Can We Please Get Some Milf Abby Or Ellie The Lesbians Who Like Older Women Are In A Drought

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.

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

☆ Ellie knows she’s going to marry you long before she tells you. She buys the ring three months into living together. Keeps it hidden in her desk drawer beside annotated books and letters from you.

☆ She proposes on the floor of your shared office. Not at a dinner, not with a crowd—just soft music, ink-stained fingers, and a whispered: “Be my always. My only. My mind, my muse, my wife.”

☆ The ring is engraved with a quote from your writing. Not hers. Yours. "You make knowledge feel like coming home."

☆ She asks your opinion on “proposals in literature” a week before. You think she’s researching. She’s just trying not to cry at the idea of you saying yes.

☆ When you say yes, she buries her face in your neck and shakes. Not from nerves. From relief. From awe. From the raw ache of being loved back.

☆ She starts referring to you as “my fiancée” constantly. In grocery stores. On campus. During panels. “My fiancée’s theory on this is actually quite relevant…”

☆ She changes your contact name to “Almost My Wife.” With 3 hearts and a lock emoji.

☆ She sleeps with her hand resting over yours every night. On your ring finger. She checks it like it’s her most sacred relic.

☆ She updates her entire academic bio to include you. “Currently lives with her partner, her muse, and greatest intellectual influence.”

☆ She teaches a lecture titled: “The Intersection of Intimacy and Intellectual Devotion” She’s talking about you. The class has no idea.

☆ Ellie wants a tiny wedding—just you, the vows, and a quiet lake. But if you want more, she’ll plan a thousand-guest celebration without blinking. “You say the word and I’ll build the world for you.”

☆ She insists on writing her vows by hand. In her favorite pen. On pages she slips under your pillow the night before.

☆ She practices saying “wife” alone in her car. Wife. Wife. Wife. She can’t stop smiling.

☆ She hides love notes inside the wedding checklist binder. You find one labeled: “Stop reading this and come kiss your future.”

☆ When you choose your dress, she sketches you in it from memory that same night. Adds it to her journal. Dates it. “The day I saw her and forgot how to breathe.”

☆ Her friends throw her a chill night in. But she sneaks off to call you every hour. “I can’t even pretend to want to be anywhere you’re not.”

☆ You write each other letters to read before the ceremony. She cries through hers. Has to reapply mascara. Still keeps the tear-streaked one folded in her breast pocket.

☆ She makes a playlist of songs that remind her of your earliest days. Plays it while getting ready. One track in, she’s sitting down, hand over heart, whispering: “Holy shit. I’m marrying her.”

☆ She starts dreaming of your last name beside hers on academic papers. No hyphen. No division. Just unity.

☆ You give her a watch as a pre-wedding gift. She whispers: “I’ll count every second I get with you.”

☆ When you walk down the aisle, Ellie mouths “mine.” Once. Quiet. Like a prayer.

☆ She cries when you hold her hands. Not one tear. A whole storm. Her lips tremble when you say her name.

☆ Her vows start academic and crumble into desperation. “I thought I understood devotion—until you. You rewrote me. I’m yours now. Completely.”

☆ Her fingers shake when she slips the ring on yours. But her voice never falters: “With this, I give you everything.”

☆ She kisses you like no one is watching. It’s not performative. It’s urgent. She’s been waiting forever.

☆ She refers to you as her wife every chance she gets. Out loud. On paper. In conversation. She beams every time.

☆ She can’t stop touching the ring on your hand. Kisses it. Spins it. Holds it during dinner. “Still feels like a dream.”

☆ She hangs your wedding photo above her desk. Right beside her degrees. “My greatest achievement.”

☆ She uses your wedding date as her new password. She’ll never forget it. She couldn’t.

☆ She journals the first 365 days of your marriage. Every little thing. Every breakfast. Every smile. Every time you say her name like it means everything.

☆ She changes her legal name just to have part of yours. No one expected it. But she wanted it.

☆She introduces herself at lectures as “Dr. Ellie Williams—but more importantly, a wife.” Every time. Her proudest title.

☆ She builds a library with your last name engraved at the entrance. It’s her gift to the university. Her devotion in bricks.

☆ She keeps a framed note that says “You said yes.” Next to the ring box. Beside her bed.

☆ When you fall asleep first, she whispers: “Married you. Won.”

☆ She keeps your wedding vows on her desk at all times. Reads them when she feels lost.

