You’re Boygenius One Is Sooo Iconic Btw

Do you have a material list? 

i just made one!

You can find it here

Hii omg live for you're work

Could I maybe request loser ellie fluff/nsfw hcs

Headcannos: loser!ellie williams x reader

Part 1 part 2

Sfw:

☆ Loser Ellie who doesn’t make eye contact with anyone, and who gets nervous when someone she doesn’t know talks to her for longer than 5 minutes.

☆ Loser Ellie who spots you at a party and who instantly wanted to talk to you.

☆ Loser Ellie who tries talking to you the whole night but ends up on chickening out.

☆ Loser Ellie who accidently bumps into you and drops her drink on you.

☆ Loser Ellie who keeps apologizing without making eye contact.

“What the fuck you!” yelled as you felt a cold liquid run down your body. Ellie looked at you in shock.

The pretty girl. Fuck.

“i-im sorry” she stuttered as she looked at her feet, too embarrassed to make eye contact with you.

“It’s ok” you spoke softly as you put your hand on her shoulder.

Her head snapped up to where your hand was. Ellie’s jaw dropped at the touch.

“I Ellie” she spoke quickly.

You raised your eyebrows confused.

“I Ellie?” You don’t remember asking her name, and why the fuck isn’t she talking English properly?

A pink blush spread across Ellie’s cheeks. This is humiliating.

“I am Ellie- like my name. I’m Ellie. Hey!...yeah, that’s my name Ellie…” She rambled on.

☆ Loser Ellie who wants to die after that interaction, but at least she knew your name.

☆ Loser Ellie who somehow finds your Instagram and who stalks you daily.

☆ Loser Ellie who practically drools every time you post something.

☆ Loser Ellie who doesn’t have the balls to follow you on her main, so she made a separate account.

☆ Loser Ellie who almost pisses herself, when she saw you sent her a DM on her main.

☆ Loser Ellie who realized that Dina was the one who took her phone and DM’d you on her behalf because she was tired of Ellie constantly looking at your pictures.

With shaky hands Ellie opened the chat to see her message.

“Hey I’m the girl from the party! I got your Instagram from a friend, and I thought you were cute… Would you like to go on a date with me?”

Ellie groaned at the message, her eyes lowered down to see your response:

“Oh yeah! The girl that dropped some strange liquid on me:) I think you’re cute so yeah, I’d love to go”

☆ Loser Ellie who decides to take you on a picnic, and she planned the whole thing. She even made all the foods from scratch.

☆ Loser Ellie who spends 4 hours before the date on FaceTime with Dina, because she couldn’t pick an outfit.

☆ Loser Ellie who waits for you at the park and almost vomits with nerves when she sees you walking towards her.

☆ Loser Ellie who extends her hand out for a handshake, but you just rolled your eyes and brought her in for a hug.

☆ Loser Ellie who stays quiet, and barley looks at you because she was going to explode.

☆ Loser Ellie who loses her shit when you ask her about her tattoos.

☆ Loser Ellie who forgot this was a date and starts telling you all about space, tattoos and Joel.

☆ Loser Ellie who remembers this was a date and becomes all shy again.

“I’m sorry” she muttered looking down.

“For what?”

“talking so much”

“It’s ok, I like listening to you Ellie” you said with a smile.

☆ Loser Ellie who walks you all the way home.

☆ Loser Ellie who looks down to your lips hoping you’d make a move. You noticed and all you did was smirk, as you leaned forward to give her a kiss on the cheek.

☆ Loser Ellie who listened to your front door close, and she brings her fingers to the spot where you just kissed her.

☆ Loser Ellie who asks Dina to write you a texting, asking to go on another date.

Nsfw:

☆ Loser Ellie who was soaked when the two of you made out for the first time.

☆ Loser Ellie who didn’t know how to kiss you, so her hands were awkwardly on her lap as you helped her.

☆ Loser Ellie who’s hands you grab and put it on your waist.

Ellie pulled away heavily breathing, her hands still on your waist. “It’s ok if I touch you?” she asked unsure.

“Use me Ellie” you muttered as you kissed her again, and she most definitely moaned into your mouth after that.

☆ Loser Ellie who cums the first time she ate you out, and you didn’t even touch her.

☆ Loser Ellie who audibly gasped when she saw in a bra for the first time.

☆ Loser Ellie who likes to believe that she’s in charge because she’s on top, but in reality you’re telling her what to do.

☆ Loser Ellie who moans every time she gets a taste of you.

☆ Loser Ellie who loves it when you leave hickeys on her.

“My girl did this”

“yeah my girlfriend left these”

☆ Loser Ellie who’s too scared to ask for sex so she just kisses your neck and waits for you to say something.

☆ Loser Ellie who cums after 2 seconds when you first went down on her.

☆ Loser Ellie who touches herself to your pictures every night.

☆ Loser Ellie who humps her pillow imagining it was you.

☆ Loser Ellie who has a collection of your panties that she uses to get off on the nights you weren’t with her.

☆ Loser Ellie who gets wet when you smile at her.

☆ Loser Ellie who goes to the bathroom every time you come over because you were just so pretty.

☆ Loser Ellie who loves it when you praise her.

“yeah just like that baby”

“Fuck Els you’re doing great”

 ☆ Loser Ellie who wishes she could record your moans because they are so pretty.

Yeah she was a loser, and pathetic at times, but she was your pathetic loser.

Under her desk - ellie williams x reader

pairing: ceo!ellie williams x secratery fem!reader

requests are open, send me your thoughts:)

Warnings: MDNI Explicit sexual content (18+): intense sexual tension, implied oral sex, semi-public workplace sex, voyeurism, jealous/possessive behavior

Summary: You're her secretary—organized, polite, and always on time. She's the boss—cold, brilliant, and merciless. But every glance from Ellie lingers too long. Every touch burns. And every closed-door meeting gets harder to forget.

masterlist

MONDAY

The first time Ellie Williams looks at you that way, you think you imagined it.

