Omg I Love How Possessive You Made Dina It Should Be The Norm

Hi okay so hear me out , fem reader x mean Ellie, so the reader feels insecure about her looks and ellie seems tired of it and straps the reader in front of the mirror to prove how pretty the reader is , making the reader look at theirself and mean Ellie slaps the reader if they ever disagrees or look away

Pretty girl - (ellie williams x reader)

Hi anon, fuck yes this is fr Ellie coded. And also just a warning I suck with writing smut so i'm sorry if it's bad.... i hope you enjoy

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

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

warnings: 18+ MDI, slapping, strap usage (r receiving), insecurities, kinda mean ellie, mirrior sex

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

authors note: ugh it feels so good to be back, i have 12 drafts so be ready yall and also new gore fics coming soon because... live laugh love gore

masterlist

"take it" she said through gritted teeth as you felt her pound into you.

"I'm sorry" you cried through broken sobs.

You knew it was your fault. You knew you were the one that yourself into this position.

You and Ellie sat on the couch earlier that day, it was peaceful, the two of you silently sitting together.

A tiktok video landed on your fyp and you couldn't help but rewatch it over and over again.

She was so fucking pretty. She was everything you weren't.

It made you sick to your stomach.

Your gaze fell to Ellie as you imagined her with this girl. They'd make such a good couple, like those couples they put on the front page of magazines.

You wondered what Ellie thought when she saw girls like these on her fyp.

Does she wish you were someone different?

"Baby?" You felt her cold hand on your thigh, as she gave you light squeeze.

"Are you ok? You've been watching the same video over and over again" She asked with concern.

"Yeah" you replied hesitantly.

"I was just thinking"

"thinking of?"

You let out a sigh as you turned away from Ellie, you felt embarrassed to admit this.

"Well she's so... she's so pretty" you started.

You gave your phone to Ellie and you watched as she looked at the girl.

"I'm not that pretty, and I wish I looked like that honestly"

"what did you just say?"

You weren't supposed to answer her question. You weren't supposed to say anything.

But you did.

You fucking answered her.

"I wish I was as pretty as her" you said softly, you felt her eyes burning holes into the side of your face.

You missed the way Ellies jaw ticked, you missed the way the frown deepened on her face, you missed the way her eye twitched.

The girl she loved the most was insulting herself and it broke Ellie's heart.

She wished you saw yourself the way she saw you.

The only thing she could do was to show her girl how pretty she fucking was.

Now here you were, on your knees in front of Ellie's massive mirror.

The rug on the floor was burning into the palms of your hands and knees, tears were streaming down your face, and drool fell from your lips. Your ass stung and your cheeks were red from where Ellie slapped you repeatedly.

She wad ruthless with her pace, not giving you time to think.

She was fucking you stupid.

"C'mon baby" she said out of breath

"tell me how fucking pretty you are" she pinched your nipple and you let out a squeal

"Ellie please"

you felt her hand harshly hit your cheek, you moaned at the stinging feeling it left behind.

"i said tell me how fucking pretty you are" she repeated herself.

She was getting impatient. You could feel it in her pace.

"I'm pretty" another slap fell onto your cheek

"I didn't hear you"

her thrusts got harder. faster.

god you felt her in your stomach.

"im pretty!" You repeated louder.

"Now look at yourself in the mirror when you say it"

you slowly looked up into the mirror taking in your appearance.

You looked fucked.

You looked up at Ellie and there was a proud smirk on her face as she looked at where you and her strap were connected.

"Talk baby, or you won't cum" she said before slowing down .

You let out a scream of frustration, and she giggled.

She fucking giggled.

"please- I'll say it, but please don't stop" you begged.

A fresh coat of tears covered your face.

You were fucking pathetic.

Ellie picked up her pace and you moaned with relief.

"talk" was all she said.

You made eye contact with yourself in the mirror, your mouth fell open, and your eyes rolled to the back of your yeah.

She made you feel so fucking good.

"I'm the- the p-prettiest girl alive"

"that's my fucking girl"

She sped up, you weren't sure how she managed to, but she did. Her fingers roughly met your clit and you moaned at her touch.

You felt something build in your lower stomach. You were so fucking close.

"Ellie" you whimpered

"I know pretty girl, it feels good... c'mon let it out" she spoke to you so gently, like you were the most fragile thing ever.

But in reality she was fucking you senseless, but you loved every fucking second of it. She rubbed your clit for a few more seconds before you felt something snap inside of you.

You moaned loudly, and your body started shaking.

"there you go... my pretty girl" Ellie muttered on top of you as you came down from your high.

You both were breathing heavily, and you made eye contact with your girl through the mirror.

"Hi" you said with a shy smile. All Ellie did was smile back before you felt her move her cock at a steady rhythm once again.

"Ellie" you said softly, as you hissed at the feeling still sensitive from your last orgasm.

"I wasn't done with you, we still have a lot to learn.." she spoke as she thrusted into once again

"now look yourself in the mirror and repeat after me... 'I am the prettiest girl alive"

wait I’m so curious to the angst fic you wrote to in my feelings - ldr :0 cuz I would’ve never interpret it into an angst fic! Do you think you can publish that one too? No pressure! 💕

In my feelings - (ellie williams x reader)

Hi anon, here she is! I hope you enjoy <3

This story is based off the song in my feelings by Lana Del Rey, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:) This was originally a smut fic. You can read it here, but this wonder anon requested a angst edition, so yes.

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are always open, feel free to leave one:)

Warnings: toxic situationship

Summary: In which you fell for a loser

Authors note: i know I've not been that active and I'm so sorry. Life has just been busy, i have to write exams, i have a surgery on Thursday so it's been tense lmao, but I'm trying. Please be patient with me <3

I'm smoking while I'm runnin' on my treadmill

But I'm cutting up roses

Could it be that I fell for another loser

I'm crying while I'm cummin'

Making love while I'm making good money

Sobbin' in my cup of coffee

'Cause I fell for another loser

"Could it be that I fell for another loser?" You asked Dina as the cigarette smoke left your plush lips.

