To Be Near You - Ellie Williams X Reader
Can we please have yandere Ellie
To Be Near You - ellie williams x reader
hi anon! i wasnt sure if you wanted headcannons or a fic, but lmk if i should do seomething else instead. I hope you enjoy:)
pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
requests are open, send me songs or your silly ideas:)
HUGE WARNING: Yandere behavior, obsessive thoughts, emotional manipulation, stalking, slow burn, psychological themes, implied torture, confinement, disturbing intimacy, kidnapping
Summary: Ellie was quiet at first, just watching from the background — protective, helpful, always there. But her interest wasn’t harmless. What began as care turned into control, and slowly, you realized she was never going to let you go. Even when you stopped fighting, her obsession only grew stronger.
masterlist
This story contains dark and emotionally intense themes—please read with care. You are responsible for what you consume online. Please read the warnings before reading.
Ellie didn’t remember when it started—when you became the only person she thought about. Maybe it was that time you sat two rows ahead of her in biology, your head tilted slightly, scribbling so fast in your notebook she thought smoke might rise from the page. Or maybe it was when you laughed at something stupid the professor said, that quiet little snort that made her chest feel too tight.
It didn’t matter. All Ellie knew was that you were hers—even if you didn’t know it yet.
She wasn’t stupid. She didn’t approach you like some lovesick idiot. No, she watched. Observed. She knew your routines down to the minute. Mondays, you always bought the cheap coffee from the cart near the arts building. Wednesdays, you skipped your last class and sat alone under the fig tree near the library with a book in your lap, legs crossed, headphones in. You always listened to that sad indie shit, the kind that made Ellie feel like your soul was a snow globe someone had shaken too hard.
She memorized the curve of your neck when you tied your hair up. The way you rubbed your thumb against your phone case when you were nervous. The way you always said “thank you” to the cleaning staff. You were good. Pure. You didn’t belong in a world like this—surrounded by people who wouldn’t protect you the way Ellie would.
So she started small. A bump in the hallway. An apologetic smile. The “accidental” sighting at your favorite coffee spot. She watched the way your eyes lit up when someone remembered your name. She made sure to say it just loud enough that you’d hear it from behind you in line—like it had only just occurred to her. “Oh, hey, y/n, right?”
You smiled. And Ellie’s obsession twisted tighter.
She told herself she’d wait. That she’d earn your trust. That you’d come to her in time, love her the way she already loved you—desperately, painfully. But every time she saw you talking to someone else, laughing too loud with some guy in class, her hands clenched in her jacket pockets until her nails drew blood.
She followed you home twice. Not close—never too close. She just needed to see. Needed to know you were safe. That no one had touched you. That you were still hers, even if you didn’t realize it yet.
And then came the night she saw you crying on your porch, phone to your ear, voice shaking as you muttered, “It’s just been a lot lately.”
That night, Ellie sat awake in bed until 4 a.m., writing a letter she never sent. She had to be careful. She didn’t want to scare you. Not yet.
But you needed her. You’d always needed her.
And Ellie would wait. Quiet. Patient. Because love like this—raw and unshakable—wasn't something people found in this world anymore.
She just had to make you see it.
The first time Ellie spoke to you, really spoke to you, was when she “accidentally” sat next to you in the library.
You were curled up near the window, highlighters scattered across your table like candy. Your brows were furrowed, a half-finished smoothie sweating beside your laptop. You looked stressed, overwhelmed, and so goddamn beautiful in your chaos that Ellie could hardly breathe.
She slid into the seat beside you like it wasn’t calculated. Like she hadn’t waited for this exact time and day, tracked when you usually studied alone here. Her notebook hit the table with a soft thud, and you looked up, a little surprised.
“Oh… hey,” you said with a polite smile.
Ellie felt the burn of her heart thudding in her throat. “Hey. Sorry, didn’t realize this spot was taken.”
“It’s okay,” you offered quickly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You can sit. I don’t mind.”
Of course you don’t, she thought. You’re so kind. You’d let the devil sit here if he smiled the right way.
She didn’t say anything for a while. Just opened her notebook, pretending to study, even though her eyes flicked to you every other second. She watched the way your pen tapped against your notes. Watched the crease between your brows deepen.
“You look like your brain’s about to melt,” Ellie joked softly.
You laughed — you laughed — and Ellie felt her ribs close in around her lungs.
“Tell me about it,” you sighed. “I have a paper due and like, zero motivation.”
And just like that, the door cracked open. Ellie stepped inside your world with a careful smile.
“I could help, if you want. I’m decent at writing. Got a lot of practice, thanks to Dr. Collins’ essay-from-hell last semester.”
Your eyes lit up in a way that made her throat ache. “Wait — you had Collins? You survived?”
“Barely,” Ellie chuckled. “But yeah. I made it out alive.”
You scooted over just a bit, angling your laptop toward her. “I will accept any and all help. Seriously.”
And that was it. Ellie was in.
She started popping up more — casual run-ins that were anything but accidental. She brought you coffee on the days she knew you had early classes. She left sticky notes on your desk in the library with dumb little jokes. You laughed every time. It was perfect.
But then you started talking about someone. A guy.
A classmate. A friend, you said.
Ellie’s hand clenched around her pen so tight it snapped.
You didn’t notice. You just kept talking, smiling softly, voice floating with affection.
That night, Ellie followed him home.
Just watched from a distance, hoodie up, breath steady despite the adrenaline in her veins. She just needed to know where he lived. Who he was. Whether he was a threat.
And when she saw him ignore your texts, leave you on read for hours, Ellie made her decision.
He wasn’t good enough for you.
She would be patient. But not forever.
You were already hers. She was just taking her time showing you that.
Ellie didn’t sleep for days after she saw your face fall when you mentioned him again — that guy. The one who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.
She watched as you waited on campus, phone in hand, eyes scanning the crowd. You were standing outside your lecture hall, hands fidgeting with the sleeves of your sweater. You’d dressed nice today — makeup done, hair a little neater than usual.
All for him.
And he didn’t show.
Not until twenty minutes later, slouched and half-interested, offering a sheepish smile and a shrug like that could make up for your disappointment.
You smiled anyway. You always did.
Ellie’s jaw locked. Her breath stayed even. Her eyes didn’t blink.
He’d made you wait. He’d made you feel small.
She followed him home again, but this time she didn’t stay outside.
She waited until the lights in his apartment went dark. Waited until he was alone, headphones in, playing some stupid game on his console. He never even heard her come in.
The first hit wasn’t lethal. A metal pipe to the side of the knee — deliberate, punishing, shattering bone and pride in a single sickening crunch. The scream was immediate, high-pitched and raw.
She shoved him down hard, duct tape already in hand.
“I’m only going to say this once,” she muttered, eyes dark and unshaking. “You don’t talk to her again. You don’t look at her again.”
He gurgled something behind the tape, tears already running down his face.
Ellie leaned in, face inches from his. “You don’t even think about her. Got it?”
She didn’t wait for a reply. She didn’t need one.
Hours passed. Time didn’t matter. The sounds he made were pathetic, and she took her time — slow, cold, efficient. He needed to understand.
When she was done, she left him tied and bloody, tossed across the room like garbage. Alive. Barely. But enough to live in fear.
A message.
A warning.
No police report would follow — she knew his type. Weak. Cowardly. A memory she'd already erased from your life.
The next day, you looked a little confused, almost concerned. You mentioned you hadn’t heard from him.
“He probably ghosted me,” you said, trying to laugh it off. “Wouldn’t be the first time a guy flaked.”
Ellie put a hand gently on your shoulder.
“I don’t think you need someone like that anyway.”
You looked at her, softer than she expected. “Yeah,” you said quietly. “Maybe you’re right.”
You didn’t pull away when she touched your arm. You leaned into her comfort. Into her warmth.
It was working.
Ellie smiled all the way home, blood still under her nails.
You didn’t think much of it when Ellie offered to drive you home that night. You were both on campus, it was dark, cold. And you trusted her to an extent.
It was late, you were tired, and she was already waiting by your car, leaning against it like it was hers. You hesitated — maybe because something in her eyes looked different. But she smiled, soft and familiar, and you told yourself you were being paranoid.
You shouldn’t have gotten in.
The drive started off normal enough. Familiar roads. Ellie humming lowly to a song you used to love. But then she made a turn you didn’t recognize. And then another. You frowned, asked her where she was going. She didn’t answer at first — just tapped the steering wheel and said, “Shortcut.”
You stopped memorizing the turns after a while. There were too many. Too quick. Trees instead of buildings. Darkness instead of streetlights. Your phone? Gone. She'd taken it before you even noticed.
“Ellie, turn around.”
She didn’t. Her knuckles were white on the wheel, jaw tight, eyes forward.
“You’ll be safe now,” she muttered, almost to herself. “Finally.”
Your pulse pounded. You tried the door once — it was locked. The child-lock kind. Her kind.
You never expected it from her. Sweet, quiet Ellie. The one who helped you study, who brought you soup when you were sick. But this Ellie was different — sharper, obsessive, like she'd been waiting to snap.
Eventually, the road ended, and the cabin appeared — old, isolated, deep in the woods where no one could hear you scream. You begged. You reasoned. You cried. But Ellie only looked at you like she’d finally gotten everything she ever wanted.
“You don’t need anyone else,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead as she led you inside. “You have me now.”
The days began to bleed together.
You didn’t know how long you had been in Ellie’s cabin—if you could even call it that. Hidden somewhere deep in the mountains, no cell service, no internet, no roads visible from the windows. Just trees. Endless, quiet trees.
At first, you screamed. You cried. You didn’t eat.
Ellie didn’t punish you for it. She just watched. Quiet. Patient. Like a wolf waiting for a limb to go still so she could safely bite off the infection.
“You’ll feel better if you eat,” she’d whisper. Her voice low, cracked like old vinyl. “I made your favorite. I remember you said it once… back in class. Thought I wasn’t listening, huh?”
She remembered everything.
The chipped nail polish you used to wear. The way your eyes fluttered when you were nervous. The offhanded comments you made about never feeling seen.
“I see you,” she told you one night. And something in her voice made your stomach flip—not in fear. Something… deeper.
You hated that part.
You hated that after four days, your hands stopped shaking every time she opened the door. That on day five, when you cried and she wiped your tears with her thumbs, you didn’t pull away.
“It's okay,” Ellie whispered. “He’s gone. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
You wanted to scream that he didn’t hurt you. That Ellie was the only one who ever had. But your voice cracked. And you didn’t want to see that look in her eyes again—the one that was both love and danger, stitched into the same grin.
She started brushing your hair.
“I used to imagine this,” she murmured. “You, right here. Safe. Close to me.”
Her hands were gentle. Too gentle. As if afraid you'd break.
“You’re learning to trust me now, aren’t you?”
You didn’t answer. But your head leaned ever so slightly into her touch.
That night, she let you out of the room for the first time. Not outside—never outside—but into her world. Books. Sketches. Maps marked with little red Xs.
“This is everything I built… for you.”
There was a soft bed in the corner. New sheets. Lavender scented.
“You can sleep here tonight,” she said, fingers brushing your lower back. “Closer to me.”
And you did.
It wasn't trust. Not really. Maybe exhaustion. Maybe your mind, frayed from isolation. But when Ellie wrapped her arms around you under the thick quilt, and whispered “you’re mine” against your hair, something inside you cracked.
Not a break.
A splinter.
You stopped counting the days.
There was no point. No clocks, no sunlight. Just the quiet hum of Ellie’s voice when she read to you at night. The sound of her boots on the wooden floor. The soft clink of silverware she set down with each careful meal.
There was something peaceful about it—if you didn’t think too hard.
You had screamed. Begged. Raged. And still, she had stayed. Never yelling. Never raising her hand. Just watching. Waiting.
Now, you didn’t scream.
You didn’t fight when she helped you bathe. When she dried your hair with a towel that smelled like pine and her.
You didn’t flinch when she kissed your cheek and whispered, “Good girl.”
She’d reward you when you were obedient. More time out of the room. A book. A blanket from home. A drawing of you she spent hours perfecting—eyes too soft, mouth too sad.
"You’re safer now,” she murmured one night, tracing your collarbone with her fingertips. “You don’t have to run anymore.”
You didn’t answer. Because she was right. There was nowhere to run. Not anymore.
The turning point wasn’t loud. It didn’t come with violence. It came with a whisper. A flicker. A moment where you looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize the fear in your eyes anymore.
You saw her.
Ellie.
All-consuming. Ever-present. Everything.
So when she curled into bed beside you that night, wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face into the crook of your neck, you let her.
You didn’t close your eyes right away. You stared at the wooden beams above. You breathed with her. Matched her rhythm.
"I knew you’d come around,” she said softly. “I just had to be patient. You were always mine. You just didn’t know it yet.”
You didn’t cry. You didn’t flinch.
You just let her hold you, let her hand find yours, let her whisper love into your skin like it was salvation, not damnation.
In the morning, she painted your nails. Brushed your hair with a comb she’d carved your name into. Called you her wife.
You didn’t correct her. What was the point?
She kissed your temple.
“You’re perfect now,” Ellie said. “Exactly how I dreamed you’d be.”
And in her green eyes—those bright, haunting eyes—you saw it:
Obsession disguised as love. Love tainted with control.
And you?
You were no longer a prisoner. You were a possession.
And slowly—terrifyingly—you were starting to want to be.
The cabin was warm. Not just in temperature, but in the way Ellie moved through it like it was a home you built together.
Your toothbrush sat next to hers now. She’d written your name on a tag and tied it with twine.
There was a mug on the counter—chipped and faded—that said “World’s Best Wife.” You weren’t sure where she found it. You didn’t ask.
You never asked anymore. Ellie called it your honeymoon phase.
She woke you gently every morning with kisses to your shoulder. She cooked, always your favorite dishes—eggs, tomatoes, sourdough bread, strawberries. She pulled your chair out at the table and watched you eat like it was her reward for every horrible thing she'd done to bring you here.
You weren’t chained anymore. But the door was always locked.
You didn’t try it anymore, not since the last time—when she’d found you standing in the kitchen, your hand hovering over the doorknob, and her voice had gone cold in that way that turned your bones to ice.
“You’re not thinking of leaving me,” she’d said, stepping closer. “Not after everything I’ve done for you. Right, baby?”
You had nodded. Fast. Too fast. She forgave you. But not without consequence.
That night, she didn’t let you out of bed—not even for water. She held you tight, almost bruising, whispered how much it scared her to think of you gone. How she’d die without you. How she’d kill for you.
You believed her. You still did.
Now, she was too happy.
She sang while she cooked. Danced with you in the living room, hands firm on your waist, eyes never blinking. She kissed your forehead too long. Said things like “I love you more every second,” and “You don’t need anyone else. Just me.”
You nodded every time.
And yet… something in her had started to snap again.
It was little things at first. The silence when you mentioned your old life. The way her jaw clenched when you looked too long at the photo of your family she’d allowed you to keep.
Then came the photos. The ones she took of you while you were asleep. Hundreds of them.
Piled in boxes. Taped to the walls of a room you weren’t allowed to enter until she “surprised” you one night.
“I just love you so much,” she breathed, showing you the shrine. “I had to make something that felt like you were everywhere.”
You had smiled. You didn’t know what else to do.
But the worst came next.
She came back from town covered in blood.
You had asked—trembling, afraid, already knowing.
And Ellie… she didn’t lie.
“He kept asking about you,” she said. “Your ex. The one who used to text. I couldn’t have that, baby. I won’t let them take you from me.”
She cupped your cheek with her bloodied hand, eyes soft, voice like silk.
“I did it for us.”
You didn’t scream. You didn’t cry.
Because in your heart, that last thread of resistance had snapped.
You realized something then:
You weren’t staying because you were trapped.
You were staying because this was the only place her love made sense anymore.
Twisted. Devoted. Terrifying.
But yours.
More Posts from Elliespassagerprincess and Others
Headcannons: dad's best friend!abby anderson x reader
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☆ Abby is your dad’s closest friend, someone who’s always been around but never really close to you. You were just the kid in the background—until one day, you weren’t.
☆ She saw it change in real time. You grew up. You started speaking with confidence, dressing differently, looking her in the eye. And it scared the hell out of her.
☆ She resisted—tried to ignore the way your laugh lingered in her mind or the way you’d look at her like you knew. But she couldn’t stop noticing you.
☆ The first time it happened, it was a mistake. A late-night conversation on the porch after your dad went to bed. A shared bottle of whiskey. A too-long stare. Your hand brushing hers.
☆ She kissed you. Hard. Desperate. She pulled away like she'd been burned, pacing, swearing under her breath, apologizing.
☆ You told her you wanted it. She told you it couldn’t happen again. It did.
☆ She never stays the night. Never kisses you in the daylight. Never looks at you for too long in public.
☆ You sneak around like it’s life or death. Quick meetups. Locked doors. Lies stacked on lies. Sometimes it makes you sick with adrenaline. Sometimes it makes you cry.
☆ Abby keeps trying to end it—but she always comes back. She’s addicted to you, even if she won’t admit it.
☆ Abby is riddled with guilt. You’re too young. You’re your father's daughter. She’s betraying someone who trusts her with his life. But she wants you—needs you—in a way that’s primal.
☆ She hates herself for it, but you’re the only one who sees her vulnerability. When she’s with you, she lets the walls fall.
☆ You hate the hiding. Hate pretending like she’s just your dad’s friend when she’s the one who’s memorized the way your body moves and how you like your coffee.
☆ She’s older, bigger, more experienced—and sometimes, she uses that. When you’re bratty or push her buttons, she’ll pin you against a wall, palm flat beside your head, whispering, “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
☆ But you’re not powerless. You know how to get to her. How to sit in her lap like it’s innocent. How to call her “Miss Anderson” in a mocking tone just to watch her unravel.
☆ Every moment between you is coiled like a spring—either about to snap into intimacy or explode in a fight.
☆ She hates seeing you with people your age. If you flirt with someone at a party, she corners you in the hallway with fire in her eyes: “You really want to play that game, sweetheart?”
☆ She doesn’t call you hers, but she touches you like you are. Marks you where no one can see. Leaves bruises on your hips and hickeys on your inner thighs like she’s branding you.
☆ When someone else starts showing interest in you, she snaps. Shows up at your apartment. Kisses you like punishment.
☆ Every sound in the hallway makes you freeze when you're together. Every time your dad mentions Abby, your stomach flips.
☆ One close call nearly ends everything—your dad comes home early while she’s still there. You hide in your room, half-dressed, while she plays it cool like she hasn’t just kissed you breathless.
☆ After that, she disappears for days. No calls. No texts. Then she shows up in the middle of the night, eyes red, whispering “I can’t stay away.”
☆ There’s something sacred in the way she holds you in silence. Like you’re the only thing keeping her sane. The way she lets you trace the scars on her back. The way she murmurs your name like a confession.
☆ Sometimes she sneaks into your bed and stays until dawn, just holding you. You wake up to her running her fingers through your hair like she’s memorizing the way you breathe.
☆ She never says "I love you" out loud. But you hear it in the way she says your name. In the way she lingers after kissing you goodbye, her hand hesitating at the doorknob.
☆ The secrecy starts to eat at you. You want her in the open. You want her to fight for you. But she’s scared—scared of destroying your family, of losing everything.
☆ You fight. She pushes you away. You think it’s over. But then she shows up at your door during a storm, soaked, shaking, whispering, “I’d rather burn for this than live without you.”
☆ That night, you realize she loves you—but she doesn’t know how to love you in the light.
☆ There are only two options: get caught… or leave.
☆ Abby starts talking about running away. Not in a romantic way—more like survival. “If he finds out, it’s over for me. For us. I’d lose you both.”
☆ You tell her you’d follow her. She tells you not to say things like that if you don’t mean them.
☆ By day, she’s the picture of loyalty: dependable, trustworthy Abby Anderson—the friend your dad relies on, the one who helps fix the roof and grills on weekends like she’s part of the family.
☆ But by night? She’s slipping into your room when no one’s watching. Holding you like she’s starved. Kissing you like she’s trying to press her soul into your mouth.
☆ She hates the mirror lately. Hates seeing herself knowing what she’s doing. But the only time she doesn’t feel like a monster is when she’s buried in your arms.
☆ She cooks for you in secret. Not well, but she tries—burnt grilled cheese, bland pasta. You eat it anyway, legs wrapped around her hips at the kitchen counter.
☆ She keeps a drawer of your things in her apartment: a sweater, a scrunchie, a book you left behind. She told herself it was just until you took them back—but she likes seeing pieces of you there.
☆ You steal a pair of her dog tags. Wear them under your clothes like a talisman. She notices, and that night, she makes you wear nothing but them.
☆ You have a code phrase—“Are you free to talk?”—that means “I need you. Now.”
☆ You meet in quiet places: her truck parked on the cliffside at night, an old garage your dad doesn’t use, hotel rooms under fake names. Every touch is frantic. Every goodbye, heartbreaking.
☆ After every time, she tells you it’s the last. She never means it. You both pretend like the next time won’t happen, even though it always does.
☆ She hid her jealousy well—until she doesn’t. If someone else touches you, even innocently, she goes cold. Her voice sharpens. Her eyes darken. Later, she drags you into a quiet room and kisses you like she owns you.
“No one else gets to see you like this.”
“You shouldn’t be showing yourself to anyone but me.”
☆ It’s twisted, and it turns you on. But it scares her. She’s never felt this out of control before, and it makes her want to run—or hold on tighter.
☆ After she touches you, there’s always a pause. A moment of silence where she looks at you like she’s doing something unforgivable. Like she’s already lost you.
☆ Sometimes she sits at the edge of the bed, head in her hands. “I shouldn’t want this,” she whispers. “I shouldn’t want you.”
You crawl into her lap, cup her face, and say, “Then don’t make me beg.”
And that’s all it takes—her restraint shatters.
☆ She knows every inch of you—where to touch, where you’re ticklish, what makes you melt. But it’s not just sex. It’s the way her hands tremble when she unzips your hoodie. The way her breath catches when you say her name like a secret.
Her voice drops when she’s turned on. Low, rough, almost pleading.
“You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Tell me you’re mine. Even if it’s just here.”
☆ She can’t be soft in public, so she’s overwhelmingly soft in private. She holds you like a secret she’ll die to keep. Kisses your forehead. Tells you she dreams of a version of the world where this isn’t wrong.
☆ You want more. You start slipping up. Touching her shoulder when your dad’s in the room. Smiling at her too long. She panics when you get bold.
“You’re going to ruin this,” she hisses one day when you almost kiss her goodbye. “Someone will find out.”
“Then let them,” you challenge.
She grabs your wrist. “Don’t ever say that again.”
☆ It starts to hurt—loving someone in the shadows. The secrets eat at you. You wonder if she’ll ever really choose you.
☆ You tell her: “I want a life with you. I want to hold your hand in public. I want people to know you’re mine.”
☆ Abby’s voice breaks. “I want that too. But I want your dad to look me in the eye without seeing betrayal. I want to deserve you first.”
☆ A near-discovery shakes everything. Maybe someone sees you leaving her place at dawn. Maybe your dad borrows her phone and sees your contact.
☆ Abby freaks out. Cuts contact. Says it’s over. You cry. She watches from a distance, agonizing over it.
☆ Then, weeks later—she shows up at your door again. Hands shaking. Heart bare. “I tried. I can’t stop. I need you.”
☆ She finally asks you to leave with her. No more hiding. No more pretending.
“Let’s go somewhere no one knows us. I’ll build us a life. Just say the word.”
i love emily im sorry soo much,, do you think u could please write an ellie x reader based on the song night shift by lucy dacus?? i think is a good song to make a fic <3
night shift - (ellie williams x reader)
hi anon! thank you sm for the compliment! And yes it's literally is an amazing song for a angst fic! I hope you enjoy:)
This story is based off the song Night shift by Lucy Dacus, 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: sadness and cheating
Summary: In which you were the other women
wc: 1.8k + the lyrics
The first time I tasted somebody else's spit, I had a coughing fit
I mistakenly called them by your name
I was let down, it wasn't the same
I'm doing fine, trying to derail my one-track mind
Regaining my self-worth in record time
But I can't help but think of your other in the bed that was mine
The day Ellie Williams asked you out was truly the best day of your life.
It all started with small smiles, gentle touches and loving gazes. You knew from the first day you laid eyes on Ellie, that you wanted to be with her. And never in a million dreams did you think that you stood a chance with someone as beautiful such as Ellie.
You didn't regret asking her for her number. You didn't regret saying yes when she asked you on a date that day. But the more you think about it, the more realized maybe you should’ve said no.
"Hi I'm Ellie’s girlfriend, is she here today?" The girl asked with a smile on her face.
oh.
Girlfriend?
Ellie was never mentioned anything about a girlfriend to you.
Fuck.
"Oh hey Cat" you heard Ellie’s voice from behind you. You turned around and you and the autumn brown haired girl made eye contact.
Ellie’s eyes widened when she saw you were talking to Cat, but her shock was soon replaced by her signature smirk.
"Hi babe" Cat greeted Ellie cheerfully "can we talk?" She asked. Ellie gave her a quick nod as she walked out from behind the counter. As Ellie and cat walked away she reached down to grab the girls hand and if felt like you've been stabbed.
You quickly excused yourself and you ran down the hall in the storage room where you and Ellie would always meet each other.
Holy shit.
She had a girlfriend? What? You thought she liked you?
You and Ellie were never official, but you went on dates. You held hands. You kissed her for fucks sake. You were the other women. Ellie didn't care for you as much as you thought. She was using you.
You heard the door handle of the storage room rattle. You looked up and you quickly wiped away your tears: "Ellie?" You questioned, with a hopeful voice.
"No it's me!" You heard Dina’s voice yelled back. "Ellie went home with her girlfriend so you'll have to take her shift"
You let out a sigh as you felt the tears flow freely once again.
You were supposed to be mad at her. You were supposed to hate her. But you called out for her? You would never admit it out loud but you were actually waiting for her. You were waiting for Ellie to come and apologize and to say that this was all a misunderstanding. You silently sat there crying.
You were the other women.
Am I a masochist, resisting urges to punch you in the teeth?
Call you a bitch and leave?
Why did I come here? To sit and watch you stare at your feet?
What was the plan? Absolve your guilt and shake hands?
If you truly hated Ellie like you claimed you did, you wouldn't have opened your apartment door that night.
That one faithful evening in September, when you heard a knock on your door.
“Who the fuck could that be?” you muttered to yourself as you got up from bed rubbing your eyes.
You look over to your phone if see it's 1:00am. You yawned as you walked to the front door. You opened it and your eyes were met with the girl who broke your heart all those months ago.
The girl you thought you would be spending the rest of your life with.
She looked at you, her normally neat hair was a messy, dark circles under her eyes.
god you thought you looked bad.
"What are you doing here Ellie?" You asked.
She could've come to you a long time ago and suddenly she shows up? What does she want? Does she want to get back together? Is she here to beg for forgiveness?
"Jesse told me that you were serious when you said you wanted to work the night shift" she spoke, as she brought her right hand up to awkwardly scratch the back of her neck.
You didn’t know if you wanted to punch her or kiss her.
Ellie’s gaze fell down to her feet and the two of you were surrounded by silence.
Since when is it so quite at 1 in the morning?
"Why are you here?" You finally asked again.
Ellie looked up at you once again. She hesitated. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. The words weren't coming out.
‘she's so fucking pathetic’ you thought to yourself.
"Are you here to apologize? To make yourself feel better?", you spoke again.
Ellie looked taken aback, her facial expression morphed into a face of confusion? Hurt? You couldn't tell.
"I love you-" Ellie started, you let out a laugh even before she could finish.
"If you loved me, why was I the other women?" You questioned.
Ellie fell silent. She stared at you. She was at a loss for words. How could you say such a thing? You knew nothing about her situation. You didn't know that she can Cat had been in a loveless relationship for years. You didn't know how much she loved you. You didn't know how alive you made her feel.
Ellie was brought back to reality when you spoke: "You can't even fucking speak to me".
You let out a sigh as you took a step back to close the door. Ellie’s large hand reached out to try and stop it, but you were too quick. You closed the door in her face. Ellie put her forehead against your front door as tears streamed down her cheeks. She heard your voice from behind the door:
"You are such a fucking bitch Williams"
Ellie turned away from your door, her hand gripping her shirt as she started sobbing.
Loud sounds of crying filled the quite streets of Jackson as Ellie stood at your door realizing that she lost you.
I feel no need to forgive, but I might as well
But let me kiss your lips, so I know how it felt
Pay for my coffee and leave before the sun goes down
Walk for hours in the dark, feeling all hell
"I think I should start working the night shift" you told Jesse one morning.
"dude I thought you hated it"
You went quite for a moment. You did hate it. But you couldn't stand working another shift looking at Ellie. Even being in her presence made your heart yearn for her. If feels like you've been starved for years without Ellie’s touch. And you fear that even if your finger just lightly touched her you'd lose your mind.
You already felt guilty enough when you found out Ellie had a girlfriend, you didn't want to make a fool out of yourself by confessing your undying love to her.
You walked out of Jesse's office and into the locker room. Ellie was in there. You walked right past her, going to your locker you quickly pulled out your bag.
"Wait our shifts are starting right now, where are you going?" She questioned.
"I'm working the night shift from now on" you replied as you made your way to the door. You felt so cold hand grab your wrist and when you turned around and you were met with Ellie’s pleading eyes.
"If you work night shift I won't be able to see you" she spoke softly.
You forcefully removed your arm from Ellie’s grip.
"go see your fucking girlfriend"
You turned away from Ellie, walking to the door and you stopped. It was as if your feet were glued to the floor. You slowly turned around to face Ellie once again.
"I'll never be able to forgive you" you muttered softly and you looked at the girl you had so much love for.
"Please try" Ellie begged.
"I'll leave her" Ellie quickly reasoned with you, to make you stay.
You shook your head as you dropped your bag onto the floor. You made your way towards Ellie as you once again muttered “I can't fucking forgive you" as you wrapped your arms her neck, her lips soon crashed into yours.
The kiss was intense. You've been starved from Ellie, and this was your first taste in months.
Teeth crashing into each other, heavy breathes filled the room, and hands were roaming.
You pulled away and you looked at Ellie for the last time.
Her eyes blown wide, her lips swollen her chest rapidly rising.
You once again moved from her grip as you picked up your bag.
You stood the door once more. Before you walked out the door you turned to Ellie one last time, giving her a small "I love you" was the last words she ever spoke to you.
Don't hold your breath, forget you ever saw me at my best
You don't deserve what you don't respect
Don't deserve what you say you love and then neglect
Now bite your tongue, it's too dangerous to fall so young
Take back what you said
Can't lose what you never had
You don't even know why you're upset. Why were you so fucking depressed over a relationship that never even happened?
All you do is fantasize over a relationship that wasn't even real.
What you could've been. And you know you were being delusional when you thought you had a chance with her, and yet you still fell for her.
But we all learn the hard way don't we?
You can't be sad over something that wasn't even yours to being with.
All you had to do was suck it up and get to work. You'd eventually get over Ellie. And you'd be happy again, right?
As much as you try to convince yourself, you aren't so sure you can see a happy life without Ellie.
The girl you thought was your soulmate.
You got a 9-to-5, so I'll take the night shift
And I'll never see you again, if I can help it
In five years, I hope the songs feel like covers
Dedicated to new lovers
"Are you sure you want to take the night shift?" Jesse asked you one last time.
"I'm sure" you replied
Even though you hated the night shift it got you away from Ellie. You didn't have to see her at your workplace. You don't have to constantly be reminded about what the two of you could've been.
"Remember Ellie will come in at 9 tomorrow" Jesse yelled as he walked out the front door of the Café. He gave you a small wave, as the bell chimed when the door finally closed.
"yeah I know" you yelled back.
You hoped that one day you'd stop working the night shift.
And maybe, just maybe you'd be able to move on from Ellie.
But till then you'd rather torture yourself than to be in the same room as Ellie fucking Williams.
Authors note: guess who disappeared and whos suddenly back again? obviously me.... remember you are loved and to always be kind, my requests are always open
yours truly,
Zia<3
ohh i love your works smmm <3 can i request more loser ellie hc? fluff & nsfw <333
Headcannons: loser!ellie x reader
Part 1 Part 2
Sfw:
☆ Loser Ellie who took you stargazing on the second date.
There was no cloud in the sky as the two of you lay on the soft pink blanket Ellie brought. You were amazed by the stars, and Ellie was amazed by your beauty. She could stare at you for hours.
Ellie was lost in a trance before she heard your voice “what are you looking at?”
Ellie’s throat went dry. Her cheeks tinted pink, she’s been fucking caught.
“the air” she lied all you did was shake your head.
☆ Loser Ellie who refused to touch you because she was so shy. Even holding your hand scared her.
☆ Loser Ellie who had multiple accounts to stalk you because she was afraid that you might think she was weird for watching you every move.
☆ Loser Ellie who was too scared to make a move, and in the process she was pushing you away.
☆ Loser Ellie who didn’t touch you, who didn’t make eye contact with you and you truly felt unwanted.
☆ Loser Ellie who went to your house one night when she saw a picture of you kissing someone else.
She knocked on your front door. She was confused. Angry. Sad. Jealous.
The door opened and there you stood in all your glory.
“What the fuck do you want Ellie?” you asked with a huff.
Ellie’s gaze fell to the floor before she spoke in a whisper “who was she?”
“what?” you questioned
“who was she? The girl you kissed”
“that has nothing to do with you”
Ellie made eye contact with you for the first time in a long time
“it fucking does. We- i- I thought we had something”
“We have fucking nothing Ellie” you replied harshly
“you make me feel unwanted, and so I moved one”
You watched Ellie turn around to walk away and before you closed the door, she ran back to you, grabbing your face for a kiss.
She pulled away looking at you with wide eyes “I’m sorry” was all she said before she ran away.
☆ Loser Ellie who ignored your calls and texts.
☆ Loser Ellie who buys you things that she thinks you would like and she just kept it in her room hoping she’d get the guts to face you again.
☆ Loser Ellie who wrote you letter but she never sent them to you.
☆ Loser Ellie who tries not to cry when she sees pictures of you and other people.
☆ Loser Ellie who has a photo album dedicated to pictures that she thinks you would like. It was a collection of flowers, stuffed animals, memes just things that reminded her of you.
☆ Loser Ellie who loses her shit when she can’t find the letter she wrote you.
“Dina where’s the letters?” she yelled as she threw her clothes from her closet onto the floor.
“I gave it to her”
“what?”
“Ellie-“Dina sighed “you’re losing your fucking mind because of her, I had to do something”
☆ Loser Ellie who wasn’t even mad because you arrived at her apartment.
Before you could even open your mouth Ellie confessed:
“I’m in love with you”
you chuckled at her confession “I know els I read the letters”
And just like that you kissed her. It was a real kiss. Ellie didn’t want you to pull away but you had to tell her something
“in one of the letters you said that I’m the light in your life, that was very poetic” Ellie blushed before she replied
“yeah you are, but can I kiss you again?”
☆ Loser Ellie who asked you to be her girlfriend the next day with a poster because she couldn’t ask you the question.
☆ Loser Ellie who started punching the air when you said yes forgetting you were there. She was very embarrassed afterwards.
☆ Loser Ellie whose palms were so sweaty the first time you held her hand that you kept wiping your hands off.
☆ Loser Ellie who gains more confidence while being with you.
☆ Loser Ellie who has polaroids of you all over her room.
☆ Loser Ellie who has one of your sweaters that she sleeps with every night because she missed you and she was too scared to ask if you wanted to come over.
☆ Loser Ellie who waits at her phone for you to respond.
☆ Loser Ellie who doesn’t always text first because she doesn’t to annoy you.
☆ Loser Ellie who paints her nails your favorite color.
☆ Loser Ellie who secretly gets your initial tattooed behind her ear.
☆ Loser Ellie who buys you both matching outfits, bracelets, shoes, literally she wants to match everything with you.
nsfw:
☆ Loser Ellie who almost combusts when you wore lingerie for the first time.
“holy shit” she breathed when you walked out the bathroom.
“you like it?” you asked with a shy smile.
“I fucking love it, now come fuck me”
☆ Loser Ellie who’s a switch.
☆ Loser Ellie who likes when you ride her because she gets to suck your tits.
☆ Loser Ellie who loves it when she can leave hickeys on you (especially between your thighs)
☆ Loser Ellie who gets most of her pleasure from giving you pleasure.
☆ Loser Ellie who sucks your fingers after you made her cum multiple times.
☆ Loser Ellie who can stay hours in between your legs.
☆ Loser Ellie who’s scared to try new things.
“I want to try something new” she spoke one afternoon
“what?”
Suddenly Ellie went quiet. Should she really ask you?
“i- um- if you d-don’t want to its ok”
“Ellie talk”
“sit on my face please?”
☆ Loser Ellie who like it when you sit on her face. She could die this way honestly, being suffocated by you.
☆ Loser Ellie who keeps your underwear, and she has a whole collection.
☆ Loser Ellie who buys lingerie for you because she’d always imagine how’d you look wearing them.
☆ Loser Ellie who keeps the nudes you send her. She has a special folder.
☆ Loser Ellie who has polaroid’s of you in underwear that she uses to get off.
☆ Loser Ellie who gets turned on when you breathe, so she’s constantly ready to pounce on you when you give her the chance.
☆ Loser Ellie who can never get tired of you.
☆ Loser Ellie who wished she’d met you earlier
ok ok but band!Ellie x reader based on Brooklyn baby by Lana del Rey…
hi anon! this app hates me and I really struggled posting this. I had to post your fic separately!
here it is
I hope you enjoy<3
i love your writing so much, it’s so refreshing seeing unique prompts 😭 <3
oh my god, thank you sm! I really appreciate it! I really do try to add different things in each of my posts to spice it up y'know? Im so happy you like my work<33
Under her desk - ellie williams x reader
pairing: ceo!ellie williams x secratery fem!reader
requests are open, send me your thoughts:)
Warnings: MDNI Explicit sexual content (18+): intense sexual tension, implied oral sex, semi-public workplace sex, voyeurism, jealous/possessive behavior
Summary: You're her secretary—organized, polite, and always on time. She's the boss—cold, brilliant, and merciless. But every glance from Ellie lingers too long. Every touch burns. And every closed-door meeting gets harder to forget.
masterlist
MONDAY
The first time Ellie Williams looks at you that way, you think you imagined it.
It’s just a glance. A flicker of her eyes up your legs as you place the morning reports on her desk. But there’s a pause—half a second too long before she meets your gaze, green eyes heavy-lidded and unreadable behind wire-rimmed glasses.
“Thank you,” she says. Her voice is a low hum, raspy from lack of sleep or too much coffee. Or both. You nod, trying not to look at her mouth. Trying not to notice how she licks her lower lip when she turns back to the screen.
You walk out of her glass-walled office trying not to blush, legs unsteady under your pencil skirt. You shouldn’t have worn that lipstick. But the thing is—you know what you’re doing.
And so does she.
WEDNESDAY
Ellie Williams is brilliant, successful, and terrifying. She doesn’t waste time with small talk. She hates lateness. She reads contracts like they’re storybooks and intimidates men twice her age with a single look.
She’s also annoyingly hot.
You’ve spent the last three weeks working under her, literally and figuratively, and she hasn’t so much as smiled at you. Until now.
“Shut the door,” she says one morning, not looking up from her laptop. Her voice is low, authoritative.
You close it behind you, pulse skipping.
“Come here.”
She slides a file across her glass desk. You step closer than necessary, your hand brushing hers as you take it. It’s electric. It feels intentional.
“Read this clause,” she says, tapping a page. “Tell me what’s wrong with it.”
You lean over. She leans back in her chair, one leg crossing over the other slowly, eyes fixed not on the paper—but on you. You can feel her stare. Your skin burns under it.
“That’s… ambiguous wording,” you murmur. “It leaves too much room for liability.”
Her lips curve just slightly. You did well.
And then she says it: “You’re smarter than you look.”
You swallow. “You don’t know how I look.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Don’t I?”
It’s dangerous. Everything about her is. But you leave her office feeling like you just passed a test.
FRIDAY NIGHT
The building is empty.
You stayed late because she asked. A simple email: Stay after hours. Need you to help draft a response.
No “please.” No “thank you.” But you came.
Her office is dimly lit. Just her desk lamp and the amber glow from the city skyline outside.
Ellie’s jacket is off. Her sleeves rolled up. Tattoos exposed. Her jaw tight as she types. You stand nearby, heart pounding.
“Come here,” she says again, voice lower now. Rough.
You step beside her. She gestures at the screen, scrolling through a client proposal. But her hand brushes your hip. She doesn’t move it.
You don’t breathe.
“You smell like cinnamon,” she murmurs suddenly, almost distracted.
“It’s my lotion.”
“I like it.”
There’s silence.
You turn to her—slowly.
Ellie’s eyes flick to your lips. Your knees go weak. She leans in. So close. Not kissing. Just hovering—like she’s daring you.
“I’m your boss,” she says, whispering it like a sin.
“I know,” you whisper back.
“I shouldn’t want you.”
“But you do.”
Her hand grips your hip. You don’t know who kisses first.
But once her mouth is on yours, everything blurs. She pulls you onto her lap, fingers tangled in your hair, tongue sliding past your lips with a groan that makes your spine arch.
Her mouth is hot, desperate, possessive.
But the moment is short-lived. She pulls back, breathless, eyes wild.
“Get out,” she says harshly.
You freeze. “Ellie—”
“I said get out.”
You leave shaking. But she doesn’t stop you because she regrets it. She stops you because if you stayed, she would’ve had you on her desk.
WEEK LATER
She avoids you all week. Short emails. Clipped instructions. Barely looks at you.
It hurts. But you understand.
Power. Rules. Risk.
Still, she calls you into her office on Thursday. You go, heart hammering.
She’s pacing. Frustrated.
“I can’t think,” she snaps. “Not with you out there.”
You blink. “Did I do something wrong?”
Ellie stops. Looks at you like you’re the problem and the solution.
“You’re perfect,” she whispers. “That’s the problem.”
And then she’s kissing you again—this time rough, frantic. She shoves everything off her desk in one motion, making you gasp.
“Sit,” she growls.
You do.
And then her mouth is on your neck, your blouse unbuttoned, her hands everywhere, as if she’s waited months for this.
You moan her name—soft, breathy. She freezes.
Then she says it: “You’re mine.”
You nod. “Yes.”
You start sneaking around. Closed doors. Locked meeting rooms. Lingering touches behind your desk.
Ellie becomes obsessed.
She buys you new pens just because she saw you chewing the caps. Schedules “private reviews” that last way too long. Texts you when you’re home just to say, "Wanna come back and help me ‘finish something?’”
She doesn’t date anyone else. You check. But she doesn’t call you her girlfriend, either.
Power. Risk. Rules.
But in her eyes—in the way her thumb traces your lips after she kisses you—you know.
You own her, too.
MONDAY
The worst part isn’t that you kissed your boss. It’s that you keep doing it.
Ellie’s office becomes a second home for secrets: stolen kisses, whispered confessions, shaky breaths against frosted glass. But it never goes further than that—not fully.
There’s always a line.
Sometimes you think she’s drawing it. Sometimes, you think she’s one step from erasing it completely.
And every time she stops, the excuse is always the same.
“I can’t afford to lose you.”
You don’t know if she means as her assistant… or something more.
TUESDAY
Ellie starts acting weird.
She stares at you when she thinks you don’t notice. She double-texts you at night, then apologizes. Her fingers shake slightly when you hand her coffee. But she still never says what she wants.
And you’re getting tired of pretending.
“Are we going to talk about this?” you finally ask, one evening after everyone’s left. You’re leaning in her office doorway, arms crossed. She’s behind her desk, eyes on her screen but clearly distracted.
She doesn’t look at you.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Ellie.”
Now she looks up. Her jaw tightens.
“It’s dangerous,” she says quietly. “This is my company. You’re my employee. If anyone finds out—”
“I’d be the one who gets fired,” you cut in.
Her face shifts. There it is. The truth.
“I would never let that happen,” she says, voice low and deadly. “You have no idea what I’d do to protect you.”
You step forward slowly. “Then stop hiding me.”
She looks like she wants to say something. Instead, she stands. Walks around her desk. Stops a breath away. Her hand brushes your wrist.
And she whispers: “I don’t hide you. I hide us. Because once people know, they’ll want to take you from me.”
There’s something unhinged in her voice. Soft, but sharp. Like she’s thought about it too much. Like she’s scared of how far she’d go.
FRIDAY
You try to act normal.
Emails. Schedules. Morning coffee runs. But Ellie keeps breaking the façade. She calls you in five times for "review." Never talks about work. Just stares at you. Sometimes says something ridiculous like, “You wore that on purpose” or “I had a dream about you.”
And then there are the nights. Her texts turn softer, needier.
Ellie: Are you in bed?
Ellie: Can I call?
Ellie: Just wanna hear your voice.
You let her. And when she breathes your name into the phone, quiet and rough, it makes your heart ache. Because this doesn’t feel casual anymore. It feels like it’s killing her to keep you a secret.
SUNDAY
You show up to her apartment for the first time.
Ellie doesn’t even pretend to play it cool. She opens the door in a black tee and sweatpants, hair a mess, eyes tired like she hasn’t slept in days.
“You came.”
“You asked me to.”
She pulls you in without a word. Kisses you like it’s oxygen. Like she’s been holding her breath all week.
You don’t leave until 3AM.
There’s no sex. Just tangled limbs. Soft kisses. Ellie’s head resting on your chest like she needs to be near your heartbeat.
You stroke her hair, whispering, “Why do you make this so hard?”
And her answer is quiet. “Because if I ever lost you, I’d never recover.”
WEDNESDAY
It happens. You get caught.
You didn’t even notice the door was cracked open.
You were leaning on her desk, Ellie between your legs, her hand up your thigh, whispering something filthy against your neck.
And someone—probably an intern—saw it.
You don’t find out until later, when HR sends Ellie a request for a "private meeting." That afternoon, Ellie storms into your little cubicle, eyes wild, pulse in her throat.
“We’re not hiding anymore,” she says, grabbing your hand in front of the whole floor.
“Ellie—”
“Let them talk. Let them guess. I don’t give a damn.”
She pulls you into her office, slams the door, and kisses you like it’s the only thing that matters.
And that night, she finally takes you home again—but this time, there’s no restraint.
This time, she makes love to you like she’s claiming territory. Like she’s trying to memorize everything, in case the world tries to take it away.
ONE WEEK LATER
Ellie is pacing. You're seated across her office, legs crossed, heart pounding.
“You’re not just my secretary anymore,” she says. “You haven’t been for a while.”
You look at her. “So what now?”
She stops. Walks to you. Kneels—yes, kneels—between your legs and rests her head in your lap.
“We rewrite the rules.”
You card your fingers through her hair.
“And if they fire you?” you ask
Ellie looks up at you with that same fire in her eyes.
“They won’t. But if they do? I’ll build my own damn company. Put your name on the front. Hire myself as your assistant.”
You laugh. You kiss her.
And you both know you’re done pretending.
MONDAY
It starts with a look. Ellie walks in late—coffee in hand, sleeves rolled up, jaw sharp—and heads straight to your desk. She pauses. Leans down.
You think she’s going to whisper something.
But no.
She presses a soft kiss to your cheek.
Right there. In front of everyone. You freeze. So does the office.
Conversations stop. Keyboards go quiet. Someone drops their pen.
Ellie stands up straight, totally unfazed.
“Good morning, baby,” she says like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
And then she heads to her office. Just like that, everyone knows.
By lunch, the office is buzzing.
“Did you see that?”
“I thought she was single.”
“Isn’t that her boss?”
“There’s no way that’s allowed.”
“I heard they were already hooking up for weeks.”
You try to focus on your screen, but it’s impossible. Every glance in your direction lingers too long. You hear your name more in whispered tones than anyone should in a professional setting.
But Ellie? She acts like it’s nothing. Like she hasn’t just lit the entire building on fire with one kiss.
The next day, HR calls Ellie in again. You sit at your desk, sick with anxiety.
She walks out 30 minutes later, face unreadable. You follow her to her office, shut the door behind you.
“What happened?”
She exhales. “They’re not happy. But technically, I didn’t break any rules.”
“Technically?”
She shrugs. “We’re adults. Consensual. No direct coercion or manipulation. I didn’t promote you or change your pay. Legally, they can’t fire either of us.”
“But they’re watching now,” you murmur.
Ellie steps closer. “Let them.”
You overhear two coworkers talking about you in the breakroom later that week. Something crude. Something about how “you must be really good at keeping her attention” if the boss is that obsessed.
You walk out before they see you. Embarrassed. Furious. Ellie notices immediately.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you lie.
She doesn’t believe you. Of course she doesn’t. Twenty minutes later, you hear her voice—raised—from down the hall.
“Say it again. I dare you.”
You stand up. Heart racing. Ellie’s got one of the men cornered, towering over him with a calm, cold fury that could freeze lava.
“She’s smarter than everyone in this damn building. And if I hear you speak about her like that again, you won’t be working here anymore.”
He stammers. Apologizes. She doesn't back off.
“She’s not just mine—she’s the best thing about this place.”
The entire office hears.
You’re both in her car. The sun is setting. You’re quiet. Ellie’s gripping the steering wheel a little too tight.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” she mutters. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
She looks at you.
“Because I want to protect you so badly it scares me.”
You reach over, touch her arm.
“I’ve never had anyone stand up for me like that.”
She exhales slowly.
“I’m yours,” you whisper.
And Ellie—tough, stoic Ellie—closes her eyes like she’s holding back tears.
“I’ve been yours since the first day you walked into my office,” she confesses.
THURSDAY
You didn’t think she’d go public with it. But she does.
At the company-wide meeting, Ellie is cool and composed as ever. She addresses the quarterly goals, talks profits and projections. Then, at the end:
“One more thing.”
She glances at you.
“I want to address the elephant in the room. Yes, I’m in a relationship with my secretary. It’s not a secret anymore. And if anyone has a problem with it, take it up with HR. Or better yet, with me.”
Silence.
Then applause. Actual applause. You’re stunned.
She doesn’t smile. Doesn’t wink. Just steps down, professional and poised, like she didn’t just dismantle the gossip mill with a single announcement.
Later, in her office, she pulls you in by the waist and murmurs, “They’re never touching you. Not even with words.”
Ellie books a meeting room. Not for work. Just to eat lunch with you away from the eyes. She brings you your favorite sandwich. Sits close. Hands brushing under the table.
“Is this okay?” she asks quietly. “I know it’s messy.”
You smile. “I’d sit under your desk again if I had to.”
Ellie laughs—real, unguarded.
Then she leans in. Presses a kiss to your knuckles.
“I’m not letting them shame us. You’re not a secret. You’re everything.”
MONDAY
Things have mostly gone back to normal.
Well—office normal. People don’t whisper quite as loudly anymore. HR stopped breathing down Ellie’s neck. And you’ve found a quiet rhythm with her—sneaking kisses in her office, flirty texts during boring meetings, soft nights tangled in her sheets. But there's still a tension in the air. Like something’s waiting to snap.
Like you’re both still holding back.
TUESDAY
His name’s Jordan. New hire. Tech department.
Cute in a safe, unthreatening way—gelled hair, bright smile, button-ups that are a little too fitted. He’s harmless. Probably.
Until he starts showing up at your desk. First it’s innocent. A shared joke. A smile. Then it escalates.
“You’ve got the prettiest eyes in this whole office.”
You glance up from your computer. “Thanks.”
“Bet that’s how you got hired, huh?” he laughs, like it’s funny.
You go cold. “Excuse me?”
“I mean—c’mon. The boss is, like, obsessed with you. Can’t blame her.”
You stand up. “That’s completely inappropriate.”
He just smirks. “Relax. It’s a compliment.”
You don’t even answer. You walk. Straight to Ellie’s office.
You barely shut the door before her voice sharpens. “What happened?”
You tell her everything. She’s already grabbing her jacket before you finish.
“I’ll talk to him,” you say quickly. “You don’t have to—”
But her eyes have darkened.
“I do have to. Because he crossed a line and because you’re mine.”
You swallow.
“Ellie—”
“No. I’m done being polite.”
The entire office is silent again.
Ellie’s voice slices through the air like a blade.
“I don’t care if you’re new or stupid or both. You don’t talk to her like that. You don’t look at her like that. You don’t breathe near her unless she wants you to.”
Jordan stammers. Ellie steps closer.
“She’s not your peer. She’s not your flirt project. She’s mine. And if you can’t understand what respect looks like, you’ll be out of a job faster than you can blink.”
Jordan nods, practically shaking. You’ve never seen her like this.
Furious. Cold. Protective.
And so, so in love.
She slams her office door shut. You sit quietly.
Ellie’s pacing. Her hands run through her hair, jaw clenched. She won’t even look at you.
“Are you okay?” you ask gently.
She stops.
“I hate it,” she whispers. “I hate the idea of someone touching you. Someone thinking they have a right to you.”
“Ellie—”
“No. I’ve been trying so fucking hard not to say it.”
You freeze. She walks up to you slowly. Cups your face in both hands.
“But I’m in love with you.”
Your breath catches.
“I didn’t want to scare you,” she murmurs. “Didn’t want to say it too soon. But I love you. And I’d burn this whole company down if someone hurt you.”
Your heart is racing.
“Say it again.”
She leans in, forehead to yours.
“I love you.”
You kiss her like you’ve been dying to for weeks. Deep. Grateful. Starving. And when you pull back, breathless, your smile is shaking.
“I love you too.”
Ellie’s whole body relaxes. Like she’s been waiting to exhale for months.
You’re at her place. You’re in her bed, skin warm from her touch, her fingers brushing your bare spine.
Ellie whispers into your hair: “You’re mine. And not because I’m your boss. Not because you work for me. Because I chose you.”
You whisper it back. And when she falls asleep with her arms around you, you realize something:
You were never under her desk. You were always under her skin.
FRIDAY, 6:42 P.M
The office is nearly empty.
It’s the end of the quarter. People went home early. Laughter and footsteps faded around 5:00. The air has that hollow, humming stillness that only comes after hours. Fluorescent lights dimmed. Elevator chimes long gone.
You should go home. You both should.
But Ellie’s door is closed. And your back is pressed to it.
Her mouth is on your neck, hot and open and needy.
You moan quietly, hands fisting the front of her shirt, body arching as her thigh presses between your legs, her grip firm at your waist.
“Ellie,” you whisper. “Someone could—”
“Shh.” Her voice is low, rough. Her lips brush your ear. “They’re all gone.”
You glance toward the glass panels. She’s pulled the blinds halfway, but it’s still risky.
And yet… You don’t stop her.
You're sitting on the edge of her desk now. Skirt bunched. Blazer long gone.
Ellie’s shirt is open—collar popped, chest rising fast. She’s in her chair between your knees, one hand gripping your thigh, the other sliding dangerously high.
“Look at me,” she commands softly.
You do.
God, you do.
Because Ellie in the office chair—tie loosened, hair mussed, eyes heavy with lust—is your undoing.
“You always sit here like this when you’re typing,” she murmurs, dragging her fingers up your inner thigh. “And you expect me to focus?”
“Ellie—” you gasp.
Her fingers brush against your soaked underwear. She smiles.
“Such a fucking distraction.”
You kiss her hard, teeth knocking. Desperate. Uncoordinated. Hot.
Then she slips her fingers beneath the lace and—
“Hey, boss, I—oh my God—”
You jolt.
Ellie jerks away, instantly on her feet, shielding you with her body. Your heart is pounding. Face flushed. Skirt still hiked. Her hands still warm on your hips.
In the doorway: Jordan. Eyes wide. Frozen.
“GET. OUT.” Ellie’s voice is a snarl.
He stammers, backs out, slams the door behind him.
You’re gasping.
Ellie’s jaw is clenched so hard, you think it might crack.
You fix your clothes in a daze. Ellie watches you. Still breathing heavily. Still angry.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “That was reckless.”
She walks up behind you. Wraps her arms around your waist. Buries her face in your shoulder.
“I don’t regret it.”
You turn, eyes meeting hers.
“Are you okay?”
She nods. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Ellie—”
“Not literally. Probably.”
You laugh, a little shakily. She presses her forehead to yours.
“I can’t keep my hands off you.”
“I don’t want you to.”
MONDAY
The entire office knows. Again.
Jordan’s quiet. Pale. Avoids you like the plague. Ellie calls a full department meeting. Not for discipline—but for clarity.
She looks every single employee dead in the eye and says: “Yes. We’re together. Yes, it’s serious. No, it’s not casual. And if anyone thinks about violating our privacy again, I will escalate it to legal.”
You feel the burn of her protectiveness long after she finishes speaking.
She pulls you into her office. Locks the door. This time, just to kiss you slow.
“Maybe I should move you out of the secretary role,” she murmurs. “Not because of the rumors. Because I need you close—and this isn’t sustainable.”
“Are you firing me as your secretary?”
“I’m promoting you,” she says with a smirk. “To something safer. Something that means I don’t have to hold back.”
Your heart flutters.
“Is that even allowed?”
“I’m the boss,” she says. “It’s whatever I say it is.”
Sports car- ellie williams x reader
This story is based off the song Sports car by Tate Mcrae. 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: MDNI 18+ Mature content. Emotional detachment, lust, sexual themes, smut, strap-usage (r receiving)
Summary: in which she took you for a ride
masterlist
She drove like she kissed—reckless, sharp, and impossible to forget.
The city lights blurred through the passenger window as Ellie floored it, her hand resting casually on your thigh, fingers tapping out some beat only she knew. You had told yourself you weren’t going to fall again, but here you were—burning for someone who didn’t promise anything. Someone who wouldn’t slow down.
You turned your head and caught her smirk as the engine roared. She looked like she belonged behind the wheel of something fast. Something dangerous. Something just like her.
“You okay?” she asked, like she didn’t already know the answer.
“Are you?” you shot back.
Her fingers pressed a little firmer into your skin.
“Come here,” she muttered, taking a sharp turn that made your heart stutter. She pulled into the back of an empty parking garage, shadows swallowing the car whole.
The world fell quiet.
She leaned over the console and kissed you like she was trying to leave a mark. It wasn’t gentle—never was with Ellie. Her tongue pushed past your lips, one hand threading into your hair while the other slid up beneath your hoodie. She dragged her nails along your ribs, and your hips shifted toward her without thinking.
“Climb over,” she said, voice low and commanding.
You didn’t hesitate. You straddled her lap, knees pressed to the leather seat, hands in her hair. She pulled your hoodie off in one clean motion, mouthing along your collarbone, biting when you whimpered.
Her hands were everywhere—rough, searching, greedy.
“Think I’m obsessed with you,” she murmured, dragging her mouth down to your chest, tongue teasing a nipple before she sucked hard enough to make you gasp. “Or maybe I just like the way you fall apart for me.”
You tugged at her shirt, exposing the ink that curled around her ribs. Your fingers skimmed the scars on her shoulder, the ones she never talked about. She shivered, but not from the cold.
“You always drive this fast?” you asked, voice thick.
“Only when I’m trying to outrun something,” she said, pulling a condom from the glovebox with one hand while kissing you breathless with the other.
Her jeans were undone in seconds. You pushed her back, straddling her again as she guided you down slowly onto her strap. The stretch made your head fall to her shoulder.
“Fuck—” she hissed, hands gripping your waist as you started to move. “Just like that, baby…”
The car smelled like sweat and sex and the faint scent of pine from the old air freshener swinging by the mirror. You rode her hard, chasing that sharp edge, watching her eyes darken as she lost herself beneath you.
Your name fell from her lips like a confession.
She came first, hands trembling, mouth open against your throat. You followed seconds later, collapsing against her as your heart raced like her engine.
You stayed like that for a moment. Silent. Breathing each other in.
But Ellie was already lighting a cigarette, window cracked, profile cold in the moonlight.
You leaned back, pulling your hoodie over your bare chest.
“You always leave after?” you asked, knowing the answer.
She looked at you. Quiet. Apologetic in that way that never changed anything.
“I don’t know how to stay,” she said simply. You nodded. Like always.
Because she was a sports car—built for speed, not forever.
And you? You were just trying to survive the ride.
𝐈𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞?: 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
This story is based off the song Is there someone else? by The Weeknd. If you can please listen to the song while reading:)
(Fun fact I love Abel’s music, I’ve been a XO for years so it’s only fitting for me to use his music, and with that you can expect a lot of stories based off his songs! Anyway let’s get back to the story;) )
Pairing: Jackson!ellie x fem!reader
Requests are always open, feel free to leave one, or just send me a song and I’ll take it from there!
Warnings: mentions of cheating
Summary: All Ellie wanted was for you to forgive her
I know that you're hiding something from me
That's been close to your heart
And I felt it creeping up every day
Baby, right from the start
Ellie sat across you, as she watched your hands fidget. She knew there was something off about you. She knew you were hiding something from her. And if she had to guess by your recent behavior she could tell that it was serious.
You’ve been acting strange for the last few months now. You were distant. Cold. You weren’t that ray of sunshine she fell in love with.
As the days go by Ellie can’t help but feel more and more alone. She didn’t only feel alone, but she became touch starved by the distance you kept from her. You were there but you weren’t. You were hers but you weren’t. You started talking to her less, you stopped any form of physical contact with Ellie. No more hugging, no more cuddling. Nothing.
And in the beginning Ellie was concerned. She thought maybe you were sick, or hurt. But as time went on and you were pulling away from her not just physically but emotionally too- Ellie knew there was something much deeper than a sickness. For weeks she’s searched her brain to try and figure out.
What the hell was wrong with you? How could she help you? Did Ellie do something? Was your behavior her fault? What the fuck is happening to the love of her life?
I know that look you give when we're fighting (fighting)
We're fighting (fighting)
'Cause I used to be the one who was lying (lying)
Oh, lying (lying)
Ellie stared at you, your gaze cold. She looked into your eyes, and normally when she would look at you, your eyes would be filled with love and admiration for Ellie- but all she could see was anger. Hatred. Ellie became sick of your behavior and she decided to confront you. The argument started off simple, with Ellie saying something along the lines of “are you ok? you’ve been acting weird babe. You know you can always talk to me” What was supposed to be a normal conversation escalated very quickly.
“Baby look I don’t want to argue with you- I just need you to be honest with me” Ellie begged. She looked at you with pleading eyes.
You scoffed “as if you have ever been honest with me”
As soon as those words left your lips, tension filled the room. The room fell silent. You could hear a pin drop.
One night after a very rough day on patrol, Ellie and Dina went out. After a couple of drinks, the two girls ended up, hooking up in your house. It didn’t take a long time for you to find out. Ellie wasn’t really good at hiding things. And when you found out you were crushed. And Ellie knew she messed up a good thing as soon as she saw the tears fill your eyes as she told you. Ellie was filled with guilt and regret. You almost left Ellie that day. But you didn’t. You stayed. You stayed because you loved her. You gave her a second chance. A chance to prove herself. It was hard for you in the beginning but eventually you and Ellie went back to ‘normal’. But that normal didn’t last very long.
Oh. Now everything made sense. Ellie sat there, mouth agape, at your response. She heard you let out a huff “look Ellie- I love you. But I can’t just forget and move on’’
Before any words could leave Ellie’s mouth you spoke again “I need space, I need someone who won’t do what you did, because if really did love me, you wouldn’t have slept with Dina”
The words rang in Ellie’s ears:
” I need someone who won’t do what you did” You wanted someone else?
“If you really did love me, you wouldn’t have slept with Dina”
Ellie sat there in silence. She watched you pick up a bag walk to the door. “I’m going out don’t wait up” And you left. You didn’t look back. As soon as the door shut Ellie let out a sob. A gut wrenching sob. She knew she made a mistake but she didn’t know that it would lead to this. Ellie loved you. You were her entire world and to hear you say really did love me you wouldn’t have slept with Dina hurts because she loved you. She loved you more than life itself.
The words bounced around in her head over and over again “I need someone who won’t do what you did, because if really did love me, you wouldn’t have slept with Dina”
“I need someone who won’t do what you did, because if really did love me, you wouldn’t have slept with Dina”
Oh (oh), is there someone else or not?
'Cause I wanna keep you close
I don't wanna lose my spot
'Cause I need to know
If you're hurting him, or you're hurting me
If I ain't with you, I don't wanna be
Is there someone else or not?
Ooh, or not
Ellie felt her eyes gloss over as she watched you sit at the end of the bed. She felt her tears run down her face, in an attempt to not look so vulnerable Ellie brought her knees to her chest, and she put her chin on her kneecaps. You weren’t looking at her- fidgeting with your hands.
Ellie knew you were nervous; the fact you aren’t making eyes contact with her was already a sign. Ellie wasn’t sure why she was crying, all you did was walk into the room and you sat down on the bed. But Ellie had a feeling. Her gut was telling her you were going to say something she wouldn’t like. You were there to break her heart. Ellie let a small whimper and turned to look at her. You didn’t reach out to her, like you normally would. You didn’t comfort her. You just looked at her and you said “Ellie now is not the time to cry” Your face was as beautiful as always. You voice calm, while Ellie was wreck across from you.
“Is there someone else?” Ellie whispered. And as soon as those words left her mouth, Ellie could tell by your facial expression there was. There is someone else.
“No” Ellie whispered, frantic as brought her hands over her ears as she let out loud sobs, repeating the words no over and over again. There is someone else.
For how long? Was it a girl or a boy? Ellie was the other women.
Ellie needed to hear the words leave your mouth. She needed you to say yes. She needed to know if she lost her spot. Being the girl you came home to, being the girl you shared your hopes and dreams with. She wanted to be that girl forever, but she isn’t that girl anymore. There was someone else. Ellie needed to know. Ellie didn’t want to be with anyone but you. You were her everything, even the thought of her being with someone disgusts her.
As Ellie sat there rocking back and forth screaming her lungs out, she felt you gently holding her, and shushing her.
“Sh sh sh baby its ok” you said softly. Even with the current situation Ellie immediately leaned into your hold, grabbing onto your t-shirt and sobbing into your arms. You were humming a soft tune, because you knew music always calmed Ellie down. You knew her better than she knew herself.
When Ellie eventually calmed down she pulled away from you slowly, looking at your beautiful face. Your cheeks were slightly wet, from crying as well. Ellie asked the question again:
“Is there someone else?”
And that three letter word let your mouth. Ellie wished you didn’t confirm it. But her question was answered when you let out a simple;
“Yes.”
I don't deserve someone loyal to me
Don't you think I see?
And I don't want to be a prisoner to who I used to be
I swear I changed my ways for the better, the better
'Cause I wanna be with you forever, forever
Ellie was drunk. That night that she hooked up with Dina. She was drunk. Alcohol is not an excuse for cheating, and she knew that but she was drunk. Ellie didn’t think that one drunken mistake would cost her the love of her life.
You were too good for Ellie. Too loving. The things Ellie has done in her life that was disgusting, and cruel. Ellie was heartless. Ellie thought no one could love someone as dirty as she was. But then there was you. You loved Ellie for who she was, and now because she was drunk she lost you. The only person other than Joel that mattered to her. Ellie didn’t deserve you. She didn’t deserve someone as loyal and loving like you were. And even when you gave her that second chance she knew she didn’t deserve it. She deserved you leaving her. She deserved you getting with someone else. Ellie tried changing her ways, because she wanted to be with you forever. Till she took he last breathe she wanted to be with you.
In the months after you and Ellie broke up, she tried proving to you that she was a good person. Even when you broken up she tried. When you had announced this someone else you were seeing was your girlfriend it ruined Ellie. Because she can’t live without you. The fact that you were in a stable relationship with someone that is not her hurts. And even though you had a girlfriend Ellie would still try. She writes you notes, sends you messages through people, pleading that you would give her another chance. Ellie needed you.
But the more Ellie looked at the situation, the more she realized that this was the consequences of her own actions.
Oh, is there someone else or not?
'Cause I wanna keep you close
I don't wanna lose my spot
'Cause I need to know
If you're hurting him, or you're hurting me
If I ain't with you, I don't wanna be
Is there someone else or not?
Ooh, or not
Ellie looked the grin on your face as you walked down the aisle, you looked beautiful in your wedding dress. Ellie dreamed of this day. The day you would walk to her, and get married. And that you would end up her surname.
But now she was a part of the crowd. She watched you walk down the aisle to your girlfriend of 2 years. Her name was Abby. An outsider that joined Jackson in the recent years. You were marrying the women you had left her for.
As the pastor exclaimed you may now kiss the bride, both you and that girl smiled as you leaned in for that kiss. You were married. To someone else. The crowd screamed when your lips locked with hers, and Ellie couldn’t help but let her tear fall at the sight. There was no saving your relationship. It had been almost 3 years since you and Ellie broke up, and she still couldn’t move on. Ellie became a shell of the person she was after you left. Ellie was never the same. And Ellie never will be the same.
Many times Ellie fantasies that Abby was the women that cheated on you. She fantasizes that she was that someone else you left Abby for. But that was not the case.
For the rest of Ellie’s life, she grieved your relationship, while you lived your happily ever after.
Authors note: Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! Remember to always love one another and to be kind…. Requests are always open... Thank you so much for the love and support on all my stories, I love all of you dearly!
Yours truly,
Zia:)
Douchebag Ellie supremacy!
Headcannons: douchebag!ellie x reader
☆ Douchebag Ellie who was the most hated girl on campus because she was literally a bitch.
☆ Douchebag Ellie was in the same class as you and who treated you like shit.
“I thought you were smart dude, I got higher than you”
☆ Douchebag Ellie who would yawn loudly as you try and present. Or she would literally just make random noises. She was trying to get under your skin.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who would boo every time your lecturer asked you to answer a question.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who bumps into you on purpose, making you drop your books and then she walks away laughing.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who would insult you on a daily basis, when in reality she was looking for ways to talk to you.
“You look fucking disgusting”
“you’re seriously going to wear that?”
“No wonder your ex cheated on you”
☆ Douchebag Ellie who thrives off the attention you give her when you yell at her. Or when you tell her to fuck off.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who sits directly behind you and throws notes at you and who thinks it’s funny when you flip her off.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who gets defensive when her friends say she has a crush on you.
“Dude you’re literally fucking in love with her! You already act like a dick in general but you act like a bigger one around her”
“Shut the fuck up Jesse, this is why Dina left you”
☆ Douchebag Ellie who watches you smile with other people but when it comes to her you walk past her. And as much as she likes to pretend it didn’t make her feeling anything, she felting something. It hurt.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who feels a pit grow in her stomach when she saw you walking hand in hand with another girl.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who knows it’s not normal to get jealous when you see someone you know walking with someone else.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who realizes she’s in love with you and that she’s fucked.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who becomes worse after that. Harsher insults and snarkier comments.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who’s mad at herself for not talking to you sooner.
“Dude it’s my fault” Ellie sighed one afternoon.
“if you weren’t such a pussy maybe you could talk to her and ask her out” Jesse spoke as he tried comforting his friend.
“she was so rude to that poor girl; I don’t even think she stood a chance” Dina added
☆ Douchebag Ellie who grew quiet and less bitchy.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who stopped making fun of you and completely distanced herself.
“Ellie are you ok?” her eyes snapped open she was met with the girl she was so deeply in love with.
“why do you fucking care?” Ellie snapped.
“I don’t” you answered. “it’s just you didn’t call me stupid of failing my test”
“well you aren’t stupid” Ellie muttered
“what?” You asked “I didn’t hear you”
“Nothing” Ellie muttered.
Ellie brought her hand up to her face as she rubbed her eyes and she let out a sigh. “Look- can I ask you something?” Ellie hesitantly asked.
“sure”
if I- if I wasn’t such a bitch would you like me? Like- you know.. like like me?” Ellie looked at you sheepishly.
“who says I don’t already?” Ellie started at you with wide eyes as you just winked at her,
“see in class Williams!” you said as you walked away
☆ Douchebag Ellie who got hope that she did actually have a change with you.
☆ Douchebag Ellie who made it her mission to make you hers from that day on.
requesting a smut fic with reader x loser!ellie based on in my feelings by Lana del Rey!! And the song being from readers pov
In my feelings - (loser!ellie williams x reader)
hi anon! firstly this is my first time writing smut, so I'm sorry if it sucks lmao:) and also Lana Del Rey fucking slaps, I hope you enjoy<3
This story is based off the song in my feelings by Lana Del Rey, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)
(I had to rewrite this twice because every time I wrote it according to the lyrics I always ended up with a angst fic, so this is just a smut piece. There are references to the song in the story.)
Pairing- loser!ellie x fem!reader
requests are always open, feel free to leave one or just send me a song and I'll take it from there:)
Warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), porn no plot, inexperienced Ellie, cigarettes, sex, domish reader, this sucks, lmk if I missed anything!
Summary: In which you showed a loser, a great time
You brought the cigarette to your lips as you inhaled the smoke, your head rolled back as you blew it out from your lips.
You looked up and saw Ellie staring at you like a lost puppy.
"Have you ever done this before?" you asked her as you took another puff from your cigarette.
You watched as she shyly looked to the ground.
"Open your mouth and answer me Ellie" you demanded enjoying how easily you could make her nervous.
"n-no ma'am" she stuttered.
You chucked as you put out your cigarette on the ash tray beside you. Ellie watched your fingers as you lowered the cigarette, how delicate they looked, she wondered what they would feel like.
Ellie was snapped from her thoughts when she heard your voice.
"Come here"
You watched as she blinked a couple of times.
"Do I need to repeat myself?"
"no sorry" she mumbled and she made made her away towards you.
"Crawl"
"what?" Ellie looked at you with wide eyes.
She looked so fucking innocent. So pure. It turned you on so much knowing that you had the ability to destroy her.
"Get on the floor and crawl to me"
You sat back on the couch, you slightly opened your legs revealing the pink lace underwear you wore underneath your skirt.
"I can see your underwear" Ellie pointed out. She was trying to be respectful, but she couldn't take her eyes away from your clothed cunt.
"do you like it?" you asked.
A pink shade appeared on her cheeks as she looked down to her shoes. She let out a hum of agreement.
Yeah she did like it.
She wanted to see more.
"Come on Ellie get on your knees"
You watched as she fell to her knees, crawling to you like a dog. A smile appeared on your face as you watched the mighty Ellie Williams crawl towards you.
No one else but you.
Ellie sat directly in front of you staring at your pretty face waiting for her next instruction.
You opened up your legs, your lace panties practically see through at this point from how wet you were. You heard Ellie whimper as the sight.
"So pretty" she mumbled.
"wait till you see what's underneath" You spoke with a grin.
"Touch me Ellie"
Her hands immediately went to your underwear. She gently started rubbing you through your underwear.
Ellie watched as the damp spot on your underwear grow, and she felt her own arousal, her panties were so fucking wet and her thighs were slick with her own arousal.
You let out a soft moan as you felt her rub soft, slow and gentle circles. She leaned forward to leave a soft kiss on the clothed area.
Your body shuddered at the feeling.
Ellie started slowly making out with your clothed cunt, she just wanted a taste, but the stupid piece of fabric was in her way, it wasn't only making Ellie mad it was frustrating you too.
It was good but it wasn't enough to make you cum.
"Get up"
"what?" Ellie asked confused.
"Just get up"
She stood up in an instant watching you grab your phone.
You played in my feelings by Lana Del Rey as you lit another cigarette. You took another puff before slowly swaying your hips to the music.
"I'm smoking while I'm runnin' on my treadmill
But I'm cutting up roses
Could it be that I fell for another loser"
you sang as you continued to breathe in the smoke. You slowly started stripping, removing your shit, you briefly made eye contact with Ellie before her eyes fell to your chest.
You were wearing a matching pink lace bra, and Ellie felt herself dripping.
You slowly put the cigarette between your lips as you unclasped your bra. The piece of fabric fell to the floor as you heard Ellie out a quite "woah" at the sight of your chest.
Your hands came up to your chest as you took your breast into your palm, you slowly moved your hand up pinching your nipples, your head flew back the sensation.
You let out a moan, as you felt the buds harden under your touch.
Your hips continued to sway as you looked at Ellie and you pulled your skirt and panties off. You bent down, putting out the cigarette as you picked up your panties and you threw it towards her.
Ellie desperately caught it, bringing it to her nose. She breathed in the scent of your juices and she let out a loud moan. You watched as her eyes rolled to the back of her head before she stuffed your panties into her pocket.
"Please- please let me touch you"
You almost moaned at the sound of her begging.
You slowly made your way to the couch as you bent over, raising your ass and cunt into the air.
Easy access
As you were bent over you quickly made the music louder to drown out the sound of what was about to happen.
You looked over your shoulders seeing Ellie stare at you in awe.
What a fucking loser.
You slightly shook your ass.
"Come on Ellie isn't this what you wanted?"
Ellie fell to her knees immediately crawling to you. She faced your cunt she watched your swollen pussy clench around nothing.
You slightly jumped forward with a shocked moan when you felt Ellie lick a long stripe your pussy. Ellie had her eyes closed as she let out a moan.
"So wet" she muttered. After a few seconds of silence and no movement you suddenly felt Ellie's fingers open you up and before you could say anything she inserted her tongue into you.
You let out a moan, and quickly you felt a coil tighten in your stomach.
"fuckkkk... just like that pretty girl" you breathed out in a long moan.
You heard Ellie moan from behind you, and it send vibrations to your cunt. Your mouth fell open at the sensation.
Ellie put two fingers into your cunt as she continued sucking your clit and attacking your sensitive pussy with her tongue.
"Fuck- you're such a fucking loser" Ellie heard you talk above her. "You- you can't even talk to me I public now- now you're e-eating me out like I'm your last meal"
Ellie let out a moan at your words and she felt herself clench, she was going to cum and you didn't even touch her, how pathetic.
Ellie hit that special spot and you let out a high pitched moan.
"Right there baby, please don't stop"
Ellie fingers sped up, her sucking became harsher, and your moans grew louder.
You were close.
You clenched around Ellie's fingers, and she let out a loud moan. The vibrations triggered your orgasm.
You saw white and your whole body felt numb. You didn't feel real, it felt like you were floating- no flying actually. You felt so fucking good.
With heavy breathes, you opened your eyes and you breathed out a quick good girl to Ellie.
You turned around to face her as she lay on the floor, her eyes were closed but she had a huge smile on her face.
"Did you just come?" You asked Ellie as you heavily breathed.
You watched as she opened her eyes and she started at you for a few seconds.
"No"
"are you lying to me Ellie?"
"yeah... that was the hardest I ever came" she admitted.
"Aw poor baby, I didn't didn't touch her and she soaked her panties" you teased.
All Ellie did was look away shyly.
She anxiously played with her fingers. She wanted to ask you something. But she was so fucking terrified.
Maybe she was a fucking loser.
"Can we go again? Ellie asked, looking at you with a fucked out expression. Her lips were slightly swollen and glossy with her saliva and your cum.
Still heavily breathing you gave Ellie a smile.
"let me get a taste of you too pretty girl"
Authors note: well this sucked, I've never written smut and I'm so scared to publish it lmao, also two posts in one day???? wow I'm on another lever. Remember you are loved and to always be kind.
Yours truly,
Zia:)
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