☆ She starts calling you “my forever” in texts. Even to herself. Especially when you're not around.

☆ She wears her ring when she lectures. And if she forgets it? She’ll cancel class. That’s how wrong it feels.

☆ She celebrates every mini-anniversary. First date, first kiss, first “I love you.” “Why wouldn’t we honor our history?”

☆ Her phone background is a photo of your hand in hers. Wedding rings shining. Sunlight catching on your fingers.

☆ She saves every note you leave her, even grocery lists. “Married girl handwriting,” she says with a grin. She signs every card, “your wife, your fool, your scholar.”

☆ When she wins awards, she thanks you before anyone. “For keeping my soul fed while I chase knowledge.”

☆ She keeps your last name on her lips like a spell. Soft. Reverent. Yours.

☆ She reads your vows aloud every year on your anniversary. Her voice always cracks by the second paragraph.

☆ She builds you a bench at the lake where you married. With a plaque that reads: “Where I became hers.”

☆ She keeps your bouquet dried and shadow-boxed in her office. Next to a note: “Every day since has been full bloom.”

☆ She still asks you to dance in the kitchen. Same song. Same rhythm. Same girl.

☆ She rereads the proposal letters every winter. Wears your old hoodie and says: “Still can’t believe.”

☆ And when she’s asked what love is, she says: “It’s when you look at someone and think: If I never wrote again, I’d still have said everything I ever needed—just by choosing her.”

What about Ellie taking readers first kiss?!?🤭 very nervous reader?? anxious somewhat but also super excitedd

Frostbite - (ellie williams x reader)

Hi anon!! i did it a little differently from your request, i hope you don't mind. I could not stop writing this, i might make a part 2 to this... I hope you enjoy <333

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts

Warning: none

Summary: in which you shared a special moment with her

authors note: did i mention Christmas in this because I'm excited for December? yes.

masterlist

Jackson was covered in thick layer of snow. Everyone was wearing puffer jackets, mittens and beanies hoping that the cold air wouldn't affect them. You walked down the street seeing how people were hanging Christmas lights, and how the children stared at everything in awe. The children made snowmen, and you knew that soon the town would be buzzing with people as they started to buy gifts for their families.

As beautiful as the holidays were, you hated it. Every year you'd end up alone in your house, listening to carols being sang. You're be filled with a emptiness that you can't explain.

You missed your family every year. You'd always imagine the type of life you'd be living if the outbreak never happened.

You sat in the local garden, shivering slightly when the cool breeze blew past you.

"There you are, i was looking for you"

you turned your head to that voice.

Her voice.

Ellie Williams.

You rolled your eyes "you need to stop looking for me"

"i missed you though" she pouted

You hated when she did this.

When she'd come after you with nice words, pretending like she cared.

Maybe she did and you didn't believe her. At this point you don't know how to feel.

When Ellie first arrived in Jackson the two of you were inseparable.

"We were bound to be friends" she'd always say.

Sleepovers, makeovers, baking, watching old movies, you did everything together.

But the older the two of you grew, things became different.

You both got new friends, new interests. You used to spend every waking second of the day together, now the two of you only awkwardly said hi when you saw each other in public.

You both had reasons for the sudden distance.

You thought Ellie had outgrown your friendship. One day she'd be smiling with you, the next day she'd barley look at you.

Ellie on the other hand, was in love with you.

She suddenly became self-aware of how she looked, how she smelled, how she spoke. She didn't want to embarrass herself. The best solution to her problem (or what she thought was right) was avoiding you.

Now that she's older she has realized that damage her avoiding you caused.

Years had gone by and the two of you lived separate lives, but Ellie's feelings for you never went away. She was stuck on you.

No matter how many girls she dated, kissed or hooked up with, she knew her heart belonged to you.

The older Ellie grew, the more attractive you found her and some days you're actually glad the friendship ended.

Imagine you were best friends with the girl you loved?

Both of you assumed your feelings were one sided. Until the rumors started.

It all started when a girl randomly slapped you across the face saying that Ellie moaned your name while they were doing the deed.

She's been avoiding you but she's moaning your name?

You weren't sure if you should feel flattened or disturbed.

You'd hear more stories as the years went on.

"She liked you" , "She misses you" You weren't sure if this was even true. Maybe it was all just a sick joke.

Even with all the drama you missed her. The friendship. The cheesy jokes, the stupid stories. You just missed her.

