Under Her Desk - Ellie Williams X Reader
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.”
More Posts from Elliespassagerprincess and Others
professor ellie has aurora sitting in on one of her classes and starts helping her teach? or like super cute like physical touch moments with professor ellie and reader??
Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader
masterlist
professor ellie masterlist
☆ You’d had a rough night—baby crying, no sleep, and Aurora constantly asking questions.
☆ Ellie notices immediately. The dark circles under your eyes, the way you pause while holding the baby.
☆ “Hey… why don’t I take Aurora to class with me today?” she says, brushing your cheek gently.
☆ Aurora gasps, ecstatic. “I get to help Mama teach?!”
☆ Ellie crouches to her level, fixing her little backpack. “Only if you behave like a real assistant.”
☆ You kiss Aurora’s forehead and mouth a thank you to Ellie, who kisses your temple back.
☆ Ellie straps Aurora into the car, feeds her little snacks on the way to campus, and plays gentle classical music to “get her in the professor mood.”
☆ Aurora brings her plush dino in her bag, insisting “he’s going to teach too.” Ellie doesn’t argue.
☆ Ellie lets her carry her own mini clipboard and a tiny pen she found just for her.
☆ Before walking into the lecture hall, Ellie crouches and whispers, “You’re gonna sit right next to me, and if anyone asks you a question, just smile like you’re very smart.”
☆ Aurora nods solemnly like it’s a life-or-death mission.
☆ Ellie gives her a lanyard with a fake name tag that says “Professor Assistant Aurora.”
☆ Students walking in smile and wave at Aurora. She waves back shyly but sticks close to Ellie.
☆ Aurora climbs into Ellie’s lap while she boots up the projector.
☆ Ellie kisses the top of her head and whispers, “Let’s teach them something cool today.”
☆ Ellie introduces Aurora with a soft smile: “This is Aurora, my TA for today. Please don’t try to bribe her with snacks—only I’m allowed to do that.”
☆ Aurora sits in a rolling chair beside Ellie and mimics her posture—legs crossed, arms folded.
☆ Whenever Ellie clicks to the next slide, she lets Aurora press the button.
☆ The students find it adorable. Ellie acts like it’s perfectly normal.
☆ Ellie occasionally leans down and whispers definitions or asks Aurora trivia questions like, “What’s a hypothesis?”
☆ Aurora proudly says, “An educated guess,” and the class gives her soft applause.
☆ Ellie beams, tapping her pen on the desk in approval. “She’s brilliant, just like her moms.”
☆ Ellie uses Aurora in examples—“Let’s say Aurora wants to measure how fast her dinosaur grows…”
☆ Aurora chimes in, “He eats gummy worms and love!” and the class laughs.
☆ Ellie nods seriously, adding, “Two crucial variables.”
☆ During a group activity, Aurora walks around with Ellie and mimics her stance—hands behind her back, inspecting work.
☆ She tells one student, “You spelled mitochondria wrong,” (she didn’t), and Ellie has to stifle a laugh.
☆ Ellie lets her draw on the whiteboard while the students work—“only scientific things,” she warns.
☆ Aurora draws a volcano and labels it “SCIENCE.” Ellie nods and adds a diagram next to it.
☆ Ellie checks in with you during a break, texting a picture of Aurora standing on a chair scribbling on the board.
☆ Aurora gets bored halfway through the second hour and starts swinging her legs.
☆ Ellie smoothly picks her up, sets her in her lap, and continues the lecture without missing a beat.
☆ Aurora plays with Ellie’s rings while she talks.
☆ A student asks, “Is this gonna be on the exam?” and Aurora blurts, “Yes.” Ellie smirks but doesn’t deny it.
☆ Ellie lets her “grade” a fake worksheet with stickers.
☆ Aurora drops her juicebox. Ellie sighs softly, bends down to pick it up mid-sentence, and keeps teaching.
