Psa!!! A Gentle Reminder Not To Listen To Strangers By Ethel Cain When In The Middle Of Your Bi-monthly

pls write bbf ellie

i just wrote a little something for bbf!ellie 🫶🏼 you can read it here!

but dw that dynamic is so tasty i will be writing much, much more

SUCKER — PROLOGUE, something new

gorgeous fanart by @nramv , edited by me

↫ masterlist next ↬

info: rain appears to be the centre of your new life, as well as your newest enemy. you try to adapt to the cold town of jackson while simultaneously remeeting what seems to be every person in town, bracing yourself for the first day of school. MOODBOARD + PLAYLIST

cw: reader smokes and she's 17 (soon to be 18) so underage, set in the 2000's!

wc: 3.5k

note: oh goody im excited, as you can tell its based on twilight. thank you to my friend E for proofreading!

as soon as you get into your dad’s car, the first thing it starts to do is rain. pour rain. the sunny weather suddenly vanishing before your eyes, and all hope you had of this place being slightly like your old home disappears in an instant. jackson. a small town in the state of wyoming, always cloudy, always raining. population: 3,120 people. you haven’t visited since you were 13. no matter how much the gloominess would obviously appeal to you, your mother kept you close, leaving your father to his own as the police chief. trees fly beside you as you stare outside, arm propped up on the side of his work car, paying close attention to the droplets falling on the glass window.

you both don't speak. you had already done the pleasantries, nice to see you, you’ve grown up so much, blah blah blah. it’s clear he has more to say, but you really don’t. you’re only here to make your mom happy, without you. over the years you've made the accidental habit of raising your mother instead of your mother raising you, so in a way you’re thankful for the change of scenery.

you remember the days with your dad when you were younger, how gentle he was with you and how much he cared, and although he’s trying his hardest not to show it, you can see how he holds just as much love for you as he did then, regardless of the 12 years that have passed. the rain pats gently all around you, and you close your eyes to soak it in. something new is what you’ve been needing. what you’ve been craving. you can't fully blame your mother for wanting to soak in the feeling of her new marriage, and to have complete freedom. she’s not the only reason you moved, anyways. things weren’t working out for you back there. you had no purpose, you didn't know what you were doing or what job you wanted to go into. simply making it day by day alongside your best friend.

the car jolts to a stop, pulling you out of your train of thought and forcing you to face your new home. it’s not raining anymore, and the house is the same as you remember it. two stories, painted white with a dusty brown roof, detailing wherever it can go. your dad is already out of the car, opening the boot and hauling out your luggage. bracing yourself and rolling your sleeves as far up your palms as they can go, you open the door. cool air hitting you instantly, the slippery pavement almost making you collapse on yourself.

“you good, bear?”

bear. oh god how you’ve missed your dad. you cant believe you almost forgot that nickname.

letting out a shaky exhale, you answer “yeah, sorry just slipped a little.”

he’s beside you in an instant, your luggage taking up both of his hands.

“oh here let me help you-”

“no, no im fine. i’m not that old yet,” he jokes, turning towards you for a minute and offering a soft smile in which you return “well, welcome to your new home.” he makes the first move to go inside, and you quickly reach for your purse still sitting in the passenger seat of his car; grabbing it quickly before closing the door and following after him. trying your absolute hardest to not fall and die on the driveway.

you both walk in silence, the house smelling as it always has. woody, rainy, and fresh. the tiles look as if they have been freshly polished, and the downstairs feels much less roomy than you remember. he guides you upstairs into the same room you remember spending countless nights in as a child, not giving you much time to process the downstairs. you make a mental note to explore more later. he drops your luggage to the side while you continue analysing it. its pretty open, direct space in front of you and a small hallway-like area off to the side, your closest on the wall opposite there. the bed resting in front of you against the wall is new, he changed the bedsheets, the pink florals have been replaced with a dusty purple floral design. there are matching pillowcases as well as a swan pillow perfectly placed in front of it, a darker shade of purple belonging to the sheets peeking out from underneath the duvet.

the rest of the room has also seemingly been revamped. there are fairy lights all around the ceiling, adding some nice warmth to the room. the shelves that rest on your wall in front of your bed next to the window have been emptied, and the window seat right beside, almost like an extension of your bed, has the same purple theme going, a fluffy throw blanket messily thrown in place, alongside some simple decorative pillows, lace curtains adding some simplicity. you already know you’ll be spending most of your time there.

