texting loser!ellie that you have nipple piercing in class | bored in english, you reply to a girl named E you’ve been talking to on an anonymous gay dating app—without knowing it’s that lesbian nerd girl, ellie williams. [on-going series, 51k wc]
whiskey & honey | every summer since you were fourteen was spent in Ellie’s family ranch. your mothers are best friends, which only made it harder to understand why you and Ellie were never even friends. or maybe the question isn’t about friendship at all. [completed 24.k wc]
aftertaste: extra sweet | ever since you were a kid, you always knew you were lucky—raised in a loving family, surrounded by a tight friend group that stayed with you from middle school to the last years of high school, your life felt complete, safe, and carefully controlled. You didn’t need anything extra—until Ellie Williams. | trilogy [on-going series, 7.2k wc]
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
how not to get a girl? | how not to get the girl you like? | smau [completed]
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
meeting ellie in detention | one shot
chaotic-hot jock!ellie williams x grumpy-studious!fem reader | one shot
high school best friend!ellie headcanons — who sometimes made you feel like you two could be something
babysitter ellie williams | mistakenly calling her to babysit your drunk ass for the night | one shot
small town sheriff’s daughter!ellie williams x troublemaker!fem reader | one shot
highschool sweetheart ellie | somehow it’s december again and you’re still the first person i want to tell things to | past conversations with your high school sweetheart, ellie williams, back when she was still in love with you | suddenly you're nineteen again and ellie’s nowhere near the girl who made you wish you never reached twenty
subtweet romance | the school’s biggest loser just made an entire hate club… and it’s all about you. [on-going]
hands in your sweater | carl grimes x enemies!daughter | you never knew that being sent to Alexandria would lead to crossing paths again with the one person you should’ve stayed away from. meeting the son of your dad’s greatest enemy drags you through love and loss all over again, making you feel things you thought you'd already buried. [on-going series, 13.5k wc]
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5
southside carl | carl gallagher x new neighbor!fem reader | moving to southside wasn’t part of the plan, but it happened fast after your dad lost his job. what started as a boring summer turned into years of growing up alongside the gallagher chaos, becoming best friends with debbie—and something more complicated with Carl Gallagher. [on-going series, 25k wc]
natalie s. precrash au | transferring in your senior year at Wiskayok High School, the last thing you expect is for cigarette-scented, eyelinered Natalie Scatorccio to take you under her wing—and maybe never let go. | one shot
nat pushing her luck on the sidewalk (asking to court you)
rue x maddy | maddy asking to do rue’s makeup, and rue, being rue—couldn’t say no.
valeria garza x fem!reader | sitting on valeria’s lap, talking about your nails while she works !
maki zenin x fem!reader | comfort, late night softness
synopsis # you never knew that being sent to Alexandria would lead to crossing paths again with the one person you should’ve stayed away from. meeting the son of your dad’s greatest enemy drags you through love and loss all over again, making you feel things you thought you'd already buried.
content warnings # violence/gore, canon character death(s), suicidal ideation, self-harm, emotional trauma, emotional neglect/abandonment, isolation, interpersonal conflict, heavy themes, savior complex, enemies to lovers, slowburn, multi-chapter fic.
word count # 13.5k
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6
texting loser!ellie that you have nipple piercing in class
nerdy loser!ellie x popular mean fem!reader
bored in english, you reply to a girl named E you’ve been talking to on an anonymous gay dating app—without knowing it’s that lesbian nerd girl, ellie williams.
masterlist | next chapter
You were already five minutes into tuning out Miss Alvarez’s ongoing dissection of The Great Gatsby—something about disillusionment, green lights, and doomed men with god complexes. Hard pass.
Your friends beside and behind you were snickering about something—probably someone—but you were too bored to care. Their laughter filtered through like white noise, low and distant.
So, as usual, you turned to the one thing that offered any real entertainment when boredom hit terminal levels. You checked your notifications, cleared out stupid texts from stupid boys, and finally opened that app.
Before doing anything, you glanced around lazily. Dropping your screen brightness and tilted your phone just enough to make sure no one behind you could peek. The layout loaded instantly, familiar and weirdly comforting. No photos, just bios, vague usernames, and chat boxes that were a little too easy to open.
You scrolled through a few profiles aimlessly before switching tabs and landing on your ongoing conversation with someone under the name E.
You’d been messaging back and forth for almost two weeks now. You didn’t really know who she was—just that she was clever, a little snarky, and definitely someone who knew how to keep you engaged without even trying. Sometimes it felt like talking to a complete stranger. Sometimes it felt like she knew you better than half the people at this school.
You stared at the last message she’d sent you last night, the one you’d read four or five times even though it was short and kind of innocent.
E:
“i love reading :]”
Your thumb hovered for a second before you started typing, slouched low in your chair, phone hidden beneath the desk. You tried not to smirk as the words appeared.
You:
what if we kissed behind the nonfiction aisle
JK
unless??
You set your phone down and pretended to scribble something on your notebook, resting your cheek against your hand, bored again within seconds. The teacher’s voice faded into a drone. You started writing nonsense loops with your pen, not really listening to anything anymore.
A loud and sharp buzz suddenly cut through the room. It wasn't yours.
You blinked up and saw Ellie Williams, seated near the front, fumbled to silence her phone while the screen lit up in her hand.
“Please turn that off, Miss Williams,” Miss Alvarez snapped without missing a beat.
A few classmates laughed quietly. Ellie didn’t say anything, she just shrugged like she couldn’t care less and slid her phone into her lap.
You went back to wasting ink, your pen dragging over the edge of the page as your phone buzzed, quiet and controlled this time—just once, the vibration barely a tick beneath your palm as you picked it up immediately.
You flipped it open carefully and read her reply.
E:
only if you promise to dog-ear my soul and underline my bad habits
You slowly raised an eyebrow at her reply.
You stared at the message a little longer than you meant to, eyes dragging over the words again—dog-ear my soul, underline my bad habits. You weren’t sure if it was weird or kind of... brilliant. Either way, it hit somewhere low in your stomach.
You glanced up lazily, scanning the room like it’d help ground you. Miss Alvarez was still going, pacing at the front of the classroom with a paperback copy of Gatsby clenched in one hand. Your friends were still whispering behind you—some drama, someone’s hair, someone’s outfit. None of it mattered.
You typed back.
You:
what bad habits?
name three rn.
You sent it and immediately slid your phone under your notebook like you’d done something criminal. Your pen moved again, looping nonsense in the margins, but your heart was thudding a little now.
The reply came faster than you expected.
E:
falling for girls i shouldn’t
answering texts in class
making it way too obvious when it’s you
Your brow furrowed instinctively. The message was clever, yeah, but the third line sat wrong in your chest.
You typed again before thinking.
You:
weird
That was it. No emoji. No punctuation. The word sitting there like a raised eyebrow.
Her response didn’t take long.
E:
everyone’s a little weird.
some of us just hide it better.
You scoffed quietly through your nose, thumb hovering over your keyboard.
You:
i’m not.
E:
pls.
everyone’s weird.
even you, i know
You hesitated, eyes flicking up again, like anyone in this room might somehow be listening in on this dumb conversation through sheer telepathy.
You went back to your screen.
You:
ok then
tell me 3 weird things about you
You tossed the phone back under your notebook, leaned your head on your hand again, trying not to look as keyed-up as you felt.
The buzz came just as you started drawing a rectangle around nothing in your notes.
E:
i know how to pick locks.
once convinced a teacher i was allergic to chalk to skip a presentation.
i wear rings just to fidget with them when i’m lying.
You stared at it, unsure whether to laugh or raise your guard. You weren’t sure if she was trying to impress you, scare you, or lowkey admit she was a professional liar.
The last one made you pause. You pictured it—hands, silver rings, nervous fidgeting. You glanced around the classroom like the answer might be hiding between pencil cases and Gatsby annotations.
You looked away quickly, back down at your screen.
You:
well that’s very u
you wanna know 3 things about me?
A second passed.
E:
sure :]
You typed, trying not to overthink it.
You:
i once cried because my nail broke before a party
i memorize random license plates when i’m bored
You paused, rereading the first two. They were fine. Harmless and that kind of “weird” that still sounded cute if someone repeated it out loud.
And then, without really thinking—or maybe thinking too much—you typed the third.
You:
i have a nipple piercing
You stared at it for a second before hitting send, lips twitching.
Delivered.
You kept your phone down in your hand and leaned back in your chair like you didn’t just casually confess one of the most insane things you’d ever told a stranger.
You felt the beat of your pulse in your throat as you stared straight ahead, pretending to care about whatever Miss Alvarez was saying about Gatsby’s “moral decay,” while your phone sat under your hand like a loaded weapon.
You glanced down when you felt another buzz.
E:
what the hell
you can’t just drop that as number three like it’s nothing
You snorted, biting the inside of your cheek to keep it contained.
E:
i’m rereading it
you said “i have a nipple piercing” like i say “i had cereal this morning”
You tapped your fingers against your notebook, smirking a little now.
