𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝘃𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲:

omg sorry if i explote ur inbox, its just- i have so many ideas and love ur writing

queen it's ok!! You can send as many as you'd like😭✋🏼 I love your requests

your best friend- ellie williams x reader

no one requested this lol, i just liked the song... do yall want me to make a spotify playlist off all the songs i've written about?

This story is based off the song your best friend by Kiana Lede, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

requests are open, send me your thoughts:)

Warnings: emotional cheating

Summary: in which you wished ellie wasn't dating your best friend

Masterlist

Ellie never planned to fall in love with you.

She always said your laugh was addictive. Always told Dina that you were “a good one” — loyal, grounded, funny. The kind of person who didn’t start shit, who didn’t push boundaries.

But that’s the problem, isn’t it?

You didn’t push the boundary.

Ellie did. And you let her.

It started with late-night walks through Jackson. Dina would stay behind to clean up or rest from patrol. You and Ellie would wander, shoulders brushing, voices soft, dancing around the things you never said.

It continued with touches that lingered — a hand at your waist that stayed too long. A look that lasted one second too much. Her compliments growing too precise. Yours returning just as sharp.

You told yourself: I would never betray her.

And Ellie told herself: I would never act on it.

But both of you were liars.

One night, while Dina slept upstairs, you and Ellie were in the kitchen, whispering about dumb shit, faces inches apart. You’d just said something funny, and she laughed — full and rare — and then she looked at you like she wanted to ruin everything. You saw it coming.

You didn’t stop it.

The kiss was slow, scared — like both of you knew you’d just ripped something open you couldn’t close.

“I’m sorry,” Ellie whispered, lips still brushing yours.

“No, you’re not.”

And you were right.

Guilt became your second skin.

You smiled in front of Dina. You helped her chop vegetables for dinner, listened to her talk about the new recruits, helped her clean out the horse stables.

But you couldn’t stop thinking about Ellie’s hands under your shirt two nights ago, the way she kept saying “fuck, I shouldn’t” while she didn’t stop.

You weren’t proud. But god, it felt real.

You hated yourself for loving it.

One evening, after too much whiskey, Ellie sat on your porch with red eyes.

“I can’t lie to her forever.”

“Then don’t,” you said. “End it. Or stop this.”

Ellie looked at you, jaw tight. “I don’t know how to stop.”

You both sat there in silence. You didn’t know either.

Dina found out in spring.

You never knew how much Ellie told her, but the fallout was brutal. Dina slammed the front door, threw Ellie’s jacket across the porch, and didn’t speak to you for a month.

Ellie moved out of their house.

She stayed in one of the abandoned cabins by the trees, didn’t talk to anyone for days.

You visited once, stood outside her door. “Ellie, say something.”

“I’m a fucking coward,” came her voice. “Don’t come back.”

You left.

But you didn’t stop loving her.

Time passed.

The pain dulled, but it never left. People stopped looking at you like you were contagious. Dina started laughing again, even made peace with you one afternoon when she found you alone by the stables.

“I’m not ready to forgive you,” she said. “But I know you loved her. That’s worse.”

You nodded. Because it was true.

Ellie stayed distant for months.

Then one day, you found a note slipped under your door.

“I’m still in love with you.

-E"

You found her at the lake, sitting on the edge of the dock, legs dangling in the water.

She didn’t look at you as you sat beside her.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she said quietly.

“I almost didn’t,” you replied. “But I never stopped loving you either.”

She finally turned to face you — eyes green and heavy with regret.

“I ruined everything,” Ellie said.

“You broke her heart,” you agreed. “And mine. But I let you.”

Silence again.

Then: “Do you think we can try again? For real this time?”

You breathed out slowly. “Only if we stop lying. To everyone. To ourselves.”

Ellie nodded. “I want to love you right this time.”

It wasn’t perfect.

People judged. Dina kept her distance. Some friendships faded. But you and Ellie stood in it — the mess, the guilt, the consequences.

You built something real from the wreckage.

The touches became open. The glances weren’t stolen. Her hand on yours at the bar felt proud now. You kissed in daylight.

Sometimes, she still looked sad — when she remembered what she lost. What she broke.

But when she looked at you, there was love. Raw, honest, painful — but whole.

One night, in your shared bed, she whispered, “You’re not her best friend anymore.”

You smiled, touched her jaw. “No. I’m yours.”

I’m not sure if you do horror but can you do a horror one like scream themed or any horror movie

Scream for me - part 1 (ellie williams x reader)

This will be a three part series, part two will be released soon!

Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

Requests are always open feel free to leave one!

Warnings: murder, stalking, mentions of violence, body mutilation

Summary: Not killing the pretty girl was the best mistake she ever made

(if you want me to add you to a tag list just leave a comment and I'll add you)

Fuck

Why was she standing still? Why wasn’t she moving? Why was she hesitating?

Everyone in Jackson was terrified. The brutal murders happening around town might be the reason for that.

The first victim a beautiful blonde girl; Jamie Smith was found on a cold Saturday morning. Head decapitated, with over 20 stab wounds. No one knew why someone would kill such an innocent girl. After the first murder a second victim appeared: Jacob Hill. His genitalia mutilated, his tongue missing and once again over 20 stab wounds. And soon another victim then another and another. And soon the death count went from 2 to over 15 people. No one was safe. Whoever this murderer was, was thirsty for blood. And she’d kill anyone to quenched that thirst.

