left to get you. Should be here soon."
It was such a small thing, but it felt like he'd built you a palace. He anticipated what you needed, knew before you yourself did. The way he gravitated to you, made it clear he wanted you near him, wanted to take care of you was a place you'd been so hesitant to sink into, but he eased you into it.
Suddenly, you were blinking back tears, and he frowned, rubbing your side. "Woah, hey. What's the matter, baby?"
"Steve," you breathed, blinking quickly.
"Yeah, Steve's here," he said quietly, searching your eyes. "How's your head? Is it bad?"
"You're being nice," you said softly.
"That's a good thing, sweetie," he promised, smoothing your hair from your face.
You swallowed, sitting up and leaning on your hands. He watched you carefully, ready to reach out if you wanted. "It…even when you touch me it means so much. I'm not used to it."
"Yeah?" He reached out to thumb your cheek, encouraging.
"You…touch me. And care about me. You knew I was having a hard day just from my voice. I feel like too much, like I need too much."
"I think before you've settled for less," he said quietly, and your fingers closed around his wrist, holding him like a security blanket. "This is how we work, baby. We're like this. It fits."
"I love it. I love you," you said, and he cupped your neck.
"I don't know how anybody could look at you and not want to give you everything you want." Steve opened his arms and you settled into his chest, cradled between his legs. "Y'know how much it means to hear how me touching you makes you feel? I feel the same way when we're like this."
"You do?" You turned to look up at him, brow crinkled.
He smoothed it out with his thumb. "You're like…uh…not kryptonite. The opposite of kryptonite. If I was Superman you'd make me stronger."
You giggled, surging forward to kiss him. "You're silly."
Steve grinned, and you ran a hand over his silky hair. "I am."
"I'll cuddle you forever," you said, nuzzled into his chest.
"Can't believe you didn't know how to do this not too long ago," he said, sounding amused.
You rested your chin on his chest, blinking sleepily. "You've created a monster."
"Nah," he said smoothly, dragging his hand up and down your back. "You're comfy. I love it."
"Cuddling's for lots of situations," you mumbled into him.
"I think it's for everything," he commented, and you giggled. "Baby, if anything happens, good or bad, we're gonna cuddle about it."
"Okay." You laid your head down, smiling imagining celebrating every high and low in his arms. Instead of curling into yourself like a flower in the frost, you'd curl into him.
Steve kissed your head and hooked his arms around you. "Pizza soon."
"Hold me 'til then."
"Before, during, after." He nuzzled his nose into your hair. "Yeah, this is the life. I'll miss this when I'm tipping the pizza guy."
summary: dustin henderson never had a good role model when it comes to love and it shows when he gets his first serious crush. but then he looks around and notices the way steve treats you, he realizes he had the best role model this entire time.
warnings: straight fluff, i mean tooth rotting sweetness, steve being completely boyfriendish again, dustin dealing with anxiety, light cursing, fem reader, domesticity again because i love it. just steve being perfect again.
from jen: i've had this in my drafts for weeks but got a surge of inspiration so i finished it and am positing it at 3am! i hope you guys love it as much as i do. i love steve harrington and mileven and lumax! as always, with love <3
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Dustin Henderson had a problem.
A cute as a button, super smart, Suzie – with a Z – problem.
He met a girl he couldn’t get out of his mind no matter how hard he tried, but it wasn’t like he ever actually tried. Suzie was smart, she was sweet, added onto his perfectly timed jokes about the universe. She was perfect for him, all he had to do was make a move.
But it’s been weeks of spending time with her and he still hasn’t. He told himself it was because the timing wasn’t right or the moment wasn’t perfect, but he knew the truth.
Dustin was scared. Not just of rejection, no he was sure Suzie Q shared the same feelings as him. What he was truly scared of was how he had absolutely no idea what he was doing when it came to love and the feelings adjacent. He loved his mother, she was his favorite person in the world, but it’s always been only him and her.
After his dad split, she never moved on. She was .. eccentric so to speak, an acquired taste, and she wasn’t the kind of woman who was going to prioritize a man’s comfort over her own happiness, so she opted to staying single and raising her son. Dustin didn’t mind, not even a bit. He loved growing up with his mom. But he’d be lying if he said this was the one downside to his childhood.
He didn’t have a real example of how love should look. How could he possibly be any good at it? He was sure he would screw it up with Suzie, and he really didn’t want to.
1.
There was new theater opening up in town and with every new movie, the group made plans to see it together every time. Everyone had chosen to meet up at Mike’s house, of course, and would carpool together. Nancy and Jonathan opted to stay home this time but she was nice enough to let Steve drive her car so everyone could fit.
It was a hectic blur of the kids racing each other to the car, everyone wanting to get the best seats in the wagon. Max and Lucas scored the best seats next to each other, right behind the front seats, leaving one left open – which Mike was happy to let Dustin take so he and El could sit together in the far back.
Dustin trudged behind, lost in his thoughts about Suzie. As he rounded closer to the car, he noticed you and Steve not far behind him, talking to yourselves.
Just as you two made it to the car, Dustin watched Steve reach for your door handle and hold it open. Dustin noticed how he didn’t even interrupt the conversation as he did so, or the way you didn’t even flinch at his action. You simply thanked him and slid in, just before Steve made sure your feet were safely tucked inside and pushed the door shut before rounding the car and sliding in himself.
Dustin stumbled into the car, and his mind started wandering. It wasn’t the first time Steve had done that, he always opened the doors for you – car doors, front doors, literally any door around, Steve made sure you didn’t touch it. It was .. sweet.
“Alright, you little shits ready?” Steve announced from the driver seat, grinning at the sound of everyone grumbling about his nickname for them.
This was just the first time Dustin really started to notice the things Steve did for you.
2.
After managing to find and kill a hoard of demogorgons together, Steve and Dustin became pretty much inseparable. In the years following that time, it hadn’t changed, even after you and Steve became official. The duo became a trio.
So when Dustin managed to convince Steve to play in one of his DND campaigns, Steve made sure to bring you along. If he was going to suffer, he was gonna make sure his beautiful girlfriend was nearby.
You’re perched in the passenger seat of his BMW, fingers drumming along to the song playing over the radio. Steve and Dustin are talking, or rather arguing, beside you about the importance of punctuality.
“Steve, it’s my campaign. It’s one of my duties to arrive early enough to set things up properly to ensure the smoothest route into reality shifting fun!”
Steve’s face twists in pure annoyance. “What?”
You giggle to yourself at his expression. You can tell he’s trying to understand what Dustin is talking about but he’s already running on thin patience after even agreeing to this.
He and Dustin continue shouting over each other as Steve pulls into the gas station.
“We don’t have time for gas!” Dustin yells, his fingers wrap around the head rest of Steve’s seat and angrily tugs at it.
Steve hastily parks his car, and whips around, smacking Dustin’s hands away from the leather.
“Henderson, I swear to God, I’m gonna kick your ass to the curb,” He threatens, but there’s no real bite in his tone.
Dustin grumbles under his breath, sinking back into his seat with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Steve turns towards you, his face losing it’s playful annoyance and morphing into something softer.
“Y’want anything, babe?”
“Yeah, I’ll take a pack of Twizzlers!” Dustin quips from behind you guys.
You stifle a laugh while Steve grimaces, sending a deadly side eye to his best friend in the back seat.
You control your laughter to smile at him and shake your head. “I’m good, thank you,”
Steve smiles back, nodding once before snagging his wallet and rushing out of the car and into the store. You and Dustin make small conversation while he’s gone, talking about the campaign and some stupid idea the other guys in the club had that he immediately shut down.
It’s a few minutes when Steve emerges from the store with a bag in hand, and finishes pumping the gas. Steve grunts as he drops back into his seat, setting the bag down between you and him.
You barely notice as he rummages through it. There’s a pack of gum, a small blue Gatorade – his favorite – a pack of Twizzler’s and a full size Butterfinger chocolate bar – your favorite. Steve quickly tosses the pack of red vines to Dustin in the back and happily hand you the candy bar.
Dustin notices the way you light up at the sight of your favorite candy. You happily say your thanks before tearing the packaging open and taking a bite. Steve smiles and as fast as the moment happens, it’s over and Steve is driving away again.
It’s completely normal, a simple and insignificant moment none of you would even remember in a week but it sticks with Dustin. You hadn’t even asked for it, actually you declined the offer, but Steve still came back with something for you and you loved it. It was like he knew you better than you even knew yourself.
3.
The third time Dustin really noticed how far Steve would go for you was when Steve decided to take everyone out for breakfast – his treat, he said. It was as chaotic as every other moment and by the time everyone was barreling out of the car to get in the restaurant, Steve was threatening to never do it again.
Everyone knew he was lying.
Like always, Dustin noticed the way Steve jumped out of the car and jogged around to open the car door for you, even offering you his hand to help you out. Dustin watched Steve hold the door of the restaurant open, sticking his arm out to thud against Will’s chest when he tried entering before you. And he noticed when he pulled out the table chair for you, gently pushing you toward the table once you sat comfortably and then taking the seat beside you.
Every movement of his was easy and casual – like it was as instinctual to him as breathing was.
Within twenty minutes of ordering, the food began to come out and settle across the table. Steve was one of the first to get his plate, but Dustin noticed how he didn’t even lift a fork until your plate was sitting in front of you.
Today, you had decided to try something new. Instead of your usual order, you took the waitresses recommendation of the special – some sandwich she raved about. You picked up one of the triangle halves and bit into it, and immediately regretted it.
While the waitress made it a point to really sell you on the sandwich, it was not good. Maybe that was harsh – it wasn’t disgusting, it was just filled with every condiment you hated. Even pickles were involved.
You had to physically stop yourself from spitting out the small bite you managed, but there was no stopping the sour look on your face.
And of course, Steve noticed. He paused mid fry and turned towards you.
“You don’t like it?” His brows are pulled together, a small frown forming on his face at the sight of your discomfort.
You quickly shake your head. “No, no, it’s good!” You lie.
Steve didn’t even try to make it seem like he believed you before he was lifting his plate and switching it with yours.
“You can have mine,” He said.
“Steve, it’s okay really,” You tried to protest, but he wasn’t having it.
“Don’t worry about it, I love these kinds of sandwiches,” He reassures. Your gaze softens and you glance down at the food Steve ordered.
A perfectly made cheeseburger, just the way you like it. It practically taunts you. You’re a big girl, you should be able to eat what you ordered even if you don’t like not. You shouldn’t inconvenience your boyfriend.
But that burger looks so good.
Steve gently nudges your shoulder, gesturing towards the plate and you cave.
Dustin watches the entire interaction across the table and how your shoulders immediately loosen once you take your first bite. Steve seems happy enough now that you’re eating and takes his own first bite of the sandwich.
He doesn’t seem to mind the switch, but a part of Dustin wonders if Steve ordered the cheeseburger the way you liked it just in case.
4.
You, Robin and Dustin were hanging out at Steve’s house while you all waited for his shift at Family Video to be over. There was a rerun of an old 70s movie playing, and Robin is watching intently when Dustin asks if you can help him make some popcorn.
You’re barely halfway into unwrapping the bag when Steve gets home. You both glance up at the sound of keys jingling and the unmistakable feeling of his presence. Your smile is wide at the sight of him, a few grocery bags in one hand and the other holding a bouquet of pink tulips.
Your favorite.
Steve makes his way further into the kitchen, setting down the bags and holding the bouquet towards you. Dustin watches as you both mirror the same smile, easily falling into place against each other.
“Thought you might like these,” He murmured, raising his free hand to push a strand of hair from your face. Your eyes were glowing as you admired the flowers in his hand, a gleeful smile on your face.
“I love them!” You gushed, looking back up at him. Steve’s smile widened and Dustin was sure he could see his heart grow three sizes in his chest.
This wasn’t the first time Steve bought you flowers. In fact, he did it quite often. If he passed them in the grocery store, a new bouquet was coming home with him. If you had a rough day, he cheered you up with some daisies. If you had a great day, he was celebrating it with some roses.
He didn’t care if he ‘wasted money’ on things that would inevitably die. You loved flowers and he knew it, and he would do anything to make you happy.
Dustin couldn’t stop staring at you two in front of him, so lost in each other but then Steve suddenly remember he was also there.
“Hey, Henderson. You good?”
All he could do was nod.
5.
The last time it really hit him was when Dustin asked Steve if he could drive him to a study hall across town. He agreed, of course, but Dustin was surprised to see you weren’t already with Steve. When he asked about it, Steve just mentioned how you offered to babysit Holly for Mrs. Wheeler.
The ride was smooth, some light conversation and normal teasing but as Dustin glanced over to Steve, his eye caught on the two pictures resting against his dashboard. One was a black and white photo strip, you and Steve posed in various ways together, from the movie theater photobooth. The other was a polaroid photo of you by yourself – wearing a pink dress, sitting atop a blanket in the grass and smiling sweetly into the camera.
It was the perfect capture of your and Steve’s relationship, and also the way Steve saw you – gross and in love together and so effortlessly beautiful on your own. But something else tugged at his chest. The way these pictures were placed tightly behind the dashboard and perfectly in view for Steve only.
It was his way of having you with him when you weren’t around, even if no one else saw. Something just for him.
Steve interrupted his thoughts as he began talking about some rude customer interaction he had earlier that morning, but Dustin wouldn’t stop thinking of every moment he noticed between you and Steve – and how he worried so much about not having a good role model when he had the best one right in front of him.
Later that evening, you and Robin met up with him and Steve back at Steve’s place. The four of you were sitting around the living room, talking about everything and anything. You and Steve sat next to each other on the smaller couch and Robin and Dustin sat across from each other on the longer one.
Robin was explaining how she embarrassed herself in front of Vickie when Dustin noticed Steve whisper in your ear.
“Want some ice cream?” He asked, and you nodded excitedly at his suggestion. You loved ice cream, so why not offer it?
Steve pressed a quick kiss to your temple before wandering off to the kitchen.
Now was his chance, Dustin thought.
After Steve dropped him off at his study hall, he’d been racking his brain on how to ask Steve about it. His stomach was in knots. Not because he thought Steve would make fun of him, but what if even after his advice, he still failed?
Shoving all his negative thoughts down, Dustin followed Steve into the kitchen. He stood in the doorway, fiddling with the ring on his finger. Steve was moving across the kitchen, grabbing two bowls from the cabinet and then the ice cream from the freezer.
“Hey, Steve?”
Steve looked up from the tub of ice cream, scooper halfway in. “What’s up, man?”
Dustin made his way further into the kitchen, his nerves running rampant.
This is Steve. You can talk to Steve. He gave you your first can of Farrah Fawcet spray for God’s sake.
“Can I ask you something? Like .. something serious,”
Steve stilled then. He stood up straighter and placed the ice cream scooper down on the countertop. “Go for it,”
Dustin hesitated before finally, he asked. “How did you know how to .. be like that. With her?”
Steve’s brows furrowed, head tilting at his friend. “What d’you mean?”
Dustin felt like maybe he should let it go. Pretend like he didn’t even know what he meant and changed the subject but something in Steve’s eye made him feel like he genuinely wanted to understand. So he continued.
“I mean, the way you are,” He begins. “You open her doors, buy her snacks and flowers, and stuff. You even give her your food if she doesn’t like hers,”
Steve blinks.
He knew he did those things but he also didn’t notice every time, much less that Dustin was noticing too. He was also curious as to why he was asking.
Steve was quiet for a moment and he thought about what Dustin was really asking him.
“I didn’t always know,” He confesses.
That makes Dustin perk up. If Steve could learn, so could he. When Steve noticed his reaction, he continued.
“Yeah, I mean, she didn’t exactly come with an instruction manual,” He joked, pulling a small smile from the younger boy. “But I paid attention. It’s polite to open doors for your girlfriend and I like seeing her smile so if buying her flowers or switching my dinner with her does that, then I don’t mind,” He shrugs and starts scooping the ice cream again.
He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and the easiest decision for him to make. He heard what Steve said, it’s all about making her happy but what if he can’t do that? What if he fails once and never gets back up?
“Yeah but how?” He questions again. “What if you mess up or do the wrong thing?”
Steve softens and slowly, begins to piece things together. Dustin had mentioned his growing crush on Suzie and Steve realized it wasn’t just curiosity making him ask these questions, but his own way of getting as much information as possible so he can do it himself.
“Sometimes I do, Henderson,” Steve says gently. “But when I do, I listen to her and I own it. And I make sure I don’t do it again,”
Dustin seems to accept his answer and swallows hard.
“I guess I just.. I don’t wanna mess things up with Suzie, you know?”
In that moment, Dustin looks so small to Steve. He’s no longer the 13 year old kid he met in high school, he’s now the same age Steve was when they met – but in this moment, he looks 13 again and he’s asking his best friend in the world for advice. Steve doesn’t wanna let him down.
“Hey, man, you’re not gonna mess anything up, alright?” He assured Dustin. “You asking proves you’re already doing better than I did when I was your age, and look at me now,” Dustin smiles at that.
“You think so?”
“Yeah, man,” Steve nods and watches Dustin’s shoulders loosen just a bit. “You really like Suzie then, huh?”
Dustin smiles wider. “Yeah, I do.”
“Then all the advice you need is this,” Steve says. “Be kind to her, pay attention. You don’t have to buy her things but let her know you’re always thinking about her. Just be there for her, alright?”
Dustin grinned at his best friend and gone was all his worries, washed away with the advice he gave him. He could do that, he knew he could and he would. He was gonna ask Suzie out tomorrow and he was gonna make sure he was the best damn boyfriend out there.
Steve smiled at the new expression Dustin wore. “Now come on, my girls waiting on her ice cream,”
Dustin nodded, moving to help him carry the bowls back into the living room where you sat. Sure enough, Steve handed you your bowl first and watched you took a bite, making sure it was perfect before he took a bite of his own.
Dustin knew then he could have his own true and pure love because there was proof in front of him. You and Steve, the epitome of unconditional love.
Summary: Joe seems to believe that making his coffee order longer will make his new PA stay, little does he know she'd just rather him be himself.
Joe's an absolutely flirt and the readers tired and needs her own coffee.
A/N: I'M DEAD SERIOUS MOBILE SUCKS I WAS EDITING THIS TO POST TONIGHT.. BUT FINE INTERNET HAVE IT EARLY 🥹
On another note I'm on my hands and knees begging for more Joe idea so send them to me
Word Count: 2,773
Day 1
The call sheet said 6 AM, but dawn was still just a rumor when you arrived - sky the color of bruised plums, streetlamps fighting a losing battle against the dark. You'd been on set since 5:30, clutching a clipboard like a weapon and a list of caffeine orders long enough to wallpaper your apartment twice over.
Forty-eight names. Forty-eight hopes and preferences and tiny windows into who these people were before the cameras rolled. You didn't care about windows. You cared about efficiency. You cared about doing this job so well they couldn't help but hire you back.
"Joe Keery," you read, finger tracing the printed letters. "Black coffee."
Simple. You liked simple. Simple didn't waste your time.
You found his trailer easily - third in the row, door cracked open with music drifting out like smoke from a chimney. Something jangly and guitar-heavy, all jagged edges and earnestness. It sounded like being twenty-two and convinced that everything mattered desperately. You knocked twice, sharp and businesslike.
"Come in."
The word hit you like warm water - unexpected, enveloping. You pushed the door open with your shoulder, balancing the cardboard carrier like the professional you were.
