Immmmmm Going Insane Thinking About This 😿😿😿 Loser!ellie That Would Randomly Say To U After

Do you have a material list? 

i just made one!

You can find it here

Therefore you and me - Part 1/3 (elllie williams x reader)

This short series was inspired by the song "Therefore You and Me [故にユーエンミー]" Truthfully I don't know the meaning to the song so this story is literlly my theory to what it could be about :)

Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

requests are always open, feel free to leave one!

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse and toxic relationships

Summary: All you needed was Ellie.

Ellie was 3 when he hit her for the first time. She remembers the incident as if it was yesterday.

She remembered running around in the house when she tripped and dropped her sippy cup, her orange juice dripping onto the carpet. She remembers her father’s footsteps, she remembers him yelling, taking off his belt and hitting her till she couldn’t sit. And it was like that her entire life. Every small mistake she made, no matter how young she was. She was hit.

Growing up with a man as cold as the winter nights in Jackson wasn’t easy for Ellie. She never experienced the love, the warmth many girls her age spoke about, when asked about their fathers. All she knew was the sound of her dad’s footsteps, the yelling and the sound of his belt.

Even though the beating traumatized Ellie and she knew this was wrong. He was hurting her. But this is the only way her father gave her attention. This was the only way he looked at her. Touched her.

As messed up as it sounds Ellie started acting out. Doing stupid shit on purpose just to feel her father’s love, just to feel wanted by him. This form of love Ellie grew up with. This is all she knew.

His love language wasn’t words of affirmation; it wasn’t quality time it was hitting.

Ellie started hitting people as form of affection because that’s what her father did to her growing up.  That’s all she knew. That’s all she craved.

That’s when Ellie met you and she immediately fell in love. You were soft gentle, kind nothing like her father.

You weren’t like him. You actually showed her true love. But she couldn’t give you that affection back. She couldn’t hug you, she couldn’t comfort you. All she could do was give you the love her father gave her.

The first time Ellie hit you was 3 months into your relationship. You dropped a glass, it made a loud noise as the glass shattered onto the cold white tiles. And all you heard was Ellie’s footsteps, yelling and you felt your body hit the floor. You knew Ellie was violent. You knew she had a short temper but you never thought Ellie would hit you.

But you loved her, you forgave her. And you let her hit you. Over and over again.

Some nights you ended up bloody, bruised for weeks that you couldn’t even leave the house. You lied to people. You had to keep Ellie safe. You could fix her. You loved her.

Love conquers all they said.

Ellie watches you clean your wounds over and over again. She heard the way you’d cry yourself to sleep. How you’d whimper when you tried walking down the stairs. She watched how you flinched every time she came close to you. And every time Ellie would comfort you. Whispering sweet nothings into your ears telling you she would change:

“I won’t do it again”

“Forgive me baby”

“I love you more than anything”

“I’m doing this for you”

You believed that she’d stop. But the months went on. The abuse got worse. But yet you stayed.

“You only need me baby. Its only me and you” she whispered into your ear one night after she gave you a black eye.

you and me

you and me

you and me

love, love

Your family begged you to leave her. Many people have stopped talking to you. But you didn’t care. You don’t need anyone, only Ellie.

Only her

Ellie wondered why you didn’t leave her. You were losing people. Your family stopped talking to you. You cried. Begged her to stop. You’ve bled because of her. But you never left.

Ellie knew she was hurting you. She knew what she was doing was wrong. She can’t blame her father for hitting her forever, she can’t blame your abuse on her dad. But this was love. It was love in Ellie’s eyes.

She won’t stop. You knew she wouldn’t. She knew she wouldn’t.

You don’t need anyone. Anyone but Ellie. Even through all the abuse you’ll continue to love her because at the end of the day it’s you and Ellie.

“You and I will be together forever” Ellie whispered.

you and me

 you and me

you and me

love, love

Part 2

Authors note: Sorry if this one was short! I just had to post something. But I’m currently working on another series because of a very interesting request I got so just know something big is coming in the next two weeks… remember you are loved and to always be kind… requests are always open feel free to leave one!

Yours truly,

Zia <3

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

Idk if she would be smug or jealous 😭

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

☆ Ellie hears everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝: 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

This story is not based off a song! It’s my own little idea:) This is a very dark story, so please read the warnings to make sure you’re up for it…

Pairing: modern high school au!ellie x popular fem!reader

Requests are always open feel free to leave one! Or you can just send me a song and I’ll take it from there!

