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seattlesellie · 10 months

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soccer!ellie x cheerleader!reader headcannons (sfw+nsfw) ⚽️💗 18+

this has been on my mind a lot.

ᥫ᭡ first of all, lets make it clear. ellie is a forward, and an attacking midfielder. when it comes to playing, ellie's a game maker. she's calculated, and knows exactly what she's doing. often times, you could catch her pacing around the midfield in what may seem like an aimless strut, but if you really look at her, you would notice those brain gears turning, she's thinking ahead. it's as if she gets inside her opponents brains and studies them. she knows exactly what their next move will be, and when the balls in-between her legs, her kicks are precise and calculated. while everybody else is chasing the ball, ellie already knows how to score the next goal, and a minute later? she does. oh— and it's her third one in the game already.

ᥫ᭡ when ellie scores, she can get a little cocky, but it took her some time and practice to get this comfortable. when she scored the first goal on her very first college game, she stood frozen in front of the goalie. her eyes narrowed in confusion, “did i…?”— and in a matter of exactly five seconds, her teammates were all over her. dragging her across the field, picking her up and cheering her on. ellie was so exultant and excited she swore she stopped breathing for a moment.

ᥫ᭡ now? when ellie scores... yeah, she knows exactly what she's worth. she points her finger to her ear, signals at the audience; "let me hear you", and nods her head when the chanting gets louder. when they shout; "williams! williams! williams!" her ego inflates in her chest, and she almost feels like a god— albeit, she's not annoying about it. it's just fun when people scream her name, you know?

ᥫ᭡ sometimes, ellie spots a cutie in the audience and hands her her sweat drenched tee with a shy smile. speaking of tee? her kit is a black shirt with blue stripes, and a royal blue, golden crown symbol. her nike socks are pulled up to her ankles, and when she jacks up her shirt to wipe some sweat off her sheeny forehead, she reveals her mouth watering abs, and a firm v line right on her lower abdomen. no wonder girls swoon over her, and no wonder she likes it.

ᥫ᭡ when ellie saw you in the audience, the last thing on her mind was handing you her tee. honestly, what she wanted to do was hide under a bench and bite the ball between her teeth. you made her too nervous, what could she say? you weren't just a cutie in the audience, you were drop dead gorgeous, you wore that cheerleading outfit and you cheered for her— well, for her team, and for some reason she couldn't quite recognize, you paid her no mind. you were the only one who didn't flash her flirty, playful smiles after the won a big game, and you were the only one who made her heart feel like it was dropping right to her pants.

ᥫ᭡ after scoring three goals, she finally spotted you. you had your pom pom's in your hands, and you were talking to two of your friends. after you noticed she was looking, practically staring, you raised her a small, shy smile, and her breath quickened. right when she waved at you, you turned around. then— she pretended to wave at someone else. that, led her blush to creep down to her chest. she fumbled the ball twice, almost tripped on her shoelaces and received one yellow card, that turned into two yellow cards— when she decided that arguing with the referee wouldn't be a stupid decision.

ᥫ᭡ ellie has access to her teams instagram account, so she stalks you from there. obviously, she doesn't follow you on her personal account because at the end of the day she's a terrified loser, hence why she's right here, at 9pm, on her best friends bed, logged on to the jackson's tigers. she comes across a picture of you from december. she groaned at how pretty you are, dropped her phone right on her forehead and... double tapped. "oh fuckfuckfuckfuck" "fucking hate this fucking phone... DINA! HELP" ᥫ᭡ when you asked her teammate about it the next day, ellie was near, and she turned her head to the other direction so swiftly her neck almost cracked. then, that night, she concluded that the smartest thing to do was to spam like all of the jacksons tigers cheerleaders posts and comment "out favorite cheerleaders!" on one of your pictures from practice.

you were so freaking confused.

ellie thought she was a genius.

ᥫ᭡ clearly, ellie talks about you with her teammates. she talks about you so much they practically call her a “fucking idiot” for not asking you out already. it always begins with “that one cheerleader…” and then, they immediately roll their eyes, because they know who she’s talking about, and for some reason— she refuses to use your name. she says it's because she doesn't remember it. they think it's because she's a loser. “one cheerleader”, as if there were truly any others on her mind.

ᥫ᭡ when she asked you out for the first time, it was right after a game. a 6:1 game. she felt so triumphant and the adrenaline rushed through her veins, it was almost a given. she was going to ask you out. today. right now. she walked over, fanning herself with her tee, absentmindedly flashing her abs, you looked at her and smiled so softly she felt as if she was going to choke. “good game, williams” you bubbled, and now, what fucking game and who’s fucking williams? so flustered, all she wanted to do was join the water polo team and drown herself in the pool. “hey… you want my shirt?” she muttered, could you tell she was breathless?. right, her shirt, this is the move.

“for…?” you responded, tilting your head.

she stammered, and toyed with the hem of her tee. “for um…” for? for? for? “for the…” she huffed, scratching her neck.

“for our date?”

