Therefore You And Me - Part 1/3 (elllie Williams X Reader)

Under her desk - ellie williams x reader

pairing: ceo!ellie williams x secratery fem!reader

requests are open, send me your thoughts:)

Warnings: MDNI Explicit sexual content (18+): intense sexual tension, implied oral sex, semi-public workplace sex, voyeurism, jealous/possessive behavior

Summary: You're her secretary—organized, polite, and always on time. She's the boss—cold, brilliant, and merciless. But every glance from Ellie lingers too long. Every touch burns. And every closed-door meeting gets harder to forget.

masterlist

MONDAY

The first time Ellie Williams looks at you that way, you think you imagined it.

It’s just a glance. A flicker of her eyes up your legs as you place the morning reports on her desk. But there’s a pause—half a second too long before she meets your gaze, green eyes heavy-lidded and unreadable behind wire-rimmed glasses.

“Thank you,” she says. Her voice is a low hum, raspy from lack of sleep or too much coffee. Or both. You nod, trying not to look at her mouth. Trying not to notice how she licks her lower lip when she turns back to the screen.

You walk out of her glass-walled office trying not to blush, legs unsteady under your pencil skirt. You shouldn’t have worn that lipstick. But the thing is—you know what you’re doing.

And so does she.

WEDNESDAY

Ellie Williams is brilliant, successful, and terrifying. She doesn’t waste time with small talk. She hates lateness. She reads contracts like they’re storybooks and intimidates men twice her age with a single look.

She’s also annoyingly hot.

You’ve spent the last three weeks working under her, literally and figuratively, and she hasn’t so much as smiled at you. Until now.

“Shut the door,” she says one morning, not looking up from her laptop. Her voice is low, authoritative.

You close it behind you, pulse skipping.

“Come here.”

She slides a file across her glass desk. You step closer than necessary, your hand brushing hers as you take it. It’s electric. It feels intentional.

“Read this clause,” she says, tapping a page. “Tell me what’s wrong with it.”

You lean over. She leans back in her chair, one leg crossing over the other slowly, eyes fixed not on the paper—but on you. You can feel her stare. Your skin burns under it.

“That’s… ambiguous wording,” you murmur. “It leaves too much room for liability.”

Her lips curve just slightly. You did well.

And then she says it: “You’re smarter than you look.”

You swallow. “You don’t know how I look.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Don’t I?”

It’s dangerous. Everything about her is. But you leave her office feeling like you just passed a test.

FRIDAY NIGHT

The building is empty.

You stayed late because she asked. A simple email: Stay after hours. Need you to help draft a response.

No “please.” No “thank you.” But you came.

Her office is dimly lit. Just her desk lamp and the amber glow from the city skyline outside.

Ellie’s jacket is off. Her sleeves rolled up. Tattoos exposed. Her jaw tight as she types. You stand nearby, heart pounding.

“Come here,” she says again, voice lower now. Rough.

You step beside her. She gestures at the screen, scrolling through a client proposal. But her hand brushes your hip. She doesn’t move it.

You don’t breathe.

“You smell like cinnamon,” she murmurs suddenly, almost distracted.

“It’s my lotion.”

“I like it.”

There’s silence.

You turn to her—slowly.

Ellie’s eyes flick to your lips. Your knees go weak. She leans in. So close. Not kissing. Just hovering—like she’s daring you.

“I’m your boss,” she says, whispering it like a sin.

“I know,” you whisper back.

“I shouldn’t want you.”

“But you do.”

Her hand grips your hip. You don’t know who kisses first.

But once her mouth is on yours, everything blurs. She pulls you onto her lap, fingers tangled in your hair, tongue sliding past your lips with a groan that makes your spine arch.

Her mouth is hot, desperate, possessive.

But the moment is short-lived. She pulls back, breathless, eyes wild.

“Get out,” she says harshly.

You freeze. “Ellie—”

“I said get out.”

You leave shaking. But she doesn’t stop you because she regrets it. She stops you because if you stayed, she would’ve had you on her desk.

WEEK LATER

She avoids you all week. Short emails. Clipped instructions. Barely looks at you.

It hurts. But you understand.

Power. Rules. Risk.

Still, she calls you into her office on Thursday. You go, heart hammering.

She’s pacing. Frustrated.

“I can’t think,” she snaps. “Not with you out there.”

You blink. “Did I do something wrong?”

Ellie stops. Looks at you like you’re the problem and the solution.

“You’re perfect,” she whispers. “That’s the problem.”

And then she’s kissing you again—this time rough, frantic. She shoves everything off her desk in one motion, making you gasp.

“Sit,” she growls.

You do.

And then her mouth is on your neck, your blouse unbuttoned, her hands everywhere, as if she’s waited months for this.

You moan her name—soft, breathy. She freezes.

Then she says it: “You’re mine.”

You nod. “Yes.”

You start sneaking around. Closed doors. Locked meeting rooms. Lingering touches behind your desk.

Ellie becomes obsessed.

She buys you new pens just because she saw you chewing the caps. Schedules “private reviews” that last way too long. Texts you when you’re home just to say, "Wanna come back and help me ‘finish something?’”

She doesn’t date anyone else. You check. But she doesn’t call you her girlfriend, either.

Power. Risk. Rules.

But in her eyes—in the way her thumb traces your lips after she kisses you—you know.

You own her, too.

MONDAY

The worst part isn’t that you kissed your boss. It’s that you keep doing it.

Ellie’s office becomes a second home for secrets: stolen kisses, whispered confessions, shaky breaths against frosted glass. But it never goes further than that—not fully.

There’s always a line.

Sometimes you think she’s drawing it. Sometimes, you think she’s one step from erasing it completely.

And every time she stops, the excuse is always the same.

“I can’t afford to lose you.”

You don’t know if she means as her assistant… or something more.

TUESDAY

Ellie starts acting weird.

She stares at you when she thinks you don’t notice. She double-texts you at night, then apologizes. Her fingers shake slightly when you hand her coffee. But she still never says what she wants.

And you’re getting tired of pretending.

“Are we going to talk about this?” you finally ask, one evening after everyone’s left. You’re leaning in her office doorway, arms crossed. She’s behind her desk, eyes on her screen but clearly distracted.

She doesn’t look at you.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Ellie.”

Now she looks up. Her jaw tightens.

“It’s dangerous,” she says quietly. “This is my company. You’re my employee. If anyone finds out—”

“I’d be the one who gets fired,” you cut in.

Her face shifts. There it is. The truth.

“I would never let that happen,” she says, voice low and deadly. “You have no idea what I’d do to protect you.”

You step forward slowly. “Then stop hiding me.”

She looks like she wants to say something. Instead, she stands. Walks around her desk. Stops a breath away. Her hand brushes your wrist.

And she whispers: “I don’t hide you. I hide us. Because once people know, they’ll want to take you from me.”

There’s something unhinged in her voice. Soft, but sharp. Like she’s thought about it too much. Like she’s scared of how far she’d go.

FRIDAY

You try to act normal.

Emails. Schedules. Morning coffee runs. But Ellie keeps breaking the façade. She calls you in five times for "review." Never talks about work. Just stares at you. Sometimes says something ridiculous like, “You wore that on purpose” or “I had a dream about you.”

And then there are the nights. Her texts turn softer, needier.

Ellie: Are you in bed?

Ellie: Can I call?

Ellie: Just wanna hear your voice.

You let her. And when she breathes your name into the phone, quiet and rough, it makes your heart ache. Because this doesn’t feel casual anymore. It feels like it’s killing her to keep you a secret.

SUNDAY

You show up to her apartment for the first time.

Ellie doesn’t even pretend to play it cool. She opens the door in a black tee and sweatpants, hair a mess, eyes tired like she hasn’t slept in days.

“You came.”

“You asked me to.”

She pulls you in without a word. Kisses you like it’s oxygen. Like she’s been holding her breath all week.

You don’t leave until 3AM.

There’s no sex. Just tangled limbs. Soft kisses. Ellie’s head resting on your chest like she needs to be near your heartbeat.

You stroke her hair, whispering, “Why do you make this so hard?”

And her answer is quiet. “Because if I ever lost you, I’d never recover.”

WEDNESDAY

It happens. You get caught.

You didn’t even notice the door was cracked open.

You were leaning on her desk, Ellie between your legs, her hand up your thigh, whispering something filthy against your neck.

And someone—probably an intern—saw it.

