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NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.

[ellie-s-list]

Ambrosia

Spencer x GN!Reader

PART 2 to FORGET ME NOT

Ah two oneshots in less than a week? Can't be me.

This could be read as separate but I'm feeling like doing a whole flower language series but no promises.

WARNINGS: anxiety, rumination, mentions of fears of being loved.

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“I love you.” 

Those three words had never caused so much fear before. Of course, this fear was normal to you, the type of fear that constricted your heart in its merciless grip, letting the anxiety of not being able to breath to clog your neck, closing your brachial tubes and letting the air slowly fall off your lips one last time. 

Spencer’s said these words to you before, mostly in passing, easy for you to act like you never heard them. Even if you did. Even if your heartstrings went taught each time, he let those words fall from his mouth. 

But in this way? With the same look of devotion clouding his honey licked irises, the flush of cold still tinging his cheeks from the snowball fight the two of you had on the way to his apartment building. All you had done was wrap a warm towel around his head, his face close to yours. 

It’s not like your faces haven’t been close before, even if physical touch was something you avoided, having only kissed a few times before. 

But that’s okay, right? Your relationship was only six months along, and he didn’t seem to mind going slow. 

In the instant he said those words, your faces not even inches apart, you bolted. Straight out the door, down the steps two at a time, and in your car. It had been five minutes, he hadn’t called. This isn’t the first time you left the situation, but it’s not any less annoying to you. 

Why couldn’t you be normal? Hell, some couples would have gone further than basic hand holding and chaste kisses that only one party initiated. You tried to initiate, but all you could do was ask if he wanted to kiss you instead. He always said yes, but it was annoying. 

Leaning your head onto your wheel you hold back burning tears, sniffing and grabbing your phone. It wouldn’t work if they were closed, but it was only four in the afternoon. A flower shop would have to be open. 

Quickly, you send a text to Spencer telling him that you needed a few minutes alone and if it would be okay if you went and grabbed take out for dinner. He immediately replied with a yes and with that, you pulled out of the parking lot. 

Forget me nots were the first flowers to have been given to you. It was a small gesture that Spencer did when he had time to take you out on a proper first date. You didn’t care if it was a proper date or not, you preferred staying home anyway, but he found it special and who were you to deny his soft brown eyes? God, you’re still kicking yourself over running out like that. 

Thankfully, the shop wasn’t closed, and you walked into an empty greenhouse. The clerk was reading at the register, and the older man gave you a soft smile, allowing you to walk around. All of them looked wrong. You weren’t an expert in flower language, but you had planned one out while you were on your way here. And you were on a time limit, the takeout being ready soon. 

Then it caught your eye. Pale pink strands of petals, hanging like willow leaves off spindly branches. 

Ambrosia.

Not just a godly treat in the Percy Jackson series, or a way to bring sims back to life in the Sims games. No, a flower that embodies the feelings of love, devotion, and shows reciprocated love. Because you did love him back. Even if the words got lost in your throat, you did love him back. You could describe it with every flower in this store. 

But you only chose one. 

Delicately, you ask for a small bouquet of jus the Ambrosia. Paying, you smiled and left, anxiety rumbling already in your stomach as you get back in your car. 

An hour after you had run out of his apartment you came right back, now standing outside his door, takeout in one hand and the bouquet in the other. You had been standing there for a few minutes, anxiously tapping your foot on the ground. You didn’t know what to say, how to say you were back after just leaving like that. 

God.

Cringing, you hold your breath and knock on the door lightly. 

The latch clicked almost instantly, but then slowly opened. Spencer peaked his head out and you froze. He was in plaid pajama pants and a long gray sleeve shirt. 

“Ambrosia,” he said softly, opening the door all the way. He reached out, grasping them gently from your hands, your shaking hands. Spencer’s lips slowly spread into a smile, opening the door the rest of the way and letting you walk in. 

But you didn’t. You couldn’t. 

“Am I forgiven?” Your voice sounded so meek to your ears; your eyes not able to look up into his. 

“Why would I be mad?” Spencer replied. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed say yes, not ask why he would be mad. 

“I left—” You stutter as he slowly pulls you into a hug. 

“You forget that I’m a profiler,” He whispers into your hair. “I understand more than you think, thank you for reciprocating.”    

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Word Count: 887

Definitely shorter, but it is a blurb I think. Idk IDC.

[ellie-s-list]

Ambrosia

Spencer x GN!Reader

PART 2 to FORGET ME NOT

Ah two oneshots in less than a week? Can't be me.

This could be read as separate but I'm feeling like doing a whole flower language series but no promises.

WARNINGS: anxiety, rumination, mentions of fears of being loved.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I love you.” 

Those three words had never caused so much fear before. Of course, this fear was normal to you, the type of fear that constricted your heart in its merciless grip, letting the anxiety of not being able to breath to clog your neck, closing your brachial tubes and letting the air slowly fall off your lips one last time. 

Spencer’s said these words to you before, mostly in passing, easy for you to act like you never heard them. Even if you did. Even if your heartstrings went taught each time, he let those words fall from his mouth. 

But in this way? With the same look of devotion clouding his honey licked irises, the flush of cold still tinging his cheeks from the snowball fight the two of you had on the way to his apartment building. All you had done was wrap a warm towel around his head, his face close to yours. 

It’s not like your faces haven’t been close before, even if physical touch was something you avoided, having only kissed a few times before. 

But that’s okay, right? Your relationship was only six months along, and he didn’t seem to mind going slow. 

In the instant he said those words, your faces not even inches apart, you bolted. Straight out the door, down the steps two at a time, and in your car. It had been five minutes, he hadn’t called. This isn’t the first time you left the situation, but it’s not any less annoying to you. 

Why couldn’t you be normal? Hell, some couples would have gone further than basic hand holding and chaste kisses that only one party initiated. You tried to initiate, but all you could do was ask if he wanted to kiss you instead. He always said yes, but it was annoying. 

Leaning your head onto your wheel you hold back burning tears, sniffing and grabbing your phone. It wouldn’t work if they were closed, but it was only four in the afternoon. A flower shop would have to be open. 

Quickly, you send a text to Spencer telling him that you needed a few minutes alone and if it would be okay if you went and grabbed take out for dinner. He immediately replied with a yes and with that, you pulled out of the parking lot. 

Forget me nots were the first flowers to have been given to you. It was a small gesture that Spencer did when he had time to take you out on a proper first date. You didn’t care if it was a proper date or not, you preferred staying home anyway, but he found it special and who were you to deny his soft brown eyes? God, you’re still kicking yourself over running out like that. 

Thankfully, the shop wasn’t closed, and you walked into an empty greenhouse. The clerk was reading at the register, and the older man gave you a soft smile, allowing you to walk around. All of them looked wrong. You weren’t an expert in flower language, but you had planned one out while you were on your way here. And you were on a time limit, the takeout being ready soon. 

Then it caught your eye. Pale pink strands of petals, hanging like willow leaves off spindly branches. 

Ambrosia.

Not just a godly treat in the Percy Jackson series, or a way to bring sims back to life in the Sims games. No, a flower that embodies the feelings of love, devotion, and shows reciprocated love. Because you did love him back. Even if the words got lost in your throat, you did love him back. You could describe it with every flower in this store. 

But you only chose one. 

Delicately, you ask for a small bouquet of jus the Ambrosia. Paying, you smiled and left, anxiety rumbling already in your stomach as you get back in your car. 

