Okay So Kinda A Old Song Butttt It’s My Favorite Can You Do Something With Laugh It Off By Chelsea

more nsfw prof!ellie <3

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

warning: NSFW content! MDNI 18+Keep reading

☆ Ellie is the kind of professor who always appears calm, put-together, and aloof — but underneath, she’s constantly distracted by you.

☆ Her glasses perched low on her nose while she grades your work have become one of your most frequent fantasies.

☆ Ellie has thought about you bent over her desk more times than she cares to admit — right in the same office where she gives lectures and writes papers.

☆ She’ll reread your essays just to touch the paper you touched — especially when you underline your name at the top.

☆ Ellie fantasizes about you showing up to her office in nothing but one of her oversized button-ups, legs bare, eyes wide.

☆ She’s into quiet dominance — never raising her voice, but speaking in that slow, precise tone that makes your thighs press together.

☆ She has a voice kink — the sound of you moaning her name softly into her neck turns her wild.

☆ Ellie has masturbated in her office thinking about you — once after you visited her wearing a short skirt and sat on her desk.

☆ She’s addicted to control: making you beg, holding your wrists down, making you say “please” even when you’re already shaking.

☆ Her dirty talk is academic and filthy: “Look how wet you are for your professor… you think you’re gonna learn anything like this, sweetheart?”

☆ She has dreams of you showing up after-hours, claiming you “need help with something,” only to end up pinned against her bookshelf.

☆ She likes teasing — whispering things in class under her breath only you can hear, smirking when you shift in your seat.

☆ Ellie wants to bend you over her desk and keep your mouth stuffed with your own syllabus. “Hope you’ve been studying, baby.”

☆ She’s a thinker — and that includes sex. She imagines everything in advance. Where your hands will go, how you’ll taste, what you’ll look like crying out for her.

☆ She’s obsessed with lingerie but only if she gets to take it off you with slow fingers and teeth.

☆ Ellie always looks so composed in public — but behind closed doors, she grabs your face with ink-stained fingers and makes you fall apart.

☆ She has a sharp eye for your body language. The second you get needy, she knows — and exploits it.

☆ Ellie wants to ruin you academically and sexually — assign a paper, then fuck you so good you forget what the topic was.

☆ She gets jealous easily, especially when other students flirt with you — her hand slides higher under the table at dinner parties.

☆ She once left a possessive hickey on your neck right before a department event, eyes smug when everyone noticed.

☆ Ellie loves watching you squirm in class after a particularly rough night. “Try to focus, sweetheart,” she’ll whisper as you blush.

☆ She enjoys making you wear discreet toys during her lectures — remote-controlled ones — and pretending not to notice as you struggle.

☆ Her favorite punishment is denial. She’ll edge you for hours, stroking you slow until you’re trembling, then pull away with a smile.

☆ She owns a journal full of fantasies and scenes she wants to try with you — detailed, organized by category, complete with diagrams.

☆ Ellie records her voice reading excerpts from her favorite books — soft, slow — and sends them to you to fall asleep to.

☆ She once wrote an erotic story about you as a writing exercise. It got her so worked up she had to take a break to handle herself.

☆ Ellie is obsessed with your scent — she’ll bury her nose in your hair, your thighs, your clothes. It grounds her.

☆ She keeps a pair of your panties tucked away in her drawer — stolen after a long night, worn thin between her fingers.

☆ She’s possessive in bed — constantly reminding you that you belong to her. “Say it,” she’ll demand, fingers deep inside you.

☆ Ellie has absolutely no issue with taking you over her desk while wearing her glasses and grading with the other hand — multitasking queen.

☆ Ellie likes to drag it out — foreplay can last hours if she has her way. She enjoys watching you slowly unravel.

☆ Her fingers are deadly — long, calloused, practiced. She knows how to curl them just right to make your stomach clench.

☆ She prefers missionary — not out of simplicity, but control. She wants to see every expression, hear every whimper.

☆ Ellie talks you through every orgasm. “You’re doing so good… just like that… let go, I’ve got you.”

☆ She likes to tie your wrists with her old ties from conferences. She makes knots with precision.

☆ Ellie’s favorite position is having you straddle her lap — shirt off, skirt still on — while she sits back and watches you ride her.

☆ She loves licking you open while you beg her to stop teasing. Her tongue is slow, focused, merciless.

☆ Ellie has a thing for spanking — not harsh, but enough to make your thighs twitch and leave her handprint.

☆ She once made you come three times before letting you touch her. “This is about you tonight.”

☆ Ellie marks her territory with her mouth — bites, hickeys, lipstick stains, spit.

☆ She’s into mutual masturbation — sitting thigh-to-thigh, watching you fall apart while she touches herself too.

☆ Ellie loves morning sex — lazy, slow, possessive. She’ll bury her face in your neck and grind until you both lose it.

☆ Her voice drops a whole octave when she gets turned on. It’s dangerous.

☆ She’s meticulous about aftercare — water, wiping you down, pulling you into her chest like you’re made of glass.

☆ Ellie has whispered “mine” into your mouth more times than she can count — like it’s a prayer.

☆ Ellie’s biggest kink is power — having it, sharing it, taking it away.

☆ She loves watching herself fuck you in the mirror. It turns her on seeing how desperate she makes you.

☆ She’s into soft degradation — “You’re such a needy little thing for your professor, aren’t you?”

☆ Ellie’s obsession with knowledge extends into sex — she reads books, watches videos, takes notes. She’s always improving.

☆ She gets off on your innocence — the way you look up at her, eager to please, so damn trusting.

☆ She’s got a praise kink too: “That’s it, baby. That’s my girl. So fucking good for me.”

☆ She’s into teasing you in public — her hand on your thigh under a table, her lips brushing your ear when she talks.

☆ Ellie once left you tied to her bed while she lectured — came home to you a mess of tears and arousal.

☆ She likes whispering instructions in your ear while you touch yourself. “Slower. Now faster. Don’t stop ‘til I say.”

☆ Ellie likes choking — gently, safely — just enough to make your world go hazy and your body trust her completely.

☆ She’s obsessed with the way your body responds to her voice alone — it makes her cocky, smug, hungry.

☆ She has a small collection of toys she uses only on you — each chosen with thought, cleaned with care.

☆ Ellie has a marking kink — she wants you walking out of her room with bruised hips and lips.

☆ She’s into roleplay — professor/student, of course. She plays it too well.