You don’t find out until later, when HR sends Ellie a request for a "private meeting." That afternoon, Ellie storms into your little cubicle, eyes wild, pulse in her throat.

“We’re not hiding anymore,” she says, grabbing your hand in front of the whole floor.

“Ellie—”

“Let them talk. Let them guess. I don’t give a damn.”

She pulls you into her office, slams the door, and kisses you like it’s the only thing that matters.

And that night, she finally takes you home again—but this time, there’s no restraint.

This time, she makes love to you like she’s claiming territory. Like she’s trying to memorize everything, in case the world tries to take it away.

ONE WEEK LATER

Ellie is pacing. You're seated across her office, legs crossed, heart pounding.

“You’re not just my secretary anymore,” she says. “You haven’t been for a while.”

You look at her. “So what now?”

She stops. Walks to you. Kneels—yes, kneels—between your legs and rests her head in your lap.

“We rewrite the rules.”

You card your fingers through her hair.

“And if they fire you?” you ask

Ellie looks up at you with that same fire in her eyes.

“They won’t. But if they do? I’ll build my own damn company. Put your name on the front. Hire myself as your assistant.”

You laugh. You kiss her.

And you both know you’re done pretending.

MONDAY

It starts with a look. Ellie walks in late—coffee in hand, sleeves rolled up, jaw sharp—and heads straight to your desk. She pauses. Leans down.

You think she’s going to whisper something.

But no.

She presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

Right there. In front of everyone. You freeze. So does the office.

Conversations stop. Keyboards go quiet. Someone drops their pen.

Ellie stands up straight, totally unfazed.

“Good morning, baby,” she says like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

And then she heads to her office. Just like that, everyone knows.

By lunch, the office is buzzing.

“Did you see that?”

“I thought she was single.”

“Isn’t that her boss?”

“There’s no way that’s allowed.”

“I heard they were already hooking up for weeks.”

You try to focus on your screen, but it’s impossible. Every glance in your direction lingers too long. You hear your name more in whispered tones than anyone should in a professional setting.

But Ellie? She acts like it’s nothing. Like she hasn’t just lit the entire building on fire with one kiss.

The next day, HR calls Ellie in again. You sit at your desk, sick with anxiety.

She walks out 30 minutes later, face unreadable. You follow her to her office, shut the door behind you.

“What happened?”

She exhales. “They’re not happy. But technically, I didn’t break any rules.”

“Technically?”

She shrugs. “We’re adults. Consensual. No direct coercion or manipulation. I didn’t promote you or change your pay. Legally, they can’t fire either of us.”

“But they’re watching now,” you murmur.

Ellie steps closer. “Let them.”

You overhear two coworkers talking about you in the breakroom later that week. Something crude. Something about how “you must be really good at keeping her attention” if the boss is that obsessed.

You walk out before they see you. Embarrassed. Furious. Ellie notices immediately.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lie.

She doesn’t believe you. Of course she doesn’t. Twenty minutes later, you hear her voice—raised—from down the hall.

“Say it again. I dare you.”

You stand up. Heart racing. Ellie’s got one of the men cornered, towering over him with a calm, cold fury that could freeze lava.

“She’s smarter than everyone in this damn building. And if I hear you speak about her like that again, you won’t be working here anymore.”

He stammers. Apologizes. She doesn't back off.

“She’s not just mine—she’s the best thing about this place.”

The entire office hears.

You’re both in her car. The sun is setting. You’re quiet. Ellie’s gripping the steering wheel a little too tight.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” she mutters. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

She looks at you.

“Because I want to protect you so badly it scares me.”

You reach over, touch her arm.

“I’ve never had anyone stand up for me like that.”

She exhales slowly.

“I’m yours,” you whisper.

And Ellie—tough, stoic Ellie—closes her eyes like she’s holding back tears.

“I’ve been yours since the first day you walked into my office,” she confesses.

THURSDAY

You didn’t think she’d go public with it. But she does.

At the company-wide meeting, Ellie is cool and composed as ever. She addresses the quarterly goals, talks profits and projections. Then, at the end:

“One more thing.”

She glances at you.

“I want to address the elephant in the room. Yes, I’m in a relationship with my secretary. It’s not a secret anymore. And if anyone has a problem with it, take it up with HR. Or better yet, with me.”

Silence.

Then applause. Actual applause. You’re stunned.

She doesn’t smile. Doesn’t wink. Just steps down, professional and poised, like she didn’t just dismantle the gossip mill with a single announcement.

Later, in her office, she pulls you in by the waist and murmurs, “They’re never touching you. Not even with words.”

Ellie books a meeting room. Not for work. Just to eat lunch with you away from the eyes. She brings you your favorite sandwich. Sits close. Hands brushing under the table.

“Is this okay?” she asks quietly. “I know it’s messy.”

You smile. “I’d sit under your desk again if I had to.”

Ellie laughs—real, unguarded.

Then she leans in. Presses a kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m not letting them shame us. You’re not a secret. You’re everything.”

MONDAY

Things have mostly gone back to normal.

Well—office normal. People don’t whisper quite as loudly anymore. HR stopped breathing down Ellie’s neck. And you’ve found a quiet rhythm with her—sneaking kisses in her office, flirty texts during boring meetings, soft nights tangled in her sheets. But there's still a tension in the air. Like something’s waiting to snap.

Like you’re both still holding back.

TUESDAY

His name’s Jordan. New hire. Tech department.

Cute in a safe, unthreatening way—gelled hair, bright smile, button-ups that are a little too fitted. He’s harmless. Probably.

Until he starts showing up at your desk. First it’s innocent. A shared joke. A smile. Then it escalates.

“You’ve got the prettiest eyes in this whole office.”

You glance up from your computer. “Thanks.”

“Bet that’s how you got hired, huh?” he laughs, like it’s funny.

You go cold. “Excuse me?”

“I mean—c’mon. The boss is, like, obsessed with you. Can’t blame her.”

You stand up. “That’s completely inappropriate.”

He just smirks. “Relax. It’s a compliment.”

You don’t even answer. You walk. Straight to Ellie’s office.

You barely shut the door before her voice sharpens. “What happened?”

You tell her everything. She’s already grabbing her jacket before you finish.

“I’ll talk to him,” you say quickly. “You don’t have to—”

But her eyes have darkened.

“I do have to. Because he crossed a line and because you’re mine.”

You swallow.

“Ellie—”

“No. I’m done being polite.”

The entire office is silent again.

Ellie’s voice slices through the air like a blade.

“I don’t care if you’re new or stupid or both. You don’t talk to her like that. You don’t look at her like that. You don’t breathe near her unless she wants you to.”

Jordan stammers. Ellie steps closer.

“She’s not your peer. She’s not your flirt project. She’s mine. And if you can’t understand what respect looks like, you’ll be out of a job faster than you can blink.”

Jordan nods, practically shaking. You’ve never seen her like this.

Furious. Cold. Protective.

And so, so in love.

She slams her office door shut. You sit quietly.

Ellie’s pacing. Her hands run through her hair, jaw clenched. She won’t even look at you.

“Are you okay?” you ask gently.

She stops.

“I hate it,” she whispers. “I hate the idea of someone touching you. Someone thinking they have a right to you.”

“Ellie—”

“No. I’ve been trying so fucking hard not to say it.”

You freeze. She walks up to you slowly. Cups your face in both hands.

“But I’m in love with you.”

Your breath catches.

“I didn’t want to scare you,” she murmurs. “Didn’t want to say it too soon. But I love you. And I’d burn this whole company down if someone hurt you.”

Your heart is racing.

“Say it again.”

She leans in, forehead to yours.

“I love you.”

You kiss her like you’ve been dying to for weeks. Deep. Grateful. Starving. And when you pull back, breathless, your smile is shaking.

“I love you too.”

Ellie’s whole body relaxes. Like she’s been waiting to exhale for months.

You’re at her place. You’re in her bed, skin warm from her touch, her fingers brushing your bare spine.

Ellie whispers into your hair: “You’re mine. And not because I’m your boss. Not because you work for me. Because I chose you.”

You whisper it back. And when she falls asleep with her arms around you, you realize something:

You were never under her desk. You were always under her skin.

FRIDAY, 6:42 P.M

The office is nearly empty.

It’s the end of the quarter. People went home early. Laughter and footsteps faded around 5:00. The air has that hollow, humming stillness that only comes after hours. Fluorescent lights dimmed. Elevator chimes long gone.

