Heyy!! I Was Randomly Thinking About A Scenario Where The Reader And Ellie Are Cuddling On A Cold Night.

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.”

Omg I love how possessive you made Dina it should be the norm

firstly thank you! secondly real!!!! All the Dina fics are so sweet but i do imagine her as possessive in some areas.

WE NEED MORE POSSESIVE DINA!!!!!

ellie x reader who are dating and reader is doing her makeup while sitting in ellie’s lap and it’s all cute and fluffy and sweet???

Headcannons: simp!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

part 1

☆ Ellie always pulls you into her lap the second you pick up your makeup bag.

☆ She nuzzles into your neck like a clingy cat while you’re trying to blend foundation.

☆ “You’re so pretty it actually hurts,” she mutters against your shoulder.

☆ Her hands never stay still — they’re either around your waist or tracing slow circles on your thighs.

☆ She watches you do your eyeliner like it’s a live performance.

☆ “Can I kiss you now? Wait, will I mess up your lipstick? Damn it.”

☆ Ellie offers to hold your mirror, just so you’ll look at her more.

☆ She steals kisses in between products — always careful not to smudge anything.

☆ “Babe, don’t move. I’m committing this to memory.”

☆ You’re halfway through applying mascara when you feel her squeezing your waist tighter.

☆ Ellie gets pouty if you start your makeup without calling her over first.

☆ “I’m your makeup chair now. No returns.”

☆ She takes photos of you mid-process because she loves every stage.

☆ “You’re hot with half an eyebrow done. That’s talent.”

☆ Ellie keeps kissing the back of your neck and whispering compliments.

☆ She gets genuinely offended when you say you're "just doing a light look."

☆ “You’re not even trying and you look better than anyone ever has.”

☆ She tucks her chin on your shoulder and watches you in the mirror.

☆ “God, look at you,” she says for the tenth time in five minutes.

☆ If your brush drops, Ellie grabs it immediately like your personal assistant.

☆ Ellie insists she can do your makeup one day, just to be close to your face.

☆ She acts like your biggest fan and cheerleader while you do your look.

☆ “If I ever lose you I’ll die, just so you know.”

☆ She doodles hearts with your eyeliner on the mirror when you’re not looking.

☆ Ellie knows all your favorite products by name and shade.

☆ “Wait, don’t start without me!” when she hears the makeup bag unzip.

☆ She likes when you use her thighs as your table.

☆ Ellie traces the curve of your cheek with one finger while you apply blush.

☆ “You don’t need any of this, but damn it’s hot watching you do it.”

☆ She holds her breath while you do winged liner like it’s a high-stakes operation.

☆ Ellie’s proudest moment was the first time you let her apply your lip gloss.

☆ She gives a dramatic gasp every time you finish your look. “ART. LITERAL ART.”

☆ “Can I be your next canvas?”

☆ She takes pictures of your vanity setup because “a goddess deserves an altar.”

☆ Ellie keeps one of your used makeup wipes because “it smells like you.”

☆ She rubs your back absentmindedly while you blend concealer.

☆ “You have no idea how hot you are, huh? Let me remind you every second.”

☆ Ellie talks about your highlight like it’s a scientific phenomenon.

☆ She gets super jealous when someone else compliments your look. “I said it first, okay?”

☆ Ellie gets genuinely emotional watching you feel confident in your skin.

☆ Ellie fake pouts when you won't let her kiss you because you're not done yet.

☆ “If I mess up your lip liner I’ll cry,” she says before kissing you anyway.

☆ She refers to your face as her “favorite view.”

☆ Ellie has a playlist called “Makeup in My Lap” just for these moments.

☆ She insists her hoodie is the only one you’re allowed to wear while doing makeup.

☆ “Do you even understand what you do to me when you sit like this?”

☆ She whispers how lucky she is the entire time.

☆ Ellie always tries to sneak her fingers under your shirt while you’re distracted.

☆ She lets you use her lap for hours even if her legs go numb.

☆ “I’ll be your chair forever. Just don’t stop doing this.”

☆ She brags about how she got to watch the transformation happen in real time.

☆ Ellie posts mirror selfies of you two with “my muse” in the caption.

☆ If someone asks why you’re glowing, Ellie says, “It’s me. I’m the reason.”

☆ She gently removes your makeup for you at night, smiling the whole time.

☆ Ellie buys you makeup organizers even though you already have enough.

