#Ellis Stagger

[unmaderedemption]

Richard Armitage as Ellis Stagger in Missing You

[richardarmitagefanpage]

Richard Armitage 🤝 Harlan Coben

📷: NetflixUK

[astrovian]

Richard Armitage as Ellis Stagger in Missing You (2025)

[louk419]

New image of Richard as Ellis Stagger, taken by Vishal Sharma, unit stills photographer on Missing You.

You can now view the first 5 mins of the series https://www.netflix.com/tudum/articles/missing-you-sneak-peek

[smoky-moka]

Hello there! First off, I absolutely love your depiction of Spideypool! Second, how does Ellie get along with Peter? Does she even know he’s with her dad?

Ellie thinks Peter is awesome!!! He always helps with her homework, even when Dad's enemies are coming after her and they have to leave on one of their fun road trips, yaaay.

But don’t get it twisted— Dad’s dating Spider-Man, not Peter (She figured out they’re the same guy ages ago, but everyone's trying really hard to hide it so she plays along).

[marscardigan]

when you need the job done

neighbor!ellie williams x reader

neighbor!ellie universe

summary: moving out alone for the first time might be scary—and awfully exhausting. you’re lucky you have a very handy lesbian as a neighbor.

word count: 6.8k

THE BOX you were carrying was way too heavy. You knew it the second you stubbornly yanked it out of the trunk, but by the time you realized how unwise that was, you were already halfway up the steps to your new apartment. The one that didn't have an elevator.

A bead of sweat ran down your temple. Your arms were shaking, the cardboard creaking ominously, and you could feel the edge of a textbook digging into your thigh through the bottom of the box.

You grunted softly as you stagger forward, muttering under your breath, "okay, stupid idea, officially noted."

That’s when you heard it. A door creaking open. You looked up, flustered, and caught sight of her. A young woman that was standing in the open doorway of the unit just across the hall. Faded gray hoodie, sweatpants that sat a little too low on her hips, and a tangle of auburn hair in a messy bun that looked like it gave up halfway. One hand gripped the door frame, the other clutching a half-eaten granola bar.

She blinked at you, shocked. You offered a small, sheepish smile. "Hi."

She blinked again. "Uh—hi."

There was a beat of silence. She kept staring at you, and you shifted your weight, struggling to hold the box and at the same time balance your pride. "I, uh… just moved in."

She nodded quickly. "Yeah, no—I figured. New face. And boxes. That’s… obvious. Sorry."

You bit back a laugh. "I promise I’m not usually this pathetic. Just… long drive. Too much stuff."

Ellie snapped out of it suddenly, like her brain had just rebooted. "Shit—wait. Let me help you with that."

Before you could protest, she’s stepping forward, quickly wiping her hand on her hoodie like she just remembered she’s eating, then gently taking the box from you like she’s worried you’ll shatter if she’s too rough. And she lifted it as if it didn't weight anything. God, you're not sure if it was just the exhaustion, but was the room suddenly hotter? Or was it just you?

"Oh my god," you exhaled in relief, letting your arms drop. "Thank you. You may have just saved my spine."

She grinned softly, cheeks a little pink. "No problem. I’m Ellie, by the way."

You gave her your name, and she repeated it quietly under her breath, like she wanted to make sure she didn’t forget. It was oddly endearing.

She followed you into your apartment and gently sat the box down by the window. "Wow. You’ve got, like… a lot of books."

You glanced around at the stack of boxes marked READING / PLEASE DON’T CRUSH, smiling a little. "Guilty. I had a system, but the system kinda died somewhere around hour five of unpacking."

Ellie nodded like she got it. "Want some help? I mean—only if you want. I don’t have anything going on. Just… reorganizing my guitar pedals and regretting life choices."

You raised an eyebrow. "Guitar pedals?"

She blushed faintly. "Yeah. Music nerd. Don’t judge."

"I’d never," you replied, already walking toward the nearest box. "If you’re serious about helping, I’ve got a bookshelf I was too scared to try assembling alone."

She perked up immediately. "I’m your girl."

An hour later, Ellie was sitting cross-legged on your living room floor, her hoodie sleeves pushed up—her arm tattoo on full display, as she studied the instruction manual with a look of pure concentration.

There was a screw between her lips and her hair was falling in her face, but she didn’t seem to notice. You were lying on the rug beside her, trying not to laugh. "You look like you’re defusing a bomb."

She spat out the screw with a grin. "This is Ikea. You never know." You laughed, and Ellie beamed at the sound. "Okay, hand me the... um. That… L-shaped—thingy."

"You mean the Allen wrench?"

"Right. That. Allen. Bastard of a wrench."

You passed it to her and watched as her hands worked with practiced ease, though she was still mumbling things like 'who designed this nightmare' under her breath. After a few minutes, the pieces started to come together.

You offered her a drink from your tiny fridge, and she takes it with a soft 'thanks,' sipping while scanning the partially-built shelf.

"You know," she said casually, "this place is nice. Good lighting. Kinda cozy already."

"Think I’ll like it here."

Ellie shrugged, maybe a little too fast. "Yeah, well. I mean. You’ve got a cool neighbor, so."

You laughed, leaning your head back against the wall. "I really do."

ELLIE WAS standing at your door, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other, wiping her hands on her jeans even though she hadn’t touched anything in the past ten minutes. The bookshelf was done. The boxes were stacked a little neater. She helped more than she should have for someone who just met you, and now there’s a weird lull in the air like… okay, what happens now?

You stretched your arms overhead, groaning quietly as your back pops. "Okay, officially retiring from lifting furniture."

Ellie snorted. "You say that now. Wait until you realize you still have, like, six more boxes marked 'miscellaneous disaster'."

You groaned again, dramatically this time. "Those are tomorrow’s problems." Then, with a soft sigh, you glanced toward your hallway and say, "God, I still need to get a new bulb for the bedroom. I haven’t been able to see in there since I got here."

Ellie raises her brows. "No light at all?"

"None," you say. "And of course, I packed the lamps in the box that’s... still in my car. Which is currently blocked in by some delivery truck of doom."

There was a pause. You expected a laugh, maybe a 'good luck with that.' Instead, she played with two of her fingers awkwardly, and smiled at you. "I could take you?" she said.

You blinked. "What?"

"To the store," she shrugged, eyes darting away like she regrets offering. "I was just gonna run out and grab snacks or something anyway."

You tilted your head. "You were?"

Ellie turned red, but tried to play it cool. "Yeah. Definitely. Wasn’t just gonna, y’know, spiral alone in my apartment or anything."

You both knew that was a lie. But you laughed, and something in her posture relaxed. "Okay," you replied, smiling. "Yeah. Let’s go lightbulb hunting."

Ten minutes later, you’re both in Ellie’s dusty old truck—windows slightly cracked, and a faint smell of pine from a crooked air freshener hanging from the mirror. She was gripping the wheel like she’s trying not to white-knuckle it, sneaking occasional glances at you when she thinks you’re not looking. You’re pretty sure you caught every single one.

At the hardware store, the lightbulb section was far more overwhelming than it had any right to be. You stood in front of it together, baffled by the sheer number of wattage options.

"Why are there so many types?" you whispered.

Ellie whispered back, "capitalism."

Eventually, you grabbed the right one (after way too much debate about warm vs. cool lighting), and Ellie casually picked up a few things for herself. Chips. A soda. A pack of sour candy she pretended not to want until you caught her staring at it for a solid minute.

"You’re definitely a sour candy person," you said as she tosses it into the basket.

Ellie shrugged, cheeks pink. "You're saying that like it’s a bad thing."

You shook your head. "No, just… makes sense."

"Yeah?"

"Yep," you said softly, smiling. "It’s cute."

She froze. Didn’t say anything for five seconds. Then muttered a very quiet, 'Oh.' You pretended not to notice how red her ears go.

BACK AT YOUR apartment, it took about eight minutes to screw in the new bulb—and then you were both just… standing in your now-lit bedroom, staring at the glow like you’ve just witnessed a miracle.

"Let there be light," Ellie said reverently.

You laughed and flopped back onto your mattress dramatically. "I owe you my life."

She leaned against the doorway, hands in her hoodie pocket, watching you with the kind of soft smile she probably doesn’t even realize she’s wearing. "You don’t owe me anything."

You glanced at the clock. "You hungry?"

Ellie paused. "Me?"

"No, the bookshelf." You smirked. "Of course you, dummy. C’mon. I’m starving. And you did save my spine."

She tried to brush it off with a joke—'I do take payment in pepperoni'—but you could tell she was secretly thrilled.

Twenty-five minutes later, a pizza box was open between you on the living room floor, two paper plates balancing precariously on a stack of books. You’d strung up some fairy lights that Ellie offered to 'totally not judge you for owning,' and now the room is bathed in warm, flickering gold.