He was running lines, script in hand, hair still damp and curling at the ends like question marks. No hat. You'd never seen him without a hat in public. Seeing him bare-headed felt like accidentally glimpsing a secret - intimate in a stupid, meaningless way.
"Coffee," you said, holding out the cup. "Black. I'm Y/N, the new PA on set. I'll be handling your mornings."
"Handling my mornings." He took the cup, and his fingers brushed yours - deliberate, you thought, or maybe you were imagining things. He smiled with his whole face, the kind of smile that probably worked on most people. "I like the sound of that."
You didn't smile back. You had forty-seven other deliveries, and this wasn't a singles bar. "Let me know if you need anything else. I'm on channel four."
"Actually - " He stopped you with the word, leaning against the doorframe in a way that made his shoulders look unfairly broad. "Do you know if they have oat milk? For tomorrow?"
You blinked. The question seemed designed to extend this interaction, to keep you standing in his doorway like a supplicant. "I can check."
"Cool. Cool cool cool." He was nodding too fast, a tell you filed away automatically. Nervous, despite the performance. Interesting. "Thanks, Y/N. I'll see you tomorrow, then. Bright and early."
"6 AM," you confirmed, already turning. "Don't be late."
You felt his eyes on your back as you walked away, but you didn't turn around. You didn't turn around for anyone.
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
Day 3
"Joe Keery," you announced to the coffee cart. "Oat milk latte. One pump vanilla."
Miguel wrote it down, but his pen moved slowly, judgmentally. "He figure out what he wants yet?"
"He's working on it." You kept your voice neutral, professional. You didn't mention that Joe had found you at lunch yesterday, "just happened to be" in the craft services line, asking if you'd had a chance to check about the oat milk. You didn't mention that he'd remembered your name without prompting, that he'd said it like he was testing how it felt in his mouth.
You delivered to his trailer with mechanical efficiency. Knocked. Waited.
"Y/N." He answered the door in sweatpants, glasses slipping down his nose. No contacts yet. Another secret for the collection you weren't keeping. "You remembered."
"You asked three times." You held out the cup. "One pump vanilla. Not two. Not sugar-free. One."
"Observant." He took the coffee, blew on it unnecessarily, his eyes never leaving your face. "So what's your story? How'd you end up fetching coffee for struggling actors?"
"I'm not fetching." You let the edge sharpen your voice, just slightly. "I'm coordinating. There's a difference."
"Feisty." He grinned, but you caught the flicker - uncertainty, quickly masked. "I like it."
"Do you?" You pulled out your phone, checked the time, made him wait. "Anything else? I have seventeen more trailers."
"Seventeen." He leaned harder against the frame, like he needed it for support. "Anyone special in those seventeen?"
"All of them are special, Mr. Keery. That's why they get coffee." You turned on your heel. "See you tomorrow."
You felt his laugh follow you down the gravel path, surprised and genuine. You didn't let yourself smile until you were around the corner.
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
Day 6
"Joe Keery." You didn't look at Miguel when you said it. "Iced oat milk cold brew, light ice, one pump vanilla, cinnamon on top."
The silence was its own comment.
"He's experimenting," you said, before Miguel could ask.
"He's something."
You didn't defend him. You didn't need to. You just carried the increasingly complicated order to his trailer, your steps measured, your expression carefully blank.
He was waiting at the door. He'd started doing that - being visible, being ready, like he was auditioning for a role he hadn't been cast in yet.
"Y/N." He drew out the syllables, your name becoming a song he was still learning. "You look tired."
"I look like someone who's been up since four."
"Brutal." He took the cup, but his hand lingered on yours, warm and slightly damp. Nervous sweat, probably. You filed it away. "You know what helps with tired?"
"Caffeine. Which I just brought you."
"Conversation." He smiled, the parentheses deep and practiced. "With interesting people. Like, say, the person bringing me caffeine."
You stared at him. Let the silence stretch until his smile started to waver, until you could see him calculating whether he'd misread the room, whether he'd pushed too far, too fast.
"Mr. Keery," you said finally, and watched him flinch at the formality. "I'm not here to be interesting. I'm here to do a job. If you need someone to talk to, might I suggest your co-stars? Or a therapist?"
His laugh burst out, shocked and delighted. "Holy shit. You just - " He ran a hand through his hair, the curl you were definitely not noticing springing back immediately. "Okay. Fair. Message received."
"Good." You turned to leave.
"Wait." He caught your arm, gentle, immediately releasing when you froze. "Sorry. Sorry. I just - " He took a breath, the performance dropping away, something younger underneath. "I'm bad at this. The talking. The normal talking. I keep trying to be charming and I think I'm just being..."
"Exhausting?" you supplied.
"Yeah." He laughed, self-deprecating, real. "That. Exactly that."
You should have walked away. You had sixteen more trailers, and this was unprofessional, and you didn't have time for actors with pretty eyes and no boundaries.
But his hand had been warm. And his laugh, the real one, had settled somewhere in your chest like a stone dropped in still water.
"Try asking about my day," you said. "Instead of performing at me. Tomorrow. If you still want to talk."
"I will." He straightened, hopeful, trying not to show how hopeful. "I definitely will."
You walked back to the cart feeling his eyes on your back, and this time you almost - almost - turned around.
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
Day 9
"Joe Keery." The order had become a poem you'd memorised against your will. "Iced oat milk cold brew, light ice, one pump vanilla, cinnamon powder, extra shot, grande cup filled to venti."
Miguel set down his pen. "You know what? No."
"What?"
"No. Large orders go to the back of the queue." He crossed his arms. "Tell your boy he can wait."
"He's not my - " You stopped. Considered. "Fine. I'll wait."
You waited twenty minutes, standing against the cart with your arms crossed, watching the sky lighten from bruised plum to pale gold. When you finally delivered, Joe was pacing his trailer, script in hand, hair uncombed.
"You're late." He said it like a joke, but you heard the worry underneath.
"Your order's complicated. Miguel's staging a revolution."
"Oh." He took the cup, deflating slightly. "You didn't have to - if it's too much, I can dial it back. I didn't mean to make your job harder."
The admission sat strangely between you. You'd expected performance, expected him to lean into the doorway and say something flirty about being worth the wait. Instead he looked... concerned. Genuine. Young.
"You didn't," you heard yourself say, softer than intended. "Make it harder. It's just coffee."
"It's never just coffee." He met your eyes, and something in his was scared, scared and hopeful in equal measure. "I know I'm being ridiculous. I know the orders are stupid. I just - " He stopped. Started again. "I like when you look at me like I'm a puzzle. Even when you're annoyed. Especially when you're annoyed. You get this line between your eyebrows - " He reached out, stopped just short of touching you. "Sorry. I'm doing it again. Performing."
"You are," you agreed. But you didn't step back. "Ask about my day."
"What?"
"You said you'd try. Ask about my day."
He blinked. The script in his hand crinkled as he tightened his grip. "How was your day?"
"Terrible. I was up at four, Miguel hates me, and one of the actors keeps ordering drinks that require a chemistry degree." You let the corner of your mouth twitch, just slightly. "But the sunrise was nice. Pink. You probably missed it, pacing in here."
"I was pacing?"
"You're always pacing when I arrive. Like you're waiting for something."
He laughed, surprised, the real one that did things to your chest. "I am waiting. For you. Obviously."
"Obviously," you repeated, and this time you let the smile come, small and sharp and yours. "See you tomorrow, Joe."
"Joe," he echoed, like you'd given him something precious. "Not Mr. Keery?"
"Don't get used to it."
You walked back to the cart with your heart beating too fast, and you didn't check your phone once. Miguel took one look at your face and sighed, already reaching for the next order.
"That bad, huh?"
"That complicated," you corrected. But you were still smiling.
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
Day 14
"Regular coffee," you told Miguel. "Two. Black."
He didn't ask. He just made them, sliding them across the counter with the efficiency of someone who'd seen this story before.
Joe was outside his trailer, no script, no glasses, just the gray sweatpants with the hole in the knee and a nervousness he wasn't trying to hide.
"That's not my order," he said when you held out the cup.
"It's mine." You took a sip, let him watch you process the bitterness. "I thought we could walk. While we drink."
"Walk?"
"Unless you're busy. Pacing. Waiting."
He fell into step beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed, close enough that you could smell his soap - cedar and something citrus, clean as a new notebook. The set was waking up around you, crew members calling to each other, equipment rattling to life, but in this pocket of morning it felt like just the two of you.
"You never answered," he said. "When I asked. About anyone special in those seventeen trailers."
"I didn't have anyone special in any trailer." You kicked a pebble, watched it skitter into the grass. "I had a spreadsheet. Forty-eight names. Forty-eight orders. One actor who kept adding ingredients like he was building a ladder to somewhere."
"Was he? Building a ladder?"
You stopped walking. Turned to face him. The sunrise was breaking proper now, painting everything in watercolor washes of pink and gold, and he was standing in the middle of it looking at you like you'd hung the moon and also invented morning.
"He was building something," you said. "I couldn't tell if it was a ladder or a wall."
"Neither could I." He took a step closer, close enough that you could see the flecks of darker brown in his hazel eyes, the slight tremor in his hand around his coffee cup. "I kept thinking, if I could just make the order complicated enough, you'd have to stay. You'd have to figure me out. And if you figured me out, maybe you'd..." He stopped. Swallowed. "This is the part where I act. Where I say something charming about your eyes or your smile and make it sound casual."
"Don't," you said softly.
"Don't?"
"Don't act." You reached out, touched the hand holding his coffee, felt the warmth and the tremor. "Ask what you actually want to ask."
His throat moved. The morning light caught the stubble on his jaw, the curl falling into his eyes, all the details you'd pretended not to catalog. "Do you want to get dinner? After wrap? Somewhere with normal coffee and no spreadsheets?"
"Yes," you said, and watched hope transform his face, watched the parentheses become something permanent. "But Joe?"
"Yeah?"
"If you ever order a seven-modification drink on our date, I'm leaving."
He laughed, loud and relieved, the sound bouncing off the trailers and settling somewhere in your ribcage. "No promises. But I'll let you pick the place. Fair trade?"
"Fair trade," you agreed, and the pun sat between you, terrible and perfect.
He reached for your hand, fingers threading together like they'd always known the way. His palm was warm and slightly damp and real, nothing like the performances, nothing like the practiced charm.
"Can I tell you something?" he asked.
"Only if it's not a line."
"It's not a line." He squeezed your hand, nervous and hopeful and finally, finally genuine. "I think I started falling for you when you called me exhausting. No one's ever called me exhausting before. Usually they just... let me... I don't know be flirty? Pretend I'm something else?"
You thought of your first days, the armour you'd worn, the sharp edges you'd kept polished. You thought of softening, slowly, like butter left out in sun.
"You're still exhausting," you said, and pulled him closer, close enough to feel his heartbeat, to smell the cedar and citrus, to know this was real. "But you're worth the wait."
He kissed you then, coffee cups crushed between you, morning light breaking over everything, and you didn't think about your spreadsheet once.
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
Six Months Later
"Remember when you made me memorise your ridiculous coffee order?" you asked, curled against Joe's side on his couch, the one that smelled like him now, that held the shape of your body in its cushions.
The apartment was dark except for streetlamp glow filtering through blinds, painting everything in stripes of amber and shadow. His hand was in your hair, fingers tracing patterns that didn't mean anything, that meant everything.
"I remember being desperately in love with my PA and having no idea how to tell her." His voice rumbled through his chest, through your cheek, a frequency that had become home.
"You told me through dairy alternatives." You laughed, the sound muffled against his t-shirt. "It was like receiving a love letter in a language I didn't speak. I kept translating it as this man is annoying."
"Was I? Annoying?"
"Exhausting, remember?" You pressed a kiss to his collarbone, felt him shiver. "But I started looking forward to it. The performances. The nervousness underneath. You were like a book with a terrible cover, and I kept reading anyway."
"What's my cover now?"
You pulled back to look at him - no hat, no glasses, no script in hand, no performance. Just Joe, looking at you like you'd hung the moon and also invented coffee, like you'd personally arranged the stars.
"Home," you said, and watched his eyes soften, watched the parentheses deepen into something permanent. "You're home now."
He kissed you then, soft and slow and worth every complicated morning, every invented preference, every moment of wondering. Outside, the city hummed its endless song, but here, in the amber-striped dark, there was only this - the language you'd learned to speak together, fluent at last.
"For the record," he murmured against your lips, "I still think you were terrifying. That first day. All sharp edges and I'm on channel four."
"Good." You smiled into the kiss. "Someone had to be. You were trying so hard I thought you'd pull a muscle."
"I almost did." He pulled you closer, laughing, real and young and yours. "Worth it, though. Every exhausting, terrifying, complicated moment."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." He kissed your forehead, your nose, the corner of your mouth - each one a period at the end of a sentence he'd been too afraid to write, now complete. "Good thing I got the girl who called me out."
"Good thing," you agreed, and let yourself soften completely, let yourself be home.
𝗕𝗘𝗬𝗢𝗡𝗗 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗘𝗔 𝗔𝗨 ⋆𓇼⋆.ೃ࿔:⋆ 𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗩𝗘 𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗧𝗢𝗡
Steve finds a girl in his pool. A very wet, very bloody, and very scaly girl. mermaid!reader
all in one place — newest first
the first fic
you attempt to figure each other out
Steve tells Robin about the mermaid
you are nearly discovered
you spend a few hours in bed
Steve takes you back to the pool
you meet Dustin and Eddie
Eddie teaches you how to swear
Steve gets hurt by the pool
you ask for company
you have a hand to heart
Steve gets you some bikinis
you, Steve, and unending eye contact
you don’t understand and get upset
you give Steve an important gift
everyone tries to cheer you up
an animal outside scares you
you make a big change
Steve takes you to the mall for clothes
Steve explains ‘want’
Robin discovers your new features
you take your first bath
Steve feels you ‘purring’
you get the wrong idea about Nancy
you go klepto, to Steve’s distress
you take a bite out of Steve’s arm
you need Steve to explain real kissing
Steve gives you your kiss
there’s an intruder in the house
you hurt yourself making a bagel
Steve realises what’s missing
you wake up in an unfamiliar room
Steve’s guilty conscience creates distance
you and Hopper have a talk
you get a kiss for your headache
Steve takes you to lovers lake
Pairings: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader
Summary: Steve and Reader drop Dustin off at the Snow Ball and reminisce about their school dance experiences.
Word count: 1.9k
No use of Y/N, female reader
A/N This is my first ever fic, so I'm sorry if anything seems too off ':D Also, English is not my first language
You were seated in the back seat of Steve’s beamer, as he slowed to a stop in front of the Hawkins middle school gym. The car was pretty quiet the whole ride. "Love Is a Battlefield" was softly playing on the radio. No one dared to speak at first. You could feel Dustin's nervousness filling the space.
“All right, buddy, here we are.” Steve sighed as all three of you stared at the building's entrance. The music was loud enough to be heard all the way outside, and the bass rumbled deep inside your bones. “So, remember, once you get in there…” Steve starts. “Pretend like I don’t care.” Dustin finished.
“You don’t care.”
“I don’t care.”
You rolled your eyes at both of the boys. “There you go. You’re learning, my friend.” Steve continued as if you were not there.
You leaned forward, elbows resting atop the front seats. “Dustin, for the love of God, please do not take this advice. It’s not even advice. It is stupid, and it will get you nowhere.”
“Are you doubting me, Henderson?” Steve glanced back at you over his shoulder. “Very much.” You tilted your head and gave him a cocky smile. “Whatever.” he muttered, turning back around.
“Girls want an attentive guy,” You shifted your focus back to your brother. “Someone who listens. Someone who cares.” Dustin now stared at you, taking every word in. You can see the conflict in his eyes as he is unsure who to listen to. Still, he nodded.
“Okay, now you are just confusing the guy.” Steve chimed in, drawing your attention away from your younger brother. You scoffed. “Well, you are the one who gave him bad advice.” “It’s not bad,” Steve shot back. “It worked for me.” Steve defended himself. “Yeah?” You said. “And where are the girls now?” “Okay, ouch..” Steve rolled his eyes.
Dustin tuned out both of your bickering voices as he reached for the rearview mirror to check his hair. Steve noticed immediately, stopping whatever “argument” you two were having.
“Hey.” He grabbed the mirror to readjust it, “Come on. You look great. Okay?” Steve reassured Dustin, who gave him one firm nod.
“Now you’re gonna go in there…”
Dustin turned his head towards him, “Yeah.” Steve hyped him up.
“Look like a million bucks.” Steve went on.
“Yeah.” Dustin repeated a little louder this time.
Steve leans in, his tone softer now, “And you’re gonna slay ‘em dead.”
“Like a lion.” Dustin said proudly before imitating a cat’s purr, a thing he made into a habit since he got his flipper. Steve’s mouth stayed open, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at him in bewilderment for a couple of seconds before speaking, “Yeah,” he dragged out the word, “Don’t do that, okay?
“I think it’s cute,” You cut in from the back seat with a soft smile across your face, “But yeah, Steve’s right. Don’t do that in front of others.” Steve gestures towards you while looking at Dustin as if saying, “See?”
“Okay.” Dustin stared back at you and Steve, his eyes wide. Steve held out his hand. “Good luck.” The younger boy accepted the gesture and connected his hand with Steve’s with a little clap, both nodding at each other.
“You got this, little bro.” You instinctively went for his hair before stopping yourself and patted him on the shoulder instead. “And don’t break too many hearts tonight.”
“No promises, dear sister of mine,” Dustin said and gave you a little smirk over his shoulder. He opened the door, got out, and turned around to lean in through the door to look at you and Steve, “Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone.” He says with a playful tone. “You wish, Dusty.”
“Don’t call me that!” He groaned before closing the door and walking in the direction of the entrance, leaving the two of you alone. For a few moments, both of you watched him before he was completely out of sight. You started climbing over the seats to sit up front, taking Steve completely out of his trance as you plopped down beside him. “Hey! Watch it! You are gonna get dirt everywhere.” He whined. Your gaze switched between him and the leather material, using your hand to brush some of the dirt away. “Sorry.” You apologized.
Steve shifted in this seat, running a hand through his hair, “You know, I kinda envy the guy's confidence.” He chuckled, “God, I had no idea what I was doing.” Your brows furrowed as you looked at him in surprise. “Really? You? Steve “The hair” Harrington? I highly doubt that.”
“I mean, I was thirteen at the time, name a more awkward age than that.”
“Alright, fair.” You raised your hands in defense, a soft laugh escaping past your lips.
“Can’t say mine was any better.” You said as you fidgeted with your fingers, trying to find something else to focus on. “Hey, I didn’t say mine was bad.” He added with a grin, which dropped almost immediately as he saw the look on your face. “What happened?” Steve asked with hesitation.
“Well, we moved to Hawkins the summer before I started 8th grade, so I didn’t have any friends at the time. No one really wanted to talk to the new girl.” You shrugged your shoulders. Suddenly feeling embarrassed saying this to Steve Harrington of all people.
“You didn’t go with anyone?” He paused for a moment. “I thought you were friends with Nancy.” He genuinely seemed interested. “Yeah, we are, but we haven't started talking until our freshman year.”
“So what did you do?” Steve furrowed his brow. “Just sat there. In hindsight, I should have probably stayed at home. Save myself the embarrassment.” You chuckle.