next is the desk, right in front of your bed, just before the room extends. a lace tablecloth matching the curtains and acting as a shield to the wood. there’s what seems to be a fairly recent laptop model and some books adorning it, a mirror hanging right above it, alongside some storage underneath it. the chair seems comfy, just a simple wooden one, matching the desk. you assume he left the room mostly empty to incorporate as much of your old life as possible, but part of you wishes you didn't have to carry anything here. that you could leave no trail of your past here, but you appreciate the thought he’s given you nonetheless, and how he’s seemingly overly aware you’re no longer a child.

the last thing you investigate is the extension, there's a full length mirror at the end, but for the most part the extra room is mostly empty. there’s a bulletin board beside the mirror, and an extra wooden dresser to the side. just for safety, even though your clothes will probably take up less than half of the closet.

“wow… you really went all out.” you compliment, although it seems to raise slight alarm in him.

“sorry if it’s too much, i just wanted to let you take control. but also not have your old childish things…” he drones on for a little, but you’re too busy admiring your room. you feel better about the move already, aware that your dad will give you the space you need, while also actively caring for you and ensuring you’re safe. pros of living with the chief of police: you’re pretty much guaranteed safety. cons: you can’t be as open to him about bad habits as you would like.

you interrupt him before he spirals more, “it’s perfect, dad. purple’s cool. thank you.” you softly smile at him, throwing your purse onto your bed while starting to visually plan what you could add. the bedside table in front of you looks like it could use some decoration, and you’re already planning on going out into town to collect some small bits and pieces you might be able to use.

you flop down on your bed, just avoiding your purse, front facing the ceiling. the weight of the day slowly being lifted off of you while the exhaustion takes over.

“well, uh, i guess i’ll leave you to it.” your dad stands in the center of the room, hands on his hips as his bulky uniform makes his shadow appear unusually large. “the anderson’s will be here soon. any minute now, knowing them.”

“the andersons?” the name sounds so familiar, yet you’re finding it difficult to put a name to the face. sitting up to look at your dad on your elbows, legs hanging off the surprisingly comfortable bed.

“er yeah. abby and owen. they’re bringing you a present. well, a gift from me,” he clicks his tongue, contemplating what to say next, scared that he’ll spoil the surprise “you know what, you’ll see.” and he leaves it at that, going to exit your room as you lay back down on your bed, trying your hardest to remember who the fuck abby and owen are. but just like clockwork, the doorbell rings, and hearty chuckles can be heard from just below your window.

you sigh, and your dad chuckles to himself. his back facing you as he makes his way out of your room, footsteps booming down the stairs. you sit there for a moment, still racking your brain for who exactly the anderson’s are. as far as you’re concerned, they haven’t been mentioned until now. deciding the better way to solve this mystery is to actually see and talk to them, you groan before begrudgingly getting out of bed. jeans rustling against the sheets as your black chucks follow after your dad down to the front door, just below your bedroom, and right in front of your window. by the time you make it down, he’s only just opening the door to greet them. the warmth leaves your body as the cold air blows in, and although you’re technically wearing layers, it does little to help.

rushing to the door and practically stumbling over your feet while doing so, you come face to face with two people who’s memories instantly rush to mind. those anderson’s.

“nice to see you finally join us,” owen jokes, making eye contact with you, abandoning whatever conversation he had been having with your dad moments before. abigail stands to his side, fuck, she looks nothing like you remember. she looks hot. you check her out, shamelessly at that. you know she can see you, and you swear her lips have curved up into a slight smirk.

you laugh at owen, mustering up the last of your energy to figure out what to say next, “you know me. it's nice to see you guys, it's been too long.” you leave the doorstep, moving outside to the pavement, once again overly aware of how you’re moving, really trying to not slip and embarrass yourself. reaching to hug owen who reciprocates instantly, he smells like citrus somehow. you let go of the hug first, giving a smile and turning your attention to abby, a stupid smirk still plastered on her face. she's wearing a tight fitting white long sleeve and cargo pants. how she is warm is something you don't think you’ll be able to solve. she opens her arms for a hug and you reach for her, being engulfed instantly. she smells like oil, and amber. an oddly comforting mix.

“nice to see you,” she whispers.

you stay lost in the moment for only a second longer before responding, “you too.”

it's not a whisper, but still barley spoken, and you force yourself to be free from her grasp. you haven’t seen her in years, and you’re not sure why you expected her to still look like how she did when you were practically babies.

