Can You Do Hcs Of Ellie Williams Taking Care Of Sick Reader :)

maybe just normal ellie universe or prof ellie just being obessed with readers wedding ring?? and whenever she holds her hand she’s plays with the ring and just happy that they are together forever??

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

☆ Ellie doesn’t just glance at your wedding ring—she studies it. Every etch, every glint in the light. It’s a symbol she reveres, like a sacred artifact.

☆ When you’re sitting beside her at a faculty mixer, Ellie laces your fingers with hers under the table, thumb rubbing over the ring absentmindedly. Her lectures may dominate the room, but her mind is tangled up in you.

☆ In the quiet morning hours, when the coffee brews and you’re still in pajamas, she takes your hand across the kitchen table and kisses the ring. She always whispers, “still mine,” like she can’t believe it.

☆ During lectures, Ellie will catch herself staring at her own ring, then smile softly knowing yours matches. Her students just assume she’s daydreaming—if only they knew.

☆ She spins the ring slowly on your finger when you're lying on her chest at night, saying things like, “you have no idea how much I needed you.”

☆ She touches it when she's nervous—during parent-teacher meetings, high-stress grading seasons, or conferences. Like a talisman, it grounds her.

☆ Ellie once dropped her notes mid-lecture because she spotted your hand waving from the back of the hall, wedding ring catching the light. She grinned like a lovesick fool.

☆ She’s memorized the way the ring leaves a faint indent in your skin after a long day. That little mark is her favorite imprint in the world.

☆ If you fall asleep on the couch, Ellie will bring a blanket and sit beside you, quietly taking your hand and just playing with the ring while watching you breathe.

☆ Ellie doesn’t let anyone else touch your left hand—not out of jealousy, but reverence. That hand, to her, is the proof of everything she’s ever fought for.

☆ Ellie always insists on walking on your left side, so she can keep her hand over yours and rub your ring with her thumb.

☆ At university galas or fundraisers, she doesn’t flaunt your relationship—she just softly touches your ring every few minutes. A secret shared between just the two of you.

☆ She once got visibly irritated when a colleague complimented your outfit but didn’t acknowledge the ring. “Pretty sure that ring’s the best thing she’s wearing,” she muttered.

☆ If anyone flirts with you, even innocently, Ellie’s hand slides into yours with practiced ease, thumb circling the ring until the message is clear.

☆ Whenever she introduces you, she says, “This is my wife,” with pride. But her hand always lands gently on the ring as she says it.

☆ When you’re out and about, and she sees your ring catch the sun, Ellie will lean in and whisper, “That sparkle’s nothing compared to you.”

☆ She absolutely loses her mind when you leave the ring at home for cleaning or repairs—she’ll check your hand like something’s missing.

☆ Ellie’s phone background is a zoomed-in photo of your hand in hers—your ring front and center. You didn’t even know until she showed a student once by accident.

☆ At the bookstore, she pretends to look at novels, but she’s watching you pick up a coffee, your ring catching in the light, and she falls in love all over again.

☆ She’ll joke about how she “won the jackpot” every time she sees the ring glint. But there’s truth beneath the teasing.

☆ When you’re reading together on the couch, she’ll take your hand and kiss each knuckle—lingering on the one with the ring.

☆ She buys you hand lotion just because it makes your skin extra soft and makes the ring shine brighter. Ellie swears it’s purely aesthetic… she’s lying.

☆ She once had a miniature sketch of your hand with the ring tattooed on her ribs. You found out by accident. She just said, “Had to carry it forever too.”

☆ After arguments, she doesn’t apologize with flowers. She comes quietly, kisses your ring, and says, “This still means something, right?”

☆ When you’re brushing your teeth, she stands behind you, arms around your waist, and gently strokes your ring hand. Always soft, always present.

☆ Ellie once had a full panic because you misplaced the ring. She turned the apartment upside down, near tears, until you found it in the laundry basket.

☆ She keeps your wedding ring’s box on her nightstand. Not for any real reason—just because it’s a piece of the day she can’t let go of.

☆ When you two slow dance in the living room, she holds your left hand in hers like it’s made of glass. The ring glimmers in the dim light and she calls it her favorite star.

☆ If she wakes up in the middle of the night and you’re not wearing it, she’ll gently put it back on you like a ritual.

☆ Every anniversary, she stares at the ring and says some variation of, “Can you believe you said yes?”

☆ She’s read three books on the history of wedding rings just because yours fascinates her so much. She sends you random facts. “Did you know ancient Egyptians—”

☆ She has a journal where she’s written multiple entries about the first time she slipped the ring on your finger. She's never shown you.

☆ She once used your ring as an example in her class when talking about cultural symbolism. No one else knew it was yours.

☆ She draws you in her sketchbook constantly—but your left hand with the ring is always the focal point.

☆ Ellie uses it as a grounding tool. When she’s anxious, she’ll find your hand, spin the ring slowly, and whisper things like, “I’m okay. You’re here.”

☆ She gets jealous of her own past self—sometimes looking at the ring and thinking, why didn’t I meet her sooner?

☆ She planned her entire proposal around the kind of ring she thought you deserved—classic, durable, with a tiny inscription only she knows about.

☆ She made you swear to never take it off unless you absolutely have to. She calls it “proof of the best thing I ever did.”

☆ Ellie can tell when someone notices your ring and doesn’t say anything. She’ll bring it up herself. “Yeah, she’s married. To me.”

☆ She dreams about the wedding day often—and wakes up clutching your hand like she’s afraid it’ll vanish.

☆ Ellie sees it as a physical manifestation of everything she thought she’d never have—love, safety, family.

☆ She once told you, “This ring means I get to wake up next to you forever. That’s more than I ever thought I’d deserve.”

☆ She kisses your hand before every trip, every conference, every long class. “This means you’ll be waiting when I get back.”

☆ She freaked out when it got scratched once, immediately going online to figure out how to fix it herself.

☆ To her, your ring is a beacon. If you’re ever across the room, that’s how she finds you.

☆ When she thinks about growing old, the only constant image in her mind is your wrinkled hand, still wearing the ring.

☆ Ellie once cried—genuinely cried—after seeing you absentmindedly touch the ring while smiling at her. It was too intimate, too overwhelming.

☆ She once traced it while you were asleep and whispered, “You’re mine. You chose me.” Over and over.

☆ She calls it her favorite piece of jewelry, even though she doesn’t wear much herself.

☆ She gets overly protective when strangers comment on it. “Yeah, she’s married. Yeah, to me. What of it?”

