Ellie Willams X Reader - Blog Posts

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

Rose - (ellie williams x reader)

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

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts

warnings: sexual themes

Summary: in which she cant forget you

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

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

Who will be the lucky girl tonight?

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

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

Holy shit, who are you?

Her eyes scanned your body.... fuck

Maybe you'd be the lucky one

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

Oh you were feisty.

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

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

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

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

oh.

Ellie wasn't expecting that.

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

Ellie shook her head quickly gaining her composure.

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

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

Now this made her jaw drop.

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

What the fuck is happening?

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

You left the Ellie Williams speechless.

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

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

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

"h-hey" did she just fucking stutter?

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

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

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

You laugh at her. You fucking laugh at her.

"Don't be pathetic, use your words"

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

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

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

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

"see fucking pathetic"

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

What were you doing to her?

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

The rest was a blur to her.

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

After tonight she knew you fucked her over.

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

Who are you?

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

She opened her eyes to a cold empty bed.

"Fuck" she sighed.

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

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

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

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

"Fuck rose who are you?"

<3

details of ellie’s room (joel’s garage) and dina!

for the ellie girls

made an ellie one too 🫶🏼

ignore my tt watermark i’m too lazy to change it to my tumblr one

─═✧✧═─ 𝕒𝕓𝕓𝕪 𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕞𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕓𝕠𝕒𝕣𝕕 ─═✧✧═─

i love my soft!abby smmm 🥹

when doves cry, do you hear them love?

summary. first fragment of your youth. cw. fluff? no, we only know angst over here, blood, guns, character death. you're thirteen here. wc. 1,992 cr. color code from elliesproperty on tumblr. notes. Sorry this took so long, my pc is still tweaking and crashing so often i got so pissed, i started tearing up bro. Anyway, at first this chapter was gonna have three flashbacks in this, which all three were going to be long asl I can just tell, but I thought separating them would be best, didn't wanna make you guys wait too long for this lol. I had a lot of fun writing about the reader in this chapter. I’m just going with the flow with this series tbh, I'm very new to this, this being my first ever series lol we’ll see how it goes. Ty to my sweet anons for the motivation, and I hope future chapters live up to your guys' expectations!! 01 / 02 / AO3

YEAR 2033. Dust built up through the passage of time had caked in the crevices of the wall's base moldings. Lavender-colored wallpaper torn, tattered, and riddled with bullets. Turning your gaze forward, four mangled infected corpses, toppled over each other, lay at the end of the hallway, filling the stale air of the abandoned apartment building with its offensive foul odor. Nature slithered and had made its way through the massive crater in the ceiling above the bodies, swallowing up most of the walls. The floorboard creaked and whined underneath their body weight, shoes leaving water trails in their stead. Overlapped sounds of wet, urgent footsteps, deep guttural groans, and the fast beating of your heart drumming against your eardrums only contributed to increasing your adrenaline. “Hold him–hold him for me.” An exhausted voice shifts your focus to your older sister, who's aiding in holding up the muscular man. Sticky sweat trickles down your throat and forehead, and thickened dirt is underneath your nails.

You nod your head, his weight pressing a bit harder down onto your smaller body, when she slowly removes herself from him. You pointed out your strength in keeping him upright when she moved away. Her head tilts slightly to be at your level briefly, and her eyebags are more prominent. “I have to see if this room is safe for us.” She muttered. Turning her back to face you, she unsheathes her pistol from the leather holster strapped to her thigh, holding it firmly in her dominant hand. She steps up to the door and opens it enough for it to be ajar. Her aim, guided by the wooden door, eyes examining every inch revealed to her the more she opened the door past the threshold.

She quickly glances back at you and your uncle, giving herself only a second before she finally pushes the door wide, her shoes falling and shifting with purpose around the apartment's brown wooden floor. The small kitchen on the right had a few cabinets and drawers open, seemingly void of any valuables. The living room beside it had a dark grey knit blanket settled below the wooden coffee table, peeking out from underneath, and the wooden bookcase on the left side of the door had books of different genres and interesting topics. You watched as she faded further into the apartment, your eyebrows knit together, vaguely tilting your head on the left occasionally to take in the environment being thoroughly investigated by your sister. 

