odessa mae @elswlsbaby - Tumblr Blog

okay so i’ve been thinking (never a good thing) and i’m thinking about how utterly obsessed i would be (and hopefully other too) would be with a ellie williams fanfic. i could just end it there, but what if their characters where a bit like Eddie Munson and Chrissy from Stranger things? like Ellie is a total and complete dnd nerd, likes rock music and has tattoos and shit, while reader/yn is like a shy, nice cheerleader, like kinda popular but not skanky just like sweet and existing. literal plot master frrrr

if you thinking this is a bad thing… don’t ever be good lmao

so sorry this took forever :/ hope you enjoy queen <3

room B217

loser! ellie x cheerleader! reader

summary: wednesdays. room b217. and dnd. you’re a cheerleader; pretty, preppy, and popular. ellie’s dnd nerd, certified loser, and has a defensive attitude. when your paths cross unexpectedly and you’re both inexplicably drawn to each other… alcohol broadens both your horizons…

warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, ellie’s/ reader parents suck, abby readers bff and is rude asf, drunken antics, peer pressure?, fingering (r! recieving), oral sex (e! recieving), slight sub reader.

sorry i SUCKED at making reader shy.

ellie pov is blue

monday

the gym still smells like hairspray and rubber mats by the time you’re leaving. your ears are ringing from consistent shouting— five, six, seven, eight… over and over until the numbers mean nothing. your smile is still stuck in place, even though no one is watching. it’s automatic.

you wave goodbye to the girls, promising to text them about the party after friday’s game, and laughing at something you don’t actually hear. as soon as you turn the corner, your face falls.

the hallway is quiet, conversations muffled from the distance you’ve put between yourself and your teammates. you don’t even remember deciding to not go to your dorm room; your body just turns left instead of right after you leave the gym.

your ponytail is too tight, the glitter on your eyelids is beginning to itch— you need five minutes where no one is looking at you.

the science wing is normally dead this time of day; after 4th period the only people who linger down here are students skipping class and professors looking for silence. you pass the flickering light that hasn’t been replaced since your freshman year, and push open the door to room B217.

the room smells like dry erase markers and dust. the blinds are half drawn and late afternoon light spills in warm and soft. you freeze when the presence of someone else catches you off guard.

ellie williams sits on top of a desk, converse resting on a chair, headphones around her neck, a beat up notebook open in her lap. her fingers are smudged with charcoal and pencil lead; a sketch of something monsterous taking form on the page— horns, wings, and too many teeth.

she looks up when the door clicks shut; eyes sharp, guarded, and a mesmerizing green you’ve never noticed before. for half a second, you both just stare.

“sorry, i uh… thought this room was empty.”

she looks back down at her notebook, pencil scratching against the page again, “it usually is.”

somehow, that feels territorial.

you’re about to turn back around, open the door, and find another classroom to sulk in— not wanting to invade her space. but ellie questions you.

“you ditching practice or something?”

you look down at your uniform, adjusting the strap of your bag before shaking your head, “no, i just… i didn’t wanna go home yet.”

she nods slow, seemingly uninterested, “heard.”

you’re still standing by the door, and for some reason— you don’t leave.

you shift your weight, then step further inside; the sketch in her notebook catching your attention.

“do you always hang out in the back of science labs after class?” your voice is casual, light.

ellie doesn’t look up, “only on weekdays that end in ‘y’.”

you huff a quiet breath, almost a laugh. “okay… but why here?”

her pencil pauses and she finally looks up for longer than a few seconds; like she’s trying to decide how much effort you’re worth. “dnd.”

you blink, “what’s that?”

she squints at you immediately, “you’re kidding.”

you shake your head, “no…”

“like… genuinely?”

“yes?”

there’s a long beat of silence where she studies your face, searching for sarcasm. for a punchline. for the moment your friends jump out and start laughing.

but it never comes.

her shoulders droop a fraction, she debates on lying. “it’s—“she gestures vaguely with her pencil. “a tabletop role-playing game.”

you wait for her to continue, she waits for you to look bored. when you don’t, she exhales through her nose.

“you make characters. tell a story. there’s dice. you fight monsters. save villages. whatever.” there’s an edge to her tone. it’s defensive. like she’s already bracing for your rejection.

“that sounds interesting.”

her expression snaps back to suspicion. “it’s not like,” she waves hand at your uniform. “a pep rally.”

you glance down at your skirt and raise a brow. “i never said it was.”

silence.

you walk a little closer now, leaning against the lab table across from her, close enough to see the details of the creature she’s drawing.

it’s actually good.

“you come here to play?”

“on wednesdays, yeah.”

“with…?”

“other nerds.”

she says it before you can— she’s claiming the word before you can weaponize it.

you just nod, voice still sweet as ever, “okay.”

she snorts, “okay?”

you giggle quietly, “yeah… okay. sounds cool.”

ellie lets out a short, incredulous scoff, “you aren’t very good at this.”

your brows furrow, “at what?”

“making fun of me.”

your face falls, “why would you think i’m trying to?”

she shrugs, turning her attention back to her notebook, even though she’s not really drawing anymore.

and you aren’t really sure why you care… you’ve passed her on campus like a hundred times; noticed her band tees, chipped nail polish, torn up converse.

but there’s something about her that feels… unapologetically real. and it makes your chest stir.

“are you actually interested? or are you fucking with me?” her question catches you off guard.

you hesitate, surprised. “i am… interested.”

her eyes scan your face like she’s solving a puzzle, “you don’t look like the type.”

you lift a shoulder, “you don’t look like the type to judge.”

she snorts louder, “oh— i judge.”

you smile, soft and small, “i guess… sometimes we all do.”

ellie has no chance reply before the door swings open without warning.

“yo, williams—“

a taller, dark-haired boy steps in, backpack slung loose over one shoulder, hair tied back at the nape of his neck; he stops short when he sees you.

his eyebrows shoot up, “oh?”

ellie’s entire posture shifts— her shoulders square, walls sliding back up. “jesse.” she says flatly.

he looks between the two of you, mentally recalibrating. “uh… hi?” it comes out unsure, like he doesn’t know whether or not he should actually speak to you. “y/n? right?”

you nod politely, “yeah, hi.”

there’s a beat of awkward silence. jesse looks at ellie again, and there’s something on his face that resembles impression. “i didn’t know we were expanding the club demographic.”

ellie rolls her eyes, “shut up.”

you feel heat creep up your neck, “i was just leaving actually…” you say quickly.

the five minutes ‘to yourself’ are definitely up now.

ellie looks at you for a second like she might say something else, like maybe she’ll stop you.

all that follows is, “see you around.”

“yeah…” you smile, “see you.”

jesse watches you walk out like he’s witnessing a rare planetary alignment. silence swallowing the room until the door closes behind you.

your footsteps echo as you walk through the halls, your ponytail swinging side to side. you had hoped you’d feel calm, more relaxed after slipping away from all the noise. but your mind keeps rewinding.

you tell yourself it’s nothing. just one conversation. you talk to people all the time. but your thoughts don’t seem to care.

messy red hair falling into front of her eyes, tattoos peeking out from beneath her battered denim jacket, rings lining her fingers. she didn’t try to impress you. she didn’t soften herself. she was guarded and a little defensive.

you reach the stairwell and pause; your phone buzzing relentlessly in your jacket pocket. the girls are asking about friday’s game, outfit options for the after party, and who is hosting. you tap a few quick replies without fully reading the messages, your thumbs moving automatically.

you lean against the railing, it’s quiet other than the faint hum of the vending machine on the first floor. you take a deep breath that doesn’t calm anything and shake your head trying to dislodge invasive thoughts of the disheveled girl down the hall.

wednesdays. room B217. dnd.

back in room B217, jesse hasn’t stopped staring at ellie— arms crossed, eyebrows lifted high. “that was interesting…”

ellie narrows her eyes at him, irritation flickering across her face, “interesting how?”

“come on. you know what i mean. the cheerleader? the nice, pretty one? you actually spoke to her?”

ellie shakes her head, closing her sketchbook and shoving it into her backpack, “don’t start.”

jesse leans closer, smug and teasing, “she likes girls you know…”

ellie stills, not dramatically, but obvious enough. “what?”

jesse shrugs like it’s common knowledge. “yeah, she dated that one girl from the swim team sophomore year. didn’t exactly hide it.”

ellie recoils, “why do you know that?”

“i have ears. and other friends. i’m also not blind?”

“wow…” ellie doesn’t really know what else to say. there’s a beat of silence, jesse’s looking at her expectantly. “what?”

“nothing. you were just looking at her like she just crit-hit you.”

ellie scoffs, “i was not.”

“dude…”

ellie stands up, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “she asked about dnd. that’s it. she’s probably gonna go tell her friends about freak club later.”

“that’s not what it looked like when i walked in.”

ellie crosses her arms, growing frustrated, “then, what did it look like to you jesse?”

a smirk spreads slowly across his lips. “like flirting.”

she pushes past him, heading towards the door. “she was just being nice.”

jesse follows close behind, still nagging, “or maybe she was interested…”

she snorts, “right. the pretty cheerleader interested in the loser freak. let’s be realistic jesse.”

“i am being realistic!”

ellie turns and faces him, stopping in the doorway, “she talks to everyone. that’s like… her thing. she’s nice. it doesn’t mean anything.”

he studies he for a moment, then shrugs, “alright, fine. okay…”

but the way it rolls off his tongue, ellie knows he doesn’t believe her.

wednesday

you don’t intentionally think about ellie for 2 days; you really don’t. but it doesn’t matter what ways you try to distract yourself, your mind drifts back to wednesdays. room B217. dnd.

it’s the little things, like passing the science wing between classes and slowing down without meaning to. hearing someone say, ‘see you wednesday’, and feeling your stomach dip before you even register why.

it’s just curiousity. that’s all. you’re allowed to be curious.

you just aren’t sure if it’s actually about dnd, or the girl who told you about it.

by the time practice ends, your legs feel like they’re made of rubber and your throat is raw from calling counts. the music looping for 2 hours straight— you can still hear ‘five, six, seven, eight’ echoing somewhere in your skull.

the girls crowd around you in the locker room; steam from the showers fogs up the mirror, metal locker doors slam, conversations overlap, and perfume hangs thick in the air.

leah is sitting on the bench in front of you unlacing her sneakers, “okay so… friday. after party at my house is officially off the table. my mom’s hosting that weird wine night thing this month.”