You should go home. You both should.

But Ellie’s door is closed. And your back is pressed to it.

Her mouth is on your neck, hot and open and needy.

You moan quietly, hands fisting the front of her shirt, body arching as her thigh presses between your legs, her grip firm at your waist.

“Ellie,” you whisper. “Someone could—”

“Shh.” Her voice is low, rough. Her lips brush your ear. “They’re all gone.”

You glance toward the glass panels. She’s pulled the blinds halfway, but it’s still risky.

And yet… You don’t stop her.

You're sitting on the edge of her desk now. Skirt bunched. Blazer long gone.

Ellie’s shirt is open—collar popped, chest rising fast. She’s in her chair between your knees, one hand gripping your thigh, the other sliding dangerously high.

“Look at me,” she commands softly.

You do.

God, you do.

Because Ellie in the office chair—tie loosened, hair mussed, eyes heavy with lust—is your undoing.

“You always sit here like this when you’re typing,” she murmurs, dragging her fingers up your inner thigh. “And you expect me to focus?”

“Ellie—” you gasp.

Her fingers brush against your soaked underwear. She smiles.

“Such a fucking distraction.”

You kiss her hard, teeth knocking. Desperate. Uncoordinated. Hot.

Then she slips her fingers beneath the lace and—

“Hey, boss, I—oh my God—”

You jolt.

Ellie jerks away, instantly on her feet, shielding you with her body. Your heart is pounding. Face flushed. Skirt still hiked. Her hands still warm on your hips.

In the doorway: Jordan. Eyes wide. Frozen.

“GET. OUT.” Ellie’s voice is a snarl.

He stammers, backs out, slams the door behind him.

You’re gasping.

Ellie’s jaw is clenched so hard, you think it might crack.

You fix your clothes in a daze. Ellie watches you. Still breathing heavily. Still angry.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “That was reckless.”

She walks up behind you. Wraps her arms around your waist. Buries her face in your shoulder.

“I don’t regret it.”

You turn, eyes meeting hers.

“Are you okay?”

She nods. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Ellie—”

“Not literally. Probably.”

You laugh, a little shakily. She presses her forehead to yours.

“I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“I don’t want you to.”

MONDAY

The entire office knows. Again.

Jordan’s quiet. Pale. Avoids you like the plague. Ellie calls a full department meeting. Not for discipline—but for clarity.

She looks every single employee dead in the eye and says: “Yes. We’re together. Yes, it’s serious. No, it’s not casual. And if anyone thinks about violating our privacy again, I will escalate it to legal.”

You feel the burn of her protectiveness long after she finishes speaking.

She pulls you into her office. Locks the door. This time, just to kiss you slow.

“Maybe I should move you out of the secretary role,” she murmurs. “Not because of the rumors. Because I need you close—and this isn’t sustainable.”

“Are you firing me as your secretary?”

“I’m promoting you,” she says with a smirk. “To something safer. Something that means I don’t have to hold back.”

Your heart flutters.

“Is that even allowed?”

“I’m the boss,” she says. “It’s whatever I say it is.”

GLAD YOUR BACK DIVA 🤍

RAHHHHHH THANK YOU POOOKIEEEEE, IT FEELS GOOD TO BE BACK <3333

First time using this so sorry if it’s worded weird I’d love if you did a fic with in hell by Japanese breakfast

Also she kinda sounds like Ellie if that makes sense

𝐈𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥: 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

This story is based off the song In Hell by Japanese breakfast, If you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: Jackson!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:)

Warning: murder, blood, violence, revenge and death

Summary: in which ellie had a taste of what hell felt like

Also this story was requested by the beautiful @iceylemonqueen ! Thank you so much for requesting it (and yeah I agree it does sound like Ellie)

With my luck you'll be dead within the year

I've come to expect it

There's nothing left to fear, at least there's that

Face to face, and at my hands

I snowed you in with hydrocodone

Layer by layer, 'til you disappear

Loosing Joel was one of the hardest things Ellie has ever experienced. Watching him get brutally murdered traumatized her. After Joel’s death Ellie’s obsession with killing Abby took over her life. Ellie became heartless, more brutal, cold. Abby consumed her thoughts.

“Abby Abby Abby Abby Abby Abby” kept on repeating in her head like a mantra. Her goal in life was to kill Abby. Get rid of the person that caused her so much pain. She had to get rid of the person that took Joel away.

Her Joel. Her father figure. Her best friend.

On her journey in search for Abby, she come across you. She should’ve killed you. But no. Something inside her said keep her. And that exactly what Ellie did. She kept you.  You had gotten lost from your group, and you begged Ellie to help you back to them, and instead of leaving you or killing you like she normally would, Ellie said yes.

 The voices in her head that keeps on telling her to kill Abby, get her, make her pay for what she’s done- went silent. When you were with her she was at peace. She could sleep for the first time in months because of you. She felt like she could live a normal life with you. You were someone worth fighting for, someone to protect and look after. Everything that Ellie has done, the amount of people she killed didn’t matter because when she was with you, her dark thoughts and guilt went away.

For the first time since going on this journey Ellie felt fear. Riley, Sam, Tess, Joel- they all died because of her. At this point Ellie waited for you to die, because every time she gets close to someone they leave. But you didn’t. You stayed with her for months. Not judging her when she brutally kills someone.

What is she going to do if something happened to you?

One night when you and Ellie lay under the starts, Ellie realized that you weren’t going to be with her forever. She remembered that you wanted to get back to your group. A small pout formed on her lips, her brows furrowed she quietly said:

“you know you can stay”

“huh” you questioned raising a brow at what Ellie said

“what are you talking about- “

“with me” she said quickly. “You can stay with me I’ll keep you safe” As soon as those words left Ellie’s mouth she regretted them, fear settled in her stomach:

What happens if she can’t keep you safe?

 You sat up giving her a small smile “I’d like that Ellie”. As soon as she saw you smile all fear she felt went away.

“With my luck I thought you’d be dead in less than a year” Ellie laughed, you let out a small chuckle “I’m not leaving anytime soon els” you promised.

If only she didn’t believe you

Hell is finding someone to love

And I can't have you

Hell is finding someone to love

And I can't see you again

Ellie sat in the cold water as she watched Abby push the boat. Tears ran down her face.

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t kill Abby because it will never bring Joel back. She wasn’t worth killing. “Just go” Ellie sobbed as she continued to sit in the water. Everything was quite for a while, and as Ellie looked up she saw Abby standing in front of her, holding something. Ellie’s eyes landed on the small piece of silver jewelry and she felt sick. It was yours.

After you agreed to stay with Ellie, the two of you found a farm house. And Ellie couldn’t be happier. You were with her, living the life she had dreamed of for years.

“You know our life is like those cliché romance books” you said one night. Ellie would never admit it but she liked living this cheesy cliché life with you.

When Tommy came around and told Ellie about Abby’s whereabouts, she knew she had to go. And that was her biggest mistake.

 She left you alone.

 As Abby stood in front of her holding the silver necklace you wore Ellie knew something happened to you. She gently took the chain, and started up at Abby, her eyes filled with guilt.

“What did you do to her?” Ellie asked, trying to stay calm. Abby opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before she let out a quiet “I’m sorry”. And Ellie saw red.

Soon after Abby’s screams filled the quiet air as Ellie punch her. Blood filled the water and Ellie’s hand felt numb but she didn’t fucking care.

Now here she stood in front of the farm house the two of you shared. She doesn’t know if she killed Abby, she could care less. She wore the necklace rushing back to you, to make sure her worst nightmare didn’t come true.

And as soon as Ellie opened the front door the smell of a decomposing body hit her. “No” she whispered. “Please baby, please be ok” she begged as she searched around the house for you. And when she found you, she wasn’t met with the beautiful girl she fell in love with, she was met with a corpse, a room filled with blood splatter and bugs.

This is why Ellie doesn’t fall in love. This is why Ellie doesn’t trust anyone. Because every time she finds some they die.

And most people deserve death, but you didn’t. Ellie let out a scream as she grabbed you, not caring for the smell, she brought your cold lifeless body to her chest hugging you, “I’m so sorry” she spoke into your hair.

Wheeled you in, laid on your side

I cried and cried and at my signal

They stopped your heart and then you died

And under the fluorescence, into this still room

Where no-one ever tells you just how clinical death looks

And I can't unsee it, the two shots it took

Ellie went back to Jackson. And she took your body with her. As soon as Maria and Tommy saw her limping back with a girl’s dead body they were concerned.