You were sitting cross-legged, a slice in hand. "God, I didn’t realize how hungry I was."

Ellie smiled behind her cup of soda. "You looked like you were gonna pass out when I showed up earlier."

"Honestly? Close."

There was a pause. She glanced at you, then down at her food, then back at you. "I’m glad you let me help," she says.

"Yeah?"

She nods, playing with a corner of the box. “I don’t… really do that. Talk to people, I mean. Not right away. But you’re… easy."

You rose an eyebrow, smirking. "Easy?"

"I mean—you’re easy to talk to,” she blurted. "Not like—not in a bad way. You just—shit. That sounded wrong."

You burst out laughing. "Relax. I know what you meant."

She groaned into her hands. "Kill me."

"Never," you laughed. There’s a lull after that. A comfortable one.

You leaned back on your hands, stretching your legs out toward her. "So what’s your story, Neighbor Ellie? Mysterious girl across the hall. Fixes furniture. Gives rides. Loves sour candy."

She gave you a look. "You clocked all that in one night?"

"I’m a fast learner."

She exhaled a laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. "Okay, well. I moved here a couple years ago. Work in a CD store. Play guitar in my free time. Live a thrilling life of talking to no one and watching horror movies until 2 AM."

"Wow," you deadpanned. "Truly a menace."

She smirked. "I contain multitudes."

You nudged her leg with your foot. "I think you’re cool."

Ellie went so quiet after that you worry you went too far. But then she said, soft: "I think you’re pretty cool too."

Neither of you moved for a second. The pizza was getting cold, the lights were flickering softly. She was staring at you like you hung the stars, and your heart’s doing something very inconvenient in your chest.

IT WASN’T HARD TO figure out where Ellie worked. Not like you stalked her or anything—she just... mentioned it. Casually. In passing. And it stuck with you, that offhand comment about shifts and sorting and 'old people complaining about the price of CDS like it’s 1985.'

And okay, maybe you were a little too curious. Maybe you had a free day and a really good memory. And maybe there weren’t that many record stores in town to begin with.

You checked out the first shop—a dusty little place with an impressive jazz section and a guy behind the counter who looked old enough to have invented jazz. No Ellie. The second one was sleek and modern, curated for aesthetic Instagram posts, with alphabetized playlists and diffused lighting. Also, no Ellie. But the third one… That’s where you saw her.

She was behind the counter, alone, hunched over a small stack of CDs, scribbling something onto tiny sticky notes with a black pen clutched between ink-smudged fingers. Her hair was tied up in a low bun, loose strands falling into her face as she worked. She was mouthing the words to whatever track was playing overhead—some soft, rock ballad you didn’t recognize—but it made the whole place feel hushed, intimate, like stepping into someone’s favorite memory.

You stood near the entrance for a second too long.

Ellie glanced up and froze. Her pen paused mid-word. You caught the brief flicker of surprise on her face—like she wasn’t expecting to ever see you here, like this part of her life was separate and you’d somehow wandered past the invisible boundary.

But then her expression shifted, softening into something unreadable. The corners of her mouth twitched like she was trying to decide whether to smile or run.

She settled on a weird middle ground. "Oh," she said nonchalantly. "Hey."

You raised a hand, suddenly hyper-aware of your own body, your posture, the fact that you hadn’t really thought through what you’d say when this moment came. "Hey. Fancy seeing you here."

Ellie blinked. "In my place of work?"

You laughed, and she smiled for real this time. "Right. I was just... exploring the neighborhood," you lied. "Didn’t realize this store was so close."

She nodded slowly, clearly not buying it—the store was a twenty-minute drive from the apartment complex— but was too polite to call you out. "Yeah? You into CDs?"

"Definitely," you said, scanning the shelves like you weren’t about to have a heart attack. "I mean, I personally prefer vinyls, but yeah, CDs are like, super retro. Very... round."

Ellie snorted. "That’s one way to describe them."

You wandered closer, pretending to browse, your fingers grazing the spines of old cases. She watched you, but not in a judgmental way. More like she was trying to figure you out.

"Do you work every day?" you asked after a moment.

"Nah," she said, leaning on the counter. "Just a few days a week. Tuesdays, Thursdays, sometimes Saturdays."

You nodded like that wasn’t valuable information now burned into your brain. You grabbed a Fleetwod Mac CD, and took out your wallet to pay. "Cool," you said. "Guess I’ll have to stop by again."

"No, uh, don’t worry. It’s on the house." Ellie scratched the back of her neck, eyes darting to her Casio watch. "You, uh... wanna hang out after I’m done? My shift ends at five."

"You sure?"

"You don’t have to. I just thought—I dunno, maybe we could go get coffee. Or you could show me your superior taste in 'very round CDs.'"

You grinned. "I’d like that."

Ellie looked down, then back up through her lashes. "Cool. Yeah. Cool."

You ended up spending the next half hour pretending to look through racks while sneaking glances at her—and she, in return, kept stealing glances at you in the reflection of the display glass. And when five o’clock finally rolled around, she practically flew out from behind the counter, tugging on her jacket and fumbling with the sleeves like she was nervous. Which, honestly, made two of you.

THE COFFEE SHOP Ellie picked was small, local, and mostly empty by the time you both got there—quiet enough that your conversation didn’t have to compete with the noise, but not so silent that the pauses felt heavy. The barista gave Ellie a little nod when she walked in, like she was a regular, and Ellie just muttered a soft 'hey' back before holding the door open for you.

You sat by the window, your cups warming your hands, and the conversation came easier than you thought it would. Ellie was shy, yeah, but not in that way where she tried to disappear. It was more like she was deliberate. Careful. She listened to you like you were saying things worth remembering.

She told you about the weird guy who always came in looking for jazz CDs they didn’t have, and how she’d once spent two hours reorganizing the punk section just because she couldn’t stand the way someone else had done it. You talked about the move, the disaster of trying to assemble your own bookshelf, and the apartment above yours that sounded like a zoo with a drum set.

Ellie laughed at that one, and you caught yourself staring just a little too long at the way her eyes crinkled when she did it. You suddenly felt the urge to count every single freckle that was marked in her face.

Somewhere between a refill and a shared chocolate chip cookie, she glanced at the clock and said, "Wanna come over?"

"To your place?"

She scratched at the back of her neck. "I mean, only if you want. No pressure. I just—I have this CD collection I was talking about and, uh... coffee shops close eventually."

You tried not to smile too obviously. "Sure. I’d love to."

Ellie’s apartment was quite similar to yours—after all, both were from the same block, but something about it was undeniably her. The couch was beat-up but clean, the walls were decorated with band posters and a couple of hand-drawn sketches you didn’t ask about yet, and her windowsill had a few neglected plants that were somehow still alive.

"I wasn’t really expecting company," she said, kicking off her shoes near the door. "Sorry if it’s a little... messy."

You looked around. "Ellie, this is better than mine by far."

She shrugged, clearly flustered, and motioned for you to take a seat while she made herself busy putting on a playlist— just background enough to not distract from her own nervous energy. With your drink still in hand, you wandered to the shelf near the TV, running your finger along the neatly organized spines of her CD collection. "So this is the shrine."

"Hey, don’t mock the shrine," she said, coming to stand beside you. "It’s got history."

You glanced at the rows and rows of titles—some familiar, others completely new to you. "What’s your holy trinity, then?"

She paused, seriously considering it. "Green Day, Radiohead, and—don’t laugh—The Smashing Pumpkins."

You blinked. "Why would I laugh?"

"I dunno. People always think I’m gonna say something cooler. Nirvana or something."

You smiled. "I think that is cool."

Ellie ducked her head and muttered, "Yeah, well... you look cool, so I’m trusting your judgment."

You turned toward her, and right as you opened your mouth to say something, you felt it—a warm splash of beverage sloshing right onto your top. You looked down at the spreading stain and groaned. "Oh my god. I can’t take me anywhere."

Ellie reacted fast, already rummaging through a basket of laundry near the couch. "Wait—here. I, uh, I’ve got something you can wear."

She tossed you a hoodie, worn and soft and a little big. The same one she wore the first time she saw you. You pulled it on without thinking—slightly mortified, and very aware of how it smelled exactly like her. It was stupid. It was just detergent and something like cedar and maybe... her shampoo? But it hit you like a memory you hadn’t made yet, and when you looked back at Ellie, she was definitely flustered.

"You okay?" she asked, voice a little tight.

You nodded, tugging at the sleeves. "This is so comfy. You might never get it back."

Ellie laughed nervously. "That’s, uh... fine. You look good in it."

