Oh My Gad Who Dat Pretty In Ur Pfp

stateside- abby anderson x reader

this story is based off the song state side by pinkpantheress, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

requests are open, send me your ideas:)

Warnings: Jealousy, emotional repression, post-situationship confusion, cursing, mentions of hookup culture, kissing, emotional vulnerability

Summary: After months apart, Abby finally comes home—but the distance hasn’t only been physical. As old feelings resurface and tension brews, you’re both forced to confront what was left unsaid before she left.

Setting: Modern College AU

Masterlist

You weren’t her girlfriend. Not officially. You weren’t even sure what you were.

Somewhere between a secret, a comfort, and a goddamn heartbeat.

Late-night car rides. Unspoken rules. Her breath at your neck when the world went quiet—but no hand-holding in public, no posting you on stories, no “this is my girl.”

You told yourself you were okay with it.

You weren’t.

So when Abby left for her out-of-state internship with no real goodbye—just a message that read:

“Headed out. Don’t wait up.”

—it cracked something open in you. And three months later, you still hadn’t sealed it shut.

It wasn’t just the photos (though they burned.)

The ones where she stood beside that medical student—Isla. Bright smile. Tank top. Hand on Abby’s shoulder like it belonged there.

It was the silence.

No texts. No late-night calls. No “I miss you.”

And yet every time you closed your eyes, you could feel her:

The weight of her hand on your thigh in the car.

The way she pulled you close but never close enough.

You tried to move on.

Hooked up once with someone too sweet and too soft.

But it wasn’t her. And the silence only got louder.

You found out she was back from some guy at a party.

“Didn’t you and Abby Anderson used to mess around?” he asked lazily, red cup in hand.

You froze. “What?”

“She’s back in town. Thought I saw her near the gym.”

The air shifted around you. Your ears rang. You left the party early.

Buzzing with resentment and longing, palms sweaty from the weight of things unsaid.

You didn’t text her.

But you stared at her contact all night, whispering to yourself, don’t be that girl. And then you were.

The next day, she was just there—in the café near campus, hoodie loose over her frame, head bent over her laptop.

You froze when you saw her. She looked up. Blinked. Took an AirPod out.

“Hey,” she said, like no time had passed. Like you weren’t breaking.

You sat across from her before you could change your mind. “You’re back.”

“Tuesday.”

You looked at your hands. “No text?”

She winced. “Didn’t think you’d want one.”

“You left without saying goodbye.”

“I didn’t think I deserved one,” she said, softer.

That shut you up. Because deep down… maybe she was right.

You left together. Neither of you said it out loud—but somehow, you ended up in her car. The way you always used to.

Same quiet roads. Same faint music.

Same ache in your chest.

You turned to her. “You seeing someone?”

She hesitated. “No. You?”

You shook your head. “Tried. Didn’t work.”

The air between you pulsed.

“Why didn’t you call?” you asked.

She tightened her grip on the wheel. “Because I knew if I did… I wouldn’t stop.”

Silence.

You stared ahead. “I would’ve answered.”

She pulled over.

“I missed you,” she admitted. “More than I should’ve.”

You didn’t know if it was closure or a beginning. But you kissed her anyway.

You slept in her bed that night.

She didn’t touch you—not at first. Just handed you an old hoodie, let you curl under her blanket, and sat down next to you like she was scared to break something fragile.

You wanted to ask her what this meant. If this was her way of coming back.

Instead, you whispered, “I missed your room.”

And she whispered back, “I missed your voice.”

That was enough—for now.

Over the next week, you kept pretending it was nothing.

Texts. “Wanna grab food?” “You still awake?” “Need a ride?”

But it wasn’t casual. Not really.

Not when she looked at you like that.

Not when her fingers brushed yours and lingered.

Not when she flinched every time someone else mentioned Isla.

You weren’t hers. She wasn’t yours.

But you were still something.

And that something was slowly burning the both of you alive.

The breaking point came on a Friday night.

You were at a mutual friend’s place, trying to play it cool. Abby walked in late—messy bun, grey t-shirt, muscle memory and heartbreak wrapped in denim.

And Isla was there too.

They didn’t touch. But she stood close. Laughed too loud. Looked too often.

Your heart fell into your stomach.

Abby caught your eye across the room. You held her gaze for one full second before walking out.

You didn’t even make it halfway down the street before she caught up.

“Wait,” she called.

You spun on her. “What are we doing, Abby?”

She blinked.

“I can’t keep pretending we don’t matter,” you said, voice cracking. “I can’t keep acting like this is casual when it never was.”

Silence.

Her jaw clenched. “You think I don’t want you?”

“I think you’re too scared to admit you do.”

That hit something deep.

She stepped forward, crowding into your space. “You’re wrong.”

“Then say it.”

She grabbed your face in both hands. “I want you.”

Your breath caught.

“God help me, I want you,” she said, forehead pressed to yours. “I left because I thought I’d ruin it. Because I’m not soft, and I don’t know how to be good at this—but I never stopped thinking about you.”

You kissed her like you were drowning.

And this time, she kissed you back like she meant it.

They don’t fix it all at once.

But they start over—this time with honesty. This time with intention.

No more hiding. No more maybe.

Just two people learning how to love each other out loud—even if it scares them.

