Ellie Fluff - Tumblr Posts
☾ MASTERLIST ☽
series
⎈ EMBERS
⎈ PICKING UP THE PIECES
⎈ BEYOND LOVE
oneshots
⎈ SELF CONTROL - one shot, sfw
⎈ INDICA - one shot, nsfw
drabbles
⎈ GOLDEN TOUCH - drabble, fluff, sfw
⎈ WREATHE - drabble, fluff, sfw
EMBERS - bonus ch.
alright, this is the ACTUAL end now. send requests cuz i have noooooo idea what to do after this...
pt. 3
pt. 2
pt. 1
masterlist
It’s been almost a year since you made it official and, yet, Ellie still swings your arm like she’s trying to rip it right out of its socket when she’s holding your hand.
You huff at her and swing back with all of your strength to throw her off but the laugh that escapes her lips tells you you’re doing a shitty job of it.
She’s dragging you to the kitchen, says she wants to watch some shitty horror movie, but she needs a fuck ton of popcorn because heaven knows she devours it within seconds.
The two of you are standing in front of the microwave, patiently watching the bag spin, over and over again. Ellie looks entranced by it when you glance over at her, so you almost feel guilty when your hand juts out and slaps her non-existent ass.
Almost.
It was barely harder than a pat, but Ellie throws her head around to look at you in complete shock her eyes carrying the horror of someone who was just impaled, shouting, "Hey!"
It’s hard to hold back a chuckle as you mumble, “Go put the movie on, babe.”
But, then again, that’s probably what she was waiting for: you to let your guard down. So that, as you stood there, laughing to yourself innocently, she could reach her own hand out and slap your ass with enough force to make the walls shake.
You let out a small yelp, grabbing onto the counter and spinning around to see Ellie walking quickly back to her bedroom, chuckling to herself deviously.
You tut as you take the popcorn out and shout over your shoulder, “Yeah, you better run, jackass! I’m coming for you!”
You walk back to the bedroom carrying the comically large bowl of popcorn and the muffled sound of her laughter meets your ears, making you smile to yourself.
Ellie once told you your laugh was her favorite song during one of her cheesiest moments; you had made fun out of her for it then, but you understood how she felt. You understand.
You walk over to the bed that Ellie has already gotten more than comfortable in and raise an eyebrow at her, to which she responds by grabbing your waist and pulling you down onto her with a soft groan,
"C'mere."
The room is filled with warmth, your body heat dancing with Ellie's as you drowsily watch the screen, only refocusing when she sniffles or grunts, feeling the vibrations against your skin.
But the grunts begin to get more frequent, drawing you to glance at her every now and then, to see her eyebrows pulled together in a slightly pained expression.
The fourth time you look at her, your eyes meet her forest green ones, the ones that are inspecting your face. You sit up and try to ignore how overly aware you are of the loss of comfort,
"You okay, baby?"
"Mhm, come on," she pulls you back against her chest and, though you should probably drop it, you stare up at her and pry further.
"Does your head hurt, Els? Should I turn the lights on?"
"Nah, I'm okay, babe. Just watch, yeah?"
"You sure? You want water? Oh, I know you haven't drank-"
"Babe. I'm fine."
"But, you don't look fine..."
"But I am fine."
You keep your eyes focused on the slight furrow of her brow; it’s been etched onto her face since you started the movie. You let out a loud sigh to make sure she knows you don't believe her.
Ellie looks down at you, smirking as she heaves out an exaggerated sigh mockingly. You huff,
“Whatever,” and pull her arms off of your waist to lay beside her instead, but she quickly wraps them around you again like clockwork. Her chest hums rhythmically against your back as she lets out a small laugh.
"Always so caring. Just feeling kinda tired.” She presses a kiss to your shoulder oh so gently, her voice low and raspy,
“But I can't sleep without holding you, you know that, babe, don’t move.” Another to your flushed cheek,
“Very irresponsible of you.”
You look over your shoulder at her face, all the addictive details illuminated by the gentle glow of the lamp lit on her bedside table, and touch your lips to hers, all the love you feel for her pouring out of you into her sweet mouth.
She kisses you back, chasing your lips drunkenly when you pull away and drag her down so she’s laying, at which point, she rests her head in the crook of your neck and breathes you in.
With her arms wrapped around you and your leg thrown over her waist, your hand comes up to play with the short, jagged locks of auburn hair that you love so dearly, lulling you both into a tranquil slumber
-
When you open your eyes, half of your mind still asleep, the space beside you is empty. Warmth still lingers upon the sheets, like the ghost of Ellie’s presence.
You rub the sleep out of your eyes as you sit up in confusion. Quite a while ago, she had gotten up to go the bathroom, but now you’re slightly worried she’s fallen asleep in there.
Again.
With a groan, you leave the comfort of the duvets to check up on her, muttering,
“Ellie?”
But your feet don’t even reach the ground before you see her, laying face down on the ground, limbs spread like a starfish, and you audibly gasp.
“…Ellie, what the fuck?”
She stirs and looks back at you, wincing and groaning.
“Did you fall asleep on the way back?”
“No! No… Fuck- it just hurts…”
“What? Did you trip? Why are you on the floor, babe?”
“Can’t move.”
“Why not?”
“Fuckin’… Period’s… being a fuckin’ asshole…”
“Oh… Hate that guy.”
You struggle to pull her up, supporting her weight as you go back to the bed. Each grunt or shaky breath Ellie lets out draws a sympathetic hum from you. She’s mumbling dazedly, “I’m fucking dying.”
She looks uncomfortable, it makes you want to wrap her up and hug her tight, but you just press a loving kiss to her freckled skin and rush around to grab whatever it is that you think she needs: painkillers, water, food, etc.
“Oh yeah, a hot water bottle, you need a hot water bottle too. I’ll go find one.” You turn on your heel to scurry off but she takes your hand before you can escape again and places it on her stomach.
“…Like I did for you, remember? Feels better than any of that other shit.”
You massage the skin tentatively, glancing up at her to see, from her expression, if it feels nice.
Her eyes are closed in contentment.
She looks so serene, so beautiful, you can’t help but swoon. The sight of her in pain made your heart clench; you desperately wish she’ll feel better soon.
Unbeknownst to you, Ellie is loving this. The way you’re looking after her makes it so fun. She’s aware of the strangeness of that.
Might just drag it out a little while longer…
How can she resist, when you kiss her forehead so lovingly? She opens her eyes to look at you before asking,
“What is it?” at the sight of you smiling.
“Hm? I just..”
Ellie is already giving you a shit-eating grin. You don’t even have to say it, she knows.
As she pulls you into a tight hug, your heart right by her’s, she knows. She kisses you, she knows.
It’s nice until she’s squeezing you tight enough to make you groan.
“Thank you for being so sweet, baby”
“Owed you one for looking after me too… and for, you know, being my girlfriend… I love you.”
“I love you too.”
can u do ellie best friends to lovers with a lil angst 👀
SELF CONTROL
masterlist
Dim warm lights, the constant hum of talking and laughter, bodies swaying to the gentle music like grass in the breeze.
Somewhere near the centre of the buzz, Dina and Jesse are slow dancing. The sight warms your heart; your face brightens with a small half-smile and you look down at the alcohol in your cup which you’ve been nursing for a while. A nervous habit.
The metallic taste of blood seeps into your mouth rather than the bitterness of the drink as you chew your bottom lip and look back up to scan the room for Ellie. Again.
You’ve been standing awkwardly by the drinks for a while now, the place that the two of you usually spend most of your time at whenever there’s a dance.
She had gone to go find someone, telling you she’d be right back, but she still hasn’t returned and it’s pissing you off ever so slightly.
The only part of these things that you enjoy is chatting drunkenly with her after all.
Or, just being in her presence. You’d enjoy just that. The warm, tingly feeling makes almost anything worth it. You’ve known for years that you are in love with Ellie Williams, and almost everyone else in Jackson knows it too.
You like to pretend it’s not like that; she’s your best friend and you’re just super close, especially since Jesse and Dina got together so you spend less time together as a group and rather just as the two of you, but you know that’s bullshit.
You’ve had a crush on her since the day she arrived in Jackson, and it has only grown larger and larger into this undeniable love for her. It sits in your chest and squeezes your heart cruelly, clawing at the bars of your rib cage and churning your stomach whenever she’s around.
You’ll never be able to tell her about your feelings, and you’re lucky no one outright talks about it when she’s with you. Because the two of you are best friends; attached at the hip, as the elders often muse.
And, though it hurts, for now, you’re okay with being just that.
Your eyes skim over the sea of dancing figures, stopping abruptly at the familiar sight of choppy auburn hair.
Ellie.
Your heart drops when you see the reason she’s not with you in the form of a girl with short black hair and arms that are draped over Ellie’s shoulders.
Ellie’s dancing with Cat. But Ellie never dances with anyone. Hell, she’s only ever danced with you or Dina about two times at best.
There’s a horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach - something akin to nausea, anger, and despair. They’re standing too close. Ellie’s holding onto Cat’s waist too comfortably. The hall is too small. The air is too hot. Everything is too much.
You only just saw it but the room is already becoming blurry, so you place your drink down at the table shakily and walk out as quickly as you can, eyes glassy and legs quivering, ignoring the sound of Dina’s voice calling out to you over the much too loud music. Your ears are still ringing when you get home.
Ellie looks over at the table and notices the absence of you. Suddenly, she feels thrown off. You’re always there. Where did you go? She chews her lip - a habit the two of you share - as she looks back down at Cat, silently telling herself you probably just went to the bathroom.
When the song ends, she eagerly separates from the confused girl and jogs over to Dina to ask about you.
“You just missed her. She upped and left about five minutes ago. Tried to talk to her but she looked kinda out of it. I think she wasn’t feeling well.”
“Did she look ill?”
“I don’t think so. Maybe just drunk.”
“Why’d she go? She didn’t even tell me she was leaving…”
“I’m sure she’s fine, El, you’ll see her tomorrow anyway.”
“Right.”
——
The thought of patrol is making you deeply upset.
You don’t know how to face her; how you can look her in the eye when you feel so hideously jealous over something as small as seeing her dancing with another girl.
A few steps behind at all times, you pick at your nails as you muster up the effort to pretend that you’re not feeling like shit.
Shouldn’t be this hard to talk to your best friend.
Ellie looks over her shoulder at you for a moment and you’re already dreading what’s coming when her eyes meet yours.
“So, where’d you go last night? I looked around and you were gone.”
“I… just- home. I went home. Wasn’t feeling it.”
Ellie nods as her head turns to face forward once more. She’s rambling on about something but you can’t hear her. You’re about to do something you will inevitably regret - in fact, you regret it before even doing it.
“You looked like you were having fun, though… Cat, huh?”
The smile that plays on Ellie’s lips makes all those feelings you felt at the party rush through you again. With intensity. Once more, you feel nauseous.
“Yeah… We’re just… It’s just a thing. I don’t know. She’s cool…”
You’re face morphs out of a grimace and into one of neutrality when Ellie looks back at you nervously again, smile slightly more unsure as she gauges your reaction.
Of course she cares about your opinion of Cat. You’re best friends. For that reason, you force a smile to push up your aching cheeks and shove her shoulder gently as you trek further into the snow.
“A thing? Wow. I’m sure she’d love hearing that.”
Ellie throws her hands up in defeat, “Hey, I never claimed to be good at this sappy shit.”
“Pfft, yeah. I’m more than aware of that.”
Ellie laughs and grabs onto your waist wordlessly to move you out of the way of a branch you were going to trip over,
“You’re such an asshole. Fine, right now, there’s not really a label, but, I mean, she’s cute. I don’t know, maybe something could come outta this.”
You nod, but the juxtaposition of her words and her touch are driving you insane.
“Cool. You looked cute as fuck together.”
All you can hope is that she can’t tell your words are laced with bitterness. But you’ve known each other for years. Ellie can obviously tell that something is wrong. The way you brushed her hands away and kept walking was a pretty obvious sign.
Ellie makes incessant attempts at starting conversations, but your one word responses leave her feeling confused, her signature smirk faltering.
As you return to the stables in silence, you can feel her gaze piercing through the side of your face before she reaches out her hand and rubs your back gently, as she usually does whenever you’re sad.
“You okay?”
You try to play off the way you flinched under her touch and clear your throat, refusing to meet her strong gaze as you move away from her.
“I’m fine, yeah, just tired.”
She stops and stands still, watching in confusion as you walk off in the direction of your home without acknowledging her again.
Over the next few days, she can see clearly that something is happening quick, that the trajectory of your relationship is pummelling towards the ground, but she can’t figure out why. At that point, it really doesn’t take a genius to see.
The day after, on your way to the stables before patrol, you encountered a sight that took your already breaking heart out and trampled all over it.
Ellie and Cat were making out. And, though you’re used to hearing details about Ellie’s emotions, seeing it in the flesh occurring with so much passion is like a slap to the face.
The last few months had given you hope. You had felt as though your dynamic was becoming more affectionate. You must’ve been badly mistaken. This was confirmation that there was no meaning to the drawn-out glances and lingering touch. No feeling. No reciprocation. God, you feel like an idiot.
You can’t believe Ellie still doesn’t know. You can’t believe you have to go through this again, even if you have a feeling they won’t last very long. Will you really just spend your whole life obsessing over her? You feel like you’ve been pushed past breaking point.
Before you know it, you’re back at home with the door slammed shut behind your heaving figure. You know it’s completely idiotic that you’ll be holed up in here for the next few days, moping over Ellie. At least now, it’s for the last time.
You won’t let yourself crawl back to her.
Ellie walks away from your locked door with a frown, a hoarse voice and knuckles sore from knocking to no avail for the nth time that week.
You don’t open up. You can’t see her, not for a while.
Dina stops by almost every day, brushing her fingers through your hair and comforting you while trying to get you to go out and meet someone else. Maria borderline harasses you through her, asking when you’ll be back on patrol, if you’re still all depressed.
You can’t help but want to sink into your bed and stay there for eternity.
And when you finally start going out again, you catch wind of Ellie spending more and more time with Cat, not understanding why you’re suddenly nowhere to be found. Obviously, Ellie hasn’t declared anything to be official, but you refuse to read into it. Ellie’s never been one to do shit like that.
She speaks to Dina about it constantly, looks around for you in her free time, chases after you when she catches glimpses of you around the market. You rarely stop or give her more than a tight-lipped smile, claiming you’re busy.
You’re always out of reach.
But the straw to break the camel’s back is being met with Jesse’s face instead of yours on the day that you’re supposed to return to patrol. Patrol, with her.
Irrefutable evidence that you’re avoiding her.
Even now, however, she can never manage to get a hold of you to confront you about it. Her mind is consumed with thoughts of you. The last few weeks had been chaotic, the hours you spent together daily suddenly dissipating into a head nod as you speed past her on the rare occasion your paths cross. She has so much to tell you, and so much to ask you. Too many questions.
So, when she finally sees you stagnant at the Tipsy Bison, her heart starts racing.
Of course, you’re not beckoning her over by the drinks like you used to. You’re standing by a girl she somewhat recognises, throwing your head back in laughter and touching the girl’s arm in a way that makes Ellie’s jaw clench.
That’s the way you act around Ellie, or used to. That was the way it had always been, and it was a comforting affection that she had found solace in. That was your friendship; it felt like home.
But, now you left Ellie waiting at your doorstep and invited someone else in. She knew deep down that it was weird for her to feel this way about you being “friendly” with another girl, but her thoughts were clouded as she watched you. You replaced her.
The girl you’re with is someone you barely recognise, but she seems nice enough to make you want to be around her. Maybe you’re finally moving on from the crush that had you in a chokehold since you were 15. Or maybe the way a lock of her hair fell out of her low bun and framed her face reminded you of something, or someone, you craved desperately.
Whatever. You’re drunk enough to stop feeling anxious about seeing Ellie again in a place you couldn’t avoid her in.
When that familiar cold touch settles upon your shoulder and you’re spun around to face the person you had been running from for weeks, you just shrug it off and turn back to face the girl, Emily, or something.
Damn, even the name.
But she’s noticed the tension and she’s not continuing the conversation.
Ellie grabs you by the shoulders and turns you back around in frustration,
“Maybe you should cool it on the drinks, dude, you don’t even know this chick. She’s practically on top of you…” Ellie whispers aggressively and you know that she’s beyond pissed off because she rarely lets herself get so obviously annoyed.
“Whatever. Can you leave? I’m in the middle of something.”
She scoffs, a flash of hurt illuminating her irises,
“Are you serious?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“You know what? You’re clearly drunk off your ass so let’s get you home, Y/N.”
That throws you off the edge,
“Fuck off, Ellie! What right do you have to say shit about who I’m fucking around with! You’re just a friend!”
Ellie’s expression becomes unreadable. Her hand curls around your wrist as she mutters, “… I know, but, I’ve been meaning-”
“We’re friends. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
The upset flickers through Ellie’s expression just long enough for you to notice before it darkens coldly again. She squeezes your wrist tight and starts pulling you towards the exit, both of you becoming aware of the people stopping and watching the interaction go down.
“C’mon. You’re drunk. I’m taking you home.”
You squirm, hunching over and dragging your feet as she leads you out while you try to pry her fingers off of you. It’s no use.
“Ellie, fuckin’ get off! I’m not-”
She turns and you flinch at the stern glare she gives you before saying,
“Stop being a fucking dick and cooperate for once.”
Your shoulders slump as she pulls you out and you blink back the tears that threaten to fall, whispering,
“I’m tired of this...”
Ellie doesn’t look back at you. She just keeps walking.
“What? You don’t wanna be friends anymore? Are you a goddamn five year old? Fuckin’ go ahead. I couldn’t give a shit less. I’m still taking your ass home.”
“Yeah! I don’t wanna be your fucking friend, Ellie! I’m tired of lingering around and- and pining after you for forever, or some shit. I don’t wanna watch you do all the shit I wanna do with you with some other girl! I hate it! It’s not fair; you keep giving me mixed signals-”
She stops dead in her tracks, still refusing to look at you.
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit! If you don’t like me, why are you so fucking touchy? Why do you say all of that flirty shit when you’re drunk or high? Why do you get all protective when someone’s being flirty! Everyone and their fucking mom knows I have been in love with you for so long, it’s ridiculous, so stop ignoring it and just fucking turn me down or leave me the fuck alone! It’s not fair, Ellie. You can’t keep leading me on!”
She just shakes her painfully beautiful head and turns her gaze to the floor. You can feel the shattered remnants of your hearts piercing through your insides. You don’t want to hear what’s coming.
“You don’t want this. You dont. You dont know what you’re getting into.”
“I know you better than almost anyone. Yes, I do. You don’t get to decide that.” Your voice comes out shaky, defeated, but there’s no way you could get any more ashamed.
She finally turns to look at you, squeezing your wrist ever so slightly. Her thumb gently traces circles into the skin and there’s a sadness that paints her face in a way you’ve never seen before, one that makes you want to hold her.