Warning: stalking, obsession, kidnapping, violence, death, mentions of lying next to a dead body and mass shootings, blood and suicide

Word count: 3.1k

 Summary: In which Ellie’s “small crush” turned into an obsession.

Ellie’s heartbeat raced, her palms suddenly felt sweaty, she felt dizzy. Her vision focused on the girl she was hopelessly in love with. Every time Ellie saw her, it’s like she falls in love all over again. Her name was y/n. A beautiful y/h/c, she had the prettiest y/e/c Ellie had ever seen. She was perfect in every way. Ellie was one of the many men and women that liked y/n. Why would someone as perfect as y/n ever look at someone like her. An autumn brown haired girl with freckles? You would never look at her. To say Ellie was in love with y/n was an understatement.

Ellie was infatuated with someone she could never have.

﹒ʬʬ﹒⪩⪨﹒⟡﹒ᐢ..ᐢ﹒◖﹒⇅﹒○﹒✿﹒⊹﹒∇﹒✸﹒⟢﹒❀﹒ᵔᴗᵔ﹒♡﹒

Ellie Williams. Many people would describe her as a loner. “She’s a weird kid” someone once said “she doesn’t even interact with any of us. I didn’t even know she existed” and truth be told Ellie was a quite kid. A very quiet kid. She never spoke or interacted with anyone because she can’t stand most people. Due to Ellie’s unusual silence, many rumors were spread of the poor girl. The rumors were people’s way of trying to figure out who Ellie was, Ellie’s favorite rumor about herself was, that she was a mass shooter at her previous school. Today was like no other for Ellie. As she walked down the halls people were staring and whispering. She was used to it at this point. She walked into her first class of the and once again all eyes were on her.

 “You’re late again” her teacher grumbled. Ellie rolled her eyes as she walked past her teacher. As she sat down, she flinched a little due to how cold her chair was. Ellie didn’t even take out her school books because she didn’t care. She propped her head up with her right hand- trying not to fall asleep. Ellie soon zoned out staring at the two posters in front of the class. The posters were for the class presidents voting, that was happening in a few days. The only two people left in the running were Abby Anderson and y/n y/l/n. If Ellie had to be honest Abby’s poster looked way more professional yours. She started at your poster that was decorated in pink and purple flowers. There was no way y/n was going to win with a poster looking like that.

“Hey” a voice whispered

 “Hey!” the voice said once again.

Ellie turned around slowly, hoping to scare away whoever this person was. And to her surprise her eyes met with y/n.

‘since when does she sit behind me?’ Ellie thought to herself.

“Sorry to bother you, but can I please borrow a pencil? I promise to give it back” she asked in a hushed voice. Normally Ellie would turn around and ignore them, but for some odd reason she bent down to grab her bag and she pulled out a pencil. As Ellie reached out to give you the pencil, her fingertips slightly brushed against yours. As soon as Ellie felt your fingers, the hair at the back of her neck stood up, goosebumps arose on her skin. It felt like her hand was on fire. Ellie’s mouth went dry; her breathing became uneven. She looked up from her hand to meet your eyes. ‘‘Thank you” you said softly. You offered her a small smile “I’ll give it back soon”

Ellie sat in the school bathroom in awe. Even though the bathroom stall was small and it stank, Ellie sat there in awe. y/n. y/n y/l/n touched her hand. For the first time since she’s moved to Jackson, Ellie finally got a good look at you. Ellie saying you were beautiful was an insult. You were more than breathe taking. And your perfume- god your scent was intoxicating. Ellie’s mind was filled with many thoughts as she stared down at her hand. Once again the thought ran through her mind: y/n touched her hand.

Ellie let out a deep sigh as the bell rang. She threw her green and black backpack over her shoulder as she started walking to her class.

 “There you are” a voice said, Ellie immediately recognized the voice. y/n. Her y/n. When Ellie turned around she saw you walking towards her. You weren’t walking to anyone else, you were walking to her. As you were walking towards Ellie- as cliché as it sounds- everything around her went silent. She couldn’t focus on anything else but you walking towards her.

“Thanks for the pencil! You saved my life back there!” You said with a laugh

“She has a pretty laugh” Ellie thought to herself. Ellie stared at you with no emotion. She wasn’t trying to scare you away; she was trying to memorize your features. The way your lips curled when you laughed, the was your eyes closed, the way your laugh sounded. Normally Ellie would walk away. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. You said a quick goodbye and walked away. And Ellie stood there in shock. y/n spoke to her. You laughed at her. You touched her hand and you used her pencil.