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

Everybody here wants you - (ellie williams x reader)

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

This story is based off the song Everybody here wants you by Jeff Buckley, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

Requests are always open feel free to leave one or just send me a song and I'll take it from there:) or just send me your thoughts....

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

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

wc: 1.9k

29 pearls in your kiss

A singing smile

Coffee smell and lilac skin

Your flame in me

I'm only here for this moment

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

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

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

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

god really has his favorites huh?

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

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

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

You wanted to vomit.

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

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

Ellie.

Your Ellie.

I know everybody here wants you

I know everybody here thinks he needs you

I'll be waiting right here just to show you

How our love will blow it all away

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

Everybody here wanted Ellie. Everybody in this room did.

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

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

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

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

You saw Dina as a threat.

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

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

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

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

Hmm, such a thing of wonder in this crowd

I'm a stranger in this town

You're free with me

And our eyes locked in downcast love

I sit here proud

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi Dina” you said softly.

“How do you know my name?”

fuck how did you know her name?

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

“I’m a friend of Ellie’s” you smiled.

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

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

Fuck fuck fuck no no no

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

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

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

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

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

What does Ellie see in her?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No.

No you weren’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “I’m sorry” you breathed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I know the tears we cried

Have dried on yesterday

The sea of fools has parted for us

There's nothing in our way, my love

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

“Who are you?” Ellie asked.

“I was a friend of Dina’s” you lied.

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

 “No” you muttered

“I thought she was happy”

"me too"

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

“Yeah” you smiled

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

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

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

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

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

And I'll rise like an ember in your name

I know I, I know

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

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

You knew that deep down she loved you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I know everybody here, well, thinks he needs you

Thinks he needs you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yours truly,

Zia <3

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 we please have yandere Ellie

To Be Near You - ellie williams x reader

hi anon! i wasnt sure if you wanted headcannons or a fic, but lmk if i should do seomething else instead. I hope you enjoy:)

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

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

HUGE WARNING: Yandere behavior, obsessive thoughts, emotional manipulation, stalking, slow burn, psychological themes, implied torture, confinement, disturbing intimacy, kidnapping

Summary: 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.

masterlist

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

Ellie didn’t remember when it started—when you became the only person she thought about. Maybe it was that time you sat two rows ahead of her in biology, your head tilted slightly, scribbling so fast in your notebook she thought smoke might rise from the page. Or maybe it was when you laughed at something stupid the professor said, that quiet little snort that made her chest feel too tight.

It didn’t matter. All Ellie knew was that you were hers—even if you didn’t know it yet.

She wasn’t stupid. She didn’t approach you like some lovesick idiot. No, she watched. Observed. She knew your routines down to the minute. Mondays, you always bought the cheap coffee from the cart near the arts building. Wednesdays, you skipped your last class and sat alone under the fig tree near the library with a book in your lap, legs crossed, headphones in. You always listened to that sad indie shit, the kind that made Ellie feel like your soul was a snow globe someone had shaken too hard.

She memorized the curve of your neck when you tied your hair up. The way you rubbed your thumb against your phone case when you were nervous. The way you always said “thank you” to the cleaning staff. You were good. Pure. You didn’t belong in a world like this—surrounded by people who wouldn’t protect you the way Ellie would.

So she started small. A bump in the hallway. An apologetic smile. The “accidental” sighting at your favorite coffee spot. She watched the way your eyes lit up when someone remembered your name. She made sure to say it just loud enough that you’d hear it from behind you in line—like it had only just occurred to her. “Oh, hey, y/n, right?”

You smiled. And Ellie’s obsession twisted tighter.

She told herself she’d wait. That she’d earn your trust. That you’d come to her in time, love her the way she already loved you—desperately, painfully. But every time she saw you talking to someone else, laughing too loud with some guy in class, her hands clenched in her jacket pockets until her nails drew blood.

She followed you home twice. Not close—never too close. She just needed to see. Needed to know you were safe. That no one had touched you. That you were still hers, even if you didn’t realize it yet.

And then came the night she saw you crying on your porch, phone to your ear, voice shaking as you muttered, “It’s just been a lot lately.”

That night, Ellie sat awake in bed until 4 a.m., writing a letter she never sent. She had to be careful. She didn’t want to scare you. Not yet.

But you needed her. You’d always needed her.

And Ellie would wait. Quiet. Patient. Because love like this—raw and unshakable—wasn't something people found in this world anymore.

She just had to make you see it.

The first time Ellie spoke to you, really spoke to you, was when she “accidentally” sat next to you in the library.

You were curled up near the window, highlighters scattered across your table like candy. Your brows were furrowed, a half-finished smoothie sweating beside your laptop. You looked stressed, overwhelmed, and so goddamn beautiful in your chaos that Ellie could hardly breathe.

She slid into the seat beside you like it wasn’t calculated. Like she hadn’t waited for this exact time and day, tracked when you usually studied alone here. Her notebook hit the table with a soft thud, and you looked up, a little surprised.

“Oh… hey,” you said with a polite smile.

Ellie felt the burn of her heart thudding in her throat. “Hey. Sorry, didn’t realize this spot was taken.”

“It’s okay,” you offered quickly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You can sit. I don’t mind.”

Of course you don’t, she thought. You’re so kind. You’d let the devil sit here if he smiled the right way.