☆ You fidget with it when you’re shy. Ellie notices every time, and it makes her heart squeeze.

☆ She’s caught herself doodling the ring design in the margins of her lecture notes.

☆ Sometimes she talks to it when you're not around. “You’re all I’ve got when she’s gone. Keep her safe.”

☆ She took a picture of it while you were napping with your hand on her chest. It’s her phone lock screen now.

☆ You once joked about upgrading the ring, and Ellie immediately panicked. “No. That one’s… that one’s ours.”

☆ Ellie insists on holding your ring hand when you go to sleep. She says it helps her breathe better.

☆ Every time she writes “Mrs. Williams” on an envelope, she glances at the ring after sealing it.

☆ She wants your daughter to inherit it someday—but part of her can’t imagine ever letting it go.

☆ Sometimes, in bed, she whispers, “That ring made me whole.”

☆ And no matter what happens—bad day, fight, distance—Ellie never lets go of that hand. Because the ring reminds her: she’s yours, and you’re hers. Forever.

okokokok but what abt ellie taking care of long-kinda curly hair! reader? like, reader also wants her to help, specially when washing it, cumbing and use dryer

this' me btw if u even care

Wash day - (ellie williams x reader)

Hi poookieeee!! As someone with very curly hair this was needed, i hope you enjoy <33 also hello kitty??? my favorite type of kitty tbh

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts

warnings: none

Summary: in which she helps you with your hair

authors note: ugh i found out that ill only know if i got into uni in November, i'm going insane

masterlist

Ellie watched as you walked all over your shared apartment.

You walked from room to room grabbing different bottles of things she wasn't sure of. She heard you mumbling as you continued to grab towels and more bottles.

Ellie got up and she gently grabbed your wrist "baby slow down"

you looked at her with a small smile

"i cant slow down now, i need to start so i have enough time to finish"

Ellie raised an eyebrow "to finish what?"

"Its wash hair day"

She looked at the bottles to see hair products and other items. You removed yourself from Ellie's gentle grip before taking all the products into your arms.

"i would love to stand and watch you stare at all my stuff but i really want to start with my hair"

In all the months that the two of you have been together Ellie has never seen you do your hair. You would go into the bathroom and you'd come out with your natural curls after a few hours.

Ellie loved when you wore your hair naturally, but she also knew how much work it takes to maintain your hair.

"I want to help you"

You looked at her, jaw slightly ajar.

None of your partners has ever offered to help, they actually always had a problem with how long it took you to finish. But Ellie always told you to take your time, she bought whatever you needed, she was different.

It was the bare minimum but because no one has ever done this, you were taken back by this gesture.

god you really loved this girl

"Yeah" you quickly cleared your throat.

Ellie followed you to the bathroom and you quickly gave her a rundown of everything that needed to happen.

Wash, products, style, dry

It sounded simple to Ellie but when she saw everything you had set up, she knew that would be a long process.

Ellie sat on the edge of the tub as you went onto your knees, a smirk appeared on her face.

"oh so we're doing something else?"

you rolled your eyes "ew no. You're washing my hair"

Ellie chuckled as you rolled your eyes.

You shuffled closer to the tub and you leaned forward, so that just your hair was in the tub.

Ellie grabbed the shower head and she brought it to your head. As the water droplets fell onto your hair, it immediately curled even more than it already was.

After a few minutes you instructed Ellie to put a hair mask on. She gently squeezed the thick mixture onto her hand and she applied it to your scalp.

You almost moaned at how good she was massaging you. She had very skilled fingers so she knew what she was going.

"Just like that els" you sighed she chuckled.

"You normally say that to me when-"

"no"

Ellie let out a laugh before rinsing your hair.

She followed all the instructions you gave her when it came to applying shampoo, conditioner, she even checked the temperature of the water, like you told her.

After everything you got up and you gently wrapped your hair in a towel.

You kissed her forehead "thank you els"

You started to make your way to the bedroom.

"Where are you going?" she asked

"To finish my hair"

"i wanna come"

"then come"

She happily followed you to the room and she watched you from the edge of the bed.

"When can i help?"

"Let me do this part myself ok? You can help me dry it"

Ellie nodded watching you intently.

She watched you apply more product to your hair. You applied curl cream, some weird clear gel Ellie has never heard of, you even applied different oils.

Holy shit is it really this complicated to have curly hair?

"Come on Ellie" you suddenly called.

You scrunched your hair a little and you gave her a hairdryer.

You showed her exactly how to do it. She grabbed the dryer and she started from top to the bottom, just like you showed her.

You smiled as you looked at her in the mirror, she has a focused look on her face, her tongue slightly sticking out.

After 20 minutes she was done and she took a step back admiring her work.

You got up and turned to her and she gave you a smile.

"you look pretty"

"thank you baby"

You walked towards her and you gave her a kiss on the cheek. Ellie pulled out her phone and she grabbed your hand

"lets take pictures"

"why?"

"i want to remember the day i did your hair"

"Aren't you tired if my hair yet?"

"i love your hair"

<3

- Master List ☆

about me!

- Ellie Williams

- Abby Anderson

- Dina ???

"i would say i love you but saying it out loud is hard."

ellie with gf reader who speaks another language and gets flustered and cute when she starts talking in her language and gets all shy when reader calls her pet names in her language??

Headcannons: simp!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

authors note: I speak 4 languages. Hebrew, English, Afrikaans and Portuguese. I also understand some Zulu and Xhosa. My natural instinct was to write something in one of these languages but i stopped myself lmao.

It's up to the reader to decide what language you talk!! I kept it as neutral as possible:)

part 2

☆ You speak your native language casually around Ellie without realizing it sometimes—and she just melts when you do.

☆ Ellie doesn’t understand everything, but she definitely knows when you're talking about her—she can tell by your smirk.

☆ She gets caught off guard the first time you call her a pet name in your language. “What did you just say?” she asks, blushing immediately.

☆ You tease her by refusing to translate unless she kisses you.

☆ Ellie starts noticing patterns—tones, facial cues, soft inflections—and slowly deciphers your “love” voice.

☆ She begs you to teach her basic phrases but forgets them constantly—except the ones you say while kissing her.

☆ She looks up your language when you’re not around, trying to memorize the pet names you use for her.

☆ Ellie turns bright red every time she hears you whisper anything in your language, even if it’s innocent.

☆ You once called her “my heart” in your native tongue, and she couldn’t stop smiling for hours.