☆ Ellie once made you write a 500-word apology for teasing her in public — then read it aloud while she touched you.

☆ After she fucks you, she holds you like you’re the most important discovery of her life.

☆ Ellie keeps your moans recorded on her phone — labeled by date like research files.

☆ When you wear her clothes after sex, she stares like you just walked off a dream.

☆ She’s the type to kiss your hands reverently after restraining them — both apology and affection.

☆ Ellie gets quiet after — soft kisses, fingers brushing your hair, little murmurs like “I love having you like this.”

☆ She calls you “my girl” so casually, like it’s written into her DNA.

☆ Ellie once told you, “No matter what happens, no one will ever fuck you the way I do.” She meant it.

☆ She gets possessive when others see your marks — but secretly loves when they know you're hers.

☆ Ellie fantasizes about living with you — sex in her kitchen, grading while you ride her on the couch, lazy mornings with your thighs around her head.

☆ The smartest woman in the room, and all she ever wants is to see you underneath her, moaning her name like she’s your only thought.

I would love to see you write an unrequited love story with I’m not a mountain by Sarah kinsley always gets me in my feels

I'm not a mountain (ellie wiliams x reader)

Hi anon! sorry it took me so long to write this, I couldn't think of a good plot, but I finally got something! I hope you enjoy <3

This story is based off the song I'm not a mountain by Sarah Kingsly so 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!

Warnings: violence and death, Ellie being stupid

Summary: In which Ellie makes stupid decisions

wc: 2.1k

(La da da da da da)

If I could choose the things that I knew

And all the things that I'd see

I'd let the room fill with memories until

The walls were staring at me

Ellie sighed as she opened her eyes. She sat up, bringing her right hand to scratch her head.

She couldn’t sleep. You plagued her mind like a disease. For some fucking reason it seems the memory of you was stuck in her mind.

The way you smiled. The way you laughed at her. The way you dressed depending on your mood. The way you-

 Fuck.

She had work tomorrow. She should be sleeping. But you were running circles through her mind.

Ellie looked at her desk that sat in the corner of her room. She let out a loud groan at the memory of you sitting at the table and looking at her with puppy eyes begging her to go out with you.

You were everywhere. Everywhere she looked, everything in her room had you written all over it.

 Your spirit lingered there.

“What?” Ellie asked loudly as she looked at the stuffed dinosaur you gave on her birthday. “You think I’m stupid too?” she asked as if it would respond to her.

She had work tomorrow she shouldn’t be awake but you.

God you were making it hard for her.

“I fucking hate you” Ellie muttered as she lay back down, bringing the blanket over her head.

She knew she was lying.

She doesn’t hate you. She could never. But she really needed to stop thinking about you.

The mystery of life is just taking flight

I watch the walls closing in

So I swallow my pride and I take another bite

I guess I'm dreaming again

“I love you” Ellie muttered.

 “I know els” you replied with a small smile.

 “please come back” Ellie begged. “I can’t” you simply said, still having that sweet smile on your face.

“No- no you said you would always be here for me” Ellie spoke back tears filling her eyes.

 “things change Ellie”

“no- no please- “

“Fuck!” Ellie screamed as she woke up. It was another fucking dream.

You already haunt her with the memories the two of you have together, now you were showing up in her dreams.

 She couldn’t escape you.

She wanted to hate you. She wanted to blame you for everything that went wrong in her life. But she couldn’t because all of this was her fault. It was her fault that you left. It was Ellie’s fault that you died. But she couldn’t accept it.

It was as if you were still here. Barging into her room with that stupid smile of yours saying “look what I have els”.

But you weren’t there anymore. The only thing left was the memories. And countless dreams Ellie has of you.

Ellie finally understands what people meant when they said you never know how much you truly love someone till you lose them.

She wishes she could go back in time and tell herself to wake up and to tell you how she felt.

How much she loved you. How much she appreciated you.

But you were gone. You were never coming back.

I swear I'm unattached

Living in the past but

I can't get off my feet

You say we'll all go mad

But I don't believe that

So you'll prove it to me

Ellie always knew she had a crush on you.

She remembered the day she and Joel walked into Jackson for the first time. You stood behind Tommy with wide eyes looking at the two of them.

Ellie’s first words to you were: “you have a staring problem or am I just that beautiful?” and you replied: “I think I might have a staring problem”

And since that day the two of you were inseparable.

You both followed each other everywhere. Where Ellie went, you were always there. Joel knows if he ever needed to look for Ellie, she would be at your house. People would even joke and say the two of you were sisters. That how close you were.

When Ellie realized she was in love with you, she was 15.

 You were helping her at the stables with her horse Shimmer.

“You think shimmer is a cool name?” you had asked Ellie

“No I would’ve named her something space related”

“Mars”

“What?”

“I think you would’ve named her Mars”

“How did you know I was gonna call her that?” Ellie questioned puzzled

“Because you’ve been talking about Mars for the last 2 weeks”

“You listen to me?”

“Of course I do Ellie. What friend would I be if I didn’t listen??

And in that moment Ellie knew you were the one for her.

Years went by and Ellie’s crush on you grew. She would never admit it out loud but she would sabotage all your relationships. When you brought someone home, or when you tell Ellie you went on a date with someone she would find the person and threaten them.

She would tell them to stay away from you.

Her girl.

You never knew why your relationships never worked out. You really thought there was something wrong with you. But little did you know, it was your best friend who got rid of anyone that was interested in you.

Ellie smiled at the memory of the two of you talking about changing Shimmers name. Ellie brought her hand up to run her fingers through Shimmers mane.

“You miss her too?” Ellie asked the horse but she received no answer.

“Well I miss her” Ellie spoke softly.

 “You look like shit” she heard Jesse’s voice suddenly talk from behind her.

 “shut up”

“when was the last time you got some sleep?” Jesse asked, seriously concerned about his best friend.

“That’s not important”

“Ellie- “

“Jesse drop it?” she spoke through gritted teeth.

Jesse let out a sigh “we’re all worried about you Ellie?”

 “I don’t fucking care” Ellie snapped, as she got onto Shimmer “I’m not in the mood for your pity. Now shut up and get on the horse”

Jesse let out a defeated sigh as he hopped on the horse.

“Let’s get this over with”

(La da da da da da)

If I could choose, I'd never lose

I'd always take without giving

I wrote down the truth in letters to you

But I know you'll never get them

The air surrounding Ellie and Jesse was tense as they rode in silence.