You were actually happy when Ellie slowly started coming back into your life. It went from just saying hi occasionally, to small life updates to full sleepovers.

It was just like old times.

Your heart ached for her even more, now you're getting close again. As much as you enjoyed the friendship, you couldn't help but want more.

You noticed her lingering touches, the small glances.

Maybe you were being delusional? Maybe you were reading into it?

You could feel a connection, but does she feel it too?

Maybe the rumors weren't true.

"You saw me earlier els, you cant miss me"

"I just love spending time with you"

fuck, how many girls has she said this to?

"i want to-" she went silent, not finishing her sentence.

She seemed nervous.

From the corner of your eye you see her moving closer to you, her arm wrapping around your shoulders.

You shiver at the close contact.

"Why are you so close?" You ask in a whisper

"I'm keeping you warm"

It was winter and its really fucking cold but suddenly you were hot. You were almost sweating because of the close proximity.

This is closest she's been in years.

Ellie leaned closer towards you, so close you could feel her breathe on your cheek. Your heart races, you felt comfortable in her presence, you palms felt clammy.

You were nervous.

Why does she make you nervous?

"Can i kiss you?" Ellie suddenly asked.

Without hesitation you said yes.

Before your lips crashed into hers, your body turned hot, your breathing came out in short breaths. You turned to her and and her hand gently touched your cheek, you leaned in first.

Since when are you bold? Were you really this desperate?

As soon as your lips made contact, you felt butterflies explode in your stomach. She pulled you closer by the waist and you grabbed her face bringing her closer than she already was.

Your heart was beating so fucking fast, you assumed she could probably feel it.

"Your lips are...cold" you softly chuckle as your fingers brushed against your lips.

Did this just happen?

You were suddenly hyperaware of your surroundings.

Did you breath smell ok? Did you kiss ok?

Fuck now you were really nervous.

Ellie didn't respond and there was a comfortable silence between the two of you.

Ellie spoke up eventually "I've always wanted to do that"

You stayed silent blushing at her words.

"Do you want to come back to... my place so we can talk about us.... and i know you hate being alone during the holidays so can we perhaps... i don't know... go?"

"Yeah... I'd like that"

<3

First time using this so sorry if it’s worded weird I’d love if you did a fic with in hell by Japanese breakfast

Also she kinda sounds like Ellie if that makes sense

𝐈𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥: 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

This story is based off the song In Hell by Japanese breakfast, If you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: Jackson!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:)

Warning: murder, blood, violence, revenge and death

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

Also this story was requested by the beautiful @iceylemonqueen ! Thank you so much for requesting it (and yeah I agree it does sound like Ellie)

With my luck you'll be dead within the year

I've come to expect it

There's nothing left to fear, at least there's that

Face to face, and at my hands

I snowed you in with hydrocodone

Layer by layer, 'til you disappear

Loosing Joel was one of the hardest things Ellie has ever experienced. Watching him get brutally murdered traumatized her. After Joel’s death Ellie’s obsession with killing Abby took over her life. Ellie became heartless, more brutal, cold. Abby consumed her thoughts.

“Abby Abby Abby Abby Abby Abby” kept on repeating in her head like a mantra. Her goal in life was to kill Abby. Get rid of the person that caused her so much pain. She had to get rid of the person that took Joel away.

Her Joel. Her father figure. Her best friend.

On her journey in search for Abby, she come across you. She should’ve killed you. But no. Something inside her said keep her. And that exactly what Ellie did. She kept you.  You had gotten lost from your group, and you begged Ellie to help you back to them, and instead of leaving you or killing you like she normally would, Ellie said yes.

 The voices in her head that keeps on telling her to kill Abby, get her, make her pay for what she’s done- went silent. When you were with her she was at peace. She could sleep for the first time in months because of you. She felt like she could live a normal life with you. You were someone worth fighting for, someone to protect and look after. Everything that Ellie has done, the amount of people she killed didn’t matter because when she was with you, her dark thoughts and guilt went away.

For the first time since going on this journey Ellie felt fear. Riley, Sam, Tess, Joel- they all died because of her. At this point Ellie waited for you to die, because every time she gets close to someone they leave. But you didn’t. You stayed with her for months. Not judging her when she brutally kills someone.

What is she going to do if something happened to you?