“again?” abby groans from across the room. “how the hell does she even have friends?”

leah throws a sock at her.

you turn around laughing and lean against your locker, “so who else is volunteering?”

mel, who’s standing at the sinks applying lipgloss, chimes in. “owen said his parents are gone for the weekend—“ she says wiggling her eyebrows, “but that could be a set-up.”

“that’s definitely a set-up.” abby replies. “he lives in a townhouse. we’d get shut down in less than 20 minutes.”

all eyes turn towards you automatically.

because you have the biggest dorm room on campus; corner unit, high ceilings, and the only one without a roommate due to housing glitch that was never corrected. but you hate hosting.

the setup. the cleanup. the everything in between.

you already know what they’re thinking.

leah tilts her head sweetly, “y/n…”

“no.” you don’t even let her finish.

abby laughs, “you didn’t even hear the pitch.”

“i don’t need to.” you push off your locker and grab your water bottle, “you guys treat my room like a public venue.”

leah groans, throwing her head back. “that is so dramatic, y/n.”

“is it?” you press. “someone dropped a half-eaten crunchwrap behind my dresser last time.”

mel turns around quickly, tucking her lip gloss back into her bag, “hey… i was really drunk. that is not fair.”

you snort, “girl… by the time i found it? there were things growing out of it.”

a horrified gasp ripples through the room.

nora finally joins the conversation, walking in with wet hair, a half-zipped hoodie, and a fresh pair of leggings on. “to be fair… me and manny looked for that crunchwrap for 45 minutes.”

you stare at her, “45? as in forty and then five more?”

“yes! i swear! we retraced our steps, we checked the kitchen. the bathroom. the balcony.”

“you didn’t check behind my dresser.” you deadpan.

“i didn’t think anyone would—“ she stops. giggling. “well… when you put it like that.”

abby is laughing so hard she has tears brimming her eyes. “my god, that is foul.”

“it was practically sentient.” you add. “i’m pretty sure it had goals. life aspirations.”

mel points at you, “you actually are dramatic.”

“you’re lucky i didn’t text the picture in the group chat.”

nora’s eyes widen, “you took a picture?”

“why are you surprised?” abby asks, still laughing. “she documents everything.”

you shrug, completely unapologetic, “evidence.”

leah crosses her arms, trying to keep a straight face. “okay, but really it was one time.”

“it was not just one time.”

“name another.”

“okay, how about the time i found that used condom in my bathroom.”

abby makes a gagging sound. “oh yeah. i remember that one.”

mel shrieks, covering her mouth, “wait, what?”

“one of you left it there. and every single one of you denied it when i asked!” you snap through laughter.

“we didn’t leave it there!” mel says mortfied.

“did too!” abby points at her. “i know it was you!”

“was not!” mel protests. “i was asleep! i knew nothing about it until just now.”

“sureee…” you say smirking. “i’m supposed to believe that someone randomly left a—“ you cut yourself off, shaking your head dramatically, “you know what? nevermind. i’m scarred for life.”

the girls erupt into laughter again before leah’s voice shouts over the noise. “but seriously, please y/n?” everyone quiets down, staring at you with pleading eyes.

“your dorm room is literally perfect.” your eyes flick to mel.

“and your neighbors don’t complain.” then you look at abby.

“they don’t complain because i don’t give them reasons to.”

“come onnn…” nora groans, “we will all make sure everything is cleaned up. after party at y/n’s!”

you sigh, shaking your head, the corners of your lips twitch up even though you will them not to, “fine—“

cheers and high-fives flare across the room.

“but! you guys are on your final strike, i swear.”

the girls chit chat and laugh as they spill out of the locker room; towels over shoulder, bags slung carelessly, bows temporarily tied around wrists.

you follow for a few steps, listening to abby and mel’s ongoing debate about whether or not smoothies count as a breakfast food; but your mind isn’t on their conversation anymore. it’s on room B217.

you drift behind the group, falling back, and letting your pace slow just enough to quickly disappear from view. the hallway stretches out in front of you, your friends’ laughter fading into muffled noise down the corridor.

when you climb the stairs and pass the flickering light in the science wing, your heart jumps into your throat. unused lockers stretch on both sides, cool under your hands as your brush past. you pause at the door, palms slick with nervous sweat, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

all for reasons you’re ‘unsure’ of.

through the wood and glass, you can hear muffled shouting— not angry, just excited. a burst of life. you peer through the narrow window, careful not to be seen; curiousity having gotten the better of you.

inside, ellie sits perched on the edge of a desk, thick notebook open across her lap. dice clattering across the table, papers are scattered around like war plans; her friends are sprawled in mismatched chairs arguing, laughing, and gesturing wildly.

ellie throws her head back— her messy red hair falling in her eyes before she brushes it away. her laugh is loud, genuine, completely unguarded. the kind of laugh that makes your breath hitch.

she’s smiling, actually smiling, and it makes something in your chest flutter.

it’s unfamiliar— seeing her like this. you’ve seen her plenty of times, but this feels different. it feels like you’re seeing her, and not the mask she wears for everyone else.

she motions dramatically towards someone rolling the dice. “no, you can’t seduce the dragon, dina! that’s not how it works!”

the girl groans, throwing her arms up. the boy across from her protests. but ellie’s laugh rises above it all. and you just watch.

the hallway is silent around you, other than the hum of the fluorescent light and distant whispers of passing students. the eerie quiet makes the building feel bigger than it did an hour ago.

ellie leans forward, elbows braced on her knees, eyes bright with mischief. “you don’t even have the stats for that.”

“i do too! come on, let me roll charisma!” she argues back, gesturing accusingly towards a crumped piece of paper.

“you have charisma of 8. the dragon thinks you’re weird.”

the girl, dina, gasps dramatically, “that’s homophobic.”

“it’s math!” ellie fires back, grinning.

the table erupts.

a stack of papers is knocked over, chairs screech against the tile floor, ellie reaches out to catch one of the dice before it rolls onto the floor. you notice it all.

you notice how much lighter ellie looks here— there’s no defense to her voice. no edge to her posture. you notice the small crease between her brows when she’s concentrating. the graphite that’s seemingly always smudged along the side of her hands. the freckles on her cheeks that resemble the constellations in the sky.

your chest tightens. you shouldn’t be here. you know that. this feels private, not performative; like you’re watching something you aren’t meant to see.

but you can’t bring yourself to look away.

ellie leans back again, tipping her chin towards dina, “roll.” the demand makes your stomach flip.

the group falls quiet for a second, anticipating dice on the table— that’s when ellie’s eyes flick up. toward the door. toward you. and it’s not accidental. it lingers.

not long enough that anyone else notices you, not long enough to call attention towards it, but long enough that you feel it. a sharp, electrically charged energy between you— briefly, it feels like someone pressed a live wire to your ribcage.

her laughter doesn’t falter, her posture doesn’t change, but her gaze holds yours; aware. considering. intrigued.

your breath catches, heat crawling up your neck. you still don’t move or look away, even though every rational part of you is saying to do so. momentarily, everything between you disappears— it’s just you and her and room B217.

then a hand slams on the table in victory and the spell breaks. ellie looks away first; back to the game, back to her friends, just like nothing happened. but your heart is racing, pounding so hard it feels possible the group inside can hear it through the door.

you should leave. you definitely should leave.

especially now that you’ve been seen.

but you can’t, you don’t.

you feel inexplicably drawn to this room, so you stay, just outside, just watching; debating on crossing the threshold. your fingers flex against the strap your bag, bottom lip pulled between your teeth; ellie’s voice rises again.

“roll initiative. no mercy.”

you almost smile, but— “can i help you?”

the voice is calm, close, and directly behind you. your entire body jolts, spinning around too fast, and gasping softly to yourself.

professor miller stands a few feet away, arms folded loosely, glasses slipping slightly down the bridge of his nose. he’s holding a stack of ungraded papers against his chest— he’s not upset, but confused.

“i—“ your throat has gone bone dry. “i was just—“

he glances at the door, then back to you. “observing?”

heat floods your face, “i didn’t wanna interrupt…”

inside, someone shouts again, there’s more banging on the table; echoing laughs and muffled jokes.

professor miller’s mouth twitches, not quite a smile. “well…” he starts mildly. “hovering outside doorways tends to have the same effect anyway.”

your stomach drops.

because before you can respond, he steps forward, and pushes the classroom door open. it swings wide and the noise inside halts instantly— dice forgotten mid-roll, conversations cut off, every head turns.

including hers.

ellie’s still sitting on a desk across the room, pencil balanced between her fingers, notebook still open in her lap. she turns at the sound of the door, and her eyes land on you immediately.

she doesn’t look surprised, if anything she looks a little smug. her head tilts slightly, a crooked half-smirk pulling at her mouth— the expression of someone who knew you were there, who knew you’d get caught.

dina notices it instantly; her gaze flicking to you in the doorway, back to ellie, then to you again. she does a once over; you’re in your uniform skirt, an oversized school hoodie hanging just above it, cheer shoes still on.

her brow lifts slowly.

professor miller gestures casually with the stack of papers, “if you’re going to watch, you may as well come inside.”

fuck… this is so embarrassing.

but ellie doesn’t say anything— just taps the end of her pencil against her notebook, green eyes fixed on you.

she looks annoyingly satisfied.

professor miller steps aside, opening the door wider. “well? in or out?” he prompts.

the hallway behind you feels colder, but safer.

the room in front of you is warmer, but loud and full of eyes.

ellie shifts forward slightly, one of her converse nudging the chair next to her a little closer to you— that small, knowing smirk still tugging at her lips.

dina’s eyes, and everyone else’s… are bouncing between the two of you like a tennis match.

oh my god. this is hell. it must be.

professor miller clears his throat softly beside you, “clock’s ticking.”

you exhale through your nose, already feeling warmth flaring on your cheeks.

fine. fine.

you walk inside, every step feels louder than it should as your crisp, white shoes squeak against the tile floor. you keep your eyes down, definitely not on ellie, until you reach the desk beside her.

the chair she nudged out, the only one empty, is, of course, the one closest to her.

of course.

you pull the chair out the rest of the way and sit down slowly. you’re desperately trying to ignore the stares and pretend this situation is normal; acting as if you didn’t just get caught eavesdropping on the dnd club like a creep.

ellie’s knee bumps the back of your chair the second you sit down, not hard, but enough to get your attention. your eyes shift sideways, and she’s looking right at you. lazy half-smile, eyes glinting mischievously, pencil still twirling between her fingers.