And in this very moment everything began. The beginning of the end. This was the moment when Ellie Williams became infatuated with y/n y/l/n.

﹒ʬʬ﹒⪩⪨﹒⟡﹒ᐢ..ᐢ﹒◖﹒⇅﹒○﹒✿﹒⊹﹒∇﹒✸﹒⟢﹒❀﹒ᵔᴗᵔ﹒♡﹒

It’s been 3 months since Ellie and y/n interacted for the first time, and Ellie has been smitten ever since. Ellie’s little crush on y/n soon grew out of control. It wasn’t even a crush. It was an obsession. An addiction. Ellie started off small, with quick glances from across the classroom or the cafeteria. Then Ellie memorized her class schedules and followed her to every class to make sure she got there safe. But suddenly everything became worse. Her obsession started to grow. Ellie started following y/n home, breaking into her house, stealing small things, watched her sleep, and stared at her from her window. Ellie became a stalker. In Ellie’s eyes what she was doing wasn’t wrong, because she wasn’t hurting anyone. Ellie saw her behavior as normal. When you’re in love, it makes you do crazy things, right?

Ellie was content with following y/n around until she found out there was another guy inserted in her. Her y/n. Her girl. And Ellie soon realized if she doesn’t do anything shell loose y/n to someone else. She had to get rid of him. Ellie once again sat in the small, stinky bathroom stall and thought of ways she could rid of him. Murder? Ellie could kill him. But what happens if she got caught? If she gets caught shell never be able to see y/n again. She was definitely not going to kill anyone. Her only solution was, was to ask y/n out before anyone else could.

It had been a few days since Ellie decided she would ask y/n out on a date. Ellie planned exactly how she was going to ask you. So when everyone was in class Ellie went to your locker, and left a note saying “meet me on the rooftop at 3 pm”.

Ellie has never been more nervous. She felt nauseous. Her hands were shanking as she stood on the rooftop watching all the students walk home.

 “Ellie?” She heard her girl call her.

Ellie took a deep breath as she picked up the flowers she put on the ground. You walked closer to her, and Ellie turned and quickly you the flowers without saying anything. You have her a questioning look, confused on why she just gave you flowers. Before you could ask anything Ellie quickly said the words: “will you go on date with me?” Ellie closed her eyes tightly in fear that you might reject her. Ellie felt your soft hand touch her face, her closed eyes immediately opened and widened at the gesture. And to Ellie’s surprise you said yes.

﹒ʬʬ﹒⪩⪨﹒⟡﹒ᐢ..ᐢ﹒◖﹒⇅﹒○﹒✿﹒⊹﹒∇﹒✸﹒⟢﹒❀﹒ᵔᴗᵔ﹒♡

In all her years of living Ellie never thought she would be sitting across from you. Her girl. The prettiest girl she had ever seen. The love of her life. You wore a pretty pink dress that Ellie had seen in your closet the last time she was there. She has dreamed of seeing you in this dress now you were sitting across from her wearing it, just for her. Ellie was in awe of how beautiful you looked.

Your date went well. You told her things about yourself that she already knew by following you around and by breaking into your house- but you didn’t need to know that. You seemed happy and comfortable around her and that made Ellie happy. She didn’t want you to be scared of her like the others.

 And at some point during the date you reached across the table to grab her hand. Ellie was on cloud 9. Butterflies erupted in her stomach. She felt like she was going to pass out. With her palms sweaty, heart racing and high on the scent of your perfume, Ellie got up to pay the bill.  Ellie’s plan was to take you on a nice walk through a private park, and she’ll ask you to be her girlfriend. And hopefully you’ll say yes. Ellie prayed to whichever god there was to: please let her say yes.

As Ellie and y/n walked to the park a cool breeze filled the air. y/n let out a shiver, and Ellie immediately took off her jacket and gave it to the girl walking next to her. Even after all y/n’s protests, she finally took the jacket and put it on thanking Ellie for the kind gesture. And a huge grin appeared on Ellie’s face. Her girl was wearing her jacket. When they finally reached the park Ellie realized that her shoe lace was untied. Ellie quickly apologized to her girl, and she bent down to tie it.

Ellie suddenly felt a warm liquid ran down the back of her head. Ellie fell face first into the ground. Her vision was blurry as she tried turning around. The last thing she remembers was your voice saying “its ok Ellie, just close your eyes” and suddenly everything went black.