But here she stood over you sleeping body.

Why wasn’t she attacking you? In all honesty she doesn’t know. She doesn’t fucking know who you were. But that’s the thing she never knew her victims. It makes killing easier.

 But why couldn’t she hurt you?

She ruthless, borderline satanic. But yet as she looked at you while you slept she felt her dark thoughts go silent.  You were pretty. The face of an angel. The face of pure innocence. She couldn’t harm such a pretty thing like you.

So the famous Ghostface (that’s what everyone calls this murderer) went home. And she questioned herself.

Why didn’t she fucking kill you?

She removed her mask, the autumn brown hair falling out of the loose bun she placed it in.

“stupid fucking hair” Ellie muttered out of frustration. Her hair was so fucking short she couldn’t even tie a proper ponytail. She quickly removed the gloves, and placed her favorite knife back in it’s case. She swiftly removed the all black outfit she wore, and she was left in red boxers and a black sports bra. Ellie laid down on her bed, and she let out a sigh.

She didn’t kill anyone tonight. That was weird. She always kills people when she goes out. Her not killing you ruined her current killing streak.

“Fuck” she muttered and closed her eyes trying to fall asleep. The more she tried the less the felt sleepy. Her thoughts consumed her. With her past victims, Joel, the police and you.

 Who were you?

Ellie had to know. Even if it fucking kills her.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Ellie waited. She waited for the alarm to sound.

Since the killings, Jackson has had a curfew. Everyone should be in the house before night fall, doors locked. Everyone was terrified. No one could figure out who Ghostface was. A question many asked because they hated living in fear. But Ellie liked it. She liked having people scared of her. She liked knowing the reason people were forced to stay inside was because of her. She got a sick kick out of it.

The alarm sounded and she waited for one hour, because the police patrol that one hour hoping to catch her. No one can. No one will.

At exactly 11:00pm Ellie went out. Not to kill. But to find out who that pretty girl was. She knew she couldn’t kill you. The way her body reacted at the sight of you made it impossible. But she needed to know who you were.

It didn’t take long for Ellie to find your house again. Your curtains closed and windows locked. 

“Fuck” she muttered under her breathe when she couldn’t get in “fuck you pretty girl” she cursed. Ellie ran to the other side of the house and she thanked the gods that there was a window open.

She squeezed through the small window, “shit” she cursed out loudly when she felt her foot land in cold water. She landed in the toilet cringing at how it made her socks feel. She quickly got out not caring if she made your floor wet and she went back to the bedroom.

When she entered she was hit with a strong vanilla smell she thought she could faint at how strong the smell is. “jesus fucking christ” she cursed. And she stood there, trying to get used to the smell.

And that’s when she saw once again you lay there sleeping. Blissfully unaware that Ghostface was standing above you for the second time. You looked peaceful, it looked like you didn’t have a worry in the world but your messy room said otherwise. Clothes everywhere, books scattered across the floor.

“She’s probably in college” Ellie thought when she saw all the texts books.

 pretty and smart. Her favorite.

Her eyes landed on a wall filled with polaroid’s. Her mouth fell agape when she saw you. Awake. You were even prettier than she imagined. She was mesmerized by you. Her thoughts were quickly disturbed when she saw a picture of you and a girl. Ellie frowned.

Who was she?  Why were you with her? Why do you look so happy? She was going to fucking kill-

‘Woah Ellie calm down’ she thought to herself. She didn’t even know your fucking name.

She quickly grabbed the polaroid of you smiling. You wore a blue and white sundress, you looked beautiful. She smiled down at the picture, stuffing it into her pocket.

She made a quick mental note of that girl she saw in the picture with you. Ellie was going to find her. She was going to know who the fuck that girl was.

 She stayed in your room. The entire night. She watched you sleep, she cleaned up a little and she left with the polaroid.

In the days to come Ellie has gone insane. Every time she went out to kill some, she took that polaroid with her. That fucking picture of the pretty girl who’s name she doesn’t know. Every time she stabbed someone, every time the blade pierced someone’s skin she imagined you whispering;

“do it again” “kill them”

She doesn’t even know what you sound like, but fuck the way she imagines it has her dripping. She hoped to hear your voice one day.

She kissed that picture every time she went out, she slept with it under her pillow. She had it in her pocket 24/7.

And in the passing nights, she went back to your house every time. She watched you sleep, she cleaned up a little, she got mad at that picture of you and that girl who she still hasn’t found. You’ve consumed her life and she doesn’t even fucking know your name.

Tonight was like no other for Ellie, she murdered an old man. She did her classic 20 stab wound method then she set him on fire. It was something new. Something entertaining. This will definitely get a kick out of the community she thought. She went home and showered trying to clean off all the blood so that she doesn’t get your room messy. She kissed the polaroid, put it into her pocket and she left.

She left to you. Once again she hopped through the bathroom window. And she ran straight to your room, as she cleaned she accidently knocked the lamp off your bedside table. And she heard a whimper from behind her.