“nice of you to join us.” she whispers under her breath, low enough that only you hear it.

you shoot her a glare. “i wasn’t—“

“spying?” ellie finishes easily, tilting her head as if challenging you to argue.

you clench your teeth.

across the table, dina leans back in her chair, eyebrows climbing as her gaze continuously shifts between you and ellie.

“okay…” she starts slowly, dragging the word out like she’s still processing it. “what exactly is happening right now?”

you close your eyes for half a second and ellie shrugs, still watching you. this is a fucking nightmare— you should’ve left with the girls. you should’ve pretended to give a shit about smoothies and breakfast foods.

“new recruit.” she says.

your head snaps towards her, “i’m not—“

dina laughs quietly, “people don’t tend to lurk outside the dnd room for fun.”

“i wasn’t lurking…” you mutter.

ellie’s knee bumps your chair again, “she was hovering.” she ‘corrects’ dina quietly.

you glare at her again, “those words are synonymous.”

she hums, “maybe.”

dina leans forward in her chair, eyes lingering on you for another second before trailing to ellie, “oouu, this is interesting.”

you open your mouth to argue, but professor miller claps his hands once from the front of the room.

“alright,” his voice is calm as he settles into the chair behind his desk. “if the spectators and commentators are finished—“ your face burns hotter, gaze falling to your hands folded in your lap. a few quiet snickers ripple through the group.

“—let’s continue.”

a boy you recognize from yesterday, jesse? you think his name might be, gathers a couple of papers from the floor.

“hold on— wait. i need to get this—“ he’s grumbling, flipping through pages of his disastrous notebook. “give me a minute here.”

ellie leans back onto her hands and her eyes catch yours.

“i didn’t think cheerleaders partook in loser activities.”

you cross your arms, flashing her a teasing smile. “is there a permission slip i need to get signed? for ‘loser activities’?”

she shrugs, thoroughly amused. “we’ll see if you can keep up.”

jesse finally rubs his hand together and drums his fingers on the desk, “okay. i’m good.”

“alright, alright.” ellie’s voice is sharper now, slipping back into story teller mode. “you all enter the ruined watchtower, the air is thick with smoke and the smell of wet stone. three goblins peer out from the rubble— what do you do?”

dina doesn’t miss a beat, “i seduce them.”

everyone groans dramatically, dina tries to plead her case, but ellie deadpans.

“that’s enough flirting, dina. you have 2 charisma after the dragon incident. the goblins are confused and slightly offended.”

low laughter rumbles through the group, you bite back a giggle yourself; your heart flutters as ellie smirks at the table. the words roll off her tongue effortlessly, like she’s narrating a movie— it’s insanely alluring.

jesse rolls his eyes, “i attack the nearest one!”

ellie scribbles something down in her notebook, “roll for it.”

jesse grabs the dice quickly, tossing it desperately across the table. everyone leans in as it clatters around the wood before stopping. ellie glances down at the number, and all eyes lift to her.

“…yikes.”

“what? what does that mean?” jesse demands frantically.

she tilts her head, looking down at her notebook again. “it means…” she says calmly. “you miss.”

“unbelievable!” dina shouts.

“seriously? you tried to seduce them! with charisma stats lower than hell itself! this is entirely your fault!” jesse argues.

the shouting continues, blending into words and phrases completely unfamiliar to you. saving throws. armor class. something about goblin morale.

so your eyes drift to ellie— your thoughts stuck on the way her laughter fills the room, how she leans into every new plot line with ease, her lazy smile when someone cracks a stupid joke.

she doesn’t notice, or maybe she does.

you’re taking it all in— taking her in. the way she moves, talks, commands attention without really trying.

a sudden knock at the door makes everyone jump; the janitor pokes his head in, “hey folks… building’s closing up soon. y’all need to wrap it up.”

ellie exhales, leaning back on her hands, “fine, fine… we’ll call it for tonight.”

the group groans, notebooks snapping shut, dice rattling as everyone gathers their stuff. your stomach twists— you were just getting lost in it. in her.

“man, that was bullshit.” jesse mutters, stuffing folded papers into his notebook. “i’m convinced that ellie tampered with the dice.” he points accusingly at the table.

ellie snorts, resting her elbows on her knees again. “yeah jesse. i used my evil dungeon master powers to momentarily control gravity.”

dina slings her bag over her shoulder. “i think your strategy is just flawed.”

he recoils in almost immediately, “after today’s campaign your opinion on strategy means literally nothing.”

“that dragon was into me.” dina’s argues.

jesse lets out an incredulous laugh. “that dragon tried to eat you.”

“passion can be complicated.” dina sounds completely serious.

ellie shakes her head, finally sliding down off the desk and standing behind the chair you’re still sitting in. “you lost half your health.”

“it was a calculated risk.”

jesse scoffs and pauses briefly as he walks past you, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“well, cheerleader…” he taps a finger on the edge of the desk you’re sitting at, “welcome to the nerdiest corner of campus. room B217.”

a couple of the other members laugh on their way out the door, professor miller is watching over the frames of his glasses.

you huff quietly, taking a quick look around the room. “is there a membership requirement?”

jesse shrugs, already backing towards the door. “you showed up. that’s basically initiation.”

dina shoves him gently towards the door, eyes bouncing between you and ellie once again. “wow, i’m gonna enjoy this way more than i should.”

ellie throws a crumpled piece of paper at her, she narrowly dodges it, ducking outside the doorframe. “bye. get out.”

dina’s laugh echos down the empty hallway, jesse salutes casually and follows close behind her. “same time next week, ever-powerful dungeon master.”

ellie leans back against a desk, crossing her arms over her chest. “maybe you’ll manage to roll above a 5.” she fires back.

“low blow!” jesse calls, disappearing from sight.

the room grows quiet as the last of the party filters out; leaving you, ellie, and professor miller. he gathers a stack of papers off his desk and files them into a worn leather bag. absently, he wanders towards the door, fiddling with the buckle on the front before he pauses in the doorway, and turns back to ellie.

“don’t forget to straighten up before you head out.” ellie gives a lazy two-finger salute, “yeah, yeah.”

“i’ll see you at home.”

your head lifts at that.

he drifts out the door and down the hallway, the door clicking shut a moment later.

you glance at ellie, eyebrows pulling together slightly.

“…professor miller is your dad?”

ellie snorts quietly, dragging a hand through her messy hair.

“not exactly.” she pushes a few of the desks into a straight line. “more like… father figure.” then she lifts a shoulder. “…and general caretaker.”

you watch her for a second, straightening tables and gathering stray chairs. “that’s… nice.” you say after a long moment.

ellie glances over at you, amused, eyebrows raised. “nice?”

you shrug a little, “i don’t know. i feel like most teachers barely tolerate their students.”

she laughs quietly, more to herself. “yeah, well… he tolerates me just slightly more than the average.”

she scoops a handful of dice into a small tin, metal clinking softly as she closes it. you don’t mean to pry, but there’s something captivating about ellie; you need to know more about her.

“so… how’d that happen?” you question carefully.

ellie sighs, something in her expression tells you this is a sensitive topic.

“him and my mom were… close? i don’t know he was kinda just… always around,” ellie cracks her knuckles and leans back the table she’s standing in front of. “when she started… not being a mother,” she scoffs, shaking her head slightly. “joel never left.”

you’re quiet for a moment, letting that settle between you, nodding slow. she nudges the leg of a chair with her foot, the soft scrape against tile breaking the silence.

then you ask softer, “how long ago was that?”

ellie glances at you before her gaze flicks back to the floor. “i was 14. high school freshman.”

you blink a few times, “14?”

“14,” she parrots, pausing briefly before continuing. “her life was better without a kid she had to take care of, i guess. joel’s been stuck with me ever since.”

“what about your dad?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

she looks like she doesn’t wanna answer, for a second you think she might not.

“never knew him.” but the words land flat, like she’s said them 100 times before; and a familiar feeling settles in your chest— abandonment.

you lean back in your chair, fiddling with the strings on your hoodie. “i never knew my dad either…”

ellie’s eyes flick up to you, “no?”

you shrug a shoulder, shaking your head, “my mom never talked about him either. she’d just get mad when i asked.”

“your mom stuck around though?” she’s still looking at you, expression softened; almost curious.

you take a deep breath, having never really spoken about this to anyone; but there’s something about ellie. about room B217.

“that’s a loaded question with a complicated answer.”

ellie furrows her brows, deciding if she wants to push or not. “how complicated?”

you search for the words for a second, “she was around… technically.”

ellie tilts her head, arms crossed loosely— listening.