It’s just a glance. A flicker of her eyes up your legs as you place the morning reports on her desk. But there’s a pause—half a second too long before she meets your gaze, green eyes heavy-lidded and unreadable behind wire-rimmed glasses.

“Thank you,” she says. Her voice is a low hum, raspy from lack of sleep or too much coffee. Or both. You nod, trying not to look at her mouth. Trying not to notice how she licks her lower lip when she turns back to the screen.

You walk out of her glass-walled office trying not to blush, legs unsteady under your pencil skirt. You shouldn’t have worn that lipstick. But the thing is—you know what you’re doing.

And so does she.

WEDNESDAY

Ellie Williams is brilliant, successful, and terrifying. She doesn’t waste time with small talk. She hates lateness. She reads contracts like they’re storybooks and intimidates men twice her age with a single look.

She’s also annoyingly hot.

You’ve spent the last three weeks working under her, literally and figuratively, and she hasn’t so much as smiled at you. Until now.

“Shut the door,” she says one morning, not looking up from her laptop. Her voice is low, authoritative.

You close it behind you, pulse skipping.

“Come here.”

She slides a file across her glass desk. You step closer than necessary, your hand brushing hers as you take it. It’s electric. It feels intentional.

“Read this clause,” she says, tapping a page. “Tell me what’s wrong with it.”

You lean over. She leans back in her chair, one leg crossing over the other slowly, eyes fixed not on the paper—but on you. You can feel her stare. Your skin burns under it.

“That’s… ambiguous wording,” you murmur. “It leaves too much room for liability.”

Her lips curve just slightly. You did well.

And then she says it: “You’re smarter than you look.”

You swallow. “You don’t know how I look.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Don’t I?”

It’s dangerous. Everything about her is. But you leave her office feeling like you just passed a test.

FRIDAY NIGHT

The building is empty.

You stayed late because she asked. A simple email: Stay after hours. Need you to help draft a response.

No “please.” No “thank you.” But you came.

Her office is dimly lit. Just her desk lamp and the amber glow from the city skyline outside.

Ellie’s jacket is off. Her sleeves rolled up. Tattoos exposed. Her jaw tight as she types. You stand nearby, heart pounding.

“Come here,” she says again, voice lower now. Rough.

You step beside her. She gestures at the screen, scrolling through a client proposal. But her hand brushes your hip. She doesn’t move it.

You don’t breathe.

“You smell like cinnamon,” she murmurs suddenly, almost distracted.

“It’s my lotion.”

“I like it.”

There’s silence.

You turn to her—slowly.

Ellie’s eyes flick to your lips. Your knees go weak. She leans in. So close. Not kissing. Just hovering—like she’s daring you.

“I’m your boss,” she says, whispering it like a sin.

“I know,” you whisper back.

“I shouldn’t want you.”

“But you do.”

Her hand grips your hip. You don’t know who kisses first.

But once her mouth is on yours, everything blurs. She pulls you onto her lap, fingers tangled in your hair, tongue sliding past your lips with a groan that makes your spine arch.

Her mouth is hot, desperate, possessive.

But the moment is short-lived. She pulls back, breathless, eyes wild.

“Get out,” she says harshly.

You freeze. “Ellie—”

“I said get out.”

You leave shaking. But she doesn’t stop you because she regrets it. She stops you because if you stayed, she would’ve had you on her desk.

WEEK LATER

She avoids you all week. Short emails. Clipped instructions. Barely looks at you.

It hurts. But you understand.

Power. Rules. Risk.

Still, she calls you into her office on Thursday. You go, heart hammering.

She’s pacing. Frustrated.

“I can’t think,” she snaps. “Not with you out there.”

You blink. “Did I do something wrong?”

Ellie stops. Looks at you like you’re the problem and the solution.

“You’re perfect,” she whispers. “That’s the problem.”

And then she’s kissing you again—this time rough, frantic. She shoves everything off her desk in one motion, making you gasp.

“Sit,” she growls.

You do.

And then her mouth is on your neck, your blouse unbuttoned, her hands everywhere, as if she’s waited months for this.

You moan her name—soft, breathy. She freezes.

Then she says it: “You’re mine.”

You nod. “Yes.”

You start sneaking around. Closed doors. Locked meeting rooms. Lingering touches behind your desk.

Ellie becomes obsessed.

She buys you new pens just because she saw you chewing the caps. Schedules “private reviews” that last way too long. Texts you when you’re home just to say, "Wanna come back and help me ‘finish something?’”

She doesn’t date anyone else. You check. But she doesn’t call you her girlfriend, either.

Power. Risk. Rules.

But in her eyes—in the way her thumb traces your lips after she kisses you—you know.

You own her, too.

MONDAY

The worst part isn’t that you kissed your boss. It’s that you keep doing it.

Ellie’s office becomes a second home for secrets: stolen kisses, whispered confessions, shaky breaths against frosted glass. But it never goes further than that—not fully.

There’s always a line.

Sometimes you think she’s drawing it. Sometimes, you think she’s one step from erasing it completely.

And every time she stops, the excuse is always the same.

“I can’t afford to lose you.”

You don’t know if she means as her assistant… or something more.

TUESDAY

Ellie starts acting weird.

She stares at you when she thinks you don’t notice. She double-texts you at night, then apologizes. Her fingers shake slightly when you hand her coffee. But she still never says what she wants.

And you’re getting tired of pretending.