One night when you and Ellie lay under the starts, Ellie realized that you weren’t going to be with her forever. She remembered that you wanted to get back to your group. A small pout formed on her lips, her brows furrowed she quietly said:

“you know you can stay”

“huh” you questioned raising a brow at what Ellie said

“what are you talking about- “

“with me” she said quickly. “You can stay with me I’ll keep you safe” As soon as those words left Ellie’s mouth she regretted them, fear settled in her stomach:

What happens if she can’t keep you safe?

 You sat up giving her a small smile “I’d like that Ellie”. As soon as she saw you smile all fear she felt went away.

“With my luck I thought you’d be dead in less than a year” Ellie laughed, you let out a small chuckle “I’m not leaving anytime soon els” you promised.

If only she didn’t believe you

Hell is finding someone to love

And I can't have you

Hell is finding someone to love

And I can't see you again

Ellie sat in the cold water as she watched Abby push the boat. Tears ran down her face.

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t kill Abby because it will never bring Joel back. She wasn’t worth killing. “Just go” Ellie sobbed as she continued to sit in the water. Everything was quite for a while, and as Ellie looked up she saw Abby standing in front of her, holding something. Ellie’s eyes landed on the small piece of silver jewelry and she felt sick. It was yours.

After you agreed to stay with Ellie, the two of you found a farm house. And Ellie couldn’t be happier. You were with her, living the life she had dreamed of for years.

“You know our life is like those cliché romance books” you said one night. Ellie would never admit it but she liked living this cheesy cliché life with you.

When Tommy came around and told Ellie about Abby’s whereabouts, she knew she had to go. And that was her biggest mistake.

 She left you alone.

 As Abby stood in front of her holding the silver necklace you wore Ellie knew something happened to you. She gently took the chain, and started up at Abby, her eyes filled with guilt.

“What did you do to her?” Ellie asked, trying to stay calm. Abby opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before she let out a quiet “I’m sorry”. And Ellie saw red.

Soon after Abby’s screams filled the quiet air as Ellie punch her. Blood filled the water and Ellie’s hand felt numb but she didn’t fucking care.

Now here she stood in front of the farm house the two of you shared. She doesn’t know if she killed Abby, she could care less. She wore the necklace rushing back to you, to make sure her worst nightmare didn’t come true.

And as soon as Ellie opened the front door the smell of a decomposing body hit her. “No” she whispered. “Please baby, please be ok” she begged as she searched around the house for you. And when she found you, she wasn’t met with the beautiful girl she fell in love with, she was met with a corpse, a room filled with blood splatter and bugs.

This is why Ellie doesn’t fall in love. This is why Ellie doesn’t trust anyone. Because every time she finds some they die.

And most people deserve death, but you didn’t. Ellie let out a scream as she grabbed you, not caring for the smell, she brought your cold lifeless body to her chest hugging you, “I’m so sorry” she spoke into your hair.

Wheeled you in, laid on your side

I cried and cried and at my signal

They stopped your heart and then you died

And under the fluorescence, into this still room

Where no-one ever tells you just how clinical death looks

And I can't unsee it, the two shots it took

Ellie went back to Jackson. And she took your body with her. As soon as Maria and Tommy saw her limping back with a girl’s dead body they were concerned.

“Ellie-“ Tommy started but Ellie extended out her arms to Maria , giving your cold lifeless body to her

“please” she whispered, “please bring her back”

 Maria and Tommy looked at each other knowing, by the looks of your body you’ve been dead for months. But still Maria took you to the clinic and fulfilling Ellie’s wishes.

 “Ellie what happened” Tommy asked

“I want to see my girl” Ellie said completely ignoring the question Tommy had just asked. And with a sigh Tommy took her to you.

“Ellie we tried” Maria started “but she’s not coming back”

“Leave” Ellie said. And as soon as they left loud sobs filled the room. Elle walked over to where you lay, climbing into the bed next to you.

“I love so much baby” she said over and over again. And for hours Ellie spoke to you, telling you stories, telling you her hopes and dreams. She knew you were never going to wake up again, so she had to spend as much time with you, as she possibly could.

She’ll never be able to unsee you, she’ll never be able to move on.

“If I ever lose you, I’d surly loose myself” Ellie sang as she gave you a kiss on the forehead. She picked up her backpack walking out of the clinic. No one warns you about death. No one warns you about the pain of losing a loved one.

After losing Joel, Ellie though she experienced pain but after losing you, Ellie had a taste of what hell felt like.