The sentence hung between you for a beat too long. You turned back to the CDs. "Show me your favorites."

And she did.

You sat cross-legged on her living room floor while she pulled out album after album, fingers brushing the covers like they were sacred texts. Time slipped away. The music got quieter, the light outside faded to black, and before either of you realized it, the clock on her microwave blinked 1:04 AM.

"Oh shit," Ellie said, glancing over. "You’re probably exhausted. I didn’t mean to keep you here so long."

You rubbed your eyes, yawning. "I am tired. But like, in a good way. I had fun."

Ellie stood awkwardly, hovering near the door. "Do you want me to walk you back?”

"It’s literally ten steps ahead."

"Still," she muttered, fidgeting with her fingers.

There was a weird, sudden stillness. Not uncomfortable exactly—just... charged. Like you’d both walked to the edge of something without realizing it, and now neither of you knew what to do. You stood in the doorway, Ellie’s hoodie still wrapped around you, warm from her and too soft to take off just yet.

"I should go," you said.

"Okay," Ellie agreed, voice quiet.

You could feel it—just beneath the surface—the shared, unspoken thing you both wanted. The maybe. The what if. But neither of you crossed the line.

Instead, you gave her a soft smile and a breathy 'goodnight,' and Ellie rubbed the back of her neck and murmured it back. When the door finally closed behind you, your heart thudded like you’d just run a mile.

Back in your apartment, you curled into the matress that laid on the floor, still wearing her hoodie, surrounded by the quiet hum of the night, and told yourself you were fine. That you’d get another chance. You didn’t know Ellie was sitting on the other side of the wall, wide awake, hoodie-less, and thinking the exact same thing.

THE NEXT MORNING, you woke slowly. And the first thing that you felt was Ellie’s hoodie. Still wrapped around you. Still warm in the chest, even if the sleeves were cold now. You’d never meant to fall asleep in it, but you hadn’t been able to make yourself take it off either. Not when it still smelled like her. Not when it felt like the last piece of her you got to keep before things got too real. Before either of you dared to name what last night had almost been.

You sat up, groaning at the way your spine protested after crashing half-sideways across your bare mattress. One arm still tucked under a throw pillow, hair wild with sleep. You ran your hand through it and stretched—and that’s when you heard the voices. Muffled at first. Laughter. Two people in the hallway, maybe just outside your door. You froze.

One of them was Ellie. You’d recognize her voice anywhere by now. That low rasp that turned warm when she laughed. And she was laughing—louder than you’d heard her in days. And the other voice? Feminine. Confident. Light and teasing.

You moved quietly, barefoot on the wooden floor, hoodie still draped over your frame like a second skin. You opened your apartment’s door just enough to let sound bleed in, and curiosity got the better of you. Just a peek, you told yourself.

You leaned into the silence of your own apartment, looking at the hall. And there she was. Ellie. Hair still damp from a shower, in a flannel over a gray tee and those dirty Converse she always stomped around in. She looked so relaxed, so casual—leaning against the stair railing, grinning in a way she never quite had with you. Her hand came up to push her hair out of her face, and she was looking at the girl beside her. Dark hair pulled into a high ponytail. Pretty. Effortless. Golden skin and a wicked smile and that kind of magnetic energy you’d always admired from a distance. She looked like someone who knew how to charm your mom and talk about records without ever trying too hard. The kind of girl who just fit.

She playfully shoved Ellie’s shoulder and said something that made them both burst into another fit of laughter. And your heart sank. Of course. Of course Ellie wasn’t single. What were you thinking? That someone like her—funny, sweet, handy, effortlessly cool—would just be floating around, unattached? That she'd invite you over, lend you her hoodie, stay up talking music with you ‘til one in the morning because she wanted something more? No. You’d misread it. All of it. You closed the door quietly.

Your face felt hot. Your eyes threatened to let out a couple of tears. You slipped the hoodie off and folded it, hands trembling just slightly, and placed it gently on the edge of the couch like it might burn you if you touched it for too long. Like it had just become hers again, not something you were allowed to keep holding.

And then you started getting ready. Quieter than usual. Slower. You told yourself you’d imagined it. That it didn’t matter. That it was fine. You’d just… back off. Respect the boundary you hadn’t realized existed.

Ellie noticed something was off that same day. No music playing. No lights on. Not even the faint sound of footsteps inside like usual. The little signs she’d come to expect over the past few days—gone. And the worst of all? You hadn’t texted her.

She bit the inside of her cheek as she walked down the street, bag slung over one shoulder, thumb hovering over your contact in her phone. She kept replaying last night over and over again in her head—the way you looked in her hoodie, how you smiled at her dumb music rants, how close your knees had been on the floor, how you hadn’t kissed her when you left. And how she hadn’t kissed you either. Too nervous. Too wrapped up in the fear of ruining something before it even started.

She walked into the shop, tossed her bag behind the counter, and barely had time to clock in before Jesse—her coworker, and unfortunately, her most observant friend—poked his head in from the back room. "Yo, Williams."

"What."

"You got the personality of a wet sock today. Did something happen?"

Ellie groaned. "I’m fine."

"What the fuck? You’re not. You sighed seven times during that one sentence. That’s a record, even for you."

She pulled the stool out and sat down behind the register, slumping dramatically. "It’s nothing."

Jesse raised a brow. "Is it about hoodie girl?"

Ellie snapped her head up. "What? How do you—"

"You literally texted me last night 'she’s wearing my hoodie and I might die.'"

"Okay first of all, fuck you. And second, I was emotionally compromised."

Jesse leaned on the counter, smirking. "So what happened?"

Ellie looked down, fiddling with the string of her hoodie. "I don’t know. We hung out, it was great—like, really great—and I thought we were gonna maybe... kiss or something? But then she left, and now she’s just—cold. Like, totally ignoring me."

"She see you with Dina?"

Ellie’s brows furrowed. “What?”

"Dee told me she went to pick up her speaker this morning. Maybe she saw you two together."

Ellie’s jaw dropped. "She thinks I’m dating Dina?"

Jesse just gave her a look. "Wouldn’t be the wildest assumption, dude. Dina is hot. And you two always look cozy as hell."

Ellie slumped back in the stool. "Shit."

"So go tell her." Jesse folded his arms. "Like, right now."

"I can’t just show up and be like 'Hey, by the way, that girl I was laughing with? Not my girlfriend!'"

"Why not?"

"Because it’s—" Ellie rubbed her face. "I don’t know, it’s embarrassing. What if she didn’t see me with Dina? What if I read everything wrong? What if she’s not into me like that?"

Jesse tilted his head. "Are you into her like that?"

Ellie didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. He smiled. "Then fix it, you idiot."

But Ellie just sat there, heart caught somewhere between hope and dread, wondering how the hell she was supposed to explain the mess when you wouldn’t even look at her anymore.

FOR THE REST of the week, you did your best to act like everything was fine.

Avoiding Ellie wasn’t hard, exactly. Not at first. You slipped out early to grab coffee before she left for work. And you told yourself—again and again—that it didn’t hurt. That you weren’t letting your mind wander back to the way she’d smiled at you in her dim little apartment, the way her voice had gone all soft and reverent when she’d talked about her guitar and her favorite bands. That you weren’t still thinking about her hoodie, folded on your couch like something sacred, something almost yours.

But even so… you missed her. And she noticed. She wasn’t stupid, either. Every time Ellie walked past your apartment, her chest tightened just a little. She couldn’t stop checking—subtle little glances at your windows, your doormat, listening for footsteps inside. But she was met with nothing, just pure silence.

It had been nine days. Nine days since your almost-date. Since you wore her hoodie and sat so close she could smell your shampoo. Since you’d yawned around midnight and she’d practically panicked, blurting something awkward about how you didn’t have to go but also yeah totally if you’re tired cool cool yeah no worries. And she hadn’t even walked you to your place. Just stood there, heart in her throat, as you smiled at her one last time without kissing her. Now you didn’t even look at her. And Ellie? Ellie didn’t know how to fix it.

That evening, a thunderstorm rolled in with no warning. It was more chilly than you expected, and by the time you realized, Ellie’s hoddie was back like a second skin. You tried to lie to yourself, thinking you were too tired to open the winter clothes box. But in reality, it was just to feel it again. You’d tried to settle into a book, when the lights suddenly flickered… and then went out. You sat in stunned silence for a beat before peeking out your window and confirmed what you feared—the whole damn block was dark. Not a gleam streetlamp in sight.

And the worst part? You didn’t have a single candle. So you were swallowed by black-pitched darkness. You were just settled back onto your couch, the book long forgotten by now, when someone knocked. A soft, tentative knock. You froze. And then came her voice.

"Hey… It’s Ellie."