“It’s Wednesday” Ellie suddenly said.

“You want to visit her?” Jesse asked.

 “Yeah”

“we all miss her Ellie” he started “It wasn’t your fault- “

“it was” Ellie cut him off “If I didn’t kill her girlfriend she would’ve not left Jackson and she wouldn’t have died”

“Why did you kill Abby?”

And Ellie fell silent. She killed Abby because she was in love with you. She had to do something. She remembers the day as if it was yesterday. Abby was your longest relationship ever. Ellie had told the blonde to stay away from you multiple times but she didn’t. She stayed with you.

Ellie’s hatred towards the girl grew when the two of you moved in. You were happy. You were happier with Abby than what you were with her. You even started hanging out less. Ellie was losing you, and she didn’t like it. You belonged to her. No one else. But yet you moved in with someone else.

You had never given Ellie an indication that you liked her. Every time she would try and flirt with you, you would just laugh it off and say: “very funny Ellie”. Every move she would try and make on you, you would either laugh it off or ignore her.

One day Dina said “you guys would make a cute couple”

Ellie felt heat spread across her cheeks. She was probably as red at a tomato. Before Ellie could say anything you let out a laugh saying “me and Ellie? Never in a million years” you laughed.

Ellie cried. She cried for weeks. She even tried avoiding you, but like a moth to a flame she always went back to you.

When you started dating Abby she was filled with jealousy. But she had no right to be jealous. You weren’t even together.

One winter night, a night Ellie knew you wouldn’t be home, she decided to pay Abby a visit.

“What are you doing here?” the blonde asked her. “I’m here to make peace” Ellie lied. Abby let her in with a shocked expression.

“I’m actually surprised” Abby spoke, as soon as she turned her back towards Ellie, Ellie pulled out a knife stabbing the blonde in the back. Abby let out a groan, as she turned around to face Ellie, the knife still in her back. When she faced Ellie, Ellie brought out another knife bringing it into Abby’s stomach. Abby’s eyes widened, blood slowly dripping from her wound. Ellie watched as Abby’s eyes roll to the back of her head before she heard your voice.

You weren’t supposed to be here.

“Baby do you think I’d look good with- Ellie?” you asked, surprised to see her here.  Your eyes moved from Ellie to your girlfriend bleeding. The dark red liquid already decorated the floor.

And sadly Abby passed away a few hours later due to blood loss.

What Ellie did was unforgivable. She murdered the love of your life in cold blood. “forgive and forget” they said.

You weren’t sure if you could ever forgive or forget the murder of your girlfriend. The girl you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. And what makes it worse was that it was your best friend. The girl who was supposed to comfort you. The girl you trusted with your life.

You hated Ellie. You really did.

“Jesse, can I go talk to her alone?” Ellie asked.

 Jesse gave her a sympatric smile: “yeah go ahead I’ll be here when you get back.” Ellie hopped off Shimmer and she started walking up the hill.

 When she eventually reached the top, a single cross decorated the hill. You name carved onto it. There were fresh pink flowers, Ellie could only assume Joel must’ve been here.

“Hi” she spoke softly as she approached the grave. Ellie sat down in front of the cross, her legs crossed. “It’s been a while” she chuckled “you really have to stop appearing in my dreams I’m tired as hell, even Jesse noticed I don’t sleep” she laughed once more.

“I got you something” Ellie spoke. She pulled out a pile of letters neatly folded. “You’ve been gone for 203 days she stared. I wrote you a letter for each day.” She spoke softly, afraid that she might wake you up and scare you away. Ellie gently placed the stack of letters beneath the flowers.

She hoped maybe the letters would break down and sink into the ground, and that maybe you’d read it. Or maybe your spirit would come down and read them. She hopes you’d somehow read them and understand why she did what she did. She did it because she loved you.

Ellie has many regrets in her life, but the biggest one was, letting you leave Jackson, without her telling you how she felt about you.

Before Ellie got up she brought her lips to the cross, giving it a gentle kiss. “I’m so sorry baby” Ellie spoke and she got up and left to continue patrol with Jesse.

If I were a mountain, I'd stand my ground

And maybe I'd never listen

But if I were a mountain, I'd close my mouth and

Maybe I'd be forgiving

But I'm not

I'm not

I'm not

I'm not

When Ellie found out you had left Jackson it felt like whole world was being ripped apart.

“What do you mean she left?” Ellie yelled at Maria.

 “Ellie she has nothing to live for anymore, it’s better that she goes out and finds purpose”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“You killed her girlfriend Ellie, you are the last person she wants to see”

Ellie was going after you. She was going to tell you how she felt. She marched out of Maria’s office and ran straight to the stables, hopping on Shimmer.

“Which direction did she go?” Ellie asked one of the guards at the gate.

“She went north” he replied.

“C’mon Shimmer move faster” she begged the horse.

There was still time she could still get to you, and convince you to stay. Ellie would finally reveal how she truly felt about you. She could tell you why she killed Abby. She would make you understand.

Ellie and shimmer were running for a few hours before her eyes landed on a familiar backpack. Ellie hopped of her horse, she pulled out her gun walking over to the pink and purple backpack that you carried everywhere with you.

As she approached the bag she heard the sound of a clicker.

*click, click, click*

 Ellie turned her head to the direction of where the sound came from and there you lay.

 Lifeless.

Ellie let out a scream and the clicker looked at her, and it started charging towards her. Ellie shot it at point blank and she ran to where you lay.

 “No” she breathed as the tears rolled down her cheeks as she walked towards your body.

There was blood everywhere, she almost didn’t recognize you. You were bruised. Covered in blood, scratch marks littered your skin.

Ellie went down onto her knees as she took you into her arms, and she let out loud sobs.

 This was all her fault.

I'm not a mountain

I can't hold you on my own

I'm not a mountain

I will crumble when you go

There in the square, my arms in the air

And is it so bad to be alone?

I can do it on my own

Is it really so bad?

Is it really so bad?

I can do it on my own

How do you continue living if you lost the love of your life?

Ellie understands now how it felt when you lost Abby. She now understands why you left Jackson.

You were lonely. Empty.

 Ellie stood at the gates of Jackson. She sees no point in living here anymore. Everywhere she looked she saw you. Every place had a piece of you and she got sick of it.

Ellie wanted to be ok. She wanted to feel like herself again. She wanted to forgive herself, but she couldn’t. So she’s running away from her problems. Like a coward.