Another message popped up before you could even open your keyboard.
E:
who gave you the right
You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. There was something kind of stupid and hilarious about watching a stranger completely spiral over a throwaway confession. It was stupid and thrilling.
You finally replied.
You:
u said u wanted weird
don’t complain now
The three dots appeared immediately, before they vanished and reappeared again.
E:
you’re lucky we’re in public right now
because i have questions
You stared at the screen for half a second longer than you should, something sharp curling at the edges of your mouth. You knew exactly what you were doing.
You:
u wanna see?
lmao
jk
but ??
You sat there with your phone tucked beneath your hand, like you hadn’t just said the most unhinged thing of your entire academic career. (Well, obviously—because you only let this side of you out with girls.)
E:
JAIL.
straight to jail.
You pressed your knuckles against your lips to keep the sound in. You could feel the heat in your cheeks now, but you were smiling. Fully smiling. You hadn’t even noticed that Miss Alvarez called on someone, that your friends had gone quiet behind you, or that class was dangerously close to ending.
Your phone buzzed again.
E:
i mean
not no
but also
JAILLLLL
You let out a breath through your nose and replied, just two words.
You:
thought so
You didn’t expect her to respond immediately.
The bell hadn’t even rung yet. The room still buzzed with half-bored energy. Your phone was still in your palm, screen lit from her last message.
You stared at it for a second, letting the silence settle. Letting the grin fade into something more calculated. You tucked your phone into your pocket, raised your hand just high enough to get Miss Alvarez’s attention without actually trying.
“Bathroom?” you asked, already standing halfway.
Miss Alvarez waved you off with a distracted, “Be quick.”
You slipped out of the classroom with your bag slung over your shoulder, heart pounding like you’d done something criminal—which, to be fair, you were about to.
The hallway was quiet. Most people were still trapped in last-period misery. You headed straight for the nearest bathroom—one of the nicer ones. Clean mirrors, locked stalls, no broken soap dispensers.
You locked yourself inside and exhaled.
For a second, you just stood there. Staring at your reflection as if you were waiting for her to dare you again.
You went inside a stall and slid your phone out, opening the camera. You angled it in front of your opened blouse—not too obvious, not too graphic. Just enough glimpse of skin and flash of silver.
Sent.
You:
proof
(bc apparently ur dramatic)
You locked your phone immediately after, heart hammering in your ears. You didn’t even wait to see if she replied.
Your phone buzzed.
Three times.
That was enough.
You didn’t open it.
You slipped your phone back into your pocket, a smirk already tugging at your lips, and unlocked the stall.
Your reflection was flushed. Just slightly. Lips pink. Expression smug.
By the time you pushed open the classroom door, everything looked the same—except you knew it wasn’t.
You walked in like nothing happened.
You were halfway down the aisle toward your desk when you passed Ellie.
She was still slouched in her chair, pretending to read the half-assed notes on her desk. But you caught the way her eyes flicked up the second your steps slowed.
Your eyes met.
Her mouth was slightly parted as her eyes followed you.
You raised an eyebrow in response, just barely, and kept walking.
You dropped into your seat with the same calm as before, tossing your bag down, and shot a knowing smirk at your friends—who were, of course, snickering over something unrelated and way less interesting.
For some reason, your gaze landed on Ellie again.
She was still looking at you. Watching you.
You raised your eyebrows again, sharper this time—What?—the kind of look that always worked on everyone. The kind that meant quit staring.
Her gaze raked over you, slow and unreadable, and you frowned without meaning to. Just as you turned back around, you caught the faintest smirk tugging at her lips before her eyes flicked forward like nothing happened.
You rolled your eyes, turned around, and smiled to yourself as you pressed your thumb against your phone screen.
whiskey and honey is soooo good its my favorite story ever. PLEASEE are you gonna make any other fanfics lije this bc ts gets me blushing wnd kicking my feet
oh girl thank you !! it was probably one of my favorite things to write last year. i had so much fun with the softness and fluff of it 🙌 but i don’t know if i could write another one exactly like it though because i feel like it was such a specific little moment/vibe 😭
two weeks left of school and i have so many things to do for finals but 50k words of slowburn with your slightly pervert roommate hange!zoe is really calling me rn ugh
cw: hange zoe x fem!reader, sfw, i can't find the artists, help!! listen to this while reading ^^
# would be the type to call you any kind of endearment and even makes her own that she can think of. she calls you differently each day that sometimes you wonder where she gets those ideas. one morning it’s “sunbeam,” the next it’s “sweet star,” then suddenly “my favorite lab assistant” even though you’ve never stepped foot near her experiments.
# forgets dates sometimes because she’s so absorbed in titan research. when she realizes, she panics immediately. like full sprint through headquarters, hair messy, glasses crooked, papers still in her hands. she bursts into the room already apologizing. when you ignore her she goes full drama mode, dropping to her knees like she’s been mortally wounded. “munchkin, i'm sorry!!! don’t exile me from your love!!!” she’ll spend the next few days doing literally anything to get you to forgive her. bringing you tea, sneaking sweets, clinging to you like a sad puppy.
# is the biggest ragebaiter on paradis island when it comes to you!! asks the most ridiculous questions just to see your reactions. “if titans could marry people do you think they'd propose with a finger or the whole hand?” she watches your face light up with annoyance like it’s the most fascinating thing she’s ever studied.
# gets really nervous when you’re mad at her but secretly also thinks you’re so hot when you’re worked up. like she’ll be apologizing while also thinking wow yeah that's my girlfriend..
# hates when the others tease her about you. when someone makes a comment, she'd just immediately goes “shut up.” and walks away with bright red ears.
# biggest softie ever in private. loves cuddles more than she’ll ever admit out loud. she’s always the small spoon, arms wrapped around you while she talks about whatever random thought pops into her head at 2am.
# absolutely adores when you wash her hair for her. before she met you, she was so busy with experiments that she’d forget basic things like that sometimes. her hair used to be greasy half the time 😭😭 (this is canon btw) because she’d just push it off for “later.” but now you’re the one who drags her to sit down and washes it for her properly. she melts every time, eyes closed, leaning into your hands like a very content cat. sometimes she’ll mumble sleepy little thank yous while you rinse the soap out.
# loves it when you show even the tiniest bit of interest in her titan research. if you ask one question she will talk for HOURS, eyes shining like a kid who just got their favorite toy just like back when you still weren’t dating. she once managed to keep you up until dawn rambling about titan experiments, even though everyone had warned you not to ask her about it.
# will randomly grab your hand mid-conversation because she just likes feeling that you’re there. sometimes she doesn’t even notice she’s doing it.
# constantly forgets to take care of herself (skipping meals, staying up all night working) but listens immediately if you tell her to rest. like the moment you say “hange, go to sleep,” she just sighs and dramatically collapses beside you.
# once tried to measure your heartbeat while you were cuddling and got distracted halfway through because she started thinking about how warm you were.
# she drag you one time to watch her experiments because she genuinely thinks you find them fascinating. she gets way too excited explaining things while you’re just standing there like “hange… that titan is literally screaming.”
# gets weirdly competitive when it comes to who loves who more. if you say “i love you” she’ll immediately go “well i love you more actually.” and if you argue back she starts listing evidence like she’s presenting a case.
# when she’s stressed she gets quieter than usual and ends up seeking you out without even realizing it. she’ll just sit next to you, lean her head on your shoulder, and suddenly she’s calmer.
# absolutely lights up when you laugh at her jokes. then she’ll keep repeating the joke or making new ones just to hear that sound again.
# when she’s reading or writing reports she absently leans against you. sometimes her head ends up in your lap and she doesn’t even notice until you start playing with her hair.
# when she’s half-asleep she gets veryyyy very clingy, arms wrapped around your waist, face buried in your shoulder, mumbling nonsense while refusing to let go.
# loves the fact that you’re someone she can be completely ridiculous around without being judged. she already acts wild with everyone, but with you she lets herself be even softer.
# sometimes forgets personal space exists. she’ll lean way too close while talking, push her glasses up with your finger instead of her own, or casually rest her head on you mid-conversation like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
# if someone ever flirts with you in front of her, she doesn’t get jealous in a dramatic way. she just casually slides an arm around your shoulders and starts talking way too enthusiastically about titan anatomy until the person leaves.
# if you ever get hurt during a mission she becomes terrifyingly serious. the usual chaos disappears instantly while she’s checking you over, hands careful but quick.
# but the moment she realizes you’re okay she goes right back to dramatic mode. “don’t ever scare me like that again!! my heart almost exploded!!”
# will occasionally talk about you to the titans she’s studying. you’ll overhear her saying something like “you see that soldier over there? that’s my favorite human actually.”
