spicedcherrylolli

[spicedcherrylolli]

CHAPTER THREE: PARANOIA.

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

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

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

SUBMARINE; MASTERLIST.

The movie had been Ellie’s pick—some indie film with washed-out colors and long silences, the kind where everything was a metaphor for something no one says out loud.

She had pressed play with that excited glint in her eye, telling you “You’re gonna love this one, trust me.”

You did trust her.

You always did.

You were curled into her side on the couch, blanket over both of your legs, her arm around you—but it felt more like muscle memory than intention.

Ellie hadn’t said much since the movie started, and you had spent the last thirty minutes trying to find the right moment, to ask the question that had been chewing a hole in your chest for the past two weeks.

It felt stupid, and maybe a little desperate.

But it had been three months, almost four.

You weren’t asking for fireworks or some perfect title.

You just wanted to know when—if ever—you were going to be Ellie’s girlfriend.

You turned to her, slow and cautious. “Hey, els—can I ask you—?”

Her phone buzzed.

Ellie flinched, and then immediately sat up, untangling from the blanket like she’d been waiting for an excuse.

“Shit—sorry, one sec. I gotta take this.”

You blinked. “Now?”

“It’ll just be a minute.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Sorry— I promise.”

Before you could say anything else, she stood, grabbing her phone and slipping onto the small balcony of her apartment.

The glass door slid shut with a soft click.

And you sat there, mid-sentence, hands curled into the blanket.

It wasn’t late, just past nine.

Whoever was calling didn’t feel like a work emergency, or like a casual check-in from Jesse or Dina.

You watched her through the glass—Ellie turning her back to the living room, phone pressed to her ear, her posture easing as she smiled.

Not just polite, and not just casual.

A real smile.

Your throat tightened.

She used to take those calls next to you—on the couch, your legs draped over hers, her voice lazy and open.

She used to show you her sketchbook without being asked, flipping through pages with pen-stained fingers and watching your reaction like it mattered more than the work itself.

Now?

She barely mentioned her new pieces.

Said she was “busy,” or that Joel had been piling on too much at the shop.

Said she’d show you when it was done.

Always later.

Lately, everything was later.

Even you.

You didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

You didn’t want to be that person.

But Juni’s voice echoed in your head like a warning you didn't want to hear.

“She’s trying to get with Ellie”

You had brushed it off.

Said Ellie was just being nice.

That she didn’t notice Cat’s looks, her lingering attention, and her casually layered compliments whenever Ellie talked about her art.

But now—watching Ellie smile like that while hiding on the balcony, after dodging your question like it didn’t even matter—something ugly and cold began to settle in your chest.

The indie film kept playing, untouched.

Onscreen, two characters were quietly falling apart in a sun-drenched room.

The movie had almost ended by the time Ellie came back inside.

You heard the balcony door slide open before you looked, her feet light against the floor as she stepped in, rubbing the back of her neck.

She had that same easy smile on her face—careful, practiced—but her eyes didn’t quite meet yours.

“Sorry,” Ellie said, sliding her phone into her back pocket. “That was Joel. He’s at the shop trying to close up and forgot how to run the register, again.”

You gave her a short nod, not looking up from the screen.

The film had moved into its last ten minutes—one of those long, drawn-out sequences with soft music and no dialogue.

You couldn’t recap a single thing.

Ellie dropped back onto the couch, noticeably farther from you now.

Not across the room, not dramatic—just a little space between you that hadn’t been there before.

She leaned back into the cushions with a soft sigh, stretching her arms behind her head.

“So,” she said, trying to make her voice sound light. “What’d I miss?”

You let out a soft shrug. “Some sad montage. Someone cried, and probably some metaphors.”

Ellie laughed under her breath. “Damn, knew I’d regret it.”

You still didn’t look at her.

Shimmer had hopped up beside you during the lull, curling into your side.

You ran your fingers through the cat’s fur slowly, eyes fixed on the screen, your body stretched out along the couch—just far enough to avoid leaning into Ellie’s side again.

Then, after a moment;

“Hey… what were you gonna ask earlier? Before Joel called?”

You blinked, your stomach sinking.

Ellie turned her head towards you, but you could feel she wasn’t really pushing—just curious, distracted.

Like she knew there’d been something, but didn’t think it mattered much now.

You hesitated for a moment, then shook your head, voice low. “Nothing, wasn't that important.”

Ellie hummed like she accepted that, even though she didn’t ask again.

You turned back to the screen, letting the soft, melancholic soundtrack fill the silence.

One of the characters on screen was standing alone in an empty room, staring at a window like they were waiting for someone who was never going to come back.

+

It felt like a relief, finally having Ellie back beside you.

You’d missed her—missed this.

The slow, easy way she draped her arm over the back of the couch while you leaned into her side, the way she laughed too hard at Jesse’s dumb impressions, how her fingers brushed against yours on instinct when she passed you the joint.

After weeks of “Sorry, shop’s slammed,” and “Joel’s got me on inventory again,” the stretch of time between now and the last time you saw her like this had been long enough to start to feel like a gap.

But she was here now.

You were with Dina and Jesse again, curled up in their cramped apartment, the familiar scent of weed filling the space while Jesse's lo-fi playlist played low through his speaker.

You’d ordered too much food for delivery, and as always, Jesse had suggested movie night but no one had touched the remote in over an hour

You were mid-laugh at one of Dina’s stories when she turned to Ellie with a grin, waving a pretzel for emphasis.

“By the way, that tattoo you gave Cat? So sick. That shading on the horns? You’re disgusting.”

You blinked. Smile fading just slightly.

Ellie, who had just taken a sip from her drink, swallowed and nodded casually. “Oh—yeah. She sat like a champ actually, it was pretty hot.”

('Hot'?..What the fuck?)

Your brows pulled together a little, your voice quiet. “Wait… you tattooed Cat?”

Ellie glanced at you. “Oh, yeah. Last week, I think? I was gonna show you the sketch, I just—haven’t gone through the book in a bit. I’ve got all my ideas in there.”

Your mouth was suddenly dry.

Dina kept talking, completely unaware. “It’s, like, this full blackwork goat—just line and shading, clean as hell. Honestly, I kind of want something in that style now.”

You nodded along, slow, the edges of the couch pressing harder into your back than they had been a moment ago.

(So that's why she hadn't opened the sketchbook around you in weeks.)

The one she always used to share.

The one she’d promised—”you’ll see it when it’s done.”

Jesse glanced between you and Ellie once, subtle but sharp-eyed.

You didn’t notice.

You were too busy suddenly trying to remember what night it had been.

What you were doing.

What you were told by Ellie.

He cleared his throat and stood up, stretching with an exaggerated groan. “Yo, food’s downstairs, right? Hey, mind helping me grab it?”

You blinked. “Oh—uh, yeah. Sure.”

You followed him into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind you as he hit the stairwell, his voice low but gentle as he slowed to your pace.

“You okay?”

You kept your eyes on the steps. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

Jesse gave a dry chuckle. “That was a very convincing 'yeah'.”

You didn’t answer right away.

Just wrapped your arms around yourself a little tighter.

He looked at you again, more serious now. “You didn’t know about Cat’s tattoo appointment with Ellie, huh?”

You shook your head. “Not a clue.”

Jesse sighed. “I mean, it’s probably nothing, but… you two feel a little off lately. Ellie’s been a little weird, right?”

You looked up, something bitter curling at the edge of your mouth. “She’s just been busy.”

He raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything.

You kept walking.

And in the silence that followed, you realized; it wasn’t just Ellie who’d gone quiet.

It was you, too—quietly waiting, quietly hoping.

And quietly wondering when you’d start to feel like hers again.

+

The shop bell chimed softly overhead as you stepped inside—hands in your pockets, the familiar scent of antiseptic and warm wood wrapping around you like second nature.

You hadn’t texted first.

Ellie always told you not to bother. “Just come by. Doesn’t matter when.”

It was supposed to be a good surprise.

The front of the shop was quiet, blinds half-closed against the afternoon glare, music low and pulsing in the background.

No one behind the desk.

No sound of machines buzzing.

Then, through the divider curtain—half pulled, half-forgotten—you saw them.

Ellie was standing between Cat’s legs, the two of them tucked into the corner of her station like they had the right to be there.

Her hand was under Cat’s shirt, fingers curled lightly against her skin in a way that was so familiar it made your stomach twist.

That was your place.

And that was your Ellie.

They were kissing—slow, like the world had paused around them, like it was a habit.

You stopped in the doorway, stunned into silence.

The bell still echoed faintly overhead.

“I should probably go check who that is,” Ellie muttered against Cat’s mouth, her voice low, breathless—soft in that way you knew too well.

The one she used only when she was comfortable.

Relaxed.

Intimate.

Cat hummed lazily, her hands on Ellie’s hips. “Just another walk-in?”

Ellie chuckled faintly and pulled back just enough to rest her forehead against Cat’s. “I’ll be right back, promise.”

She turned towards the front.

Still smiling.

Still flushed.

Still carrying that post-kiss softness in her expression.

Then her eyes landed on you.

And everything stopped.

Her breath hitched like someone had punched it out of her.

And her face dropped—smile collapsing, posture stiffening, hands falling like they didn’t know where to go.

You didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t blink.

Ellie opened her mouth.

Nothing came out at first.

Then, choked, raw—barely above a whisper;

“Baby—”

Her voice cracked halfway through it.

You stared at her like she wasn’t real.

Like none of it was.

Ellie stepped forward fast—too fast, panic rising in her chest as if momentum alone could undo what you saw.

Her voice stumbled out in pieces, half-excuses tripping over each other.

“Wait—wait, it’s not what it looks like, I—she just—Cat was just—” Her hands hovered mid-air, like she didn’t know whether to reach for you or bury her face in them.

You didn’t say anything.

Didn’t need to.

The silence said enough.

The way your eyes didn’t fill with rage—just with something far worse.

The way you didn’t cry or yell or ask why.

You just looked at her like something in you had quietly died.

“No, please, just—listen, okay?” Ellie begged, voice cracking now as she moved around the counter like she might catch you before you slipped away.

“It didn’t mean anything. I wasn’t—fuck, I wasn’t thinking, alright?”

You took a slow step backwards, your eyes still locked on her, rimmed with something distant.

Shaking your head—once, small, final.

A gesture not of disbelief, but of recognition.

You believed her.

And that’s what hurt the most.

She was exactly who you were afraid she’d be.

“Don’t,” you whispered, barely loud enough to cut through her frantic breathing. “Just… don’t.”

Another step back, and your hand found the door without looking.

Ellie’s voice broke completely. “Please.”

You didn’t stop.

You just turned and walked through the door, the bell above it chiming one last time.

+

(Now, you were here. Why the fuck did you let Ellie in?)

She stood just inside the door like she didn’t know whether to run or collapse, chest rising and falling fast, jaw clenched so tight it looked like it hurt.

You stayed planted where you were—back near the kitchen, arms crossed, as if the counter could keep you upright.

Your heart had been pounding since you saw her at the shop.

Since you saw them.

“I didn’t mean for you to find out like that,” Ellie started, voice shaking. “I didn’t even know—I wasn’t thinking, alright?”

“You never are,” you shot back, sharp and immediate. “That’s the problem.”

Ellie winced like you’d hit her. “You don’t get it. You never fucking get it.”

(What the fuck was she talking about?)

“I saw you, Ellie,” you snarled, stepping forward. “Saw your hand under her shirt like it belonged there, like it used to belong to me.”

“It didn’t mean anything,” Ellie said too fast, too defensively.

“Oh, fuck you,” you snapped, voice rising, raw. “Don’t insult me with that.”

Her fists clenched, her face flushing deep with something between shame and rage. “You don’t know what it’s like to be with someone like you.”

You stopped cold. “Someone like me?”

Ellie’s hands shot up, hair falling into her face as she paced in a sharp circle.

“You hover, okay? You cling. You’re always there. Always wanting to talk, always wanting to fucking understand everything. I can’t breathe without feeling like I owe you something—like I’m supposed to be your goddamn redemption arc.”

Your mouth dropped open. “I just loved you, Ellie.”

“No,” she shouted. “You smothered me. You’re like a fucking parasite. Always needing more—more answers, more commitment, more goddamn validation! And I tried, I really fucking tried, but every time you asked for more, I felt like I was disappearing.”

You staggered back like she’d struck you.

You actually put a hand to your chest, trying to calm the ache blooming there.

“I never asked you to disappear,” you whispered, eyes glassy.

“I asked you to show up.”

Ellie faltered, breath hitching.

“I waited,” you continued, voice shaking now.

“I waited for you to call me your girlfriend. I waited for you to feel safe. I waited through every phone call you took outside. Every time you brushed me off. Every sketchbook you closed in my face. I waited because I believed you. Because when you looked me in the eyes that night at yours and said I was perfect, I thought you meant it.”

“I did,” Ellie whispered, voice cracking.

“But you still chose her.”

“I didn’t choose anyone!” she exploded. “I chose to fucking breathe! And yeah, maybe I kissed her, maybe I let it happen, but it was because for once I didn’t feel like I was failing someone just by fucking being me!”

You stared at her, your entire body trembling. “So that’s what I was to you? A job? A project? Something to fail?”

Ellie turned away, hands shaking. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you said quietly. “You meant it enough to say it.”

Silence crashed between you—thick, suffocating.

Ellie turned back to you, eyes desperate now, rimmed with tears. “Please,” she whispered, voice broken. “I don’t know how to fix this. Just tell me what to say.”

You shook your head, tears finally spilling. “There’s nothing left to say.”

Ellie stood there like she didn’t hear you—or like she couldn’t afford to believe it.

Her shoulders were trembling now, fists clenched at her sides, and her voice nothing but shredded nerves when she spoke again.

“I can fix this,” she insisted, stepping towards you. “Please—just give me a chance. I know I fucked up, I know I said shit I didn’t mean, but I can fix this.”

You didn’t move.

She ran a hand down her face, already spiraling deeper than before.

“The candy, the flowers—I know that shit was dumb, I know it doesn’t make up for anything, but I didn’t know what else to do. You weren’t answering me, and I panicked, I—fuck—I didn’t want to lose you.”

“You did lose me,” you said, voice low and raw. “The moment you called me a fucking parasite, Ellie.”

Ellie’s face crumpled, like she’d heard the words for the first time.

“I didn’t mean that. I was scared. I was cornered. You were right there and I didn’t know how to explain myself, and it just came out. I didn’t mean it, I swear to god.”

“You don’t get to walk back everything because you’re scared now,” you said, tears sliding down your face.

“You said it. You looked me in the eye and said I smothered you. Like loving you was something ugly that I did.”

Ellie’s breath hitched, her voice splintering. “It’s not. You loving me was the only good thing I had. You—you were the good thing. I just didn’t know how to hold it without ruining it.”

You let out a soft, bitter laugh. “So you went and proved yourself right.”

Ellie was crying now, silently, her chest rising and falling like she couldn’t catch her breath.

“I didn’t want to prove anything. I just—I wanted space, I wanted clarity, I wanted you and I wanted room to breathe and I didn’t know how to ask for both. And I fucked it all up. But I swear to you, I will do whatever it takes to make it right.”

You shook your head. “Even if you could fix this, you can’t erase it. I saw the look on your face when you kissed her. I saw what it looked like when you didn’t have to try.”

Ellie’s knees almost buckled. She covered her mouth, eyes wide, broken open. “Please,” she whispered.

“Don’t give up on me, don't let this be the end.”

You looked at her—really looked at her.

This person you once thought would carry your heart like it was sacred.

The same person who, now, was begging for another shot while standing in the wreckage she made herself.

Author's note: heyyy...how y'all doing. What did we think?? I know the timeline can feel a bit confusing but I am creating a timeline graph for each scene or event that happens in the fic. I will show it to you guys around chapter 4, where it'll come into play, TRUSTT. I'm literally updating submarine LIVE from a party, LIKE ON MY PHONE. And a little drunk.

TAGLIST:

@mayfldss @sewithinsouls @iadorefineshyt @safficoon @panic4sage @modernvenuss @re1daway @bluminescent-moon @valeisaslut

LMK IF YOU WANNA BE ON THE TAGKLIST.

[spicedcherrylolli]

CHAPTER TWO: A DREAM WITH A BASEBALL PLAYER.

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

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

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

SUBMARINE; MASTERLIST.

It had been almost a month since that first, clumsy, perfect kiss on Ellie’s couch.

Thirty days of late-night texts turned into sleepovers, of movie marathons and half-finished sketchbook doodles, of Ellie tracing lines along your thigh absentmindedly while you scrolled on your phone, of her cat Shimmer slowly, begrudgingly tolerating your presence.

Things were easy—fun.

A honeymoon phase wrapped in oversized hoodies, inside jokes, and frequent takeout.

Nothing official, but it felt… real.

Like something you could grow into.

So when Ellie invited you to a basement party, you didn’t hesitate to accept.

The basement smelled like weed, sweat, and spilled beer—typical college party mix—but it somehow still felt bearable tucked away in a couch corner where the music wasn’t too loud.

You could hear the bass thumping above, rattling empty bottles on the nearby table, but it was distant enough to talk over.

Ellie plopped down first, spreading her legs a bit too wide and slouching back like she owned the place.

She tugged you down beside her with a casual arm wrapped around your shoulders, squeezing your side briefly before letting her hand rest comfortably.

Her hoodie smelled like the laundry detergent you’d started to recognize from her apartment—warm, a little woodsy.

“You ever been to one of these before?” she asked, leaning towards you with a grin. “Like, a real frat party?”

You gave her a look. “Does surviving a high school graduation party in someone’s backyard count?”