☆ “You looked like an angel in my lap. Not even being dramatic.”

☆ She reenacts your whole routine with exaggerated impressions just to make you laugh.

☆ Ellie keeps your favorite lip balm in her jacket “just in case.”

☆ “Do your makeup on me again tomorrow. I’ll cancel all my plans.”

☆ She watches GRWMs with you and pretends to understand the terminology.

☆ Ellie tells strangers “my girl’s better at eyeliner than anyone else alive.”

☆ She tries to learn all the steps just to feel closer to you.

☆ Ellie talks to your reflection in the mirror. “She’s perfect, huh?”

☆ “I want to be reincarnated as your beauty blender.”

☆ She once got aroused just watching you blend your foundation.

☆ Ellie memorized your makeup scent and goes breathless when she smells it anywhere else.

☆ “If loving you while you do makeup is wrong, I don’t wanna be right.”

☆ She always gets quiet and soft-spoken during these moments — completely in awe.

☆ Ellie says she’d let you contour her whole face if it meant you’d sit on her again.

☆ She ends every makeup lap session with: “You're art. And I’m the luckiest bitch alive.”

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

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

WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

THANK YOU, I LOVE YOU GUYS SM

I'm in actual fucking tears

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫: 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

This story is not based off a song! It’s my own little idea :)

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Jackson!ellie x fem reader

Remember requests are always open! Feel free to leave one!

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: mentions of death, suicide, overall depressing themes

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: What’s the point of living, if you aren’t by her side?

Ellie lay on her back with her eyes closed. The sun shining on her pale and freckled skin. She hummed at the feeling of the grass scraping against her arms. The soft sound of water gushing could be heard from below her, as the two of you lay on a hill, she couldn’t be happier. She was away from Jackson. Away from everything and everyone. And the love of her life lay next to her. Ellie smiled softly just thinking of you. This is what she has always wanted. To be with you, in a beautiful place far away from everything. She loved you more than anything. All Ellie wanted to do is keep you safe, and moving as far away from people and most living things was the best option in her eyes. The safest option. If the two of you were this far away from any infected and people you both would be safe.

Ellie’s thoughts of keeping you safe were interrupted by a soft whisper of her name. She turned her head to look at you, and you were already looking at her. Ellie gave you a soft smile, taking in your features. You’ve been together for years but fuck, you were beautiful. She wasn’t lying when she said you were the prettiest girl she had ever seen. Every time she looked at you, was like she’s seeing you for the first time all over again. She always wondered how she got lucky by getting someone like you. You were way out of her league.

You and Ellie lay there just looking at each other for a while, before you spoke up

“You know, you have to let go of me”

“I can’t”

“Ellie” you said, your tone sounding desperate and frustrated. You sat up and Ellie followed you by sitting up as well, you rubbed your hands across your face and you let out a sigh. Ellie gently put her hand on your shoulder.

“Please” you whispered, voice barley above whisper. “I can’t rest in peace” you continued your sentence

“You aren’t dead” Ellie said quickly

“I am”

“No you’re not” Ellie said loudly, tears running down her face as she got up and looked down at you

You looked up at her and gave her an apologetic smile “Ellie wake up”

“Baby please”

“Ellie wake up’

Ellie sat up in her bed covered in cold sweat and tears. It was dream. A fucking dream. Ellie laid back down with a huff, and turned to your side of the bed. She let out loud broken sobs as she reached out to grab your pillow and she held it to her chest sobbing.

3 months ago you and Ellie had got married. It was a beautiful ceremony, and you both were surrounded by your friends and family. It was everything Ellie dreamed of. Your wedding reminded her of all those wedding magazines she always saw when she was out on runs. She never imagined, that she would ever get married. Until she met you. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with you.

3 days after the wedding tragedy struck. Ellie hated it when you went on patrol, but they were short on people due to both Ellie and Jesse being sick. Ellie had a gut feeling that morning when she woke up. Something was wrong. But she pushed the feeling aside, not wanting to upset herself. Later that day Ellie went to the gates of Jackson to wait for you. She got into her best outfit and used some 22-year-old perfume. The high of being married has not run out yet and she planned to take you out that night. She still couldn’t believe it; you’ve been married for 3 whole days.

As Ellie made her way to the gate, paramedics were running to the gate, and her heart dropped at the sight. She saw people running to you. Your lifeless body laid there. Bruised. Bleeding. It was very obvious you were not breathing. And there was blood everywhere.