Your heart did a little jump, stupid and immediate. You stood slowly, suddenly all too aware of your pajama shorts and the way your hair had half-dried in soft, tangled waves.

You opened the door. Ellie stood there holding two thick candles—one already lit, the other one tucked under her arm—and a slightly sheepish expression. She was wearing a red flannel, straight jeans, and a pair of black Converse. Her hair was tucked messily behind her ears, her freckles barely visible in the low light.

"Power’s out," she said.

"Yeah. I noticed."

She shifted her weight, and if she had noticed you wearing her hoodie, she chose not to say anything. "Thought you might need these."

You took the candles from her slowly, your fingers brushing hers in the exchange. Her hand was warm. You swallowed. "Thanks."

Ellie nodded, but didn’t move. She glanced into your apartment and then back at you, chewing the inside of her cheek. "You okay?" she asked. "You’ve been, uh, quiet lately."

You hesitated, trying to ignore the knot isnide your chest. She had noticed. Your heart beat against your ribs, stubborn and tired. "Yeah. I’m fine."

A pause. "You’ve been avoiding me."

Your breath caught as you looked away. "No, I haven’t."

Ellie tilted her head, gently, like she knew you were lying. "Okay. Cool, then."

"Do you wanna come in?" You mumbled, stepping back. Fuck. Why’d you even said that?

She bit the inside of her cheek. "Only if it’s okay."

You nodded once. "Yes. It’s okay." So she stepped in.

The candlelight made everything feel hazier, slower. Her shadow danced across your floor as she walked toward your living room and stood awkwardly near your bookshelf, hands shoved into her hoodie pocket. You followed her in, set the candles on the table, and sat.

Ellie sat too—but not too close. She glanced around, then down at her lap.

"I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable," she said finally, voice soft. "The other day. At my place."

"You didn’t," you said too quickly. She looked up. You wrung your hands in your lap. "I just… It was silly for me to misread the situation, I guess."

Ellie blinked, then blinked again. "What do you mean?"

You gave her a look. "You know. I saw you with the girl... friend."

Realization dawned on her face. "Dina?"

You didn’t answer. Great. She had a pretty name too.

Ellie let out a breath and leaned back. "She’s not my girlfriend. She’s—God—she’s like my sister. We’ve known each other since middle school. We were talking about Uncharted."

That made you look at her. "Uncharted?"

"Yeah, she was making fun of me for being obsessed with it, and playing the stupid game the whole night. It wasn’t flirting."

A small laugh broke out of you before you could stop it, quick and surprised. Ellie smiled—just a little. And then the room got quiet again. That flickering, charged quiet where neither of you really knew what to say next.

Until Ellie whispered, "You look really good in my hoodie."

You swallowed hard, but didn’t answer. Ellie’s gaze flicked to yours. Her cheeks were flushed, soft pink in the candlelight, but smiled anyway.

"I thought maybe you were gonna kiss me," she murmured.

You felt your whole face go warm. "I wanted to."

She blinked slowly. "Then why didn’t you?"

"I got scared."

Ellie’s voice was barely above a whisper. "Me too."

You looked at her then. She looked nervous, her knee bouncing like she couldn’t sit still. She was leaning in just a little—but not enough. Like she was halfway between running and staying. And then she said it, "can I try again?"

Your breath caught. You nodded once, biting your lower lip unconsciously. And this time, she leaned all the way in, her hands finding your cheeks. The kiss was soft, shy, and barely there—like both of you were scared it would vanish if you moved too fast. But then she pressed in a little closer, and your hand slid gently to her cheek, and she smiled against your mouth.

And when you pulled back, her forehead rested against yours. In the flickering candlelight, everything else faded. No hallway whispers. No misunderstandings. Just Ellie. Warm and nervous and real.

THE MORNING SUN peeked in lazily through Ellie’s half-drawn curtains. The green-eyed girl had been working her ass off last week, and still pleaded you to wake her up once you did, but you weren’t going to do it. She needed the sleep. So here you were now, bleary-eyed, standing barefoot in her kitchen and wearing Ellie’s Pink Floyd oversized shirt.

You were trying to figure out the ancient coffee machine she kept saying 'wasn’t that bad' when you heard the apartment door creak open. No knock. No announcement. Just a solid, casual entrance. You froze with one hand on your chest, wide-eyed.

"Ellie, if you’re gonna leave your damn wrench where I can trip over it, I swear to—"

You turned just in time for him to round the corner into the living room, carrying a paper bag and squinting toward the kitchen. He paused when he saw you. His eyes dropped to the oversized shirt, the unbrushed hair, your whole deer-in-headlights vibe. His brow lifted—just slightly—but it said everything. "Well," he said slowly, adjusting the grip on the bag, "you ain’t Ellie."

You cleared your throat. "Um—no. She’s still asleep. I think. Probably."

The man stared at you for another long beat, then sighed through his nose and gave a slow, skeptical nod. "Right."

And just like that, Ellie burst out of her room, hair a mess, wearing a tank top, some boxers and a mismatched pair of socks, looking completely and utterly disoriented.

"Oh—shit," she groaned, voice thick with sleep. "Joel. What—uh—what are you—what time is it?"

Joel raised the bag. "Brought you breakfast. And coffee. Thought I’d surprise you. Guess you beat me to it."

Your face was probably nuclear at that point. Ellie looked like she might combust from within. Joel’s gaze shifted between the two of you. He let out a grunt. "Well. I’ll be damned."

"I’m gonna—uh—bathroom. I’m gonna use it. Yours," you muttered, already halfway down the corridor. "Yep. Bathroom. Gone." You shut the door behind you and leaned against it, hand covering your face.

Out in the living room, there was a heavy pause.

"So," Joel began, in a voice that could only mean trouble, "you finally got your head outta your ass."

"Dude. Please." Ellie rubbed a hand over her face. "She’s not— I mean—we’re not, like… together together."

Joel arched a brow. "Does she know that? ‘Cause she’s wearin’ half your closet and looked quite comfortable in your kitchen."

Ellie’s mouth opened and closed. No response. No correction. Joel nodded to himself. "Didn’t think so."

"I didn’t say anything!" Ellie hissed, lowering her voice like you might somehow hear through the closed door.

"But you ain’t denying it either, kiddo." Joel said smugly. "Look, I’m not gonna give you the whole dad speech or... whatever. You’re grown. But if that girl’s gonna be hangin’ around, I expect you to treat her right. Like how I raised you. No ghostin’. No weird mind games. No—"

Ellie sputtered. "Jesus, Joel, can you not?"

"You like her or not?" He asked calmly.

She was quiet for a long beat. "…Yeah," she said, voice soft and barely audible.

Joel grunted, satisfied. "Then don’t be an idiot."

The bathroom door creaked open a second later. You emerged, trying your best to look composed despite the fact your heart was definitely doing somersaults.

Joel glanced between the two of you, and his face softened for just a second—like he was genuinely happy for Ellie. "Well," he said. "I should get goin’. You kids behave."

Ellie groaned, already anticipating some parting remark. "Don’t say it—"

Joel ignored her entirely, giving you a quick, amused glance. "Good luck dealin’ with this one," he said, jerking a thumb at Ellie like she wasn’t standing right there. "And bon appétit."

You grinned. "Thanks for the breakfast."

"Take care," Joel said with a wink, then stepped out the door and closed it behind him with a soft click.

A moment of silence settled over the apartment. You turned slowly to face Ellie, arms crossed, squinting with faux betrayal. "You. Nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Me?" Ellie blinked, slightly offended. "What?"

"Don’t 'what' me, Williams," you said, marching toward her dramatically. "Your dad, or whatever he is—just walks in like he owns the place and finds me in your shirt, barefoot and barely awake, making a fool of myself trying to work that prehistoric coffee machine—"

"You mean the beautifully vintage coffee machine?" she interjected, raising a hand in mock offense.

You shoved her shoulder gently. "Don’t deflect! I looked like I had just rolled out of bed after a one-night stand!"

Ellie choked. "You didn’t! You—you look cute."

Your brain short-circuited at that for half a second, but you rallied. "I was wearing your clothes, Ellie!"

"I didn’t tell you to wear my clothes!" she argued, but her voice was breathless, half-laughing. "And you do look cute!"

You shoved her again, this time with both hands, and she stumbled backward into the couch, grinning as she caught herself.

"Oh, okay, so it’s my fault," she said, recovering. "Next time, I’ll just let you walk around naked. Note taken."

"You didn’t even try to explain!" you pointed out, still feigning dramatic offense.

Ellie held her hands up in surrender, though her face and ears were red. "Okay, okay, you’re right! I panicked!"

"You liked it," you accused.