“Are we going to talk about this?” you finally ask, one evening after everyone’s left. You’re leaning in her office doorway, arms crossed. She’s behind her desk, eyes on her screen but clearly distracted.

She doesn’t look at you.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Ellie.”

Now she looks up. Her jaw tightens.

“It’s dangerous,” she says quietly. “This is my company. You’re my employee. If anyone finds out—”

“I’d be the one who gets fired,” you cut in.

Her face shifts. There it is. The truth.

“I would never let that happen,” she says, voice low and deadly. “You have no idea what I’d do to protect you.”

You step forward slowly. “Then stop hiding me.”

She looks like she wants to say something. Instead, she stands. Walks around her desk. Stops a breath away. Her hand brushes your wrist.

And she whispers: “I don’t hide you. I hide us. Because once people know, they’ll want to take you from me.”

There’s something unhinged in her voice. Soft, but sharp. Like she’s thought about it too much. Like she’s scared of how far she’d go.

FRIDAY

You try to act normal.

Emails. Schedules. Morning coffee runs. But Ellie keeps breaking the façade. She calls you in five times for "review." Never talks about work. Just stares at you. Sometimes says something ridiculous like, “You wore that on purpose” or “I had a dream about you.”

And then there are the nights. Her texts turn softer, needier.

Ellie: Are you in bed?

Ellie: Can I call?

Ellie: Just wanna hear your voice.

You let her. And when she breathes your name into the phone, quiet and rough, it makes your heart ache. Because this doesn’t feel casual anymore. It feels like it’s killing her to keep you a secret.

SUNDAY

You show up to her apartment for the first time.

Ellie doesn’t even pretend to play it cool. She opens the door in a black tee and sweatpants, hair a mess, eyes tired like she hasn’t slept in days.

“You came.”

“You asked me to.”

She pulls you in without a word. Kisses you like it’s oxygen. Like she’s been holding her breath all week.

You don’t leave until 3AM.

There’s no sex. Just tangled limbs. Soft kisses. Ellie’s head resting on your chest like she needs to be near your heartbeat.

You stroke her hair, whispering, “Why do you make this so hard?”

And her answer is quiet. “Because if I ever lost you, I’d never recover.”

WEDNESDAY

It happens. You get caught.

You didn’t even notice the door was cracked open.

You were leaning on her desk, Ellie between your legs, her hand up your thigh, whispering something filthy against your neck.

And someone—probably an intern—saw it.

You don’t find out until later, when HR sends Ellie a request for a "private meeting." That afternoon, Ellie storms into your little cubicle, eyes wild, pulse in her throat.

“We’re not hiding anymore,” she says, grabbing your hand in front of the whole floor.

“Ellie—”

“Let them talk. Let them guess. I don’t give a damn.”

She pulls you into her office, slams the door, and kisses you like it’s the only thing that matters.

And that night, she finally takes you home again—but this time, there’s no restraint.

This time, she makes love to you like she’s claiming territory. Like she’s trying to memorize everything, in case the world tries to take it away.

ONE WEEK LATER

Ellie is pacing. You're seated across her office, legs crossed, heart pounding.

“You’re not just my secretary anymore,” she says. “You haven’t been for a while.”

You look at her. “So what now?”

She stops. Walks to you. Kneels—yes, kneels—between your legs and rests her head in your lap.

“We rewrite the rules.”

You card your fingers through her hair.

“And if they fire you?” you ask

Ellie looks up at you with that same fire in her eyes.

“They won’t. But if they do? I’ll build my own damn company. Put your name on the front. Hire myself as your assistant.”

You laugh. You kiss her.

And you both know you’re done pretending.

MONDAY

It starts with a look. Ellie walks in late—coffee in hand, sleeves rolled up, jaw sharp—and heads straight to your desk. She pauses. Leans down.

You think she’s going to whisper something.

But no.

She presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

Right there. In front of everyone. You freeze. So does the office.

Conversations stop. Keyboards go quiet. Someone drops their pen.

Ellie stands up straight, totally unfazed.

“Good morning, baby,” she says like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

And then she heads to her office. Just like that, everyone knows.

By lunch, the office is buzzing.

“Did you see that?”

“I thought she was single.”

“Isn’t that her boss?”

“There’s no way that’s allowed.”

“I heard they were already hooking up for weeks.”

You try to focus on your screen, but it’s impossible. Every glance in your direction lingers too long. You hear your name more in whispered tones than anyone should in a professional setting.

But Ellie? She acts like it’s nothing. Like she hasn’t just lit the entire building on fire with one kiss.

The next day, HR calls Ellie in again. You sit at your desk, sick with anxiety.

She walks out 30 minutes later, face unreadable. You follow her to her office, shut the door behind you.

“What happened?”

She exhales. “They’re not happy. But technically, I didn’t break any rules.”

“Technically?”

She shrugs. “We’re adults. Consensual. No direct coercion or manipulation. I didn’t promote you or change your pay. Legally, they can’t fire either of us.”

“But they’re watching now,” you murmur.

Ellie steps closer. “Let them.”

You overhear two coworkers talking about you in the breakroom later that week. Something crude. Something about how “you must be really good at keeping her attention” if the boss is that obsessed.

You walk out before they see you. Embarrassed. Furious. Ellie notices immediately.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lie.

She doesn’t believe you. Of course she doesn’t. Twenty minutes later, you hear her voice—raised—from down the hall.

“Say it again. I dare you.”

You stand up. Heart racing. Ellie’s got one of the men cornered, towering over him with a calm, cold fury that could freeze lava.

“She’s smarter than everyone in this damn building. And if I hear you speak about her like that again, you won’t be working here anymore.”

He stammers. Apologizes. She doesn't back off.