“Ellie-“ Tommy started but Ellie extended out her arms to Maria , giving your cold lifeless body to her

“please” she whispered, “please bring her back”

 Maria and Tommy looked at each other knowing, by the looks of your body you’ve been dead for months. But still Maria took you to the clinic and fulfilling Ellie’s wishes.

 “Ellie what happened” Tommy asked

“I want to see my girl” Ellie said completely ignoring the question Tommy had just asked. And with a sigh Tommy took her to you.

“Ellie we tried” Maria started “but she’s not coming back”

“Leave” Ellie said. And as soon as they left loud sobs filled the room. Elle walked over to where you lay, climbing into the bed next to you.

“I love so much baby” she said over and over again. And for hours Ellie spoke to you, telling you stories, telling you her hopes and dreams. She knew you were never going to wake up again, so she had to spend as much time with you, as she possibly could.

She’ll never be able to unsee you, she’ll never be able to move on.

“If I ever lose you, I’d surly loose myself” Ellie sang as she gave you a kiss on the forehead. She picked up her backpack walking out of the clinic. No one warns you about death. No one warns you about the pain of losing a loved one.

After losing Joel, Ellie though she experienced pain but after losing you, Ellie had a taste of what hell felt like.

Authors note: Once again thank you for requesting this fae! I love you sm! Remember you are loved and to always be kind.... feel free to request anything!

yours truly,

Zia<3

Are you okay?

mentally, I wasn't for a while, and writing dark stuff did affect me in a way I didn't realize. I took a break, I did some soul searching and when u finally decided to come back I lost my password... pain.

I've been obsessed with john buckleys "everybody here wants you" I'd love to see your take on it maybe from the readers pov like where we are admiring ellie

Everybody here wants you - (ellie williams x reader)

Hi anon! your wish, is command... I hope you enjoy <3

This story is based off the song Everybody here wants you by Jeff Buckley, 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 or just send me a song and I'll take it from there:) or just send me your thoughts....

HUGE Warning: obsession, stalking, murder, gore, self harm, reader is unhinged, Dina slander (we love Dina but for the sake of the plot we're haters)

Summary: In which you fell in love with someone you couldn't have

wc: 1.9k

29 pearls in your kiss

A singing smile

Coffee smell and lilac skin

Your flame in me

I'm only here for this moment

When you first laid eyes on Ellie it felt like your body was on fire.

Ellie awakened some deep desire in you, that even you yourself didn’t understand.

When she caught you staring all she could do was give you a small smile, and you felt your stomach erupt with butterflies. Even after she caught you, you couldn’t help but to continue staring.

 The way her autumn brown hair was in a half up, half down look, the way the red and green flannel hugged her arms the right way, how her side profile looked. Just everything about her. Everything about her was without fault.

god really has his favorites huh?

You didn’t know who she was, you didn’t know her name but god she was doing things to you. You got up from where you were sitting and walked behind her. As soon as you walked past her, a strong scent of pinewood hit you.

Wow jesus, ok does she bath in her perfume? You thought to yourself.

As you stood at the other side of the room watching this beautiful woman you heard someone scream “Ellie” the autumn brown haired girl’s head snapped up, looking at another girl.

You wanted to vomit.

You wanted to stab your eyes out after watching Ellie smile with someone else.

“Dina!” Ellie screamed back standing up and immediately running to the girl with dark hair and hugging her. Even though you were filled with jealousy you knew her name now.

Ellie.

Your Ellie.

I know everybody here wants you

I know everybody here thinks he needs you

I'll be waiting right here just to show you

How our love will blow it all away

You weren’t stupid. Ellie was an attractive girl. The day you met Ellie you saw how people looked at her. The way their gaze’s lingered on her beautiful face. Whether it was men or women it seemed that Ellie’s beauty had everyone in awe.

Everybody here wanted Ellie. Everybody in this room did.

How would Ellie notice you when there’s hundreds, probably thousands of people throwing themselves at her.

That day when you first saw Ellie and found out her name, you spent exactly 72 hours looking for her Instagram. You went through thousands of accounts trying to find her. When you eventually found Ellie’s Instagram you learned a lot more about her.

She loved skating, she’s very gay and she has a best friend named Dina.

You let out a sigh of relief when you realized that they were only friends. But the way Ellie smiled at her made your stomach churn.

You saw Dina as a threat.

Who wouldn’t? She was everything you weren’t. And at least Ellie knew of her existence.

You clicked on Dina’s profile going through each one of her posts, comments and everything about her. You memorized Dina’s page, every post, comment and caption. You had to figure out what Ellie saw in Dina. You had to become Dina.

A week went by, and neither Ellie or Dina posted anything. You felt like you were losing your mind. As soon as you wanted to give up and move on, Dina made a post that she was throwing a huge party. A smile appeared on your face. This was your chance.

Miracles do happen. You were going to that party. And you were going to get Ellie’s number.

Hmm, such a thing of wonder in this crowd

I'm a stranger in this town

You're free with me

And our eyes locked in downcast love

I sit here proud

Even now, you're undressed in your dreams with me

You shouldn’t have come here. Everybody in this room wanted Ellie. The way they all started at her with hungry eyes, the way they were practically undressing her with their eyes. You didn’t like this. You didn’t like the way they were looking at your girl.

You were burning holes into the back of Ellie’s head at this point. Ellie turned around frowning when somebody bumped into her, and for the first time in almost two weeks the two of you locked eyes again.

Ellie gave you a smile. That fucking smile. The same one she gave you two weeks ago. You sat there frozen after she turned away. You didn’t know if you should cry or be excited. Ellie smiled at you. She definitely wants you.

You felt out of place. Everyone in this stupid party knew each other. You felt like you didn’t belong. You hated being here, but if it means you’ll be in Ellie’s presence a little longer you’ll put up with it.

“Hi” you heard a voice say behind you, and when you turned around your eyes met with Dina’s.

“Hi Dina” you said softly.

“How do you know my name?”

fuck how did you know her name?

were you supposed to tell the truth? that you were stalking her?

“I’m a friend of Ellie’s” you smiled.

“Oh! A friend of Ellie’s is a friend of mine!” She gave you a bright smile bringing you in for a hug.

 “It was nice meeting you” Dina smiled as she started walking away. Your eyes followed her seeing that she was walking towards Ellie.

Fuck fuck fuck no no no

what happens if she asks Ellie about you? They would know you’re a fake. And you’d never get a chance with Ellie.

“Hey Dina” you called out and she turned toward you, “yeah?” she yelled over the music.

“Can you please show me where the bathroom is?”

 “Oh yeah follow me” Dina reached out you, offering her hand so that you can grab it. The two of you walked in the crowd hand in hand.

Dina was talking too much. She’s so fucking annoying you thought to yourself.  

What does Ellie see in her?

“Here we go” Dina said as she pushed open a door. The room was decorated with white and blue wallpaper, and there was a bed in the middle of the room.

“You want me to pee on the bed?” you questioned.

“No silly” Dina laughed she walked to the other side of the room pushing open another door, revealing a bathroom.

“Wait let me check if there’s toilet paper- “

 Dina’s body landed on the floor with a thud as blood seeped from her head. You stood above her holding a lamp heavily breathing. Tears pricked your eyes.

What the fuck were you thinking? You weren’t a killer. You never wanted to harm Dina.

You looked down at your hands seeing that the blood on top of the lamp dripped down onto your own hands.

“No” you yelled throwing it on the ground. You sat on the bed sobbing.

You were going to prison. You were a killer. You were dirty. You were a bad person.

No.

No you weren’t.

Dina was going to tell Ellie. She was going to tell Ellie that you lied. You weren’t a bad person, you just made a mistake. A mistake that you will clean up before anyone came looking for Dina.

You quickly got up wiping the tears from your eyes, and you locked the door.

You quickly grabbed a towel and you wrapped it around her head to try and stop the bleeding as much as you can to make the cleanup easier. You dragged Dina’s body closer to the bed as you let out a grunt as you placed her on the bed.

You walked to the bathroom looking through the cupboard “fuck yeah” you breathed when you saw a pack of razors. You gently took one out and you walked over to Dina.

She was still breathing, but you knew after this she wouldn’t.