"I did not—!" Ellie protested, but she was laughing mid-sentence. "Okay—maybe. Maybe a little. It was kinda… nice. I mean, not the surprise Joel part. That part sucked."

You hovered above her where she’d half-sunk into the couch cushions, breathless from all the mock fighting, face flushed. The laughter slowed between you both.

"It was nice," you echoed, voice soft now. "Him thinking I was your girlfriend."

Ellie looked up at you, suddenly quiet, her grin faded into something gentler, something almost vulnerable. "You didn’t run away screaming, so… that’s something."

You dropped your gaze, fighting a shy smile. "I thought about it. Then I remembered I still have your hoodie, and you’d probably come after me."

Ellie sat up a little straighter, nudging your knee with hers. "Damn right I would’ve. It’s one of my favorites, you know."

"You’re unbelievable."

"But charming," she added hopefully.

You tilted your head like you were thinking it over. "Eh. You’re on thin ice."

She reached over and poked your side, making you squirm. "I brought you breakfast."

"That was mostly Joel." You finally let yourself smile fully, sitting beside her and tucking your legs underneath you, shoulder brushing hers.

"But I didn’t stop him," she said proudly. "You’re welcome."

You laughed again, leaning your head on her shoulder without thinking. It just felt natural. Warm. Safe.

Her voice was softer now, almost a whisper: "You can… stay. If you want. A little longer. You don’t have to rush back."

You didn’t lift your head. "You sure? I might steal more of your clothes."

"I’d let you," she mumbled. Then, like it was the easiest thing in the world, she added, "they look better on you anyway."

Your heart flipped. "God," you murmured, eyes closing, "you’re such a loser."

"Yours though," she said under her breath.

perm taglist !

@valeisaslut @firefly-ace @sevslover @twopeoplee @mayfldss @elliesfavtoy @usuck @avalovesmus1c @samcvrpenters @mars4hellokitty @prettyinpink69 @yashirawr @furtherrawayy @maximumdreamlandcoffee @elliesfavgirlfriend @abcline006 @marieeeluvsyou @smaugayra @eriiwaiii2 @d1psht @creativedespaitr @leaaavesss @yasmilks

[slutoru1207]

Varient!Invincible x reader

cc: I've been wanting to wrote this for weeks but intil I saw @tokoyamisstuff post their version of it I haddd to do it ! i hope you all like it ! let me know if you would like a part 2.

Imagine: Multiple versions of Mark Grayson from different dimensions find the reader, each desperate to keep her because they lost their version of her. Now, they refuse to let her go.

Something was wrong.

You’d been feeling it for weeks—shadows flickering just out of sight, the sensation of being watched even when you were alone. Your gut told you something was coming, but nothing could have prepared you for this.

Ellis Tower was in ruins. Glass and steel littered the streets, alarms wailed uselessly in the distance, and the air smelled like burning metal. The Guardians of the Globe were still reeling, struggling to figure out what the hell had just happened.

But you knew.

Because standing in front of you—blocking every possible escape route—were three Marks.

Not just one. Three.

Each of them was slightly different, but they all looked at you the same way—like you were something fragile, precious, irreplaceable. Their eyes held a deep, almost haunted longing that made your stomach twist.

The one closest to you had a fresh gash along his cheek, his suit darker than Mark’s usual colors. His golden eyes burned with something desperate as he took a step forward.

“You’re alive.” His voice cracked, like he didn’t believe his own words.

You staggered back. “No—no, this isn’t—what the hell is going on?”

Another Mark—this one’s suit looking more like battle-worn armor, bloodstained and torn—exhaled shakily. “We lost you.” His voice was hollow. “In every world, in every fight, we lost you.”

You swallowed, hands shaking. “I—I don’t understand—”

The third Mark, the one with the most familiar uniform, tilted his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “But not in this one.” His fingers twitched, as if resisting the urge to reach for you. “We finally found one where you made it.”

Your blood ran cold.

They weren’t your Mark.

Not the Mark who held your hand when you were nervous. Not the Mark who kissed your temple when he thought you were asleep. Not the Mark who fought beside you, loved you, chose you.

But they looked at you like they had. Like they had lost you a thousand times and wouldn’t let it happen again.

A shuddering breath left you. “Where’s… my Mark?”

The first one—scarred, desperate—let out a bitter chuckle. “That’s the thing, sweetheart.” His golden eyes gleamed.

“You don’t need him anymore.”

[madewithsilk]

Could you do Dark Ellie Williams waking up to the reader getting off to her thighs? does that make sense? 😢

— ᴡᴇᴛ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

pairing; dark ellie williams x f!reader

cw; thigh riding, degradation & praise, pussy slaps (r!receiving), masturbation, wet dreams, somno if u squint (e!receiving), mommy kink

Ellie had created an environment for infatuation. There wasn't a moment you didn't think of her. You needed her, relied on her. Your mind constantly ran 200 miles per hour simply on the fuel of Ellie. It would range from her coddling you and treating you like a needy girl to her fucking your lights out and letting her spit run down your face.

Even when you slept, your mind couldn't help but be nasty. She appeared in your dreams, placing her wet cunt right against yours, pushing your legs toward the air in a mating press. Ellie grinded it against yours, and the dream transferred to real life, clenching and swaying your hips against nothing.

The dream lasted for a while, yet you woke up right before you were able to cum. Your eyes darted open, hoping to see Ellie edging you, yet you were confronted with her soundly sleeping form, chest rising and falling. You whimpered, squirming from her firm grip close to her chest.

Your legs spread, trying to be quiet and you shuffled above the sheets. Your fingertips traced the damp spot on your panties, rubbing circles on your clit. Your back arched against the mattress as your pace increased, breathlessly moaning.

Yet it wasn't enough, your body was basically conditioned to not be able to cum without Ellie's body. It was so much but not sufficient to push you over that edge. You shut your hand between your thighs, head thrown back and eyes squeezed closed. You could see Ellie through your peripheral, she was completely unconscious, and you wondered if she also dreamed of you.

You got closer to her and let your orgasm go, settling your clothed pussy against her bare thigh and trying so hard not to disturb her from her sleep. You shuddered, gripping her shoulder gently and staring at her features with face-framing strands of hair. You began to think of the dream, her pussy wet and warm against yours, and the pace against her thigh increased.

You couldn't help the breathy moans that slipped out of your lips, feeling filthy, and shameful as you masturbated with Ellie's unconscious body. You know she doesn't mind, she's said she doesn't care. But still, the guilt overwhelms you in these moments of heat and lust.

You kept grinding, holding onto her shoulders lightly and pushing down to feel every bit of friction against your slick pussy, the knot in your tummy rebuilding. Ellie stirred awake when your moans grew louder, lips forming into an O shape. Her eyebrow cocked sleepy eyes with a groggy voice. "Babe?" She whispered with a raspy tone, one eye half open.

You whimpered, not wanting to stop and shaking your head. Ellie's hands navigated to your hips, mindlessly guiding you. "Dirty doll," She whispered into your ear, words deep from the recent sleep. "Such a needy baby, even when I'm sleeping, so fucking impatient." She kept with the degrading and borderline humiliating words, pointing out every little defect of your behavior. "This pussy always needs me, should punish her for bothering your sleep, huh?"

You were babbling incoherent words, hips stuttering, "Mommy, fuck—, touch me, pl–please," Ellie chuckles sleepily, reaching down to rub your clit as you keep rutting your hips against her thigh senselessly. "Yeah, babe? Is getting off on mommy's sleepy body not enough?" Her ability to tease and get straight to work even after directly waking up is astounding, the attraction going straight to your throbbing pussy.

You stop staggering your hips and instead, press harshly against the flexed muscle of her lap. You cum, the bundle in your lower tummy exploding. "Ngh– mommy, thank you, thank-" Ellie chuckles again, disconnecting your cunt from her pussy with a damp noise. Her palm slaps your sensitive pussy, clit twitching against the brief touch. "So good f'me baby." She mumbles, tapping your cunt now instead of direct slaps.

[sweetlovepascal]

snowflakes and sweet kisses

pairings joel miller x sunshine!reader

summary you and joel’s snowball fight becomes a sweet reminder that love can warm even the coldest days, knowing there’s no place you’d rather be.

content domestic fluff, established relationship, unspecified age gap, cozy winter vibes, snowy day, playful snowball fight, gentle kisses, family feel, soft intimacy, small town setting (jackson), comfort and home, heartwarming.

masterlist

the snow had started sometime in the early morning, and by noon, jackson was blanketed in thick, glittering white.

you stepped onto the town square, wrapped up in one of joel’s flannels under your jacket, a scarf ellie had insisted on crocheting for you looped snug around your neck.