You heard Dina snort beside you.

"probably, she looks like she could be one, and she treats you like shit" she shrugged"

you shook your head at her honesty.

It's embarrassing honestly. You truly did have a type for losers.

People who couldn't make eye contact with you. People who would fold as soon as you gave them your pretty smile. You had the control, but yet anything you had with these people weren't real love. It was purely lust. It was fun.

You liked being in control, you liked breaking them.

But with Ellie it was different.

You met Ellie at a gym.

She caught you eye immediately. She was perfect. Her autumn brown hair tied in a tight ponytail, she was wearing pink leggings with a matching sports bra. The sweat on her forehead glistening under the light of the gym.

If god was real this pretty girl would be in your bed by the end of the night

You ran on the treadmill for a while, trying to ignore the pretty girls eyes. You saw her watching you though the mirror. You felt her eyes trail down your body.

Maybe she wanted you like you wanted her.

After a while you tried leaving the gym, you lit a cigarette as you walked out, your bag hung on your shoulder.

"Hi"

you flinched at the strange voice.

Oh. It was her.

Pink tight girl.

"Hey" you responded.

You saw her gaze fall to the floor as she shyly muttered "I'm Ellie"

What a fucking loser. She couldn't even look at you.

You loved her already.

You gave her your name, and you listened as it fell from her tongue multiple time. She was testing the was your name tasted on her tongue and she loved it.

"Those are bad for you" she pointed out you shrugged

"it makes me look hot, doesn't it?" Was all you said as you took another puff, throwing your head back as the smoke filled the air.

You felt her eyes on you, and you heard her audibly gulp.

"Doesn't it Ellie?" you persisted

"yeah- yeah it does"

you gave her a smile, and before you waved goodbye she handed you a paper. With a raised eyebrow you opened it and in a messy handwriting was her number.

You looked at her and she looked away, she couldn't make eye contact with you.

All you could do was smirk, they were always so fucking easy to make nervous.

"I'll call you" you winked.

Now here you stood 5 weeks later, sobbing into a cup of coffee because you fell for a fucking loser.

Get that cigarette smoke out of my face

You've been wasting my time

While you're taking what's mine, with the things that you're doing

Talk that talk, well now they all know your name

And there's no coming back from the place that you came

Baby don't do it

you don't know what happened with Ellie.

The girl you called a loser once, the girl who fell to her knees when you smiled is suddenly a cold hearted person.

"Get that cigarette smoke out of my face" Ellie huffed as she sat across you.

You rolled your eyes before you put the cigarette out.

"Ellie calm down so we can talk"

"talk about what? You're wasting my time with this"

your jaw dropped at her words.

'What a fucking bitch' you thought to yourself.

"I'm wasting your fucking time? Ellie don't make me mad because I will fucking slap you"

she looked taken aback at your harsh words, her cheeks tined in a pink color.

Her eyes fell to the floor, and for a second you saw her.

Your Ellie.

The loser you fell for.

But she suddenly got up muttering "I will not be disrespected by someone like you", and she walked out of your apartment. The door slammed and you were left alone.

The silence was so loud.

There was no coming back from this.

The more time you spent with Ellie, the more you discovered about her. She used to be so sweet.

You remembered your first date, she couldn't even hold your hand and she constantly apologized for everything.

She was a fucking loser.

But one day someone said that Ellie was out of your league. You knew she was. Some like Ellie deserved someone better, but yet you thought she fell for you.

That day changed everything. Ellie's eyes widened at the person's comment and she was quieter than usual that day.

The next time you saw her, she was a whole new person. Her entire persona changed. Her hair, makeup, style, even the way she fucking walked changed.

You were happy that she had confidence, but you found out she was seeing other people behind your back.

Despite never being official it hurt.

You knew Ellie could talk to whoever she wanted to, but you thought you had something special.

One night when Ellie was sleeping over, you asked her the question.

"What are we?"

she never replied.

Every fucking time you brought it up, she always walked away.

What a fucking loser. What a fucking pussy.

Even today, you invited her over to talk. To see if she liked you. You needed closure because truthfully you fell for the autumn brown headed girl.

You just had to make sure.

And to hear her say that you were wasting her time was fucking sick.

She was wasting yours with her games.

And here you thought you had actually met a loser worth your time.

'Cause you got me in my feelings (catch you, it's so much right now)

Talking in my sleep again (you can whistle if you want)

Drown out all our screaming (catch you, it's so much right now)

Who's tougher than this bitch

Who's free-er than me

You wanna make the switch

Be my guest baby

I'm feeling all my fucking feelings

you wish you could sleep right now. You were tired, and you didn't have any energy for bullshit.

Ellie's rant had begun after she spotted you and Dina getting lunch earlier.

Wow so you can't breathe the air of another girl but she can fuck someone else? That's wonderful logic!

But you sat here listening to Ellie yelling at you for some reason.

You wish you could drown put her screaming.

"Ellie can you just shut the fuck up!" you yelled.

You had enough of her mixed signals. You had enough of her practically cheating on you. You were tired.

"How dare you talk to me like that-" but before Ellie could end up yelling again you got up, pushing her against the wall.

"How dare I? How dare you! You fucking lead me on for weeks, then you freak out when I hang out with another girl! Ellie you are really fucking stupid" you said though heavy breathes.

Ellie stared at you with wide eyes.

There she is.

The girl you thought you had a chance with.

You took a step back, shaking your head and chuckling.

"You really are a fucking loser, how could I fall for someone like you?" You asked yourself.

Ellie heard.

She got up walking to you, she placed her hands on your shoulders "i-i like you. A lot. I just didn't know how to express myself- and- you made me so nervous so I thought I could make you j-jealous"

you shrugged her hands off your shoulders and you took another step back.