You both stayed quiet for a beat. Neither of you dared to speak. You, out of embarrassment, and Steve, who truly didn’t know how to respond. The only sound was the quiet radio, the purr of the car’s engine, and whatever song was playing from the gym. A song you actually recognized very well, as it was one of your favorites, Every Breath You Take by The Police.
Suddenly, as on command, Steve turned the car off, cutting off both the engine and the radio. You turned your head to look at him as you watched him open the door and get out. Your eyes follow his figure, walking around the hood of the car and stopping right beside the passenger door before opening it. “What are you doing?” You inquire, feeling the cold December air hit you.
He just held out his hand, “Would you like to dance?” He asks with that charming smile of his.
“What?” You let out a surprised laugh.
“Come on, Henderson. Dance with me.” Steve kept his hand outstretched, waiting for you to take it.
“Here?” He didn’t respond, just nodded and smiled.
It’s not like you didn’t want to dance. You loved dancing, you just didn’t expect Steve to ask you. Especially not here nor now. But you placed your hand in his as a smile spread across your lips. “Alright, Harrington, you win.”
He gently pulled you out of the car, beaming, and led you to a safer place out of the way of other cars. He guided your free hand to his shoulder, placing his own on your back. His left hand still held onto yours as you softly swung to the muffled music. Your cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, which you hoped you could blame on the freezing weather. You had to admit you started catching feelings for this boy, ever since he helped Dustin with the whole Dart situation. And the last time you were this close to Steve, he was trying to protect you from a horde of demodogs charging your way. Your back pressed tightly against his chest to shield you from any harm. Not like it would do any good if a dozen, nearly indestructible monsters jumped you, but it’s the thought that counts– right?
He started hanging around Dustin more after that. They were slowly but surely becoming brothers, neither of them had. It has only been a month since Eleven closed the gate, but you could see how much he has changed in just a short amount of time. Or maybe he has finally started feeling safe enough to be more himself.
“You know, I never actually thanked you.” Your voice was low, but still loud enough for him to hear. “For what?” The confusion in his voice was clear.
“For being there for my brother when I couldn’t. I would have blamed myself for the rest of my life if something happened to him.” A pang of guilt flashed through you as you thought back to that day when your brother needed your help, and you were nowhere to be found. You came home late that night and found the two boys coming out of your storm cellar, confused about why Steve Harrington was at your house, with your brother and a baseball bat gripped tightly in his hand. They both looked extremely alarmed, but Dustin relaxed upon seeing you. Clearly, something was wrong.
“Oh, yeah, of course.” Steve brushed it off, acting like it was nothing. His hand squeezed your waist, letting you know it meant more to him than he says. “No, I mean it.” You pushed on, “If it weren’t for you,” He called your name, “he’d do it all by himself and–” You started to ramble on, but Steve stopped you before it could get any worse. “Hey, hey,” He breathed out softly. “Let’s not think about what-ifs and let’s just be glad everyone is alive, yeah?”
“Yeah.” The word, more as a whisper, slipped past your lips. Your gaze locked with his.
The two of you got quiet once again, but not an awkward kind of silence. This one was welcoming, just feeling comfortable in each other’s presence. You felt warm despite the biting cold. Steve lifted your joined hands above your head, leading you into a spin. A giggle escaped deep within your chest as he pulled you back to him. Way closer than before. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, warming yours.
You thought you almost dreamt it, but you caught it. You caught him looking down at your lips before his eyes found yours again. Your heart pounded against your ribs. Were you reading too much into this? You were just dancing, right? You watched Steve closely, searching his face, trying to figure out what was going through his head. His grip on you tightened. Then he asked.
“Can I kiss you?” His voice was almost inaudible. Your breath caught in your throat, frozen for a moment before softly nodding, giving him permission. Steve leaned down. Your lips brushed against his for a moment, giving you a chance to back out. You didn’t. He connected your lips in a tender, cautious kiss. The dance long abandoned, the song changed a while ago, but neither of you cared. All you cared about was each other. Steve’s hand let go of yours as he cupped your cheeks, pulling you even closer.
When you broke apart to catch your breath, you stared at each other for a moment, both smiling like idiots in love… which you were.
“Dustin is so gonna kill us when he finds out.” Steve let out a nervous chuckle.
“Yeah,” You breathed out, the smile ever present on your lips, “Worth it though.”
Hello! This is all things Ellie Williams, the authors are credited definitely go show them some love if you haven't already because these stories are so beautiful!
✪ Collide Series - @valeisaslut
⍟ |MDNI 18+ Content| A pop princess on the rise, A rockstar on the edge of collapse. Your world is pollished and perfection, hers is choas and slef destruction. You and ellie Williams were never meant to cross paths. But when the industry sees an opportunity, it spins a story neither of you can escape; a headline-making, career-saving fake relationship. |161,1k words||Celebrity AU Popstar!R x Rockstar!E|
✪ Welcome to the Party - @lovelettersfromluna
⍟ |MDNI 18+ Content| what’s worse than your older brother? … his extremely attractive best friend |Champagne Coast||Under Your Spell||Love Me Not|
✪ Playgirl Problems - @nhmkhnh
⍟ Ellie Williams has a bad habit of flirting like it’s a sport—and unfortunately for you, she just found her favorite opponent. |Playgirl!ellie|
✪ "Dude, chill out." - @pastel-peach-writes
⍟ |Sibling!reader| Ellie this, Ellie that. Believe it or not, being Ellie's younger sibling is complete ass. Everyone raves about how strong she is and how she's able to keep her own. Well, what about you? You're barely two years younger and you can keep your own just as well as she can. Besides, she needed your help this time.
✪ Some Protector - @marscardigan
⍟ being mute wasn't easy, especially in a cruel world like this one. but meeting Ellie made it easier. it made everything easier. |9.7k words|
✪ We're in love - @ikn0wtheend
⍟ different moments in your relationship with ellie where you find love in the kitchen. |2.4k words|
✪ Heartbeats & half-court shots - @/nhmkhnh
⍟ when a jock can’t help but fall for the quiet genius across the campus, every game turns into a play for love.
✪ Cupid carries a gun. - @grotesquevi
⍟ |MDNI 18+ Content| Modern AU
✪ Making your ex jealous - @tthoroughfare
⍟ the gang’s all back together for Christmas! no matter how hectic life gets, you always make time for your end of year outing |2.1k words||Happiest season||Garden Daisy 2||MDNI 18+|->|Garden Daisy 3|
✪ Where it's safe - @sadiesdoll
⍟ patching up Ellie. |1.7k words|
✪ eye contact with ellie - @inwithrin
⍟ Ellie is the type of girlfriend who secretly, absolutely loves the fact that you can’t keep eye contact with her.
✪ Domestic Lover!Ellie - @carelesslycrafted
⍟|MDNI 18+| fluff and smut
✪ Written I love you's - @onlyheluvsme
⍟ |MDNI 18+| how Ellie says I love you for the first time
✪ One tent, two idiots - @dykebehaviour
⍟ |MDNI 18+ Content| a college camping trip with your best friends seemed like the perfect getaway. but sleeping in the woods, dealing with Jesse’s terrible horror stories, and sharing a tent with Ellie Williams, your best friend who you’ve definitely had a crush on for months, is a lot harder than expected.
✪ Woman Inherits the Earth - @junojoel
⍟ You came to Jurassic World for industry connections, a killer CV, and maybe a LinkedIn flex. You didn’t expect to fall for the raptor girl. |6.6k words|
✪ with great power comes great lesbianism - @cinnasite
⍟ |MDNI 18+ Content| your campus crush is awkward, brilliant, and possibly allergic to eye contact. your city’s superhero is bold, brawny, and keeps saving your life. it takes a few close calls and some questionable physics to realize they’re the same girl—and she’s falling for you, too. |5.5k words|
✪ Love me anyways - @/marscardigan
⍟ what was supposed to be a fun afternoon with your niece ended up being a complete mess of a weekend with your girlfriend and the four-year-old. |5.2k words||neighbor!ellie universe|
✪ Stream Sniped - @welostheplot
⍟ |MDNI 18+ Content| a one-shot about streamer!Ellie falling for a random influencer who wants nothing to do with her (except she actually does). |5.6k words|
✪ Until the sun no longer shines - @freyascoffee
⍟ |Jackson!Ellie x reader|
✪ Put some love on me - @stylesparker
⍟ |Bestfriend!Ellie||2.1k words|
✪ The Hard Way - @totheblood
⍟ |MDNI 18+ Content| you and Ellie broke things off years ago, everyone knew this. what they didn't know was why. when a mysterious anonymous account pops up, seeming to know what happened, you and Ellie are forced into talking again to find out who it is. problem is she's a rockstar and on tour, you may just have to figure it out over text. |Series|
✪ One Simple Favour (SMAU) - @satellitespinner
⍟ Your new place is a bit of a fixer upper to say the least... a series of unfortunate events have so far led you to a broken window, some rickety floorboards, and worst of all, a mutual friend who you can't take your eyes off of. the rising temperatures of the summer make it damn near impossible to keep yourself cold and dry. |Series|
If any of the writers want me to take down their stories, please let me know and I gladly will! Otherwise, I hope these stories were as fun to read for you as they were for me! Leaf Divider: @strangergraphics
SYNOPSIS: your new place is a bit of a “fixer-upper” to say the least.. a series of unfortunate events have so far lead you to a broken window, some rickety floor boards, and worst of all, a mutual friend who you cant take your eyes off of. the rising temperatures of the summer make it damn near impossible to keep yourself cold, and dry.
A\N: hi lovelies! im so excited to be putting out work again, and i really hope you feel the same :)) please be patient as i am just getting back into the groove of this place. and as always, comments, critiques, and reblogs are GRANDLY appreciated <3 izzie.
graphic designed by me & banners in used are here!
CHAPTER INDEX & OTHERS
A VERY FLIMSY HOUSE
1-800 BUTCH!
GET IN HER PHONE
PLACE YOUR BETS
WEEK ONE
WEEK TWO
WEEK THREE
TOMORROWS PROBLEM
A RUDE AWAKENING
BABY STEPS
DONT DRINK N’ DRIVE.
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SUMMARY: you and ellie broke things off years ago, everyone knew this. what they didn't know was why. when a mysterious anonymous account pops up, seeming to know what happened, you and ellie are forced into talking again to find out who it is. problem is she's a rockstar and on tour, you may just have to figure it out over text.
WARNINGS: cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x, there will/may be se*ts so thats a warning.. dark themes in later chapters (will be trigger warned)
WARNINGS: bestfriend!ellie, self deprecating thoughts (but not really), touch starved reader who needs to get her shit together, some actual fluff for once
*not my gif
You wish you weren’t such a fucking coward.
All you want to do is just ask somebody for a hug. Just a hug. That’s it. You don’t have a clue why it’s so fucking hard.
Dina’s the only one who’s gotten you to talk about it. You were really feeling it one day—that craving feeling in your chest that makes you want to run up to somebody and take all the touch from them you can get. You were so embarrassed she even noticed. You still don’t know how, but Dina always says she has her ways.
Nothing she said really fixed much. Just that a lack of touch leads to a craving of more—something like that. She gave you a hug after that talk but it felt so awkward, like she had only done it because she knew you needed it, not that she had wanted to do it herself. You left pretty quickly after that.
But now, standing outside Ellie’s door, you’re getting that feeling again. It always creeps up at the worst moments when you’re not expecting it; usually you just go home and suffer in your bed, alone. It passes eventually, but it sucks. It’s like torture, knowing you want it, need it, but you don’t have the guts to go out and ask for it. Because you know anyone of your friends would gladly be of service, but it just makes you feel like a burden.
Which is why you want to run and hide when Ellie opens up the door. Because for some reason, her face just brings back that hunger you have for it. The look she always has that’s so soft and welcoming (something you haven’t noticed that’s just for you), and the way her arms tightly hold the person she’s hugging close to her chest always makes your head go a bit fuzzy.
Her mouth curves up into a soft grin, “Hey, babe, c’mon in.”
Not the babe. God no NOT the time.
You swear you’re gonna lose it before you even walk in the door. You hate when she calls you babe; or any term of endearment for that matter. Only because you love it, and you hate that you love it. It’s not helping the situation at hand by any means.
You try and hide your grimace when her hand falls to your lower back when she leads you inside. Despite the amount of times you’ve been in her room, you still look around each time as if it’s only the first. You notice she’s added an extra poster on the wall since you’ve been here last, and her eyes follow you around the room as you take it in.
She smiles when you start thumbing through her comics, humming to yourself when you see something you like. She walks back over to her bed where she was practicing a tune on her guitar before you got there.
“What were you playing,” you ask softly, “ya’ know, before I interrupted.”
Ellie rolls her eyes playfully, “Shut up, I literally asked you to come over here.”
She hears you whisper a quiet whatever as you go across the room and sit on her couch. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion when you sit down and curl into yourself. Usually when she gets you to come around you’re right by her side, she doesn’t know why that’s not the case today.
“What are you doing?”
“Hm?” Your head pops up, looking at her with a soft look on your face. You seem so… out of it.
“C’mere.” She waves you over, but you don’t budge.
You shrug and try to play it off, “I’m quite comfortable here, thank you.”
You realize she’s not having it one bit as she gets up and practically marches over to you, leaning her body down to pick you up swiftly into her arms.
“Oh my god- Ellie!” You find yourself giggling into her shoulder as you smack her, but it has no real evil intent behind it. And she knows that too.
“What! You weren’t gonna come over yourself, so I did it for you!”
She throws you onto her bed, and you instantly feel the lack of warmth her hands brought when they were gripping you. It was like someone handed you a cookie, and just as you were about to eat it, they tore it away. It was so quick, you wished you’d reveled in it a bit more before she let go of you.
You scooted up to the top of her bed to lean against her headboard as she sat at the end and picked up her guitar again. Your eyes dance across her skin as you observe the small freckles and the way her hands flex when she handles the guitar. You try to wane off the feeling; forget what it felt like to be skin to skin, forget the relief that was served to you when her fingers dug into your flesh.
You didn’t notice the catch in your breath as you started thinking about it, or the way your hands started to fiddle with themselves in your lap, but she did. Ellie observed you just as you did to her, and she wished she’d seen it when you walked in.
The softness. The desperation.
You obviously need something, but she doesn’t know what.
Your nails are digging into the palms of your hands when you feel that familiar warmth return to your skin. You meet her eyes and she’s gently touching your leg.
She’s touching you. You instantly feel horrible when you move your leg away. You want to take it back immediately when her eyes fill with hurt.
“What’s up with you, huh?” Ellie’s voice fills the air and it makes you perk up.
“What?” You reply distantly. She sighs. She sets down her guitar and shuffles closer to you.
“I said, what’s up with you? Why you being weird?”
You laugh awkwardly, “Me? Being weird? I’m not being weird, how am I being weird?” Your question makes her laugh.
“I don’t know, you just…” she shrugs, “you’re not being you.”
You nod, pulling your legs up to hug them, “Okay, how am I usually.”
“Well for one, you don’t usually run away from me,” she laughs, but you can hear the discomfort in her voice.
You can’t help but frown. Her hurt makes you feel so stupid. Why couldn’t you have just acted normal, and she wouldn’t be questioning you right now. Why couldn’t you-
“Y/N.”
She’s closer. Her hands on your hands. You didn’t realize you covered your face until she peeled them away from your eyes. You try not to let out a squeak when you say huh in question.
“Please tell me what’s going on with you, how can I help?” Her head tilts and it makes your heart flutter in your chest. How do you tell your best friend that it would probably save your life if she held you so tight and never let go? How do you tell her that’s all you will ever need, but it’s something you’ve never let yourself have?
She gets it as soon as your eyes drop down to her hand. The way you suddenly look so desperate but ready to tear away from her at the same time. You can’t find it in yourself to ask, it’s too embarrassing. But it’s really not, you know that, but it feels like it. Once she gives you that look, that I get it now look, you know you’re done for.
“Honey, look at me.” Her finger nudges your chin up so you look at her, but it just makes you all the more shy. She grins, “Would you like a hug?”
You groan, letting your head fall back against the headboard. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not making fun of you!” Her smile says otherwise.
“Yes you are! And no, I don’t.” Your refusal has her raising her eyebrows at you. She knows your stubborn, but she didn’t think it would be this hard to get a confession out of you.
“Oh really?” She tsks, “I think you’re lying to me.”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“I don’t give a shit-”
Ellie almost scares you when she darts forward and pulls you into her, pulling you into the hug she asked for anyway. A “wha-” is halfway out your mouth when her hands fold across your back and your head gets shoved into the juncture of her neck and shoulder. She squeezes a little tighter, puffing soft breaths into your own shoulder, trying to get you to calm down.
“Can you relax for me? Jeez.” Your eyes are shut tight and you’re not even holding her back. She pulls you back and your eyes are closed, which makes her grunt in annoyance. “Open your eyes, love.” You’re breathing is sort of heavy, but you’re doing everything you can to relax. It’s so nice. The pressure of the hug, the weight of her body, it’s everything you need. But there’s that voice in the back of your head saying you don’t deserve it.
Your voice is shaky when you say, “I’m sorry.” You shake your head, and you don’t know what you’re doing when you try to pull away but you want to lean against her.
“Hey, don’t go anywhere,” her hand comes up to the back of your head and holds you there, “why are you sorry?” You shake your head. “Why are you sorry?” She demands again.
You open your eyes and she notices they’re sort of teary. “I’m sorry for making you feel bad.”
Ellie sighs at that, “Baby, I’m okay. You didn’t.”
“I did though.”
She pulls your head up and places her hands on both sides of your face. Her touch is so overwhelming. You take another shaky breath and her forehead falls against yours.
“It’s okay, baby.” Her thumbs stroke your cheeks and suddenly, all you need is more.
Just more of everything she’s giving you. She doesn’t seem burdened and she doesn’t seem upset, so you let yourself lean into her embrace. You whine when she pulls away, but she places a kiss to your brow and it makes you absolutely melt.
She holds you so close, one hand scratches the back of your neck while the other travels down the side of your body to hold you in place on her lap. She tugs you a bit closer which makes you fall even more into her. A noise of content escapes you when her fingers scratch the top of your head, and it makes her chuckle to herself.
“You are so worked up, is this all you needed?” She questions.
You groan, burrowing your head further into her neck, breathing in and out deeply so you don’t ruin this moment. She lets you sink into her, let’s you wrap your arms around her waist, all the while you’re slowly letting her patch up the broken pieces of your heart, one by one.
“Yeah.” You mumble quietly.
You slump, almost like you’re going to sleep, and she revels in it. Loves the fact that she is the one doing this for you, she is the one that can take the ache away. It makes her sad knowing it probably took you so long to say something because you thought you didn’t deserve it, and she knows, because this used to be her.
“Atta’ girl.” She kisses the side of your head.
Finally, you’re relaxing. She maneuvers the both of you so she’s sitting back against the headboard and your head is against her chest. Her hands rub up and down your back, and she doesn’t tease when you move every now and then, since you’re still getting used to the constant touching.
The ache starts to go away, but there’s that lingering sense of want that doesn’t leave you. Your hands grip the sides of her shirt, grabbing her attention away from her comic book.
“You good, baby?”
“Don’t call me baby.” You blush.