ᥫ᭡ for your first date, she took you out for milkshakes. although they were two dollars each, she insisted on paying and nearly dropped her wallet on the floor. "no, really, let me… please?", and who could say no to that? you two practically talked about nothing and everything at the same time. she teased you about being a cheerleader; "all you do is jump around" (she knew it wasn't true, she just wanted to see how cute you'd get when you're pissed) and somehow, you weren't pissed. you responded with a grin.

"and all you do is run around and chase the ball like a dog"

ᥫ᭡ she truly felt like if she didn't kiss you right now she might die, so she did. she crawled under the booth like an idiot, and sat directly next to you. her eyes darted form your lips to your eyes, to your lips again.

"are you gonna ki—"

ᥫ᭡ the next moment you knew, her hand was on the back of your neck, and her lips crashed into yours. when she pulled away, cheeks flushed and lips still parted, she whispered a breathy "yeah, gonna kiss you".

after that night? you two were inseparable, glued by the hip.

ᥫ᭡ ellie gets incredibly in her head before games. she's slightly anxiety ridden, paces in fast circles around the room just huffing under her breath about different strategies, and what her opponents will do. "if i get a penalty kick..." she begins, and she looks so angry and pouty you have a feeling that you know exactly what's gonna help. the best remedy to her nerves? you. it's as if a comically large lightbulb appears over your head. "wait, what's a panel kick?" you question, tilting your head. you give her this pout, like you're stupid— but you know exactly what a penalty is, you've been to about ten games already. she chuckles softly under her breath and shifts her body towards you. "penalty, babe, it's penalty kick" then, you ask her to explain. she sits down on the bed, pats her thigh and signals you to sit on her lap. when you do, it begins. all she does is elliesplain soccer to you, and suddenly all of her nerves are gone. she doesn't know what you're doing, or maybe she does, but truly, she doesn't mind. your touch light as a feather, you caress her arm as she rambles on and on, and at one point— you're not even listening. you fully are just staring into her eyes, focusing on making her feel good. you get off from her lap, and signal her to place her head on your thighs. "keep going, els" you softly hum. "and then... on that one game, messi and ronaldo, like—“ then, she yawns, and her voice has that sweet, lazy raspiness to it, gets breathier and softer. she dozes off right on your thigh. when she wakes up, she huffs a small "thank you", and you know it's sincere. she kisses your jaw, gently holds your wrist, brings it up to her chaste lips, and pecks it softly. "you're too cute, you know that?"

ᥫ᭡ once you two started dating, you no longer felt like the teams cheerleader, you felt like you were ellie's, and ellie's only. obviously, you dont make it clear to them, but when you cheer— you keep your eyes glued on her. you sneak extra glances, and sweet smiles just for ellie. when the chant ends with a "go team!" you mouth her a small "go... ellie" and to that, she grins, and cocks her head.

you give ellie her final hug, before she has to go on the field. "go ellie?" she whispers in your ear. "yeah" you bite your lip, swallowing a giggle, and her hand pinches your waist. "oh yeah?", and it's so raspy and teasing that it makes your knees nearly give up on you. "good luck, williams" you kiss her on the cheek, but she tsk's, grabs your jaw and kisses you hard, in front of everybody.

"don't need luck when you're right here"

ᥫ᭡ when ellie scores, she dedicates the goal to you. she’s scanning the audience, and when she finds you, jumping up and down, clapping your hands and screaming her name, she points at you, and only at you. "this one's for you" she mouths. truthfully? all of them are. as soon as the game ends, her teams all over her. picking her up, carrying her around— that's until she spots you, sucking on your bottom lip and smiling so big it's making her heart practically melt. "wait a sec, guys..." she walks off, and when they groan, she shrugs; "gotta say hi to my girlf—" before she even finishes her sentence, you're jumping in her arms. she picks you up, spins you around and giggles so loud even her teammates can't help but join in. "you're my fucking champion, ellie" you praise, looking deep into her eyes.

"you're my champion" she won. and yet, you still are.

"but you won!!" you argue, fuck— your heads starting to spin.

"only won cause you’re here, only fucking reason" and maybe, it is.

ᥫ᭡ you made her a good luck charm bracelet, and decorated it with blue, black, golden beads. she wears it on her her left wrist, to every single game. she doesn't exactly believe in luck, but she believes in you, and she believes that somehow, every game she won was because of that charm.

nsfw 💗:

ᥫ᭡ the no sex before a big game policy her coach had forced upon the team popped like a little bubble when you two met. one time, one of her friends talked about it with you. you had no idea that was even a thing. the only sentence she said afterwards, was "if coach finds out, she's toast" oh.