“there you are!” ellie called from the middle of the town square, already crouched behind a half-built snow fort..

her cheeks were pink with cold, eyes sparkling. “took you long enough! snow’s perfect today. feels like it’s asking to be thrown!”

she popped up and launched a snowball straight at you. it hit your leg with a soft thump.

“ellie!”

“no mercy! you’re on the battlefield now!” she declared with mock-seriousness.

you bent down and scooped a snowball of your own. “you better run,"

she shrieked and took off behind a tree, giggling the whole way.

the square turned into a war zone.

snowballs flying, kids howling with joy, a few adults joining in despite their better judgment.

and then joel appeared, trudging down the path with his hands in his jacket pockets, eyes narrowed as he surveyed the scene.

you locked eyes with ellie. she nodded.

a silent alliance.

you formed the perfect snowball.

and you threw it.

it hit joel square in the chest.

he stopped.

ellie gasped. “oh no… you just signed your fate.”

“you sure you wanna start this war, sweetheart?”

you bit back a grin. “better keep up, old man.”

that did it.

joel let out a deep chuckle and lunged forward. you squealed and took off, boots slipping a little as you ran, heart pounding not from fear but from joy.

“get her, joel!” ellie shouted gleefully. “don’t let her escape!”

you hadn’t expected joel to move so fast.

one moment he was just standing there, watching with that quiet, steady gaze, and the next he was crouched low, scooping up a handful of snow.

“you gonna throw that, or just stare at it all day?” you teased.

joel’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “oh, i’m gonna throw it.” then, before you could react, he launched the snowball right at ellie, who yelped and dove behind the snow fort.

“hey!” she shouted, laughing as she peeked out.

you scrambled for cover, laughing too, heart pounding from the sudden burst of energy and the thrill of it all.

joel grinned wide and started chasing after you, boots crunching in the snow, his breath fogging in the cold air.

“come on, darlin’, don’t let me catch you!”

you zigged and zagged, snowballs flying from every direction now. ellie’s gleeful shrieks echoing as she joined the fray.

you bent down fast, packing a new snowball tight and smooth. joel was already stalking you like a hunter, boots crunching closer.

you took careful aim and launched the snowball straight at him.

it hit his chest, and he staggered back with a loud, mock-grunt.

“is that all you got?” he challenged, scooping up snow with both hands.

you squealed as he charged, pelting you with a flurry of snowballs.

you ducked behind the half-built snow fort ellie had started, snickering as you peeked out to throw a surprise shot.

joel caught it full on the shoulder and shook his head, snow falling off like light rain. “you’re a menace.”

you laughed breathlessly, your heart soaring with joy, breath fogging in the cold air.

joel lowered his voice as he closed the distance, a soft promise in his eyes.

“you keep this up, and i might just have to kiss you to make you stop.”

you froze, caught off guard by the sudden sweetness.

joel caught you from behind, his arms wrapping gently but firmly around your waist, pulling you close.

“gotcha,” he said softly, his breath warm against your ear as you tumbled into the snow together.

you landed in a soft heap, your back against the snow, joel above you, bracing himself on his elbows. his cheeks were rosy, his breath fogging the air between you, and his eyes warm and crinkled with affection made your whole body feel like it was glowing from the inside out.

“you ready to surrender?” he murmured.

you smiled, wide and breathless. “not a chance.”

he dipped his head and kissed the tip of your nose, his lips chilled but soft. “you’re stubborn, y’know that?”

“learned from the best,” you teased.

from a few feet away, ellie called out, “ugh! just kiss already and build a snowman together or something!”

joel laughed softly, his forehead dropping to yours. “she’s got a point.”

“you’re lucky she likes me,” you said, brushing a snowflake from his cheek.

“she loves you,” joel said without hesitation, voice low and certain. “and so do i, darlin’. every part of me.”

your breath caught. you cupped his jaw with your mittened hand, soft and careful. “i love you more, joel.”

he let your hands go, helped you sit up—

—and then pelted you with one last snowball, right in the side.

you gasped, half-laughing. “joel miller!”

he just grinned like the smug menace he was. “couldn’t let you get the last shot, sweetheart.”

before you could retaliate, ellie came bounding over, flopping down into the snow beside you both.

“okay, truce! truce! let’s build something instead before you two start making out in front of the children.”

“you are the children.” joel said.

she wiggled her eyebrows. “exactly. don’t traumatize me.”

when it was finally finished crooked and charming and perfect. you stood back, shoulder pressed to joel’s, ellie beaming beside you.

you slipped your hand into joel’s, his glove rough and warm against yours.

“i like this,” ellie said softly, tugging her scarf up around her chin. “us. days like this.”

joel gave her a smile. “me too, kiddo.”

you looked between them, your heart full to the brim.

“i say we make a whole snow family tomorrow,” you said.

ellie’s face lit up. “yes. and a snow dog. and a snow clicker.”

joel groaned. “no clickers. i ain’t explainin’ that nightmare to the neighbors’ kids.”

by the time you got back inside, your noses were pink from the cold, your gloves damp and clinging to your fingers, and your bellies aching from laughter.

joel’s deep chuckles blending with yours in the quiet warmth of the house.

and then joel leaned over and kissed your cheek. soft. thoughtful.

you turned to look at him just as he leaned in again. this time catching your lips with his in a gentle kiss, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“there’s no place i’d rather be than right here with you,” joel whispered, his voice thick with feeling, eyes shining like they’d never let you go.

you smiled softly, your heart fluttering, and breathed back, “me too, joel… as long as i’m with you and ellie, i’m home.”

[itsaintmebabe]

hold on

summary: a near-disastrous patrol changes everything, forcing Joel to confront feelings he’s kept buried

pairing: jackson! joel miller x f!reader

notes: this is my first fic! let me know if you guys like it! i would love to take any requests you have too! <3

The clang of Jackson’s gates echoed through the quiet streets. Conversations died, heads turned, and a familiar dread settled in the air. A patrol coming back early was never a good sign.

Joel’s gut twisted the second he saw the horse, your horse, stagger through the entrance, its flanks lathered in sweat. Then he saw you.

Slumped in the saddle, barely upright, your head lolled forward as blood soaked through your jacket, dripping sluggishly from your side. Tommy and another patrolman flanked you, barely keeping you steady as they hauled you down.

Joel was moving before he even realized it, shoving past people, his heart hammering so hard it felt like it might split his ribs.

"What happened?" His voice was sharp, a demand more than a question.

“Raiders,” Tommy ground out, gritting his teeth as he adjusted his grip on you. “We were outnumbered, fuckin’ ambush.”

Joel barely heard the rest. His hands were already on you, trying to find the worst of the damage. Your shirt was sticky with blood, fresh and dark, and every breath you took was shallow, wet.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” he murmured, his grip tightening. “You hear me? Look at me, dammit.”

Your lashes fluttered, unfocused eyes struggling to meet his. It was enough, barely, but enough.

Maria was barking orders about getting you to the clinic, but Joel wasn’t listening. He scooped you into his arms, ignoring the sharp ache in his knees as he knelt, pressing his forehead against yours for half a second. Just long enough to breathe. Just long enough to plead.

"You hold on, y’hear?" His voice cracked. "I ain't losin’ you. Not like this."

No one dared stop him as he carried you to the infirmary.

────୨ৎ────

Hours passed.

The clinic was dimly lit, the only sound the steady beep of the old heart monitor hooked up to your wrist. They’d patched you up as best they could, stitched the gash in your side, reset the broken ribs, cleaned the wounds. But none of it mattered if you didn’t wake up.

Joel hadn’t moved from your bedside.

Tommy had tried to get him to eat. Maria had told him to rest. Even Ellie had stopped by, awkward as hell, mumbling something about how you’d be pissed if you saw him like this, jaw clenched, hands fidgeting, gaze locked on you like you might disappear if he blinked.

But he wasn’t leaving.

His fingers hovered over yours, hesitant, like if he touched you too hard, you’d shatter. Finally, he gave in, wrapping his hand around yours, rough and warm against your chilled skin.

"You scared the shit outta me," he muttered, voice raw. “Ain’t felt like this in a long time. Don’t know what I’d do if—” He swallowed hard, shaking his head. “Just… you gotta wake up, alright?”

The words felt useless, powerless, but they were all he had.

And then your fingers twitched.

Joel froze.

His grip tightened, breath catching in his throat. Then your lashes fluttered, a weak groan slipping from your lips.

"That’s it, sweetheart," he whispered, leaning in. “Come on back to me.”

Your eyes cracked open, unfocused and dazed but alive.

Relief punched through him so fast he almost felt lightheaded. His thumb brushed across your knuckles, grounding himself in the warmth of your skin.

“Hey, there you are,” he murmured, his voice thick with something unsteady. "Scared me half to death, you know that?"