"That's not how relationships work Ellie, you ruined this yourself"

"Please listen-"

"get the fuck out"

Ellie sighed before she got up. She was on her way to the door, and she looked back at you for the last time.

"smoking is bad for you" she said with a sad smile.

You chucked at her words before responding "it makes me look hot doesn't it?"

"It really does"

you watched as Ellie walk out the door, you lit another cigarette.

As the smoke filled the air, like it has countless times before. you let out a sigh at the realization: you fell in love with another loser.

oh my gad who dat pretty in ur pfp

I DONT KNOW

I found her on pintrest lmao, I'm looking for her Instagram but I can't find her😭💔

requesting a smut fic with reader x loser!ellie based on in my feelings by Lana del Rey!! And the song being from readers pov

In my feelings - (loser!ellie williams x reader)

hi anon! firstly this is my first time writing smut, so I'm sorry if it sucks lmao:) and also Lana Del Rey fucking slaps, I hope you enjoy<3

This story is based off the song in my feelings by Lana Del Rey, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

(I had to rewrite this twice because every time I wrote it according to the lyrics I always ended up with a angst fic, so this is just a smut piece. There are references to the song in the story.)

Pairing- loser!ellie x fem!reader

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

Warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), porn no plot, inexperienced Ellie, cigarettes, sex, domish reader, this sucks, lmk if I missed anything!

Summary: In which you showed a loser, a great time

You brought the cigarette to your lips as you inhaled the smoke, your head rolled back as you blew it out from your lips.

You looked up and saw Ellie staring at you like a lost puppy.

"Have you ever done this before?" you asked her as you took another puff from your cigarette.

You watched as she shyly looked to the ground.

"Open your mouth and answer me Ellie" you demanded enjoying how easily you could make her nervous.

"n-no ma'am" she stuttered.

You chucked as you put out your cigarette on the ash tray beside you. Ellie watched your fingers as you lowered the cigarette, how delicate they looked, she wondered what they would feel like.

Ellie was snapped from her thoughts when she heard your voice.

"Come here"

You watched as she blinked a couple of times.

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

"no sorry" she mumbled and she made made her away towards you.

"Crawl"

"what?" Ellie looked at you with wide eyes.

She looked so fucking innocent. So pure. It turned you on so much knowing that you had the ability to destroy her.

"Get on the floor and crawl to me"

You sat back on the couch, you slightly opened your legs revealing the pink lace underwear you wore underneath your skirt.

"I can see your underwear" Ellie pointed out. She was trying to be respectful, but she couldn't take her eyes away from your clothed cunt.

"do you like it?" you asked.

A pink shade appeared on her cheeks as she looked down to her shoes. She let out a hum of agreement.

Yeah she did like it.

She wanted to see more.

"Come on Ellie get on your knees"

You watched as she fell to her knees, crawling to you like a dog. A smile appeared on your face as you watched the mighty Ellie Williams crawl towards you.

No one else but you.

Ellie sat directly in front of you staring at your pretty face waiting for her next instruction.

You opened up your legs, your lace panties practically see through at this point from how wet you were. You heard Ellie whimper as the sight.

"So pretty" she mumbled.

"wait till you see what's underneath" You spoke with a grin.

"Touch me Ellie"

Her hands immediately went to your underwear. She gently started rubbing you through your underwear.

Ellie watched as the damp spot on your underwear grow, and she felt her own arousal, her panties were so fucking wet and her thighs were slick with her own arousal.

You let out a soft moan as you felt her rub soft, slow and gentle circles. She leaned forward to leave a soft kiss on the clothed area.

Your body shuddered at the feeling.

Ellie started slowly making out with your clothed cunt, she just wanted a taste, but the stupid piece of fabric was in her way, it wasn't only making Ellie mad it was frustrating you too.

It was good but it wasn't enough to make you cum.

"Get up"

"what?" Ellie asked confused.

"Just get up"

She stood up in an instant watching you grab your phone.

You played in my feelings by Lana Del Rey as you lit another cigarette. You took another puff before slowly swaying your hips to the music.

"I'm smoking while I'm runnin' on my treadmill

But I'm cutting up roses

Could it be that I fell for another loser"

you sang as you continued to breathe in the smoke. You slowly started stripping, removing your shit, you briefly made eye contact with Ellie before her eyes fell to your chest.

You were wearing a matching pink lace bra, and Ellie felt herself dripping.

You slowly put the cigarette between your lips as you unclasped your bra. The piece of fabric fell to the floor as you heard Ellie out a quite "woah" at the sight of your chest.

Your hands came up to your chest as you took your breast into your palm, you slowly moved your hand up pinching your nipples, your head flew back the sensation.

You let out a moan, as you felt the buds harden under your touch.

Your hips continued to sway as you looked at Ellie and you pulled your skirt and panties off. You bent down, putting out the cigarette as you picked up your panties and you threw it towards her.

Ellie desperately caught it, bringing it to her nose. She breathed in the scent of your juices and she let out a loud moan. You watched as her eyes rolled to the back of her head before she stuffed your panties into her pocket.

"Please- please let me touch you"

You almost moaned at the sound of her begging.

You slowly made your way to the couch as you bent over, raising your ass and cunt into the air.

Easy access

As you were bent over you quickly made the music louder to drown out the sound of what was about to happen.

You looked over your shoulders seeing Ellie stare at you in awe.

What a fucking loser.

You slightly shook your ass.

"Come on Ellie isn't this what you wanted?"

Ellie fell to her knees immediately crawling to you. She faced your cunt she watched your swollen pussy clench around nothing.

You slightly jumped forward with a shocked moan when you felt Ellie lick a long stripe your pussy. Ellie had her eyes closed as she let out a moan.

"So wet" she muttered. After a few seconds of silence and no movement you suddenly felt Ellie's fingers open you up and before you could say anything she inserted her tongue into you.

You let out a moan, and quickly you felt a coil tighten in your stomach.

"fuckkkk... just like that pretty girl" you breathed out in a long moan.