Ellie laughed, bumping her shoulder into yours. “Close enough.”

Before you could say anything else, two figures swooped in from the crowd, dodging a guy carrying an armful of cheap light beers.

“There she is,” Dina announced, grinning like she was about to start trouble. “Ellie Williams in the flesh, dragging the mysterious lover into public at last.”

Jesse followed behind her, sipping from a red cup. “Careful, Dina. You’re gonna scare her off before the night even starts.”

Ellie rolled her eyes dramatically. “Jesus, can't even sit down without getting roasted.”

Dina dropped into a lopsided armchair across from you both, legs slung over the side like she lived there.

Jesse perched on the edge of the couch’s armrest beside her, already reaching for a half-finished snack bowl on the end table.

“You know we only roast you because you never bring people to parties,” Jesse added with a teasing smirk.

“I bring people,” Ellie protested, reaching into her hoodie pocket. “I just don’t parade them around.”

Dina pointed her drink at you. “So what makes this one different, huh?”

You laughed nervously, caught in the spotlight, but Ellie waved a hand like she was batting away a fly. “Relax, we’ve just been hanging out.”

Jesse raised an eyebrow. “Right, ‘just hanging out’ for, what, three weeks now?”

“Almost four,” Ellie said offhandedly, pulling out a joint and patting her pockets for a lighter.

You leaned into her, grinning, still riding the high of her easy affection.

Without thinking, you tilted your head and went to kiss her cheek—something small, familiar between the two of you.

But Ellie shifted, just barely.

Your lips caught her hair instead, not quite her cheek, and definitely not intentional.

Ellie played it off smoothly, snorting as she sparked the lighter. “Whoa there, babe—at least let me get high first.”

She said it like a joke, threw you a smirk.

Like nothing was weird.

Like her dodge hadn’t just curled something small and tight in your chest.

But you smiled too, playing along. “Right, of course. Weed before romance.”

“Obviously,” Ellie said through a puff of smoke, passing the joint to Jesse. “Everyone knows the rules.”

Dina cracked up. “God, you two are disgusting, I love it already.”

You laughed with them, easing back into Ellie’s side, her arm still comfortably draped around you like nothing had shifted at all.

+

The couch sagged under the weight of the group, the kind of lazy sprawl only possible when the alcohol started to settle in and the music had faded into background noise.

Conversation flowed easy, drinks swapped hands, and the joint made its slow rotation, curling smoke into the dim party light.

Jesse leaned towards you, propping his elbow on his knee. “So, what are you into? Like… major, hobbies, weird obsessions? Tell me everything.”

You smiled, warming to his easy interest. “I’m a communications major, which means I have no idea what I’m doing, but I make great powerpoints.”

Jesse chuckled. “Honestly? Respect. The bar’s kinda low these days.”

“She made one with transitions that literally moved the audience,” Ellie chimed in, tone dry as she flicked ash into a nearby tray, not even looking up.

You glanced at her, expecting a grin. But Ellie wasn’t paying attention—eyes fixed on her phone, joint loosely balanced between her fingers, and lips pursed as she scrolled.

You brushed it off and turned back to Jesse. “I’m really into film, and music. And… weirdly specific wikipedia holes at 3 a.m.”

(Ellie’s been feeding you weird indie films ever since Night of The Undead Teenagers, you’re weirdly obsessed with all of them.)

Dina leaned forward, eyes lighting up. “Okay, but how did you manage to get Ellie to, like… stick around? That girl used to ghost by week two. You must’ve done something blackmail-worthy.”

Ellie’s head lifted slightly, eyes narrowing. “Dina…”

“What?” Dina laughed, completely unfazed. “C’mon, you know I’m right, els.”

You chuckled awkwardly, unsure how to answer.

Ellie beat you to it.

“Maybe you should shut up and smoke instead of projecting your commitment issues,” she said coolly, taking another drag off the joint.

“Ouch,” Dina muttered with a snort, raising her hands in mock surrender.

But it wasn’t just the bite in Ellie’s voice that threw you off—it was the way Ellie let her arm slide off from your shoulders, dropping her hand into her lap like she hadn’t even noticed.

The absence of her touch hit colder than the basement air.

She leaned back, phone in hand now, thumbs moving slowly across the screen as she scrolled through something—instagram maybe, or texts.

You weren’t sure.

You just sat a little straighter, trying not to overthink it.

Jesse, sensing the shift, kept the conversation moving. “You said you’re into film? Like directing or screenwriting or just watching a ton of weird indie shit?”

You latched onto Jesse’s question, grateful for it. “Mostly watching. I have a letterboxd account that is embarrassing. Like, way too many lists. I’ll send it to you if you wanna judge me properly.”

(Also Ellie's effect on you, she had you start a letterboxd account for all the films she’s made you watch these past few weeks.)

He laughed, and Dina joined in, throwing in a joke about Ellie’s inability to sit through anything without riffing on the plot, but you weren’t really listening to them anymore.

You were too busy watching Ellie.

How she didn’t lean back into you.

How she didn’t add to the banter.

How she smiled at something on her screen instead of looking at you.

+

Dina had kicked her boots off an hour ago, one foot resting on Jesse’s lap, the two of them nestled into a couch cushion warzone, mid-laugh and mid-drunk snack.

Ellie had finally loosened up again.

She sat beside you, a little melted into the couch now, her hoodie pushed up to her elbows, and her legs lazily spread with one knee bumping yours.

The second joint burned slow between her fingers, smoke curling lazily around her.

“I swear to god,” Jesse said, waving his half-empty cup like it was a prop, “I thought I could fit through the vending machine opening. The reese’s were stuck, it was a physics-based decision.”

“You got stuck,” Dina cackled, mouth half-full of stale pretzels. “For twenty minutes! They had to unscrew the machine.”

They didn’t have to,” Jesse defended, wiping his hand on his jeans. “That was a choice. I was almost free.”

Ellie let out a sharp wheeze of laughter, nearly doubling forward. “No, dude, your whole ass was hanging out. It looked like you were giving birth to yourself.”

You laughed with them, your face pressed lightly into Ellie’s shoulder, eyes damp from the absurdity. She was still giggling when she took another drag, her eyes glossy and soft as they drifted to you again

And just like that—like she couldn’t help herself—Ellie leaned in and kissed you.

It was slow and easy, lips warm from the joint, breath faintly tasting of weed and cherry cola. Not showy, not teasing.

Just real.

The kind of kiss you’d come to expect from Ellie when the noise around you faded and her walls slipped down without warning.

Then;

“Awwwww,” Dina cooed, loud and exaggerated, kicking Jesse’s leg.

“Look at the lovebirds!” Jesse chimed in like he couldn’t help himself, grinning ear to ear. “god, get a room.”

Ellie broke the kiss with a snort, her forehead pressing lightly to yours for a beat before she turned to glare at them playfully.

“Shut up,” she groaned, dragging out the syllables. “You’re just mad I didn’t kiss you, Jesse.”

“Maybe I am,” he fired back with a wink. “You never even ask how my day is anymore.”

The laughter died down again, simmering into a warm lull as the joint made another lazy round.

After the kiss—and the chorus of teasing from Dina and Jesse—Ellie didn’t pull away.

If anything, she seemed more grounded.

Ellie’s hand had found your wrist again, thumb grazing the small orange outline inked there, slow and rhythmic, like she wasn’t even aware she was doing it.

Her little habit had started somewhere around week two—whenever Ellie got quiet, or shy, or embarrassed, her fingers would find your tattoo, like tracing it helped her stay tethered to you.

And yet, the memory of earlier—the subtle dodge when you kissed her cheek in front of her friends—still clung to the back of your mind like lint.

Unwanted, but there.

You glanced at her now, the glow from the joint illuminating her face in soft amber.

She was laughing again, head tilted towards Dina, retelling something about Shimmer knocking over a full can of monster and not even flinching.

She looked like herself, like your Ellie.

Maybe you imagined it.

The distance, and the shift.

That flicker of cold when she moved her arm away from your shoulders, when she stared a little too long at her phone instead of at you.

She kissed you now.

She was here now.

She had her thumb on your wrist, like always.

So maybe it was nothing.

Maybe she was just weird about PDA with close friends.

Maybe she just needed a moment earlier.

Maybe she didn’t want to be that couple at the party.

Maybe—

“Hey,” Ellie murmured, catching your eye mid-thought, her smile turning softer. “You okay?”

You blinked out of it, and nodded quickly. “Yeah, just zoned out.”

She gave you a long look, then leaned in to bump her forehead gently to yours.

“Good,” she said, almost under her breath, like a secret only meant for you. Then, still half-laughing from before, she added, “god, Dina’s never gonna let me live tonight down.”

You laughed too, easing into the sound, leaning against her like it was the only thing keeping you upright.

Whatever that weird shift was earlier—it had passed.

You convinced yourself of it.

Because here she was now.

Her voice in your ear.

Her hand on your skin.

And her kiss still lingering on your lips.

+

The door to Ellie’s apartment shut behind you with a soft click, and the moment it did, the giggling started again—quiet, breathless, like you both needed a minute to come down from the night.

You were a little tipsy, a little high, and a little giddy from the secondhand buzz of a night well-spent.

“Okay,” Ellie said, tugging her hoodie off and tossing it onto the nearest chair. “Dina’s gonna give me shit for weeks. I hope you know that.”

You bent down to untie your shoes, laughing softly. “You’re the one who kissed me in front of them.”

“I was drunk,” she smirked.

You raised a brow, tossing your shoe near hers. “Sure. Drunk in love, maybe.”

Ellie snorted and shook her head, already walking backwards towards her bedroom. “Disgusting, Get in here.”

You followed her into the dim room, warm from the radiator, comfortingly messy in a way that felt lived-in.

As soon as the bedroom door clicked shut, she flopped back onto the bed, legs spread out like she belonged to the mattress.

You collapsed beside her, shoes kicked off haphazardly, and heads falling to the same pillow.

The two of you laid there for a moment, facing each other, the late-night quiet humming low around you.

Ellie’s hand drifted across the bed, settling lightly on your waist as her thumb rubbed small, lazy circles through your shirt.

Neither of you spoke at first, but then, her voice cracked the silence.

“I’m really glad you met them.”

You blinked, her tone catching you off guard—gentler, slower, not touched by the haze of weed or party high.

Just real.

They liked you,” she added, and her fingers tightened slightly at your waist. “Like, a lot. Dina texted me after we left, told me not to fuck it up.”

You smiled, but she wasn’t laughing.

Her eyes stayed on yours, steady, full of something you couldn’t look away from.

“I loved watching you with them,” she murmured. “How you didn’t fake anything. You didn’t try to be someone else. You just were, and they saw it. Just like I do.”

You shifted slightly, turning towards her more, the air between you heavier now, full of something that clung to the edges of your ribs.

“I mean it,” she whispered. “You’re perfect.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but she cut you off, her voice suddenly thick, quieter.

“No, listen. You’re perfect. Not in the fake, fairy tale way. In the way that matters. You’re patient with me, even when I pull away. Even when I shut down. You never ask me to be someone I’m not. You never rush me.”

Her hand slid up to the back of your neck, fingers curling there, grounding herself in the touch.

“You don’t care about fancy dates. You never need some Instagram moment. You just… wanna watch movies with me on my dumb little couch and fall asleep with my cat in your lap. You show up, and you..stay.”

Ellie’s voice broke slightly on that last word, a rough whisper that cracked somewhere low in her throat.

“No one’s ever stayed without asking me to change.”

Her forehead rested against yours, her eyes glossy now. Her thumb traced your jaw like she was memorizing the edges.

“I’m so fucking grateful for you,” she breathed. “I don’t even know how to say it right.”

You didn’t speak—you couldn’t.

Not with the way your chest ached and swelled all at once.

And then she kissed you.

Not soft, or careful.

It was a full-bodied kiss—mouth open, hands pulling you in, and her body leaning into yours like it was the only thing that made sense.

Her lips trembled slightly, but she didn’t stop. She kissed you like she needed it—needed you—to make it all real.

When she pulled back, her voice was a whisper against your mouth, full of that same ache, that desperate kind of gratitude that people only say when they mean it too much.

“I’m so lucky I met you.”

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“I don’t know how you deal with me.”

You kissed her again, just to shut her up—just to say I know, I see you, and I feel it too

+

The shop was quiet, just the soft shuffle of pen on paper and the distant buzz of someone vacuuming in the unit next door.

The sun spilled lazily through the front windows, catching on the framed flash art and dust specks drifting in the air.

It was slow—midweek lull slow—and Ellie had her sketchbook spread across the counter, focused on a sleeve piece she was roughing out for a random client next week.

You were sprawled on one of the tattoo chairs, half-asleep, scrolling through your phone with your legs dangling over the edge, one arm tossed over your eyes.

“This your way of helping?” Ellie called out without looking up, pen in hand, already smirking.

“I’m providing moral support,” you said through a yawn.

“Mhm, vital to the creative process.”

You grinned and peeked at her from under your arm. “Oh—speaking of moral support, Juni called you my girlfriend again the other day.”

That got her attention.

She paused mid-line, and glanced up at you with a raised brow. “Oh yeah?”

You laughed, rolling your head towards her. “I told her to stop calling you that unless you were gonna start paying rent.”

Ellie snorted, setting her pen down and leaning back in her rolling chair. “That’s fair, I'm pretty sure I’ve eaten like half of your groceries at this point.”

You shot her a look. “Exactly.”

Ellie smirked, then pushed off the floor with one foot, gliding over to your chair in a slow roll, like a cat on wheels.

She stopped right at your side, hands resting on the arms of the chair before she leaned in.

“Well,” Ellie said, voice low and teasing, “can you blame her? You’ve been officially tainted by yours truly.”

You barely got out a laugh before she kissed you—soft, quick, but warm, her lips pressed to yours with that easy familiarity that came with time.

Her nose brushed yours for a beat afterwards, her eyes still slightly crinkled with amusement.

“Guess I’m the property of Ellie Williams now,” you murmured, smiling against her mouth.

“Damn right you are,” she grinned, bumping your forehead with hers before pulling back, grabbing her pen again.

“She sees us one time eating fries out of the same basket and now it’s girlfriend this, relationship goals that…”

You shook your head, still grinning like an idiot, and watched her glide back across the floor to her sketchbook, spinning once in her chair before refocusing on her work.

Ellie was halfway through shading a thorny rose when you stretched your arms overhead with a dramatic groan, your phone flopping onto your chest.

“I need caffeine,” you announced, like it was a life-or-death situation. “Like, immediately.”

Ellie didn’t look up. “You’ve had caffeine.”

“Not enough caffeine.”

She smirked faintly, her pen still moving. “Let me guess, you want Thirsty Bitch.”

You grinned. “You know me so well.”

That got Ellie to glance up, one brow raised. “What happened to your ‘black milk tea or die’ policy?”

You shrugged with faux nonchalance. “Yeah, well… ever since you forced that swamp water matcha down my throat, I’ve kind of been craving it?”

Ellie chuckled, low and smug, leaning back in her chair again. “Knew Iwould convert you.”

“You didn’t convert me. You wore me down,” you said, already sliding off the tattoo chair and grabbing your jacket.

“Now I want the full sweet version, no regrets.”

“You’re such a sellout.”

You were halfway to the door when you turned around and held out your hand expectantly. “Wallet.”

Ellie narrowed her eyes at you but didn’t hesitate—she dug into her back pocket and pulled out her battered, sticker-covered wallet, tossing it to you with a soft thwap against your palm.

“Take it, buy your shame drink.”

You smirked. “And what would you like, oh matcha prophet?”

“Surprise me,” she muttered, spinning back to her sketch. “If it’s not matcha, I’m suing.”

You turned to leave, but paused at the door with a crooked smile. “Y’know, I think you’re just mad that I stole your taste.”

Ellie didn’t look up, but you heard the grin in her voice. “I’m mad that you make it look better than I do.”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks warming up anyway. “I’ll be back, loser.”

“Don’t forget the matcha, traitor.” she called after you.

(Your favorite version of her echoing in your mind—the one who loved you the loudest when she made it look like no big deal at all.)

+

The room smelled like skin and weed and citrus detergent, the kind Ellie only bought because you once said you liked how it made your shirts smell.

The sheets were kicked halfway off the bed, tangled around her ankles as she hovered over you, trying—very earnestly—not to lose her rhythm despite the quiet laugh that had just bubbled out of your throat.

“Okay, what?” Ellie asked, breathless, her forehead nearly bumping yours as she stilled inside you for a second.

Her brow furrowed like she was really worried, but her lips were trying not to smile. “Did I, like… elbow you? Is my hair doing the thing again?”

(The thing = Ellie’s hair sticking up in the middle of her head)

You blinked up at her, sweaty and flushed and way too in love. “No, no, I just—your face, babe.”

Ellie narrowed her eyes dramatically. “What’s wrong with my face?”

“Nothing! It’s just—” You giggled again, biting your lip. “You get this intense concentration look, like you’re trying to solve a fucking rubik’s cube or land a spaceship.”

Ellie groaned, burying her face in your neck, and muttered, “Oh my fucking god, way to destroy my fragile masculinity mid-thrust.”

You wheezed, clutching at her back. “What masculinity?”

She paused, looked up, her mouth opening like she was gonna say something clever—and then she shrugged, her expression totally deadpan.

“Fair. My masculinity’s just the strap. I rent it.”

You both cracked up, giggles rising and clashing together in the warm air, and Ellie collapsed half on top of you, face smushed into your collarbone.

Her body shook with laughter, her hips still snug against yours, the toy still buried halfway inside you, forgotten for a beat in the haze of the moment.

It was only your second time.