‘Fuck” she breathed. She slowly turned around to see you sitting, knees to your chin, fear in your eyes. This was the first time Ellie is seeing you awake, and she wanted to do nothing more but to grab you and kiss you.

“Who are you?” the pretty girl whispered

What the fuck was Ellie going to do?

part 2

Authors note: sorry for just disappearing, I was in a really bad space mentally, but I’m back now! I hope you enjoyed, and trust me this story is going to get darker in the next part. Remember to always be kind! Requests are always open, feel free to leave one! And if you wanna be in the tag list just leave a comment !

Yours truly,

Zia <3

What about Ellie taking readers first kiss?!?🤭 very nervous reader?? anxious somewhat but also super excitedd

Frostbite - (ellie williams x reader)

Hi anon!! i did it a little differently from your request, i hope you don't mind. I could not stop writing this, i might make a part 2 to this... I hope you enjoy <333

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts

Warning: none

Summary: in which you shared a special moment with her

authors note: did i mention Christmas in this because I'm excited for December? yes.

masterlist

Jackson was covered in thick layer of snow. Everyone was wearing puffer jackets, mittens and beanies hoping that the cold air wouldn't affect them. You walked down the street seeing how people were hanging Christmas lights, and how the children stared at everything in awe. The children made snowmen, and you knew that soon the town would be buzzing with people as they started to buy gifts for their families.

As beautiful as the holidays were, you hated it. Every year you'd end up alone in your house, listening to carols being sang. You're be filled with a emptiness that you can't explain.

You missed your family every year. You'd always imagine the type of life you'd be living if the outbreak never happened.

You sat in the local garden, shivering slightly when the cool breeze blew past you.

"There you are, i was looking for you"

you turned your head to that voice.

Her voice.

Ellie Williams.

You rolled your eyes "you need to stop looking for me"

"i missed you though" she pouted

You hated when she did this.

When she'd come after you with nice words, pretending like she cared.

Maybe she did and you didn't believe her. At this point you don't know how to feel.

When Ellie first arrived in Jackson the two of you were inseparable.

"We were bound to be friends" she'd always say.

Sleepovers, makeovers, baking, watching old movies, you did everything together.

But the older the two of you grew, things became different.

You both got new friends, new interests. You used to spend every waking second of the day together, now the two of you only awkwardly said hi when you saw each other in public.

You both had reasons for the sudden distance.

You thought Ellie had outgrown your friendship. One day she'd be smiling with you, the next day she'd barley look at you.

Ellie on the other hand, was in love with you.

She suddenly became self-aware of how she looked, how she smelled, how she spoke. She didn't want to embarrass herself. The best solution to her problem (or what she thought was right) was avoiding you.

Now that she's older she has realized that damage her avoiding you caused.

Years had gone by and the two of you lived separate lives, but Ellie's feelings for you never went away. She was stuck on you.

No matter how many girls she dated, kissed or hooked up with, she knew her heart belonged to you.

The older Ellie grew, the more attractive you found her and some days you're actually glad the friendship ended.

Imagine you were best friends with the girl you loved?

Both of you assumed your feelings were one sided. Until the rumors started.

It all started when a girl randomly slapped you across the face saying that Ellie moaned your name while they were doing the deed.

She's been avoiding you but she's moaning your name?

You weren't sure if you should feel flattened or disturbed.

You'd hear more stories as the years went on.

"She liked you" , "She misses you" You weren't sure if this was even true. Maybe it was all just a sick joke.

Even with all the drama you missed her. The friendship. The cheesy jokes, the stupid stories. You just missed her.

You were actually happy when Ellie slowly started coming back into your life. It went from just saying hi occasionally, to small life updates to full sleepovers.

It was just like old times.

Your heart ached for her even more, now you're getting close again. As much as you enjoyed the friendship, you couldn't help but want more.

You noticed her lingering touches, the small glances.

Maybe you were being delusional? Maybe you were reading into it?

You could feel a connection, but does she feel it too?

Maybe the rumors weren't true.

"You saw me earlier els, you cant miss me"

"I just love spending time with you"

fuck, how many girls has she said this to?

"i want to-" she went silent, not finishing her sentence.

She seemed nervous.

From the corner of your eye you see her moving closer to you, her arm wrapping around your shoulders.

You shiver at the close contact.

"Why are you so close?" You ask in a whisper

"I'm keeping you warm"

It was winter and its really fucking cold but suddenly you were hot. You were almost sweating because of the close proximity.

This is closest she's been in years.

Ellie leaned closer towards you, so close you could feel her breathe on your cheek. Your heart races, you felt comfortable in her presence, you palms felt clammy.

You were nervous.

Why does she make you nervous?

"Can i kiss you?" Ellie suddenly asked.

Without hesitation you said yes.

Before your lips crashed into hers, your body turned hot, your breathing came out in short breaths. You turned to her and and her hand gently touched your cheek, you leaned in first.

Since when are you bold? Were you really this desperate?

As soon as your lips made contact, you felt butterflies explode in your stomach. She pulled you closer by the waist and you grabbed her face bringing her closer than she already was.

Your heart was beating so fucking fast, you assumed she could probably feel it.

"Your lips are...cold" you softly chuckle as your fingers brushed against your lips.

Did this just happen?

You were suddenly hyperaware of your surroundings.