She didn’t say anything for a while. Just opened her notebook, pretending to study, even though her eyes flicked to you every other second. She watched the way your pen tapped against your notes. Watched the crease between your brows deepen.

“You look like your brain’s about to melt,” Ellie joked softly.

You laughed — you laughed — and Ellie felt her ribs close in around her lungs.

“Tell me about it,” you sighed. “I have a paper due and like, zero motivation.”

And just like that, the door cracked open. Ellie stepped inside your world with a careful smile.

“I could help, if you want. I’m decent at writing. Got a lot of practice, thanks to Dr. Collins’ essay-from-hell last semester.”

Your eyes lit up in a way that made her throat ache. “Wait — you had Collins? You survived?”

“Barely,” Ellie chuckled. “But yeah. I made it out alive.”

You scooted over just a bit, angling your laptop toward her. “I will accept any and all help. Seriously.”

And that was it. Ellie was in.

She started popping up more — casual run-ins that were anything but accidental. She brought you coffee on the days she knew you had early classes. She left sticky notes on your desk in the library with dumb little jokes. You laughed every time. It was perfect.

But then you started talking about someone. A guy.

A classmate. A friend, you said.

Ellie’s hand clenched around her pen so tight it snapped.

You didn’t notice. You just kept talking, smiling softly, voice floating with affection.

That night, Ellie followed him home.

Just watched from a distance, hoodie up, breath steady despite the adrenaline in her veins. She just needed to know where he lived. Who he was. Whether he was a threat.

And when she saw him ignore your texts, leave you on read for hours, Ellie made her decision.

He wasn’t good enough for you.

She would be patient. But not forever.

You were already hers. She was just taking her time showing you that.

Ellie didn’t sleep for days after she saw your face fall when you mentioned him again — that guy. The one who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.

She watched as you waited on campus, phone in hand, eyes scanning the crowd. You were standing outside your lecture hall, hands fidgeting with the sleeves of your sweater. You’d dressed nice today — makeup done, hair a little neater than usual.

All for him.

And he didn’t show.

Not until twenty minutes later, slouched and half-interested, offering a sheepish smile and a shrug like that could make up for your disappointment.

You smiled anyway. You always did.

Ellie’s jaw locked. Her breath stayed even. Her eyes didn’t blink.

He’d made you wait. He’d made you feel small.

She followed him home again, but this time she didn’t stay outside.

She waited until the lights in his apartment went dark. Waited until he was alone, headphones in, playing some stupid game on his console. He never even heard her come in.

The first hit wasn’t lethal. A metal pipe to the side of the knee — deliberate, punishing, shattering bone and pride in a single sickening crunch. The scream was immediate, high-pitched and raw.

She shoved him down hard, duct tape already in hand.

“I’m only going to say this once,” she muttered, eyes dark and unshaking. “You don’t talk to her again. You don’t look at her again.”

He gurgled something behind the tape, tears already running down his face.

Ellie leaned in, face inches from his. “You don’t even think about her. Got it?”

She didn’t wait for a reply. She didn’t need one.

Hours passed. Time didn’t matter. The sounds he made were pathetic, and she took her time — slow, cold, efficient. He needed to understand.

When she was done, she left him tied and bloody, tossed across the room like garbage. Alive. Barely. But enough to live in fear.

A message.

A warning.

No police report would follow — she knew his type. Weak. Cowardly. A memory she'd already erased from your life.

The next day, you looked a little confused, almost concerned. You mentioned you hadn’t heard from him.

“He probably ghosted me,” you said, trying to laugh it off. “Wouldn’t be the first time a guy flaked.”

Ellie put a hand gently on your shoulder.

“I don’t think you need someone like that anyway.”

You looked at her, softer than she expected. “Yeah,” you said quietly. “Maybe you’re right.”

You didn’t pull away when she touched your arm. You leaned into her comfort. Into her warmth.

It was working.

Ellie smiled all the way home, blood still under her nails.

You didn’t think much of it when Ellie offered to drive you home that night. You were both on campus, it was dark, cold. And you trusted her to an extent.

It was late, you were tired, and she was already waiting by your car, leaning against it like it was hers. You hesitated — maybe because something in her eyes looked different. But she smiled, soft and familiar, and you told yourself you were being paranoid.

You shouldn’t have gotten in.

The drive started off normal enough. Familiar roads. Ellie humming lowly to a song you used to love. But then she made a turn you didn’t recognize. And then another. You frowned, asked her where she was going. She didn’t answer at first — just tapped the steering wheel and said, “Shortcut.”

You stopped memorizing the turns after a while. There were too many. Too quick. Trees instead of buildings. Darkness instead of streetlights. Your phone? Gone. She'd taken it before you even noticed.

“Ellie, turn around.”

She didn’t. Her knuckles were white on the wheel, jaw tight, eyes forward.

“You’ll be safe now,” she muttered, almost to herself. “Finally.”

Your pulse pounded. You tried the door once — it was locked. The child-lock kind. Her kind.

You never expected it from her. Sweet, quiet Ellie. The one who helped you study, who brought you soup when you were sick. But this Ellie was different — sharper, obsessive, like she'd been waiting to snap.

Eventually, the road ended, and the cabin appeared — old, isolated, deep in the woods where no one could hear you scream. You begged. You reasoned. You cried. But Ellie only looked at you like she’d finally gotten everything she ever wanted.