Authors note: Once again thank you for requesting this fae! I love you sm! Remember you are loved and to always be kind.... feel free to request anything!

yours truly,

Zia<3

Can we please have yandere Ellie

To Be Near You - ellie williams x reader

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

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

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

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

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

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled. And Ellie’s obsession twisted tighter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She just had to make you see it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that was it. Ellie was in.

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

But then you started talking about someone. A guy.

A classmate. A friend, you said.

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

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

That night, Ellie followed him home.

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

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

He wasn’t good enough for you.

She would be patient. But not forever.

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

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

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

All for him.

And he didn’t show.

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

You smiled anyway. You always did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A message.

A warning.

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

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

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

Ellie put a hand gently on your shoulder.

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

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

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

It was working.

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

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

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

You shouldn’t have gotten in.

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

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

“Ellie, turn around.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The days began to bleed together.

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

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

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

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

She remembered everything.

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

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

You hated that part.

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

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

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

She started brushing your hair.

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

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

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

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

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

“This is everything I built… for you.”

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

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

And you did.

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

Not a break.

A splinter.

You stopped counting the days.

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

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

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

Now, you didn’t scream.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You saw her.

Ellie.

All-consuming. Ever-present. Everything.

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

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

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

You didn’t cry. You didn’t flinch.

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

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

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

She kissed your temple.

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

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

Obsession disguised as love. Love tainted with control.

And you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You believed her. You still did.

Now, she was too happy.

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

You nodded every time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the worst came next.

She came back from town covered in blood.

You had asked—trembling, afraid, already knowing.

And Ellie… she didn’t lie.

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

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

“I did it for us.”

You didn’t scream. You didn’t cry.

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

You realized something then:

You weren’t staying because you were trapped.

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

Twisted. Devoted. Terrifying.

But yours.

I need her so bad

MILF ABBY WITH READER WHO HATES KIDS HC — abby anderson

description — milf!abby, reader who isnt that great with kids, age gap, reader is around mid twenties and abby is late thirties going on forty, smut, mdi !!,

authors note — literally all my creds and inspo goes to @elliespassagerprincess i literally love their milf abby series pls go read it !!

— You and your friends know that you do not have a single motherly instinct in your bones, you and kids do not mix well together.

— This one time you were just strolling while shopping and a toddler came up to say hi to you and you just stared at it wondering what to do.

— If there’s a child screaming at the top of their little lungs you literally give it a death glare.

— You also call children “it” and make everyone laugh every time you talk about a kid.

— But if it wasn’t for Abby’s six-year-old daughter Melanie who came up to you one day at a your local grocery store crying like snot bubbling at her nose and she looked sticky trying to hold your hand you wouldn’t have met your future milf wife.

“Oh, uh hi— why are you crying?” You let the little child grab your pointer finger as you tried to hard to fight your inner demons from the stickiness of her little hand.

“I— I can’t find my mommy.” She used her other hand to wipe the snot off her face, you could feel every nerve in your body cringe. You felt bad for the thing but jesus why are kids so fucking sticky.

You and the kid sat on one of the benches inside the store, you bought her some candy to make it stop crying and it worked. You did inform an employee that there was a lost kid, they spoke on the intercom after telling you that if the parent isn’t here in a certain amount of time they would call law enforcement.

“So, what’s your name?” You pinched your eyebrows together looking at the small being next to you devouring the ring pop like her life depended on it.

“Melanie but all my friends call me Melly.” She gave you a toothy smile well … she was missing majority of her teeth so half toothy smile?

“That’s … nice? You have friends?” She shook her head, her two little braids looked like she got into a street fight.

“Yeah, a lot like a lot of friends, what’s your na—“ She was cut off by a woman’s voice calling out for her.

“Melanie!” Both of your eyes shot up at the… holy fucking fuck she was breath taking.

— You found out that her name is Abby and she has a little escape artist for a child, she hugged you tightly with those giant arms thanking you for keeping her baby safe.

— Abby was truly taken back by how beautiful you are, she was quick to tell you she’ll repay you and managed to get your number while doing so.

— You guys ended up bonding really fast, even though you two were almost complete opposites she was so fascinated by you.

— She invited you over to dinner at her house and fuck was she loaded, not like you were in it for the money but damn must be nice.

— She genuinely found it so amusing how you would interact with Melanie, treating her like a little adult. You weren’t the type to use baby words towards kids you just spoke to them.

— Melanie really resembled Abby to the T, she had her mom’s blue eyes, freckles, the cutest nose but she had blonder hair, you just assumed it was from the dad.