Your lips parted, a raspy breath escaping, but he shook his head before you could speak.

"Just rest," he said, softer this time. "I ain't goin’ anywhere."

And for the first time that night, Joel let himself breathe.

[pivoinev]

　　　୨୧　DRUNK OFF YOU.

　　𝑟𝑒́𝓈𝑢𝑚𝑒𝑟 𖫲 ❛ when she drunkenly kisses you ❜

사랑과 애정 　──　 ellie williams ♡ 𝑓. reader ⟡ 7OO fluff best friends to lovers ﹗ drinking kissing skinship ⋮ ૮◞ ◟𑁬 [ 𝑐𝗅𝑖𝑐𝗄 ]

The music blared from the speakers. Lights flashed and wove around people, casting dancing shadows on the walls as Ellie watched you from afar. She stared at you in your short, navy blue dress──the same one she helped you pick out the night before. She scanned the flushed look on your face while you continued to drink, your smile wide and infectious as you chatted with a mutual friend.

She poured herself a drink, the air thick with the smell of alcohol, sex, and weed. The sound of laughter erupted around her while underlined by the occasional whining of someone wanting to go home. But she couldn’t give less of a fuck about them when you were there. Her heart sank with adoration and anxiety as she swallowed her drink.

Memories of you flashed through her mind, bringing back the warmth of your body as you held her tightly after that argument with Joel. The way you gently rubbed her head while she cried into your shoulder, fingers twirling in her hair. She missed it so fucking bad.

Her eyes drifted back to you, and for a brief moment, your gazes locked before Ellie embarrassingly turned away.

She told herself a million times that tonight would be different, that she would enjoy herself without doing anything stupid. You were her best friend; that should’ve been enough. But as she watched you laugh, a familiar ache settled in her chest.

From across the room, you watched Ellie seize a bottle of vodka, downing it as if it were nothing more than water. Your heart drowned in anxiety as you observed her, wondering what brought her to this point──to drown herself out with alcohol.

Thoughts plagued Ellie’s mind, intensifying with every sip. What if I ruin everything? She took a deep breath, feigning a smile as she stole a glance at you, shaking her head at her own stupidity. Just a friend, she reminded herself, lugging down another glass as if hoping it would drown out her feelings for you.

Drink after drink, Ellie felt herself slipping, the thought of you blooming in her mind like marigolds bursting after the spring rain. But with each sip, the line between friend and something more began to blur. She became loosened, like a knot finally untied.

…

The world around her began to blur and spin as the drinks flowed. Everything became a morphed, distorted hum, but your voice cut through the haze with sudden clarity. She blinked slowly, each flutter of her lashes attempting to swat away the encroaching drowsiness.

You examined her state, noting the way she mumbled to herself and the consistent faltering in her step. Concern gripped you as you walked toward her.

The room tilted, and Ellie staggered backward against the cold wall, sliding down into a crouch. She could still feel the warmth of your skin from that day; the soft fragrance you wore filled her senses in a phantom state.

“Ellie..?”

Her heart plummeted when she heard your voice, panic igniting as she looked at you. You furrowed your brows in unease, watching her with distraught eyes. Your gaze lingered on hers for a moment before she rose unsteadily to her feet.

“Ellie, what’s go──“ your voice slipped from your lips like a ghost as Ellie’s hands gently cupped your face, her heart pounding like the hooves of a race horse. A warm rush filled your cheeks, your knees becoming jelly as your eyes locked.

Any sense of rational thought evaporated as she leaned in, her lips capturing yours and fully immersing herself into you. The taste of liquor tainted the sweet kiss as you fell victim to her intoxicating flavour.

Ellie pulled back slightly and your breath quickened. A smile graced her face as her eyes flickered from your lips to your pretty eyes. You longed for the bittersweet taste of her kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck and pressing against her.

Ellie’s lips found yours again, and you melted into the kiss, surrendering to her touch as her hands lingered on your lower back. Her fingers dug into your skin, pulling you closer, a craving for more igniting between you. All the doubts in her mind fell away as your lips moved effortlessly together, the environment around you dissolving into a blissful blur. With each breath shared between kisses, Ellie teetered on the edge of consciousness, lost in the intoxicating delicacy of your lips.

© 𝗽𝗶𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘃 𝖾𝗌𝗍 2024.

[richardarmitagefanpage]

New photos of Richard as Ellis Stagger in Missing You.

📷: vish_stills / vish_stills

[riepu10]

Richard Armitage as Ellis Stagger in Netflix’s Missing You (x)

[soggyriceee]

would love to see how sleepy ellie gets so needy while you’re laying next to her, her voice so low and soft “baby… i need you, please..?” PLEASEEEEEE ADAPT INTO A SHORT FIC I NEED IT. ellie williams i need you🙏🏻

sleepy girl 18+ | EW

<slight somnophilia, needy/sub!ellie, porn no real plot, thigh riding, >

ellie had the longest day at work. her back was sore and so were her feet. and the hot shower and meal you made for her was enough to put her right to bed. but she was horny and it was enough to actually keep her awake.

you were already halfway asleep, arms wrapped around ellie’s head as she slept into your chest. her arms would wrap arouns your waist, her teeth grazing her bottom lip as she contemplated what she was considering.

all day at work she had been thinking of you. obviously she was ovulating, shamelessly going to her car to rub her puffy clit to your photos from the beach trip last weekend. the way your eyes looked into the camera so innocently with the softest smile on your lips. but her eyes would fixate on the small “E” on your hip bone, never telling you directly how much she loved how you were marked with her permanently. sounded toxic, a bit. nonetheless, you were beautiful and ellie couldn’t get enough of you.

so when she finally decided to pull her boxers off her legs, hooking one leg over yours so her wet cunt rested on the skin of your thigh, she wasted no time slowly dragging herself against you. “baby..” she’d whimper, expecting you to still be half awake, “need you so bad.. please.”

you’d give a low grumble, barely understanding what she was saying. of course you felt her on your thigh, eyes fluttering open to stare up into the darkness. only a strip of moonlight lit the room, as the green alarm clock across the room read 12:30. “ellie.. s’late baby you can’t wait till the morning?”

you’d begin to shift, but she quickly shoved you back to how you were before, arms hooking around your torso as her hips kept the same pace. “f-feel so good.. cant stop.” she’d whine, pressing her head into your chest.

so you’d lay there, listening to the bed creek louder and louder as her hips got faster and faster. the most pathetic string of whines came from her, poor girl, teeth biting at the thin fabric of your night gown. you were like a stuffed toy, and ellie was a dog in heat.

once she felt her orgasm creeping up, she couldn’t help but press ypu face into the mattress, sitting up and pressing her pussy to the back of your thigh. you let her, didn’t stop her or anything. just turned your head to look up at her, watching the thin layer of sweat shimmer on her lightly blushed skin. her green eyes would meet yours, hooded and glossy. her mouth would hang open as a string of saliva dripped from the tip of her tongue. it was a filthy scene, probably why she turned you around.

“g’nna cum on my thigh.. dirty girl.” you’d smirk, watching her hips stagger. your voice did things to her, it was like a drug. and she was an absolute sucker for being degraded. she was your pathetic girl, and she was proud of it!

so shed nod quickly, wiping her mouth and your back of her spit, panting as the most broken whined escaped her lips. “c-coming mommy i’m co.. oh fuck!”

with one last sloppy push of her hips, you’d feel her ooze all over your soft skin. you’d tsk, watching her shake above you as her nails dug into the skin of your back. her head would hang low, watching herself on your thigh. she’d stay silent for a moment, her breathing labored as she came down from her high.

“clean it up.” was all you’d say, before watching her lick up her mess, of course maintaining eye contact. of course you’d get your thank you, arching as she ate your pussy from behind.

[mediumgayitalian]

Nico hates three-legged races on principle. One, because they force him to pronounce the extra syllable in legged, which makes him think of William Shakespeare -- Billy, as he insists Nico calls him. Ugh. Two, because they are stupid. And three, bonus, because they are stupid enough to merit saying that twice.

It's inefficient, is what it is.

"It's fun," Will coaxes. He winks, or tries to. He really just blinks both eyes and Nico melts but for propriety's sake, and because it is ridiculous also, he pretends he doesn't. "Plus, it's not so bad if it's me you're tied to, huh?"

Nico glares at him for a moment. He is grinning, now, wide and cheeky, ignoring the genuine Distance between his hips and Nico's and the general calamity that is sure to cause. They are not only about run a three-legged race, but they are going to lose. Which is worse.

(Practice, Chiron insists. You never know what the real world will be like.)

(Bah.)

