#ellie fuckin books it
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Vlad meets Lex. He realizes some things.
Vlad meets Lex Luthor at a gala, and Lex is schmoozing hard.
Lex has heard about Vlad's weirdass business deals, knows something isn't right, and he want whatever untraceable power Vlad's got at his disposal.
Lex has done his research, and knows that Vlad got the equipment for cloning, but that no child was ever announced. So Lex starts bragging, going on and on about Kon and talking about the kid like he's a Thing.
And Vlad, listening to this, has some unfortunate realizations about how he was treating Ellie.
So Vlad excuses himself and does some digging of his own, and holy shit do the dead have a lot to gossip about regarding how Superman used to treat the boy, and Vlad...doesn't want to be compared to either of those buffoons.
He's better than both of them combined.
And he's gonna prove it.
He's gonna be the daddest dad that ever dadded.
He'll be way better than Jack, and if he's a better father than Jack then Daniel and Jasmine and Maddie will follow! He just has to learn how to be a good parent.
Easy.
He proceeds to buy every parenting book he can find, and signs himself up for parenting classes.
Ellie, minding her own business, feels a shiver go down her back.
#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp x dc#dc x dp#story prompt#phanfic#vlad's obsession has switched from wooing maddie with money to wooing her with good parenting skills#redemtion fic#vlad slowly starts to have his obsession switch from maddie to just being a good father#ellie fuckin books it#various justice league members have seen a dracula-esque man chasing a white haired kid through their cities#the only one who could have feasibly done anything was J'onn#he read teh general vibe of “LET ME FATHER YOU” and decided to leave it alone#he did tell batman though#maybe he and that strange dracula meta can bond#the man could use more friends
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okay just hear me out modern au where tommy ends up picking up ellie from pre school almost everyday since joel is busy but he keeps meeting teacher maria
okay bestie as a preschool teacher you GOT me with this one. like you got me SO GOOD. this might actually get published to ao3, you got me soooo fuckin’ good right now. i have so many unnecessary details for such a simple plot so here’s a cut
tbh i feel like even as busy as joel is, he’d prioritize picking up and dropping of sarah as much as he can, so maybe he and tommy would alternate???? so on days when tommy drops off, joel picks up and when joel drops off, tommy picks up. sarah goes to a public preschool with a lot of kids, so she gets easily overwhelmed and sometimes needs extra cuddles or kind words in the mornings to make it out of the car.
one monday, a couple months into school, sarah is particularly VERY anxious because there’s a new teacher to replace ms. doherty, who quit unexpectedly on friday “because she said we gave her alooooottt of headaches, daddy.” now, sarah knows nothing about the new teacher except that shes a girl from a place called new york—and sarah doesn’t even know what new yawk IS like, thats So Far Away??? (“it’s not really that far, baby,” joel says to her. “and it’s new york. with an o sound.”) still, sarah is VERY concerned:
is new yawk like another planet???? (no, babygirl.) but what if she’s an alien???? (the school only hires human teachers, baby. they promised.) but what if she’s a SECRET alien??? (she won’t be, i promise.) okay but what if she’s mean???? (if she is, you tell me or tommy and we’ll talk to her about it, okay? she shouldn’t be mean to you.) what if she doesn’t play good music at quiet time???? (you can ask her nicely and i bet she will, baby. just say please and thank you, okay?)
still, even with her questions answered, sarah is very nervous on monday. both joel and tommy go with her in an effort to start her day off extra good, especially because joel can’t pick her up. they reassure her that new york has plenty of nice people and her new teacher will probably be one of them. she also gets TWO WHOLE extra minutes of cuddle time with BOTH of them before she and daddy have to leave the car—it’s half for her and half for them, because they’re honestly pretty anxious for her to like her new teacher too
joel is the one to hold sarah’s hand and walk her inside, because the school prefers only one guardian to drop off at a time. tommy’s nervous, but joel actually seems pretty pleased when he gets back to the car with no sarah in tow. surprisingly, he’s back faster than any time they’ve ever dropped sarah off before. with a proud smile, he tells tommy is that miss maria seems really nice. more importantly, she’s Black, which joel says Sarah got really excited about. tommy pries for more details, and he’s glad he does: apparently miss maria has locs, a few even blue and purple, and the first thing sarah’d said to her was an emphatic “����😍🤩 i like your hair!!!!!!!!,” to which she had responded “thank you! i like your hair! what’s your name, sweets?” and that’d been that
later, when tommy does pickup that day, he doesn’t know what to expect. most times at the end of the day, sarah is super reserved and a bit cranky, eager to get home to finally have time to herself. tommy’s goal is usually to try and get her to at least wave goodbye to her teachers like joel asks—but, more often than not, she opts for reaching for uppies and hiding her face in his chest until they leave.
