𝐈𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞?: 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘴

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 cant stop thinking about dark desperate ex gf ellie who broke up with you for cat a few years ago but now is knee deep in love and keeps trying to manipulate your relationship with your gf (jesse and dina try to stop her but... Young love what can we do)

Knee deep - ellie williams x reader

hi anon! I really like this idea... I lowkey wanna make a part 2 to this... i hope you enjoy:)

Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

requests are open, send me your thoughts:)

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, toxic behaviors, mention of infidelity (emotional), angst-heavy, complex feelings, swearing.

Summary: In which ellie wanted you back

Masterlist

Ellie Williams wasn’t supposed to come back. Not after what she did.

You’d built a life—steady, slow, whole—without her. Two years since she left you for Cat. Two years of grief, resentment, quiet rebuilding. Two years of convincing yourself that her absence was your freedom.

Now she stood outside the Tipsy Bison, a cigarette twitching between her fingers, hood up, green eyes tracking you like a mark.

“Hey,” she said when you stepped outside, your name low and husky on her tongue like a secret. “Been a while.”

Your stomach twisted. You hadn’t seen that face in two years—only through half-memories and the hollow ache of dreams you refused to admit you had. She still looked the same. Tired. Dangerous. Beautiful in a way that only hurt now.

You didn’t answer.

Ellie took a drag and blew out a slow breath. “You gonna ignore me forever?”

You wanted to. God, you wanted to.

But something about the way she said it—like she already knew you wouldn’t—cracked the surface.

“What do you want, Ellie?”

She shrugged like she didn’t already have a thousand motives stitched beneath her skin. “I just wanted to see you. Thought we could talk.”

You gave her a hard look. “After two years?”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “After two years.”

Jesse didn’t believe it. Dina was pissed. Even Maria—who didn’t usually let things shake her—grew cold the moment Ellie’s name passed through your lips.

“She’s back?” Maria asked, arms crossed as she leaned against the kitchen counter, lips tight. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” you answered, which wasn’t a lie. Not really.

“She’s dangerous,” Dina added, always the realist. “Not in the ‘gonna hurt you physically’ way. In the ‘gonna pull your brain apart thread by thread’ way.”

You told yourself they were being dramatic. That you were stronger now. That Ellie couldn’t touch you anymore.

But then she started showing up.

Once at the diner where you worked—ordering coffee she never drank. Once near your cabin, claiming she “just happened to be walking by.” And once, late at night, waiting on your porch with a bottle of whiskey and a sad, slanted smile.

You didn’t let her in. Not that night.

The day she finally got to you was rainy. Thunder hung in the distance, and Cat was away on patrol. You’d been in the garden, hands dirty, hair damp, when Ellie showed up at the gate like a ghost resurrected.

“You still wear that necklace I gave you,” she said, voice soft and surprised.

You looked down. A slip of silver tucked beneath your shirt. You’d forgotten it was there. It pissed you off that she noticed. Pissed you off more that you hadn’t taken it off.

You wanted to tell her to leave, but she just kept going.

“I fucked up,” she whispered. “I thought Cat was… I don’t know. Simpler. Safer. But it was never like it was with you.”

You rolled your eyes, wiping mud on your pants. “You’re two years too late.”

“Are you happy?” she asked suddenly referring to the girl you had recently started dating.

Her name was Daisy. She was perfect, she gave you everything Ellie didn't. But you didn't love her like you loved Ellie.

No one could compare to Ellie.

The question landed like a gut punch. You weren’t expecting it. She leaned in then, crowding your space, eyes glassy and searching.

“Does she make you feel the way I did?”

You stared at her. “She doesn’t make me feel like shit. That’s the difference.”

Ellie flinched, and for a moment, you felt victorious.

But then she laughed—low, bitter. “You say that, but you’re not pushing me away.”

You did, then. Shoved her back with dirt-caked fingers and slammed the gate shut.

The problem was—Ellie didn’t stop.

She started leaving things. A drawing of you from memory, folded neatly in your mailbox. A song on a tape labeled "for the nights you still think of me." A note under your door that said, “She doesn’t know you like I do. She never will.”

You told yourself you hated it. You told yourself it was manipulation. You weren’t wrong. But you also didn’t tell Daisy.

The tension grew like a weed.

Daisy sensed it. Of course she did. She wasn’t stupid.

“You’ve been weird lately,” she said one night, her voice clipped. “Distant.”

You looked down at your hands. “Just tired.”

“You’re not still hung up on her, are you?”

Silence.

“Jesus,” Daisy muttered. “You are.”

“It’s not like that,” you insisted, even though it was exactly like that. Ellie was a wound that never fully healed. Just scarred over enough to convince you it had.

Daisy stood up, disgusted. “She left you. She replaced you. And now she comes back and suddenly you’re forgetting everything we’ve built?”

You didn’t answer.

Because Ellie had taken up space in your mind again. And you were letting her.

The night it all boiled over, the power had gone out.

A storm swept through Jackson and left the town flickering in candlelight. You were alone in your cabin when a knock hit your door. Slow. Measured.

You knew it was her.

Ellie didn’t wait to be invited. She stepped in, soaked to the bone, hair plastered to her forehead, and eyes wild with something between hope and desperation.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” she whispered. “Every time I close my eyes, it’s you. It’s always been you.”

You backed away, heart hammering. “You left me.”

“I know,” she said, voice breaking. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to love you the right way.”

“And now you do?”

She walked closer. “Now I’d rather fuck it up trying than live without you.”

You hated how your knees weakened. Hated how she knew just what to say.

“This is wrong,” you said.

“But it feels right,” she countered, and then she kissed you.

It was lightning in the bloodstream. Familiar. Addictive. Toxic.

And you kissed her back. Only for a moment.

Then you shoved her away. “I can’t do this.”

Ellie’s expression shattered. “You still love me.”

You hesitated. Then: “That’s not the point.”

The next day, you told Daisy everything.