Tears fell from her eyes as she reached out to grab you, but Tommy held Ellie back as the paramedics were trying to resuscitate you.

Ellie screamed, she fought Tommy. She did everything to make him let go of her but she couldn’t, his grip was too strong.

Ellie watched as they tried. “Please baby” she begged over and over again. Broken sobs and sentences left her lips. Please just get up.  It felt like an eternity, but at some point they stood up. The paramedics gave Ellie an apologetic smile and apologized saying there was nothing they could do to save you. As soon as they said that Ellie’s world came crashing down.

As the months went by, Ellie lost herself. She doesn’t eat she doesn’t sleep. She can’t do anything but cry. She had no purpose. No one to look after. She felt worthless. Lonely. She felt lost without you. She was not going to move on. You were the only one for her. Ellie slowly walked to the bathroom, pained by all the memories this house has of you. Ellie didn’t want to live without you. There was no point.

Ellie spent that day with her family. And she was happy. Content. She made a choice. And she was happy with her decision. As she bid her goodbyes, the Millers watched her walk home.

“Don’t you think she was a little too happy?” Joel asked concerned about Ellie’s behavior.

“No, I don’t think so” Maria commented

 “Just be happy for her she’s healing” she added

Joel just nodded Maria’s words. There was definitely something wrong with Ellie.

Ellie laid on her side of the bed holding your pillow. She smiled at a picture of you, that was on the wall. Ellie’s eyes drifted from the photo, to an empty pill bottle.

“I’ll join you soon baby” she whispered.

“Not even death can separate us”

And those were the last words Ellie Williams ever said.

Her body was found two days later. As sad as it was, Joel knew how much she loved you. He knew she wouldn’t be able to live without you. All Joel hopes, is that if there is a god out there, that he put you two together. That you and Ellie spent eternity together. Because that’s all Ellie wanted. Ellie wanted to be with you forever. No matter who or what it takes, no matter who she had to hurt, she was going to be with you forever.

Authors note: Thank you so much for reading! Remember you are loved and to always spread kindness. If you have any requests or ideas feel free to let me know!

Yours truly,

Zia:)

Ellie Williams Masterlist

main masterlist

about me!

Stories˚₊۶ৎ˙⋆

- drunk running: You and Ellie have always been a storm—chaotic, coiled tightly, unspoken things woven into the silence between glances. One night, everything boils over. Fueled by alcohol, memory, and all the words neither of you ever had the guts to say sober, you're both forced to confront the version of love you’ve built: broken, frantic, desperate.

- look at us now: Caught between a turbulent past with Ellie and a slowly blossoming future with Abby, you're forced to confront everything you thought you knew about love, loyalty, and healing.

- under her desk: 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.

- to be near you: Ellie was quiet at first, just watching from the background — protective, helpful, always there. But her interest wasn’t harmless. What began as care turned into control, and slowly, you realized she was never going to let you go. Even when you stopped fighting, her obsession only grew stronger.

- the things we do in the dark: A late-night confession turns into something neither of you can take back. In the quiet moments between guilt and longing, you and Ellie finds yourself crossing a line — again and again — in the shadows of a relationship that was never meant to be theirs.

- don't take her from me: Ellie’s always had control—until someone threatens to take the one person she can’t live without

- she: When Ellie starts watching her a little too closely, it’s hard to tell where curiosity ends and obsession begins. What begins as quiet glances and subtle tension quickly turns into something darker—something neither of them fully understands, but both feel deeply.

- when the quiet breaks: Ellie Williams is living a peaceful life on the farmhouse with you—the woman who convinced her not to chase revenge. For a while, things feel almost perfect. But the past never stays buried.

- save your tears: Ellie Williams never wanted commitment. When you first tangled in each other’s sheets, it was her rules: casual, no strings, no complications. You agreed—half-heartedly. But feelings grew in the silence between skin and shadows.

- girlfriend: In a broken world, Ellie Williams becomes the one constant — protective, intense, and impossible to ignore. Their bond is complicated, but it’s all they have.

- drunk texting: After a night of drinking, a risky text is sent to Ellie — one that unravels buried feelings and turns their dynamic upside down.