Second time with the lights mostly on, second time seeing each other like this—shirtless and soft and giggling into necks, not quite brave enough to hold eye contact for too long.

Ellie looked up again, her elbow planted beside your head, and her face was red, not just from exertion, but from shyness. “I seriously didn’t hurt you or anything though, right?”

You smiled, reaching up to tuck some of her messy hair behind her ear. “Ellie. No. You’re so careful it’s honestly insane. Like… if you were any gentler, you’d be a breeze.”

Her lips twitched. “A sexy, strap-wielding breeze?”

“That’s right.”

She ducked her head, grinning as she kissed your jaw, then your cheek, then paused at the corner of your mouth. “You wanna… keep going? I mean, like, obviously if you need a break or you’re tired or—god, fuck, I sound like I’m about to ask you to do taxes.”

You nudged her with your knee. “Els, I want you. Please keep going.”

Her eyes softened so much it was like her whole face melted.

“Yeah?” she murmured, pressing her hips forward just a little—just enough to remind you she was still there, still inside you.

You gasped, hips twitching, the movement making both of you shudder.

“Yeah,” you breathed, curling your arms around her neck.

Ellie bit her lip, cheeks glowing, and let out a slightly dorky little “Okay, cool,” like this was a first date and she wasn’t already halfway inside you, like you hadn’t come on her fingers the night before, whispering her name against her ear.

She started moving again—slow, careful, but a little more confident now, encouraged by the way your body responded, how you clenched around her and whimpered at the friction.

Her free hand laced through yours again, anchoring you, her thumb brushing over your knuckles like a nervous tick.

“You’re, um—fuck, you’re so warm,” Ellie said, biting her lip again, and then immediately scrunching her nose.

“Okay, that sounded weird, but I mean, like—god, you feel so fucking good around me.”

You laughed softly against her cheek, your breath hitching as she rocked deeper. “That’s not weird. That’s really hot, actually.”

“Yeah?” She looked down at you like she wasn’t sure if you were joking. “You think I’m hot?”

“You’re literally inside me, Ellie.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah.” She gave you a goofy smile, then tucked her face into your neck again, her next thrust deep and unhurried, more certain now. “Still feels surreal. Being here. You letting me do this.”

You kissed her temple, your legs wrapping around her hips like instinct. “It’s not letting. It’s you. I want you.”

Her breath hitched, hips stuttering for a moment before finding rhythm again.

The toy filled you just right, the curve brushing places that made your breath catch, the strap rubbing sweet and slow against your clit with every grind.

And even with all the sensation, even with your body tensing, slick noises rising from between you with every thrust, what got you the most was how she looked down at you between kisses—eyes wide, pupils blown, mouth parted in awe like she was still trying to believe this wasn’t a dream.

“You’re so pretty,” she whispered suddenly, like it fell out of her.

“Like, distractingly. You keep making these little sounds and I’m—I’m seriously trying not to come just from that, which is insane ‘cause I’m not even feeling it like you are.”

You let out a breathless laugh, your head tipping back into the pillow. “Ellie, please.”

Her hand slid down your side, gripping your thigh as she pushed deeper, slow and full and reverent. “Please what, baby?”

“Don’t stop.”

That flicker of bashful pride crossed her face again—she didn’t always know what to do with praise, but it made her glow anyway.

She leaned down, pressing soft, fluttering kisses to your neck, her thrusts deep and steady, the base of the strap nudging your clit just right.

Her breath was warm against your ear as she whispered, “Gonna make you come again, wanna feel you squeeze around me.”

You whimpered, your hips rocking up into hers, your fingers tightening in her hair. “Ellie, fuck—yeah—like that, don’t stop—please, don’t stop—”

“Got you, babe. Got you,” she murmured, her pace never faltering, eyes never leaving your face even as yours fluttered shut, lips parting on soft, broken moans—”nnnngh, fuck, Ellie, right there”—

When you came, your whole body arched beneath her, back bowed, mouth open in a breathless cry that cracked halfway through, like it was too much to hold.

Ellie held you through it, pressing kisses to your cheeks, her hips still moving gently as you trembled around her, legs locking tight around her waist.

And when you finally stilled, breath slowing, lashes damp with tears you hadn’t realized had fallen, she pulled out carefully, watching your face the entire time.

The toy made a quiet, slick sound as it slid free, and Ellie winced, blushing. “god, that noise always makes me feel like I should apologize.”

You giggled, pulling her down into your arms. “Don’t you dare.”

She melted into you, all limbs and warm skin and that stupid racing heartbeat you could feel pressed against your chest.

Her hand found yours again, and she laced your fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And for a while, neither of you spoke. Just the sound of your breathing, the creak of the bed as Ellie shifted to rest her chin on your chest.

Then, in a small, sheepish voice, she mumbled, “Next time, I wanna try with the purple one.”

You blinked down at her. “The one that looks like a spaceship?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, grinning. “If I’m gonna concentrate that hard, I might as well commit to the bit.”

(Why couldn't she just commit to the girlfriend bit.)

+

Dina and Jesse’s apartment was humming with the low, comfortable noise of a familiar get-together.

Nothing wild—just music playing from Jesse’s half-dead speaker, the smell of frozen pizza reheating in the oven, and too many people trying to fit onto too few couches.

A little crowded, a little loud, but warm.

Familiar, you thought.

You were posted up beside Ellie, legs touching where you sat on the edge of the living room rug, sipping from a half-warm beer.

She had her arm looped behind your back, fingers lazily tapping a rhythm against the floor as she talked to Dina about a new apprentice Joel was thinking of bringing into the shop.

It was easy, it had been easy with Ellie lately.

Jesse came back into the living room from the kitchen with someone in tow—someone unfamiliar.

“Hey,” he called out to the group. “This is Cat, she’s in my visual storytelling seminar. She’s chill.”

Cat smiled, tucking a piece of black hair behind her ear as she gave you guys a casual wave. “Hey, cool place.”

She was pretty in that kind of effortless, I-don’t-care way. Sharp eyeliner, denim jacket, a quiet sort of confidence that didn’t try too hard.

You gave her a polite smile.

Jesse gestured towards you and Ellie. “Cat, this is Ellie—and that’s her partner in crime, caffeine, and sarcasm.”

You laughed softly and waved. “Hi.”

Cat glanced at you, and nodded once.

Then her eyes shifted to Ellie.

Something changed—subtle, small.

Just the way her gaze lingered a second too long.

How the smile she gave Ellie was fuller, more intentional.

Like something rehearsed without seeming to be.

Ellie returned it with a lazy lift of her hand, a soft “Hey,” under her breath.

Not overly interested, and not particularly invested.

Just… casual.

But something in the air shifted, barely noticeable.

A flicker.

You felt it before you could name it.

A drop in something you couldn’t see.

Cat’s eyes didn’t come back to you.

Just kept trailing after Ellie for a second longer before she turned and followed Jesse into the kitchen.

You didn’t say anything.

Neither did Ellie.

She took another sip of her drink, her arm still behind you, and made some offhand comment to Dina about the playlist being “offensively 2014.”

But Jesse glanced at you for half a second—just long enough to notice that small flicker in your expression, the pause.

The way your shoulders drew in just slightly.

It was nothing.

It felt like nothing.

Just a new face at a party.

(You would remember that exact smile. That exact shift in the air and regret not paying more attention to it.)

+

The diner was loud in a comfortable way—metal utensils clinking against plates, the occasional shout from the kitchen, and a classic rock song playing too quietly from a dusty speaker.

It wasn’t fancy, but it had booths big enough to cram six people in, and fries greasy enough to be worth sharing.

The group had taken over one of the bigger booths in the back. Ellie sat at the inner end, arm draped around your waist as you nestled next to her in the middle.

Juni was on your other side, sipping from her milkshake and occasionally jumping into a lively conversation with Dina across from her.

They were getting along, it made you smile.

Jesse was next to Dina, talking comics with Ellie, and Cat had slid into the spot beside him—casual, but a little too close.

Ellie was on one of her tangents again, something about paper textures and how digital art “killed the magic.”

You’d heard it before, but she was passionate about it, and Jesse kept pushing just enough to keep Ellie going.

“You’re telling me the scratchy lines are better?” Jesse asked, smirking.

“They live more,” Ellie shot back, gesturing with a fry. “Digital’s too clean, too safe.”

You smiled, leaning into her slightly as she got more animated.

Cat, seated across the table, tilted her head just a little. “That’s kind of hot. Like… being messy on purpose.”

Ellie let out a short laugh, not reading too much into it. “That’s the nicest way anyone’s ever insulted my entire process.”

But Juni noticed something.

She glanced up from her milkshake, eyes narrowing slightly—not dramatic, just… alert.

Watching the way Cat’s gaze lingered too long.

The way her smile was just a little too soft, too timed for Ellie’s jokes.

Juni didn’t say anything. Didn’t shift, and definitely didn't nudge you.

She just watched, quietly.

You were still smiling, caught in the warm bubble of Ellie beside you, her thumb brushing small circles on your right wrist through your hoodie, unaware of the way Cat hadn’t looked at you once since sitting down.

+

You were curled up on one end of the couch, blanket over your legs, half-watching, half-scrolling through your phone.

Juni was stretched out on the other side, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, her attention half on the TV screen and half on you.

You thought the night had gone well.

Juni had laughed with Dina, bonded with Jesse over hot sauce rankings, and didn’t completely shut down when Cat tried to talk about short films she’d “helped shoot.”

For once, everyone was in the same room, and it hadn’t felt awkward.

Not on the surface, anyway.

But Juni’s silence now was… different.

You glanced over. “Okay, what?”

She didn’t answer right away.

Her eyes stayed on the screen.

“Cat’s not as chill as she pretends to be.”

You blinked. “What?”

“She’s trying to get with Ellie,” Juni said flatly, like it wasn’t even up for debate. “Right in front of you, and everyone else.”

You let out a soft, disbelieving scoff. “Seriously?”

Juni looked at you now. “Yeah.”

You shifted, sitting up a little straighter. “She’s just trying to fit in. I mean, she barely knows any of us. She probably just… connects with Ellie through the art stuff.”

Juni didn’t flinch. “No, she lingers on Ellie. She talks to Ellie like she’s the only person in the room, and Ellie doesn’t shut it down.”

“She’s just being nice,” you argued, more defensively now.

“That’s how she is.”

Juni’s gaze didn’t budge. “It doesn’t bother you?”

You shrugged, a little too fast. “I trust Ellie.”

Juni exhaled slowly, like she didn’t want to push but couldn’t let it go either. “It’s just… weird. You two’ve been together for what—two months now? And you’re still not official?”

You froze for a second, then forced a small smile. “She’s figuring stuff out. Ellie said she would ask when she’s ready.”

Juni’s voice softened. “And how long are you gonna wait for that?”

You looked away, eyes fixed on the flickering screen. Someone on the show was sobbing into a confessional cam, mascara smudged.

You swallowed the knot rising in your throat.

“She’s worth the wait,” you said, quieter now.

Juni didn’t argue with that.

She didn’t need to.

She just went quiet again, the unspoken worry hanging between you like another presence in the room.

And the TV kept playing.

And you kept pretending it wasn’t bothering you.

Author's note: heyyy...how y'all doing. What did we think?? I know the timeline can feel a bit confusing but I am creating a timeline graph for each scene or event that happens in the fix. I will show it to you guys around chapter 4, where it'll come into play!

TAGLIST:

@mayfldss @sewithinsouls @iadorefineshyt @safficoon @panic4sage @modernvenuss

LMKK if you want to be added to my TAGLIST!!

[spicedcherrylolli]

CHAPTER ONE: THINKING ABOUT YOU.

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

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

SUBMARINE; MASTERLIST

The bell above the tattoo shop door jingled with a weak chime, the sound swallowed by the hum of a late-night rock playlist playing somewhere in the back.

You stepped inside, blinking against the sudden contrast of warm amber lights and cool walls lined with framed flash sheets.

Your hoodie smelled like cold air and leftover anxiety from the midterm you definitely just bombed, your brain was fried, to say the least.

And your heart was somewhere between fuck it and why not.

The neon sign out front had read WALK-INS WELCOME, glowing a soft pink against the empty sidewalk.

It was past eleven, you half-expected the shop to be closed.

From behind the front counter, a head slowly lifted.

She looked up from her sketchbook, one airpod still in her ear, the other tucked into her hoodie pocket.

Her brows furrowed, like she wasn’t sure if you were real or just the ghost of another college burnout looking for a distraction.

“Uh… hey,” you said, voice sticking in your throat a little.

“Do you actually take walk-ins this late? Or is the sign just for show?”

She blinked, clearly not expecting anyone to wander in after hours. Her green eyes swept over you, quick but not unkind.

Then she shrugged and said, “Yeah, I got time.”

There was a pause, not tense, just… full.

Like the both of you were trying to figure out if this was going to be weird or not.

The girl stood, cracking her knuckles as she moved towards the back. She wore a dark flannel over a tank, ink crawling up one arm like a second skin that protected her.

You watched her move—steady, even a little graceful in the way people are when they don’t realize they’re being watched.

“C’mon,” she said over her shoulder, motioning you toward the chair. “I got some time.”

You followed, the buzzing silence settling between you both like a third presence.

“So, what’s the story?” She asked, gloving up. “Breakup? Quarter-life crisis? Got an F and decided to self-destruct like me?”

“Option C,” you said. “Massive failure and poor impulse control.”

She grinned—crooked, tired, but real. “Well, at least you’re honest.”

You laughed, and for a moment the weight on your chest eased.

You sat down, letting the leather chair swallow you whole, heart thumping just a little faster now.

(Ellie. You learned that her name was Ellie, so sweet and simple.)

“Alright,” Ellie said, pulling out a stencil. “Let’s do something simple. Like linework? Maybe something small on the wrist?”

You nodded. “That works for me.”

(You had no idea what she was saying.)

She kneeled beside the chair, eyes leveled with yours now.

Her gaze lingered, for just a second too long. “This your first?”

“Yeah. You?”

Ellie let out a laugh. “God, no.”

And just like that, something cracked open between you two—barely there, just a flicker.

A flicker that lingered in Ellie’s eyes while she worked on you.

(The kind of moment you wouldn’t even think twice about until months later, when everything had already fallen apart.)

+

The hum of the machine had long faded, replaced by the soft rustle of gloves being stripped off and the quiet click of a spray bottle.

A simple outline of an orange now sat on your wrist—small, clean, and sweet in a way you couldn’t explain.

You hadn’t told Ellie why. Truth was, you didn’t know. You just said “an orange” when she asked, and she didn’t question it. She just nodded like that was reason enough.

Ellie wiped down her station with practiced motions, quiet and focused, like she’d done it a thousand times.

Then she looked up at you, eyes softer now under the fluorescent lights.

“Go wait by the front,” she said. “I’ll cash you out in a sec.”

You hesitated, glanced down at your wrist again, then stood up and walked back to the counter, the leather of the chair creaking as you left it behind.

You watched her again, for a moment—methodical, careful, lost in the routine. She didn’t rush, didn't look at the clock. Just moved like the night had all the time in the world.

Ellie eventually wandered over to the register, rubbing the back of her neck with pen-stained fingers.

The silence between you stretched—not awkward, just dense with something you couldn’t name.

She keyed in a few things, barely glancing at the screen.

“That’ll be…” she said, then paused, eyes flicking up to yours. “Actually—uh, hold on.”

She fumbled with the tablet for a second, hit a few buttons, then finally slid it towards you. “Discounted it. First tattoo and all.”

You tilted your head. “That’s not a thing, is it?”

“Nope,” Ellie said, popping the P. “Just felt like it.”

You tapped your card and waited for the receipt to print, fully expecting her to mumble a polite thanks for coming before locking up.

Instead, Ellie hovered for a beat, biting at the inside of her cheek like she was wrestling with something.

Then, before she could talk herself out of it. “Hey, uh… you want to get some boba?”

You blinked. “Boba?”

Ellie scratched behind her ear, flustered all at once. “Yeah, I mean—you don’t have to. I just… there’s that place down the block that stays open stupid late, the one with the open mic stuff. It’s dumb. But sometimes they have slam poetry nights and I figured maybe—fuck—nevermind, that sounded lame.”

You were already smiling before she finished stumbling through it.

“No,” you said, laughing softly. “That doesn’t sound lame.”

She nodded quickly, half-embarrassed, but relieved. “Cool. Cool, yeah. You don’t have to, obviously. Just thought… maybe you didn’t wanna...go home yet.”

You grabbed your hoodie from the back of a chair, still smiling. “Let me guess—you’re more of a ‘pretend-you-don’t-like-it-but-secretly-know-every-word’ type when it comes to slam poetry?”

Ellie smirked, flicking off the lights behind the counter. “You’re already talking a lot of shit for someone with a fruit on their wrist.”

She locked up the shop, keys jingling in her hand as you both stepped into the night.

The air was crisp, the street quiet except for the distant sound of someone rehearsing lines on the corner.

The boba place came into view at the end of the block, tucked between a laundromat and a 24-hour vape shop, glowing in mismatched purple and teal neon.

You squinted at the sign. “Thirsty Bitch? Seriously?”

Ellie laughed, pulling her hoodie up over her head. “Yeah. It’s awful, but they’ve got the best matcha in a ten-mile radius.”

“Still,” you said, grinning, “naming your boba shop after a Twitter insult is bold.”

You reached the door and stepped inside, the smell of brown sugar syrup and steamed milk hitting you like a wave.

The place was dim, cozy, lit with hanging paper lanterns and fairy lights that probably violated a dozen fire codes.

A group of people were lounging on mismatched couches, someone was curled up reading in a window nook, and in the far corner—half-hidden behind a fake plant wall—someone was passionately performing a poem about heartbreak and avocado toast..?