You heard Ellie moan from behind you, and it send vibrations to your cunt. Your mouth fell open at the sensation.

Ellie put two fingers into your cunt as she continued sucking your clit and attacking your sensitive pussy with her tongue.

"Fuck- you're such a fucking loser" Ellie heard you talk above her. "You- you can't even talk to me I public now- now you're e-eating me out like I'm your last meal"

Ellie let out a moan at your words and she felt herself clench, she was going to cum and you didn't even touch her, how pathetic.

Ellie hit that special spot and you let out a high pitched moan.

"Right there baby, please don't stop"

Ellie fingers sped up, her sucking became harsher, and your moans grew louder.

You were close.

You clenched around Ellie's fingers, and she let out a loud moan. The vibrations triggered your orgasm.

You saw white and your whole body felt numb. You didn't feel real, it felt like you were floating- no flying actually. You felt so fucking good.

With heavy breathes, you opened your eyes and you breathed out a quick good girl to Ellie.

You turned around to face her as she lay on the floor, her eyes were closed but she had a huge smile on her face.

"Did you just come?" You asked Ellie as you heavily breathed.

You watched as she opened her eyes and she started at you for a few seconds.

"No"

"are you lying to me Ellie?"

"yeah... that was the hardest I ever came" she admitted.

"Aw poor baby, I didn't didn't touch her and she soaked her panties" you teased.

All Ellie did was look away shyly.

She anxiously played with her fingers. She wanted to ask you something. But she was so fucking terrified.

Maybe she was a fucking loser.

"Can we go again? Ellie asked, looking at you with a fucked out expression. Her lips were slightly swollen and glossy with her saliva and your cum.

Still heavily breathing you gave Ellie a smile.

"let me get a taste of you too pretty girl"

Authors note: well this sucked, I've never written smut and I'm so scared to publish it lmao, also two posts in one day???? wow I'm on another lever. Remember you are loved and to always be kind.

Yours truly,

Zia:)

Can you maybe do post man Abby with Mrs.postman- Black pumas

Mrs. Postman - (abby anderson x reader)

Hi anon! this was so weird to write because where I'm from we don't have people who deliver our mail, but i hope i did you justice. I hope you enjoy:)

This story is based off the song Mrs. Postman by Black Pumas, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: post man!abby x fem!reader

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

warnings: none

Summary: in which you fell for the post lady

authors note: first abby fic that isn't hcs??? let's fucking go dude. My second post for the day, I'm blessing yall before I leave till god knows when lmao.

Every tomorrow brings sunshine in my neighborhood since you've been in it

Oh-oh, here comes Mrs. Postman

She's thicker than blue blood and a message from her spirits, high descendant

Oh-oh, it's Mrs. Postman

This commonality won't let her be fooled by low conditions

Oh-oh, says Mrs. Postman

Your love reside in me but other feathers seem to flock together

Oh-oh, Mrs. Postman

You hated this stupid fucking city.

You don't even know why you moved here in the first place. It was fucking hot. Everything was expensive. You hated this place so much.

The Jackson sun was high in the sky, as you stood at the window drinking your morning tea.

You had moved in a couple of weeks ago, and today was finally the day you would be able to get your mail.

You finally heard the knock at the door, and with excitement you ran towards it. You almost tripped but no one needs to know that.

As you opened the door, you thought you stood in front of a god.

Her blonde hair, was pulled back in a tight braid, she was staring at you with her beautiful eyes, and her smile was just fucking perfect. Her uniform sat tight against her skin, showing her body is just the right places.

Holy shit.

Postman or Postwoman? You don't even what to call her.

"Hi, I'm Abby! You must be new" she said with a bright smile.

Now you knew why everyone is Jackson was always so happy in the morning, their fucking postman was a ray of sunshine.

"Yeah I am" you said with a small smile, opening up your hand to take the package from her hands.

"Have a good day ma'am" Abby said, before she walked away.

Maybe Jackson wasn't that bad after all.

If you want it

Go and get it, you can have it Mrs. Postman

That's alright

Can we spark it? Effervescence, let the flame burn Mrs. Postman

Right on

When it rains just know that every little thing is alright

All the same, I know that everything will be right on time

as the weeks went by, you realized that Jackson wasn't such a bad place.

The people were nice, it was a safe area. The Postlady is really hot. Things were looking up.

You found yourself waking up earlier in the morning, just to make yourself look prettier. You would sweep your front porch daily, to make sure that Abby would come to a clean place. You found yourself baking cookies, and giving it to her every morning.

What was happening to you?

Even when you didn't have any mail, Abby always made a turn at your place. Her visits always made you feel special.

The days Abby didn't come, you always felt the lack of her presence. She'd become a part of you routine. She's become a part of you.

Over time you learned small facts about the blonde.

Her dad was a surgeon, she had one dog, her favorite color is blue, she works 5 days a week, and she's trying to get into college.

You could say the two of you had established a friendship.

You saw whatever you had as more than that. You guys weren't a friendship in your eyes. You felt that there was more.

Your crush on Abby grew by the second, every interaction, every smile and giggle she let out had an effect on you.

god you were down bad for your fucking Postwoman.

Today was like no other.

You woke up, took a showers and you put on brand new blue sundress you bought to hope fully catch Abby's eye.

You sat in your living room, staring at the clock, counting down the seconds of Abby's arrival.

You heard a knock at your door, and you jumped up, cleaning your throat as you walked towards the door. You took a deep breath as you opened the door and you were met with Abby's smiling face.

You saw her eyes wonder down your body as she looked at your outfit.

She thought you looked fucking beautiful.

"Hi Abby" you muttered shyly.

Your eyes met as, and you felt a spark.

"Hi" Abby smiled.

"Do I have mail?" you asked.

"Yeah a letter" Abby handed it to you.

You thanked her and the two of you stood there for a while.

"Aren't you supposed to go Abby?" You asked unsure of why she still stood there.

"Open it"

with a raised eyebrow you opened the letter.