# sometimes she studies your face the same way she studies titan behavior. when you ask what she’s doing she just says “observing. you’re my favorite subject.”
synopsis # ever since you were a kid, you always knew you were lucky—raised in a loving family, surrounded by a tight friend group that stayed with you from middle school to the last years of high school, your life felt complete, safe, and carefully controlled. You didn’t need anything extra—until Ellie Williams.
content warnings # enemies-to-lovers, childhood & high school setting (mostly flashbacks), first crushes, internalized homophobia, messy friend group dynamics, ellie and reader can’t stand each other! sexual tension, denial, reader confusion about feelings and sexuality, jealousy, unrequited crushes, angst, fluff.
word count # 2.6k~
▸ previous chapter | next chapter
Despite the fact that Ellie had been completely MIA the whole week after New Year’s, her words inside that tiny, cramped closet replayed in your head on repeat, keeping you awake at night as you thought back on everything she’d done since you were kids—right up to the last thing she did that made you feel this way, the bracelet she’d given you on your birthday last month.
“Wow… this is what you got from Ellie?” Dina gaped, holding the thin of silver up to her face as she studied it.
“…Yeah,” you sighed, letting your eyes follow her as her expression shifted from shock to dazed awe.
You thought about telling Dina what had been keeping you up all week. She was your best friend, after all. There was no reason to hide anything from her—especially not something like this. But things like this… well, they were different when Ellie was involved.
“Huh,” Dina frowned softly at the thin of silver, tilting it as if she was noticing something odd about it.
You hesitated, twisting your hands in your lap.
“It’s a bit large for my wrist actually…” you shrugged casually.
“Really?” Dina raised her eyebrows and immediately grabbed your hand, inspecting it. She laughed, loud and full, shaking her head. “Oh my god… this is a total bum! Ellie couldn’t even get this right!”
You shook your head, unable to stop yourself from laughing along with her. She stared at the bracelet again, holding your hand for a full minute before giving a dramatic “I don’t get it.”
“What, you don’t get—” you started, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t get why she would give you this expensive thing when she didn’t even get it right for you,” Dina said, shaking her head slowly.
You stayed quiet, letting her talk, watching her animated expression.
“Was this supposed to annoy you?” she asked, squinting as if she could read your mind.
“I… don’t know?” you admitted, shrugging.
“Are you annoyed?” she pressed, eyebrows arched suspiciously.
You scoffed, thinking about the last two years Ellie hadn’t even gotten you a birthday gift. “I mean… not really. No,” you muttered, shaking your head again.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” you said, your voice low.
Dina leaned closer, voice dropping like she was about to spill some secret. “What happened inside the closet anyway? Ellie looked… annoyed when she came out, from what my drunk brain remembers.”
“Nothing happened…” you said quickly, lying without even thinking. “And if anyone should be annoyed, it should be me. Not her.” You rolled your eyes, letting a small smirk slip.
Dina scoffed, shaking her head in mock exasperation. “You two are so mature.”
“Yeah, but if you were in my position for the last six years, you wouldn’t be able to say that,” you muttered, matter-of-fact.
Dina tilted her head, watching you carefully, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Honestly? If I were in your position… I’d probably just, I don’t know… be dating her already.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “…Wait, what?”
“Think about it,” she said, shrugging like it was obvious. “She’s been around forever. Always there. If it were me? I’d just… go for it. Stop overthinking everything.”
You stared at her. “Go for it, how?”
Dina laughed, tossing her hands in the air. “Like… start a relationship? Obviously, you wouldn’t just sit there, being all weird about gifts and closets and stuff,” she said, grinning.
You let out a short, sharp laugh. “Yeah, right. Easy for you to say. You don’t… you don’t get it.”
“Hey, I’m just saying what I would do,” Dina grinned, leaning back. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
You squinted at her. “Do you like Ellie or something?”
She snorted. “Hell, no. I’m just saying… if I were you, I wouldn’t be this weird about it.”
You rolled your eyes lazily, leaning back on the couch. “But I’m not gay. You know that.”
Dina just laughed at your face, shaking her head, and didn’t say anything. You frowned at her reaction, watching her walk to the kitchen, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
That conversation with Dina certainly didn’t help at all. If anything, it made everything worse.
Girls never really crossed your mind that way. Yeah, you’d felt the occasional crush—those awkward little flutters, a few casual dates here and there—but they were always on guys. Always “normal,” the kind of thing your Christian parents expected you to like, the kind of thing that fit neatly into the rules you’d grown up with. But Ellie? Ellie had somehow twisted your brain into questioning everything you thought you knew about yourself.
You shoved the pillow aside, glaring at the ceiling. You hated that you couldn’t stop replaying her words from that cramped closet. You hated that your chest felt tighter just thinking about the way she grinned at you, even in those moments when you were insulting her wholeheartedly.
You went to sleep that night, convincing yourself that maybe you only felt this way because it was impossible to get along with her normally, that maybe if you were just friends like everyone else, none of this would happen. And if there ever came a time when you two became friends, it would stop feeling like this.
The next morning, the sun filtered lazily through the blinds, casting stripes across Dina’s living room. Despite the chill outside, the room was warm and noisy. It was the last day before classes resumed, and everyone had ended up at her place, sprawled across couches and floor cushions like it was the middle of summer instead of winter.
You leaned over the arm of the couch, mindlessly scrolling on your phone while everyone talked about nothing in particular while watching something on the TV. You didn’t have the energy to join in, just letting their voices wash over you—until you caught Jesse saying Ellie’s name.
“Does anyone even know if Ellie’s coming over?”
No one answered.
“Seriously she’s not replying to my messages either,” Jesse said, flopping back on the couch with a dramatic groan.
“Shut up, Jesse. You talk like a girl,” Alex muttered from beside him.
“Am I not allowed to worry about my best friend? Who, by the way, is your friend too, Alexa.” Jesse shot back.
“What if she—I don’t know—hurt herself or something?” Jesse added, eyes wide, trying to make a point.
“What would make her do that, Jess?” Dina asked, frowning.
“I don’t know, man but she looked crushed last week,” Jesse said, shrugging.
Alex laughed, shaking his head. “Crushed? Really? Because I literally saw her on a date yesterday.”
And just like that, Ellie walked in, a girl by her side.
“Dude, you’re fucking alive!” Jesse grinned, swinging the door open wider and giving Ellie a side hug.
“I’m gonna kill you if you told them what happened,” Ellie said, eyes narrowing at him.
Your eyes flicked from Ellie to the girl beside her—you didn’t recognize her. This also wasn’t the girl she’d made out with over New Year’s.
You sighed softly, forcing your gaze back to the TV. She always said she didn’t play around—but here she was, sticking to her word in the most infuriating way possible.
Why were you even bothered? It wasn’t like it was new—Ellie had always dated around, and you weren’t supposed to care. But for some reason, seeing her with a girl now left a bitter taste in your mouth.
Over the following weeks, Cat started tagging along with the group more often. She was pretty, funny in a quiet, effortless way, and could talk to anyone without trying. Honestly… she looked like the kind of girl Ellie would date.
You told yourself you didn’t really mind her being there. Of course you did—you made yourself believe that was how it should be. So you kept your distance, focusing on everything except Ellie and her girlfriend.
But Ellie… well, she had a way of getting under your skin, no matter what. You caught her looking at you sometimes, watching you while Cat stood right beside her, laughing and talking. Your chest would tighten every time, you’d have to look away.
That week, Dina had practically dragged you to the gym, insisting you come watch the game even though you’d told her you weren’t in the mood.
Now you were perched on the bleachers, surrounded by noise and cheering, trying not to frown as you watched Cat wipe Ellie’s sweat after she’d won with her teammates.
You forced yourself to look away, focusing on anything else, until Ellie’s grating voice cut through the crowd.
“What's wrong, princess? You look like the sky and earth just fell on you,” she smirked, settling a seat a little away from you, a spare shirt draped over her shoulder.
You crossed your arms, refusing to meet her gaze. “I hate dirty players,” you muttered, voice low and measured.
Ellie snorted, a mock frown tugging at her lips. “I didn’t realize you were paying this much attention to me during the game.”
You let out a slow, deliberate sigh, keeping your tone flat and uninterested. “Everyone saw it,” you said, eyes flicking elsewhere, tuning out the surrounding chatter.
Ellie leaned back on the bleacher, tilting her head like she was studying you. “Everyone? You mean… everyone’s judging me because of what? My epic skills?” she teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
You raised an eyebrow, tone sharper than intended. “No, because you cheat.”
Ellie’s grin widened. “Cheat? Really? Care to explain.”
You glanced at her shortly, before looking away. “I saw you elbow Taylor in the first half,” you shrugged.
Ellie laughed under her breath. “Oh, come on, that’s part of the game. Don’t act like you weren’t watching.”
You huffed, crossing your arms tighter. “I was watching, yes. And I didn’t like it.”
She chuckled, then shook her head with a mock frown. “Why are you even here if you don’t like it?”
“Because my best friend’s here, so I’m supposed to be,” you shot back lightly, glancing at her before flicking your eyes to Cat walking over. “Just like your girlfriend’s here because you’re here.”
Ellie’s lip tugged into a grin. She glanced at Cat, stood up, and brushed off her shorts, then turned back to you, the same irritating smirk on her lips. “Well, then… I’ll go to my girlfriend now.”