You took the razor and you dragged across her writs. On each arm you dragged it 4 times and you watched the blood pool out of her arms. You gently removed the towel from her head, seeing her eyes were open and her mouth was moving.

 “I’m sorry” you breathed.

 It was an accident. You weren’t a bad person.

You took some blood from her wrists and she winched, you walked over to the wall and you wrote the words “I’m sorry” hoping that they might think that Dina is apologizing for her “suicide”.

 But in reality this was you apologizing to everyone you knew this was going to affect.

You got down on your knees and you cleaned the blood from Dina’s first wound that was still left on the floor. By the time the place was spotless Dina already too her last breath, as the sheets were soaked with her blood.

“I’m sorry” you apologized one more time before you jumped out the window running home.

The only regret you had that night was not getting Ellie’s number.

I know the tears we cried

Have dried on yesterday

The sea of fools has parted for us

There's nothing in our way, my love

“I’m sorry for your loss” you spoke softly.

“Who are you?” Ellie asked.

“I was a friend of Dina’s” you lied.

Ellie sniffled “do you know why she killed herself?” she asked as she looked at Dina’s grave again.

 “No” you muttered

“I thought she was happy”

"me too"

“Wait you’re that girl from the party” Ellie said after a few minutes of silence. Your stomach fluttered at the fact that she remembered you.

“Yeah” you smiled

You and Ellie spoke about Dina for a while, you made up stories about what great friends you and Eina were and you were happy that Ellie could finally talk to you.

The two of you exchanged numbers that day and you couldn’t be happier.

Dina didn’t die in vain. She died for you and Ellie to be happy. There was nothing standing in the way of your love anymore.

Don't you see, don't you see?

You're just the torch to put the flame to all our guilt and shame

And I'll rise like an ember in your name

I know I, I know

Why didn’t Ellie see? You were here for her since Dina’s funeral.

Why wasn’t she falling in love with you? Why didn’t she realized everything you’ve done for her? Every time you would show Ellie affection or love she never showed it back. Ellie saw you as an acquaintance not a friend and it was the hardest thing for you to accept.

You knew that deep down she loved you.

Maybe she’s scared of her feelings. Maybe she didn’t love you. Maybe you need to encourage her. Maybe you need to show her how much you loved her.

And that’s exactly what you did. You showed her.

You stared texting her more often, you started following her around. You sent her letters. And soon Ellie blocked you. She’d throw rocks at you when she’d see you.

 Ellie sprayed you with pepper spray once. Ellie was doing anything and everything she can to stay away from you. She even moved across the city to get away.

But you’d always find her. You’d always get her.

Ellie awoke something in you. Something primal, an animal instinct. You blame her for the way you’re acting. She made you this way.

You tormented Ellie for 2 months she got a restraining order against you. But that didn’t stop you. You just learned to become sneakier. You’d still follow her around you still text but for different number, you’d pretend to be different people.

Ellie was going to love you one way or another. You’d make her love you, with or without that stupid restraining order.

The restraining order reminded you of Dina. It was something that was in the way of you and Ellie’s love. The same way you got rid of Dina, the same way you could get rid of that restraining order. After all Dina was temporary, her life ended. The same was that restraining order was temporary. It will end eventually too, and you’d finally get your chance with Ellie.

I know everybody here, well, thinks he needs you

Thinks he needs you

And I'll be waiting right here just to show you

Everybody at this park wanted Ellie. You hated the way they stared at her as she walked. You hated all of this. You wish you could stick a knife into all their eyes sockets to make them all stop staring at her.

Ellie still hasn’t noticed you after all this time. Even after Dina’s death you thought you had something. But its ok. One day Ellie will realize that you were the one for her. One day she’ll see you the way you see her.

21 days left. 21 days before the restraining order expires. After 5 long years of watching Ellie from afar was soon coming to an end.

You’ll wait for her. Even if it takes forever.

She’ll come around, you know she will, and until then you’ll admire her till the two of you could finally be together.

Authors note: Another long one lmao, but remember you are loved and to always be kind. My requests and pm’s are always open for anything and anyone:)

Yours truly,

Zia <3

YOURE BACKKK!!!!! missed you very much <333

DADDYS HOMEEEEE!!! I MISSED ALL OF YOUUUI<333

Idk if you watched yellowjackets but i really think you would like it!

It got me thinking about ellie who lost her bestfriend (secret crush/love of her life) reader and cant part with her body and breaksdown when people find out she has it and take it away from her

Dont take her from me - ellie williams x reader

hi anon! i haven't watched it yet but its been on my watchlist... I've heard good things about it. Once again i got carried away... i hope you enjoy:)

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

requests are open, send me songs or your silly ideas:)

HUGE WARNING: grief, delusion, breakdown, body transport, psychological decay, corpses/dead bodies, disturbing comfort, jealousy, paranoia, anxiety, mental health strain, grave raiding, corpse handling, delusion, isolation, obsession, gore implied, graphic descriptions, blood, unsettling behaviour

Summary: Ellie’s always had control—until someone threatens to take the one person she can’t live without

masterlist

This story contains dark and emotionally intense themes—please read with care. You are responsible for what you consume online. Please read the warnings before reading.

The blood had dried on Ellie’s hands hours ago.

But she still sat there, legs numb from being folded too long, your lifeless form cradled in her arms like you might wake up if she held you tight enough.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

She didn’t even get the chance to tell you how she felt—how the thing in her chest wasn’t just a crush. Wasn’t just longing. It was hunger. Ached for you so deeply that she sometimes had to grip the edge of her desk just to stop from running to your house and spilling every ugly truth in her head.

Now she was sitting on the cold floor of an abandoned cabin, in the middle of nowhere, covered in blood and sweat and dirt—and none of it mattered. None of it compared to the way your body had gone still. Your breath, your light… extinguished like it was never there.

She pressed her cheek to your forehead. Still faintly warm.

“Don’t go cold,” she whispered, voice shredded from hours of screaming your name into nothingness. “Just stay a little longer. Just stay with me.”

She rocked slightly. Back and forth. Like she could lull you into staying. Like you were just sleeping off a long night.

And when the others came—Jesse, Dina, a couple others from Jackson—Ellie didn’t even flinch.

They saw her first. Then you. No one spoke. For a moment, all they did was stare.

Then Jesse stepped forward. “Ellie,” he said softly, eyes wide with horror, “we have to take her.”

She didn’t look up. “No.”

“Ellie—”

“No.”

Her voice cracked, sharp and shrill, and her grip around your torso tightened.

“She’s not—she’s not ready. She’s not cold yet. She’s not—” Her breath hitched. “You can’t just take her.”

Dina’s face twisted in pain. “El… we need to bury her. It’s not safe out here, there’s—”

“You don’t get to touch her!” Ellie roared, head snapping up. Her eyes were wild—bloodshot, soaked with grief and rage. “You didn’t know her like I did. You don’t even get it.”

She scrambled back as Jesse reached again, shielding your body like a wounded animal. Her fingers trembled where they clung to your clothes.

“She was mine,” she whispered. “I never got to say it—but she was. She was. And you’re not gonna put her in the fucking ground like she’s just gone. She’s not.”

She pressed a kiss to your temple. Desperate. Cracked. “I can keep her warm. I swear. I’ll—I’ll keep her safe. Don’t take her from me. Please.”

But your skin was cooling.

No amount of warmth from her hands, no matter how feverishly she held you, could stop the inevitable.

She had memorized every scar, every laugh, every stupid joke you told just to see her crack a smile. And now you were quiet. Hollow. Just an echo.

They had to sedate her.

It took three of them. She fought like a hellhound, screaming your name, kicking, crying, biting, even when the needle sank into her neck. Even when her body slumped in Jesse’s arms, unconscious… her fingers were still twisted in your shirt.

When she woke up in Jackson days later, you were gone. She lost it.

They wouldn’t tell her where they buried you. Said she wasn’t stable. Said she needed rest, time, healing.

She screamed until her voice gave out. Tore her room apart looking for anything you touched. Burned a hole through your favorite hoodie just trying to breathe it in.

She sneaks out that night. Finds the grave. It’s quiet. Peaceful. The dirt’s still fresh.

Ellie drops to her knees, hands shaking, and begins to dig. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. She doesn’t care. She needs to see your face again.

Needs to kiss you, one more time, even if your lips are cold. Needs to apologize for all the time she wasted. Needs to ask if you’d have said yes—if she had asked you out. If you’d have smiled, taken her hand, told her you felt it too.