“You don’t need anyone else,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead as she led you inside. “You have me now.”

The days began to bleed together.

You didn’t know how long you had been in Ellie’s cabin—if you could even call it that. Hidden somewhere deep in the mountains, no cell service, no internet, no roads visible from the windows. Just trees. Endless, quiet trees.

At first, you screamed. You cried. You didn’t eat.

Ellie didn’t punish you for it. She just watched. Quiet. Patient. Like a wolf waiting for a limb to go still so she could safely bite off the infection.

“You’ll feel better if you eat,” she’d whisper. Her voice low, cracked like old vinyl. “I made your favorite. I remember you said it once… back in class. Thought I wasn’t listening, huh?”

She remembered everything.

The chipped nail polish you used to wear. The way your eyes fluttered when you were nervous. The offhanded comments you made about never feeling seen.

“I see you,” she told you one night. And something in her voice made your stomach flip—not in fear. Something… deeper.

You hated that part.

You hated that after four days, your hands stopped shaking every time she opened the door. That on day five, when you cried and she wiped your tears with her thumbs, you didn’t pull away.

“It's okay,” Ellie whispered. “He’s gone. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

You wanted to scream that he didn’t hurt you. That Ellie was the only one who ever had. But your voice cracked. And you didn’t want to see that look in her eyes again—the one that was both love and danger, stitched into the same grin.

She started brushing your hair.

“I used to imagine this,” she murmured. “You, right here. Safe. Close to me.”

Her hands were gentle. Too gentle. As if afraid you'd break.

“You’re learning to trust me now, aren’t you?”

You didn’t answer. But your head leaned ever so slightly into her touch.

That night, she let you out of the room for the first time. Not outside—never outside—but into her world. Books. Sketches. Maps marked with little red Xs.

“This is everything I built… for you.”

There was a soft bed in the corner. New sheets. Lavender scented.

“You can sleep here tonight,” she said, fingers brushing your lower back. “Closer to me.”

And you did.

It wasn't trust. Not really. Maybe exhaustion. Maybe your mind, frayed from isolation. But when Ellie wrapped her arms around you under the thick quilt, and whispered “you’re mine” against your hair, something inside you cracked.

Not a break.

A splinter.

You stopped counting the days.

There was no point. No clocks, no sunlight. Just the quiet hum of Ellie’s voice when she read to you at night. The sound of her boots on the wooden floor. The soft clink of silverware she set down with each careful meal.

There was something peaceful about it—if you didn’t think too hard.

You had screamed. Begged. Raged. And still, she had stayed. Never yelling. Never raising her hand. Just watching. Waiting.

Now, you didn’t scream.

You didn’t fight when she helped you bathe. When she dried your hair with a towel that smelled like pine and her.

You didn’t flinch when she kissed your cheek and whispered, “Good girl.”

She’d reward you when you were obedient. More time out of the room. A book. A blanket from home. A drawing of you she spent hours perfecting—eyes too soft, mouth too sad.

"You’re safer now,” she murmured one night, tracing your collarbone with her fingertips. “You don’t have to run anymore.”

You didn’t answer. Because she was right. There was nowhere to run. Not anymore.

The turning point wasn’t loud. It didn’t come with violence. It came with a whisper. A flicker. A moment where you looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize the fear in your eyes anymore.

You saw her.

Ellie.

All-consuming. Ever-present. Everything.

So when she curled into bed beside you that night, wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face into the crook of your neck, you let her.

You didn’t close your eyes right away. You stared at the wooden beams above. You breathed with her. Matched her rhythm.

"I knew you’d come around,” she said softly. “I just had to be patient. You were always mine. You just didn’t know it yet.”

You didn’t cry. You didn’t flinch.

You just let her hold you, let her hand find yours, let her whisper love into your skin like it was salvation, not damnation.

In the morning, she painted your nails. Brushed your hair with a comb she’d carved your name into. Called you her wife.

You didn’t correct her. What was the point?

She kissed your temple.

“You’re perfect now,” Ellie said. “Exactly how I dreamed you’d be.”

And in her green eyes—those bright, haunting eyes—you saw it:

Obsession disguised as love. Love tainted with control.

And you?

You were no longer a prisoner. You were a possession.

And slowly—terrifyingly—you were starting to want to be.

The cabin was warm. Not just in temperature, but in the way Ellie moved through it like it was a home you built together.

Your toothbrush sat next to hers now. She’d written your name on a tag and tied it with twine.

There was a mug on the counter—chipped and faded—that said “World’s Best Wife.” You weren’t sure where she found it. You didn’t ask.

You never asked anymore. Ellie called it your honeymoon phase.

She woke you gently every morning with kisses to your shoulder. She cooked, always your favorite dishes—eggs, tomatoes, sourdough bread, strawberries. She pulled your chair out at the table and watched you eat like it was her reward for every horrible thing she'd done to bring you here.

You weren’t chained anymore. But the door was always locked.

You didn’t try it anymore, not since the last time—when she’d found you standing in the kitchen, your hand hovering over the doorknob, and her voice had gone cold in that way that turned your bones to ice.

“You’re not thinking of leaving me,” she’d said, stepping closer. “Not after everything I’ve done for you. Right, baby?”