ᥫ᭡ one thing about ellie is that she's obsessed with fucking you in your cheerleading outfit. makes you do a little spin, and then takes your top off. when it comes to the skirt? "leave it on, babe". she thinks it has to be a kink or something, because when she watches you cheer, your skirt slightly hiking up and revealing a little of your upper thigh, she loses her mind. she has to bite on her tongue and her face goes all red, you’re killing her— did you know that?

she's sat comfortably on the bed, dressed in her grey sweats and sports bra, whilst you demonstrate your cute little dance. "first, i have to kick my leg up" — and when you do, your panties poke through and she has to swallow hard. "yeah? what else" she places her palms on her thighs, spreads them, and keeps her eyes glued on your body. "then... a little spin" you twirl, and the air lifts your skirt up. to that, she mutters a curse word under her breath.

"do that again"

"ellie…” you whine, and before she has time to respond, you just do it again.

she nods her head up and down. "take your panties off"

you don't listen, do you? deciding on giving her that bratty attitude, she tells you again. "i said... take those panties off"

you stand in front of her, lifting your brow. she gets on her knees, places a soft kiss on your inner thigh, pats it lightly, takes them off for you and stuffs them in her pocket.

"now, do that spin again"

ᥫ᭡ when you take her strap while wearing your skirt, she truly goes crazy. makes you bounce on it as the fabric flaps around, fully just teasing her, and she's just as close to cumming as you are. "fuck! mmmph-ellie!" you wail, incoherently so, and it sounds like pure gibberish. "again, say my name again" she hisses, and now— she's practically fucking it into you, rolling her hips so you don't even have to move a muscle. the only thing you do, is spread your puffy folds open for her, hiking up your skirt so she gets a good view of your pussy and your erect little clit, pumping just for her. "i said... fuck— again" "ellie!" you gasp, and the look on her face is a look of pure bliss, of pure smugness, cocky satisfaction. "that's it…”

ᥫ᭡ when she has a big game coming up, truthfully, so do you. cheering might not be as intense, and it's not a damn competition, but you work just as hard. which is why... she makes you chant those cheering athems while she's inside of you. maybe, it'll make you remember them better.

"what comes next, huh?" she croaks, circling your clit with her thumb whilst deliciously splitting you open with her strap. "then its... it's... oh— ellie" you sob, clenching around her as if she might run away if you won't. "it's...?" she teases, and takes your cheeks between her fingers. "it's... go t—t—team" you whimper, squeaking like a dog's chew toy. "i dont think that's quite right" she manages to keep her voice steady, but her movements are anything but. she's panting, and encourages you on. "c'mon— gotta remember it f'me, you can do it" she grunts, gives your ass a little slap that makes you squirm. she grabs the fat between her palms, and nods her head. you can truly do it, you know you can. "it's... it's go el— go ellie" with the sound of her name, she fastens her pace, both inside of your achy cunt, and right on your clit. "el— el— gonna c—cu!" you cry out, holding on to her wrist while she hovers on top. "you're gonna what?" now, her voice is just as unsteady, with the base of the strap hitting her puffy, wet clit. "c—cum" when you manage to cry, it washes over you, mind boggling, makes your entire body jolt till you're shaking beneath her. she helps you ride it out,

"take it— fuck— take what's yours, take it.”

“that's my girl"

ᥫ᭡ anyways, ellie is obsessed with the way her name sounds as it leaves your mouth. obsessed with hearing you scream it, whimper it, whine it, obsessed when it comes out shaky, and obsessed when it's crystal clear. her favorite one though? "go... ellie!"

ᥫ᭡ if she loses a game... oh, what a sore loser. she puts the blame entirely on herself, especially with her new role as the teams captain. but oh, how lucky she is, to have such a considerate girlfriend. when you two got home from the game, you laid on the bed. she gave your hand a little squeeze;

"gonna shower" and she lifts her body or of the mattress. “dont wait up, babe— go to sleep"

she opens the bathroom door, and the water start streaming. you really won't go to sleep though, would you? what you do instead, oh...

you go through her bag, aimlessly looking for something... something, that will make her feel better. something that will show her she's the boss, whether she loses or wins.

her tee. "WILLIAMS" on the back, with the number "7" right below. you can't help but chuckle, grin— even, and do a little dance before you put it on. it's sweaty, damp, but you don't seem mind. you take off your shirt, your bra and your panties, and you wear it. it smells like her and it caresses right over your nipples, you almost have to stop from being so nasty and touching yourself with whilst she's showering. you're wearing her tee, her name— williams— you're hers. williams fucking girl. you sit pretty on the bed, legs wide open, and you wait. you wait and you wait and you wait— till you no longer hear the water streaming. she opens the door, and if your heart skipped a beat, ellie was pure having heart palpitations. she groaned loudly, and you almost felt the air she let out on your skin. "what is... what—“ she moves closer, and her eyes look hungry, ravenous.

"m'showing you.." you purr, in an attempt to hide the nervousness in your voice. you turn around, on all fours, purposely flashing her your ass and your cunt when the tee rides up. you point at your back. "who i belong to...”

ellie's never moved so quickly in her life, not even when she's chasing the ball. she yanks you by the tee, and pulls you closer to her chest. "yeah?" she whispers, as if she doesn't already know the answer. she nibbles on your neck, and you whimper.

"all yours... captain"

oh fuck.

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