Would It Be Possible For You To Do Anything About Dina? Totally Fine If Not, I Just Never See Anything

just found this song a week or so ago, and i can’t help but think of ellie every time i listen to it.. it’s called ‘she calls me daddy’ by king mala… if you could write a fic based on it i would fxcking love it♡

She calls me daddy - (ellie williams x reader)

Hi anon! Firstly this song fucking slaps??? It low-key reminds me of moth to a flame by the weeknd just lesbian edition. Anyway I hope you enjoy <3333

This story is based off the song She calls me daddy by King Mala! If you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

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

Warnings: cheating, men, homophobic parents

Summary: You might be engaged but you still always go back to Ellie

wc: ????

She's a little bit psycho

But she follows

When I call in the middle of the night

It might be a little superficial

She plays with the boys

But she comes home to me

Little fucked up but I think it's official

'Cause she might be your girl

But she's calling me daddy

"Hi Els" she heard you talk with a hushed voice. A smile spread onto Ellies face at the sound of your voice.

"Can you come over? I miss you" Ellie admitted.

"I miss you too" she could hear the smile in your voice.

God why did you have to be so fucking cute?

Ellie couldn't even see your face, but she can imagine the blush that spreads across your cheeks. The way your eyes crinkle anytime she says anything to you.

She knew the affect she had on you, but if only you knew what you were doing to her. It's embarrassing to even think about it.

"I'll try to come..." you started.

Excitement filled Ellie, as she thought of everything the two of you could do. You could watch a movie, or she could do your hair.

Oh! Maybe you can paint her nails-

"but Josh is here so I'm not sure" you finished your sentence.

The joy Ellie felt moments ago fell flat at the mention of your fiancè's name. She wanted to groan whenever you mentioned him in any conversation.

Why do you care so much? You don't even love him.

You quickly said goodbye when Josh called you to join him and all Ellie could do was wish she was him.

He gets to spend time with you. He gets to see you everyday, he gets to spend the rest of his life with you.

What does Ellie get? A few hours with you before you are called by your dear future husband. Hushed calls and quick texts.

No, Ellie didn't deserve this at all, but yet she stayed because she couldn't get enough of you.

As much as Ellie pretends to be in control of your relationship, you were the one that had the final say. Whatever you wanted, she would do.

It's kind of fucked up if you think about it.

The way you're playing the perfect daughter and the perfect wife while you would always come back to Ellie that same night. How you would take pictures with your fiancé, and soon after send Ellie pictures no one but your so called spouse should see.

It never bothered Ellie. Because she always knew that you belonged to her, and even if you were getting married nothing would change that.

She's mine

She wears a collar with my name

Secretive but not ashamed

She's mine

But I never tie her down

They always come around

Mine

Does he know that you call Ellie when he falls asleep? Does he know the type of pictures you send her? Does he fucking know how bad he is in bed?

Ellie wonders if Josh suspects anything. Hee probably wouldn't. He's so fucking stupid anyway.

He doesn't even know what your favorite color is. But Ellie does. Ellie knows everything about you.

The amount of times you've cried over your math homework. The amount of stuffed animals you had in your room.

Did Josh even know how much you loved Barbie when you were younger? Of course he doesn't.

Ellie let out a sigh when she saw your phone light up.

She gently reached over your sleeping figure, to grab your phone, trying not to wake you up.

When she turned the phone on, a picture of you kissing Josh appeared as your lockscreen. Ellie gagged at the photo, before she checked who sent you a message.

It was from the "love of your life", the message read 5 simple words: "when are you coming home?".

Ellie scoffed when she saw the text.

Is he really this fucking clingy?

Ellie replied "no! Sorry baby, I'm staying over at a friends house!"

Josh didn't even ask who. All he did was left you on seen.

Wow.

'Fucking nonchalant bitch' Ellie thought to herself.

She put your back onto the side of your bed as she lay down to face you. Ellie gently brought her hand up to remove the hair from your face.

Was this going to be it? Were you going to lie to your family your whole life?

Ellie didn't know the answers to these questions. And she knew even if she asked you, you would always reply with "I don't know Ellie" or "I don't want to think about it".

What happens if your affair gets exposed? Do you guys get to live a happily ever after?

In the past, before Josh was even in the picture, you and Ellie faced this same issue.

The two of you were madly in love but you could never be together. Everything you did was in secret.

Ellie liked to imagine that the reason why she never asked you out was because she could never stay committed to one person.

Back in college, Ellie remembered how'd she'd bring a different girl back to her dorm almost every night. But as soon as the sun rises she'd chase the girl out and she'd end up going to your dorm to cuddle.

She would always assure herself, that the reason she never told you back then was because she thought she would cheat on you. Like she did in all her previous relationships. But she knew that was a lie.

She'd been in love with you since the sixth grade, she was just in denial of her sexuality and she was terrified of your parents.

Ellie continued to stare at your sleeping face, as the light from the moon shown in.

If only she knew the situation the two of you would be in now, then she would've fought harder for you back then.

You should see their face when they finally realize

That she plays with the boys

But she comes onto me

Wanna change her mind but I get unwise

'Cause she might be your girl

But she's calling me daddy

You always knew you liked girls. Ever since you were a little girl. Your parents believed that only man and women could fall in love with eachother. You couldn't tell utter the word "gay" infront of them.

How were you supposed to live a lie? How were you supposed to pretend?

You fell in love with Ellie when you were 15.

The day the two of you lay on picnic blanket eating dry pieces of bread because Ellie forgot to bring toppings. You remembered you told her a stupid knock knock joke and Ellie laughed at it.

She always laughed at everything you said. Even when it wasn't funny. You looked at her that day, as tears fell from her eyes at the amount of laughing she did.

You realize you liked her a little more as a friend.

In a gay way.

When you were 17 Ellie kissed you.

And god you thought it was magical.

It felt like fireworks exploding. The world around the two of you blur as your lips passionately danced together. It felt like how all the romance novels described it.

You knew since that day, since that kiss, that what you and Ellie had was real.

The two of you started dating soon after.

Your biggest fear was that your parents would've found out. You'd be sent to boarding school, Ellie would be taken away from you and you'd be treated like shit for loving someone.

Unfortunately your worst fears soon became a reality.

Your mother had walked in while you and Ellie shared a quick kiss, and all hell broke loose.

Your mother ran in yelling, pulling you away from Ellie.

She blamed Ellie for making you this way. She used to say Ellie brainwashed you. But if only she knew. If only she believed you when you told her, this was love.

Your mother held you in her arms, as you reached out for Ellie. And soon after that, Ellie was kicked out and banned to come to your house or anywhere near you.

You were sent to boarding school and for the rest of your life your parents made you feel like shit, they made you feel worthless because of your sexuality till Josh came along.

The only reason you agreed to even consider getting married to him was so that your parents thought that you would be "healed".

After you were sent to boarding school you lost contact with the women you loved. All the men you've been with never compared to Ellie.

And even when the two of you reunited, you both knew your story wasn't over.

The love you shared was stronger than anything.

And as you stood infront of the mirror, wearing your wedding gown, all you could do was imagine that Ellie was the one waiting for you and not Josh.

In the mess

She's responsible

Change her mind

It's impossible

Close your mouth

You, catch a fire

Watch the girl get

What she likes

Ellie stood up as the wedding music started playing.

The crowd erupted in cheers as you walked down the isle.

Ellie looked toward your husband to be, the grin on his face made her sick. She wanted nothing more than to get a chair and to hit him in the face.

Ellie watched as your father left you with your husband. That should be her standing there. Not Josh. You should be the one walking to her, she should be the one you wore that dress for.

But yet you stayed true to your parents and you chose to walk down the isle to get married to someone you felt nothing for.

She watched as she fake smiled, she watched as you said I do and as you said your vows.

"You are mine for a lifetime" Josh spoke as he finished his vows. No you weren't. You weren't his.