Now this she’ll tease you about.
She smirks, “why not, sweetheart? You don’t like it?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Aww, you know you like it.” Your head pulls up to look at her, and all she can think is you have the cutest glare out of anybody she knows.
“What did I say.”
“Shut the fuck up and accept my love you bastard.”
Your face flushes red, and you know it. You go back down without a retort and she knows she’s got you where she wants.
Author's note: this is the exact same as my Mijin fic but with Jackson Ellie Williams!!
Lazily, you leaned your arms against the cool, metal railing of the patrol wall, allowing your eyes to search into the distance of Jackson. You often went up here because of patrol, but it was truly a beautiful spot. There was a lot on your mind, particularly the fact that clickers have been coming in hordes recently, and you weren't the most confident at using your firearm with perfection.
The skyline of Jackson was to die for. Between the silhouettes of the semi-mountains, and golden streetlamps illuminating the path below, the view looked beautiful. It was definitely a distraction.
In addition to all of this, you had come to an awful realisation, you had caught feelings for your best friend, Ellie. She was laid-back, sarcastic, and funny, the exact characteristics that made you fall for her in the first place. She often spoke about how hot random girls in town were, but to you, it was just white noise when the topic returned.
"Dude, eyes on me! We're about to make history!" Ellie exclaimed, punching your shoulder gently. The cool breeze gently brushed the girl's auburn locks to the side, her plaid flannel waving past her back.
"This is all on you if anyone asks, got it?" Your eyebrows furrowed, glancing at the girl's fist, which was grabbing onto a bottle. Your grin widened in the slightest when you looked at the litre of water beside her. "..gosh, what am I gonna do with you?"
"You're gonna help me out. Hold the bottle so it doesn't fall." She laughed. The gentle breeze of the summer evening perfectly stroked Ellie's scruffy bangs away from her face, revealing her bright smile. "Hold it tight"
"Oh my gosh- I'm scared - no- Els- oh my gosh" you giggled, wrapping your trembling palms around the drink, which shook from adrenaline as you poured the water into the water gun. You looked down the wall to the narrow pavement below. "We're gonna get in so much trouble"
"Well prepare for trouble, make it double, stupid" she smirked, securing the hatch and grabbing your hands to aim the water gun at the man on the street. "take that you dick!" Jackson was a small town after all, if you were wronged, there was no way you wouldn't run into that person again...which is exactly why you aren't fully proud with the fact you and Ellie are attacking some random guy.
The two of you quickly ducked under the short wall. "First and last time I'm doing that" you muttered, scolding the girl. It was clear that your stunt caused a commotion below. Your eyes quickly met hers, a strange yet subtle look in her gaze nonetheless, you looked back down
"We barely used any water. What did we even buy it for, then?" The auburn argued, aiming the water gun at your chest. Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed, followed by a priceless grin.
"I don't know, maybe drink it then, smartass," you said as you aimed your water gun at her leg, which was exposed due to the shorts she was wearing.
She kissed her teeth and shot you a glare. Maybe it was a distraction because, before you knew, she had shot you with her watergun, leaving a wet stain on your tank top. "Have that"
"Oh, so it's a friend-or-foe thing now?" You smirked, raising an eyebrow whilst backing away from her and pulling the small plastic trigger which was bound to snap off - it was from some random stall after all.
"That a reference to the Romeo and Juliet film adaptation?" Ellie barked back, beginning to shoot you with her water gun between laughs. "Do you bite your thumb at me?" She imitated a posh English accent as she pointed her finger at you.
"Niche references don't make you look smart you moron" you yell from across the parking lot. Your water gun was holding on for dear life with the amount of force you were pushing into that pump.
"Oh shut up, you love it, sir" she joked, continuing with her Montague family act. "Go on, pull the trigger, I triple-dog-dare you"
"Well I'm more of a Julius Caesar girl if we're talking Shakespeare. You won't see me stabbing your back... or shooting you with a watergun. Expect the unexpected" you sneered sarcastically.
"Oh please, you're too predictable to be a conspirator," she scoffed. Famous last words by Ellie Williams before she got shot by the watergun. "Oh come on!" she hissed.
"Didn't see coming that, did you?" You chuckled.
It was all shit and giggles until you lost your balance whilst running over a bump. The sudden thud to the warm summer rocky wall forced awkward chuckles out of the both of you before they transitioned into hysterical and genuine laughs.
"We should take a break" she smirked, holding a hand out to help you up. The extended hand was too kind...too suspicious for Ellie Williams.
You raised a brow. Your eyes flickered across her hand - then up her tattooed arm - your gaze trailed to her face. That orange sunset tinted her dark eyes with the faintest hints of green and gold. Those eyes made it feel like time slowed down, even if it was momentarily. Ellie's unwavering gaze, which held yours, felt like an unspoken tension that only seemed to grow over these past few weeks.
You cleared your throat and stood up, dismissing her kind gesture. "we should head back" you admitted. "It's getting cold...you know... top of the wall and stuff".
"Are you serious? When's the last time you just... let go a bit?" Ellie huffed, resting the watergun over her shoulder. A small sign of irritation behind her eyes.
"What?" You asked. Between how attractive she looked right now with that stupid neon gun over her shoulder and that pissed look, your focus slipped between her words.
"You know, when was the last time you relaxed? We can sit around, smoke" she offered with a convincing smile. Of course she wanted to smoke, it was her thing now, which you obviously weren't a huge fan of.
"You kidding me?" You scoffed with a bitchy look plastered across your face. "No way in hell I'm inhaling that shit"
"Oh don't be such a goodie-two-shoes, just for now, rebel against your rigid rules. Fuck that was a tongue twister, rigid rules, whatever, my point still stands." Ellie gestured a blunt towards you. "They're not my regular cigs, just got these for today, Eugene's place, thought we could celebrate our victory"
"Have you had these before? Are they safe?- you know- as safe as this thing ca-" You asked as you took the blunt from her hand and examined it from side to side.
"They're fine, just make you feel lightheaded for the first couple minutes, but then it settles in, and the fun starts" the auburn mumbled between the blunt she was lighting.
"You sound like Tommy" you squinted your eyes suspiciously.
"Well I did cross the country with his brother" she shrugged smugly, taking a slow drag from the blunt. "I'd totally pull off the badass running the town, though"
"Nah you don't have it in you" you rolled your eyes. Leaning your back against the railing, you huffed.
"Hey dude fuck you" Ellie laughed loudly, shoving your shoulder playfully. She rested her arms on the short wall and observed the city view. Her head shifted to her bicep, pale green eyes boring into you. "Come onnn try it you dork" she held out the blunt once more.
"Fine, oh my gosh" you agreed, holding your hand out. The girl immediately adjusted her hunched position, waiting. "I don't even know how to do this"
"Just like- take a deep breath and exhale" she ordered. "Try not to choke, don't wanna deal with that"
Inhaling slowly, you felt smoke filling your lungs. You couldn't breathe. Coughing dramatically, whilst Ellie patted your back, had to be a clever tactic, you presumed. Her acting like she cared was a rare sighting. You weren't exactly sure why this felt so intimate. "You got the difficult part out of the way, try again," she encouraged.
The sun began to set, and you two were still sitting on the cold concrete, laughing your asses off. You weren't sure if something had triggered you or sobered you up, but this felt like the time, the time you had to confess.
“Okay, uh—so, get this.” you scratched the back of your neck, avoiding eyecontact. "I've just like got something to say, it's totally fine if you wanna push my ass of the building after this but-"
"Y/n."
"Basically, I like you," you blurted, wincing at the words that exposed you "I mean- of course- you're my best friend and I get that you like these other girls-"
"Y/n dude-" she breathed out.
Your pursed your lips into an awkwardly thin line, holding your gaze. Your face relaxed slightly as you felt a cold hand reaching for your shoulder, the familiar traces of cool fingers lightly stinging your skin. Her calloused hands brushed up to the back of your neck, she pulled you in and pressed her lips against yours.
You barely processed the situation, head slightly spinning from the previous blunt and kiss, scanning her expression, which remained neutral. "Does that clear things up for you?"
You let out a soft chuckle, awkward yet flustered. Ellie just smiled fondly, biting her inner cheek slightly. Your gaze flickered between her iris and lips, a cycle you had grown used to now. "Why would you do that?" You stuttered, eyes wide and desperate for an answer.
"Well first of all, you wouldn't shut the fuck up" she scoffed with a shit eating grin "and I may or may not be interested so yeah" her smile dropped within the last syllables.
"Roger that," you bit back a smile. You stood up, looking back at the view which had faded into orange and pink from the sunset as well as silver silhouettes of buildings which reflected the still-standing sun. "My place?"
a one-shot about streamer!ellie falling for a random influencer who wants nothing to do with her (except she actually does).
content: streamer!ellie x influencer!reader, modern au, strangers to lovers, ellie's down bad, so is reader you’re just better at hiding it, twitch chat/discord sever/titkok comment antics (that were a bitch to write ngl), MDNI 18+, fingering (r!receiving), oral sex (e!receiving), there's like a splash of meta during the smut that made me giggle when deciding to include it, reader described as having a clit
word count: 5.6k
author's note: so this is where i reveal myself as having quite a bit of knowledge about streaming/gaming/chronic online-ness in general. also, does this count as loser!ellie? am i part of the gang?! anyways, i hope you enjoy!
twitch.tv/smellie — LIVE: we're soooooo back 😤 !discord !drops
“alright, alright,” ellie muttered, dragging a hand down her face as she leaned toward her second monitor. “let’s do today’s discord submissions. i’ve been skipping out on them because you guys have been fucking weird lately, so... don’t make me regret this.”
her camera’s a little off-center—she obviously just rolled out of bed, the unmade sheets still visibly rumpled in the background, and her hair's clearly unbrushed beyond probably a haphazard comb through with her fingers.
ghostpeekr: !!!!!!!!
tryqt: BE NICE ELLIE
elliesdischarge: i just sent a pic of my cat meow for her rn
whiffytiffany: is she playing with chat members for fortnite tonight????
elliethrows4me: dude make your bed.
ellie sighed, already regretting everything. “i never make my bed, you guys know this by now” she grumbled, clicking into her discord anyway. the #stream-submissions channel lit up immediately. “alright. what are we working with today…”
she scrolled through hundreds of chats, stopping at the ones with the most reactions. first up was a photo of someone’s dog.
she squinted. “this is your… dog?” it’s a tiny, wet-looking chihuahua wrapped in a blanket like a human baby.
“that’s—okay, listen, i’m sure she’s very sweet. but she looks like kind of like a maggot? why the fuck are her eyes doing that.”
lootsluttt: LMFAOOOO
v4nitymirror: SHE’S MY BABY
ellieclips: you’re the maggot-looking one actually.
princessp3ach: UR GOING TO HELL
she kept scrolling.
“okay, next up—dinner pic. we’ve got noodles, veggies… chicken? that’s chicken, right?” she tilted her head. “yeah, okay. this looks gas. eight out of ten. presentation is questionable, but i’d eat it.”
nerfventure: W DINNER
flick_n_trick: it’s pad thai dumbass
ecam96: NOT U CALLING IT UGLY
NotElliesAlt: u’d eat anything tho
ellie glanced at chat and snorted. “okay, but i’m a growing girl, i’ve got a big appetite!”
elliesdischarge: i got something you can eat message deleted by a moderator.
dusty_diamond: RATE MY SETUP PLSSSS I JUST POSTED IT
sandydunez: okay so where’s the growing part tho?
next post. it was a tiktok.
she paused. “okay, wait. is this gonna get me banned like the last time?”
the video started playing anyway. one of those dramatic thirst edits. saweetie’s my type blasted in the background, and a slideshow began: a list titled in giant capital letters:
“THE HOTTEST WOMEN ON THE PLANET — RANKED.”
ellie raised a brow. “mmmkay. hot women, my specialty. let’s see who made the cut.”
#5 was some instagram model. she nodded approvingly. “valid…”
#4 was a streamer she knew—kind of annoying in real life. she wrinkled her nose. “mid. there’s better streamers out there, you know. ones that might be on your screen. like…right now. i dunno, just saying.”
#3 was that girl from a CW show that everyone insisted was underrated.
#2 was a picture of asami from nickolodeon’s the legend of korra.
she looked at the camera. “okay, but, like…deadass, why am i not on here? this one’s not even a real person?”
leilaniiii: GIRL BE FR
nonbinarybullets: 💀💀💀
elliesyumyum: ur like top 17 at best
tima0911: not everything is about you smelly.
she flipped off the camera, a grin tugging at her mouth. “you guys have no taste.”
and then—#1.
the music swelled. the tiktok cut to a clip of you.
it was casual, not even a thirst trap—just you in a tank top and sweats, talking to your chat, laughing at something off screen. it was one of those clips where someone was effortlessly attractive without trying, and ellie immediately leaned closer to her screen.
she blinked. “who even is that?”
whiffytiffany: NO WAY
mikuirl: THAT’S MOTHER
maybemaddie: HER @ IS pastaluvrrr
NotElliesAlt: ELLIE BE SERIOUS
ellie’s brows pulled together, genuinely confused. “i’ve literally never seen her in my life. also her user is literally pasta lover. i’m supposed to be impressed?”
usuallylurkin: L + RATIO + SHE'S HOTTER THAN U
ellieclips: ur username is smellie btw
paine_45: she's like famous famous
slaystation_: SHE’S SO GFFFF
she waved a dismissive hand and clicked off the video.
“never heard of her,” she muttered, already loading up fortnite. “anyways. queueing up squads. if you stream snipe and don’t let me win, you’re getting banned.”
it took approximately four hours.
four hours between ellie squinting at your face on stream and someone from her chat catching her lurking in your comment section.
the tiktok in question wasn’t even that serious. you’d filmed yourself in your bathroom mirror, hair half up, wearing one of those off-the-shoulder baggy t-shirts, mouthing along to some audio.
and right there, in the comments section, was ellie’s account:
@ smellie: “wait she’s kinda bad tho”
of course, one of her viewers immediately took a screenshot before ellie even had the chance to delete it. not that she would’ve. but still.
by midnight, the screenshot had already gone viral.
a photo post popped up on for you pages everywhere, featuring a zoomed-in screenshot of the comment with saweetie playing again in the background (naturally). the caption read:
“i think ellie figured out who she was.”
it had 70k likes within the hour.
and, of course—you reposted it.
the comments on the post immediately flooded with:
“OMG SHE REPOSTED”
“not ellie switching up so fast”
“ellie back up SHE’S MINE”
meanwhile, ellie’s discord exploded.
#general was moving so fast, the mods were genuinely worried:
smelly mod #7: sooooo @ smellie we saw the tiktok 😭
within minutes, ellie herself was typing.
smellie #1 streamer and pro fortnite player: GUYS chill out omg
smellie #1 streamer and pro fortnite player: you’re literally blowing my street cred
smellie #1 streamer and pro fortnite player: also there was NOTHING wrong with what i said. she’s fine asf. i was simply making an observation
naturally, no one let her breathe.
ashieee: street cred?????
wizard bupple: what streets u live in wyoming cuh
ellie's gf #real #actually: remember when u didn’t know or care who she was
ellie attempted damage control.
smellie #1 streamer and pro fortnite player: okay FIRST OF ALL, wyoming can get scrappy. i have plenty of cred.
smellie #1 streamer and pro fortnite player: and SECOND OF ALL. y’all clipped me out of context
smelly mod #2: you literally said “who even is that”
allyson.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱: in 4k babe. we got u in 4k
at some point, she just gave up.
smellie #1 streamer and pro fortnite player: i hate all of you
smellie #1 streamer and pro fortnite player: ok but if someone made very hot, sexy romantical edits of us tg i’d probably hate you a little less
smellie #1 streamer and pro fortnite player: #otp?! 🥺
smellie #1 streamer and pro fortnite player: new drop just landed. ur welcome 😎 tiktok.com/smellie
it was… a thirst trap.
or her version of one, which meant it was shot in her kitchen with bad lighting and camera half-tilted, lip-syncing to some dumb audio while wearing a backwards hat.
before her regulars could even start roasting her for it, someone had already forwarded the message from #announcements to #general with a reply:
pastalover: nobody’s watching ts 🤣
the server went feral.
laffey ʚɞ: HELLO????
marisol (she/they): EXCUSE ME???
ellie's shift key: you mean to tell me she has been here the whole time???
smellie #1 streamer and pro fortnite player: YOU’RE IN HERE??????
ellie immediately direct messaged you.
smellie: you’ve been lurking like a freak
smellie: you didn’t even say hi
smellie: and THAT’S what you break the silence with???
pastalover: be grateful i even watched it enough to know it was cringe
and then, a day later, you went live.
a rare event. your streams weren’t regular—more like when you were bored and felt cute. your overlay was minimal. just chat, a little corner cam, and non-copyrighted lofi in the background.
you were doing a get ready with me stream, mid-eyeliner, when you glanced over at chat and smirked.
"yes, i saw ellie’s most recent tiktok. yes, i wish i hadn’t.” you said, voice lazy with disinterest. “she’s, like, obsessed with me.”
topnoodle44: MY OLD MARRIED COUPLE 🥰
0ping: BE SERIOUS
ellieuseslightmode: ellie’s gonna faint
altaccnumber26: she’s in chat rn btw
iclutchforpastalover: she’s BEEN in chat
you paused.
“oh.” you looked at the camera with a raised brow. “she’s here? figures.”
ellie’s username popped up in chat two seconds later.
smellie: looking so good bestie 😳
smellie: drop the lip combo
smellie: or come here and kiss me so i can try it on
smellie: wait who said that-
you rolled your eyes. “i use a revlon lip liner in the shade mauve and then the elf lip oil in the shade jam session. not that these words would mean anything to you.”
smellie: blah blah blah. proper name, place name, backstory stuff.
you scoffed. “you’re unserious.”
mikuirl: just admit you kinda like her flirting
maybemaddie: WAIT I LOVE THE ELF LIP OILS WE’RE SO TWINNINGGGG
NotElliesAlt: ellie barely remembers chapstick LMAO
chousey203: i can’t tell if you curve her bc you hate her or bc you like her
“actually, i’m doing a public service. her ego needs balance.”
smellie: my ego’s doing fine. it’s my heart that’s in danger.
laughing, you leaned into the camera. “see? she’s like… weirdly committed to the bit.”
smellie: this isn’t a bit 🧍♂️
you stared at the chat, deadpan. “sooo, yeah. back to the tutorial. mods, can someone time ellie out for 300 seconds.”
smellie: WTF message deleted by a moderator.
the entire interaction was timestamped, clipped, and in about 15 different tiktoks within minutes.
twitch.tv/smellie — LIVE: carrying @ pastaluvrrr in fortnite
“okay,” ellie said confidently, leaning so excitedly forward into her mic her voice came out slightly fuzzy and bass-boosted, “fortnite is all about communication. precision. teamwork. and—most importantly—aura. follow my lead, you’ll be fine.”
“don’t you literally die first in every match?” you replied, sipping your drink without looking at the screen.
ellie scoffed. “i—okay, first of all, that’s slander. second of all, my KD ratio is… hold on…”
there was a pause as she scrambled to look it up.