“She’s not just mine—she’s the best thing about this place.”

The entire office hears.

You’re both in her car. The sun is setting. You’re quiet. Ellie’s gripping the steering wheel a little too tight.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” she mutters. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

She looks at you.

“Because I want to protect you so badly it scares me.”

You reach over, touch her arm.

“I’ve never had anyone stand up for me like that.”

She exhales slowly.

“I’m yours,” you whisper.

And Ellie—tough, stoic Ellie—closes her eyes like she’s holding back tears.

“I’ve been yours since the first day you walked into my office,” she confesses.

THURSDAY

You didn’t think she’d go public with it. But she does.

At the company-wide meeting, Ellie is cool and composed as ever. She addresses the quarterly goals, talks profits and projections. Then, at the end:

“One more thing.”

She glances at you.

“I want to address the elephant in the room. Yes, I’m in a relationship with my secretary. It’s not a secret anymore. And if anyone has a problem with it, take it up with HR. Or better yet, with me.”

Silence.

Then applause. Actual applause. You’re stunned.

She doesn’t smile. Doesn’t wink. Just steps down, professional and poised, like she didn’t just dismantle the gossip mill with a single announcement.

Later, in her office, she pulls you in by the waist and murmurs, “They’re never touching you. Not even with words.”

Ellie books a meeting room. Not for work. Just to eat lunch with you away from the eyes. She brings you your favorite sandwich. Sits close. Hands brushing under the table.

“Is this okay?” she asks quietly. “I know it’s messy.”

You smile. “I’d sit under your desk again if I had to.”

Ellie laughs—real, unguarded.

Then she leans in. Presses a kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m not letting them shame us. You’re not a secret. You’re everything.”

MONDAY

Things have mostly gone back to normal.

Well—office normal. People don’t whisper quite as loudly anymore. HR stopped breathing down Ellie’s neck. And you’ve found a quiet rhythm with her—sneaking kisses in her office, flirty texts during boring meetings, soft nights tangled in her sheets. But there's still a tension in the air. Like something’s waiting to snap.

Like you’re both still holding back.

TUESDAY

His name’s Jordan. New hire. Tech department.

Cute in a safe, unthreatening way—gelled hair, bright smile, button-ups that are a little too fitted. He’s harmless. Probably.

Until he starts showing up at your desk. First it’s innocent. A shared joke. A smile. Then it escalates.

“You’ve got the prettiest eyes in this whole office.”

You glance up from your computer. “Thanks.”

“Bet that’s how you got hired, huh?” he laughs, like it’s funny.

You go cold. “Excuse me?”

“I mean—c’mon. The boss is, like, obsessed with you. Can’t blame her.”

You stand up. “That’s completely inappropriate.”

He just smirks. “Relax. It’s a compliment.”

You don’t even answer. You walk. Straight to Ellie’s office.

You barely shut the door before her voice sharpens. “What happened?”

You tell her everything. She’s already grabbing her jacket before you finish.

“I’ll talk to him,” you say quickly. “You don’t have to—”

But her eyes have darkened.

“I do have to. Because he crossed a line and because you’re mine.”

You swallow.

“Ellie—”

“No. I’m done being polite.”

The entire office is silent again.

Ellie’s voice slices through the air like a blade.

“I don’t care if you’re new or stupid or both. You don’t talk to her like that. You don’t look at her like that. You don’t breathe near her unless she wants you to.”

Jordan stammers. Ellie steps closer.

“She’s not your peer. She’s not your flirt project. She’s mine. And if you can’t understand what respect looks like, you’ll be out of a job faster than you can blink.”

Jordan nods, practically shaking. You’ve never seen her like this.

Furious. Cold. Protective.

And so, so in love.

She slams her office door shut. You sit quietly.

Ellie’s pacing. Her hands run through her hair, jaw clenched. She won’t even look at you.

“Are you okay?” you ask gently.

She stops.

“I hate it,” she whispers. “I hate the idea of someone touching you. Someone thinking they have a right to you.”

“Ellie—”

“No. I’ve been trying so fucking hard not to say it.”

You freeze. She walks up to you slowly. Cups your face in both hands.

“But I’m in love with you.”

Your breath catches.

“I didn’t want to scare you,” she murmurs. “Didn’t want to say it too soon. But I love you. And I’d burn this whole company down if someone hurt you.”

Your heart is racing.

“Say it again.”

She leans in, forehead to yours.

“I love you.”

You kiss her like you’ve been dying to for weeks. Deep. Grateful. Starving. And when you pull back, breathless, your smile is shaking.

“I love you too.”

Ellie’s whole body relaxes. Like she’s been waiting to exhale for months.

You’re at her place. You’re in her bed, skin warm from her touch, her fingers brushing your bare spine.

Ellie whispers into your hair: “You’re mine. And not because I’m your boss. Not because you work for me. Because I chose you.”

You whisper it back. And when she falls asleep with her arms around you, you realize something:

You were never under her desk. You were always under her skin.

FRIDAY, 6:42 P.M

The office is nearly empty.

It’s the end of the quarter. People went home early. Laughter and footsteps faded around 5:00. The air has that hollow, humming stillness that only comes after hours. Fluorescent lights dimmed. Elevator chimes long gone.

You should go home. You both should.

But Ellie’s door is closed. And your back is pressed to it.

Her mouth is on your neck, hot and open and needy.

You moan quietly, hands fisting the front of her shirt, body arching as her thigh presses between your legs, her grip firm at your waist.

“Ellie,” you whisper. “Someone could—”

“Shh.” Her voice is low, rough. Her lips brush your ear. “They’re all gone.”

You glance toward the glass panels. She’s pulled the blinds halfway, but it’s still risky.