An hour after you had run out of his apartment you came right back, now standing outside his door, takeout in one hand and the bouquet in the other. You had been standing there for a few minutes, anxiously tapping your foot on the ground. You didn’t know what to say, how to say you were back after just leaving like that. 

God.

Cringing, you hold your breath and knock on the door lightly. 

The latch clicked almost instantly, but then slowly opened. Spencer peaked his head out and you froze. He was in plaid pajama pants and a long gray sleeve shirt. 

“Ambrosia,” he said softly, opening the door all the way. He reached out, grasping them gently from your hands, your shaking hands. Spencer’s lips slowly spread into a smile, opening the door the rest of the way and letting you walk in. 

But you didn’t. You couldn’t. 

“Am I forgiven?” Your voice sounded so meek to your ears; your eyes not able to look up into his. 

“Why would I be mad?” Spencer replied. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed say yes, not ask why he would be mad. 

“I left—” You stutter as he slowly pulls you into a hug. 

“You forget that I’m a profiler,” He whispers into your hair. “I understand more than you think, thank you for reciprocating.”    

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Word Count: 887

Definitely shorter, but it is a blurb I think. Idk IDC.

[ellie-s-list]

SPENCER REID HC'S

- Not big on PDA at all 😪 but at home he's ALL over you, holding your legs on his lap, head on your lap, leaning his head on your shoulder, holding your hand <333

- Sends you detailed letters when he's out in the field for more than a day but he also sends you short texts for updates during the day like "We just delivered the profile 👍" UGHHH

- HAS bought the same brand as your shampoo to bring when hes out working and misses you (every night he spends without you)

- Rambles about literally anything - yapper x listener - you are forced into listening to his long rambles that you don't usually understand but he's just so cute like WHIDJRKKK😭😭💗💗

- He will equally listen to you if you want to though <33 you're the most important thing in his life and he just loves to watch you

- When you fall asleep before him or when he wakes up before you he watches you (like mgg in 68 kill). His eyes are ALWAYS fixed on you when you're in a room with him

- Kisses.

- Kisses when you wake up, kisses when he's leaving, kissing when he gets home, kissing when you're making dinner, kissing when you're laying in bed HE JUST LOVES TO GIVE YOU LIL SMOOCHES WHENEVER HE CAN

- He loves it when you read to him, sometimes when he's at work he calls you before he goes to sleep because he can't rest without you

- Sometimes he can just stare at you in silence, just taking you in

"omghowaretheyrealandwhyaretheylettingmesitherelikethisomgtheyrejustsopretty"

HES SUCH A LOVERBOY, AND I LOVE HIM. GOODNIGHT.

[ellie-s-list]

[ellie-s-list]

I feel like I could have used Coral for "pissing everyone off", but Spinel has shown himself to be more effective there imo 😂

[ellie-s-list]

they traumatized a man with big brown doe eyes and a slutty waist and they want me to be normal about it ?

[ellie-s-list]

Forget Me Not

Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Ah... I have not written anything on this blog for two years. It's weird that the last thing I posted was an Ellie Williams one shot since I started with Anime and MHA. However, I don't think the writing was actually bad.

And now I'm back with a Spencer Reid one-shot.

Authors Note: HIGHLY self-indulgent. I do not care. I'm writing what I want to read and maybe, just maybe, using these characters to try to heal inner trauma. If you say or have any criticisms I'm open but do not attack the obvious signs of mental health issues in this one shot. It's me. It's a self-insert. I'M NOT SORRY. But I am, please like it, and I hope that if anyone feels the same way I do that you one day find peace.

WARNINGS: Anxiety, rumination, mentions of self-deprecating thoughts, past trauma, and over all the reader has poor view of self and a poor outlook on life. Mentions parts of Avoidant Personality Disorder, shows that within the text.

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Powder blue in color, star in shape, and yellow centered. These flowers are known as Forget Me Nots, known for the meaning of true love and respect, representing a promise of remembrance from the giver. It’s not like you don’t think you would ever get flowers in such a way, but you also know that a random person, or anyone, most likely wouldn’t gift you these flowers. 

What about you doesn’t attract people? People who want to be with you, who can accept the way you act, react, what you like to do in your free time. It’s not easy to be open-minded in a close-minded world. Everyone tells other how to think, how to react, or they try to tell them how to react. 

Love sucks, unconditional love is worse. And reading the poem If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda is like a knife to the gut, and with each line read, another twist is added to the blade. 

I want you to know one thing.

You know how this is:             if I look              at the crystal moon, at the red branch              of the slow autumn at my window,             if I touch              near the fire             the impalpable ash             or the wrinkled body of the log             everything carries me to you             as if everything that exists,             aromas, light, metals             were little boats             that sail             toward those isles of yours that wait for me

Those lines sound like a Hozier song. One of longing, crawling back to a person that you know you love, hoping to be loved back. It reminded you of customers that are regulars at your bookstore. A small little thing in the corner of Quantico Virginia, filled top to bottom with books, plants by the big windows, and homey, used furniture. 

It was Tuesday, and as usual, a slow day. Tuesdays were slow for a multitude of reasons, mostly because there’s less travel in town, around town, and the fact that school is out for the winter season. College students returned home, giving you time to restock on textbooks or notebooks, journals, and planners that usually sell out when a new semester rolled around. 

But another thing always happened on Tuesdays. At least, most of the time. 

You were on your phone, staring at the lines of the poem once again when the bell on the door rings. Glancing at the clock on your phone, you huff and look up from the table where the register was, having leant on it to read from your phone. Every Tuesday, usually, at five in the evening, an hour before close, Dr. Spencer Reid would visit your store. 

Thanks to him, your stock of books in other languages got bigger. Mostly by request, since you knew how to order directly from the source and the fact that it was a homey space. You even got a coffee pot for you small store just for him. 

“Dr. Reid,” You smiled at him as he walked up to the register. 

“Hello, I’m sorry I’m here when you’re about to close,” He presses his lips together, adjusting his messenger bag. He got a haircut, you note, realizing that his length in hair changed to a shorter, more boyish look. 

“As always, I have an hour left,” You reply. Spencer shrugs, tapping the table with his index fingers. 

“Well… would it be too late to ask you if you’d like some coffee?” He asked, voice soft as he stared down at the table. 

“I can brew you a pot—”

“No, I mean, after you close. We can go somewhere,” He replies quickly, cutting you off. 

Silence enveloped the small shop as you looked at him, then back down at the dark screen of your phone, where Pablo Neruda’s poem resided. 

Well, now,              if little by little you stop loving me             I shall stop loving you little by little

If suddenly             you forget me             do not look for me,             for I shall already have forgotten you

If you think it long and mad,             the wind of banners             that passes through my life,             and you decide             to leave me at the shore             of the heart where I have roots,             remember             that on that day,              at that hour,             I shall lift my arms             and my roots will set off             to seek another land

A few months pass after the coffee date. It was nice, knowing that Spencer actually liked you for you. Nothing seemed to phase him. Not your lifestyle, not the melancholic thoughts you got, not the way you obsess over your favorite forms of media. Nothing scared him away from you. 

Spencer liked everything about you.

Or so he says. 