It ended in shouting. Slamming doors. Tears. She left. Said she needed time.

And you stood in the wreckage, heart hollow, stomach twisted with guilt and something uglier: relief.

Ellie showed up that night. Like she knew.

“I heard,” she said, leaning against your porch railing. “You told her.”

You didn’t reply.

Ellie smiled, and it wasn’t kind. It was something darker. Hungrier.

“Guess it’s just us now.”

I love your Professor Ellie series, god... it's beautiful, perfect. Ellie is so soft, fine, so right(? I don't know how to say it, it feels so good to read it, I'm in love with her and your way of writing.

P.S. I'm using a translator, sorry if there's a spelling mistake.

oh my word, thank you sm!! Messages like these mean the world to me, and this motives me sm!!I love you and i appreciate it!!

(P.s it's ok your English was just fine, I understand everything)

Can you do smt for abby with the song new magic wand by Tyler the creator?

I love her puppy eyes and muscles so much 🥺

Also, i love obsessive women so

New Magic Wand - abby anderson x reader

hi anon!! fictional obsessive women are so hot ughhhhhhhh. i hope you enjoy:) also abby in this pic??? i love her.

this story is based off the song new magic wand by tyler the creator. If you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

requests are open, send me your thoughts:)

Warnings: dark themes, obsession, violence, psychological tension

Summary: Abby has never been good at letting things go. And she sure as hell isn't letting go of you.

Masterlist

You met Abby during a supply run in Jackson. Just two soldiers assigned to the same patrol, nothing special. But there was something about you—your laugh, maybe. The way you didn’t flinch when she barked orders. The way you looked at the world like it hadn’t completely fallen apart.

That was two months ago.

Now, she watches you from the shadows.

She doesn’t mean to. At first, it was casual. Coincidental. A walk past the stables. Lingering near the training yard. Asking around. But then she saw you with someone else. That girl—Mia, from the medbay. Too close. Touching your wrist. Whispering.

Abby’s jaw locked so tight her molars ached.

She waited. Quiet. Calculating.

She told herself you weren’t hers. But that wasn’t true. Not really.

You were hers. You just didn’t know it yet.

“She’s gonna be dead, I just got a magic wand.”

You started noticing strange things.

Your door left slightly ajar when you knew you closed it. The sweater you thought you lost suddenly reappearing on your cot. A shadow behind you in the glass of the dining hall. At first, you brushed it off. The world was full of paranoia and trauma—maybe it was just stress.

Then Mia disappeared.

She never showed up to her shift. Her bunk was untouched. No note. No signs of struggle.

You asked questions. Abby watched you from across the rec room as you begged the search party to look further. No one had the energy to care. People disappeared sometimes.

But Abby cared.

Abby had taken care of the problem.

She didn't use a "magic wand"—just her hands. Just enough pressure. She didn’t scream. Abby was proud of that. No mess. No loose ends.

She thought you'd notice her now. You didn’t.

You started pulling away. Spending more time alone. Your smile—her favorite thing about you—began to dim. She hated that. Hated that you didn’t know she was trying to protect you.

Abby tried to get closer. Leaving you small things. A can of your favorite peaches. A leather glove you mentioned needing. You thanked her, politely.

But not the way she wanted.

“I need to get her out the picture, she’s really fucking up my frame.”

Abby started dreaming about you. In those dreams, you kissed her like you meant it. You let her hold you. You begged her to stay. Woke up to soaked sheets and a clenched jaw.

Reality was uglier. You barely looked at her now. You were scared—she could see it in your eyes. That made her blood boil and her stomach twist.

It was that fucking patrol leader next.

Sergio.

Too friendly. Too smug. Too willing to walk next to you, show you how to hold a better grip on your rifle.

Abby followed him. Took his knee out behind the stables. Broke his arm and left him in the snow. Said she found him that way.

It wasn’t about jealousy, she told herself. It was about clarity. You and her—there was no room for anyone else in the picture.

They were ruining the shot. The life she could see so clearly with you.

She’d fix it.

“I wanna be found, passenger in your car.”

You knew it by the fourth disappearance. This wasn’t just coincidence. Someone was doing this.

Someone was doing this for you.

That’s when you found the journal.

Hidden under the floorboard in the old stables. Pages and pages of your name. Drawings of your face. A lock of your hair taped to the corner of a page. Abby’s messy handwriting scrawled beneath every entry:

“I saw her smile today. I think she smiled at me.”

“She wore her green coat. It suits her. She looked cold—I should bring her another.”

“She looked at her again. I want to rip her throat out.”

“She's mine. She just doesn't understand yet.”

Your breath caught. She was watching you. All this time.

“You got a new friend, it hurts. I’ll make you one, I’ll make you one.”

You confronted her. Cornered her in the greenhouse, where no one else went anymore.

"Abby," you said, voice trembling. "What the fuck did you do?"

She didn’t deny it. Just looked at you like she always had—like you were the sun burning through her skull.

“I protected you,” she said. “They didn’t deserve you. None of them did.”

“You killed them,” you whispered.

She stepped closer. You flinched. That hurt her—cut deep.

“I’d do it again,” Abby murmured, voice soft and low. “I’d do anything for you.”

You should’ve run. You should’ve screamed.

But something in her eyes—something fractured and sincere—rooted you in place.

She reached out, calloused fingers brushing your cheek. You didn’t move.

"You don’t have to be scared," she whispered. "I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want you to see. We can be good, you and me."

And despite everything—the deaths, the obsession, the blood on her hands—your heart stuttered.

Because some broken, desperate part of you wanted to believe her.

Wanted to believe you could be loved that completely.

“Please don’t leave me now.”

Abby kept you in a cabin miles from Jackson. Safe. Stocked. Secluded. A place where no one could come between you.

She made you tea. Lit the fireplace. Spoke softly. Touched you like you were made of glass.

You tried to run once. She found you hours later, frostbitten and sobbing.

She carried you back. Wrapped you in blankets. Kissed your forehead.