- high enough: in which you wanted her

- your best friend: in which you wished she wasn't dating your best friend

- knee deep: in which ellie wanted you back

- sports car: in which she took you for a ride

- beneath the mask: in which she saved you

- one step forward, three steps back: In which your relationship always put you 3 steps back

- crimson days: in which she needed comfort

- quiet room: in which you needed comfort

- the cut that always bleeds: in which she left you bleeding

- Split ends: in which you needed help

- drunk words, sober eyes: in which you confessed

- planets: in which you went on a date

- latch: in which you were trapped

- frostbite: in which you shared a special moment with her

- losing sleep: in which you hated her

- dark red: in which she wanted you to herself

- wash day: in which she helps you with your hair

- rose: in which she cant forget you

- comfort: in which she helped you

- bubblegum: in which you fell in love

- I was all over her: in which she wanted to be all over you

- do you still dream of me?: In which you still dream about her

- laundry: In which you didn't fold the laundry

- bad dog: in which you treated her like a bad dog

- pretty girl: in which she showed her girl how pretty she really is

- mary (angst edition): in which you left her to rot

- things to do: In which they got their happily ever after

- satisfied: in which you were the perfect housewife

- in my feelings (angst edition): In which you fell for a loser

- dye it red: In which you dyed your hair red

- ultraviolence: In which she became the person, you've always wanted

- karma: In which you were her downfall

- twilight: In which you couldn't win Ellie's heart

- window: In which Ellie Williams made a big mistake

- in my feelings: In which you showed a loser, a great time

- mary (mental illness edition): In which Ellie wrote you a song.

- brooklyn baby: In which you were dating the world-famous Ellie Williams

- laugh it off: In which Ellie tries to fix your relationship after she was unfaithful

- cool about it: if Ellie couldn't have you, she'd make sure no one else ever will.

- she calls me daddy: You might be engaged but you still always go back to Ellie

- petals on the moon: In which Ellie regrets her decision

- night shift: In which you were the other women

- everybody here wants you: In which you fell in love with someone you couldn't have

- emily i'm sorry: In which Ellie is fucking crazy

- limit to your love: In which you got your heart broken

- I'm not a mountain: In which Ellie makes stupid decisions

- one night only: Ellie wanted needed to see you, but little did she know the one night she wanted to spend with you, would be her final night

- fake it: You and Ellie reminisce on how the two of you got together

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

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

- waste my time: Ellie questions if you really love her or if you were just using her to clean up your mess

- poision: Ellie knows your relationship is toxic, but she can’t help but go back to you.

- nobody; Ellie's biggest fear becomes a reality...

- is there someone else? All Ellie wanted was for you to forgive her

- infatuated: In which Ellie’s “small crush” turned into an obsession

- all the girls you've loved before: Two lost girls, finally found what they've been looking for in each other

- forever: What’s the point of living, if you aren’t by her side?

- moonlight : In which ellie gets high with her lover

series˚₊۶ৎ˙⋆

scream for me: In which not killing the pretty girl was the best mistake she ever made

part 1 part 2 part 3

Therefore, you and me: All you needed was Ellie

part 1 part 2 part 3

Her Sweet girl: in which you had enough

part 1 part 2

Loser Ellie

part 1 part 2

Professor Ellie

professor ellie masterlist

Brothers best friend Ellie

part 1 part 2

Simp Ellie

part 1 part 2

drabbles, hcs and short stories˚₊۶ৎ˙⋆

ellie taking care of sick reader (hcs)

toxic ellie (hcs)

douchebag ellie (hcs)

ellie warming you up (ss)

ellie saying you're a piece of art (ss)

I missed youu, I hope you’re doing well mentally and I’m looking forward to more of your work💗💗

Thank you pookie!! I have a few surprises for yall;))

can we please have a pt2 for bbf!ellie?😭

headcannons: brothers best friend!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

part 1

☆ Ellie’s confession wasn’t a soft one. It was raw. Blurted out late one night when it was just the two of you on the porch, sitting too close. Her voice trembled but her eyes never left yours.

☆ “I like you,” she said, almost angry about it, like it was your fault. “I’ve liked you for a long time.”

☆ You froze. Not because you didn’t like her back—but because you did, and that scared the hell out of you.

☆ The next day, you avoided her. No text replies, no opening the door when she knocked, no hanging around when your brother invited her over.

☆ Ellie noticed instantly. Her texts got more frequent. Shorter. More frantic. “Did I fuck up?” “Please talk to me.”

☆ When you left a group hang early, she stared after you the whole time. She didn’t even say goodbye.