She watched the lips that she has kissed so many times kiss another person. The pit Ellie felt in her stomach grew heavier, it felt like she could vomit at any moment.

The second you and your husbands lips touched the crowd cheered and screamed. Chants of your new surname filled the room as you locked hands and faced the crowd with your new husband.

A smile spread across your beautiful face, as the two of you started exiting the church.

You and Ellie locked eyes, as you made your way out of church. You gave her a small wink. A smile spread onto Ellies face.

That wink gave her hope.

Just because you got married doesn't mean you have to stop seeing eachother.

You've always been hers.

You don't need a ring to prove it. You don't need a wedding to prove your love for eachother.

Even though you were married Ellie had nothing to worry about, because she knew at the end of the day you'd be calling her daddy.

Authors note: a less depressing one for the first time in a while lmfao, but don't worry your regular scheduled angst will return in my next post;).... remember you are loved and to always be kind, my requests are also always open. I love you all!

Yours truly,

Zia <3

Are you interested im doing something with the song she by tyler the creator ft Frank ocean?

Could be for ellie or abby, but its really giving dark vibes of lesbian yearning 😭

Thank you!

She - ellie williams x reader

hi anon! i am totally interested!! id write whatever you ask:) i went quite dark with this one... lmk if you want one with a happy ending:) i deadass got carried away with writing this lmao

this story is based off the song She by Tyler the Creator. If you can listen to the song as you're reading:)

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

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

HUGE WARNING: 18+ MDNI: Mentions of explicit sexual content (restraints, biting, choking, rough sex), obsession, psychological manipulation, mental deterioration, dubious/blurred consent in emotional and sexual contexts, Stockholm syndrome, stalking, kidnapping, murder, suicide, obsessive-compulsive tendencies, paranoia, delusions, violence

Summary: 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.

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.

You moved into the safe zone two months ago. Quiet, kind, polite. You kept to yourself, helped at the medical tent, smiled when people passed. Ellie noticed you right away.

Not because you stood out—at least not to most. But Ellie saw the way your hands trembled slightly when you stitched a wound. How your eyes scanned the environment like you were waiting for someone to come back. Or leave.

She liked that.

She liked the way your window lit up at night, a soft amber glow behind sheer curtains. You read. Sometimes you cried. Once, you laughed—just once—and she pressed her forehead against her window across the alley and watched your lips form around a sentence. She imagined you reading to her. Her name in your mouth. Her name in your bed.

She told herself she was just watching. But then it became routine.

She started to learn the rhythm of your days. When you left. What time you came back. What you wore. What you ate. The exact second you turned off your lamp and slid under the covers. She’d stand in the shadows across the street, chewing on the skin of her thumb, eyes locked on that sliver of light between your curtains.

Ellie didn’t smile much anymore. Not unless she thought of you. And even then, it wasn’t a smile. It was something darker—sharper. Something that clenched her stomach like a fist and made her palms itch.

She wasn’t supposed to feel this way. You weren’t hers. But that didn’t stop her.

You first met her when she came in with a deep cut on her forearm. Self-stitched, jagged. Her expression unreadable.

“You should’ve come in earlier,” you told her, gently cleaning the wound. “This could’ve gotten infected.”

She just stared. “Didn’t want to waste your time.”

You paused. “You knew it would be me?”

Her jaw flexed. “Yeah.”

You smiled. Ellie didn’t.

But later that night, she traced the shape of your smile in the fogged glass of her bedroom window. Over and over until her finger bled from the cold.

Ellie started showing up more. Dropping off supplies. Asking if you needed help moving crates. Pretending to look for something just outside your tent.

“I heard you play guitar,” you said once, handing her a bandage kit. “Do you still?”

“Only in my head.”

You wanted to ask what that meant. But her eyes were dark that day. Watching you like she already had the answer.

You didn’t know she was in your hallway the night you cried into your pillow. That she sat just outside your door, back against the wood, fists clenched, listening.

You didn’t know she stole one of your gloves when it dropped outside the infirmary. That she kept it in her jacket pocket. That she touched it every time someone else looked at you too long.

You didn’t know you were the reason someone disappeared.

That guy—tall, arrogant, always flirting—he hadn’t shown up in over a week. No one knew where he went. Ellie did.

She watched him follow you to your door one night. Heard you laugh nervously when he touched your arm. Saw the way you recoiled when he leaned in too close.

Ellie followed him into the woods the next day. Said nothing. Did what she had to.

For you.

One night, you came home late. The infirmary was overwhelmed. Blood on your shirt. You were tired, broken, still so beautiful. Ellie watched you through the crack in your curtain.

She saw you undress.

Saw your bare skin in that soft yellow light. Saw you pause in front of the mirror, fingertips grazing your ribs like you didn’t recognize yourself.

Ellie’s breath hitched. Her hand trembled. She pressed it to the windowpane like she could reach through.

You looked sad. You looked lonely. You looked like you needed someone.

Her.

The first time you saw her watching, it wasn’t on purpose.

You pulled your curtain aside to close the window and there she was—across the alley, standing in the dark. Still. Unmoving. Eyes glowing faintly under the porch light.

You froze. She didn’t.

She just tilted her head. Slowly. Like a predator curious if its prey would run.

You didn’t.

You closed the curtain. Heart pounding. Skin hot. You should’ve been afraid.

But you weren’t.

Ellie showed up the next morning like nothing happened. Gave you a thermos of coffee. Smiled—for the first time. You stared at her fingers as they brushed yours. Cold. Calloused. Familiar. You let her in that day.

She sat in your chair. Looked at your books. Touched the necklace on your shelf like she already knew its weight.

“You’ve been watching me,” you said, not a question.

Ellie blinked. “Yeah.”

You swallowed. “Why?”

She stood up. Walked toward you. Stopped just short of touching.

“Because I love you.”

You should’ve laughed. Should’ve run. Should’ve screamed.

But all you said was: “Since when?”

Ellie’s voice dropped. “Since the first time you turned on that fucking light.”

You kissed her. You didn’t mean to. Or maybe you did. Maybe you were just as broken.

It was desperate. All teeth and breath and guilt. She gripped your waist like she was afraid you’d disappear. You gripped her jaw like you wanted to know her shape from the inside out.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet.

It was dangerous. But it felt like breathing after drowning.

Now she’s in your bed almost every night.

She never stays till morning. Always slips out before the sun rises, back to her shadows, back to her window.nBut her scent lingers on your sheets.

And when you close your eyes, you feel her watching.

And when you open them, she’s there. She always is.

The first time you tried to distance yourself, Ellie didn’t speak.

You had turned to her in bed, barely whispering, “I think I need space.”

Your voice cracked. You hated how small it sounded.

Ellie didn’t flinch. Didn’t argue. Just nodded. Kissed your shoulder and slipped out like always. But that night, your window stayed open.

She didn’t watch you through it. She was already inside.

She started leaving things in your house. Quietly, deliberately. A book you mentioned once—resting on your nightstand. Her hoodie folded on the arm of your couch. A note in your handwriting that you didn’t remember writing.

“You miss me.”

You found it under your pillow.

Your hands trembled as you stared at it. You told yourself you were imagining things. You told yourself it was just coincidence. You told yourself Ellie wouldn't do that.

But deep down, you knew better.

People started asking if you and Ellie were together. You always paused too long before answering. Smiled too tightly. Said, “It’s complicated.”

Ellie never used that word. She said, “She’s mine.”

She wasn’t just watching anymore.

She was following.

You’d leave work and catch a flicker of her hoodie in the crowd. You’d step outside at night and feel her behind you. You’d dream of her fingers wrapped around your wrist, yanking you back into her.

One night, you turned the corner too fast and slammed into her chest. She didn’t apologize.

Her hands gripped your arms.

“I didn’t know you were—” you started.

“Yes, you did,” she said. Her voice was a blade.

You didn’t move. Neither did she.

The tension curled around your throat like smoke. You wanted to run. You wanted to stay. You wanted her to tear you apart.