— After months of basically hanging out with them you guys felt so inseparable, you still would give concerning expressions whenever Melanie would do something weird.

— Abby was falling in love you, whenever all three of you would watch a movie that Melanie always picked out and yes you did argue with a six year old about picking movies she would just have the urge to grab your face and kiss you.

— For halloween you bought Melanie an inflatable dinosaur costume with a pink tutu, you literally were crying from how silly she looked holding Abby’s hand.

— Abby was so reluctant to make the first move, scared that she was too old for you but little did she know how much it turned you on that she was older.

— You decided to ask Abby out on a date, you called her up while you were at home, heart beating out of your chest when she said yes.

— The date was at the arcade, cheesy but Abby always won you prizes every time you guys went with Melly. She beat at you literally every single game and being competitive you just glared at her.

— Melanie was at a sleepover at her friend’s home so you and Abby had the place to yourselves, after the date you guys were chilling in her kitchen Abby finally had the courage to kiss you.

“Can I please kiss you?” She looked at you with those pleading eyes, a slight whine to her words.

NSFW mdi NSFW mdi NSFW

— She pinned your back against the counter, her hand cupping the side of your face, the kiss felt so warm but soon became greedy.

— She carried you to her room, your legs wrapped around her waist, arms around her neck as you drove her fucking crazy kissing on her neck like that.

— Abby has a Daddy kink, she had her strap settled deep in your drooling cunt, legs on her shoulder, thrusting so fucking deliciously making you claw at her arms.

“Mmmgh— oh fuck Abby..” Your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, knuckles white from the grip you had on her arms.

“Daddy, call me fucking Abby again and I wont let you cum.” She slapped your face, grabbing it with her hands squeezing your cheeks together.

God this wasn’t the sweet, motherly Abby you knew but some sex god who would fuck you so stupid it left you an incoherent mess.

— She had crazy stamina, had you in every position, face down with your ass up, riding her cock, your back pressed against her front as she spread your legs open drilling your bruised and aching pussy.

— She was so mean, she mocked your moans, bit your skin, slapped your tearful face every time you stopped looking at her. You couldn’t get enough of this side of her.

— She over stimulated you so much you were sobbing, trembling every time she would touch you, your legs shook violently.

Abby had her arms wrapped securely around your thighs, spreading them open so wide. Her tongue lapping you up, sucking on your puffing clit, sliding her tongue inside your sore cunt.

“Daddy please! Too much, s’too much, too much” You squealed, crying out trying to push her head off of you.

— After long hours of her using you, she was so quick to turn her motherly instincts back on. Kissing your face so sweetly, her eyes filled with worry that she pushed you over the edge.

— You reassured her that it was the best fucking sex you’ve ever had. She started a bath for you, sitting right behind you as she massaged your aching body, running her fingers over the love bites she left scattered on your body.

— She held you so tightly as you both had fallen asleep on her amazing bed.

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"

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

☆ Ellie doesn't just accept the job—she calculates how long it'll be until you graduate. She marks the date on her calendar and labels it “her freedom”. Yours, not hers.

☆ She visits the city three times before committing Not for the faculty or salary. To check if it’s somewhere you could be happy.

☆ She only signs the lease when she finds an apartment with room for both your desks. Not “a place for your things”—a place that makes space for your mind.

☆ She leaves notes in your old books before she moves Sticky tabs hidden on pages: “I’ll be thinking of you here.” You find them one by one while she’s gone.

☆ She makes you a Spotify playlist titled ‘One Month Closer to You’ Every song is about longing, intellect, tension. She updates it weekly.

☆ Her coworkers think she’s engaged Because she always calls you “my person,” “my muse,” “the smartest girl I know.” They just assume.

☆ When you arrive, she’s waiting outside the airport with a stack of books. No signs, no balloons. Just texts you: “Got these for you. Hurry. I missed you too loud.”

☆ She can’t stop hovering around you as you unpack Helping, folding, placing things like they’re sacred. “This goes here, right? I want it how you want it.”

☆ She buys you your own shelf in her office Not for books—for your brain. “Put anything here. I want to look up and think of you.”

☆ She sets alarms to remind herself to text you affirmations while she’s on campus

“I love your brain.”

“I reread your thesis again. Still obsessed.”

“Is it normal to miss someone this much in the next room?”

☆ She starts citing you before you publish anything

In class: “As my partner once said…”

In her drafts: “(See private conversation, 3am, living room floor).”