﹒ʬʬ﹒⪩⪨﹒⟡﹒ᐢ..ᐢ﹒◖﹒⇅﹒○﹒✿﹒⊹﹒∇﹒✸﹒⟢﹒❀﹒ᵔᴗᵔ﹒♡﹒

Despite y/n’s popularity she always felt alone. Yes, she had many friends and yes, she was constantly surrounded by people but she felt alone. But then she met Ellie Williams. Ellie was attractive, no one could argue with that. Ellie was quite, and weird and y/n has heard all the stories that were spoken about Ellie, but she never believed it for one second. But that one faithful day when she borrowed a pencil from Ellie everything changed. You were in love with Ellie even when she didn’t utter one word to you, you were head over heels for this girl.

Y/n knew Ellie followed her home. She knew when Ellie was in her house. When most people would be afraid, y/n loved it. y/n loved it when Ellie was in her house because it felt like Ellie was closer to her. Y/n has never met anyone as dedicated to her as Ellie was. When Ellie finally asked y/n out on a date the girl was over the moon. As she was getting ready for the date, she spoke to the pictures she had of Ellie. Pictures she took of Ellie while Ellie was asleep, and pictures she paid people to take of Ellie. She spoke to the pictures telling them about how bright of a future the two of you had together.

Y/n knew the hold she had over Ellie but she wanted to take it to the next step. She wanted to keep Ellie all to herself. She didn’t want to risk Ellie getting bored of her and finding someone else. y/n already saw the waitress stare at Ellie, and in that moment she knew she had to do something. And that something was capturing Ellie. As Ellie bent down to tie her shoelace, y/n quickly grabbed a rock and hit her over the head, making Ellie fall to the ground.

Now y/n stood across her unconscious body, tied up to a chair in her basement and she couldn’t be happier. Ellie was here, with her. Forever. Ellie. Her Ellie. The love of her life, would stay with her forever.

﹒ʬʬ﹒⪩⪨﹒⟡﹒ᐢ..ᐢ﹒◖﹒⇅﹒○﹒✿﹒⊹﹒∇﹒✸﹒⟢﹒❀﹒ᵔᴗᵔ﹒♡﹒

Ellie stared at the ceiling with a small smile on her face. She had a pounding headache, but she kept on smiling. Ellie first freaked out when she woke up. Being tied up to a chair in a basement with a dim light shining over you wasn’t an ideal situation to wake up to. But after a few minutes she realized in who’s basement she was. y/n’s basement. Ellie was tied up in y/n’s basement. That could only mean one thing. You liked Ellie back. You liked her so much that you kidnapped her and tied her up. She was just as messed up as Ellie was, and Ellie was happy. She was happy that you liked her back. Ellie had somehow managed to untie herself, and she just sat there waiting for you. She waited for her girl to come get her.

It felt like hours went by before Ellie finally heard voices. She frowned when she heard there was someone else with you. The basement door opened and Ellie ran to hide under the stairs. Ellie peaked through the wooden planks as she heard you call out her name softly. Ellie loved it when you said her name.

 Before Ellie could reveal herself, she saw a man walk down the stairs to talk with you. Her girl was talking to someone else. Ellie was suddenly filled with a blinding rage, Ellie immediately came out of her hiding spot, she heard you say her name, but she walked straight to the man and tackled him to the ground. As soon as Ellie tackled him she heard her girl let out a scream but she couldn’t stop herself from getting rid of this man. Ellie grabbed a chunk of his hair and hit his head reputably into the floor. Blood splattered everywhere, his brains soon poured out.

The room was filled with Ellie’s grunts, your cries and the sound of bones breaking. When Ellie finally decided she has had enough of beating the man her attention turned to you. Your eyes were puffy and swollen from the screaming and crying. You looked at Ellie fear all over your face and Ellie hated herself for what she was about to do.

 “I’m sorry” Ellie whispered as she picked up the chair. She walked over to you.

“Ellie please don’t do this” you begged looking into her eyes.

“I’m not going to kill you baby” she promised “you just have to sleep for a while, while I clean this up, ok?”

Ellie raised the chair over her head and you let out a whimper. She swung the chair at you and filched when your body fell unconscious onto the cold floor. She turned her attention back to the other body on the floor.