☆ Ellie pretends she’s cool about it but literally rewinds voice messages to hear you say that one phrase again.

☆ The first time you call her something like “amor” or “ma vie”, she chokes on her drink.

☆ If you ever use a diminutive, like a cute baby-talk form of her name, Ellie completely shuts down. Brain short-circuited.

☆ You whisper a sultry nickname into her ear at a party, and she instantly goes quiet and red-faced.

☆ Ellie doesn’t even ask what it means anymore—just tugs you closer and hides her face in your shoulder.

☆ You say “good morning, beautiful” in your language while half-asleep, and she genuinely forgets how to form a sentence.

☆ Ellie’s weak spot? When you say “my girl” in your language, then kiss her temple.

☆ If you say it while laughing? Game over. She’s gone. Putty.

☆ The moment you use a nickname in public, Ellie goes wide-eyed and blushes to her ears.

☆ You once casually said it over the phone, and Jesse teased her for hours because she started stammering and pacing.

☆ If you say a pet name mid-argument? Instant truce. Ellie’s too dazed to keep fighting.

☆ She downloads Duolingo after one flirty nickname and keeps streaks religiously.

☆ Ellie practices saying your name with your accent in the mirror when you’re not home.

☆ She asks you for pet names she can call you—and fumbles the pronunciation every time.

☆ Once, she accidentally said a dirty word instead of “baby” and you laughed so hard she didn’t recover for ten minutes.

☆ She writes your pet names in her sketchbook like they’re little poems.

☆ Ellie watches foreign films in your language just to “get used to the sounds.”

☆ She points to things and says the name of them in your language—like a toddler learning to speak.

☆ Ellie practices rolling her R’s or changing intonation for days until she gets it right—just to impress you.

☆ She gets super proud when she strings together even a basic sentence in your language.

☆ When she finally says a pet name correctly, she looks to you for praise like a golden retriever.

☆ You switch into your language when you’re half-asleep, and Ellie answers anyway, as if she understands.

☆ You label things around the apartment in both languages. Ellie uses it to quiz herself.

☆ She secretly renames contacts in your phone to match their names in your language.

☆ When you’re sick, she murmurs the few phrases she knows—“rest,” “I got you,” “love you”—with clumsy pronunciation and pure heart.

☆ Ellie talks to your pets in your language, like “come here, little one” with the worst accent imaginable.

☆ She types “how do I say ‘I miss you’ in [language]” into Google when you’re gone for a few days.

☆ Ellie loves when you get frustrated in your language—it’s passionate and raw and reminds her how brilliant you are.

☆ She keeps your texts and rereads the ones in your language even if she only knows what half of them mean.

☆ You playfully insult her in your language and she still blushes like you just proposed.

☆ If you're mad and speak fully in your language, Ellie just sits there and takes it because she lowkey loves hearing it.

☆ You surprise her in the morning with a kiss and a softly spoken pet name—she covers her face with a pillow.

☆ You once called her “my love” in public and she had to physically walk away for a second to cool off.

☆ You say “mine” in your native tongue while gripping her waist and Ellie’s knees go weak.

☆ Whisper something in your language against her neck, and Ellie just melts into a puddle of incoherent affection.

☆ You say a pet name right before she’s about to leave for work—she ends up forgetting her keys, phone, and dignity.

☆ When you introduce her to friends or family and call her something sweet in your language, she stiffens up like a statue—then blushes for an hour.

☆ If you ever use a nickname when you're annoyed (like sarcastically), it flusters her even more—"Don't make that cute when you're mad."

☆ The first time she overhears you talking about her on the phone and hears a flirty nickname, she’s just—done. Gone. Face in her hands.

☆ You once moaned a pet name during sex and Ellie physically froze for a moment, overwhelmed.

☆ She secretly records a video of you saying her favorite nickname and listens to it when she misses you.

☆ Ellie asks you to say it again when you call her something sweet mid-cuddle—then buries her face into your chest.

☆ She loves lying in bed while you softly murmur in your language against her skin.

☆ You write her a birthday card using both languages, and she tears up at the familiar pet name scribbled at the end.

☆ Ellie can’t stop smiling when you whisper something affectionate to her in your language after sex—it grounds her, makes her feel yours.

☆ She gets really flustered when you start talking dirty in your language but don’t translate.

☆ You once said a full love confession in your language while looking into her eyes—and she cried even without knowing every word.

☆ When you teach her how to say “I love you” properly, she holds onto it like a treasure.

☆ If she messes up the pronunciation of your name or a word, you kiss her anyway—and she gets all flustered and giddy.

☆ She tries to surprise you with a sentence she memorized from your language, but it’s jumbled and adorable.

☆ You once made her a playlist of love songs in your native tongue, and now she associates certain phrases with your voice and scent.

☆ Ellie gets super curious about how your culture uses language differently—like how tone or phrasing reflects love.

☆ When she meets your family or old friends and hears them use your pet name for her, she nearly short-circuits.

☆ You give her a nickname that’s untranslatable—a word that means more than English ever could—and she cherishes it quietly.

☆ Ellie doodles your pet name with little hearts next to it in her notebook when she’s bored in meetings.

☆ If you're upset and switch to your language because you're flustered, Ellie just hugs you and whispers, “Say it again... just like that.”

☆ She jokes about getting it tattooed on her somewhere secret—but she’s 100% serious.

☆ Ellie introduces you to people and says, “This is my girlfriend,” then adds the pet name under her breath with a dumb smile.

☆ You once wrote her a love letter in your language. She didn’t understand it until you translated—then she reread it every day for a week.

☆ Ellie has a contact name for you in her phone that’s just the pet name in your language. With a stupid amount of hearts.

☆ Years later, she still gets butterflies when you lean in and whisper her nickname—because it never stopped being magic to her.

Headcannons: ceo!abby anderson x fem!reader

masterlist

☆ Abby is the kind of CEO who commands a room the moment she walks in. Tailored suits, sharp jawline, low voice that cuts through the noise. People either fear her or fall in love with her—there’s no in-between.

☆ She didn’t inherit the company; she built her reputation through blood, sweat, and an iron will. Everyone knows the rumors: military background, strategic acquisitions, never smiles unless she’s already won.

☆ In meetings, she’s precise, no-nonsense. Employees scramble to meet deadlines because the idea of disappointing her is terrifying—but deep down, they respect her. She’s fair. She rewards loyalty, effort, and genius when she sees it.

☆ You work in one of the departments she rarely pays attention to—PR, internal communications, or perhaps you're an executive assistant brought in as a temp to cover someone’s maternity leave.