“…okay, next topic” she mumbled after a beat. “ready up for me.”
ecam96: girl she gagged u
elliesdischarge: ur trash but ur hot so it’s fine
jmattsz: you’re both gonna get clapped in 2 minutes
besosss: SHE SAID FOLLOW HER LEAD 😭
“wait,” you said as you readied up, “how do i do the little dance?”
ellie gasped. “oh my god. you don’t have any emotes.”
“i don’t play this game!”
“yeah, no kidding,” she muttered. “hold on. i’m gonna flex real quick.”
your screen suddenly showed her character cycling through a ridiculous line-up of skins—spider-man, ariana grande, peely in a tuxedo.
“i cannot believe you spend real life money on this shit,” you said flatly.
“hey! some of them are gifted, okay?”
“your chat literally hates you, babe. who is gifting you anything?”
“HEY.”
slaystation_: did i just hear "babe" 👀👀👀
macetotheface: she’s negging her ON STREAM
ellieclips: ellie FIGHT BACK.
the game loaded in and she yelled at you to thank the bus driver like you had any idea how to do that or what she even meant. she picked some obscure landing spot and said “trust me” like she hadn’t already proven herself deeply untrustworthy.
you landed. broke open a chest. got a shotgun.
then immediately got shot in the back.
“oh my god,” you groaned. “ellie. help.”
ellie was halfway across the town, looting.
“you’re downed already?! hang on, hang on,” she said. “i’m coming. hey, don’t crawl away—wait.”
her character—bruno mars, she’d finally settled on—stood over you uselessly as the timer for the revive slowly ticked down.
“what are you waiting for, get me!”
“say please.”
“the fuck?”
“say 'pretty please with a cherry on top my most gracious streamer and fortnite carry god, ellie.'”
a beat.
you rolled your eyes, then smirked at the camera, clearing your throat and lilting breathily into your mic, “puhleeease, ellie?”
ellie stopped moving entirely, the tips of her ears going red in her grainy facecam. her character continued to stand there, unmoving.
“hello?” you prompted. “ellie?”
“sorry,” she said quickly, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears. “uhhhh.. got distracted by something.”
v4nitymirror: KEEP IT TOGETHER.
looten_scooten: ellie.exe has stopped working
elliethrows4me: she’s in love ur honor
she revived you with shaking hands and zero cover, getting absolutely lit up right after by a sniper.
“WHY DID YOU MAKE ME SAY THAT IF YOU WERE JUST GONNA DIE?”
“i panicked!!”
you cackled as the enemy finished her off, her reboot card popping up with all her loot (a grey pistol and a fishing pole).
and then—something strange happened.
as you ran to hide behind a tree, fully expecting to die immediately, two other players—clearly stream snipers—ran up to you. instead of killing you, they dropped guns. medkits. ammo. one of them started building a small base around your body like a protective little guard dog.
“ummm,” you said slowly, “are these… fans? what’s happening here”
“what the hell?” ellie said from the death screen. “they literally murdered me and are now… escorting you?”
one of the players' characters emoted and blew a kiss to you.
you laughed so hard you snorted a little. “babe. i think i have a fan club.”
“this is fuckin’ rigged,” ellie muttered. “i die first and you get princess treatment?”
you turned your character in a circle, doing a default dance in return for their affection.
“okay,” she said, “they’re banned. all of them. from chat. for life.”
boostedbytenshi: THEY’RE PROTECTING HER 😭😭😭
ayayayaim: reveal yourselves in chat this is too funny
elliebutinallcaps: jealous!ellie i fear
sandydunez: actual carrying. ellie could never.
you made it to the top five before your guards were finally overwhelmed and killed. you screamed as you got sniped out of a bush.
“so close,” you groaned, slumping back in your chair.
ellie sounded smug. “see? told you you needed me.”
you raised a brow. “i outlived you by, like, eight minutes.”
ellie’s kitchen wasn’t exactly equipped for a baking stream. one of the cameras was actually just her laptop with a built-in cam propped up on a couple of books, the $19.99 two-pack of cheap amazon microphones left much to be desired, and someone—ellie—had forgotten to actually buy half the ingredients before you flew in.
nevertheless, the chat was buzzing at the concept of seeing you and ellie actually interacting together, in-person.
“okay,” ellie said, clapping flour-covered hands together despite the recipe not even calling for flour, “welcome to my kitchen. today we’re making… brownies.”
“from a box,” you added.
“from the heart,” she corrected, nudging your hip with hers.
NotElliesAlt: “brownies” is code for sesbian lex isn’t it
usuallylurkin: HELLO? THAT HIP BUMP
elliesyumyum: when are y’all just gonna make out
you glanced at the recipe on the back of the box and back at the counter.
“you didn’t preheat the oven.”
“i—” ellie looked down. “i forgot.”
“ellie.”
“i got distracted.”
“by what?”
she looked at you. you stared back.
chat was going a mile a minute despite being on slow-mode.
“riiiiight,” you said slowly, turning to grab a mixing bowl like your pulse wasn’t suddenly doing backflips. “anyways. dry ingredients.”
ellie poured in the bagged mix way too fast, a cloud of dust puffing out from the bowl making you both cough.
"careful, ellie."
she laughed, leaning in to read chat, her face taking up half of the camera.
"holy jumpscare, could you get any closer?"
ellieuseslightmode: back up WE'RE SCARED
topnoodle44: where are her sweats from theyre so cute :00
elliethrows4me: can we start a prediction on whether or not they'll burn the brownies
she just laughed, her eyes continuing to skim through the messages. "where are the sweats from?" she leaned back, moving to tug on the waistband of the pants you were wearing, "these are actually from my highschool, funny enough."
you pressed your lips together in a thin line, giving her a look. you hadn't exactly planned on letting chat know you were wearing her clothes and they were about to have a field day with the information.
there was a pause. then she cleared her throat, turned back to the camera, and grinned, "and my shorts are from nike!"
"alright. moving on. can we actually bake now?" you opened a cabinet, scanned it. “where are the chocolate chips?”
“should be in the pantry.”
you walked over and gave the pantry a brief glance-over. not there. “can’t find it.”
“lemme help,” ellie said.
she followed you off-camera, into the pantry.
which would’ve been fine.
except you were really close in there. the shelves were shallow, the door was half-closed, and neither of you had thought to flip the switch outside that turned the lightbulb on.
“what are we looking for again?” she asked, a rustle of plastic punctuating her words.
“chocolate chips. i literally said that ten seconds ago.”
you glanced up as she pushed further into the pantry beside you, her shoulder bumping yours. she didn’t move.
“you found them yet?” she asked, not really looking at the shelves anymore.
“no,” you said, quieter than you meant to.
she turned her head. now she was looking at you.
you swallowed. “getting distracted again?”
her lips quirked into a small smile. “yeah.”
you nodded. "me too."
and then she kissed you.
it was sudden—soft and unsurprisingly clumsy, her hand brushing your waist as her other arm bumped into the baking powder and nearly knocked it off the shelf. your back hit the wall with a dull thud as she licked into your mouth.
and your clipped-on microphones were definitely still recording everything.
NotElliesAlt: HELLO???
tima0911: WHAT AM I HEARING RN
tryqt: LIPS. ARE. SMACKING.
elliesdischarge: holy makeout
elliebutinallcaps: THE MICS ARE ON YOU IDIOTS
when you came back into frame, cheeks flushed and mouth definitely more swollen than it had been before, ellie trailed behind you with the chocolate chips in hand and the cockiest little smirk on her face.
you avoided eye contact with the camera.
“soooooo,” you said, voice slightly higher than usual, “we found them!”
“yep,” ellie said casually, “took some digging. but we got there.”
v4nitymirror: TOOK SOME DIGGING IS CRAZY
jmattsz: i can't believe i said i'd gift 20 subs when they finally hooked up and it actually happened on stream.
you coughed. “oven’s ready.”
you leaned over the sink, dabbing at the last of your eyeliner smudge with a cotton round. your reflection stared back—cheeks still hot, lips a little too swollen.
behind you, ellie was half-sprawled across the bed, scrolling idly on her phone.
“you always take this long to wash your face?” her voice was soft. teasing, but not unkind.
you met her eyes in the mirror. “yes. i've made multiple tiktoks about my routine. and i know you've watched all of them.”
she laughed and didn’t deny it. just rolled over onto her back, one arm slung behind her head. “will you do some skincare on me?"
you flicked the faucet off and reached for a towel. “what am i, your servant?"
“you’re sleeping in my bed,” she pointed out, lazily. "you ought to be nice to me."
you turned, towel pressed to your chin. “you invited me.”
“i did,” she agreed. the look she gave you was unmistakable—open, fond, a little reverent.
you padded over and tossed the towel onto your overnight bag. the air between you crackled. ellie’s gaze tracked you the entire way.
she scooted over. you climbed in beside her.
there was a pause. your shoulder brushed hers. then, her fingers found your wrist under the covers, a gentle tap like a question.
you turned to face her. “you gonna be annoying if i kiss you again?”
her smile was slow and stupid and something close to relieved. “probably.”
you kissed her anyway.
this one lasted longer. and the next, even longer. not rushed, not frantic—just deliberate. exploratory. like neither of you were in a hurry now that the door had been opened.
her hand found your thigh. your knee nudged between hers.
she pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against yours. voice low, barely more than a breath: “i really like you.”
you blinked. something in your chest cracked open.
“yeah?” you whispered.
she nodded, eyes searching yours. “yeah. like… not just for streams or clips or whatever. i mean it.”
you smiled, soft and crooked. “good,” you said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. then to her jaw. “'cause i kinda really like you too," you muttered, continuing to press wet, open-mouthed kisses down her neck.
she let herself sink back into the pillows as you shifted to straddle her, hands coming up to rest on your waist. "t-that's.... that's good. perfect. ideal, honestlaaah fuck—" the grip she had on your hipbones grew tighter as you sucked at a particularly sensitive spot on her collarbone.
"you've got such a way with words, smellie."
"fuck off," she breathed out. "don't bring up stream shit when you're in bed with me."
"whatcha gonna do about it?"
she grunted, sliding one of her hands in between both of you to wiggle it underneath your sleep shorts. you gasped, feeling her fingers press up against the wet cotton of your underwear. "that. i'm gonna do that."
you reached down to grip her wrist and re-direct her hand so she was actually touching you beneath the fabric, "well, do a little more."
she groaned, her fingers sliding through the slick that met her there. "fuuuck, that's hot. guiding my hands 'n shit."
you huffed out a laugh that melded into a moan as her fingers fell into a quick pace, tight circles on your clit. "why are you— oh shit justlikethatyeah.." you gulped in a breath before continuing, "why are you fuckin' narrating our hookup right now?"
the angle was a little awkward and she could feel something in her wrist clicking with every swirl of her fingers but she would rather keel over and croak than stop right now.
the pain was irrelevant. especially when you were sitting up slightly to slide your t-shirt up and off and grab desperately at your own tits, manicured thumbs flicking nipples gone taut from the sudden temperature change.
and when you whined out a "fuuuck, ellie!" all tight and wiry and even better than she'd imagined on countless nights alone in that same bed with her hands shoved beneath her boxers, she couldn't help but nuzzle her head clumsily at your chest, nudging your hand away from your right breast with her forehead so she could replace your tugging fingers with her mouth.
your hips jerked forward and the now-free hand latched onto her shoulder for balance as you cried out, her lips pulling and teeth nicking just slightly before she soothed the peak with soft laps of her tongue.
"you like 'em played with, huh?" you could feel the vibration of her mumbling against the flesh of your boob.
"stop fucking talking, ellie. this is sex, not one of those slutty fanfictions people have been writing about us." you punctuated your words with fast firm rolls of your hips, now grinding your puffy clit into her palm as she fucked two long fingers steadily into you.
"yeah, well there's gonna be a whole lot more of those after that little stunt we pulled on stream earlier."
"i thought you said no stream talk in bed— ohhh, oh god. shit— fuck, 'm close."
"yeah? you gonna cum for me?" she was panting, damp puffs of air against your nipple interrupted occasionally by a haphazard suck or nibble. her wrist—aching by now—swiveled as her began to curl her fingers inside of you with purpose, the heel of her hand rubbing firmly against you.
"keep goin'— fuck keep talkin' to me. please don't stop."
"thought you wanted me to shut up? thought you said this wasn't some smutty one-shot, huh?"
the hand gripping her shoulder slid around to the base of her neck. you grabbed purchase on the short hairs there, tugging as she whimpered into you. "ellie if you don't talk me through it right now i sweartogod—"
"alright, alright! i gotcha, baby. cum for me. thaaaaat's it."
a loud moan punched out of you. “shit—fuck— 'm cumming.” your other palm left your own chest to clasp over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your sounds and she quickly moved the hand that was urging your twitching hips to grab your wrist and pull it away.
"hey, none of that. talking is encouraged now, remember?
"shut up." you gritted out through a groan, your hips jerking as your teeth caught on your bottom lip.
"alright, nevermind. not encouraged. copy that."
you tugged on her hair again to mash your lips together, effectively silencing her and sagging bonelessly against her as you came down from your high.
when the both of you finally parted, you looked down to see her mouth slack, head tilted back, and eyes so hazy you'd think she was the one who just came.
she blinked blearily up at you. "you're even bossier in bed than you are regularly. it's so sexy."
"if i hadn't told you to shut up so many times already, i would say it again."
she laughed out loud at that and you couldn't help but giggle back.
"how about i shut you up instead, yeah? put that mouth to work?"
you learned very quickly that she tended to be kind of squirmy when she was on the receiving end. it was as if she was unable to sit still in the onslaught of pleasure. honestly, it modeled how she was normally, always kind of twitchy and buzzing with energy.
you knew on future nights, you were going to revel in the experience of holding her down, pinning bucking hips to the mattress or firming your grasp on shaking thighs to keep them spread apart.
tonight, instead, you basked in the push and pull, chasing her with your mouth when she wriggled away and groaning in pleasure when she tugged you closer by your hair.
and when you slipped into a particularly good rhythm, hollowing your cheeks with every perfect pull of her clit into your mouth and lashing your tongue at the swollen nub, her hands scrambled to find purchase on something. anything. your sex-mussed hair, unraveled from the neat up-do you had put it in to prepare for bed. your bare, sweat-damp shoulders. and, finally, the perpetually messy sheets below her.
her left leg kicked out and she dug her heel into the mattress for leverage to thrust her hips up and up and up into you, her lower half rising so high you had to pull her by her bony hipbones back down so you could maintain the suction.
"fuuuh– ah, shit. i think i'm gonna—" she was propped up on her elbows now, fluttering eyes focused on you with a desperate gleam to them.
you worked her over with your mouth earnestly, keeping steady eye contact as she lifted a trembling hand, moving as if she was going to pull your head closer, bury your face even deeper in her.
but then those same eyes rolled back into her skull as she flopped back down, the hand falling to grip the sheets once again.
"fuck'mgonnacumbaby" she garbled out and the sight of her chest arching up made her tits look so pretty under her thin white tank top, you wished you had a free hand to reach up and tweak a nipple.
she let out a high-pitched, whispery whine that petered out into silence.
for a couple seconds, all that could be heard was the slurps as you lapped at her, and the hum of the fans from her pc in the corner of her room.
and then—
muffled groans as the strength of her closing thighs finally broke the grip you had on them and pressed against your ears. she wasn't good at staying still, but, apparently, she was even worse when she came, her body folding in on itself as she jerkily fucked her hips up into the heat of your mouth.
you let her fuck your face, your blunt nails dragging red lines down the sides of her thighs. the slight sting of pain grounded her, helping her ride out the waves and stopping her from getting too overwhelmed in the throes of an orgasm.
pulling your head back slightly, you alternated between soft, sticky kisses to her inner thighs and kitten licks at her entrance, cleaning her up and soothing her at the same time as she caught her breath.
"fuck. c'mere."
trembling hands cupped your face as she weakly tugged you toward her. you let her, shifting to settle into her side and throw a leg over her own. she sighed, wrapping her arm around you, pulling you even closer.
"whaaat?" she whined, craning her neck to glare when she felt you giggle. "why’re you laughin' at me?"
"because i know you’re about to try and convince me to go to sleep without washing my face again. and you know i can’t do that."
she didn’t answer — just flopped her head back on the pillow and shut her eyes tight, fake snoring loudly.
"ellie," you warned.
"can't talk. too busy snoozin'."
"my face is a mess, ellie. my hair too.”
"yeah, well. maybe you should've thought about this before you made me cum so hard i couldn't breathe. i absolutely can not move now, let alone clean up!"
you sighed, pushing yourself up off the bed — or trying to. the arm she had wrapped around you tightened in protest.
“ellie, seriously.”
“you can’t move either! i want you to stay. please? pretty please with a cherry on top my most gracious streamer and fortnite carry god?”
you shot her a glare and she grinned, clearly sensing how flimsy your resolve was.
“just five more minutes. then we’ll get up. wash our faces, brush our teeth. hell, i’ll even floss for you tonight, baby. bought those little sticks you’re always ranting about in those hygiene haul videos and everything.”
you huffed. wiped the back of your hand across the bottom half of your face like it would do anything. huffed again.
“fine. but seriously. five minutes. then we’re going.”
you woke up the next morning with a sticky face, ellie drooling on your collarbone, and your phone nearly buzzing off the nightstand from the amount of notifications you'd received post-stream.
twitch.tv/smellie — LIVE: eating victory crowns for breakfast 🥱
she was streaming fortnite the next morning, acting like nothing had happened. hoodie up, drawstrings pulled tighter than usual to ensure the hickeys you’d sucked into her skin the night before were thoroughly hidden.
she was focused—well, pretending to be—talking about the latest installment of some comic she was obsessed with while looting in-game and ignoring the onslaught of questions in chat.
elliebutinallcaps: WHERE IS SHE??
NotElliesAlt: so you’re avoiding the MASSIVE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM?
elliesdischarge: she’s kneeling under the desk, be honest message deleted by moderator
macetotheface: she’s prob busy making breakfast in ur hoodie
altaccnumber29: blink twice if ur post-nut right now message deleted by moderator
“okay, so—” she was mid-rant when she paused, squinting at the chat. “jesus. y’all are crazy today. can we just play the game?”
messages were flying so fast her eyes couldn’t keep up:
ellieuseslightmode: BRING HER BACKKKKKK
ellieclips: we literally heard the makeout. you cannot gaslight us.
v4nitymirror: wait did she leave?? is she even still there 😭
maybemaddie: GUYS WHAT IF THEY FOUGHT AFTER. what if it was a drunk kiss and now it’s awkward.
she was sorting through her load-out after an intense fight she nearly lost against a surfer jonesy when it happened:
pastaluvrrr: hiiiii girlfriend 😽
she froze.
the click of her mouse stopped mid-action. the corner of her mouth twitched like she was trying not to react, but the flush across her face betrayed her instantly.
“oh my god,” she mumbled, shrinking into her hoodie. “why are you like this.”
chat, consequently, blew the fuck up.
elliesyumyum: GIRLFRIEND????? GIRLFRIEND.
tima0911: please say this vod will be on youtube. PLEASE.
elliethrows4me: NOOOOO SHE TOOK MY BITCH
tryqt: not the hard launch via twitch chat LMAOOOO
ayayayaim: SOMEONE CLIP THIS
ellieclips: OH MY FUCKING GOD???
ellie tilted back in her chair, red spreading all the way down her neck. “i dunno why she’s lurking in chat when she’s literally downstairs,” she muttered, trying (and failing) to sound unbothered.
on cue, soft footsteps padded into the room. then came your voice, faint off-screen:
“i was making a matcha.”
the camera unfocused and refocused as you leaned into frame and planted a wet kiss on her mouth.
no warning. just one hand on her shoulder, the other still holding your drink. it was passionate, unashamed, and unnecessarily long.