☆ “That’s just real life,” she tells the class. “We adapt. With toddlers, and in literature.”
☆ Aurora asks for a snack and Ellie hands her a fruit strip like it’s part of the lesson.
☆ Ellie draws a heart on Aurora’s hand with her marker when she starts getting antsy.
☆ Aurora falls asleep in the last 10 minutes of class with her head on Ellie’s arm.
☆ Ellie teaches the rest of the lecture while rubbing gentle circles on Aurora’s back.
☆ She switches to a soft voice, almost a whisper, and her students don’t dare interrupt.
☆ Ellie keeps her glasses low on her nose as she grades papers with Aurora tucked against her.
☆ When class ends, a few students thank her and whisper, “She’s the cutest TA we’ve had.”
☆ Ellie smiles proudly, whispering, “Don’t let her hear that, she’ll want a raise.”
☆ You arrive just as Ellie’s packing up her briefcase and Aurora’s drooling on her shoulder.
☆ Ellie’s shirt is wrinkled, one sleeve smeared with juice and highlighter. “She was excellent,” she whispers.
☆ You walk up, wrap your arms around Ellie’s waist from behind. “Thank you.”
☆ Ellie tilts her head back against your shoulder. “You look like you finally got five hours of sleep.”
☆ You both giggle quietly, swaying together while Aurora sleeps between you.
☆ You brush a strand of hair out of Ellie’s face and press a kiss to her temple.
☆ Ellie tugs you closer with one arm and murmurs, “I love you. Take care of yourself too, okay?”
☆ She gently transfers Aurora into your arms and kisses both your hands.
☆ “You’re doing so good,” she whispers. “Even if it doesn’t feel like it.”
☆ You lean in and rest your forehead against hers. The lecture hall is quiet now.
☆ Ellie kisses you soft, slow, careful not to wake Aurora.
☆ “We’re a team,” she says. “Next week, maybe I’ll take both kids and let you sleep all day.”
☆ You laugh, eyes wet. “You’re brave.”
☆ “I’m in love,” she answers. “That’s even more dangerous.”
☆ You both watch Aurora sleep for a minute before you leave, her little hands clutching her toy dinosaur and Ellie’s lecture notes.
☆ Ellie keeps Aurora’s whiteboard drawings in her office now—framed.
☆ She tells her colleagues it was her “co-instructor’s visual aid.”
☆ Students ask if Aurora can come back. “Only if you behave,” Ellie jokes.
☆ Ellie comes home that night and wraps both you and the baby in her arms.
☆ She whispers to Aurora as she tucks her in: “You were the best part of my class.”
☆ Ellie writes in her journal about it—“Today felt right. Whole.”
☆ She kisses your shoulder before bed and murmurs, “We’re raising geniuses.”
☆ You curl into her side and feel her hand stroke your back slowly.
☆ “Thanks for helping,” you whisper. She kisses you again. “Always.”
☆ Aurora wakes up at 2 a.m., asking if she’s teaching again tomorrow. Ellie smiles sleepily. “Only if I can be your assistant this time.”
Therefore you and me - part 3/3 (ellie williams x reader)
This series was inspired by the song "Therefore You and Me [故にユーエンミー]
this is the final part! I will not be writing anymore parts to this story, thank you for reading and being patient with me:)
Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
requests are always open, feel free to leave one!
Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, toxic relationships and body mutilation
Summary: In which, Ellie realized that she needed to work on herself.
wc: 700+
part 1 part 2
“You want me to do what?” Ellie’s dad practically screamed. She slightly flinched at the tone of her father’s voice before talking: “it’s the least you could do after fucking abusing me”
“I wasn’t abusing you”
“then what were you doing? showing me love?”
He stayed silent as he stared at Ellie. Surprised she even had the guts to talk back to him. If she was younger, he would’ve grabbed her and thrown her across the room.