☆ Ellie didn’t sleep much that first week. She laid awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering how she misread things.

☆ She started watching your house. Just sitting in her truck a few houses down at night. Waiting to see your light go off.

☆ She played songs she knew you liked in your brother's room, loud enough for you to hear through the shared wall. Hoping you’d listen. Hoping you’d knock.

☆ You didn’t. It made her worse.

☆ She started keeping things you left behind—a hoodie, a pen, a lip balm—and holding them like they were sacred.

☆ Ellie got moodier. Snappier with your brother. She barely made eye contact with him, but she was always asking where you were.

☆ You caught her looking at you from the edge of the hallway once. Her eyes were glassy. She didn’t speak.

☆ Her drawings? All turned into versions of you. Your hands, your mouth, your hair, the sad curve of your shoulder.

☆ She stopped hiding it. Started wearing her obsession like a badge, because if she couldn't have you—she needed to remember every inch of you.

☆ Ellie started showing up everywhere you went. Coincidence at first—until it wasn’t.

☆ Grocery store? She was there by the lemons, asking if you still liked green apples.

☆ Coffee shop? She was sitting at the back, watching you sip your drink, fingers tight on her cup.

☆ She wouldn’t talk to you directly. Just… look. Let the air buzz.

☆ Your friends noticed. One asked, “Is she stalking you?” You didn’t answer. You weren’t sure.

☆ Ellie started writing about you in her journal—paragraphs of frustration, lust, guilt, rage, and helpless longing.

☆ She imagined what your skin would taste like if you’d let her kiss you.

☆ She imagined saying your name and hearing you moan hers back.

☆ Every sketch was darker, more desperate. You with tear tracks, with your lip between your teeth, with bruises she imagined leaving.

☆ Her mind spiraled. She thought maybe you were rejecting her on purpose. Punishing her.

☆ She started dreaming about you. Wake-up-sweating, breathing-hard dreams.

☆ When your brother invited her over again, Ellie scanned the room like a wolf. You weren’t there. Again.

☆ “She’s been busy,” your brother offered casually. Ellie didn’t respond. Her jaw clenched.

☆ The silence became unbearable. You missed her. Wanted her. But you couldn’t act on it—not with your brother. Not with the mess.

☆ But Ellie was done waiting.

☆ She showed up at your place with a book she claimed you left behind. You didn’t. She just needed an excuse.

☆ You opened the door an inch. Tried to keep it cold. But your eyes gave you away. You still wanted her.

☆ Ellie stared at your lips the entire conversation. All two minutes of it.

☆ When you shut the door, she stood there for five more minutes. Breathing. Shaking.

☆ That was the night she made a decision: she’d make you tell her the truth—even if she had to corner you for it.

☆ You were coming back from class when you felt it—that prickle on your neck. The instinct. Someone watching.

☆ You turned and there she was. Hoodie, jaw set, standing at the mouth of the hallway.

☆ You tried to walk past her. She stepped in front of you.

☆ “Why are you avoiding me?” she asked, voice low, clipped.

☆ “Ellie, please—” you said, but your voice cracked.

☆ She moved closer. “No. You don’t get to run anymore.”

☆ You backed up, heart pounding, until your spine hit the cold concrete wall. Nowhere to go.

☆ “Did I scare you?” she whispered. “Is that it?”

☆ “No,” you whispered. “You didn’t.”

☆ Her hands hit the wall on either side of your head. Trapped. Her face inches from yours.

☆ “Then what?” Her voice broke. “You didn’t even give me a chance.”

☆ Her eyes were red-rimmed. Wild. “I tell you I’m in love with you and you disappear?”

☆ “Ellie, I’m scared,” you admitted. “You’re my brother’s best friend. If something happens, it’ll ruin everything.”

☆ “Something already happened,” she growled. “You ruined me the second you stopped talking to me.”

☆ Your breath hitched. Her lips brushed your cheek. “I dream about you,” she whispered. “Every fucking night.”

☆ “Ellie…” Your voice was soft, needy.

☆ She tilted your chin up. “Say you don’t want me. Say it and I’ll leave you alone.”

☆ You couldn’t. You didn’t. Your mouth parted—but no words came.

☆ And then—her lips crashed into yours.

☆ It was messy, all teeth and tongue and heat. Weeks of tension unraveling in one kiss that felt like it might end the world.