“she worked. like… a lot. weekends, holidays, birthdays—that one always hurt… she was just… trying to make sure we had everything.” you trail off for a second, your heart contracts in your chest. “so i did—have everything. new phones, new clothes, cheer camps, and competition fees.” you huff out a quiet laugh. “but… having things, cost me having a mom.”

it’s quiet for a second; just the hum of fluorescent lights, down the hall a locker slams. ellie shifts her weight, nudging the chair back into place.

“sounds like we both got good at being alone.”

you give her a small smile, the kind that’s sad, but honest. “yeah… sounds like it.”

another beat of silence passes between you, nothing uncomfortable, more so empathetic. but ellie clears her throat suddenly, as if she realized how personal the conversation had gotten.

“i, uh—“ she gestures vaguely around the room. “should probably clean this up before joel pretends to be mad about it.”

you take a look around; chairs still out of place, paper scattered on the floor, candy wrappers and chip bags litter desks. “need help?”

ellie shrugs, “if you want.”

you stand, grabbing loose papers from the floor, stacking them neatly. ellie pushes chairs under their respective desks and gathers the lingering trash. you swallow thickly and inhale slow.

“so…” you start as casually as possible. “i’m having a party friday night, you should come.”

ellie freezes, “…what?”

you giggle softy, “after the game? on friday? i’m having a party. i’m inviting you.”

you ellie squints, crooked smile on her face. “you’re inviting me to your cheerleader party?”

you grin and roll your eyes playfully. “come on, i came to your nerd club.”

ellie’s head snaps towards you immediately, wearing an astonished expression.

“okay first off? you were caught spying on said ‘nerd club’. and second, it’s not actually a club.”

you walk closer to ellie, dropping the papers on the table behind her— ignoring the way your heart is pounding in your ears. “you and a group of people meet in the same room every week for an extended period of time.”

ellie points at you with a crumpled candy wrapper, “that does not make it a club.”

she walks towards the corner of the room where the trash can lives, tossing the wrappers into the bin.

“it’s a club.” you reiterate.

ellie glares at you as she walks back over, picking her bag up off the floor, “it’s not.”

your eyes track her until she standing in front of you again. this time, she’s close enough you can see the faint scar through her eyebrow, the way half of her hair is pulled back but it’s still falling in her face.

your voice catches in your throat, ellie raises her slit brow.

“uh— so… yeah. you’re coming. to my party, it’s only fair.”

“fair?”

“yes, fair. i braved the depths of wherever the hell you guys were tonight—“

“lower than hell.” she cuts you off.

“sure.” you nod. “i survived that, so you have to survive my party.”

ellie snorts, adjusting her bag on her shoulder and turning towards the door. “you really want the weird dungeon master girl at your party?”

you follow behind her, laughing softly. “i think you’ll be okay.”

she studies you, clearly unsure if you’re actually serious. “i feel like i’ll stick out.”

you tilt your head and narrow your eyes. “ellie, we wear skirts for sport and i let people throw me in the air. we all stick out.”

that gets a genuine laugh out of her— you can’t help the smile that blooms across your face.

ellie shakes her head, pushing the classroom door open and flicking the light off. the hallway is completely empty, evening sunset spilling through tall windows.

she lingers in the doorway for a second, slightly unfocused like she’s thinking. “what time?” she says finally.

you perk up at that, falling into step beside her. “10.”

ellie puffs out a breath, “10.” she breathes, repeating it, filing away the information.

you nudge her shoulder with yours as you walk. “see? you’re already considering it.”

she bumps you back, scoffing. “i said i’d think about it.”

“that’s what i said.”

ellie rolls her eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

when you reach the end of the hallway, she stops, and turns to face you. “i… will think about it, seriously.” she says firmer this time.

you step backwards, pointing in her direction as you head in the opposite direction, “10.”

ellie pinches the bridge of her nose, watching you retreat, “you’re pushy, you know that?”

you wink, “see you friday, dungeon master.”

she gives you a subtle nod, “cheerleader.”

she watches you walk away for a second, then calls after you— “it’s still not a club!”

you disappear around the corner, your laughter clinging to the corners of the hallway as the stairwell doors swing shut behind you.

she stands there for another second. two seconds. three. then she scoffs to herself and walks towards the stairwell at the other end of the hall.

“stupid…” she mutters to herself.

ellie’s converse squeak against the tile as she heads for the student parking lot.

a cheerleader’s party.

she scrubs a hand down her face, pushes the doors open, and lazily jogs down the steps.

she should not be thinking about this.

there’s absolutely no reason for her to go to some loud, sweaty, alcohol ridden party that looks like something straight out of a 2000’s teen drama.

and yet…

‘10’.

your voice pops into her head uninvited.

“why am i even thinking about this?” she groans to herself. because you asked.

ellie reaches the bottom of the stairwell, pushes through the heavy door, and into the cool air. campus is quieter now; most people are already gone or are finally heading home for the night. the sky is turning that deep orange-pink color that makes everything seem softer than it is.

she shoves her hands into her hoodie pocket as she walks through the parking lot to her truck.

‘because you asked’ is a stupid reason— she barely knows you.

you’re a cheerleader. loud friends, loud parties, loud everything.

not exactly ellie’s scene.

so why is it that you’re plaguing her every thought?

your smile, your laugh, how you don’t look at her like she’s the punchline of a joke.

and? you came to dnd—sort of…

she gives credit where it’s due.

‘it’s only fair’ ellie exhales through her nose when your voice rings in her ears again.

“it’s a trap.” she decides out loud.

a college party full of people she doesn’t know? yeah… sounds like social suicide.

when she reaches her truck, she fumbles with the keys trying to unlock it, then finally tosses her bag into the passenger seat once the door swings open.

“definitely not going.” she mumbles as she climbs in.

she starts the engine— a beat passes. then another.

“…maybe I’ll stop by.”

ellie immediately groans and throws her head back against the head rest. “jesus christ.”

she rubs her eyes with the heels of her hands.

why does she even care?

you’re a popular cheerleader… who she met literally two days ago…

some pushy, annoying, weirdly, confident cheerleader, who waltzed into room B217 twice, and made her heart stop both times.

“this is dumb.” she tells the ceiling of her truck.

you don’t need some weird, dnd loser girl lurking around your party. but not only had you invited her, you made the choice for her— ‘you’re coming’.

ellie huffs a quiet laugh through her nose before she can stop it, “so pushy.”

she shifts her truck in reverse and backs out of the parking spot, “she probably wouldn’t even notice if i didn’t show.”

she pulls out of the lot, turning on the small road that leads off campus. another few seconds pass, and she sighs.

“fuck… this is gonna be a whole thing.”

friday

your dorm room is already louder than usual, and it’s just you and abby here. music already humming through speakers on your kitchen counter, bass thumping lowly through the walls of your living room.

you’re standing on a chair in the kitchen, shoving a velvet box and a few other things you don’t trust around drunk people behind cereal boxes.

“hey!” abby’s voice echos from the bathroom down the short hallway. “do you have eyeliner that doesn’t suck?”

you hop off the chair and peer down the hall, the bathroom door creaks open, and abby leans out; one of her eyes half-done, the other completely bare.

“this one dries out every 3 seconds,” she waves the pencil in the air dramatically. “it looks like a toddler tried to do my makeup with a sharpie.”

you giggle and walk towards the bathroom. “maybe if you didn’t buy your eyeliner at the school store…”

“it was $4 dollars!”

“and that’s exactly why it looks like a child did it.”

you push past her and reach into your makeup bag sitting on the counter, pulling out your own liner. “here, use this one.”

abby takes it immediately, inspecting it closely. “oh… this is fancy.”

“it was $22 dollars.”

“fuck yeah…”

she turns back towards the mirror, and slowly drags the felt tip across her lid while you lean against the door frame. your hair and makeup is already done, your outfit’s on; the only thing left to do is start drinking.

abby glances at you through the reflection, “so…” you already don’t like that tone. “how many people are coming tonight?”

you shrug lightly, then fix a couple loose strands of hair, “honestly, no idea. the usual crowd and whoever else they bring.”

“mhhmm.” abby’s watching you, tilting her head, you can tell there’s suspicion brewing. “anyone i don’t know about?”

you hesitate for half a second too long and abby whips around to face you.

“…you fucking did…”

you push off the door frame and walk back towards the kitchen, “maybe…” you call over your shoulder.

“who?” abby is right behind you, fixng her shirt and and fluffing her hair— which is normally pulled back into a braid.

you sigh dramatically, like she’s forcing the information out of you. “ellie… williams…”

abby blinks, completely expressionless. “ellie?”

“yes…”

“as in… loser stoner who runs the dnd club?” she questions slowly.

“it’s not a club…”

abby is just staring at you, definitely trying to process what you just told her. then… a slow grin spreads across her face. you know that grin.

“stop.” you warn, grabbing the plastic cups from the cabinet.

abby leans her hip against the counter, arms folding across her chest, still smiling. “how… did you and ellie williams cross paths? and what possessed you to invite her to a party with a bunch of cheerleaders and football players?”

you shake your head and fill your cups with a mixture of whatever liquor and juice is in your fridge. “i may or may not have gotten caught lingering in the science wing… peering through the door… watching their… gameplay?”

abby’s jaw drops slightly, her eyes widening. “seriously? you spied on the dnd club?”

you take a long sip from your cup, pushing abby’s across the counter to the space in front of her. “i was not spying… i was just… briefly scouting out new opportunities.”

“right… so how does ‘briefly scouting’ turn into inviting ellie to this party?”

you wave a dismissive hand, walking around the counter towards the couch. “don’t worry about it…” you smile into your cup when abby gasps and follows you into the living room.

“oh my god…” she mutters, sitting down next to you, staring at you intently. “you like her…”

you nearly choke on your drink, “what? no.”

abby only smiles wider, “you met her… what? two days ago? and you already invited her over.”