Did you breath smell ok? Did you kiss ok?

Fuck now you were really nervous.

Ellie didn't respond and there was a comfortable silence between the two of you.

Ellie spoke up eventually "I've always wanted to do that"

You stayed silent blushing at her words.

"Do you want to come back to... my place so we can talk about us.... and i know you hate being alone during the holidays so can we perhaps... i don't know... go?"

"Yeah... I'd like that"

<3

can u pretty please with a cherry on top make a part 4 to the milf abby 😔🙏🏼💟

Headcannons: Milf!abby anderson x reader (part 4)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

Authors note: Ladies and pookies I'm back! This last week has been the worst and most painful week of my life but, I'm back and better than ever <3

☆ Milf Abby who gets your initials tattooed on her ring finger.

You felt her calloused hands grab your waist as you stood admiring the ring she got you.

“it’s pretty” you muttered

“you’re pretty” she said with a smile

“shut up Abby” you shoved her to the side as you felt your face grow hot.

The two of you stood in silence for a while, enjoying the peace and quiet you both rarely get with Aubrey

“you know” Abby started “if the bride gets to wear an engagement ring, what about their partner?”

Your brows furrow, at the thought.

“that actually makes a lot of sense Abby. We should get you a ring-“

but before you could even finish you sentence Abby lifted up her right hand revealing the tattoo.

“what the fuck Abigail”

☆ Milf Abby who refers to you as her wife long before the wedding.

“Yeah my wife and I went there”

“she’s my wife”

“my wife likes that show” “you know what they say happy wife happy life”

☆ Milf Abby who buys you white dresses as gifts just to see what you would look like in white, because she really couldn’t wait for the wedding.

☆ Milf Abby who’s literally a perfectionist and plans the wedding without a planner.

“No, you aren’t folding the napkins right” “that isn’t the right shade of pink”

☆ Milf Abby who asks her daughter to be the ring bearer and the maid of honor.

Aubrey looked at you with curious eyes as Abby placed the box onto her lap.

“dude what’s this?”

“Aubrey I’m not your friend, who taught you that word?” Abby sighed

“grandpa did” “of course he did. He really needs to stop-“

 “Abby lets focus on the box” you interrupted her, knowing this conversation wasn’t going anywhere.

“Can I open it please?” Aubrey asked you, with a polite smile.

“of course she’s nice to you! You little gremlin-“

“Abby!”

Abby felt Aubrey pinch her arm at the gremlin comment

“why would you-“

“ok” you said with a stern voice “lets open the box, you guys can fight later”

sometimes it felt like you were living with children.

Aubrey’s small hands grabbed the box, eagerly tearing away the wrapping paper. In the box lay a simple white dress, with paper rings. The little girl gently grabbed the fabric, inspecting it. She saw the rings and it took her a while to get it.

“I’m carrying the rings?!” she yelled

“and we were hoping you’d be our maid of honor too” you pulled out a basket from behind you and the girls smile grew.

☆ Milf Abby who begs you to let her go with you when you go wedding dress shopping.

“please”

“Abby its bad luck”

“fuck the bad luck”

☆ Milf Abby who sends you thumbs down emoji’s the whole time you were gone.

☆ Milf Abby who doesn’t want to sleep in separate houses the night before the wedding.

☆ Milf Abby who sends you cringe Facebook minion memes and jokes because she misses you. This was your first night apart in months, but she knew after tonight she would be waking up with you next to her for the rest of her life.

☆ Milf Abby who barley slept that night. She wasn’t sure if she was nervous or excited.

☆ Milf Abby who gets ready extremely early. Her hair was out of her normal tight braid, and the hair fell to her shoulders. Her black suit hugging her in all the right places.

☆ Milf Abby who starts at herself in the mirror too long, and she suddenly notices her wrinkles, she suddenly notices the grey hairs.

☆ Milf Abby who gets cold feet.

☆ Milf Abby who starts crying because you didn’t deserve this.

You needed someone younger, some who doesn’t have back pains and complains about their joints hurting. Someone who wasn’t turning 50 soon.

Someone who won’t die soon.

You needed more than Abby.

Abby’s loud sobs filled the room as she looked at herself in the mirror.

She should call this off.

“Abby?” her head snapped to the direction of the door. It was her dad. She quickly wiped her eyes, and she sniffed a couple of times. “hey dad” he slowly walked towards her, and he gently sat next to her, putting his hand on her shoulder he muttered “you okay?”

The blonde sitting next to him broke out in sobs, her head fell to his shoulder “oh honey” he breathed as he held her close.

“Abby what’s wrong?” He felt his daughter tremble next to him. “i- I’m keeping her back in life” Abby started, and Jerry just sat and listened to her.

“I’m so old I’m probably going to die soon. Who wants to be married to a grandma? One of these days I won’t be able to get out of bed without complaining. And she’s so pretty and young- she-she deserves everything, and what can I give her? My future dentures?”

“have you ever thought that this is what she wanted?”

Abby lifted her head to what her father said.

“The fact she’s marrying you proves that the love she has for you is endless. She’s willing to look after you when you do get those dentures. She wants you as much as you want her Abby, don’t let your insecurities stop you from being with the love of your life. And yeah, you’ll get old, but she’ll be with you”

☆ Milf Abby who goes to the venue earlier than everyone to make sure everything is ok.