“so, how have things been?”

owen and your dad are lost in their own conversation, so you take it upon yourself to continue talking to abby.

“eh, same as always. i started fixing up cars and stuff, working out as you seemingly have already noticed.”

your cheeks flush red, so she did notice. “don’t flatter yourself, abigail. it’s been awhile, i’m just surprised to see you is all.” you defend, crossing your arms over your chest.

she laughs, throwing her hands up in defense. “how about you?”

you don't even hesitate to answer, “it's just weird being back here. i have not visited since the last time i saw you when we were what? 12?”

she thinks for a moment, most likely doing the maths in her head. “13, actually. how weird is that?”

“so weird,” you laugh, and she joins in alongside you.

as it dies down, she desperately makes an attempt to keep talking to you “what school you going to?”

“jackson, unfortunately. oh god, please tell me you are as well. it would be so good to already have a friend there!” you plead

she sighs and shakes her head, putting a hand on her hip. “sorry princess, i'm down on the firefly side. and before you get angry, i drove an hour out here.”

you frown at her, eyebrows furrowing. how the hell were you gonna make it through your first day now? you decide not to dwell on it too long, you would cope with that tomorrow when the issue presented itself.

analysing your surroundings, you notice a truck sitting right behind abby. it was pretty old, but you honestly found it pretty. a navy blue, rusty truck. abby follows your eyes, smiling.

“hey uh, i think the princess has spotted something important.”

she gains the attention of both owen and your dad.

“oh my goodness of course how could i forget,” your dad scolds himself as owen snickers to himself off to the side, “uh, i know it’s not exactly much, bear, but this is my house warming gift to you. i've already paid for it from this fool, and i wanted you to have your own way to get to school and wherever else you wanna go, really. so…”

your smile widens significantly, tucking your hands into your back pockets. “thank you so much dad. i love it.”

“and credit to me for fixing it all up, thank you very much,” abby chimes in, and you giggle at her bluntness.

“i cannot thank you guys enough,” you express, looking around at the people before you.

“it’s just something to get you started, but you must be tired,” the blonde in front concludes, reading you as perfectly as she did six years ago, you smile at her with gratitude.

“oh of course! you've had a full day of travelling and you have to get up pretty early tomorrow. we’ll leave you to it, it was nice to see you. make sure to get lots of rest tonight.” owen wraps up, releasing you from social interaction.

abby tosses you the keys, you catching them effortlessly.

“of course, and i’ll come visit you guys as soon as possible. get home safe!” you add on.

your dad says his own goodbyes as the two pile into owens car, abby in the drivers seat. they wave you goodbye as they leave, and you really do plan on seeing them as soon as you can.

you hadn’t even noticed the night settling over you as you and your dad make your way back into the house.

“you want some dinner, bear? i made some pasta before.”

as terrible as you feel turning down his offer, the only thing you really feel like doing is freshening up and going to bed.

“sorry dad, i’m pretty dead. i’ll snag some to have for breakfast tho!” you promise, making your way up the stairs while he lingers down in the living room, going to turn on the tv.

having a quick shower and changing into your pajamas (that only consisted of a tank top and underwear), you called down a quick goodnight to your dad and shut your door, sighing. you had barely done anything today, yet felt more tired than you had in months.

but you had a routine, and that routine got you to where you were now. jumper thrown on while you crawled over your bed to your windowsill seat, lighter and cigarette in hand. although your room is warm thanks to a heater, you’re taking safety measures in advance and preparing yourself for the cold air that will breeze through. you open the curtains, then the blinds, and finally the window. you sit back comfortably, back laid against the wall beside the window while your legs are stretched across, you lean into the open window and flick your lighter alive, it being the only light source other than the small glow of street lights and the warm fairy lights around you. holding the cigarette to your lips, you light it gently, the flame catching instantly.

you inhale the smoke, sighing in relief at the alleviation it was already starting to grant. placing the lighter back into your bag, you remove the cigarette from your lips for a moment, exhaling the smoke and admiring the woods that lay directly opposite to you, before your truck catches your eye again. no matter how old it is, you’re just glad you have something to get you from place to place. you didn't have that back in seattle. taking another puff, you sit there and soak in the first night. grabbing your phone to reply to your moms messages that had been coming in non stop since before your plane even took off. answering all of them in a haste. yes i landed safely. yes, dad is nice. i got a car. my school is sorted, i already told you a month ago i start the day after i arrive. i'm good. how are things with him? goodnight.