The page was complete white, but in the middle of the page there was some words written in black ink.

Will you go on a date with me?

From your favorite postwoman

Abby <3

You looked up at her with eyes wide, and she awkwardly brought her hand up to scratch the back of her neck.

"So?" She asked unsure.

She looked terrified.

"Fuck yes" You breathed before you leaped forward bringing her in for a hug. You gave her a kiss on a cheek as you pulled away, her face was red.

You made her so fucking nervous.

"Can we go out tonight?" Abby looked at you with a hopeful smile.

"See you tonight ms postman"

ellie with gf reader who speaks another language and gets flustered and cute when she starts talking in her language and gets all shy when reader calls her pet names in her language??

Headcannons: simp!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

authors note: I speak 4 languages. Hebrew, English, Afrikaans and Portuguese. I also understand some Zulu and Xhosa. My natural instinct was to write something in one of these languages but i stopped myself lmao.

It's up to the reader to decide what language you talk!! I kept it as neutral as possible:)

part 2

☆ You speak your native language casually around Ellie without realizing it sometimes—and she just melts when you do.

☆ Ellie doesn’t understand everything, but she definitely knows when you're talking about her—she can tell by your smirk.

☆ She gets caught off guard the first time you call her a pet name in your language. “What did you just say?” she asks, blushing immediately.

☆ You tease her by refusing to translate unless she kisses you.

☆ Ellie starts noticing patterns—tones, facial cues, soft inflections—and slowly deciphers your “love” voice.

☆ She begs you to teach her basic phrases but forgets them constantly—except the ones you say while kissing her.

☆ She looks up your language when you’re not around, trying to memorize the pet names you use for her.

☆ Ellie turns bright red every time she hears you whisper anything in your language, even if it’s innocent.

☆ You once called her “my heart” in your native tongue, and she couldn’t stop smiling for hours.

☆ Ellie pretends she’s cool about it but literally rewinds voice messages to hear you say that one phrase again.

☆ The first time you call her something like “amor” or “ma vie”, she chokes on her drink.

☆ If you ever use a diminutive, like a cute baby-talk form of her name, Ellie completely shuts down. Brain short-circuited.

☆ You whisper a sultry nickname into her ear at a party, and she instantly goes quiet and red-faced.

☆ Ellie doesn’t even ask what it means anymore—just tugs you closer and hides her face in your shoulder.

☆ You say “good morning, beautiful” in your language while half-asleep, and she genuinely forgets how to form a sentence.

☆ Ellie’s weak spot? When you say “my girl” in your language, then kiss her temple.

☆ If you say it while laughing? Game over. She’s gone. Putty.

☆ The moment you use a nickname in public, Ellie goes wide-eyed and blushes to her ears.

☆ You once casually said it over the phone, and Jesse teased her for hours because she started stammering and pacing.

☆ If you say a pet name mid-argument? Instant truce. Ellie’s too dazed to keep fighting.

☆ She downloads Duolingo after one flirty nickname and keeps streaks religiously.

☆ Ellie practices saying your name with your accent in the mirror when you’re not home.

☆ She asks you for pet names she can call you—and fumbles the pronunciation every time.

☆ Once, she accidentally said a dirty word instead of “baby” and you laughed so hard she didn’t recover for ten minutes.

☆ She writes your pet names in her sketchbook like they’re little poems.

☆ Ellie watches foreign films in your language just to “get used to the sounds.”

☆ She points to things and says the name of them in your language—like a toddler learning to speak.

☆ Ellie practices rolling her R’s or changing intonation for days until she gets it right—just to impress you.

☆ She gets super proud when she strings together even a basic sentence in your language.

☆ When she finally says a pet name correctly, she looks to you for praise like a golden retriever.

☆ You switch into your language when you’re half-asleep, and Ellie answers anyway, as if she understands.

☆ You label things around the apartment in both languages. Ellie uses it to quiz herself.

☆ She secretly renames contacts in your phone to match their names in your language.

☆ When you’re sick, she murmurs the few phrases she knows—“rest,” “I got you,” “love you”—with clumsy pronunciation and pure heart.

☆ Ellie talks to your pets in your language, like “come here, little one” with the worst accent imaginable.

☆ She types “how do I say ‘I miss you’ in [language]” into Google when you’re gone for a few days.

☆ Ellie loves when you get frustrated in your language—it’s passionate and raw and reminds her how brilliant you are.

☆ She keeps your texts and rereads the ones in your language even if she only knows what half of them mean.

☆ You playfully insult her in your language and she still blushes like you just proposed.

☆ If you're mad and speak fully in your language, Ellie just sits there and takes it because she lowkey loves hearing it.

☆ You surprise her in the morning with a kiss and a softly spoken pet name—she covers her face with a pillow.

☆ You once called her “my love” in public and she had to physically walk away for a second to cool off.

☆ You say “mine” in your native tongue while gripping her waist and Ellie’s knees go weak.

☆ Whisper something in your language against her neck, and Ellie just melts into a puddle of incoherent affection.

☆ You say a pet name right before she’s about to leave for work—she ends up forgetting her keys, phone, and dignity.

☆ When you introduce her to friends or family and call her something sweet in your language, she stiffens up like a statue—then blushes for an hour.

☆ If you ever use a nickname when you're annoyed (like sarcastically), it flusters her even more—"Don't make that cute when you're mad."

☆ The first time she overhears you talking about her on the phone and hears a flirty nickname, she’s just—done. Gone. Face in her hands.

☆ You once moaned a pet name during sex and Ellie physically froze for a moment, overwhelmed.

☆ She secretly records a video of you saying her favorite nickname and listens to it when she misses you.

☆ Ellie asks you to say it again when you call her something sweet mid-cuddle—then buries her face into your chest.

☆ She loves lying in bed while you softly murmur in your language against her skin.

☆ You write her a birthday card using both languages, and she tears up at the familiar pet name scribbled at the end.