☆ Milf Abby who stood at the altar with sweaty palms, waiting for your arrival.

☆ Milf Abby who started crying as soon as you start walking down the aisle.

 ☆ Milf Abby who couldn’t take her eyes off you the whole ceremony because she realized that this was it. She was marrying you.

☆ Milf Abby who shed more tears than you did during your vows and she cried even more when Aubrey came with the rings.

☆ Milf Abby who practically jumps on you when they said she could kiss you.

You felt her hands grab your face, and she brought you in for a rough kiss.

The crowned screamed around the two of you and you heard the clicks of all the cameras. You felt Abby’s lips smile against yours before she pulled away putting her head against yours.

She whispered “I’ll love you forever”

“I love you too abs, forever and always”

High enough by k.flay is sooo obsessive ellie with a reader who doesnt know she exists but gets mad when jesse or dina warn her about ellies behaviour

high enough- ellie williams x reader

hi anon! thank you requesting this!! I'm so suprised ive never heard of this song. This is so obsessive ellie coded. I hope you enjoy:)

This story is based off the song High enough by K Flay, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

requests are open, send me your thoughts:)

Warnings: obsession

Summary: In which you wanted her

Masterlist

You’d only been in Jackson a month when you first saw her.

She stood out—sharp jaw, freckled face, an intensity in her green eyes that made your chest clench. You noticed her on the patrol schedule, but she never said much. Just stared.

Sometimes you’d look up and catch her watching you across the dining hall. Not smiling. Just... looking.

It gave you chills. Not fear exactly—just something too heavy to name.

You didn’t know her name then. You would later.

“Hey,” Jesse said, sliding onto the bench beside you. “Word of advice?”

You blinked. “Yeah?”

He glanced over his shoulder, then leaned in. “Stay away from Ellie.”

You laughed, confused. “What? I don’t even know her.”

He didn’t laugh back. “Good. Keep it that way.”

You frowned. “Why?”

“She doesn’t… do normal. Gets fixated. You don’t want that kind of attention.”

You rolled your eyes. “Is this some protective crap? I can handle myself.”

Jesse sighed and left it alone. But he wasn’t the only one.

Later, Dina caught you patching up a horse near the stables.

“You seen Ellie around?” you asked casually.

Dina froze for a second too long.

“Why?”

You shrugged. “She keeps popping up. Figured I’d say hi.”

Dina stepped closer. “Don’t.”

Your brow furrowed. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“She gets obsessed,” Dina said flatly. “And you—you don’t see it. That’s how it starts.”

You crossed your arms. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know her,” Dina said. “And she’ll chew you up.”

You didn’t listen. Because Ellie started showing up more.

Always just… there.

When you were in the garden, she’d pass by. When you went for patrol, somehow your name ended up paired with hers. Once, when a gate latch broke and you slipped, she was there—grabbing your wrist so fast you didn’t even hit the ground.

“You okay?” she asked, voice low and steady.

You nodded, stunned.

And when you looked up, her face was too close. Eyes full of something unreadable.

“Don’t scare me like that,” she muttered. Then walked off.

Your stomach flipped.

You were starting to dream about her now. Waking up with her name on your lips.

You didn’t see the danger—not really.

Not until she showed up at your cabin at midnight.

You cracked the door open. She stood on the porch, hoodie soaked from the rain, hands clenched.

“Ellie?”

“I heard you were with Jesse,” she said, no greeting, no smile.

“What?”

“At the bar. You were laughing. He touched your arm.”

You stared. “So?”

“So you’re mine.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I mean—fuck,” she hissed, dragging a hand through her hair. “I just—I see you. All the time. And it’s like I can’t breathe when you look at anyone else.”

You took a step back. “Ellie, we’re not even—”

“I know,” she snapped. “But I watch you and I know things Jesse doesn’t. Dina doesn’t. I see you.”

She stepped inside without asking, closing the door behind her.

“I can’t get high enough to not feel you,” she whispered. “You don’t even know I exist and it’s driving me insane.”

You stood frozen as she stepped closer.

“Do you want me to go?” she asked, voice trembling. “Tell me. I’ll go.”

You should’ve said yes.

But you didn’t.

You reached up, touched her jaw. And when she kissed you, it was feverish. Messy. Desperate.

Like she’d been dying for this. Like you were air.

You were hers after that. Not officially. Not publicly.

But in the ways that mattered.

Ellie’s hands on your hips. Her breath on your neck. Her knife tucked in your bag when she thought you’d forgotten one. Her voice soft in your ear—“Don’t ever leave without telling me.”

When Jesse looked at you too long, she knocked over his drink and didn’t apologize.

When Dina gave you that look—worry, warning—Ellie cornered her outside and came back with blood on her knuckles.

“You’re scaring people,” you said one night, whispering into her skin.

“I don’t care,” she murmured, pulling you tighter. “Let them be scared. You’re mine.”

It wasn’t until you caught her in your room—reading your journal—that it really hit you.

“Ellie?”

She didn’t even flinch. Just looked up with that same calm obsession.

“You wrote about me,” she said.