You had nodded. Fast. Too fast. She forgave you. But not without consequence.

That night, she didn’t let you out of bed—not even for water. She held you tight, almost bruising, whispered how much it scared her to think of you gone. How she’d die without you. How she’d kill for you.

You believed her. You still did.

Now, she was too happy.

She sang while she cooked. Danced with you in the living room, hands firm on your waist, eyes never blinking. She kissed your forehead too long. Said things like “I love you more every second,” and “You don’t need anyone else. Just me.”

You nodded every time.

And yet… something in her had started to snap again.

It was little things at first. The silence when you mentioned your old life. The way her jaw clenched when you looked too long at the photo of your family she’d allowed you to keep.

Then came the photos. The ones she took of you while you were asleep. Hundreds of them.

Piled in boxes. Taped to the walls of a room you weren’t allowed to enter until she “surprised” you one night.

“I just love you so much,” she breathed, showing you the shrine. “I had to make something that felt like you were everywhere.”

You had smiled. You didn’t know what else to do.

But the worst came next.

She came back from town covered in blood.

You had asked—trembling, afraid, already knowing.

And Ellie… she didn’t lie.

“He kept asking about you,” she said. “Your ex. The one who used to text. I couldn’t have that, baby. I won’t let them take you from me.”

She cupped your cheek with her bloodied hand, eyes soft, voice like silk.

“I did it for us.”

You didn’t scream. You didn’t cry.

Because in your heart, that last thread of resistance had snapped.

You realized something then:

You weren’t staying because you were trapped.

You were staying because this was the only place her love made sense anymore.

Twisted. Devoted. Terrifying.

But yours.

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

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

I hardly seen any love for Dina can you maybe do one her shy x popular trope

One chance - (popular!dina x shy!reader)

hi anon, firstly real! we need more Dina fics! I'm sorry if this sucks I struggle with writing fluff lmao, but i hope you enjoy :)

Pairing: dina x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts:)

warnings: none

Summary: In which the popular girl asked you out

authors note: on a serious note we need more dina fics, she's sooooo fine but so underrated and it's so sad

masterlist

"Earth to Dina"

"huh?"

"Dina are you ok?" Ellie asked concerned at her friends spaced out expression.

"I'm fine"

no she wasn't.

Dina was not fine.

She was fucking fuming. Why? Because you were giving someone else attention.

Dina had always wanted to be a cheerleader. Ever since she was a little girl, she watched countless videos on YouTube for cheer routines, and she memorized them all.

As soon as she became a freshman in high-school she immediately auditioned, and as if god was on her side she became the caption and she stayed the caption up until her senior year.

She fucking loved to cheer.

The makeup, the routines, the crowd screaming for them.

For her.

God she loved it all the attention. She loved all the people around her, people praising her, and telling her that she did a good job.

Dina was the classic popular girl and as cliché as it was, this was who she was and she loved every fucking second of it.

It was like no other day.

She stood at the entrance of the field, watching the football teams run out.

She observed the other cheer teams standing next to hers, they were pretty, but surely they weren't as talented.

The whistle blew and a grin spread on to Dina's face, as she jogged out the massive doors, her squad running behind her.

The crowd cheered as the girls came out, and Dina proudly raised her pompoms, shaking them slightly.

Her gaze fell onto the crowd, as she tried spotting people wearing the schools colors but her eyes fell on you.

woah.

She's never seen you before.

Holy fucking shit.

For the rest of the night, Dina's eyes lingered on you.

Every time they had to perform, she always kept and eye on you, hoping you'd make eye contact.

You never looked her way.

You wanted to but you were scared.

You'd only join the school a month ago and you remembered on your first day of school, you saw her.

The pretty girl with the dark hair.

That's what you called her until you were told her name was Dina.

Dina. Dina. Dina. Dina Dina.

She was all you could think about.

Everywhere you went there was a reminder of Dina.

You saw a bow? Dina wears bows.

You saw someone wearing blue? Dina always wears blue converse.

You wanted to talk to her so fucking bad, but you couldn't. Every time you got close to her it felt like you were going to piss yourself.

You made her a paper flower one day, hoping you'd be able to give it to her. You'd hype up yourself in the mirror but as soon as you saw her, the confidence you once felt fell away.

"C'mon lets go" your friend Abby begged. She'd been asking you to the football game all week but you weren't in the mood for the loud crowds and all the screaming.

"let me stay home dude" you replied

"Dina will be there"

That's all you needed to hear. You raced to get ready, and you put on a orange jumper hoping the bright color might catch Dina's attention.

You sat on the field with hundreds of other people, you anxiously waited for her, you realized that her seeing you would be unlikely due to the amount of people that filled the seats.

All you remember was the crowd cheering and Dina jogging out, wearing her blue converse. There was a grin on her face as her team followed her and she looked fucking perfect.

As hard as you tried not to look at her you couldn't help it.

She stood in front so obviously you were gonna look at her.

She performed with so much confidence, with so much grace. You could truly look at her forever.

When the game came to an end her squad asked if she wanted to go out with them, but Dina kindly declined because she had other plans.

She had to talk to this pretty girl that distracted her throughout the whole game.

Dina walked through the crowd, trying to avoid all the people who were trying to talk to her.