“i invited her to a party that just so happens to be at my place.”

abby pauses, still smirking to herself. “well… do we want her to come?”

your head falls against the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling for a second. “yeah… we do.”

“so you do like her?” she questions.

you groan, lift your head, and finish your drink in one long chug; abby’s eyebrows are almost touching her hairline as you swallow it down.

“okay… fine. maybe i do like her. a little. but it’s not like i’m gonna make a scene or anything.”

abby grin turns wicked, “oh, i’m sure you’ll be subtle. you’re so good at it.”

you groan again, abby knows you too well— and clearly she’s having the time of her life with this information.

“if she really does show up, you’re not just gonna stare at her from across the room all night, right?”

you shoot her a glare, a real one. she laughs, finishing the rest of her drink and slamming the cup on the coffee table.

“relax. it’ll be fine. you’ll be fine.” you nod while she continues her pep talk. “you’re y/n y/l/n. everyone likes you, so don’t overthink it. just don’t be weirdly obvious about having a crush on her. pretty girls tend to scare away the losers.”

you exhale roughly and go back into the kitchen to refill your cup “come on… don’t… be like that.”

abby laughs, “be like what?”

“like we’re better than the dnd club because we’re—“

“—normal?” she cuts you off.

you stop pouring for a second, liquor glugging a little too aggressively into the cup. you steady your hand and flick your gaze up to hers. “that’s not what i was gonna say.”

abby stands up and slides her cup across the counter, silently urging you to fill hers too. she’s giving you an amused look. “sure it wasn’t.”

you fill her cup halfway and set down the bottle down harder than you meant to. “i’m serious. they’re not… losers. they’re just different.”

abby makes a face, “different how?”

you think for a second, trying to find the right words, you duck into the fridge and re-grab the juice. “they just… like their own stuff. they’re not hurting anybody…”

abby’s staring at you like you’ve grown a second head. “wow…” she says slowly.

“what?”

“you’re literally defending the dnd club right now.”

you roll your eyes and finish making your drinks, fully over having this conversation. “i’m defending one person.”

abby’s grin returns immediately. “your developing crush on the leader of the nerds is so fucking random.”

you push past her back into the living room and you’re back to chugging your drink. “you’re so fucking annoying.”

she laughs and leans against the kitchen counter, “just enjoying the fact that the cheerleading captain has a crush on the dragon slaying nerd.”

you flop back on the couch and point at her, already feeling your first drink more than you should be. “you better behave tonight.”

abby’s hand flies to her chest, acting as if she’s offended, “me?”

she walks over, standing in the center of the living room just beyond the coffee table— you raise an eyebrow.

“who else?”

“you’re the one with the strange crush,” she tips her cup at you. “and that’s suspicious.”

“you’re suspicious.” you mutter.

“i’m trying to get laid tonight, and you were supposed to be my wing woman.”

“i am your wing woman!”

“then stop sabotaging my chances with your weird attraction to dnd dorks.”

you give her a pointed look, already annoyed with the comments about ellie. “like i said… you better behave. when ellie shows up i want civility.”

“if she shows up.” abby adds.

“abby.”

“okay! fine. full civility. i’ll even shake her hand.”

you snort, “no you won’t. just… don’t interrogate her,” you point like a mother disciplining her child. “and don’t call her a dragon slaying dungeon freak or anything of the sort.”

she laughs loudly, tipping her head back, and walking over to the speakers to turn up the music. “i’m not that big of a cunt. i’ll be nice, i swear.”

you just glare at her, it’s forced though. abby grabs the bottle off the counter and takes a quick swig before passing it to you. “dude… chill out. take a shot. tonight’s supposed to be fun! you’re ruining my vibe.”

you grimace as the liquor burns your throat, you screw the cap back on, and head down the hallway to fix up the bathroom cluttered with makeup and discarded clothing.

a knock rattles your front door as soon as you pass through the bathroom door. “get that, i’ll be out in a minute!” you call to abby.

“i am getting it!”

you close the door, the music muffled slightly by the walls— it’s actually shockingly quiet in here. you lean both hands on the counter to steady yourself and look in the mirror.

makeup’s good. hair’s still in place. your outfit is cute. your heart however, is doing weird things in your chest.

you exhale slowly, forcing a shallow breath through your nose, “it’s just a party.” you tell your reflection. “and she’s just a girl.”

people are already laughing in the living room, voices you can place and others you can’t. you shove the makeup bags under the counter, and wipe the surface clean with a towel.

abby’s right— this is supposed to be fun.

she probably won’t even come.

you open the door and music floods your ears again. leah and mel are standing in the living room with two football players who’s names you don’t care to know.

because all you can actually think about right now?

you really hope ellie shows up.

by the time the party actually fills out, the room doesn’t even feel like yours anymore. the living room is packed— people are squeezed onto the couch, sitting on the floor, everyone’s yelling over each other.

someone you vaguely recognize from your bio class is trying to start a drinking game on the coffee table while two football players you definitely recognize argue about whose turn it is.

you’ve lost count of how many drinks you’ve had and at some point you started taking shots straight from the bottle.

“okay—okay— listen,” abby has you trapped in the kitchen, she’s leaning halfway across the island toward the blonde she’s been orbiting all evening. “i’m very good at pool. like scary good.”

you laugh and nudge her shoulder, “we must have entirely different definitions of good.”

the blonde giggles and covers her mouth.

abby gives you a betrayed look, “you’re supposed to be helping me.”

“i am helping,” you say into your cup. “helping you stay humble.”

abby groans loud, but throws an arm over your shoulder and pulls you in for a drunken side hug as she turns back to the girl.

you end up doing most of the talking for the next 20 minutes—asking questions, keeping the conversation rolling, nudging abby when she starts to get weird.

classic wing woman shit.

somewhere along the way, the thought of ellie slipped away. there’s too many people, too much noise, too many conversations happening all at once. one of the girls dragged you to dance for a minute, someone else hands you a shot you definitely don’t need; abby got dragged outside by the blonde, and you end up laughing with a group of people you barely know.

by the time you stumble back into the kitchen, it’s late. the digital clock on your microwave says 12:57am.

your head feels warm and floaty as you lean against the island trying to crack another bottle, someone behind you is arguing loudly about what song should be played next; and in the chaos of it all, the front door opens.

you barely register it at first, people have been coming and going for the last couple hours. but then you look up, and everything around you slows.

ellie williams is standing just inside the doorway, the door still open behind her like it’s waiting for her to bolt.

for a second, she’s frozen; you really think she might turn around and leave. her shoulders are slightly hunched, hands shoved into the pockets of her dark denim jacket, her hair’s messy like it always is. she has her sleeves rolled up just enough you can see the ink on her forearm; ripped jeans and the same beat up converse she always wears.

she’s completely underdressed for a party and she looks wildly out of place— like someone accidentally clipped her into the wrong movie.

someone brushes past her to go down the hallway and she shifts to the side, scratching the back of her neck.

you hadn’t realized how much alcohol was in your system until this moment, because right now it feels like every single nerve in your body just woke up all at once.

and suddenly you can’t bring yourself to look anywhere else.

you swallow. hard.

your brain running a mile a minute, still trying to figure out how to act like a normal person.

don’t stare. don’t be weird. don’t—

then she glances up and her eyes catch yours.

the second she sees you, her expression morphs into something that resembles relief and possibly a bit of regret.

the alcohol buzzing through your system makes this moment feel strangely magnetic, like the room is tilting slightly toward where she’s standing. ellie looks around briefly, picking at her already chipped nail polish; she looks like she’s still debating leaving.

and you realize— belatedly— that you’re the host.

and you’re standing here, clutching the neck of a bottle like an idiot.

from somewhere outside, abby’s voice drifts back in with laughter— ‘if she really does show up, you’re not just gonna stare at her from across the room all night, right?’

her words hit you like a slap in the face.

right. the host. the person who invited her here. not the weird girl across the room who’s staring like she’s buffering.

you push off the island before you can think too hard about it, setting the bottle down a little too quickly. ellie’s still hovering near the door, someone squeezes past her on their way out and she flattens against the wall automatically, shoulders curling inwards.

god… she looks like a stray cat that accidentally wandered into a frat house.

weaving through the bodies in your dorm is way harder than it should be— people keep stopping you to say hi, someone grabs your arm to ask where the bathroom is, a football player tries to hand you a shot.

“maybe later?” you laugh gently, prying free and finally taking the last few strides towards ellie.

she doesn’t notice you until you’re about 3 steps away from her.

she straightens like she’s bracing herself, and for a second… you both just stare at each other. up close, the noise of the party fades into the background, everything around you feels distant.

besides ellie.

you’re very aware of how close she is.

“uh… hey?” she sounds like she’s asking a question.

eloquent.

you smile before you can help it. “you came.”

she lets out a small breath through her nose, “uh, yeah. you’re… very persuasive.”

her voice is rough around the edges, quieter than everything else in the room; and for a moment, she just watches you— she’s making sure you actually meant the invitation.

“i hope it’s not weird i showed up so late.” she glances behind you, rocking back and forth on her heels. “i almost didn’t come…”

“what? why?” you frown.

you aren’t sure why you’re so surprised to hear that.

ellie shrugs, gaze flicking to the ground, “didn’t really feel like my scene.”

“well, i’m glad you did.”

she looks back up, meeting your eyes; she has a small, playful smile on her lips. “you kinda told me i was coming. didn’t leave much room for argument.”

you grin and tilt your head. “did i?”

“pretty aggressively too.” she adds.

“mhm. that does sound like me.”

ellie finally smiles properly, a strange silence settling between you even though a party rages on just feet away.

ellie shifts again as the door opens, popping the bubble you were in.

“so… where do i stand so i’m not in front of the door like a fire hazard?”

you laugh and reach out before thinking, lightly catching her wrist in your fingers. the contact momentarily steals your breath.