You can’t help staring down at your phone, sitting alone on the couch in his apartment. He had only left you for a moment as you look at the same poem that you had the day he asked you out for the first time. What if he got bored of you? Forgot about you? Yeah, sure, he has an eidetic memory, but it’s easy to forget for a while. 

He may not forget the way you looked when you laughed, your smile, the glint in your eyes when you got excited, but he could stop caring about those things. That’s what scared you the most. Knowing that you were easily forgettable. Hell, you were forgotten your whole childhood, it’s not like Spencer couldn’t jump on the same train your family did. 

It would be easy for him. To forget you. What about you was memorable? Your true worth was only connected to the way people used you. 

But Spencer states that he doesn’t want to use you, a small voice in the back of your head shot back, pushing through the anxious thoughts and the onset rumination that was starting to build. He had figured you out easily, a perk of like a profiler you guess. But it made being with him annoying to you. You liked privacy, but he liked knowing how to make you comfortable. 

Was it always so hard to like someone? To fear that they will hurt you one day. Knowing that they will, that one day they will fit the pattern of everyone who’s hurt you before. 

The door to the bathroom opened and you turned your head, clicking off your phone screen and pasting a fake smile on your face. Spencer was wiping his hands on a towel, raising his eyebrows at you. However, before you could get one word out, he was walking over to the couch, a knowing look on his face. 

“I’m not going to hurt you like the others did,” Spencer said almost immediately. 

Liar, you thought. 

“I know,” You say instead and he frowned, knowing that you were lying, but not pushing you. 

You knew you would have to leave him first, before he would ever have that chance to hurt you. But it hurt already, knowing that you would have to hurt him. So, you endure the anxiety of knowing those patterns, just to try to sit with him and enjoy what little time you allowed yourself to have. 

But             if each day             each hour,             you feel that you are destined for me             with implacable sweetness,             if each day a flower             climbs up to your lips to seek me,             ah my love, ah my own,             in me all that fire is repeated,             in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,             my love feeds on your love, beloved,              and as long as you live it will be in your arms             without leaving mine.

Three more months later and you sat in his bathroom, the door locked, your arms shaking as you leaned over the sink, trying to quell the rising panic in your chest. But you couldn’t. He was sitting in his bedroom, after having told you he loved you for the first time. 

You couldn’t say it back. You tried. But all you could do was open your mouth and close it, fear flashing over your face. And before you knew it, you had stood up and left him sitting there, watching you as you ran into his bathroom, shut the door, and locked it.

It hurt, knowing that you loved him back and yet you couldn’t say it back. It was wrong with you. Something that hurt, hurt more than the constriction of anxiety around your heart, gripping it with such force that it hurt to breathe. The pain in your chest, in your gut, the twist of each anxious thought, of each piece of truth that you weaved for yourself, and the knowledge that you needed to leave. 

Hot tears fell from your eyes, large drops finally streaming down your cheeks. 

And a knock on the door. You flinched at the tentative sound, the perpetrator obviously nervous. 

“Hey,” Spencer’s voice called out softly. “I-I know this is hard for you, you don’t have to say it back. I just wanted to tell you.” He was begging. Not truly begging with words, but with his tone for you to understand him. 

How could you tell him that it was the fact that you loved him back that was causing this? You didn’t know how, but you knew that by the blurring of your vision that you were crying even harder. Barely any noise but choked gasps left you, your body trying to get air into your lungs as you held your breath from the fear of everything crashing down. 

“Can you open the door?” Spencer’s voice was quiet, meek. He was begging his time. 

Slowly, with all your strength, you turned the short distance and shakily unlocked it. That was all you could do before you sat on the floor and backed up until your lower back hit the bathtub. Your knees hit your chest, and you hugged them tightly, pressing your forehead into your knees. 

The door slowly opened but didn’t shut. He was giving you a way out if you needed it. It was obvious. Soft footsteps inched towards you and stopped just in front of your shaking body.

“You don’t have to say it back,” He whispered. 

It took a while for you to be able to regulate your breathing and emotions. Slowly, you managed to uncoil your body just enough to peek up at him. Spencer was crouched in front of you, his eyes facing down, hands clasped in front of his own knees. 

“I—” You hiccupped, flinching as he looked up at you. You forced yourself to keep talking, “I love you.” You finally whispered, his eyes widening before he schooled his expression. 

“I know that already, that’s why you didn’t have to say it back,” He leaned forward, gently rubbing the knuckles on one of the hands gripping your knees. “I’m not going to abandon you or hurt you that way you had been hurt in the past. You’re…” He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing as he licked his lips, glancing down and then back up at you with glistening eyes. “You won’t believe me, but I don’t care how many times I will have to say it to get past your traumatic past, to get past the words of those who hurt you in the past.” He squeezed the hand he managed to pry from your knees. “I love you, and I’m not just going to leave.” 

Was it the wind that blew through the trees or the singing of birds that caught your eye? Or was it the first time that you had a partner on Valentine’s Day that kept your thought’s light, now able to appreciate the little things this life had to offer you. 

Maybe, it was Spencer. Spencer and the bouquet of flowers he held out to you, on the other side of the register in your empty bookstore. 

It wasn’t a Tuesday. 

But that didn’t matter. 

Forget Me Nots adorned your living room that night in a pale yellow vase. 

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Word Count: 1,991

Posted one: 1/25/2025

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVING MY CONTENT POSTED BY OTHERS UNLESS SHARED ON TUMBLR THROUGH REPOSTING MY ORIGINAL WORK. DO NOT USE MY WORK FOR AI TRAINING.

References:

Neruda, P. (n.d.). If You Forget Me. allpoetry.com. https://allpoetry.com/if-you-forget-me

[ellie-s-list]

God to be loved like these men love MC

Rafayel and MC's hands

[ellie-s-list]

hey so! pls read this!

i need some help. i wouldn't do this unless its my last resort, but i figured i should communicate since i haven't been able to write as much. i left a very long relationship recently, and unfortunately, i no longer have the financial support i used to. i'm currently attempting to fix that (i'm trying to get more hours at work and i'm even picking up a second job!), but its proven very difficult rn. i can't afford food or gas without sacrificing the other.

anyway, i'd appreciate some help. if you've liked my work in the past and want another way to support me, i'll be linking my ko-fi. you don't have to do anything with it, but i'd seriously appreciate it if you could buy me a coffee.

ur love is also welcome! i love u all and i hope i figure this shit out soon so i can keep writing! i'll try to post stuff soon. love you all and make sure to take care of yourselves!

ko-fi:

-edie

[ellie-s-list]

Atlantis, Ellie X Reader

Here it is, my first little Ellie fix. I am working on a track star one but I have to rework some things. So I found this song and was like "Ope ellie coded" so here it is. Proofread: Nah TW: Nah

"Abby's more important?" You blink back tears, even though some already escaped. You were holding Ellie's face in your hands. "More important than Dina? JJ?" Ellie opened her eyes, solemnly looking into yours. You shook your head, seeing the grief of her decision weighing down on her. You already knew her answer, god dammit, Tommy. 

     You hiccupped, already knowing the answer to your next question. The one that shattered your heart, pain flowing through as you stared at her. The love of your life, the girl you would take a bullet for, a bite for. 

      "More important than me?" You finally asked, a broken whisper falling out of your mouth. Her answer, silence, was the final crack in the dam as she gently pulled your hands away from her face. An ocean of emotions flowed through you, causing you to freeze as you watched her grab her bag and leave. Dina was talking to you, but her words were muffled as she tried to pull you back. It was over. She would die, she would never come back. 