“Cat got your tongue?” Ellie asked. “Either you help me” she started, and she made her way over to where he sat. Ellie grabbed the collar of his shirt brining him closer to her face “or I’m going to fucking kill you” she spoke through gritted teeth
And for the first time in his entire life he was terrified of his daughter.
“Ellie” you said softly seeing she was back from wherever she went. You woke up in the middle of the night, feeling the bed was cold. You searched for her, called out to her but she didn’t show up, you went to bed with a heavy heart wondering where she had gone.
Did you make her mad? Maybe you said something? Maybe she’s finally sick of you.
But here she was lying next to you with her back towards you.
“Ellie” you said her name again.
You reached out gently grabbing her arm, her skin was cold to the touch. Colder than it normally was. You sat up immediately grabbing her and turning her over in fear that something happened. As soon as you turned Ellie’s body to face you, her torso was full of a dark red substance.
Your eyes fell down to her hands. Or at least where her hands would’ve been.
Her hands were gone.
The only thing left was a small piece of her wrist bone on either side. You stared down at the scene in shock, you reached out slightly, grabbing Ellie’s arm.
“Ellie” you breathed out again, trying not to cry. Your vision blurred with tears, your ears were ringing, it felt like you couldn’t breathe.
“Hi “you heard her voice weakly say.
“oh Ellie” you breathed out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You reached down to bring Ellie to your chest hugging her. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you cried with Ellie in your arms.
You knew this was the end for her. She was already cold to the touch and the amount of blood she’s lost, was a sign that her time on this earth was coming to an end.
“what the fuck were you thinking Ellie” you cried into her autumn brown hair. She shuffled slightly under you before she spoke up: “now I can’t hurt you”
You pulled away to stare at her, and she weakly brought up her handless arms to proudly show you what she had done.
“see I can’t hurt you anymore”
“I didn’t mind Ellie”
“But what I was doing was wrong”
“Ellie- “
“Love isn’t supposed to hurt” she repeated her words from earlier that day.
Another stream of tears ran down your cheeks when you realized she did this for you.
“Ellie who did this?” you asked
“my dad” she responded with a small smile. “I asked him to help me, and look its working I can’t hit you anymore” she said with a small laugh. You brought Ellie back to your chest holding her as your loud sobs filled the room.
You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting here, holding her. It must’ve been hours because the sun had already risen. Ellie had stopped breathing a while ago her last words being I love you. But you couldn’t seem to let her go. Her blood covered the bed, and your hands. And her words repeated in your head again: “I can’t hurt you anymore”
She did this for you.
She willingly risked her life for you.
She cut her hands off to keep you safe.
Ellie truly did love you. All the times you doubted that she loved you, all the promises she made and that you thought were fake, were real.
Ellie died for you. For your safety.
You didn’t care if people called her as an abuser, because you knew the truth. You loved her and she loved you. You knew she died for you. Her death wasn’t in vain, because you were safe and living a life free from abuse.
As you stood in front of Ellie’s dad, hands tied together in front of you, you were waiting for him to do the same thing he did to Ellie.
“Are you sure?” he asked as he raised the knife above his head.
“Yes” you breathed “this is for Ellie, now cut them off”
Authors note: i hope you enjoyed! Remember to always be kind and that my requests are always open:)
yours truly,
Zia <3
My pookies <3 (the tag list): @ellieslegalwife @yuaaa05 @idkwhatimdoingherelmao
Not an ask just some compliments bc your professor ellie headcanons are so good i love love love the way you write them
oh my word, thank you sm!! I'm glad you liked it:))) I was so nervous to post it, because I was unsure if people would like it!! This means so much to me<333
<3333
When the Quiet Breaks - ellie williams x reader
pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
requests are open, send me songs or your silly ideas:)
HUGE WARNIGS: Graphic emotional distress, PTSD symptoms, hallucinations, disturbing imagery, grief, memory loss/confusion, trauma-related violence.