“come on, i’ll take you somewhere safer before someone tramples you.”

you tug her through the crowd, the feeling of her skin burns. you can hardly think straight as you guide her to the kitchen.

ellie’s pretty sure the second you grab her wrist it takes 5 years off her life.

your fingers are warm and soft; your touch is casual in way that suggests you have idea what this small amount of contact is doing to her. she lets you pull her through the room, trying very hard to act like her brain isn’t short-circuiting.

people seem to move automatically as you pass by—smiling while saying your name, tapping your shoulder and cheering; you move through it the chaos like it’s natural. like you belong here.

ellie follows half a step behind you, extremely aware of your grip until you finally let go when you reach the kitchen. the loss of contact is immediate. and annoying. you grab a bottle off the counter and twist the cap off, the seal cracks— a fresh bottle.

“okay, rule number one…” you say, pouring the clear liquid into two cups.

“there’s rules?”

“yep.”

you set the bottle down without screwing the top on and grab the cups; you thrust one of them her way. ellie raises an eyebrow as she takes the cup, leaning against the counter casually.

“if you’re gonna survive this party? you have to take a shot with me.”

ellie snorts, “is that a rule or just a god awful survival strategy?”

you scoff, “it’s both. just trust me and take the shot.”

she looks down at the liquor sloshing in the cup, and honestly? she’s not protesting it.

because right now her heart is still beating like she ran here, and maybe it’ll chill her the fuck out.

“alright,” she raises the cup. “to shitty survival strategies.”

you raise yours and clink it against hers, rolling your eyes.

“cheers.”

the liquid burns all the way down; she winces hard, squeezing one eye shut.

“jesus— fuck…”

you giggle immediately. “oh my god, was that your first shot ever?”

“fuck off,” she sets the cup down, and you’re already refilling it. “i wasn’t expecting battery acid.”

“rude,” you start. “we’re in college. cheap liquor is part of the experience.”

ellie stares into the cup again, then shrugs— fuck it.

she downs the second one too, this one bigger than the first, but it goes down easier the second time. you seem pleased with that.

you snatch her cup and grab a random juice carton from your fridge. “you’re doing great.”

ellie watches you dump several questionable liquids together in both your cups like a mad scientist. when you hand it to her, she’s unimpressed.

“this looks illegal.”

“come on, it’s delicious. look—“ you take a drink from your own cup. “see?”

she inspects the liquid again, “it’s got floaters…”

“it’s pulp, ellie. just drink the fucking liquor.”

she takes a cautious sip and immediately coughs. “oh— that’s—“

you’re already laughing, “it’s good, right?”

“it’s horrible.”

“you’re so dramatic. try it again.”

she takes another sip, then a slightly longer one. it’s bad, but it’s not bad enough to stop drinking. the warmth spreads through her chest quickly, lightening the heavy pit of anxiety that’s been sitting in her stomach since she knocked on the door.

the music is less overwhelming, the crowd feels less suffocating, but you… you’re standing way too close. your arm brushes hers when you reach for the bottle again and ellie feels it like an electric shock.

“okay, rule number two—“

she can’t help but laugh, “i forgot about your ‘rules’.”

you point at her immediately, “hey—do not mock the rules. they’re important.”

ellie snorts into her cup, “yeah? how many are there?”

you pause, thinking way harder than necessary. “…3.”

“you’re totally making this up as you go.”

“obviously!” you say like it should’ve been obvious.

ellie shakes her head, hiding a smile by taking another long sip. the liquor is already doing its job— she can feel the buzz settling behind her eyelids, the warm floaty feeling creeping around the depths of her thoughts.

it’s helping. a lot.

you lean your hip against the counter beside her, refilling both of your cups again like this is a completely reasonable drinking pace.

“rule number two,” you repeat as firmly as you can whilst giggling.

ellie hums, nodding her head.

“no standing awkwardly in corners.”

ellie quickly glances around the kitchen, “we’re literally standing in a corner.”

you wave a dismissive hand, “yeah, but this is different.”

“how?”

“i’m here.”

ellie blinks and stares at you longer than she intends to. the alcohol in her system smoothing out her nerves— suddenly everything about this feels… easier. less terrifying.

you catch her staring and raise an eyebrow, “what?”

ellie shakes her head quickly, dragging her eyes away, and takes another sip of the drink you keep refilling. “nothing.”

you narrow your eyes, a curious smile playing on your lips. “you’re smiling.”

“am not.”

“you literally are!”

she presses her lips together, trying to stop. it does not work.

you grin wide, and unapologetically you—

“oh my god…” when you start laughing, ellie’s heart feels like it may explode. “you’re getting giggly.”

“i am not giggly.” ellie denies it, but the smile will not leave her face.

“you’re totally giggly.”

“you’re giggly.”

“maybe… but that’s normal.”

ellie laughs under her breath and turns around to lean back against the counter. the room tilts in that slightly pleasant way that means she’s definitely past tipsy now. you bump your shoulder against hers lightly, she glances at you sideways.

“looks like you might be having fun.”

you’re wearing that stupid, toothy smile again.

“fun’s a strong word,” she bites the inside of her cheek. “but you’re cool, cheerleader.”

she sees the heat crawl up your neck, kissing the tips of your ears; you glance up at her through your lashes, your lip caught between your teeth. she knows you catch the small smile, still tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“well… you’re pretty cool too.”

ellie’s eyebrows lift, “wow… that’s a high praise coming from the cheer captain.”

you groan, dropping your head against her shoulder; ellie freezes.

“are you ever gonna let that go?”

her brain barely reboots fast enough to form words. “definitely not.”

ellie suddenly forgot what she was doing with her hands, or her face, or anything, really. for second, her brain just stalls.

when you finally lift your head, you don’t move far; you’re still close enough she can feel the warmth of your skin and the spark that lingers when your shoulders brush. you reach behind her to grab the bottle again.

“okay,” you announce, twisting the cap off. “one more shot and then we leave the kitchen.”

ellie lifts her upper lip, “but the kitchen feels safe.”

you giggle, loose and unbothered. “i won’t let anything bad happen to you,” you promise, drawling out your last words. “i swearrrr…”

she snorts, but grabs the cup when you shove it towards her. “that’s a bold promise, cheerleader.”

“have a little faith.”

you pour liquor generously into both cups and lift yours. ellie eyes the liquid, then you, then sighs.

“i’m starting to catch the vibe that you have terrible ideas.”

all you do is smile, “welcome to my life, ellie williams.”

the shots go down easiest this time, but ellie still hisses through her teeth when it hits her stomach.

“god—“

you’re already laughing again, leaning most of your weight against the counter. her buzz settles in almost immediately, ellie exhales slowly and blinks a couple times as the room blurs around the edges.

yep. that one did it. “okay… i’m definitely drunk now.”

you beam like it’s an accomplishment, ellie sets her empty cup down on the counter.

“good! that’s means we can leave the kitchen!”

“mmhmm, i’m not convinced those two things are connected.”

you grab her sleeve lightly, one of them having rolled down, and tug her away from the counter. “come onnnn—“

and that’s exactly when a loud voice cuts through the kitchen, “there you are!”

abby.

she stumbles in from the front door with a drunk blonde tucked under her arm, both of them are laughing about something that clearly happened outside.

abby stops the second she notices the two of you standing there. alone.

her eyes flick to you, then to ellie, then back to you, and back to ellie. she looks at the half empty bottle on the counter, then your entirely empty cups— then a slow grin spreads across her face.

“… well, well, well..”

“—abby—“

she ignores you completely, looking straight at ellie instead; the blonde giggles and leans further into abby’s shoulder.

“you must be the dragon—“

you elbow her sharply in the ribs.

“OW! okay— jesus…”

“behave.” you hiss.

abby rubs her side dramatically, “i was behaving!”

ellie is watching the entire exchange with quiet amusement, she just leans against the counter again with her arms loosely crossed.

abby sighs like she’s exhausted by you. “anyway,” she nods towards the blonde beside her. “i just came to say i’m leaving.”

“already?” you pout.

abby shrugs, “mission accomplished.”

the girl laughs again and hides her face in abby‘s shoulder. you shake your head, exasperated but smiling.

“of course.”

abby steps closer, leaning towards you like she’s about to whisper something— then very obviously glances at ellie again.

“you good here?” she asks, voice thick with sarcasm.

you narrow your eyes and shove her away lightly, she raises a hand innocently.

“such a brat. just checking.”

“out.” you laugh, pointing towards the door.

ellie watches the two of you with a crooked, drunken grin.

abby claps a hand on your shoulder, “alright…” she turns to head out, the blonde still tucked under her arm. “don’t do anything i wouldn’t do!”

“that’s a terrible standard.”

“the point still stands!”

she keeps walking, dragging the drunk, giggling blonde toward the door; halfway through the doorway, she turns around one more time and points at ellie.

“nice meeting you, dragon girl.”

“abby!”

her laugh echoes through the room before the front door slams behind her.

“i’m gonna kill her.”

“she seems… pleasant.” ellie says carefully.

“she’s something…” you mumble.

there’s a small pause then ellie lifts her head towards you, “so…” your eyes are glassy now, a little red around the edges, half-lidded and hazy.

“what’s the third rule?”

you blink, “huh?”

“pfft—“ ellie sputters. “the rules?” she smiles lazily. “you said there were 3.”

you just stare blankly, and she knows you had absolutely forgotten about them. ellie realizes it in real time and immediately starts laughing.

“no, stop! i’m thinking!” you protest, pointing your finger at her like it somehow proves your point.

“alright,” she says, patient in the most sarcastic way possible. “take your time.”

you narrow your eyes at her.

“i’m just saying,” ellie shrugs, smile still lingering. “these rules don’t seem very organized.”