☆ Ellie can’t stop smiling when you whisper something affectionate to her in your language after sex—it grounds her, makes her feel yours.

☆ She gets really flustered when you start talking dirty in your language but don’t translate.

☆ You once said a full love confession in your language while looking into her eyes—and she cried even without knowing every word.

☆ When you teach her how to say “I love you” properly, she holds onto it like a treasure.

☆ If she messes up the pronunciation of your name or a word, you kiss her anyway—and she gets all flustered and giddy.

☆ She tries to surprise you with a sentence she memorized from your language, but it’s jumbled and adorable.

☆ You once made her a playlist of love songs in your native tongue, and now she associates certain phrases with your voice and scent.

☆ Ellie gets super curious about how your culture uses language differently—like how tone or phrasing reflects love.

☆ When she meets your family or old friends and hears them use your pet name for her, she nearly short-circuits.

☆ You give her a nickname that’s untranslatable—a word that means more than English ever could—and she cherishes it quietly.

☆ Ellie doodles your pet name with little hearts next to it in her notebook when she’s bored in meetings.

☆ If you're upset and switch to your language because you're flustered, Ellie just hugs you and whispers, “Say it again... just like that.”

☆ She jokes about getting it tattooed on her somewhere secret—but she’s 100% serious.

☆ Ellie introduces you to people and says, “This is my girlfriend,” then adds the pet name under her breath with a dumb smile.

☆ You once wrote her a love letter in your language. She didn’t understand it until you translated—then she reread it every day for a week.

☆ Ellie has a contact name for you in her phone that’s just the pet name in your language. With a stupid amount of hearts.

☆ Years later, she still gets butterflies when you lean in and whisper her nickname—because it never stopped being magic to her.

ur acc esthetic is so yummy

PURRRRRR THANK YOU QUEEEEEEENNNN, i gotta make it pretty for all the pretty girls that follow me <3333333333333

i LOVE your headcanons of professor ellie 💗 could you write hcs of how ellie reacts to/feels about readers partying/drinking habits? since it’s college lololol tysm!!

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

☆ The relationship started slow—Ellie couldn’t help the way she stared a little too long when you answered in class, the way her voice softened only when calling your name.

☆ You were top of your class, confident but kind—and the fact that you had no idea how captivating you were made her want you more.

☆ Ellie told herself she’d keep it professional, but she crumbled the first time you stayed after class to ask about office hours and bit your lip nervously.

☆ One night, a study session in her office turned into brushing fingers… then grazing knees… then a kiss that shifted her entire world.

☆ You’re young, wild, and still living the typical campus life—going out with friends, drinking, wearing short dresses.

☆ At first, Ellie tries to be understanding—you’re just being normal, she tells herself.

☆ But every time you text her “going out tonight!” she feels her chest tighten.

☆ Her mind instantly conjures images of guys hitting on you, or worse—touching you.

☆ She’s already emotionally unwell just thinking about you drunk around people who don’t know you belong to her.

☆ She never says “don’t go”—instead, it’s “be safe” and “text me the second you get home.”

☆ You send her a mirror selfie before going out, and it ruins her entire night.

☆ “You look incredible,” she texts—but she’s chewing her cheek in rage, wondering who else will see you like that.

☆ She zooms in on the picture, analyzing every detail: your neckline, your expression, who might be in the reflection.

☆ If you don’t answer for longer than an hour, she spirals.

☆ She doesn’t sleep until you text her that you're back home safe.

☆ If you mention a guy buying you a drink, she shuts down—dry, short replies until you call her and soothe the ache.

☆ If you tell her someone flirted with you, she pretends to laugh—but she writes that guy’s name down in her mental burn book.

☆ One night you send her a blurry photo of your friends cheering shots. She doesn’t respond for an hour because she’s pacing in her apartment.

☆ If you flirt with her when drunk, she melts—but also scolds you after: “Don’t say that to me when you’re not in control.”

☆ She feels disgustingly possessive, and it makes her feel guilty—but not enough to stop.

☆ She wants to be better. She knows she shouldn’t control you.

☆ But the thought of someone else having your attention even for a second drives her into silent storms.

☆ She journals about it often—how hard it is to love someone you can’t touch in public.

☆ She knows if someone finds out, it’s over—for her career, your education, maybe even you.

☆ That fear claws at her every time you disappear into a crowd of drunk strangers.

☆ Ellie starts secretly tracking your phone—not because she doesn’t trust you, but because she doesn’t trust anyone else.

☆ She learns your friends’ names and subtly checks their socials for anything that could trace back to her.

☆ If she sees a tagged pic of you with too much skin or someone’s hand on your back, she gets nauseous.

☆ She once messaged you, “Please untag that. It’s too risky,” and you didn’t even question it.

☆ She keeps a hoodie of hers in your dorm room that she tells you to wear home if you’re ever walking late.

☆ She buys you pepper spray and teaches you how to use it “just in case.”

☆ She walks you through fake alibis—what to say if someone asks who you were texting, who picked you up, where you were last night.

☆ She memorizes your schedule so she can predict when you’ll be on campus—and how to avoid you in public, just in case.

☆ She deletes her messages from your phone every few days, but backs them up in a private drive—just for her.

☆ She creates an alternate email address for your personal conversations, completely off-campus.

☆ The first time you drunk-dial her, she doesn’t answer—she panics, lets it go to voicemail.

☆ She listens to the voicemail alone, heart racing as you slur out how much you love her.

☆ She saves the voicemail. Listens to it ten times. But deletes it the next morning because it’s too dangerous.

☆ The second time you drunk-text her gibberish, she replies with “Baby, are you safe? Who are you with? Where are you?”

☆ If you ever say “come get me,” she will. Even if it’s midnight. Even if it risks everything.

☆ She keeps a hoodie, water, and mints in the backseat of her car just in case you call.

☆ The first time you cry after partying—someone being too aggressive, getting sick—Ellie holds you in her apartment and swears you’ll never go out again.