today??? no. it takes sarah a full two minutes to even notice tommy’s there because her and this drop-dead-fucking-gorgeous woman in a soft-looking lavender pants and blouse set are finishing up a painting at the easel wall. they’re working on what looks like a brown and purple butterfly, probably the most carefully shaped sarah’s ever made.
tommy’s heart stops when this goddess miss maria finally looks over at him and smiles with perfect pearly-whites, waving him over behind sarah’s back. when she says “sarah honey, i think someone’s here for you!” in her sing-songy toddler-tone, tommy swears an angel gets his wings. sarah turns around, shrieks with joy upon seeing him, and runs down to him with her arms out, yelling all the while: “THOMMYYYYYYY!!!!!”—because sarah’s still working on her hard ts—“thommy!!!! thommy thommy thommy come look!!! i made a butterfly for u!!!!! look!!!!! it matches ms. maria!!!!!! it’s gorgeous!!!!” (she’s been obsessed with calling things gorgeous ever since she heard tommy say it about a harley motorbike last week. joel especially thinks it’s cute, especially because of how she over-emphasizes the j-sound: gor-Jus.)
tommy’s never seen her so excited to show her art off at pickup-time before; usually, she waits until they’re home and she’s feeling less shy to start showing off, but she’s babbling and pointing to it as he picks her up and sets her on his hip: “it’s brown and purple like miss maria!!! isnt it so gorgeous, unca thommy??? do you like it???? aren’t they SO gorgeous????”
and now miss maria is looking at him. and he’s looking at her. tommy knows he’s blushing, and he hesitates—which sarah does NOT appreciate, so she says: “unca tommy!!!!!!! don’t be WUDE! thell miss maria she’s gorgeous!!! she is!!!”
luckily, miss maria saves him by explaining, in a slightly firmer teaching voice: “sarah sweets, that’s okay! we’re only just meeting, and that’s not really something you say to a stranger, okay?”
“but why noooooooot?? you are gorgeous! like my butterfly! isn’t she so gorgeous, thommy?”
“well, yeah, of course,” tommy agrees easily, because she obviously is—and shit. now miss maria is looking at him like he’s a fucking bonehead, because he obviously fucking is. “but—uh, i mean—she’s right, hon’. you gotta listen to your teacher, and that’s not somethin’ you say to a stranger, okay?”
but then, after thinking to her tiny self for a few seconds: “well if she stays my teacher then she’s not a stranger, is she???” sarah asks tommy, then turns her conniving little head towards maria, too. “and you said you’d stay! so can he say you’re gorgeous tomorrow?” then, without waiting for an answer, she’s back towards tommy to finish: “i think you should call her gorgeous tomorrow.”
“i think we should go home, s’what i think,” tommy says, finally deciding to save himself from four-year-old torment. he sets sarah down and pats her on the end with a gentle but firm request to go get her stuff from her cubby, which she goes to do without her complaints of being too tired to walk. maria watches them closely with a close-lipped but relaxed grin. when sarah’s out of earshot, he apologizes. “sorry ‘bout that, ma’am.”
“don’t be,” miss maria teases, crossing her arms. “you did call me gorgeous, after all. i’ve had worse introductions.”
“tommy miller,” he offers, moving to shake her hand. he notices her nails are done-up, a sparkly blend of pretty shades of purple that look tie-dyed on somehow. her hands aren’t soft, not really, but they’re smooth enough to make him shiver as he pulls away. “sarah’s uncle.”
“oh, i know,” she reassures, then nods her head pointedly towards sarah. the little one is coming back towards them with her lunchbox in one hand and her water bottle in the other, walking extra careful so she doesn’t trip over herself like she did last week, tommy guesses. clearly fond, maria continues. “she spent all day telling me about you and her daddy. you’re doing great with her.”
“unca thommy! i’m ready to go!” sarah sing-songs, interrupting whatever miss maria might’ve said next. internally, tommy thanks his niece—the you’re doing great was already enough to make him cry, and he’d rather not do so in front of either her or her amazing new teacher. plopping her lunch and bottle at tommy’s feet, sarah gives not one, but two eager waves to miss maria, hands flapping madly up towards the woman’s face. “bye miss mariaaaaa!!!! i’ll see you tomorrow!!!!”
“bye sarah sweets!” maria says back, waving just as enthusiastically. to tommy, she raises an amused, teasing eyebrow. just loud enough for him to hear as he turns away, he hears her say “bye, gorgeous,” and laugh, giving yet another angel a pair of wings.
it takes everything in him to not fall straight to the floor, toppling his own precious niece, right then. he doesn’t think he even breathes until both he and Sarah are secured in the car, him in the front and her in her carseat. she’s already babble singing mary j. blige’s “just fine,” which they usually play and sing on their way home from school to help her regulate. when he plays the song this time, sarah smiles bright at him through the rearview and says “i already feel just fine, unca tommy!!! but can we still play it, just for fun?”