      That was months ago, almost a year ago. Dina gave up a couple months in, taking Jesse's parents up on the offer to come back with them to Jackson. You never left though, tending to the farm meticulously. It was enough work to keep your mind off of her. Grieving a friend, a lover, a partner in this godforsaken world of hell. 

      Maybe she wasn't dead. The small voice, once louder, spoke to you as you picked a rabbit up from a snare. The day was almost over as a mantra flowed around your brain in circles. Maybe she wasn't dead, maybe she found Abby, maybe she finally found her peace.

      Gripping the dead rabbit by it's ears, you made your way back to the farm house. What would you do in a year? If she never came back? You couldn't be alone forever, hell you had to get rid of the goats because they were too much after Dina left. Entering the fence to the farm house, you made sure to lock it behind you. The sun shone in your eyes as you turned around, sighing. 

     Approaching the farm house, you hopped up the steps, hand hovering over the door handle. Something caught your ear and you strained to hear it better. Fragmented guitar chords poured out of a window above you, and you looked up. Hope bloomed in your chest, along with fear. It could be Ellie, who would come to a house just to place the guitar? Apprehensively, you waited, hand now resting on the door handle as you waited for the chords to stop. 

     Shortly, they did. And you let out a breath, opening the door and walking in. You stopped as you looked up, a familiar face standing on the last step of the stairs. The rabbit in your hands met the floor with a thud, as your jaw dropped. 

    It was her. It was Ellie. She looked okay, looked healthy. More than less, she looked like she was able to even get some sleep. 

     But she was back, and that's all you could think about as the two of you stared at each other in silence. The small glimmer of hope you held before that Ellie was alive raged into a wildfire as she took the last step of the stairs down, taking a few slow steps towards you. 

    "I thought you left, along with Dina," Ellie said, her voice timid as you didn't react physically to her. You didn't move closer, yet you didn't move away as she stopped a few feet ahead of you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you continued taking her in. She was here, it wasn't a dream, wasn't a dream you had to calm yourself down from every morning you woke up, knowing she wasn't actually there. But now she was. She was back.

     Ellie called your name softly, taking you out of your glazed over expression. The tears finally fell as you closed the the distance between the two of you, wrapping you arms around her in a bone crushing hug. 

     "Ho-how?" Your voice cracked in a choked out sob as you hugged her, her slowly hugging you back. She laid her head into the crook of your neck, holding you as you sobbed into her brown flannel. She didn't seem worse than when she left, her frame actually a bit more muscular. She must have been eating more.

     The light was dimming when she finally pulled away, looking into your eyes with so much emotion, it could break your heart all over again. 

     "I never planned on dying," She finally answered, her voice cracking as if she hasn't used it in forever. It was the same sentence she said before she left, as she defended her choice against you and Dina. Mostly Dina, since she was more outspoken than you were in the moment. 

   You held her shoulders, her hands doing the same as you looked her over once again. You then looked to her left hand that was on your left shoulder, noticing something missing. On her left hand she was missing two fingers, her pinky and her ring finger. Slowly, you grabbed her left hand with both of your own, bringing the hand to your chest. 

     "Did you find your peace?" You asked, bringing her hand up and kissing it gently. She was watching you, tears now welling up in the corners of her own eyes. Tears finally breached her eyes, slowly streaming down her cheeks. 

     Ellie licked her lips, looking from your intertwined hands to your eyes. You waited patiently, of course you were mad at her for leaving at first. But  you could never truly feel her pain. In the end, she needed to learn and find her peace on her own, with no one helping her. 

     "She's not dead," Ellie finally spoke again, her voice quiet as if you would be disappointed. But you weren't, no you were just happy Ellie was alive. 

     The room was hardly lit now, the sun descending quicker now. Even though the light in the room was waning, casting shadows over everything, Ellie was still the shining light to you. She was the light at the end of the tunnel for you, and she always was. 

     "That's not what I asked." 

     She looks down at your hands again, brining her right hand to meet the two around her left hand. 

     "Yes," She answered, brining her pleading eyes to yours. "I know I was wrong but please," Her voice was pleading, begging you. It reminding you of how you sound the morning she left, begging her to stay with you. She said you name as if you were going to leave, let her drown as you left to go back to Jackson. "Please let me try again, try to make it up to you. I know I was wrong-" 

     You didn't let her circle again, closing the short distance between the both of you with a soft, questioning kiss. She kissed you back, as if that would be the last kiss you ever gave her. 

   But you only pulled away a couple inches, whispering, "Who said I wouldn't let you back in?" WC: 1,215 POSTED ON: 5/12/2023

[ellie-s-list]

Atlantis, Ellie X Reader

Here it is, my first little Ellie fix. I am working on a track star one but I have to rework some things. So I found this song and was like "Ope ellie coded" so here it is. Proofread: Nah TW: Nah

"Abby's more important?" You blink back tears, even though some already escaped. You were holding Ellie's face in your hands. "More important than Dina? JJ?" Ellie opened her eyes, solemnly looking into yours. You shook your head, seeing the grief of her decision weighing down on her. You already knew her answer, god dammit, Tommy. 

     You hiccupped, already knowing the answer to your next question. The one that shattered your heart, pain flowing through as you stared at her. The love of your life, the girl you would take a bullet for, a bite for. 

      "More important than me?" You finally asked, a broken whisper falling out of your mouth. Her answer, silence, was the final crack in the dam as she gently pulled your hands away from her face. An ocean of emotions flowed through you, causing you to freeze as you watched her grab her bag and leave. Dina was talking to you, but her words were muffled as she tried to pull you back. It was over. She would die, she would never come back. 

      That was months ago, almost a year ago. Dina gave up a couple months in, taking Jesse's parents up on the offer to come back with them to Jackson. You never left though, tending to the farm meticulously. It was enough work to keep your mind off of her. Grieving a friend, a lover, a partner in this godforsaken world of hell. 

      Maybe she wasn't dead. The small voice, once louder, spoke to you as you picked a rabbit up from a snare. The day was almost over as a mantra flowed around your brain in circles. Maybe she wasn't dead, maybe she found Abby, maybe she finally found her peace.

      Gripping the dead rabbit by it's ears, you made your way back to the farm house. What would you do in a year? If she never came back? You couldn't be alone forever, hell you had to get rid of the goats because they were too much after Dina left. Entering the fence to the farm house, you made sure to lock it behind you. The sun shone in your eyes as you turned around, sighing. 

     Approaching the farm house, you hopped up the steps, hand hovering over the door handle. Something caught your ear and you strained to hear it better. Fragmented guitar chords poured out of a window above you, and you looked up. Hope bloomed in your chest, along with fear. It could be Ellie, who would come to a house just to place the guitar? Apprehensively, you waited, hand now resting on the door handle as you waited for the chords to stop. 

     Shortly, they did. And you let out a breath, opening the door and walking in. You stopped as you looked up, a familiar face standing on the last step of the stairs. The rabbit in your hands met the floor with a thud, as your jaw dropped. 

    It was her. It was Ellie. She looked okay, looked healthy. More than less, she looked like she was able to even get some sleep. 

     But she was back, and that's all you could think about as the two of you stared at each other in silence. The small glimmer of hope you held before that Ellie was alive raged into a wildfire as she took the last step of the stairs down, taking a few slow steps towards you. 