You frowned softly, watching her walk back to Cat, who was smiling up at her. You looked away just as Ellie kissed her, then headed home right after, texting Dina that you weren’t feeling well enough to join the plans she had for you.
Each day it got harder to stay “cool” around Ellie. And each day, you realized you could never be anything with her. You couldn’t even tolerate her enough to be friends. And being anything more than that wasn’t possible. So more often than not, you just chose to not go with them if you knew Ellie and Cat would be there.
That was what was on your mind when you finally said yes to Dina about going to this house party, two weeks later. But the moment you stepped in and saw Ellie lounging on the couch with the others, your stomach dropped.
Fuck.
There was no time to look shocked or scared, so you swallowed whatever you felt and followed Dina, trying to act casual.
The music thumped, voices collided, and the mix of sweat and cheap alcohol made your stomach twist. After Dina disappeared somewhere—God knows where—you ended up perched on the kitchen counter, trying to disappear into the chaos.
From there, you could still see Ellie on the couch, Cat beside her. They were the only ones left, talking quietly while everyone else was wrapped up around.
You let out a slow, exasperated sigh. The tequila you’d been sipping was threatening to make an appearance the wrong way, so you tried to find a bathroom. No luck. You went upstairs, trying to make yourself throw up, but it wouldn’t work.
Frustrated, you opened the door to leave—and froze. Ellie was there.
“What the fuck?” you muttered, taken off guard.
Her eyes flicked to you, then down at what you were wearing. “What were you doing?” she asked.
You let out a quiet sigh, trying to steady the sudden thump of your heart. She wore her hat backwards, a red graphic tee and worn jeans that clung just enough to catch the light—careless and effortless aura she always carried.
You raised an eyebrow. “What do you think? I was sleeping in the bathroom?” Your voice carried the sarcasm you didn’t quite feel.
She chuckled lowly, but she still didn’t step aside so you frowned.
“…I was just wondering,” Ellie said, she rested her hand lightly on the side of the doorway, fingers brushing against the frame as if leaning on it for balance. “You haven’t really been around this past week.”
You lifted a brow. “And?”
She shrugged faintly. “Nothing.”
The silence stretched, thick and weird. You shifted your weight, feeling the alcohol churn in your stomach.
“Okay. Can you move?” you muttered.
Ellie glanced at you, then to the side, finally stepping back just enough for you to pass.
You didn't say anything and brushed past her shoulder.
But just as you did, her hand reached out and wrapped around your wrist.
You froze.
Her grip wasn’t tight, but it held enough to stop you in your tracks.
Ellie leaned slightly, a subtle sway betraying her steps. A faint pink dusted her cheeks, and her lips were glossy, catching the light from the hallway. Her sharp and playful eyes locked on yours.
“Are you avoiding me?” she asked, her voice low, stretching out just a fraction, almost slurred.
Your chest tightened, heart hammering in a way that had nothing to do with anger. Every inhale felt too loud, too aware of the warmth of her hand against your skin. You tugged gently, trying to pull free.
“Let me go,” you muttered, voice firmer than you felt.
“Why?” she asked, stepping closer, and you caught the faint sway of her body as she moved.
“Because… just let me go, Ellie.” You repeated, voice firmer this time.
Her thumb brushed yours, almost accidentally, and a shiver ran down your spine. She didn’t let go. Instead, she stepped closer, leaning in, voice dropping almost to a whisper.
“Tell me… am I hurting you?”
Your eyes dropped to her hand—cold, knuckles pale from how tightly she was gripping your wrist now.
You swallowed hard, mind racing. The faint scent of alcohol and her warmth pressed into your senses, making it impossible to answer logically.
“Yes,” you breathed, chest rising slow and uneven. “You are.”
Her eyes softened, vulnerability flickering through the haze of the room. The grip loosened slightly, but she still held on, stepping just close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off her.
“Tell me what I can—” she started, her voice rough. “What can I do?”
Your heart was racing too fast, your thoughts too loud. You pulled your hand back suddenly, shaking your head.
“You’re drunk, Ellie.”
You didn’t wait for her to respond. You left and went straight home.
You couldn’t stay in the same place after the way she looked at you, after the way she said that—like she meant it, even if she didn’t fully understand it herself.
The next morning, Dina was the first to call you.
She filled you in on all the drama you’d missed after leaving—but the part that made your stomach drop was that Ellie had broken up with Cat.
synopsis # you never knew that being sent to Alexandria would lead to crossing paths again with the one person you should’ve stayed away from. meeting the son of your dad’s greatest enemy drags you through love and loss all over again, making you feel things you thought you'd already buried.
The door finally gave in with a splintering crack.
Carl was the first to move.
“Run!” he snapped, grabbing your wrist and yanking you forward just as the first walker tumbled through the doorway, its jaw hanging loose, eyes green and empty.
You didn’t argue and ran.
The world exploded into noise and motion. Glass shattered under your shoes, shelves crashed behind you, and something cold brushed your ankle as you vaulted over a fallen display. Your foot screamed in protest, pain shooting up your leg with every step, but adrenaline drowned it out. You gritted your teeth and forced yourself to keep going.
You two burst through the emergency exit and into the open street.
They were everywhere.
“Fuck,” you gasped under your breath.
Shadows poured from between abandoned establishments, spilling into the road like a flood. Groans layered over one another, bodies dragged themselves forward, arms outstretched, drawn to the sound of your panic.
Carl didn’t slow. He pulled you along, weaving between rusted cars and broken fences, firing only when one got too close. Each gunshot echoed, bouncing off the empty storefronts.
A walker suddenly lunged from behind a van. You screamed, swinging blindly, and Carl fired before it could touch you. The body dropped inches from your feet.
“Don’t look,” he barked, yanking you forward again.
You stumbled over loose gravel, your ankle twisting as your foot slipped. Pain flared white-hot and you cried out, losing your balance. Carl caught you before you hit the ground, his grip tight.
“Don’t stop,” he said, breath ragged. “You stop, you die.”
“I’m trying!” You snapped back, barely able to breathe.
Your lungs burned. Your legs shook. Every step felt heavier than the last, as if the ground was pulling you back toward the dead. But you kept running. You had no choice.
Everything blurred together until the road gave way to dirt and trees swallowed you whole. Branches whipped at your face and arms, leaves crunching beneath your shoes as you plunged into the woods.
You ran until your lungs burned, until the world narrowed into nothing but the sound of your heartbeat and the weight of his hand dragging you forward.
You didn’t know how long you ran. It could have been minutes or hours. All you knew was that eventually the groans faded into the distance, swallowed by the trees.
At some point, you tripped again.
And Carl, dragged you upright again before you even hit the ground.
“Are you trying to get us killed?” he shouted, panic cracking through his voice.
You wrenched your arm from his grip. “My foot is bleeding, asshole!”
He froze, eyes flicking down to the dark stain spreading through your sock.
“Then lean on me,” he said, already stepping closer. “Come on.”
“I don’t need—”
“Yes, you do,” he snapped. “Move.”
You bit back whatever you were going to say and let him pull you along, your arm slung over his shoulder. He adjusted his pace, slower now, but still fast enough that the fear stayed sharp in your chest.
The groans followed you into the trees, distant but still there, a reminder that you weren’t safe yet.
You kept going until your legs finally gave out.
You collapsed against a fallen log, gasping, your body shaking uncontrollably. Carl dropped beside you a second later, bracing his hands on his knees, his chest rising and falling fast.
Neither of you spoke at the moment.
The forest was quiet except for the distant creak of branches and the faint hum of insects. The sky had begun to darken, the sun slipping behind the trees, painting the world in deep blue shadows.
Carl moved first, setting up a small fire with shaking hands. He kept glancing into the woods, gun resting across his lap.
You just watched him, still breathing heavily, painfully aware of the throbbing pain in your bleeding feet.
After setting up the fire, he sat across from you, staring into the flames.
The warmth should have helped you, but it didn't.
“I’m tired,” you said suddenly, your voice barely louder than the crackle of the fire.
Carl looked up, watching your expression.
He cleared his throat and stood, “I’m gonna set up a snare. Stay here, just shout when you need me.”
Without a word, he dropped a knife beside you.
Your eyes followed the blade as it hit the dirt, then slowly lifted to him. His gaze flicked to your feet, lingering on the blood-soaked fabric, his jaw tightening like he wanted to say something, but didn’t.
He turned away. “I’ll be back,” he said, already stepping into the shadows.
Carl disappeared into the darkening forest, swallowed by the trees. The fire crackled softly beside you, its glow shrinking against the growing night. You tried to stay alert, scanning the woods, listening for anything.
But your body was begging you to stop. All you wanted was to lie down. To close your eyes and rest, even if it was only for a second.
The silence felt eerie, and your skin prickled with unease. Then you heard soft small footsteps behind you.
You snapped your head around and lurched to your feet, heart slamming against your ribs. Your breath came fast and shallow, the knife clenched tightly in your hand as you backed away from the firelight.
“Carl?” you whispered.
Something moved again.