“of course, baby,” he says, and start singing along with her. he’s feeling just fine, too.
🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾
tagging some homies (btw just let me know if u wanna be tagged in this kinda stuff or not guys! im never sure lol): @becomethesun @clickergossip @boilingcowboy @bumblepony
#tbh i might edit this and put it on ao3#im so sorry i didnt get ti the falling in love part at all but i LOVE a good meet-cute#*to#and this is i think my favorite one i’ve put on this blog???????#anon. bestie. you did so well i love u thank u#if yall didnt know already im a preschool teacher so#and have i dreamed abt a rich hot younger single parent/gaurdian falling in love with me???? you fuckin betcha#preschool au#im 100% gonna try to connect this with the one rose and i already made#idk where ellie is in here but she’s here!!!! she loves miss maria too!#miss maria loves kids and especially loves embracing neurodiversity and all the different ways kids brains works#miss maria provides brain breaks and shows you how to do body checks to check in with your body#miss maria understands the importance of diversity in her book and media selection#miss maria recommends tab time and bluey#tommy x maria#tlou au#the tipsy bison#ugh I LOVE THISSSSSS BROOOO IM PROUD OF THIS 🫶🏾#yeas i have plans for tess and joel YOU BET I DO#when ur kids having play dates turns into u dating their mom#tess and joel: who am i gonna date??? i have no time. im a parent#ellie and sarah: hold my juicebox#like theyre fully setting them up with no clue that they’re doing it I LOVE MY LITTLE GIRLS#she calls them sarah sweets and ellie enchanted#she’s referencing ella enchanted but elie doesnt care about that so she explains it means ellie is magic#and ellie is down for that because in her brain magic equal dragon. ellie LOVES dragons#sarah miller#toddler sarah#baby sarah#neurodivergent miller tag
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Nick Valentine, the Detective Archetype, and the Mettle of a Man
If you browse social media, chat to your friends, brave what old-school forums are left or plunge into comments of various subreddits, you will find a fair amount of people who truly, earnestly enjoyed Fallout 4. It has been the subject of numerous (earned) critiques regarding everything from its convoluted story to its oversimplification of once interesting game mechanics. This isn’t an essay that focuses on those elements, numerous though they are, but something I noticed as I did my best to grapple with the unwieldy main plot and the significantly better Far Harbor.
If you gather a crowd of people who have played the game and ask ‘how many of you had a great time?’ some people, by merit of how taste works, will happily raise their hand. That I’m writing this at all is a sign that, for all the faults I found, I genuinely engaged with it in a way I didn’t expect to as I (apparently a lawyer) slogged through the opening with my assigned soldier husband and Apple-Cheeked Infant You Will Love. In that respect, I suppose, I’m raising my hand.
If you peruse those same places, with the same people, and ask ‘how many of you really liked Nick Valentine?’
The number of hands up will be significantly higher.
In fact, it isn’t uncommon for people who didn’t enjoy any part of Fallout 4 to instinctively throw in a ‘Nick was cool’. But, as somebody who agrees, why is that? He’s got a lot of cool elements, sure. He’s a wisecracking robot detective. He has the most fleshed out backstory of any companion and, come Far Harbor, is the deuteragonist. Stephen Russel delivers an incredible vocal performance. He has a sick-ass fuckin’ detective name. What’s not to like? But he isn’t just a well-liked character in a game with many failings, he’s one of the most beloved characters in the entire franchise. That takes some doing. So how the hell did they do it?
Valentine is a character defined by contrasts; man to machine, past to future, ‘me’ to ‘not me’ and, less obviously, 'archetype’ to ‘antithesis’. Nick Valentine is both a stereotypical gumshoe, the hardboiled detective of the neo-noir setting of Fallout 4, and every element of what makes up that stereotype turned completely on its head. He is, and is not, what he claims to be. He is noir and neo-noir. He shouldn’t be well-written. But, by accident or miracle, he is.
He is, and is not, Nick Valentine.
Let’s pull back a little and talk about noir, detectives, and detectives in noir:
The role of The Detective isn’t to solve crimes in the seedy underbelly of whatever city he lives in, seducing dames and cracking wise as he goes toe to toe with gangsters. That’s the window dressing. Press your cheek up against the glass and squint a little and you’ll make out a murkier shape, something that wraps around all the others like chiffon. It accentuates, highlights, is easily overpowered by the glitzy parts it surrounds. It is vital to the context of what makes or breaks a noir detective yet makes an effort to avoid your scrutiny. It is, and is not, the point.
The role of a detective is to suffer.
Put on the jazz, grab a scotch and look forlornly out the sharply-lit shutters at your window, this’ll be a long one! So let’s start at the start.