    "I thought you left, along with Dina," Ellie said, her voice timid as you didn't react physically to her. You didn't move closer, yet you didn't move away as she stopped a few feet ahead of you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you continued taking her in. She was here, it wasn't a dream, wasn't a dream you had to calm yourself down from every morning you woke up, knowing she wasn't actually there. But now she was. She was back.

     Ellie called your name softly, taking you out of your glazed over expression. The tears finally fell as you closed the the distance between the two of you, wrapping you arms around her in a bone crushing hug. 

     "Ho-how?" Your voice cracked in a choked out sob as you hugged her, her slowly hugging you back. She laid her head into the crook of your neck, holding you as you sobbed into her brown flannel. She didn't seem worse than when she left, her frame actually a bit more muscular. She must have been eating more.

     The light was dimming when she finally pulled away, looking into your eyes with so much emotion, it could break your heart all over again. 

     "I never planned on dying," She finally answered, her voice cracking as if she hasn't used it in forever. It was the same sentence she said before she left, as she defended her choice against you and Dina. Mostly Dina, since she was more outspoken than you were in the moment. 

   You held her shoulders, her hands doing the same as you looked her over once again. You then looked to her left hand that was on your left shoulder, noticing something missing. On her left hand she was missing two fingers, her pinky and her ring finger. Slowly, you grabbed her left hand with both of your own, bringing the hand to your chest. 

     "Did you find your peace?" You asked, bringing her hand up and kissing it gently. She was watching you, tears now welling up in the corners of her own eyes. Tears finally breached her eyes, slowly streaming down her cheeks. 

     Ellie licked her lips, looking from your intertwined hands to your eyes. You waited patiently, of course you were mad at her for leaving at first. But  you could never truly feel her pain. In the end, she needed to learn and find her peace on her own, with no one helping her. 

     "She's not dead," Ellie finally spoke again, her voice quiet as if you would be disappointed. But you weren't, no you were just happy Ellie was alive. 

     The room was hardly lit now, the sun descending quicker now. Even though the light in the room was waning, casting shadows over everything, Ellie was still the shining light to you. She was the light at the end of the tunnel for you, and she always was. 

     "That's not what I asked." 

     She looks down at your hands again, brining her right hand to meet the two around her left hand. 

     "Yes," She answered, brining her pleading eyes to yours. "I know I was wrong but please," Her voice was pleading, begging you. It reminding you of how you sound the morning she left, begging her to stay with you. She said you name as if you were going to leave, let her drown as you left to go back to Jackson. "Please let me try again, try to make it up to you. I know I was wrong-" 

     You didn't let her circle again, closing the short distance between the both of you with a soft, questioning kiss. She kissed you back, as if that would be the last kiss you ever gave her. 

   But you only pulled away a couple inches, whispering, "Who said I wouldn't let you back in?" WC: 1,215 POSTED ON: 5/12/2023

[ellie-s-list]

she’s so submissive to abby 🤭

[ellie-s-list]

THE PERFECT PAIR;

ELLIE WILLIAMS

·˚ ༘ * “if I told you, you'd know how to go break my heart in two."

pairing: bff!ellie williams x fem!reader . college au. summary: you and your childhood best friend ellie have always done everything together, but things & feelings are starting to change. part 1 of _. slightly based on. and the song the perfect pair by beabadoobee. obviously. warnings: whole series: lotsss of pining, angst, fluff etc. references to drinking, smoking etc. smut in future. just lots of exposition & fluff in this one. wc 4.3k

There was something you missed about childhood. A bottomless pit of nostalgia rises in your throat whenever the air smelt a little fresh, whenever you hear the songs of the morning birds. Nothing was quite the same as that anymore, the sky was never as blue as it had been through your twelve-year-old eyes, and the flowers never smelt as sweet as they did outside your childhood home during the summer. You often were told you cling too tightly to it, onto the feeling that everyone loses when they grow past the age of sleepovers and elementary homework. But how couldn’t you?

You were sure no year could compete with those ones, especially sixth grade, and you claimed this every chance you got. Even now, head hung out the passenger seat window of your best friend’s car, wind pressing against your face gently as you pulled into the parking lot of your university dormitories.

“It smells like sixth grade,” you hum, eyes pressing closed as you try to picture the colors you swore only were bright in childhood. “What does that even fucking mean? B.O. and bath and body works perfume?” a voice came beside you, a chuckle following the statement. Your eyes shoot open, following the messy bun that shook as your friend laughed gently.

“Ellie,” you frown, “It smells sweet, you know? Reminds me of the air when we were kids.”

“Everything reminds you of middle school. Swear to god you're the only one who misses that place,” Ellie muttered, doing a pretty shit job of backing into a parking space near the dorm building. You would comment on it later, maybe take a picture to tease her with. For now, you focused on her words, a pout brushing your lips. “It was a good year! I miss it!”

“Rose-colored glasses,” El makes a dismissive motion with her hand, taking in your frown.

“I think you just say that 'cause it's when you met me,” your friend continues, looking very smug at the observation she constantly taunted you with.

Was it a little true? Maybe.

It had been the year you met when Ellie was still a lanky and loud-mouthed kid, unsure of how to act or dress. You had been no better, sitting alone at lunch tables, hiding behind your much too big flannel that was not at all the style of the other girls. When Ellie sat by you, a year older and wearing something just as awkward as you, a Savage Starlight shirt, looking just as out of place, well, it was love at first sight.

Love in a friendship way, of course, but love nonetheless. Those freckles that her face hadn’t quite grown into yet had become your favorite sight in middle school, green eyes that you searched for every time you bounced into the building.

A string had been tied between your two pinkies, and it never had once frayed. Not through the rest of middle school, not when Ellie tried soccer that year she left for high school and forgot to talk to you for a whole week— 13-year-old you was simply devastated— and not even when Ellie got her very first girlfriend in the tenth grade. She left soccer after the first month, her girlfriend broke up with her over text right before homecoming, and that thread led her right back to your pinky.

Of course, you were two teenage girls.. so you fought. She fought when you started skipping your Friday night movies to talk to a new friend when you were in the ninth grade. You fought when Ellie took a girl to prom in junior year and didn’t even tell you. The worst fight had been when she left for college, leaving you alone to face senior year in the small town of Jackson. Everything she did seemed to frustrate you that year, though you can now begrudgingly admit it was just because you missed her.

But all friends fight about things like that, right? In the end it was still the two of you. The nervous smiles of your middle school selves always found their way back to your faces, and always made you feel just as excited as you had been to meet. It was what led you to follow her to college. Now in your sophomore year and Ellie’s junior, not much has changed. You still had your Friday night movies— only now tucked into the small beds of your dorms.

So maybe Ellie was a little right. Perhaps she knew your mind a bit too well. Maybe you did love those years so much because they had been so filled with her. But you, of course, wouldn’t give her that satisfaction. “You're so full of yourself, Williams.”

Ellie flung the keyring around her fingers, shrugging again as she stepped out of her car. “Not full of myself, just right.”

The passenger side of her door creaked lightly when you pressed it, stuttering before you could really get it to push open . It was something that had started when you got too high once while visiting her after she started college, and you slammed it into a concrete wall. You refuse to acknowledge that's why her door sucks, but you both knew.