“looks I have my work cut out for me” she chuckled as she looked at the blood and brains splattered everywhere. Ellie turned back to you and left a quick kiss to your forehead

“don’t worry baby I’ll be quick”

﹒ʬʬ﹒⪩⪨﹒⟡﹒ᐢ..ᐢ﹒◖﹒⇅﹒○﹒✿﹒⊹﹒∇﹒✸﹒⟢﹒❀﹒ᵔᴗᵔ﹒♡﹒

Ellie looked at herself in the mirror. She was very nervous. She put on her best suit and sprayed on her most expensive perfume. She held the flowers tightly in her hand as she walked over to her bed, where you were laying. Your face was pale, your skin cold to the touch. Your skin was probably this cold because you’ve been dead for a couple of days, but you were still beautiful.

After the incident in the basement, Ellie had actually hit you a little too hard, which had led to your death. And now you lay here, on Ellie’s bed wearing a white dress, and an engagement ring. You were finally hers, and Ellie couldn’t be happier.

Ellie gently placed the flowers on your chest, and she slowly laid next to your dead body. She breathed in the scent of the body wash she used on you, to prepare you for this day. Ellie played with your hair while she thought of everything that happened these last few days. The good memories and the bad. But what ever happened doesn’t matter anymore because she lay next to you. The love of her life. You lay with her and no one else.

And Ellie was ready to join you. She wanted to spend the rest of eternity with you. You’ll be with her forever in the fare life. Your souls will be together forever and always.

﹒ʬʬ﹒⪩⪨﹒⟡﹒ᐢ..ᐢ﹒◖﹒⇅﹒○﹒✿﹒⊹﹒∇﹒✸﹒⟢﹒❀﹒ᵔᴗᵔ﹒♡﹒

Authors note: Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this one. Remember you are loved, and to be kind with everyone… requests are always open, feel free to leave one.

Here is a cool ass edit to make up for the trauma I've caused you through this story<3

Yours truly,

Zia:)

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

☆ Ellie knows she’s going to marry you long before she tells you. She buys the ring three months into living together. Keeps it hidden in her desk drawer beside annotated books and letters from you.

☆ She proposes on the floor of your shared office. Not at a dinner, not with a crowd—just soft music, ink-stained fingers, and a whispered: “Be my always. My only. My mind, my muse, my wife.”

☆ The ring is engraved with a quote from your writing. Not hers. Yours. "You make knowledge feel like coming home."

☆ She asks your opinion on “proposals in literature” a week before. You think she’s researching. She’s just trying not to cry at the idea of you saying yes.

☆ When you say yes, she buries her face in your neck and shakes. Not from nerves. From relief. From awe. From the raw ache of being loved back.

☆ She starts referring to you as “my fiancée” constantly. In grocery stores. On campus. During panels. “My fiancée’s theory on this is actually quite relevant…”

☆ She changes your contact name to “Almost My Wife.” With 3 hearts and a lock emoji.

☆ She sleeps with her hand resting over yours every night. On your ring finger. She checks it like it’s her most sacred relic.

☆ She updates her entire academic bio to include you. “Currently lives with her partner, her muse, and greatest intellectual influence.”

☆ She teaches a lecture titled: “The Intersection of Intimacy and Intellectual Devotion” She’s talking about you. The class has no idea.

☆ Ellie wants a tiny wedding—just you, the vows, and a quiet lake. But if you want more, she’ll plan a thousand-guest celebration without blinking. “You say the word and I’ll build the world for you.”

☆ She insists on writing her vows by hand. In her favorite pen. On pages she slips under your pillow the night before.

☆ She practices saying “wife” alone in her car. Wife. Wife. Wife. She can’t stop smiling.

☆ She hides love notes inside the wedding checklist binder. You find one labeled: “Stop reading this and come kiss your future.”

☆ When you choose your dress, she sketches you in it from memory that same night. Adds it to her journal. Dates it. “The day I saw her and forgot how to breathe.”

☆ Her friends throw her a chill night in. But she sneaks off to call you every hour. “I can’t even pretend to want to be anywhere you’re not.”

☆ You write each other letters to read before the ceremony. She cries through hers. Has to reapply mascara. Still keeps the tear-streaked one folded in her breast pocket.

☆ She makes a playlist of songs that remind her of your earliest days. Plays it while getting ready. One track in, she’s sitting down, hand over heart, whispering: “Holy shit. I’m marrying her.”

☆ She starts dreaming of your last name beside hers on academic papers. No hyphen. No division. Just unity.

☆ You give her a watch as a pre-wedding gift. She whispers: “I’ll count every second I get with you.”