And yet… You don’t stop her.

You're sitting on the edge of her desk now. Skirt bunched. Blazer long gone.

Ellie’s shirt is open—collar popped, chest rising fast. She’s in her chair between your knees, one hand gripping your thigh, the other sliding dangerously high.

“Look at me,” she commands softly.

You do.

God, you do.

Because Ellie in the office chair—tie loosened, hair mussed, eyes heavy with lust—is your undoing.

“You always sit here like this when you’re typing,” she murmurs, dragging her fingers up your inner thigh. “And you expect me to focus?”

“Ellie—” you gasp.

Her fingers brush against your soaked underwear. She smiles.

“Such a fucking distraction.”

You kiss her hard, teeth knocking. Desperate. Uncoordinated. Hot.

Then she slips her fingers beneath the lace and—

“Hey, boss, I—oh my God—”

You jolt.

Ellie jerks away, instantly on her feet, shielding you with her body. Your heart is pounding. Face flushed. Skirt still hiked. Her hands still warm on your hips.

In the doorway: Jordan. Eyes wide. Frozen.

“GET. OUT.” Ellie’s voice is a snarl.

He stammers, backs out, slams the door behind him.

You’re gasping.

Ellie’s jaw is clenched so hard, you think it might crack.

You fix your clothes in a daze. Ellie watches you. Still breathing heavily. Still angry.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “That was reckless.”

She walks up behind you. Wraps her arms around your waist. Buries her face in your shoulder.

“I don’t regret it.”

You turn, eyes meeting hers.

“Are you okay?”

She nods. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Ellie—”

“Not literally. Probably.”

You laugh, a little shakily. She presses her forehead to yours.

“I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“I don’t want you to.”

MONDAY

The entire office knows. Again.

Jordan’s quiet. Pale. Avoids you like the plague. Ellie calls a full department meeting. Not for discipline—but for clarity.

She looks every single employee dead in the eye and says: “Yes. We’re together. Yes, it’s serious. No, it’s not casual. And if anyone thinks about violating our privacy again, I will escalate it to legal.”

You feel the burn of her protectiveness long after she finishes speaking.

She pulls you into her office. Locks the door. This time, just to kiss you slow.

“Maybe I should move you out of the secretary role,” she murmurs. “Not because of the rumors. Because I need you close—and this isn’t sustainable.”

“Are you firing me as your secretary?”

“I’m promoting you,” she says with a smirk. “To something safer. Something that means I don’t have to hold back.”

Your heart flutters.

“Is that even allowed?”

“I’m the boss,” she says. “It’s whatever I say it is.”

I NEED MORE PROFESSOR ELLIEE

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Knee deep - ellie williams x reader

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

Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

requests are open, send me your thoughts:)

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

Summary: In which ellie wanted you back

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t answer.

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

You wanted to. God, you wanted to.

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

“What do you want, Ellie?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then she started showing up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No one could compare to Ellie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The problem was—Ellie didn’t stop.

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

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

The tension grew like a weed.

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

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

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

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

Silence.

“Jesus,” Daisy muttered. “You are.”

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

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

You didn’t answer.

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

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

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

You knew it was her.

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

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

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

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

“And now you do?”

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

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

“This is wrong,” you said.

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

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

And you kissed her back. Only for a moment.

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

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

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

The next day, you told Daisy everything.

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

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

Ellie showed up that night. Like she knew.

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

You didn’t reply.

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

“Guess it’s just us now.”

Abby Anderson Masterlist

main master list

about me!

Stories𓂃⋆.˚

- what we bury in silence: 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.

- look at us now: Caught between a turbulent past with Ellie and a slowly blossoming future with Abby, you're forced to confront everything you thought you knew about love, loyalty, and healing.

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

- new magic wand: Abby has never been good at letting things go. And she sure as hell isn't letting go of you.

- stay in bed: in which you stayed in bed

- mrs. postman: in which you fell for the post lady.

series𓂃⋆.˚

Milf Abby

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

Baby

part 1 part 2 part 3

drabbles, hcs and short stories𓂃⋆.˚

gamer abby (hcs)

ceo abby (hcs)

Abby is so hottttttt

I want to kiss her pretty little face after sex with her and telling her that shes pretty and sweet 🥺 and i want her to make me stay in bed even if we have patrol and being all clingy and cute 🥺

#need her

Stay in bed - abby anderson x reader

hi anon! this deadass made me sigh out of singleness... i hope you enjoy:)

Pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

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

warnings: none

Summary: in which you stayed in bed

masterlist

The early morning sun filtered through the gaps in the blinds, casting golden stripes across Abby's bare back as she lay on her side, one muscled arm tucked under the pillow, the other draped across your waist. You were tangled in the warmth of her, limbs lazy and heavy, breaths slow. The blanket clung to your hips, your skin still humming from last night’s closeness.

You hadn’t meant to stay up so late. Patrol had been long and cold, but Abby had pulled you close the second you got back—no words, just warmth and need. The way she kissed you last night, with a mixture of urgency and tenderness, had left you aching in the best way.

And now, in the quiet hush of dawn, you traced the curve of her shoulder with your fingertips, marveling at how someone so strong could feel so gentle.

“I know you’re awake,” you whispered against her skin, your lips brushing just beneath her ear.

Abby groaned, pulling you tighter into her. “I don’t want to get up. Not if it means leaving this.”

You smiled, heart fluttering. “We have patrol in an hour.”

Her arm curled more securely around you. “Fuck patrol.”

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. “That’s not very responsible of you, Anderson.”

Her head tilted up enough to look at you with sleep-heavy eyes. “What are they gonna do? Fire me?” She smirked, then softened when she saw your flushed cheeks, your thumb grazing her jaw. “You’re too pretty. You make it hard to care about anything else.”