“Shut up,” you flip her off over the hood of the car, reaching below the seat up front to grab the bag stuffed full of clothes for the weekend drive. It was only the second week into the fall semester, but you and Ellie both found yourself craving a little time in the comfort of Jackson, hence the trip.

Ellie smiles in response, winking and grabbing her backpack. You start walking the path before she even locks the doors, hearing her trampling footsteps follow behind. “I was just joking,” the girl whined, eyes catching the side of your face as you looked straight ahead. You weren’t really mad, but you liked when Ellie apologized for her taunting. “You know, I think it's cute how… sentimental you are about that shit,” she knocks her shoulder into your own.

You feel your body tense lightly at the word cute, shrugging it off as you pull your favorite sweatshirt off your body, the early September air too thick for it. “Whatever,” you shake your head, nudging her back in a sign of acceptance.

“Gotta stop getting so worked up, peach.”

“Gotta stop calling me that,” you retort, eyes rolling at the nickname like you always did.

“I will when it stops being funny,” Ellie’s hand came to ruffle your hair, making your lips press together. You hated the peach story, and you hated when she messed up your hair even more.

“Swear one of these days I'm gonna bite you for doing that,” you puff, ID card slipping into the reader that opened the dorm door.

“I'm sure you’d bite me for a lot less,” she scoffs, thinking back to all of the times you had not so nicely bit at her for something like taking your food or roughhousing with you. She holds open the glass door for you to step inside the lobby. It's relatively quiet. A mid-Sunday afternoon meant most college students were tucked away in their rooms, probably studying or fighting a hangover. The AC of the common room welcomes you, painting your skin with goosebumps as you clutch your sweatshirt.

“Don't tempt me,” you joke, looking her up and down dramatically— like she was some meal. Ellie seems to shy away from your face, making a noise. “Shut up, biter.”

You pout at your friend, “You just don't get it.”

“I don't want to, dude.”

The response earns Ellie a slap at her arm, which she reacts too loudly at, watching as you flush and shush her. Ellie smiles and leads you to the elevator.

When you reach it, you pause momentarily, rocking on your heels.

“Maybe I should like— go get some food from the cafe or something,” you shrug, looking to avoid what was waiting in your dorm room. This was obvious to Ellie, who looked over at you with a slight sense of humor. She expected this reaction, just not as early as your tiptoes found the metal of the elevator door.

“Get in the elevator,” she shoo’s you inside, a hand against your back. “I swear she won't hurt you.”

The she that Ellie was referencing was your new roommate, Dina. She moved in late, meaning you had only seen her a few times before you left for the weekend. Most of that time had been spent sleeping, as you found yourself spending most free time in Ellie’s dorm to avoid her. It wasn’t that she didn't seem nice, because she did. You just weren’t the best with new people. It had taken you nearly a whole semester to get comfortable with your previous roommate.

“You don’t get it!” You pout, leaning against the cool surface of the wall. “You and Rose have been roommates since freshman year. I don’t know a thing about Dina. I mean fuck, maybe I should’ve stayed with Jade.”

Ellie quickly cut in at the mention of your old roommate, “Jade was a dick.”

Ellie's distaste for your former roommate was no secret, though you didn’t quite understand why she harbored such feelings. Sure, Jade was a little messy, and teased you sometimes. But she was always mostly kind to you, doing your makeup for parties.. inviting you to hang out. She even would hold your hand when you got too tipsy at events, pull you home to your dorm and shoo away everyone else, even El, to take care of you. But when Ellie told you she was bad news, to look for a new roommate— you didn’t question it much. She had been in Jade's year, after all, and probably knew better.

You spare a glance at her, watching how she looks away at the mention of Jade. It forced a swallow down your throat, suddenly feeling like you had just gripped a touchy subject by the neck and shoved it in her face. You couldn’t understand why it was so difficult to talk about, and you didn’t really want to. So instead, you sigh loudly when the elevator dings.

“What if she’s crazy? Like an axe murderer?” you begin to ramble, eyeing all the decorated doors that line the white hallway. Your door was only seven down from Ellie’s, you had counted, so you took in the numbers on each entry as you inched closer to your own. “If she was an axe murderer, wouldn’t she have already killed you?”

You groan loudly, finding comfort in picking at the seams of your bag’s strap. “You never know! Maybe it's a long game..”

Ellie’s hands find your shoulders, steering you from behind to be directly in front of the door with your and Dina’s name decorations on it. “You're fine, peach. Stop being a pussy.”

Your head flips back dramatically, landing on your best friend's shoulder. “If I die, it’s on you, ok?”

Ellie stiffens slightly, enough for you to notice, and enough for her to shove you off, but not enough to mention it. It never was. She mumbles a few ‘yea yea’s’ before waving you off and starting down the hallway to her own door, which your eyes follow right up until her hand finds the doorknob. She sends you one last look, nodding at you as another sign of encouragement. The staring session is long enough for you to swallow the forming lump in your throat and unlock your door, gently popping your head in.

The room is quiet and a bit warm— though you guess that's from the open window. At first, you think your roommate may not be here, but you find her soon enough. Dina is settled on her bed, earbuds tucked in her ears as she writes in some book, which you assume to be homework. The door clicking closed is enough to sound through the music humming in her ears, causing brown eyes to look up. Your stomach twists at the eye contact, nerves biting at your shaky hands. But Dina smiled like she had every other time you two interacted. A totally normal, non axe murderer smile.

“Hey! How was your trip?” she tucks the earbuds under her, turning the attention to you. You try your best to seem totally nonchalant, kicking your shoes off near your bed. Sitting over the plush comforter, a loud huff leaves your lips as you shrug. “Was ok, just a lot of driving.”

Ok. Small talk, you could do this. You could so do this. Mentally you pat your own back, thanking the stars above you had been blessed with a roommate who could carry a conversation. “Oh shit, that’s gotta be a long time in the car, huh? I think I’d die,” Dina shivered, “My weekend was spent cooped up, so I applaud you.”

“What’d you do?” you push, trying your very best to be social with the girl you would be living with for the following year. It only became easier to do when you imagined the look of approval from Ellie it would likely receive—a friendly sort, of course.

“Hm, just watched movies with my boyfriend. Studied, but personally I think it’s criminal how much work I already have to do,” Dina moves into a sitting position, beginning to rattle on about her classes. You listen, nodding along.

“It's two weeks into the semester, for fuck sake,” she finishes a few minutes later. It pulls an honest chuckle from you as you move your head in agreement. “Yea, I kinda shot myself in the leg choosing English major, all the essays,” you frown. “But god, my friend Ellie,” you can't help how easy it was to bring her up, “she’s got it bad. Physics major.”

Dina makes a sound through her teeth, shaking her head. “Tough,” her lips pull into a slight pout as she quickly switches back to the two of you. “Hey, at least we can suffer together..” the brunette grins, shrugging, “maybe we could have like study nights, throw on a shitty show and work on classes together. Fridays?”

The offer is sweet, making you feel fuzzy all over at the hint of a blossoming friendship. But the day suggestion had you frowning, a cold bath over your form. Fridays were for Ellie and you. “Me and Ellie do movie night on Friday..” you begin, a slight worry rising in your body that you may have ruined this building idea. Dina didn't seem to sweat it, smiling just as softly as before. “That’s fine, Lemme see your class schedule. We can plan a weekday.”