You and Ellie stood in line, trying not to stare at the guy on stage who was practically crying into the mic.

“I… genuinely can’t tell if that’s a metaphor,” you whispered.

Ellie snorted, covering it with her sleeve. “I think he’s serious. He looks like he just got dumped and lost a farmers’ market sponsorship.”

You both fell quiet again as the line inched forward, eyes occasionally flicking to each other and then away, like you were playing a game neither of you fully understood.

It wasn’t lost on you—this wasn’t casual, not really.

You could feel Ellie watching you in quick glances, like she was trying to solve a problem in your expression.

Trying to figure out if you knew this was her awkward, nervous version of flirting.

You did.

And she could tell that you did.

“So,” Ellie said, voice a little too casual as she rocked back on her heels, “you hang out with tattoo artists often? Or am I just that lucky tonight?”

You raised a brow, smirking. “Is this your go-to move? Ink someone and then lure them into weird poetry cafés with sugar drinks?”

“Only if they look good under neon lighting.”

You tried to cover your grin with your hand.

She was clearly testing the waters—careful, but bold in a way that said she didn’t know exactly where the line was, just that she wanted to find it.

The line shuffled forward, the guy on stage wrapping up his ode to heartbreak with an exaggerated sigh and a dramatic bow.

A light smattering of snaps followed. You and Ellie exchanged a look, trying not to laugh.

“Okay, what’s your order?” Ellie asked as you reached the counter.

“Black milk tea. No sugar, less ice.”

Ellie nodded, then turned to the cashier. “One black milk, no sugar, light ice, and… one matcha milk tea with boba. Full sweetness.”

You were halfway into your bag, already fumbling for your cash when Ellie slid hers into the reader without missing a beat.

You blinked. “Wait—shit, I didn’t bring cash.”

She shrugged, not even looking at you as she typed in her pin. “Good thing it’s not a problem.”

“I was gonna get mine.”

“You can get the next one,” she said, pulling her flannel sleeve over her hand. “Or like… I don’t know. A sticker for my sketchbook or something.”

“Wow,” you teased. “Big spender.”

Ellie shot you a grin as she tipped the cashier. “You’re lucky I like your weird fruit tattoo.”

The two of you made your way to the back, weaving past a guy setting up a keyboard and a group of students debating if slam poetry should rhyme.

A random sunken couch was free—one of those big, overstuffed ones that looked like it had been there since the ’90s—and you both dropped into it like it owed you comfort.

“So,” you said, crossing your legs as you sank too far into the cushion, “you always hang around after tattooing strangers, or am I just special?” You mirrored her tone from earlier while in line.

Ellie leaned back, her knee just brushing yours. “I don’t really… do this. Like, ever.”

You tilted your head. “Do what? Drink overpriced tea or hit on people who are going through a midlife crisis?”

She gave you a slow, crooked smile. “Yes.”

You laughed, surprised at how easy it was to be around her like this—loose, light, like nothing in the world was pressing down for once.

The kind of calm that didn’t come often in your life lately.

“So,” Ellie said, eyes flicking towards the next performer taking the mic, “what are you majoring in?”

“Communications. Which is ironic, because I’m pretty bad at it.”

She huffed a laugh. “Art. Also ironic, since I never show my own shit to anyone.”

You looked over at her. “Not even the people you tattoo?”

“Especially not them,” she said, pulling a knee up onto the couch. “I hide it in sketchbooks like a coward.”

You didn’t press. Just nodded, both of you watching the next act start—some kid doing a poem about their mom’s rice cooker and generational trauma. It was weirdly good, too good.

One of the employees—wearing a beanie too big for his head and a pin-covered apron—gently placed your drinks on the small coffee table in front of the couch.

“Black milk, no sugar. Matcha, full sweet,” he muttered, already halfway turning before either of you could do more than offer a quick “Thanks.”

You both reached for your cups at the same time, fingers brushing lightly, then pulling back in that awkward, polite stutter people do when they’re a little too aware of each other.

Ellie handed you yours, then sat back with hers, the paper sleeve crinkling slightly as she adjusted it in her grip.

You took a sip, the cold bite of black tea grounding you, while she raised her matcha like she was inspecting it. “Okay,” she said, “I know it looks like swamp water, but it’s actually elite.”

“I’m judging you,” you said flatly. “Full sweet matcha is basically melted ice cream.”

“Exactly,” Ellie said, smirking. “You’re welcome for the experience.”

Another performer took the mic—a girl with dyed green hair reading something about toxic friendships.

You both listened half-heartedly, more focused on the strange little bubble you were sitting in, pressed against each other by the couch’s deep sag.

“So,” you said, after a beat, “do you always invite people out for boba after tattooing them, or was I just radiating ‘needs emotional sugar’ energy?” You asked, trying to guage what this meant.

Ellie chuckled softly, eyes on her drink. “No, you were radiating ‘maybe I’d let her see my sketchbook’ energy.”

Your eyebrows raised, amused. “That so?”

She nodded, then added quickly, “Not that I—like—want to show it. Just… hypothetical.”

You smiled into your straw. “Hypothetically noted.”

There was a pause, not uncomfortable—just charged.

Ellie took another sip and glanced sideways at you, quick and nervous.

“I like your voice,” she said suddenly, almost too soft to hear.

You looked over, surprised. “My voice?”

She shrugged, not meeting your eyes. “Yeah. You’ve got one of those… kind voices. Not in a weird way. Just—whatever.”

You tried to hide how much it hit you—how nice it felt to be seen that way. “Thanks, you've got nice hands...for someone who literally stabs people for a living.”

Ellie snorted, a quick, surprised laugh bursting out of her. “That’s one hell of a compliment.”

“Take it or leave it,” you said, sipping your tea again, feeling your smile pull at the edge of your lips.

+

The final poem faded out under light applause and scattered finger snaps.

You and Ellie were slow to move, both dragging out the last sips of your drinks like they were excuses to stay a little longer, but eventually, all that was left was ice.

You stood, tossing your empty cup into the trash by the door. Ellie followed a second later, her lid clattering as it hit the bin.

The two of you stepped out into the cool night air, the neon lights of Thirsty Bitch flickering faintly behind you.

Neither of you spoke at first. The walk back towards the tattoo shop was quiet, not tense, but full of something unspoken.

The space between you felt smaller now, but the silence was heavier—like you were both trying to figure out what this night even was.

“Thanks,” you said finally, turning toward her. “For paying, you didn’t have to.”

Ellie waved a hand, brushing it off like it was nothing, but you caught the way her neck flushed red, color disappearing under the collar of her shirt.

“It’s not a big deal,” she said quickly. “I mean—I wanted to. Not in like a weird way. I just… wanted to, that's all.”

You smiled. “Ellie.”

She blinked. “Yeah?”

“You’re literally stammering.”

Her hands went straight to her pockets as she laughed, half-defeated.

“Okay. Look. I’m just—I don’t know how to end this without sounding like a complete idiot. Like, is this still part of the tattoo appointment? Did we just accidentally hang out for two hours? Is this… a date?”

You tilted your head, grinning. “Do you want it to be a date?”

“I was, like, gonna ask for your number. Like… subtly. Or somethin, but I kinda suck at this.”

You held out your hand. “Give me your phone.”

She blinked again.

“You know,” you said, “so I can save myself in it.”

A slow smile spread across her face as she handed it over. “You’re really good at this whole subtle thing too, huh?”

You typed your name in, shot yourself a text, then passed it back.

Ellie immediately unlocked her screen, texting you a quick “hey” from your new contact.

You pulled out your own phone and smiled when it lit up with her number.

“I guess this means I’m not just another walk-in,” you said, sliding your phone back into your pocket.

Ellie looked down, that shy, half-smirk tugging at her lips again. “Nah. You’re the one who ordered an orange on your wrist. Pretty sure you were gonna stick around whether I wanted you to or not.”

You laughed, and it felt good.

Light.

Like the start of something real.

You both stood there a beat too long, the night stretching thin between you like it was waiting for one of you to make a move neither of you were ready for.

Ellie shifted on her feet, hands still buried in her jean pockets. “Uh… I should probably head home,” she said, eyes flicking to the street.

You nodded too fast. “Yeah. Me too. Home, definitely.”

A beat of silence.

“Okay, well… bye?” Ellie said, stepping back, voice a little higher than usual.

“Bye,” you echoed, giving a small wave that felt weird the second you did it.

You immediately dropped your hand, pretending to fix your sleeve instead.

Ellie turned towards the row of cars parked out front.

Her converse scuffed against the pavement as she walked—shoulders hunched like she didn’t know what to do with herself.

She glanced over once, half-smiling, and you offered a quick smile back before turning to go the opposite way.

You heard her car beep as it unlocked behind you, and you didn’t look back.

Your chest felt tight—not in a bad way.

Just in the way things feel when they might be something.

Awkward, a little clumsy, but still somehow… sweet.

+

The campus café buzzed with the usual chaos—grinding espresso machines, laughter echoing off the concrete walls, and the constant scrape of chairs on tile.

You sat across from Juni in your usual booth by the window, nursing a lukewarm coffee and trying (failing) to wipe the stupid smile off your face.

Juni narrowed her eyes, sipping her oat milk latte with suspicion. “Okay, spill. You’ve been grinning like an idiot for the last fifteen minutes, and you haven’t said a single thing about your drama class meltdown or the train wreck of a group project you’re in.”

You bit your lip, shrugging casually. “Maybe there’s nothing to tell.”

She gave you a look. “Girl.”

You laughed, finally giving in. “Okay, okay. So… remember the tattoo artist? Ellie?”

Juni’s eyes lit up. “The tattoo artist? Late-night walk-in Ellie? The one who took you to a place literally called thirsty bitch?”

“That’s the one.”

“Oh my god, finally,” she said, smacking her palm on the table. “What happened? I thought that was a one-time hangout slash casual date with crazy undertones of sexual tension!”

You took a sip of your coffee, trying to downplay it but failing miserably. “We’ve been texting. Like, nonstop, all week.”

Juni leaned in, eyes wide. “Nonstop, huh? What kind of nonstop? Good morning texts or ‘here’s a meme that reminded me of your wrist tattoo’ kind of thing?”

“Both,” you said, cheeks heating up. “She sends stupid gifs, and voice notes sometimes. She’s… actually really funny.”

Juni smirked, stirring her drink with a tiny wooden stick. “I’m happy for you. Just—be careful, okay?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Juni leaned back, eyes playful but serious underneath.

“You’re soft. You catch feelings like it’s your job, and tattooed girls with tired eyes and flannels? That’s exactly the type to make you fall hard and then disappear into a cloud of cryptic playlist links.”

You laughed, pushing her shoulder. “Shut up.”

“I’m just saying,” she teased, sipping her drink like she wasn’t delivering warnings through a straw. “Don’t let her ruin your playlist.”

You shook your head, grinning. “No, she’s not like that. I mean—she’s kind of… nerdy? In this hot, low-key way. Like, she was talking about shading techniques and somehow I was still blushing.”

Juni blinked. “You blushed over shading?”

“She made it sound important!” you defended, laughing now. “And her voice goes all quiet when she’s focused, and she has this stupid pencil tucked behind her ear all the time. I swear, she doesn’t even know she’s hot.”

“Oh no,” Juni groaned. “You’re doomed.”

You covered your face with your hands. “I know.”

Juni grinned, the teasing softening. “Okay, but seriously. I love this for you. Just… don’t fall in love until I get to meet her and approve.”

You peeked through your fingers. “Too late.”

Juni took a long sip of her latte, waiting, eyes sharp like she already knew you weren’t done.

You swirled the last of your coffee, biting the inside of your cheek before finally speaking again.

“I’m seeing her saturday,” you said quietly, not looking up right away. “She’s off from the shop.”

Juni perked up, grinning again. “Ooh, plans?”

You nodded, finally meeting her gaze. “Just… hanging out, at her place.”

Juni raised an eyebrow. “Just hanging out?”

“That’s the plan,” you said, trying—and failing—not to sound flustered.

“She said she wants to show me this ridiculous old horror movie she loves. Like, some weird black-and-white zombie thing.”

“Let me guess—she’s gonna act like it’s ironic, but she secretly knows all the dialogue.”

“Exactly.”

Juni smirked. “Okay, so you’re gonna be alone. At her place, watching a movie. Sounds very platonic.”

You groaned, sinking lower into your seat. “I know. That’s the thing. I don’t want it to be platonic, but I also don’t want to ruin it if I read this all wrong.”

“Babe.” Juni leaned forward, more serious now. “You said you’ve been texting every day, she took you out after hours, paid for your drink, and flirts with you over shading techniques—you really think she’s not into you?”

“I don’t know, okay?” you said, voice low but urgent. “What if she’s just nice? What if I go over and it’s just two friends watching a movie on a couch and I sit there the whole time dying because I want to touch her but I don’t want to freak her out?”

Juni softened. “You’re into her.”

“I’m so into her,” you admitted, leaning your forehead against your hand. “Like… stupidly into her. It’s bad. I think about her and my brain just short circuits, and then she sends me a blurry pic of her cat and suddenly I’m spiraling into soft girl hell.”

Juni let out a laugh and reached across the table, touching your wrist. “Okay, listen. Just go. Hang out. Be you. If it’s mutual—and I promise you, it probably is—you’ll feel it. You don’t have to make a move. You just have to be open.”

You nodded slowly, heart thudding in your chest. Saturday felt both a breath away and miles off.

“Okay,” you said, almost to yourself. “Okay.”

Juni leaned back again, smile returning. “Worst case? She’s emotionally repressed and you two spend three months in gay limbo. Best case? She kisses you mid-movie and you finally get to make out with the hot, nerdy tattooed girl.”

You laughed, half-nervous, half-relieved.

“I’ll take either at this point,” you said.

But deep down, you were already hoping for the second.

+

Ellie opened the door a crack before pulling it wide, already rubbing the back of her neck with the same nervous energy she always wore a little too visibly around you.

“Hey,” she said, stepping aside to let you in. “Uh—so just a heads up… Shimmer might hiss at you, but that’s her way of saying hi. She’s a bitch, but she’s old, so she gets a pass.”

You laughed softly, stepping inside. “Shimmer, huh?”

“She was named during a regrettable horse phase…don’t ask.”

The apartment was small but lived-in, cozy in that kind of organized chaos that made sense to her and no one else—sketchbooks piled in one corner, a half-finished painting leaning against the wall, a blanket bunched up unevenly on the couch.

A couple tattoo machines sat on a shelf above her desk, next to a bowl of cat treats and a few empty cans of energy drink.

You kicked off your shoes by the door and scanned the space with quiet curiosity. “It’s cute,” you said honestly. “Very… you.”

Ellie flushed, ducking her head a little. “Yeah, well. Don’t look too hard, or I’ll have to pretend I totally meant for that chair to have four unmatched hoodies on it.”

Something furry darted past your feet, letting out a judgmental chirp as it hopped up onto the arm of the couch.

“Shimmer,” Ellie called out. “Be cool.”

The cat blinked at you slowly, as if deciding whether you were worth acknowledging, then curled into a dramatic loaf and ignored you completely.

“I think we’re off to a good start,” you said.

Ellie laughed, a little breathless. “She likes you more than she liked my ex, so… that’s probably a good omen.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Wow, high praise.”

Ellie cleared her throat, suddenly fidgety. “Okay, uh—movie’s queued up already. It’s dumb. You’ll probably hate it. I’m gonna grab snacks from the kitchen. You can… sit wherever, get comfortable.”

She spun on her heel and all but fled toward the kitchen, pretending to be very busy rummaging through cabinets and muttering about not having enough popcorn.

From where you stood, you could just barely see her shoulders tense as she pulled open a drawer with way too much force, trying to look casual while clearly, clearly short-circuiting.

You smiled to yourself as you sat on the couch, Shimmer watching you like a sentry. Ellie’s voice floated in from the kitchen, muffled and quick;

“Do you like Red Vines or Twizzlers or—shit, wait, do you even like candy? I forgot to ask. I’m a terrible host. I have chips too and maybe ice cream? I don’t know if it’s expired. I should check. Do people check that?”

You leaned back into the cushions, heart full, voice soft but teasing; “Ellie, breathe.”

“Okay,” Ellie mumbled from the kitchen, the word coming out more like an exhale than actual speech.

You heard the rustling of plastic bags and cabinet doors creaking open and closed as she scrambled to collect supplies—Red Vines and Twizzlers, both, because she hadn’t known which ones you liked better, and a half-eaten bag of sour cream & onion chips. Two cans of generic soda from a bodega run earlier in the day.

She was trying to act casual, but every move she made was just a little too loud, like her nerves were shaking through her limbs.

When she finally emerged from the kitchen, her arms were overflowing, and she had to pause to awkwardly nudge the light switch off with her elbow.

“Okay, so, uh… snack options,” she said, holding the bags up like a nervous magician revealing her final trick. “They’re kinda random, but… I panicked. I just grabbed what looked vaguely edible.”

You grinned, scooting over to give her room.

Ellie dumped the snacks onto the coffee table and sat down next to you, movements stiff, careful. She leaned forward, cracking open a can with too much force, then immediately winding at the hiss like she had startled herself.

“So,” she said, still not quite looking at you, “the movie’s called Night of the Undead Teenagers—it’s terrible, but, like… intentionally terrible. It’s got this ridiculous synth soundtrack and every line sounds like it was written by a sleep-deprived college student. Which… might be why I love it.”

You chuckled softly, already feeling the warmth of the couch pressing both of you closer together than you expected.