Inside her mind, it only made sense:

She knew what you liked. What you feared. What you needed.

She could protect you. She could fix the ache inside your chest.

You just had to stop pretending you didn’t feel it too.

You were hers. You just didn’t understand it yet.

Ellie started keeping a journal. It wasn’t full of words. Just drawings.

Of you.

Sleeping. Smiling. Naked. Crying.

Sometimes she’d draw herself with you—your hand in hers, your head on her chest. But always, always, your eyes were closed.

She liked it better that way.

When another woman tried to flirt with you at the market, Ellie was there before you could even react. Just a shadow beside your shoulder.

“She’s not interested,” Ellie said, low and cold.

You touched her wrist. “Ellie, stop—”

The woman blinked at her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

Ellie didn’t respond. Just stared. Long enough to make her leave. Long enough to make her afraid.

Later, Ellie brushed your hair off your cheek and whispered, “You don’t need anyone else.”

You didn’t answer. Because part of you agreed.

You started hearing her voice even when she wasn’t there.

Soft murmurs at the edge of your consciousness. A whisper behind your ear.

“You’re mine.”

You looked over your shoulder constantly. Not because you were scared. But because you hoped it was her.

One night, you confronted her. “Are you watching me when I sleep?”

Ellie didn’t lie.

“Yes.”

Your throat tightened. “Why?”

She stepped forward. Her hands cradled your jaw like you were something fragile—something sacred.

“Because it’s the only time you’re honest.”

You shuddered. “That’s not love.”

Ellie’s eyes flashed. “No. It’s more than that.”

She started sleeping on your floor.

Didn’t ask. Just curled up on the rug like a stray wolf. Eyes closed, but never fully asleep. You stepped over her on the way to the bathroom and felt her fingers brush your ankle.

You didn’t stop her. You didn’t speak.

You just left the door unlocked. Every night.

Eventually, your light never turned off.

You didn’t pull the curtains anymore. You let her see.

Because pretending you weren’t hers felt worse than giving in.

And the worst part? You started watching her too.

You counted her steps. You tracked her breath.

You studied the scars on her knuckles and the cracks in her voice when she said your name.

You wanted her under your skin, even when it hurt. Especially when it hurt.

It wasn’t love. It wasn’t sane. It wasn’t safe.

But it was real.

And in this world, that was all you had.

The cabin was two hours from the nearest town.

You didn’t remember falling asleep in the car. You didn’t remember agreeing to come.

You just remembered Ellie’s voice: “There’s too many people around you. Too many eyes.”

She made it sound like love. And you were so tired of fighting.

You woke up wrapped in thick blankets. The fire crackled low. Rain tapped against the window like a pulse.

And Ellie was already watching.

She sat in the rocking chair, legs spread wide, one hand curled beneath her chin. The other rested on her thigh.

“You’re safe now,” she said.

You sat up slowly, brain hazy. “Where are we?”

“Somewhere they can’t reach you.”

You should have run. Instead, you pulled the blanket tighter. And whispered, “Okay.”

The first few days felt like a dream. A stillness you didn’t realize you craved. Ellie chopped wood outside shirtless, sweat glistening down her spine. She cooked, fed you, fixed the fire. She moved like a soldier, like a lover, like something primal that found peace only when she could watch you.

“Do you hate it here?” she asked one night. You shook your head.

Because here, she didn’t have to hide what she was. And neither did you.

She kissed you after dinner. Hard. Possessive.

You tasted desperation in it—an edge like she was afraid you’d disappear mid-kiss. Her hands slid under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter. The plates clattered. You didn’t care.

“Tell me you’re mine,” she growled against your throat.

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Your head lolled back as her hand slid up your shirt, gripping your breast with a brutal need.

“Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped. It felt like a vow.

That night, she took you.

Face pressed into the mattress. Hands pinned above your head. Her mouth feverish on your skin, trailing teeth and tongue in frantic worship. Every thrust came with a litany—Mine. Mine. Mine.—punctuated by bruises blooming under her fingertips.

You came with a scream you didn’t recognize. You came again, sobbing her name.

And when it was over, she curled around you like armor.

Whispered, “I won’t let anyone take you from me.”

You didn’t reply. Because you didn’t want to leave.

Days blurred.

Ellie read to you, bathed you, watched you sleep. She didn’t let you touch the keys. Didn’t let you wander past the woods.

“It’s not safe,” she’d repeat. “People lie. I don’t.”

You believed her. Or you needed to believe her.

One night, she tied your wrists with her belt. Not out of cruelty.

But because you asked her to.

Because your mind was starting to slip too—spiraling in on itself like hers.

“I want to feel it,” you whispered. “What it’s like to be… owned.”

Something in Ellie snapped. She fucked you on the floor. Face flushed, voice shaking. She held your chin and made you watch her as you came. Over and over.

“You’re not leaving,” she told you afterward. You smiled, dazed.

“Why would I?”

You found her journal. Pages filled with you—sketches, fantasies, maps of your body. But also lists. Daydreams:

"Her in a collar"

"Me watching her sleep, knife under the pillow"

"Keep her full. Keep her scared. Keep her close"

"Fuck her in front of a mirror until she can’t tell who she is anymore"

You should’ve been afraid. But instead, you wrote your name in the margin next to hers.

By the second week, you stopped asking when you’d go back.

By the third, you stopped wondering who you used to be.

You were hers now. And worse?

She was yours.

Because obsession, when shared, is just another kind of love.

You don’t know how long you’ve been in the cabin.

Days feel like water slipping through your fingers. You forget what month it is. Sometimes Ellie forgets your name. But you always know hers.

She carved it into the headboard, right above where she made you hers. She whispers it into your skin every night like a ritual. She branded it into your bones.

Ellie.

She watches you brush your hair. Stares like she’s never seen a woman before. Like you’re some phantom that might slip through the cracks if she blinks too long.

“I think I’d kill someone for you,” she says one morning.

You don’t flinch. You smile.

“Who?”

She doesn’t answer. But that night, there’s blood under her fingernails.

You break first. It happens slowly—your grip on reality softens like wet paper.

You cry when your reflection doesn’t smile back. You scream at the storm outside like it’s mocking you. You bite down on Ellie’s arm while she’s fucking you because you need to feel something real.

She doesn’t punish you. She moans.

Ellie starts hearing things.

She locks the door even when no one’s around. She kisses you with a hand on your throat now, like she’s making sure you don’t lie. You find notes stuffed in her boots:

“She’s slipping. She’s forgetting me. I’ll make her remember.”

You don’t tell her you read them. Instead, you leave one of your own:

“If I forget you, kill me.”

The next time she fucks you, it’s on the front porch. Naked. In the cold. Rain on your bare chest. She wants the world to see—wants the sky to know you’re hers. You ride her with your hands knotted in her hair, blood dripping from your lip where she bit you. You come like you’re trying to leave your body behind. She drags you back in with her mouth.

You stop caring about survival.

You drink wine for breakfast. You forget how to spell your last name. You tell Ellie she’s inside your lungs and she kisses your ribs like that’ll keep her there.

“I want to die here,” you say one night.

She presses her forehead to yours.

“We already did.”

There’s no mirror in the bedroom anymore.

You smashed it after Ellie asked, “Do you still recognize yourself?”

You didn’t.

You don’t.

And that was the point.

The last time you go outside, it’s because Ellie begs you to. She wants to show you something—this twisted, gorgeous mural she painted in the barn. It's all you.

Your eyes. Your mouth. Your cunt, over and over, blooming like some unholy flower.

“It’s worship,” she says.

You drop to your knees and lick the paint off her fingers.

There’s no turning back.

Not now. Not when the lines between captor and captive, lover and lunatic, have blurred past meaning.

You are two sides of the same sickness now.

Two gods of one deranged altar.

Two corpses in one grave, still moving, still wanting.

You kiss her like drowning. She holds you like possession.

And when the world finally forgets you exist— You are relieved.

The cabin is quiet. Too quiet.