You stared. “That doesn’t mean you can—”

“I just wanted to know how you see me,” she said softly. “I think about you every second. I needed to know if it was mutual.”

Your chest ached.

It was mutual. That was the worst part.

You’d fallen for a storm in human form.

You stopped asking questions. Let her in.

Let her love you like wildfire—burning, dangerous, beautiful.

You knew it wasn’t healthy. Knew people whispered.

But when her arms wrapped around you, when she kissed you like you were the only thing that kept her sane—

—it didn’t matter.

Because you weren’t high enough to care.

When will reqs be open?

They are open rn!! Until I say otherwise:)

that professor ellie was perfect. please do a nsfw one LOL i feel like she’d be so sweet but also lowkey not BUT ONLY SOMETIMES bc she’s usually gentle but other times she’s like I HAVE TO HAVE YOU HEHEHE but never too crazy but also is she??? im spiralling

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

warning: NSFW content! MDNI 18+

☆ By day, she’s the composed, sarcastic, brilliant literature professor — but behind closed doors, Ellie becomes the kind of woman who whispers filth in your ear while holding your face like you’re precious.

☆ Her desk is definitely not just for grading. She’s taken you over it more than once, locking the door and muttering, “Need to teach you a real lesson.”

☆ Ellie buys you expensive lingerie “for her eyes only” — and makes you wear it under your clothes to class just to tease her. She'll smirk knowingly while lecturing, completely composed while you're squirming.

☆ That calm, slow professor tone? It drops an octave when she’s turned on, and it drives you wild. Especially when she reads poetry to you while touching you.

☆ She worships your body. Whispers “my good girl” while brushing your hair out of your face. Calls you brilliant, beautiful, irresistible — even when you’re falling apart beneath her.

☆ Subtle in public — a hand on your lower back, a kiss to your temple — but in private? She's feral. Leaves marks like she’s afraid someone else might look at you wrong.

☆ Ellie makes everything sound intellectual… even sex. “Let me illustrate this theory,” or “Let’s conduct an experiment,” as she pins your wrists down.

☆ Some nights it’s slow, candlelit, and gentle. Other nights she’s gripping your hips, leaving you breathless and blissed out because she needed you that bad.

☆ When she keeps the glasses on during sex, you know she means business. She looks down at you like you’re a book she’s studied a thousand times but still finds something new every time.

☆ Yes, she will continue a sentence or a theory while slowly sliding her fingers into you — “Pay attention. This part’s on the test.”

☆ Weekend mornings always start with lazy kisses, sleepy fingers, and Ellie growling, “Don’t get up. Not until I’m done with you.”

☆ Ellie lives to see how far she can push you. Fingers, mouth, toys — she’ll draw it out until you’re crying her name like it’s scripture.

☆ Once in a while she gets so turned on she loses it — hair messy, biting your shoulder, saying “I need you. Right now. Don’t care where.”

☆ Immediately after, Ellie’s soft as ever — running you a bath, wrapping you in one of her flannels, feeding you strawberries like you’re royalty.

☆ That locked drawer in her office? Yeah, it’s not just for documents. It holds your favorite toy, a silk blindfold, and one of your panties she “borrowed.”

☆ Reading You Erotica: She’ll find the filthiest passage from some obscure book and read it to you while you sit in her lap, grinding slowly, whimpering.

☆ If someone else flirts with you, Ellie pulls you close, kisses you hard, and whispers, “Mine. Let me remind you.”

☆ She doesn’t always need to speak. Sometimes it’s a look — those sharp green eyes locking on you — and you know to drop to your knees.

☆ She tells you she dreams about you. That she can’t concentrate in meetings because she’s thinking about how you taste, how you sound.

☆ She calls you her “thesis.” The one thing she’ll never stop studying, never stop learning, never stop needing.

☆ Her hand wraps around your throat, but it’s never rough — it’s possessive. She leans in, kisses your lips softly, and says, “Breathe for me. That’s my girl.”

☆ One time, she made you sit through one of her lectures with a remote-controlled vibe inside you. Smiled at you from the front like nothing was happening — then turned it up when she caught you squirming.

☆ Ellie isn’t flashy with bondage. She prefers silk ties, slow binding, and long stares as she murmurs, “You look better like this. All mine.”

☆ Ellie needs to hear every sound you make. She’ll edge you for hours just to hear the pitch of your moans change, cataloguing them like they’re part of a study.

☆ She tugs your hair not just to dominate, but to angle your head up — to kiss you, to praise you, to look you in the eye and say, “So fucking pretty like this.”

☆ If you're a student, she makes you earn your orgasms during finals. “Get an A, and I’ll ruin you. Fail, and I’ll really ruin you. Either way, baby, you’re not walking right.”

☆ Ellie has a thing for your hands on her — gripping her shoulders, clutching her shirt, leaving nail marks down her back. She thanks you for them like you gave her a gift.

☆ She once let you ride her while still wearing her full robe, glasses slipping down her nose, hand on your waist as she said, “Professor’s privilege.”

☆ If you ever admit to having a dream about her, Ellie insists you describe every detail — while she touches you exactly how you described it.

☆ In bed, she gets scary quiet. One word from her — strip, stay, come — and your body obeys before your brain catches up.