“No… I don’t get to. But, you’re you… If it’s you, it’ll get too real. I can’t handle that. I’m not good at this shit. I can be open and free with you when we’re the way we are now. What we have now is good. If I let it happen, I’m scared I won’t be able to give you what you want. You deserve better. I’m sorry.”
The night breeze embraces the two of you, connecting you in a way that the words which die on your tongue are incapable of doing. There are unspoken truths in the way you look at each other. A comfort in the touch, hidden beneath the pain.
You don’t want to hear all the complications. You don’t want to worry about that shit. You just want her to hold you. You just want her.
With tears, thick as blood and carrying your love, running down your cheeks, you rest your head on Ellie’s shoulder and let yourself go.
“Please, Ellie. Please. Just stop. I just wanna be with you. I don’t care about that shit. I love you so much, it hurts. Don’t leave me like this. Please.”
A shaky breath escapes her lips as Ellie’s rigid figure relaxes into you.
“Fuck, you’re making it so hard to have self control.”
“Then, let go of it, Ellie, please.”
Gentle touch, her fingers caress your face as they brush the hair stuck to your cheeks, wet with tears, behind your ear and tilt it up so you’re looking at her. You love her. You love this.
“…I love you too.”
Then, Ellie leans in and gives you what you’ve been yearning for for years.
——
idk how i feel abt this but OH WELL and also dk if anon wanted a modern au but i might do that later with this concept anyway so don’t fret 😩 send more requests before i decay.
i have huge massive penis.
shitty drabble abt massaging ellie’s back, fluff, still mdni just because 🫤
“Babe?” Ellie rasps out, clearing her throat in an attempt to sound more relaxed.
A groan escapes your lips as you exhale to which she reaches her calloused hand out to wake your half-closed eyelids with a caress of her thumb,
“Hm? That a ‘yes’, babe? Promise I'll go right to sleep after.”
She peppers your forehead with gentle kisses, pulling back to watch your eyes flutter open before you take hold of her shoulders and guide her to turn onto her other side. She follows your movements willingly, a small smile gracing her lips as a sigh passes through.
You push the hem of her shirt up, leaving the fabric scrunched just above her tantalizing shoulder blades and instinctively, you run your fingers along her skin - the freckled small of her back.
It vibrates against your palm when Ellie produces a guttural noise as you apply pressure.
“Yeah, perfect, babe... Right there,” she says, the relief evident in her voice. She closes her eyes to block out anything that distracts her from the feeling, and melts into your palms as you work out the sore spot on her back.
“Just keep it going for a few minutes, yeah?”
And you hum in compliance, you wouldn’t stop. God, she works all day, never looks after herself. It makes your heart ache to think of how her arms must sting constantly with the pain that lingers from over-exerting herself every day. There’s nothing you want more than to lay her down and take it all away.
And there’s a sliver of joy hidden in a shaded crook of your heart because she’s tired - because she’d only ever come to you for comfort…
For now, you do what you can, with care and affection, glancing at her face intermittently to see if she seems more relaxed. It’s working; she visibly sinks into your embrace as you run your hands up and down the expanse of her back.
“Yeah, that's... that’s it, babe… Perfect,” she sighs, muttering a quiet,
“You can stop whenever you feel like it.”
Her tense, angular body seems to melt into the mattress she’s curled up on, as you knead out the bindings of her labour with your golden touch, watching her come undone before you.
In response to a sigh which tells you she’s falling asleep, you give her the space she usually craves, yet as soon as you pull away from Ellie's back and turn over, she lets out a soft groan and turns to eye you over her shoulder.
“Still hurts?”
"Yeah... still hurts," Ellie murmurs, turning to face forward again as your hands find their way to her skin once more, though her words are dripping with insincerity, "Still hurts so much..."
And you don’t mind; you love that she loves your touch indescribably. So you keep going, unwinding the stress coiled around her like a seamstress to a spindle, until your arms begin to ache and, then, you stop your hands in their tracks.
You press soft kisses like the flutter of butterfly wings upon her skin, before wrapping your arms around her lean waist and throwing a leg over her with your cheek pressed against the warmth of her back.
“Thank you, baby,”
she says, her voice a rasping murmur, a ripple of vibrations against your face, drowning out into the rhythm of her heartbeat pulsing through her being. She can hear yours as well; feel your careful, gentle breaths feathering her back. Almost feels like you’re sharing a heart…
Drunk on fatigue, Ellie turns so the tip of your nose brushes against her bare chest, allowing herself to shamelessly be desperate for your touch.
She wraps an arm over your waist, wanting to engulf your body with her own, wrap around you and hold you in the safety of her rib cage for eternity.
You welcome her greedy love, leaning into her hold, wanting her to take you in just as much.
“Night, babe, I love you,”
“Love you too, Els, night.”
PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———
ch. 1
ch. 2
ch. 3
ch. 4
ch. 5
ch. 6
a/n: short first chapter 🫤 also BORING AS FOCK but the next few will be longer and better, just stick with me cw: implied depression/ptsd, dark themes, not too heavy but please don’t read if this might trigger you, angst, no smut in this chapter but there might be some later on, creds to cafekitsune for dividers, MDNI 😡
Six months ago today, your gaunt figure limped through Jackson for the first time, arms scarred and trembling, and face adorned with a vacant expression. You’ve been here for a while now.
You heard Maria say, with time, you’d come out of your shell - actually speak to the others. But, no, you still stay holed up in your decaying room, recalling what happened that day obsessively, and only ever leaving to go on patrol. Only when you absolutely have to.
God, you don’t even know if you can call this grief anymore. Seems as though you built a nest in the sorrow. Would it still be considered missing him if you desperately want to stop seeing his face whenever you close your eyes.
Fuck, don't say that. Never say that.
Promise I still love you, big brother. Promise I'd do anything to see you again.
Well, nobody really pays you any mind; you just sink into the shadows of the shitty little apartment you've been put in. And it doesn’t matter to you because the thought of getting close to people again makes you sick anyway.
Never wanna feel this pain. Never again. Fuck, just go away, please.
I'm so sorry, Soren.
You’ve waited it out for months but, at this point, you've given up hope. Feels like maybe it’s time to go be on your own. You know it’s dumb, but you haven’t got much to live for now that he’s gone.
Late night, you crawl into the comfort of misery, chaining yourself to each painful memory; you cannot leave a single shard behind. Not one.
You will carry this with you for the rest of your days.
Somewhere along the line, dark fades to light and your mind goes blank for the first time in an eternity as you get up to follow that same routine.
Today, same as yesterday, and yesterday's yesterday, and yesterday's yesterday's yesterday, etc., etc., your partner is Ellie.
Maria seems to think the two of you are acquaintances, especially since the extroverted people around your age hadn't been able to drag much more than a few words out of you, but you don’t really talk, you stay out of each other’s ways.
You struggle to keep the smile up against the pushback of your aching cheeks when you’re talking to other people. Can never let them see.
Not even for a good reason. God, it’s just such an effort to talk about. It’s better for it to just nestle in your mind, where it’s made it’s home, where it’s comfortable.
Maybe part of why you stay out of each other’s ways is because you'd inadvertently come off as a dick during your first encounter, which would've been enough to push the already closed off Ellie to not interact with you at all. You weren't actually being rude though; she's hopefully figured that out at this point. She probably just got used to the interactions between you; silence dusted with passive aggressive remarks.
But, she doesn’t say much when you freak the fuck out if a clicker comes at you in a way that brings back memories. You’re grateful, regardless of her reason for doing so.
Perhaps it's the thought of leaving that is the spur to prick your sudden violence and, now, even you can tell you're getting worse. The feeling - it ensnares you like a bear trap when you see a clicker, so you fire frantically at its head. Blood splatters all over your front and you pull at the hem of your shirt to get a better look, mumbling, "Shit..." when you see the white fabric soaked through with the clicker's blood; cold water to the face.
Among the chaos, you must have turned on your foot weirdly, because your ankle feels like a stake has been stabbed right through it with each movement and you don’t know if you can walk.
Ellie finally manages to trace the sound of the gunshot to you after calling your name in worry for the past couple of minutes, running over to you. She pulls you around and looks over your jittery body for anything to worry about - brushes a thumb over the wet material, jerking it away before you can notice; you’re hyper aware, so you always manage to anyway - and then furrows her brows at you.
“Can you stop fucking around?”
You nod apologetically,
"Sorry. Feeling a bit out of it today..."
She sighs, still clearly angry, and turns away, "Let's go. We’re done here.”
You watch her figure retreat as you mount your horse with shaky footing. The ride back is a silent one. Once you reach the gates, you get off and pat the horse’s side. It has a name; you never cared to learn it. Maybe you knew you couldn’t stick around for long.
“Come on. Why are you just standing there?"
When your eyes meet hers, you feel utterly pathetic, but you don't have much of a choice.
“Can you… find, like, a stick? A big one...”
She stays quiet for a moment, seemingly thrown off by your question, so you're quick to add,
“I would do it but... I don't know, fuck, never mind...”
Ellie raises an eyebrow at you, her line of sight flicking down to your ankle as she takes note of your awkward stance and mutters with a sigh that makes you feel small, "Pain in the ass," before shaking her head.
"Yeah, it looks pretty bad," Ellie says after she crouches down and touches the wound, eliciting a pained wince (and a farewell to your last shred of dignity) from you.
She rises to her feet and brushes herself off as you wait for more of a response.
"Stick, right? You want a stick?"
You nod with a clenched jaw. She keeps looking down at you and the constant anticipation is starting to piss you off.
"No, you gonna ask for what you really need?" she says. "And drop the whole ‘tough guy’ act?"
You chuckle dryly, turning your eyes to the floor.
"You ever considered that maybe I actually am just a tough guy?"
“Ha ha,” she states in monotone, “Think you gave away the fact that you're not when you started crying over a twisted ankle," to which you raise an eyebrow at her.
“Uh, okay, nothing you just said was true, but, sure. Sure.”
“Yeah? Come over here and say that with some heart then, tough guy.”
You manage to take a few steps before falling.
"Yeah, that’s what I thought. Gonna need to be carried back," Ellie says.
“What about the big ass stick?”
“What is i-Fuck. Listen, even if that helps, which it won’t, you’d wreck your ankle even more and everyone’d be on my ass about it. So, quit talking and get over here," she says, reaching over to lift you off the floor.
You grimace jokingly, but Ellie doesn’t pick on the humorous nature of your words, “Oh. No piggyback?”
Ellie sighs, turning and crouching in front of you before you get on.
"I swear to god, you're infuriating," she sneers. "Now put your arms around my neck."
You’re acting slightly outside the confines of your silent, gloomy self again, and pretend to strangle her, “Since you asked so nicely.”
And you laugh at your own joke as you properly wrap your arms around her neck
"I'm glad you're having a good time; at least one of us is enjoying ourselves,” she grits out but you can hear the repressed smile in her voice.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”
"Good. Now shut up and enjoy the ride." Ellie says before turning her gaze back to the front.
As the two of you make your way through the fairly empty paths of Jackson, Ellie remains silent, her expression unreadable.
You keep your eyes focused on her, the small puff of air that leaves her mouth with each step, and staying quiet as your chin finds itself resting casually upon her shoulder
After a few minutes of walking in silence, Ellie finally speaks up again. Her voice is so close, the warmth of her breath and heat.
“You got them girls off your ass yet?”
“Who? The ones that are trying to... befriend me?”
“Mhm, the ones that you’re kinda friends with.”
“Yeah, they quit trying.”
"Don’t blame you… I mean, I can understand, but don’t make it too obvious.”
“I’d rather not-“
“Right, it’s just- well, if you want to be alone, fine. I… can even… make sure those assholes don’t bother you, or whatever- but, not on patrol! Don’t go wandering around on your own like that ever again. It’s dumb."
“I know, I just got caught up in the moment. Sorry.”
"Good."
A heavy silence befalls the two of you as she trudges on.
"Why are you so damn heavy?" she eventually mutters.
You lift your head off her shoulder reflexively, aware of your weight pulling her down all of a sudden,
“Sorry.”
Ellie looks over her shoulder at you, her eyebrows knitted in unexpected concern,
“Hey… I was kidding.”
“Right… I knew that…”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever," she says. "Hm, look at that, we made it," gently patting your thigh before pushing the doors open. "Time to get off."
You slowly slide off her back, making sure to land on your good leg as you watch her search the area curiously in a waiting, one-footed stance.
She returns after a second, picking you up to place you on top of one of the quaint, makeshift hospital beds before she begins rummaging through the supplies. You watch her muscles flex and then, the sight of a woman you'd seen around captures your focus.
"What happened to her?" the woman asks, causing Ellie to lift her head, looking down at you.
"Twisted my ankle."
"Well, obviously," her tone is laced with sarcasm. "My question was how you twisted your ankle."
"Turned weird."
Your response earns you a bemused raise of her blonde eyebrows, "Alright, whatever," she says, pulling up a chair and sitting before you.
After a short, boring while, she lets go of your leg and looks up at you again,
"So, you got a sprain. I'm gonna have to wrap your ankle up, alright?"
A lock of her hair continuously pesters her as she begins carefully tending to your ankle, pulling fresh bandages taut around the injury.
"It's gonna stay sensitive for a few days," the woman states, "And you shouldn't walk on it for at least a week."
She places a hand upon Ellie's shoulder, pulling her out of the deep-end of her thoughts, and turning her away from you. A muffled, but aggressive, hushed conversation ensues between them as you glance around the room restlessly, only making out the irritated tone of Ellie's responses. It ends with her pinching her nose bridge and mumbling a, "Fine," and they're facing you again.
The woman gives the two of you a nod before exiting the room,
"You two be safe out there."
“Alright. I’ll take you home. Now, get on," she turns, arms out, backpack on her front, as she waits for you to get onto her back again.
The route to your place is short and quiet as night blankets the world, or what’s left of it. Before you know it, she's pushing open the door and setting you down on yet another tattered bed - your own.
You hiss at the contact your ankle makes with the bed, but Ellie seems unfazed, patting your thigh in the same way she did before, the way that made your stomach twist,
“You gonna be okay?”
You nod, though her deadpan tone doesn’t leave much room for the honest truth.
“Alright, well… I’ll get going, then.”
There’s a stark contrast in life between her coming and going; the constant rustling of the fabric of her coat and the sound of her heavy winter boots against your creaky floorboards, the sound of her sniffles and low voice, and the flurry of gusts of nippy winds whistling - all shut out with the cold of the outside once she closes the door behind her. Well, most of it.
Now, you’re left with the bite of cold air and the deafening silence that haunts you as you sit still upon your mattress with darkness cast over the room, seeming to melt everything together.
I LOVE THIS SM<33
TWEETS WITH ELLIE AND FRIENDS (modern smau)
content — swearing! ellie x reader, dina x jesse, ellie being a horny shit and down bad, jesse is not better, reader is unhinged and i see myself in her <3 requests are open and ignore mistakes plsplspls
PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———
ch.2
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Doors bound to frames, and patched up curtains drawn over locked windows with rusted bolts.
The silence has lingered in your room since Ellie left, trying desperately to seep out of any gaps, but you’d sealed them all tight, barricaded yourself in, chained your mind and body to the guilt.
A few days must have passed since then. Who knows? They've all melted into each other like you're constantly between the light of day and the dark of night behind those covered windows.
All you've done is lay and think. Nothing more. Appetite and sleep abandoned you, and you retreated into your consciousness, the dark place that started to feel less like fire and more like warmth.
If Soren saw you now - well, God, you can't bring yourself to even consider that.
People came by intermittently and, by people, only the nurse woman and Maria, both of whom were met with an oh so welcoming silence as you ignored their knocks.
Then returned the silence, which happened to be anything but silent for you - the echo of memories hitting the walls of your mind amplifying, screeching mercilessly and bursting your eardrums from the inside out.
The cracking reverberates the loudest - right as his skull made contact with the wall, sending his brains projecting across it. His eyes were bulging out of their sockets, piercing right through you.
His blood - your blood - insidiously crept it’s way into every corner, painting the walls around his deformed figure, dripping down into glistening crimson pools along the floor, spattering across your face, and absolutely drenching your hands in a way that wiped out any possibility of them ever being clean again.
The bat rattled against floor as you let it slip through your trembling fingers and then your mind went blank.
When you resurface, the thoughts still weigh heavy on your mind, and the malicious hiss,
“What have you done?!”
that usually follows morphs into a bloodcurdling cry, begging for your attention.
You can’t stay here. You cannot.
You are safe here, but you have no desire to be.
Alone and trapped in the memory of what happened that day, surrounded by people who only seem to make you feel even more alone in this dark room.
And you knew you had nothing to live for as soon as Soren was gone.
So, you’ll pack up and leave quietly when you can walk again-
BANG BANG BANG
The howling of the beginnings of a blizzard accompanies the sharp thuds against your door, shaking the frame. It almost scares you before you realise it’s just Maria or the nurse bringing food.
You sigh and pull the covers over your face, seeking relief from the harsh cold.
BANG BANG BANG
“HEY! IT’S ME! ELLIE! I KNOW YOU HAVE A CRUTCH! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!”
…
“HEY! THERE’S A FUCKING BLIZZARD AND I BROUGHT YOUR ASS FOOD! OPEN THE DOOR!”
BANG BANG-
The lock bursts off the door frame and projects across the room, letting the door fly open, in coming a gust of furious winds and snow, and a panicked string of curses from Ellie’s chapped lips as she rushes in and slams the door shut behind her.
You arose from the bed like a fucking vampire, probably resembling one too, and stared at Ellie who was leaning against the door, pushing out laboured breaths, with your jaw hanging open.
“Fuck, I can fix this- Damn- Shit, I just need… like… Fuck! Why’s this fucking lock so flimsy anyway?! And why the fuck didn’t you just open the door?!”
You ignore her rambling, “You broke my lock?”
“… Sorry.”
“Why are you here?”
She holds up a small stack of containers,
“You haven’t been opening the door so they sent me.”
“To break it open?”
“Hey, I said I was sorry, okay? I’ll fucking fix it… I just… need to check it out first…”
You sigh and let your head fall back against your pillow,
“Ellie, it’s almost midnight, and there’s a fucking blizzard outside. This couldn’t have waited till tomorrow?”
She walks towards where you’re laying and looks over you before setting the containers down on a nightstand.
“I know you haven’t eaten in days. People worry. Don’t be an asshole.”
“They’ll cope,” you grit out disdainfully, though it’s unwarranted, to which Ellie scoffs, seemingly losing her patience with your jarring change in character since she last saw you.
“You’re a fucking dick.”
“I’ll cope.
With a sigh and a shake of her head, Ellie glances around the shadowy corners of your decrepit room.
“Damn.”
“What?”
“Feels like I’m in a coffin, you got a candle or some shit?”
“Uh, I think there’s one on the desk. But I’m going to sleep anyway.”
“Looks like you’ve been sleeping for days. Want me to neaten this place up for ya? You’re not allowed to say no, by the way.”
“How about ‘not really?”
“Oh, you getting smart with me?”
“Fuck off.”
“In a minute.” She trudges around the room, kneeling stiffly to retrieve discarded trash littering the floor with little strained puffs.
For some reason, you’re annoyed that you can’t get back to the silence. You’re annoyed that she interrupted your thoughts so violently. Now she’s cleaning, trying to crack open a window to let out the stale air and smacking it down as soon as a flurry of snowflakes enters, and you’re sitting there, watching her, unable to get back into your head.
A giggle itches at your throat but you swallow it, glancing over her and the way the tip of her nose is tinged pink from the cold.
Cute.
“How are you gonna get home?”
“Uhh… Fuck. I don’t know, just close my eyes and run fast as I can.”
“Are you serious?”
“I mean, yeah, not much else I can do.”
“…You know, you can stay if you want to. Just for the night.”
“Yeah, I don’t know about want to, but I might stick around just to check up on your ankle, you know, do you a favour.”
“Pssh. In that case, you’re more than welcome to leave, dude.”
“No, I'll stay, since you practically begged me.”
“Mhm. That’s what I thought.”
A few moments later, the room is brighter, clearer, fresher, and Ellie forced you to eat under her beady-eyed, scrutinizing gaze. You shift your leg, staring down at the swell beneath the bandage as Ellie stands awkwardly at the foot of your bed, having stripped off a few outer layers.
You look over at her, not really sure what to do other than gather all your willpower to not stare at the way her nipples poke through the fabric adorning her.
Fucking cold in here.
You rub your eyes furiously, as though you want to push them back into your skull, and throw yourself back onto your pillow.
"Jesus. You trynna go blind or something?" she chuckles, a rasp laced in her voice.
"Shhhh. I'm sleeping."
"Oh yeah? You asleep?" You can hear the smirk in her voice and the floorboards creaking beneath her step as she closed in on you. You crack open an eye to give her a bemused look, even though her words made your insides turn.
"Yes."
"Uh-huh, right."
"Right."
"So... You got a sleeping bag or some shit?"
"Nope."
"Blankets?"
"No."
"Wha- I- So are you expecting me to just huddle up on the couch when it's, like, minus a bajillion degrees outside?!"
"I don't know..." You open your eyes and think. It's genuinely cold. There's a blizzard so she can't get home. There's no blankets. You know you're going to regret what you're about to propose, but you spit it out before nerves restrain you.
“You cool with sleeping on the bed?”
She scratches her neck, a torn expression on her face.
"I mean... Isn't that... You know?"
“No, I don't know. Look, it's not weird, just don't think freezing to death seems like an attractive option. Just for the night.”
She scoffs, more so out of shock than mockery, “Okay.”
“Yeah, just a suggestion but if you’re uncomfortable with that then I’ll-”
“No… Why would I be…? Plenty of room for us to share the bed."
“Yeah.”
After a few minutes of awkward shuffling around, Ellie pulls the covers back and settles on the outermost edge of the bed, almost rolling right off, with her back turned to you.
You're not much better, laying close to the other side of the bed, staring up at the ceiling with a body stiff as a plank of wood
"You... uh, you okay over there?" she asks hesitantly
A quick,
"I’m okay, thank you," rushes past your lips as you try to settle your heart rate. It's this time of night that the thoughts start flooding in. You know there's no point in bothering to try to sleep.
The covers rustle beside you as Ellie, courageous as ever, turns to face you, eyes raking over your figure curiously.
"Good... Just checking," she says softly, quietly, words coming out soft as cotton. Then she turns to face the ceiling and silence blankets the room.
After a few hours, your eyes are bloodshot and fixated on the same crack in the wall that they had been for a while now. The glass is starting to overflow, and you don't know that you'll be able to hold back the tears even just for one night.
You can only hope Ellie's asleep when the restrained sound of your sniffles tears through the heavy silence every now and then. Your chest tightens when you hear Ellie start to make some soft grumbling noises, her eyebrows furrowing as she turns back over to face you.
"Hey," she says, her hand hovering over your shoulder,
"Let me see that ankle for a sec."
You squeeze your eyes shut and groan, hoping she can't make out the slight quiver in your voice, "Why? Why can’t we just sleep?"
"Just... wanna see how bad the swelling is," Ellie mumbles, sounding annoyed.
"I know your dumb ass wouldn't tell me if it was hurting.
You sit up shakily, the darkness casting a shadow over your glistening eyes, and lift your leg to your chest. Ellie reaches a hand out and gingerly runs it over the bandages, tugging them away and feeling the area for swelling.
"See? It’s fine."
She gazes up at you, her eyes lingering for a moment before she nods.
"Yeah, looks okay, I guess," she sighs.
"Can't be sure with you... But, fine, whatever, go to sleep."
You rest your head back against the pillow with a sigh and close your eyes.
However, sometime later in the night, you feel Ellie nudging your already awake figure.
"Hey."
She's speaking very quietly, but there's something urgent in her voice. You rub your stinging eyes, somehow annoyed at her for pulling you out of your thoughts.
"What?"
"I need to check your ankle again."
"No, it feels fine, go back to sleep."
Ellie stays silent for a second before letting out a long sigh.
"Yeah, well, I'm checking it anyways," she says.
"Just roll over."
From her tone, you can tell that Ellie isn't asking this time, so you do as she says and show her your wound, though her eyes are yet again focused on your face for a little longer.
"Okay... It looks fine. Again."
Ellie shakes her head for a moment before lying back down. She watches you shuffle around before muttering,
"Damn it."
"What?"
"I... You know what? I can't sleep, so talk to me."
"You were just sleeping th-"
“Yeah, well, it’s gone, so talk to me,” she hissed, to which you rolled your teary eyes, trying to gain a few crumbs of composure before speaking.
“About what?”
“I don’t know. Anything. I mean, I don’t know anything about you.”
“That’s cuz there’s nothing to know,” you mumble. You know that’s not the truth.
“… Just… Look, what’s your favourite colour?”
You raise an eyebrow skeptically,
“Favourite colour? Are you serious?”
“Yes! Just answer the question, asshole.”
“Fine. It’s purple. It’s the most colourful colour.”
“Purple… Huh, didn’t expect that.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, you just don’t… I don’t know, you don’t exactly seem into colourful stuff. Kinda expected you to say black or something.”
You snort indignantly, turning your head to meet her heavy, mesmerising eyes.
“Says you… I would never.”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?! I’ll have you know that I, also, would never.”
An easy chuckle bubbles through you as you look up at the ceiling. Easy. Simple, all the things she said and the way the conversation slowly diffused into something more balanced, ridden of the initial obvious strain on Ellie’s part to get you to stop feeling whatever you were feeling when she saw your shoulders quiver in the moonlight.
Your head tilts to look at her for the first time after a while, skin dry of the tears that evaporated off your skin as you grinned, telling her the pun you claimed was better than hers and waiting for a response with a mind miraculously clear of the thoughts that polluted it up until a moment ago.
Ellie’s bottom lip is tugged between her teeth to hold back her own smile, though the creases beside her eyes give her away,
“Oh, was that supposed to be a joke?”
“Uh, yeah, it was. Don’t act like you didn’t find it funny! Not after how much you laughed at your shitty ones!”
She raised her eyebrows playfully, feigning a somber tone, “I don’t know, bu- OW! He- What the hell?!” as her face hit the pillow you launched at it. The sight of her face suddenly full of confusion draws a laugh from you - a real one. You hadn’t felt that familiar warmth for so long.
Caught up in the lightheartedness of the moment, you meet her gaze with a grin, holding up the pillow menacingly,
“Sorry, been wanting to do that for a while,”
Ellie grabs onto your wrists, a pure grin adorning her lips as she desperately attempts to fight your hands away from her through laughter and muttered “fuck”s. You give into her struggle with a groan and she pins the pillow and your hands back against the bed.
There’s a shift - both of you can feel it, neither of you expected it, as Ellie looms over you, loose auburn locks dangling close to your skin.
Your stomach turns. This is bad. This is wrong. This feels uncomfortably right.
Play it off, you tell yourself, unable to decipher the thought behind Ellie’s slightly furrowed brow, before you let out a laugh you hope sounded natural and playfully push her back onto the mattress.
Your heart is racing; you can feel the beat in your thighs which twitch every now and then, but you do a good job at hiding it, allowing the conversation to lull into that comforting silence like before, kindly putting you to sleep after hours of trying.
Those thoughts never stopped racing though, outrunning the thoughts of him…
a/n: boring ass chapter again, this is gonna be slow asf but it gets more eventful after this, i promise 😩 prolly some smut later too… creds to cafekitsune for dividers
PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———
ch.3 - 18+
cw: smut below the cut, mdni, cunnilingus LOOOOOOL, fingering, tribbing… but, like, some dirty talk 😥 idk ppl… idk… still got like three chapters left 🐺 proofread but not very well cuz i’m gonna fall asleep
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If you squint hard enough--
“Yep, it’s fixing up pretty nice, kid.”
-- you can just about make out the flecks of dust flickering in the influx of honeyed light through your windows.
“Not swollen anymore.”
And you can watch them flutter gently in mid-air, never quite meeting the ground.
You could watch them forever. Just sitting here, just like this, just like them, basking in the gentle warmth of the sunlight, the hazy sound of the nurse woman’s voice, suspended in the incessant grip of your pathetic melancholy.
“You should be fine to be back up on your feet now. Should try getting some fresh air soon.”
Her voice comes back into focus immediately.
There are stages to grief – so they say. But, to you, it feels more like a whirlpool of every emotion you’ve ever felt that you’ve been stuck in for what seems like forever, only growing in ferocity as time passes.
Been stuck in the same stage for a while. Been feeling like some external force has just been dragging your body to places day to day, not fully aware of what’s going on around you. And, as you said, soon as you can walk again, you’re out of here.
Are you even allowed to grieve a person you slaughtered?
“Yeah. Will do.”
That’s the signal. A week or so and you’ll be gone.
Do you have a plan? Do you need one? It’s not like you’re running away. You’re leaving – just, without telling anyone. You’ll just pack your shit and… go… where?
Roam?
It’s morning, the light that follows the storm-ridden, long, harsh hours of night, and the eery stillness of the snow blankets the earth now, though it was once pummelling towards the ground in malignant winds.
Ellie had woken up before you, and quickly ensured that wasn’t an issue by seemingly putting all her power into each step she took and object she lifted and aggressive sniffle or violent coughing.
What a pleasant way to wake up.
She quickly rushed off to the stables, thanking you for letting her stay the night, and once she was gone, you realised that there was an odd air of domesticity in your interactions now. You weren’t sure how to feel, so you sat in silence for a moment, until a knock interrupted your thoughts.
Without a lock to keep the pests out, the nurse woman quickly ended up inside your house, nagging you about your refusal to open the door as she looked at your ankle.
Everything happens for a reason, you suppose, since you came to the realisation that there was nothing binding you to this place any longer.
A few minutes pass, moments obscured by the depth at which you sank into your thoughts, and the nurse is helping you lull your trembling left leg into taking a step forward, when a harsh gust of icy wind envelops your skin. The door slams shut.
Ellie seems to be fond of making annoying entrances when it comes to you.
You inspect her movements curiously as she shakes the snow off her boots from over your shoulder, wondering why she’s back but not feeling even a sliver of disdain.
Eventually, she looks up to meet the pair of you’s eyes and clears her throat bringing her gloved hand to the nape of her neck to scratch.
“Hey,” she breathes out, to which you nod before carrying on with your miserable attempt at walking again, though you’re tentative to Ellie’s every movement from behind you.
The sound of that familiar creak tells you she’s sat down on your shitty mattress, and a small sniffle tells you… well, nothing.
You try to turn your focus back to the nurse woman whose eyes are trained on your leg, a smile gracing her lips when you make it back to the bed smoothly.
“There. You’re all set, kid, just keep it moving and you’ll be back to normal in no time. I’ll come check up on you in a day or two, alright? I’ll, uh… leave you two be, then.”
You hum half-heartedly, still slightly cotton-minded, watching her leave and the door close before you turn to look at Ellie looking back up at you.
“You’re back?”
With a mischievous smirk, she reveals a small jar from the side pocket of her threadbare backpack, stuffed with pure weed,
“Yeah. Thought you might want some of this.”
You take a seat beside Ellie, her eyes lingering on your every movement before you look up and meet her gaze.
“Where’d you even get that?”
“Hmm, I’ll show you next time we’re together on patrol. Here, take this.”
She hands you a blunt and you look over it cautiously, trying to mask your lack of experience and simultaneously ignore the blush of your cheeks induced by Ellie’s somehow sustained smirk.
She takes a lighter from her pocket and brings it to the tip as you hold it between your pursed lips, silently beckoning you to go ahead.
The warmth fills your chest; a pleasant wave of tingles overcomes you, like your insides turning to fuzz, and you let go, watching the smoke dance upwards and dissipate in the air separating you from Ellie.
You pass it to her, taking note of the way her lips wrap around the same place yours did moments before while your high already settles in.
Lightweight.
Maybe that’s why her eyes seem to pierce with excruciating intensity now. You look down instead and toy with the frayed end of your tattered jeans.
“You know what I realised?” she murmurs, taking another puff before continuing,
“You’ve been here for, what, half a year now?”
“Mhm.”
“That’s… actually kind of a long time. But you still act the same as you did when you first arrived.”
“Do I?”
Ellie breathes out and passes you the blunt, nodding. Your eyes don’t leave her lips.
“Yeah. Still… you know.”
“Yeah, well… I just don’t really get along with those people.”
“Those people?”
You look up and Ellie’s got a shit-eating grin plastered across her face as you jump to your own defence.
“Woooooooooo-”
“Wha- I- I didn’t mean it like that!”
“-ooooooooooo-”
Her voice is muffled by the contact of her face with the pillow you bombard her with.
“Ow! Fucking… Asshole.”
You chuckle, taking a long drag before muttering, your voice barely above a rasp,
“Bet you don’t like that, huh?”
The mattress shifts beside you as Ellie moves closer. You don’t look, but you can hear the playfulness in her words.
“Yeah, actually, I don’t.”
Silence overwhelms the room, the slow infiltration of hot smoke which now lays thick in the air rendering you too fuzzy to speak. Your fingers brush Ellie’s calloused ones as you pass her the blunt, dragging your dilated eyes to look into hers, still appearing somewhat sober.
“You dont mean that about me though, right?”
“Hm?”
“You know… The thing you said before. That you just don’t really get along with most of the people here. Cuz we get along pretty fucking well.”
Before you can hide it, you face breaks out into a grin,
“Why, would it really upset you if I meant you too?”
“Oh, fuck off.”
There’s a gentle buzzing in your chest that develops into wholehearted laughter before you realise it, contagious to Ellie, whose own lips give up trying to repress the smile playing on them now.
“I just mean… I know there’s not many people… as awesome and cool as me here, one could say, but-” she continues before you cut her off,
“-Butt-”
“-But, I don’t know, we’re kind of friends, right?”
“… One could say.”
“Right.”
“Right.”
Now, your heart’s racing and there’s a growing ache nestled between your legs, because the sight of Ellie’s own legs spread as she falls back to lean against the wall is not for the weak.
And you… You are weak.
“Unless you keep looking at me like that.” Her words rip through the warmth of the silence so you realise you had gone silent as you shamelessly stared.
“What?”
“You’re staring. Think you got a little something there too,” she leans in to wipe the imaginary drool at the corner of your lip but you sluggishly swat her hand away.
“Fuck off, I do not. And I am not.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Suddenly, the way her eyelids lay heavy over her forest green eyes, scleras tinged pink, becomes almost hypnotic, addictive.
“Yeah.”
So much so that you almost choke on your words.
“I think you are.”
Like you’re going to suffocate, unable to inhale steadily as she leans closer for the billionth time, clearly searching for the same relief you are, and her breath gently fans your lips.
“Think you’ve been staring for a while…
Think you want something real bad, huh?”
That pounding heartbeat, the shaking of your hands, this feeling is akin to fear. It’s almost terrifying how bad you want it, so you turn away and bring the blunt to your mouth again, forcing her to watch you breathe the hot air into her anticipating, flushed face. She closes her eyes, and then opens them, to see you looking right back with parted lips.
Finally, she places a gentle touch to your cheek, gracefully wrapping her other hand’s fingers around the weed in yours and flicking it into the nonexistent world surrounding you carelessly, closing the distance between the two of you once and for all.
There is a gentle sickness in the wetness with which your tongues dance against each other, and it is exhilarating in a way that makes you forget everything; in a way that makes the only thing echoing in your mind the intoxicating sound of lips smacking and Ellie’s deep groans into you, warm saliva coating the skin around your mouth.
For once, there is no reluctance in the intimacy you provide, and it has proven to be the most effective antidote to your problems yet.
Amid the rapacity, Ellie’s lips wonder further, engulfing the skin beyond, that which is your jaw, up to your flushed earlobes, and it’s so near, so tender, that it overwhelms your brain, heightening your high to unchartered altitudes. You can hear her every movement and every moan - feel it stronger than anything you’ve ever felt before, as her hands roam across the expanse of your body and settle on your tits before gently circling your nipples so that your hips buck into her shamelessly.
Ellie takes note of your sensitivity, half-lidded eyes looking into yours drunkenly as she makes her way to your chest, gliding her tongue around your raised nipple and gently pulling on the other. Your body is like a furnace, aching for her with ferocity. She knows; she burns just as bright.
Ellie’s hungry, desperate to taste you, to indulge in every drop of your flavour and savour it. So she’s sucking on your tit with such fervour, leaving a trail of spit as she wraps her lips around the other, that you find yourself pushed back against the pillows, yearning to just rip the fabric of the shirt that still rests at your collarbone right off of you.
Instead you lay still, letting the overcoming take you, and watch her with fascination, raking shaky fingers into her bound, auburn locks.
She moans into your skin at the touch and you can feel it in your pussy, the way it drips for her. Lucky for it, she makes her way down, one hand still groping desirously at your tit, the other ghosting over the waistband of your pants subconsciously. God, you need it, a thousand times over and then a million over again.
Ellie’s at your hipbone, infuriatingly close to where you need her, and you’re trembling with anticipation, squeezing your eyes shut.
“Fuck… take ‘em off…”
She smirks up at you dazedly, and you resist the urge to shove her head back into you,
“You want me?”
“Yes, fuck… Ellie, please.”
She hooks her fingers into your belt loops and pulls them down without further question, dragging your underwear down too, almost fast enough to not notice the wet spot in them.
Almost.
Her relishing the sight of the fat jiggling as her hand slaps your tit and you jerking forward juxtaposes the lazy kiss she presses to your swollen clit, hands moving to your thighs as she pulls you closer.
“You’re so fuckin’ hot.”
Gently sucking the bud into her plump lips pushes a breathy moan out of you in grateful relief and, as you grind against her tongue, she runs the tip of it teasingly up your weeping slit so that you’re reduced to a picturesque masterpiece of nothingness above her, with your head thrown back and your mouth hanging open, sweet whimpers trailing out, and your glistening chest displayed beautifully.
And the way you rut your cunt up against her, aching to feel her tongue deeper, aching to have her inside, makes her thrust against the pillow like a dog in heat for some semblance of relief, friction. You want to be the one to give it to her. Each husky groan pushes you further, the vibrations against your cunt sending you to heaven and back.
Ellie’s mouth is the fucking greatest, the swirl and suck a godsend to your clouded mind, with its focus streamlined to your pussy, so you moan deafeningly when two rough fingers slip into you and pump in and out of your viscous walls rapidly.
The sound of her slurping fills the room, and it is filthy, pornographic, but you’re moaning and twitching against her regardless, your pussy clenching tight for her, squeezing and pulling in her digits ravenously.
Soon, embarrassingly soon, your hips jerk, overwhelmed with delicious, warm ripples of pleasure throughout your body, and your eyes roll back as you tense and cum in her mouth for what seems like forever, but she holds you down, her lips and fingers never letting up.
Your sweaty figure is hunching over, stomach tensed and caving in, resisting the stimulation to your sensitive clit, with the hand laced through her hair now pushing her away despite the fact that you love it. Her eyes are closed and she’s wholly immersed in your essence and your whimpers, lapping at the slick pouring out of your pussy greedily with a gentle shake of her head between your quivering thighs.
A moan of your name and she’s up, humming in devious satisfaction, and giving your fucked out face a pussydrunk grin, your milky cum painting the lower half of her face so it glistens stunningly.
She shoves her fingers into your open mouth, muttering a quiet, “Fuck,” through laboured breaths as you suck on them, tasting yourself. Before she can go back in, pulling them away, you reach out to her desperately and smash her lips against yours again, pussy throbbing simply because she exists, as she lets out a small noise in shock but quickly moves in tune with you.
Between breaths, you help her take her clothes off, hugging her to your exposed chest, your heart pounding readily. There’s nothing you want more than to feel every inch of her on you completely, and the feeling of her hugging you back with just as much hunger makes you hot.
Slowly, you watch the string of slick connecting her pussy to her underwear dwindle as you pull them further down her legs, listening to the sound of her panting loud into your ear, and feeling her hair gently grazing your flushed cheeks.
Ellie pushes your left leg up and slots her cunt against yours so you can feel her hot skin moulding with yours, throwing her head back at the obscenity of the squelching noise it creates.
“Fuck, baby, it’s so wet, you’re so wet, all mine,”
“Ellie, oh my god.”
Slow movements turn into feverish humping, the sound of your wet cunts slapping each other reverberating and she leans over and places her forehead, wisps of hair stuck to it via droplets of sex sweat, against yours, breath fanning your lips. You strain to push yourself up for a second and peck her lips which she leans into quickly, like she’s been waiting for it.
You can feel your climax building up, intensified by the sight and all consuming sensation of her ramming into you, and the quiet whispers of,
“Fuck, love your pussy so much, gonna fuck you so good, mmmh, ‘s all mine, gonna fuck you senseless”
She keeps going, and you can feel everything so much clearer than you ever have before, each squelch and pull, panting into each other like you’re tempting each other to kiss each other again and she gives in, with the grip she has on your thigh concentrating.
It’s so graphic, so dirty and desperate, and you can’t help but give into the the feeling of the coil tightening in your stomach before snapping completely, your cum splattering over Ellie’s viscid thighs because she’s close and avid, eager to cum on you.
She can feel it building up as she grinds against you tenaciously, watching you writhe beneath her. Ellie moans gutturally , fingertips digging into your hips and the plush fat of your ass to hold you in place as she gets herself off,
“Fuckin’ take it, baby, know you can, gonna c-cum-”
“Yes, Ellie, oh my fucking-”
“-Fuck, gonna cum all over you, an’ you’re gonna fucking take it, yeah, mm-”
One last time and her hips are stuttering against yours before she collapses on you, chests rising and falling with heavy breaths into each other harmoniously.
The contact of your clammy skin against hers is comforting, and you lay there until the heat of sex settles and the potent scent of weed dissipates, and is replaced by the cold bite of the winter air that weasels its way into your room once more.
Until it starts to feel cold.
And then the fog clears and your mind spirals down from the passing high, opening the guilt’s floodgates. There is nothing you can do to calm the storm gathering in the confines of your rib cage; you clutch the sheets for stability.
Not even the gentle graze of her fingers up and down your arm can relax you, or the warmth of her sigh into the crook of your neck. Though you cannot understand it, there is panic and it is omnipotent.
Then Ellie’s movements halt abruptly and she jerks up from the bed,
“Fuck, oh my god, I completely forgot,” she jumps up, and you watch her get dressed in a flurry of fabrics, just as loud as the last time she got ready here.
You can’t focus; your chest feels tight and you’ve done something very, very bad but you don’t quite know what. Somehow, you manage to make out from what she tells you before rushing off and abandoning you in your resounding culpability, that there is a small get together at The Tipsy Bison tonight that she promised to help out with and that you are invited.
Lucky you!
She makes her way back to you on her way out, and you can tell she’s unsure how to approach you when you recall it, though in the moment your mind is swarming with wasps and you cannot form a coherent thought.
She pulls your shirt down over your tits and places a somewhat insecure kiss to your cheek, mumbling, “See you,” with a small smile, and then she’s on her way.
…
You sit up and stare at the floor in the silence, trying to swallow; the guilt, and the confusion. It’s painful to not understand, rummaging through the contents of your brain to make sense of that sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach, but for some reason you can’t find anything logical and, yet, you stop thinking you fucked up.
It hits you, and you throw your clenched fists over your eyes, rubbing furiously and desperately, the thought of you getting fucked like a dumbass while Soren lies dead miles away up north. You have no right.
It’s raw and visceral: your gasping for air and dry sobs, no tears coming up because you’ve been all cried out for a while. You just feel choked up, empty, and nauseous.
Still hyperventilating, you practically hurl yourself across the room to your bag, pathetically grabbing shit with shaky fingertips and shoving it in.
It’s time to go. Away from the people. Away from the noise. Away from the tumult. Away from any reminder of the joy you do not deserve.
an - this one’s long as fuck… i feel like i decay when i write smut, IVE BEEN AVOIDING STUDYING, DOING WORK, AND GETTING READY FOR A WEDDING BY WRITING THIS, creds to cafekitsune for dividers
tz reblog
PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———
ch.2
ch. 1
ch. 3
Doors bound to frames, and patched up curtains drawn over locked windows with rusted bolts.
The silence has lingered in your room since Ellie left, trying desperately to seep out of any gaps, but you’d sealed them all tight, barricaded yourself in, chained your mind and body to the guilt.
A few days must have passed since then. Who knows? They've all melted into each other like you're constantly between the light of day and the dark of night behind those covered windows.
All you've done is lay and think. Nothing more. Appetite and sleep abandoned you, and you retreated into your consciousness, the dark place that started to feel less like fire and more like warmth.
If Soren saw you now - well, God, you can't bring yourself to even consider that.
People came by intermittently and, by people, only the nurse woman and Maria, both of whom were met with an oh so welcoming silence as you ignored their knocks.
Then returned the silence, which happened to be anything but silent for you - the echo of memories hitting the walls of your mind amplifying, screeching mercilessly and bursting your eardrums from the inside out.
The cracking reverberates the loudest - right as his skull made contact with the wall, sending his brains projecting across it. His eyes were bulging out of their sockets, piercing right through you.
His blood - your blood - insidiously crept it’s way into every corner, painting the walls around his deformed figure, dripping down into glistening crimson pools along the floor, spattering across your face, and absolutely drenching your hands in a way that wiped out any possibility of them ever being clean again.
The bat rattled against floor as you let it slip through your trembling fingers and then your mind went blank.
When you resurface, the thoughts still weigh heavy on your mind, and the malicious hiss,
“What have you done?!”
that usually follows morphs into a bloodcurdling cry, begging for your attention.
You can’t stay here. You cannot.
You are safe here, but you have no desire to be.
Alone and trapped in the memory of what happened that day, surrounded by people who only seem to make you feel even more alone in this dark room.
And you knew you had nothing to live for as soon as Soren was gone.
So, you’ll pack up and leave quietly when you can walk again-
BANG BANG BANG
The howling of the beginnings of a blizzard accompanies the sharp thuds against your door, shaking the frame. It almost scares you before you realise it’s just Maria or the nurse bringing food.
You sigh and pull the covers over your face, seeking relief from the harsh cold.
BANG BANG BANG
“HEY! IT’S ME! ELLIE! I KNOW YOU HAVE A CRUTCH! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!”
…
“HEY! THERE’S A FUCKING BLIZZARD AND I BROUGHT YOUR ASS FOOD! OPEN THE DOOR!”
BANG BANG-
The lock bursts off the door frame and projects across the room, letting the door fly open, in coming a gust of furious winds and snow, and a panicked string of curses from Ellie’s chapped lips as she rushes in and slams the door shut behind her.
You arose from the bed like a fucking vampire, probably resembling one too, and stared at Ellie who was leaning against the door, pushing out laboured breaths, with your jaw hanging open.
“Fuck, I can fix this- Damn- Shit, I just need… like… Fuck! Why’s this fucking lock so flimsy anyway?! And why the fuck didn’t you just open the door?!”
You ignore her rambling, “You broke my lock?”
“… Sorry.”
“Why are you here?”
She holds up a small stack of containers,
“You haven’t been opening the door so they sent me.”
“To break it open?”
“Hey, I said I was sorry, okay? I’ll fucking fix it… I just… need to check it out first…”
You sigh and let your head fall back against your pillow,
“Ellie, it’s almost midnight, and there’s a fucking blizzard outside. This couldn’t have waited till tomorrow?”
She walks towards where you’re laying and looks over you before setting the containers down on a nightstand.
“I know you haven’t eaten in days. People worry. Don’t be an asshole.”
“They’ll cope,” you grit out disdainfully, though it’s unwarranted, to which Ellie scoffs, seemingly losing her patience with your jarring change in character since she last saw you.
“You’re a fucking dick.”
“I’ll cope.
With a sigh and a shake of her head, Ellie glances around the shadowy corners of your decrepit room.
“Damn.”
“What?”
“Feels like I’m in a coffin, you got a candle or some shit?”
“Uh, I think there’s one on the desk. But I’m going to sleep anyway.”
“Looks like you’ve been sleeping for days. Want me to neaten this place up for ya? You’re not allowed to say no, by the way.”
“How about ‘not really?”
“Oh, you getting smart with me?”
“Fuck off.”
“In a minute.” She trudges around the room, kneeling stiffly to retrieve discarded trash littering the floor with little strained puffs.
For some reason, you’re annoyed that you can’t get back to the silence. You’re annoyed that she interrupted your thoughts so violently. Now she’s cleaning, trying to crack open a window to let out the stale air and smacking it down as soon as a flurry of snowflakes enters, and you’re sitting there, watching her, unable to get back into your head.
A giggle itches at your throat but you swallow it, glancing over her and the way the tip of her nose is tinged pink from the cold.
Cute.
“How are you gonna get home?”
“Uhh… Fuck. I don’t know, just close my eyes and run fast as I can.”
“Are you serious?”
“I mean, yeah, not much else I can do.”
“…You know, you can stay if you want to. Just for the night.”
“Yeah, I don’t know about want to, but I might stick around just to check up on your ankle, you know, do you a favour.”
“Pssh. In that case, you’re more than welcome to leave, dude.”
“No, I'll stay, since you practically begged me.”
“Mhm. That’s what I thought.”
A few moments later, the room is brighter, clearer, fresher, and Ellie forced you to eat under her beady-eyed, scrutinizing gaze. You shift your leg, staring down at the swell beneath the bandage as Ellie stands awkwardly at the foot of your bed, having stripped off a few outer layers.
You look over at her, not really sure what to do other than gather all your willpower to not stare at the way her nipples poke through the fabric adorning her.
Fucking cold in here.
You rub your eyes furiously, as though you want to push them back into your skull, and throw yourself back onto your pillow.
"Jesus. You trynna go blind or something?" she chuckles, a rasp laced in her voice.
"Shhhh. I'm sleeping."
"Oh yeah? You asleep?" You can hear the smirk in her voice and the floorboards creaking beneath her step as she closed in on you. You crack open an eye to give her a bemused look, even though her words made your insides turn.
"Yes."
"Uh-huh, right."
"Right."
"So... You got a sleeping bag or some shit?"
"Nope."
"Blankets?"
"No."
"Wha- I- So are you expecting me to just huddle up on the couch when it's, like, minus a bajillion degrees outside?!"
"I don't know..." You open your eyes and think. It's genuinely cold. There's a blizzard so she can't get home. There's no blankets. You know you're going to regret what you're about to propose, but you spit it out before nerves restrain you.
“You cool with sleeping on the bed?”
She scratches her neck, a torn expression on her face.
"I mean... Isn't that... You know?"
“No, I don't know. Look, it's not weird, just don't think freezing to death seems like an attractive option. Just for the night.”
She scoffs, more so out of shock than mockery, “Okay.”
“Yeah, just a suggestion but if you’re uncomfortable with that then I’ll-”
“No… Why would I be…? Plenty of room for us to share the bed."
“Yeah.”
After a few minutes of awkward shuffling around, Ellie pulls the covers back and settles on the outermost edge of the bed, almost rolling right off, with her back turned to you.
You're not much better, laying close to the other side of the bed, staring up at the ceiling with a body stiff as a plank of wood
"You... uh, you okay over there?" she asks hesitantly
A quick,
"I’m okay, thank you," rushes past your lips as you try to settle your heart rate. It's this time of night that the thoughts start flooding in. You know there's no point in bothering to try to sleep.
The covers rustle beside you as Ellie, courageous as ever, turns to face you, eyes raking over your figure curiously.
"Good... Just checking," she says softly, quietly, words coming out soft as cotton. Then she turns to face the ceiling and silence blankets the room.
After a few hours, your eyes are bloodshot and fixated on the same crack in the wall that they had been for a while now. The glass is starting to overflow, and you don't know that you'll be able to hold back the tears even just for one night.
You can only hope Ellie's asleep when the restrained sound of your sniffles tears through the heavy silence every now and then. Your chest tightens when you hear Ellie start to make some soft grumbling noises, her eyebrows furrowing as she turns back over to face you.
"Hey," she says, her hand hovering over your shoulder,
"Let me see that ankle for a sec."
You squeeze your eyes shut and groan, hoping she can't make out the slight quiver in your voice, "Why? Why can’t we just sleep?"
"Just... wanna see how bad the swelling is," Ellie mumbles, sounding annoyed.
"I know your dumb ass wouldn't tell me if it was hurting.
You sit up shakily, the darkness casting a shadow over your glistening eyes, and lift your leg to your chest. Ellie reaches a hand out and gingerly runs it over the bandages, tugging them away and feeling the area for swelling.
"See? It’s fine."
She gazes up at you, her eyes lingering for a moment before she nods.
"Yeah, looks okay, I guess," she sighs.
"Can't be sure with you... But, fine, whatever, go to sleep."
You rest your head back against the pillow with a sigh and close your eyes.
However, sometime later in the night, you feel Ellie nudging your already awake figure.
"Hey."
She's speaking very quietly, but there's something urgent in her voice. You rub your stinging eyes, somehow annoyed at her for pulling you out of your thoughts.
"What?"
"I need to check your ankle again."
"No, it feels fine, go back to sleep."
Ellie stays silent for a second before letting out a long sigh.
"Yeah, well, I'm checking it anyways," she says.
"Just roll over."
From her tone, you can tell that Ellie isn't asking this time, so you do as she says and show her your wound, though her eyes are yet again focused on your face for a little longer.
"Okay... It looks fine. Again."
Ellie shakes her head for a moment before lying back down. She watches you shuffle around before muttering,
"Damn it."
"What?"
"I... You know what? I can't sleep, so talk to me."
"You were just sleeping th-"
“Yeah, well, it’s gone, so talk to me,” she hissed, to which you rolled your teary eyes, trying to gain a few crumbs of composure before speaking.
“About what?”
“I don’t know. Anything. I mean, I don’t know anything about you.”
“That’s cuz there’s nothing to know,” you mumble. You know that’s not the truth.
“… Just… Look, what’s your favourite colour?”
You raise an eyebrow skeptically,
“Favourite colour? Are you serious?”
“Yes! Just answer the question, asshole.”
“Fine. It’s purple. It’s the most colourful colour.”
“Purple… Huh, didn’t expect that.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, you just don’t… I don’t know, you don’t exactly seem into colourful stuff. Kinda expected you to say black or something.”
You snort indignantly, turning your head to meet her heavy, mesmerising eyes.
“Says you… I would never.”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?! I’ll have you know that I, also, would never.”
An easy chuckle bubbles through you as you look up at the ceiling. Easy. Simple, all the things she said and the way the conversation slowly diffused into something more balanced, ridden of the initial obvious strain on Ellie’s part to get you to stop feeling whatever you were feeling when she saw your shoulders quiver in the moonlight.
Your head tilts to look at her for the first time after a while, skin dry of the tears that evaporated off your skin as you grinned, telling her the pun you claimed was better than hers and waiting for a response with a mind miraculously clear of the thoughts that polluted it up until a moment ago.
Ellie’s bottom lip is tugged between her teeth to hold back her own smile, though the creases beside her eyes give her away,
“Oh, was that supposed to be a joke?”
“Uh, yeah, it was. Don’t act like you didn’t find it funny! Not after how much you laughed at your shitty ones!”
She raised her eyebrows playfully, feigning a somber tone, “I don’t know, bu- OW! He- What the hell?!” as her face hit the pillow you launched at it. The sight of her face suddenly full of confusion draws a laugh from you - a real one. You hadn’t felt that familiar warmth for so long.
Caught up in the lightheartedness of the moment, you meet her gaze with a grin, holding up the pillow menacingly,
“Sorry, been wanting to do that for a while,”
Ellie grabs onto your wrists, a pure grin adorning her lips as she desperately attempts to fight your hands away from her through laughter and muttered “fuck”s. You give into her struggle with a groan and she pins the pillow and your hands back against the bed.
There’s a shift - both of you can feel it, neither of you expected it, as Ellie looms over you, loose auburn locks dangling close to your skin.
Your stomach turns. This is bad. This is wrong. This feels uncomfortably right.
Play it off, you tell yourself, unable to decipher the thought behind Ellie’s slightly furrowed brow, before you let out a laugh you hope sounded natural and playfully push her back onto the mattress.
Your heart is racing; you can feel the beat in your thighs which twitch every now and then, but you do a good job at hiding it, allowing the conversation to lull into that comforting silence like before, kindly putting you to sleep after hours of trying.
Those thoughts never stopped racing though, outrunning the thoughts of him…
a/n: boring ass chapter again, this is gonna be slow asf but it gets more eventful after this, i promise 😩 prolly some smut later too… creds to cafekitsune for dividers
tz reblog 🌚
PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———
ch.3 - 18+
cw: smut below the cut, mdni, cunnilingus LOOOOOOL, fingering, tribbing… but, like, some dirty talk 😥 idk ppl… idk… still got like three chapters left 🐺 proofread but not very well cuz i’m gonna fall asleep
ch. 1
ch. 2
If you squint hard enough--
“Yep, it’s fixing up pretty nice, kid.”
-- you can just about make out the flecks of dust flickering in the influx of honeyed light through your windows.
“Not swollen anymore.”
And you can watch them flutter gently in mid-air, never quite meeting the ground.
You could watch them forever. Just sitting here, just like this, just like them, basking in the gentle warmth of the sunlight, the hazy sound of the nurse woman’s voice, suspended in the incessant grip of your pathetic melancholy.
“You should be fine to be back up on your feet now. Should try getting some fresh air soon.”
Her voice comes back into focus immediately.
There are stages to grief – so they say. But, to you, it feels more like a whirlpool of every emotion you’ve ever felt that you’ve been stuck in for what seems like forever, only growing in ferocity as time passes.
Been stuck in the same stage for a while. Been feeling like some external force has just been dragging your body to places day to day, not fully aware of what’s going on around you. And, as you said, soon as you can walk again, you’re out of here.
Are you even allowed to grieve a person you slaughtered?
“Yeah. Will do.”
That’s the signal. A week or so and you’ll be gone.
Do you have a plan? Do you need one? It’s not like you’re running away. You’re leaving – just, without telling anyone. You’ll just pack your shit and… go… where?
Roam?
It’s morning, the light that follows the storm-ridden, long, harsh hours of night, and the eery stillness of the snow blankets the earth now, though it was once pummelling towards the ground in malignant winds.
Ellie had woken up before you, and quickly ensured that wasn’t an issue by seemingly putting all her power into each step she took and object she lifted and aggressive sniffle or violent coughing.
What a pleasant way to wake up.
She quickly rushed off to the stables, thanking you for letting her stay the night, and once she was gone, you realised that there was an odd air of domesticity in your interactions now. You weren’t sure how to feel, so you sat in silence for a moment, until a knock interrupted your thoughts.
Without a lock to keep the pests out, the nurse woman quickly ended up inside your house, nagging you about your refusal to open the door as she looked at your ankle.
Everything happens for a reason, you suppose, since you came to the realisation that there was nothing binding you to this place any longer.
A few minutes pass, moments obscured by the depth at which you sank into your thoughts, and the nurse is helping you lull your trembling left leg into taking a step forward, when a harsh gust of icy wind envelops your skin. The door slams shut.
Ellie seems to be fond of making annoying entrances when it comes to you.
You inspect her movements curiously as she shakes the snow off her boots from over your shoulder, wondering why she’s back but not feeling even a sliver of disdain.
Eventually, she looks up to meet the pair of you’s eyes and clears her throat bringing her gloved hand to the nape of her neck to scratch.
“Hey,” she breathes out, to which you nod before carrying on with your miserable attempt at walking again, though you’re tentative to Ellie’s every movement from behind you.
The sound of that familiar creak tells you she’s sat down on your shitty mattress, and a small sniffle tells you… well, nothing.
You try to turn your focus back to the nurse woman whose eyes are trained on your leg, a smile gracing her lips when you make it back to the bed smoothly.
“There. You’re all set, kid, just keep it moving and you’ll be back to normal in no time. I’ll come check up on you in a day or two, alright? I’ll, uh… leave you two be, then.”
You hum half-heartedly, still slightly cotton-minded, watching her leave and the door close before you turn to look at Ellie looking back up at you.
“You’re back?”
With a mischievous smirk, she reveals a small jar from the side pocket of her threadbare backpack, stuffed with pure weed,
“Yeah. Thought you might want some of this.”
You take a seat beside Ellie, her eyes lingering on your every movement before you look up and meet her gaze.
“Where’d you even get that?”
“Hmm, I’ll show you next time we’re together on patrol. Here, take this.”
She hands you a blunt and you look over it cautiously, trying to mask your lack of experience and simultaneously ignore the blush of your cheeks induced by Ellie’s somehow sustained smirk.
She takes a lighter from her pocket and brings it to the tip as you hold it between your pursed lips, silently beckoning you to go ahead.
The warmth fills your chest; a pleasant wave of tingles overcomes you, like your insides turning to fuzz, and you let go, watching the smoke dance upwards and dissipate in the air separating you from Ellie.
You pass it to her, taking note of the way her lips wrap around the same place yours did moments before while your high already settles in.
Lightweight.
Maybe that’s why her eyes seem to pierce with excruciating intensity now. You look down instead and toy with the frayed end of your tattered jeans.
“You know what I realised?” she murmurs, taking another puff before continuing,
“You’ve been here for, what, half a year now?”
“Mhm.”
“That’s… actually kind of a long time. But you still act the same as you did when you first arrived.”
“Do I?”
Ellie breathes out and passes you the blunt, nodding. Your eyes don’t leave her lips.
“Yeah. Still… you know.”
“Yeah, well… I just don’t really get along with those people.”
“Those people?”
You look up and Ellie’s got a shit-eating grin plastered across her face as you jump to your own defence.
“Woooooooooo-”
“Wha- I- I didn’t mean it like that!”
“-ooooooooooo-”
Her voice is muffled by the contact of her face with the pillow you bombard her with.
“Ow! Fucking… Asshole.”
You chuckle, taking a long drag before muttering, your voice barely above a rasp,
“Bet you don’t like that, huh?”
The mattress shifts beside you as Ellie moves closer. You don’t look, but you can hear the playfulness in her words.
“Yeah, actually, I don’t.”
Silence overwhelms the room, the slow infiltration of hot smoke which now lays thick in the air rendering you too fuzzy to speak. Your fingers brush Ellie’s calloused ones as you pass her the blunt, dragging your dilated eyes to look into hers, still appearing somewhat sober.
“You dont mean that about me though, right?”
“Hm?”
“You know… The thing you said before. That you just don’t really get along with most of the people here. Cuz we get along pretty fucking well.”
Before you can hide it, you face breaks out into a grin,
“Why, would it really upset you if I meant you too?”
“Oh, fuck off.”
There’s a gentle buzzing in your chest that develops into wholehearted laughter before you realise it, contagious to Ellie, whose own lips give up trying to repress the smile playing on them now.
“I just mean… I know there’s not many people… as awesome and cool as me here, one could say, but-” she continues before you cut her off,
“-Butt-”
“-But, I don’t know, we’re kind of friends, right?”
“… One could say.”
“Right.”
“Right.”
Now, your heart’s racing and there’s a growing ache nestled between your legs, because the sight of Ellie’s own legs spread as she falls back to lean against the wall is not for the weak.
And you… You are weak.
“Unless you keep looking at me like that.” Her words rip through the warmth of the silence so you realise you had gone silent as you shamelessly stared.
“What?”
“You’re staring. Think you got a little something there too,” she leans in to wipe the imaginary drool at the corner of your lip but you sluggishly swat her hand away.
“Fuck off, I do not. And I am not.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Suddenly, the way her eyelids lay heavy over her forest green eyes, scleras tinged pink, becomes almost hypnotic, addictive.
“Yeah.”
So much so that you almost choke on your words.
“I think you are.”
Like you’re going to suffocate, unable to inhale steadily as she leans closer for the billionth time, clearly searching for the same relief you are, and her breath gently fans your lips.
“Think you’ve been staring for a while…
Think you want something real bad, huh?”
That pounding heartbeat, the shaking of your hands, this feeling is akin to fear. It’s almost terrifying how bad you want it, so you turn away and bring the blunt to your mouth again, forcing her to watch you breathe the hot air into her anticipating, flushed face. She closes her eyes, and then opens them, to see you looking right back with parted lips.
Finally, she places a gentle touch to your cheek, gracefully wrapping her other hand’s fingers around the weed in yours and flicking it into the nonexistent world surrounding you carelessly, closing the distance between the two of you once and for all.
There is a gentle sickness in the wetness with which your tongues dance against each other, and it is exhilarating in a way that makes you forget everything; in a way that makes the only thing echoing in your mind the intoxicating sound of lips smacking and Ellie’s deep groans into you, warm saliva coating the skin around your mouth.
For once, there is no reluctance in the intimacy you provide, and it has proven to be the most effective antidote to your problems yet.
Amid the rapacity, Ellie’s lips wonder further, engulfing the skin beyond, that which is your jaw, up to your flushed earlobes, and it’s so near, so tender, that it overwhelms your brain, heightening your high to unchartered altitudes. You can hear her every movement and every moan - feel it stronger than anything you’ve ever felt before, as her hands roam across the expanse of your body and settle on your tits before gently circling your nipples so that your hips buck into her shamelessly.
Ellie takes note of your sensitivity, half-lidded eyes looking into yours drunkenly as she makes her way to your chest, gliding her tongue around your raised nipple and gently pulling on the other. Your body is like a furnace, aching for her with ferocity. She knows; she burns just as bright.
Ellie’s hungry, desperate to taste you, to indulge in every drop of your flavour and savour it. So she’s sucking on your tit with such fervour, leaving a trail of spit as she wraps her lips around the other, that you find yourself pushed back against the pillows, yearning to just rip the fabric of the shirt that still rests at your collarbone right off of you.
Instead you lay still, letting the overcoming take you, and watch her with fascination, raking shaky fingers into her bound, auburn locks.
She moans into your skin at the touch and you can feel it in your pussy, the way it drips for her. Lucky for it, she makes her way down, one hand still groping desirously at your tit, the other ghosting over the waistband of your pants subconsciously. God, you need it, a thousand times over and then a million over again.
Ellie’s at your hipbone, infuriatingly close to where you need her, and you’re trembling with anticipation, squeezing your eyes shut.
“Fuck… take ‘em off…”
She smirks up at you dazedly, and you resist the urge to shove her head back into you,
“You want me?”
“Yes, fuck… Ellie, please.”
She hooks her fingers into your belt loops and pulls them down without further question, dragging your underwear down too, almost fast enough to not notice the wet spot in them.
Almost.
Her relishing the sight of the fat jiggling as her hand slaps your tit and you jerking forward juxtaposes the lazy kiss she presses to your swollen clit, hands moving to your thighs as she pulls you closer.
“You’re so fuckin’ hot.”
Gently sucking the bud into her plump lips pushes a breathy moan out of you in grateful relief and, as you grind against her tongue, she runs the tip of it teasingly up your weeping slit so that you’re reduced to a picturesque masterpiece of nothingness above her, with your head thrown back and your mouth hanging open, sweet whimpers trailing out, and your glistening chest displayed beautifully.
And the way you rut your cunt up against her, aching to feel her tongue deeper, aching to have her inside, makes her thrust against the pillow like a dog in heat for some semblance of relief, friction. You want to be the one to give it to her. Each husky groan pushes you further, the vibrations against your cunt sending you to heaven and back.
Ellie’s mouth is the fucking greatest, the swirl and suck a godsend to your clouded mind, with its focus streamlined to your pussy, so you moan deafeningly when two rough fingers slip into you and pump in and out of your viscous walls rapidly.
The sound of her slurping fills the room, and it is filthy, pornographic, but you’re moaning and twitching against her regardless, your pussy clenching tight for her, squeezing and pulling in her digits ravenously.
Soon, embarrassingly soon, your hips jerk, overwhelmed with delicious, warm ripples of pleasure throughout your body, and your eyes roll back as you tense and cum in her mouth for what seems like forever, but she holds you down, her lips and fingers never letting up.
Your sweaty figure is hunching over, stomach tensed and caving in, resisting the stimulation to your sensitive clit, with the hand laced through her hair now pushing her away despite the fact that you love it. Her eyes are closed and she’s wholly immersed in your essence and your whimpers, lapping at the slick pouring out of your pussy greedily with a gentle shake of her head between your quivering thighs.
A moan of your name and she’s up, humming in devious satisfaction, and giving your fucked out face a pussydrunk grin, your milky cum painting the lower half of her face so it glistens stunningly.
She shoves her fingers into your open mouth, muttering a quiet, “Fuck,” through laboured breaths as you suck on them, tasting yourself. Before she can go back in, pulling them away, you reach out to her desperately and smash her lips against yours again, pussy throbbing simply because she exists, as she lets out a small noise in shock but quickly moves in tune with you.
Between breaths, you help her take her clothes off, hugging her to your exposed chest, your heart pounding readily. There’s nothing you want more than to feel every inch of her on you completely, and the feeling of her hugging you back with just as much hunger makes you hot.
Slowly, you watch the string of slick connecting her pussy to her underwear dwindle as you pull them further down her legs, listening to the sound of her panting loud into your ear, and feeling her hair gently grazing your flushed cheeks.
Ellie pushes your left leg up and slots her cunt against yours so you can feel her hot skin moulding with yours, throwing her head back at the obscenity of the squelching noise it creates.
“Fuck, baby, it’s so wet, you’re so wet, all mine,”
“Ellie, oh my god.”
Slow movements turn into feverish humping, the sound of your wet cunts slapping each other reverberating and she leans over and places her forehead, wisps of hair stuck to it via droplets of sex sweat, against yours, breath fanning your lips. You strain to push yourself up for a second and peck her lips which she leans into quickly, like she’s been waiting for it.
You can feel your climax building up, intensified by the sight and all consuming sensation of her ramming into you, and the quiet whispers of,
“Fuck, love your pussy so much, gonna fuck you so good, mmmh, ‘s all mine, gonna fuck you senseless”
She keeps going, and you can feel everything so much clearer than you ever have before, each squelch and pull, panting into each other like you’re tempting each other to kiss each other again and she gives in, with the grip she has on your thigh concentrating.
It’s so graphic, so dirty and desperate, and you can’t help but give into the the feeling of the coil tightening in your stomach before snapping completely, your cum splattering over Ellie’s viscid thighs because she’s close and avid, eager to cum on you.
She can feel it building up as she grinds against you tenaciously, watching you writhe beneath her. Ellie moans gutturally , fingertips digging into your hips and the plush fat of your ass to hold you in place as she gets herself off,
“Fuckin’ take it, baby, know you can, gonna c-cum-”
“Yes, Ellie, oh my fucking-”
“-Fuck, gonna cum all over you, an’ you’re gonna fucking take it, yeah, mm-”
One last time and her hips are stuttering against yours before she collapses on you, chests rising and falling with heavy breaths into each other harmoniously.
The contact of your clammy skin against hers is comforting, and you lay there until the heat of sex settles and the potent scent of weed dissipates, and is replaced by the cold bite of the winter air that weasels its way into your room once more.
Until it starts to feel cold.
And then the fog clears and your mind spirals down from the passing high, opening the guilt’s floodgates. There is nothing you can do to calm the storm gathering in the confines of your rib cage; you clutch the sheets for stability.
Not even the gentle graze of her fingers up and down your arm can relax you, or the warmth of her sigh into the crook of your neck. Though you cannot understand it, there is panic and it is omnipotent.
Then Ellie’s movements halt abruptly and she jerks up from the bed,
“Fuck, oh my god, I completely forgot,” she jumps up, and you watch her get dressed in a flurry of fabrics, just as loud as the last time she got ready here.
You can’t focus; your chest feels tight and you’ve done something very, very bad but you don’t quite know what. Somehow, you manage to make out from what she tells you before rushing off and abandoning you in your resounding culpability, that there is a small get together at Joel’s tonight that she promised to help out with and that you are invited.
Lucky you!
She makes her way back to you on her way out, and you can tell she’s unsure how to approach you when you recall it, though in the moment your mind is swarming with wasps and you cannot form a coherent thought.
She pulls your shirt down over your tits and places a somewhat insecure kiss to your cheek, mumbling, “See you,” with a small smile, and then she’s on her way.
…
You sit up and stare at the floor in the silence, trying to swallow; the guilt, and the confusion. It’s painful to not understand, rummaging through the contents of your brain to make sense of that sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach, but for some reason you can’t find anything logical and, yet, you stop thinking you fucked up.
It hits you, and you throw your clenched fists over your eyes, rubbing furiously and desperately, the thought of you getting fucked like a dumbass while Soren lies dead miles away up north. You have no right.
It’s raw and visceral: your gasping for air and dry sobs, no tears coming up because you’ve been all cried out for a while. You just feel choked up, empty, and nauseous.
Still hyperventilating, you practically hurl yourself across the room to your bag, pathetically grabbing shit with shaky fingertips and shoving it in.
It’s time to go. Away from the people. Away from the noise. Away from the tumult. Away from any reminder of the joy you do not deserve.
an - this one’s long as fuck… i feel like i decay when i write smut, IVE BEEN AVOIDING STUDYING, DOING WORK, AND GETTING READY FOR A WEDDING BY WRITING THIS, creds to cafekitsune for dividers
PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———
ch.4
a/n - took ages cuz school is kicking my ass. somewhat sensitive content in terms of mental health but nothing that bad, nothing big really happens this chapter, creds to cafekitsune for dividers.
ch. 1
ch. 2
ch. 3
ch. 5
ch. 6
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Your body, mind and soul are pulsating, a nauseating wave of dread overcoming you with each heartbeat.
“Come on, just fucking do it!”
“I can’t! Shit!”
“Please! Fuck!”
“I can’t…”
“Bug… Listen to me… I know it’s cruel… But you have to do this-”
“No… No, I can’t, Soren. I can’t.”
“Please, Bug… Please… I’m so sorry…”
You can still close your eyes and picture the way back to the home you shared with him. It could be a million miles far out but you’d still find the way. You’ll go back soon, trace your fingertips over the walls you scrubbed clean - place fresh flowers where he lays, if you’re able to bring yourself to.
So, just breathe in, breathe out.
Clad in the rugged clothes you are now shakily fidgeting with the ends of, you walk through the open door and merge with the scattering of people across the bar’s floor.
First time going to one of these things.
Why did you come here? What, in god’s name, were you thinking?
It was supposed to be a farewell of sorts. A final look over the people of Jackson.
They are the ones you never felt compelled to get to know. The half-healed-wounds, cuts incessantly reopened by the fragments of all that was lost in the turmoil, beared deep within. None of you will ever stop carrying those shards with you, though they cut you up from the inside-out.
The one thing that keeps you all entwined, like the roots of an aspen tree, is love and loss, heart-wrenchingly deep. But these people were capable of letting themselves be free.
You do not want to forget. You do not want to stay here, where the edges become blunt with time and comfort; you’ve become a drunkard on the pain. To be without it leaves you with deafening guilt, and thoughts so dense that they consume your mind wholly, flooding out all else.
They buzz, faces livened by the gentle orange glow of the lighting. You watch from outside the harmony and stop your eyes when they discover, among the many clusters of people, three familiar faces.
Ellie, Dina and Jesse sat at a table on rusted foldable chairs, carrying glasses of alcohol and a rhythmic laughter. She looked undeniably breathtaking, Ellie.
Your recollection of her would present the least cracks. She is the one you spent the most time with, got to know the best - in more ways than one.
But she made your chest ache. You joked and giggled, but within the depths of the interludes, you felt the sinking dread that takes over when you let yourself forget the ache. And watching her from a distance, when she was so blissfully unaware of the effect she had on you, made you feel both empty and consumed with regret, because you should not be wasting your emotions and time on such an insignificant infatuation.
She could up and leave without a second thought only minutes after making you breathless. She gently lifted you out of your thoughts and then plunged you back into their murky waters like it was nothing.
You can sit there and pretend your eyes don’t sting as you chew at the flesh of your bottom lip, but they’re bloodshot, and you’re blinking erratically.
Fuck it. Might as well go over, right? It’s not like you’re gonna get the chance to again.
So, with hesitant steps, you exit the comfort of the shadowy corner and venture out into the open, making your way through the labyrinth of bodies to get to Ellie. Her face gradually comes into focus and you notice the endearing pink tinge in the freckle-spattered apples of her cheeks as she grins. She's tipsy. Maybe that will make this easier to push through.
Shaky hands - you focus on seizing back control over them before tapping her shoulder gently. And maybe it's the sentiment of this being your final goodbye, but the warmth that radiates through her hoodie, the soft wisps of baby hairs at the base of her neck, and the dazed look in her eyes when they meet yours, woven with fine forest green threads and dilated pupils, all make your stomach churn with longing.
"Hey," her voice is barely above a whisper against the deep sound of Jesse's laughter, gentle and inviting.
"Hey."
She pulls a chair closer and nods to it, so you sit quietly, pretending to ignore the glances Ellie sends your way. She clears her throat.
"Uh... Sorry, I left in such a hurry. I mean, I would've, you know, stayed, but- if that's what you would've wanted-"
"It's good. You're good."
God, her obvious nervousness gives you some sick sort of satisfaction.
Her lips part, and you know she wants to ask you something more, but the words die in her throat and she turns to face her laughing friends with a scratch of her neck.
“Would you have… Fuck, never mind,” she mutters, leaning forward, avoiding your gaze, but it’s okay because you’re avoiding hers too.
You hesitate, “… Wanted you to stay?”
And she finally looks at you, the quiet between you hanging heavy. She’s desperately trying to gauge your reaction.
“… Yeah… Would you?”
“… Sure.”
You wish you could talk to her about it, but talking about it is so fucking tiring - with no idea where to start or where to stop, and so much you know you’ll regret saying to the point of nausea.
She nods, a small smile playing on her lips, and you can tell she's trying to feign thoughtfulness despite her clouded mind finally being offered relief. That's a definite green light.
Between the lulls in conversation and bouts of laughter, a whole other world of unspoken affection builds between the two of you. Ellie's hand finds the hem of your sleeve and fidgets with it, fingertips grazing your skin too often to be dismissed as accidental before she eventually gives in and interlocks your fingers with hers.
Your stomach feels warm and your heart feels full, digging up the confidence to trace small, gentle circles into the roughened skin of her hand with your thumb. Maybe the blush that's deepening behind the mottle of freckles shows that the genuineness of this made it's way through your touch and to her.
You're going to miss her; you cannot deny that.
And, god, you wish that you could stay stagnant in this moment forever, but conversations drag on and the clock ticks tirelessly.
The thought of becoming attached to anyone again claws cruelly at your skull; it skews up your insides and churns up the acid in your stomach.
The thought of getting too close is terrifying; you can’t risk it, you cannot bear the loss. Never wanna go through it again. Never wanna feel this pain.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Soren.”
“I don’t- I can’t turn into them, Bug, please… Please don’t let me…”
You’re already panicking.
Staggered, you rise to your feet, and Ellie's widened, bewildered eyes shoot to yours when you rip your hand out of her hold. Maybe they remain on you as you rush haphazardly out of Joel's place and back to yours, but you'll never know because you don't spare her a glance over your shoulder.
Ellie’s nails are jagged and short, the skin behind them red and angry. It hurts, but she keeps biting, trying desperately to exert some of her fear.
She hopes others don’t notice her change in demeanour following your sudden departure, since even that went unnoticed amidst the festivities of the evening, and judging by the slack-jawed, barely-present faces surrounding her, she had no reason to fret.
The look on your face was deeper than discomfort, beyond the realm of any possible effects of her touch. It was pained. It was worrisome.
So worrisome, that she’s still sat in the same spot half an hour later, hunched over and chewing up her non-existent nails, in deep concentration. Maybe you felt overwhelmed. Maybe she was coming on too strong.
And she can’t bear it. So, she gets up almost as abruptly as you did and pats her jacket pockets in search of apology weed, in case she pushed a boundary earlier (it will make a piece of her die, but she’ll suggest staying friends), before she makes her way out in spite of the slurred sound of her friends calling out to her.
Ellie powers through the harsh cruelty of Jackson’s winter to get to your dingy little home. The sight of her warm breath whirling as it wafted up from her lips looks like a ribbon dance, but her mind is racing so intensely that she can’t admire it.
Eventually, she arrives at your doorstep. It’s always an unnerving sight - not a single sign of life escapes your home; from outside, it looks abandoned. Even more so than usual.
Three timid knocks to reflect her hesitation, and on the last thump, the door swings open upon contact with her knuckles.
Fuck. Still gotta fix that lock, huh.
The room is pooled with darkness that is tinged blue by the moon’s glow seeping in. But even amid the darkness, Ellie’s heart has dropped to the pit out of her stomach, because she can tell it’s sparse; all the trinkets and belongings once scattered around are replaced by designs imitating their shapes within the fine layer of dust clinging to each surface. It’s clean, too clean, and most of all, you aren’t here.
You are not here.
“Hey!”
She steps in, eyes darting around the room, hoping desperately to find you laying somewhere.
“I brought weed!”
An eternal whirring interlaces with the silence; the quiet rhythmic hum of your absence, and it’s jarring.
Then, she notices it, sitting crumpled, corner beneath the base of a book, upon your desk. A rough sheet of paper.
“ To whoever finds this,
sorry bout Star? Joey
Blossom Shimmer? the horse. ”
Fuck. You left Jackson.
And you still don’t know any of the damn horse’s names.
tz reblog
PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———
ch.4
a/n - took ages cuz school is kicking my ass. somewhat sensitive content in terms of mental health but nothing that bad, nothing big really happens this chapter, creds to cafekitsune for dividers.
ch. 1
ch. 2
ch. 3
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Your body, mind and soul are pulsating, a nauseating wave of dread overcoming you with each heartbeat.
“Come on, just fucking do it!”
“I can’t! Shit!”
“Please! Fuck!”
“I can’t…”
“Bug… Listen to me… I know it’s cruel… But you have to do this-”
“No… No, I can’t, Soren. I can’t.”
“Please, Bug… Please… I’m so sorry…”
You can still close your eyes and picture the way back to the home you shared with him. It could be a million miles far out but you’d still find the way. You’ll go back soon, trace your fingertips over the walls you scrubbed clean - place fresh flowers where he lays, if you’re able to bring yourself to.
So, just breathe in, breathe out.
Clad in the rugged clothes you are now shakily fidgeting with the ends of, you walk through the open door and merge with the scattering of people across the bar’s floor.
First time going to one of these things.
Why did you come here? What, in god’s name, were you thinking?
It was supposed to be a farewell of sorts. A final look over the people of Jackson.
They are the ones you never felt compelled to get to know. The half-healed-wounds, cuts incessantly reopened by the fragments of all that was lost in the turmoil, beared deep within. None of you will ever stop carrying those shards with you, though they cut you up from the inside-out.
The one thing that keeps you all entwined, like the roots of an aspen tree, is love and loss, heart-wrenchingly deep. But these people were capable of letting themselves be free.
You do not want to forget. You do not want to stay here, where the edges become blunt with time and comfort; you’ve become a drunkard on the pain. To be without it leaves you with deafening guilt, and thoughts so dense that they consume your mind wholly, flooding out all else.
They buzz, faces livened by the gentle orange glow of the lighting. You watch from outside the harmony and stop your eyes when they discover, among the many clusters of people, three familiar faces.
Ellie, Dina and Jesse sat at a table on rusted foldable chairs, carrying glasses of alcohol and a rhythmic laughter. She looked undeniably breathtaking, Ellie.
Your recollection of her would present the least cracks. She is the one you spent the most time with, got to know the best - in more ways than one.
But she made your chest ache. You joked and giggled, but within the depths of the interludes, you felt the sinking dread that takes over when you let yourself forget the ache. And watching her from a distance, when she was so blissfully unaware of the effect she had on you, made you feel both empty and consumed with regret, because you should not be wasting your emotions and time on such an insignificant infatuation.
She could up and leave without a second thought only minutes after making you breathless. She gently lifted you out of your thoughts and then plunged you back into their murky waters like it was nothing.
You can sit there and pretend your eyes don’t sting as you chew at the flesh of your bottom lip, but they’re bloodshot, and you’re blinking erratically.
Fuck it. Might as well go over, right? It’s not like you’re gonna get the chance to again.
So, with hesitant steps, you exit the comfort of the shadowy corner and venture out into the open, making your way through the labyrinth of bodies to get to Ellie. Her face gradually comes into focus and you notice the endearing pink tinge in the freckle-spattered apples of her cheeks as she grins. She's tipsy. Maybe that will make this easier to push through.
Shaky hands - you focus on seizing back control over them before tapping her shoulder gently. And maybe it's the sentiment of this being your final goodbye, but the warmth that radiates through her hoodie, the soft wisps of baby hairs at the base of her neck, and the dazed look in her eyes when they meet yours, woven with fine forest green threads and dilated pupils, all make your stomach churn with longing.
"Hey," her voice is barely above a whisper against the deep sound of Jesse's laughter, gentle and inviting.
"Hey."
She pulls a chair closer and nods to it, so you sit quietly, pretending to ignore the glances Ellie sends your way. She clears her throat.
"Uh... Sorry, I left in such a hurry. I mean, I would've, you know, stayed, but- if that's what you would've wanted-"
"It's good. You're good."
God, her obvious nervousness gives you some sick sort of satisfaction.
Her lips part, and you know she wants to ask you something more, but the words die in her throat and she turns to face her laughing friends with a scratch of her neck.
“Would you have… Fuck, never mind,” she mutters, leaning forward, avoiding your gaze, but it’s okay because you’re avoiding hers too.
You hesitate, “… Wanted you to stay?”
And she finally looks at you, the quiet between you hanging heavy. She’s desperately trying to gauge your reaction.
“… Yeah… Would you?”
“… Sure.”
You wish you could talk to her about it, but talking about it is so fucking tiring - with no idea where to start or where to stop, and so much you know you’ll regret saying to the point of nausea.
She nods, a small smile playing on her lips, and you can tell she's trying to feign thoughtfulness despite her clouded mind finally being offered relief. That's a definite green light.
Between the lulls in conversation and bouts of laughter, a whole other world of unspoken affection builds between the two of you. Ellie's hand finds the hem of your sleeve and fidgets with it, fingertips grazing your skin too often to be dismissed as accidental before she eventually gives in and interlocks your fingers with hers.
Your stomach feels warm and your heart feels full, digging up the confidence to trace small, gentle circles into the roughened skin of her hand with your thumb. Maybe the blush that's deepening behind the mottle of freckles shows that the genuineness of this made it's way through your touch and to her.
You're going to miss her; you cannot deny that.
And, god, you wish that you could stay stagnant in this moment forever, but conversations drag on and the clock ticks tirelessly.
The thought of becoming attached to anyone again claws cruelly at your skull; it skews up your insides and churns up the acid in your stomach.
The thought of getting too close is terrifying; you can’t risk it, you cannot bear the loss. Never wanna go through it again. Never wanna feel this pain.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Soren.”
“I don’t- I can’t turn into them, Bug, please… Please don’t let me…”
You’re already panicking.
Staggered, you rise to your feet, and Ellie's widened, bewildered eyes shoot to yours when you rip your hand out of her hold. Maybe they remain on you as you rush haphazardly out of Joel's place and back to yours, but you'll never know because you don't spare her a glance over your shoulder.
Ellie’s nails are jagged and short, the skin behind them red and angry. It hurts, but she keeps biting, trying desperately to exert some of her fear.
She hopes others don’t notice her change in demeanour following your sudden departure, since even that went unnoticed amidst the festivities of the evening, and judging by the slack-jawed, barely-present faces surrounding her, she had no reason to fret.
The look on your face was deeper than discomfort, beyond the realm of any possible effects of her touch. It was pained. It was worrisome.
So worrisome, that she’s still sat in the same spot half an hour later, hunched over and chewing up her non-existent nails, in deep concentration. Maybe you felt overwhelmed. Maybe she was coming on too strong.
And she can’t bear it. So, she gets up almost as abruptly as you did and pats her jacket pockets in search of apology weed, in case she pushed a boundary earlier (it will make a piece of her die, but she’ll suggest staying friends), before she makes her way out in spite of the slurred sound of her friends calling out to her.
Ellie powers through the harsh cruelty of Jackson’s winter to get to your dingy little home. The sight of her warm breath whirling as it wafted up from her lips looks like a ribbon dance, but her mind is racing so intensely that she can’t admire it.
Eventually, she arrives at your doorstep. It’s always an unnerving sight - not a single sign of life escapes your home; from outside, it looks abandoned. Even more so than usual.
Three timid knocks to reflect her hesitation, and on the last thump, the door swings open upon contact with her knuckles.
Fuck. Still gotta fix that lock, huh.
The room is pooled with darkness that is tinged blue by the moon’s glow seeping in. But even amid the darkness, Ellie’s heart has dropped to the pit out of her stomach, because she can tell it’s sparse; all the trinkets and belongings once scattered around are replaced by designs imitating their shapes within the fine layer of dust clinging to each surface. It’s clean, too clean, and most of all, you aren’t here.
You are not here.
“Hey!”
She steps in, eyes darting around the room, hoping desperately to find you laying somewhere.
“I brought weed!”
An eternal whirring interlaces with the silence; the quiet rhythmic hum of your absence, and it’s jarring.
Then, she notices it, sitting crumpled, corner beneath the base of a book, upon your desk. A rough sheet of paper.
“ To whoever finds this,
sorry bout Star? Joey
Blossom Shimmer? the horse. ”
Fuck. You left Jackson.
And you still don’t know any of the damn horse’s names.
PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———
ch. 5
ch. 1
ch. 2
ch. 3
ch. 4
ch. 6
a/n: 😪 banners by cafekitsune and saradika-graphics
Snow still lays thick upon the soil once you’re gone. Along its boundless surface, specks of silver glisten, basking in the gentle glow of the moon, smothering the town’s bustle.
“You sure?”
The wind is cruel, lashing auburn locks erratically about Ellie’s face, numbed by the frigidity. In spite of the burning cold overtaking her limbs, her grip on the straps of the saddle tightens and her eye contact with Tommy turns ever so slightly hostile,
"Tommy, it’s been less than a day. She can’t be far. You comin’ or not? ‘Cause I’m doing this with or without you.”
He looks back at her wordlessly with a furrow in his brow, piercing through the tense silence laced with the distant bustle of Jackson,
“Alright… Let’s set off quick then.”
“Okay.”
Something compels her to silence, an impulse to keep her lips sealed over restless secrets. Maybe she knows that going after you is illogical, that it was a choice you made on your own. But she can’t bring herself to indulge in those realisations – all she knows is that she has to find you; there is no hesitation. Thankfully, the urgency in her tone was explanation enough for Tommy.
With a rushed onset, they split up to cover more ground, venturing onwards into the overrun territory encompassing Jackson with eyes vigilant, searching for signs of you, but seconds turn to minutes, and minutes turn to hours of vacillating between trot and gallop, losing sense of direction and fragments of determination to the exhaustion that mutinies her mind.
Thank god the hoofprints come into view when they do - as if by magic or a blessing, the impressed snow shows itself clear as day, juxtaposing the sea of white bordering it, darkened by dirt and grime. Ellie perks up with desperate intrigue so she pulls the reins and crouches down beside them, muttering to herself,
“Huh, what do we have here?”
And then her heartbeat quickens in anticipation of relief,
“She's close.”
Verily, she follows, the tracks guiding her further into the dense vegetation with senses working overtime to accommodate the fact that it is winter and hordes are rampant. She fucking prays you didn’t run into one, but the forest is deafeningly silent, seeming to hold its breath tonight.
She’s fast on your track; in this moment, the path is hope, a lifeline steering her along. Every now and then, a rustle of leaves, or the distant echoes of infected throw her mind into disarray, but she scans the area rapidly, shaky grip tightening on her firearm, before pushing on.
Just under an hour, the prints become faded and scattered, and the apprehension makes her stomach twist before she lifts her head to greet the destination - a desolate clearing.
“Fuck me.”
Dim moonlight hangs over Ellie and Tommy’s exhausted figures. The night has been relentless. The trail resulted in nothing more than wasted time and the discovery of a empty clearing, devoid of any sign of you.
Frustration and fatigue etched on her face and lingering in the air around her, Ellie kicks at a loose stone on the ground like a little kid, the full regret of having set off hurriedly with no real plan or navigation overcoming her. They’ve gotten nowhere.
In a see-through attempt at remaining pragmatic, Tommy pats her shoulder and states with a tone of reassurance, though it’s betrayed by the wearied rasp in his voice,
"We'll figure it out, Ellie. We just need to rest for a bit and rethink our strategy. She couldn't have gotten far."
But Ellie's resolve is fixed and her jaw is set in determination. It’s too late to turn back now, she knows that.
"I can't rest, Tommy. Every minute wasted is another minute she's further."
He sighs heavily with complete sincerity, running a hand through his unkempt hair.
"Ellie, she’s probably asleep right now, or some shit. And pushing yourself like this won't help anyone."
Their intermingling voices rise, threaded with increasing aggression until the tension has thickened beyond salvaging, and the rift between their convictions seems insurmountable in the darkness of the night.
Finally, unable to find common ground, Ellie announces,
"I'm not waiting. I'm going to keep searching. You wanna go back? Fine."
And, without waiting for a response, she takes off, leaving her horse and Tommy, who mutters quiet cusses into the heavy stillness of the night. She moves with purpose, the flashlight attached to her backpack tearing through the darkness.
She refuses to let the ache in her feet claim her; every step she takes echoes the silent plea for you to be found. Even as the hours wear on, Ellie's determination refuses to wane in spite of the fatigue gnawing at her bones. She can’t let herself think, she can’t let herself dwell, she has to keep searching, even if she can’t tell herself why.
However, the moon, as always, gives surrender to the encroaching dawn. Ellie's flickering hope of finding you dims as her steps grow heavier and her eyes wearier, and the first light of sunrise bleeds into the sky from the horizon.
Eventually, shattered and running on sheer god-like willpower, Ellie stumbles upon a vantage point, and stands over the landscape, large enough to swallow her whole millions of times over, like she’s the last person on Earth, staring into the face of impending destruction.
But it’s just dawn, and the overcast warm glow showers upon her as the realization that she has been searching through the night hits her. The screeching thought of you inevitably having gotten hurt plagues her mind. Deep breath, in and out, she lets the weight of it all settle upon her weakened shoulders, yet there’s still no time for rest.
The search is far from over.
You strain your neck to squint up at the skeletal structure that has born the brutality of the post-apocalyptic world, barely making out the details past the overgrown foliage seeping out of its broken windows and destroyed walls.
You enter with caution and heightened senses, searching for any signs of danger. The creaking floorboards beneath your feet shatter the palpable silence in the damp air.
Shifting through the shadows, your senses remain sharp and attuned to the slightest noise, scanning the objects illuminated by the dim light of dawn filtering through the cracks in the abandoned building. Shadows loom outstretched along the corridors.
In a shadowy corner, a man is crouched over a bag, and you watch him with a racing heart before you emerge, your silhouette a silent spectre against the dilapidated walls.
Your eyes meet for a fleeting moment before you both jump into action instinctively, but you swiftly disarm him. The struggle is brief but intense, and he is overpowered, because, if there’s one thing fear has taught you, it’s that each movement has to be calculated and purposeful.
And when he’s on his knees, trying to plead for mercy, when he’s scraping pathetically at the scruples of humanity left in your soul, you remain resolute - just don’t think. Your grip is firm as you subdue him.
A few blows leave him incapacitated, and you leave it at that because you have never been able to succumb to gratuitous violence. He lets out a muffled groan with his cheek pressed against the cold stone floor.
Swiftly, you bind is wrists and ankles taut, ensuring he can’t pose a threat before confiscating his meagre supplies and rifling through them. Food, water, anything that could sustain you on the journey ahead, you take, and then you drop his bag my his side and arise.
You turn to leave, but you glance back at the man over your shoulder, meeting his eyes with a solemn expression. You haven’t done this in a while, not since you arrived at Jackson, and your penchant for showing no mercy has been buffed down.
There’s so much you have to beg your mind to steer itself away from, beg it to not to linger on the helplessness in his eyes as he looks back at you, or how you would’ve slit his throat without a doubt when it was just you and Soren.
With the stolen supplies secured, you walk through the entrance. You have to convince yourself of one last thing.
Mercy takes on different forms.
Out into the muted light of dawn, the air is brisk, and the horizon enlightening drags the worry of not making it out of the treacherous night you endured off your shoulders. A new day. A momentary respite washes over you; you’re only a little scathed.
With the first light of dawn illuminating your path,
“Only an hour or two away …”
It is a small victory in the grand scheme of things, but it’s enough for someone with your past.
Mounting her horse, the familiar weight of the saddle grounds you as you set off once more into the unknown. The rhythmic, muffled thump of hooves against the snow-blanketed floor, and the shadow of the horse and rider stretched long over the ruins, a lone traveller navigating the remnants of a world.
You ride on, your mind numb to the thought of returning to Soren. Back to the old house, to the doorstep where your heart lies dormant.
Crestfallen, the fruitless landscape stands before Ellie, as if to mock her hunched over figure, bathed in the warm hues of the noontime sun. She has been traversing since the wee hours of the morning after stopping momentarily to map out a journey in her relentless pursuit of you, trying to stay determined, but the urgency that keeps her moving forward is dulled by the incessant pangs of hunger and the desperate struggle to keep her eyes open. Doubt creeps in as the vast emptiness erodes her resolution.
Just as thoughts of turning back infiltrate her sleep-deprived mind, a faint sound carries along a whistling gust of wind, drawing her fading attention. Pained noises, barely audible, leave her instantly alert, and Ellie follows the source of the sound with a subtle limp in her step. Though her senses are sharpened by the urgency of the situation, everything still seems blurrier and muffled.
Guided by the haunting echoes, she carefully weaves her way through the silent surroundings, every step weighted with anticipation, into a derelict building.
She approaches cautiously, entering a room where the sound is amplified and she comes face to face with the source: a man, bound and gagged, his eyes shut as he lies, weakened by his restraints. Without hesitation, Ellie kneels beside him, pistol pressed to his pained temple, her gaze unwavering,
“Who did this to you?" she demands, her voice edged with a fierce determination. His eyes fly open, looking up at her fearfully.
“Shit! Some fuckin’ girl – I don’t know!”
“… When did she leave?”
“Like ten minutes ago! I haven’t got shit, she took everything! I’m begging you, please untie me!”
She stands, contemplating it for a moment, before she kicks him over so that he can contort his body into a sitting position, eliciting a sharp groan. He wasn’t tied up beyond hope of managing to undo the knots, you made sure of it,
“You can figure that out on your own, I got shit to do.”
With a sense of exhilaration, Ellie jogs out and circles to the back of the building, her eyes scanning the snow-covered ground for any sign of movement where she notices a fresh set of foot and hoofprints, meeting at a point along the line where they become one trail of hoofprints, a delicate dance littering the frozen canvas.
Hope surges within Ellie as, once again, she follows the tracks. She has to move fast; you have a horse and she has only her feet. The air is tense with anticipation, but she somehow manages to power through the all-consuming exhaustion and hunger with the promise of getting closer to the elusive figure she seeks.
The sun dips lower on the horizon; the bitter cold forgotten in the warmth of purpose.
Nothing is left of your house but the gnarled bones of the home it once was. The memories of all you left behind seep through the cracked walls – the good and the bad, a silent witness to the passage of time. You hold your breath captive in your tightened chest and push open the door, its rusty hinges protesting your return with a shrill creak.
The air is thick with dust dancing in the slivers of dim light that manage to pierce through boarded windows. Everything surrounding you, once thriving and familiar, is now reduced to mere echoes, whispers. Your fingers gently trace the life left in the fray, your gaze sweeping over the remnants of all you lost to the destruction. There’s nothing but blood left to salvage, to hold onto.
You lay in the centre of what used to be your bedroom, save for the actual bed, beside the shadow of the place where Soren used to lie, but there is no reprieve. You can’t look at it, your gaze pointed to the damp-stained ceiling, rust-coloured organic forms scattered across it.
If there’s one thing you can trust to remain a constant in your life, it’s that memories flood your mind no matter when or where you are, unbidden and unwelcome. Here, you can let them play out wholly, succumb to the deserved guilt that you cannot let yourself escape.
Trace the mustard outline of the leakages in the wallpapered walls with the movement of your weary pupils, stop trying to battle the thoughts as they influx from the depths. Turn your head to look at the ruined wall – no matter how hard you scrubbed, droplets of what once was his blood, and his blood only, taken over by that cruel evil, seeped through and infected it just as the clicker infected him. They still burn as hot and bright as they did that night, staring back at you.
You had been splayed out on the floor, over tattered blankets, similar to now, waiting for Soren, who had heard a noise beyond the gate. The worry was becoming an annoyance, so you got up and ran out into the night to find him, further out than you usually would on your own.
You should’ve stayed. Never should’ve wandered. It was your fault he had to fight off that clicker, the scar etched into his back for all eternity, evidence of your fatal error. Even though you made it home with adrenaline pumping through your veins, the nagging sting eventually became an undeniable ache, and from that point, Soren was already dead.
He begged and begged, eyes glassed over for the first time since your mother died, but your pathetic selfishness left him shrinking beside the new force overcoming his body, till he became what he prayed he would never become.
Then, and only then, did you do it. Coward that you are, bashing his obliterated skull over and over in the haze, blood and brains sent adrift, consuming all the surfaces they landed on, your mind, body, and soul, for the rest of your life, and anything that lies beyond.
There’s a violent shift and you jolt back to the surface, gasping for air like you were drowning with sharp, shallow, greedy breaths.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Ellie's urgent voice cuts through the remnants of the memory.
"I got you," she whispers, a breathless relief in her voice. You, disoriented and still caught in an intersection between past and present, struggle to hold back the already fallen tears and even in spite of the glaring truth that you came here wilfully, the sight of her brings sweet relief.
“Ellie-”
“Shimmer.”
“Huh?”
“The horse’s name is Shimmer.”
PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———
ch. 6
ch. 1 ch. 2 ch.3 ch. 4 ch. 5
don’t be a piece of shit
cw - set in jackson with an unclear timeline, no mentions of joel or jj, kind of half proofread, profanities, depictions of mental illness, graphic situations, CUNNILINGUS 🤰, mdni
Seconds, which blur the line between moments and hours, drag by, yet breaths still come in sharp, ragged gasps.
Your chest still feels heavy, bearing the lingering weight of the memories that overwhelmed you, and the stale, dust-ridden air of your old home still churns maliciously within your rib cage though you’re far from it now. Nothing is proving helpful in satiating your ravenous lungs.
Her hand is already soothing tender circles into your back before you can register it and the violence of your inhale softens.
“Shimmer?” you repeat, words veiled by winded breaths.
“Yeah, that’s right,” like it’s second nature to her, Ellie moves her calloused hand so that it’s splayed across your thumping heart to gently ground you and the room stops spinning so frustratingly.
Your focus shifts to her touch, to the warmth that radiates from her palm.
“It’s kinda fuckin’ impressive you managed to go so long without learning any of their names,” as always, her voice is a quiet rasp, intimate and gentle as a smile plays at her chapped lips.
In contrast, your gaze is intense and, somehow, distant. It makes Ellie’s stomach twist with anxiety.
“Wasn’t planning on staying.”
“… Right. Well, you should probably learn them now.”
You’re back in Jackson – not in your home, but in Ellie’s decrepit hybrid shed, which somehow managed to outdo your actual house by miles.
What your home lacked, hers carried in abundance; warmth and soul, with pictures and posters scattered across the dulled walls and memories laced through the trinkets lining each shelf. It was alive with the force of her affection.
Coming back invited the questioning gaze of the townspeople, but your mind was too tired to pay it any mind, or to pay the fact that she was leading you away from your house any mind either.
“The place you went to... You used to live there? I, uh, saw a carving of your name and your brother’s, I think it was, in the fence. Soren, right?”
“Yeah… Me and Soren…”
“… Listen… Why did you do it? You didn’t wanna be there, I know that much. You were... fucked up, to say the least, when I found you. I don’t understand.”
“I don't know… I don’t want to be safe; I don’t deserve to be safe-”
Your heart beats sporadically at the sudden overbearing guilt inside you, the source of which you can’t trace back to a specific moment, and your breath hitches in your throat so you can't meet her worried eyes. There are so many actions you cannot justify at all, save for the fact that there was a massive remorseful compulsion to do it. For Soren, even though you know, deep down, he’d never have wanted this, you know you did it for him. You’ll never fully be able to explain why, or why you ended up going back with Ellie without argument.
“Hey, I'm here." her soothing voice cuts through the dense anxiousness in the air and, for a moment, the fog clears - the sight of her softened face, so endearing.
“It’s okay. I’m okay.”
Her eyes are so beautiful; it's so easy to forget what you were even thinking about when you dive into them.
"You- fuck- you know that’s stupid, right? Of course you deserve to be safe, y/n, how could you not deserve that?"
You’re a fraud. You had everyone fooled, thinking you had morals, but you can’t let her believe in a falsehood. The words burst out like rust-ridden water from a burst pipe; so explosively that she jerks back slightly, eyebrows knitted in worry.
"Because I’m bad person! You don’t know me, Ellie! I killed him! I fucking beat him to death! I am so fucking disgusting!"
"You-"
"Oh my god, Ellie, he was just a fucking kid! And he was terrified! Terrified of what would happen if he let the infection take over and terrified of hurting me! Fuck, and he begged me to do it before he turned, but I couldn't fucking do it! How could I?! And then I beat him to death as soon as he came for me, because I am a coward, and when it came down to it, all it took was a little scare for me to hurt him so fucking badly... God, Ellie, it didn’t have to be like that; it shouldn’t have fucking been like that but I’m so selfish… He was all I had left… Without him, I’m nothing… But I fucking deserve it. I deserve all the shit that comes my way. And I have to take it. All of it."
Somewhere amidst the fire, she grabs your shoulders and pulls you closer,
"Y/N, no. Deep down, you know that's not true. He was just a kid but -fucking- so were you! You were just a kid, and it's not fair that you had to fend for yourself! It's not fair that you and your brother had to live like this! It's not fair that he got infected, or that anyone did, and it is not your fault that your choice had the consequences it did when you were panicked and desperate and young. It is not your fault it happened the way it did. This world... Nothing about it is fair. Even though I can’t replace him, and I don’t know you as well as him, I care about you and I want to be around you. And I know for a fact that you are not a bad person, and I fucking know that. You are not a bad person. What happened back then was not evil, it was tragic, not evil. You can’t forget it, and you shouldn’t! But your brother would never want you to be stuck in this awful cycle. He would never blame you like this. Shit happens, we do things we regret and life doesn't go the way we plan, we lose people we love, but we move forward. We have to. And you are not alone, not while I’m here, you can never be."
Her words are harsh and sharp, to get through to you, nicking little chips at the edges of your iron-strong resolve. For the first time, you let yourself consider it, and the strength of your guilt’s hold loosens up just a bit.
Through pooling tears that threaten to fall and the lump that sits tight in your throat, you reach out your arms to bury your face into the warmth of her shoulder, and push your shaky, cracking voice out.
“I miss him so much… I can’t stop thing about it… I can’t stop feeling like this…”
Ellie immediately collects your draped body into a fervid hold, trying desperately to cling onto the rare openings you allow her.
“It’s gonna be okay. Just give yourself time. Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise you.”
6 MONTHS LATER
The Tipsy Bison’s doors are held wide open, but great gusts of wind are no match for the laughter, clinking of glasses and constant hum of conversation within.
Somewhere amongst the bundles of life, you are sat at a rickety table beside Ellie, Dina, and Jesse, and are fitting in like a puzzle piece beyond all capabilities of your imagination when you first arrived in Jackson.
Jesse’s eyes held fast to Dina, who’s head was thrown back in a wholehearted cackle over something relatively insignificant. You were all slumped in your chairs with great big grins, flushed faces and strands of hair clinging to your clammy necks, in high spirits.
Your heart feels full. For the first time, you can go out and laugh freely without the intense gaze of your overwhelming guilt or constant, racing thoughts of Soren. Panic attacks lie dormant for longer than you’d ever dreamed of.
Ellie’s gaze reaches you, and the way your heart swells with all-consuming affection is mutual. You can tell from the way she looks at you, all warm and admiring.
For a second, the sight of the people behind her falls away and you are the only people left in the room, in the world. Here, you are with people who care about you, want to be around you. Here, there is a sense of belonging that you hadn't felt in a long time.
After a moment, the pink-tinged apples of her cheeks fatten with a sincere, toothy grin, hazy eyes squinting as they flit down to her glass, and you notice that the number of people here has actually dwindled.
“Oh shit, everyone’s gone, I didn’t even realise.” Dina mumbled, scanning the room. Jesse lazily rose from his chair, stretching as he looked back at her,
“We should probably get going too, huh. I'll see you two tomorrow, then.” He nodded over to both of you before huddling together with Dina and drunkenly walking off.
You look back to Ellie; she’s leaning back in her chair, legs spread in a way that brings on certain feelings, raising her glass to her parted lips and her eyes never leave yours.
You watch her swallow the last traces of whiskey and set the glass down before tilting her head at you with a smirk. You’re both drunk, warm, fuzzy, tingly.
Her eyebrows raise before she gets up and leans over, and whispering,
“C’mon, babe,” into your ear.
As you stroll back, you’re met with the refreshing cool night air and you can’t help but feel a sense of contentment, hand in hand with Ellie, watching her ramble on. Your hushed giggles carry through the empty paths.
When you arrive at Ellie's place, stumbling through the door, you collapse onto her bed. This place has become more of a home than your real home; you’re almost never not spending the night. Among the clusters of trinkets and piles of clothes, your belongings have found a place, as well as the acrylic image of your face amidst her paintings.
Candlelight, the room is bathed in the soft orangey glow, casting shadows that dance and flicker across Ellie’s grinning face. You cling onto her dearly, intertwining your limbs with flushed cheeks and gazing up at her longingly, light and airy.
You settle into a comfortable silence with your bodies pressed against each other while she stares up down at her rough palm as you trace, with gentle and loving touches, the lines engraving it, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten.
She pecks your cheek,
“Are you sleepy?”
You look up at her with a sly smirk,
“No. Are you?”
“Nuh uh, you know what I’m thinking?”
“Oh, I know exactly what you’re thinking?”
You rise from your spot, nestled into her side, taking the hand you were playing with and entwining your fingers as you hover over her. The look on her face is mellow yet excited, her hands already reach out for your waist, already making your body feel hotter.
“You gonna show me, babe?”
She pulls you closer so you dive into the soft crook of her neck, sensitive with trails of tingling skin where you place kisses, desperate to feel the warmth her body emits, desperate for her to feel so incredibly real to you, for her to overwhelm your senses. You’ve never been infatuated quite like this before, never felt quite so comfortable with the love you hold for a person. But with Ellie, it’s simple, easy, comes naturally to you. She’s so many things, but, especially a sanctuary. A sanctuary weathered by the storms of your past but still standing firm.
“Mhmm, I’m gonna show you, Els.”
Ellie’s slumped at the head of her dingy bed.
Her body is bare and her muscles are tensing with each desperate, visceral movement, glowing with a thin sheen of sweat and slick,, as she kneads her fingers into the fat of your ass and meets your lips hungrily.
You hold onto her freckled face, looking down at her fucked out, beautiful eyes. They’re just begging for more after giving it to you for so long, consolidated by the sparkly feeling of her grinding up onto you,
“You’re so hot,”
“Oh, am I?” you mutter, pushing her back against the mattress and watching her eyes widen while chuckling to yourself,
“Wha- Alright, jesus fuck,”
You crawl off her lap with deliberate sexuality, pushing her legs apart abruptly. She clambers up onto her arms but you push her back, watching her tits bounce as she collapses,
“Shut up, El,”
“Oh, I see how it is, you aren’t fucking around anymore. No more mr nice guy, no funny busin-”
“Dude, fucking stop, you just, like, made me un-wet,”
“Oh shit, gotta get serious.”
You smack her thigh gently.
She grins and folds her arms behind her head, her eyes never leaving yours as you lower yourself in front of her pussy. Yours narrow ever so slightly when she grabs the back of your head and pushes it into your mouth, moaning at the contact of your lips with hers.
It gets you warm, placing a kiss filled with genuine love on her puffy clit before borderline making out with her pussy,
The sight of her eyes rolling back as her jaw goes slack has you begging for more, so you run your tongue up from her slit before lapping at it like you’re starved and watching her go cross-eyed from the sheer pleasure.
You can’t help but dip a finger a finger or two into her dripping hole, wanting nothing but to make her feel good, for her to come undone on you, slick smeared over your mouth, nose and chin, dripping lewdly down your palm.
You watch her body convulse, mattress cover clinging to her sweaty back as it arches up off the bed and her legs pull you in graciously.
You rest your head on her thigh and relish in the sight for a moment before she’s looking back into your eyes and urging you to come up so she can hold you, and also to stop breathing onto her clit because her “legs might spasm and strangle you or something,”
You laugh and lay your head down on her naked chest to hear her heart thump within her, in the tender embrace of the arms she holds out for you.
“Els?”
“Hmm?”
“Remind me to take those really fluffy socks I have home with me later. So much stuff is here now, I keep getting annoyed whenever Im actually home for once.”
“Sure, I can do that, if I don’t also forget.”
“Great.”
She lulls your eyes into a soft close with the feeling of her stroking your hair, and as she watches you exist, she realises she’d like to do that for longer. So, she leans into your ear and whispers,
“Hey, babe?”
“Yeah?”
“Why don’t you just… bring all your stuff to my place, you know, move in with me?”
You raise your head from her chest (she immediately misses the warmth) and meet her eyes, face slowly morphing into an adoring smile which she reflects, before placing a kiss on her forehead and then locking your lips with hers.
PLEASE READ
a/n - last chapterrrrrr ahdgstihaveahugepenisdtyf, banners by cafekitsune and saradika-graphics, my condolences to anyone who has read this bc i kinda hate it but thanks anyways. im not gonna write anything for a while after this (except for this one req thats been sitting in my drafts for an ungodly amount of time) because of the situation in palestine and the upcoming global strikes. i dont want to think abt a game made by a zionist who embedded zionist propaganda into it and donated money to israel most likely earned from the game. upwards of 30,000 palestinians, 11,000 of which were children, have been murdered by israel since october. yeah, for now, it’s only gonna be palestine-related posts. please, please do not buy the remaster, im begging you. its just a remaster, im pretty sure we can all go without it.
thinking of maintenance man!ellie, who is really just doing her job around your apartment unit, so how is it that she looks so good?
you’re lucky that everything in your unit works just fine. it’s actually quite shameful how you wish something would start lacking, just a little, so that you could eagerly type in a request and see her at your door.
you’re not alone in this, no. ellie sees numbers of residents every day, but finds herself disappointed when she realizes there’s no need to see you. it’s even more painful when she has to make a stop at your neighbor across the way, guiltily letting her eyes linger on your door. maybe if she waits a few minutes before actually announcing herself, she’ll catch you leaving.
(she ends up just announcing herself on time, hearing someone climb up the stairs below her. she has to shake off her brief embarrassment for even thinking of doing such a thing).
it isn’t until, day by day, you notice your ac starts failing. the temperature in your apartment is rising, and you’re constantly spread out across your bed, glistening and fanning yourself with loose papers from your recent move.
blinded by your frustration, you don’t even realize how happy you should be as you submit a request online, begging for some help in this unforgiving heat.
and because it’s your ac, it’s dire. oh, it’s serious. ellie’s there within the next 30 minutes, greeting you with concern and a firm determination to save you.
and, perhaps she’ll save you in more than one way, when she thinks about it. as you open your door, adoring the most skimpy and heat friendly outfit, hair all the way back with loose, frizzy pieces falling out— oh, yeah. she’ll save you.
Summary: If there’s one person in this entire world who could leave your emotions in utter disarray, it’s your roommate, Ellie fucking Williams. On one hand, your wholehearted hatred for her is very much clear cut; she is loud almost every night, leaves clusters of garbage and stacks of plates that should’ve been washed days ago around the apartment, goes out of her way to piss you off because it’s entertaining to watch you scramble for another shitty comeback, and has zero regard for your comfort whatsoever. But on the other hand, when she appears in your doorway, you have to suppress the instinctive upwards tug of your lips, even when she’s teasing, you’re holding back a giggle, the way she looks at you makes your stomach flutter, and there are moments when she almost shows too much regard for your comfort, when you can’t help but acknowledge that she might feel a similar flutter in her stomach that draws her to come to your room to watch you scramble for a comeback. Moments like now, when you’re feeling under the weather, and Ellie is quick to help.
ch. 1 -
She’s at it again; the usual shenanigans, though, this time, your response is a little lacklustre. Maybe, even to the point of concern, so she checks your temperature, to your absolute shock, and loses her shit.
ch. 2 -
This chapter includes smut.
The day that follows, you’ve recovered, much to your dismay, and a wave of confusion overcomes you following a night of unexpected intimacy. Also, you’re out of milk, and a bunch of other shit, so time for a supermarket run with Ellie.
ch. 3 -
This chapter contains smut.
It’s been a week since you and Ellie fucked, and out of all the reactions you could’ve had, you had the worst possible one. It’s been radio silence, complete avoidance, and nothing but horrifying for Ellie. She’s upset, you’re upset, you need to make up.
bonus -
Oh, how the tables have turned.
playlist:
summary: You’ve been in Jackson for three months; you’ve been stuck in a perpetual cycle of guilt and ravenous grief, trying desperately to recover from what went down between you and your brother before you left home and came here. Needless to say, you’re fitting in like a lego block in an 1000 piece puzzle, and you realise you’re better off going back to the old house, where you can succumb to the thoughts that plague you. Maria tries to help here and there, shoving you into patrol with people she prays you’ll get along with, namely Ellie Williams. Rather than that, you expectedly remain strong in your stance, both of you as closed off as each other. You come to appreciate the mutual understanding you’ve reached, giving each other space, only ever making slightly critical remarks, to the point where you think you see cracks start to form in your iron shell. But iron is iron, after all.
ch. 1 -
You’re not getting better, definitely worse. Patrol is the only force beckoning you to leave your den of misery, patrol with Ellie. Not much luck there either, you return with an injured ankle and an Ellie who is slightly less awkward and icy, similar to you. Though, when you’re alone with your thoughts again, you are utterly helpless.
ch. 2 -
Progress is dwindling, regress is massive; you’ve been inside for a fucking long time, with your only motivation for getting outside off the table. The numbness is overwhelming, so the knocking goes unanswered as you merge with your mattress. You told yourself you’d leave Jackson once you can walk again. Then, Ellie breaks the door down, with a very important food delivery. She profusely apologises, but the blizzard raging outside captures your focus. She can’t get home now. Sleepover?
ch. 3 -
This chapter contains smut.
The tension is high after last night’s events. Ellie’s on her way soon after, and the consequences of her busting through your door fully set in when the woman from the infirmary manages to get inside to check if your ankle is healing well. Good news: it is. So, you can set off soon. Ellie returns, to your surprise, and she comes bearing gifts. You learn something new everyday, e.g. weed makes you and Ellie horny.
ch. 4 -
Ellie’s departure was a gentle slaughter of your heart, leaving you dazed and empty. It’s time to go. One last meeting with the people of Jackson at the party Ellie left you to help with, and you’re off, leaving nothing but a note and a confused Ellie to read it behind.
ch. 5 -
She’s searching for you, she’s desperate, and hungry, and exhausted, but she’s been worse. There’s no way she won’t find you.
ch. 6 -
This chapter contains smut.
Recovery is a slow process, but Ellie is someone you’ve historically found comfort in. Each day, she expands the bounds of that comfort, and each day, you’re sure you want to live to see another.
playlist:
okay okay!! how about reader gets back late from patrol (so tlou au) and ellie was all worried and it’s super cute and fluffy?? (change it to your preferences if you like :)
THESE WALLS
PAIRING: Jackson! Ellie x reader
CW: fluff. outbreak|tlou universe. brief-non detailed mention of overwhelming thoughts such as fear of loosing loved ones and stress.
DON'T BUY TLOU | PALESTINE MP PALESTINE LINKS | DAILY CLICK
TAGLIST
The night lay thick with a stillness so profound that even the faintest sound seemed to echo with unsettling clarity. Ellie, trapped in the small sanctuary she had carefully curated, paced restlessly. Her gaze was perpetually drawn to the door, its unyielding silence a stark contrast to the usual rhythm of your return. Each passing moment stretched infinitely, laden with a tension that seemed to deepen with every tick of the clock.
The dim glow of a solitary lamp cast a soft, golden haze over the room. Walls adorned with wooden murals and comic book covers. Delicate strands of Christmas lights wove their way across the space, their faint twinkle casting a gentle, warm light. Yet, despite the serene ambiance, Ellie’s heart was a storm of unease.
She attempted to distract herself, but the mundane details of her surroundings blurred into an indistinguishable haze. Every action seemed to drift by in slow motion, her frustration mounting with each fruitless effort to quell her growing anxiety. She knew in her rational mind that the patrol was fraught with danger, but her deep-seated fear of losing those she loved clung stubbornly to her thoughts.
The creak of the door shattered the quiet, sending Ellie’s heart leaping to her throat. She dashed to the entrance, the door swinging open to reveal you, looking slightly disheveled but otherwise unharmed. Relief surged through her, though it was quickly overwhelmed by a tidal wave of emotions.
As you stepped into the room, the scene before you was both touching and a little comical. Ellie’s usual dorky charm had been replaced by a palpable anxiety. The carefully decorated room, filled with her beloved nerdy trinkets, faded into the background as your focus honed in on her distressed face.
“Hey, sorry,” you said, offering a weary smile. The concern in her eyes was evident, and you could tell she had been struggling.
“We ran into a few more infected than we expected. It took longer to clear them out,” you explained, trying to reassure her.
Ellie’s response was sharp, but it was laced with an undertone of deep-seated worry. “I was starting to think… I don’t know, shit had happened.” Her eyes, usually so full of mischief and laughter, were now wide and brimming with concern.
You stepped closer, the old floorboards creaking softly beneath your feet. Her fingers drummed impatiently against her thighs, her gaze darting over you in a frantic search for any signs of injury.
Ellie let out a deep sigh, rubbing her temples as though trying to ward off a headache. “It’s not just about being late. It’s about you being safe.” Her voice faltered, and she turned away momentarily, struggling to regain her composure.
You reached for her hand, gently enveloping it in your own. “I’m here, Ellie. Safe and sound. Nothing is going to happen to me.”
Her eyes met yours once more, shimmering with a blend of relief and lingering anxiety. “I know, but it doesn’t make it any easier—never mind,” she murmured, her words softening as the harsh edge gave way to a tender vulnerability. Her usual playful demeanor was momentarily eclipsed by her raw, heartfelt fear.
Drawing her into a tight embrace, you felt her tense muscles slowly unwind against you. “I’m here,” you whispered into her ear, your voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
You gently cupped her face in your hands, pressing a soft, loving kiss to her lips. When you finally pulled away, a small, contented smile graced her face, her eyes reflecting the warmth of your affection.
“Hey…” you murmured, leaning in closer. “How bad do I smell?” You playfully nuzzled against her, inhaling her comforting scent, the familiar fragrance and the fabric of her hoodie enveloping you in warmth.
Ellie chuckled, a soft hum escaping her as she considered your question. “Baby diapers," your quiet laughs mingling.
Your lips beushed over hers, one last tender kiss on her lips, savoring the moment. “I love you."
“I love you too,” you replied, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “And I’ll always come back to you.”
Can u do a drabble or hcs on cuddling Ellie?
Ur writing is so good I love everything U write :>
WREATHE
warnings: not much, mostly fluff, basically the rq, mdni with my account tho😏
a/n: IM SO SORRY THIS HAS BEEN IN MY INBOX FOR I KID YOU NOT LIKE HALF A YEAR IM GENUINELY SO SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME 😰 thank you so much for sending the rq even though i took the piss responding, also this is a drabble bc i don’t think i’d be good at doing hcs 😭 i have some shit coming up at uni so i prolly won’t put anything out for a while but i have an idea for a new fic in the drafts !!! very excited…
ramadan has started which means israel’s violence against the Palestinian people will worsen as it does every year, purely for the sake of inflicting even more psychological torture on them. please, now more than ever, pray for them if you’re religious, talk about palestine, boycott, protest, strike, donate if you can, contact the people in charge. don’t let people forget. here’s a link to some details on the situation. everybody stay safe 💗.
10:47 - you return from a strenuous day of patrol and odd jobs around Jackson. You’re slightly tipsy, a drink or two from the Tipsy Bison churning a pool of warmth within your stomach.
The place is stagnant when you push the door open, as if coming home to nobody.
Ellie must’ve gone to bed early today.
You drift to the bathroom despite the fact that the house feels apocalyptic, and sit in the gentle rush of water, scrubbing your skin weakly with aching arms.
When you enter your room, everything is still, except for the rhythmic rise and fall of Ellie’s figure beneath the covers on the bed backed against the wall.
You throw the dampened towel that is slung over your shoulder carelessly and walk over to the bed, gently settling beside her.
For a while, you feel content. Sleep is lulling you in, the room is shadowy, the bed is warm, and the sound of Ellie’s deep-sleep-breaths (totally not snores at all, she swears) are soft like TV static in the back of your mind.
Your eyes are on the verge of fluttering close for the last time tonight so you turn onto your side and nestle into the crook of your shoulder.
Then, there’s a harsh jolt and the bed shifts. You can feel Ellie’s puzzled gaze raking over you, the realisation that you’re home setting, and your lips twist into a smile subconsciously. The night rarely ends without the inebriating buzz of affection.
A quiet sigh escapes the enclosure of her blush-pink lips before she reclines into the pillows once more, eyes never leaving the still curvature of your figure. Not a moment passes and her arms encircle your waist, warmth embracing your torso and pressing against your hair like a wreathe of absolute comfort.
A barely audible mumble tickles the helix of your ear,
“Hey, babe,” accompanied by the phantom touch of her lips against your cheeks in her half-asleep state. You scrunch your nose before turning into the love she offers you.
“Hey, Els.”
You begin to mumble butterfly details about the happenings of the day as you feel the surface of her skin raise with goosebumps under the delicate tracing of your fingertips - down her bare thighs, along the round of her hip, along her stomach and under her boobs - easing airy chuckles out of her.
“Whatcha doin’?”
“Hm? Nothin’…”
You can already picture the smirk on her dazed face,
“Ya sure there? You want somethin’, babe?”
A playful scoff and she’s looking at you with feigned shock against the weight of tired eyelids,
“Can’t I feel you? I just wanna be close to you,”
“I’d say we’re pretty close, ya know?”
“Never close enough,” you clarify and the rasp of her laugh fades into silence and she presses a kiss onto your head, and then another, straining her neck till she’s face to flushed and grinning face, stringing a blizzard of soft, dewy kisses across it.
“Alright, alright!”
“One more- mwah,” she smacks her lips against your scrunched up mouth aggressively, leaving a gross patch of saliva, and smiles dumbly to herself, tightening the hold of her arms around you to which you groan.
Tight against her gentle sway, she mutters a quiet confirmation,
“Never close enough,” and then runs the rough pads of her fingertips along the expanse of your skin, lingering a moment on your thighs.
It’s like the rustle of a spring breeze and it draws your eyes to a close.
As you drift further from the surface, you feel the soft tingle of Ellie’s foot nudging your ankle and the distant haze of her voice whispering,
“You sure you don’t want anything, baby?” and you’re asleep.
also, absolutely no one asked for this but here are some pictures of my fat ass cat (cutest patootie evah 😆😆):
CHARM
PAIRING: Jackson! Ellie x reader
CW: request. fluff. outbreak|tlou universe. me trying a new writing style lol
SUMMARY: in between cuddles ellie realizes you're ticklish
DON'T BUY TLOU | PALESTINE MP PALESTINE LINKS | DAILY CLICK
TAGLIST
It had been a long day, more exhausting than anticipated. It wasn't supposed to end this way, but how could anyone resist those pleading puppy eyes and the promise of another movie night? Ellie’s enthusiasm for cozy cuddles and her fascinating, albeit quirky, observations about films—facts she seemed to notice with every viewing, as if she were discovering them anew—was irresistible.
The quiet confines of Ellie’s room offered sanctuary from the fatigue of the day. The garage she called home transformed into a personal haven, adorned with an eclectic mix of art, space-themed decor, and comic book tokens. Christmas lights, strung haphazardly around the room, twinkled like distant stars, adding a warm, festive glow to the space. Music played softly in the background—a familiar tune from Ellie’s favorite artist and your favorte song to find balance. It always seemed to soothe both.
You were curled up on the couch, a tangled mess of limbs beneath a cozy blanket. The soft, ethereal light creating an intimate and lazy atmosphere. These moments, with their comforting simplicity, were what kept both of you going through the week.
"So," Ellie’s fingers began to trace lazy patterns on your arm, each touch sending a soothing shiver through you. "How was your day?" Her voice, soft and comforting, drew you from your thoughts. You turned to meet her eyes, which were already focused on you with a lazy smile.
"It was okay," you murmured, your voice trailing off into a whisper. "This new horse... it’s exhausting." You could hear Ellie’s chuckle, the sound brightening her face and accentuating the pretty freckles that danced across her cheeks.
"Don’t laugh," you commanded playfully, though your own laughter betrayed you. Your gaze drifted from her eyes to the warmth of her hands around your stomach.
You instinctively reached for her fingers, intertwining them with yours. You played with the softness of her knuckles, the warmth of her touch a perfect contrast to the cool evening air.
"tired from patrol, hmm?" Ellie’s tattooed arm slipped from your grasp, her fingers caressing beneath the soft cotton of your clothes and over the skin of your stomach. the contact sending a gentle thrill through you.
You hummed in response, a weak “mhm” as you shifted, seeking more space between your legs. Your body ached for her scent, her warmth, the comforting presence that was uniquely Ellie.
“I gotchu’,” she said, her voice holding a playful edge that you both loved. The tickling sensation began as a light, fuzzy feeling, spreading a delightful numbness across your stomach. You instinctively curled up, her fingers dancing across your ribs, sending you into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
“Ellie, no!” you squealed, laughter bubbling uncontrollably from your lips. “Stop! I can’t breathe!” you managed to gasp between fits of giggles.
Ellie, caught in the infectious joy of the moment, finally relented. Her laughter mingled with yours as she leaned down, her face close to yours. “What?” she asked, her voice dripping with playful intent. You tried to respond, but your words were lost in the silly movements of your arms, desperately holding on to her. “What? What?” Her voice echoed in your ears, interspersed with the sweet sound of your shared laughter. “Stop!”
She complied, her hands coming to rest gently on your waist, giving you one last tickle as you caught your breath. The disapproving look you gave her was tempered with a smile that couldn’t quite hide your affection.
You both lay there, your bodies pressed close together, catching your breath. Her freckles, now flushed with a soft pink, revealed her own recovery from the tickling. “That’s—don’t do that. Like, ever,” you scolded gently, though there was no real malice in your words.
Ellie leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. “Forgive me?” she whispered against your lips, her voice carrying a playful undertone.
You nodded, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her closer. The two of you settled back into the couch, the warmth of your love and the lingering laughter making the space between you even more cozy.
“I love you,” she whispered, her lips brushing against yours once more.
"I love you too,” you replied, your voice soft and sincere.
The tickling was soon forgotten, replaced by the enveloping warmth of her love and the softness of her kisses. You pulled her closer, savoring the moment and the profound comfort of being together.