But as he opens his mouth to snark something along the lines of I don't actually need you to qualify, I just need your leg, so don't piss me off, he comes to a realization that snaps his jaw right closed.

Tied to, Will had said.

A grin of his own spreads over Nico's face. He hides it quickly.

"On your marks, racers!" calls Chiron, stamping his hoof. All fifteen teams of the meet hobble over to the starting line, pushing and shoving. Will and Nico make their ridiculous, sauntering way.

"Actually," Nico muses, as they shift into position. "If I'm gonna have you tied up..."

"Get set!"

He moves just enough to brush his shoulder along Will's bicep, tilting his chin up to stare right in Will's round, pretty face, tilted in confusion.

Nico lets his mouth curve into something wide and wolfish.

"I'd rather it be somewhere a little more private."

"Go!"

The rest of the teams tear off. The advantage they have is staggering -- Chiron had offered, safe distance away, if Nico would prefer competing in a weight class perhaps closer to his own, and Nico had snapped his disgust so loudly campers jumped several paces away. It had, possibly, been a tad arrogant, and if Will had not sighed in exasperated fondness Nico may have swallowed back his pride and accepted the offer.

...Well, maybe.

But it is his own fault, regardless, their predicament. In no way and on no planet would they have in any way won, by any margin. They are simply no match for Ellis and Malcolm, when the freakishly reedy rivals manage to set their differences aside.

But the total dead weight on Will's end is a surprise.

The flush, he had expected. Nico relished in the anticipation of the redness high on Will's cheeks, the heat pouring off of him, the curl of his shoulders up by his ears and the high bend of his cracking voice.

What he was not expecting was for each of Will's freckles to go supernova.

In a sudden, cracking flash, like sunlight bursting through stormclouds in tiny little pinpricks, every little dot on Will's body -- of which there are many -- shine a beam of pure, hot, white line in every direction, enveloping him like a nuclear waste facility lit aflame. Between every white-bright light is bright red heat, like lithium flame, so hot the air around them kind of warps. Were it not for Nico's tough jeans and long-sleeved shirt, he may have fried off his skin. As it is, he feels sunburn.

"What did you do to him," asks Lou Ellen, aghast. She and Cecil have not only paused but have doubled back, hobbling over to gawk.

Nico grimaces. It is probably a bad sign if two of Will's closest friends have not seen him react in this way. A quick glance around confirms that all racers are gawking; spectators, too, stopping where they stand to stare at the sheer light pouring off of Will until it burns so brightly they have to look away.

"Hey," Nico whispers, poking his friend in the ribs. He regrets it immediately, sticking the smarting burn on his fingertip into his mouth. "Are you -- Will? Are you still...present?"

His soul is, at least. Mostly. His facial features however have become entirely obscured by a glowing red so bright it is white, like the sun behind closed eyelids.

Oops.

Nico spares another look at the racegrounds. Still people watch, mouths open -- gaping or whispering to one another, curious. Several appear to be scribbling notes onto paper. Kayla appears to be taking diagnostic photographs. (Or, at least, Nico gives her the benefit of the doubt.)

The race track is wide open.

"I promise I didn't actually try to turn your brain off for this," Nico says. He carefully does not promise never to do it again, in case Will is present behind the glow and holds him to it. "But I am going to use this to our advantage."

Nico pulls his sleeves over his hands and grabs both of Will's, tugging them to the finish line. Nobody stops them.

"Notice how I said 'our'. See, we're a team."

Quickly they cross the finish line. Nico stands for a moment at the end and ponders his situation, wondering if he should let Will calm down and perhaps stop while he is ahead.

But as Will's light fades, the bright red flush high on both his cheeks becomes clear and cherry-toned, and the red does ever so bring out the absolute mortified agony in his eyes mixed with slow-blinking confusion, like the last time he forgot to eat for five days and passed out directly on top of a rock, giving himself a grade 3 concussion.

"What -- happened."

And, well.

Nobody really got hurt.

"Nothing," Nico assures quickly. He pats Will's still-red cheek, smirking. "Yet."

[soulwrencher]

nur du und ich laufen ins nichts.

summary: you get injured while on patrol and ellie takes care of you <3

brown boots and glistening snow crunching underneath. your socks are getting wet from all the snow escaping the big white landscape into the little holes of your broken-down boots. were her feet cold too? you notice your hands clenching around the straps of your bag pack, the gloves weren't keeping you warm, nor did your socks.

but you forget about it as fast as the thought occurs to you, ellie's voice fills the air, your eardrums making ahold of it first before the snow completely absorbs her words.

and while it was only a 'look at that big ass tree!' you couldn't help but smile, maybe her silly comments were enough to keep your limbs warm.

"you want me to go hug that tree?" you ask, giggles lacing your voice as ellie simply shrugs and scoffs in response. it'd only been the third time you went on patrol with ellie, and while she didn't want to admit it, it didn't take long for her to warm up to you.

and then ellie looks your way, the soft strokes of your face never go unnoticed as you're facing away from her, looking into the distance. she couldn't make any sense of why today out of all days, all her attention was drawn to you. it could just be the sedating snow making you stand out, she thinks to herself. maybe this one time, it was okay for her to fool around on patrol, just this once. and how could she say no anyway, no to those soft eyes of yours?

"i guess you could do it," she says, chuckling as she watches you take off sprinting towards the big pine tree.

however, you screaming in agonizing pain as something pierces through your foot was not what you imagined under 'going to see the biggest tree ever up close', and neither did ellie. you watch her run up to you, concern and worry plastering her face. solicitous eyes are looking your way, and your way only, not that it mattered or numbed the pain in any way.

luck was never your best friend, so of course you had to unconsciously move your toes, making you wince in pain, tears threatening to fall.

ellie wasn't even running that fast but she almost tripped over coming to your help.

"are you okay?" she pants, both of her hands are grabbing the sides of your shoulders. her eyes were rummaging around, looking for answers, hoping for you to be okay. please be okay.

"i think something went through my foot," you answer with your voice low, the pain of your freezing toes and injured foot made it hard to focus. you are too ashamed to look her into the eyes, they are glued to the ground.

she just nods, eyebrows furrowed as she turns around to search through her bag pack.

"i'm sorry, i should've walked carefully through the snow, it's so high, i don't understand—" she stops messing with her bag and turns back to you, eyes searching for yours.

"hey," she says softly as she takes a step closer. you take a deep breath and look back up to her. she cups your face, hands trembling, which you only notice now. only now you notice that her voice is shaking, that her breath is staggering. you should've noticed earlier. but how, when her cold thumbs were wiping your tears ever so softly?

"it's okay, it's my fault anyway, can you walk?" she asks. she hasn't stopped holding you close, in fact your chest was brushing against hers and her fingers were starting to dig through the thick fabric. you nod, you've never been this close to her before.

"careful," the auburn-haired woman says while wrapping her arm around your waist, tightening her grip around your hip. you inhale sharply as you try to step forward, but ellie stops you. she gestures at you to stay where you are as she leaps over behind you, to the tree, digging in the snow.

ellie's mind is working at full speed, she can't remember a single time where she had been this worked up over something, well, over someone.

she just couldn't help beating herself up over the fact that you got hurt while being with her, and fuck she's been nervous too, is it okay for her to get this close to you? ellie couldn't even ignore the burning feeling underneath her fingertips as she was holding your face, but maybe it was just the cold burning her fingers, not her want for more, more of you.

it didn't take her long to finish and come back, but the pain was taking a toll on you, you were tired of standing too, tears were streaming down your face as you try to sob in silence.

her eyes once again wander all over you, from head to toe, from fresh to dried up teardrop. she gently places your arms around her neck, resting her hands on your waist.

"now hold on tight," she says, her hands squeezing you a little.

"i'm taller than you and heavy," you reply. ellie completely disregards that, resulting her to almost tumble over and hit her head against the tree as she lets you down on the spot she just dug. for a second you were able to forget the excruciating pain and laugh, laugh about how cute she was for turning bright red and avoiding eye contact. and it made her laugh too.

but now you were sitting on the cold ground, ellie mustering your foot, well your boot, it was bad, real bad.

"i'll just disinfect it and wrap it until we go back," you say, finally being able to sit made this all a little more bearable. she scoots closer to you, close enough to feel her breath on your skin.

"let me take care of it," she pleads, strands falling out of her half bun. you look into her eyes, you couldn't read what she was thinking but the look on her face was enough to make your heart beat faster.

"okay," you reply, brushing the lose strands of her auburn hair behind her ear. ellie reaches for the side of your face, stroking you slightly, not letting you out of sight once. she just wants to make it all better.

a/n: i'm done writing this for today lol but if this does well enough i'm actually up for making this into a mini series!!! also i've been watching arcane the past few days so... i got inspired ;)