you sit there for the next 20 minutes or so, playing snake on your razr phone. you occasionally dust the ash off out the window and make a mental note to buy an ashtray, something you had somehow forgotten to bring along with you, before calling it a night. the clock reading 10 pm, your outfit for your first day already resting on your desk chair. shoulder bag right beside it, you were prepared enough. cigarette stashed in the side pocket, just in case. but you had to be careful with your use, you only had a pack left and you weren’t sure where you would be able to buy more, if you would be able to at all.

falling into a deep slumber, you’re awake and preparing for school before you know it. you haven't had the opportunity to unpack yet, so you’re frantically running around your room trying to find the pair to your earring, and trying to figure out how your concealer has suddenly gone missing, and you really thought you had prepared enough the night before.

grunting in frustration you decide to just leave as is, transferring your shitty spare concealer you held in your purse to your bag as well as your small jewelry box, you would deal with it when you got there. your outfit and hair were simple, opting for a v neck long sleeve layered with a blouse and skinny jeans, and an extra jacket looped around your arm with spare fuzzy gloves in your bag.

you can't stop for breakfast, calling out to your dad a thank you! in which he just looks up from his newspaper in shock, before shaking his head and looking back down, unbothered at your antics. you make a beeline for your truck, phone and keys in hand, then you slip.

too focused on getting to the car, you forget that jackson's pavement actually ices over. causing you to land flat on your ass. you whine instinctively, sitting up and rubbing your butt, feeling as it's now wet and you have no time to change. exactly what you needed. you don't let it stop you any longer as you rancorously unlock and enter your vehicle, tossing your backpack in the passenger seat beside you. do you have any idea where you’re going? no. does it stop you from pulling out of the driveway and hoping for the best anyways? no. you’re just hoping you’ll spot another teen driving to jackson highschool soon enough and be able to follow them.

to your luck, you actually do make it to school relatively on time, thanks to that random kid that was probably fearing for their life thanks to your following. you take the spare minute you have to sit in your truck and mentally prepare yourself. you got a decent parking spot and rush to yank the concealer out of your bag, methodically applying it with the trucks rear view mirror, not bothering to return it to your bag when it's done, grabbing your jewelry box and selecting a few rings and finally finding your other earring, applying all of them on, putting the box back next to your concealer. untucking the necklace you always wore out from your undershirt. after deciding you look presentable, you do the hardest part, leaving your truck, thankfully not slipping this time.

everyone’s eyes are on you immediately, people whispering to each other. your arrival somehow already being anticipated. you keep your head down, trying your best to not focus on all the eyes following your every move, navigating through the crowd and up the stairs to the entry, before somebody enthusiastically rushes up beside you.

“hi! i’m cat, you must be the new girl. i’ve been assigned to show you around.”

“hey, it’s nice to meet you.”

you cautiously introduce yourself as enthusiastically as you can, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. you have no idea where you’re going, and cat can most likely tell from your facial expression.

“here,” she titters, “i’ll bring you to the office. my friends, well, your friends too now if you wanna sit with us, are just down the hall. we’ll meet up with them after!”

cats' confidence and welcoming comforts you beyond words, and the day doesn't feel so bleak anymore. hopefully, it’ll stay like that.

next.

asking for a friend but does anyone remember seeing that one reverse cowgirl pov video on pornhub or twitter or wherever the FUCK it was where the one girl had ellie’s tattoo (!!!!!!) and if so can you send it to me immediately

ELLIE IN EVERY SCENE 77/?

★ soccer player!ellie + cheerleader!reader

content warnings: modern!au, college soccer player!ellie, female reader, some very mild sexual references ( but still sexual references nonetheless so minors do not interact ) + that's about it!

word count: 2k

⟡ ellie had clocked you immediately – leaning against the wall, water bottle in hand, looking as effortlessly pretty as ever and already dressed in your cheerleading uniform. you were too engrossed in conversation with a teammate to pay her presence any mind as she made her way down the corridor, hair tied back in a low bun, gear bag gripped in her right hand. noticing you had been almost automatic, but as she brushed past you and neared the entrance to the teams' changing room, she hesitated for a moment. her eyes lingered a little longer than they should have, long enough to admire how you looked in your attire (as if she didn't see you in the exact same uniform every week), and to also clock the small, dark blue bow that decorated the top of the ponytail that hung down your back. she bit back a smile at the sight of it, before making her way around the corner and disappearing into the locker room.