I was wondering what would be professor ellies reaction to overhearing her students call her wife a milf?😭

Idk if she would be smug or jealous 😭

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

☆ You arrive right before Ellie’s lecture starts, balancing Aurora on your hip and pushing Arnold in a sleek black pram.

☆ You’re in leggings and a fitted hoodie, your hair half-tied, glowing in that “effortless hot mom” way that makes people stare.

☆ Ellie’s in the middle of setting up her slides when she spots you through the open lecture hall door and just melts—the tension in her shoulders visibly drops.

☆ “Shit,” she mumbles when she sees the brown paper bag in your hand, realizing she did forget her lunch on the kitchen counter.

☆ Aurora clings to you, shyly resting her head against your shoulder as her curls bounce with each step.

☆ Ellie immediately walks down from the podium, forgetting about her slides for a second just to greet the three of you.

☆ She kisses your temple, whispers a thank you, and gently strokes Arnold’s cheek as he stirs in his sleep.

☆ Students start to murmur as the scene unfolds—especially since they rarely see Professor Williams flustered or affectionate in public.

☆ You’re kind, smiling at her class and giving a little wave before telling Ellie to have a good lecture.

☆ As you walk out, Ellie’s eyes are glued to you—watching your hips sway and how effortlessly beautiful you look with her babies.

☆ The door hasn’t even closed behind you when a student in the back lets out a low whistle.

☆ Another mutters, “Damn, Professor Williams pulled a MILF.”

☆ Someone giggles, “Now it makes sense why she’s so serious—she’s got that waiting at home.”

☆ Ellie hears everything.

☆ Her eyes narrow slightly, jaw tightening as she clicks her laptop to the next slide a little too hard.

☆ “That was my wife, by the way,” she says nonchalantly, eyes still on the screen.

☆ “And the mother of both my children. Not that it's any of your business.”

☆ The room goes completely silent. A few students exchange wide-eyed looks.

☆ Ellie smirks to herself. Her little dig was sharp but still professional—classic passive-aggressive Professor Williams.

☆ She continues her lecture like nothing happened, but there's an edge in her tone now, like she’s daring anyone to comment again.

☆ She’s seething with jealousy, even if the comments were technically compliments.

☆ In her head: Of course they think she’s hot. She’s fucking perfect.

☆ She can’t stop picturing how good you looked—messy mom hair, flushed cheeks, and that soft voice.

☆ The image of you holding Aurora with one arm while pushing Arnold is burned into her brain.

☆ Her students noticing your hotness only confirms what she already knows: you’re stunning, magnetic, hers.

☆ She spends half the lecture imagining dragging you into her office after class just to mark her territory.

☆ She literally has to pause mid-sentence at one point because her brain short-circuits thinking about it.

☆ When she finally wraps up, she types “MILF-hunting undergrads = extra assignments” into her personal notes. Half-joking. Kind of.

☆ She finds you sitting on a bench outside her building, Arnold now awake and cooing softly.

☆ Aurora’s blowing dandelions and crawling into your lap every five seconds.

☆ Ellie drops her bag beside you and immediately kisses you—firm, slow, full of silent you’re mine energy.

☆ “You shouldn’t come looking like that,” she whispers into your hair.

☆ “Like what?” you ask, knowing exactly what she means.

☆ “Like the hottest person to ever walk into a university campus—with my baby on your hip.”

☆ She looks down at Arnold and mutters, “I hope he didn’t hear the bullshit I had to sit through.”

☆ You giggle, teasing, “What, jealous?”

☆ “No,” she deadpans. “Just proud. And territorial. And maybe slightly homicidal.”

☆ She offers to push the pram, her other arm slung possessively around your waist.

☆ She keeps glancing at passing students, daring anyone to look at you again.

☆ She tells you the whole story during dinner—every comment, every internal reaction.

☆ “I should start the next lecture with a slide that says: ‘That MILF is married. To me.’”

☆ You laugh so hard you nearly spill juice on Arnold’s onesie.

☆ Aurora asks what a “milf” is and Ellie nearly chokes.

☆ She’s planning a casual campus lunch date where she can show you off properly.

☆ She updates her office desk photos—new ones of you holding Arnold and a candid of you kissing Aurora’s nose.

☆ She catches herself rereading her student evaluations, smirking at the ones that mention her being “intimidating but hot.”

☆ Her next lecture includes a quote about “respecting others—especially your professor’s badass wife.”

☆ When you tease her later, she kisses you roughly and growls, “They wish they had you. But they never will.”

☆ She journals about the moment that night, scribbling things like “she looked so perfect. She always does. Mine.”

☆ The next time you bring her lunch, she kisses you in front of the class. Not a long kiss—just enough to make a point.

your writing is so good :(( i would really like to see more of professor ellie

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

☆ Ellie leaves post-it notes around the house with little observations or facts—like “Did you know an octopus has three hearts?”—signed “Prof. Williams.”

☆ Her morning coffee routine is sacred; she makes a second cup automatically for you, even before you’re awake.

☆ She reads peer-reviewed articles in bed and mumbles criticisms under her breath while you drift off beside her.

☆ Ellie has a very specific chair she grades in and lets no one—not even you—sit in it. But you drape a throw blanket over it to “soften her edges.”