You froze, pulse roaring in your ears, every muscle coiled to run or fight.
Then a small shape burst into view.
A rabbit…
It leapt from the brush, eyes wide, frozen in the same fear that had been living in your chest for days. Before you could think, your body moved on instinct.
You threw the knife. The metal cut clean through the air and struck its mark. The rabbit dropped, blood spilling into the leaves, its body twitching once before going still.
The forest went quiet again.
Your hand fell to your side, trembling.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you stared at what you’d done.
You took a shaky step forward, toward the lifeless body, guilt crashing over you all at once. You didn’t even know if you were apologizing to the rabbit… or to yourself.
And that’s when you heard footsteps returning through the trees.
You spun around.
It was Carl.
He froze when he saw the rabbit at your feet, then looked back at you, eyebrows lifting slightly. “Whoa,” he said quietly. “That was… fast.”
Your throat tightened and swallowed hard, staring at the blood soaking into the leaves. “I killed it,” you said, your voice low and unsteady, guilt flashing across your face.
Carl stepped closer, his gaze lingering on the rabbit before drifting back to you. He didn’t say anything but his eyes looked like they're searching for something. Then his expression softened.
“It was going to die either way,” he said gently. “Out here, nothing gets a clean ending. Walkers would’ve torn it apart. Or something worse.”
You hesitated before nodding, though your chest still felt heavy.
He crouched and picked up the rabbit, careful and quiet, like he didn’t want to scare you further. “You did good,” he added, softer.
You sat on the fallen log while he worked, unable to look away as he cleaned and skinned it with steady hands. You weren’t sure if it was the firelight or exhaustion, but his face looked older than it had that morning, shadows cutting into his cheeks, his jaw set with a kind of calm you didn’t understand.
When he finished, he skewered the meat on a stick and held it over the fire. The smell filled the clearing, sharp and unfamiliar, but it made your stomach twist with hunger.
You ate in silence.
The meat was tough, smoky, and tasted faintly metallic, the leftover blood giving it a strange tang, but you didn’t complain. You chewed slowly, letting the warmth spread through you for the first time since you ran.
Across the fire, You caught Carl watching you before he looked away quickly.
You watched him for a second longer before lowering your gaze to your feet. Your injured one twitched slightly, the pulsing ache running up your leg.
“Is it bad?” you heard Carl ask quietly.
You moved your heel a little, testing it, then let out a tired sigh and looked back at him. “If I’m not gonna die from being torn apart, I’m probably gonna die from an infection.” Your lips tugged into a weak half-smile, though it wasn’t really a joke.
Carl frowned, jaw tightening softly. “We’re going back to Alexandria tomorrow.”
You stared at him, surprised, a hundred thoughts rushing through your heads. You nodded slowly, absorbing what he just said about taking you back to Alexandria, unsure what you were supposed to feel—relief, fear, or something in between.
“What if… what if I die tonight?” you asked quietly, not even sure why the words slipped out. Maybe you just wanted to hear him say something.
Carl looked at you immediately. “You won’t.”
You let out a small, humorless breath. “You don’t know that.”
“No one’s going to die tonight, okay? Stop thinking that way.” He shook his head, clearly annoyed, before standing and grabbing his canteen. “I’ll find water,” he said, already scanning the dark woods.
He disappeared between the trees before you could say anything.
You hugged your arms around yourself, staring into the now burning low fire, feeling strangely exposed. You hadn’t noticed how much you were relying on him until he was gone. The thought made your chest tighten, but also brought a small, unexpected sense of comfort.
When he finally came back with water, you felt a wave of relief wash over you, even though you didn’t say a word.
He handed you the canteen without a word. You took it, letting the cool water flow down your parched throat. When you were done, you handed it back silently.
Then, without warning, he dropped down in front of you.
“What are you—”
“Let me clean your wound,” he interrupted, his voice soft but firm.
You froze for a second, heart thudding, but then nodded. You slipped off your shoes, the cool dirt of the forest floor sending a shiver up your legs. Your mind couldn’t help but flicker back to the first time he had done the same thing to you, back at the barn. Your chest tightened at the memory, both familiar and oddly comforting.
Carl’s hands moved carefully as he examined your ankle. His fingers were gentle, brushing away dirt and blood, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away. He tore a strip from his jacket, dampening it with water, and began wrapping it around your ankle.
When he tied it off with a thin strip from his t-shirt, you held your breath, watching every movement. He worked slowly, deliberately, making sure it was secure but not cutting off circulation. His eyes flicked up at you once, briefly meeting yours, before returning to the task.
You let him do it, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and nervousness coil in your chest. The warmth of the fire, the closeness, and the way he handled your pain—it all made your heart beat faster than it had a moment ago.
When he finished, he leaned back slightly, brushing his hands on his knees. You swallowed hard, trying to look casual, but inside, your chest felt like it had been stirred awake.
“Thanks..” You muttered, unable to look at the boy in front of you.
He let out a low sigh and stood, brushing the dirt from his knees. “You can rest now,” he said quietly.
“How about you?” you asked, voice small.
“I’m gonna keep watch,” Carl replied, his tone steady, not looking at you as he moved to the edge of the clearing.
You nodded, biting your lip, then lowered yourself carefully onto the ground, dirt and leaves scratching at your skin. You turned your back toward him, giving him space, though your body ached and your mind raced.
He stomped down the remnants of the fire, dirt scattering, until only a faint glow remained. The forest around you felt enormous and silent, the distant groans of the dead replaced by the whisper of the wind through the trees.
Lying there, pressed against the cold dirt and the rustle of leaves, your chest twisted with a warmth that felt wrong and unwanted.
You turned to him and kept your eyes on him, just barely visible in the dim firelight, the way he crouched by the small, dying flames, lost in his own movements.
Why did he do that again? Why did he care enough to clean your wound, to bandage it, to stay close without saying a word? Was it guilt, responsibility… or something else? You didn’t know. You couldn’t read him, and that made your chest twist even tighter.
Your eyes pricked and watered, turning onto your side, curling inward, and let out a long, shuddering sigh.
Deep down, you knew you shouldn’t feel this—he was the son of your father’s enemy. He could never be… yours, not in any way that mattered.
And yet, here you were, heart hammering, mind betraying you with every memory of his hands on your wound, the way he looked at you, the care in his voice. How could this happen to you? How could the only person who might ever… make you feel this way, be the one you were never allowed to want?
Anger burned under the ache, hot and bitter. It felt like the universe itself was punishing you, piling on, reminding you of your place, reminding you of the sins of your family. The guilt of your father, the wars he started, the blood on his hands—it wasn’t yours, but somehow it landed here, on your chest, in your heart, making it impossible to breathe without feeling the weight.
Your lips pressed together, and you closed your eyes, willing yourself not to want him, willing yourself not to ache. But the warmth stayed, a stubborn fire you couldn’t put out, even as tears slipped down your cheeks.
How could something so… simple, so human, feel like a betrayal? You hated it. You hated that you wanted it. You wanted the care, the warmth, the attention—and that desire felt like a rebellion against everything you’d been told to believe, against everything you should feel, against the world itself.
And you hated even more that you couldn’t stop thinking about whether he felt it too.
Your lips trembled slightly as you stared into the darkened woods, the soft sounds of his breathing somewhere nearby.
The ache in your chest was spreading, turning sharp, unbearable. When would it stop? When would this constant, twisting pain in your heart, your life, your head… end? You didn’t know if it ever would.
Your eyes drifted to the knife lying beside you. The metal glinted faintly in the dying firelight. Slowly, almost mechanically, you sat up, fingers curling around the handle. Your hand shook, the weight of it somehow both comforting and horrifying.
Tears blurred your vision. Your heart felt too big, too heavy, hammering painfully in your chest. You hated your life. You hated your father and the mess he left behind and you missed your mother.
You just wanted to… make this feeling stop.
The knife pressed lightly against your wrist.
And then—
The knife was ripped from your hand.
You yelped, stumbling back, eyes wide and blurring with tears.
Carl.
He stood over you, chest heaving, eyes wide with anger and shock. “What the hell are you doing?!” His voice was sharp, trembling with fear.
“Carl… I don’t want to… anymore,” you whispered, voice breaking. “I just… I just wanna—”
“No,” Carl cut in, firm, his hand gripping your shoulder. “I’m not letting you.”
“Carl, you don’t understand!” you cried, your tears streaking down your face. “You don’t know what’s happening to me! You don’t know what Negan would do… what he could make me go through!”
“I don’t fucking care,” Carl snapped, his voice raw, but steady. “I’m not letting you kill yourself.”
Your face twisted, a mixture of anger, shame, and helplessness. Carl’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he crouched down to your level, softening his expression.
“If I have to stay awake all night just so you don’t do this… I will,” he said quietly, his hands cupping your cheeks. “Shh… don’t cry.” His eyes softened as he looked at you. “We’re going back to Alexandria tomorrow. I’ve got you. Everything’s gonna be okay.”
You sobbed at his gentleness, your face contorting as the tears spilled freely. “Carl I… I can’t even walk properly at this point,” you choked out, your voice breaking.