Summary: Ellie Williams is living a peaceful life on the farmhouse with you—the woman who convinced her not to chase revenge. For a while, things feel almost perfect. But the past never stays buried.
masterlist
This story contains dark and emotionally intense themes—please read with care.
The quiet of the farmhouse wrapped around you and Ellie like a warm blanket. Days passed slowly, wrapped in soft sunlight and the creak of old wooden floors. You’d wake up to the sound of the chickens outside or the wind humming through the trees. JJ’s toys were still in a chest near the fireplace—leftover memories from when the place belonged to someone else—but now, it was just the two of you.
Ellie had changed. The hard, vengeful edge she’d carried back from Seattle was softened—still there in her eyes sometimes, but she laughed more now. She played guitar on the porch. She rested her head on your lap while you read aloud. She touched you like she never thought she’d be allowed to again—tenderly, like you might disappear if she blinked.
“I’m glad I stayed,” she said once, lying next to you in bed. “You’re the only reason I still know how to breathe.”
You smiled and kissed her jaw. “Then breathe with me.” And she did.
But nights were harder.
She would jerk awake, drenched in sweat, whispering things she couldn’t say aloud. You’d hold her. Sometimes she’d cry. Other nights, she wouldn’t sleep at all—just sat at the window, cigarette trembling in her hand, staring at nothing.
You didn’t push. You just loved her harder. Calmer mornings, softer kisses. You’d hum to her while she braided your hair or stood behind her while she strummed, your hand on her back. You reminded her that she was here—that she was safe.
But Ellie was never really safe. Not from what was already inside her.
It started slowly—the confusion.
She’d zone out mid-conversation. You’d find her staring at the barn wall for minutes on end. One night, you came into the living room and found her kneeling in front of the fireplace, mumbling Joel’s name over and over.
You called her name. She didn’t hear you.
“Ellie,” you whispered, kneeling beside her. “Baby, I’m here.”
She flinched. “Don’t touch me.”
You pulled your hand back. “It’s me. It’s okay.”
She blinked. Then recognition bloomed across her face—and shame.
“I thought you were her,” she whispered. “I thought you were Abby.”
You swallowed hard and reached for her again. “You know I’m not. I’m here. I love you.”
“I know,” she rasped. “But she’s always in my head. Every time I close my eyes… Joel’s there. And she’s there. And I can't—I can’t tell what’s real anymore.”
You held her through the night. That was the first time you were scared.
The day it happened, the air was thick and still.
Ellie had barely slept. She’d been pacing the house, eyes sunken and wild. You made her tea, cooked her breakfast, tried to hold her hand. She pulled away. Her eyes kept darting to your face, then away. Like she didn’t trust what she saw.
You were standing in the hallway when it happened.
She stepped toward you, slow, trembling. “Abby…”
Your smile faltered. “Ellie, no—it’s me. Look at me.”
But she didn’t hear you.
Her pupils shrank. Her hand reached for the hunting knife on her belt.
“Ellie, please,” you begged. “It’s me. Baby, it’s me.”
You took a step forward—and she lunged.
You didn’t scream. You didn’t have time.
You tried to grab her wrist, tried to pull her back to you, but she was crying and snarling and whispering Joel’s name in broken pieces.
The pain was sudden. Hot. Blinding.
She drove the knife into your abdomen, then again—once in the side of your chest.
You collapsed, gasping, your fingers trembling against her forearm.
And then… it stopped.
She stood over you, breathing heavy. Her knife clattered to the ground.
You reached for her. She backed away. Your lips moved—one last attempt to say her name. To pull her out. But everything went still.
Ellie walked into the kitchen. Her mouth was dry, her chest heaving. She poured a glass of water and stared out the window. The sun was starting to set. The cows needed feeding. You were always reminding her.
“Babe?” she called, voice hoarse. “Hey… where’d you go?”
She checked the porch. The barn. The bedroom. The bathroom.
“Y/N?” Her voice cracked. “Where are you?”
She went outside, looked toward the trees, called again. Nothing.
Frustration twisted into worry. She began searching harder—every room, under every blanket, behind every door. Her breath quickened.
And then, slowly, she turned the corner of the hallway.
There you were.
The floor was stained. Your body lay still. The blood had stopped pooling. Her knife was inches away, still slick.
“No,” she breathed.
Her knees hit the floor. Her hands shook as she reached out—but stopped inches from your face.
“No. No. No, no—what did I… what did I—”
Her breath came out in gasps. Then sobs. Then wails.
She rocked back on her heels, knuckles pressed into her temples. Her guitar sat quietly in the corner of the living room, untouched. A song she wrote for you once still hung in the air, a ghost without a voice.
Ellie stayed there until nightfall. Curled beside you, whispering apologies that would never reach your ears.
And the house—once filled with light—fell into a silence that would never lift.
The night dragged on in pieces.
At some point, Ellie couldn’t feel her body anymore. Her knees were numb. Her hands were stained. She’d sat there for so long, staring at you, whispering things into the silence that didn’t make sense. Begging. Pleading. Bargaining with no one.
“I didn’t mean to,” she mumbled, over and over. “It wasn’t you… it wasn’t you…”
She crawled across the floor, trembling, curling her fingers into your shirt, trying to pull you close—but your body was already cold. Stiff. Heavy in a way that made her sob until her throat gave out.
“No… no, baby, come back. You’re not gone. You can’t be gone. I’ll fix it—I’ll fix it, I promise, just—please—”
She kissed your forehead like it would wake you up. She wiped at your blood like it could undo the stain. She whispered your name like it was a spell. But nothing happened.
Ellie didn’t sleep. She didn’t move.
When the morning light crept in through the windows, it touched her face—pale, swollen, dried tear tracks on her cheeks. Her lips were cracked. Her eyes were bloodshot. She hadn’t drunk the water she’d poured. The glass was still sitting on the counter, untouched. Forgotten.
She stood eventually. Only because her legs forced her to. The floor swayed under her.
She stumbled toward the mirror in the bathroom.
Her reflection stared back—wild-eyed, sunken, stained with grief. Her shirt was soaked in red. Her hands trembled as she looked at herself like she didn’t recognize the person there.
“Who are you,” she whispered. “What the fuck did you do?”
She punched the mirror. It cracked down the center.
Her knuckles split open. She didn’t flinch.
Later that day, she buried you under the tree behind the barn.
You loved that tree. You used to read beneath it, braid wildflowers into Ellie’s hair, kiss her with the sun pouring through the branches.
Now it was a grave.
She dug the hole with her bare hands, the shovel discarded after the first few strikes. She needed to feel the dirt. Needed the punishment. Her skin tore. Her nails broke. Her arms ached. She didn't stop.
When she placed you in the ground, she wrapped you in the blanket you both used to curl up in together during winter. She kissed your forehead one more time.
And then she screamed.
A sound so broken, so animal, it startled the birds from the trees.
It didn’t bring you back.
Inside the house, everything remained untouched.
Your favorite mug on the table. Your guitar pick beside hers. Your pillow still held the shape of your head.
Ellie crawled into bed that night with the same blood-stained clothes. She curled around your absence like it was still warm. She couldn’t tell where her hallucinations ended and reality began anymore.
Sometimes, she heard your voice. Sometimes, she saw your silhouette in the hallway. Sometimes, she dreamed you were still alive—and that she was dead instead.
But every time she woke up, the farmhouse was silent.
And the silence… was louder than any scream.
I was wondering what would be professor ellies reaction to overhearing her students call her wife a milf?😭
Idk if she would be smug or jealous 😭
Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader
masterlist
professor ellie masterlist
☆ You arrive right before Ellie’s lecture starts, balancing Aurora on your hip and pushing Arnold in a sleek black pram.
☆ You’re in leggings and a fitted hoodie, your hair half-tied, glowing in that “effortless hot mom” way that makes people stare.
☆ Ellie’s in the middle of setting up her slides when she spots you through the open lecture hall door and just melts—the tension in her shoulders visibly drops.
☆ “Shit,” she mumbles when she sees the brown paper bag in your hand, realizing she did forget her lunch on the kitchen counter.
☆ Aurora clings to you, shyly resting her head against your shoulder as her curls bounce with each step.
☆ Ellie immediately walks down from the podium, forgetting about her slides for a second just to greet the three of you.
☆ She kisses your temple, whispers a thank you, and gently strokes Arnold’s cheek as he stirs in his sleep.
☆ Students start to murmur as the scene unfolds—especially since they rarely see Professor Williams flustered or affectionate in public.
☆ You’re kind, smiling at her class and giving a little wave before telling Ellie to have a good lecture.
☆ As you walk out, Ellie’s eyes are glued to you—watching your hips sway and how effortlessly beautiful you look with her babies.
☆ The door hasn’t even closed behind you when a student in the back lets out a low whistle.
☆ Another mutters, “Damn, Professor Williams pulled a MILF.”
☆ Someone giggles, “Now it makes sense why she’s so serious—she’s got that waiting at home.”
☆ Ellie hears everything.
☆ Her eyes narrow slightly, jaw tightening as she clicks her laptop to the next slide a little too hard.
☆ “That was my wife, by the way,” she says nonchalantly, eyes still on the screen.
☆ “And the mother of both my children. Not that it's any of your business.”
☆ The room goes completely silent. A few students exchange wide-eyed looks.
☆ Ellie smirks to herself. Her little dig was sharp but still professional—classic passive-aggressive Professor Williams.
☆ She continues her lecture like nothing happened, but there's an edge in her tone now, like she’s daring anyone to comment again.
☆ She’s seething with jealousy, even if the comments were technically compliments.
☆ In her head: Of course they think she’s hot. She’s fucking perfect.
☆ She can’t stop picturing how good you looked—messy mom hair, flushed cheeks, and that soft voice.
☆ The image of you holding Aurora with one arm while pushing Arnold is burned into her brain.
☆ Her students noticing your hotness only confirms what she already knows: you’re stunning, magnetic, hers.
☆ She spends half the lecture imagining dragging you into her office after class just to mark her territory.
☆ She literally has to pause mid-sentence at one point because her brain short-circuits thinking about it.
☆ When she finally wraps up, she types “MILF-hunting undergrads = extra assignments” into her personal notes. Half-joking. Kind of.
☆ She finds you sitting on a bench outside her building, Arnold now awake and cooing softly.
☆ Aurora’s blowing dandelions and crawling into your lap every five seconds.
☆ Ellie drops her bag beside you and immediately kisses you—firm, slow, full of silent you’re mine energy.
☆ “You shouldn’t come looking like that,” she whispers into your hair.
☆ “Like what?” you ask, knowing exactly what she means.
☆ “Like the hottest person to ever walk into a university campus—with my baby on your hip.”
☆ She looks down at Arnold and mutters, “I hope he didn’t hear the bullshit I had to sit through.”
☆ You giggle, teasing, “What, jealous?”
☆ “No,” she deadpans. “Just proud. And territorial. And maybe slightly homicidal.”
☆ She offers to push the pram, her other arm slung possessively around your waist.
☆ She keeps glancing at passing students, daring anyone to look at you again.
☆ She tells you the whole story during dinner—every comment, every internal reaction.
☆ “I should start the next lecture with a slide that says: ‘That MILF is married. To me.’”
☆ You laugh so hard you nearly spill juice on Arnold’s onesie.
☆ Aurora asks what a “milf” is and Ellie nearly chokes.
☆ She’s planning a casual campus lunch date where she can show you off properly.
☆ She updates her office desk photos—new ones of you holding Arnold and a candid of you kissing Aurora’s nose.
☆ She catches herself rereading her student evaluations, smirking at the ones that mention her being “intimidating but hot.”
☆ Her next lecture includes a quote about “respecting others—especially your professor’s badass wife.”
☆ When you tease her later, she kisses you roughly and growls, “They wish they had you. But they never will.”
☆ She journals about the moment that night, scribbling things like “she looked so perfect. She always does. Mine.”
☆ The next time you bring her lunch, she kisses you in front of the class. Not a long kiss—just enough to make a point.
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.”
Will we ever get to know you? Like a face reveal, where you're from (you mentioned you live in Africa once) what it's like??? I've been following you since 2023, I love you sm
You're a very mysterious figure😭
In all honesty, I have thought about it. I've wanted to share a little more about myself but I'm not sure people would really care lmao.
I even have a series in my drafts based off one of the many languages in the country I grew up in (I'm in Nambia btw) but I'm too scared😭
Maybe if there's enough people interested in reading that or, maybe people wanna see more of me I can do/post it because I deadass want to.... but it's what my pookies want at the end of the day. Imagine wanting a Ellie fic and here you see my ugly ass face
But for now, I'll keep posting fics:)
- Zia's World ☆.
-‘๑’- about me: zia ; bisexual ; 19 ; she/her
if you want to be friends just pm me! I love meeting new people:)
-‘๑’ - who I write about: Ellie Williams, Abby Anderson and any other FEMALE character of your choice, I occasionally will write for other fandoms and for Quackity because I love him but tlou has my heart
-‘๑’ I write: headcanons, stories based off songs and things I think of in my silly little brain.
-‘๑’ - my content: I write ALOT of depressing and violent things. If you are not in the right mental state please DO NOT read my work.
-‘๑’ - rules: men DO NOT interact, NO kind of hate, bullying, sexism, homophobia, and mocking of any religion (including Christianity) is not allowed on my page. If it is found that you broke one of the rules you will be blocked immediately.
-‘๑’ - requests: requests are open till I say otherwise. You can send me song requests or your silly little thoughts:)
-‘๑’- request rules: Men are NOT allowed to request, if it is found that you are a man, you will be blocked immediately. I will NOT answer requests if they make me uncomfortable.
I DO NOT like to be rushed. Writing takes a lot of time and energy. I might take awhile to answer your request because I do not want to give anyone anything less than what they deserve so please be patient with me. I do have a life outside of this app, so once again I do ask that you are patient.
-‘๑’- my work: All my work and plot twists are all my original ideas. I do take inspiration from music and I give credit where it's due. DO NOT copy my work or repost it as your own. If you take inspiration give credit. If I do find out you stole my work without credit, I will take action.
-‘๑’- taglist: if you want to be added to my taglist send me a pm, and I can either tag you on my permanent taglist or a temporary one.
-‘๑’ masterlist
Maybe another dark toxic ellie oneshot in the future
Laundry - (ellie williams x reader)
your wish is my command, i hope you like it, i tried not to make it toooo toxic <3
Pairing: ellie x fem!reader
requests are open! send me your silly thoughts:)
warnings: toxic relationships, face spitting
Summary: In which you didn't fold the laundry
authors note: prepare to be sick of me because i have so many drafts
masterlist
imagine you and ellie had a huge argument earlier that day about unfolded laundry.
Ellie had woken up in a grumpier mood than usual, her eyes burning from the sunlight shining into your shared room. With a groan, Ellie got up, shivering as her feet touched the cold floor.
She got up, walking with her eyes closed, but she tripped over a pile of laundry that was left on the floor.
"Fucking-" she swore as she held her ankle.
You ran into the room, hearing the noise from downstairs. The scene was almost comedic: Ellie hunched over mumbling curse words to herself as she held her angle.
"Els..." you whispered, holding in your laugh.
"You" she said softly as her head snapped in your direction.
"Can you not clean properly?"
Your brows furrowed at her question.
"Ellie its your clothes-"
"i work all fucking day. All Fucking day, and i let you stay at home. I provide you look after the place. I expect you to fold my laundry. How would you feel if i stopped paying the bills?"
She did this often. She liked reminding you that she was the in charge. She was the one providing and you were nothing more than a stay at home girlfriend.
"Ellie-"
"get the fuck out"
You listened, like the dog you were. You ran out the room like a dog with it's tail between it's legs.
Ellie came out the room a while later, she didn't look at you she didn't acknowledge you.
You hated when she did that.
And she knew you hated it.
You had to get her attention somehow. You knew just what to do.
The sun had set, Ellie came home walking right past you, she didn't even utter a "hi".
She sat on the couch, probably responding to Dina's texts.
"I want to break up" you suddenly spoke. You prayed that this would work. You could never leave, but you knew this would get a reaction out of her.
"What?"
"you heard me"
she threw her phone to the side and she got up walking towards you. You felt her cold fingers grip your face
"you're not fucking leaving me" she was close.
So close. You could smell her cologne. You could count her freckles.
You won this round. Both of you knew that.
You felt her grip tighten on your chin and you let out a yelp. This would probably leave bruises.
"the day you try to leave me is the day your dead body will be found, so don't even think about it"
You knew she was serious. Ellie doesn't play when it comes to things like that. You knew she was just reminding you who was in control and you liked it.
You were probably just as sick as she was.
She let go of your space and she spat onto your face.
"You make me sick" was all she said before she walked away.
You watched her walk into the kitchen as you wiped off your face, she didn't even look at you as she opened the fridge. All she said was: "Go fold the laundry baby"
And you did just that.
<3
-
crcwjn liked this · 1 week ago -
mischievous-darling liked this · 1 week ago -
herblazebluebird liked this · 1 week ago -
macysz liked this · 1 week ago -
ruevu liked this · 1 week ago -
amerc3 liked this · 1 week ago -
blissqful liked this · 1 week ago -
rei90 liked this · 1 week ago -
bibisblogbook liked this · 1 week ago -
taraxyummy liked this · 1 week ago -
banyanyaaaaaa liked this · 1 week ago -
popopopol liked this · 1 week ago -
blankairssss liked this · 1 week ago -
holilogram liked this · 1 week ago -
luckyyoujeans liked this · 1 week ago -
thefrmotherofdragons liked this · 1 week ago -
wowjejsw-1 liked this · 1 week ago -
elliesbabygirl liked this · 1 week ago -
angelynn-nicole liked this · 1 week ago -
nqvhang liked this · 1 week ago -
iwas4angel liked this · 1 week ago -
mikellie liked this · 1 week ago -
hearts4gothkasa liked this · 1 week ago -
ilikegirlz liked this · 1 week ago -
callmewhateverbaby liked this · 1 week ago -
lilysqsworld liked this · 1 week ago -
nattakasuperlesbian liked this · 1 week ago -
gennyxtr liked this · 1 week ago -
anabelle-mory liked this · 1 week ago -
pytnelsabth liked this · 1 week ago -
woahshhh liked this · 1 week ago -
m31d1n1555 liked this · 1 week ago -
eemma47 liked this · 1 week ago -
tinyballoonperfection reblogged this · 1 week ago -
tinyballoonperfection liked this · 1 week ago
-
quizzrr liked this · 1 week ago -
groundbifff09 liked this · 1 week ago -
rgeuei liked this · 1 week ago -
madsss-things liked this · 1 week ago -
hariigchan liked this · 1 week ago -
pickleflavoredricecrispytreats liked this · 1 week ago -
t4nlly liked this · 1 week ago -
deanandcasaregaysstuff liked this · 1 week ago -
chleezy liked this · 1 week ago -
rainnyyshaii liked this · 1 week ago -
a1ex4 liked this · 1 week ago -
universallypaperpeace liked this · 1 week ago -
slut-8 liked this · 1 week ago -
strangecattale liked this · 1 week ago