⟡ it hadn't always been this way. you weren't even sure of the moment it had first started. one moment you were strangers – just two people who caught glimpses of each other on the field a couple of times a week – and the next you were swapping playful comments across pre-game hallways, and purposeful glances across the vast, open playing field. that's how it had been for months. just playful and innocent –nothing more. you couldn't remember when things had shifted. perhaps it had been at dina's party, when the two of you had shared a joint and you made a snarky comment about her shitty roll, just for her to shoot back that she was sure "a pom-pom princess couldn't do any better." after that, the back and forth became easy – almost like a pre-game ritual, some might say. the two of you faultlessly found each other, like muscle memory, and your chemistry was electric, always buzzing there – low, but impossible to ignore. things began changing, slowly. brazen bets turned into low whispers, lips flush against ears in crowded rooms; playful jabs turned into gentle touches that lingered, warm and careful, across each other's lower backs. there had been moments, plenty of opportunities for things to happen. where things almost happened. the odd afterparty where your hand had remained wrapped around her wrist just a second too long as she led you through the packed room, or during an alcohol-induced game of truth or dare where you had somehow found yourself pressed against her inside a closet, both of you breathless with drunken laughter while taking full advantage of the tight space. but somehow – somehow, the line had never been crossed.

⟡ she couldn't help herself. it was getting your attention in that moment, or having to wait until you saw her on the field, and ellie was feeling impatient. as she passed you a second time, her knuckles purposefully brushed your shoulder blades and her fingers caught themselves in the ends of your hair, where she gently tugged at the end of your ponytail. it was harmless – one quick pull, barely more than a light flick of her fingers, but still enough to pluck your scalp at the root and pull your head back slightly. "nice ribbon."

⟡ you whipped your head around, your hand coming up to touch the back of your hair as your eyes fell on the culprit. you blinked, a small grin tugging at the corners of your lips as you realised who was to blame, watching as ellie continued down the hallway, never once breaking her stride. how hadn't you seen her arrive? you shot her a knowing look when she took another glance at you from over her shoulder, a shit-eating grin spreading over her face. "keep it cute, cheerleader." oh, she was on top form tonight.

⟡ the warm up drills were already in full swing when you found the perfect spot on the sidelines to watch, leaning your full weight against the metal fence with folded arms. the neat grass was a vibrant green as it stretched before you, and the evening was humming with that unmistakable game-day energy. ellie was already tuned in, everything else around her tuned out – her movements were fluid, the ball dancing between her cleats, almost feeling like an extension of her foot. you watched as she moved in and out of the cones, dribbling the ball with a kind of confident control that was unlike anything else– so magnetic. it was no wonder ellie was always named mvp; nobody else did it like her– nobody even came close. as she shifted position, ready to pass the ball to a teammate, she glanced in your direction from beneath her lashes. her brow furrowed a bit, a hint of a smirk wavering on her lips, before she looked away. you knew she had seen you, and she knew you were watching.

⟡ the floodlights cast ellie in a wash of brilliant white as she moved fast across the field, almost too fast to keep up with – her footwork effortless and fluidity unstoppable. she was all anybody could look at– not only because she played center forward, but because her energy was magnetic. she hadn't even broken a sweat, despite now pushing well over the seventy-minute mark, and her gaze remained focused and steadfast – except for the couple of instances when she would reach a hand up to push the loose strands of hair from her eyes. her command of the game was impossible to ignore. and the power she held over her opponents was undeniable. she was in her element.

⟡ your squad was maintaining perfection; pom-poms shaking in the air, catchy chants cutting through the noise and hitting the crowd from every angle, keeping their spirits suspended at a new high. the volume of their whoops and claps was almost deafening, but even amidst all of that, one thing was clear; ellie was unstoppable. every aspect of her emanated determination; the way her eyes narrowed, muscles and tendons rippling beneath her skin as her body weaved through her opponents', while her feet scooped and dragged the ball like it was tethered to her. then, with one calculated strike, she sent it hurtling past the goalie, straight into the back of the net with shocking accuracy. the crowd, yourself included, went wild– they always did for their star athlete.

⟡ she always knew where to look. ellie had managed to perfect the skill of seeking you out in the hub of onlookers over months and months, getting it down to a fine art as if you were anchored to her gaze. she had already stolen an abundance of short glances in your direction that night, watching you do what you did best– she loved watching you cheer; your squad was beat-for-beat perfect, and everything you did was infectious. but the way you looked at each other tonight, in particular, felt different from any other time. after scoring the final goal in the last two minutes and catapulting your school into the playoffs, her eyes were quick to find yours amidst the deafening roar of the crowd and the crush of her teammates.