Carl’s grip didn’t falter. His hands stayed on your cheeks, thumbs brushing the tears from your skin. “I know,” he murmured softly, voice tight with something you couldn’t name. “I see it… I see how hard this is. But I'll be with you, okay?..”
You wanted to argue, to push him away, to tell him you didn’t deserve this care, but your body wouldn’t obey. Your legs trembled beneath you, your heart felt like it would burst, and all you could do was let the tears fall, let the sobs shake your chest. His warmth, steady hands, and calm presence held you upright, tethering you to a world you thought you no longer wanted.
And in that quiet ache, between your broken breaths and his steady gaze, you realized for the first time in what felt like forever… maybe it was okay to want to keep going.
You tried not to glance at Carl as he drove the car you two had found along the way. He had insisted on carrying you on his back earlier, despite your protests, and no matter how many times you’d told him you could walk beside him, your ankle—or more accurately, your inability to put any weight on it—had won.
“I’m not getting on your back, I’m telling you! I’m not that useless, Carl!”
“Well, princess, you don’t really have a choice, because your feet are useless now!”
“You can never make me.”
“Watch me.”
Now, the massive gates of Alexandria rose before you. Your heart thudded, a mix of relief, fear, and something you didn’t want to name. The car slowed as Carl brought it to a stop. He glanced at you, eyes soft, before stepping out. Hands raised, he approached the gate, and the front man lowered his gun, recognizing him instantly.
Rick appeared from behind the wall, worry etched into his face before it melted into a grin when he saw Carl. Without hesitation, he pulled him into a strong hug. You stayed inside the car, clutching the seat, watching it all unfold. Daryl and Michonne’s eyes flicked toward the car, sizing you up with a careful curiosity.
Carl finally turned back toward you, hand reaching for the door. He helped you out, and the world narrowed to just the two of you. The ache in your chest was familiar and stubborn—caught between fear, relief, and a pull toward him, even now, back in Alexandria.
After Denise finished treating your ankle, she left you alone, murmuring something about “rest and let it heal.”
Daryl had stopped by earlier, silent as ever, giving you a nod before he left. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t say anything—just a quick glance and then gone. You didn’t know where Carl was. He hadn’t been seen since he left you at the infirmary, and the thought twisted something raw inside you.
A sharp knock drew your gaze. The door creaked as it opened, and Rick stepped in, his face serious but controlled, carrying that familiar weight of authority and concern. “Hey… kid,” he said softly, voice steady. “Carl told me everything that happened.”
You only looked at him, unable to say anything. He sighed when he figured you would say anything.
“Your father is outside…”
Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard, throat dry. You had known this day would come. You’d hoped it wouldn’t, but deep down, some part of you had always known.
After being escorted out of the infirmary, you saw the truck rumble into view, and there he was—Negan. His face serious, the usual swagger stripped away, replaced by something heavier, more deliberate. He watched you struggle to step forward, your ankle weak, and no one from his men moved to help. Everyone in Alexandria seemed to be holding their breath, eyes fixed on you, your stomach twisting under the weight of their gaze.
You wanted to look for Carl, to find something to cling to—but your gaze refused to move. Your legs felt like lead, heavy with exhaustion and pain.
“There you go… it’s time to go home, kid,” Negan said, low and controlled, his voice cutting through the quiet tension.
You dropped your eyes, avoiding his completely, and took a shaky step forward. A quiet sigh escaped you as you moved toward the truck. You glanced back once, just long enough to catch Carl among the watching crowd. His eyes were fixed on you, worry and something unspoken flickering across his face.
You quickly looked away, swallowing the ache in your chest, and slid into the truck.
synopsis # ever since you were a kid, you always knew you were lucky—raised in a loving family, surrounded by a tight friend group that stayed with you from middle school to the last years of high school, your life felt complete, safe, and carefully controlled. You didn’t need anything extra—until Ellie Williams.
content warnings # enemies-to-lovers, childhood & high school setting (mostly flashbacks), first crushes, internalized homophobia, messy friend group dynamics, ellie and reader can’t stand each other! sexual tension, denial, reader confusion about feelings and sexuality, jealousy, unrequited crushes, angst, fluff.
word count # 4.6k~
▸ next chapter
You hadn’t really thought much about Ellie growing up.
Not in any way that mattered, anyway. To you, she was just this loud, funny girl—reading comic books between classes, quoting lines from movies nobody else had seen, laughing at things that didn’t even seem funny. She moved through the same spaces you did simply because you knew the same people and had grown up together through the long, awkward years of middle and high school.
You were friends. Sure. But not the way you were friends with Dina, who knew every version of you because she was your best friend. And not the way you were friends with Jesse, who had always been Ellie’s person.
Ellie was just… another person in the mix.
At least, that’s what you told yourself.
There was never a moment where you thought about her too deeply. You didn’t wonder what she felt, or care why she laughed the way she did, or why she took up space so easily. She wasn’t someone you studied or really tried to understand.
Well... partly because when you’ve been stuck in the same large friend group since middle school, you learn a few things.
You learn that people blur when there are too many of them. Someone will always end up closer to someone else than the rest. And no one decides it. It just happens. You stop keeping track of who’s close to who, who talks to who more, who drifts. It doesn't matter, and honestly? It’s easier not to think about it.
But the thing is… even not choosing someone, in its own way, is still a choice.
That’s the part you hadn’t realized until years later, when Ellie—out of nowhere—decided to bother you. Of all people.
She went from being someone who was “just another person” to someone who could never leave you alone. And maybe you should have appreciated it, right?—because the person you barely noticed ends up meaning more than you expected. The kind of thing that changes what friendship even is.
But no. You didn’t. You couldn’t appreciate a single thing she did—not when she made it her mission to get under your skin every chance she got.
You remember the day she started… whatever this thing was.
It was seventh grade.
You were in the gym locker room when she “just happened” to knock over her water bottle, and the dark splash immediately spread across your neatly folded uniform.
You gasped lightly and froze, unsure whether to be furious or embarrassed.
All you heard was her low snort before she walked out without a word, leaving you there, eyes shifting from her to the mess, unable to say anything.
When you saw her again at Jesse’s house for a hangout with everyone else the following weekend, you never expected her to apologize.
You assumed she’d already forgotten the locker room incident—or didn’t care—so you let it slide. You didn’t hold a grudge exactly, but you had nothing to say to her either, and you certainly didn’t want to, especially after what happened.
You thought that was the first and the last, but oh, you were entirely wrong.
The next week, you were running late for class when she suddenly appeared out of nowhere and “bumped into you” in the hallway, sending your books flying. She crouched down—not to help—but to pick one up, flip through it, and hand it back with the pages bent, the cover half-closed, as if she’d lost interest halfway through.
And again, you were left standing there, dumbfounded. Why the hell did she do that? Your irritation pricked at the nerve of this girl.
By the end of seventh grade, she had managed to rile you with every stunt she pulled—whether it was dipping her brush into your palette instead of her own in art class, swirling your colors together until they looked like swamp water (and having the nerve to tell you it “looked better that way”), or getting you detention for a stink bomb she’d planned during one of your science experiments.
Eighth grade came fast after that.
By then, you’d started expecting the little chaos she brought into your life—but that didn’t make it any less annoying. Over time, you’d just learned to ignore her, roll your eyes, or pretend she wasn’t there, even as she somehow always appeared in the right place at the wrong time for you.
Even with everyone around, Ellie found ways to make it about you. The more things changed, the more you realized… she wasn’t just careless.
That year, though, was the first time she did something so cruel it actually hurt.
It was PE. You’d been stuck as goalie during practice, half-distracted because your eyes kept drifting to the guy Dina had mentioned who had a crush on you.
You didn’t even see it coming—Ellie’s kick sent the ball rocketing straight into your face. The pain hit first, followed by the warm trickle from your nose.
Before you could even register what happened, Ellie was already sprinting off, vanishing behind the equipment shed before your wrath could reach her. You knew she’d done it on purpose, and the flash of guilt on her face as she ran was the only thing that stopped you from chasing her down.
“Oh my god!” Dina and the others exclaimed as you held your bleeding nose, your head spinning from both the pain and the shock.
It was always like that with Ellie—petty accidents she could pass off as coincidences, stacking up until they simmered under your skin like a slow burn she seemed determined to keep alive.
Looking back, it was easier to brush off. You were kids, and half the time you thought she just didn’t know how to leave you alone.
By ninth grade, everything about you was changing.
You started experimenting with makeup, texting boys you barely knew but secretly liked, and swapping your usual jeans and tees for skirts and tops older girls seemed to pull off effortlessly. You’d even joined the cheer team, trading afternoons of free time for tumbling practice and memorizing routines.
And Ellie? She wasn’t that little rascal who pulled stunts on you anymore. She’d joined the basketball team, spending her afternoons shooting hoops with Alex and the others. That was good, you thought—she’d have other things to do than bother you.