A choked curse rumbling close to your right ear and the firm hold on your left shoulder tightening made you blink to look up at your uncle, his body in a state worse than yours. A puddle of blood that’d spread was soaked up by the gauze wrapped around his lower left abdomen, and shared sweat invaded your nostrils. “Uncle..” You whisper to him, anxiety etched into every fiber of your being. Witnessing your only father figure suffering tore your heart apart. “‘S alright, sweetheart.” His voice and demeanor, which you’ve known to be assertive and fearless, dimmed dramatically to being strained and fatigued. The hold you had on his waist grew tighter after he said that, left hand rising to tenderly plant itself on top of his rough hand that grasped your shoulder.

Shoes stepping on wooden flooring rose in volume, and the pleasing sight of your sister reappearing at the front door. “Everything’s good. Come on, I got you.” Softly-spoken, but the underlying stress upon her profoundly resonated between the three of you like an echo chamber as you all stumbled and groaned, leading him to the end of the hallway in the apartment, past the small kitchen and living room, into the disorganized bedroom. Its wide window displayed the afternoon view of the ransacked, vacant city riddled with rustic vehicles and grass overtaking the streets that were once a quarantine zone orchestrated by the military. It was sealed shut, and droplets of rain collided against the glass.

You both carefully lay your uncle down onto the messy mattress, your sister tilting her upper body a little, slim hands roughened from the difficult trials of the life they live now move to softly wipe the sweat trickling down his cheek, alongside the stray strand of hair out of its regular place. “I’m sorry, Uncle– I..” She lowers her head, staring at her shoes before sealing her eyes shut, and the bottom of her lip quivers. There was desperation in staggering her emotions at this detrimental time, fighting to stay strong for both of you. 

Your stare faltered as you watched your sister struggle, vision blurring as the hot sensation of tears ran down your cheeks. “This was never your fault..” She didn’t say anything, only nodding her head in response before reluctantly stepping away, her gaze skipping from him to stare off at the window. “I need to get going.” She walks out of the bedroom with haste, leaving the door wide open. Fear sharp as the tip of a needle courses through you. “Going where?” You blurted out, your body moving without question to follow her out of the bedroom door to stop her in the living room. “That Pharmacy we came across,” She sniffles harshly, shaking her head. “I need to see if there could be anything there that can help Uncle.”

Your mouth opened and closed, unfiltered doubt had overtaken your expression.

She falters. “I don’t know if I have the strength to do what I think I need to do.” She hiccups, moving in to wrap you into a firm hug, a strong wave of sweat invades their senses. “Leaving him here feels wrong– leaving you alone too– I don’t know anymore, I..” Words come tumbling out of her mouth, you return the hug tenfold, desperate to give her reassurance that she can rely on you too, she doesn’t need to hold all of the extreme weight of responsibility on her shoulders on her lonesome. After a moment, you pull away a little. “...I can do it. I’ll wait for you.” Staring up to meet her eyes.

A beat. 

“...Okay. I’ll be back as soon as I can, maybe I'll find some food as well, alright?” She pulls you back into that tight hug, chin resting on the top of your head. After seconds of silence, she steps away to walk out the front door, and the click and slam of the door shutting echoes in your skull. You went to reassure your uncle about where your older sister went, even when he vaguely nodded, you could tell he also disagreed and was just as worried. After all that, you searched the kitchen, finding only a box of crackers in the bottom cabinet. That had pretty much nothing inside except for seven crackers wrapped in white plastic, hunger coursed through you as soon as your eyes even landed on it, snatching it before walking over to the bookcase next to the front door. Thick dust covered the shelves and books. Genres: Horror, Comedy, Romance, Animals… Animals? Hell yeah!

The corners of your lips quirked as you picked out the book from the bookshelf, particles bursting in front of your face when the books next to it slid down a little, quickly stepping away with a grimace on your face, you moved to plop down onto the couch. With your left hand, you open the book. On the first page, imagery of horses of different breeds intrigued you, and black text described their origins. Moving past that, the next page was of owls. Chowing down on the stale crackers you put on top of your thighs, leaving five crackers left on purpose. Minutes passing you by. Sleep came slamming down on you, like taking a dose of Xylazine, strong, undefeatable to even a horse. You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but your body needed and begged for rest.

Shuffling and loud, abrupt cluttering snapped your slumber.

Your slouched position quickly shot up, neck cranking to look behind you, staring at the hallway with wide eyes. The sounds in the bedroom paused, its door still wide open. Your hands moved silently to remove the book and crackers off of your thighs and onto the wooden coffee table, standing up to your full height, your mouth was left ajar, eyeing the shadow moving on the floor at the end of the hallway, tension in your bones rising when your fingertips inch to your pistol in your back pocket. Praying.