Ellie hasn’t spoken in two days. Not really. She hums to herself, sometimes, drawing you in her sketchbook over and over until the pages wrinkle under the pressure of her pencil.

You ask what she’s thinking.

She just looks up and says, “You’re so quiet when you sleep.”

Like that answers anything. Like that means everything.

That night, she takes you to bed like it’s the last time. She’s soft with you. Gentle, even.

Kisses your eyelids, your palms, your knees. Cradles your hips like she’s trying to memorize their weight. She doesn’t fuck you like she wants to own you—she fucks you like she’s already lost you.

You cry. She doesn’t ask why.

When you wake up, the gun is on the pillow. It’s cleaned.

Oiled. Loaded.

And next to it is her final drawing: the two of you under the covers, a red thread wrapped around your throats, knotted into a bow at the center.

Underneath, she’s written: If we can’t live like this, we don’t live at all.

You find her on the floor, knees tucked under her like a child. She’s holding a second pistol, one she probably stole months ago.

When she looks at you, she doesn’t smile. She just says, “Will you let me do it?”

You nod.

Because that’s love, too. Trusting someone to end you.

She holds you in her lap, like a lullaby. One hand buried in your hair, the other on your pulse. You breathe together.

You’re not afraid. Not anymore.

“I love you,” you whisper.

Ellie kisses your temple.

“I know.”

The first shot rings out, and the birds fly from the trees.

The second shot follows, echoing through the forest like a vow.

And then— Nothing.

When they find the bodies, you're curled together, as if sleeping.

No notes. No names. Just each other.

Forever.

Idk if you watched yellowjackets but i really think you would like it!

It got me thinking about ellie who lost her bestfriend (secret crush/love of her life) reader and cant part with her body and breaksdown when people find out she has it and take it away from her

Dont take her from me - ellie williams x reader

hi anon! i haven't watched it yet but its been on my watchlist... I've heard good things about it. Once again i got carried away... i hope you enjoy:)

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

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

HUGE WARNING: grief, delusion, breakdown, body transport, psychological decay, corpses/dead bodies, disturbing comfort, jealousy, paranoia, anxiety, mental health strain, grave raiding, corpse handling, delusion, isolation, obsession, gore implied, graphic descriptions, blood, unsettling behaviour

Summary: Ellie’s always had control—until someone threatens to take the one person she can’t live without

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.

The blood had dried on Ellie’s hands hours ago.

But she still sat there, legs numb from being folded too long, your lifeless form cradled in her arms like you might wake up if she held you tight enough.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

She didn’t even get the chance to tell you how she felt—how the thing in her chest wasn’t just a crush. Wasn’t just longing. It was hunger. Ached for you so deeply that she sometimes had to grip the edge of her desk just to stop from running to your house and spilling every ugly truth in her head.

Now she was sitting on the cold floor of an abandoned cabin, in the middle of nowhere, covered in blood and sweat and dirt—and none of it mattered. None of it compared to the way your body had gone still. Your breath, your light… extinguished like it was never there.

She pressed her cheek to your forehead. Still faintly warm.

“Don’t go cold,” she whispered, voice shredded from hours of screaming your name into nothingness. “Just stay a little longer. Just stay with me.”

She rocked slightly. Back and forth. Like she could lull you into staying. Like you were just sleeping off a long night.

And when the others came—Jesse, Dina, a couple others from Jackson—Ellie didn’t even flinch.

They saw her first. Then you. No one spoke. For a moment, all they did was stare.

Then Jesse stepped forward. “Ellie,” he said softly, eyes wide with horror, “we have to take her.”

She didn’t look up. “No.”

“Ellie—”

“No.”

Her voice cracked, sharp and shrill, and her grip around your torso tightened.

“She’s not—she’s not ready. She’s not cold yet. She’s not—” Her breath hitched. “You can’t just take her.”

Dina’s face twisted in pain. “El… we need to bury her. It’s not safe out here, there’s—”

“You don’t get to touch her!” Ellie roared, head snapping up. Her eyes were wild—bloodshot, soaked with grief and rage. “You didn’t know her like I did. You don’t even get it.”

She scrambled back as Jesse reached again, shielding your body like a wounded animal. Her fingers trembled where they clung to your clothes.

“She was mine,” she whispered. “I never got to say it—but she was. She was. And you’re not gonna put her in the fucking ground like she’s just gone. She’s not.”

She pressed a kiss to your temple. Desperate. Cracked. “I can keep her warm. I swear. I’ll—I’ll keep her safe. Don’t take her from me. Please.”

But your skin was cooling.

No amount of warmth from her hands, no matter how feverishly she held you, could stop the inevitable.

She had memorized every scar, every laugh, every stupid joke you told just to see her crack a smile. And now you were quiet. Hollow. Just an echo.

They had to sedate her.

It took three of them. She fought like a hellhound, screaming your name, kicking, crying, biting, even when the needle sank into her neck. Even when her body slumped in Jesse’s arms, unconscious… her fingers were still twisted in your shirt.

When she woke up in Jackson days later, you were gone. She lost it.

They wouldn’t tell her where they buried you. Said she wasn’t stable. Said she needed rest, time, healing.

She screamed until her voice gave out. Tore her room apart looking for anything you touched. Burned a hole through your favorite hoodie just trying to breathe it in.

She sneaks out that night. Finds the grave. It’s quiet. Peaceful. The dirt’s still fresh.

Ellie drops to her knees, hands shaking, and begins to dig. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. She doesn’t care. She needs to see your face again.

Needs to kiss you, one more time, even if your lips are cold. Needs to apologize for all the time she wasted. Needs to ask if you’d have said yes—if she had asked you out. If you’d have smiled, taken her hand, told her you felt it too.

When they find her in the morning, she’s curled up beside the half-opened grave, fingers bloodied, dirt under her nails, your name on her lips. She doesn’t even look up.

“She was the only good thing,” she whispers, to no one. “And I didn’t get to keep her.”

It had been six days since you died. No one had found the cabin. Not yet. She made sure of it.

The windows were boarded. The door—barred with a chair wedged under the knob. Every possible crack sealed tight. She'd left bloodied handprints on the wood floor from moving you again, and again, and again—trying to find the right spot, the one you’d be most comfortable in.

You were laid out on a mattress in the center of the room, tucked under a worn blanket she stole from your house weeks ago. Your hair combed back gently. Lips touched with rose balm. She even painted your nails.

“See?” Ellie murmured, sitting beside you, her knees folded tightly under her. Her fingers brushed the edge of your arm—skin pale, but not blue. Not yet. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

She hadn’t eaten in two days. Barely drank water. Her eyes were sunken, red-rimmed, skin tight across her cheekbones. But her gaze never left you.

Sometimes, she imagined you blinking. Sometimes, she swore you did.

Sometimes, she dreamed you whispered her name, and when she woke up, her ear would be inches from your mouth, waiting. Just waiting for it again.

It wasn’t decomposition. It was transition. That’s what she told herself. That the smell wasn’t decay—it was your soul trying to root itself in her.

That the darkening under your eyes wasn’t rot—it was exhaustion from everything you’d been through.

That the way your body stiffened wasn’t rigor mortis—it was just you being shy. You’d always been shy.

They came looking for her on the ninth day. A knock at the cabin.

“Ellie? Are you in there?”

Jesse.

Ellie blinked, gaze pulling from your face. She didn’t answer.

“Ellie, please. We just want to help.”

Help?

They didn’t understand.

They wanted to take you.

She stood slowly, reaching for the axe near the doorway. The one she'd been using to chop firewood—and threaten the shadows when they got too loud.

She looked down at you one last time. Her expression soft, loving, doting.

“They don’t get to have you,” she whispered, eyes glassy. “You’re mine.” Then she went to the door.

The floorboards are stained now. Not from you. From the others.

They tried to come in. They didn’t leave.

She had to do it. She had to. They would’ve taken you. Put you in the ground like you were nothing more than meat and memory.