‘Noir’ is something of a fuzzy term. You could ask a few people and get a slightly different answer from each of them and find none are wrong. Often people conflate ‘noir’, a genre with particular themes, motifs and framing with ‘hardboiled’, a genre of crime fiction with often very similar themes, motifs and framing. If it stars a detective battling crime and a corrupt legal system, it’s hardboiled. If he does those things and having three different sorts of Dutch angle breakdowns about the hopeless failings of human nature, it’s probably both.
So what the hell is up with noir, anyway?
It’s a style of filmmaking that spawned in the 40s. The term was coined by critic Nino Frank some time in the late 1940s but didn’t see popular use until the 70s. What we, looking back, would call ‘noir’ would at the time be ‘melodrama’.
But what is it?
Well, the world’s on fire, the staff on your movies are refugees fleeing horrific conflict and everything feels hopeless. The good guys you knew aren’t as good as you’d hoped they’d be, and the criminals aren’t bad enough to make hating them an easy job. Circumstances are murky. Everything is terrible, and it might get better, but for now we’re stuck. The systems in place are hopelessly cruel, suffering is as endless as it is needless. And glittering on top there’s the glitz and glamour of celebrity, the nouveau riche, a booming entertainment industry of stars and crooners, fresh paint on an asbestos wall that’s choking out everybody. And when you get down to it, what’s ‘good’ and ‘bad’ in an awful place like this, anyways? Do those distinctions exist? Hell, should those distinctions exist? Those questions, and what transpires as a result of those questions, that’s noir.
I believe the deliberate push towards neo-noir in Fallout 4 (the gumshoe, the newsie, working cases, the plot focus on a missing person, feelings of loss and paranoia) was a fantastic opportunity, completely keeping within the setting, mostly frittered away by poor writing.
And this hard-boiled gumshoe, this private detective, marooned from every point of contact, is not a mandatory component of a noir. But such a character is a perfect lightning rod through which to conduct these difficult questions. So this Detective character, who the hell is he, anyway? What’s his deal, what’s he about? Note that every instance of ‘Detective’ refers to the specific instance found in American crime fiction from the 20s to 50s. If you can imagine Humphrey Bogart then, yes, it’s that guy.
1) The Detective As The Outcast
The Detective is at odds with the public (who don’t trust him until they need him), the police (who are hopelessly corrupt street gangs with better hats), and the criminal underworld (who at least aren’t cops). The Detective, aside from a few specific touchstones (a distant friend, an ex-colleague, an in with a don), is adrift. He is not liked, even by himself. He knows just enough of these worlds to meddle. He is smart enough to solve problems, but rarely enough to forestall problems.
Nick Valentine has no biological functions. The parts that make up Nick’s body are mass-produced and interchangeable. He can relate to people but only through the memories and experiences of a human being he can’t unshackle himself from. He lives among human beings, dresses like one, but cannot ever be one. He is too obviously mechanical to be confused for a Gen-3 Synth and can find no relief with other mechanical Synths who share his face (bar one, who raises his own set of problems we will return to later.) His memories, personality and speech patterns are based on the brain scan of a clinically depressed pre-war cop utterly ruined by the violent system he upheld. Valentine isn’t just alienated from the people around him, he is alienated from himself in a difference that is, ultimately, irreconcilable. Nick Valentine is Nick Valentine. Nick Valentine is not Nick Valentine. Nick Valentine was not a good guy. Nick Valentine is a good guy. His body is and is not his. His mind is and is not his.
And everybody loves him!
If you walk around Diamond City with Valentine, you can’t go two seconds without some ambient conversation being struck up while you wring Myrna for all the caps she has. Old clients thanking him for help, grateful strangers inviting him to drinks. It’s possible for you to be ambushed by a group of raiders, fend them off and find that they’ve stopped attacking because they recognize Nick. Ellie, his secretary, doesn’t think to mention that he’s a juddering mannequin with peel-away skin and unblinking eyes. He’s just Nick. The most formative event of his life, not the inherited life of a long-dead man, is stumbling into a settlement and being treated like a human being.
Nick is both utterly divorced from the people around him and a passionate champion of them. He is both the alienated man— the jaded, cynical snoop waxing lyrical about the evils men do— and a beloved friend to the people of Diamond City. He is, and is not, the outcast.
2) The Detective As His Own Man
The Detective is the knightly archetype, iron-wrought principles at his own expense. For all the talk, all the compromises made, he is incorruptible. There is good to be done and, unfortunately, he has to be the one to do it. He cannot be bought, sold, bribed or dismissed. The wheel is in motion and will spin in perpetuity until it stops or is made to stop. He is an anti-hero willing to lie, cheat, steal and resort to violence to get the job done. He is a loner and often hard to get along with. He will butt heads with anybody.