Your breath caught. Abby didn’t always say things like that—not out loud. She was more action than words, more presence than poetry. But when she did speak like this, it was honest, and it hit you deep.

“I want to kiss your pretty little face forever,” you murmured, echoing the sentiment you’d once written anonymously in your journal. You leaned in and did just that—soft kisses at the corner of her mouth, down the curve of her jaw. “You’re so sweet when you’re like this.”

Abby’s hand slid under your shirt—her shirt, really—resting just at your waist. “You’re clingy,” she teased, but her voice was laced with affection. “I like it."

You laughed again, curling up closer, hiding your face in her chest. “You started it. You’re the one who pulled me in the second we walked through the door.”

“That’s different,” she said, kissing the top of your head. “You looked cold.”

“And now?”

“Now you look like mine,” she whispered.

There was a long silence after that. The kind that felt sacred. The kind that didn’t need filling.

Eventually, you felt her shift and sighed as she tried to move. “Nooo, stay.”

Abby chuckled and collapsed back onto the bed with exaggerated drama. “Fine. But just five more minutes.”

“Fifteen,” you bargained, arms locking around her waist.

She kissed your forehead. “Fifteen minutes. Then we do something irresponsible, like skip patrol and make breakfast naked.”

Your laugh turned into a snort. “We’ll get arrested.”

“Worth it,” she muttered sleepily, eyes already drifting closed again.

You stayed there, wrapped up in her, heart full. Maybe the world was still broken in a thousand different ways, but here, in this bed, you had a moment of peace. And Abby. That was enough.

Ellie Williams Masterlist

main masterlist

about me!

Stories˚₊۶ৎ˙⋆

- drunk running: 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.

- look at us now: Caught between a turbulent past with Ellie and a slowly blossoming future with Abby, you're forced to confront everything you thought you knew about love, loyalty, and healing.

- under her desk: You're her secretary—organized, polite, and always on time. She's the boss—cold, brilliant, and merciless. But every glance from Ellie lingers too long. Every touch burns. And every closed-door meeting gets harder to forget.

- to be near you: Ellie was quiet at first, just watching from the background — protective, helpful, always there. But her interest wasn’t harmless. What began as care turned into control, and slowly, you realized she was never going to let you go. Even when you stopped fighting, her obsession only grew stronger.

- the things we do in the dark: A late-night confession turns into something neither of you can take back. In the quiet moments between guilt and longing, you and Ellie finds yourself crossing a line — again and again — in the shadows of a relationship that was never meant to be theirs.

- don't take her from me: Ellie’s always had control—until someone threatens to take the one person she can’t live without

- she: When Ellie starts watching her a little too closely, it’s hard to tell where curiosity ends and obsession begins. What begins as quiet glances and subtle tension quickly turns into something darker—something neither of them fully understands, but both feel deeply.

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

- save your tears: Ellie Williams never wanted commitment. When you first tangled in each other’s sheets, it was her rules: casual, no strings, no complications. You agreed—half-heartedly. But feelings grew in the silence between skin and shadows.

- girlfriend: In a broken world, Ellie Williams becomes the one constant — protective, intense, and impossible to ignore. Their bond is complicated, but it’s all they have.

- drunk texting: After a night of drinking, a risky text is sent to Ellie — one that unravels buried feelings and turns their dynamic upside down.

- high enough: in which you wanted her

- your best friend: in which you wished she wasn't dating your best friend

- knee deep: in which ellie wanted you back

- sports car: in which she took you for a ride

- beneath the mask: in which she saved you

- one step forward, three steps back: In which your relationship always put you 3 steps back

- crimson days: in which she needed comfort

- quiet room: in which you needed comfort

- the cut that always bleeds: in which she left you bleeding

- Split ends: in which you needed help

- drunk words, sober eyes: in which you confessed

- planets: in which you went on a date

- latch: in which you were trapped

- frostbite: in which you shared a special moment with her

- losing sleep: in which you hated her

- dark red: in which she wanted you to herself

- wash day: in which she helps you with your hair

- rose: in which she cant forget you

- comfort: in which she helped you

- bubblegum: in which you fell in love

- I was all over her: in which she wanted to be all over you

- do you still dream of me?: In which you still dream about her

- laundry: In which you didn't fold the laundry

- bad dog: in which you treated her like a bad dog

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

- mary (angst edition): in which you left her to rot

- things to do: In which they got their happily ever after

- satisfied: in which you were the perfect housewife

- in my feelings (angst edition): In which you fell for a loser

- dye it red: In which you dyed your hair red

- ultraviolence: In which she became the person, you've always wanted

- karma: In which you were her downfall

- twilight: In which you couldn't win Ellie's heart

- window: In which Ellie Williams made a big mistake

- in my feelings: In which you showed a loser, a great time

- mary (mental illness edition): In which Ellie wrote you a song.

- brooklyn baby: In which you were dating the world-famous Ellie Williams

- laugh it off: In which Ellie tries to fix your relationship after she was unfaithful

- cool about it: if Ellie couldn't have you, she'd make sure no one else ever will.

- she calls me daddy: You might be engaged but you still always go back to Ellie

- petals on the moon: In which Ellie regrets her decision

- night shift: In which you were the other women

- everybody here wants you: In which you fell in love with someone you couldn't have

- emily i'm sorry: In which Ellie is fucking crazy

- limit to your love: In which you got your heart broken

- I'm not a mountain: In which Ellie makes stupid decisions

- one night only: Ellie wanted needed to see you, but little did she know the one night she wanted to spend with you, would be her final night

- fake it: You and Ellie reminisce on how the two of you got together

- together: Your relationship was toxic, you both knew this... but yet both of you couldn't stay away from each other

- in hell: in which ellie had a taste of what hell felt like

- waste my time: Ellie questions if you really love her or if you were just using her to clean up your mess

- poision: Ellie knows your relationship is toxic, but she can’t help but go back to you.