☆ When you walk down the aisle, Ellie mouths “mine.” Once. Quiet. Like a prayer.

☆ She cries when you hold her hands. Not one tear. A whole storm. Her lips tremble when you say her name.

☆ Her vows start academic and crumble into desperation. “I thought I understood devotion—until you. You rewrote me. I’m yours now. Completely.”

☆ Her fingers shake when she slips the ring on yours. But her voice never falters: “With this, I give you everything.”

☆ She kisses you like no one is watching. It’s not performative. It’s urgent. She’s been waiting forever.

☆ She refers to you as her wife every chance she gets. Out loud. On paper. In conversation. She beams every time.

☆ She can’t stop touching the ring on your hand. Kisses it. Spins it. Holds it during dinner. “Still feels like a dream.”

☆ She hangs your wedding photo above her desk. Right beside her degrees. “My greatest achievement.”

☆ She uses your wedding date as her new password. She’ll never forget it. She couldn’t.

☆ She journals the first 365 days of your marriage. Every little thing. Every breakfast. Every smile. Every time you say her name like it means everything.

☆ She changes her legal name just to have part of yours. No one expected it. But she wanted it.

☆She introduces herself at lectures as “Dr. Ellie Williams—but more importantly, a wife.” Every time. Her proudest title.

☆ She builds a library with your last name engraved at the entrance. It’s her gift to the university. Her devotion in bricks.

☆ She keeps a framed note that says “You said yes.” Next to the ring box. Beside her bed.

☆ When you fall asleep first, she whispers: “Married you. Won.”

☆ She keeps your wedding vows on her desk at all times. Reads them when she feels lost.

☆ She starts calling you “my forever” in texts. Even to herself. Especially when you're not around.

☆ She wears her ring when she lectures. And if she forgets it? She’ll cancel class. That’s how wrong it feels.

☆ She celebrates every mini-anniversary. First date, first kiss, first “I love you.” “Why wouldn’t we honor our history?”

☆ Her phone background is a photo of your hand in hers. Wedding rings shining. Sunlight catching on your fingers.

☆ She saves every note you leave her, even grocery lists. “Married girl handwriting,” she says with a grin. She signs every card, “your wife, your fool, your scholar.”

☆ When she wins awards, she thanks you before anyone. “For keeping my soul fed while I chase knowledge.”

☆ She keeps your last name on her lips like a spell. Soft. Reverent. Yours.

☆ She reads your vows aloud every year on your anniversary. Her voice always cracks by the second paragraph.

☆ She builds you a bench at the lake where you married. With a plaque that reads: “Where I became hers.”

☆ She keeps your bouquet dried and shadow-boxed in her office. Next to a note: “Every day since has been full bloom.”

☆ She still asks you to dance in the kitchen. Same song. Same rhythm. Same girl.

☆ She rereads the proposal letters every winter. Wears your old hoodie and says: “Still can’t believe.”

☆ And when she’s asked what love is, she says: “It’s when you look at someone and think: If I never wrote again, I’d still have said everything I ever needed—just by choosing her.”

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

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

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

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

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

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

“it’s pretty” you muttered

“you’re pretty” she said with a smile

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

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

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

Your brows furrow, at the thought.

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

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

“what the fuck Abigail”

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

“Yeah my wife and I went there”

“she’s my wife”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“dude what’s this?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Abby!”

Abby felt Aubrey pinch her arm at the gremlin comment

“why would you-“

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

sometimes it felt like you were living with children.

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

“I’m carrying the rings?!” she yelled

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

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

“please”

“Abby its bad luck”

“fuck the bad luck”

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

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

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

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

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

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

☆ Milf Abby who gets cold feet.

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

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

Someone who won’t die soon.

You needed more than Abby.

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

She should call this off.

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

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

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

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

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

Abby lifted her head to what her father said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She whispered “I’ll love you forever”

“I love you too abs, forever and always”

can we get more abuser ellie headcannons/drabbles :)

Headcannons: toxic!ellie williams x reader

Hi anon! I just wanted to say a few things before I start. This not your fault and I’m not mad at you for requesting this. Thank you for your request and I hope you like what I have done<3

Before we start I would like to say a couple of things. I am in no way, shape or form trying to romanticize abuse. Abusive relationships and situations are traumatic to those who have experienced it. In my therefore you and me series I did write about abuse and I tried not to romanticize it. That is why I killed Ellie’s character at the end because of she had done. So once again, let’s not romanticize this, because people lose their lives daily because of it. I deeply apologize to those who I have hurt and triggered in my series. I do want to disappoint whoever requested this so I changed it into toxic!Ellie x reader with a not so toxic ending.