As Ellie walked in the woods she thought to herself, maybe being alone won’t be so bad. She won’t have Jesse or Joel breathing down her neck constantly asking her if she was ok.

Of course she wasn’t fucking ok, why do they keep asking?

Ellie saw a familiar hill, and walked up to it. The letters she’d placed were still under the flowers someone had left.

Ellie lay next to your grave, hoping that someone would come and kill her. Maybe in the afterlife she could tell you how much she loved you.

And hopefully you’d forgive her, and she’d finally get the happily ever she’s always dreamed of.

Authors note: this was long oneeeeee, I hope you all enjoyed, remember you are loved and to always be kind…. My requests are always open feel free to leave one:)

Yours truly,

Zia<3

Mary - (ellie williams x reader)

for @fleshunger ty for being patient, ily <3

This story is based off the song Mary by Alex G, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading! There is another version to this fic! You can read it here:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open again! send me your silly thoughts

warnings: angst.

Summary: in which you left her to rot

authors note: lmao yall probably hate me for posting so much, forgive me pookies, I swear after tomorrow i'll post less....

Mary is the girl that I wanna kiss

She's got big red eyes and big red lips

She's got big sharp teeth and big fat hips

Mary is the girl that I wanna fuck

She's got leather heart and leather gloves

She's the only girl that I wanna love

"I wanna kiss her so bad" Ellie vented to Dina.

Dina rolled her eyes at Ellie.

She was in love. Really in love.

In all the years Dina has known Ellie she has never seen her this down bad.

"What's so special about this girl anyway?" She asked as she took a bite from Ellie's sandwich.

"What type of a question is that?" Ellie asked. She felt disrespected on your behalf.

"She's got beautiful eyes- and she looks good with red lipstick. Even without lipstick, her lips are so kissable"

A small smile appeared on Dina's face as she listened to her friend describe the girl she was so deeply in love with.

"She's got big fat hips too and I just want to eat her-"

"woah Ellie calm down, that's too much information"

Ellie's face went red with embarrassment.

"How'd you meet her" Dina asked.

"at a fruit Market" Ellie replied with a shrug.

Bananas or oranges?

Bananas?

Oranges?

Ellie was currently thinking about what she should get as she stood in front of the fruit stand. Since when was it so fucking difficult to choose fruit?

"If you think harder, much you might explode" she heard someone chuckle next to her.

Ellie turned to where your voice was coming from, her heart rate suddenly increased.

Angles are fucking real.

"um- yeah" Ellie responded awkwardly.

She cleared her throat and she fixed her posture.

"Bananas or orange?" She asked you.

What the fuck Ellie? Why would you fucking ask that?

You turned your head to look at the fruit, before you reached out to grab a banana.

"It looks fresher" you shrugged as you gave the banana to her.

Your fingertips brushed against hers, and a shock of electricity ran through Ellie.

Her palms felt sweaty, she couldn't breathe.

Focus Ellie. Focus.

"Thank you" You gave her a small smile as you started walking away.

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

"hey wait!" Ellie yelled as you started walking away.

You turned around to look at her.

"Can I have your number?"

"That's fucking cliché" Dina laughed.

"shut up" Ellie muttered annoyed.

The two girl fell into a comfortable silence as Ellie's thoughts wondered to you.

Oh you would've loved this salad. You would've loved this ice tea. Maybe she should've asked you to come out instead of Dina

*ding*

Ellie reached down to grab her phone. It was you.

Her girl.

Not officially her girlfriend yet, but soon.

She clicked onto the notification with your name.

"Come over please"

fuck yes

Ellie jumped up, and she looked at Dina with a grin.

"My girl is looking for me"

Dina laughed at her friends excitement.

"go get her tiger"

Ellie gave Dina a hug as she ran towards your apartment.

Today she felt confident. Today she was the day she was going to ask you to be her girlfriend. You messaging her was a sign from the gods above.

Ellie's legs were hurting, and she was out of breathe but she was on her way to finally tell the girl of her dreams that she was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

Listen to me, baby, I don't mind

I wanna be with you and waste my time

Give it to me, baby, I feel good

I wanna feel whatever you think I should

Sing it for me, baby, play my song

I wanna hear your daddy sing along

Mary is the girl that leaves you to rot

She says, "I am real and you are not"

She says, "I am real and you are not"

Ellie knocked at your front door.

She kept knocking and she's been standing outside of your apartment for the last 10 minutes.

Where were you? Maybe you were laying dead on the floor?

Ellie knocked and knocked but yet you never came.

Was this a prank?

She held the doorknob as she opened the door.

It was open this whole time.

Ellie slowly walked into your apartment, and she looked around the place you called home.

It felt oddly empty.

The little trinkets you kept around was all suddenly gone.

The apartment filled with so much life at one point, suddenly dull and lifeless.

Ellie's eyes went around the room and her eyes landed on a white envelope.

On the front was your pretty handwriting and Ellie's name decorated the front.

With shaky hands Ellie picked it up, and she opened it.

Dear Ellie

Or should I say banana girl?

She chucked remembering your first interaction.

I'm sorry for what I'm about to tell you, please don't hate me. I truly never wanted to hurt you Ellie. But I know you have feelings for me. I don't feel the same way. I never wanted to reject you, because I valued our friendship too much. So for the sake of your feelings, I left. I changed my number, so you wont be able to message me. I'm sorry Els.

I love you.

Ellie didn't realize that she started shaking till she finished reading the letter.

She tore the letter apart and her knees buckled.

She fell to the ground sobbing.

You made feel so alive, but you just killed her again.

All the love Ellie had for you was rotting away into hated.

She loved you so much but you left her to rot.

hellooo

I’m obsessed w the song Drunk, Running by Lizzy McAlpine. do you think you could write a ellie x reader based on that song plsss 🥺

thx so much!!

Drunk, Running - ellie williams x reader

hi anon! I had two ideas for the ending, lmk if you want a different version!! I hope you enjoy:)

this story is based off the song, Drunk, Running by Lizzy McAlpine. If you can listen to the song as you're reading:)

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

requests are open, send me your thoughts and ideas!!

warnings: codependent relationship themes, alcohol use, emotional manipulation (subtle, mutual), unresolved trauma, toxic dynamic, mentions of anxiety/panic

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

masterlist

You don’t remember how you got here.