“You don’t get it,” she murmured against your skin. “You’re all I have left.”

And eventually...you stopped fighting. Let her touch linger. Let her hold you at night.

You told yourself it was survival. But when she kissed you the first time, your lips parted.

Not in protest.

But in surrender.

requesting a fic of Ellie n reader running away and their lives kinda suck but they’re still glad cuz they have eachother and they’re away from their old environment and that’s all that rlly matters :) based on things to do by alex g!

things to do - (ellie williams x reader)

Hey anon! this is such a sweet idea! I loved writing this so much. Ily for this. I hope you enjoy it:)

This story is based off the song Things to do by Alex G. If you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open, feel free to leave one!

Warnings: toxic households (but there's a happy ending)

Summary: In which they got their happily ever after

Authors note: what?? me writing happy fics??? it's so rare but i love them. Also my surgery is in 2 days, so i'll be post all my drafts and requests over the next two days, so while i recover, so you guys have things to read:)

Thinkin' of things to do

Yeah, only the cheapest things left there for you

And the only thing I learned from you is that there's nothing left

To look forward to

I was asleep for days, and now you're the only thing

Keepin' me awake

The calculator will make the same mistakes

Yeah, I see it in its face

Ellie nervously sat under the tree waiting for you. She anxiously looked down at the plastic bag, silently praying that you'd like the snacks she bought.

"I'm sorry I'm late" you said breathing heavily as you ran towards her.

"Your mom was yelling at you again?"

"Yeah" you said as you sat next to her.

"Sometimes I just want to sleep, y'know? Like sleep without her waking me up and yelling" you admitted.

Ellie nodded in understanding because she too was experiencing the same thing.

Nobody understood the two of you like you understood each other.

You met Ellie when you were 14.

You remember she was sitting alone, and she was crying because she didn't have any lunch. You decided to talk to her.

"My mom also forgets to give me lunch money sometimes, but it's ok! I know where we can get something to eat" you said with a soft smile.

And the rest was history.

You and Ellie became inseparable because you both understood each other. You could comfort each other because you knew what the other was going through.

Whenever things were rough at home for you, you always went to Ellie. Or when Ellie need something to eat you'd always take something extra for her.

All you and Ellie were used to, was yelling, and constant fighting. But when you were each other there was none of that.

There was peace and unconditional love.

"Aw Ellie you should have" you said as she opened the bag to show you what she had got for you.

"Anything for you" Ellie muttered.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence. And Ellie's mind wondered.

You were such a nice person. You didn't deserve the toxic environment you were in.

Both of you didn't.

Silent moments like these with you always made Ellie happy.

She wished she had more time with you.

She wanted to take you away from all pain. From all the yelling, and sleepless nights, she wanted to keep you happy.

There was nothing left here for her. The only thing that kept her going was you.

The light in her darkness.

You felt Ellies eyes burning into the side of your head. You swallowed the gummy worms you had in your mouth as you turned to her, raising an eyebrow you asked "what?"

Ellie went quiet for a while, until she said something you thought you'd never hear her say.

"Let's run away together"

Hold on tight to this time, this place

'Cause everything you know will be erased

You were born inside your head

And that is where you'll be when you are dead

You are just a boy you are no man and

Nobody you know will understand

You are just a boy you are no man and

Nobody you know will understand

"Ellie I can't just leave, my mom will look for me-"

"fuck your fucking mom! She doesn't care, can't you see? If we leave we'll be free, we can live in peace. Please let's go" Ellie sighed in defeat.

If you chose Ellie you would betray your family, if you chose your family you would lose the only person who kept you sane.

"Ellie I cant" you said quietly.

You felt the tears in your eyes.

Was this really good bye?

Ellie got up and she looked at you with sad eyes "I cant force you, but I hope you're happy here"

She started walking away but she suddenly stopped, she looked back at you without any expression.

"I'm leaving tomorrow night, if you change your mind i'll be at the train station"

She left. She left you alone.

You went back home crying.

You'd just lost the only person, who you truly loved.

You were so fucking stupid.

You walked into your house and you immediately heard your mother's nagging voice yelling: "fucking finally, come here! You need to fix the sink"

you ignored her and you dashed to your room, as fast as you possibly could.

You locked the door, and you heard your mother pound against the door.

She was yelling insults at you, as if you didn't have feelings.

She truly deserves the mother of the year award.

After a while, she left and you were finally alone with your thoughts.

Did you make the right decision?

Ellie sat anxiously at the station, she hoped you'd change your mind. That's you'd show up. For your freedom, and safety.

She'd hoped you'd come for her.

She bit her nails waiting for the train to come in, hoping Joel didn't notice she was gone. She heard the sound of the train pull, and with a sigh she got up holding the strap on her backpack in a tight grip.

You weren't going to come. This was it.

"Ellie!"

Her head snapped in the direction of your voice.

There you stood in all your glory holding a bag. There was a grin on your face.

With your bag in hand you ran to Ellie and she ran to you. The two of you met halfway, and Ellie held you in a tight grip.

If she held you any tighter, surely you would suffocate.

"I thought you weren't going to come" Ellie breathed as she still held you.

You pulled away first, and you leaned forward, kissing her.

Ellie didn't kiss you back at first and you almost wanted to pull away and die, but you soon felt her lips move. You felt her smile during the kiss.

As you pulled away you looked at her with a shy smile "I love you Ellie, of course I came"

A grin spread onto the girls face and before she could say anything the locomotive yelled "departure in 2 minutes"

Ellie grabbed your hand, and she rushed onto the train with you.

The two of you sat next to each other, your hands still interlocked.

"I love you too" Ellie finally breathed.

The train started move, and the nerves you and Ellie felt were finally falling away. You would finally be free.

"To our new life together" Ellie said before she brought you in for another kiss.

Welcoming you back home

The only one that you have ever known

Welcoming you back home

The only one that you will ever know

as Ellie opened the front door the smell of a freshly baked pie filled the air.