“does that answer everyone’s questions?” you asked, eyebrow raised.
ellie blinked at you, dazed. then turned to chat—
only to see her character had died while she was busy making out with you.
“awesome,” she mumbled, cheeks ruddy. “you got me killed. hope you’re proud of yourself.”
jmattsz: holy tomato face
mikuirl: THEYRE SO GROSS I LOVE THEM
looten_scooten: i just took so many screenshots im out of storage
iclutchforpastalover: MAMA Y PAPA
you breezed out of frame again like nothing had even happened. ellie cleared her throat. “okay. uhhhh, alright... so!”
chousey203: any day now….
elliebutinallcaps: SPIT IT OUT GIRL
ecam96: 100% just creamed her pants message deleted by a moderator
slaystation_: DUDE UR SO RED
“mods please,” she begged, hiding her face in her hands. “put chat in emote only. i’m not doing this.”
summary: what was supposed to be a fun afternoon with your niece ended up being a complete mess of a weekend with your girlfriend and the four-year-old.
word count: 5.2k
THE APARTMENT was already a mess when Ellie knocked.
Not a normal kind of mess. No, this was the kind of mess born from full-blown four-year-old dictatorship, with the energy of an untrained golden retriever.
It started earlier that afternoon — a call from your brother that came in right as you were pouring your third coffee of the day. “Please. Please. I’m already late. Her sitter bailed. It’s just a few hours. You’re her favorite. Remember? That time with the popsicles?”
You hadn’t remembered the popsicles. Instead, you remembered the toy box incident. The “don’t cut your own bangs” incident. The “where did she get glitter glue at a Thai restaurant?” incident.
But by the time you could form an excuse, he was already thanking you profusely and hanging up.
And so you ended up like this. Standing in the middle of your apartment, Ellie’s oversized t-shirt hanging off your shoulder and now proudly stamped with a pink dinosaur sticker and a suspicious chocolate handprint. A unicorn sticker clung to your cheek. Your bun had given up sometime around snack hour. And your couch? Fully taken hostage by a very small, very bossy tyrant named Sophie.
Sophie, your niece, was a walking contradiction. She could command a room of adults with a single lifted eyebrow, and yet turn beet red when a stranger said hello. She was shy around new people, but once she decided you were safe? That was it. She owned you. She was relentless, clever, full of opinions and she never got tired.
You were barely hanging on.
Toys were scattered across every inch of the living room. The TV was still paused on a Bluey chapter that was only interesting for, like, five minutes. A mixing bowl of cookie dough sat abandoned on the counter, crusting over, as Sophie insisted she couldn’t make the next batch until “Rexy” (her green triceratops plush) had picked his favorite cookie cutter.
You were elbow-deep in chaos, glitter, and existential dread. And then there was a knock. You froze, and your heart sank. Because that was Ellie. And today, ironically, was supposed to be your quiet anniversary night. The night you’d both been looking forward to all week. A cozy little dinner, movie on the couch, maybe even wine. You’d even bought her favorite kind, the one with the label she always made fun of but secretly liked.
Instead? Your house looked like a Crayola-fueled tornado hit a dinosaur museum. You trudged to the door, took one breath in, and opened it.
There she was. Your neighbor, looking criminally good in her worn hoodie and flannel jacket. Her auburn locks were messy in that way that made you want to run your fingers through them.
She blinked once. Took in the full scene, looked your stained shirt, your tangled hair and the faint smell of vanilla. And she grinned.
“Hey, lover girl,” she said, voice teasing and full of something warm. “You throwing a rave in here? Without me?”
You groaned. “El, I’m so sorry— I forgot it was today. My brother dropped Sophie off, and it was supposed to be a few hours, and then she started planning her own cookie empire, and I don’t know how, but there’s glitter in the microwave, and—”
Ellie stepped forward, kissed your cheek gently, and interrupted with a soft “Breathe.”
You exhaled. Tried to laugh. “I swear I was gonna wear the nice shirt. The one you really like.”
Ellie looked you up and down, nodded sagely, and tapped the purple crayon mark near your shoulder. “This one’s better. You’re giving... ‘toddler battle casualty,’ but like, hot.”
You laughed and stepped aside to let her in. The moment she crossed the threshold, Sophie peeked out from behind the pillow fort.
Ellie spotted her immediately. “Hey,” she said, voice dropping to that careful, open softness she reserved for animals, nervous kids, and you. “I remember you. From your dad’s birthday. You threw juice on my lap. Iconic move, though.”
Sophie stared at her with the intensity of someone assessing a threat level.
You whispered, “She’s shy. Needs a minute.”
Ellie nodded, and crouched, her hands tucked under her knees. “I heard you’re into dinosaurs,” she said casually.
Sophie narrowed her eyes. “Who told you that?”
Ellie’s eyes flicked to you. “A little birdie. And also the fossil exhibit in the living room.”
Sophie considered that. Slowly stepped out, still gripping Rexy like a shield. “Do you know any?”
Ellie blinked. “Do I know any? No way! I once stayed up until three a.m. learning the difference between a pterosaur and a pterodactyl. And I’m still not over the fact that velociraptors had feathers.”
Sophie stared. “You know about the feathers?”
Ellie’s voice dropped to a stage whisper. “I respect the feathers.”
You watched as Sophie’s shoulders relaxed the tiniest bit. “We were gonna make T. rex cookies,” she muttered. “But we don’t have a cutter.”
Ellie clutched her chest like she’d been personally wounded. “No T. rex cutter?”
“Right?!”
Ellie nodded seriously. “We’ll improvise. That’s what real scientists do.”
And just like that, Sophie climbed fully out from behind the couch, handed Ellie a plush like it was a peace treaty, and declared: “This is Rexy. He’s the boss.”
“Rexy?”
“Yeah. He’s the boss.”
Your girlfriend looked down at the plushie, wincing. “But look, buddy, this is a Triceratops. You can tell from the three—”
You interrupted from the kitchen. “—wrap it up, babe.”
Ellie sighed dramatically, feigning indifference. “Alright. It’s a very special, honorary T. rex who, uh, just happens to have three horns.”
Sophie took the plush, nodded seriously. “Good. He’s allowed.”
Your girlfriend glanced at you, then back at Sophie, then said casually, “Hey, Commander Dino, can I borrow your assistant for a minute?”
The kid nodded, already pulling out the glitter glue. Ellie stood, crossed the room, and took your hands. “You look like you haven’t peed since noon,” she said, too seriously.
“I haven’t.”
“Oh god. Do me a favor and go pee and take a shower, yeah? I got this.”
“But I—”
She raised a brow. “—you kinda stink, baby.”
Your jaw dropped. “Ellie!”
She leaned in, kissed your cheek again. “ Go. I’ll hold down the dino fort.”
You stared at her, heart full and dumb. And then nodded. “Okay. Ten minutes.”
“Fifteen it’s okay too.” Ellie winked, and you disappeared down the hall, heart light for the first time all day. Behind you, you heard her say, “Sophie, I have a mission. We’re gonna make the best non-T. rex cookies in the galaxy. But first, we need a glitter strategy.”
And Sophie, without hesitation, replied: “I have a plan.”
You smiled into your towel as you closed the bathroom door. And for the first time in hours, you let yourself relax.
THE SUN was warm on your back as you pushed open the creaky gate to the park, Sophie’s tiny hand wrapped securely in yours, her sparkly shoes skipping excitedly across the gravel path. Ellie followed behind, hands in the pockets of her hoodie.
“Swings first,” Sophie declared. “Then monkey bars!”
The park was mostly empty except for a few kids on the climbing structure and a couple of moms on a nearby bench. You helped Sophie onto a swing while Ellie wandered toward the bench under a shade tree, where she could keep eyes on both of you while pretending not to be soft as hell about it.
Everything felt… easy. The breeze carrying the smell of mulch and grass and sunscreen. Sophie giggling as she pumped her legs higher. You felt Ellie’s gaze on you and turned around to see her snap a photo — quickly, shyly — then look away like she hadn’t just caught you mid-smile.
“Why is that boy wearing a girl’s top?” a young voice said nearby, loud and obnoxiously clear.
Sophie slowed her swing, blinking. You turned, heart already dropping, and spotted a boy, maybe six or seven, standing with a group of kids near the slide. He pointed a sticky finger at Ellie. “She looks like a boy.”
Another kid giggled. “Is that your dad?”
You froze. But Sophie didn’t.
She hopped off the swing, stomped across the mulch with her fists clenched and her face red.
“That’s my aunt,” she said, loud. “And you’re a poop face.”
The boy’s eyes narrowed. “She’s not your real aunt. My dad says people like that are gross. What a freak.”
The words landed like a slap. You were already moving fast, but Sophie beat you to it.
“Go chew glass!” she snapped, voice shrill with fury. “You’re the freak!”
You blinked in shock. “Sophie—!”
Ellie had already stood from the bench, expression unreadable.
Before you could reach either of them, a tall woman stormed over, her heels clicking furiously on the path. “Hey,” she said, voice clipped and full of judgment. “Is that your child?”
“My niece, actually.”
“Well, she just told my son to chew glass.”
Sophie, still puffed up and red from anger, crossed her arms. “Because he was being mean!”
The woman turned sharply toward Ellie then, sneering. “I don’t know what you people think is appropriate, but flaunting this sort of lifestyle in front of children is completely out of line.”
You opened your mouth, but Ellie’s voice cut through the air.
“This ‘lifestyle’ is just me existing.”
The woman scoffed. “Well, maybe people like you shouldn’t be around kids. God knows you can’t have any of your own.”
Your breath hitched. You instinctively reached for Sophie’s hand and pulled her close, her little fingers clinging to yours.
Ellie’s face stayed calm, too calm. Her eyes didn’t blink, and her voice didn’t waver. “And thank God for that,” she said flatly. “Because if having a kid means raising a bigot who gets his vocabulary from someone like you, I’d pass.”
The woman gasped. “Excuse me—”
“No,” Ellie said, still calm. “Excuse me. For thinking, I could come to the park and watch my girlfriend push her niece on a swing without getting lectured by someone whose personality is just internalized and mediocre hate.”
You choked on a laugh that almost turned into a sob. Sophie squeezed your hand tighter.
The woman’s face turned scarlet. “You’re disgusting. Both of you. This is sick.”
Ellie’s expression changed, just for a second. You saw it. The shift. A flicker of something wounded. You stepped in then, guiding Sophie back toward the bench, crouching low so she wouldn’t have to hear the rest.
And then the father came. Of course he did. Loud and aggressive. “What’s going on here?”
“She insulted our son,” the woman snapped, pointing at Ellie. “She and her… friend.”
Ellie gave a bitter laugh. “Friend? Is that your polite word for dyke today?”
The man took a step forward. “Hey, watch it.”
“No,” Ellie said, eyes sharp now. “You watch it.” You turned, still crouched behind Sophie, who was now hugging her dino plush tightly to her chest. “You want to teach your kid to be cruel? Fine by me. But don’t pretend it’s me that’s the danger here.”
Ellie stepped close, unafraid. “Don’t you dare look at me like I’m the problem. I didn’t teach a kid to hate someone for loving someone else. That was you.”
Silence. Thick and awkward and heavy. The man opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His wife tugged his arm, sputtering something about leaving. And then they were gone.
You let out a long, slow breath. Your hands were shaking a little. Ellie turned to you, her expression softening immediately. “You okay?”
You nodded, blinking fast. “Are you?”
She hesitated. “I’m used to it. But… I hate when you hear it.”
You stood and pulled her into a one-armed hug with your free arm, Sophie still tucked against your hip. “You didn’t deserve that. Ever.”
Ellie swallowed. “Neither do you.”
Then a tiny voice whispered between you. “Can we go home?”
You nodded quickly. “Yeah, baby. We can.”
Ellie offered her hand to Sophie, and she took it instantly.
As the three of you walked back toward the car, Ellie glanced over and said softly, “Remind me to buy her a whole cake.”
“For telling that kid to chew glass?”
“Exactly.”
YOU HAD just gotten home from the park. The golden-hour sun had followed you in, spilling lazy light across the floor and catching on the faint glitter still clinging to your couch cushions from earlier.
Sophie was already half-asleep in Ellie’s arms.
At some point between the sidewalk and the front step, the four-year-old tornado had lost steam. Now she was curled up against Ellie’s chest like she’d been born to fit there, head resting in the dip of her shoulder, clutching her beloved plush dinosaur like a sleepy lifeline.
Ellie had popped on a random episode of Pokémon and was whispering little commentary into Sophie’s hair every so often.
You just smiled and leaned against the kitchen counter, watching them— the quiet rise and fall of Sophie’s chest, the way Ellie adjusted her arm every so often without waking her, like she was terrified of being too firm. Like she knew exactly how to hold a child who trusted her.
Then your phone buzzed on the table.
You hesitated, not wanting to break the peace. But it was your brother’s name on the screen, and something about the timing made your gut twist.
You stepped into the hallway and answered quietly. “Hey, what’s up?”
“I—shit. I’m sorry,” your brother said immediately, already frazzled. “The meeting ran late. There’s a dinner thing now, and I’m stuck. Like, stuck-stuck. I was gonna send someone, but they bailed.”
You frowned. “So…?”
“I can’t grab Soph tonight. I didn’t mean to dump her on you for this long, I swear.”
You glanced through the hallway, back into the living room, and felt the tension in your shoulders ease. Sophie hadn’t moved. Ellie had shifted slightly, stretching her legs along the couch now, her hand cradling Sophie’s back like instinct.
You felt something heavy and soft settle in your chest. “It’s okay,” you said gently, lowering your voice. “She can stay the night.”
Your brother exhaled on the other end. “Are you sure? Like, really sure? You guys had plans today, right?”
“Don’t worry about it,” you said, watching Ellie brush a strand of hair from Sophie’s forehead, slow and careful. “Honestly, I think she’d be heartbroken if I tried to wake her up right now.”
“She likes her,” your brother said quietly. “Ellie.”
You smiled. “Yeah. She likes Sophie too.”
“Tell her thanks, okay? And thank you. Seriously. You’re saving my ass, once again.”
You murmured a goodbye and hung up, then padded softly back into the living room. Ellie didn’t look away from the screen, but her voice was low and amused. “Was that Big Brother?”
You nodded, easing down beside her. “Yeah. He’s stuck at some dinner thing. Can’t pick her up.”
Ellie glanced down at Sophie’s sleeping face, then up at you with a crooked little smile. “So it’s a sleepover, then.”
You let out a soft laugh. “Looks like it.”
She adjusted the blanket across Sophie’s legs with one hand. “Guess that makes me the honorary cool aunt. Or maybe the dino wrangler.”
“You might be both.”
You sat for a moment in the quiet, listening to the muffled sounds of Pikachu yelling on screen, watching the soft light of the TV ripple across Ellie’s freckled face.
She looked so at peace. Like this wasn’t even a question. Like this was the most natural thing in the world. This kid tucked against her, your hand close by, the three of you wrapped in something wordless and safe.
You hesitated, then whispered, “You don’t have to stay.”
Ellie turned to you. “What?”
“You’ve had a long day. I know. You don’t have to stay the whole night, El. I can—”
“Nope.” Her answer was firm. “Not happening.”
You felt your throat tighten. “I just meant, if you’re tired—”
“I am tired,” she said. “But this—” she nodded toward Sophie, curled tighter now, cheek squished into her chest, “—this is the kind of tired I don’t mind. I’d rather be here, in your living room, covered in cookie crumbs and glitter dino stickers, than anywhere else.”
You looked at her for a long time, heart full. Then, shifted closer and pressed your lips to her cheek, then her jaw. She turned into the touch.
“I love you,” you murmured.
She smiled into your hair. “I love you more.”
Then she leaned her head against yours and let out a quiet sigh. You didn’t say anything else for a while. You didn’t need to. Just the three of you, safe under a shared blanket, with Rexy the dinosaur squished between Ellie’s ribs and Sophie’s tiny arm.
Outside, the sky darkened.
Inside, it felt like home.
THAT peace was now long gone. Sophie stirred eventually, as she always did, grumpy and dramatic about the fact that time had passed. “Is it nighttime?” she asked from Ellie’s chest, blinking slowly like a confused space traveler.
Ellie chuckled and brushed a hand over her messy hair. “Almost. Sun’s clocking out.”
You sat up and stretched. “Alright, munchkin. Bedtime routine. Let’s go.”
Sophie groaned louder. “But we didn’t even finish the Pikachu episode!”
“You drooled on me halfway through it,” Ellie pointed out gently.
“No I didn’t,” Sophie mumbled, eyes already drifting shut again.
Ellie looked over at you, grinning. “Want me to take the lead?”
You raised a brow. “You sure you’re ready for the Great Toothbrush War?”
“I survived the Dino Rebellion,” she replied. “I can handle her.”
You smirked and waved her toward the hallway. “Be my guest, Captain.”
Ellie stood and scooped Sophie up with practiced ease. “Alright, space cadet. Teeth, pajamas, and then I’ll tell you a story about the time a dinosaur got abducted by aliens.”
Sophie’s head popped up from Ellie’s shoulder. “Wait. Really?!”
“Oh yeah,” Ellie said seriously. “Dead serious.”
You watched them disappear down the hall together, your tiny niece still clutching her dino plush, her other hand twisted into the collar of Ellie’s hoodie like she belonged there. And she did. That part was undeniable now.
You moved through the quiet, straightening blankets, folding up half-painted coloring books, collecting plastic stegosauruses off the coffee table like little emotional landmines. You lit the soft lamp by the couch and dimmed the TV until only the faintest blue light flickered across the walls.
Twenty minutes later, Ellie reemerged.
Her hair looked messier, the neckline of her hoodie slightly wet, which you didn’t ask about, and she was holding the empty cup from the kids’ toothpaste like a war trophy. “She fought me,” Ellie said with mock exhaustion, flopping beside you. “But I prevailed.”
“She got the T. rex jammies?”
“Obviously. We don’t mess around on sleepover night.”
You smiled and leaned into her, pulling the throw blanket over both of you. “She asleep?”
“Out like a light. But not before I told her about the dinosaur who accidentally got launched into space by a rogue scientist named Dr. Picklejuice.”
You choked on your laugh. “What?!”
“She named him. I don’t ask questions.”
You kissed her temple. “You’re really good with her.”
Ellie blushed slightly. “She makes it easy.”
You nodded, then paused. The comfort started to settle, but something else was still under your skin. You weren’t sure why it suddenly pushed to the surface. Maybe it was the quiet. Maybe it was seeing Ellie so soft and gentle in a way you knew not everyone had accepted in her life.
Ellie noticed instantly. Of course she did. Her hand slid over yours beneath the blanket.
“Hey,” she said quietly. “You good?”
You hesitated, eyes still on the low flicker of the TV. “I’ve been trying not to think about the park.”
Ellie didn’t say anything yet. She just squeezed your fingers.
“It wasn’t even about me,” you continued. “Not really. But the things they said about you. The way they looked at you. Like…” You swallowed. “Like you shouldn’t be near her.”