Ellie noticed it too—the way her thigh barely touched yours, the way the couch didn’t offer much personal space unless one of you leaned all the way into the armrest, which neither of you did, obviously.

She picked up the remote and hesitated before hitting play, sneaking a glance at you like she was trying to memorize your expression before the lights dimmed from the TV’s glow.

“You sure this is cool?” she asked, almost whispering. “Just… hanging out like… this?”

You looked at her, close enough now to notice the way her freckles shifted when she flushed red, the way she was trying so hard not to let her knee bump against yours again.

“Ellie,” you said softly. “Yes, I’m sure.”

She let out a breath, nodded, then finally pressed play.

As the terrible synth music filled the room and the movie’s clunky opening credits rolled, Ellie settled back into the couch beside you, eyes on the screen—but her mind clearly somewhere else.

Halfway through Night of the Undead Teenagers, the screen was bathed in fake blood and neon greens, some guy in a leather vest dramatically shouting about “the power of eternal angst” before getting eaten offscreen by what was clearly two people under a bedsheet.

You and Ellie both snorted.

“This is so bad,” you whispered, your cheek practically against her shoulder now.

“I know,” she whispered back, trying not to smile too wide. “It’s perfect.”

At some point—neither of you knew when—Ellie’s arm had slipped behind your head. It had started as a cheesy imitation of what a character in the movie did twenty minutes in, one of those exaggerated “yawn-and-stretch” moments that Ellie had ironically copied with a smug, joking grin.

But the thing was… she never moved it back.

And you hadn’t minded it, not one bit.

Now her fingers gently rested near your neck, thumb occasionally brushing against the edge of your hoodie. It wasn’t bold, but it wasn’t nothing either.

You leaned into her more with each scene, and she hadn’t shifted away. If anything, she shifted closer.

The bowl of snacks sat mostly untouched now, save for the near-empty pack of Twizzlers clutched in Ellie’s lap like some kind of sugar-laced emotional support item.

She tugged one out lazily, chewed off half, then held the other end up in your direction with a casual glance.

You arched a brow, amused.

“Sharing is caring,” she murmured, eyes still on the screen like she wasn’t holding her breath.

You leaned in and bit the other half without a word, letting your eyes linger on hers just a little longer than necessary before settling back against her shoulder.

Neither of you said anything after that, you didn’t have to.

The movie carried on, the plot unraveling into some bizarre high school ritual involving eyeliner, ancient texts, and zombie prom queens—but it all faded into background noise.

What mattered was the way you fit into her side.

The way Ellie’s breathing had slowed, steady and soft near your ear.

The way your fingers lightly brushed her thigh without either of you flinching away.

+

The credits rolled in dramatic red letters, backed by a final synth scream and a slow pan over what was clearly a mannequin head meant to be the villain. A single, off-key guitar chord echoed—and then silence.

You and Ellie burst out laughing.

“Oh my god,” you wheezed, half-curled into her lap now, hand pressed over your face. “That was so bad.”

“I told you!” Ellie said, breathless, shoulders shaking under you. “They reused the same explosion shot three times.”

“They didn’t even try to hide it,” you gasped. “The main guy was still in frame.”

Ellie tipped her head back against the couch, full-on grinning. “That was cinema.”

You were basically tangled in her now, limbs overlapping somewhere between cuddling and a pile-up.

The couch barely had room for it, but neither of you made a move to shift away.

You could feel her heartbeat under your hand where it rested against her chest, her hoodie smelled like something clean and faintly like bleach—probably the shop.

Most of the snacks had been demolished. Ellie had absolutely hoarded the Twizzlers, breaking them in half to hand you pieces without even asking, like it was a ritual you both understood.

The chips were nearly gone too, save for a few crumbs, and two empty soda cans sat on the coffee table beside a half-squashed Red Vine packet.

Your laughter started to fade into softer giggles, eyes still on her face.

She looked down at you, cheeks pink, lips slightly parted from smiling so hard. “Okay,” she said, still catching her breath, “but seriously. When the zombie ripped off his own face just to kiss his ex? That was art.”

You snorted, tucking your head slightly against her shoulder. “He was committed to the bit. I respect that.”

You looked up at her, and this time the laughter slipped into something quieter—gentler.

Ellie was already looking back..

You were still smiling—barely—but it wasn’t about the movie anymore.

The screen had long since dimmed to its idle menu, casting flickering blue light across Ellie’s face. She looked different like this—softer, like all the guarded edges she’d carried were slowly melting under the weight of the moment.

Neither of you said a word.

You shifted just slightly, and her hand at your waist moved with you, instinctively anchoring you closer.

Her thumb brushed over the fabric of your hoodie, and you felt it—how close you really were, how close you wanted to be.

Your eyes dropped to her lips, just for a second.

Ellie noticed.

Her breath hitched, almost imperceptibly, and she leaned in—just an inch, maybe less.

You mirrored her without thinking. A slow, subconscious gravitation, like you were both afraid of pushing too fast, but more afraid of pulling away.

Your foreheads were nearly touching now, the air between you thick with hesitation and want.

She whispered something—your name, maybe—but it got lost in the space between your mouths.

Then you kissed her.

It wasn’t perfect, not in the storybook way.

You were half-curled into her, the angle weird, her nose bumping slightly into yours, but it didn’t matter.

Her lips were soft and a little chapped, and the moment your mouth pressed to hers, something in your chest went still.

She kissed you back immediately, shy at first—then more sure, more Ellie, with the way her hand slid up your back and held you just a little tighter.

It was a small kiss, barely more than a press of lips, but the way she leaned into it made it feel like the world had tipped over.

You pulled apart just slightly, noses brushing, and she let out a breath against your cheek like she’d been holding it in forever.

“Was that—”

You nodded, voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, it was.”

Ellie blinked, stunned quiet, then laughed once—small and breathless.

“Cool,” she murmured, eyes falling back to your lips for half a second. “Good. Just…checking.”

The quiet hung between you again, but it wasn’t awkward now—it was charged.

Tense in a way that pulled at your skin, pulled at her fingers still gripping your waist like she didn’t know how to let go.

You both tried to play it cool.

You leaned your head against her shoulder like it was just casual. She exhaled a shaky breath like maybe that first kiss hadn’t just wrecked her entire ability to think.

But then her hand slid up your back, slow and warm and deliberate, and you shifted—just a little—to meet her eyes again.

Ellie looked at you like she was caught between trying to hold herself back and giving in completely.

“Okay,” she muttered, half to herself. “Fuck it.”

She kissed you again—no hesitation this time. Just heat.

You barely had time to react before her lips were on yours, firmer, needier.

She groaned softly into your mouth, her fingers tightening at your waist as she pulled you upward, drawing you further over her.

You moved without thinking, letting her guide you, your knees sliding across the couch as your body pressed closer to hers.

This kiss wasn’t awkward. It was desperate, focused.

All the tension that had simmered between texts and shared glances and whispered laughter were now pouring out between your mouths.

You could hear it—the soft, wet sounds of your lips meeting, parting, meeting again—sharp against the quiet hum of the TV menu behind you.

Ellie tilted her head, deepening the kiss, her breath hitching as she pulled you even closer.

You gasped into her, and she drank it in, her hand sliding up your back to cradle the base of your neck.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless, your chest rising and falling against hers, Ellie’s lips already bruising—flushed red and slightly swollen.

She stared up at you, dazed, thumb still grazing your side like she wasn’t ready to let go, not even close.

Then she leaned in again—no pause, no words—and kissed you hard, like this time, she needed to remind herself it was real.

+

Morning came slowly, bleeding soft light through the cracks in Ellie’s blinds, warming the corners of her small bedroom.

The world outside muted, far away, like the city had agreed to sleep in too.

You were wrapped in one of her oversized shirts—something faded and threadbare, with a logo you couldn’t even read anymore. It hung off your shoulder just enough to feel deliberate, the scent of her still clinging faintly to the fabric.

You laid curled beside her, your legs tangled with hers under the blanket, and your forehead nearly brushing hers.

Ellie’s arm was tucked beneath your head, her other hand lazily stroking through your hair, fingers warm and slow against your scalp.

Every so often, she’d scratch gently near the base of your neck, and it made you want to melt right into her.

Neither of you had said much yet, you didn’t need to.

You shifted slightly, nudging your nose against her cheek. “You snore,” you mumbled, voice low and thick with sleep.

Ellie cracked one eye open, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “That’s slander,” she whispered.

“You absolutely do.”

“You were literally drooling.”

You gasped, mock-offended. “I was cozy, there's a difference.”

She chuckled, a lazy sound deep in her throat, and her hand moved up to gently comb through your hair again. “You looked cute, like a passed-out cat in my shirt.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips. “You’re only saying that ‘cause I’m in your bed.”

Ellie raised a brow, still half-asleep. “And yet… not denying it.”

You buried your face into the crook of her neck, laughing softly. “God, you’re annoying.”

Her hand cradled the back of your head, thumb grazing slow circles at your nape. “Yeah,” she whispered. “But you’re still here.”

You didn’t reply to that—not because you didn’t have anything to say, but because the truth of it settled in too easily between you.

You were still there.

And neither of you were in a rush to move.

So instead, you let the morning stretch on, your fingers lightly tracing patterns against her chest, her hand never leaving your hair.

Just breathing, curled into each other, letting the quiet speak for what words couldn’t quite hold yet.

+

The hum of Ellie’s old car idled beneath you as she pulled up in front of your apartment building, tires crunching slightly over the curb.

Morning sunlight poured through the windshield, catching in the dust on the dashboard and the tiny charm hanging from her rearview mirror—some cracked little keychain you didn’t remember noticing the night before.

Ellie shifted into park and glanced sideways at you, her hand still resting on the gear shift. She looked more awake now, hair pulled up messily, hoodie sleeves shoved halfway up her forearms.

But her eyes… they were softer.

Like something had settled in her overnight.

You opened the passenger door but didn’t move to get out just yet. “I think I’ve got everything,” you said, checking your tote in your lap. “Phone, keys, dignity…”

Ellie laughed under her breath, but didn’t say anything right away. She leaned slightly across the console, one hand brushing your arm.

Her fingers curled gently under your chin, tilting your face towards hers like she couldn’t stop herself.

“Wait,” she murmured, and then she kissed you.

It wasn’t shy, or rushed.

Just slow and sure, like she needed one more moment of you before she let you go.

Her lips moved against yours with a quiet kind of hunger, deepening the kiss just enough to steal your breath.

A low hum of pleasure slipped from her throat—quiet but unguarded—and it made your heart stutter in your chest.

When she pulled back, your eyes met again, dazed and grinning.

And then, almost as an afterthought, she leaned in one last time and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek—sweet and warm like punctuation.

“Bye, baby. See you later,” Ellie said casually, voice low and a little rough.

It took half a second for both of you to realize what she’d just said.

You blinked.

Her eyes widened a fraction.

And then—you both laughed.

It wasn’t nervous, or awkward.

Just this giddy, breathless kind of laughter that filled the cab of the car like sunlight.

Ellie rubbed the back of her neck, shaking her head with a crooked smile. “I mean… yeah. I guess I said that.”

“I noticed,” you teased, already stepping out with a dumb smile you couldn’t hide if you tried.

She leaned over the console again, resting her chin on her arm. “Text me when you’re inside, yeah?”

“Always.”

You shut the door, gave her one last look through the open window, and waved as you walked towards your building.

She waited until you disappeared behind the glass doors, before pulling away from the curb, her car grumbling quietly as it rolled down the street.

Author's note: hey.....How y'all doing! As promised, chapter one is here😛I did not proofread this... Mainly because I'm lazy and just transferring it from my google docs.. So I hope you enjoyed it😭chapter two next week.... trust me you guys!! Lmk what you think in the comments!!

TAGLIST: @mayfldss @sewithinsouls @wwefan2002 @persymons

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED IN THE FUTURE...

[spicedcherrylolli]

could you write some aftercare for filthy troublemaker?

Filthy Troublemaker (3)

Ambessa Medarda x Fem!Reader x Sevika

[Part i] [Part ii]

Aftercare, post smut.

Word count: 1.1k. . .

You were at the verge of passing out when you felt Sevika pull the dildo away from your mouth finally. Your jaw was hurting, slack. Ambessa wiped her hand away carelessly before she gave your thigh a comforting, warm squeeze.

“You're gonna take those provocative pictures down,” Sevika said firmly before she dropped onto the bed beside you.

“You'd think we enjoy doing this to you,” Ambessa kissed your forehead and got up, heading for the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” You slurred out, your words barely coherent from all the mouth fucking. Ambessa didn't answer and disappeared in the bathroom for a bit before she returned with a soft wash cloth and a bowl of warm water.

“Just treating my princess well,” Ambessa said, sitting between your legs and wiping away your juices, her touch so light and so gentle. You smiled.

“You did well, today,” Sevika remarked almost begrudgingly after Ambessa gave her the ‘look’.

“Oh?”

You giggled, your tone teasing as you leaned your head against Sevika's frame. Sevika hummed softly, running her fingers through your sweat-dampened hair. Ambessa finished cleaning you up a bit later and stood up, putting the bowl on the bedside table along with the cloth.

“Get up, the both of you,” she said, “Get in the bath.”

Sevika got up first, grunting and going to the bathroom to run a bath for you. You stayed there, legs almost numb from all the fucking. You managed to sit up, hearing the water running from the bathroom. Ambessa smiled, leaning down, her muscular arm hooking behind your knees easily and picking you up without even breaking a sweat. You felt so small compared to her, you blushed.

“You never skip a moment to show off.” you said playfully.

“Would you rather I dropped you right now?” Ambessa said, matching your energy.

You shook your head, hand resting against her chest as you giggled at the playful banter. “Nuh-uh.”

Ambessa walked to the bathroom with you in her arms, you saw Sevika testing the temperature of the water out with her hand before she stood up straight. “Alright, you can put her in, I'll get the towels and shit.”

Sevika exited the bathroom leaving you and Ambessa in there. You felt your body being lowered in the warm water, a wave of comfort washed over you as you relaxed in the bath.

“It feels nice…”

“Yeah?” Ambessa got in the bath with you, pulling you flush against her own now naked body. Your back was against her chest, you smiled and leaned your head back against her shoulder.

Sevika returned, putting the towels on the bathroom counter before she got in the bath herself.

“We missed you,” you said, pulling her against your body and giggling. You were now sandwiched between the two.

You stroked Sevika's hair, “You've been so incredibly mean to me today, y'know?”

“Oh yeah?”

Sevika smirked a little, grabbing your jaw and pulling you in for a kiss. You squealed a little in the kiss, your cheeks turning rosy. Sevika parted, a thin string of saliva connecting her lips to yours.

“Well, that's how a punishment is supposed to be,” Sevika said before she pulled your face closer and gave you a forehead kiss. “But I'm sorry, sweet angel, I'll take good care of you now. We will take good care of you.”

Ambessa nodded. “Yes, we will.”

You sank further into the warmth, eyes fluttering shut for a second before a lazy smile spread across your lips. “Mm… this is perfect.”

“You better not fall asleep in here,” Sevika muttered, though her hand was already trailing along your thigh underwater in soft, absentminded strokes.

“I’m just… resting my eyes,” you mumbled sleepily, your voice a faint slur. The heat of the bath, their closeness, the comedown from everything, it was too much in the best way. Ambessa shifted behind you, adjusting her arm so it was wrapped snug around your middle.

“Let her rest a bit. She’s been good.”

Sevika raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. Instead, she leaned over and kissed your temple. “You always push it, you know. Those pictures you posted… Did you think we wouldn’t find out?”

“I didn’t think it’d piss you off that much,” you teased softly, cracking one eye open. “You two already have me.”

“That’s not the point,” Ambessa said. Her tone was low, serious, but her fingers were still brushing slow circles over your belly. “You belong to us. And when you forget that, we remind you.”

Your thighs pressed together a little at her words, a heat different from the bath water starting to pool low in your gut again. You didn’t respond right away, just let out a shaky breath.

“I like it when you remind me…” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Sevika chuckled darkly, her hand sliding up your chest, cupping your breast underwater with easy possessiveness.

“Yeah, I figured that out about five orgasms ago.”

You let out a breathless laugh, squirming faintly between them. “Sadists.”

“Only for you,” Ambessa murmured into your neck, planting a kiss just below your ear.

The bath remained quiet for a moment, just the faint sound of water lapping against the sides, your breathing, and their bodies holding yours. Then Sevika reached over and pulled a bottle of shampoo from the shelf, popping it open with a flick of her thumb.

“Lean back, baby,” she said. “Let me wash your hair.”

You obeyed without question, your head cradled in her hands. Warm water poured gently down from a cup Ambessa passed to her. Fingers moved through your hair, massaging your scalp with care that almost made you tear up. It was so different from how they'd treated you hours earlier.

“You always take care of me after,” you whispered, eyes closed, voice soft and thick with affection. “Even when you’re mad.”

“We’re not mad,” Sevika said after a moment. “We were… worried.”

Ambessa spoke next. “People look at you. They want what’s ours. You know that.”

You swallowed and nodded, this time more firmly. “Okay. I'll be more careful.”

Ambessa kissed your wet cheek, and Sevika leaned in too, pressing her lips to your collarbone. You were sandwiched between strength and fire, yet wrapped in so much love

“Let’s get out before the water gets cold,” Ambessa murmured after a few minutes, brushing your shoulder. “Come on, pretty girl.”

She stood first, pulling herself out of the tub with ease, her glistening figure a tower of power and grace. Sevika followed next, then reached down to help you up gently. You stood shakily, both of them instantly bracketing your sides with hands on your waist, keeping you upright. Wrapped in warm towels, they led you back to bed, laying you down in the soft sheets as if you were something sacred.