You whisper, hoping that you can prove yourself wrong, so that it'll dispel the dread that's gradually emerging. “Uncle?” Irregular thudding arose once again, a boot unsteadily stepping onto the shadow, moaning in pain, gasping noises were the first sounds you heard from him. “No, no, no, no.” Shaking your head, you can feel your body reacting– that overwhelming emotion of sorrow that your sister briefly described, that’d make your bottom lip quiver and vision blur, opposed to your wishes. 

Blinking them away, upholding the pistol the way he taught you, the sight of what was once your Uncle was replaced with a man who lost his humanity—a shell of his former self. His body movement was lethargic and so erratic that it made you shudder.

And when his glazed-over irises landed on you, he lurched into a feral run, startling you into action. “No, please!” Boots stomping on wooden flooring was blaringly loud to your eardrums, your poor heart racing miles per hour. 

BANG.

Stomach.

He’s still coming.

BANG.

Chest.

He’s trying to crawl over the couch.

BANG!

Head.

His body toppled over when the bullet penetrated his skull, body falling forward– you couldn’t move fast enough, his corpse landing on you, gravity and his heavyweight were too much, your back slammed down onto the wooden coffee table with immense force, breaking it in half, crushing the crackers, and the thick book you were reading dug into your upper back, but none of it compared to your mental distress. His blood leaked from the bullet hole in his forehead, dripping down onto your face. Your hands frantically pushing his shoulders upwards, but pitifully failing in getting him off of you. Breathing came in quick bursts, coughing, and sobs were all that accompanied you in the apartment’s silence; you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, acid welling up in your throat. You feel disgusting.

Dragging yourself from underneath his body as an alternative, wood chips pressed into the palms of your hands, moving to sit up while doing so, sliding back until your back hit the TV stand. You brought your knees up to your chest. “I’m sorry, Uncle! I’m sorry!” Squeals and sobs shredded your vocal cords, the back of your hands carelessly rubbed at your eyes over and over again, the waterfalls of tears were endless, chest hiccuping, ears ringing, ribcage closing in on your heart like a vignette effect, and the deep ache spread across your upper back.

The more you cried to yourself, the more you began to feel isolated. Not knowing if your sister is still alive, or if she went and abandoned you instead. Just the thought of being deserted by her made you bawl your eyes out harder, sclera’s red, snot bubbling and trickling onto your lips only to be wiped away. 

Click.

Crawling forward with haste, teeth gritting, fingertips grazing the pistol’s grip–

A light gasp stopped you.

A second after you looked up, catching a glimpse of her, she was already on you, kneeling to your level, left hand wrapping around your upper back, right hand cradling your head. 

“Oh, Y/n..” Whispered, tearful apologies spilled from her lips, gently swaying both of you left to right. You hold her tight, you can’t envision yourself being detached from her hip now. After you both somewhat regained your composure, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, facing what you had done. 

What you were forced to do.

full throttle series details.

CONTENT WARNINGS WITHIN THE SERIES.

GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, adult language, graphic violence, organs, murder, attempted murder, minor character death, post-apocalypse, romance, angst, fluff. message my inbox if I left anything out.

ep. 001 ep. 002

YOU CAN READ full throttle ON AO3.

this post will be updated each time i upload a new fanfic post. credits: bottom image is from Naiukroan_vp on pinterest 💙

full throttle.

summary. the poor reader is the only one left remaining in her pathetic, ragtag group. cw. solotraveler, tad bit bloodthirsty!ellie x fem!reader, wlw, not really story canon, death, detailed murder/murder spree, blood, wounds, organs, and reunion. wc. 2,020 cr. images from pinterest. notes. sorry for the like… two month's absence lmao. tlou gameplay is rather cool so I wanted to write something about it. The apartments are different. ruhroh. anyway, i had fun writing this. her dead eyes look has me in a lil chokehold. disc. hey now instrumental earbuds recommended 01 / 02 / AO3

She killed them all, one by one.

People that you were associated with, even if you weren't as torn from their eventual demise, it was how quickly it all went to shit, that startled you. This one specific person of thin stature capable of brutally ending the lives of others in such a short amount of time left you baffled and it undeniably gripped your heart with fear of being her next victim. Her approach was aggressive and oppressive, it was as if you were on her playground, one of many to be unfortunate enough to be the next group to step their toes into her territory.