Dina stands, making her way to your side of the room and taking a seat on your bed without a second thought. It almost made you jealous how simply Dina had been able to talk to you, come into your space, and build plans like the two of you were not strangers being forced to live with each other. If Ellie were here, she would probably say someone like Dina was good for you. Someone who could bite into the world more harshly than yourself, someone who didn’t have to force the confidence. Ellie would probably really like Dina. The thought makes you smile, and a little less stiff when Dina presses against you to watch you open your phone. You swear you hear a giggle at the sight of your lock screen, but you push that thought away.

The two of you spend the next ten minutes with your heads tucked over the tiny screen of your schedule, finally landing on a night that would work for both of you, Wednesday night after your final classes. The topic quickly switched to creating a list of tv shows you could watch during these nights.

Before long, Dina had ended up lying on your bed, your teddy bear tucked in her arms as she stared at the ceiling. “Could I invite Ellie to this a few times? I'm sure she could use the study time..” You ask absentmindedly, fingers scrolling through a list of 2000’s sitcoms. Dina nods, “Sure, maybe I’ll invite my boyfriend sometimes too..” She flips onto her stomach, looking up at where you sit.

“What about Friends?” Dina hums, chin finding her palms.

“I’ll put it down, Ellie hates friends, though,” your nail scrapes across the phone screen, adding the title to the notes you had formed. “What about New Girl?”

Dina seems to like this idea, nodding quickly. “New Girl for sure..” she watches you, head tilting. “Is Ellie the one you kept disappearing for last week? You talk about her a lot.”

The question made you a weird sort of uncomfortable; not sure why the observation from your roommate had you shifting over your blankets. “Yea, I.. she’s my best friend. I was really, um.. nervous about meeting you last week so she kinda let me hide in her dorm.”

Dina laughs gently, “Oh! I thought I had pissed you off or something, and you were hiding out with your girlfriend.”

“No!” you quickly say, fumbling to make a gesture with your hands. “First, definitely not girlfriend,” it felt important to say that before anything else, “and second, you didn't do anything. I'm just a pussy.”

The answer draws another laugh from Dina, which has you smiling along. Your phone is discarded as you find yourself settling back into a conversation about tv shows, “C’mon, let’s keep going with the list.”

A few moments later, a buzz pulls you out of the little world that had grown around you and Dina as you chattered. It was your phone, the picture of you and Ellie that acted as your lock screen covered by a text notification.

els

she axe murder u?

You grin a lot more than you should have, lip sucking between your teeth as you reply.

you

why? worried abt me? 🤨

els

just wanted to see u say i was right

you

k🖕🖕

The text is sent without much more thought, pressing down your phone to be face down as you hop back to the conversation at hand. Ellie, though you hate to admit it, was right. Dina wasn’t an axe murderer. She was actually really cool. She made it easy to talk, the words falling from your lips without the usual pause to make sure it sounded alright.

“Maybe we should start New Girl now,” Dina suggested, pulling the fuzzy blanket on your bed over herself. “Deal,” you grab your laptop from its place under your bed, making quick work of pulling up the show and setting the screen in between you two. You pull your knees to your chest, listening to the theme song as Dina makes herself comfortable on the other side.

When the following text came in, you were a few episodes in, cheeks sore from the jokes Dina had made along with the characters in the show. The sun was beginning to dim by then, and though it was early— you still rubbed your eyes from tiredness. The long drive to Jackson and back always did that to you.

els

come over and watch smthn?

els

i got ur fave snack from the caf

You didn’t see the text this time, phone screen still pressed softly into the corner of your bed. The buzz didn’t gain your attention either, too focused on watching Jess steal a TV from her ex onscreen. You were sure Ellie loved this episode, one you had played far too many times in high school. But the crinkled nose of Ellie’s reaction to jokes was replaced by the loud laughs of your roommate this time, and you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind how you let your eyes blink closed while still sitting up, and didn’t mind how Dina turned off the episode and hopped off your bed.

“You look tired,” she commented, “get some sleep. Jesse wants me to come over anyway.”

You yawn as she speeds around her side of the dorm to put on shoes and gather her phone, blinking your bleary eyes as some sort of embarrassment settles in you. You had almost fallen asleep watching TV when it was barely even six yet. What a great impression to leave.

“Oh shit, sorry..” you sit up further, rubbing your eyes again.

“Dude, you drove like all day. I’d be tired too,” Dina assures you, ”think someone texted you,” she adds as she reaches the door, eyeing your phone screen that had lit up again.

els

???

You nod, offering a smile as a thanks, “See you later.”

Dina grins, shooting you a thumbs up as the door shuts behind her. A small huff is released, your head falling back against your pillows.

None of today had been as bad as you thought it would, but the tension of meeting someone new was still pressing on your bones, and the alone time allowed you to let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Dina was sweet. She made you laugh and relatively comfortable.. but the attempt to make sure she liked you was still leaving a tired ache on you.

You should check your phone, Dina’s reminder ringing in your ears as you let your eyes flutter closed. But sleep seemed more important right now, so you tucked your face into the pillow under you and let yourself have that. Whoever texted could wait.

﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚

Ellie’s head was also pressed into a pillow. Only she was staring at the ceiling, picking at her nails. She tried to ease herself when the third text had gone unanswered, deeming that shoving her phone off the bed dramatically was the only correct answer. It would be too embarrassing to text you again.

Her own dorm room was empty, a movie pressed paused on the first few minutes— a bag of your favorite chips next to it.

Maybe it was a little selfish, texting you and asking you to come over when she had been the one to tell you to get to know Dina. But Ellie was always a little selfish with you.

Especially when you stopped answering her texts.

She wanted to know exactly how everything went, how Dina had acted to you, if she was friendly, and if you got along. She wanted to know what you thought of Dina, what you thought of anything that happened. Ellie wanted you to be sitting on her bed telling her all this like you always did. But you hadn’t answered.

Maybe you had really hit it off with Dina and were doing something. That was what Ellie wanted for you. So she knew there was no reason to feel a sharp twinge in her chest at the thought you had ignored her texts to instead hang out with your roommate.

Her reactions when it came to you never made much sense.

So she had instead ended up with her eyes glued to the white paint of her dorm, convincing herself you had most definitely forgotten about her. Part of her brain waited for a buzz of her phone, maybe a knock on her door. It didn’t come, and Ellie shoved the chips off her bed next in retaliation to this. Maybe she was a little dramatic, but you had ignored her! Or, Ellie assumed you had.

In retrospect, she knew it wasn’t a big deal. She had just spent the whole weekend with you, and it had only been a few hours of unanswered texts. She could survive. She didn’t need her best friend to watch every movie. Ellie could wait until tomorrow to hear about your roommate. She could tell herself all of this, but it still made her ribs hurt a little. A bit more than it should.

But Ellie didn’t like to think about those sorts of things, the things that stayed unspoken between you. That had stayed that way since you met. Honestly, Ellie wasn’t even sure you noticed it. She knows she tries not to. She tries to lock all the little things away in the little box in her brain labeled ‘DON'T GO THERE!’

But when Ellie was alone, when you did things like not answer her for a while, or you two get into a small banter— she knows her reactions weren’t exactly normal. She knows that the anger in her stomach that builds with each moment you don't text her back isn't exactly normal. But as always, Ellie pushes it down. Plays it off to herself as dramatic girl friendships, something Joel used to always say about you and her when another argument left her in a shitty mood.

Yea, that’s all it was.