☆ Toxic Ellie who met you in a bar one night and immediately fell head over heels for you.

☆ Toxic Ellie who stomach churned every time she saw you interacting with your friends. ‘

☆ Toxic Ellie who started taking your phone while you were asleep to check if you were cheating.

☆ Toxic Ellie who started following you to work every morning to make sure you weren’t talking to any other girl.

☆ Toxic Ellie who would lose her shit when she saw you smile with someone else.

☆ Toxic Ellie who makes multiple accounts on social media to threaten your coworkers and friends.

☆ Toxic Ellie who comforts you as you cried because none of your friends wanted to talk to you anymore.

☆ Toxic Ellie who gets a job directly across the café where you work so watch you.

☆ Toxic Ellie who starts arguments with you because she doesn’t like when you talk to other people.

“just fucking leave me already” she yelled.

“Ellie why are you yelling? She literally just helped me carry my groceries”

“don’t fucking lie, if I didn’t show up, you would’ve fucked her”

☆ Toxic Ellie who cuts up your clothing when you have to go out, and then you have to stay home with her.

☆ Toxic Ellie who gets emotional when you don’t respond to her within one minute

“you’re probably fucking someone else”

☆ Toxic Ellie who threatens you if you try to leave.

“you’re a bad person” you spoke through tears

“I swear if you leave me I’ll kill anyone who comes near you”

☆ Toxic Ellie who hacks your social medias and reads your DM’s because she’s scared you might find someone else.

☆ Toxic Ellie who starts going to therapy because you threatened her with a restraining order.

☆ Toxic Ellie who talks about her childhood and how much she hated her parents.

☆ Toxic Ellie who realizes that she has attachment issues.

☆ Toxic Ellie who realizes her behavior was bad.

☆ Toxic Ellie who shows up to your apartment sobbing and apologizing.

☆ Toxic Ellie who goes to therapy twice a week, and learns ways to deal with her issues.

☆ Not so toxic Ellie who forgives her parents and moves on.

☆ Not so toxic Ellie who finally moves on from her trauma.

☆ Not so toxic Ellie finally living a happy and normal life with you.

☆ Not so toxic Ellie who finally gets a happy ending.

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.”

Ellie Williams x BPD! Reader please 🙏

Split Edges - ellie williams x reader

hi anon! i hope you enjoy:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts

Warning: Intense emotional themes, self-sabotage, swearing, dark thoughts, panic attacks, co-dependency, manipulation, and one shocking betrayal

Summary: in which you needed help

masterlist

“I’m sorry I go from loving you to hating you in minutes.

I’m sorry I can’t tell what’s real.

I just don’t want to lose you.”

Ellie met you when she was at her worst.

And you?

You were a wildfire in human skin.

Charming one second. Distant the next.

Your moods didn’t shift—they switched. On and off. Light and dark.

And Ellie, for all her trauma-hardened edges, found herself drawn in.

You saw her, truly saw her. Not as a weapon or a survivor.

But as someone worth loving. That scared her.

But not as much as how fast she fell.

You loved hard. That’s the thing no one tells you about BPD.

It’s not drama—it’s devotion.

When Ellie laughed, it filled every empty part of you. When she touched your hand, it was like being stitched back together.

But the fear was always there.

She could leave.

And if she left, you’d unravel. So you tried to hold tighter. Love harder. Be perfect.

But no one can be perfect forever.

Ellie started pulling away after you had your first episode in front of her. You saw her glance at someone else for half a second too long.

Your stomach dropped.

Your heart snapped.

“You’re bored of me,” you said. “You’re already looking for someone else.”

“What?” she laughed, confused. “I just asked them for extra ammo—”

“No,” you snapped. “I saw you.”

The fight lasted hours. You cried. Screamed. Threw your knife into the wall.

Ellie didn’t leave.

But she didn’t touch you either.

And that’s when you knew:

She was starting to fear you.

And that made you hate yourself.

So you punished yourself. Silently. The way you always did.

But Ellie noticed the new scar.

One night, she sat across from you, voice low.

“I want to be with you,” she said. “But not like this. You have to get help.”

“I am help,” you hissed. “I’m the only one who’s stayed.”

“You love me so much you’re destroying me.”

That shut you up.

Because maybe she was right.

So you made her a promise: you’d try.

You’d get better.

For her.