And maybe to them, you were.

[spicedcherrylolli]

i want to play with a butch’s packer like this…

[spicedcherrylolli]

more loser!ellie please 🙏🙏

taking loser!gf!ellie with you for lingerie shopping

cw: fluff, suggestive, loser lesbian!ellie, fem!reader.

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it starts with one sentence. one sentence and a perfectly timed glance over your shoulder while you’re straddling her on the couch.

“i need new lingerie.”

ellie doesn’t respond at first. she just sort of… short-circuits.

you’re wearing her hoodie - the green one with the stretched sleeves and little bleach spots on the cuff - and nothing underneath it. your thighs are bare against the scratchy fabric of her secondhand couch. your lip’s caught between your teeth. and you say it so casually, like you’re telling her you need shampoo. like you’re not already half in her lap, driving her fucking insane.

she’s holding a half-lit joint and stares at you like you’ve just told her the world’s ending.

“i’m sorry,” she says finally. “you what?”

“i need lingerie,” you say again, slowly this time, like she’s old or confused. you stretch, arms up over your head, hoodie riding even higher on your thighs. you blink down at her. “i’m low on pretty stuff.”

she blinks. once. twice. her fingers flex against your hips like she’s trying to ground herself. “isn’t all your stuff already… pretty?”

you grin. “that’s sweet. but no. i want the really pretty kind. the ridiculous kind. bows and lace and way too many straps.”

ellie’s jaw flexes. “oh.”

you let the silence stretch.

then: “you wanna come with me?”

ellie’s eyes shoot up. her whole body goes rigid, like you just asked her to go to war.

“to… to the lingerie store?”

you nod, very nonchalant. “yeah. i need a second opinion.”

“right. because i’m so… fashion-forward.”

“you are when it comes to me.”

ellie says nothing. her fingers twitch where they rest on your thighs. she’s pretending to look cool, but her mouth is slightly open and she hasn’t blinked in way too long.

you raise an eyebrow. “that a yes?”

she clears her throat. “uh. yeah. sure. i mean, yeah. i can do that. just, like… be normal. in the lingerie store. like a normal person.”

you lean in, grin widening. “you’ve never been normal, ellie.”

“yeah,” she breathes. “and it’s about to get so much worse.”

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the next day, she dresses like she’s attending your funeral.

dark jeans. beat-up converse. that ratty smashing pumpkins tee she only wears when she’s feeling brave, and a zip-up hoodie over the top. she doesn’t style her hair, just pulls it into a low bun and lets the baby curls frizz around her ears. you kiss her temple as she slouches into the passenger seat of your car, and she groans into her hands like you’ve just kissed her in front of a firing squad.

you, on the other hand, look unfairly hot.

hair pretty. lip gloss on. you even sprayed perfume - the one that makes her dizzy and stupid. you keep twirling your hair around your finger at red lights. keep crossing and uncrossing your legs like you don’t know exactly what it’s doing to her.

“please be gentle with me,” ellie mumbles as you pull into the parking garage.

“no promises.”

she groans again.

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the store is a lot.

it’s pink. everything is soft, glowing, wrapped in silk and tulle. the music is sultry - some slow, breathy remix of something you danced to at a party last summer. the mannequins are tall, leggy, headless, and intimidating. there’s a neon sign above the back wall in soft cursive that says treat yourself, baby.

ellie stares up at it like she’s witnessing a religious experience.

she mutters under her breath, “this place is terrifying.”

you loop your arm through hers and tug her deeper into the racks of lace and mesh.

“i thought you liked terrifying things,” you say.

“i do. usually. but this is… this is uncharted territory.”

you pause in front of a rack of blush-colored balconette bras and grin. “you mean you’ve never been in here before?”

ellie frowns. “i’m gay, not suicidal.”

you laugh, loud and bright, and the sound makes her smile, even if her ears are beet red.

she keeps her hands shoved in the front pocket of her hoodie. doesn’t touch anything. doesn’t even look too long at any single item, in case it kills her.

you, on the other hand, are in your element.

you move through the store like a dream, trailing your fingers over lace, pausing to hold up sheer teddies and corsets, tossing matching panties over your arm like it’s a fashion show and you’re the star. you pick up a strappy red bra and turn toward her, holding it against your chest.

“this one?” you ask.

ellie swallows. loudly. “jesus christ.”

you smirk. “so… yes?”

“yeah. definitely. that’s gonna haunt me in the best way.”

you pick up a few more pieces - pale blue, black silk, something sheer and embroidered with little moons and stars - and disappear into the dressing room with a wink.

ellie stands awkwardly outside, pretending to browse a rack of crotchless boyshorts. she checks her phone. bounces on the balls of her feet. almost asks the assistant if they have snacks, then realises that’s a completely insane thing to do in a lingerie store and shuts up.

then, your voice calls out from behind the curtain:

“babe?”

her heart stutters. “yeah?”

“can you come help me zip this?”

she drops her phone. literally drops it.

fumbles to pick it up. wipes her palms on her jeans. tries to act like her pulse isn’t pounding in her ears as she stumbles toward the back room like she’s walking toward her execution.

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the curtain slides shut behind her.

and ellie’s knees immediately go weak.

you’re standing in front of a full-length mirror in the softest, sexiest thing she’s ever seen. lavender lace. bare back. garter belt. stockings hugging your thighs. your skin glowing under the warm lights, the soft sheen of the fabric clinging to every curve like it was custom made for you.

you glance at her over your shoulder, all doe-eyed and dangerous. “can you zip it?”

ellie doesn’t answer. she just stares.

she looks like she’s in pain. mouth open. eyes wide. her gaze drags from your heels to your thighs to your hips to your back to your shoulders to your lips. she shifts on her feet like she’s trying to adjust herself without making it obvious, but you notice. of course you do.

you always do.

you smile slowly. “you okay, el?”

she clears her throat and steps forward. her hands are shaking as she reaches for the zipper. she’s so careful. touches you like you’re breakable. her fingers brush your spine and she jolts like she touched a live wire.

“i’m fine,” she lies, softly. “so fine. doing amazing. really holding it together.”

you turn to face her, and her mouth parts helplessly.

“do you like it?” you murmur.

“‘like’ is the understatement of the century,” she says. “i’m actually blacking out a little. Is that normal?”

you step closer. she doesn’t move away. she never does.

“i’ve got a few more to try,” you say. “want to help me with the rest?”

she exhales shakily. “this is a trap.”

you hum. “maybe.”

“you’re gonna be the death of me.”

“i hope so.”

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you model four more outfits.

with each one, ellie unravels a little more.

the second is all black mesh with star embroidery. the third is a deep red strappy set that leaves very, very little to the imagination. the fourth has tiny silk bows and pearl accents. the fifth, the final one, is so sheer you have to cover your nipples when you step out just to give her a chance.

she stares. frozen. absolutely wrecked.

you cross the room, slide your arms around her neck, and lean in until your lips brush her ear.

“i’m getting this one.”

she makes a noise, something breathless and desperate, and rests her forehead on your shoulder.

“you’re evil,” she whispers. “this is psychological warfare.”

you kiss her jaw. “you love it.”

“i do,” she groans. “that’s the worst part.”

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at checkout, ellie carries the bags like they’re sacred objects.

she hasn’t made eye contact with anyone in ten minutes. her ears are bright red. her face is still flushed. you hand the cashier your card and glance back at her, amused.

“you’re very quiet.”

“i’m recovering,” she mutters.

“from what?”

she glares at you, eyes glassy. “you flashed your ass at me in four different colours and then smiled like it was nothing. i saw your nipples through lace. that wasn’t just ‘nothing.’ that was a religious experience.”

you giggle and slide your arm through hers as you leave the store.

she’s still dazed when you reach the car.

you lean against the passenger door and grin. “wanna come back to mine?”

she nods immediately. “yes. oh my god. please.”

“for what?”

“closure. a cold shower. therapy. a full spiritual reset.”

you lean in, kiss her cheek, lips sticky with gloss. “i’ll wear the red one.”

she nearly walks into a parked car.

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perm taglist: @yasmilks , @natsheretic , @lovemiraamira , @ellies-real-wife , @wewerewildandfluorescent , @jullsii , @eyesttokill , @dmenby3100 , @bunchogravie , @oneinameliann , @intheshadowofthestars , @pariiissssssss , @vanpalmertruther , @madsxh1022 , @rbnvrnxoxo , @firefly-ace , @alyaserrax , @silly-pigeon69 , @glassofgreenteapls , @pearlsiie , @aj0elap0l0gist , @sincerelyherz , @imsiriuslycool , @0phantom0 , @ggutpunch , @leeidk87 , @mikellie <3

[spicedcherrylolli]

'do you think you're superior for not using AI in your work' thank you for asking! yes i do

[spicedcherrylolli]

the night shift

content warnings : smoking + first time smoking. ellie is implied to be a little older. kinda barely a slow-burn.

pairing : line cook!ellie x waitress!reader

it's eleven p.m. during your night shift at the local twenty-four-hour diner. you're doing side work, mostly wiping down sticky menus and topping off coffee mugs for passing truckers.

the place is quiet, almost comfortably so. the flicker of fluorescent lights overhead and the low hum of an old jukebox keeps you grounded, lulled by routine. there wasn't much staff needed for the night shift in such a small town, only two cooks, two waitresses, two busboys and one manager.

as you finish stacking the last of the menus, your eyes drift to the kitchen. she's there again — leaning back against the grill, arms crossed across her stained black apron. the auburn haired cook. she's nothing but rough hands and tired eyes, the type who keeps her head down and never speaks more than what's needed.

you linger for a second, watching the way the lights catch on the side of her face. you've been working alongside her for a few weeks now, but she's still a total mystery — quiet, distant, unreadable.

your attention is pulled from ellie's figure by a quiet, rough, "excuse me?" you turn to see the older man you've been waiting on. "the bill and tip are on the table, hun," he says with a soft smile. you nod, mirroring the expression, "thank you. have a safe drive."

you move efficiently, bussing the table — pocketing the tip and bill separately, stacking the used plate and coffee mug, and wiping the surface down before heading to the bus tub conveniently next to ellie. the perfect excuse. "you good on plates?" you ask, wiping your hands on your own apron, voice coming out softer than intended.

ellie looks up, just barely. there's a flicker of something in her eyes — it's hard to tell what, though. she nods once, slow. "yeah, all good," she answers, voice rough like gravel. you hover for a second longer, pretending to check the ticket rail even though you both know there's nothing there.

really, you're just trying to figure out where to take this conversation. but before you can speak, ellie beats you to it. "well, i'm gonna go smoke." she mutters, already untangling her apron ties. you watch her go, a little dumbfounded. "okay."

the heavy back door swings shut behind her with a dull thud, you let out a quiet, frustrated groan and turn toward the register. you scan the table's ticket, fingers sifting through the bills the man gave you, and close the tab with a few presses.

your eyes sweep over the empty floor — just two occupied tables now, only one being yours. both people still nursing comfortably on their coffees. good. that's good. still, your gaze pulls toward the back door.

you glance at your table again. still sipping, still quiet. you've got time. before you can talk yourself out of it, you're already moving — pushing through the heavy door leading to the back of the building. the cool air hits you the second you step out, biting at your skin.

ellie doesn't really acknowledge you. only a glance, quick and unreadable, before she taps the excess ash off her cigarette and takes a slow, steady drag.

"so.. what are you smoking?" you ask, immediately regretting how eager you sound. mentally, you wince. god, you're such a chaser. ellie exhales slow, the smoke unfurling past her lips and disappearing into the night air. "marlboro reds. real classy, y'know?" there's the slightest twitch at the corner of her mouth. barely a smirk. like she might be amused, but she's not about to let you know for sure.

she takes another drag, saying nothing else. but she doesn't tell you to leave, either. progress? you hoped so.

"i've always wanted to try them before," you offer. total lie, but she didn't know that. ellie's throat bobs as she swallows a laugh, releasing her signature but rare chuckle. "yeah?"

you nod, maybe a little too quickly. "yeah."

ellie watches you for a second, then pulls the cigarette from her lips and taps ash onto the concrete again. "you sure?" she questions, "didn't think your crowd was into anything that didn't taste like fruit punch."

your brows lift. "my crowd?" she shrugs, not quite looking at you. "yeah. y’know." it's not exactly a jab, but it lands close enough to make your face warm. "i can handle it. you're not that much older than me."

something shifts in the auburn's expression — just for a fleeting moment. the usual guarded look gives way to a faint sense of amusement. "oh yeah?" she says, the smirk tugging on the corner of her mouth more visibly. "and how d'ya know that?"

your mouth opens, then shuts. you weren't expecting her to put you on the spot like that — not with that barely-there smirk that makes your stomach flip. "oh, i don't-" you admit, eyes dropping to the ground for a beat, laughing nervously. "only guessing."

ellie probably definitely knows you're full of shit, but she doesn't call you out. instead, she clears her throat and pushes off the wall, stepping closer, the glow of the cigarette still warm between her fingers. "you okay with finishing a used one?" she asks, holding it out.

you nod before you register what she asked, but you don't care. you were finally getting close to her after weeks of subtly hitting on a brick wall. "yeah— yeah, that's fine."

your fingers brush hers as you take the cigarette, and it's enough to make your pulse stutter. you awkwardly bring it to your lips, a little clumsy, your grip unsure. the inhale you managed is too shallow. ellie doesn't laugh. doesn't tease. "not like that," she says, quiet but firm, stepping in and reaching out to take over the holding, "here."

she angles it for you, her knuckles grazing your hand, and when you look up, her piercing green eyes are already locked on your wide, doe-like ones. "try again," she murmurs. "slower this time." you nod, almost forgetting to breathe altogether. still, you manage.

it's better. closer to what you pictured in your head. then comes the cough — sharp, chest-deep. you wince, eyes watering. throat burning. ellie doesn't flinch, only lets out a low chuckle, but not unkind. "knew you couldn't—"

the sound of the heavy back door swinging open cuts through the soft hum of the quiet conversation. it's the manager. his voice barrels through the air. "ellie! get the hell inside! we been lookin' for you!"

the manager doesn't wait for a response, knowing ellie wouldn't even bother arguing. ellie rolls her eyes, the moment gone as quickly as it came. you watch it happen — watch the shift, the subtle way she pulls the guard back up like muscle memory or something.

she steps back, muttering under her breath, "gotta get back." she then presses the cigarette into the wall, snuffing it out with a practiced twist before letting the bud drop to the cool concrete below. no look back.

just gone.

you stay where you are for a moment, alone in the quiet hum of the night. the door thuds shut behind her, and you take a deep breath, the crisp air comfortably filling your lungs, cooling that burn in your throat. it grounds you. you exhale shakily, hands smoothing over your apron, trying to shake the nerves still buzzing in your fingertips. you had her.. didn't you?

with one last steady breath, you push open the door and step back inside. the diner feels louder somehow, but it's not. just a new trucker settling into one of your tables, already flipping through the menu with tired eyes.

but your gaze doesn't linger on him for long. no. it finds ellie.

she's already back behind the line, sleeves rolled, apron snug on her frame, hands moving like nothing happened. cool as ever. unbothered. who knew someone could make grilling bacon look so fucking sexy?

still — you saw something. just for a second. and you'll get her to show it again. that's what you decided, right then, as you head toward your newly occupied table.

[spicedcherrylolli]

someone sedate me now

[spicedcherrylolli]

A fucking need!🥺💜

[spicedcherrylolli]

texting loser!ellie that you have nipple piercing in class 2

nerdy loser!ellie x popular mean fem!reader

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

texting loser!ellie that you have nipple piercing in class 1

The hallway was loud in that late afternoon way—sneakers squeaking, lockers slamming, voices overlapping with end-of-day laughter and plans.

You slammed your locker shut a little too hard, and of course, because the universe hated you or just liked messing with you, half your shit tumbled straight onto the floor. Notebook, pen, lip gloss, a crumpled worksheet you didn’t even remember stuffing in there.

You sighed through your nose, already crouching — except someone beat you to it.

Ellie.

Hoodie half-zipped, guitar case strapped to her back, a mess of books pressed to her side like she was trying not to drop them too. She crouched down silently and started picking up your things like it wasn’t weird.

You stared at her.

She didn’t say anything. Just gather your stuff with careful fingers and then stand, holding it out.

“Here.”

You took it. Didn’t really look at her. “Thanks.”

You turned back to your locker to re-slam it shut properly and spin the lock. You glanced at her. She was still there. Looking at you. Kind of.

You raised your eyebrows. “What?”

She looked like she was about to say something—her mouth opened just slightly—but nothing came out. Her gaze flicked down, then back up. Whatever it was, she swallowed it.

Turning, she walked off fast, slipping into the crowd of students in the hall like she hadn’t just hesitated in front of you for too long.

You frowned after her.

Then, right on cue, your friends slid up beside you like sharks sensing blood in the water.

One of them leaned against your locker, twirling her keys. “Ew. Were you talking to that lesbo?”

You didn’t even blink. “No.”

You started walking before they could say anything else, bag swinging off one shoulder, the hallway stretching ahead.

“Are you coming to Tyler’s party or not?” another one of them shouted after you. “You said maybe!”

You rolled your eyes and didn’t answer. You didn’t want to go to another party. Not tonight. Not with them.

Not when — you pulled your phone out, thumb brushing over the screen — you had more interesting things to do.

Like talk to E.

Your room was quiet, save for the low hum of music from your speaker—some indie playlist you didn’t even recognize anymore. You were lying on your stomach, legs swinging idly behind you, chin resting in your hand.

Your phone sat right in front of you. Screen still lit.