Detectives, often, are products of the anxieties of their time. It’s where the femme fatale comes from, the wily temptress who is getting a lot of strange ideas about ‘having agency’. Nick, in turn, is the anxiety of Fallout 4. He is, and is not, part of the Institute. He is one of the greatest fears of the Commonwealth; the possibility that a human mind, abstracted, can be flattened and transplanted and set loose. That memory, personhood, is constructed of building blocks. They can be rearranged.
Nick is that lawful good, justice-at-any-costs archetype.
But Nick is a noir detective who is, crucially, not an anti-hero.
His outlook and personality aren’t just unusual for a gumshoe, it’s downright bizarre. In a genre populated almost entirely by moody, snippy alcoholics, Nick is warm, personable, funny and genuinely optimistic. He’s the most do-good do-gooder to ever do good. That’s not to say he can’t be moody or snippy—he’s certainly sarcastic—but his general demeanour is different compared to a Marlowe, or a Spade. Justice must be done, but not at too great an expense. Murder is sometimes necessary but only sometimes. But Nick’s core issues come from his idea of personhood, the grim reality that Nick Valentine is loaning a name and an outlook. His job is to chafe, to make broader points crystalline and easier to pick up and examine. Nick is, and is not, his own man.
3) The Detective At The End
Noir, traditionally, isn’t the place for happy endings. If you’re watching an old movie and find that the detective has made an honest woman of the femme fatale and they live happily ever after, you are looking at a mandated rewrite. Free of tampering, the best you can hope for is ‘nothing is significantly worse’ and often you won’t even get that. People murder one another for pittances, slights, baubles. A gamble is made. If you win you don’t get anything and if you lose you’ll lose more than you even knew you had. And then you’ll keep losing. And then it’s all over. You sit in a dark room with it, contemplative and miserable and thrilled. Fallout 4 has the much maligned radiant quest system. It doesn’t end until you say it does, for better or for worse. But, working chronologically, there is an end point to Nick’s story in Far Harbor. By merit of it being a video game, you get to pick. Is it tragic in one way or tragic in another? He doesn’t get a happy ending because he’s a noir detective. The confluence of the anxiety of the setting. Incorruptible in a world that can’t allow it. Nick is unusual in that he is nice and sweet and warm. It’s still his job to suffer.
In Far Harbor you meet DiMA, the only person in the world Nick could consider ‘blood’ family. In a moment of vulnerability, Nick leans on the player character for advice and asks them their opinion on what DiMA should be to him. You can push him to accept DiMA as a sibling and initiate a sequence where they begin to forge a fraternal relationship, advise that he doesn’t let DiMA into his life which halts any chance of reconciliation or, crucially, leave Nick to decide for himself. This leads to him accepting DiMA as his brother on his own terms.
DiMA is a complicated, nuanced character in his own right. This is already much too long, so I’ll save the specifics of him for another time. But, in short, he murdered somebody, covered it up and removed his own memories of the murder. He remembers this, is horrified, and prompts you to join him in doing it again. Your player character can refuse to go along with his plan, bully him into confessing to the townspeople and as a result have him executed for the crime he did commit and fully intended on committing again.
If you encouraged Nick, or let him decide what DiMA means to him by himself, he is distraught. He has gained, and lost, family. One of the last dialogue options you get before heading back to the Commonwealth to wrap up the DLC is Nick resentfully admitting that his life is in ruins. He will never recover from this. The Valentine you meet in the Vault and the Valentine that leaves Mount Desert Island are two slightly different people.
He is an archetypical, by-the-books noir detective. He is a noir detective turned entirely on its head. Fallout 4 fumbles its neo-noir through poor writing, baffling story decisions and often a fundamental misunderstanding of its own premise. Fallout 4 contains incredible neo-noir in what may be one of the most compelling detective characters ever put to paper. In a better game, Valentine would be cool. In Fallout 4—and it could only be in Fallout 4—he is incredible.
Valentine is a character defined by contrasts. And Nick’s character, while complex, is simple. And in a game subject to rewrites—retools, re-re-writes, ‘oh Christ it ships tomorrow!’, re-re-re-re-writes to broaden appeal, nukes are pretty cool, what if we put a kid in that fridge?—simple stands out. The core of Nick Valentine, and what makes him so memorable because of the game he’s in, not in spite of it, is this:
Everything is terrible, and it might get better, but for now we’re stuck. But you can’t wait for it to get better to try and do some good.
“You help who needs help. It doesn’t have to be more than that.”
—
Boy, did that run long! You can find my fanart here and, if you liked reading this, my fo4 noir pastiche here. Thanks for reading!
