What We Bury In Silence - Abby Anderson X Reader

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.

hellooo

I’m obsessed w the song Drunk, Running by Lizzy McAlpine. do you think you could write a ellie x reader based on that song plsss 🥺

thx so much!!

Drunk, Running - ellie williams x reader

hi anon! I had two ideas for the ending, lmk if you want a different version!! I hope you enjoy:)

this story is based off the song, Drunk, Running by Lizzy McAlpine. If you can listen to the song as you're reading:)

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

requests are open, send me your thoughts and ideas!!

warnings: codependent relationship themes, alcohol use, emotional manipulation (subtle, mutual), unresolved trauma, toxic dynamic, mentions of anxiety/panic

summary: You and Ellie have always been a storm—chaotic, coiled tightly, unspoken things woven into the silence between glances. One night, everything boils over. Fueled by alcohol, memory, and all the words neither of you ever had the guts to say sober, you're both forced to confront the version of love you’ve built: broken, frantic, desperate.

masterlist

You don’t remember how you got here.

Not the room—you know this place like your own heartbeat. You could walk it blindfolded. It’s the ache in your ribs, the burn in your lungs, the sting of regret creeping up your throat that you can’t place.

Ellie’s doorway leans the same way it always has. Crooked. Waiting.

And she’s there. She’s always there.

Sitting on the edge of her bed with a cigarette between her fingers, head tilted back, red eyes glossy like she’s already lived this night a thousand times. Like she’s been here before, waiting for you to walk in and fall apart in front of her.

“Been drinkin’ again?” she asks.

You nod. She doesn’t move. And neither do you.

You taste vodka and guilt, and something like hope when you whisper, “I couldn’t sleep.”

She shrugs, tapping ash into the same cracked mug she never washes. “I didn’t ask.”

That should’ve hurt. Maybe it does.

But you’re not here for kindness. You’re here because this is the only place where the world stops spinning, even if it’s just for a second.

Even if the stillness breaks you. Even if it’s Ellie breaking you.

“I walked here,” you say, trying to fill the silence that’s pressing hard against your ears. “Didn’t even put on shoes.”

“You’re gonna cut your feet,” she murmurs. She still won’t look at you.

“They’re already bleeding.”

Finally, her eyes meet yours.

And for a second, there’s a flicker of something softer. A glint of that girl who once traced constellations across your shoulder blades in the dark and called you her galaxy.

“You always come back,” she says, like it’s a curse.

You blink. “I always leave.”

“You always come back drunk.”

You laugh, bitter. “Maybe that’s the only time I’m brave enough.”

Ellie’s jaw flexes. You know that expression. She’s doing math in her head, counting how many times you’ve done this. Walked in, broken. Asked her to fix you. Let her hold you. Only to walk out again with your ribs sewn shut and your voice hoarse from the things you never said.

“You ever wonder if we just—" she stops, runs a hand through her hair, frustrated. “If we’re only this because we’re scared to be something else?”

Your throat goes dry. She never talks like this. Not when she’s sober. Not when you’re not.

“I think we’re poison,” you whisper.

She scoffs. “Then why do you keep drinking me?”

You step toward her like your bones are moving without permission. Like they remember the way she feels before your mind does. Like they’re in love with her even when you’ve forgotten how.

“’Cause it’s the only thing that makes it stop hurting.”

Ellie doesn’t pull away when you kneel in front of her. When your head falls into her lap. When your hands clutch at her thighs like a lifeline. Her fingers slip into your hair, gentle. Devastating. Like nothing’s wrong.

Like this isn’t killing both of you.

“You smell like cheap vodka and bad choices,” she says, but it’s so soft you almost think she’s trying to love you with the words.

“I miss you,” you breathe.

“You don’t,” she says back. “You miss the version of me who let you run.”

The silence drapes over the room like fog.

“I miss the version of me who didn’t,” you finally whisper.

And that’s when she leans down, foreheads touching, breath against your lips like a promise neither of you know how to keep.

“You were never supposed to love me like this,” she says, and you feel it like a knife.

“You taught me how,” you reply, and she shatters in your hands.

She kisses you like a warning. You kiss her like a prayer.

And it’s all teeth and memory and the kind of desperation that tastes like blood. Her hands grip your waist like she’s trying to hold together something that’s already cracked.

She lays you down. You let her. You always let her.

And when she curls around you after, her voice barely audible, she asks the same question she always does.

“Will you stay this time?”

And you give the same answer you always do.

“I don’t know how.”

You leave in the morning. You always do.

And behind you, Ellie lights another cigarette, watches the sunrise she never asked for, and whispers into the silence: I would’ve waited forever.

Ellie hadn’t realized the silence was healing her until the ache stopped being the first thing she felt when she woke up. It started subtly.

Your name stopped echoing every time her phone buzzed. Her hands stopped trembling at 3AM. She stopped checking the sidewalk in front of her apartment like you’d be barefoot again, drunk, bleeding, mumbling something about needing to be held.

She stopped waiting for you to come undone in her doorway. And in the quiet you left behind, she started building a life that didn’t require loving you in pieces.

She read more. Fixed the broken step on her porch. Learned how to cook something other than grilled cheese. Stopped sleeping in the middle of the bed. Not because she expected you back, but because it felt better.

Peaceful, even.

She thought of you sometimes. Of course she did.

The way you smiled when you were too tired to fake it. The way your hands always shook when you said you didn’t care. The way you used her like a lighthouse, then cursed the fire when you got too close.

You never meant to be cruel. But that didn’t make it less cruel.

Still, Ellie never stopped loving you. She just stopped setting herself on fire to keep you warm.

And so, when your knock finally came—not a drunken stumble, not a crash, just one soft tap-tap-tap—Ellie was already standing.

Barefoot. Coffee in hand. Awake before dawn because she’d stopped dreading it.

When she opened the door and saw you—sober, eyes clear, jacket zipped—it was like meeting someone entirely new. Or maybe someone you were before the chaos.

“Hey,” you said.

Her throat was dry. “Hey.”

You smiled, almost sheepish. “I didn’t come to fall apart this time.”

That made her chest seize up in ways she wasn’t ready for.

You stood there, hands buried in your coat pockets, shifting like you didn’t know if you had the right to be here anymore. Like you didn’t expect her to open the door.

“I just…” you licked your lips. “I’ve been trying. I’ve been going to therapy. I’ve stopped drinking. It’s been four months. I journal. I even got a cat.”

Ellie blinked. “You hate cats.”

“She hates me too. It’s a good match.”

That pulled a soft laugh out of her, unfiltered. You looked so… real. Not desperate. Not frantic. Not aching.

“I’ve missed you,” you said. “But not like before. Not like… like you’re the only thing keeping me alive. I just… miss you. Not the pain. Not the mess.”

She leaned against the doorframe, letting herself exhale.

“Why now?” she asked. “Why today?”

You bit your lip. “Because for the first time, I wasn’t scared to be alone. And I think… maybe that means I’m ready to be with someone. Not to survive. Just to be.”

She wanted to say something poetic. Something that sounded like closure or beginning or both.

But all she could manage was: “Do you want to come in?”

You smiled like it meant everything.

“Only if you want me to.”

Ellie stepped aside. And this time, you walked in with your shoes on, your voice steady, your hands not shaking.

You didn’t fall into her arms like you were drowning. You stood beside her. Still. Sober.

And when she reached for your hand, it wasn’t trembling.

This is how the cycle ends. Not with fireworks. Not with a breakdown. But with quiet recognition. With two people choosing each other—not out of fear, but out of love that finally feels safe.

It’s almost embarrassing how mundane it is.

The morning light spills through the apartment like it’s always belonged there—soft, forgiving. Your cat (the one who still barely tolerates you) is curled on the windowsill, tail flicking rhythmically. Ellie’s in the kitchen, humming under her breath while flipping pancakes she knows you like just a little burnt on the edges.

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, wrapped in one of her old flannels, thumbing through a book she lent you. You’ve underlined every other sentence.

She says nothing about it.

Just brings you a cup of coffee exactly the way you like it now. Two sugars. No cream. You’d stopped adding cream when you realized you used to drown the bitterness out of habit, not taste.

“How’s the book?” she asks.

You look up at her—hair messy, tattoo sleeve half-covered by a hoodie, eyes kind in the way that used to terrify you. You used to run from kindness like it was a threat.

Now you let it hold you.

“It’s good,” you murmur. “I think I’m finally understanding it.”

She leans against the counter and raises a brow. “The themes or the words?”

“Both.”

She grins. “Progress.”

You smile back. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

Ellie walks over, slow and sure. Crouches beside your chair, presses her forehead to your knee like it’s instinct. Her fingers curl around yours. Grounding.

“You gave up on yourself first,” she says quietly. “I was just waiting for you to remember who you are.”

You blink back the sting behind your eyes. Not sadness. Just... release.

“I was so scared,” you whisper.

“I know.”

“I thought loving you meant losing myself.”

She nods, solemn. “And I thought loving you meant saving you.”

You both sit with that. Not in shame—just recognition.

“I’m not a project anymore,” you say.

“No,” she agrees, looking up at you. “You’re my partner.”

You press your lips to her forehead. She closes her eyes. Breakfast burns slightly on the stove, but neither of you move.

Later, you water the plants while Ellie grades papers. Your cat hisses when you try to pet her and Ellie snorts behind her laptop. You walk past her and kiss her temple. She tugs you onto her lap and lets you fall asleep like that—safe, full, warm. When you wake up, the sun is fading, and Ellie’s fingers are tracing the line of your spine through the fabric of her flannel.

“You think we’ll always be this boring?” you tease.

She smiles against your shoulder.

“I hope so.”

ur acc esthetic is so yummy

PURRRRRR THANK YOU QUEEEEEEENNNN, i gotta make it pretty for all the pretty girls that follow me <3333333333333

Can you maybe do post man Abby with Mrs.postman- Black pumas

Mrs. Postman - (abby anderson x reader)

Hi anon! this was so weird to write because where I'm from we don't have people who deliver our mail, but i hope i did you justice. I hope you enjoy:)

This story is based off the song Mrs. Postman by Black Pumas, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: post man!abby x fem!reader

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

warnings: none

Summary: in which you fell for the post lady

authors note: first abby fic that isn't hcs??? let's fucking go dude. My second post for the day, I'm blessing yall before I leave till god knows when lmao.

Every tomorrow brings sunshine in my neighborhood since you've been in it

Oh-oh, here comes Mrs. Postman

She's thicker than blue blood and a message from her spirits, high descendant

Oh-oh, it's Mrs. Postman

This commonality won't let her be fooled by low conditions

Oh-oh, says Mrs. Postman

Your love reside in me but other feathers seem to flock together

Oh-oh, Mrs. Postman

You hated this stupid fucking city.

You don't even know why you moved here in the first place. It was fucking hot. Everything was expensive. You hated this place so much.

The Jackson sun was high in the sky, as you stood at the window drinking your morning tea.

You had moved in a couple of weeks ago, and today was finally the day you would be able to get your mail.

You finally heard the knock at the door, and with excitement you ran towards it. You almost tripped but no one needs to know that.

As you opened the door, you thought you stood in front of a god.

Her blonde hair, was pulled back in a tight braid, she was staring at you with her beautiful eyes, and her smile was just fucking perfect. Her uniform sat tight against her skin, showing her body is just the right places.

Holy shit.

Postman or Postwoman? You don't even what to call her.

"Hi, I'm Abby! You must be new" she said with a bright smile.

Now you knew why everyone is Jackson was always so happy in the morning, their fucking postman was a ray of sunshine.

"Yeah I am" you said with a small smile, opening up your hand to take the package from her hands.

"Have a good day ma'am" Abby said, before she walked away.

Maybe Jackson wasn't that bad after all.

If you want it

Go and get it, you can have it Mrs. Postman

That's alright

Can we spark it? Effervescence, let the flame burn Mrs. Postman

Right on

When it rains just know that every little thing is alright

All the same, I know that everything will be right on time

as the weeks went by, you realized that Jackson wasn't such a bad place.

The people were nice, it was a safe area. The Postlady is really hot. Things were looking up.

You found yourself waking up earlier in the morning, just to make yourself look prettier. You would sweep your front porch daily, to make sure that Abby would come to a clean place. You found yourself baking cookies, and giving it to her every morning.

What was happening to you?

Even when you didn't have any mail, Abby always made a turn at your place. Her visits always made you feel special.

The days Abby didn't come, you always felt the lack of her presence. She'd become a part of you routine. She's become a part of you.

Over time you learned small facts about the blonde.

Her dad was a surgeon, she had one dog, her favorite color is blue, she works 5 days a week, and she's trying to get into college.

You could say the two of you had established a friendship.

You saw whatever you had as more than that. You guys weren't a friendship in your eyes. You felt that there was more.

Your crush on Abby grew by the second, every interaction, every smile and giggle she let out had an effect on you.

god you were down bad for your fucking Postwoman.

Today was like no other.

You woke up, took a showers and you put on brand new blue sundress you bought to hope fully catch Abby's eye.

You sat in your living room, staring at the clock, counting down the seconds of Abby's arrival.

You heard a knock at your door, and you jumped up, cleaning your throat as you walked towards the door. You took a deep breath as you opened the door and you were met with Abby's smiling face.

You saw her eyes wonder down your body as she looked at your outfit.

She thought you looked fucking beautiful.

"Hi Abby" you muttered shyly.

Your eyes met as, and you felt a spark.

"Hi" Abby smiled.

"Do I have mail?" you asked.

"Yeah a letter" Abby handed it to you.

You thanked her and the two of you stood there for a while.

"Aren't you supposed to go Abby?" You asked unsure of why she still stood there.

"Open it"

with a raised eyebrow you opened the letter.

The page was complete white, but in the middle of the page there was some words written in black ink.

Will you go on a date with me?

From your favorite postwoman

Abby <3

You looked up at her with eyes wide, and she awkwardly brought her hand up to scratch the back of her neck.

"So?" She asked unsure.

She looked terrified.

"Fuck yes" You breathed before you leaped forward bringing her in for a hug. You gave her a kiss on a cheek as you pulled away, her face was red.

You made her so fucking nervous.

"Can we go out tonight?" Abby looked at you with a hopeful smile.

"See you tonight ms postman"

Dina ??? Masterlist

main master list

about me!

Stories｡𖦹°‧⭑.ᐟ

- one chance: In which the popular girl asked you out

- guard dog: In which you protected her

- could've been: in which you could've been something special

- all that's left is us: in which you found eachother

WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

THANK YOU, I LOVE YOU GUYS SM

I'm in actual fucking tears

Hey so could you maybe do ellie with “I was all over her” by salvia Plath

I was all over her - (ellie williams x reader)

Hi anon! i tried a different format because im still trying to get used to how to write and stuff lol, also the song choice??? hello??? one of my favorite crying songs fr, i hope you enjoy <3

This story is based off the song I was all over her by Salvia Palth! if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open again! send me your silly thoughts

warnings: murder, angst, sadness, mommy issues

Summary: in which she wanted to be all over you

authors note: uni applications are open this month im so nervous that i wont get accepted... im stress writing bro

masterlist

The light was really bright, it hurt her eyes. Ellie hates bright lights.

The buzzing also bothered her.

"How can you be so bright and also make such an annoying sound at the same time?" she wondered as she stared at the lights on the roof.

It was cold in here too.

Fuck

it was really cold. She should've worn a jacket.

The room was plain too. There was just a table a few chairs.

Who decorated this place?

Ellie was snapped out if her judgmental thoughts when detective Miller walked into the room, and he sat across her.

"Do you know why you're here?" he asked coldly.

Ellie's handcuffs rattled as she sat up straight.

"I don't" she lied.

"Do you know y/n?" he suddenly asked.

Ellie's eyes widened slightly at the mention of your name. She knew you were. She knew you very well.

You guys were at the same party that night.

That night.

The night she wanted to forget so badly. But how could she? It was engraved into her mind.

She remembered everything.

"She's missing" he said.

"I know"

"I need you to be very honest with me. Do you know what happened to her?"

"No" Liar.

She knew what happened. She was the reason everything happened. She was already drowning in her own guilt.

Detective Miller leaned back into his chair and he let out a dramatic sigh. He knew Ellie knew something, he could sense it.

"Tell me what you remember from that night"

Her muscles tensed when she started telling the story.

"Don't know what I wanted, I have a memory"

Ellie walked into the party, and her nose scrunched up at the smell of weed. Wherever she looked there were people either smoking or drinking, or they were half naked and making out. The room was packed and there was barley space for her to walk.

Ellie hated small spaces, that's why she hated parties. The big crowds, the smells and liquids everywhere, she hated it.

She doesn't know why she was there.

She remembered finding you all alone and sitting at the top of the staircase. She remembered sitting next to you. She remembered how you looked at her.

She remembered, she remembered, she remembered, she remember-

"and then what happened" the detective asked her, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"I don't remember" she lied.

"People saw the two of you go into a room together. What happened in there?"

"Back at that party, I was all over her, We didn't make out or do anything, I just remember I was lonely"

You were so sweet. You were so nice and caring. You were the opposite of who she was.

What was a sweet thing like you doing at such a party?

She remembered how you told her that you enjoyed her company, and how you asked her to go somewhere private so the two of you could get to know each other better.

Lavender.

You smelled like lavender.

As she laid next to you on that bed listening to you ramble about why social media is bad for kids she realized how empty she felt.

You made her feel so full, so loved but when you went home she had no one. You guys didn't even have to do anything, as long as she is in your presence.

You made her happy. She needed to keep you. She needed to feel full.

She remembered you falling asleep, she remembered how peaceful you looked, she remembered how she got up and locked the door.

She remembered, she remembered, she remembered-

"Ellie" detective Miller called her. Ellie looked at him with a hum.

"Let's talk about your personal life"

He needed to dig deeper. He knew she was hiding something. He could tell.

"What do you want to know?" Ellie asked with caution.

"Tell me about your mom"

Oh.

"She left"

"I know she did, but do you remember anything about her?"

She let out a sigh, the handcuffs rattled and she realized that she was still being questioned.

She can't get soft now.

"My mom always made me feel like i was a problem, she made me feel... useless." She watched as he wrote down her words.

"Do you think she was right by calling you useless?" He asked, as if he cared. He didn't care, it was his job.

After a few seconds of silence Ellie answered: "I guess I am always, it's not a problem, it's just something, I got used to it"

Ellie locked the door and she slowly walked to where you lay. You looked so peaceful. She touched your hair gently. She wanted to remember you. Ellie took the pillow she was laying on a few seconds ago and she placed it on your face.

She remembered how you screamed, she remembered how you fought back, she remembered how you begged, she remembered her mother.

Her mother left, but you wont right? this way you'll stay with her right?

She remembered how her mom made her fell, she remembered how heartbroken she was.

she remembered, she remembered, she remembered-

"what did you do to her?" Miller asked.

Tears filled Ellies eyes "i killed her"

She just wanted to keep you. She wanted you to be with her. She wanted to be all over you.

The detective let out a sigh "Ellie Williams you're being arrested for murder"

<3

Drunk texting - ellie williams x reader

this story is based off the song drunk texting by (name i will not mention) and Jhene Aiko. If you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

requests are open, send me your thoughts:)

Warning: Alcohol use, emotional angst, late-night texting, mentions of sex, unresolved feelings, soft heartbreak.

Setting: Modern College AU

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

Masterlist

1:58 AM

The party had long since blurred.

You were stretched across the living room couch, head tilted back, red cup dangling loosely from your fingers. Bass still pulsed faintly through the floor, though the crowd had thinned. You should’ve gone home. You should’ve stayed home.

But you were tipsy now. And stupid.

Which meant only one thing:

You were about to text her.

Ellie Williams.

Your ex. Or almost-ex. Or not-quite-anything that still managed to hurt like hell.

Your finger hovered over her name.

You hadn’t spoken in weeks—not really, not since that fight.

Not since you said you were done pretending.

She never said you weren’t.

She just... let you go.

But your chest was too heavy, your brain too slow, and your fingers too fast.

you:

you up?

Delivered.

Read.

Nothing.

You dropped your head back and shut your eyes.

This was a bad idea.

The last time you saw her was a month ago. Cold air. Hot tears.

You yelling in the middle of her apartment while she stood still, staring at you like you were a puzzle she couldn’t solve anymore.

“You don’t say how you feel, Ellie,” you’d snapped. “You don’t do anything until it’s too late.”

“You always want more from me,” she said quietly. “And I never know how to give it without ruining it.”

“I’m not asking for perfect. I’m asking for real.”

She didn’t stop you when you left.

But her hand lingered on the door longer than it should have.

2:14 AM

Your phone buzzed.

Ellie:

what do you want?

Your breath caught.

She was always like this—short, cautious. But she answered.

you, you typed. Then erased it.

you:

to talk

A pause. Three dots. Then nothing.

2:22 AM

Ellie:

you’re drunk

You:

so?

Ellie:

you only miss me when you’re not sober

you only remember how we felt when you can’t feel anything else

You:

that’s not true.

I miss you every fucking day.

That one stung. You knew it would. You meant it to.

Your phone buzzed again.

Ellie:

then why did you leave?

Your thumb hovered over the screen.

You:

because you never asked me to stay.

Silence.

You waited, heart racing, guilt settling like fog in your chest. Maybe that was too much. Maybe she’d block you. Maybe—

Ellie:

i didn’t know how

i still don’t

You blinked hard. The room spun.

You:

i’m outside

You didn’t even remember walking to her place. You just knew your hand was curled into a fist, knuckles lightly tapping her apartment door in the cold.

It opened slowly.

Ellie stood there in a hoodie and sweats, bare feet, eyes tired and red-rimmed. Like she hadn’t slept in days.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said. Voice small.

“I know,” you whispered. “But I needed to see you.”

She stepped back. Just enough.

You walked inside.

The place looked the same—records on the floor, your old hoodie still slung over the back of the couch. You stared at it.

“You kept it.”

“I keep a lot of things I shouldn’t,” she said quietly.

You turned. She was watching you like you were a dream she couldn’t decide was good or bad.

“Why did you answer?” you asked.

Ellie’s throat bobbed. “Because I always do. Because I want to hate you, but I don’t. Because even now... I still think about you before I go to sleep.”

Silence stretched like a wound.

“I hate that you only come back when you’re drunk,” she whispered.

You stepped closer.

“I hate that it’s the only time I feel brave enough to.”

She didn’t pull away when you reached for her hand.

The couch was cold. Her body was warm. You sat beside each other in that too-familiar way, knees brushing, fingers playing with the hem of her sleeve.

“You think if we were better at talking, we wouldn’t have fallen apart?” you asked.

Ellie laughed softly. “No. I think if I’d told you how much I loved you, you might’ve stayed.”

You froze.

She never said it back when you did. Not once.

Now you didn’t know what to say.

She turned her head. Her green eyes were glassy. Raw.

“I did,” she whispered. “I just... couldn’t say it out loud.”

You leaned in before you could stop yourself.

It wasn’t a kiss, not yet. Just your foreheads pressed together, your breath mixing with hers, that ache rising again, warm and hungry and full of everything you never said.

“I still love you,” you said, barely audible.

Ellie closed her eyes. “God, I wish I didn’t.”

Then she kissed you.

And it tasted like regret. Like forgiveness. Like maybe this time, you wouldn’t let go.

more nsfw prof!ellie <3

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

warning: NSFW content! MDNI 18+Keep reading

☆ Ellie is the kind of professor who always appears calm, put-together, and aloof — but underneath, she’s constantly distracted by you.

☆ Her glasses perched low on her nose while she grades your work have become one of your most frequent fantasies.

☆ Ellie has thought about you bent over her desk more times than she cares to admit — right in the same office where she gives lectures and writes papers.

☆ She’ll reread your essays just to touch the paper you touched — especially when you underline your name at the top.

☆ Ellie fantasizes about you showing up to her office in nothing but one of her oversized button-ups, legs bare, eyes wide.

☆ She’s into quiet dominance — never raising her voice, but speaking in that slow, precise tone that makes your thighs press together.

☆ She has a voice kink — the sound of you moaning her name softly into her neck turns her wild.

☆ Ellie has masturbated in her office thinking about you — once after you visited her wearing a short skirt and sat on her desk.

☆ She’s addicted to control: making you beg, holding your wrists down, making you say “please” even when you’re already shaking.

☆ Her dirty talk is academic and filthy: “Look how wet you are for your professor… you think you’re gonna learn anything like this, sweetheart?”

☆ She has dreams of you showing up after-hours, claiming you “need help with something,” only to end up pinned against her bookshelf.

☆ She likes teasing — whispering things in class under her breath only you can hear, smirking when you shift in your seat.

☆ Ellie wants to bend you over her desk and keep your mouth stuffed with your own syllabus. “Hope you’ve been studying, baby.”

☆ She’s a thinker — and that includes sex. She imagines everything in advance. Where your hands will go, how you’ll taste, what you’ll look like crying out for her.

☆ She’s obsessed with lingerie but only if she gets to take it off you with slow fingers and teeth.

☆ Ellie always looks so composed in public — but behind closed doors, she grabs your face with ink-stained fingers and makes you fall apart.

☆ She has a sharp eye for your body language. The second you get needy, she knows — and exploits it.

☆ Ellie wants to ruin you academically and sexually — assign a paper, then fuck you so good you forget what the topic was.

☆ She gets jealous easily, especially when other students flirt with you — her hand slides higher under the table at dinner parties.

☆ She once left a possessive hickey on your neck right before a department event, eyes smug when everyone noticed.

☆ Ellie loves watching you squirm in class after a particularly rough night. “Try to focus, sweetheart,” she’ll whisper as you blush.

☆ She enjoys making you wear discreet toys during her lectures — remote-controlled ones — and pretending not to notice as you struggle.

☆ Her favorite punishment is denial. She’ll edge you for hours, stroking you slow until you’re trembling, then pull away with a smile.

☆ She owns a journal full of fantasies and scenes she wants to try with you — detailed, organized by category, complete with diagrams.

☆ Ellie records her voice reading excerpts from her favorite books — soft, slow — and sends them to you to fall asleep to.

☆ She once wrote an erotic story about you as a writing exercise. It got her so worked up she had to take a break to handle herself.

☆ Ellie is obsessed with your scent — she’ll bury her nose in your hair, your thighs, your clothes. It grounds her.

☆ She keeps a pair of your panties tucked away in her drawer — stolen after a long night, worn thin between her fingers.

☆ She’s possessive in bed — constantly reminding you that you belong to her. “Say it,” she’ll demand, fingers deep inside you.

☆ Ellie has absolutely no issue with taking you over her desk while wearing her glasses and grading with the other hand — multitasking queen.

☆ Ellie likes to drag it out — foreplay can last hours if she has her way. She enjoys watching you slowly unravel.

☆ Her fingers are deadly — long, calloused, practiced. She knows how to curl them just right to make your stomach clench.

☆ She prefers missionary — not out of simplicity, but control. She wants to see every expression, hear every whimper.

☆ Ellie talks you through every orgasm. “You’re doing so good… just like that… let go, I’ve got you.”

☆ She likes to tie your wrists with her old ties from conferences. She makes knots with precision.

☆ Ellie’s favorite position is having you straddle her lap — shirt off, skirt still on — while she sits back and watches you ride her.

☆ She loves licking you open while you beg her to stop teasing. Her tongue is slow, focused, merciless.

☆ Ellie has a thing for spanking — not harsh, but enough to make your thighs twitch and leave her handprint.

☆ She once made you come three times before letting you touch her. “This is about you tonight.”

☆ Ellie marks her territory with her mouth — bites, hickeys, lipstick stains, spit.

☆ She’s into mutual masturbation — sitting thigh-to-thigh, watching you fall apart while she touches herself too.

☆ Ellie loves morning sex — lazy, slow, possessive. She’ll bury her face in your neck and grind until you both lose it.

☆ Her voice drops a whole octave when she gets turned on. It’s dangerous.

☆ She’s meticulous about aftercare — water, wiping you down, pulling you into her chest like you’re made of glass.

☆ Ellie has whispered “mine” into your mouth more times than she can count — like it’s a prayer.

☆ Ellie’s biggest kink is power — having it, sharing it, taking it away.

☆ She loves watching herself fuck you in the mirror. It turns her on seeing how desperate she makes you.

☆ She’s into soft degradation — “You’re such a needy little thing for your professor, aren’t you?”

☆ Ellie’s obsession with knowledge extends into sex — she reads books, watches videos, takes notes. She’s always improving.

☆ She gets off on your innocence — the way you look up at her, eager to please, so damn trusting.

☆ She’s got a praise kink too: “That’s it, baby. That’s my girl. So fucking good for me.”

☆ She’s into teasing you in public — her hand on your thigh under a table, her lips brushing your ear when she talks.

☆ Ellie once left you tied to her bed while she lectured — came home to you a mess of tears and arousal.

☆ She likes whispering instructions in your ear while you touch yourself. “Slower. Now faster. Don’t stop ‘til I say.”

☆ Ellie likes choking — gently, safely — just enough to make your world go hazy and your body trust her completely.

☆ She’s obsessed with the way your body responds to her voice alone — it makes her cocky, smug, hungry.

☆ She has a small collection of toys she uses only on you — each chosen with thought, cleaned with care.

☆ Ellie has a marking kink — she wants you walking out of her room with bruised hips and lips.

☆ She’s into roleplay — professor/student, of course. She plays it too well.

☆ Ellie once made you write a 500-word apology for teasing her in public — then read it aloud while she touched you.

☆ After she fucks you, she holds you like you’re the most important discovery of her life.

☆ Ellie keeps your moans recorded on her phone — labeled by date like research files.

☆ When you wear her clothes after sex, she stares like you just walked off a dream.

☆ She’s the type to kiss your hands reverently after restraining them — both apology and affection.

☆ Ellie gets quiet after — soft kisses, fingers brushing your hair, little murmurs like “I love having you like this.”

☆ She calls you “my girl” so casually, like it’s written into her DNA.

☆ Ellie once told you, “No matter what happens, no one will ever fuck you the way I do.” She meant it.

☆ She gets possessive when others see your marks — but secretly loves when they know you're hers.

☆ Ellie fantasizes about living with you — sex in her kitchen, grading while you ride her on the couch, lazy mornings with your thighs around her head.

☆ The smartest woman in the room, and all she ever wants is to see you underneath her, moaning her name like she’s your only thought.

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

Rose - (ellie williams x reader)

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

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts

warnings: sexual themes

Summary: in which she cant forget you

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

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

Who will be the lucky girl tonight?

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

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

Holy shit, who are you?

Her eyes scanned your body.... fuck

Maybe you'd be the lucky one

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

Oh you were feisty.

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

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

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

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

oh.

Ellie wasn't expecting that.

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

Ellie shook her head quickly gaining her composure.

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

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

Now this made her jaw drop.

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

What the fuck is happening?

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

You left the Ellie Williams speechless.

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

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

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

"h-hey" did she just fucking stutter?

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

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

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

You laugh at her. You fucking laugh at her.

"Don't be pathetic, use your words"

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

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

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

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

"see fucking pathetic"

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

What were you doing to her?

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

The rest was a blur to her.

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

After tonight she knew you fucked her over.

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

Who are you?

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

She opened her eyes to a cold empty bed.

"Fuck" she sighed.

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

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

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

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

"Fuck rose who are you?"

<3