“they’re vibes-based.” you argue.

that makes her laugh again, her shoulders shaking; she ducks her head, slightly embarrassed by how hard she’s laughing. you grab the bottle again and pour two more shots— ellie perks up immediately.

“oh?”

you slide one toward her. “rule number 3…” she picks up her cup, eyebrows raised. “no leaving early.”

ellie studies you for a second, glances back towards the door, then a slow smile spreads across her face. “is that rule for everyone? or just me?”

you grin and take your shot, “just you.”

the next hour blurs together fast, once you pull her into the living room, the party sort of… swallows you both. ellie ends up glued to your side, whether she means to or not.

someone shouts your name and drags you towards the coffee table where a drinking game is going down. ellie slides in next to you on the floor, one knee pulled up, smirking in amusement as you argue loudly with two football players about the game rules.

“dude, that is not how you play!”

“y/n, what are you talking about? it definitely is.”

ellie leans over and mutters, “pretty sure they’re cheating.”

you gasp and point accusingly, “i knew it!”

the table erupts into shouting again. a few rounds later, ellie loses something she didn’t even realize she was playing, forced to take two shots while you laugh so hard you nearly tip over sideways.

“this is a scam.” she says, wiping her mouth.

“you’re doing great.” you assure.

at some point, the game ends, and you move up to the couch. the liquid courage coursing through your veins making you bolder; you let your legs tangle with ellie’s. but it’s not long before leah appears, tugging at your arm, and hauling you up.

“dance floor, captain!”

you protest weekly, but let yourself be dragged toward the middle of the room where a loose cluster of people are swaying to music. ellie stays on the couch at first, watching you intently, her arms folded, and another drink in hand.

halfway through the song, you can’t resist, and weave your way over to her again, “up.”

“no way, i don’t dance.”

“too bad.” you grab her hand and pull.

she resists poorly for about a half a second, then she’s standing there awkwardly while you laugh at her lack of coordination.

“relax…” you giggle softly. you turn around and lean back into ellie’s chest, guiding her hands to your hips.

she freezes for a second, you think she may have stopped breathing; your world, and hers, narrows to the feeing of you pressed against her.

“see?” you breathe. “not that hard.”

ellie clears her throat, “yeah… super easy.”

her hands stay where you put them, you can feel her fingers flexing against your sides. you start to sway with the music, pulling her with you.

after a second, you feel her loosen up a little— not much, but enough she’s not standing like a statue anymore.

“look at you… dancing.” you tease.

she shakes her head and yours tips back against her shoulder— she’s trying very hard not to think about how close you are.

“i think we’re swaying more than dancing.”

“i’ll count it.”

once leah disappears, you and ellie make your way back over to the couch; you’re barely sitting down before nora is standing in front of you.

“who’s this?” she nods towards ellie, smirking dangerously.

“this… is ellie.” you say carefully.

nora wiggles her eyebrows before walking over to the kitchen where leah is calling for her, “i’m sure i’ll be seeing you around, ellie.”

you shoot nora a glare, but she ignores you as she saunters into the kitchen.

ellie doesn’t say anything, just smirks into her drink.

by the time the clock creeps past 3am, the party starts thinning out. people trickle toward the door in small clusters, the music is turned down, someone is passed out half on the couch half on the floor, the kitchen looks like a crime scene of plastic cups and empty bottles.

ellie ends up sitting on the arm of the couch, comfortably drunk now. one foot is hooked against the couch cushion while you stand between her knees, talking to leah and nora.

they’re teasing you. relentlessly.

“our fearless captain is wasted.” leah announces to a dwindling audience.

“this is actually very rare.” nora adds.

you shove leah lightly, “i am not drunk.”

ellie mutters just loud enough: “you’re definitely drunk.”

you whip around and point at her, “traitor.”

she grins— also very drunk.

another 20 minutes pass, more people filter out, and eventually the apartment settles into a much smaller group; just you, ellie, leah, and nora. the music is still playing softly, but the chaotic energy of the party has faded into something slower and way more calm.

leah stretches and yawns dramatically, checking her phone, “okay,” she sighs. i’m calling it.”

nora nods towards the hallway and stands up, “me too. i have yoga in the morning.”

you puff out a breath, “okay, text me when you get back home?”

they mumble agreements before disappearing into the kitchen, arguing about water and leftover pizza.

when the front door slams, for the first time all night, you and ellie are alone. she leans back into the cushions, head tipping slightly as she studies the room; it’s in utter disarray.

then she glances at you; and a slow, crooked smile spreads across her face. “so…” her gaze falls briefly to your lips, before snapping back up to your eyes like it was an accident. “is rule number 3 still in effect?”

“oh, absolutely. there is no leaving early.”

she squints and looks around theatrically, “it looks to me…like the party’s over.”

“maybe it’s not over for me…” you whisper, leaning forward.

ellie’s smile falters, just for a second, but the mischievous glint in her eyes stays. she leans in closer too, now sharing the same breath; your heart is racing, fast and uneven. “and what does that mean? cheerleader…” her voice is low, teasing, just slightly breathless.

“there’s a reason rule number 3 only applied to you.”

her eyes widen, and before she can respond, you press your lips to hers. it’s slow at first, gentle— like you’re testing the waters. she melts against you, tilting her head as her hand slides around to the back of your neck.

the couch seems to shrink around you, so you climb into her lap, straddling her thighs. ellie’s hands are quick to find your waist, squeezing the exposed there.

her lips are warm and slightly chapped, it’s more intoxicating than anything you’ve ingested tonight. every nerve in your body is vibrating as you lean closer, pushing your chest against hers, tangling your fingers in her hair. ellie lets out a soft grunt against your lips before she takes control unexpectedly and deepens the kiss.

her hands grip your hips tighter, her fingers digging into your skin hard enough to make you gasp into her mouth. she takes that as an invitation to slip her tongue slips past your lips, exploring the taste of cheap liquor and something unique to you. the kiss is no longer gentle, it’s hungry and desperate. a collision of teeth and tongue that’s been building all night.

you rock against her, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. the thin fabric of your panties under your skirt does nothing to separate you from the rough denim of her jeans.

ellie breaks the kiss, panting, and kissing down your neck, “fuck—“ she breathes.

you whimper, grinding down harder; your hands sliding down from her hair to her chest, feeling the rapid beat of her heart through her worn t-shirt. ellie’s hands start guiding your movements, and you’re savoring in the way she shudders beneath you.

your dorm is quiet except for your ragged breaths and the music still playing in the background.

one of ellie’s hands moves to your thighs, fingers stroking the sensitive skin there. she pushes your skirt up, exposing more of you to the dim light. her eyes roam over your body, taking in the lacy underwear you chose tonight— and how there’s doubt a growing wet patch leaking through the fabric.

“of course you’d wear something like this,” her voice thick with admiration. “always so perfect.”

you lean down, your lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “not so perfect right now.” you whine, nipping at her earlobe. “i’m a mess, ellie. and it’s all your fault.”

she chuckles, a low, throaty sound that vibrates through your entire body, “good.”

with a swift movement, she flips you onto your back, hovering above you. the change in position sends a thrill through you— this hot, confident woman is nothing like the awkward nerd you invited here earlier this week.

her mouth finds your neck again, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. you arch into her, fisting your hands into her shirt. she bites down gently, just enough to make you whimper.

“ellie…” you gasp, hips rising to meet hers. “please…”

she pulls back, eyes meeting yours. “please what?” she asks with a smirk, already knowing exactly what you want.

“touch me,” you beg. “i need it.”

“gladly.”

her hands slip under your shirt, pulling it off to expose your breasts. she takes her time, fingers tracing the edges of your bra until you’re squirming. when she finally reaches behind you and unclasps it, the cool air makes you moan; it pebbles your nipples as goosebumps flare across your skin.

the warmth of her mouth follows immediately, taking one nipple between her lips and sucking gently. your back arches off the couch, a louder moan ripping from your throat. after a minute, she switches to the other breast, giving it the same attention while her hand slides below your waistband.

you’re so unbelievably wet it’s uncomfortable, she groans when she feels it. “holy, fuck— you been thinking about this all night?”

you can only manage a desperate nod, your hips bucking up into her touch. the feeling of her fingers so close, hovering just above your folds, is absolutely maddening.

“words.” ellie murmurs against your skin, her voice a low broken rumble. she nips at the swell of your breast, a possessive bite that makes you gasp. “i wanna hear you say it.”

“yes!” you choke out, fingers gripping the fabric of the couch cushions. “god yes, since you walked in. since i first saw you.”

a triumphant, wicked little grin spreads across her face and she finally rewards you. her fingers slide down through your slick folds and the initial contact makes your whole body twitch.

“fuck…” she groans again, the sound raw and awed. she circles your entrance once, twice, teasing; gathering your arousal on her fingertips. “you’re drenched, cheerleader. soaked right through these panties.”

“ellie, please,” you beg shamelessly. the need is a burning, desperate thing inside of you. “no more teasing. i need it. i need you, please…”

her eyes, dark and blown with lust, lock onto yours.

“ssshhh, i know.” she slowly, tortuously, sinks one finger inside you. your breath hitches at the soft stretch, the way your body instantly clenches around her, trying to pull her deeper.

“so tight.” she whispers almost to herself. ellie starts a steady rhythm, her thumb finding your clit, circling in a way that makes your eyes roll back.

you’re a mess of whimpers and moans, rocking your hips to meet her thrusts, chasing. but it’s not enough, you need more.

“more, ellie.” you gasp.

she adds a second finger and the feeling makes you cry out. she picks up the pace, her fingers pumping in and out of you with a confidence that makes heat bloom in your belly.

her thumb works against your clit in tight, consistent circles— it pushes you closer and closer to the edge. “that’s it…” she coaxes, her voice husky. “feels good, huh?”

her words are the beginning of the end, “s— so good ellie.” your walls are fluttering, your thighs trembling. “don’t stop.”