⟡ the flash of her dark blue number 7 jersey kept the two of you linked together between the mass of bodies that piled onto her in celebratory jumps and shouts, their hands clapping against her back and shoulders. her gaze never left you, and a wide smile spread over her face, like a kid in a candy store. she loved knowing you had been there to watch, to see her at her best, to be a part of her triumph. but ellie knew to give credit where credit was due – she could run the field, for sure, but there was no denying she played better when you were there to cheer her on.

⟡ "look who's still here." her voice was laced with that same sarcastic edge that you loved to hate, and you glanced over your shoulder to watch her lean against the doorframe of the locker room. "waiting for me?" without missing a beat, you shot back, "i could ask you the same thing, seeing as you're the one seeking me out." you swung your legs around and pivoted your body on the bench to face her completely, eyebrows raising. "also, perv, there could have still been girls changing in here. don't you knock?"

⟡ "oh, i'm only interested in seeing you naked." ellie's grin was effortless, and it only grew wider as she watched your mouth fall open slightly, whilst you desperately tried to bite back a grin of your own; you weren't very successful. "you wish, williams," you rose from your seat, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder before making your way towards the door. "maybe when you score four goals, yeah?" you teased, followed by a small chuckle. you watched as the girl's eyes widened momentarily and she let out a low whistle, sparking a slightly competitive fire.

⟡ she loved a challenge. "ooh, careful. you know i might just do it." ellie stepped out of the doorway and into the corridor to let you exit the locker room, leaning against the wall opposite. "think you could?" "if i'd had another two minutes out there tonight, you'd be down to your panties by now." her quick responses were almost addictive, each one sparking a certain sort of prickling heat beneath your skin – a reckless desire to push the possibilities further and further. "bold of you to assume you would have lasted two more minutes. could tell you were getting tired after that second goal." you shot her a sideways glance as you walked past her, tongue pushing up against the inside of your cheek before you spoke again. "...also bold of you to assume i'm wearing panties." ellie lifted her gaze to the ceiling for a moment, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she processed that devastating visual. "you're dangerous, you know that?" she pushed off the wall and fell into step beside you, her shoulder brushing yours. you chuckled lightly to yourself. "in all seriousness, though, you were great tonight."

⟡ ellie relished in praise from anyone, but from you, it felt different – it made her feel euphoric. untouchable. in one fluid motion and without even thinking about it she switched her bag to her opposite hand and draped her arm around your shoulders, as if she had done so a hundred times before. "yeah?" "yeah," you nodded, reaching up and looping your fingers loosely through hers as you made your way outside, into the cool summer air. "you're always great."

⟡ "mm. maybe it was that little ribbon that did it. a good luck charm," ellie doused her earlier comment in buttery praise, which caused you to roll your eyes playfully and earned a low chuckle from the girl. "gonna have to wear it for me every game, now." you furrowed your brow. "pretty sure you were still scoring goals even on the nights i didn't have a bow in my hair, don't know if i'd call it a good luck charm." you teased, cheeks flushing very slightly. ellie paused for a second, like she was actually considering it, before looking over at you with a small smile. "ah, well. maybe it's just you, then."

⟡ her response was faultless – just enough to make your chest ache in the most delicious way, a certain sort of yearning drenching you from head to toe – and you could do nothing but grin right back at her. "okay, fine. but please don't pull my hair again..." you paused, toying with the idea of whether or not to continue. "...well, not until i ask." ellie's jaw flexed, and she dragged her head back and forth in a slow shake. "just two more minutes, i swear to god. that's all i needed."

author's note: this was fun! very very fun. i love giving college / soccer player!ellie her deserved air time *bites my knuckle* like bro she is so hot it hurts? i need her? anyway let me know how you feel about this!!! and if you want a part twoooo maybeeee? ok byeee love u see u soon 𖹭

ew why do i miss my old tumblr friends

got work early tmrw but i kind of just want to stay up and write until my eyes burn

i love awkward woman. i love nerdy woman. i love geeky woman. i love ellie williams.

her eyes are so fuckin pretty

pov: college!AU where u fail your exam but ellie’s a fucking dickhead

random ass A/N: i need more writer moots.