E:

I’M IN CLASS T_T

ur insane for this (i’ve been blessed)

how AM I supposed to FOCUS after this ???

You smiled.

One of those dumb little smiles that slipped out before you could stop it. The kind you’d hide if anyone else was around. But no one was. Just you. And her. And the heat still humming under your skin from earlier.

You were about to finally reply when the dots popped up again.

She was typing.

One message.

two. three, four—

E:

care to reply?

i wanna ask something, can i?

what did you think when you sent that pic to me…

what are you thinking now? ?

BRO

don’t leave me hanging

You let out a short laugh, pressing your cheek to the back of your hand. She was spiraling. A little desperate. It was cute.

You waited a beat. Then started typing.

You:

what was i thinking?

nothing really.

just wanted to show it to you ;)

She didn’t respond right away. You watched the read receipt hover.

E:

u always send stuff like that to ppl on here?

You paused. Fingers resting above the keyboard.

You:

what

no

ur the only one who gets to see that

Maybe it was too honest. But you didn’t unsend it.

This time, the three dots didn’t show up right away. You just stared at your screen. Waiting.

You grinned at the screen, still resting on your elbows, fingers hovering as you typed slow—on purpose.

You:

do u wanna see the other one?

You watched the “delivered” turn to “read” almost instantly.

Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Came back again.

E:

what other one…

A pause.

E:

U HAVE TWO NIPPLE PIERCINGS??

You snorted so hard it startled even you. You dropped your head into the crook of your arm, shoulders shaking as the messages kept coming in.

E:

why would u say that to me

how could u drop that like it’s casual

i’m in distress

i’m literally sweating rn

oh my god do u actually??

You didn’t answer right away. You let her spin out.

You:

u okay over there?

Another pause.

E:

no.

u can’t just hot girl drop that and then vanish.

not when i have a brain

and nerves

and a vivid imagination

this is cruelty. actual cruelty.

You were fully grinning now, cheeks warm against your arm, kicking your feet behind you like you weren’t being a menace on purpose.

You:

i’m just saying

you asked for weird

and i deliver

xx

E:

okay then what's your favorite color

i am just a fragile nerd go easy on me

You rolled onto your back, holding your phone over your face now. As much as you liked getting reactions out of her, there was something genuinely fun about it.

Like she made it easy to be just a little unhinged.

You:

pink :p

what is your favorite color?

The dots appeared instantly.

E:

green :B

(but like the gross kind. forest green. sweater green. mossy swamp witch green)

You laughed under your breath, thumbs already moving.

You:

that is such a weirdly specific shade

u could’ve just said “green” like a normal person

E:

normal is boring

u said so yourself

You paused, smiling a little.

You:

okay moss witch

what’s ur favorite movie

E:

wtf

why is this suddenly 20 questions

r u trying to date me or smth

You rolled onto your side, tucking your pillow under your cheek as your smile stretched into something smug.

You:

idk

maybe

depends on ur answer

Three dots. Pause. Then—

E:

spiderverse

but if you tell anyone i’ll lie

You:

that’s such a loser pick

i respect it tho

10/10 taste

E:

good

i was worried ur opinion might ruin my whole night

You giggled softly, shutting your eyes for a second. It was late now—later than you realized. You rolled onto your side, phone cradled in your hand, the screen's soft glow painting your pillow in blue light. Music still hummed low in the background.

Your thumbs hovered before you typed, casual like always, even though your heart tugged just slightly.

You:

i feel like we'd get along in real life, if ever. don’t u think?

She read it quickly. Typing bubble appeared immediately, like she’d been waiting.

E:

uh, well... u have a lot of friends

i mean

it's obvious

with what you’ve told me before

You blinked.

Friends?

Yeah, you had them. Too many, maybe. But somehow, the way she said it—it didn’t sound like a compliment.

Your brows pinched.

You:

does it really show?

E:

yeah

you’re like the type of person everyone wants to be around

You:

not really. some people hate me

say i’m a bitch

which is true

There was only a one-second pause before her reply landed.

E:

bitch is cool

i don’t mind u bitching me around

JK

Your laugh broke out, a little too loud for how late it was. You buried your face in your arm to muffle it, shaking your head.

You:

what

what did u say

really huh

E:

i mean

it’s u

Your fingers froze for a second. Your stomach did a weird flip.

You:

me??

u don’t even know me like that

There was a long pause—just long enough to make you think maybe she wasn't going to answer at all.

E:

i know things

You scoffed quietly, rolling your eyes, but the grin tugging at your lips gave you away. It was stupid. She was stupid. But God, she was good at this.

You pulled your pillow closer, half-buried your face in it, then typed:

You:

sounds creepy when u say it like that

E:

we’ve been talking for two weeks

i like… have a little voice of u in my head now

like a little devil

whispering shit i shouldn’t do

You blinked, smiling slowly. There was something shameless about that last part. Something that curled warm in your stomach. She didn’t even try to sound casual. She just… said it.

You:

what kind of shit?

👀

E:

nope

not letting u turn this around on me

u already sent me to horny jail once today

You laughed into your pillow, your cheeks heating again even though you were totally alone.

You:

fine

but admit it

u like having me in ur head

E:

maybe

depends

does the little devil voice wanna come over and ruin my life more

You bit your lip, heart doing that dumb lurch it always did when she got bold like this. And God, she was getting bolder.

You:

that depends too

how ruinable is ur life rn

E:

hanging by a thread

try me

You closed your eyes for a second, just feeling your pulse, your grin, the way your legs kicked lazily behind you like you were thirteen again and falling in love with someone you hadn’t even seen.

You:

u flirting with me?

E:

no

i’m letting the devil in

You stayed up talking to her until 3 a.m. It wasn’t even deep shit. It wasn’t I had a rough childhood or let me tell you about my dreams kind of talk. It was mostly stupid stuff. Like whether grilled cheese should be dipped in ketchup or soup. Which celebrities you’d punch if given the chance. What your weirdest recurring dream was. (Hers involved being chased by a swarm of bees through IKEA. You still weren’t over it.)

Somewhere around 2:17, your jaw started to ache from smiling so much. Not even joking. Like actual muscle fatigue. And yet you kept texting her. Kept laughing into your pillow like an idiot. Kept rereading her replies while the night blurred and softened around the glow of your screen.

By the time your alarm went off at 6:15, you were practically in mourning.

Now, here you were.

First period: Calculus. A.k.a. hell.

You were slumped in your seat, hoodie pulled over your head like armor, the room lit in that offensive fluorescent way that made everything feel worse. Your chin was cradled in your palm, elbow sliding ever so slightly with each nod of your head.

The teacher’s voice was doing that thing again—half English, half pure math. Something about integrals. Limits. Derivatives. You didn’t know. You weren’t listening. You were floating somewhere between consciousness and dreaming of accidentally sleeping.

Your eyelids fluttered.

So close. And warm.

“Miss Williams. Forty-five minutes late.”

The sharp voice sliced through your haze like a ruler to the knuckles.

You lifted your head just enough to blink toward the front of the room.

Ellie.

Hood up, headphones half-shoved into her backpack. She looked like she’d just walked out of a crime scene and into a math test.

The professor didn’t even let her sit down yet.

“Just because you’re good at calculus doesn’t mean the rules don’t apply to you,” she snapped, arms crossed. “It’s called structure. You should try it.”

Ellie didn’t look up. Just gave a low, mumbled “Sorry,” and slid into her seat like she was trying to disappear into it.

You watched her from behind your sleeve. Her hair was still messy. Hoodie sleeves too long. Her fingers drummed quietly against her notebook, eyes half-lidded but still pretending to care.

Your head started to dip again.

Just a little.

Almost resting.

“And you,” the teacher snapped suddenly, her voice slicing sideways now. “If you’re so tired you can’t keep your head up, maybe you should’ve just stayed home and slept.”

Your heart did a lazy flip as you blinked up, caught off guard.

She was talking to you.

Of course she was.

You straightened, barely. “Wasn’t sleeping.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” she muttered, turning back to the board like she hadn’t just publicly executed you. “Some of us actually care about your education.”

You resisted the very real urge to groan. Instead, you blinked slowly and stabbed her in the forehead with your eyes. In your head.

Can’t a girl be sleepy in peace?

What is this, the military?

You tugged your hoodie further over your eyes and sank back down.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. Just once—soft, stealthy, like it knew you were in the middle of being very publicly humiliated and wanted to offer comfort.

You pulled it out, just enough to see the screen under the desk.

E:

good morning :>

how’s ur morning so far?

You stared at it for a second, lips twitching. You could still hear the teacher yammering on at the whiteboard, numbers flying across the screen like you were in A Beautiful Mind but with less genius and more exhaustion.

At least I get good morning texts like this.

Some people have coffee. I have this girl.

You ducked your head a little lower and typed back.

You:

hell

the teacher just publicly executed me

im texting u from the afterlife

Three dots popped up immediately.

E:

LMAOO

i told u not to stay up

now ur a corpse

a hot corpse

You bit back a laugh, teeth sinking into your lip as you stared at the screen. Your cheeks warmed, because it was stupid—but it worked. She worked.

You:

i’m haunting this class

spreading sleepy bitch energy

ur next btw

E:

oh i know

i got reaped by the attendance lady this morning

she called me “wasted potential”

i feel like a tragic poet

You:

u are

i bet ur writing limericks in ur notes

E:

nah

drawing boobs on the back page

stay humble

You pressed your fist to your mouth, hiding the very real giggle that almost escaped.

From the front of the room, the teacher said something about derivatives again. You didn’t care. E was texting you about boobs at 9:03 a.m. and somehow it felt like a gift.

E:

u look hot rn i bet

You blinked, then huffed quietly through your nose. You typed back.

You:

nope. i’m wearing a hoodie :( i look like a tired thumb

E:

and? it suits u

You bit your lip, eyes flicking up toward the front of the classroom where your teacher was scribbling something on the whiteboard that may as well have been ancient code.

You:

i don’t wear hoodies at school

it’s illegal

E:

i’m wearing a hoodie rn :)

You:

lmao that suits u

You settled back in your chair, hoodie still over your head like armor, as you typed again.

You:

i only wore it now bc i have bags under my eyes the size of my regrets

E:

aw :[

last night worn u out huh

let me buy u something

what do u want

You squinted at your screen, half amused, half melting.

You:

wait fr

ur buying me coffee??

E:

duh

i take care of the girl i ruin

You:

YEY

i want a croissant and like

a gallon of sugar

You grinned stupidly at your screen, letting your cheek fall against your hand again. You didn’t even know where she lived. For all you knew, she was across the country, or halfway across the world.

But the thought of her—wherever she was—thinking of you first thing in the morning?

That was enough.

E:

done

now look dramatically out the window like ur waiting for me

You snorted, resisting the urge to do exactly that.

tag list:

@eclipcee8 @darkdanixoxo @chappellroankisser @senjukawaragitr @saverdelrey @appleofmyii @wzcoffeefloomo @fatbootymuncher @oneinameliann @ilahrawr @spiderx18 @vampirq @mioluvzsevika @ff4mi @ggutpunch @ellies-dinosaur @butchchase @bambiaches @velvetinkbym @rhian88

[spicedcherrylolli]

texting loser!ellie that you have nipple piercing in class

nerdy loser!ellie x popular mean fem!reader

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

texting loser!ellie that you have nipple piercing in class 2

You were already five minutes into tuning out Miss Alvarez’s ongoing dissection of The Great Gatsby—something about disillusionment, green lights, and doomed men with god complexes. Hard pass.

Your friends beside and behind you were snickering about something—probably someone—but you were too bored to care. Their laughter filtered through like white noise, low and distant.

So, as usual, you turned to the one thing that offered any real entertainment when boredom hit terminal levels. You checked your notifications, cleared out stupid texts from stupid boys, and finally opened that app.

Before doing anything, you glanced around lazily, then dropped your screen brightness and tilted your phone just enough to make sure no one behind you could peek. The layout loaded instantly, familiar and weirdly comforting. No photos, just bios, vague usernames, and chat boxes that were a little too easy to open.

You scrolled through a few profiles aimlessly before switching tabs and landing on your ongoing conversation with someone under the name E.

You’d been messaging back and forth for almost two weeks now. You didn’t know who she was, not really—just that she was clever, a little snarky, and definitely someone who knew how to keep you engaged without even trying. Sometimes it felt like talking to a complete stranger. Sometimes it felt like she knew you better than half the people at this school.

You stared at the last message she’d sent you last night, the one you’d read four or five times even though it was short and kind of innocent.

E:

“i love reading :]”

Your thumb hovered for a second before you started typing, slouched low in your chair, phone hidden beneath the desk. You tried not to smirk as the words appeared.

You:

what if we kissed behind the nonfiction aisle jk unless??

You set your phone down and pretended to scribble something on your notebook, resting your cheek against your hand, bored again within seconds. The teacher’s voice faded into a drone. You started writing nonsense loops with your pen, not really listening to anything anymore.

A buzz cut through the room. Not yours. Loud. Sharp.

You blinked up. Ellie Williams, seated near the front, fumbled to silence her phone while the screen lit up in her hand.

“Please turn that off, Miss Williams,” Miss Alvarez snapped without missing a beat.

A few classmates laughed quietly. Ellie didn’t say anything, just shrugged like she couldn’t care less and slid her phone into her lap.

You went back to wasting ink, your pen dragging over the edge of the page as your phone buzzed, quiet and controlled this time—just once, the vibration barely a tick beneath your palm.

You flipped it open carefully and read her reply.

E:

only if you promise to dog-ear my soul and underline my bad habits

You blinked, raising an eyebrow at her reply.

You stared at the message a little longer than you meant to, eyes dragging over the words again—dog-ear my soul, underline my bad habits. You weren’t sure if it was weird or kind of... brilliant. Either way, it hit somewhere low in your stomach.

You glanced up lazily, scanning the room like it’d help ground you. Miss Alvarez was still going, pacing at the front of the classroom with a paperback copy of Gatsby clenched in one hand. Your friends were still whispering behind you—some drama, someone’s hair, someone’s outfit. None of it mattered.

You typed back.

You:

what bad habits?

name three rn.

You sent it and immediately slid your phone under your notebook like you’d done something criminal. Your pen moved again, looping nonsense in the margins, but your heart was thudding a little now.

The reply came faster than you expected.

E:

falling for girls i shouldn’t

answering texts in class

making it way too obvious when it’s you

Your brow furrowed instinctively. The message was clever, yeah, but the third line sat wrong in your chest.

You typed before thinking.

You:

weird

That was it. No emoji. No punctuation. Just the word sitting there like a raised eyebrow.

You waited.

Her response didn’t take long.

E:

everyone’s a little weird.

some of us just hide it better.

You scoffed quietly through your nose, thumb hovering over your keyboard.

You:

i’m not.

E:

pls.

everyone’s weird.

even you, i know

You hesitated, eyes flicking up again, like anyone in this room might somehow be listening in on this dumb conversation through sheer telepathy.

You went back to your screen.

You:

ok then

tell me 3 weird things about you

You tossed the phone back under your notebook, leaned your head on your hand again, and tried not to look as keyed-up as you felt.

The buzz came just as you started drawing a rectangle around nothing in your notes.

E:

i know how to pick locks.

once convinced a teacher i was allergic to chalk to skip a presentation.

i wear rings just to fidget with them when i’m lying.

You stared at it, unsure whether to laugh or raise your guard. You weren’t sure if she was trying to impress you, scare you, or lowkey admit she was a professional liar.

The last one made you pause. You pictured it—hands, silver rings, nervous fidgeting. You glanced around the classroom like the answer might be hiding between pencil cases and Gatsby annotations.

You looked away quickly, back down at your screen.

You:

well that’s very u

you wanna know 3 things about me?

A second passed.

E:

sure :]

You typed, trying not to overthink it.

You:

i once cried because my nail broke before a party

i memorize random license plates when i’m bored

You paused, rereading the first two. They were fine. Harmless. The kind of “weird” that still sounded cute if someone repeated it out loud. The kind of weird that kept your walls up just enough.

And then, without really thinking—or maybe thinking too much—you typed the third.

You:

i have a nipple piercing

You stared at it for a second before hitting send, lips twitching.

Delivered.

You kept your phone down in your hand and leaned back in your chair like you didn’t just casually confess one of the most insane things you’d ever told a stranger.

You felt the beat of your pulse in your throat as you stared straight ahead, pretending to care about whatever Miss Alvarez was saying about Gatsby’s “moral decay,” while your phone sat under your hand like a loaded weapon.

You glanced down when you felt another buzz.

E:

what the hell

you can’t just drop that as number three like it’s nothing

You snorted. Quiet. Sharp. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep it contained.

E:

i’m rereading it

you said “i have a nipple piercing” like i say “i had cereal this morning”

You tapped your fingers against your notebook, smirking a little now.

Another message popped up before you could even open your keyboard.

E:

who gave you the right

You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. There was something kind of stupid and hilarious about watching a stranger completely spiral over a throwaway confession. It was stupid and thrilling.

You finally replied.

You:

u said u wanted weird

don’t complain now

The three dots appeared immediately.

They vanished.

Then reappeared.

E:

you’re lucky we’re in public right now

because i have questions

You stared at the screen for half a second longer than you should, something sharp curling at the edges of your mouth. You knew exactly what you were doing.

You:

u wanna see?

lmao jk

but ??

You didn’t move. You just sat there with your phone tucked beneath your hand, like you hadn’t just said the most unhinged thing of your entire academic career. (Well, obviously—because you only let this side of you out with girls.)

E:

JAIL.

straight to jail.