When they find her in the morning, she’s curled up beside the half-opened grave, fingers bloodied, dirt under her nails, your name on her lips. She doesn’t even look up.

“She was the only good thing,” she whispers, to no one. “And I didn’t get to keep her.”

It had been six days since you died. No one had found the cabin. Not yet. She made sure of it.

The windows were boarded. The door—barred with a chair wedged under the knob. Every possible crack sealed tight. She'd left bloodied handprints on the wood floor from moving you again, and again, and again—trying to find the right spot, the one you’d be most comfortable in.

You were laid out on a mattress in the center of the room, tucked under a worn blanket she stole from your house weeks ago. Your hair combed back gently. Lips touched with rose balm. She even painted your nails.

“See?” Ellie murmured, sitting beside you, her knees folded tightly under her. Her fingers brushed the edge of your arm—skin pale, but not blue. Not yet. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

She hadn’t eaten in two days. Barely drank water. Her eyes were sunken, red-rimmed, skin tight across her cheekbones. But her gaze never left you.

Sometimes, she imagined you blinking. Sometimes, she swore you did.

Sometimes, she dreamed you whispered her name, and when she woke up, her ear would be inches from your mouth, waiting. Just waiting for it again.

It wasn’t decomposition. It was transition. That’s what she told herself. That the smell wasn’t decay—it was your soul trying to root itself in her.

That the darkening under your eyes wasn’t rot—it was exhaustion from everything you’d been through.

That the way your body stiffened wasn’t rigor mortis—it was just you being shy. You’d always been shy.

They came looking for her on the ninth day. A knock at the cabin.

“Ellie? Are you in there?”

Jesse.

Ellie blinked, gaze pulling from your face. She didn’t answer.

“Ellie, please. We just want to help.”

Help?

They didn’t understand.

They wanted to take you.

She stood slowly, reaching for the axe near the doorway. The one she'd been using to chop firewood—and threaten the shadows when they got too loud.

She looked down at you one last time. Her expression soft, loving, doting.

“They don’t get to have you,” she whispered, eyes glassy. “You’re mine.” Then she went to the door.

The floorboards are stained now. Not from you. From the others.

They tried to come in. They didn’t leave.

She had to do it. She had to. They would’ve taken you. Put you in the ground like you were nothing more than meat and memory.

You weren’t. You were everything. Still are.

Now it’s just the two of you again. The way it should be.

Ellie sleeps curled up at the foot of your mattress, arm across your ankle like a child holding a stuffed toy. She tells you stories. She sings to you—soft lullabies she remembers her mom humming, or songs she once heard you hum absentmindedly in the kitchen.

Sometimes she kisses your hand. Sometimes she cries and begs you not to leave her.

“I love you,” she whispers again and again. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I won’t let them bury you. You’re mine.”

The backseat of the truck smelled like copper and perfume. The perfume was yours. A bottle she stole from your bathroom before the blood dried. She sprayed it on you each morning like ritual. Like prayer.

The copper was blood. Not yours, mostly.

She had to kill the man who owned the truck.

He tried to take it—you. Said it wasn’t “right.” Said you were a body, not a person anymore. Said she needed help.

He didn’t understand. None of them did.

Ellie adjusted the blanket over your face again, tucking it neatly beneath your chin. The fabric clung wetly to your skin, the heat of the day making it damp. Your body… was changing. But she didn’t look at the changes. She looked at your eyes, still closed, eyelashes dark and perfect.

She turned the engine and drove.

You were going west. She didn’t have a destination. Not a real one. Just the vague echo of hope in the back of her skull that somewhere, someone out there could bring you back. Fix it.

There had to be a way. Science. Magic. Something. People resurrect dogs all the time in books, right?

So why not you? You were better than a dog. You were her.

Day 4

The desert was hot.

Your skin started to blister.

Ellie cried while wiping you down with a cool rag, her hands trembling. “I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve covered you better. You don’t like the sun, remember? You always said it makes you dizzy. I should’ve known.”

She stuffed ice in a towel and placed it under your neck. It melted within an hour.

Day 7

She changed your clothes.

It took two hours. Your limbs were stiff now, resistant, like you were mad at her. She apologized over and over again, kissing your hands, your face, your knees.

“You’re so cold,” she whispered, wrapping you in a hoodie that once belonged to her. “But I’ll warm you up. We just need to keep moving.”

Day 9

She saw the lights in the sky. Or maybe imagined them.

A roadside church with the word “HEALING” painted in blood-red letters drew her attention. She pulled over. Inside, there were no people. Just old books, dry flowers, and a candlelit altar.

She laid you there, right in the center, brushing your hair from your forehead. Then she got on her knees.

Prayed.

For the first time in her life.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please. I love her. I didn’t get to say it. Please just… give her back. I’ll do anything.”

The candles flickered. Her heart stopped. You didn’t move.

Day 12

You smelled worse now.

She lined the truck bed with herbs. Lavender. Mint. Anything she could find.

She kept the windows cracked so you could breathe. She never admitted—never—that you couldn’t. That maybe your lungs had stopped working long ago. Because you still looked peaceful. Still looked like you were sleeping. Still looked like you might say her name if she leaned close enough.

Sometimes she imagined you turning to her. Smiling. She started answering for you. Making conversations in the dark.

“Do you think we’ll find someone?”

Yeah, El. I think so.

“Should I stop driving tonight?”

I like the sound of the road. Keep going.

“Okay. I’ll keep going.”

Day 15

The truck ran out of gas in Arizona.

Ellie dragged your body through the sand, arms bruised and bleeding, sunburnt to hell. She tied you to a door she ripped off an abandoned house and pulled it like a sled. Her boots left deep tracks behind her. Buzzards circled above. But she didn’t look up. Didn’t cry.

Didn’t slow down.

“I’m taking you to the ocean,” she told you. “You always wanted to see it. We’ll go together. We’ll walk into the waves. Maybe that’s what you need.”

Your lips were cracked. Hollow.

But she smiled at you like you’d just said “thank you.”

Day 20

She made it to the coast. Somehow.

Body bruised, fingers blackened, lips crusted and bleeding, Ellie stood barefoot in the surf, your body laid out beside her on the wet sand. The tide rolled in. Foam kissed your toes.

She knelt beside you, her voice shaking. “This is it. If you’re gonna come back… it’ll be here.”

The moon hung above like an unblinking eye.

She took your hand, held it to her chest, pressed her lips to your temple one last time.

“Please.”

Silence.

“Please, wake up.”

Nothing.

The water rose. The stars flickered. Ellie’s tears slid down your dead face.

And then—

In the wind, she heard it.

Faint. Echoing. Gentle.

“I missed you too, El.”

Her mouth broke into a smile.

And when the waves swallowed you both whole, she didn’t fight it.

When Ellie opened her eyes, there was no pain. No sand. No salt. No hunger. No rotting flesh between her fingers. Just warmth. A low golden hum.

And you.

Sitting on the edge of a bed, hair glowing in the soft light. Wearing that shirt she loved on you, the one you always slept in. Your legs curled beneath you, a book open in your lap. You looked up, smiled.

“Hey.” Her breath hitched.

She looked down. Her hands were clean. No blood, no dirt. Her boots were gone. She was barefoot, the floor beneath her soft and cloud-warm.

“…Where…?” she croaked.

You tilted your head. “You’re home.”

Ellie staggered forward like a child learning to walk again, eyes wide, unblinking. “Is this—am I dreaming?”

You didn’t answer. Just opened your arms. She collapsed into them.

The scent of you—pure, unchanged—drenched her brain like a drug. Your skin was warm. Your breath against her ear as you whispered her name made her sob.

“I missed you,” she choked. “I missed you so fucking much.”

You stroked her hair. “I know. I waited.”

The house had no doors. No clocks. No sky. Just soft white light that never dimmed. It existed outside of time. And so did you.

You cooked together. Slept curled in one another’s arms. Sang songs in the silence. She traced your face every night, whispering prayers of thanks to whatever cruel or merciful god had made this possible.

But some things weren’t quite right.

You never left the house.

Never asked her questions.

Never said “I love you” first.

Sometimes, Ellie caught glimpses—your reflection in the window lagging behind, your voice echoing before you spoke, your heartbeat silent when her ear pressed to your chest.

But she ignored it.

Because she had you.

One Day…

She woke up and you weren’t there. The bed was cold. Empty.