☆ After a party, you sneak into her place and she undresses you gently, muttering, “You’re killing me.”

☆ She always washes your makeup off and gives you oversized sweats to sleep in.

☆ She whispers, “Mine,” into your hair when you’re too tipsy to remember.

☆ She holds your face and says, “No more guys buying you drinks. Let me take care of you.”

☆ She leaves bruises where no one can see—under your clothes, on your thighs, between your ribs—so you remember who owns you.

☆ Ellie sometimes skips dinner just because she’s anxious you’re out without her.

☆ She watches stories obsessively—knows who you're with, what bar you’re at, what time the music changes.

☆ If a guy posts you even in the background of his story, she takes screenshots and studies it.

☆ She’s thought about showing up undercover, just to watch. Just to make sure you’re safe.

☆ She keeps your location pulled up during her late-night grading sessions, constantly checking if you’ve gotten home.

☆ She keeps a playlist called “when she’s out drinking”—half love songs, half rage anthems.

☆ Eventually, she starts subtly encouraging you to stay in. “I miss you. Come here instead?”

☆ She buys wine and sets up little movie nights to make staying home more appealing.

☆ She starts whispering the future to you during pillow talk: “One day this won’t have to be secret. You’ll just come home to me.”

☆ She says she doesn’t care about other people, but the truth is: you belong to her.

☆ She fantasizes about the day it’s all out in the open—no more parties, no more sneaking around, just you and her.

☆ Her possessiveness grows in silence, but she masks it with careful restraint—because keeping you safe means keeping the secret intact.

☆ And when you sleep in her bed, curled around her, she holds you tighter than she should, whispering, “I’ll protect you. From them. From everything. Just stay mine.”

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

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

Pls my wife may we get some desperate lesbian content about friend (wife) reader ignoring abby after what she did to joel because she was scared, so abby just gets all teary eyed and just starts to try to please her sexually

What We Bury in Silence - abby anderson x reader

pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

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

warnings: MDNI 18+ Explicit sexual content (fingering r receiving), themes of trauma and grief, emotional and psychological tension, references to violence and loss (Joel’s death), guilt, anger, and forgiveness struggles, raw emotional vulnerability and confession

summary: You and Abby were close—more than friends, though no one dared to say it aloud. But after Joel's death, you went quiet. Abby thought you'd never forgive her. That silence breaks one night when guilt, rage, and buried desire finally ignite.

masterlist

This story contains sexual content—please read with care. You are responsible for what you consume online.

You hadn’t said a word to her in weeks. Not since Jackson. Not since the blood. Not since you found out what she did.

Abby thought she'd be ready for the aftermath—Joel’s face haunting her dreams, her name spat like venom in town. But your silence? That hit deeper than any wound she’d ever taken.

You avoided her at base. Eyes down. Steps sharp. Not a glance. Not even hatred—just absence. It made her sick.

She knocked tonight anyway.

“Just talk to me,” Abby said through your door, voice low and wrecked. “Please.”

Nothing.

Abby stood there for minutes. She turned to leave—then froze when the door clicked open behind her.

Your eyes met. And it was like the air shattered. You were still wearing his jacket.

“Why are you here?” you asked, voice even but barely holding together.

Abby swallowed hard. “I didn’t come for a fight. I just…” Her voice cracked. “I miss you.”

You didn’t speak. Just stepped aside. Let her in like a storm you were too tired to fight.

She lingered by the table, arms stiff by her sides. “You won’t look at me,” she said. “You won’t yell. Won’t curse me out. Just… nothing.”

You sat on the couch. “What do you want from me, Abby?”

The name was a blade on your tongue.

She moved closer—slow, uncertain. “I want to explain.”

You let her. And she told you everything. Her dad. The Fireflies. Joel’s choice. Her own rage. When she finished, the silence was worse than before.

You stood. Crossed the room. She flinched when your hand brushed her cheek.

“I hate what you did,” you whispered. “I hate that I still want you.”

And something in her shattered.

The first kiss was desperate—salted with tears, teeth, regret. You shoved her back against the wall, hands tangling in her hair, lips fierce and unforgiving.

Abby groaned, fingers digging into your waist like she was scared you’d disappear. You bit her lip hard. She moaned.

“This doesn’t fix anything,” you hissed.

“I know,” she breathed, eyes dark. “But let me try anyway.”

You didn’t stop her when she sank to her knees. She tugged your pants down slowly, reverently, like she was asking for permission with every touch.

“I’m sorry,” she said against your inner thigh. “I’d take it back if I could. I’d undo all of it.”

You didn’t answer, but you didn’t push her away either. Her mouth was soft. Skilled. Every flick of her tongue was a plea for forgiveness.

You gasped, fisting her hair, thighs trembling.

“Fuck—Abby—”

She moaned at the sound of her name. You could feel her trembling too. She didn’t stop until you were wrecked—legs shaking, breath gone, body arched against the guilt and the heat between you.

And when you pulled her up and kissed her again, she cried into your mouth. You dragged her to bed. Tore her clothes off. Took your time making her fall apart—over and over again.

The air was thick with sweat, shame, and the unspoken truth that this might never be enough.

But it was something. It was real.

You woke tangled in her arms, her face buried in your neck like she couldn’t bear to let you go. You watched the sunrise in silence.

Then finally, softly: “I still don’t forgive you.”

Abby nodded against your skin. “I know.”

You turned to face her, touched her jaw.

“But I think I want to try.”

Nora told you exactly what she did. The brutality. The violence. You were disgusted despite knowing why she did it.

You don’t want to let her in. Not really. But the moment the door clicks shut behind you, every sharp edge of your silence softens—just a little.

She stands there, all tension and regret, like she’s trying to hold herself together for both of you. Maybe she’s the only one doing any holding right now.

“I didn’t come to make it worse,” Abby says, voice low, raw. “I just need you to hear me.”

You look away. “You don’t get to ask that. Not after everything.”