Though, on the other hand, it was also bad news. Your ten-year-old baby brother, Luke—an angel, really—seemed to idolize her, and you had no fucking idea why.
“Can you please tell Ellie to come over? She said she’ll teach me how to play,” Luke asked one afternoon, eyes bright with excitement.
“Are you texting Ellie?” you called back, suspicious.
“Yes…” he grinned. “She said she’d show me a trick she learned.”
“And you just believed her?”
“Of course! She’s awesome!”
You shook your head. Ellie still managed to worm her way into your life, even through your little brother.
“Shouldn’t you be on a diet? Like you said yesterday?” she asked once, watching you take a bite of your food. You froze mid-chew, glaring at her. That conversation had been private, just between you and Chloe.
“Were you eavesdropping?” you asked, deliberately mean.
She just smirked, clearly waiting for the perfect moment—and picked a fry off your plate before leaving.
You watched her ruffle Luke’s hair, grab his small basketball, and lead him outside while the rest of the group lingered inside, a usual hangout.
You still couldn’t understand what her deal with you was. It wasn’t like you ever went looking for her attention—you didn’t. If anything, you kept your distance, made a point not to orbit anywhere near her. But Ellie always had a way of making sure you were never too far from hers.
She might not be knocking over your water bottles or tripping you in the halls anymore, but she still found ways to get under your skin. She’d turned to words—each one a little poke, a little push, never missing a chance.
You’d lost count of how many arguments you’d had by now. At some point, the rest of the group just… stopped trying. It was normal. If your voices started to rise, someone would sigh, mutter “here we go again,” and wander off, leaving you two to tear into each other until one of you stormed away.
“Ellie’s the older one, she should just apologize,” Dina said once during the ninth grade, when a sleepover devolved into a ridiculous fight about what movie to watch.
“What? Just because I’m older, I’m the one who has to apologize?” Ellie shot back.
You rolled your eyes, grabbed your bag, and went home that night.
You used to think time would fix it. That one day Ellie would grow out of you.
But two more years passed—and she didn’t.
It was early summer before senior year, and the whole group had rented out a beach house for the weekend. The air smelled like salt and sunscreen, and everyone was scattered between the pool and the porch when Chloe brought up the guy you liked.
“He didn’t text you back? Wow. The nerve.” Chloe pointed when you told her he never replied after asking for your number.
You were stretched out on a lounge chair, sipping a fruity drink, watching Dina and Jesse splash water at each other in the pool.
“Who didn’t text who back?” Ellie’s voice came from behind you. She walked over, wearing a tank top and board shorts, and grabbed a slice of watermelon from the table.
“Her crush,” Chloe answered.
“Really?” Ellie’s tone was mildly surprised, but when you glanced at her, she looked… amused.
“Something funny?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, your voice flat.
Ellie shrugged. “Nothing. It’s just—girls shouldn’t make the first move. You gotta wait.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes lazily.
“And if he didn’t reply, he’s not worth your time. He’s probably an asshole who only goes for hot girls anyway,” Ellie added, chewing.
Chloe tilted her head, pointing at you. “So you’re saying she’s not hot?”
Ellie choked on her food, coughing. You lifted your brows at her.
“He’s not a player like you, Ellie. Don’t compare him to you,” you said.
Ellie scoffed. “Me? A player? Since fucking when?”
You rolled your eyes again, not even wanting to answer that.
“And yeah, I’m definitely not like him—because if I were him, I would’ve texted you back.”
From the pool, Jesse let out an obnoxious, “Ooooh!”
“Stop it, Jesse. They’ll fight again,” Dina called over.
“Well, that’s because you’ll settle for anyone. You reply to every girl,” you said, taking another sip.
Ellie leaned forward, irritation flickering in her voice. “What—You’re not just anyone. I’d reply to you, obviously.”
“Of course, Ellie. But the person we’re talking about is someone I actually like. Not someone… like you,” you replied, your tone deliberate.
“What the hell does that mean?” Ellie muttered, gesturing with her hand.
Alex, lounging on the chair beside you, laughed. “You two don’t even have each other’s numbers, so no replying’s gonna happen.”
You shook your head as everyone laughed, the sound grating in your ears. Ellie muttered something under her breath before pushing herself off the railing and heading back inside the house, irritation written in the tight set of her shoulders.
After that summer, everything started to move too fast.
Senior year felt like a countdown clock. You were suddenly busy all the time—staying late for practice, trying to hold the squad together as captain, studying until your eyes burned for college entrance exams. Your world shrank into routines, pressure, and expectations.
There wasn’t space for anything else.
It was around November when you and Dina decided to head over to Jesse’s house so the squad could practice there.
As the car pulled into the driveway, you spotted Ellie and Jesse out front, hosing down one of the cars, laughing about something you couldn’t hear.
You weren’t in a good mood that day. Practice had been rough, the team wasn’t improving, and it felt like everything you worked for was slipping through your fingers.
“Oh my god, is that Ellie? She’s fucking hot,” Jessica said as she leaned forward in her seat.
You turned to her, eyebrows lifting, but she didn’t notice—already hopping out of the car with the others.
“Hi, girls!” Jesse called, flashing a grin.
Some of them giggled.
You climbed out last, juggling your duffel bag, shoes, and pink Stanley tumbler. You were wearing your short skirt, the sleeve of your top hanging off one shoulder.
Ellie watched you for a second too long before her gaze drifted away, unfocused, as she aimed the hose at the ground.
“Ellie,” Jesse called, noticing she was still holding it while you walked past.
You shook your head and jogged forward—until freezing water suddenly poured over you.
“Oh shit, Dina!” Jesse shouted toward the house.
You gasped, stumbling back, drenched. Your eyes flew to Ellie, who stared at you with a blank, unreadable expression.
“What the fuck…” you muttered, dropping your bag. You were about to lunge at her when Dina and Chloe grabbed your arms.
“What the hell is your problem?!” you shouted, livid, shaking as cold water dripped down your skin.
“Ellie, why did you do that?” Jesse asked, grabbing a towel from Alex.
“Aren’t you even gonna say sorry to me?!” you yelled, chest heaving.
“Dude, say sorry,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “She’s gonna hate you.”
Ellie finally met your eyes.
She shook her head slowly, her mouth twitching like she found something funny about all of this.
“I mean, what’s new?” she said, shrugging. “I don’t expect her to love me anyway.”
You swear that in that moment, you could’ve slapped her.
All your life, no one had ever made you feel like this—this tight, ugly pressure in your chest that only she could bring.
It was past three in the morning on a cold December when you woke from a dream of falling into a black abyss.
Lately, those dreams have been coming more often, and you don't know why.
Your room was quiet, save for the hum of the AC and Dina’s soft breathing, passed out drunk on your bed, Chloe beside her. Both were breathing softly after the night of celebrating your eighteenth birthday.
Everyone had gone an hour ago, and you’d only managed an hour of sleep.
Your throat burned from the alcohol you’d downed earlier before. You slipped quietly out of your room and padded into the kitchen, gulping water straight from the glass, when muffled voices drifted down from the rooftop that had to be from Jesse and Ellie.
Before going back to bed, you decided to check on them. With every step, their drunken laughter and voices grew louder, until you stopped just behind the door leading to the rooftop.
Ellie’s laugh cut through first, followed by words you couldn’t make out.
After what had happened that day, you hadn’t seen her much—not until your birthday yesterday. Dina had mentioned that Ellie was getting serious about getting drafted next year, so she’d been seriously busy.
Finally, that’s what you wanted in the first place, right? To finally be left alone?
“I don’t know, Jesse. She’s blind. She doesn’t realize I would do anything for her,” Ellie said, her voice soft, drunken, but surprisingly steady.
Your eyes slowly widened, heart suddenly hammering in your chest.
“Man… what? I'm so fuckin' wasted,” Jesse slurred.
You immediately went back to your room, head spinning with thoughts you couldn’t untangle. By the time you reached your door, the rooftop voices had faded, replaced by the soft hum of the AC.
You sank into your vanity chair and stared at the little pink package. You hadn’t even touched it before—didn’t expect to. Ellie? She hadn’t given a damn the past couple years, not since your sweet sixteen. And you didn’t care either.
But now… holding it, looking at it, you weren’t so sure anymore.
You untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside rested a bracelet, delicate but unmistakably expensive. The metal caught the warm glow of your bedside lamp, and the tiny rock embedded in the center glistened like a shard of sunlight caught in amber.
Your fingers lingered on the bracelet, feeling strange. Because for the first time in years, the hate, the annoyance, the resentment, and everything she made you feel—they tangled with something else, something sharp and unfamiliar, something you didn’t want to name.
You put it back immediately, staring at the ceiling for a moment before forcing yourself under the covers. Sleep wouldn’t come easily, but you needed it—you couldn’t let yourself sit with these emotions, not tonight, not ever.
The next morning, you were the only one left in your room. After a quick round of morning routines, you padded downstairs, hearing Dina’s voice and your little brother’s giggles in the dining room.
“Morning,” Dina greeted, balancing a forkful of pancakes with a pile of leftovers from last night.