- nobody; Ellie's biggest fear becomes a reality...

- is there someone else? All Ellie wanted was for you to forgive her

- infatuated: In which Ellie’s “small crush” turned into an obsession

- all the girls you've loved before: Two lost girls, finally found what they've been looking for in each other

- forever: What’s the point of living, if you aren’t by her side?

- moonlight : In which ellie gets high with her lover

series˚₊۶ৎ˙⋆

scream for me: In which not killing the pretty girl was the best mistake she ever made

part 1 part 2 part 3

Therefore, you and me: All you needed was Ellie

part 1 part 2 part 3

Her Sweet girl: in which you had enough

part 1 part 2

Loser Ellie

part 1 part 2

Professor Ellie

professor ellie masterlist

Brothers best friend Ellie

part 1 part 2

Simp Ellie

part 1 part 2

drabbles, hcs and short stories˚₊۶ৎ˙⋆

ellie taking care of sick reader (hcs)

toxic ellie (hcs)

douchebag ellie (hcs)

ellie warming you up (ss)

ellie saying you're a piece of art (ss)

Hi to my favorite TLOU writer!!! I am totally in love with Professor Ellie. (Mommy🫣) How do you imagine her after seeing you talking to another professor/student and being a little flirty with them( like for fun yk)? Do whatever you want. Let her be jealous, sad,angry,possessive IDGAF all your work is a fucking masterpiece so do whatever you want girl 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 KISSESSSSSS😻😻😻

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

i love you sm anon <33

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

☆ You bring Ellie her favorite iced coffee and a container of cut-up fruit, the kids in tow—Arnold babbling in his pram, and Aurora holding your hand in little Velcro sandals.

☆ Ellie knows you're coming, but she doesn't know you got stopped on the quad near the literature building by one of her students.

☆ You’re wearing bike shorts and a cropped tee, sunglasses in your hair, looking unfairly good for someone juggling two small children.

☆ You’re distracted by Aurora asking about clouds while adjusting Arnold’s sunshade when the student approaches.

☆ The student—some cocky, overconfident sophomore—spots you and comes over with a too-wide smile.

☆ “Hey… uh, you lost? Need help finding someone?” they ask, ignoring the fact you’re very clearly fine.

☆ The student starts asking questions that don’t need answering—who you're here for, if you're new on campus, if you have a partner.

☆ You give polite, short answers, focused on Aurora while trying not to cause a scene.

☆ The student leans casually on the pram, cracking jokes and acting like you’re at a coffee shop, not mid-parenting.

☆ You laugh once—a polite laugh—which ends up being a nuclear detonation in Ellie’s mind.

☆ What the student doesn’t know is that Ellie just stepped outside the building to greet you.

☆ She sees the scene from a few yards away—her student leaning way too close to you, eyes shamelessly scanning you up and down.

☆ You haven’t noticed her yet. But she notices everything.

☆ Jealousy hits her like a truck—instant and sharp.

☆ It coils in her stomach, turning to a possessive rage that sits right behind her ribcage.

☆ Her jaw tightens as her eyes laser in on the student’s body language, analyzing every flirty lean and casual smirk.

☆ She’s not just angry—they’re flirting with you in front of her children.

☆ “Are you insane?” she mutters under her breath, already storming across the quad.

☆ Her heart is pounding—part fury, part fear that you were approached at all.

☆ She's not scared you’ll respond—she knows you love her. But the idea of anyone even trying? That’s war.

☆ “Can I help you?” Ellie says sharply as she inserts herself physically between you and the student.

☆ Her tone is low, dangerous—calm in that pre-explosion way.

☆ The student stutters, caught off-guard, suddenly realizing who she is.

☆ “Professor Williams,” they start, awkwardly laughing, “I didn’t realize—”

☆ “That you were flirting with my wife? While she was watching our children?”

☆ You immediately reach out, brushing your hand against Ellie’s back to ground her.

☆ “It’s fine,” you say softly, but Ellie’s not even close to letting it slide.

☆ “No, it’s not fine,” she growls, turning back to the student. “You’re in my class. You should know who I am. And you should’ve known she was mine the second you saw her.”

☆ The student tries to apologize, but Ellie’s already brushing past them and gripping the pram handle like it personally offended her.

☆ She doesn’t say anything for a moment, just walking fast, one hand protectively behind your back.

☆ When you glance at her, her jaw is clenched, and her eyes are distant and stormy.

☆ “You okay?” you ask softly.

☆ “No,” she snaps. “I hated that. I hated seeing that.”

☆ “I wasn’t flirting back,” you say.

☆ “I know,” she mutters. “But they looked at you like they had a chance. And I wanted to punch them through the pavement.”

☆ She takes you into her office instead of walking you to the car, locking the door behind you.

☆ “You look like a fantasy,” she says, her voice low, bitter. “And I hate that other people get to see it.”

☆ You smirk. “You mean you hate that they’re brave enough to flirt in front of you?”

☆ “Exactly,” she growls. “Because it means they don’t take me seriously enough.”

☆ “Or they’re just idiots,” you offer.

☆ “Maybe. But you’re mine. And I shouldn’t have to remind people of that every time you walk across campus.”

☆ She brings it up again at home—still stewing, still thinking about it.

☆ “You’re too pretty to be out there like that,” she says, half-joking, half-serious.

☆ “So I should wear a mask?” you tease.

☆ “Honestly? I’d feel better,” she mumbles, snuggling closer to Arnold on your chest.