And for a while, you did.

You journaled. You started meds. You smiled more. You apologized when you snapped instead of vanishing for days.

Ellie let her walls down again.

And things were good. Too good.

That’s how you should’ve known something was coming.

The knock at the door came on a rain-heavy evening. You opened it to find Dina.

Alive. Shaking. Pale.

“She told me you were dead,” she said to you.

You blinked. “What?”

“She said you lost it during a raid. That you bled out in her arms.”

“I’ve never even been in a raid,” you said slowly.

Dina stared at you.

Ellie had lied.

Not about you.

About Dina.

Because while Ellie had been healing you…

She’d been hiding the fact that she never stopped loving someone else.

You confronted her that night.

“You said she was gone.”

Ellie sat still, jaw clenched.

“She was. I thought she was—”

“Liar,” you whispered. “You wanted her gone. You wanted me to replace her.”

“You’re not a replacement,” Ellie snapped. “You’re... you're worse.”

The words left her mouth before she could take them back.

And just like that, the switch flipped.

You were done.

You disappeared the next morning. Vanished into the woods.

Ellie searched for days. Weeks. She cried. Screamed. Left notes carved into tree bark.

But she never found you.

Because you didn’t want to be found.

Until the next season, when Ellie found something under her bed.

A recording.

Your voice. Calm. Unstable. Honest.

“If you’re hearing this, I’m gone. Not dead—just done. You didn’t break me. I just finally saw who I was when I wasn’t trying to hold you. You were always scared of losing me. But I think I was more scared of losing myself.”

Ellie sits on the porch every dusk now. Alone. The wind carries echoes of your voice. Not real. But not gone either. She doesn’t know where you are. But part of her knows she’ll never find you. And for once, it’s not because you’re lost.

It’s because you finally let go.

hii!! I was wondering if you could maybe do Ellie taking care of an overwhelmed and overstimulated reader? in an anxiety attack context!

Quiet Room - ellie williams x reader

Hi anon!! I hope you enjoy:)

Pairing: Ellie Williams x Reader

requests are open, send me your thoughts and ideas:)

Warnings: Sensory overload, panic, anxiety attack symptoms, soft physical touch, protective!Ellie

Summary: in which you needed comfort

Masterlist

“Too much.”

It started with the noise.

The clink of silverware, someone’s loud laugh, the fireplace crackling, babies crying in another room.

Then the lights felt too bright. The air too thick. Your shirt too tight.

You tried to hold it in, to smile when Maria offered you pie, to nod along when Jesse joked about patrols.

But Ellie noticed.

Of course she did.

She always does.

She touched your arm—gentle, grounding.

“Hey. Wanna get some air?”

You nodded, maybe too quickly.

She didn’t say another word. Just grabbed your coat, your hand, and walked you out the back door without anyone noticing.

The moment the cold air hit your face, you exhaled like you hadn’t breathed in hours.

But it wasn’t enough.

Your chest still felt tight. Your skin itched. Your heart wouldn’t slow down.

You pressed your hands to your temples.

“I can’t—I can’t shut it off,” you whispered. “It’s too loud in my head.”

Ellie didn’t try to reason with you.

She didn’t say "you’re okay,” or “calm down.”

Instead, she nodded slowly, took both your hands in hers, and said:

“Okay. Then we’ll make it quiet.”

She led you to the stables, where it smelled like hay and saddle leather, not perfume and stress. Where the only noise was a soft whinny and your own uneven breathing.

She pulled you into an empty stall, sat you down, and knelt in front of you.

“Hands on me,” she said gently.

You hesitated.

“C’mon. Just... hold onto my jacket.”

You gripped the soft fabric, trembling.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Breathe in for four. Like this.”

She exaggerated her inhale, slow and deep.

You mirrored her.

“Now hold it... three... two... and let it go.”

You exhaled.

“Again.”

She did this with you for five minutes.

Every time your eyes darted to the shadows, she squeezed your knee.

Every time your breath hitched, she whispered: “With me.”

She didn’t leave you in that storm.

She sat in it with you.

And eventually… the waves calmed.

You opened your eyes. The buzzing was gone. The weight on your chest was lighter.

Ellie smiled softly.

“Hey. There you are.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “For ruining the night.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t ruin anything. You just needed space. That’s not a crime.”

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to hers.

She stayed perfectly still—quiet, solid, safe.

“Next time,” she whispered, “we skip the party and hide in the barn from the start.”

You laughed, weakly. But real.