#fallout#fallout 4#fo4#Nick Valentine#Ellie Perkins#DiMA#if you're curious what my favourites of the genre are then the little sister by raymond chandler and double indemnity for the movie pick#you can put literally any chandler book in that first part btw and i'd agree with you. 'yeah that fuckin rips'#gotta love hammett but chandler's prose fuckin RIPSSSSSS laser focused not a word wasted. incredible#double indemnity is. THE movie. THE fuckin movie#ANYWAY robotpostin. robot thots.#boy did this one get out of hand
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i’ve never done this before…
18 + only, please!
ellie x f!loser!reader
a/n: so basically i was on janitor ai because i’m genuinely an addicted freak and this was inspired by a chat i had :3 im also replaying tlou2 bc i cant stop i need it i need it i need it. also i think a LOT more things make sense now, so i think you should replay after u play it.
brief summary: ellie is ur big sister’s best friend! but, unfortunately you’re dubbed an “annoying little sister,” your sister’s not home, ellie’s high when she comes over, and ur a loser nerd who can’t deal with confrontation :(. (au if it wasn’t obvious!)
tw / DUBCON?, ellie is very mean, degrading, praise, pet names, reader is a virgin, small age gap if you really squint, porn without a plot, rushed sex, scissoring (tribbling?), use of y/n i think…
⋆ ˚｡⋆ ꪆৎ ˚
with a grunt, you pulled your pajama pants up the rest of the way. you were headed to the door after hearing seven hard knocks on the door.
“hello—“ you began, cutting yourself off when you see ellie, your sister’s best friend. “ellie?” you glanced behind her, then behind yourself. “she’s not home right now.”
“yeah, yeah,” she slurred, and your lips went into a thin line from her state, so obviously intoxicated. “she told me come ‘n wait. she’s gettin’ her shit rocked, ‘r whatever. she dropped me off ‘ya know? said you wouldn’t mind. you don’ mind, do you?”
being such a caring person had its ups and downs. you weren’t fond of ellie, and she wasn’t fond of you. she had been your biggest bully throughout the entirety of middle and high school. but, you couldn’t deny her entry. she could get hurt or worse, and you didn’t want that. or to be responsible of it.
you adjusted your glasses, eyeing her with a thoughtful look. her eyes were halflidded, red, and she smelled disgusting. she eyed you right back, her stare almost intimidating.
“no, ellie. i don’t mind,” you said begrudgingly, stepping aside to allow her in. you watched her make her way around the all-too-familiar home while you shut the door. you mentally prepared yourself for tending to her needs; you knew she’d tell if you hadn’t. you also prepared for the anger she would inevitably feel. she was an angry person when intoxicated. you leaned against the door and watched her opened the fridge.
“what do you got?” ellie asked, shutting the refrigerator and looking at you. “what’re you gonna make?”
“i don’t know,” you responded and took a glance at the stove. you hadn’t noticed what she took from the fridge, only gasping when you heard the familiar sound of a beer opening. “hey, hey, hey! that’s my dad’s!” you watched ellie shrug and give you a “so what?” look. “stop it, that’s not good for you!” you rushed over, reaching for the beer, but her rough hand kept you in place as she chugged it down. “ellie, stop! you’re already high, that’s gonna make it worse; ellie, stop!”
“and what the fuck do you know?” she asked as she slammed the beer bottle of the counter, “you stupid fuckin’ loser, what the fuck is wrong with you? i’ll do what-the-fuck-ever i want. you’re such a fucking lame-ass, you won’t even take a lil sip o’ this thing,” she stuck the beer can up to your mouth, which you turned away from, “that’s what i thought, you stupid bitch. you’re probably a virgin, too, huh? you don’t even try- nobody even tries for you. no man, no woman, no whatever. never been in a relationship, never been in fuckin’ nothing. you are such a fucking loser.”
your jaw was slack, almost looking like a fish out of water as it tried to shut and open.
“you’re too high for this,” you said slowly, still shocked at her words. you took a step back, your back pressing against the island counter.
“you don’t know the first thing about ‘too high,’ jackass. bet you never had a dick in you before. too busy studyin’ your stupid fucking books to be the good girl you are. can’t even do this because you’re always bein’ a teacher’s pet, always bein’ a goody-two-shoes, know it all, fucking bitch. probably got a few toys like the desperate freak you are. maybe a dildo? nah, you want that pussy t’stay tight, huh?” you thought it couldn’t get worse than the insults before, but this was insane. your eyes were wide, shock filling your features.
“ellie!” you gasped in horror and embarrassment, “i— i’m calling my sister!”
“you’re a fucking snitch!” she giggled, pointing at you. “she doesn’t care what the fuck i’m saying to you. she’s too busy slutting herself out to give a fuck about your pathetic ass, baby.”
“go away, ellie,” you whimpered out, eyes at the ground. you attempted to push past her, but her hands gripped your wrists. “please.”
“you’re not getting rid of me,” she growled, her beer-breath filling your nostrils, “you’re a goddamn joke. i’m not going anywhere ‘til i’m good ‘n ready. you just know i’m right.” she leaned in, her lips brushing your cheek as she whispered deep into your ear, “you just want my hands all over you, don’t you, y/n? i’ve seen how you watched me. you want a real woman’s hands on ‘ya. all of over your pretty body, hm?”
“no,” you whispered right back, your brows furrowed. this was your sister’s best friend. this was just… wrong; you couldn’t explain it, but it wasn’t right. and she was high! she didn’t know what she was doing, what she was saying, but her touch felt so…
“don’t you lie to me,” she huffed her breath hot in your ear, “you wanna get touched bad. you know you do. you want my hands slidin’ down your pretty panties and touchin’ that clit. make you cum all on my hand. you want that, don’t you?”
“ellie,” you almost moaned out at her dirty talk, your brows knitted together in conflict. your hand went to cover your mouth as her hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pjs and simultaneously your underwear.
“let it out, baby,” she told as your hand muffled a broken moan, “you’re already so, so wet for me. this pussy’s just beggin’ for my touch, huh?” her finger-pad ran across your clit and your knees buckled. she giggled in response, a lazy grin plastered on her face. “mm, ya feel that? this’s what y’ve been missin’ out on with all that nerdy bullshit you do.” her fingers slipped easily inside you, making your eyes roll with pleasure; another moan escaped your throat. “y’so tight. just like i thought.” she pulled her fingers out, quickly giving them a lick before tugging your bottoms down. “oh, baby…” she moaned at the sight, licking her lips as she took you in. “look at that pretty pussy. mhm, ‘n all f’r me, huh?” she knelt down, getting face to face with your cunt. “answer me.” she kissed at your inner thighs. all you could do was watch, trembling under her dominating touch.
you yelped, jumping in surprise as she bit your thigh harshly.
“i said answer.”
“y-yes! all for you, ‘s all for you,” you whimpered, whining as her mouth finally met with your drooling pussy. your resolve had slipped away, only thinking about that needy, touch-starved vulva of yours. “oh, ellie…” she grinned as she watching you come undone, your fingers slipping into her hair and tugging at it. she lapped and lapped at your clit, tongue running circles around the sensitive bud. she gave it a last kiss before she pulled away, smirking at your distress.
“preview, baby. all that was. go to your room, m’followin’ you.”
you were anxious to walk, taking just a moment before giddily rushing to your room. the masculine woman easily followed your direction, shutting the door hard behind her as she pulled you down to the bed with her. her hands were immediately on you as you lay atop her, caressing and running down your back, cupping your ass and squeezing.
“you’re so ready for me baby, aren’t you?” she asked with a small smirk playing at her lips. “you wanna grind that pretty pussy on mine, don’t you?”
“i-i’ve never done this before, i-i don’t know what to do,” you admitted, although she already knew your circumstance.
“makin’ me do all the work, you pretty lil pillow princess?” she teased, that same lazy grin on her face. she easily flipped you over, watching your eyes widen in surprise. “god, how are you so perfect…” she moaned softly to herself, her hands running down your sides, down your legs, and down your calves. she reached her jeans, unbuttoning them and tugging them down quickly. you gulped as you eyed her pubic mound, her dark hair trimmed finely.. she lifted your hips up, appreciating your vulva once more. she used her thumb to lift up your clitoral hood, bending down to meet the pearl with her tongue. “mm, god, i can’t get enough of you. pull your shirt up, wanna see those tits ‘ve been wantin’ to see.” you did as you were told, quickly pulling your nightshirt up and showing her your breasts. a groan left her throat as her hands reached out to touch them, tweaking and rolling your nipples between her fingers.
“please,” you whined, your head tilted back. “please, ellie…”
“oh, i know you’re so needy, huh? never done this before? never been touched so good by another girl b’fore, huh?” ellie teased once more, and all you could do was nod. it was all true. “say it, baby. tell me how much of a loser you are.”
with an embarrassed grimace, you obliged, “i-i’m a big loser. ‘ve never, ever gotten laid ‘n i wanna… oh!” you gasped as you felt the sensation of her pussy meet yours. “ellie…” her hips ground against yours, your clits bumping and running across each other.
“you like this? my pussy all over yours?” she growled, rolling her hips to meet your cunt. “fuck, you’re so wet.” you moaned out, your hands trying to find a place to stay as they flailed. they gripped the sheets and you watched above as her pussy slid across yours. you both glistened with a thin layer of sweat, your bodies becoming hot with arousal. “you feel so fucking good.”
“yes,” you cried, “more.” and she gave you more, her hips rolling with fervor while you writhed in pleasure. “p-please— ellie!”