Your voice cracked on that last word, and Ellie turned toward you instantly.
“They don’t know you,” you said quickly, like if you said it fast enough it wouldn’t sting. “They don’t see how good you are with her. How kind. And smart. And patient.”
Ellie stayed quiet for a second longer, then turned your hand over in hers, tracing small circles into your palm with her thumb. “I’m used to it,” she said, almost too calmly. “It doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck, but it’s not new.”
“I hate that,” you whispered.
“I know.”
You looked at her then, eyes wet. “You shouldn’t have to be used to it. We shouldn’t have to be used to it.”
Ellie smiled, soft and sad. “It’s the trade-off, sometimes. Being who you are in a world that still isn’t built for you.”
You leaned into her shoulder, voice thick. “I just wanted today to be easy for you.”
She pulled you tighter. “It was. But the hard parts? Totally worth it.”
“I just... I got scared. That someone will say something worse. Do something worse.”
Ellie’s hand slipped into your hair, gentle. “If they do, they’ll have to go through me first.”
And just like that, you fell asleep. You didn’t really mean to. You were just curled into her side, the warmth of her arm around your waist, her nose tucked behind your ear, the blanket pulled high, the distant sound of Sophie’s sleepy breathing coming from the bedroom.
The last thing you heard was Ellie’s voice, barely audible. “G’night, angel”
And then the world slipped away, and everything folded into dreams.
YOUR eyes blinked open slowly, lashes still heavy with dreams, your body warm and wrapped in Ellie’s hoodie. You’d fallen asleep tangled on the couch, but there was no sight of your girlfriend. You stayed there a moment, taking in the early morning quiet. The apartment was softly lit with that pre-8 a.m. haze, the golden sunlight creeping through the curtains.
Something clattered, and Sophie’s voice rang out, bright and relentless, from down the hall. “Do dinosaurs even like waffles?!”
You smiled against the cushion and slowly peeled yourself away.
Padding down the hall, you made your way toward the bathroom, expecting Sophie looking around your drawers. But what you weren’t expecting was Ellie, kneeling on the floor. A full YouTube tutorial paused on her phone, her head tilted as she stared with furrowed, confused concentration at Sophie, who was sitting cross-legged on the closed toilet lid, eyes wild and arms flailing.
“Okay,” Sophie said, mid-rant, “but what if, listen, what if dinosaurs came back but they were like, invisible, and only dogs could see them, so we wouldn’t even know, and maybe that’s why dogs bark all the time!”
Ellie, holding a brush and a hair tie, blinked slowly. “… That’s a terrifying theory.”
“I know, right!”
“Okay, um—head down, kiddo, please.”
Sophie obliged, swinging her head down dramatically. “Are you sure this video is even going to work? It looks old.”
“It’s a braid tutorial, not a crime scene documentary.”
You laughed, and Ellie looked up then, meeting your eyes in the mirror, and froze, immediately flushing. “Oh. Uh. Hey.”
You leaned against the door frame, arms crossed. “You braid now?”
Ellie cleared her throat. “I’m… learning.”
“Mm-hm.”
Sophie twisted around. “She’s trying to do Elsa hair, but it’s not working. At all.”
“I said I’m learning,” Ellie muttered, red now. “There’s, like, sections. And weaving. And finger placement. It’s a lot.”
You walked over, kissed the top of Sophie’s head. “She’s trying very hard.”
“She’s not very good, though.”
Ellie let out a wounded gasp. “Ma’am, I am a musician, not a hairdresser. I work with strings for a living.”
Ten minutes later, Sophie was sitting at the kitchen table with a slightly better braid and a mountain of crayons spread across your place mats. A half-colored dinosaur coloring page was already crumpled from her sheer intensity.
“Can dinosaurs wear clothes?” she asked no one in particular.
Ellie, flipping pancakes at the stove, said, “Only the fashionable ones.”
Sophie grinned. “Like Rexy. He wears capes sometimes.”
You were slicing bananas, watching it all like some surreal Sunday morning sitcom.
Ellie passed you a plate, leaning in to kiss your temple. “You slept hard.”
You nodded. “Did I snore?”
“Like a dragon.”
“Liar.”
Ellie shrugged. “A cute dragon.”
You bumped her with your hip. “Thanks for… you know. Doing all this.”
She gave you a look. The you-don’t-have-to-thank-me-for-loving-you look. You’d gotten good at recognizing it. “I like mornings like this,” she said simply. “Even if they start with weird conspiracy theories.”
“Rude!” Sophie called.
“You’re too short to vote,” Ellie shot back.
Sophie grinned wickedly. “So are you!”
You choked on your orange juice.
Ellie looked personally attacked. “I am average height, thank you very much.”
“No you’re not,” Sophie said. “You’re small. But tall enough to make waffles. So you can stay.”
Ellie whispered to you, “Thank God. I was nervous.”
You smiled, leaned against her side, and let the warmth settle.
BY midday, the apartment had transformed again.
Gone were the scattered crayons and the sticky syrup plates from breakfast. The coloring books had been cleared, the glitter wiped from the table, and now, in their place stood something far greater. A museum.
Sophie had declared it around eleven a.m., full of conviction and without warning, as she lined up every single plastic dinosaur she owned across the floor.
“This is the entrance,” she explained, gesturing at a pillow with glitter glue stains. “And only people with imagination are allowed in.”
Ellie, standing beside you with a cup of coffee and her usual half-smile, nodded solemnly. “We barely qualify.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “No phones. No snacks. No shoes. And no boring facts.”
Ellie blinked. “Wait. What?”
“No boring facts,” Sophie repeated. “You’re the tour guide, so you can say fun things. But not, like, ‘blah blah, this dinosaur was alive in this year.’ That’s boring.”
Ellie shot you a helpless look, and you smiled innocently and flopped onto the couch. “I’m just here to observe.”
“Cool. Cool cool cool,” Ellie said, clapping her hands and clearing her throat dramatically. “Welcome to the World Famous Dinosaur Museum, curated by Sophie, the most powerful four-year-old paleontologist on Earth.”
Sophie gave a tiny approving nod.
Ellie walked up to the first toy. “Here we have… the mighty Ankylosaurus, also known as the living tank. This dude had a club for a tail and armor all over his back. Total unit.”
“Wrong,” Sophie interrupted.
Ellie froze. “Uh. What?”
Sophie crossed her arms. “That’s not an Ankylosaurus. That’s a Bumpy.”
“A… what?”
“Bumpy. From the show. She’s nice and has big eyes, and she doesn’t hit people with her tail unless they’re being rude.”
“Right,” Ellie said, clearing her throat. “Of course. Bumpy. Noted.” She moved on. “And here, we have the infamous Velociraptor, known for its sharp claws, high intelligence, and hunting in coordinated packs.”
Sophie raised her hand like a teacher’s assistant. “Actually… Velociraptors were smaller. Like chickens.”
Ellie blinked. “You’re four.”
Sophie shrugged. “I have books.”
You were openly laughing now, half-curled into the couch, watching your girlfriend slowly spiral. Ellie stared down at the toy dinosaur. “Sure. Whatever you say, kid. That’s definitely a... Dino-nugget.”
Sophie giggled. “It’s okay. I forget too sometimes.”
Ellie turned to you, defeated. “She’s smarter than me.”
You grinned. “I’m weirdly attracted to it.”
She smirked, cheeks pink, and whispered, “Yeah?”
“The flustered dino tour guide thing is working for you.” Then Ellie reached out to tickle your foot. “You’re too mean! Stop!”
You yelped and kicked gently at her shin. Sophie shouted, “No violence in my museum!” and Ellie immediately stood straight, arms behind her back like a soldier caught goofing off in formation. “Apologies, Dr. Sophie,” she said. “Won’t happen again.”
“Good,” Sophie said, spinning dramatically on one socked foot. “Now it’s snack time. All museum staff must report to the kitchen immediately.”
You followed them in, Ellie trailing after with her hands still behind her back, muttering, “I didn’t go to dinosaur jail just to be bossed around by a preschooler.”
The three of you were halfway through peanut butter toast and a chaotic cup of apple juice when your door buzzed.
Sophie didn’t even flinch. “It’s Daddy,” she said, mouth full.
You opened the door, and sure enough, your brother stood there, hair windswept and eyes a little tired. His face softened the second he saw Sophie run toward him.
“Hey, Soph!” he said, catching her mid-leap.
She immediately launched into a breathless retelling of the day. “We made pancakes and Ellie did my hair, and I told her about dinosaur ghosts, and we made a museum, and she got every dinosaur wrong, but it was okay because she tried really hard!”
Ellie, still behind you with crossed arms and a red face. Your brother looked between the two of you, the toy-covered floor, the messy table, the crayon drawing Sophie had taped to the wall that read “Ellie = Cool Aunt”, and put down the toddler.
“You’ve got her wrapped around your finger,” he said to Ellie, smiling softly. “Didn’t know Sophie ever let someone else be the boss.”
Ellie shrugged, suddenly shy. “I bribed her with waffles.”
Sophie looked up. “She’s my best friend now. Don’t be jealous.”
Your brother gave you a long look. Something quiet passed between you. You kissed Sophie’s forehead, ruffled her hair, and passed her Rexy.
She hugged Ellie’s leg tightly before leaving. “Bye, Ellie!”
“Bye, kiddo.” Ellie whispered back.
Then the door clicked shut, and the apartment felt... still. Not empty. Just quiet in the way it only was after a kid left. You turned to Ellie, who was still standing in the living room, arms folded, gazing at the now-empty dinosaur museum with a look that was almost… wistful.
“She really likes you,” you said gently, walking over to her.
Ellie didn’t speak right away. Just stared at the spot where Sophie had left her sock-caped Rexy perched on a pillow like he was still standing guard. Then, she exhaled softly through her nose and said, “You know what’s weird?”
“What?”
“She reminds me of you.”
You blinked. “Me?”
Ellie nodded, finally glancing over at you with a small, crooked smile. “Yeah. Bossy. Relentless. Too smart for her own good. Will bite if threatened.”
You snorted. “Oh my God.”
“I’m serious,” she said, grinning now. “She takes up space like she was born to, like she never learned how not to. You’re like that, too. You just… walk in and fill a room. And it makes it better. Brighter.”
“It’s why I fell in love with you, you know. The way you just… care. Loudly. Without apology.”
You took a step closer, touching her wrist. “I don’t always feel like I do it right.”
Ellie smiled, lacing your fingers together. “You don’t have to. You just have to do it like you.”
You stared at her for a second, heart thudding, then leaned up and kissed her slow. When you pulled back, she sighed happily. “So… museum’s closed for the day?”
You nodded. “But I hear there’s a private showing tonight. Just for dorks who are bad at braiding hair.”
Ellie smirked. “Perfect. I know a girl who fits the bill perfectly.”
And just like that, everything felt simple again. Not perfect. But real. And full of love.
Ellie having beef with a four-year-old makes so much sense to me lmao. I love them so much its unreal.
꩜ pairing: spiderman!ellie williams x female reader
꩜ warnings: explicit content, language
꩜ word count: 5.5k
꩜ synopsis: your campus crush is awkward, brilliant, and possibly allergic to eye contact. your city’s superhero is bold, brawny, and keeps saving your life. it takes a few close calls and some questionable physics to realise they’re the same girl—and she’s falling for you, too.
The first time Spider-Girl saves you, it's from a mugger in an alley behind the campus coffee shop. You're fumbling through your backpack for your pepper spray when she drops down like some extremely agile angel, all wisecracks and impossibly fluid movements.
"Hey there, citizen," she quips with her trademark enthusiasm, expertly knocking out the guy with a single punch. God, she’s always so extra on television. You didn’t think she’d be a hundred times worse in real life. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that walking alone at night is, like, really bad for your web of safety?"
You stare at her, dumbfounded, heart hammering from more than just the adrenaline. "Did you seriously just make a spider pun?"
"Maybe." Even through the mask, you can hear her intolerable grin. "You okay? No injuries? Emotional trauma? Sudden urge to take up martial arts?"
"I'm fine," you manage, though you're definitely not. She's hanging upside down now, her auburn hair falling in waves around her masked face, and something indescribable about her voice is making your stomach flip. You clutch your pepper spray tighter.
"Good. Great. Awesome," her extremely endearing stuttering doesn’t distract you from how delicious her biceps look in that top-notch suit of hers. "Um, you should probably get home. Soon. Don’t want to miss dinner. Most important meal of the day."
She swings away before you can thank her (or correct her on how the phrase is actually about breakfast), leaving you alone with your breathing irregular and a very inconvenient crush on a masked vigilante.
The second time is five days later, when a chunk of building facade decides to almost make friends with your head during the villain of the week’s rampage downtown. Spider-Girl appears out of nowhere, scooping you up in arms that are surprisingly stronger than anticipated (not that you’ve been thinking about her arms, haha, no way) and swinging you to protection on a nearby rooftop.
"We've got to stop meeting like this," she pants, setting you down gently. "People are gonna talk."
"Are you following me?" you gape at her, brushing dust from your jacket.
"What? No! That's—that's crazy talk. I'm a hero. Heroes don’t follow. They heroically arrive. At coincidental moments."
You purse your lips, evidently skeptical, "Right. Coincidental."
"Very coincidental. Cosmically coincidental, even. The universe is just really invested in us meeting, apparently."
While she goes off on a tangent about something too philosophical for your understanding, you’re more focused on scrutinising her mannerisms. There's something eerily familiar about the way she gestures, all animated hands and panicky grace, but you can't seem to place it. You table your suspicions for another time. That is, if there is another time.
And, oh boy, there is.
You're walking home from a last-minute convenience store visit when a car runs a red light, heading straight for you. It’s downright ridiculous. At this point, you’re convinced that you’re undeniably cursed. Before you can ponder over the pros and cons of becoming roadkill versus finally escaping the group project from hell, a blur of red and blue tackles you to the pavement, and suddenly you're staring up at the sky wondering if you've died.
For a moment, you're pressed chest to chest with Spider-Girl, her masked face inches from yours. You can feel her heaving, quick and shallow.
"Okay," you whisper. "Now I’m certain you're following me."
"I—" she scrambles backward, nearly tripping over her own feet. "It's not what it looks like!"
You shake your head, trying to gain sense of your surroundings, "It looks like you're stalking me."
"I prefer 'keeping tabs on.' For very legitimate reasons."
You let out a disbelieving laugh, studying her, "What's your name?"
"Girl, do you have a concussion?”
"Your real name, smartass."
She freezes, her frantic spiraling reaching an abrupt halt, "Come on, gorgeous. It’s not so simple. That's classified information."
"Of course," you stand with a defeated sigh, running a hand through your hair and trying not to fixate on how she chose to refer to you (gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous). "Well, thanks for the save. Maybe next time you could text me when there's danger instead of lurking like a weirdo?"
You're halfway down the block when you hear her call out: "I don't have your number!" You turn back, grinning, "I guess you'll have to ask for it like a normal person!"
The girl in your Advanced Calculus class is strange.
Not bad strange—sort of a cute strange, truly. She showed up six weeks into the semester, all quiet and nervous twitching, taking the only empty seat right next to you. She has freckles scattered across her nose and the greenest eyes you've ever seen, and she fidgets constantly, like she's got too much energy for her own skin.
"Ellie," she'd introduced herself on her first day, awkwardly extending a hand that was covered in small scars and calluses. "Williams."
"Nice to meet you," you'd replied, and something about her crooked smile made your chest tight.
She's brilliant in class—when she shows up, of course. Professor Martinez assigns a problem set on differential equations and Ellie solves them with an elegance that makes everyone lean forward to so much as catch a glimpse of her work. But she has her quirks like not making eye contact while explaining her solutions, and doodling in the margins of her notebooks—intricate patterns that look too similar to webs, you suppose.
Also, she stares at you. A lot.
"Earth to Ellie," you mutter during a particularly boring lecture on integration techniques. She's been gazing at you for the past five minutes, completely obvious about it.
She startles, knocking over her water bottle. "Shit, sorry. I wasn't—"
You stifle a laugh, "Staring at me?" Her face goes pink, about ready to burst if she could, "I was thinking about derivatives. Pretty intensely."
"Uh-huh, here," you hand her some napkins from your bag, helping salvage her soaked notes. "What's your take on the fundamental theorem of calculus, then?"
"It's... fundamental," she says, then grimaces when she seems to realise how that sounds. "I mean, it's inherently elegant. The way it connects differentiation and integration like two sides of the same coin."
You're impressed despite yourself, "Not many would choose to explain it that way, but it’s a fitting analogy."
"Thanks." She plays around with her pen and you wonder how someone’s fingers could be so long and slender and—
Oh my fucking god, please stop.
You snap out of your thoughts to come face-to-face with Ellie rambling, too engrossed in what she’s saying to notice how your neck is embarrassingly flushed. "I'm good with connections. How things relate to each other."
As if summoned by her words, her phone vibrates with what sounds like a notification. She glances at it offhandedly and her whole body goes tense.
"I-I have to—bathroom—emergency—" she's already gathering her things, moving with surprising dexterity despite her apparent alarm. At first, you can only blink at the sudden shift, thinking it's some kind of elaborate excuse or a joke you’re not in on. But she's already weaving through chairs, clutching her bag like a lifeline.
By the time you lurch to your feet, she's vanished around the corner, leaving behind only the ghost of her perfume and a rapidly cooling seat. Twenty minutes later, news alerts start buzzing about Spider-Girl stopping a large-scale robbery across town.
You start paying attention after that. Really paying attention.
From your elaborate observations, you’ve concluded the following: Ellie disappears from class every time there's a Spider-Girl sighting. She shows up the next day with new bruises she claims are from "aggressive skateboarding" or "really competitive rock climbing." Who does she think she’s trying to fool? Moreover, she knows too much about physics and momentum for someone who supposedly just likes math.
"Want to study together?" you nonchalantly ask one Thursday under the guise of Professor Kim sending out a particularly brutal assignment. In actuality, you were on the prowl for some hardcore evidence to back your hypothesis. "The library has those group study rooms."
Ellie's eyes light up, caught off guard by the offer, "Yeah, yes! Absolutely. I mean, if you want. I'm probably not that helpful, but—"
A pointed stare from you shuts Ellie up, "You're literally the smartest person in our class."
A sheepish smile is all you get in response. The study session is a disaster and the best three hours of your week simultaneously.
Ellie is smart, walking you through complex equations with a patience that makes you genuinely grateful to have her by your side, but she's also the most distractible person you've ever met. Her phone buzzes constantly—emergency alerts, news notifications, text messages that make her face go pale.
"Popular girl," you can’t stop yourself from teasing after the seventh interruption.
"Not really. Uh, I volunteer with this community safety thing. Neighborhood watch type deal."
"Neighborhood watch?"
"Mhm, very active neighborhood watch."
She's helping you with a particularly tricky problem, leaning close enough that you can smell her shampoo, when her phone starts borderline shrieking with alerts.
"Shit," she mutters, grabbing it, looking beyond apologetic. "I have to—"
"Go," you say, even though you're disappointed. "Your neighborhood watch thing?"
"Yeah. Last-minute emergency... watching."
She's halfway to the door when she turns back. "Can we do this again? The studying, I mean. Not the emergency part."
You try to bite back a more than pleased smile. You’re not successful. "I'd like that."