She searched the house—every corner, every drawer. Screaming your name until her voice gave out. In the mirror above the sink, her reflection stared at her. But it wasn’t her.

Its eyes were black. Hollow. Its skin cracked. Decaying.

“You took her,” she whispered to it.

“You lost her,” the mirror answered.

She shattered it with her fists.

Later, she found you again. Sitting in the bedroom, combing your hair.

Like nothing had happened.

Ellie fell to her knees. “Please don’t leave again.”

You turned, eyes soft. “I didn’t leave. You just forgot where I was.”

Her hands shook as she touched your cheek. You were still cold.

Colder than before.

As the days passed—if you could call them days—you began to fade.

Literally.

Your edges blurred. Your voice softened into whispers. Your body, once warm, became translucent in the light. Ellie wrapped herself around you each night like armor, like a chain.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she hissed into your hair. “I won’t let you go again.” You didn’t respond. But you wept in your sleep.

One night, she woke up alone again. This time, you didn’t come back.

Ellie searched every room, howling like an animal. Her skin began to flake. Her nails fell off. She bled from the gums. The house, once warm, was now cold stone. Shadows whispered your name, mockingly, again and again and again. She clawed at the walls until they bled with her.

Then she saw the door. The first and only door. At the end of the hallway, pulsing like a wound. She stepped through.

On the other side: Both your bodies washed up by the ocean.

Her body, lying beside it. Rotting. Clutching your arm. And a figure, dressed in black, speaking gently.

“You can’t stay with her forever,” Death murmured. “This was your mind's lie. Your denial. It’s time to go.”

Ellie laughed. “Fuck off.”

She turned around, walked back into the house. Back into the version of you that smiled when she arrived. That never asked her to change. That didn’t cry when she kissed your cold mouth.

She never left again.

Ellie stayed in the house—forever rotting, forever hallucinating. Holding your fading, flickering ghost and convincing herself you were real. And in her head, in her twisted, love-drunk eternity, you always whispered the same thing before sleep:

“I’ll never leave you again.”

And even if it was a lie—

Ellie believed it.

When they eventually found your bodies, the costal shore reeked of sweet sick rot.

Ellie was thin. Hollow. Nails broken. Eyes vacant. But Ellie’s smile is peaceful.

She’s lying beside you, one hand holding your arm, the other clutched around a knife driven straight into her own heart. A blood trail leading from her chest to the outline of your body, as if she were trying to bleed into you. Return to you. Merge with you.

There’s a note, scrawled on the sand:

“She waited for me. I’ll stay with her now.”

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

☆ Ellie doesn't just accept the job—she calculates how long it'll be until you graduate. She marks the date on her calendar and labels it “her freedom”. Yours, not hers.

☆ She visits the city three times before committing Not for the faculty or salary. To check if it’s somewhere you could be happy.

☆ She only signs the lease when she finds an apartment with room for both your desks. Not “a place for your things”—a place that makes space for your mind.

☆ She leaves notes in your old books before she moves Sticky tabs hidden on pages: “I’ll be thinking of you here.” You find them one by one while she’s gone.

☆ She makes you a Spotify playlist titled ‘One Month Closer to You’ Every song is about longing, intellect, tension. She updates it weekly.

☆ Her coworkers think she’s engaged Because she always calls you “my person,” “my muse,” “the smartest girl I know.” They just assume.

☆ When you arrive, she’s waiting outside the airport with a stack of books. No signs, no balloons. Just texts you: “Got these for you. Hurry. I missed you too loud.”

☆ She can’t stop hovering around you as you unpack Helping, folding, placing things like they’re sacred. “This goes here, right? I want it how you want it.”

☆ She buys you your own shelf in her office Not for books—for your brain. “Put anything here. I want to look up and think of you.”

☆ She sets alarms to remind herself to text you affirmations while she’s on campus

“I love your brain.”

“I reread your thesis again. Still obsessed.”

“Is it normal to miss someone this much in the next room?”

☆ She starts citing you before you publish anything

In class: “As my partner once said…”

In her drafts: “(See private conversation, 3am, living room floor).”

☆ She smells your shirts when you're gone Keeps one in her drawer at work. Wears it when she misses you too hard to focus.

☆ Her computer background is a photo of your annotations Not even your face—your thoughts. The page you marked with “why does this hurt so good?” and 7 underlines.

☆ She traces the rim of your teacup absentmindedly while she works You're not even in the room. But she still needs to touch something that touched you.

☆ She recreates your old dorm setup in the guest room In case you ever miss it. In case she misses the version of you from back then.

☆ She writes down everything you say in heated academic debates Even when it ends in silence, she jots it down and rereads it before bed.

☆ She insists you help decorate her office on campus. Lets you hang art. Places your poetry beside her degrees. “Now it’s complete.”

☆ Her colleagues start quoting you in meetings Because she talks about you so much, they start thinking in your voice.

☆ When you wake up groggy and smart-mouthed, she lights up “I’ve missed that mouth,” she’ll grin. “Say something else unreasonably brilliant.”

☆ She buys you matching pens “I think better when you’re writing too.”

☆ She brushes your hair behind your ear mid-argument Just to keep you talking. She needs your voice uninterrupted.

☆ She kisses the back of your hand before every academic panel. Her ritual. For luck. For grounding. For you.

☆ When you call her “Professor Williams” in public, her ears go pink. But later? She whispers, “Say it again.” Lower. Softer.

☆ She kisses you when you’re reading—just to taste the words on your lips Always mid-sentence. “You’re intoxicating,” she mumbles. “Keep going.”

☆ She makes love to you like she’s defending a thesis Point. Counterpoint. Proof. Passion. She takes her time—citing every reason she needs you.

☆ She cries when you cook dinner your first night Not because it’s good. Because it’s you, barefoot in her kitchen, laughing like this is your forever.

☆ You catch her staring at your reflection in the window “You look like a poem in a glass case,” she says. “Too good for this world.”

☆ She builds you a journal archive. Every notebook you fill, she catalogs. Dates, topics, favorite lines. No one’s allowed to touch them but her.

☆ She keeps your texts in a folder titled “primary source.”

☆ Her entire lecture about literary eros is built around your first kiss. The students have no idea. But she’s trembling by the end.

☆ She wears your perfume on her scarf. Just a spritz. For when she has to spend long hours away.

☆ She rereads your old essays with tea on Sundays. Like scripture. Like they’re holy.

☆ She corrects her students gently when they say something you’d challenge “Actually, my partner once made a really good point about that…”

☆ She keeps your graduation photo in her wallet Next to her ID. Smiles every time she pulls it out.

☆ When she misses you, she opens your drawer and organizes it. Just to feel close. Just to feel useful. Just to do something with her hands.

☆ She carves your initials in the underside of her desk Childish. Obsessive. True.

☆ She kisses the corner of your mouth when you’re mid-paper. “You make academia look so damn good,” she whispers.

☆ She proposes with a first edition of your favorite book. The ring hidden in a cut-out. Inside the cover: “You changed everything I thought I knew. Say yes?”

☆ She dreams of your children reciting your papers Not hers—yours. “Can you imagine them growing up in this house full of your words?”

☆ She records herself reading your poetry out loud Plays it when she travels. Falls asleep to the sound of you.

☆ She buys you a necklace with her initials—written in your handwriting. “I want to be yours in every way.”

☆ She thanks you at every speaking event. “None of this exists without her.”

☆ Her students ship you both like a novel couple. You walk into her class once and someone audibly gasps.

☆ You say something offhanded like, “I love your mind,” and she can’t function for hours. She sits at her desk, head in hands, overwhelmed. You undo her with so little.

☆ She keeps your first handwritten note inside her wallet. Folded, fading. Still the most important thing she owns.

☆Her favorite outfit is whatever you like best. She’ll ask what you think of a shirt and wear it to lectures three days in a row after you smile at it.

☆ She practices your name in different languages She says it like it’s sacred. She wants to know how it sounds in every tongue.

☆ She builds a Google calendar for your moods. Just so she can anticipate what kind of comfort to give you on tough days.

☆ She tells you she loved you the moment you challenged her in class “It wasn’t the words. It was the way you meant them. The way you looked at me like I should know better.”

☆ When people ask what home is, she doesn’t say a city. She says your name. Always. “I moved for her. I’d move again. A thousand times.”