☆ She notices you because you’re not intimidated by her. You’re polite but blunt, you don’t fawn over her like others do. And when she gives you a task, you complete it perfectly—without needing a follow-up.

☆ The first time she really looks at you is when you correct a minor detail in one of her public statements. She stares at you for a beat too long, then nods. That’s when it all started.

☆ Abby is all control—she’s used to people submitting, obeying. But you? You don’t give her that satisfaction easily. It drives her insane and fascinates her at the same time.

☆ She tries to keep it professional, but her restraint cracks. She starts showing up near your desk more often than necessary, asking for “updates” she could have emailed about.

☆ You make her feel off-balance, and Abby hates being off-balance—but she keeps coming back for it.

☆ When the relationship starts, it’s secret. Very secret. Her rules: no one knows, no workplace displays, and absolutely no compromising your career because of her.

☆ But it doesn’t take long before those lines blur. She touches your wrist in meetings. She defends you publicly. She gets jealous when other execs talk to you.

☆ Abby’s bedroom persona is different—still dominant, but reverent. Like she’s worshipping something she doesn’t think she deserves.

☆ She tries to be gentle, but her hands are rough, and her need is overwhelming. She’ll press you into soft sheets in her penthouse, hair loose, voice husky as she murmurs your name like a prayer.

☆ Aftercare is where her walls drop: she wraps you in her arms, kisses your forehead, brushes your hair back. She doesn’t say much, but the way she holds you says it all.

☆ You’re the only person who’s seen Abby cry. It happened once after a brutal boardroom betrayal. You found her sitting alone in her office at 1AM, hands shaking, eyes red. She didn’t send you away.

☆ She doesn’t let anyone touch her unless she initiates—except you. If you brush your hand over hers during a bad day, she visibly relaxes. No one else has that power.

☆ She trusts you with her past. Military trauma, the father she lost, the fear of turning into a machine. You’re her anchor.

☆ Abby doesn’t get petty jealous—but if someone flirts with you at a company party, she’s by your side in seconds. Hand on your lower back, icy stare, soft command in your ear: “Come with me.”

☆ If you’re ever hurt, dismissed, or undermined at work, Abby becomes an unstoppable force. “They don’t work here anymore,” she’ll say flatly, her protectiveness quiet and lethal.

☆ Sends you flowers “anonymously” that somehow end up in the executive suite with your name on them.

☆ Leaves sticky notes on your monitor with short notes: “You killed it today.” “Dinner tonight, 8PM.” “Proud of you.”

☆ Hires a private chef for your birthday but insists on cooking breakfast herself the next morning in nothing but a shirt and boxers.

☆ Keeps a framed candid photo of you in her locked drawer. You don’t know about it, but she looks at it on the hardest days.

☆ Eventually, you’re not a secret anymore. Abby makes it public in her own way: attending a gala with you on her arm, no apology in her eyes.

☆ She promotes you—not because of your relationship, but because you’re damn good at what you do. She makes sure no one can question your worth.

☆ Talks about retirement one day. Not to quit, but to slow down. “Maybe we’ll move somewhere quieter,” she murmurs against your neck. “Somewhere with a garden.”

☆ You knew Abby loved her diary. She wrote everything in there, every emotion, every high and every low. You were never allowed to read it, until one day you were alone in her room you decided to take a peek:

January 3rd

11:47 PM – Office

I saw her again today.

Same desk. Same quiet smile. Same nerve to look me dead in the eye without flinching.

I shouldn’t notice. I shouldn’t care.

But I do. And it’s starting to piss me off.

-

February 9th

1:15 AM – Penthouse

She corrected me. In front of the team.

Tactfully. Respectfully. But it was still a correction.

And god, it turned me on.

What the hell is wrong with me?

-

March 2nd

10:06 PM – Gym Locker Room

She wore her hair up today. It pulled her features tighter, more severe. And yet, all I wanted to do was tug it loose and see her fall apart.

I made up a reason to call her into my office.

Five minutes of conversation about a report I didn’t read.

Her voice lingers longer than it should.

-

March 16th

12:22 AM – Office (again)

I touched her hand today.

Not by accident. Not in passing.

I could feel the pulse in her wrist—fast, unsure.

She didn’t pull away.

Neither did I.

I’m crossing lines now. I know it.

I don’t want to stop.

-

April 4th

2:02 AM – Bedroom

She kissed me first.

That’s what I’ll tell myself, even if I know it’s a lie.

We were in the elevator, alone. I leaned in. Maybe too close. She looked at me like she’d already forgiven the mistake I hadn’t made yet.

I kissed her like I hadn’t wanted anything else in years.

And she kissed me back.

I’m fucked.

-

April 22nd

3:35 AM – After she fell asleep

She sleeps like she trusts me.

That should terrify me.

Instead, I’m scared of how badly I want to earn it.

-

May 11th

11:11 PM – Office

Saw her laughing with one of the interns. I hated how it made me feel.

Possessive. Petty. Animal.

I smiled when she glanced over, but I wanted to drag her away and remind her who she belongs to.

No. Not "belongs."

That’s not right. She’s not mine.

But I’m hers.

And I don’t think she even knows it.

-

May 27th

9:49 PM – Her Apartment

She made dinner. It was bad. I ate every bite.

She looked so proud.

When she leaned over to kiss me, all I could think was: I’ve gone soft.

Then she whispered she loves me.

And just like that, I broke.

-

June 5th

Midnight – Private Jet

I’m bringing her to the gala. Publicly. No more secrets.

Let them talk. Let them guess.

She’s not a scandal.

She’s the only real thing I have.

-

July 1st

10:10 PM – Lake House (weekend getaway)

She made me promise I’d rest.

No emails. No meetings.

She’s outside reading a book right now. Feet in the water. Hair wind-blown.

I’m watching her through the window.

And for the first time in a long time, I feel... free.

Maybe love isn’t a weakness.

Maybe it’s the only reason I’ve survived this long.

Idk if you're taking requests but if so can you write a kinda angsty fanfic where the reader is insecure asf about her looks and is jealous of bestfriend!Ellie because Ellie is so pretty. And as she's gotten older the reader has learned to be less jealous (or just suppressed the feeling) but like one day her jealousy is revealed when her and Ellie are drinking together and like ellie is shocked because she's always found the reader cute. THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME 😋

Drunk Words, Sober Eyes - ellie williams x reader

Hi anon!! this idea sounds so cool!! i went back and forth between giving it a happy ending or a sad one. I wanted to kill off a character honestly. But on this rare occasion, let me write something happy lmao. lmk if you want another version:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts

Warning: a little angst

Summary: in which you confessed

materlist

You’d never really hated Ellie.

But sometimes, being next to her felt like standing beside a lit match—close enough to burn, too far to be warm.

She was everything you weren’t. Confident. Effortless. The kind of pretty that people noticed without her trying. When you walked into a room together, you disappeared behind her glow like a shadow behind sunlight.

She didn’t mean to make you feel small.

But she did.

“God, you’re so dramatic,” Ellie laughed, flopping back on the couch with her third drink in hand. “I did not flirt with that guy.”

You rolled your eyes and took a long sip. Your face burned. “He literally tripped over his words when he saw you. I don’t blame him.”

Ellie raised a brow, cheeks flushed. “You’re being weird tonight.”

You forced a smile, eyes on the floor. “Just tired.”

That was a lie. You weren’t tired—you were cracking.

Cracking under years of silent comparison.

Of wondering if she ever looked at you the way you looked at her.

Of trying to be fine with being the best friend.

Three drinks turned into five.

And five drinks turned into the kind of honesty that stung more than alcohol ever could.

You were lying on Ellie’s floor, legs tangled in a blanket, the moonlight filtering through the half-open curtains. She was beside you, laughing at something stupid, lips glossy with whiskey and chapstick.

You watched her laugh and felt it again—that ache.

And this time, it didn’t stay quiet.

“You ever get tired of being... the pretty one?” you slurred, staring at the ceiling.

Ellie blinked. “What?”

You swallowed hard. The words came like a flood.

“I mean, I don’t blame anyone. You’re fucking gorgeous, Ellie. Always have been. It’s just—"

You choked out a laugh, bitter and small. "It’s hard sometimes. Being the... invisible one next to you.”

The room fell dead silent.

You didn’t dare look at her.

Ellie sat up slowly.

“You think you’re invisible?” she said quietly.

You shrugged. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t ask to be… perfect.”

“Jesus, I’m not perfect—”

“But you don’t get it,” you snapped. “You’ve always been the one people see. Even when you’re quiet, they feel you. I’ve spent years trying to be okay with being the second choice. The backup. The ugly friend.”

You buried your face in your hands. “God, I can’t believe I said that out loud.”

Ellie didn’t respond for a long moment.

And then—gently, almost shakily—she said, “You really think I don’t see you?”

You looked up, eyes rimmed with salt.

Ellie was staring at you like she’d never really looked before.

“I’ve had a crush on you since we were seventeen,” she said flatly.

Your heart stopped.

“What?” you breathed.

“I thought I was being subtle. I figured you weren’t into girls, or you just didn’t see me like that, so I never said anything.”

You stared at her, stunned. “Ellie…”

Her voice dropped, softer. “You’ve got this way of... pretending you’re fine even when you're screaming inside. You think no one notices, but I do. I see every flinch. Every forced smile. And I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever known.”

Your eyes welled up again—but this time, not from jealousy.

From shock. From relief. From finally being seen.

The next morning, your head throbbed, but your heart felt light.

Ellie made you coffee. She was quiet, her usual sarcastic wall softened.

“Do you remember what you said?” she asked, gently, sliding you a mug.

“Every word,” you admitted, clutching the cup. “I’ve never felt so stupid.”

She tilted her head. “Why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing to want something you thought you could never have.”

Ellie walked around the table and crouched beside you, hand on your knee.

“You already have it,” she said softly. “You just didn’t know.”

You blinked at her. And then—finally—you let yourself believe it.

It wasn’t all easy after that. You still had bad days. Still saw someone in the mirror who didn’t feel enough.

But Ellie never let you spiral alone.

She kissed your forehead when you hated your body. Held your hand when you felt like disappearing. Told you she loved your laugh, your eyes, your stupid sarcasm.

And every time she did, you started to believe her.

Little by little. Step by step.

Until the mirror didn’t feel so cruel anymore.

Until “pretty” didn’t have to mean her instead of you.

Until you stopped being jealous of Ellie…

And started being in love with her instead.

<3

Headcannons: Milf!abby anderson x reader (part 3)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

☆ Milf Abby who’s literally the sweetest girlfriend ever. A little old school, but she’s still cute.

☆ Milf Abby who buys you weekly flowers, and who packs you lunch.

☆ Milf Abby who helps you plan lessons and sometimes comes and helps you teach.

☆ Milf Abby who gets baby fever if she sees you with kids.

☆ Milf Abby who said I love you after 3 days of dating.

☆ Milf Abby who has you as her lock screen.

☆ Milf Abby who plans family dates for you and her daughter.

☆ Milf Abby whose heart clenches when she sees how much Aubrey talks about you.

☆ Milf Abby who feels like a teenager because of you.

☆ Milf Abby that’s confused when you text her slang

Abby: ill come pick you up later?

you: yeah baby, I have to go now ttyl

Abby: what is that

☆ Milf Abby who finds pop culture drama interesting because she’s never really took interest in it till you appeared.

☆ Milf Abby who discovers so much and she feels old, but you never judge or make fun of her for it.

☆ Milf Abby who knows you’re the one.

☆ Milf Abby bought you an engagement ring after 2 weeks of dating. It was a simple ring because she knew you didn’t like big and extravagant things (unless it’s her dick-)

☆ Milf Abby who wants to propose to you at a family BBQ

☆ Milf Abby who takes you to meet her family after 4 months of dating, and she knew that this was the weekend she was going to propose.

☆ Milf Abby who held your hand the entire time, when you were being introduced.

☆ Milf Abby who tried staying by your side, but then you snatched away by Aubrey and her cousins.

☆ Milf Abby who stared at you with a smile as you were playing with the kids because you were just that pretty.

☆ Milf Abby who gets cocky when her family tells her she made the right choice.

“You got yourself a pretty girl abs”

“I know”

☆ Milf Abby who was having a good night till her ex-wife showed up.

“What are you doing here?” Abby asked through gritted teeth.

“it’s a family event, can I not be here?”

“you aren’t family”

“Abby she barley sees her mother:

“did you forget we have a child together?”

☆ Milf Abby who wanted to leave but you convinced her to stay for the sake of Aubrey.

“but she’s a bitch”

Aubrey grabbed onto your hand and she ran to her mother. You watched the women’s face drop at the sight of you

“Abby please”

☆ Milf Abby who wanted to slap her ex-wife every time she gave you a dirty look.

“mom this mommy’s girlfriend! isn’t she pretty?!”

The women stared at you with hatred in her eyes. She extended her hand out to grab your other hand in a tight handshake “I’m Kimberly” then you told her your name. The two of you fell into a awkward conversation, until she brought up Abby.

“how long have you been together?” she asked

“4 months” you replied with a smile.

“isn’t it too early to be meeting the family?” she asked, and you rolled your eyes before you responding: “isn’t it too bitchy to judge what I do in my relationship?”

Kimberly stared at you with wide eyes.

☆ Milf Abby who was listening to the whole interaction and she had the biggest smile on her face. That her girl.

☆ Milf Abby who was glued by your side the entire night, but you somehow got lost.

☆ Milf Abby who saw Kimberly walk up to her and she knew this wasn’t going to end well.

“What do you want?” Abby groaned.

“Look I need to say something”

“then talk”

The women took a deep breath before she started spewing nonsense: “I think she’s too young for you! She’s childish”

“that’s your opinion, you know nothing about her”

“well I don’t like her” Kimberly went on.

“that’s ok, but she’s my girlfriend so I don’t know why its bothering you”

“I don’t want her around Aubrey”

that was Abby’s final straw.

“Listen here, you’re barley present in our daughters life. She’s been a better mother to her that you, ever were! You know shit about Aubrey”

“I do” she tried arguing.

“if you did you would’ve know she doesn’t like the nutty chocolate you brought for her”

Kimberly went quiet. Abby continued on to talk.

“You are a shit person. You were a shitty wife, and a shitty mother. My daughter doesn’t deserve that. She needs someone like her. She’s my everything and I would fucking kill for her, so I suggest you stay out of my family’s life”

“but she’s still my daughter”

“she might be but I have full custody” Abby chuckled. “And besides not everyone was made to be a mother, especially you” Kimberly stood there quietly, and she left the party soon after.

☆ Milf Abby who was relieved that she was finally gone.

☆ Milf Abby whose family knew about the proposal and they were helping her plan it.

As the party continued to go on you stood at the table, helping Abby’s aunts with making salads. It was odd, everything became more and more quiet.

You felt arms wrap around you and you knew it was her.

“Hi” you giggled

“hi” she replied. You could practically hear her smile.

“You having fun baby?” Abby asked.

“yeah”

You noticed her sudden silence before you asked: “are you ok?”

Abby took a deep breath. She was nervous. You could tell.

“Yeah, I’m just thinking”

“about?”

“I want this”

“Salad?”

“no” she chuckled. 

“A life with you”

Your heartrate increased.

“I want us to grow old together and throw family BBQ’s. I want us to have a big house, so Aubrey can bring her kids over one day. I want to spend forever waking up next to you, and I want to grow our family….”

During her speech you didn’t notice that she let go of you. You were too busy processing her words at that moment.

“Baby look at me” Abby spoke. You slowly turned around to see Abby’s family surrounding the two of you and her on her one knee, with a delicate ring in her hand.

“Will you marry me?” She asked unsure.

You looked at her with wide eyes, no words were coming out out.

“Say yes! please I can’t wait any longer” Aubrey yelled from the sidelines. You saw Abby chuckle.

You fell down onto your knees before you grabbed her face for a kiss.

“I guess that’s a yes” Abby chuckled when she pulled away.

“fuck yes”

She slipped the ring onto your finger before she got up and yelled “she said yes!” The crowd erupted in screams and cries.

☆ Milf Abby who kissed you passionately as tears flowed from both your eyes.

This was true love.

my pookie: (the tag list): @elliens4

Hi I’m the person who requested Ellie x read based on Mary - Alex g u don’t have to answer this ask I just forgot to specify in my previous one if u could write it like “Mary” in the song is reader and Ellie is the person who’s singing? Tysm again!!

Mary - (ellie williams x reader)

hi pookie! I did exactly what you asked I just added twist! If you don't like it, just pm me and I'll write you a new story! I hope you enjoy <;33

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are always open, feel free to leave one:) or just send me a song and I'll take it from there. Remember if you want something specific to happen, please indicate it in your request.

Warnings: mental illness, mental hospitals, manhandling and mentions of pills, medication, injections and brief mentions of violence

Summary: In which Ellie wrote you a song.

Mary is the girl that I wanna kiss

She's got big red eyes and big red lips

She's got big sharp teeth and big fat hips

Mary is the girl that I wanna fuck

She's got leather heart and leather gloves

She's the only girl that I wanna love

Ellie has always referred to you as Mary. She never knew your real name.

All the times she'd beg you to answer her you'd simply giggle and say: "it's better being a secret"

You were everything Ellie has always wanted. The girl she was so madly in love with, and she didn't even know your name. You were the only thing keeping her sane at this point.

The night Ellie had met you, you sat alone outside on a bench, singing the nursery rhyme Mary had a little lamb over and over again. And the name Mary just stuck with Ellie since them.

You were her Mary. The only girl that she ever wanted to love.

Ellie liked to imagine that in a perfect world it would just be the two of you.

One where she doesn't have to stay in a mental institution. And where you don't have to sneak in every night.

Ellie was sick and tired if this place and truly doesn't know why Joel would send her here.

The walls were painted white, and all she had in her room was a bed.

"Mary is the girl that I wanna fuck?" You raised your eyebrows slightly at Ellie's vulgar lyrics.

Her cheeks turned a slight shade of pink when you brought it up.

"Yeah" Ellie spoke softly.

"You wanna fuck me?" You asked Ellie with a smile on your face.

"I mean yeah-"

The sound of keys jiggling could be heard from down the hall. Ellie let out as quick gasp at that.

Fuck it must've been time to take her meds.

Ellie watched as you quickly jumped out the window, the paper containing the song Ellie wrote dedicated to you slowly falling to the ground. In an instant Ellie jumped up quickly picking up the paper and she stuffed it into her bra.

The door opened as Ellie casually sat on her bed waiting for the nurse to arrive. Nurse Elizabeth walked in with a huge smile on her face.

Ellie rolled her eyes as the nurse, who walked towards her trying to make small talk.

Who the fuck is this happy while working in mental institution?

Ellie took the pills from the nurses hand before, she put it into her mouth. Ellie drank the water that the nurse gave to her, wishing all of this was over and that you'd just come back.

"Open up" the nurse spoke as she put her finger into Ellies mouth.

The girl gagged slightly as the nurse reached her finger further and further down her throat.

"Sorry" the nurse spoke "I have to make sure you take your meds" she finished as she gave Ellie an empathic smile.

All Ellie did was hum and lay down. The nurse soon left and Ellie heard the door lock.

She sat up immediately spitting out the pills.

"Do they really taste taste bad?" Ellie heard your voice.

"How did you get back here so fast?" she asked.

All you did was give her a wink before you walked towards her, opening your hand.

Ellie stared down confused before she realized that you were looking for the song. She quickly pulled the note from her bra as she handed you the paper.

A smile took over your face as you continued reading the lyrics.

And all Ellie could do was smile and enjoy the final moments she has with you for that day before you would disappear again.

Listen to me, baby, I don't mind

I wanna be with you and waste my time

Give it to me, baby, I feel good

I wanna feel whatever you think I should

Sing it for me, baby, play my song

I wanna hear your daddy singing along

5 more months.

5 more fucking months, Ellie had to be in this fucking hell hole.

As Ellie walked down the hall she gazed into the other people's rooms. There were some really messed up people in here.

Truthfully Ellie doesn't know why she's here. She doesn't deserve it.

She wonders why you were here. She wonders why you only come at night. She wonders why she never sees you when she's with people. She wonders in which room you were staying.

So many questions so little answers.

Today was Wednesday. Which meant that they had a talent show. Every Wednesday all the different wards would come together and each patient could show their talent.

Ellie never participated. She always thought it was cringe and stupid. But today she wanted to do something she wanted to sing you the song she had written for you.

As Ellie sat in the room she watched different patients go up to front to do their thing. Some would sing, some would dance and some would just stand there awkwardly.

When Ellie raised her hand to go next, the nurse called out her patient number as she got up and walked towards the front.

Ellie shakily held the paper as she looked up to the crowd.

She saw you standing at the back, giving her a huge smile and a thumbs up.

God you were beautiful.

She could do this. She was doing this for you.

Ellie closed her eyes as she started singing the song.

She sang about your eyes, and how your lips were painted red with lipstick the night you met. She sang about your hips and how she so badly wanted to hold you. How badly she just wanted a taste.

You were only girl Ellie wanted to spend the rest of life with and yet she didn't even know your name.

But you'll always be her Mary.

As Ellie finished her song, the crowd clapped their hands, and a small smile appeared on Ellies face.

Her smile soon disappeared when she saw you weren't in the crowd anymore.

Where were you? Didn't you like her song? Do you hate her? What happened?

As Ellie was thinking she felt a hand on her shoulder. Ellie turned around, and her eyes met with one the the nurses.

"Doctor Bernard wants to see you"

Mary is the girl that leaves you to rot

She says, "I am real and you are not"

She says, "I am real and you are not"

"Ellie how long have you been seeing this girl?" Doctor Bernard asked her.

"Her name is Mary" she replied not answering his question.

"Mary isn't real"

"she is"

"Ellie you're seeing things" The doctor started. "That's why you're here, that's why you take medicine-"

"no you're lying" Ellie yelled as she got up from her chair. Her arms were quickly grabbed by the staff as they lowered her back down into the chair. The autumn brow haired girl started screaming as she was forced to sit down again.

"She's fucking real" Ellie yelled as she lunged forward, another nurse ran from the side holding an injection to Ellie's throat.

Doctor Bernard raised his hand telling the nurse to move away.

"Ellie calm down so we can talk about this"

Heavy breathes fell from Ellies lips as she looked to the floor, saliva started dripping from her lips. The room felt hot.

"She's real" Ellie breathed almost in tears. Why aren't they listening to her?

"it's ok I believe you"

And as soon as he said that Ellie looked up with her eyes wide.

"You believe me?" She asked in genuine shock.

They always told her she was crazy. They always told her there was something wrong with her, but now he believes her?

Ellie felt relived. She really wasn't crazy.

"I do" he said.

"How did she get in?"

"You won't hurt her if I tell you?" Ellie asked.

Your safety was the most important, Ellie didn't want you to end up in solitary or worse, a higher dose of whatever medication they were giving you.

"I won't he promised, now tell me"

"She comes in through the window"

Ellie watched his facial expression closely. She watched him look up to the staff as he gave them a nod. Ellie felt the nurses holding her, gripping her even stronger.

"what the fuck-" Ellie cried as she felt them hold her harder. Ellie felt a cold metal against her neck as she she screamed.

"you said you believed me!"

She kicked, she cried, she spat and she swore but nothing helped.

Soon the drug kicked in and Ellie felt her whole body go limp. She felt them lower her to the floor and she felt very sleepy.

"You said you believed me" Ellie breathed one more time as she looked at doctor Bernard standing above her.

"Ellie there isn't a window in your room"

Ellie felt tired, it was as if everything around her was slowing down.

"Mary isn't real, she never was"

Ellie opened her mouth to talk but no words came out.

The last thing Ellie heard that day was: "you are real and she is not"

Authors note: this one was quite short but it still fucking hit dude... remember my requests are always open and that you are loved...

Yours truly,

Zia<3

Headcannons: dad's best friend!abby anderson x reader

masterlist

☆ Abby is your dad’s closest friend, someone who’s always been around but never really close to you. You were just the kid in the background—until one day, you weren’t.

☆ She saw it change in real time. You grew up. You started speaking with confidence, dressing differently, looking her in the eye. And it scared the hell out of her.

☆ She resisted—tried to ignore the way your laugh lingered in her mind or the way you’d look at her like you knew. But she couldn’t stop noticing you.

☆ The first time it happened, it was a mistake. A late-night conversation on the porch after your dad went to bed. A shared bottle of whiskey. A too-long stare. Your hand brushing hers.

☆ She kissed you. Hard. Desperate. She pulled away like she'd been burned, pacing, swearing under her breath, apologizing.

☆ You told her you wanted it. She told you it couldn’t happen again. It did.

☆ She never stays the night. Never kisses you in the daylight. Never looks at you for too long in public.

☆ You sneak around like it’s life or death. Quick meetups. Locked doors. Lies stacked on lies. Sometimes it makes you sick with adrenaline. Sometimes it makes you cry.

☆ Abby keeps trying to end it—but she always comes back. She’s addicted to you, even if she won’t admit it.

☆ Abby is riddled with guilt. You’re too young. You’re your father's daughter. She’s betraying someone who trusts her with his life. But she wants you—needs you—in a way that’s primal.

☆ She hates herself for it, but you’re the only one who sees her vulnerability. When she’s with you, she lets the walls fall.