You pressed your knuckles against your lips to keep the sound in. You could feel the heat in your cheeks now, but you were smiling. Fully smiling. You hadn’t even noticed that Miss Alvarez called on someone, that your friends had gone quiet behind you, or that class was dangerously close to ending.

Your phone buzzed again.

E:

i mean

not no

but also

JAIL

You let out a breath through your nose and replied, just two words:

You:

thought so

You didn’t expect her to respond immediately.

The bell hadn’t even rung yet. The room still buzzed with half-bored energy. Your phone was still in your palm, screen lit from her last message.

You stared at it for a second, letting the silence settle. Letting the grin fade into something more calculated. You tucked your phone into your hoodie pocket, raised your hand just high enough to get Miss Alvarez’s attention without actually trying.

“Bathroom?” you asked, already standing halfway.

Miss Alvarez waved you off with a distracted, “Be quick.”

You slipped out of the classroom with your bag slung over your shoulder, heart pounding like you’d done something criminal—which, to be fair, you were about to.

The hallway was quiet. Most people were still trapped in last-period misery. You headed straight for the nearest bathroom—one of the nicer ones. Clean mirrors, locked stalls, no broken soap dispensers.

You locked yourself inside and exhaled.

For a second, you just stood there. Not thinking. Not second-guessing. Just staring at your reflection like you were waiting for her to dare you again.

You slid your phone out, opened the camera. Angled it in front of your opened blouse—not too obvious, not too graphic. Just enough. A glimpse of skin. A flash of silver.

Sent.

You:

proof

(bc apparently ur dramatic)

You locked your phone immediately after, heart hammering in your ears. You didn’t even wait to see if she replied. You just breathed. Stared at the stall door.

Your phone buzzed.

Three times.

That was enough.

You didn’t open it.

You slipped your phone back into your pocket, smirk already tugging at your lips, and unlocked the stall.

Your reflection was flushed. Just slightly. Lips pink. Expression smug.

By the time you pushed open the classroom door, everything looked the same—except you knew it wasn’t.

You walked in like nothing happened.

You were halfway down the aisle toward your desk when you passed Ellie.

She was still slouched in her chair, pretending to read the half-assed notes on her desk. But you caught the way her eyes flicked up the second your steps slowed.

Your eyes met.

Her mouth was slightly parted as her eyes followed you.

You raised an eyebrow, just barely, and kept walking.

You dropped into your seat with the same calm as before, tossing your bag down, and shot a knowing smirk at your friends—who were, of course, snickering over something unrelated and way less interesting.

You spun your pen lazily between your fingers, shoulders loose.

For some reason, your gaze landed on Ellie again.

She was still looking at you. Watching you.

You raised your eyebrows again, sharper this time—What?—the kind of look that always worked on everyone. The kind that meant quit staring.

Her gaze raked over you, slow and unreadable, and you frowned without meaning to. Just as you turned back around, you caught it—the faintest smirk tugging at her lips before her eyes flicked forward like nothing happened.

You rolled your eyes, turned around, and smiled to yourself as you pressed your thumb against your phone screen.

[spicedcherrylolli]

Make-up

Sky x Sevika

You know that one picture of that girl sitting on that other girl while doing her makeup? Yeah. Sky and Sevika should have been endgame. Enjoy this fluffy goodness.

“You’re falling asleep.” Sky whined, dragging the concealer under the winged liner. 

Sky should have known that doing her girlfriend's makeup while in bed would lead to this. But she couldn't resist the chance of sitting on her lap while playing with her makeup. Sevika's strong arms wrapped around her, hands exploring whatever skin was exposed as Sky hunched over her work.

“You told me to keep my eyes closed for this part, so that’s what I’m doing.” Sevika grumbled, her hand rubbing up and down the side of Sky’s thigh. 

“Because you keep staring at me while I work!” She explained as she blended, her face feeling warm. 

“Where else am I supposed to look?” Even with her eyes closed she was still expressive, arching her brow. 

“I don’t know, anywhere else!” She giggled as she finished the eye portion. “Okay, now you can open them and you can look at me.” 

Sevika did so, staring straight up at Sky with her pupils growing in adoration. Fighting the urge to smile, Sky turned to grab some lip liner. 

“You know you’re real pretty when you get flustered.” Sevika purred with a smirk, her hand making its way up to Sky’s waist, sneaking under her shirt. 

“Hush. We’re moving on to the lips.” 

“Finally.” Sevika groaned. 

Her hand went to the back of Sky’s neck, pulling her down to her lips as she squealed with delight. 

“Let. Me. Line. Your. Lips. Sevika!” Sky giggled in between kisses. 

“Fine.” She finally released her, smirk plastered on her smug face. 

"Just be patient, this is the last step." She reassured her as she fished through her makeup bag, pulling out a lip liner and lipstick.

"This better be, you said that two steps ago." She grumbled as Sky worked.

"Because I was originally going for a natural look. But I really need to see this color on you."

After finally lining she popped open the lipstick tube and filled in her full lips. That's when she finished, beaming proudly at her girl.

"Done?" Sevika asked.

"Yes."

"Do I look pretty?"

"You always look pretty, baby. But yes, you look pretty. Beautiful."

Sevika sat up, grabbing Sky's jaw, and pulling her in for a kiss.

"Wait!" Sky said as she pulled away. "I forgot the setting spray!" She reached for her bag.

"No, no! We're done!" Sevika groaned, pushing her down on the bed, and caging her in.

"But I need to set it!" She squealed as she smothered her in kisses.

"Shut up and kiss me!" She laughed, falling more in love as their lips met, the two of them still smiling.

[spicedcherrylolli]

if only I knew how to draw bc I desperately need to see Sevika in black dickies, a gold belt chain, and a white ribbed tank top !! worn out vans (yellow). The vision is in my head 😵‍💫

…with a skateboard !!

[spicedcherrylolli]

cam girl reader x perv abby

tw: this is terrible but oh well

cw: lesbian sex, strap on sex, abby is older than reader, oral sex, use of a vibrator, some aftercare? sex in front of a camera (livestream), and probably other stuff

you were a college student, studying art in 2025 and of course you were broke, the scholarship you got was nearly not enough for your daily expenses and an idea crossed your mind after a few videos popped on your fyp, why not start a cam girl career?

it's now been 3 months as a cam girl and honestly? best decision you ever made, you got at least 200$ for every stream and as an openly lesbian cam girl your followers were mostly girls, and older woman who were in an unhappy marriage. but of course you had a few favorites viewers who interacted with you the most and sent the most money of course.

amongst those, one of them stood up, a girl who's name you learned as soon as she hopped into your stream..

"fuck.. thank you guys for the donations.." you were fucking yourself with a vibrating wand on your clit, and your rule was, with each donations you would put the settings of the toy even higher. it was all fun and games until a certain 'muscle mommy abs' donated 100$.

"oh shit.." you moan as you turn the settings of your wand higher. "thanks 'muscle mommy abs', what's your real name?.. so i can moan it properly.." you tease with a smirk, trying to stay composed as the wand kept its assault on your clit, and as you were getting close to orgasm. then you see it pop up in the chat: "abby :)"

"fuck, please abby i'm gonna cum please can i?" you moaned, completely fucked out from the vibrations on your sensitive clit, then you saw it, abby saying something along the lines of "cum for me please." it felt so needy and desperate that it immediately threw you over the edge, cumming so hard for all of your viewers, almost squirting as you could feel the gaming chair you were on wet under you.

"shit- well thanks everyone, i guess i'm gonna end this live now and go and try to clean up, bye bye" you say before ending the live.

since that day abby has been attending every single live stream of yours, and always sending you some donations during it, hence to why she was one of your favorite, but aside from that she was just really cute

abby was a 27 years old mechanic who worked in an old crusty garage kinda lost in the middle of nowhere, but hey at least the pay was good. she's always been rather lonely true high school, and college. never had a proper girlfriend aside from some flings she's had in the past. but now that she had found her new obsession, you, a new cam girl she found online as she was just trying to get off, well there's no way that she's getting a girlfriend any soon now. abby attended your streams religiously, it was like the highlight of her day but knew that nothing else than that would happen.

until one day you made an announcement after one of your many hectic live stream; "oh my god guys by the way- wait let me get dressed-" you said before quickly putting on an oversized attack on titan shirt. "okay so, i was thinking, why not finding a way to reward my most loyal viewers right? well i though that one of you guys could maybe win a moment with me so we could live stream together?" you waited for approval of the viewers in the chat only to be met with most of them showing you their excitement in the chat.

ynsleftboob: god please make it be me i NEED to fuck you

minecrftellieee: this is the best day of my life

musclemommyabs: holy shit

behind her screen abby couldn't believe her own eyes , she actually had a chance to be with you for real. so she waited, mouth open, for you to give more details on the upcoming event. abby watched as you explained that there will be a poll and all the boring logistics before sending a link into the chat for your viewers to participate. and with little hope abby went in, filled the forms and agreed to a few terms she didn't have the patience to read before accepting.

the next few days, abby kept imagining what she would do if she actually won that event, how she would fuck you so good you'd only wanna come back to her, how she would appear on your stream and make all of the viewers jealous and how she was gonna be the one fucking you. she also took more hours at work to get more cash and buy a brand new strap on (just in case you know) and went to the gym in the little free time she had, just to get off to your videos when she got home, moaning your name and waiting for the day she would finally have you.

then saturday night came, the day of your weekly stream, but this stream was different, you wouldn't do anything really, just annonce the winner to your event, and that was more than okay to abby and probably all of your other viewers.

"oh my god hey guys!!" you said happily as you watched all of your viewers join the stream excitedly, and amongst them of course was abby, waiting for you to announce the winner. "okay i know what you're all waiting forrr" you teased with a wink, making the viewers act up in the chat. "okay okay- i'm not gonna drag this out but i just wanna say, i would've loved to make everyone happy buttt there is only one winner tonight" you smile.

abby was intently watching you, waiting for you to say the username that would get to film with you, she was hoping for it to be her but there was a little voice in her head telling her that was not possible. that was until, pulling her out of her thoughts, she heard your sweet voice, calling out her username.

"'musclemommyabs, im really glad to tell you that you're the one that's getting to spend a moment with me and will do a stream with me on here.. i also can't wait to see if your username is actually true"

abby felt her heart beat in her chest, that could not be happening. while she was trying to take in the fact that she was going to have you in real life, you were talking about how you're gonna send her a private text about the details, and before she knew it, the stream was over, and many people were still talking in the chat, disappointed about not winning.

it was now a few days later, abby was getting in her car to get to your place, which was thankfully only an hour away, she was making way too many scenarios in her head about how she was going to have you, which made the drive way quicker. when she got there, abby didn't waste a second to knock at your door, mentally preparing herself to actually see her biggest crush ever. and when you opened the door, she thought she was going to faint. there you were, wearing a soft pink robe that was clinging to your curves like it was made for you, and abby could see a bit of your pink lacy bra that was peeking out.

seeing abby in real life also made you nervous, she was older than you, taller than you, very very bulky and wearing overalls that were hanging loose at her waist, dirty security boots and a basic t shirt that made her look so good, just your type.

you couldn't hide your blushing as you welcomed her in and closing the door behind you guys. "omg hi abby, i'm so glad to see you, and you really do live up to your username." you said with a wink. with that a rush of confidence ran over abby "yeah you like what you see?" she asked getting closer to you and closing the front door behind her.

"mhm i love it.." you teased with a sultry voice, slowly undoing your robe, letting it fall on the floor, letting abby take in your brand new pink and white lingerie that you wore just for her. abby couldn't take it anymore, and fortunately for her, you knew what she was here for and vice versa. there was no more thinking when abby pushed you into the nearest wall, tilting up your head to put her lips on yours, finally, turning it into a heated makeout session as abby dominated the kiss, her hands were everywhere, you couldn't take it anymore as you ran your hands under her t-shirt, feeling her abs.

abby went down to kiss your neck, making you moan out and dig your nails into her back, abby moaning from the feeling of your acrylics on her skin. "abby- fuck.. bedroom please..". she quickly understood and threw you over her shoulder with minimal effort, which made you even wetter for her. when she found the bedroom, abby saw the place she's been seeing on her laptop for all this time in her life and couldn't believe it, she looked around for a few seconds before not wanting to lose any more time and putting you on your bed. but before abby could get on top of you, you stopped her "wait- turn on the stream please- cameras and all are already set up." abby got up with a groan before going to your laptop "how do i do this thing.." she whispered to herself before finally turning on the stream. "all good" she winked at you before crawling back on top of you and peppering kisses to your breasts as you tried to speak to the viewers. "hi guys- sorry we got a little carried away- fuck abby- um so yeah.." you stopped talking, going back to abby who was centimeters away from the place you needed her the most.

"abby please.." you begged, looking down at her. "please what?" she said, not even looking back at you as she was taking off your panties, she looked like she did not care a bit about your stream as she finally looks back at you, waiting for some more begging. "please fuck me.." you finally say, and she doesn't waste a second, licking a slow strip on your pussy, making you shiver. after a few seconds of teasing abby finally gets to it, eating you out like a starved woman and you couldn't love it more. she was sucking on your clit so deliciously, then switching to slide her tongue inside of you and rubbing your clit with her fingers, it was the best head you ever had and you were seeing stars.

"i'm gonna cum- fuck" you moaned, feeling yourself getting closer and abby couldn't be happier, "mhm?" she hummed almost as if giving you her approval and sending vibrations right to your clit, and that was it for you, you came on her tongue with a moan so loud your neighbors would probably leave notes on your door the next day. that didn't matter to abby as she kept sucking on your clit making your orgasm never ending and licking up all of your juices. when she finally stopped, you were breathless and abby had your juices all over the lower half of her face. what got you out of your "post orgasm" state was the never ending ding sounds coming from your laptop announcing new texts in the chat.

you squinted you eyes to check some of the messages

minecrftellieee: oh wow that abby girl can eat pussy

lesbiannmommy: should've been me 😔

ynswhore: how i wish i was the one eating you out like that

you smiled reading some of the messages. "you okay?" you the heard abby ask you, her hair was messy and she was still fully dressed. "mhm im great" you smile at her "but get undressed and fuck me for real now." "right away ma'am" she said before taking off her shirt and reaching for her bag to pull out her brand new strap. "bought this just for you, i hope you like it." she admits before taking off her pants, staying in her boxers and putting the strap on.

you couldn't help but blush, abby was this super hot, muscular older woman and she bought a strap on just for you, you might be falling in love right now. "fuck- you're so hot" you tell her as you watch her adjust the strap on her waist. she simply chuckled before getting back on the bed. "get on your hands and knees for me yeah? so your little viewers can really see your face while i fuck you so good you'll only remember my name". this made you even wetter than before, if that was even possible, and you quickly do as she says, putting your ass up and teasing her. "good girl.." she whispers as she gets some of your wetness to coat her strap with it, you were still sensitive so that gesture made you whine and buck against abby's hips. with that she saw how needy you were and decided to finally fuck you how you needed, she slowly sinks her strap into you, to not overwhelm you, and once she saw that you were okay, she rammed into you, hitting your g-spot so easily you didn't even know it was possible.

with abby's thrust into you it was impossible for you to stay on your hands and knees as your arms were already giving out. she quickly took notice of that and pulled you up so your back was against her chest, which made her thrusts into a different angle. "oh my god- fuck fuck abby" you whined as she fucked you so good you couldn't think. "you like that? i'm sure that feels better than all of your silly toys yeah? better when i'm there to take care of you." you whined as abby repeatedly hit your g-spot making it impossible to answer her, only whines came out of your mouth as she doubled her pace.

"fucking you so good you can't even speak yeah?" she chuckles as she kissed the back of your neck, and sliding one of her hands down to toy with your clit, and that was it for you, you came with a cry, shaking in abby's grasp, as she slowed down her thrusts, letting you ride out your orgasm. "abby- too much fuck!" she continued a few more seconds before stopping and settling you back down on the mattress. she gently caressed your back as she pulled out of you gently.

you then rolled over to get on your back, to see abby taking off the strap and going back to you. "you liked that?" she asked with a smirk, knowing already your answer. "hmm it was okay." you tease her with a wink.

after sitting up on the bed you look at your laptop to see that the chat is going crazy and you definitely beat your viewers count record, but you couldn't pay too much attention to that when abby found your favorite ever toy on your bedside table. "do you have a few more left in you? i'd love to use that thing on you after sawing you using it on yourself so much."

next thing you know, you were tied to the headboard as abby used your own vibrating wand on you, and for some reason, it felt way better than when you used it by yourself. "my god you're shaking, does it feel that good honey? you're going to cum yeah? come on cum for me." abby said, trying to make you cum one more time tonight. "no- abs.. it feels different wait wait!" you tried to warned abby but she upped to settings of the wand to the maximum, the vibrations being now way too much for you.

you couldn't handle it and you felt a strange sensation, like you were going to cum but way more intense. and before you could even stop yourself you were squirting all over the wand and abby, you couldn't help but moan so loud as the sensation was so much for you. "holy shit- that was so hot" abby was mesmerized, quickly turning down the settings to not overstimulate you.

when you finally came back to your senses you couldn't help but feel so embarrassed by what happened but abby assured you that it was the hottest thing she ever saw. you were still shaking from the intensity of your orgasm as abby brought you a towel to help you clean up before quickly turning off the stream, to the dismay of your many viewers.

"you okay?" abby asked as she kissed your forehead. "mhm yeah.. it was just so much but i loved it" you admitted looking back at her. "well, i'm glad.. i don't know if this is the right time but can i take you out for a date sometime?" she asked and you could see that she was nervous so you chuckled "of course"

[spicedcherrylolli]

sometimes i think about klance and then my brain melts. but like in a good way

[spicedcherrylolli]