Each breath you withdrew wavered, and your thoughts were nerve-wracking, it spun at a fast pace equivalent to a revolver's cylinder rotating with no signs of stopping. Dread was a sentiment that has long ago been somewhat dulled through years of experience against the infected, adrenaline and stress were the most prevalent variables.

But this woman– this woman forcibly tugged it back to the surface without even being aware of your existence. 

The small group you were in was struggling to come together, the man who took the reins, even though it was unspoken, did it out of necessity, he did his best to keep the group positive rather than at odds with each other. But considering the eight people in your group and how they are, that man was surely left to rot in the slightest inconvenience when he went out to search for supplies with four other people. No matter how much you asked about what happened, their vague explanation departed an unsettling weight on your chest. 

Internally, you knew that something ill-fated happened that wasn't by the wretched, blood-drenched mouths of the infected– or maybe it was, just that they put him in a horrible position for it to happen. But you'll never know the exact details now, because they're all dead. 

They intended to move where the group lives today, and along the way, in Downtown Seattle, a small coin on the road dimly shined like any other, an opportunity to coerce this young woman to surrender her weapons and backpack to us.

And with nature inherently flourishing across Downtown Seattle over time, this Capitol Hill gas station in particular was no exception to it either. The inside of the gas station had bloodstained, dirty, shattered tiles with the owners of said blood missing their lower half, their organs splayed out onto the flooring, and one other unfortunate soul had their throat brutally slit and chest shanked. 

Some died the regular way, a bullet through their head or throat when they least anticipated it. She hastily retreats to cover every time she'd successfully end someone, it only took a few seconds again for someone to run into her trap once more, that or they were foolishly out in the open, gunned down by her Bolt-Action Rifle or her silencer.

You felt an overwhelming sense of cowardice and uselessness when you hid away after witnessing six out of the eight other people present get slaughtered, exploded, and stabbed with no remorse. You regret deciding to stay with this group, you should have taken off after the leader died weeks ago.

You dreaded to see even an inch of that auburn hair or any sighting of the hand-crafted trap mine premeditatedly planted on the ground. 

You stayed low to the ground, your sweaty palms grasped the grip of the pistol intensely, your shoulders ached, and the two other people remaining in your group were communicating with one another, in search of that one person. You were hidden behind a car on the other side of the street in front of the gas station, peeking your head up to watch the others try and kill her. You felt pity for her when it seemed like it was in your group's favor at the beginning, deciding not to look at the woman to instead look into the cars for anything to pass the time,  you didn't want to do that to her but.. It's never quite fair in the apocalypse.

In your peripheral vision, you see a figure rise from the roof of the building, throwing something down at the last remaining people's feet, detonating immediately on impact. A blinding flash and a loud bang rang through your ears despite not being too close to it. Gargled screams stole your attention, during the few seconds of smoke in the air, you can see that same figure riding the man’s back, impaling their chest and then into the side of their neck, the body falls to the ground with a harsh thud.

The last man standing eventually gained his senses after being disoriented for a brief moment, with no hesitation he turned around and tackled her from behind, the switchblade she had in her left hand rammed into his thigh, the scene was harrowing to watch, his cries of anguish and guttural groans rose in volume when she twisted it before pulling it back out only to repeat the actions. He released her after she jabbed him a third time, before he could move his foot towards her again, she shot him in the forehead, the bullet silenced by the empty plastic water bottle on the muzzle of the pistol.

That brought you out of your blanked-out mind, why were you just watching, frozen in your place? 

Grass lightly crunched beneath your feet as you measured every step you made, silently attempting to retreat from your hiding spot as soon as possible while she was preoccupied looting their corpses. 

Your head was on a swivel, consistently turning to the left to see if she was still searching the bodies up until you made a right turn, going from crouching to standing,  making every reluctant step you make forward have you sweating, the soles of the weight of your shoes on the green grass felt like that was enough to give away your position. You stuck close to the walls of the building. After a small, handful of minutes passed, vacant apartments were what your eyes landed on, your steps grew rushed as the desire to just disappear far away from that woman increased. The pressure you felt started to wane, silence engulfing the atmosphere. Your speed-walking pace went to a jog, heading towards the entrance of the building. 