Her eyes flick down. “I know. I’m sorry. More than you can imagine.”

"You killed a girl's father Infront of her. You made her watch"

"He killed my dad"

Something twists inside you. You want to yell, to tell her to leave. But you just swallow and keep looking at the floor.

“I hate what you did,” you finally say, voice steady but cold. “And I hate that I still want you. It makes me sick.”

Abby’s breath catches. She takes a step closer, but you don’t flinch.

“why are you still here?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

She swallows, eyes searching yours like she’s trying to find a place to land. “Because I’m not ready to lose you.”

You don’t move. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing you crack. But inside, the walls are trembling.

“Why should I believe you?” you whisper, voice rough like gravel. “After everything you did, everything you took from her? Violence doesn't solve anything”

She steps closer, and you feel the heat of her breath. “Because I’m drowning in the same guilt. I carry it every second. Joel’s face, your silence... I don’t deserve you.”

You close your eyes for a moment, swallowing the lump in your throat. The truth is, you’ve missed her—the way she looked at you, fierce and broken all at once. But that only makes the ache worse.

“Maybe I want to hate you,” you admit, voice barely audible. “Maybe I want you to hurt like I do.”

Abby’s hands reach out slowly, trembling. “Then let me in. Let me be the reason you don’t have to carry it alone.”

Your heart is pounding, a wild, desperate rhythm that betrays your cold words. You push her hand away, but your body betrays you—your fingers twitch, wanting to touch her.

Her lips brush your neck, soft and tentative, and the ache spirals into something darker, something desperate.

You catch her mouth with yours, rough and urgent, like you’re trying to reclaim the pieces of yourself she holds hostage. Your hands thread through her hair, pulling her closer as your lips clash.

The taste of her—salt and something bittersweet—makes your knees weak. You break the kiss, gasping. “This doesn’t fix anything,” you choke out.

Abby’s voice is a whisper against your skin. “No. But maybe it’s a start.”

Her hands explore, tentative but hungry, trailing under your shirt like she’s memorizing every inch. You let go of some of the bitterness, the anger. Let the heat flood in and drown the cold for just a moment.

And when she sinks to her knees, the guilt and desire twist into a single, fierce need that can’t be denied.

Your breath hitches as she lowers herself, hands trembling but steady, like she’s asking for forgiveness with every touch. You don’t stop her—not because you forgive her yet, but because a part of you aches for this connection, this dangerous comfort.

Her mouth finds your skin, soft and worshipful, tracing a path that burns and soothes at the same time. You close your eyes, biting your lip to hold back a shudder.

“I don’t deserve this,” you whisper, voice rough.

Her hands clutch your hips tighter. “Maybe not. But I need this. Need you.”

You grip the back of her head, pulling her closer, desperate for something real in the chaos of guilt and rage. Her tongue flicks against your skin, and it’s like a spark igniting a wildfire beneath your ribs. You’re trembling, torn between pushing her away and pulling her deeper.

When she finally parts your clothing, her fingers brush over your skin like a promise — fragile but fierce. You gasp, caught between shame and want.

“Please,” she breathes, voice thick with need and regret.

You tremble but don’t say no.

Her mouth moves with reverence, worshipping every inch, every scar, every broken piece. You’re lost in the sensation, in the desperate heat that roars through you.

Your hands clutch her hair, pulling her up into a harsh, ragged kiss.

“I’m scared,” you confess, voice breaking. “Scared that I’ll never be okay. That I’ll never forgive.”

She kisses you harder. “Then I’ll keep fighting. For you. For us.”

The room hums with tension, desire, and the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, you can find a way through the wreckage — together.

Your breath is ragged, heart pounding like it wants to break free from your chest. Every touch from Abby feels like fire and ice all at once—burning away the walls you built, but freezing the parts of you that still ache with pain. You pull back slightly, eyes searching hers, desperate for something to hold onto.

“I’ve been so angry,” you whisper, voice raw and cracked. “Angry at you, at him, at myself. Angry because I thought if I stayed furious, I could protect what’s left of me.”

Her hands tremble as they cup your face. “I never wanted to take that from you. I wanted to be the one you could lean on, even if you didn’t believe it.”

Tears sting your eyes. You don’t wipe them away. Letting them fall feels like admitting you’re human—broken, hurting, but still here.

“I hate what you did,” you confess, voice breaking, “but I hate carrying this anger even more. It’s like poison, and I’m tired of being sick.”

Abby leans in, her lips brushing yours with such gentleness it makes your chest ache. “Then let me help you heal. Let me be the cure, even if it takes forever.”

You close your eyes and let yourself believe it—for just a moment, you let the weight of the past fall away.

When you open them again, you’re quiet but sure.

“I forgive you,” you say, barely above a whisper. “Not because it’s easy. Not because I forget. But because I don’t want this anger to own me anymore.”

Abby’s breath catches. She pulls you close, arms wrapping around you like she’s never letting go.

In that moment, broken and whole all at once, you realize forgiveness isn’t a clean slate. It’s a choice. A hard, painful, beautiful choice to let go and try again.

And you’re ready to take it.

The morning light filters softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room where you lie tangled in Abby’s arms. It’s quiet, but it’s not empty anymore.

You trace lazy circles on her back, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breath. The weight of yesterday’s confessions still lingers, but it’s lighter now—less a burden, more a fragile thread holding you both together.

You don’t pretend the past is gone. You know the scars remain, invisible to others but etched deep inside. But for the first time, those scars don’t feel like walls. They feel like part of the map—proof of how far you’ve come.

Abby shifts, resting her forehead against yours. “Thank you,” she murmurs.

You smile softly, heart swelling with something you thought was lost—hope.

“Thank you for not giving up.”

You don’t know what the future holds. Maybe there will be more pain, more fights, more moments where forgiveness feels impossible.

But right now, wrapped in this fragile peace, you decide it’s enough.

It’s enough to try. To live. To heal.

Together.