This was home.

She walked through the threshold of your shared apartment and she practically ran to the kitchen in search of you.

As Ellie entered she saw you standing with your back facing her. You were humming a familiar tune.

She walked towards you, you felt her arms wrap around you as she started singing with you.

This was home.

The two of you were each others safe spaces. Each others homes.

And Ellie hoped for the rest of her life that she would come home to you.

Home doesn't always have to be a place, it's a person too. And you were that person.

Forever and always.

The best decision Ellie made was running away with you, and she had zero regrets.

house wife reader x mean ellie 👀 ellie works long hours on the weekdays and takes out all of her anger on her docile wife who cooks all her meals, does all of her laundry, cleans the entire house, and make sure ellie’s satisfied 24/7.

Satisfied - (ellie williams x housewife reader)

hi anon! mean ellie? hell yeah. I hope you don't mind, but I added my own twist. I hope you enjoy <3

Pairing: mean ellie x housewife fem!reader

requests are open, feel free to leave one!

HUGE warnings: toxic relationships, murder, gore, violence

Summary: in which you were the perfect housewife

authors note: I'm literally trying to empty out my request inbox, so be ready because there's a bunch of fics coming your way!

"so when last have you seen her?" The police officer asked as he sat across you.

"well she went out yesterday and she never came back"

you saw him look at you and Ellie's house as he was taking notes.

"Any arguments?"

"No"

once again you saw the pen write something on some paper. You wanted to know what exactly he was writing about.

What was talking him so long? You wanted him to fucking leave.

"Thank you for answering these questions, we'll call if we need anything else" the officer said as he stood up.

"Thank you for your hard work! Do I need to walk you out?" You asked with smile

"no, I'll show myself out" was all he said as he walked towards the front door.

As soon as he was out of sight you got up and ran to window to check if he was gone. You watched his car pull out the driveway, and you let out a sigh of relief.

fucking finally.

You ran to you and Ellie's shared room, and between heavy breathes you said "she almost caught us baby".

You walked towards the bed, where Ellie's decomposing body lay. Flies circled her body, her skin was pale and cold to the touch.

You put some of her hair behind her ear "it's ok now, they'll never catch us" you whispered

You loved Ellie. And you would anything for you. Anything including quitting your job and becoming her housewife.

In the beginning you hated it, staying home, cooking, cleaning. But when Ellie praised you, you fucking loved it.

And soon after you became the stereotypical housewife. Cute outfits, aprons that matched whatever you wore. You always woke up before her, to prepare her favorite breakfast. You cooked her dinner.

You fucking did everything.

The two of you were happy. Until Ellie got a promotion. She got more work, the pressure was getting worse for the poor girl.

Ellie came home late and most nights she barley even slept. You tried supporting your wife as best you could. You tried cleaning the house before she came come. You did all her laundry, you even chose her outfits most days.

But it was never enough for her.

One night you cooked Ellie's favorite meal. A prideful smile was on your lips as you put the plate in front of her.

This would cheer her up. You knew it would.

Ellie glanced down at the plate, and she looked back at you. The dark circles under her eyes looked even darker than they did yesterday.

"You are so fucking pathetic" she started.

"I work all fucking day to come to this shit? And look, this table is dusty" she added.

Ellie got up from where she was sitting and she threw the plate filled with food onto the floor. "You have cleaning to do, and don't fucking serve this shit again" she walked out of the dining room and you sat there mouth agape.

This was the first time she's ever said anything like that to you. You sobbed in the kitchen that night. You felt sick to your stomach.

Everything you did was for Ellie and for the first time she wasn't satisfied with you.

Your main mission in life became to serve. To serve her. But what do you do when the one you did everything for, wasn't satisfied?

The next morning you woke up bright and early, and you cooked Ellie a widespread of breakfast. Fruit salad, bacon, eggs pancakes and so much more decorated the table.

You heard the bedroom door open and you saw her walk out, she glanced at the table

"I'm not hungry" was all she said and she walked out the front door.

You were shattered.

Since that day everything you did was wrong.

You couldn't clean right.

Her fingers ran along the cupboard, and she looked at you with a frown.

"Can you not clean right? Should i get a maid? Because you cant do shit"

you couldn't do the laundry right.

you stood in the doorway watching Ellie fit on her suit. She looked herself in the mirror before she made eye contact with you.

"It's still wrinkled and there's a stain" she pointed out.

"fix it" was all she said before she threw the clothes on the floor.

You couldn't even cook right.

Ellie only had one spoon of her food before she pushed her plate to the side

"what's wrong?" you asked

"this is disgusting"

it hurts. Every insult Ellie hurled at you hurt.

You knew she was stressed but it didn't give her the right to take her stress out on you.

One night you tried talking to Ellie. But she didn't want to. She didn't have energy for this.

"Don't you have a house to clean? Oh wait you can't even do that right" she said through a chuckle.

You snapped.

You let out a scream as you grabbed the lamp on your side of the bed. You jumped onto the bed, and you shit her over and over again.

"I"

*hit

"am"

*hit

"the perfect"

*hit

"housewife" you yelled.

Blood littered the walls, and your hands. Heavy breathes left your mouth as you looked at the scene.

"Oh Ellie I'm sorry! This room is filthy! I'll clean it"

you scrubbed the walls, you changed the bedding and you gave her a bath.

Everything was back to normal. It was all clean.

You looked at her decomposing body. She looked peaceful and she wasn't being mean anymore.

This was the girl you fell in love with.

You gave her a kiss on the forehead before you muttered "its time for breakfast" and you left the room to start making your girl breakfast.

You weren't sure how long you were going to get away with this, but for the time being you were happy.

She was better dead anyway.

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

☆ Ellie starts wanting a baby years before she tells you. She doesn’t want to push. But god—she aches to see you round and glowing.

☆ She starts watching documentaries on child development “for work.” You catch her crying during one where a toddler says “mama.”

☆ She writes about generational memory in one of her lectures. But all she’s really thinking is: what will our child inherit from us?

☆ Her obsession turns tender when she starts sketching you as a mother. Always with a soft smile. Always holding a baby that has her freckles.

☆ She kisses your stomach even before there’s anything there. Whispers, “One day, okay? One day it’s gonna be you and me and them.”

☆ When she finally brings it up, it’s not even planned. You’re brushing your teeth and she just says: “I think I want to see you pregnant. Like… soon.”

☆ Ellie has spreadsheets. Timelines. Budget plans. She’s already read four peer-reviewed studies on IVF success rates.

☆ She insists you both go to the consultation together. She sits up straight. Takes notes. Holds your hand the entire time.

☆ She wants you to carry the baby. “You’re the heart. I’m just the idiot who fell first.”

☆ But if you say you want her to carry instead, she’ll agree in a heartbeat. As long as the baby’s ours. She doesn’t care whose blood. Just whose home.

☆ Ellie becomes obsessed with understanding every part of IVF. Hormones, egg retrieval, implantation timelines. She could teach a course by now.

☆ She schedules everything for you. Alarms. Calendar syncs. She’s even got backups if the power goes out.

☆ She brings a notebook to every appointment. Takes detailed notes and asks the doctor questions like she’s in a thesis defense.

☆ She cries the first time she sees the ultrasound of the fertilized embryo. It hasn’t even implanted yet. She’s already in love.

☆ She leaves sticky notes all over the apartment: “Drink water for them.” “Rest for them.” “I love both of you.”

☆ Ellie won’t let you lift a thing. “Let me,” she murmurs, grabbing grocery bags. “I’m doing this for them.”

☆ She talks to your belly even before implantation. “Hi, it’s me. The one who’ll embarrass you at soccer games.”

☆ She sets up the nursery the day after the positive test. You’re still in shock. Ellie’s already building a crib.

☆ She frames the first ultrasound. Carries it in her wallet. Kisses it when she misses you during lectures.

☆ Every student on campus knows you’re pregnant. Because Ellie won’t shut up about you. “My wife is growing life. What’d you do this week?”

☆ Ellie kisses your bump every morning like it’s ritual. Before brushing her teeth. Before breakfast. Before speaking.

☆ She reads to the baby. Lectures from her thesis. Sonnets. Journal entries about you.

☆ She updates her academic blog weekly about the “miracle of queer family-making.” All anonymously. But every post is full of you.

☆ She creates a playlist called “Songs for the Bump.” Track one is the song you danced to at your wedding.

☆ She sobs the first time she feels the baby kick. Full-body, trembling sobs. “They said hi. Did you feel that? They said hi!”

☆ Ellie becomes extra possessive in public. One stranger stares too long at your belly and she’s gripping your waist like a warning.

☆ She buys a fetal doppler monitor. She checks the heartbeat daily. Says it soothes her more than coffee.

☆ She makes the baby a custom stuffed dinosaur with your initials embroidered on it. “They’ll fall asleep with you before they even know your voice.”

☆ She’s at every check-up, every class, every session. If she can’t make it, she sends in a list of questions and Skypes in.

☆She talks to the bump like it’s already here. “We’re gonna have tea parties and talk about queer theory before you’re five, okay?”

☆ Ellie builds a rotating baby bookshelf by hand. Organized by age-appropriateness and genre.

☆ She writes a lullaby. Two versions: acoustic and violin. You catch her crying while recording the second.

☆ She attends parenting classes and brings three notepads. Her notes have subheadings and citations.

☆ She starts referring to herself as “Mama Ellie.” Even signs texts that way to you. “Do you want apples or pears? Love, Mama Ellie.”

☆ She keeps a pregnancy journal addressed to the baby. Starts each one: “Dear tiny scholar,”

☆ She makes a family crest. It has a book, a flower, and a dinosaur.

“This is who we are now.”

☆ She writes an academic paper on LGBTQ+ parenthood. And dedicates it: “To my wife and our soon-to-be reason to breathe.”

☆ She builds a playlist for labor. It starts with gentle indie, ends with your wedding vows in voice memo form.

☆ Ellie reads parenting blogs until 3am. Then wakes you up like, “Babe, did you know baby ears finish forming at 20 weeks?”

☆ She buys a tiny matching leather jacket for the baby. You didn’t even know they made them that small.

☆ Ellie stays calm—externally when you go into labor. Internally? She’s dying. Hyperventilating. “Is she okay? Is our baby okay?”

☆ She holds your hand and your leg. “Push, baby, you’ve got this—I’m here—I’ve got both of you.”

☆ The second the baby cries, she breaks. Drops to her knees. Sobs into your thigh. “She’s here. She’s here. She’s here.”

☆ She cuts the cord with trembling hands. Then kisses you, kisses the baby, kisses you again.

☆ it was a girl. The prettiest baby Ellie had ever seen. You named her: Aurora Bloom Williams

☆ She doesn’t sleep the first night. Just holds the baby against her chest and stares, whispering: "I’ve waited my whole life for you.”

☆ Ellie insists on skin-to-skin. “You were inside her. You were part of her. Let me hold that history.”

☆ She calls Aurora “little thesis.” “She’s proof. That love can be built. Studied. Protected.”

☆ Her phone is filled with photos—1,492 in the first week.

☆ She cries the first time she sees you breastfeeding. “You’re feeding our future. I don’t even have words.”

☆ She creates a lullaby version of your wedding song. Plays it every night while rocking the baby.

☆ Ellie refuses to work late anymore. “My whole world’s waiting at home. I’ve got nothing left to prove.”

☆ She makes flashcards for the baby before she's 6 months old. “Early stimulation is key, babe.”

☆ She tattoos the baby’s birthdate under her ribcage. Where you once carried her.

☆ Her office has a photo of the baby, you, and the first ultrasound. That’s her holy trinity.

☆ She kisses the baby’s forehead and says, “You have no idea how wanted you were.” Every. Single. Night.

☆ She gives the baby a “graduation ceremony” from tummy time. Cap, gown, little speech.

☆ She makes baby food from scratch. Then journals how each flavor went over.

☆ She makes you both matching shirts: “Professor Mama” / “Muse Mama” / “Tiny Intern”

☆ She introduces the baby to books like she’s meeting royalty. “This is The Very Hungry Caterpillar. You’ll love him.”

☆ She sobs at the first “mama.” “You heard that, right? That was me. That was me.”

☆ She wants another by year one. “We have room. And love. So much love.”

☆ She writes letters to the baby every birthday. Seals them in a box for their 18th.

☆ She never misses a milestone. First steps? She has a lecture cancelled.

☆ She paints a mural in the baby’s room. Night sky, constellations, dinosaurs. Your story.

☆ Ellie journals about motherhood. “This is the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”

☆ She teaches the baby to say “I love Mama and Mommy.” Cries every time.

☆ She celebrates you on Mother’s Day like a goddess. “You made life. You made me better.”

☆ She carries a picture of you both during lectures. “To remind me what all this is for.”

☆ At night, when the baby’s asleep, she whispers: “We made a life. And she made ours worth it.”

Idk if ur taking requests anymore, but I rly love ur stories! Could you do an Ellie x reader story based on the song together by beabadoobee? THANK UUU!!

Together (ellie williams x reader)

hi anon! thank you sm for the request, and for the compliment, i started giggling... i hope you enjoy this pookie <3

This story is based off the song Together by Beabadoobee, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

Requests are always open feel free to leave one! You can send me a song and I'll take it from there!

Warnings: toxic relationships, death, suicide and self harm and a little blasphemy

Summary: Your relationship was toxic, you both knew this... but yet both of you couldn't stay away from each other

wc: 1.7k

(If you want to be added to my tag list, just leave a comment so i can tag you in future work!)

Crash the car again

The same mistakes again

Don't wanna hurt you like I did

Screaming, crying, dishonesty. These were some of the words you used to describe you and Ellie’s relationship. It was unhealthy. It was toxic. Religious people would always quote that one bible verse where it says a dog would vomit and then it would go back to eat its vomit. The same way sinners would go back to sin. The same way you would go back to Ellie.

You and Ellie’s relationship hadn’t always been toxic, there were happy times too. The times she would come over and the two of you would watch a movie together, that one time Ellie snuck you out of Jackson to show you a dinosaur museum. You were happy. Very happy.

Until Joel died.

When Joel died Ellie changed. She became cold, distant.

 But you understood why. She was grieving.

And you truly did assume that eventually she’ll go back to normal. But then her obsession with finding Abby started. She left Jackson. You were broken.

Life without Ellie felt like a life without sunlight. There was no light. No joy. It was cold. You remembered the countless nights of you crying yourself to sleep. The nights you would reach over and touch the side of the bed Ellie lay on. It was always cold. The cold side of the bed was a painful reminder that she chose revenge over you.

But Ellie came back to Jackson.

You were happier than ever.  Because you waited for Ellie. You put your life on hold for her, because you couldn’t imagine a life without her.

Ellie changed. She became more aggressive. One second she would be ok the next moment she’d explode with anger. Hurtful words leaving her mouth. And that was when you decided to breakup with her, for the first time.

The breakup lasted 2 weeks. And you went back to her again. The arguments and lies got worse, and you left. For a second time. But not long after you came back. You would always come back.

That’s probably why you were standing outside Ellie’s house. The two of you had an argument 3 weeks ago. Ellie had lied to you about where she slept the previous night saying “don’t worry baby I’m going to Maria and Tommy” but you soon found out she went to her ex-girlfriend’s house.

She lied. You were hurt. You felt Betrayed. And you broke up with her again.

But you came back. You had to talk to Ellie.

But for the first time ever, you weren’t here to take Ellie back, you weren’t here to listen to her bullshit promises, you were here to say goodbye. You were her to end it all, so that you could be free from Ellie’s harsh words. You were doing this for yourself. And for the sake of your mental health.

You shakily reached for the door, your left had curling into a fist, you felt the wood on your knuckles as you lightly knocked.

The door flew open, revealing Ellie in all her glory. Her autumn brown hair is longer, reaching past her shoulders, dark circles covered the bottom of her beautiful eyes.

“Baby?” she asked softly eyes wide.

'Cause I'm not waiting for you

But I don't want to hurt you

Ellie knew Joel’s death affected her in more ways than one. She knew her mental health suffered because of his death. Out of everyone she hurt and killed the last person she wanted to cause any harm to was you. But it was as if she couldn’t stop herself from hurting you.

She couldn’t kill Abby because she knew it wouldn’t bring Joel back. She was filled with anger. Pain. Hatred and she didn’t know how to get it out. And there you were. Her soft and sweet girl, that waited for her.

In a way Ellie was jealous of you. How innocent you were. All the people she killed, everything she did to try and get Joel some justice, just made her dirty. And there you were. Ellie sometimes wondered why you wouldn’t just leave her. All she did was hurt you.

She wanted to make you feel what she felt all these months as she went after Abby. But yet you stayed. And that’s why she was so surprised to see you standing in front of her house with a small smile on your face.

“Hi els” you spoke softly; your eyes briefly fell to the floor as if you were preparing to tell her something. Something big. Something Important.

 After a few seconds your eyes met again, and you spoke once more; “we need to talk”

All alone again

It hurts my heart again

I think my blood is running thin

I'm away again

It hurts my head again

Don't wanna be away from your skin

As toxic as your relationship was, you both couldn’t stay away from each other. The countless times you and Ellie broke up, the two of you would sneak out to meet each other. Just to be in each other’s presence.

 Neither you or Ellie would never admit it: but you can’t live without each other. The two of you had built such a bond that you were both so incredibly dependent on the other for comfort. All the nights Ellie cried when you left her, all the days Ellie would plead and beg you to come back because she would change and she would be a better person. She really tried. But she couldn’t. Her past was haunting her. It traumatized her. Broke her beyond repair. When she looks at you the only thing she could imagine was all the people she had to kill. But at the same time she felt comforted by your smile.

Ellie was planning on changing but she doesn’t know how.

 How does one go back to the way they were before they watched their father figure get brutally murdered?

But you had other plans. There isn’t going to be a next time. You weren’t going to let Ellie say another word that will put you into another depressive episode. You had to end it all.

You sat across her, and Ellie felt like her heart was being ripped into a million pieces. It felt like her heart was shattered, and you were watching her bleed pout.

She had been shot, stabbed, but the pain of the words you muttered, hurts even more.

“Earth to Ellie” you said because she went silent. She zoned out thinking of all the ways she could try to get back together with you.

 “No” Ellie spoke “you can’t do this”

“I can” you said softly the room fell silent, the tension rising.

 “Ellie” you spoke again “we can never be together again” you started “you hurt me too much” and Ellie felt shame wash over her.

“I’m sorry” she said with a pleading look in her eyes “I’ll change” and Ellie watched you shake your head.

“You never fucking changed, what makes me think you’ll do it now?” you spoke harshly.

You got up and started walking towards the door. Ellie felt the tears running down her cheeks. She watched your figure walk towards the door. You didn’t even look back at her.

 “Goodbye Ellie”

Hurt myself again

I thought you'd notice it

Don't wanna fix it like you did

Your body was found on a Saturday morning. You were hanging from the roof. You had hung yourself. You didn’t leave a note. No one knows why you killed yourself. Your secrets died with you, the reason and the problems you faced, went to the grave with you. And this puzzled Ellie.

Why didn’t you tell her?

 Yes, your relationship was bad, but you could’ve told her. She would’ve helped you. She would’ve hurt those who harmed you.

Two days after your body was found your words ran in Ellie’s mind.

You keep hurting me….

It was her. Ellie was the problem. Ellie was the reason you felt so depressed that you ended your life.

 It was all her fault

She felt bad, guilty. She murdered you. She had your blood on her hands. Ellie didn’t deserve to be alive. The day of your funeral she watched as your body was lowered into the ground, Ellie’s loud sobs echoing across all of Jackson. Ellie wished that was her. She wished she was the one being buried because you didn’t deserve that. Ellie start hurting herself. She’d watch her blood drip onto her bed as she cut herself. She wishes she could give some of her blood to you. She wishes she could give life back to you. Her blood in exchange for your life. The way Jesus died on the cross to give us eternal life the same way she wanted to die. For you. To give you the life you deserved.

I think I'm okay by myself, I'm doing great

But we'd be better together, better together

Together though, together though, together again

Ellie thought your death would be good for her. Maybe if you weren’t there she’d be ok. But your death made everything worse for Ellie. She thought she could live in a world without you. She realized she couldn’t and as Ellie took her final breath as she lay on her bed bleeding out, she hoped that she would be reunited with you in the afterlife, that the two of you would finally be together.

 They say death separates people. Death rips families and relationships apart. And that’s what Joel’s death did to you and Ellie’s relationship. His death ruined the only good thing both of you had left. But now that both you and Ellie have passed away, she hoped that her death might bring you back together. For your souls to be intertwined.

Ellie hoped that if God was real that he would take pity on her and forgive her sins. That He let the two of you be together in the afterlife. That death would bring you closer. And that you’d be together forever.

Authors note: Sorry for going MIA again, life has been kinda messy rn, but I promise I’ll try and get more stories out soon, to all the requests in my inbox, I swear I’ll write your stories soon. Remember you are loved and my requests are always open!!

Yours truly

Zia <3

can you talk more about ellie’s grading and the feedback she gives? i wanna know how intellectual she is insane iq core 💔💔💔

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

☆ Ellie uses red pens exclusively—not out of malice, but because she thinks it forces you to really see yourself. Her notes aren’t just critiques, they’re personal. “You know this theory, stop playing small” scrawled in the margins feels more like a confession than advice.

☆ She’s the professor everyone is a little scared of until they actually talk to her. Intense in lecture, terrifyingly smart—but she softens when she talks one-on-one. Her voice lowers, her eyes track yours as if she’s cataloguing your brain. She listens like your thoughts matter.

☆ If she sees potential in you, your returned paper ends up looking like a co-written piece. Whole blocks of her handwriting argue or build on your points, sometimes more verbose than your actual body paragraphs.

☆ Her most devastating feedback is always kind. “You hesitated here—why?” or “Don’t dilute a brilliant argument to make it sound ‘acceptable’.” You leave her office hours feeling like you just got psychoanalyzed and inspired.

☆ You notice she always returns your papers last. When you joke about it, she just says, “Yours require more... attention.” Her gaze lingers too long after. You think maybe she’s memorizing your arguments—or your face.

☆ You show up early. She pretends to be annoyed but always saves your favorite chair. Sometimes you catch her looking at your hands while you talk. She taps her pen when she’s holding back something.

☆ “Your phrasing here? Lethal. That’s how you cut through academic fluff.” It’s high praise from Ellie, but it feels like she’s talking about more than your essay.

☆ You don’t know this, but the first time you absolutely killed a complex theory with original thought, she kept a copy. She rereads it sometimes when she’s stuck in her own writing. She’d never tell you—but it’s annotated in the margins with her own thoughts. Like a conversation.

☆ She’ll slide your graded paper toward you and say, “Nice work,” before walking off. You find a sticky note inside later that says:

“Your logic here is brutal. You’d make a terrifying debater. You should come to my next seminar. If you're free.”

☆ If you ever push back on one of her comments (politely), she’ll go silent for a beat too long. Then she’ll smirk, lean back in her chair, and say, “Fair point.” But you catch the flush on her neck.

☆ When you lend her a book you love, she gives it back full of tabs and handwritten notes. Her handwriting shifts depending on emotion: neat when she agrees, sharp when she’s frustrated, small and slanted when something hit her too hard.

☆ She reads between the lines—not just in your essays, but in how you speak. If your writing suddenly lacks fire, she’ll ask, “What happened to your voice?” with more concern than she lets on.

☆ She has a private Spotify playlist titled after your most compelling paper. It’s full of moody, ambient instrumentals that make her think of you pacing a library aisle.

☆ Gives You Optional Extra Assignments That Are Secretly Dates “Analyze this journal article if you want... I’ll be in my office at 6.” She gives you wine after hours and calls it a discussion session.

☆ She never says it aloud, but in her mind, she calls you “Bright girl” or “My sharp one.” Sometimes those almost slip out.

☆ Has a Folder of Your Work. Digitally and physically. Not just because you’re a good student, but because she thinks you're one of the most important thinkers she's taught. It’s her little shrine.

☆ Can't Hide Her Pride When You Speak in Class. Even when she’s trying to stay composed, her eyes flicker with excitement when you raise your hand. Sometimes she smirks when you quote her back to herself.

☆ Touches Her Lip When She Reads Your Work. She doesn’t notice she does this. But whenever a line of yours punches through her, she’ll sit back, pen to her mouth, eyebrows slightly raised, like she’s just been got.

☆ Notices Your Scent. Once, you leaned over her desk and the smell of your perfume clung to her sweater. She wore it again the next day—“by accident.”

☆ You once mentioned a quote from a female philosopher you admire, and Ellie responded a little too coldly. Later you found your copy of that author’s book in her office—full of her annotations. She's studying your mind through what you love.

☆ Writes Feedback That’s Basically Poetry. Sometimes her comments feel like verses. “You bent truth until it screamed—good. Now own it.” You don’t know if she’s flirting or just brilliant.

☆ You Catch Her Staring at You During Lectures. She’ll be mid-lecture and pause just a second too long on you. It makes your stomach flip. She always looks away first.

☆ Hates Giving You Anything Below an A. If your work ever slips, she spends forever writing the feedback. It pains her to mark you down—but she refuses to baby you. You’d never respect her if she did.

☆ Has Dreams About Debating You. Sometimes she jolts awake after a dream where you out-argued her in front of a whole academic panel. She was proud and a little turned on.

☆ Knows Your Favorite Pen. She keeps a matching one in her desk drawer. She says it’s coincidence. It’s not.

☆ She’s the Only One Allowed to Critique You. If someone else in class makes a dismissive comment about your work, Ellie will eviscerate them—politely, devastatingly. You leave class blushing. They leave in silence.

☆ She Has Your Writing Style Memorized. If someone read her a passage of your work out loud, she’d know it was yours immediately—by cadence, syntax, and how you handle commas like you’re carving something open.

☆ Her Voice Softens When She Says Your Name. Even when she’s frustrated or passionate, your name is the one word that always comes out gentle. A pause in a storm.

☆ Writes You Into Her Lectures. Without naming you, she’ll quote your paper in front of the class. “A student once said something that stuck with me…” She knows you know it’s you.

☆ She’d Risk Her Career for You. She hasn't yet. But she’s thought about it. Late at night, with one of your essays open in her lap, wondering if knowing someone’s mind this intimately should feel like falling.

Maybe another dark toxic ellie oneshot in the future

Laundry - (ellie williams x reader)

your wish is my command, i hope you like it, i tried not to make it toooo toxic <3

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts:)

warnings: toxic relationships, face spitting

Summary: In which you didn't fold the laundry

authors note: prepare to be sick of me because i have so many drafts

masterlist

imagine you and ellie had a huge argument earlier that day about unfolded laundry.

Ellie had woken up in a grumpier mood than usual, her eyes burning from the sunlight shining into your shared room. With a groan, Ellie got up, shivering as her feet touched the cold floor.

She got up, walking with her eyes closed, but she tripped over a pile of laundry that was left on the floor.

"Fucking-" she swore as she held her ankle.

You ran into the room, hearing the noise from downstairs. The scene was almost comedic: Ellie hunched over mumbling curse words to herself as she held her angle.

"Els..." you whispered, holding in your laugh.

"You" she said softly as her head snapped in your direction.

"Can you not clean properly?"

Your brows furrowed at her question.

"Ellie its your clothes-"

"i work all fucking day. All Fucking day, and i let you stay at home. I provide you look after the place. I expect you to fold my laundry. How would you feel if i stopped paying the bills?"

She did this often. She liked reminding you that she was the in charge. She was the one providing and you were nothing more than a stay at home girlfriend.

"Ellie-"

"get the fuck out"

You listened, like the dog you were. You ran out the room like a dog with it's tail between it's legs.

Ellie came out the room a while later, she didn't look at you she didn't acknowledge you.

You hated when she did that.

And she knew you hated it.

You had to get her attention somehow. You knew just what to do.

The sun had set, Ellie came home walking right past you, she didn't even utter a "hi".

She sat on the couch, probably responding to Dina's texts.

"I want to break up" you suddenly spoke. You prayed that this would work. You could never leave, but you knew this would get a reaction out of her.

"What?"

"you heard me"

she threw her phone to the side and she got up walking towards you. You felt her cold fingers grip your face

"you're not fucking leaving me" she was close.

So close. You could smell her cologne. You could count her freckles.

You won this round. Both of you knew that.

You felt her grip tighten on your chin and you let out a yelp. This would probably leave bruises.

"the day you try to leave me is the day your dead body will be found, so don't even think about it"

You knew she was serious. Ellie doesn't play when it comes to things like that. You knew she was just reminding you who was in control and you liked it.

You were probably just as sick as she was.

She let go of your space and she spat onto your face.

"You make me sick" was all she said before she walked away.

You watched her walk into the kitchen as you wiped off your face, she didn't even look at you as she opened the fridge. All she said was: "Go fold the laundry baby"

And you did just that.

<3