So she tucked her chin into a pillow, pressing play on the movie by herself, pulling out her journal from its place under her pillow to begin doodling in.

Like always, the pencil begins to leave lines of you. Today it was your sweatshirt that you tugged all around today. Ellie knew it as her own, one you had stolen from her all the way back when she was a senior. She isn’t sure you remember it, but she surely does. She remembers it whenever you pull it over your arms or stuff it in your backpack. You took that thing everywhere when it was cold enough, and Ellie always noticed.

She huffs, scribbling over the sketch with hard pencil marks, ripping through the paper as she writes in bold, messy letters, ‘Don't go there with her.’ Ellie forced the journal closed, doing her best to focus on the screen.

Halfway through the movie, she fell asleep, head pressed halfway on the pillow, her phone still empty from notifications.

series taglist: @totheblood @elliewill @rxllingstones @elliesflower @hrtsellie @ellieluhme @darlingmisa @liabadoobee @muthafuckingstargirl @ribbonsouls @cretaceouss @bambiesfics @sl4t22 @callmekittenandyourmajesty @waywardpiratebird @starfaegirl @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss @haiixo @arcaneangstenjoyer @lllijeu

[ellie-s-list]

Planning an Ellie x Reader!!!

I already have two chapters made, I think it will be around 5-10 parts, depending on how long I want the chapters to be :)

[ellie-s-list]

what would you do if you found out you were illegally cloned and you had genetic identicals living all over the world, living radically different, cooler lives

oh i would kill them for sure. due to my jealousy and what not

[ellie-s-list]

No cause imagine your at a party and start to feel uncomfy you so call Abby and she immediately drops everything to come get you. She would wait outside the car for you to come out and then kneel by the passenger seat asking if your ok 🥺

waaaaa :(

weird poorly written drabble below, possessive!abby, college!abby, men being weird :/

maybe it was just the mood you were in— perhaps you shouldn’t have gone out at all. you were with a group of friends that you weren’t all that close to, and they had all one by one abandoned you to go and get off with someone from the party. you regret drinking as you stand in the corner, not feeling too great anymore — when you notice a guy leering at you from the other side of the room. you snap your eyes away, not wanting him to feel invited by your gaze and busy yourself by pulling out your phone.

you’re scrolling through your settings, anything to look busy and your heart rate picks up, still feeling the creeps eyes on you.

“you’re way too hot to be alone. c’mon. come dance. put that phone down.” the guy pulls your arm, suddenly infront of you and you nearly drop your phone. you grip it tighter, backing up a little.

“sorry, uh — i need to make a call.”

“whatever. you’re not all that anyway.”

you rush out the room, hot in the face and deeply unsettled, hitting abby’s name in your contacts. you stood in the backyard, swivelling around to check he hadn’t followed you as you pressed your phone to your ear, shivering a little in the evening chill.

“Hey baby, you okay?” the comforting voice of your girlfriend came through the line.

“hi abby, uh — i don’t… i don’t really wanna be here i drank too much and there’s this guy being creepy and—”

“what guy? hey, i’ll come and get you yeah? where are your friends?” she was quick, and you could hear the shuffling sound of her getting up to shove her shoes and jacket on.

“um, i don’t know. i don’t — they just all left me.” your voice cracked a little, and abby pushed down the irritation of your friends being so inconsiderate.

“alright, it’s okay i’m coming. just putting my shoes on. you wanna stay on the phone to me?” she urged, cursing under her breath as she stumbled around looking for her other shoe.

“no i think i’m gonna get myself a glass of water. can you just text me when you’re here?” you whimper quietly, not trying to seem like a total loser to any curious eyes.

“alright. be careful, yeah? text me the address, i’ll be as quick as i can.”

you said goodbye, texting your whereabouts and headed back inside on high alert— luckily, not coming across the creep. you manoeuvred your way through the crowd as well as you could, trying to avoid getting caught between sweaty bodies. opening the cupboard you pulled out a glass and filled it up at the tap, leaning against the sink and sipping at the cold water. you stayed there, letting the liquid soothe you until your phone buzzed, text reading ‘Outside’ from Abby.

you all but rushed out of there, relieved to see your girlfriend stood outside her car, concerned expression on her face. her arms were folded over her chest, wearing her black bomber jacket and jeans, her braid hanging down her back. you walked over to her, still pretty tipsy and grabbed her jacket, just to touch her. her brows were furrowed as she cupped your cheek with a large hand, tilting you up to look at her.

“you okay?” she cooed quietly.

“just wanna go.” you nodded, and she nodded back in confirmation, pushing off the car and opening your door for you, helping you in. once you were in, she jogged around and climbed inside, driving away.

you were two streets away when she spoke. “what happened with the — you said there was a creepy guy?” she glanced at you. the road was smooth and empty at this time of night, and you figured you’d probably get home sooner than you usually might.

“oh, um. yeah. he was staring at me all weird and then he came over and told me to get off my phone and dance with him and he pulled my arm so hard i nearly dropped my phone.” you recalled, and on the last sentence — abby didn’t react, just slowed the car and began turning her wheel, hitting a U-turn in the middle of the wide street. “and when i said i needed to make a call he started insulting—” you trailed off slowly, noticing the car heading back where you came from. “abby?”

“what’d he look like?” she didn’t look at you. she didn’t even look angry, just calm — which you knew by now was worse.

“abby.”

“i just wanna talk to him for a minute. what did he look like?” she pushed, voice still calm, eyes on the road.

you hesitate for a moment before recounting. “uh… he had a grey shirt on. had a picture of some kind of beer brand on it i think. he had a blue hat on and wore it backwards… uh… black hair…” you watched her uneasily as she parked the car right where it was when she picked you up.

“alright. i’ll be one minute.” she opened her door and you grabbed her bicep making her pause and look at you, half way out the car.

“what are you gonna do?”

“tell him not to ever touch my girl, ever.” she frowned like it was obvious and you sighed, letting go. the door remained open as she jogged up to the door, letting herself in— no one acknowledging her presence from what you could see before she shut it. a minute went by, and then another. you were about to get out and go inside to look for her when the door opened and abby walked out, leisurely paced— much like the way she entered, still pretty calm.

“alright, we can go now. sorry baby, know you just wanted to get home.” she murmured, clipping her seat belt back on.

“s’okay.” you replied quietly, head turned to look out the window at the house, watching to see if anyone followed her out or looked mad. they didn’t, and the two of you drove away.

you watched the way she drove, her strong profile staring out at the road. your eyes travelled down her strong arm, bicep bulging even through the jacket, her hand gripping the wheel. her bright red knuckles.

“abby, did you talk to him?” you ask, eyes not leaving her hand.

“yeah, babe.”

you paused, continuing to stare before looking at her. “you hit him.” you emphasise, and she says nothing— blinking at you for a moment, following your gaze that was back on her knuckles. “you said you were gonna talk to him.”

“i did.” she shrugged. “and then i hit him.” she added, looking like she wanted to chuckle a little. you sat silently, thinking over her actions. abby really went to the end of the world to protect you, and well — it’s not like he didn’t deserve it. you pictured her in there, towering over him, pounding her knuckles into his cheek making him fall over. you just hoped this wouldn’t get her in any kind of trouble.

“you didn’t have to do that.” you spoke after a while.

“its okay, was just one punch. i didn’t beat the fuck out of him like i wanted to.”