☆ She smells your shirts when you're gone Keeps one in her drawer at work. Wears it when she misses you too hard to focus.

☆ Her computer background is a photo of your annotations Not even your face—your thoughts. The page you marked with “why does this hurt so good?” and 7 underlines.

☆ She traces the rim of your teacup absentmindedly while she works You're not even in the room. But she still needs to touch something that touched you.

☆ She recreates your old dorm setup in the guest room In case you ever miss it. In case she misses the version of you from back then.

☆ She writes down everything you say in heated academic debates Even when it ends in silence, she jots it down and rereads it before bed.

☆ She insists you help decorate her office on campus. Lets you hang art. Places your poetry beside her degrees. “Now it’s complete.”

☆ Her colleagues start quoting you in meetings Because she talks about you so much, they start thinking in your voice.

☆ When you wake up groggy and smart-mouthed, she lights up “I’ve missed that mouth,” she’ll grin. “Say something else unreasonably brilliant.”

☆ She buys you matching pens “I think better when you’re writing too.”

☆ She brushes your hair behind your ear mid-argument Just to keep you talking. She needs your voice uninterrupted.

☆ She kisses the back of your hand before every academic panel. Her ritual. For luck. For grounding. For you.

☆ When you call her “Professor Williams” in public, her ears go pink. But later? She whispers, “Say it again.” Lower. Softer.

☆ She kisses you when you’re reading—just to taste the words on your lips Always mid-sentence. “You’re intoxicating,” she mumbles. “Keep going.”

☆ She makes love to you like she’s defending a thesis Point. Counterpoint. Proof. Passion. She takes her time—citing every reason she needs you.

☆ She cries when you cook dinner your first night Not because it’s good. Because it’s you, barefoot in her kitchen, laughing like this is your forever.

☆ You catch her staring at your reflection in the window “You look like a poem in a glass case,” she says. “Too good for this world.”

☆ She builds you a journal archive. Every notebook you fill, she catalogs. Dates, topics, favorite lines. No one’s allowed to touch them but her.

☆ She keeps your texts in a folder titled “primary source.”

☆ Her entire lecture about literary eros is built around your first kiss. The students have no idea. But she’s trembling by the end.

☆ She wears your perfume on her scarf. Just a spritz. For when she has to spend long hours away.

☆ She rereads your old essays with tea on Sundays. Like scripture. Like they’re holy.

☆ She corrects her students gently when they say something you’d challenge “Actually, my partner once made a really good point about that…”

☆ She keeps your graduation photo in her wallet Next to her ID. Smiles every time she pulls it out.

☆ When she misses you, she opens your drawer and organizes it. Just to feel close. Just to feel useful. Just to do something with her hands.

☆ She carves your initials in the underside of her desk Childish. Obsessive. True.

☆ She kisses the corner of your mouth when you’re mid-paper. “You make academia look so damn good,” she whispers.

☆ She proposes with a first edition of your favorite book. The ring hidden in a cut-out. Inside the cover: “You changed everything I thought I knew. Say yes?”

☆ She dreams of your children reciting your papers Not hers—yours. “Can you imagine them growing up in this house full of your words?”

☆ She records herself reading your poetry out loud Plays it when she travels. Falls asleep to the sound of you.

☆ She buys you a necklace with her initials—written in your handwriting. “I want to be yours in every way.”

☆ She thanks you at every speaking event. “None of this exists without her.”

☆ Her students ship you both like a novel couple. You walk into her class once and someone audibly gasps.

☆ You say something offhanded like, “I love your mind,” and she can’t function for hours. She sits at her desk, head in hands, overwhelmed. You undo her with so little.

☆ She keeps your first handwritten note inside her wallet. Folded, fading. Still the most important thing she owns.

☆Her favorite outfit is whatever you like best. She’ll ask what you think of a shirt and wear it to lectures three days in a row after you smile at it.

☆ She practices your name in different languages She says it like it’s sacred. She wants to know how it sounds in every tongue.

☆ She builds a Google calendar for your moods. Just so she can anticipate what kind of comfort to give you on tough days.

☆ She tells you she loved you the moment you challenged her in class “It wasn’t the words. It was the way you meant them. The way you looked at me like I should know better.”

☆ When people ask what home is, she doesn’t say a city. She says your name. Always. “I moved for her. I’d move again. A thousand times.”

HEYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUURRRRR

Hi queeeeen!! <3333333

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:)