She was growing frustrated. Where the fuck were you?

Just as she was about to lose hope, she spotted your orange jumper. You stood on the side of the road talking on your phone. Dina slowly walked towards you and she didn't mean to listen to your conversation but she did.

"Abby i swear to god if you don't come pick me up in 5 minutes I'm going to kill you"

Dina softly giggled at how overdramatic you were. You put your phone into your pocket on you sighed.

Dina could walk away right now, she could turn away and you would never have to know about this.

Fuck it. Dina wasn't a pussy.

She tapped you on shoulder, and you turned around. Your eyes met with the girl you've been silently in love with for the last month.

Fuck.

"Hi" Dina started, giving you her charming smile.

Your mouth went dry and you felt so fucking nervous. She could probably see how you were shaking.

"Hi" you replied meeting her gaze shyly.

"Well I'm Dina and i just wanted to say you're really pretty and i was wondering if i could have your number?"

You wanted to pinch yourself. Is this even real? Was this a prank?

"yeah" was all you said without looking at her. You watched Dina reach into her bag to pull out her phone, and she silently watched as you put in your number.

"You don't talk much do you?" She laughed awkwardly as she took her phone from your hand.

"Yeah" was all you said.

Dina didn't text you. Its been 2 weeks.

Its not that she didn't want to, but she was terrified.

You barely spoke to her that night, who says you'll even text her back?

You on the other hand saw the situation differently. You thought she was taking you for a fool. Someone like Dina would never just ask for your number.

As the weeks went by you and Dina make eye contact, she would give you a small smile and you would just walk away with a nod. You'd make no effort to talk to her because she made you so fucking nervous.

Dina hated this. She hated that she wanted someone that can barley look at her. But here she was getting mad at you for talking to someone else.

Some blonde bitch sat with you and you acted so differently. You laughed, you fucking smiled and showed emotion, but when Dina was around you barely uttered a word to her.

You drove her insane.

"Dude why are you fucking lying?"

"what?" Dina asked.

She actually forgot Ellie was sitting here.

"You keep looking at her and Abby"

so that's what her name was.

"What's your deal with them?" Ellie persisted.

She might as well admit it.

"She isn't the problem, Abby is"

Ellies gaze fell to you and Abby for a while before it all clicked.

"Dude are you jealous? do you have a fucking crush on her or something?"

"Yeah" Dina admitted "but I don't know anything about her, i tried talking to her, but she doesn't say much"

Dina quickly glazed to you before she groaned in frustration

"she doesn't" Ellie confirmed.

"She only talks to Abby, she's quite shy in my opinion"

shy is an understatement.

Dina was losing her mind. Every time she sees you and Abby together she feels sick. But at the same time she's too pussy to talk to you or to even text you.

Dina could perform in front of thousands of people without batting an eye but she could barley say hi to you.

You were fucking breaking her.

Dina went to an empty classroom to let off some steam and to her surprise you sat there.

"Hi" Dina said in amazement.

"Hi" you responded looking everywhere in the room but her.

'just fucking look at me' Dina thought to herself.

"What are you doing here?" She asked you.

"Abby isn't here today, i didn't feel like sitting alone"

Dina's fist clenched tightly at the mention of Abby.

"Can i ask you something?" Dina randomly asked, after staring at you for a while.

"yeah"

"why don't you want me?"

"What?"

Dina dropped her backpack and she made her way towards you: "like you- fuck- why don't you look at me? I always look at you"

You wanted to run out the room, this was all happening too fast. "Dina-"

"no listen, i know nothing about you but you seem like a really sweet girl, please just one chance" she begged.

You would give her a million chances.

"Yeah..." you started, you looked around the room one last time before you finally made eye contact with Dina.

"so are you gonna take me on a date?" You smiled at her shyly.

Dina chucked and she responded with one word: "yeah"

I’m not sure if you do horror but can you do a horror one like scream themed or any horror movie

Scream for me - part 1 (ellie williams x reader)

This will be a three part series, part two will be released soon!

Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

Requests are always open feel free to leave one!

Warnings: murder, stalking, mentions of violence, body mutilation

Summary: Not killing the pretty girl was the best mistake she ever made

(if you want me to add you to a tag list just leave a comment and I'll add you)

Fuck

Why was she standing still? Why wasn’t she moving? Why was she hesitating?

Everyone in Jackson was terrified. The brutal murders happening around town might be the reason for that.

The first victim a beautiful blonde girl; Jamie Smith was found on a cold Saturday morning. Head decapitated, with over 20 stab wounds. No one knew why someone would kill such an innocent girl. After the first murder a second victim appeared: Jacob Hill. His genitalia mutilated, his tongue missing and once again over 20 stab wounds. And soon another victim then another and another. And soon the death count went from 2 to over 15 people. No one was safe. Whoever this murderer was, was thirsty for blood. And she’d kill anyone to quenched that thirst.

But here she stood over you sleeping body.

Why wasn’t she attacking you? In all honesty she doesn’t know. She doesn’t fucking know who you were. But that’s the thing she never knew her victims. It makes killing easier.

 But why couldn’t she hurt you?

She ruthless, borderline satanic. But yet as she looked at you while you slept she felt her dark thoughts go silent.  You were pretty. The face of an angel. The face of pure innocence. She couldn’t harm such a pretty thing like you.