The edges of your lips twitched as you reached the doors, twisting and pushing the door knobs, opening them up until it was ajar was when the loud pop of a bullet penetrating the wood above you, leaving it splintered and small pieces of it dropped onto your head, your nervous system was shook, fright rushed through your bloodstream, your body moving faster than your thoughts, another shot rang through the area, right where your head was if your movements were delayed by a thread. You slammed the doors shut, shoving your pistol into its holster, your feet shuffled hurriedly to push whatever was nearby onto the entrance. The door knobs jiggled and the doors thudded with what you assumed was the woman striving to barge in.

“I Know you’re in there!” Even through the wood, her winded words were wrapped in a belligerent tone of voice. 

Booking it, you run past the front desk, the walls are caked in dust, and the air smells stale. The sound of hard thuds was washed out by your heartbeat pulsing in your ears, and when you opened the break room, shutting the door behind you, looking for anything that could help you get away. But time was of the essence because footsteps that moved at a slow stride reached your ears through the wooden door.

How the hell did she get in already?

There was nothing of utmost relevance that would aid you in your predicament, and the clock ticked at an unnecessary rate. 

The footsteps outside the break room stopped, your head snapping to glance at the knob that was silently turning, the click of the door unlocking was quiet– that was when you acted without thinking, survival instincts gripped your body, and you swallowed your fear.

As the door was pulled back enough to be ajar, you sprinted and slammed yourself onto the door, knocking the woman on the other side back, her back hitting the wall‐ but you were onto her, trying not to give her a second to regain her composure considering how fast she is in doing so.

Her switchblade was the first thing that met you when you attacked her, her swing was fast enough to slice your cheek. 

“Ugh!” Your head flinched, and the moment of weakness let her fist collide with your stomach, resulting in you being stunned enough to drop to your knees, when you saw the tip of the switchblade shine in your peripheral, aiming for your jugular, the hairs on your neck stood, your hands jutting out to grab her arm, trying to dislodge the switchblade from her crimson-soaked hands, the same hand that punched your stomach grabbed the back of your head by your hair, pulling your head back.

“Stop!” You plead, eyes wide. “You made me–” The only thing you heard from the other young woman was heavy breathing that bordered on growls with how hard she was inhaling and exhaling. And in the midst of your scuffle, pale green eyes met your own.

Her pupils dilate when they find your eyes, they flicker up and down your face, intaking every detail, the constraint she enforced upon you, although indistinctly, was eased. You can tell by her demeanor that if you try doing anything, the perplexity between you will dissipate, and her pitiless efforts of killing you will continue until you are deceased.

Harsh breathing was the only sound that played like a broken record.

Scarlet fluid in a splattered manner appeared to be across the entirety of her face and upper half, built-up dirt underneath her short nails and a pitch black shirt with white text partially veiled by grime and blood, a testament to the carnage she was capable and fully willing to participate in furthermore.

She muttered something incomprehensible under her breath, the agitation in her face faltered as the period of time-stretched. For you, your eyes remained wide, a tiny spark of possibilities imbued you. At first, her words were a tentative whisper, unsure if her thoughts were in fact correct.

“Y/N..?” 

“Yes, yes, Ellie..” You swallow, your throat gently bobbing, the stinging pain on your cheek making the situation feel more substantial. Your answer was what made her hold on to your hair to finally be freed, her hands falling to her sides. Her hunched posture over you slowly withdrew to her fully standing. The atmosphere between you two shifted as relief washed the both of you down akin to a tidal wave whilst you moved to stand up, her green eyes watching over the twitch and pinch of your facial expressions. 

“How… I.. I didn't know that it was you.” She shook her head vaguely, regret overtaking her as she stared at the blood trickling down your cheek, down to the smooth line of your jawline.

Your back met the wall, and your stomach and cheek ached, but your focus was directed to Ellie. Your feelings about seeing her again after so long were a tad bit muddled. She changed, of course—who wouldn't in the apocalypse? But the massacre you witnessed and now realizing that the person behind it was someone you knew left you astonished. Your curiosity about what happened while the two of you were separated certainly picked at you.

Shaking your head, “It's fine, Ellie.” You said, your chest rising and falling in harmony with hers, the corners of your lips jerked upwards a little out of relief that you seemingly get to live to see another day, that and reuniting with someone you loved.

“You did what you had to do.” 

Ellie licked her lips before she tried to act out her thoughts, but when her hand reached out to touch yours she stopped herself.

this ending was bleh, sorry my ladies.. i got bored near the end D: