I Love What You’ve Been Putting Out I’m So Obsessed Please Keep Going ❤️❤️

hii!! I was wondering if you could maybe do Ellie taking care of an overwhelmed and overstimulated reader? in an anxiety attack context!

Quiet Room - ellie williams x reader

Hi anon!! I hope you enjoy:)

Pairing: Ellie Williams x Reader

requests are open, send me your thoughts and ideas:)

Warnings: Sensory overload, panic, anxiety attack symptoms, soft physical touch, protective!Ellie

Summary: in which you needed comfort

Masterlist

“Too much.”

It started with the noise.

The clink of silverware, someone’s loud laugh, the fireplace crackling, babies crying in another room.

Then the lights felt too bright. The air too thick. Your shirt too tight.

You tried to hold it in, to smile when Maria offered you pie, to nod along when Jesse joked about patrols.

But Ellie noticed.

Of course she did.

She always does.

She touched your arm—gentle, grounding.

“Hey. Wanna get some air?”

You nodded, maybe too quickly.

She didn’t say another word. Just grabbed your coat, your hand, and walked you out the back door without anyone noticing.

The moment the cold air hit your face, you exhaled like you hadn’t breathed in hours.

But it wasn’t enough.

Your chest still felt tight. Your skin itched. Your heart wouldn’t slow down.

You pressed your hands to your temples.

“I can’t—I can’t shut it off,” you whispered. “It’s too loud in my head.”

Ellie didn’t try to reason with you.

She didn’t say "you’re okay,” or “calm down.”

Instead, she nodded slowly, took both your hands in hers, and said:

“Okay. Then we’ll make it quiet.”

She led you to the stables, where it smelled like hay and saddle leather, not perfume and stress. Where the only noise was a soft whinny and your own uneven breathing.

She pulled you into an empty stall, sat you down, and knelt in front of you.

“Hands on me,” she said gently.

You hesitated.

“C’mon. Just... hold onto my jacket.”

You gripped the soft fabric, trembling.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Breathe in for four. Like this.”

She exaggerated her inhale, slow and deep.

You mirrored her.

“Now hold it... three... two... and let it go.”

You exhaled.

“Again.”

She did this with you for five minutes.

Every time your eyes darted to the shadows, she squeezed your knee.

Every time your breath hitched, she whispered: “With me.”

She didn’t leave you in that storm.

She sat in it with you.

And eventually… the waves calmed.

You opened your eyes. The buzzing was gone. The weight on your chest was lighter.

Ellie smiled softly.

“Hey. There you are.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “For ruining the night.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t ruin anything. You just needed space. That’s not a crime.”

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to hers.

She stayed perfectly still—quiet, solid, safe.

“Next time,” she whispered, “we skip the party and hide in the barn from the start.”

You laughed, weakly. But real.

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

The song save your tear - the weekend reminds of a fwb situation, could you make a ellie williams x reader one?

Maybe one where ellie didnt want to have a relationship with reader and treated her like a friend so now reader treats her like a simple friend and rejects ellies advances

(if you want to make it dark you can! But i leave that up to what you think its best!)

Thank you babes!

Save your tears - ellie williams x reader

hi anon! i hope you enjoy! i wrote 2 versions to this. This and a darker version, lmk if you want that one too!!

this story is based off the song Save your tears by the weeknd, 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:)

Warnings: friends with benefits dynamic, angst and emotional manipulation, power imbalance (emotional), jealousy and toxic behavior, alcohol use

Summary: Ellie Williams never wanted commitment. When you first tangled in each other’s sheets, it was her rules: casual, no strings, no complications. You agreed—half-heartedly. But feelings grew in the silence between skin and shadows.

masterlist

The first time it happened, you were both drunk.

Not the sloppy kind—just loose enough to forget the warnings stitched into your better judgment. Ellie’s hand on your thigh, the glint of a dare in her half-lidded eyes. “We don’t have to make this a thing,” she said against your neck, casual like it was just another Friday night. “Just... fun, yeah?”

And you—foolish, soft, already hooked—nodded. “Yeah. Fun.”

It became a pattern. Late nights, tangled limbs, and laughter that always faded too quickly when the morning sun hit. Ellie would slide on her hoodie, brush a kiss to your cheek, and mutter, “Don’t catch feelings, alright?” Like it was a joke. Like she wasn’t the one carving space inside your ribs.

You told yourself it was enough. That the warmth of her body beside yours was worth the cold that followed when she left.

But the thing about pretending? Eventually, someone forgets it's not real.

The night everything shifted, you were at Dina’s.

A party, crowded and loud, red cups everywhere. You didn’t expect Ellie to show up—she hadn’t texted in three days—but there she was: leaning against the kitchen counter, beer in hand, her gaze flicking over the crowd until it landed on you.

You were talking to someone else. Some girl from Lit class. Laughing—genuinely, for once. Ellie watched, her expression unreadable.

Later, when she cornered you outside, her breath visible in the cold, her voice cracked. “Who was that?”

You blinked. “What?”

“That girl. You were flirting.”

You laughed, bitter. “Isn’t that what we do, El? Flirt with people we don’t care about?”

She flinched like you’d slapped her. Then she kissed you.

Hard. Desperate.

You let her. Of course you did. But something inside you stayed locked this time. You didn’t fall into her like before. You didn’t cry when she left.

After that night, Ellie started showing up more.

Texting. Calling. Bringing you coffee “just because.” She’d sit too close on your couch, her hand brushing yours like a ghost of what used to be. But you didn’t let her in.

You stopped waiting for her messages. Stopped rearranging your world to fit around hers.

When she said, “Let’s hang out tonight,” you told her you had plans. No explanation. No apology.

Ellie looked stunned, almost hurt. “With who?”

You shrugged. “Does it matter?”

That night, she posted an old photo of you on her story. Just your hand in hers. No caption.

You blocked her for a week.

She showed up at your apartment. Rain-soaked. Eyes red.

“I miss you.”

You looked at her like a stranger.

“You had me,” you said softly. “And you didn’t want me.”

Ellie didn’t know how to mourn something that was never officially hers.

She spent nights lying awake, replaying your laugh, your voice, the way your fingers curled into her shirt in your sleep. She used to pretend she didn’t notice. But she did. She noticed everything.

Now, she notices your absence.

The silence in her apartment is thick with your ghost.

She tries to move on. Hooking up with someone else—a distraction. But when she touches her, all she feels is how different she is from you. The wrong perfume. The wrong laugh. The wrong everything.

She leaves before it’s over.

Back in her car, knuckles white on the steering wheel, Ellie whispers to herself, “What the fuck did I do?”

You see her again at the art building.

She’s leaning against the wall, sketchbook in hand, pretending to draw. Her eyes dart up when she spots you, and there’s that flicker of hope—raw and real.

You approach. Calm.

She straightens. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Silence. She breaks first. “Can we talk?”

You nod. “Sure.”

You walk beside her, down quiet paths where words feel louder. She tells you everything. How she was scared. How she didn’t think she deserved you. How she messed it all up.

“I’m ready now,” she says. “For real. I want—”

You hold up a hand.

“Ellie…” You meet her eyes. Steady. “I don’t want that anymore.”

She freezes. Like her heart stops.

“You—what?”

“I don’t want to go back,” you say. “Not after how it felt to be your ‘almost.’ I won’t do it again.”

You see it hit her. The panic. The grief. And still—you don’t flinch.

“I’m sorry, Ellie,” you whisper. “But I stopped waiting for you.”

Later, Ellie listens to “Save Your Tears” on repeat.

She finally understands the lyrics now. Every word.

“I broke your heart like someone did to mine…”

She used to think heartbreak made her immune.

Now, she knows it just made her cruel

You move on.

Not with anyone else—not yet—but with yourself. You go to therapy. You heal. You fill your days with things that make you feel whole again. Not dependent on someone’s half-hearted love.

Ellie tries, once more. She leaves flowers. A letter.

You don’t read it.

You leave the flowers on your doorstep until they wilt.

It’s not about punishment—it’s about peace.

You don’t cry for her anymore.

She watches you from a distance sometimes, wondering if she ever really knew you. If she ever deserved to.

She doesn’t chase again.

She finally learns what it means to lose someone who loved you completely.

You let Ellie into your apartment one night, not out of love—out of curiosity.

She stands awkwardly near the door, like she knows she’s trespassing somewhere sacred.

“I’m not here to mess things up,” she says. “I just… needed to see you.”

You nod slowly, arms crossed.

“I never knew how to love you right,” she says, voice low. “But I never stopped wanting to try.”

You tilt your head. “Ellie, wanting to try means nothing when I was begging for it before.”

Her face crumples.

You let her cry.

But you don’t hold her this time.

You just say, gently, “Go home, Ellie.”

Two years later, you meet again. Different city. Different lives.

She looks older. Softer. Worn down in the way heartbreak shapes you.

You talk. Lightly. Carefully. Like a bandage being peeled.

“I never loved anyone after you,” she admits.

You smile. “I loved myself after you.”

There’s silence.

And then, for the first time, Ellie smiles too.

No expectations. Just understanding.

Sometimes love isn’t a second chance. Sometimes it’s knowing when to let go.

You sit in your apartment, tea in hand, the rain tapping against the window. You used to cry every time it rained.

Now it’s just weather.

You think about how far you've come.

How love isn’t meant to be begged for, or bargained with.

And if Ellie ever really loved you, she’ll learn that too.

You close your eyes. You are whole.

And finally—

You don’t miss her.

can you write an ellie fic based off of ‘loosing sleep’ by tzuyu? thank you! <3

Losing sleep - (ellie eilliams x reader)

Hi poookieee!!! i hope you didn't wait too long for this one. I'm lowkey nervous to post this because i wasn't sure if google translate was accurate lol<3333 I hope you enjoy....

This story is based off the song Losing Sleep by TZUYU! If you can, please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts

Warning: angst

Summary: in which you hated her

masterlist

"Staying in my room

This feeling is vivid on a sleepless night

Yeah, I know what I want

Sensitive sense

The face that emerged between the shimmering moonlight

Baby, oh, it's you

Then my heart is on fire, fire"

You screamed into your pillow as soon as you woke up.

You hated her. So fucking much.

Her entire existence bothered you, the way she talked, the way she breathed.

You hated Ellie Williams so much.

You yelled and yelled till you had no more air left.

When you left the house you saw her, when you were helping Maria in the garden you saw her, you saw her when you did your grocery shopping.

You could blame Jackson for being so small, everyone knows everyone here. But you still hated seeing her. You wish she never came here.

You didn't like the way she smiles, you don't like the way she says your name, you just don't like her.

You laid on the very pillow you just screamed into. Heavy breathes left your mouth as you looked out your window. You've been having vivid dreams about her.

She's haunting you and she didn't even know that.

You laid on your back looking at the ceiling and thinking about the dream that ruined your sleep.

You were walking through a forest. It felt so real.

The moon was high in the sky, casting a beautiful blue light onto your surroundings. You could smell the ground, you could feel the dew on your skin, you could hear the wind blowing. You were at peace.

You smelled her. You knew it was her.

You should've walked away, but you were drawn to her. You heard leaves crunching under your feet as you walked closer.

She was here. You could feel her.

You stopped when you saw a figure standing in the dark.

"Ellie" you whispered.

She took a step forward, the moonlight reflecting on her face. You took in her green eyes, her beautiful smile, her autumn brown hair.

She was beautiful.

"Hi" she said with a smile.

Before you could say anything, you woke up.

She's everywhere in Jackson, you see her stupid face everyday, why should she show up in your dreams too?

You hated Ellie Williams.

But if you hate her so much, why does your heart ache for her?

"Sí, I know you bad for me

But why are you doing this?

I keep wanting and wanting

This craving for you

I've been losing sleep over you

I've been losing sleep over you

I only think of you again

I can't sleep

Losing sleep over you

I've been losing sleep over you

White long chestnuts

Yeah, I need you by my side"

You stared at her when you went to the cafeteria the next day.

You've heard the rumors. Everyone knew of Ellie Williams. The amount of people who dream to have one conversion is endless.

Every time you hear her name, its either a story of her hooking up with someone or her homewrecking a relationship. She is a disgusting human being.

Why do you want her so much? Why do your cheeks heat up when she smiles at you? You crave her. You're starved for her despite her bad reputation.

No wait. You cant want her.

You hate her... right?

Right?

You're afraid to fall asleep. You're afraid that she'll show up in your dreams again. That one dream ruined everything.

Every time you closed your eyes you saw her smiling face.

You needed to escape her, you needed to get away from her, but she's following you around like a stupid fly.

When you lay in your bed at night, you could only think of her.

What she wore that day, with who she talked to.

She's everywhere you go, she consumes most of your thoughts, she haunts you in your dreams, she's making you lose sleep.

You really hated Ellie Williams.

"I can't bear it anymore

The flame spreads through the growing thirst

Call your name

Yeah, I can't stop

All night, all night, yeah, I think of you

Even if I close my eyes for a moment, I dream of you

I'ma dream of you, oh

All of your A to Z

Sweet toxic to me

No one but you

Put this feeling to rest"

You cant take it anymore.

Your body ached for her, in a way you've never experienced. You were thirsty and the only person who could quench that thirst was her.

Everyday without her became harder and harder.

She was all you thought you about, you saw her in everything. You cant stop.

You were addicted to the version of Ellie you created in your head.

You needed her and you were desperate. So desperate that you decided to ask her out.

It was a chilly day and you saw her standing next to Joel. You took a deep breath before you walked towards them, you gave Joel a polite "hello" and he gave you a nod.

You asked Ellie if you could talk privately and she said yes.

Holy shit, she said yes.

Your heart beat faster, she was willing to listen. The two of you walked a little distance away from Joel before you turned to her and immediately asked: "do you want to go on a date?"

She shrugged and said "sure"

She said yes.

You gave her a awkward handshake and you ran home screaming into your pillow.

This was really happening. It's not a dream anymore.

You walked into the tipsy bison, excited to finally talk to her. You stomach dropped when you saw Ellie and a redhead.

Ellie's hand was on her thigh and, and you felt sick.

They were right about her. You've been losing sleep over a girl like Ellie?

This put the feelings you had for Ellie to rest. You were done with her.

You turned and you walked out the bar, before you looked up at the sky.

You really fucking hated Ellie Williams.

<3

Professor Ellie Masterlist

thank you for all the love on professor ellie!

masterlist

professor ellie

first time (nsfw)

nsfw headcannons

more headcannons

starting a life together

getting married

having a baby

grading

aurora bloom

baby number 2

more headcannons

more nsfw neadcannons

baby brain

Aurora teaches

student flirting with you

your college party habits

her student calls you milf

ellie's wedding ring obsession

you give a lecture

Aurora's first period

ur the best😭😭 love your fics so much

STOPPPP

this has me giggling and shii... thank you sm😭

Everything I do is for you guys!! If you are happy I'm happy:)

Can you do smt for abby with the song new magic wand by Tyler the creator?

I love her puppy eyes and muscles so much 🥺

Also, i love obsessive women so

New Magic Wand - abby anderson x reader

hi anon!! fictional obsessive women are so hot ughhhhhhhh. i hope you enjoy:) also abby in this pic??? i love her.

this story is based off the song new magic wand by tyler the creator. If you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

requests are open, send me your thoughts:)

Warnings: dark themes, obsession, violence, psychological tension

Summary: Abby has never been good at letting things go. And she sure as hell isn't letting go of you.

Masterlist

You met Abby during a supply run in Jackson. Just two soldiers assigned to the same patrol, nothing special. But there was something about you—your laugh, maybe. The way you didn’t flinch when she barked orders. The way you looked at the world like it hadn’t completely fallen apart.

That was two months ago.

Now, she watches you from the shadows.

She doesn’t mean to. At first, it was casual. Coincidental. A walk past the stables. Lingering near the training yard. Asking around. But then she saw you with someone else. That girl—Mia, from the medbay. Too close. Touching your wrist. Whispering.

Abby’s jaw locked so tight her molars ached.

She waited. Quiet. Calculating.

She told herself you weren’t hers. But that wasn’t true. Not really.

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

“She’s gonna be dead, I just got a magic wand.”

You started noticing strange things.

Your door left slightly ajar when you knew you closed it. The sweater you thought you lost suddenly reappearing on your cot. A shadow behind you in the glass of the dining hall. At first, you brushed it off. The world was full of paranoia and trauma—maybe it was just stress.

Then Mia disappeared.

She never showed up to her shift. Her bunk was untouched. No note. No signs of struggle.

You asked questions. Abby watched you from across the rec room as you begged the search party to look further. No one had the energy to care. People disappeared sometimes.

But Abby cared.

Abby had taken care of the problem.

She didn't use a "magic wand"—just her hands. Just enough pressure. She didn’t scream. Abby was proud of that. No mess. No loose ends.

She thought you'd notice her now. You didn’t.

You started pulling away. Spending more time alone. Your smile—her favorite thing about you—began to dim. She hated that. Hated that you didn’t know she was trying to protect you.

Abby tried to get closer. Leaving you small things. A can of your favorite peaches. A leather glove you mentioned needing. You thanked her, politely.

But not the way she wanted.

“I need to get her out the picture, she’s really fucking up my frame.”

Abby started dreaming about you. In those dreams, you kissed her like you meant it. You let her hold you. You begged her to stay. Woke up to soaked sheets and a clenched jaw.

Reality was uglier. You barely looked at her now. You were scared—she could see it in your eyes. That made her blood boil and her stomach twist.

It was that fucking patrol leader next.

Sergio.

Too friendly. Too smug. Too willing to walk next to you, show you how to hold a better grip on your rifle.

Abby followed him. Took his knee out behind the stables. Broke his arm and left him in the snow. Said she found him that way.

It wasn’t about jealousy, she told herself. It was about clarity. You and her—there was no room for anyone else in the picture.

They were ruining the shot. The life she could see so clearly with you.

She’d fix it.

“I wanna be found, passenger in your car.”

You knew it by the fourth disappearance. This wasn’t just coincidence. Someone was doing this.

Someone was doing this for you.

That’s when you found the journal.

Hidden under the floorboard in the old stables. Pages and pages of your name. Drawings of your face. A lock of your hair taped to the corner of a page. Abby’s messy handwriting scrawled beneath every entry:

“I saw her smile today. I think she smiled at me.”

“She wore her green coat. It suits her. She looked cold—I should bring her another.”

“She looked at her again. I want to rip her throat out.”

“She's mine. She just doesn't understand yet.”

Your breath caught. She was watching you. All this time.

“You got a new friend, it hurts. I’ll make you one, I’ll make you one.”

You confronted her. Cornered her in the greenhouse, where no one else went anymore.

"Abby," you said, voice trembling. "What the fuck did you do?"

She didn’t deny it. Just looked at you like she always had—like you were the sun burning through her skull.

“I protected you,” she said. “They didn’t deserve you. None of them did.”

“You killed them,” you whispered.

She stepped closer. You flinched. That hurt her—cut deep.

“I’d do it again,” Abby murmured, voice soft and low. “I’d do anything for you.”

You should’ve run. You should’ve screamed.

But something in her eyes—something fractured and sincere—rooted you in place.

She reached out, calloused fingers brushing your cheek. You didn’t move.

"You don’t have to be scared," she whispered. "I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want you to see. We can be good, you and me."

And despite everything—the deaths, the obsession, the blood on her hands—your heart stuttered.

Because some broken, desperate part of you wanted to believe her.

Wanted to believe you could be loved that completely.

“Please don’t leave me now.”

Abby kept you in a cabin miles from Jackson. Safe. Stocked. Secluded. A place where no one could come between you.

She made you tea. Lit the fireplace. Spoke softly. Touched you like you were made of glass.

You tried to run once. She found you hours later, frostbitten and sobbing.

She carried you back. Wrapped you in blankets. Kissed your forehead.

“You don’t get it,” she murmured against your skin. “You’re all I have left.”

And eventually...you stopped fighting. Let her touch linger. Let her hold you at night.

You told yourself it was survival. But when she kissed you the first time, your lips parted.

Not in protest.

But in surrender.

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

☆ She teaches something cerebral—Literature, Creative Writing, or Philosophy—and has a cult following of students obsessed with her intellect and cold beauty.

☆ She’s the kind of professor that everyone crushes on, but no one dares approach. Sharp tongue. Impossibly high standards. A reputation for never mixing business with pleasure.

☆ She lectures with her sleeves rolled up, tattoos exposed, glasses perched low on her nose as she picks apart theories with quiet confidence.

☆ You challenge her in class. You’re clever, intuitive, and occasionally bold with your interpretations. That makes her look up from her notes more often than she should.

☆ She starts reading your papers more carefully than anyone else’s. Leaves long, thoughtful feedback. Starts quoting your insights in lectures.

☆ You feel her eyes on you. Not often—but enough to wonder if you’re imagining it.

☆ You start visiting her office under the guise of discussing assignments. She always looks up slowly when you enter. You swear her voice drops half an octave when she talks to you one-on-one.

☆ The air between you is thick. Tension buzzes under every conversation—your knees brushing under her desk, her lingering glances at your mouth.

☆ You leave every time a little breathless. Every time, you swear you’ll stop going. You never do.

☆ She’s calculated. She doesn’t take risks. But something about you breaks her pattern.

☆ She knows this could ruin everything—her job, her career, her integrity. But she can’t stop wondering what your skin would feel like under her fingers.

☆ She starts pulling away—cold in class, distant in office hours. You notice. It hurts.

☆ It happens late. You’re the last student at her seminar. The conversation turns personal. You say something that disarms her completely.

☆ You’re standing close. Her breath catches. She kisses you.

☆ She pulls away immediately. Apologizes. You tell her you wanted it. She tells you it can’t happen again (It does)

☆ You agree on rules: No affection on campus. No texting unless it’s academic. No being seen together in private spaces. Every rule falls apart quickly.

☆ She starts leaving books for you with hidden notes inside. You start staying after class even when you don’t have questions.

☆ When the door is locked, she’s softer. Takes off her glasses, lets her fingers trail across your cheek as she kisses you slowly.

☆ She lets you lie with your head in her lap while she reads aloud. Strokes your hair and calls you “baby” in a whisper.

☆ She admits she dreams about you. That sometimes she writes about you and deletes it in a panic.

☆ If someone flirts with you in class, her smile tightens. She calls on you more. Challenges your answers with sharp questions just to re-establish dominance.

☆ Outside class, she lets it out. Pulls you onto her lap and murmurs:

“You belong to me, you know that?”

“I see the way they look at you. But they’ll never know you like I do.”

☆ She tries to keep her distance, but it always ends the same—your lips on her neck, your hands under her shirt, her voice breathless: “God, I can’t stay away from you.”

☆ She’s never done this before. Never even thought about crossing the line. But for you, she’d risk it all.

☆ She scrubs your name from her personal phone. Starts using encrypted apps. Uses burner emails to talk about anything non-academic.

☆ Always looks around before letting you into her office. Never leaves a paper trail.

☆ She even gives you a code phrase—"What time is the seminar again?"—that means you want to see her alone.

☆ You like how commanding she is. How she takes control with her voice alone. She calls you “darling” or “sweet girl” only when no one else can hear.

☆ But you also love making her lose control. Love seeing her flustered. Love hearing her beg—only for you.

☆ She has a small couch. You both fall asleep tangled up after a long night of whispered confessions and kisses.

In the morning, she wakes you with soft kisses and regret in her eyes.

“We can’t keep doing this.”

“Then stop.”

She doesn’t.

☆ She writes about you. You find it once by accident. A half-finished poem with your favourite lipstick shade in the margin.

☆ She’s furious when you read it—then kisses you like she wants to drown in you.

☆ The first time she says she loves you it slips out during a quiet moment. She freezes. Looks at you with eyes full of fear and awe.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

She kisses you hard, like she’s trying to erase the fear.

☆ Only you are allowed in her apartment. She never brings anyone else. You cook together, read on the couch, listen to old vinyl records.

☆ She wears soft sweaters, no makeup, lets you sit between her legs while she grades. Sometimes she forgets the world is waiting outside.

☆ One day you accuse her of being ashamed of you. She snaps, tells you this could ruin everything. You scream that you’re worth the risk.

☆ She shows up the next day with red-rimmed eyes and a stack of your favourite books.

“I’m scared. But I want you.”

☆ She's always teaching you something new. Not just in class but in life too. She shows you how to break down arguments, how to write better, how to stand your ground in a debate.

☆ She’s fiercely proud of your mind. Tells you, “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever taught—and the only one I want.”

☆ You almost got caught a few times. A classmate sees you leaving her office late at night. Once in class you slip and say “Ellie” instead of “Professor.”

☆ You both panic. Lay low. Stop touching. Stop texting. It’s torture.

☆ She cracks first. Shows up at your dorm. “If we’re going down, I want one more night with you.”

☆ In whispered conversations at 3 a.m., you talk about a life after school. A place where she’s not your professor. A place you can be together without shame.

☆ She wants to publish a book. You want to teach. You want to love each other in the daylight.

☆ She gets offered a position at another university. She can leave—with a clean record. She asks if you’ll come.

“If we stay here, we lose. But if we go… we can finally be real.”

Omg if you’d be willing to do another boy genius song I loved the first one so much could you do cool about it it’s my favorite from them 🫶

Cool about it - (ellie williams x reader)

hi anon! I would love to do another boygenius one, I literally love them and thank you for the compliment! I hope you enjoy:)

This story is based off the song Cool about it by Boygenius, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are always open, feel free to send one! you can send me a song and I'll take it from there!

HUGE Warning: mental illness, murder, descriptions of murder, gore, mentions of touching a body, a small description of a dead animal, and Ellie being unhinged (as per usual)

Summary: if Ellie couldn't have you, she'd make sure no one else ever will.

wc: 1.7k

Met you at the dive bar to go shoot some pool

And make fun of the cowboys with the neck tattoos

Ask you easy questions about work and school

I'm trying to be cool about it

Feelin' like an absolute fool about it

Wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it

Tellin' myself I can always do without it

Knowin' that it probably isn't true

When Ellie met you, she knew her life was going to change. Whether it was for better or for worse, she didn't care.

Dina recently came out as bisexual and according to her, she needed to "meet hot girls". She dragged Ellie to a local lesbian bar and Ellie hated every fucking second of it.

She wanted to go home so fucking bad. She wanted to sleep-

"hi"

Ellie's thoughts were interrupted when she heard a voice talking from behind her. The voice of an angel, she would describe it. That voice that changed her entire life, from that moment on.

Ellie turned her head to see you.

And yeah maybe coming to the bar that night wasn't such a bad idea.

The two of you talked for hours about how shitty your college is, you talked about how Ellie wanted a promotion at the Café she was currently working at. The two of you made fun of the bartenders neck tattoos.

It was a really a night to remember.

Ellie had gotten your number and she immediately asked you out on date. And you quickly said yes. I mean, who wouldn't? It's Ellie Williams.

You made Ellie feel like a fucking fool. You were making her do things she's never done before.

She showed up to the restaurant 2 hours early, so she could choose the best table, so she could make sure the area was safe.

Her palms were wet with sweat the closer as she watched the minutes go by as she was waiting for you.

Ellie's eyes lit up when you walked info the restaurant, the air in her lungs were knocked out as you walked towards her.

You were beautiful.

"Hi" you gave her a small smile before she got up to hug you. As Ellie wrapped her arms around you, the scent of your perfume overtook her senses.

The two of you fit together like a puzzle pieces.

The date was amazing. You talked like you had known each other for years, despite only knowing each other a week at that point in time.

As the evening came to an end you told Ellie something she didn't want to hear.

"Look I'm not looking for something serious, just casual hook ups that's all. No feelings attached"

"no feelings?" Ellie asked in shock

"Yeah" you replied. "Just be cool about it"

How could she be cool with only hooking up with the girl, she thought was her soulmate?

I came prepared for absolution, if you'd only ask

So I take some offense when you say, "No regrets"

I remember it's impossible to pass your test

But I'm trying to forget about it

Feelin' like I'm breaking a sweat about it

Wishin' you would kindly get out of my head about it

Tellin' myself one day I'll forget about it

Knowin' that it probably isn't true

Ellie hoped that one day you'd call her and say that you regret only hooking up with her. She hoped that you'd tell her that you wanted more than sex.

But at this rate Ellie doesn't think that will happen.

You'd only call her when you were alone or bored, and Ellie being stupid and in love, always went.

She'd drop everything for you.

She knows this is toxic, being in love with someone you know will never fucking love you is bad.

But Ellie hoped this was a test.

She hoped you were testing her, testing her loyalty. It was unlikely, but she always had hope.

You were in Ellies mind, like a fucking plague. Like a fly that wouldn't go away.

Everything she looked at, everything she smelt or touched reminded her of you. And she was sick of it.

She saw you in her dream, and in her nightmares. Ellie saw you everywhere.

She already couldn't have you, now you were haunting her.

Is this some kind of joke? Did you ask a spell on her?

She'd beg the stars above to have mercy on her. To make her even forget about your existence entirely. But she couldn't.

You were there to stay. To haunt her. To mock her. Maybe one day she'll move on, but for now she has to deal with being with your side chick.

If only you'd given her a chance, you'd still be alive right now.

Once, I took your medication to know what it's like

And now I have to act like I can't read your mind

I ask you how you're doing and I let you lie

"Ellie when last have you taken your medication?" Joel asked as he walked into Ellie's room.

Empty plates and cups littered the room as he saw a few bugs run around.

Ellie's head snapped towards the door when she heard him talk.

"Ellie you know you need it" Joel tried talking with her again

"I dont"

"you'll hurt someone if you don't drink it" he tried reasoning with her

"I'm fine, I won't hurt anyone"

"don't lie Ellie"

"Joel get the fuck out" and with a sigh Joel left the room.

"I need to get into her mind" Ellie spoke aloud even though there was no one there.

"She left me Barry... why would she leave me for her?"

She needed to know why you didn't want her. She needed to know why you chose some blonde bitch over her.

She was cool with the arrangement that the two of you had. Strictly sex and nothing else. She got to see you, she got to spend time with you, but now that you have someone else.

You stopped seeing her.

What made Abby so special, that you could commit to her and not to Ellie? What was wrong with her?

"What can we do?"

"Hurt her? No that's not nice Barry" she told him.

"Wait so you're saying if we kill her no one will touch her?" She asked him.

"If she says no i'll hurt her...yeah thanks Barry"

Ellie excitedly got up from her bed as she reached out to grab her phone. She quickly texted you asking you to come over because the two of you had to talk about something important.

You said you'd be there in an hour and grin spread across Ellie's face.

Joel had left the house to go to see Ellie's therapist. He was very fucking concerned and he was afraid for his own safety.

Joel knew there was something wrong with Ellie since she was 5 years old.

She was playing out in the garden, before Joel called her in a for dinner. But Ellie excitedly told him "come look, I made a friend!"

With smile Joel walked out, but his smile was soon overcome with pure horror and shock.

Blood littered the grass a squirrel lay there cut in half.

Joel turned to Ellie as she looked at him with a big smile.

"Barry made me do it!"

Therapy session after therapy session, but yet no one knew why a 5 year old was killing animals.

They told Joel he was being overdramatic, that she was just acting out. But the older Ellie grew, the more violent her acts became.

She killed animals, she hurt her friends. She wasn't a kid acting out, she was a girl with a serious problem.

They gave her medication, to keep whoever Barry was quite. Without barry Ellie lived a happy life. A peaceful life.

But now, because of you, for the first time in years, she heard Barry talk to her again.

Barry always knew best in Ellie's eyes.

Ellie quickly cleaned the living room, before she hopped into the shower. All you needed to do was say yes, and she wouldn't hurt you.

Just say yes.

But we don't have to talk about it

I can walk you home and practice method acting

I'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning

Tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing

Even though we know it isn't true

"please give me one chance" Ellie begged.

She watched you lower your heard as you let out a sigh.

"Ellie I can't, you know I don't feel the same way"

"Please try" she begged.

She hoped you would say yes. She didn't want to hurt you. You would be ok, you would walk out of here alive if only you said yes to her.

The love Ellie had for you was killing her. It felt like she was drowning.

Either you let her love you or she'd make sure nobody would ever love you again.

Ellie felt the cold blade of the knife dig into her back. She had hid the knife behind the chair she was sitting at and all she wanted was for you to say yes.

She needed you to just give her a chance and everybody would be happy. Everybody would be safe and you would leave alive.

"Ellie I said no"

Ellie's eye slightly twitched as she took a deep breathe. She closed her eyes lowering her head into her hands.

why didn't you just say yes?

She got up grabbing the knife, hiding it behind her back as she made her way towards you.

With tears in her eyes, Ellie looked at you and said "you should've said yes"

You looked at Ellie as she towered over you, you opened your mouth to say something but you suddenly felt something cold in your shoulder.

You looked to your seeing there was a knife, with eyes wide you looked back at Ellie as you let out a whimper.

"Why?" You asked her, as you felt the unbearable pain in your shoulder.

"you should've said yes" Ellie repeated, as she removed the blade from your shoulder.

You let out a cry, when the blade was pulled from your shoulder.

You tried moving away from Ellie, but she was bigger than you and much stronger. You had nowhere to run and all you could do was accept your fate.

Ellie brought the knife down as she stabbed you in the stomach.

"You should've said yes" she repeated.

The knife was pulled from my stomach, and she slashed your left cheek.

"You should've said yes"

She brought the knife directly into your eye socket.

"You should've said yes" she repeated as she slit your throat.

"You should've said yes" Ellie yelled as she repeatedly brought the knife down, stabbing you all over your body.

Blood spattered everywhere, and there wasn't an inch of your skin that was left uncut or without blood.

The last words you ever heard that day was "you should've said yes"

maybe you should have.

Ellie threw the knife somewhere in the room as heavy breathes left her mouth. Ellie looked down at your body, with a small smile on your face.

"We did it", she muttered to herself.

Ellie gently placed your still warm, and still bleeding body onto the floor, before she got onto her knees to give you a kiss on your forehead.

"I'm sorry I hurt you" she brought her hand up to wipe the blood from your lips.

"but it had to be done"

She lowered herself onto your chest. Ellie lay there cuddling with your dead body, she closed her eyes and she let out a hum of approval.

She's definitely has to thank Dina for taking her to that bar.

Authors note: well I've been posting everyday for the last 4 days and I'm so sorry for spamming, but I have so many requests and I'm trying to get everything done for yall. So just know for the next few days, I'll be feeling you with ALOT of content lmfao.Remember you are loved and to always be kind. I love you all.

Yours truly,

Zia:)

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.”