☆ Your hands gripped her hoodie like a lifeline, pulling her tighter, closer, until you couldn’t breathe.

☆ She kissed like she hated you for making her wait. Like she needed to memorize you.

☆ You whimpered into her mouth and she swore she almost lost it. Her hands fisted in your shirt.

☆ Her leg slipped between yours. She swallowed every sound you made.

☆ When she finally pulled back, you both were panting. Her forehead pressed to yours.

☆ “Fuck,” she breathed. “I’ve wanted to do that since I was seventeen.”

☆ “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t know how to handle it.”

☆ “You don’t have to,” she said. “Just don’t run. Please.”

☆ Her fingers traced your jaw. “I meant what I said. I like you. I’m not walking away.”

☆ “Even if my brother finds out?”

☆ “Let him,” she said, voice thick. “I’ll fight him if I have to.”

☆ You laughed softly, and Ellie smiled like she hadn’t in weeks.

☆ “So… what now?” you asked, breathless.

☆ She swallowed, eyes dark, voice hoarse: “Go out with me. Tonight. Tomorrow. Every day after that. Be mine.”

☆ You kissed her again. And this time, it wasn’t desperate—it was a yes.

Abby is so hottttttt

I want to kiss her pretty little face after sex with her and telling her that shes pretty and sweet 🥺 and i want her to make me stay in bed even if we have patrol and being all clingy and cute 🥺

#need her

Stay in bed - abby anderson x reader

hi anon! this deadass made me sigh out of singleness... i hope you enjoy:)

Pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

requests are open again! send me your silly thoughts:)

warnings: none

Summary: in which you stayed in bed

masterlist

The early morning sun filtered through the gaps in the blinds, casting golden stripes across Abby's bare back as she lay on her side, one muscled arm tucked under the pillow, the other draped across your waist. You were tangled in the warmth of her, limbs lazy and heavy, breaths slow. The blanket clung to your hips, your skin still humming from last night’s closeness.

You hadn’t meant to stay up so late. Patrol had been long and cold, but Abby had pulled you close the second you got back—no words, just warmth and need. The way she kissed you last night, with a mixture of urgency and tenderness, had left you aching in the best way.

And now, in the quiet hush of dawn, you traced the curve of her shoulder with your fingertips, marveling at how someone so strong could feel so gentle.

“I know you’re awake,” you whispered against her skin, your lips brushing just beneath her ear.

Abby groaned, pulling you tighter into her. “I don’t want to get up. Not if it means leaving this.”

You smiled, heart fluttering. “We have patrol in an hour.”

Her arm curled more securely around you. “Fuck patrol.”

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. “That’s not very responsible of you, Anderson.”

Her head tilted up enough to look at you with sleep-heavy eyes. “What are they gonna do? Fire me?” She smirked, then softened when she saw your flushed cheeks, your thumb grazing her jaw. “You’re too pretty. You make it hard to care about anything else.”

Your breath caught. Abby didn’t always say things like that—not out loud. She was more action than words, more presence than poetry. But when she did speak like this, it was honest, and it hit you deep.

“I want to kiss your pretty little face forever,” you murmured, echoing the sentiment you’d once written anonymously in your journal. You leaned in and did just that—soft kisses at the corner of her mouth, down the curve of her jaw. “You’re so sweet when you’re like this.”

Abby’s hand slid under your shirt—her shirt, really—resting just at your waist. “You’re clingy,” she teased, but her voice was laced with affection. “I like it."

You laughed again, curling up closer, hiding your face in her chest. “You started it. You’re the one who pulled me in the second we walked through the door.”

“That’s different,” she said, kissing the top of your head. “You looked cold.”

“And now?”

“Now you look like mine,” she whispered.

There was a long silence after that. The kind that felt sacred. The kind that didn’t need filling.

Eventually, you felt her shift and sighed as she tried to move. “Nooo, stay.”

Abby chuckled and collapsed back onto the bed with exaggerated drama. “Fine. But just five more minutes.”

“Fifteen,” you bargained, arms locking around her waist.

She kissed your forehead. “Fifteen minutes. Then we do something irresponsible, like skip patrol and make breakfast naked.”

Your laugh turned into a snort. “We’ll get arrested.”

“Worth it,” she muttered sleepily, eyes already drifting closed again.

You stayed there, wrapped up in her, heart full. Maybe the world was still broken in a thousand different ways, but here, in this bed, you had a moment of peace. And Abby. That was enough.