“you gonna cum all over my fingers?”

your hands reach up, clutching the front of her jacket, “yes! please, please? can i cum, ellie?” you plead, your eyes silently begging.

ellie feels like she’s gonna die. her stomach clenching impossibly tight, her own slick flooding her boxers. no one has ever begged for her like this before. she feels like she can’t breathe.

“jesus— go ahead, cum for me.”

the coil of pleasure in your abdomen snaps and your orgasm crashes over you with brutal intensity. you cry out her name as the pressure mounts, your walls clamping down on her fingers as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over you.

ellie doesn’t stop, her ministrations slow, but don’t stop; drawing out your climax until your whimpering and trembling underneath her. only when you go limp, completely spent, does she gently withdraw her fingers.

you watch through hooded lids and hazy vision as she lifts them to her lips. her eyes don’t leave yours as she licks them clean, groaning in pure satisfaction.

“even better than i imagined.”

ellie leans down again, capturing your lips in a deep, possessive kiss. you can taste yourself on her tongue and it only fuels the fire still smoldering in your veins. your hands, which had been limp at your sides, come alive, pushing her jacket off her shoulders and tugging at the hem of her shirt impatiently.

“can i make you feel good, ellie?”

she shrugs off her jacket and lets you pull her shirt over her head, revealing the pale, freckled skin of her torso and the simple black sports bra she wears.

you push her shoulders back gently until she’s lying against the couch cushions, you straddling her waist. ellie’s eyes are fixed on you, wide and dark with anticipation.

you latch your lips to the skin on her neck, bunching up the bottom of her sports bra as ellie helps you pry it off. you toss it aside, drinking in the full sight of her— she watches your eyes track her body with her lip between her teeth.

you kiss down her chest, pausing briefly before taking one of her nipples in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the hardened peak. ellie inhales sharply, her hands tangling in your hair.

you give her other breast similar attention before descending lower, your lips tracing the abs that hide under her baggy clothing. you settle between her legs, your hands resting on the tops of her thighs. you sit back on your heels and slowly unbutton her jeans, working down the zipper.

she lifts her hips to help you, kicking them off the rest of the way after you drag them down. and finally, all that’s left is her boxers, she’s more than sure they’re already darkened with arousal. when you look up at her from under your lashes, fingers hooking under the waistband, ellie’s cunt clenches.

“can i?” you ask innocently.

“god, yes…” she breathes tossing her head back, voice strained.

she feels you pull them down and her heat is fully bared to you— she’s soaked, flushed with desire. the cool air hits her overheated skin and ellie releases a shaky breath.

you don’t let her feel self-conscious, you lean in, not touching yet, but breathing her in; the anticipation is sweet torture. her body is thrumming with it, every nerve fiber alight and waiting. then, your tongue is on her.

it’s a single, slow stripe from her entrance to her clit, and the sensation is so overwhelming that a choked sound tears from her throat. her hips jerk involuntarily off the couch; so you repeat your movement, establishing a rhythm that has her writhing in seconds.

you focus your attention on her clit, sucking it gently in your mouth, and flicking it with your tongue.

“shit, right there.” she gasps, her grip on your hair tightening, holding you in place. “don’t stop.”

you have zero intentions of doing so. you slide two fingers inside her, groaning against her heat, the vibration makes her shiver. you curl your fingers, searching for that velvety spot that’ll make her fall apart: when you find it she lets out a string of curses and her spine bows.

you work against her incessantly, your mouth and fingers moving in a sinful tandem. she’s already getting close, her breath coming out in rough pants.

her head is thrown back against the couch. her mouth open, but no sounds come out, just silent gasps for air. the muscles of her thighs are quivering where they rest over your shoulders. she’s so close, you can taste it in the air, feel it in the frantic way her body moves.

“come on, el.” you purr against her, your voice muffled by her slick folds. you curl your fingers hard against that sweet spot, and hold them there; her whole body tenses. “i wanna feel you cum on my face.”

that filthy, desperate plea shatters any control she was clinging to. a broken moan is torn from her chest, her hands fist in your hair so tightly it almost hurts. her eyes which had been squeezed shut, fly open and lock onto yours; the raw, unadulterated need you see there makes your own cunt throb.

“please,” she whimpers, the sound is fractured and desperate. the power of it is addictive. “please… i’m so close…”

you double down, working your tongue against her in tight circles, pumping your fingers faster, curling harder. you hit that spot inside her over and over again; her body coils tighter and tighter, a spring bound to snap.

her breath comes out in sharp puffs; thighs shaking uncontrollably. the world narrows to a single, blinding point of sensation. the deep pressure building inside her finally snaps, and pleasure hits her like a lightning strike.

ellie chokes a broken cry of your name as her body seizes. her back arches violently off the couch and her thighs clamp around your head in an unintentionally tight grip.

you don’t let up, your mouth and fingers working against her, milking every last drop. ellie’s frantic curses dissolve into breathless cries and moans. the slick of her arousal coates your fingers and floods your mouth. you groan against her, the vibrations only prolonging her pleasure.

it feels endless, threatening to pull her under. ellie’s mind goes blank; wiped clean of everything but the feeling of your mouth, your fingers, and the overwhelming sensations consuming her from the inside out.

agonizingly, the intensity begins to ebb. her violent shudders transitioning to gentle trembles, the iron grip on your hair loosening. one of her legs falls limply off your shoulder, her body going pliant against the couch cushions. her chest is heaving as she desperately tries to pull air into her lungs, her skin is flushed and gleaming with a thin layer of sweat.

you give her one last possessive taste before slowly withdrawing your fingers. she looks down at you between her legs, taking in the sight below her.

you’re absolutely breathtaking—and just gave her the most insane orgasm she’s ever fucking had.

“okay…” she breathes as you crawl back up her body. “rule number 3 is officially my favorite.”

you huff a tired laugh, collapsing beside her on the couch. the adrenaline from the night finally starts draining out of both of you until nothing is left but heavy limbs and the warm fog the alcohol left behind.

ellie groans softly, dragging an arm over her face. “holy shit…”

your grin lazily and poke at her side, “dramatic.”

she snorts quietly, the sound traveling softly through your dorm. it’s quiet now, the music turned off at some point during the chaos, leaving only the low hum of the refrigerator and a faint ringing in your ears.

ellie turns her head towards you, you’re already half curled into her side without thinking. she grabs her t-shirt off the floor and hands it to you, “here, put this on…”

you don’t have the energy to argue, tugging it over your head, the fabric hanging just above your skirt from earlier— it smells like ellie, which makes your already fuzzy brain even mushier.

you grab a blanket from behind the couch while ellie pulls on her sports bra and boxers with the coordination of someone very drunk and very tired. you both flop back on the couch and you toss the blanket over the both your bodies. you shift closer absentmindedly, curling into her side again.

ellie glances down again, draping an arm loosely around you; exhaustion hits even faster when the warmth of your skin settles against hers.

“hey…” you murmur.

“mhm?” ellie hums as her eyes close.

“you’re comfy.”

she snorts quietly as you burrow deeper into her, it fades into a yawn that she doesn’t try to hide. a few seconds pass, then you mumble something completely incoherent into her shoulder.

“…what?” ellie asks, blinking her eyes open.

you don’t answer, you’re already out. ellie stares at the ceiling for another minute, her eyes getting heavier until they finally close on their own. her arm tightens around you as she dozes off.

and a few moments later, she’s asleep too.

saturday morning

bang. bang. bang.

your head is pounding. that’s the first thing you notice.

the second is warmth pressed against your back and arms wrapped around you.

the third is a loud banging.

you groan softly, burying your face deeper into the couch cushion, trying to escape the sunlight stabbing directly through your eyelids from the window.

the banging grows louder and your eyes crack open. you blink slowly, trying to remember where you are.

the couch. your living room. the party. and ellie—

oh.

your brain moves a little faster now.

you lift your head; hair a mess, make up probably smudged to all hell. the blanket slides down your shoulder as you sit up, and that’s when you realize you’re wearing a shirt that’s definitely not yours. the oversized fabric hangs crooked, barely covering the skirt you apparently never changed out of.

bang. bang. bang.

“OPEN UP!”

you freeze. it’s abby.

you glance down beside you, ellie’s still passed out, under the blanket with one arm still loose around your waist. her hair is a disaster and she’s in nothing but a sports bra and boxer shorts.

your stomach twists.

“ellie…” you whisper hoarsely, nudging her shoulder.

she groans immediately and drags the blanket up over her face, “no…” she grumbles.

bang. bang. bang.

“HELLO??”

you wince.

“ellie.” you whisper again, shaking her a little harder.

one green eye finally squints open. “is someone trying to break in?” she mutters.

“it’s abby.”

both her eyes are open now, “…oh.”

another loud knock rattles the door and before you can even swing your legs off the couch— abby bursts in like a hurricane.

“okay, sorry!” she shouts towards the bedroom you are not in. “i left my—“

she stops mid-step. her eyes land on the couch. on you and ellie. on the blanket you’re sharing. on the fact you’re wearing ellie’s shirt from last night. on the fact that ellie is certainly not dressed for company.

the silence stretches for full 3 seconds. then abby slowly lifts her brows. you sink back into the couch and pull the blanket higher instinctively.

she plants her hands on her hips, looking wildly pleased with herself. “good morning.” she says brightly.

sorry i know nothing about dnd… i read like 6 reddit posts, watched a youtube video, and asked one my clients at work so… this is my best effort…

i thought about putting ellie in a band since i’m not well versed in dnd lore, but that doesn’t exactly scream loser vibes to me……….

NOT SAYING DND IS LOSER VIBES EITHER!!! but…

anyways… requests are open even if they take me 85 years to get to :D

i definitely set this for a part two i might get to… one day…

thanks for reading <333

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