So the famous Ghostface (that’s what everyone calls this murderer) went home. And she questioned herself.

Why didn’t she fucking kill you?

She removed her mask, the autumn brown hair falling out of the loose bun she placed it in.

“stupid fucking hair” Ellie muttered out of frustration. Her hair was so fucking short she couldn’t even tie a proper ponytail. She quickly removed the gloves, and placed her favorite knife back in it’s case. She swiftly removed the all black outfit she wore, and she was left in red boxers and a black sports bra. Ellie laid down on her bed, and she let out a sigh.

She didn’t kill anyone tonight. That was weird. She always kills people when she goes out. Her not killing you ruined her current killing streak.

“Fuck” she muttered and closed her eyes trying to fall asleep. The more she tried the less the felt sleepy. Her thoughts consumed her. With her past victims, Joel, the police and you.

 Who were you?

Ellie had to know. Even if it fucking kills her.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Ellie waited. She waited for the alarm to sound.

Since the killings, Jackson has had a curfew. Everyone should be in the house before night fall, doors locked. Everyone was terrified. No one could figure out who Ghostface was. A question many asked because they hated living in fear. But Ellie liked it. She liked having people scared of her. She liked knowing the reason people were forced to stay inside was because of her. She got a sick kick out of it.

The alarm sounded and she waited for one hour, because the police patrol that one hour hoping to catch her. No one can. No one will.

At exactly 11:00pm Ellie went out. Not to kill. But to find out who that pretty girl was. She knew she couldn’t kill you. The way her body reacted at the sight of you made it impossible. But she needed to know who you were.

It didn’t take long for Ellie to find your house again. Your curtains closed and windows locked. 

“Fuck” she muttered under her breathe when she couldn’t get in “fuck you pretty girl” she cursed. Ellie ran to the other side of the house and she thanked the gods that there was a window open.

She squeezed through the small window, “shit” she cursed out loudly when she felt her foot land in cold water. She landed in the toilet cringing at how it made her socks feel. She quickly got out not caring if she made your floor wet and she went back to the bedroom.

When she entered she was hit with a strong vanilla smell she thought she could faint at how strong the smell is. “jesus fucking christ” she cursed. And she stood there, trying to get used to the smell.

And that’s when she saw once again you lay there sleeping. Blissfully unaware that Ghostface was standing above you for the second time. You looked peaceful, it looked like you didn’t have a worry in the world but your messy room said otherwise. Clothes everywhere, books scattered across the floor.

“She’s probably in college” Ellie thought when she saw all the texts books.

 pretty and smart. Her favorite.

Her eyes landed on a wall filled with polaroid’s. Her mouth fell agape when she saw you. Awake. You were even prettier than she imagined. She was mesmerized by you. Her thoughts were quickly disturbed when she saw a picture of you and a girl. Ellie frowned.

Who was she?  Why were you with her? Why do you look so happy? She was going to fucking kill-

‘Woah Ellie calm down’ she thought to herself. She didn’t even know your fucking name.

She quickly grabbed the polaroid of you smiling. You wore a blue and white sundress, you looked beautiful. She smiled down at the picture, stuffing it into her pocket.

She made a quick mental note of that girl she saw in the picture with you. Ellie was going to find her. She was going to know who the fuck that girl was.

 She stayed in your room. The entire night. She watched you sleep, she cleaned up a little and she left with the polaroid.

In the days to come Ellie has gone insane. Every time she went out to kill some, she took that polaroid with her. That fucking picture of the pretty girl who’s name she doesn’t know. Every time she stabbed someone, every time the blade pierced someone’s skin she imagined you whispering;

“do it again” “kill them”

She doesn’t even know what you sound like, but fuck the way she imagines it has her dripping. She hoped to hear your voice one day.

She kissed that picture every time she went out, she slept with it under her pillow. She had it in her pocket 24/7.

And in the passing nights, she went back to your house every time. She watched you sleep, she cleaned up a little, she got mad at that picture of you and that girl who she still hasn’t found. You’ve consumed her life and she doesn’t even fucking know your name.

Tonight was like no other for Ellie, she murdered an old man. She did her classic 20 stab wound method then she set him on fire. It was something new. Something entertaining. This will definitely get a kick out of the community she thought. She went home and showered trying to clean off all the blood so that she doesn’t get your room messy. She kissed the polaroid, put it into her pocket and she left.

She left to you. Once again she hopped through the bathroom window. And she ran straight to your room, as she cleaned she accidently knocked the lamp off your bedside table. And she heard a whimper from behind her.

‘Fuck” she breathed. She slowly turned around to see you sitting, knees to your chin, fear in your eyes. This was the first time Ellie is seeing you awake, and she wanted to do nothing more but to grab you and kiss you.

“Who are you?” the pretty girl whispered

What the fuck was Ellie going to do?

part 2

Authors note: sorry for just disappearing, I was in a really bad space mentally, but I’m back now! I hope you enjoyed, and trust me this story is going to get darker in the next part. Remember to always be kind! Requests are always open, feel free to leave one! And if you wanna be in the tag list just leave a comment !

Yours truly,

Zia <3

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:)

I NEED MORE PROFESSOR ELLIEE

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

☆ Ellie gets visibly irritated when you mention other professors. Even in passing. If you compliment how “funny” someone else’s lecture was, she tightens her jaw and changes the subject fast — she can’t stand the idea of you admiring anyone else.