☆ Aurora hears the story and yells, “Mommy’s scary!” and Ellie corrects her: “Protective.”

☆ She kisses your hand more that night—rubbing her thumb over your ring like a silent message.

☆ She considers printing a family photo and putting it on the front of her lecture slides.

☆ She’s uncharacteristically clingy for days—grabbing your waist while you cook, following you to the door when you go outside, randomly texting “mine.”

☆ She even updates her email signature to include “Partner to the hot woman with two kids. Yes, that one.”

☆ She mentally blacklists that student—no participation marks ever again.

☆ She references the incident in her next ethics lecture: “Know your boundaries, especially when they involve your professor’s spouse.”

☆ Starts inviting you to campus more often—not to keep you away from others, but to show you off while keeping you close.

☆ Insists you wear her oversized university hoodie on future visits.

☆ You catch her watching you from her classroom window once as you push the pram down the path. She waves. You blow a kiss. She turns pink.

☆ She buys you sunglasses she loves—wants you to wear them when you’re out because “you look hot, but you look taken.”

☆ Occasionally still brings it up just to hear you reassure her you belong to her and no one else.

☆ Starts ending lectures early on days she knows you’ll be around—wants more time just to see you on campus.

☆ Jokes about getting a shirt for you that says MILF—but taken by your professor.

☆ And every time you walk into her office now? She kisses you like a declaration. Like a warning. Like a promise: mine. always mine.

ellie period comfort fic pls? istg i hate this shit but love ur fluff fics KJAKSJHKA:cc

Comfort - (ellie williams x reader)

hi pookieeee!!! firstly thank youuuu, secondly so real. if i could get rid of it forever i would because joh the painnnnnnnn:(((( i hope you enjoy<3333

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts

warnings: none

Summary: in which she helped you

authors note: its midterm break rn and im so bored, all i do is sleep, eat and write. also do yall think i should make playlist with all the songs people send me as requests???

masterlist

Ellie was worried. Really fucking worried.

The two of you were supposed to meet at this new cat café Ellie recently discovered. She remembered showing you pictures that she found on Instagram, and how excited you were.

"Ellie there's ginger cats!" You squealed when you saw the pictures. "Can i hold them?"

"The website says you can"

You let out a scream of excitement and you hopped onto her, straddling her. Her hands immediately went to your hips.

You kissed her all over her face and she fucking giggled.

"Thank you baby!"

Now here she sat all alone with ginger cat on her lap waiting for you.

She sat there for over an hour waiting but you never showed up. She's called you so many times. She's texted you so many times.

I'm here (delivered)

when are you coming? (delivered)

Where are you? (delivered)

Baby are you ok? (delivered)

You're scaring me (delivered)

It wasn't like you to not respond, especially if the two of you had a date planned.

Maybe you were mad at her? Maybe you were ignoring her? Maybe you were in danger?

Fuck, so many possibilities.

She checked your location only to see that you were at your apartment.

What?

She immediately left the café, and she hopped into her car. She was speeding down the highway, praying that she wouldn't get pulled over.

Maybe you fainted, maybe you forgot, maybe you had someone over?

She was terrified.

She pulled into the driveway of the complex and she rushed up the stairs forgetting that the elevator was there. She ran to your door and she unlocked it with the key she had, not even bothering to knock because if you were in trouble then she needed to get there urgently.

She walked into into your apartment and it looked like it always has. It was clean, everything was in its place.

What the fuck?

She slowly walked through the apartment and she checked every room but there was no one. She just has your bedroom left. She slowly opened the door and there was a huge lump on your bed. She walked to the other side of the bed to see you fast sleep covered with a million blankets.

She let out a sigh of relief and she squatted down so she could see your face more clearly.

She gently touched your cheek and your nose scrunched at the sensation.

"Baby" she muttered quietly.

You slowly opened your eyes and she gave you a small smile.

"Hi"

"Are you ok?" Ellie asked with concern "you didn't reply to my texts"

you frown and you reached out to grab your phone from behind you. You switched it on you read all the texts and you eyes widened.

"we had a date?"

"Yeah"

"I'm sorry"

Ellie shook her head "what happened?"

you look away shyly

"baby talk to me"

"my period started and i decided to take a nap"

'that explains your mood swings' Ellie thought

"oh you poor thing" she got up and she kissed your forehead "does it hurt?"

"A little" you admitted.

"Let me help you"

you nodded at her request and Ellie immediately got to work. She went into your bathroom and she filled the tub with water. She back into your room where you quietly sat and waited for her. She came in and she gently grabbed your hand

"come on baby"

You got out of the bed following her. When you got into the bathroom and you saw the water filled tub you gave her a big hug. You took off your clothes and you gave you got in with a relived sigh.

Ellie took your clothes and she out it into the washer. She immediately went into the kitchen and she looked for every sweet treat she could find because she knew how much loved eating sweet this, especially at this time.

She changed your sheets, she got you pain meds and she sat on the edge of the bed waiting for you.

You walked out all clean, and you were immediately looking for Ellie. When you walked into the room, seeing the new sheets the snacks, you were suddenly overwhelmed.

"Oh Ellie" your eyes filled with tears.

"No baby don't cry" she got up and she walked over to you and she hugged you as you silently sobbed. The two of you stood together for a while as you found comfort in her arms.

"Lets lay down" she mumbled.

"Tonight we'll do whatever you want" she said as she cuddled up behind you.

"Can we watch Disney?"

"We can baby"

"can you also get me cheese?"

"Whatever you want baby"

you gave the arm that was wrapped around you a squeeze

"i like cheese"

" i know you do"

"thank you els, i love you"

"i love you too"

<3