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

Hiii saw you do song reqs can you do waste my time essoa with Dina or Ellie

(Ps I really liked your mitski fic)

𝐖𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

This is another requested story! This story is based off the song Waste my Time by Essosa, 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 or send me a song and I’ll take it from there!

Warnings: cannibalism, murder, blood, dismembering of a body

Summary: Ellie questions if you really love her or if you were just using her to clean up your mess

(A message to whoever requested this, i deeply apologize if its too dark! It was supposed to be a nice lovey dovey thing but i got carried away:( If you need me to rewrite it, just let me know)

I knew you were gonna hit up my line

It was only just a matter of time

“Ellie” her voice sounded soft and pained through the phone “I did it again” she whispered

“Fuck baby I thought you said you’d stop”

“I’m sorry els” she cried “please come help me”

With a sigh Ellie ended the call, rubbing her eyes lazily. Ellie knew you were going to call her. She knew it would only be a matter of time before you reached out to her again. And she knew she shouldn’t go. She shouldn’t help you. You go yourself into this situation. You can get yourself out of it.

But it was as if a magnetic force drew you to her. The harder she fights the attraction she has for you, the more she wants you. You were dangerous. Ruthless.  This was a mistake. Falling for you was a mistake. But oh how Ellie loved you.

And here she was driving to your apartment. Your saving grace. No matter what you did, Ellie could never hate you. Even if that includes you murdering someone.

Was it a case of out of state, out of mind?

'Cause something 'bout you just ain't right

You told me that you were gon' see me later

Maybe you were tryna be sweet

Got me clutching on my pillow

And checking out the window

But what you want with me?

Do you really love me? Are you only using me? What are we? What am I to you? Do you really care about me? Do you even fucking love me?

The questions float around in Ellie’s mind. Ellie was on her hands and knees scrubbing the floors, trying to get the blood out of your carpet as you lay sound asleep.

You had a hold on her. A very unhealthy hold. Ellie can’t look at anyone else, she can’t think of anyone else. Hell, she doesn’t get turned on by anyone else but you.

She remembers those many nights where you text her saying you’ll come over. The nights where she’d stay awake looking out of her window, waiting for you like a dog waiting for its owner. The nights she stayed awake sobbing when you don’t respond to her. Everything you do, everything you say affects her. You consumed her. And fuck Ellie hates it.

Maybe you’re just being nice? Only talking to her out of pity. Or at least that what Dina says.

“Ellie she doesn’t love you. If she did she would’ve committed to you, all you are is a quick fuck”

And she knew Dina, was telling the truth, but she was in denial.  She ended her friendship with Dina on the spot because no one, absolutely no one says anything negative about you or your relationship.

Ellie’s eyes focused on your body, she watched your chest rise slightly. Ellie wiped the blood from her hands, on her jeans and she slowly walked to where you lay. She gently lay next to you, looking at the dried blood on your hands and mouth.

The first time Ellie met you, she knew there was something off about you. The way stared at people, the way you would always get steak and ask for it to be extremely rare. But just because you like getting your stake a little rare doesn’t mean you were mentally ill or something.

 But every time Ellie looked at you, there was something telling her to get away, don’t get involved, run

Don’t fall in love

If only she listened.

You and Ellie soon became friends with benefits. Hooking up, going on little dates. And even though Ellie knew you didn’t want a relationship she couldn’t help but fall for you. You were the only thing on her mind. And she thought over time she’d eventually move on. But no. Here she is two years later questioning if you really love her or not.

She doesn’t remember how it happened. All she remembered was walking into your apartment and seeing someone’s leg on the table. She still doesn’t know how you convinced her to help you kill people and to cut them up.

 For fucks sake Ellie should go the police, and she should get you into a mental hospital. But she cant. Because she loves you. Every time you’d call her crying and saying Ellie I did it again, she’d always come over and help you clean the mess. Ellie would spend hours dismembering bodies for you. She’d do anything for you.

And here she lay next to you once again, surrounded by blood and pieces of a random guy questioning if you really loved her, or if you’re only using her.

Where did you come from, baby?

And why'd you keep bringin' me down?

'Cause if you don't want me, baby

Then why you keep me around?

Boy, I don't want no drama

I got to move on in line

I won't let you cause me trauma

You just want to waste my time

It feels like a rock has been tied to her ankle, and she was thrown into the ocean slowly sinking as the water filled her lugs, drowning her. That’s what it feels like being in a relationship with you. Ellie is drowning in all these unanswered questions.

 If you didn’t want her, you should say something. You should stop giving her hope. Stop making her think she’s special. Stop making her think she has a future with you. You traumatized her, in more ways than one. She thought your relationship would be simple, filled with love, but god was she wrong. Were you putting spells on her? Why was she infatuated with you? These are just more questions that will go unanswered.

You’re a cannibal and god knows how many people you’ve killed. But you were Ellie’s girl. You were the light in her dark and depressing life. “Love conquers all” they say. And Ellie thinks that quote applies to your relationship. But love cant conquer all if it’s one sided. So once again she sat with the question, do you really love her or were you just using her to clean up your mess?

Haven't seen you in a minute

You probably wanna wrap me in it

Got me in deep, I just wanna hold you, tеll you all my feelings

Been cleanin' my room for hours

You better comе through with flowers

Your love is bliss, but I know

It feels like a rock has been tied to her ankle, and she was thrown into the ocean slowly sinking as the water filled her lugs, drowning her. That’s what it feels like being in a relationship with you. Ellie is drowning in all these unanswered questions.

 If you didn’t want her, you should say something. You should stop giving her hope. Stop making her think she’s special. Stop making her think she has a future with you. You traumatized her, in more ways than one. She thought your relationship would be simple, filled with love, but god was she wrong. Were you putting spells on her? Why was she infatuated with you? These are just more questions that will go unanswered. You’re a cannibal and god knows how many people you’ve killed. But you were Ellie’s girl. You were the light in her dark and depressing life. “Love conquers all” they say. And Ellie thinks that quote applies to your relationship. But love cant conquer all if it’s one sided. So once again she sat with the question, do you really love her or were you just using her to clean up your mess?

Haven't seen you in a minute

You probably wanna wrap me in it

Got me in deep, I just wanna hold you, tеll you all my feelings

Been cleanin' my room for hours

You better comе through with flowers

Your love is bliss, but I know

After that night, that Ellie cleaned your house once again. She hasn’t heard from you in weeks. She’ll never admit it out loud, but she missed you. She was lonely. She was starved for your presence.

But you not messaging her was a good thing, this could be her chance to move on. To find someone new. To finally fall out of love with a cannibal.

And she tried. She really did.

She went on dates, hook ups, parties, but nothing worked. No one was you. And Ellie soon realized she’s fucked for life. Your silence was probably a sign of you telling her hey! I’m not in love with you, but Ellie can’t give up. She won’t. You were the air she breathed. And she was going to get you back.

And that’s what she did. She showed up at your apartment, ignoring the blood splattered everywhere, she walked straight to your room. Before you could say anything Ellie smashed her lips into yours, tasting blood as she kissed you. A taste she had gotten used to at this point. The kiss was pure bliss, filled with passion and love.

And as she was kissing you she realized just how in love she was with you. She was in deep for you. And god, she won’t let go of you.

If you don't really care about it

And this ain't what you wanted

Then I gotta throw in the towel

But you don't you treat me like a child

And yell me, all these lies

I'm begging you, don't be cruel

Just say that we're through

All the times you’ve lied, manipulated and gas-lighted her should’ve made her leave you. Ellie knows you don’t care about her. She knows you’ll never leave her alone until she says you should. But she also knows she’ll never find someone better than you. In the last two years you were together, through the lies, you showed her the love she wanted, and she showed you the commitment you craved.

 And even as cruel as it is, even though it kills Ellie that you don’t love her, she’ll stay. She’ll always be by your side.

She thought she needed you to leave her to be a better person. But no, all she needed was to accept that you’ll never love her. And she’ll never be anything more than a cleaner to you. Her love and loyalty will be enough for the both of you.

She thought you were wasting her time, by trapping her in this loveless, and violent relationship. But all the time Ellie wasted on you was made up by all the nights you spent by her, and promised her sweet nothings.

You might only be using Ellie to clean up your mess, but she doesn’t give two fucks. As long as she’s with you killing and dismembering a couple of people is worth it.

Authors note: My second request! Thank you to everyone who has been requesting things! Keep them coming:) Remember requests are always open, you are loved and remember to always be kind!

Yours truly,

Zia:)