☆ She checks your schedule obsessively. Ellie memorizes your timetable. Not just for logistics — she needs to know where you are, who you’re with. It gives her a sense of control over the chaos she feels when she’s around you.

☆ Ellie started sitting in on classes that aren't hers. Just to keep an eye on you. She pretends it’s departmental observation, but she’s watching to see how you interact with other faculty.

☆ If she sees another student get too close, she gets cold. The moment someone touches your shoulder or makes you laugh in a way that feels too casual, her demeanour ices over. You recognize the shift instantly.

☆ Ellie fantasizes about pulling you into her office mid-argument. Half because she wants to shut you up with a kiss, half because she wants to remind you that you’re hers — in private, in the dark, where no one else sees.

☆ She collects pieces of you. A forgotten scarf, a sticky note you left on a textbook, a doodle you made in your notebook. She keeps them all in her desk drawer, like a shrine.

☆ She dreams about being caught. Not in a ruinous way — in a way that feels freeing. She pictures slamming the door behind you, kissing you like she doesn’t care who knows, and the thrill makes her stomach flip.

☆ Ellie acts dismissive in public. She’ll barely make eye contact with you in the hallway, won’t even acknowledge your presence during staff meetings. But her eyes follow you like a storm cloud.

☆ She talks about you vaguely to her colleagues. She’ll say things like, “Some students are… incredibly driven. Borderline obsessive.” They don’t know it’s about you. But you’d recognize that tone anywhere.

☆ Her jealousy is worst when you're not speaking. If you argue or take space, she becomes consumed with the idea that you’re already moving on, already finding someone else to fill the void.

☆ She keeps a second phone. Just to talk to you. It’s not official university property. It's locked, private, and hidden under a loose floorboard in her apartment. She checks it more than her main phone.

☆ Ellie has you saved under a fake name. In her phone, you’re listed as “M.” Short for “Muse.” You thought it was ridiculous — until she whispered it in your ear one night, and it suddenly didn’t feel so silly.

☆ When she gets jealous, sex turns rougher. She’ll grab your hips hard enough to bruise, mutter things like “mine,” and leave marks on your neck she shouldn’t. The next morning, she’ll panic, gently trace them, and apologize with trembling fingers.

☆ Ellie spies on your Instagram using a burner account. She doesn’t follow you, of course. But she checks your stories obsessively, zooming in on every face you tag, every drink in your hand.

☆ She’s obsessed with your lipstick stains. On her coffee mug. On her collar. On her inner thighs. She hates herself for it, but sometimes she doesn’t wash it off — lets it linger like a secret message.

☆ Ellie’s biggest fear is you getting bored. That one day you’ll wake up and realize she’s too rigid, too cold, too closed off — and you'll leave her for someone who can love you publicly.

☆ She hates your ex. Doesn’t matter how long ago it was. If they text you or their name comes up, Ellie shuts down. She’ll kiss you with a quiet desperation that night, trying to erase every memory before her.

☆ When she's drunk, she lets it slip. One time, at a faculty party, she got tipsy and said something to a colleague that almost revealed how much she knows about your life. You had to drag her away before she said your name.

☆ Ellie keeps writing a resignation letter. Over and over. Never submits it. The thought of giving up her position — her career — for you is terrifying. But the thought of losing you feels worse.

☆ She hates hiding, but she loves it too. The adrenaline of stolen glances, the tension of brushing hands in a hallway, the risk — it drives her mad. Sometimes she touches herself to the memory of almost getting caught.

☆ She memorizes your perfume. You once wore something new and she spent all lecture distracted, breathing it in. She bought a bottle for herself the next day just to spray her pillow with it.

☆ Ellie keeps saying "this is the last time." After every heated night. After every reckless kiss behind her office door. She says it while your lips are still swollen. Neither of you ever believe it.

☆ She leaves coded messages in your feedback. “Brilliant insight.” “Could explore further.” “Unexpected depth.” It’s her way of saying: You’re brilliant. You consume me. I see every layer of you.

☆ When she’s jealous, she punishes you academically. Subtly. A harsher grade. A red mark through a paragraph she secretly loved. She always apologizes later, hands gripping your waist, voice full of guilt.

☆ Ellie bought you a necklace. Something simple, something that wouldn’t raise questions. She told you it was nothing. You wear it every day. She notices. Every time.

☆ She’s terrified you’ll leave first. That you’ll grow out of the danger. That you’ll crave stability. Someone your age. Someone who doesn’t flinch every time the dean walks by.

☆ Sometimes she whispers your name in her sleep. You’ve heard it. In her apartment, curled up beside her, while she dreams. You never tell her. But you smile.

☆ Ellie wants to take you away. She fantasizes about both of you disappearing to a city where no one knows her, where she can hold your hand in daylight and not look over her shoulder.

☆ She’s more in love than she knows how to handle. The intensity of it — the fear, the yearning, the possessiveness — it swallows her whole. Sometimes she thinks she might drown in it.

☆ She’s planning an endgame. Whether it’s after graduation or a new job or burning everything down — Ellie’s secretly working out how to make this real. Because despite all the fear, she wants you forever.