☆ She always corrects the grammar of signs in public and then immediately kisses your cheek to make up for it.

☆ You have a running list of vocabulary words she uses in daily conversation that you make fun of.

☆ Ellie panics if she forgets her planner—it’s her life line. You once hid it as a joke and she almost cried.

☆ You make her wear blue light glasses after she complained about headaches from too much screen time.

☆ Her books are all arranged by subject and subtopic, but there’s a tiny, chaotic shelf of novels you convinced her to read.

☆ She pretends to be annoyed when you fold her clothes wrong but secretly refolds them late at night with a fond smile.

☆ Ellie buys you vintage notebooks because she says your thoughts deserve a beautiful place to live.

☆ She underlines passages in her research books with faint hearts in the margins and lets you find them.

☆ Her favorite way to flirt is through long, winding academic arguments—and she always lets you win.

☆ You once called her "Doctor Williams" during a heated argument and it turned her on. She went silent and red.

☆ She creates elaborate metaphors from her lectures just to compliment you—“If you were a research subject, I'd violate the ethics code to know you better.”

☆ You sit in on her lectures sometimes and she always smirks when she spots you in the back.

☆ She corrects your pronunciation mid-conversation—then kisses your neck to distract you from being annoyed.

☆ Ellie keeps a secret folder on her laptop titled “My Favorite Theories,” and it’s full of quotes you’ve said.

☆ Her handwriting is almost illegible but she writes you love letters on university letterhead like it’s an academic report.

☆ You once found her writing a journal article about love, and every example was clearly about you.

☆ Ellie has a habit of muttering “mine” when you wear her glasses or sweaters.

☆ She's terrible at emotional vulnerability unless it’s 2 a.m. and she’s had too much wine.

☆ She’ll never admit it, but she tracks your schedule as carefully as she tracks her office hours.

☆ Ellie’s idea of intimacy is lying in bed silently, your legs tangled while she edits a manuscript.

☆ She’s obsessed with the back of your neck—always kissing it in passing like a reflex.

☆ You leave her little annotated notes in her books, and she keeps every single one like sacred texts.

☆ She has a playlist titled “My Subject of Study” and every song reminds her of you.

☆ She’s not great with selfies, but she secretly takes pictures of you reading, working, or laughing when you’re not looking.

☆ She’s fiercely protective of your mind—hates when others interrupt you or undermine your opinions in group settings.

☆ You once wrote her a poem and she printed it, framed it, and keeps it in her office behind a stack of journals so no one sees but her.

☆ Ellie spirals if she feels emotionally disconnected from you—she’ll reread texts and reanalyze conversations like case studies.

☆ She memorizes your patterns: the way you chew pens, sigh when thinking, the exact sound of your “I’m tired” voice.

☆ She keeps a folder of your academic achievements and personal wins like she’s building a resume for you.

☆ If someone flirts with you, Ellie becomes icy professional—like a polite shark.

☆ She has intrusive thoughts about losing you during lectures and will stop mid-slide to text “Are you okay?”

☆ You once made a joke about breaking up and she didn’t speak for six hours.

☆ She gets almost religiously intense when she talks about your intelligence—like you’re the final proof of something sacred.

☆ She knows your preferred citation style and uses it when she references you in footnotes.

☆ Ellie gets jealous when other professors praise you too highly—even if she agrees.

☆ You once caught her writing your initials over and over in the margins of her personal notebooks like a lovesick teen.

☆ When you fight, Ellie retreats into silence and overthinks every word you said until she’s made herself sick.

☆ Her apologies are long, detailed, and cited like a research paper—thesis statement, body, conclusion.

☆ She’s incredibly sensitive to tone—one “fine” from you can ruin her whole day.

☆ When she’s upset, she cleans obsessively—especially her desk. You always know something’s wrong when her pens are too perfectly aligned.

☆ She once sent you a long email titled “Re: Our Disagreement” instead of texting you after a fight.

☆ She’s terrified of not being enough for you—but tries to hide it under cold logic.

☆ You’ve had to pull her out of panic spirals during her worst grading weeks when she believes she’s failing at everything, including your relationship.

☆ Sometimes she offers you affection like an apology, and you have to remind her you don’t need to be earned.

☆ Ellie reads out loud to you when you can’t sleep—dense texts, soft poems, even her own work in progress.

☆ She writes one line of a love letter every day in the back of her planner. She says she’ll show it to you in a decade.

☆ She always keeps an extra charger for you in her bag—just in case.

☆ She never starts eating until she sees you take a bite first. Always.

☆ She writes tiny love notes on your receipts, your lecture printouts, your napkins.

☆ Ellie never says “I love you” casually—when she says it, she means it. Every. Time.

☆ She keeps a copy of your handwriting taped inside her wallet.

☆ She kisses your temple like it’s an academic ritual—precision, reverence, consistency.

☆ You once told her she talk-writes in her sleep—and now she worries she says too much while dreaming.

☆ Her love feels clinical sometimes: obsessive, methodical, deeply studied—but it’s real. And it’s yours.

☆ She saves up random facts just to tell you at night, as if your curiosity is the only thing that makes her day complete.

☆ Every time you tell her you love her, she still pauses—like it’s a theory she never quite believes she’s worthy of, but is so desperate to prove.