☆ You hate the hiding. Hate pretending like she’s just your dad’s friend when she’s the one who’s memorized the way your body moves and how you like your coffee.

☆ She’s older, bigger, more experienced—and sometimes, she uses that. When you’re bratty or push her buttons, she’ll pin you against a wall, palm flat beside your head, whispering, “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

☆ But you’re not powerless. You know how to get to her. How to sit in her lap like it’s innocent. How to call her “Miss Anderson” in a mocking tone just to watch her unravel.

☆ Every moment between you is coiled like a spring—either about to snap into intimacy or explode in a fight.

☆ She hates seeing you with people your age. If you flirt with someone at a party, she corners you in the hallway with fire in her eyes: “You really want to play that game, sweetheart?”

☆ She doesn’t call you hers, but she touches you like you are. Marks you where no one can see. Leaves bruises on your hips and hickeys on your inner thighs like she’s branding you.

☆ When someone else starts showing interest in you, she snaps. Shows up at your apartment. Kisses you like punishment.

☆ Every sound in the hallway makes you freeze when you're together. Every time your dad mentions Abby, your stomach flips.

☆ One close call nearly ends everything—your dad comes home early while she’s still there. You hide in your room, half-dressed, while she plays it cool like she hasn’t just kissed you breathless.

☆ After that, she disappears for days. No calls. No texts. Then she shows up in the middle of the night, eyes red, whispering “I can’t stay away.”

☆ There’s something sacred in the way she holds you in silence. Like you’re the only thing keeping her sane. The way she lets you trace the scars on her back. The way she murmurs your name like a confession.

☆ Sometimes she sneaks into your bed and stays until dawn, just holding you. You wake up to her running her fingers through your hair like she’s memorizing the way you breathe.

☆ She never says "I love you" out loud. But you hear it in the way she says your name. In the way she lingers after kissing you goodbye, her hand hesitating at the doorknob.

☆ The secrecy starts to eat at you. You want her in the open. You want her to fight for you. But she’s scared—scared of destroying your family, of losing everything.

☆ You fight. She pushes you away. You think it’s over. But then she shows up at your door during a storm, soaked, shaking, whispering, “I’d rather burn for this than live without you.”

☆ That night, you realize she loves you—but she doesn’t know how to love you in the light.

☆ There are only two options: get caught… or leave.

☆ Abby starts talking about running away. Not in a romantic way—more like survival. “If he finds out, it’s over for me. For us. I’d lose you both.”

☆ You tell her you’d follow her. She tells you not to say things like that if you don’t mean them.

☆ By day, she’s the picture of loyalty: dependable, trustworthy Abby Anderson—the friend your dad relies on, the one who helps fix the roof and grills on weekends like she’s part of the family.

☆ But by night? She’s slipping into your room when no one’s watching. Holding you like she’s starved. Kissing you like she’s trying to press her soul into your mouth.

☆ She hates the mirror lately. Hates seeing herself knowing what she’s doing. But the only time she doesn’t feel like a monster is when she’s buried in your arms.

☆ She cooks for you in secret. Not well, but she tries—burnt grilled cheese, bland pasta. You eat it anyway, legs wrapped around her hips at the kitchen counter.

☆ She keeps a drawer of your things in her apartment: a sweater, a scrunchie, a book you left behind. She told herself it was just until you took them back—but she likes seeing pieces of you there.

☆ You steal a pair of her dog tags. Wear them under your clothes like a talisman. She notices, and that night, she makes you wear nothing but them.

☆ You have a code phrase—“Are you free to talk?”—that means “I need you. Now.”

☆ You meet in quiet places: her truck parked on the cliffside at night, an old garage your dad doesn’t use, hotel rooms under fake names. Every touch is frantic. Every goodbye, heartbreaking.

☆ After every time, she tells you it’s the last. She never means it. You both pretend like the next time won’t happen, even though it always does.

☆ She hid her jealousy well—until she doesn’t. If someone else touches you, even innocently, she goes cold. Her voice sharpens. Her eyes darken. Later, she drags you into a quiet room and kisses you like she owns you.

“No one else gets to see you like this.”

“You shouldn’t be showing yourself to anyone but me.”

☆ It’s twisted, and it turns you on. But it scares her. She’s never felt this out of control before, and it makes her want to run—or hold on tighter.

☆ After she touches you, there’s always a pause. A moment of silence where she looks at you like she’s doing something unforgivable. Like she’s already lost you.

☆ Sometimes she sits at the edge of the bed, head in her hands. “I shouldn’t want this,” she whispers. “I shouldn’t want you.”

You crawl into her lap, cup her face, and say, “Then don’t make me beg.”

And that’s all it takes—her restraint shatters.

☆ She knows every inch of you—where to touch, where you’re ticklish, what makes you melt. But it’s not just sex. It’s the way her hands tremble when she unzips your hoodie. The way her breath catches when you say her name like a secret.

Her voice drops when she’s turned on. Low, rough, almost pleading.

“You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Tell me you’re mine. Even if it’s just here.”

☆ She can’t be soft in public, so she’s overwhelmingly soft in private. She holds you like a secret she’ll die to keep. Kisses your forehead. Tells you she dreams of a version of the world where this isn’t wrong.

☆ You want more. You start slipping up. Touching her shoulder when your dad’s in the room. Smiling at her too long. She panics when you get bold.

“You’re going to ruin this,” she hisses one day when you almost kiss her goodbye. “Someone will find out.”

“Then let them,” you challenge.

She grabs your wrist. “Don’t ever say that again.”

☆ It starts to hurt—loving someone in the shadows. The secrets eat at you. You wonder if she’ll ever really choose you.

☆ You tell her: “I want a life with you. I want to hold your hand in public. I want people to know you’re mine.”

☆ Abby’s voice breaks. “I want that too. But I want your dad to look me in the eye without seeing betrayal. I want to deserve you first.”

☆ A near-discovery shakes everything. Maybe someone sees you leaving her place at dawn. Maybe your dad borrows her phone and sees your contact.

☆ Abby freaks out. Cuts contact. Says it’s over. You cry. She watches from a distance, agonizing over it.

☆ Then, weeks later—she shows up at your door again. Hands shaking. Heart bare. “I tried. I can’t stop. I need you.”

☆ She finally asks you to leave with her. No more hiding. No more pretending.

“Let’s go somewhere no one knows us. I’ll build us a life. Just say the word.”

All the angst you write is so beautiful I’m in tears

omfg thank you sm! this means so much to me🥺

I love you pookie<33