After she leaves, you sit in the empty study room for a while, thinking about the way she explained vector calculus like it was poetry, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about complex theorems, the way she looked at you like you were the most interesting equation she'd ever encountered.
Until reality punches all of the air out of your lungs: "Spider-Girl Saves Civilians Trapped in Terrible Industrial Fire."
The realisation hits you during the next class.
Professor Kim is explaining the mechanism behind projectile motion, and Ellie is taking notes with the intensity of someone who needs to understand exactly how objects move through three-dimensional space. Which is apt, you guess.
"The trajectory of any projectile can be calculated using these equations," Professor Kim drawls, writing on the board. "Accounting for initial velocity, angle of projection, and gravitational acceleration..."
Ellie's pen moves across her notebook, but she's not just copying the equations, you notice. She's modifying them, adding variables, and sketching what looks like trajectory paths between buildings.
Huh, that’s interesting.
"Miss Williams," Professor Kim’s voice booms throughout the hall, "could you share your perspective regarding the topic at hand?"
Ellie looks up, startled. "Oh. I-I was just thinking about how you'd need to account for air resistance in real-world applications. And wind patterns. And if you were, I don’t know, swinging between buildings, you'd need to calculate the optimal release point to maintain momentum while accounting for the pendulum effect of the swing itself."
It’s dead silent. You raise an eyebrow. The class stares at her.
Professor Kim clears her throat, "That's a good question. Yet very specific, Miss Williams."
"I just think about practicality," Ellie mutters weakly.
After class, you corner her in the hallway, determination oozing from the way you stride over to her. "Swinging between buildings?" you ask.
Ellie can barely hold it together, itching with the need to be anywhere but in front of you. "Hypothetically."
"Hypothetically," you echo, studying her face. "You know, I've been thinking about patterns lately, since our conversation. Like how Spider-Girl always seems to show up right after you disappear from class."
Ellie goes very still. "That's... cool."
"Is it? Because I've been doing some math of my own. The timing, the locations, the way you know exactly how web-swinging would work from a physics perspective."
"Funny story, I’m… ah… writing a research paper on Spider-Girl’s abilities—"
"You have the same voice as a certain superhero who's saved my life three times."
Her face goes pale. She opens and closes her mouth, unable to devise an escape plan. And she has tons of experience in those. "I can explain."
You lean closer, lowering your voice, "Can you? Because I'm starting to think my study partner is also the girl who's been stalking me from rooftops."
"I haven't been stalking you!" she protests, then catches herself. "I mean, I don't know what you're talking about."
You tilt your head, close enough to see the panic in her green eyes. "Prove it."
"How?"
"Kiss me."
"What?"
"If you're not Spider-Girl, then kissing me shouldn't be a problem. But if you are..." you let the sentence hang, your own pulse skyrocketing.
Ellie stares at you, bewilderment painting her features. "That's not—that doesn't prove anything."
"Doesn't it? Because I'm pretty sure Spider-Girl has been wanting to kiss me for weeks. The question is whether Ellie Williams wants to kiss me too."
The words tumble out before you can second-guess them—bold, reckless, and so unlike you. But for once, you don’t care. The hallway is empty, most students having fled to their next classes. Ellie looks around desperately, like she still believes that she can scheme her way out of this.
"I—" she starts, then ultimately stops. Her shoulders slump. "Fuck."
"Is that a confession?"
"It's an acknowledgment that I'm terrible at this secret identity thing."
You grin, pleased with yourself, "So you are Spider-Girl."
"Yeah." She runs a hand through her hair. "And I've been going crazy trying to keep away from you while also making sure you're safe, and I think I'm falling for you but I can't tell if it's because I'm Spider-Girl or because I'm Ellie, and—"
You kiss her.
It’s soft, at first, almost hesitant, but it lands with the quiet certainty of something long overdue. Her words die against your lips, a half-formed thought swallowed by the warmth of your mouth on hers. She lets out a soft, taken aback sound, something between a gasp and a sigh, and then she’s kissing you back like it’s instinct, like she’s been waiting for this as long as you have.
Her hands rise to cradle your face, fingers trembling just slightly as they settle against your cheeks. She leans into you, melts, and the world narrows down to the press of her body against yours and the wild, thunderous beat of your heart.
When you finally pull back—breathless and stunned—she doesn’t say anything. Just stares at you with wide, shining eyes like she’s seeing something brand new.
Like she’s never wanted anything more.
"Both," you whisper. "You asked if you're falling for me as Spider-Girl or as Ellie. For me, it's both. I'm falling for both of you."
Her smile, the brightest you’ve ever seen, could power the entire campus. "Really?"
"Really. Though I have to say, your secret identity skills need work."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm getting that." She ducks her head, but not before you catch the rising blush, equal parts pride and bashfulness. You’re not sure if it’s the jab, the kiss, or just you that’s got her blushing like that, but whatever it is, you want to see it again.
"We should probably talk about this somewhere more private," you say, glancing around the empty hallway.
"My apartment?" Ellie suggests, then immediately looks panicked. "If you want. For talking. Just talking. Very innocent talking."
You laugh, carefree, watching the panic bloom across her face like she’s just proposed something scandalous instead of, quite frankly, simply suggesting. It’s cute—dangerously cute—and a spark of amusement curls in your chest. "Ellie."
"Yeah?"
"It’s alright. I'm not going anywhere."
Her apartment is small and cluttered, textbooks scattered across every surface, equations scrawled on sticky notes stuck to the walls. Such a nerd, you think to yourself with barely controlled lust. There's a familiar suit hanging in the closet, and you stare in awe.
"So," you begin, settling on her couch. "How long?"
"About a year. There was this lab accident—" she sits beside you, close enough that your knees touch. "Radioactive spider. Very original, I know."
"And you've been doing the superhero thing since then?"
"Someone has to. The city's not exactly overflowing with good-natured people."
You drink in her face, taking in the small scar on her cheekbone, the way her eyes are alight with something unfamiliar. "Are you okay with this? Me knowing?"
"Terrified," her eyes widen a little, like she hadn’t expected you to ask. Like the idea that someone would care enough to check in hadn’t fully occurred to her. The tension in her shoulders eases, just barely, and when she speaks, her voice is softer. "But also... relieved? I've been wanting to tell you for weeks."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because people I care about get hurt. It's like a rule or something," her nails scratch at her skin anxiously. "And I care about you. A lot."
It slams into you—her honesty, raw and unguarded—and you have to swallow the rush of feeling that follows. You’ve waited so long for this, for her. Now, she’s here, and you don’t trust yourself to breathe too loudly in case the moment shatters. "How much?"
She looks at you then and the intensity in her gaze makes you forget how to function. "Enough that I've been taking patrol routes past your apartment building to make sure you get home safe. Enough that I nearly blew my cover multiple times because I couldn't stand the thought of you getting hurt. Enough that I've been falling asleep thinking about you and waking up wishing I could tell you everything."
Your lips quiver, "Ellie..."
"I know it's crazy. I know I've been lying to you, and that dating me comes with risks you never signed up for. I know you think I'm some kind of stalker. Fuck, I am—"
You kiss her again, slower this time, like you're trying to commit the way she tastes, the way she feels under your hands to memory. Her fingers tighten at your waist, tentative at first, then surer, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. You can clearly tell that she’s been waiting for some semblance of permission to want this as much as she does. She tilts her head, deepening the kiss with a quiet groan that makes your knees go a little weak.
It’s not a confession. It’s a surrender. A promise that neither of you quite knows how to verbalise so soon.
"I don't think you're a stalker," you mumble against her lips. "I think you're extremely awesome. And hot. And selfless."
Ellie chuckles, "And?"
"And I think I'm completely gone for you."
She pulls back to meet your eyes. "Both versions of me?"
"All versions of you. The hero, the student, the girl who makes terrible spider puns and gets flustered when I catch her staring."
"I do not get flustered."
"You look like a tomato right now."
"That's unrelated."
You throw your head back, and she grins, that same, crooked smile that's been driving you crazy for weeks. "I love your laugh," she appreciates softly.
"I love your brain. The way you see patterns in everything, the way you explained all of those formulae like they were beautiful instead of impossible."
"They are beautiful. Math is, like, the language the world uses to describe itself."
"See? That. That's what I'm talking about."
She shifts closer, her forehead resting against yours. "What happens now?"
"Now you stop trying to protect me from a distance and let me be part of your life. The real part."
"It's dangerous."
"So is crossing the street. So is falling in love with someone," you trace the line of her jaw with your fingertip. "I'm not asking you to stop being Spider-Girl. I'm asking you to trust me enough to let me choose to be with you anyway."
She's quiet for a moment, and you can see her calculating probabilities, a deep furrow set in her brows. Finally, she utters, "I've never had anyone who knew. About me, I mean. All of me."
You nod in understanding, "How does it feel?"
"Scary. Amazing. Like I can finally relax."
"Good,” you smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Because I plan on knowing you for a very long time."
"Show me," you say later, when you're curled up together on her couch, her arms around you and her chin resting on your shoulder.
"Show you what?"
"The Spider-Girl stuff. I want to see how it works."
She tenses slightly. "Are you sure? It's kind of intense."
"Ellie. I've been dreaming about this for weeks."
She's deeply amused for a moment, then she gently untangles herself from you and stands. "Okay. But if it freaks you out—"
"It won't."
She moves to the window, and you watch as she seems to almost, in a way, transform. Her posture changes, becomes more fluid, more confident. She presses her palm against the glass, and you see her fingers stick to the surface without any effort.
"Holy shit," you gawk.
"That's not even the cool part." She grins, extending her wrist. There's a soft thwip sound, and you jump back as a strand of webbing shoots out, sticking to the opposite wall. "Web-shooters. My own design."
"Can I...?"
"Touch them? Sure," she comes back to the couch, holding out her wrist. The device is sleek and mechanical, clearly homemade but extraordinarily sophisticated.
You run your fingers over the metal, marveling at the craftsmanship, "You built this?"
"Built, tested, redesigned about fifty times. Turns out web-slinging is more complicated than it looks."
"This is incredible. You're incredible."
She rubs the back of her neck, "It's just engineering."
"It's genius-level engineering that you did in your spare time while maintaining an impeccable GPA."
"My GPA is not impeccable—"
"Ellie," you look at her seriously. "You're amazing. Not just as Spider-Girl, but as you. The fact that you use your intelligence to help people, that you built all this to make the world safer... it's the most attractive thing I've ever seen."
She stares at you for a moment, then she's pressing her lips to yours, urgent and hungry. You respond immediately, your hands fisting in her flannel shirt as she guides you back against the couch cushions.
"I've wanted to do this for so long," she barely contains her whimper. "Every time I saved you, every time you smiled at me in class, every time you caught me staring..."
"I was hoping you'd stare," you admit, biting your lower lip. "I've been trying to get your attention for weeks."
"You always had my attention," her fingers trace the skin just above your waistband, and you shiver. "From the first day you sat next to me in class, I couldn't think about anything else."
"Then why didn't you say anything?"
"Because girls like you don't usually go for awkward nerds."
You giggle, bringing her face back to yours for another kiss. "This girl does."
"Yeah?"
"Hell, yeah," you tug at her shirt, suddenly desperate to feel more of her.
She helps you pull her flannel off, revealing a simple black tank top underneath. There are more scars here, small ones scattered across her arms and shoulders—evidence of her other life.
"Do they hurt?" you ask, tracing one with your fingertip.
"Not anymore. I heal fast now."
You lean up to kiss the scar on her collarbone. "I don't like the idea of you being hurt."
"I'm careful."
"You throw yourself off buildings for a living."
"I'm strategically careful."
You're about to respond when she kisses your neck, and whatever you were going to say dissolves into a soft moan. She's good at this, all careful attention and gentle pressure, like she's been thinking about exactly how to touch you.
"Ellie," you whisper, and she responds by trailing kisses down your neck.
"I love the way you say my name," she whispers against your skin. "Both when you're annoyed with me in class and when you're like this."
"Like what?"
"Desperate. Wanting me."
"I do want you," you thread your fingers through her hair, tugging gently until she looks at you. "I want all of you."
Something shifts in her expression, heat darkening her eyes. "All of me?"
Instead of answering, you flip your positions, pushing her back against the couch and settling yourself astride her lap. Her hands immediately find your waist, fingers digging in like she's afraid you'll disappear.
"Hi," you say softly.
"Hi yourself," her voice is rougher now, her breathing uneven. "This is... this is really happening?"
"Unless you want to stop."
"Fuck no," she sits up, bringing your faces level. "I just... I've imagined this so many times, but I never thought..."
"What?"
"I never thought you'd want me back."
You cup her face in your hands, thumb brushing over her cheek. "Ellie Williams, I've been hopelessly crushing on you since the first time you rambled about one of your silly interests. Finding out you're also the badass superhero who's been saving my life is just a sexy bonus."
She laughs, light and surprised. "Sexy?"
"Very sexy. The competence, the confidence, the way you move like you know exactly what your body can do," you roll your hips cheekily, and her grip on your waist tightens frenziedly. "It's incredibly hot."
"Oh."
"Tongue-tied?"
"Shut up," she says, but she's grinning as she pulls you down.
This time when your lips meet, it's different. Needy. Her hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing just under your ribs, and you arch into the touch with a sound that makes her eyelashes flutter.
"Is this okay?" she asks, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.
"More than okay."
She helps you pull it off, and for a moment she just stares, dumbfounded. "You're so beautiful," she licks her lips, and the reverence in her voice astounds you.
"So are you,” you drag her into another makeout, rougher this time. She meets you halfway as you both start to move—slow, desperate grinding that leaves no room for doubt. Her thigh slots between yours, and the friction pulls a breathy curse from your lips.
Ellie’s hands are everywhere, the curve of your back, your shoulders, the line of your throat. She mouths at your chest through your bra, tongue dragging over the fabric until your head tips back and a shaky moan escapes you. She hums against you like she’s proud of your reaction and you’re already giving in, her name slipping like a prayer.
You pull back to meet her eyes. "I need you, Ellie."
Something in her expression shatters—restraint, maybe, or whatever thread of self-control she was still clinging to. Her jaw tightens like she’s trying to hold herself back and failing spectacularly. She exhales sharply through her nose, then grabs your hips with both hands, grinding up against you like she can’t stand even an inch of space.
“Fuck,” she mutters, like the word is forcibly ripped out of her. “Say that again.”
“O-oh,” you gasp at the delicious movement, clutching onto her helplessly. “N-need you, Els. Please.”
She stands without warning, lifting you with her, and you wrap your legs around her waist. The casual display of strength makes heat pool in your stomach.
"Show off," you tease.
"You like it."
"Wrong. I love it."
Her bedroom is small and messy like the rest of her apartment, but you don’t mind. She sets you down gently beside the bed, her hands immediately finding your waist again.
"Are you sure about this?" she asks, and there's a fond vulnerability in her voice.
"Ellie," you step closer, pecking the tip of her nose. "I'm sure about you.”
"I’m sure about you too," she smiles, and then she's walking you backward until your legs hit the mattress.
You fall together, a jumble of limbs and fast kisses and hands that can't stop touching. She's careful with you, gentle despite the strength you know she possesses, and something about that contrast—the deadly superhero being so tender with you—makes you feel cherished in a way you've never experienced.
"I want to make you feel good," she moans against your ear, and it sends shivers down your spine. "Will you let me make you feel good, baby?"
"E-Ellie," you can only manage to stammer, and she smirks deviously against your neck.
"Just like that."
Ellie doesn’t hesitate. Her hand slips beneath your waistband, knuckles brushing your skin as she works her way into your pants and under your panties. The first drag of her fingers through your slick makes both of you gasp—you at the contact, her at the way you’re already soaking for her.
“Jesus,” she remarks, almost in devotion, before slipping two fingers inside you, slow but unrelenting. Your hands dig into her shoulders, hips rolling up to meet each thrust, and she finds a rhythm that makes your head spin. Her palm presses snug against your clit, every movement measured and devastating.
"You're so responsive," she murmurs, pressing kisses down your throat. "So perfect."
"Not perfect," your reply is strained, hard to think with her touching you like this.
"Perfect for me."
When her lips follow the path her hands have traced, you're already trembling. She takes her time, building you up carefully, until you're writhing beneath her.
"Please," you beg for the second time that day, and she looks up at you with her insatiable, lidded gaze.
"Please what?"
"Please don't stop."
"Never," she swears, and then she's making good on it, using her mouth and hands to take you apart piece by piece.
She sinks to her knees like it's second nature, tugging your pants down completely with an urgency that makes you shy away. Her mouth is on you almost instantly, tongue parting you with aching precision, and the first slow lick is both torture and life-changing. Her hands grip your thighs firmly, anchoring you in place, as if daring you to pull away.
Not that you would, not when her mouth is right there, focused solely on your dripping cunt.
She moans against you like she’s the one being eaten out, the sound sending vibrations straight through your core, and you choke out a gasp. One hand trails from your thigh to slip two fingers inside you, easy from how wet you already are, and the combination of her mouth and the rhythmic movement of her fingers is devastating. She fucks you with purpose, stroking that perfect spot over and over as her lips wrap around your clit and suck.
Your hands find her hair, threading through it with desperation as you grind helplessly against her face, barely coherent.
“Mmm, yeah, good girl. There you go. Use me however you want.”
Your eyes roll back at her words.
The tension coils tighter and tighter, until it snaps all at once—a blinding rush of pleasure that leaves your vision white at the edges as your body bucks against her, undone completely.
She doesn’t stop until you’re gasping, overstimulated and twitching. Until you're crying out her name and seeing stars. Afterward, she holds you close, pressing soft kisses to your temple while you catch your breath.
"Okay?" she asks quietly.
"More than okay," you move in her arms, meeting her eyes. "Your turn."
"You don't have to—"
"I want to," you reassure her softly. "I want to make you fall apart the way you just did to me."
Her face contorts into something akin to burning desire and you grin as you begin to return the favour, taking your time to explore every inch of her skin, to learn what makes her gasp and moan and whisper.
She's beautiful like this, her usual composure completely gone. When she finally climaxes, it's with your name on her tongue and her hands tangled in your hair.
You collapse together afterward, sweaty and satisfied and completely content. She pulls a blanket over both of you, and you snuggle into her side, your head on her chest.
"Hmm," you sigh eventually, tracing lazy patterns on her skin. "This is nice."
"Nice?" she laughs, the sound vibrating through her chest. "I pour my heart out, reveal my secret identity, and give you the best orgasm of your life, and you call it 'nice'?"
"Best orgasm of my life? Someone’s cocky."
"Was it not?"
You grin, leaning up to kiss her chin. "It was incredible. You're incredible."
She tightens her hold around you. "I plan on doing that a lot more, just so you know."
"I’m counting on it."
You lie there in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying the feeling of being close to her. Eventually, though, a bunch of doubts and concerns start to creep in like phantoms in the night.
"What happens now?" you ask timidly.
"Now we figure it out as we go," she presses her face into your hair, inhaling deeply. "Together."
"Together," you agree after a few beats of silence, and you can't think of anything that sounds more meant to be.
Outside the window, the city hums with its usual evening hustle and bustle. Somewhere out there, people are going to need Spider-Girl's help. But for now, she's exactly where she belongs—in bed with you, planning a future that includes both sides of who she is.
And you can't wait to see what comes next.
Beverly Brands @bluvividdaze - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