You weren’t. You were everything. Still are.

Now it’s just the two of you again. The way it should be.

Ellie sleeps curled up at the foot of your mattress, arm across your ankle like a child holding a stuffed toy. She tells you stories. She sings to you—soft lullabies she remembers her mom humming, or songs she once heard you hum absentmindedly in the kitchen.

Sometimes she kisses your hand. Sometimes she cries and begs you not to leave her.

“I love you,” she whispers again and again. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I won’t let them bury you. You’re mine.”

The backseat of the truck smelled like copper and perfume. The perfume was yours. A bottle she stole from your bathroom before the blood dried. She sprayed it on you each morning like ritual. Like prayer.

The copper was blood. Not yours, mostly.

She had to kill the man who owned the truck.

He tried to take it—you. Said it wasn’t “right.” Said you were a body, not a person anymore. Said she needed help.

He didn’t understand. None of them did.

Ellie adjusted the blanket over your face again, tucking it neatly beneath your chin. The fabric clung wetly to your skin, the heat of the day making it damp. Your body… was changing. But she didn’t look at the changes. She looked at your eyes, still closed, eyelashes dark and perfect.

She turned the engine and drove.

You were going west. She didn’t have a destination. Not a real one. Just the vague echo of hope in the back of her skull that somewhere, someone out there could bring you back. Fix it.

There had to be a way. Science. Magic. Something. People resurrect dogs all the time in books, right?

So why not you? You were better than a dog. You were her.

Day 4

The desert was hot.

Your skin started to blister.

Ellie cried while wiping you down with a cool rag, her hands trembling. “I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve covered you better. You don’t like the sun, remember? You always said it makes you dizzy. I should’ve known.”

She stuffed ice in a towel and placed it under your neck. It melted within an hour.

Day 7

She changed your clothes.

It took two hours. Your limbs were stiff now, resistant, like you were mad at her. She apologized over and over again, kissing your hands, your face, your knees.

“You’re so cold,” she whispered, wrapping you in a hoodie that once belonged to her. “But I’ll warm you up. We just need to keep moving.”

Day 9

She saw the lights in the sky. Or maybe imagined them.

A roadside church with the word “HEALING” painted in blood-red letters drew her attention. She pulled over. Inside, there were no people. Just old books, dry flowers, and a candlelit altar.

She laid you there, right in the center, brushing your hair from your forehead. Then she got on her knees.

Prayed.

For the first time in her life.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please. I love her. I didn’t get to say it. Please just… give her back. I’ll do anything.”

The candles flickered. Her heart stopped. You didn’t move.

Day 12

You smelled worse now.

She lined the truck bed with herbs. Lavender. Mint. Anything she could find.

She kept the windows cracked so you could breathe. She never admitted—never—that you couldn’t. That maybe your lungs had stopped working long ago. Because you still looked peaceful. Still looked like you were sleeping. Still looked like you might say her name if she leaned close enough.

Sometimes she imagined you turning to her. Smiling. She started answering for you. Making conversations in the dark.

“Do you think we’ll find someone?”

Yeah, El. I think so.

“Should I stop driving tonight?”

I like the sound of the road. Keep going.

“Okay. I’ll keep going.”

Day 15

The truck ran out of gas in Arizona.

Ellie dragged your body through the sand, arms bruised and bleeding, sunburnt to hell. She tied you to a door she ripped off an abandoned house and pulled it like a sled. Her boots left deep tracks behind her. Buzzards circled above. But she didn’t look up. Didn’t cry.

Didn’t slow down.

“I’m taking you to the ocean,” she told you. “You always wanted to see it. We’ll go together. We’ll walk into the waves. Maybe that’s what you need.”

Your lips were cracked. Hollow.

But she smiled at you like you’d just said “thank you.”

Day 20

She made it to the coast. Somehow.

Body bruised, fingers blackened, lips crusted and bleeding, Ellie stood barefoot in the surf, your body laid out beside her on the wet sand. The tide rolled in. Foam kissed your toes.

She knelt beside you, her voice shaking. “This is it. If you’re gonna come back… it’ll be here.”

The moon hung above like an unblinking eye.

She took your hand, held it to her chest, pressed her lips to your temple one last time.

“Please.”

Silence.

“Please, wake up.”

Nothing.

The water rose. The stars flickered. Ellie’s tears slid down your dead face.

And then—

In the wind, she heard it.

Faint. Echoing. Gentle.

“I missed you too, El.”

Her mouth broke into a smile.

And when the waves swallowed you both whole, she didn’t fight it.

When Ellie opened her eyes, there was no pain. No sand. No salt. No hunger. No rotting flesh between her fingers. Just warmth. A low golden hum.

And you.

Sitting on the edge of a bed, hair glowing in the soft light. Wearing that shirt she loved on you, the one you always slept in. Your legs curled beneath you, a book open in your lap. You looked up, smiled.

“Hey.” Her breath hitched.

She looked down. Her hands were clean. No blood, no dirt. Her boots were gone. She was barefoot, the floor beneath her soft and cloud-warm.

“…Where…?” she croaked.

You tilted your head. “You’re home.”

Ellie staggered forward like a child learning to walk again, eyes wide, unblinking. “Is this—am I dreaming?”

You didn’t answer. Just opened your arms. She collapsed into them.

The scent of you—pure, unchanged—drenched her brain like a drug. Your skin was warm. Your breath against her ear as you whispered her name made her sob.

“I missed you,” she choked. “I missed you so fucking much.”

You stroked her hair. “I know. I waited.”

The house had no doors. No clocks. No sky. Just soft white light that never dimmed. It existed outside of time. And so did you.

You cooked together. Slept curled in one another’s arms. Sang songs in the silence. She traced your face every night, whispering prayers of thanks to whatever cruel or merciful god had made this possible.

But some things weren’t quite right.

You never left the house.

Never asked her questions.

Never said “I love you” first.

Sometimes, Ellie caught glimpses—your reflection in the window lagging behind, your voice echoing before you spoke, your heartbeat silent when her ear pressed to your chest.

But she ignored it.

Because she had you.

One Day…

She woke up and you weren’t there. The bed was cold. Empty.

She searched the house—every corner, every drawer. Screaming your name until her voice gave out. In the mirror above the sink, her reflection stared at her. But it wasn’t her.

Its eyes were black. Hollow. Its skin cracked. Decaying.

“You took her,” she whispered to it.

“You lost her,” the mirror answered.

She shattered it with her fists.

Later, she found you again. Sitting in the bedroom, combing your hair.

Like nothing had happened.

Ellie fell to her knees. “Please don’t leave again.”

You turned, eyes soft. “I didn’t leave. You just forgot where I was.”

Her hands shook as she touched your cheek. You were still cold.

Colder than before.

As the days passed—if you could call them days—you began to fade.

Literally.

Your edges blurred. Your voice softened into whispers. Your body, once warm, became translucent in the light. Ellie wrapped herself around you each night like armor, like a chain.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she hissed into your hair. “I won’t let you go again.” You didn’t respond. But you wept in your sleep.

One night, she woke up alone again. This time, you didn’t come back.

Ellie searched every room, howling like an animal. Her skin began to flake. Her nails fell off. She bled from the gums. The house, once warm, was now cold stone. Shadows whispered your name, mockingly, again and again and again. She clawed at the walls until they bled with her.

Then she saw the door. The first and only door. At the end of the hallway, pulsing like a wound. She stepped through.

On the other side: Both your bodies washed up by the ocean.

Her body, lying beside it. Rotting. Clutching your arm. And a figure, dressed in black, speaking gently.

“You can’t stay with her forever,” Death murmured. “This was your mind's lie. Your denial. It’s time to go.”

Ellie laughed. “Fuck off.”

She turned around, walked back into the house. Back into the version of you that smiled when she arrived. That never asked her to change. That didn’t cry when she kissed your cold mouth.

She never left again.