“Morning,” you replied, ruffling your brother’s messy hair. He was glued to his iPad at the table.
“Morning, baby,” you said, and he gave you a bright smile in return.
Alex was half-asleep, spooning cereal into his mouth, and you glanced around for Chloe.
“She’ll be back later,” Dina said, reading your mind.
You frowned. “Jesse and Ellie?”
Dina just gestured toward the living room. That’s where you found Ellie, sprawled on the couch in deep sleep, and Jesse sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes glued to the TV while casually snacking.
“Did you two sleep here? I… left the guest rooms open last night,” you asked Jesse, your gaze drifting back to Ellie.
“Oh yeah, we were too drunk last night,” Jesse said, not taking his eyes off the screen.
Not long after, the house slowly came back to life. One by one, everyone started grabbing their things, making plans for later, reminding each other about the New Year’s party you were all coming back for that night.
“Happy birthday again, babe. I’ll see you later,” Dina said, pulling you into a tight hug. You smiled and held on a second longer before letting her go.
“I should wake this asshole,” Jesse muttered, glancing at the couch.
He walked over and gave Ellie’s shoulder a rough shake. She groaned, barely moving.
“Get up,” he laughed. “We’re leaving.”
She didn’t respond—so Jesse grabbed her hand and tugged.
It wasn’t long before Ellie kicked out blindly, muttering a curse under her breath as Jesse yelped and bolted away, laughing.
“Let’s go!” he called from the doorway.
Ellie rubbed at her eyes, hair a complete mess, blinking like she was still half-dreaming. Then her gaze lifted—and found you.
You were standing there, frozen for a second, just looking at her while she stared back. Her eyes were tired, dark circles faint beneath them, something quiet and unreadable sitting in her expression.
For a moment, you thought about saying something. Anything.
But you didn’t.
You turned away instead, heading back toward the dining room, your chest feeling strangely tight as you reached for a glass of water.
Fuck—since when did you ever feel awkward around her?
You told yourself it was nothing. Just exhaustion. A hangover. The weird weight of staying up too late and hearing things you probably misunderstood. That was all.
You took a long sip, staring at the counter like it could ground you. You’d dealt with Ellie for years without flinching—without ever caring—so why should this morning be any different?
It wasn’t.
That’s what you kept telling yourself all morning, and all the way into the evening—right up until you were standing in the middle of a house party filled with music, bodies, and the sharp smell of cheap alcohol for New Year’s.
You nearly gagged right there on the sticky floor when you saw it.
Ellie. Kissing someone else.
Dina didn’t even realize you’d stopped in your tracks, frozen on the dance floor with your heart hammering against the bass. Your eyes were locked on Ellie, pressed close to some girl in the shadowed corner, her hands resting at the girl’s waist, drunk to the taste of her.
And you stood there, wondering when exactly nothing had started to feel like this.
“Babe, let’s go, they’re over there,” Dina said, tugging on your hand and pulling you toward the sofa where everyone else had gathered.
You swallowed, forcing your eyes away, letting that heavy pit in your stomach settle deeper.
“Birthday girl!” Jesse shouted as he jumped up and wrapped you in a quick, too-tight hug. You returned it automatically, forcing a smile even though you felt the color drain from your face.
“Are you drunk? We just got here!,” Dina said, sliding beside Chloe, who was already deep in conversation with some guy you didn’t recognize.
You sank down next to her, letting the noise blur together—laughter, music, someone shouting from the kitchen—anything but your own thoughts.
“I’m not drunk,” Jesse protested, though the red creeping up his ears told a different story. “—Have you seen Ellie? Where the hell is she? My phone was with her.”
Dina crossed her arms, smirking. “She’s over there… making out with some chick.”
The words hit harder than you expected, even though you’d already seen it with your own two eyes.
Alex, Maxine, and Rafael showed up soon after, Jesse still rambling while Dina kept shutting him down. You stayed quiet, not really wanting to talk.
Someone suggested a card game, and before you knew it, you were all crammed around the table, the lights dimmed, music turned down just enough to hear the arguments.
“I don't want to be paired with Alex, she’s a rat,” Jesse complained.
“Fuck you, dude. You look like a rat,” Alex shot back, flipping him off.
Laughter broke out.
Then a voice cut through it.
“What are we playing?”
Ellie.
She stepped into the circle like she’d always been there, dropping into the seat across from you.
Black graphic tee, worn jeans, her tattoo peeking as her elbows rested on her knees, legs spread casually like she owned the space.
Her eyes flicked to you.
You looked away.
“You’ve got a smudge,” Dina said, tapping her own lips.
Ellie wiped at her mouth, then glanced back at you, like she was trying to catch your eyes again.
You looked away, focusing on the cards in the middle of the table, on anything that wasn’t the faint echo of Dina’s words still ringing in your head.
Time blurred after that. Music thumped through the walls, laughter and shouts bouncing around the room, and the air felt thicker with every passing minute. Someone nudged another, and another, and before you knew it, a ridiculous suggestion floated across the group: Seven Minutes in Heaven.
And of course—of course—it was you and Ellie.
You tried to protest, rolling your eyes, but the group’s chaos swallowed every objection. Chairs scraped across the floor, hands grabbed at your arms, and you were shoved forward, cursing under your breath.
Ellie flipped Jesse off as he gestured, You’re dead, Williams, and somehow she looked way too thrilled about it. You could only glare at her.
What a fucking joke. Ending the year like this, pressed together with the one person you’d been trying not to look at all night. It was absurd. Humiliating. And exactly the kind of situation she always managed to drag you into.
Your mouth fell open when the door was yanked wide.
It was tiny.
Barely enough room for two people to stand face-to-face—no space to turn, no space to breathe.
“Fuck,” you muttered as someone shoved you inside. Your face collided with hanging coats, fabric brushing your cheeks. A second later Ellie was pushed in behind you, and the door slammed shut.
The sound echoed like a verdict.
You turned.
Her face was right there.
Too close.
Your breath hitched, lungs working harder than they should. You stared at each other for half a second too long—her eyes flicking to your lips before you snapped out of it and shoved her aside.
She stumbled back with a grunt, then laughed under her breath as you hugged the corner, sitting on the floor, knees pulled tight to your chest, trying to shrink into yourself. Your legs pressed against the rough texture of her jeans beside you.
Ellie dropped down across from you, back against the wall, legs stretched out.
“I’m gonna die here, I swear,” you muttered.
Ellie tilted her head, smirking. “Relax, princess. You’ve survived worse than me.”
You shot her a glare. “This is your fault.”
She scoffed. “Really? Last time I checked, you chose to join the game.”
You narrowed your eyes. “If I die from suffocating, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.”
Ellie’s grin widened. “That’s hot.”
You rolled your eyes painfully, shaking your head. “Do you know how suffocating this is? I can’t breathe, I can’t—”
“You could breathe if you stopped whining,” she interrupted. “Or you could sit on my lap, whatever you prefer.”
“What?!” You exclaimed, scandalized.
Ellie raised her brows, clearly enjoying this. “You want more space? You know that’s the only way.”
You let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, in your dreams.”
“Already there,” she said easily.
You shifted as much as the cramped closet allowed, trying to press yourself into the corner, your legs brushing against hers. Every breath felt too loud, every small movement too close.
“Move,” you said, trying to push her legs aside. “You’re in my space.”
She laughed softly. “There is no space.”
For a second, neither of you spoke. The music thudded through the door, someone laughing on the other side, the world still going while you were trapped in here with her.
Ellie’s voice dropped. “You always push me away like that.”
You turned to her, expression mean. “Because you never leave me alone.”
“You never tell me to stop.”
You scoffed, shaking your head. “We both know that’s not true. Get over yourself, Williams.”
Ellie’s jaw moved as she stared at you, expression unreadable, before she shrugged lazily. “You’re still here. That definitely says something.”
You laughed bitterly, low and sharp. “Says what? That I’m stuck with you?” You asked, voice thick with sarcasm.
“Maybe. Or maybe it says you want to be.”
“You’re aware how I feel about you, Ellie. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
Ellie leaned back slightly, arms crossed. “You could leave if you wanted. If you hate me that much… why don’t you just go?” Her tone was casual, sarcastic, daring, like she knew exactly how much this got under your skin.
You stayed silent, glaring at her, heart hammering, trying to shove down the confusing heat, the tension, and that familiar anger that had been building in your chest for years—at her, at yourself, at everything.
“I don’t understand you at all,” you finally said, voice low, trembling slightly despite your effort to stay composed.
You turned to her, expecting some kind of answer, but she stayed silent, her gaze steady, unreadable.
“Aren’t you even going to answer me?” you demanded, voice rising a fraction.
“Why…” Your hands clenched in your lap. “Why are you like this? It’s been what—since we were fourteen? Fifteen? I don’t do anything to you, I don’t bother you, I barely even talk to you… so why? Why do you keep doing this?”
She let out a long, slow sigh, a sigh that seemed to carry years of weight, and finally said, quietly, almost reluctantly:
