I NEED MORE PROFESSOR ELLIEE

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.”

I cant stop thinking about dark desperate ex gf ellie who broke up with you for cat a few years ago but now is knee deep in love and keeps trying to manipulate your relationship with your gf (jesse and dina try to stop her but... Young love what can we do)

Knee deep - ellie williams x reader

hi anon! I really like this idea... I lowkey wanna make a part 2 to this... i hope you enjoy:)

Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

requests are open, send me your thoughts:)

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, toxic behaviors, mention of infidelity (emotional), angst-heavy, complex feelings, swearing.

Summary: In which ellie wanted you back

Masterlist

Ellie Williams wasn’t supposed to come back. Not after what she did.

You’d built a life—steady, slow, whole—without her. Two years since she left you for Cat. Two years of grief, resentment, quiet rebuilding. Two years of convincing yourself that her absence was your freedom.

Now she stood outside the Tipsy Bison, a cigarette twitching between her fingers, hood up, green eyes tracking you like a mark.

“Hey,” she said when you stepped outside, your name low and husky on her tongue like a secret. “Been a while.”

Your stomach twisted. You hadn’t seen that face in two years—only through half-memories and the hollow ache of dreams you refused to admit you had. She still looked the same. Tired. Dangerous. Beautiful in a way that only hurt now.

You didn’t answer.

Ellie took a drag and blew out a slow breath. “You gonna ignore me forever?”

You wanted to. God, you wanted to.

But something about the way she said it—like she already knew you wouldn’t—cracked the surface.

“What do you want, Ellie?”

She shrugged like she didn’t already have a thousand motives stitched beneath her skin. “I just wanted to see you. Thought we could talk.”

You gave her a hard look. “After two years?”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “After two years.”

Jesse didn’t believe it. Dina was pissed. Even Maria—who didn’t usually let things shake her—grew cold the moment Ellie’s name passed through your lips.

“She’s back?” Maria asked, arms crossed as she leaned against the kitchen counter, lips tight. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” you answered, which wasn’t a lie. Not really.

“She’s dangerous,” Dina added, always the realist. “Not in the ‘gonna hurt you physically’ way. In the ‘gonna pull your brain apart thread by thread’ way.”

You told yourself they were being dramatic. That you were stronger now. That Ellie couldn’t touch you anymore.

But then she started showing up.

Once at the diner where you worked—ordering coffee she never drank. Once near your cabin, claiming she “just happened to be walking by.” And once, late at night, waiting on your porch with a bottle of whiskey and a sad, slanted smile.

You didn’t let her in. Not that night.

The day she finally got to you was rainy. Thunder hung in the distance, and Cat was away on patrol. You’d been in the garden, hands dirty, hair damp, when Ellie showed up at the gate like a ghost resurrected.

“You still wear that necklace I gave you,” she said, voice soft and surprised.

You looked down. A slip of silver tucked beneath your shirt. You’d forgotten it was there. It pissed you off that she noticed. Pissed you off more that you hadn’t taken it off.

You wanted to tell her to leave, but she just kept going.

“I fucked up,” she whispered. “I thought Cat was… I don’t know. Simpler. Safer. But it was never like it was with you.”

You rolled your eyes, wiping mud on your pants. “You’re two years too late.”

“Are you happy?” she asked suddenly referring to the girl you had recently started dating.

Her name was Daisy. She was perfect, she gave you everything Ellie didn't. But you didn't love her like you loved Ellie.

No one could compare to Ellie.

The question landed like a gut punch. You weren’t expecting it. She leaned in then, crowding your space, eyes glassy and searching.

“Does she make you feel the way I did?”

You stared at her. “She doesn’t make me feel like shit. That’s the difference.”

Ellie flinched, and for a moment, you felt victorious.

But then she laughed—low, bitter. “You say that, but you’re not pushing me away.”

You did, then. Shoved her back with dirt-caked fingers and slammed the gate shut.

The problem was—Ellie didn’t stop.

She started leaving things. A drawing of you from memory, folded neatly in your mailbox. A song on a tape labeled "for the nights you still think of me." A note under your door that said, “She doesn’t know you like I do. She never will.”

You told yourself you hated it. You told yourself it was manipulation. You weren’t wrong. But you also didn’t tell Daisy.

The tension grew like a weed.

Daisy sensed it. Of course she did. She wasn’t stupid.

“You’ve been weird lately,” she said one night, her voice clipped. “Distant.”

You looked down at your hands. “Just tired.”

“You’re not still hung up on her, are you?”

Silence.

“Jesus,” Daisy muttered. “You are.”

“It’s not like that,” you insisted, even though it was exactly like that. Ellie was a wound that never fully healed. Just scarred over enough to convince you it had.

Daisy stood up, disgusted. “She left you. She replaced you. And now she comes back and suddenly you’re forgetting everything we’ve built?”

You didn’t answer.

Because Ellie had taken up space in your mind again. And you were letting her.

The night it all boiled over, the power had gone out.

A storm swept through Jackson and left the town flickering in candlelight. You were alone in your cabin when a knock hit your door. Slow. Measured.

You knew it was her.

Ellie didn’t wait to be invited. She stepped in, soaked to the bone, hair plastered to her forehead, and eyes wild with something between hope and desperation.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” she whispered. “Every time I close my eyes, it’s you. It’s always been you.”

You backed away, heart hammering. “You left me.”

“I know,” she said, voice breaking. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to love you the right way.”

“And now you do?”

She walked closer. “Now I’d rather fuck it up trying than live without you.”

You hated how your knees weakened. Hated how she knew just what to say.

“This is wrong,” you said.

“But it feels right,” she countered, and then she kissed you.

It was lightning in the bloodstream. Familiar. Addictive. Toxic.

And you kissed her back. Only for a moment.

Then you shoved her away. “I can’t do this.”

Ellie’s expression shattered. “You still love me.”

You hesitated. Then: “That’s not the point.”

The next day, you told Daisy everything.

It ended in shouting. Slamming doors. Tears. She left. Said she needed time.

And you stood in the wreckage, heart hollow, stomach twisted with guilt and something uglier: relief.

Ellie showed up that night. Like she knew.

“I heard,” she said, leaning against your porch railing. “You told her.”

You didn’t reply.

Ellie smiled, and it wasn’t kind. It was something darker. Hungrier.

“Guess it’s just us now.”

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

Headcannons: simp!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

part 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

☆ “Can I be your next canvas?”

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

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

☆ She rubs your back absentmindedly while you blend concealer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

☆ She whispers how lucky she is the entire time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not an ask just some compliments bc your professor ellie headcanons are so good i love love love the way you write them

oh my word, thank you sm!! I'm glad you liked it:))) I was so nervous to post it, because I was unsure if people would like it!! This means so much to me<333

<3333

i literally read ur five everyday i love them sm and i was wondering if u could make a angsty with a happy ending ellie x reader inspired by bubblegum by clairo

Bubblegum - (ellie williams x reader)

hi anon! thank youuu sm!! i hope you enjoy this fic... i tried something new:)

This story is based off the song Bubblegum by Clairo! if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts

warnings: none

Summary: in which you fell in love

authors note: the good doctor season 7 has me in tears man, like bro why did they have to kill Asher????

masterlist

You never thought this day would come. You thought this would only be a fantasy.

If you told 15 year old you that you would be standing in front of Ellie Williams at the alter, she would've laughed.

Both of you wanted this day to be perfect, and it was. The flowers, your dress and her suit, the seating arrangements, everything was perfect.

She looked at you with such love, love that you have only seen in Disney movies.

The two of you held hands as it was time for your vows. Her hands felt soft, and she held you so gently.

Ellie had to go first. Her palms were slightly sweaty. She was nervous.

Very fucking nervous.

You gave her hand a light squeeze and you gave her a small smile. That was all she needed.

"Sorry I didn't kiss you but it's obvious I wanted to"

You smiled as you remembered the awkward memory.

It was a sleepover at Dina's house, the two of you were only 15. It was you, Dina, Jesse and Ellie.

Oh Ellie.

Ellie Williams.

When Ellie and Joel arrived in Jackson you were immediately drawn to her.

She was pretty.

Really pretty.

Very early on you developed feelings for her. You liked the way she drew pictures, you liked the way she cut her hair, you liked her sense of humor. You liked Ellie for her.

When Dina invited you to the sleepover, you almost burst with joy. This was your moment.

Ellie was anxiously packing her bag for the sleepover.

She needed to impress you. She packed all her best outfits. She really fucking liked you.

The four of you played 7 minutes in heaven and the bottle landed on you and Ellie. Dina squealed knowing the two of liked each other.

You were pissing yourself, and Ellie was wondering how she smelled.

She was going to make a move. She needed to let you know how she felt. The two of you walked into the closet, and Dina locked the door behind you.

"Hi" you muttered softly

"hey" Ellie said back.

The two of you sat in awkward silence.

C'mon Ellie make your move

"What's your favorite color?" She suddenly blurted.

A smile spread onto your face before you answered "pink".

The two of you spoke so many things in that few minutes you had together. You learned so much about her.

"You have 2 minutes!" Dina yelled from the other side of the door.

"This was fun" you smiled

"it was... we should talk more often"

She was so close to you. So fucking close. You could feel her breath on your face.

'C'mon move Ellie' she thought to herself.

But before Ellie could make her move, you leaned in to kiss her. Her lips were so so soft. You've been dreaming about this for months.

Ellie's eyes widened at the sudden feeling. She wanted to lean in. She wanted to kiss you back but she was in a state of shock.

Ellie pulled away, and she started at you with a blank expression.

"Times up!" Dina opened the door with a smile.

Ellie got up and she ran out the closet.

You felt embarrassed. Humiliated.

You thought you had a connection, but clearly you were wrong.

Fuck you hated yourself

Ellie would probably never look at you again.

You were so fucking embarrassing.

"Bubble gum down my throat and it's a curse

But my luck couldn't get any worse

'Cause I swallowed the bubble gum

Oh, and these seven years will be pretty dumb

Pink flowers grow from my skin

Pepto Bismol veins and I grin"

It felt like seven years had gone by.

Its been 4 years since the kiss, but it felt like its been longer. After the kiss situation with Ellie, she avoided you like the plague. She never spoke to you again and you hated yourself for that.

Not only did you lose the girl you felt so deeply for, you lost someone you considered a best friend.

Little did you know she was beating herself up too. She was mad at herself for walking away. She was mad at herself for not kissing you back.

She was too embarrassed to look at you.

Ellie never tried again with any other girl, her heart belonged to you. Even though she wasn't sure what she would do to win you back, she knew one day you'd be hers.

Every time you would walk into a room where Ellie was she stopped breathing. If was as if bubblegum was stuck in her throat.

She wanted to talk to you, but the words were stuck.

Every time you were close to her, she'd always imagine all the things she would say, how you'd react, all the possibilities of what could have been.

But she was too pussy to say something about it.

As if her luck couldn't get worse Joel died. Everyone in Jackson could see how it affected her.

Ellie was sad but she was soon filled with rage. She had to go after whoever killed Joel. When she decided to leave Jackson, she had to say bye to you.

Ellie walked to where your house was and she knocked on the door. You opened it and she remembered you were wearing a pink flower dress.

Why was she here?

"I'm leaving Jackson"

Your eyes widened and you stayed silent for a while.

"I'm coming with you"

You stayed by her side the whole time. You were there for her the whole time.

One night you woke up to voices talking downstairs. Cautiously you walked down the stairs and you saw Ellie sitting with Tommy.

"Hi Tommy" you smile.

He gave Ellie a serious look before he walked out, not even saying bye to you.

Ellie turned to you with a sad look, and you could feel the tension in the air.

"You look so nice in your shirt" you say hoping to ease the tension.

It didn't work.

She told you about Abby. She told you that Tommy found her. She told you that she was leaving you to find her. You stayed silent as she explained everything to you.

"Say something" she begged.

"This is sad"

"What is?"

"It's sad because it just hurts"

You stayed silent before speaking up again: "I understand you miss Joel, but killing her wont bring him back. You're choosing someone else over us."

"We're not even together" Ellie hissed.

"I never forced you to come with me"

"Fuck Ellie don't you see?" You yelled "I'd do anything for you, but would you do that for me, too?"

She stayed silent at your words.

"I left my life for you, i wanted to be with you. I loved you Ellie! Open your fucking eyes"

She never responded, she got up and she walked out the door.

"Run like you always fucking do!"

She left you. She was gone for 3 months. You were going to give up hope.

Until you heard the front door opened. You ran down the stairs and you saw her in all her glory.

She was bloody, dirty and she had a few fingers missing.

"You're still here" she said with relief she fell to her knees and you ran to her.

Tears fell from both your eyes before Ellie muttered "killing her wont bring him back"

You smiled as Ellie retold the story in her vows. The officiant cleared her throat "i now pronounce you... wife and wife! You may now kiss your wife"

Ellie immediately grabbed your face, and the two of you shared a passionate kiss.

The crowd erupted in cheers, and you felt her smile into the kiss.

This is what you've always dreamed of.

<3

When the Quiet Breaks - ellie williams x reader

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

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

HUGE WARNIGS: Graphic emotional distress, PTSD symptoms, hallucinations, disturbing imagery, grief, memory loss/confusion, trauma-related violence.

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

masterlist

This story contains dark and emotionally intense themes—please read with care.

The quiet of the farmhouse wrapped around you and Ellie like a warm blanket. Days passed slowly, wrapped in soft sunlight and the creak of old wooden floors. You’d wake up to the sound of the chickens outside or the wind humming through the trees. JJ’s toys were still in a chest near the fireplace—leftover memories from when the place belonged to someone else—but now, it was just the two of you.

Ellie had changed. The hard, vengeful edge she’d carried back from Seattle was softened—still there in her eyes sometimes, but she laughed more now. She played guitar on the porch. She rested her head on your lap while you read aloud. She touched you like she never thought she’d be allowed to again—tenderly, like you might disappear if she blinked.

“I’m glad I stayed,” she said once, lying next to you in bed. “You’re the only reason I still know how to breathe.”

You smiled and kissed her jaw. “Then breathe with me.” And she did.

But nights were harder.

She would jerk awake, drenched in sweat, whispering things she couldn’t say aloud. You’d hold her. Sometimes she’d cry. Other nights, she wouldn’t sleep at all—just sat at the window, cigarette trembling in her hand, staring at nothing.

You didn’t push. You just loved her harder. Calmer mornings, softer kisses. You’d hum to her while she braided your hair or stood behind her while she strummed, your hand on her back. You reminded her that she was here—that she was safe.

But Ellie was never really safe. Not from what was already inside her.

It started slowly—the confusion.

She’d zone out mid-conversation. You’d find her staring at the barn wall for minutes on end. One night, you came into the living room and found her kneeling in front of the fireplace, mumbling Joel’s name over and over.

You called her name. She didn’t hear you.

“Ellie,” you whispered, kneeling beside her. “Baby, I’m here.”

She flinched. “Don’t touch me.”

You pulled your hand back. “It’s me. It’s okay.”

She blinked. Then recognition bloomed across her face—and shame.

“I thought you were her,” she whispered. “I thought you were Abby.”

You swallowed hard and reached for her again. “You know I’m not. I’m here. I love you.”

“I know,” she rasped. “But she’s always in my head. Every time I close my eyes… Joel’s there. And she’s there. And I can't—I can’t tell what’s real anymore.”

You held her through the night. That was the first time you were scared.

The day it happened, the air was thick and still.

Ellie had barely slept. She’d been pacing the house, eyes sunken and wild. You made her tea, cooked her breakfast, tried to hold her hand. She pulled away. Her eyes kept darting to your face, then away. Like she didn’t trust what she saw.

You were standing in the hallway when it happened.

She stepped toward you, slow, trembling. “Abby…”

Your smile faltered. “Ellie, no—it’s me. Look at me.”

But she didn’t hear you.

Her pupils shrank. Her hand reached for the hunting knife on her belt.

“Ellie, please,” you begged. “It’s me. Baby, it’s me.”

You took a step forward—and she lunged.

You didn’t scream. You didn’t have time.

You tried to grab her wrist, tried to pull her back to you, but she was crying and snarling and whispering Joel’s name in broken pieces.

The pain was sudden. Hot. Blinding.

She drove the knife into your abdomen, then again—once in the side of your chest.

You collapsed, gasping, your fingers trembling against her forearm.

And then… it stopped.

She stood over you, breathing heavy. Her knife clattered to the ground.

You reached for her. She backed away. Your lips moved—one last attempt to say her name. To pull her out. But everything went still.

Ellie walked into the kitchen. Her mouth was dry, her chest heaving. She poured a glass of water and stared out the window. The sun was starting to set. The cows needed feeding. You were always reminding her.

“Babe?” she called, voice hoarse. “Hey… where’d you go?”

She checked the porch. The barn. The bedroom. The bathroom.

“Y/N?” Her voice cracked. “Where are you?”

She went outside, looked toward the trees, called again. Nothing.

Frustration twisted into worry. She began searching harder—every room, under every blanket, behind every door. Her breath quickened.

And then, slowly, she turned the corner of the hallway.

There you were.

The floor was stained. Your body lay still. The blood had stopped pooling. Her knife was inches away, still slick.

“No,” she breathed.

Her knees hit the floor. Her hands shook as she reached out—but stopped inches from your face.

“No. No. No, no—what did I… what did I—”

Her breath came out in gasps. Then sobs. Then wails.

She rocked back on her heels, knuckles pressed into her temples. Her guitar sat quietly in the corner of the living room, untouched. A song she wrote for you once still hung in the air, a ghost without a voice.

Ellie stayed there until nightfall. Curled beside you, whispering apologies that would never reach your ears.

And the house—once filled with light—fell into a silence that would never lift.

The night dragged on in pieces.

At some point, Ellie couldn’t feel her body anymore. Her knees were numb. Her hands were stained. She’d sat there for so long, staring at you, whispering things into the silence that didn’t make sense. Begging. Pleading. Bargaining with no one.

“I didn’t mean to,” she mumbled, over and over. “It wasn’t you… it wasn’t you…”

She crawled across the floor, trembling, curling her fingers into your shirt, trying to pull you close—but your body was already cold. Stiff. Heavy in a way that made her sob until her throat gave out.

“No… no, baby, come back. You’re not gone. You can’t be gone. I’ll fix it—I’ll fix it, I promise, just—please—”

She kissed your forehead like it would wake you up. She wiped at your blood like it could undo the stain. She whispered your name like it was a spell. But nothing happened.

Ellie didn’t sleep. She didn’t move.

When the morning light crept in through the windows, it touched her face—pale, swollen, dried tear tracks on her cheeks. Her lips were cracked. Her eyes were bloodshot. She hadn’t drunk the water she’d poured. The glass was still sitting on the counter, untouched. Forgotten.

She stood eventually. Only because her legs forced her to. The floor swayed under her.

She stumbled toward the mirror in the bathroom.

Her reflection stared back—wild-eyed, sunken, stained with grief. Her shirt was soaked in red. Her hands trembled as she looked at herself like she didn’t recognize the person there.

“Who are you,” she whispered. “What the fuck did you do?”

She punched the mirror. It cracked down the center.

Her knuckles split open. She didn’t flinch.

Later that day, she buried you under the tree behind the barn.

You loved that tree. You used to read beneath it, braid wildflowers into Ellie’s hair, kiss her with the sun pouring through the branches.

Now it was a grave.

She dug the hole with her bare hands, the shovel discarded after the first few strikes. She needed to feel the dirt. Needed the punishment. Her skin tore. Her nails broke. Her arms ached. She didn't stop.

When she placed you in the ground, she wrapped you in the blanket you both used to curl up in together during winter. She kissed your forehead one more time.

And then she screamed.

A sound so broken, so animal, it startled the birds from the trees.

It didn’t bring you back.

Inside the house, everything remained untouched.

Your favorite mug on the table. Your guitar pick beside hers. Your pillow still held the shape of your head.

Ellie crawled into bed that night with the same blood-stained clothes. She curled around your absence like it was still warm. She couldn’t tell where her hallucinations ended and reality began anymore.

Sometimes, she heard your voice. Sometimes, she saw your silhouette in the hallway. Sometimes, she dreamed you were still alive—and that she was dead instead.

But every time she woke up, the farmhouse was silent.

And the silence… was louder than any scream.

Do you still dream of me? - (ellie williams x reader)

meep moop, i'm home and i'm here for blood:) I hope yall enjoy this short story while i ease into writing again <3

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts:)

warnings: sadness

Summary: In which you still dream about her

authors note: yall i graduated 12th grade on a random thursday, I'm employed ugh

masterlist

"don't be such a pussy!" She yelled as you stood at the edge of the lake.

"I don't think this is a safe els" you replied with a weary look.

She got out of the water, her clothes soaked and sticking to her skin, hugging her in all the right places.

You would be a fool to look away when this is one of the only opportunities to see her like this in all her glory. Her skin was glowing, her hair wet.

She slowly walked out of the water and it was as if she was moving in slow motion. You couldn't describe what you felt in that moment.

When it came to her, you never could.

You've never been so attracted to someone, you've never trusted someone to this extent, you've never cared for someone so deeply, yet you never could tell her that you felt this way.

"Focus on me" you heard Ellie tell you.

how could you not?

"i am"

"you're not, you're zoning out"

She walked over to where you were sitting, water droplets fell from her hair and clothes. The area where she sat was soaking wet.

"What's bothering you?" she asked.

You sigh and you turn to her, the two of you made eye contact.

Fuck.

If you were an ice cream you'd have melted a long time ago.

"I miss you" you simply said, feeling vulnerable under her gaze. She sighs getting up and turning away from you.

"dont say that"

"but i do els"

"it was for the better"

"no you were selfish" you snap.

her fists clench by her sides

"what's selfish is you not letting me go" she replied.

You stayed silent her words hitting you like a hammer. Her words hurt, it hurt because you knew she was right. There was a long silence between the two of you. You were processing the words Ellie had just spoken and she was waiting for you to reply to what she just said.

She felt regret for leaving you, anger because you waited for her and sadness because she never got to tell you how she really felt.

You felt resentment towards her because how could she do that you, anger because she left and sadness because she never knew how you felt.

She turned to you giving you a small smile, she reached out her hand and she muttered: "do you still dream of me? Because i dream of you"

You looked at her with a shocked expression. This is what you wanted to hear. All these years that you've been no one but your friend. She's admitting it. The confirmation that you needed. Maybe she did feel the same way.

You reach out to grab her hand. That's all you've ever wanted to do.

As soon as you felt her soft hand against yours you woke up with a gasp, breathing heavily. You were in a puddle of your sweat as your eyes searched the room for any sign of her. You got up and ran through the house.

"Ellie?"

"Ellie!"

"Ellie?"

You called over and over again.

The house was just as cold and empty empty as it was when she left 7 months ago.

She went after Abby. She chose Abby over you.

You let out a sigh as you slowly walked back to your room.

She'll be back right?

You got into the bed you'd hope one day you'd share with her. Your head hit the cold pillow as you stared out the window.

Her question replayed in your mind:

"do you still dream of me?"

you let out a lob sob "i do els, every night"

You hoped she heard you. Wherever she was.

<3

Can you do your favorite tropes?

Fake it - ellie williams x reader

Hi anon! I wasn't sure what you meant when you asked for my favorite tropes but my top 3 are: fake dating, forbidden love and the classic enemies to lovers :)

Pairing: ellie x 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 :)

Warnings: none, it's literally just fluff

Summary: You and Ellie reminisce on how the two of you got together

wc: 1k

( if you want to be added to a tag list just leave a comment and I'll add you to future work <3 )

“So” Dina started as she took a swing of the amber liquid in her glass, “how did the two of you get together exactly?” she asked confused on the information you and Ellie just shared with her.

You met Ellie’s gaze, as you thought about answering the question. A grin started to form on Ellie’s plush lips as she stared telling the story:

It was Ellie’s idea. She would’ve never come to you if she wasn’t desperate.

Ellie and Cat.  An unlikely duo. Nobody expected the two of them to start dating but they did. They were together for almost a year. Everyone thought they had the perfect relationship but behind closed doors it was hell. They argued, they lied to each other, they said hurtful things, and they both manipulated each other.

 At some point Ellie had enough and she left Cat. No matter how much it hurt her, she left. She wasn’t going to force herself to stay in a relationship that only brought her pain.

Cat didn’t make things easy for Ellie after the break up.

She would show up at Ellie’s house, she would lie to people saying they never broke up, she always went where Ellie went. She was borderline obsessed with Ellie.

In the beginning she could handle Cat. She could ignore Cat’s advances. But the longer her and cat stayed broken up the more obsessive Cat grew. Ellie didn’t know which was worse, being in a relationship with Cat or being broken up with her.

 And that’s when Joel suggested Ellie gets with someone else. Joel’s exact words were “maybe is she sees you with someone else she’ll leave you alone kiddo. It’s worth a shot”

She tried. God knows she did

Ellie went to the club that night, and just as she was about to leave with a girl Cat came around the corner.

“Babe where have you been?” she asked with a sickening smirk on her face. The pretty girl next to Ellie gasped at Cat’s words.

“You didn’t tell you had a girlfriend” she practically screamed.

“I swear she’s not my girlfriend-“ Ellie tried to explain. Her explanation didn’t go far before the girl slapped Ellie across the face. Walking away she yelled: “you are fucking disgusting”

 Ellie’s face reddened with embarrassment at what just happened, her eyes met with Cats: “did you miss me?” she asked a smug smile on her face.

“no I didn’t“

Ellie needed her stop.

At this rate Ellie would never find a girlfriend.

Who wants to date a girl whose ex is a literal stalker?

And that’s why she sat across you. She needed your help.

“So you want us to fake date?”  you question.

 Ellie nodded, her head jerking almost violently

“Please” she begged “it’s just till she leaves me alone”

You agreed. And it was the best decision of your life.

You and Ellie had 2 rules during the time that you were “together”

No kissing

No falling in love

Fortunately both of you broke the second rule.

It started off great. Holding hands, going on little dates. Cat was mad. Every time she spotted the two of you she looked like a toddler who was ready to burst into a tantrum for not getting their way. Cat tried worming her way into your relationship. She spread rumors, messaged you countless times and tried lying to you about Ellie. She tried. And none of her ideas ever fucking worked.

You would never admit it out loud but you found it quite funny when you and Ellie made an appearance and Cat had to leave the room to “get some air”.

It was all fun and games till you realized that you actually caught feeling for her. You broke one of the rules, and the longer you were with Ellie the worse your crush got. You knew the two of you dating was fake but god it felt so real.

The way Ellie looked at you made you think that maybe someday she would feel the same.

You got a text from Ellie saying: come over we need to talk

Fuck

Tonight was the night Ellie was ending things.

You knew things were coming to an end, but you wish it didn’t have to happen so soon. Your hands were shaking as you sat in Ellie’s living room.

Were you still going to be friends after this? Did you actually stand a chance?

The room was filled with an awkward silence and you looked at Ellie in all her glory. She cleared her throat and said: “Cat stopped texting me” the room fell silent once again.

“ I think she-  I think she’s d-done with me” Ellie said

“That’s good Els” you added

“so this agreement is done?” you asked, voice small hoping Ellie said no.

“Yeah”

Oh.

“It was nice fake dating you Els” you said with a small smile as you got up to leave.

“Who said I was faking it?” she asked suddenly, looking up at you.

 “What do you mean-“  you started before you felt Ellie’s lips on yours. The kiss was magical. It felt like you were floating. Ellie’s lips were soft and her touch was intoxicating. She pulled away as the two of you breathed heavily.

 “God I’ve wanted to do that since I started fake dating you” she said breathless.

You hummed agreeing with her statement. She leaned her forehead against yours.

“Do you want to go on a date?” Ellie asked nervously “like a real date”

You looked at her, with a small smile on your face: “I’d like that” as you brought her lips down for another kiss.

“That’s so fucking cliché” Dina snickered as Ellie finished telling the story.

“Heyyy” Ellie whined “it’s a cool story” she said, as she threw her arm over your shoulder you felt her lips press a gentle kiss to your temple “i’m going to tell this story to our kids one day” Ellie whispered into your ear.

A smile spread onto your lips at Ellie’s confession.

Yeah you might have gotten together to get rid of her psycho ex but if you never did, you wouldn’t have fallen in love with the girl of your dreams.

Authors note: Remember requests are always open! You are loved and remember to always be kind!!

Yours truly,

Zia ;)

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

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have no idea what you do to me.”

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

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

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

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

“Then let them,” you challenge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Professor Ellie Masterlist

thank you for all the love on professor ellie!

masterlist

professor ellie

first time (nsfw)

nsfw headcannons

more headcannons

starting a life together

getting married

having a baby

grading

aurora bloom

baby number 2

more headcannons

more nsfw neadcannons

baby brain

Aurora teaches

student flirting with you

your college party habits

her student calls you milf

ellie's wedding ring obsession

you give a lecture

Aurora's first period