Ellie stayed in the house—forever rotting, forever hallucinating. Holding your fading, flickering ghost and convincing herself you were real. And in her head, in her twisted, love-drunk eternity, you always whispered the same thing before sleep:

“I’ll never leave you again.”

And even if it was a lie—

Ellie believed it.

When they eventually found your bodies, the costal shore reeked of sweet sick rot.

Ellie was thin. Hollow. Nails broken. Eyes vacant. But Ellie’s smile is peaceful.

She’s lying beside you, one hand holding your arm, the other clutched around a knife driven straight into her own heart. A blood trail leading from her chest to the outline of your body, as if she were trying to bleed into you. Return to you. Merge with you.

There’s a note, scrawled on the sand:

“She waited for me. I’ll stay with her now.”

Your last band Ellie fic was tooo good can you do rockstar Ellie with karma by raue

Karma - (ellie williams x reader)

Hi anon thanks for the compliment! firstly this song fucking slaps??? hello???? off topic but rockstar Ellie would be so hot too, like??? I hope you enjoy <3

This story is based off the song Karma by Raue, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading! This song is about betrayal, so I did not follow the lyric 100% but the overall message is the same:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

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

Warnings: betrayal

Summary: In which you were her downfall

Authors note: It took be fucking forever to get this out because tumblr was not posting my shit but here it finally is! Remember you are loved an to always be kind <3

Ellie groaned as she saw the pictures of you and Abby Anderson.

Take your time

Do you remember all the things you said

Before I took what’s mine

Fear grows with time

It’s hard to believe all the things you did

While blurring out the line

Out of all the people Abby fucking Anderson. Her biggest rival.

"It'll make you feel worse if you keep looking at it" she heard Jesse talk from behind her.

All Ellie could do was throw her phone to the side.

"I know this I hard" Jesse started but before he could finish there was a knock on her dressing room door.

"Are you naked Williams?" she heard Dina yell from the other side.

"It's time for makeup"

"Yeah, yeah let her come in" Ellie sighed.

She heard Jesse chucked before she saw him get up.

"Try to forget about her, ok?" was all he said before he walked out.

Ellie looked at her self in the mirror for a while. She couldn't even recognize herself anymore. She went from a sweet an innocent girl to almost every parents nightmare.

She was covered in tattoos, her lips and tongue pierced. Once she had long hair, but it was cut short. She wore a black wife beater with a leather jacket and tight leather pants. Her neck was decorated with tattoos and chains.

Maybe getting all these tattoos was a good idea, it made her look cooler. It goes with her image.

Joel says it was a bad idea, that she would regret it one day. But she looks so fucking badass she tends to ignore his complaints.

The door soon opened and Dina walked in with her make up kit, practically running to Ellie.

"Fuck, fuck I'm late! I'm late! Maria's gonna kill me"

"Dina chill it's only some eyeliner"

"and foundation" she yelled dramatically as she zipped open her bag and started drawing Ellie's eyeliner on.

It was quiet, peaceful.

Too quiet for a rock show.

In the past Ellie performed in front of millions. She remembered how she almost went deaf because of how loud the crowd was screaming for her.

There were times she couldn't even walk in public alone without hundreds of people running after her. People begged her online to sell her used underwear at some point.

Ellie dominated the music industry with her unique rock style and unique lyrics.

She was a legend.

But now she was a nothing.

No one knew of the famous Ellie Williams anymore.

And it was all your fucking fault. You took that away from her.

The peaceful environment Ellie and Dina sat in was soon disrupted when Maria walked into the room whistling.

Ellie rolled her eyes.

"You look hot" Maria commented as she looked at Ellie through the mirror.

"You did good" Dina she added.

A smile appeared on her face "thank you" she beamed.

"I would've done something better but I was late"

"It's ok… now can you give Ellie and I some time alone"

All Dina did was nod as she started packing up her stuff.

Ellie looked herself in the mirror and she agreed. She looked fucking hot. She hoped that maybe tonight might be her comeback.

She looked good, she felt good and excited. Maybe people would still like her.

Ellie was snapped out of her thoughts when she heard the door close. It was just her and Maria left in the room.

"Ok look, you barley made any sales-"

"you don't think I fucking know that?" Ellie snapped.

"Getting mad at me won't do anything Ellie"

"you're my fucking manager do something!"

Maria sighed.

"Listen Ellie everyone is buying Andersons album-"

"then do something about it! put me on billboards, make my shit cheaper!"

The room was filed with silence, before Ellie spoke up again: "Maria I can't lose my career"

"I can't lose to her and Anderson" Ellie muttered as she looked down to the ground. defeated.

"Ellie you aren't making money anymore, nobody is buying tickets, you can't pay your staff… I think it's time to give up"

Hot tears filled Ellies eyes. She couldn't lose this. Her music was the only thing keeping her sane.

"If it wasn't for your ex girl maybe-"

But before Maria could finish Ellie got up from her chair and she walked towards her.

If looks could kill, Maria would be dead right now.

"Don't you ever talk about her again. She's fucking dead to me" Ellie said through gritted teeth.

Maria took a step back, afraid that Ellie would hit her.

"Ellie it's ok to be mad at her- but you need to stop holding this grudge. It's bad for you and your career"

Ellie looked to floor. Maybe Maria was right.

"Ellie I'm sorry-" she didn't even bother to stay and listen.

"if you stopped thinking about what she did, maybe you'd be able to save your career"

Ellies eyes widened, and her jaw dropped at what Maria said.

All Ellie did was grab her electric guitar and she walked out the room.

What Maria said hurt her. Ellie loved you. She dedicated her career to you and all you did was stab her in the back.

Maria was there when Ellie cried for you. Maria was there when Ellie realized she was losing followers. Maria was there when Abby announced that you had become her manager. Maria was there.

And this is what she had to say?

Fuck her.

"Don't cry. don't cry" Ellie muttered to herself.

It would ruin her make up. It would ruin the night. Maria already ruined it, but this would make it worse.

Ellie slung her guitar over her body, she heard her chains rattle at the sudden movement.

She walked onto the stage.

No screams. There was barley a crowd.

What do you expect if you perform at a rundown bar?

A few claps came from the so called crowd.

Ellie didn't even bother introducing herself, all she did was signal for Jesse to start the music.

As soon as the beat played Ellie felt alive. It felt like she'd she'd dead for years, starved even, now she's alive.

The music awoke something in her.

Ellie smiled, and when she looked at the crowd her smile dropped realizing, no one fucking cared.

She was wasting her talent on idiots. And it was your fault.

"Give it to me; I don’t want it

Give it to me; I won’t make you feel like someone else

Give it to me; I don’t want it

I’ve lost it"

No one in the crowd seemed to care.

She sang the lyrics with passion. With grace and talent.

Maybe she lose her fucking mind to believe that she could still be a rockstar.

It made headlines.

Awake to your mind

It’s hard to believe all the things he did

Before he said who’s right

Awake to the signs

It’s hard to bеlieve all the things hе said

Before he changed his mind

Abby Andersons new rock broke so many records.

It was all over the news.

Ellie didn't know what to feel. Jealous? Angry? Sad?

She knew she couldn't be mad at Abby, it wasn't her fault. It was yours.

You were the one that made her this big.

Ellie knew she couldn't be mad because at some point in her career that was her too.

You brought her that level of fame too, and you brutally took it away

Ellie met you a heavy metal concert one night.

"You like them too?" Ellie asked surprised when she saw a pretty girl like you in such a dark place.

"I'm fucking obsessed with them" you have her a bright smile.

And the rest was history.

You motivated Ellie to start her career. You motived her to continue with her passion for rock music. You helped her express herself.

You saw her talent.

Everything Ellie was, was because of you.

Most of Ellies first songs were love songs that she dedicated to you. She fell in love with you, and she was too afraid to tell you.

Maybe you didn't like her back and you were her manager after all, if she fucked it up, it would be awkward.

With Ellies unique lyrics and style her career quickly took off.

People loved what she put out, and because Ellie was attractive more and more people craved her.

With you by her side, she had more motivation to make music, hoping that you'd realize her feelings, that she had for you and that you'd like her back.

You were a marketing genius, you knew how to get her music out there in creative ways. You knew how to get Ellie's face everywhere.

Thanks to you, there was not one person in Jackson who didn't know who Ellie Williams was.

Interviews, photoshoots, music videos, you arranged everything. You made her famous.

One night you had asked her "who's your songs about? This girl must be stupid not to see that you love her"

Ellie's reply was a kiss. She put so much emotion into that kiss. She hoped you'd feel all her unspoken feelings.

"It's me?" you questions as she pulled away.

"yeah"

The two of you kissed, you spent the night making love, and you kissed once again. With you in her arms Ellie knew what her next song was going to be about.

The next morning when Ellie woke up you weren't there.

You had vanished. She had grabbed her phone seeing that you had blocked her.

What the fuck?

Ellie whet to her room and her music book was gone.

Years worth of music was gone.

You had left her without a manger and without a music book.

Soon after news broke that you were Abby's new manager and her first singles was one of Ellie's songs.

What the actual fuck.

You were using her. You never felt anything for Ellie. Your heart always belonged to Abby and you had promised your girlfriend that you'd make her famous, and you kept that promise.

Look at her.

She was bigger than Ellie Williams.

Abby's whole album was songs that Ellie wrote. For you.

You took her ideas, her fans, her joy, her love, her everything.

Ellie sobbed into her pillow as she saw the pictures of you and Abby. She saw the way Abby's career took off with her music.

Because of you, Ellie was left with nothing.

No music, no you, no fans. All she had was a failing career.

She was left alone and betrayed by the one she loved most

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

Rose - (ellie williams x reader)

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

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts

warnings: sexual themes

Summary: in which she cant forget you

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

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

Who will be the lucky girl tonight?

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

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

Holy shit, who are you?

Her eyes scanned your body.... fuck

Maybe you'd be the lucky one

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

Oh you were feisty.

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

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

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

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

oh.

Ellie wasn't expecting that.

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

Ellie shook her head quickly gaining her composure.

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

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

Now this made her jaw drop.

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

What the fuck is happening?

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

You left the Ellie Williams speechless.

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

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

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

"h-hey" did she just fucking stutter?

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

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

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

You laugh at her. You fucking laugh at her.

"Don't be pathetic, use your words"

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

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

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

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

"see fucking pathetic"

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

What were you doing to her?

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

The rest was a blur to her.

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

After tonight she knew you fucked her over.

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

Who are you?

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

She opened her eyes to a cold empty bed.

"Fuck" she sighed.

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

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

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

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

"Fuck rose who are you?"

<3

can we please have a pt2 for bbf!ellie?😭

headcannons: brothers best friend!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

part 1

☆ Ellie’s confession wasn’t a soft one. It was raw. Blurted out late one night when it was just the two of you on the porch, sitting too close. Her voice trembled but her eyes never left yours.

☆ “I like you,” she said, almost angry about it, like it was your fault. “I’ve liked you for a long time.”

☆ You froze. Not because you didn’t like her back—but because you did, and that scared the hell out of you.

☆ The next day, you avoided her. No text replies, no opening the door when she knocked, no hanging around when your brother invited her over.

☆ Ellie noticed instantly. Her texts got more frequent. Shorter. More frantic. “Did I fuck up?” “Please talk to me.”

☆ When you left a group hang early, she stared after you the whole time. She didn’t even say goodbye.

☆ Ellie didn’t sleep much that first week. She laid awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering how she misread things.

☆ She started watching your house. Just sitting in her truck a few houses down at night. Waiting to see your light go off.

☆ She played songs she knew you liked in your brother's room, loud enough for you to hear through the shared wall. Hoping you’d listen. Hoping you’d knock.

☆ You didn’t. It made her worse.

☆ She started keeping things you left behind—a hoodie, a pen, a lip balm—and holding them like they were sacred.

☆ Ellie got moodier. Snappier with your brother. She barely made eye contact with him, but she was always asking where you were.

☆ You caught her looking at you from the edge of the hallway once. Her eyes were glassy. She didn’t speak.

☆ Her drawings? All turned into versions of you. Your hands, your mouth, your hair, the sad curve of your shoulder.

☆ She stopped hiding it. Started wearing her obsession like a badge, because if she couldn't have you—she needed to remember every inch of you.

☆ Ellie started showing up everywhere you went. Coincidence at first—until it wasn’t.

☆ Grocery store? She was there by the lemons, asking if you still liked green apples.

☆ Coffee shop? She was sitting at the back, watching you sip your drink, fingers tight on her cup.

☆ She wouldn’t talk to you directly. Just… look. Let the air buzz.

☆ Your friends noticed. One asked, “Is she stalking you?” You didn’t answer. You weren’t sure.

☆ Ellie started writing about you in her journal—paragraphs of frustration, lust, guilt, rage, and helpless longing.

☆ She imagined what your skin would taste like if you’d let her kiss you.

☆ She imagined saying your name and hearing you moan hers back.

☆ Every sketch was darker, more desperate. You with tear tracks, with your lip between your teeth, with bruises she imagined leaving.

☆ Her mind spiraled. She thought maybe you were rejecting her on purpose. Punishing her.

☆ She started dreaming about you. Wake-up-sweating, breathing-hard dreams.

☆ When your brother invited her over again, Ellie scanned the room like a wolf. You weren’t there. Again.

☆ “She’s been busy,” your brother offered casually. Ellie didn’t respond. Her jaw clenched.

☆ The silence became unbearable. You missed her. Wanted her. But you couldn’t act on it—not with your brother. Not with the mess.

☆ But Ellie was done waiting.

☆ She showed up at your place with a book she claimed you left behind. You didn’t. She just needed an excuse.

☆ You opened the door an inch. Tried to keep it cold. But your eyes gave you away. You still wanted her.

☆ Ellie stared at your lips the entire conversation. All two minutes of it.

☆ When you shut the door, she stood there for five more minutes. Breathing. Shaking.

☆ That was the night she made a decision: she’d make you tell her the truth—even if she had to corner you for it.

☆ You were coming back from class when you felt it—that prickle on your neck. The instinct. Someone watching.

☆ You turned and there she was. Hoodie, jaw set, standing at the mouth of the hallway.

☆ You tried to walk past her. She stepped in front of you.

☆ “Why are you avoiding me?” she asked, voice low, clipped.

☆ “Ellie, please—” you said, but your voice cracked.

☆ She moved closer. “No. You don’t get to run anymore.”

☆ You backed up, heart pounding, until your spine hit the cold concrete wall. Nowhere to go.

☆ “Did I scare you?” she whispered. “Is that it?”

☆ “No,” you whispered. “You didn’t.”

☆ Her hands hit the wall on either side of your head. Trapped. Her face inches from yours.

☆ “Then what?” Her voice broke. “You didn’t even give me a chance.”

☆ Her eyes were red-rimmed. Wild. “I tell you I’m in love with you and you disappear?”

☆ “Ellie, I’m scared,” you admitted. “You’re my brother’s best friend. If something happens, it’ll ruin everything.”

☆ “Something already happened,” she growled. “You ruined me the second you stopped talking to me.”

☆ Your breath hitched. Her lips brushed your cheek. “I dream about you,” she whispered. “Every fucking night.”

☆ “Ellie…” Your voice was soft, needy.

☆ She tilted your chin up. “Say you don’t want me. Say it and I’ll leave you alone.”

☆ You couldn’t. You didn’t. Your mouth parted—but no words came.

☆ And then—her lips crashed into yours.

☆ It was messy, all teeth and tongue and heat. Weeks of tension unraveling in one kiss that felt like it might end the world.

☆ Your hands gripped her hoodie like a lifeline, pulling her tighter, closer, until you couldn’t breathe.

☆ She kissed like she hated you for making her wait. Like she needed to memorize you.

☆ You whimpered into her mouth and she swore she almost lost it. Her hands fisted in your shirt.

☆ Her leg slipped between yours. She swallowed every sound you made.

☆ When she finally pulled back, you both were panting. Her forehead pressed to yours.

☆ “Fuck,” she breathed. “I’ve wanted to do that since I was seventeen.”

☆ “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t know how to handle it.”

☆ “You don’t have to,” she said. “Just don’t run. Please.”

☆ Her fingers traced your jaw. “I meant what I said. I like you. I’m not walking away.”

☆ “Even if my brother finds out?”

☆ “Let him,” she said, voice thick. “I’ll fight him if I have to.”

☆ You laughed softly, and Ellie smiled like she hadn’t in weeks.

☆ “So… what now?” you asked, breathless.

☆ She swallowed, eyes dark, voice hoarse: “Go out with me. Tonight. Tomorrow. Every day after that. Be mine.”

☆ You kissed her again. And this time, it wasn’t desperate—it was a yes.

maybe prof ellie bringing in her wife to help teach a lesson on a speciality that reader specialises in??? and ellie being smug and proud of her wife teaching

if that makes sense

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

☆ Ellie has been plotting this for weeks, trying to find the perfect moment to invite you to her class without it seeming like a weird flex—though, secretly, it totally is a flex.

☆ She brags about you constantly to her students—your research, your credentials, your awards—so when she says, “She’ll be guest-lecturing next Tuesday,” her students practically groan, “Finally.”

☆ Ellie nervously asks you at dinner, trying to sound casual: “Sooo, would you… maybe wanna come lecture for my neuro class? Just like… help me out? You’re the expert in that area anyway.” (She’s blushing like mad the whole time.)

☆ She sends you the syllabus and her lesson plan, but honestly you already know the material—you’ve read her notes a dozen times over the years, often curled into her lap while she works late.

☆ Ellie spends the night before organizing her office just in case you want to work there. She even dusts.

☆ She makes an entire PowerPoint intro slide with your credentials and picture. You don’t know this until you walk in and it’s plastered on the projector.

☆ Ellie insists on walking you to the lecture hall, coffee in hand, arm hooked around your waist like a proud, possessive spouse.

☆ She can’t stop herself from staring at you in the elevator, mumbling, “You look hot. Are you trying to distract me in front of my students?”

☆ She warns her students: “Be on your best behavior. Or I’ll fail you. That’s my wife.”

☆ Ellie talks you up before you even walk in—"She published her first paper at twenty-three. She's got field experience and a PhD. Basically, listen up.”

☆ She introduces you with a smug, “This is my wife. She’s smarter than me, so you’re in good hands.”

☆ She sits front row while you speak, arms crossed, smirking the entire time like she’s watching her favorite movie.

☆ Every time you pace past her while presenting, Ellie subtly reaches out to touch your hand or brush your fingers—like she can’t help herself.

☆ She answers students' questions with: “You should ask her—she’s the expert,” then gives you a look like she’s melting.

☆ Ellie’s watching you like she’s in love for the first time again, chin in her hand, gaze unblinking.

☆ The students keep stealing glances at her because she’s blushing the entire lecture.

☆ She mouths “You’re doing amazing” at you when you hesitate for a second, instantly supportive.

☆ She takes pictures of you while you teach—secretly at first, then obviously when she grins at you and holds her phone up like a proud girlfriend.

☆ Ellie laughs the loudest at your little jokes or quips during the lesson, even if no one else gets them.

☆ At one point, when a student asks a particularly good question, Ellie mutters, “Damn, that was hot,” under her breath.

☆ The moment the students start clapping, Ellie’s already striding up to you, beaming. “You killed it, babe.”

☆ She grabs your hand in front of the whole class and kisses it—gently, reverently—just because she can.

☆ Students start asking you for office hours, and Ellie is 50% smug, 50% territorial.

☆ She whispers in your ear on the way out: “We’re definitely doing this again. I’ve never been more turned on by a whiteboard.”

☆ Ellie refuses to let go of your hand as you walk through campus. “Now they all know how hot and smart my wife is. Feels good.”

☆ She insists on buying you dinner afterward, calling it a “thank you” date—even though she’s just looking for an excuse to stare at you more.

☆ In private, she wraps her arms around you from behind and murmurs, “You’re brilliant, y’know that? All mine.”

☆ She reviews your lecture notes later, totally unnecessarily, just so she can “appreciate your formatting.”

☆ Ellie updates her desktop wallpaper to a candid photo she took of you teaching.

☆ She brags to her colleagues the next day like, “Did you know my wife pioneered that entire segment of research?” even if they didn’t ask.

☆ She references you in class more than ever: “My wife actually studied this during her masters…”

☆ Ellie becomes more obsessed with inviting you back: “We have another unit coming up, wanna co-teach?”

☆ You become a campus legend among her students. One even calls you “Dr. Williams 2.0” and Ellie nearly cries.

☆ She keeps printing out your articles and tacking them on her office board, pretending it’s for “student reading.”

☆ Ellie starts leaving you little love notes in her lecture slides—stuff like “She’s the smartest woman I know” in the footer text.

☆ She asks you to proofread her papers more, not because she needs help, but because she just loves hearing your opinions.

☆ Ellie can’t go five minutes without saying, “My wife said something so interesting about that…”

☆ She buys you a new blazer after the lecture, saying, “For next time. You looked good as hell up there.”

☆ Ellie starts working you into her curriculum long-term—guest lectures, special interviews, even recorded segments.

☆ She updates her university bio to say “Happily married to a fellow researcher,” just because she can.

☆ Sometimes she’ll replay the recording of your lecture late at night, quietly admiring how passionate you sound.

☆ She keeps your guest lecturer badge on her desk in a little acrylic frame.

☆ Ellie draws little doodles of you at the lectern in her notebook margins.

☆ She brings up that day when she’s stressed—“Hey, remember when you came to class and made me look so cool?”

☆ Ellie starts quoting you mid-lecture and then gives a sheepish, “That’s something my wife says.”

☆ If a student challenges your ideas, she immediately goes into defense mode: “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Trust me.”

☆ She’ll walk past the lecture hall days later, glance inside, and smile like it’s sacred ground.

☆ Sometimes she just hugs you and whispers, “You made me proud in a way I can’t even describe.”

☆ Ellie gets you your own university hoodie and says, “Now you really belong here.”

☆ She refers to your guest lecture as “the best day of the semester.”

☆ Ellie steals the pen you used that day and keeps it in her desk drawer like a souvenir.

☆ She gets lowkey jealous when students mention how cool or pretty you were.

☆ She has the urge to say “That’s my wife” any time your name is mentioned in academic circles.

☆ Ellie annotates your academic papers like fanfiction, highlighting lines with hearts.

☆ She starts planning her future lectures around the possibility of bringing you in again.

☆ She buys matching laser pointers for both of you. “Team Williams,” she calls it.

☆ Ellie gets a little flushed remembering how confidently you spoke to her students. She replays your voice in her head when she’s missing you.

☆ She wears the ring you gave her like a badge of honor, subtly flashing it when people mention your name.

☆ Ellie admits—after a lot of coaxing—that she was more nervous that day than you were.

☆ Every time someone brings it up, Ellie just smiles and says, “Yeah. She’s mine.”

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

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

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts:)

warnings: sadness

Summary: In which you still dream about her

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

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

When it came to her, you never could.

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

"Focus on me" you heard Ellie tell you.

how could you not?

"i am"

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

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

"What's bothering you?" she asked.

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

Fuck.

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

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

"dont say that"

"but i do els"

"it was for the better"

"no you were selfish" you snap.

her fists clench by her sides

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ellie?"

"Ellie!"

"Ellie?"

You called over and over again.

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

She went after Abby. She chose Abby over you.

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

She'll be back right?

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

Her question replayed in your mind:

"do you still dream of me?"

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

You hoped she heard you. Wherever she was.

<3

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.

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