Not the room—you know this place like your own heartbeat. You could walk it blindfolded. It’s the ache in your ribs, the burn in your lungs, the sting of regret creeping up your throat that you can’t place.

Ellie’s doorway leans the same way it always has. Crooked. Waiting.

And she’s there. She’s always there.

Sitting on the edge of her bed with a cigarette between her fingers, head tilted back, red eyes glossy like she’s already lived this night a thousand times. Like she’s been here before, waiting for you to walk in and fall apart in front of her.

“Been drinkin’ again?” she asks.

You nod. She doesn’t move. And neither do you.

You taste vodka and guilt, and something like hope when you whisper, “I couldn’t sleep.”

She shrugs, tapping ash into the same cracked mug she never washes. “I didn’t ask.”

That should’ve hurt. Maybe it does.

But you’re not here for kindness. You’re here because this is the only place where the world stops spinning, even if it’s just for a second.

Even if the stillness breaks you. Even if it’s Ellie breaking you.

“I walked here,” you say, trying to fill the silence that’s pressing hard against your ears. “Didn’t even put on shoes.”

“You’re gonna cut your feet,” she murmurs. She still won’t look at you.

“They’re already bleeding.”

Finally, her eyes meet yours.

And for a second, there’s a flicker of something softer. A glint of that girl who once traced constellations across your shoulder blades in the dark and called you her galaxy.

“You always come back,” she says, like it’s a curse.

You blink. “I always leave.”

“You always come back drunk.”

You laugh, bitter. “Maybe that’s the only time I’m brave enough.”

Ellie’s jaw flexes. You know that expression. She’s doing math in her head, counting how many times you’ve done this. Walked in, broken. Asked her to fix you. Let her hold you. Only to walk out again with your ribs sewn shut and your voice hoarse from the things you never said.

“You ever wonder if we just—" she stops, runs a hand through her hair, frustrated. “If we’re only this because we’re scared to be something else?”

Your throat goes dry. She never talks like this. Not when she’s sober. Not when you’re not.

“I think we’re poison,” you whisper.

She scoffs. “Then why do you keep drinking me?”

You step toward her like your bones are moving without permission. Like they remember the way she feels before your mind does. Like they’re in love with her even when you’ve forgotten how.

“’Cause it’s the only thing that makes it stop hurting.”

Ellie doesn’t pull away when you kneel in front of her. When your head falls into her lap. When your hands clutch at her thighs like a lifeline. Her fingers slip into your hair, gentle. Devastating. Like nothing’s wrong.

Like this isn’t killing both of you.

“You smell like cheap vodka and bad choices,” she says, but it’s so soft you almost think she’s trying to love you with the words.

“I miss you,” you breathe.

“You don’t,” she says back. “You miss the version of me who let you run.”

The silence drapes over the room like fog.

“I miss the version of me who didn’t,” you finally whisper.

And that’s when she leans down, foreheads touching, breath against your lips like a promise neither of you know how to keep.

“You were never supposed to love me like this,” she says, and you feel it like a knife.

“You taught me how,” you reply, and she shatters in your hands.

She kisses you like a warning. You kiss her like a prayer.

And it’s all teeth and memory and the kind of desperation that tastes like blood. Her hands grip your waist like she’s trying to hold together something that’s already cracked.

She lays you down. You let her. You always let her.

And when she curls around you after, her voice barely audible, she asks the same question she always does.

“Will you stay this time?”

And you give the same answer you always do.

“I don’t know how.”

You leave in the morning. You always do.

And behind you, Ellie lights another cigarette, watches the sunrise she never asked for, and whispers into the silence: I would’ve waited forever.

Ellie hadn’t realized the silence was healing her until the ache stopped being the first thing she felt when she woke up. It started subtly.

Your name stopped echoing every time her phone buzzed. Her hands stopped trembling at 3AM. She stopped checking the sidewalk in front of her apartment like you’d be barefoot again, drunk, bleeding, mumbling something about needing to be held.

She stopped waiting for you to come undone in her doorway. And in the quiet you left behind, she started building a life that didn’t require loving you in pieces.

She read more. Fixed the broken step on her porch. Learned how to cook something other than grilled cheese. Stopped sleeping in the middle of the bed. Not because she expected you back, but because it felt better.

Peaceful, even.

She thought of you sometimes. Of course she did.

The way you smiled when you were too tired to fake it. The way your hands always shook when you said you didn’t care. The way you used her like a lighthouse, then cursed the fire when you got too close.

You never meant to be cruel. But that didn’t make it less cruel.

Still, Ellie never stopped loving you. She just stopped setting herself on fire to keep you warm.

And so, when your knock finally came—not a drunken stumble, not a crash, just one soft tap-tap-tap—Ellie was already standing.

Barefoot. Coffee in hand. Awake before dawn because she’d stopped dreading it.

When she opened the door and saw you—sober, eyes clear, jacket zipped—it was like meeting someone entirely new. Or maybe someone you were before the chaos.

“Hey,” you said.

Her throat was dry. “Hey.”

You smiled, almost sheepish. “I didn’t come to fall apart this time.”

That made her chest seize up in ways she wasn’t ready for.

You stood there, hands buried in your coat pockets, shifting like you didn’t know if you had the right to be here anymore. Like you didn’t expect her to open the door.

“I just…” you licked your lips. “I’ve been trying. I’ve been going to therapy. I’ve stopped drinking. It’s been four months. I journal. I even got a cat.”

Ellie blinked. “You hate cats.”

“She hates me too. It’s a good match.”

That pulled a soft laugh out of her, unfiltered. You looked so… real. Not desperate. Not frantic. Not aching.

“I’ve missed you,” you said. “But not like before. Not like… like you’re the only thing keeping me alive. I just… miss you. Not the pain. Not the mess.”

She leaned against the doorframe, letting herself exhale.

“Why now?” she asked. “Why today?”

You bit your lip. “Because for the first time, I wasn’t scared to be alone. And I think… maybe that means I’m ready to be with someone. Not to survive. Just to be.”

She wanted to say something poetic. Something that sounded like closure or beginning or both.

But all she could manage was: “Do you want to come in?”

You smiled like it meant everything.

“Only if you want me to.”

Ellie stepped aside. And this time, you walked in with your shoes on, your voice steady, your hands not shaking.

You didn’t fall into her arms like you were drowning. You stood beside her. Still. Sober.

And when she reached for your hand, it wasn’t trembling.

This is how the cycle ends. Not with fireworks. Not with a breakdown. But with quiet recognition. With two people choosing each other—not out of fear, but out of love that finally feels safe.

It’s almost embarrassing how mundane it is.

The morning light spills through the apartment like it’s always belonged there—soft, forgiving. Your cat (the one who still barely tolerates you) is curled on the windowsill, tail flicking rhythmically. Ellie’s in the kitchen, humming under her breath while flipping pancakes she knows you like just a little burnt on the edges.

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, wrapped in one of her old flannels, thumbing through a book she lent you. You’ve underlined every other sentence.

She says nothing about it.

Just brings you a cup of coffee exactly the way you like it now. Two sugars. No cream. You’d stopped adding cream when you realized you used to drown the bitterness out of habit, not taste.

“How’s the book?” she asks.

You look up at her—hair messy, tattoo sleeve half-covered by a hoodie, eyes kind in the way that used to terrify you. You used to run from kindness like it was a threat.

Now you let it hold you.

“It’s good,” you murmur. “I think I’m finally understanding it.”

She leans against the counter and raises a brow. “The themes or the words?”

“Both.”

She grins. “Progress.”

You smile back. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

Ellie walks over, slow and sure. Crouches beside your chair, presses her forehead to your knee like it’s instinct. Her fingers curl around yours. Grounding.

“You gave up on yourself first,” she says quietly. “I was just waiting for you to remember who you are.”

You blink back the sting behind your eyes. Not sadness. Just... release.

“I was so scared,” you whisper.

“I know.”

“I thought loving you meant losing myself.”

She nods, solemn. “And I thought loving you meant saving you.”

You both sit with that. Not in shame—just recognition.

“I’m not a project anymore,” you say.

“No,” she agrees, looking up at you. “You’re my partner.”

You press your lips to her forehead. She closes her eyes. Breakfast burns slightly on the stove, but neither of you move.

Later, you water the plants while Ellie grades papers. Your cat hisses when you try to pet her and Ellie snorts behind her laptop. You walk past her and kiss her temple. She tugs you onto her lap and lets you fall asleep like that—safe, full, warm. When you wake up, the sun is fading, and Ellie’s fingers are tracing the line of your spine through the fabric of her flannel.

“You think we’ll always be this boring?” you tease.

She smiles against your shoulder.

“I hope so.”

OR UUST LIKE THE FIRST TIME THEY DO IT SHES SO GENTLE

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

warning: NSFW content! MDNI 18+

☆ Ellie’s stares linger — too long, too intense. She’s studied every detail of your face, from the way your lashes lower when you're flustered to how your lips twitch when you’re nervous.

☆ Even before anything happens, she’s gently possessive. Walking you to your car. Checking if you’ve eaten. Leaving you notes like: “Don’t skip meals. Your brain’s too pretty to starve.”

☆ Study sessions blur into deep, aching conversations. Ellie leans close, hand brushing yours “accidentally” more often, and when your knees touch, she doesn’t pull away.

☆ She tests the waters. A hand on your thigh during a shared laugh. Fingers brushing your lower back as she moves past you. Every time, she watches your reaction like it’s data.

☆ Ellie never rushes. She peels back your fears and walls with quiet intimacy — until you're exposed emotionally long before you are physically.

☆ She thinks about you constantly, but she buries the filthier thoughts — for now. She wants the first time to be something you remember forever. Something clean. Almost holy.

☆ It finally happens when you fall asleep in her office during a rainstorm. You’re curled up in her chair, cheeks soft, lips parted. She presses her hand to her heart and mutters, “Fuck, I love you.”

☆ Ellie is slow, deliberate. She asks, “Are you sure?” more than once. Not because she doubts you — but because she can’t believe she finally gets to have you like this.

☆ She doesn’t rush. Every kiss feels like a poem. Every touch is a sentence. She wants to memorize you.

☆ Ellie never stops looking at you. Her voice drops to a whisper, “Let me see you,” and every time your eyes flutter shut, she kisses them open.

☆ She undresses you like she’s unwrapping something sacred. Fingers trembling, voice low: “You’re so beautiful… God, you’re unreal.”

☆ She trails kisses down your neck, your chest, your stomach — pausing to breathe you in like she’s trying to brand the memory into her bones.

☆ She can’t shut up. “You’re perfect,” “You feel like heaven,” “I’ve waited so long for this.” Every word from her lips is soaked in reverence.

☆ She touches you with unbearable care — slow, attentive, gentle enough to make you cry. She whispers, “Tell me what feels good. I want to do it right.”

☆ She nearly tears up when you moan her name for the first time. “Don’t say it like that,” she chokes, “I’m gonna lose it.”

☆ She lets you undress her too — biting her lip as your hands explore. She’s shy, almost bashful, but you can tell how much it affects her.

☆ Between kisses, she leans her forehead against yours. “I’ve never wanted someone like this,” she murmurs, brushing her thumb over your cheek.

☆ There’s no teasing, no performance. It’s raw and honest — Ellie letting herself be soft and human in a way she never shows anyone else.

☆ She keeps whispering your name, like it’s a lifeline. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” she asks, not possessively — but like she’s in awe that it’s real.

☆ She laces your fingers together while inside you. It grounds her. Anchors her to the moment. “Don’t let go,” she says. “Please.”

☆ She wraps you in her arms after — tucks the blanket over you, tucks herself behind you, hand splayed across your stomach like she’s protecting something precious.

☆ She mumbles things in your hair. “You feel like home,” “I’ve wanted this for so long,” “You’re everything.” Half-asleep, full of emotion.

☆ In her mind, she promises: This is only the beginning. I’ll learn every inch of her body. I’ll make her fall apart in a thousand new ways.

☆ After that first time, Ellie starts asking questions. “Do you like it when I hold your wrists?” “What if I got rougher next time?”

☆ You catch glimpses — how her eyes darken when you whimper, how she clenches her jaw when you say please.

☆ She gently pins your hands one night — just to see how you react. When you moan? Her whole body shudders.

☆ The next time, she kisses you harder. Her voice gains weight. She starts giving soft orders. “Spread your legs. Good girl.”

☆ Ellie realizes she loves having control — not to dominate, but to cherish and undo you. Her obsession becomes deeper, darker.

☆ She brings it out a toy nervously, checking your expression. “We don’t have to—” but when you nod, the switch flips. She grins like she’s been waiting for this.

☆ She’s addicted to every reaction you give. The soft gasps. The bitten lip. The trust. She knows she could break you — and the only reason she doesn’t is because she loves you too much.

super confident!ellie x really bold and forward reader at a party and they’re both just bored and the more ellie talks to reader the more shes stumbling over her words by how quickly she responds to ellie’s lines and ellie knows she’s fucked bc she cant stop thinking about the girl that she fucked at the party yayyyyy

Rose - (ellie williams x reader)

hi anon! i had so many ideas for this, i might make a part 2 because yes or ill make a different version ughhhh...i hope you enjoy it<3

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts

warnings: sexual themes

Summary: in which she cant forget you

authors note: i submitted my application, lets see if i get accepted because i will lose my mind if i don't

masterlist

The smell of weed was the first thing that reached Ellie's nose when she walked into the house.

Mid term exams has had her stressed and she's barley been out. Whoever said college would be easy, lied because she's never been this stressed.

She needed to blow off some steam and what better way is there than to get blackout out drunk and to fuck a random girl she'll never talk to again.

It was too early in the night to make a move. She need to wait for the straight girls to get drunk, and for the overly emotional girls to come her way.

She sat on a couch scanning the room. So many victims, so many options.

Who will be the lucky girl tonight?

"You know its gross to eye fuck innocent people?" she heard a voice talk next to her.

A small frown appeared on Ellie's face when she turned to you.

Holy shit, who are you?

Her eyes scanned your body.... fuck

Maybe you'd be the lucky one

You noticed her staring and you rolled your eyes before saying: "Take your pervert eyes off me"

Oh you were feisty.

Ellie never had a problem with women. Most of them threw themselves at her, all she needed to do was say a few words and give them a small smile and they'd be moaning her name minutes later.

She was confident that she'll get you too. She just needed to pull out all the stops when it came to you.

Ellie chuckled at your comment "I'm not a pervert, I'm just checking to make sure you don't have a weapon on you?" she joked.

"What weapon? My strap on?" You snorted.

oh.

Ellie wasn't expecting that.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" you teased at her sudden silence.

Ellie shook her head quickly gaining her composure.

"Has anyone ever told you that you were pretty?" She quickly tried changing the subject.

You hummed "quite a few... has anyone ever told you that you suck at flirting?"

Now this made her jaw drop.

You didn't giggle like she expected, you didn't give her a shy smile.

What the fuck is happening?

"You're boring" you state, you got up and left.

You left the Ellie Williams speechless.

The longer the night went on the more her mind drifted to you. Her mission of finding someone to fuck ended as soon as you came into the picture.

She wanted you. She was on a mission to find you. But between all the people grinding up against each other she thought that would be impossible.

"Hey there loser" she heard your voice she immediately turned to you.

"h-hey" did she just fucking stutter?

"Did you find someone to fuck yet?" you asked she shook her head.

"Maybe we can..." Ellie went silent, too shy to finish her sentence.

She made two scissors with her hands and she made a scissoring motion "you k-know.... me and you"

You laugh at her. You fucking laugh at her.

"Don't be pathetic, use your words"

Ellie felt humiliated. Why were you telling her what to do? Normally she was the one giving orders. Ellie decided that its time to switch roles. She wanted to be in charge.

"Well lets go to the bathroom and ill show you what i can do"

"so you're saying im some kind of cheap fuck?"

"N-no i mean... i meant like-"

"see fucking pathetic"

Ellie was sweating, her cheeks were tinted in a dark shade of pink.

What were you doing to her?

You gently took her hand "show me where your dorm is" was all you said.

The rest was a blur to her.

Lips passionately touching each other, clothes flying off, your fingers in her. A tiny rose tattoo on your left shoulder. She's never cum so hard in her life.

After tonight she knew you fucked her over.

No one had made her this nervous, no one has ever made her finish this hard, no one had ever made her this submissive.

Who are you?

Ellie groaned when she heard her alarm go off. She rolled over to the side of the bed you were laying on, but you weren't there.

She opened her eyes to a cold empty bed.

"Fuck" she sighed.

She never got your name, she doesn't have your number, she doesn't know anything about you.

The memory of you on top of her, you moaning was all she could think about.

Fuck, how she just forget that? How could she forget you?

The only thing she remembered was the rose tattoo on your left shoulder.

"Fuck rose who are you?"

<3

ok ok but band!Ellie x reader based on Brooklyn baby by Lana del Rey…

hi anon! this app hates me and I really struggled posting this. I had to post your fic separately!

here it is

I hope you enjoy<3

Ellie Williams x BPD! Reader please 🙏

Split Edges - ellie williams x reader

hi anon! i hope you enjoy:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts

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

Summary: in which you needed help

masterlist

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

I’m sorry I can’t tell what’s real.

I just don’t want to lose you.”

Ellie met you when she was at her worst.

And you?

You were a wildfire in human skin.

Charming one second. Distant the next.

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

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

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

But as someone worth loving. That scared her.

But not as much as how fast she fell.

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

It’s not drama—it’s devotion.

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

But the fear was always there.

She could leave.

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

But no one can be perfect forever.

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

Your stomach dropped.

Your heart snapped.

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

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

“No,” you snapped. “I saw you.”

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

Ellie didn’t leave.

But she didn’t touch you either.

And that’s when you knew:

She was starting to fear you.

And that made you hate yourself.

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

But Ellie noticed the new scar.

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

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

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

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

That shut you up.

Because maybe she was right.

So you made her a promise: you’d try.

You’d get better.

For her.

And for a while, you did.

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

Ellie let her walls down again.

And things were good. Too good.

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

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

Alive. Shaking. Pale.

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

You blinked. “What?”

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

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

Dina stared at you.

Ellie had lied.

Not about you.

About Dina.

Because while Ellie had been healing you…

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

You confronted her that night.

“You said she was gone.”

Ellie sat still, jaw clenched.

“She was. I thought she was—”

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

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

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

And just like that, the switch flipped.

You were done.

You disappeared the next morning. Vanished into the woods.

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

But she never found you.

Because you didn’t want to be found.

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

A recording.

Your voice. Calm. Unstable. Honest.

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

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

It’s because you finally let go.

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.”

Headcannons: ceo!abby anderson x fem!reader

masterlist

☆ Abby is the kind of CEO who commands a room the moment she walks in. Tailored suits, sharp jawline, low voice that cuts through the noise. People either fear her or fall in love with her—there’s no in-between.

☆ She didn’t inherit the company; she built her reputation through blood, sweat, and an iron will. Everyone knows the rumors: military background, strategic acquisitions, never smiles unless she’s already won.

☆ In meetings, she’s precise, no-nonsense. Employees scramble to meet deadlines because the idea of disappointing her is terrifying—but deep down, they respect her. She’s fair. She rewards loyalty, effort, and genius when she sees it.

☆ You work in one of the departments she rarely pays attention to—PR, internal communications, or perhaps you're an executive assistant brought in as a temp to cover someone’s maternity leave.

☆ She notices you because you’re not intimidated by her. You’re polite but blunt, you don’t fawn over her like others do. And when she gives you a task, you complete it perfectly—without needing a follow-up.

☆ The first time she really looks at you is when you correct a minor detail in one of her public statements. She stares at you for a beat too long, then nods. That’s when it all started.

☆ Abby is all control—she’s used to people submitting, obeying. But you? You don’t give her that satisfaction easily. It drives her insane and fascinates her at the same time.

☆ She tries to keep it professional, but her restraint cracks. She starts showing up near your desk more often than necessary, asking for “updates” she could have emailed about.

☆ You make her feel off-balance, and Abby hates being off-balance—but she keeps coming back for it.

☆ When the relationship starts, it’s secret. Very secret. Her rules: no one knows, no workplace displays, and absolutely no compromising your career because of her.

☆ But it doesn’t take long before those lines blur. She touches your wrist in meetings. She defends you publicly. She gets jealous when other execs talk to you.

☆ Abby’s bedroom persona is different—still dominant, but reverent. Like she’s worshipping something she doesn’t think she deserves.

☆ She tries to be gentle, but her hands are rough, and her need is overwhelming. She’ll press you into soft sheets in her penthouse, hair loose, voice husky as she murmurs your name like a prayer.

☆ Aftercare is where her walls drop: she wraps you in her arms, kisses your forehead, brushes your hair back. She doesn’t say much, but the way she holds you says it all.

☆ You’re the only person who’s seen Abby cry. It happened once after a brutal boardroom betrayal. You found her sitting alone in her office at 1AM, hands shaking, eyes red. She didn’t send you away.

☆ She doesn’t let anyone touch her unless she initiates—except you. If you brush your hand over hers during a bad day, she visibly relaxes. No one else has that power.

☆ She trusts you with her past. Military trauma, the father she lost, the fear of turning into a machine. You’re her anchor.

☆ Abby doesn’t get petty jealous—but if someone flirts with you at a company party, she’s by your side in seconds. Hand on your lower back, icy stare, soft command in your ear: “Come with me.”

☆ If you’re ever hurt, dismissed, or undermined at work, Abby becomes an unstoppable force. “They don’t work here anymore,” she’ll say flatly, her protectiveness quiet and lethal.

☆ Sends you flowers “anonymously” that somehow end up in the executive suite with your name on them.

☆ Leaves sticky notes on your monitor with short notes: “You killed it today.” “Dinner tonight, 8PM.” “Proud of you.”

☆ Hires a private chef for your birthday but insists on cooking breakfast herself the next morning in nothing but a shirt and boxers.

☆ Keeps a framed candid photo of you in her locked drawer. You don’t know about it, but she looks at it on the hardest days.

☆ Eventually, you’re not a secret anymore. Abby makes it public in her own way: attending a gala with you on her arm, no apology in her eyes.

☆ She promotes you—not because of your relationship, but because you’re damn good at what you do. She makes sure no one can question your worth.

☆ Talks about retirement one day. Not to quit, but to slow down. “Maybe we’ll move somewhere quieter,” she murmurs against your neck. “Somewhere with a garden.”

☆ You knew Abby loved her diary. She wrote everything in there, every emotion, every high and every low. You were never allowed to read it, until one day you were alone in her room you decided to take a peek:

January 3rd

11:47 PM – Office

I saw her again today.

Same desk. Same quiet smile. Same nerve to look me dead in the eye without flinching.

I shouldn’t notice. I shouldn’t care.

But I do. And it’s starting to piss me off.

-

February 9th

1:15 AM – Penthouse

She corrected me. In front of the team.

Tactfully. Respectfully. But it was still a correction.

And god, it turned me on.

What the hell is wrong with me?

-

March 2nd

10:06 PM – Gym Locker Room

She wore her hair up today. It pulled her features tighter, more severe. And yet, all I wanted to do was tug it loose and see her fall apart.

I made up a reason to call her into my office.

Five minutes of conversation about a report I didn’t read.

Her voice lingers longer than it should.

-

March 16th

12:22 AM – Office (again)

I touched her hand today.

Not by accident. Not in passing.

I could feel the pulse in her wrist—fast, unsure.

She didn’t pull away.

Neither did I.

I’m crossing lines now. I know it.

I don’t want to stop.

-

April 4th

2:02 AM – Bedroom

She kissed me first.

That’s what I’ll tell myself, even if I know it’s a lie.

We were in the elevator, alone. I leaned in. Maybe too close. She looked at me like she’d already forgiven the mistake I hadn’t made yet.

I kissed her like I hadn’t wanted anything else in years.

And she kissed me back.

I’m fucked.

-

April 22nd

3:35 AM – After she fell asleep

She sleeps like she trusts me.

That should terrify me.

Instead, I’m scared of how badly I want to earn it.

-

May 11th

11:11 PM – Office

Saw her laughing with one of the interns. I hated how it made me feel.

Possessive. Petty. Animal.

I smiled when she glanced over, but I wanted to drag her away and remind her who she belongs to.

No. Not "belongs."

That’s not right. She’s not mine.

But I’m hers.

And I don’t think she even knows it.

-

May 27th

9:49 PM – Her Apartment

She made dinner. It was bad. I ate every bite.

She looked so proud.

When she leaned over to kiss me, all I could think was: I’ve gone soft.

Then she whispered she loves me.

And just like that, I broke.

-

June 5th

Midnight – Private Jet

I’m bringing her to the gala. Publicly. No more secrets.

Let them talk. Let them guess.

She’s not a scandal.

She’s the only real thing I have.

-

July 1st

10:10 PM – Lake House (weekend getaway)

She made me promise I’d rest.

No emails. No meetings.

She’s outside reading a book right now. Feet in the water. Hair wind-blown.

I’m watching her through the window.

And for the first time in a long time, I feel... free.

Maybe love isn’t a weakness.

Maybe it’s the only reason I’ve survived this long.