“yeah, scream my name you little slut,” she purred, her auburn hair sticking to her sweaty face. “let ‘em know— let the neighbors know you’re finally getting laid.”
you continued to moan her name, completely drunk on this feeling. she let out small little ‘just like that’s’ as your voice echoed off the walls of your room.
it was intense, your bodies moving together and so perfectly in sync. sweat dripped from her forehead onto your belly, slightly coating your skin. her hands gripped your chest as she ground against you, the position slightly awkward, but pleasing nonetheless as your heats mushed together in symphony. sloppy squelches filled your ears, almost drowned out by your moans and cries as she took you.
“i’m gonna,” you began, tears welling up in your pretty eyes, “i’m gonna cum, ellie!”
“yeah? right on my pussy? cum right on my pussy, baby,” she moaned, her hands reaching her cup her own breast. you moaned, following her command like a dog as your canal contracting around nothing, costing her slick folds in all your essence. your body convulsed as you came, and the sight forced a moan out of her throat. “yeah, that’s it, my good girl, fu—ck… i’m cumming!” with her orgasm following in suit, she gripped your leg hard, riding out her orgasm as you tried to come down from your own. you whined from the overstimulation, feeling her arousal spread out on your flesh. she shushed you, her index finger on your lips as she calmed her breathing. she dropped your leg, plopping beside you with a grunt.
“t-that was good,” you said to her, your eyes lingering on her glistening face.
“mhm, now you get to brag to a—ll your nerdy, little virgin friends that you,” she jabbed a finger, “got laid.”
“you’re mean,” you huffed, a little pout on your face. she smirked, bringing a hand to the back of your neck and bringing you in to kiss.
“yeah?” she chuckled, “but you like it.”
#tlou2#tlou x reader smut#tlou smut#tlou x reader#lesbian#ellie tlou2#ellie williams x reader#ellie tlou x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie smut#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams the last of us#ellie x reader#ellie the last of us#ellie x fem reader#ellie#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie x reader smut#ellie x you#ellie tlou2 x reader#bisexual#hybridirl .𖥔 ݁ ˖#tlou2 smut#ellie williams x reader smut#tlou2 x reader smut#ellie x y/n#ellie tlou x reader smut#the last of us smut#the last of us x reader
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Bath & Body Works
Mall Rats 2! Can be read alone. But if you want-- read Mall Rats 1 here
Summary: You'll drag Joel kicking and screaming into your bubble bath if it's the last thing you do.
A/N: I am stoked about this one!
Warnings: smut, fingering, handjobs, oral sex (f receiving), rubber ducky, joel is extra cranky, dirty talk, forced bubble bath with a grumpy old man, soapy tiddies, rubber duckies, country apple scented bubble baths
WC: 3.2k
You’re going through your bag of goodies from your first trip to the mall with Joel. You’ve got your undies and bras from Victoria’s Secret, along with some candles and stuff from Bath and Body Works.
You would have picked out more, but Joel was throwing a bitch fit about how you were taking too long to pick out body sprays and whatnot.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…just fuckin’ pick one already. They all smell like chemicals and girl. I’m gettin’ a migraine.”
“From all the smells?”
“No. You.” You ignored him and searched for body wash to match your body sprays and lotions. “C’mon. Shake a leg, sweetheart.”
“I need body wash. I can’t find it.”
“Here” Joel grabbed a random ass bottle, shoved it in your bag, wrapped his hand around your forearm and dragged your ass out of Bath and Body Works. “It’s all the same shit anyway.”
Now you’re pulling out that random ass bottle of what Joel had deemed as the same shit as body wash. And it’s not the same shit. At all.
Relaxing Bath Bubbles
Country Apple
Awh, shit. Guess you’re about to give Joel another migraine.
You walk over to his house and knock on his door, your backpack full of your Bath and Body Works goodies. Rubber duckies too. You snagged them from a broken claw machine in the mall.
Knock knock knock knock knock
“Joel, open up.”
You knock some more. Joel opens the door clad in nothing but plaid boxers, his eyes squinting and his hair wild. “The fuck do you want?”
“Need to use your bathroom,” you say. “Now. It’s an emergency.”
Joel raises an eyebrow. “Why? You know what, I don’t wanna know. Just make it quick.”
He’s perplexed, but he leads you to his ensuite bathroom anyway. He says Ellie’s bathroom downstairs is heinous. You enter the bathroom and shut the door, and Joel lays on his bed as he scribbles in his book of crossword puzzles.
The first thing you notice about Joel’s bathroom is how nice it is. Spacious, a deep and wide circular inset bathtub. How he scored this, you don’t know. You strip, leaving your clothes in a pile on the floor then fill up the tub with hot water. You toss your duckies in the water, dump some Country Apple bubble bath in the tub and watch the bubbles emerge, then light your Bath and Body Works candles and turn out the lights.
The water is soothing and the bubbles smell nice. You lean back in the tub and relax, watching your little rubber duckies float through the bubbles.
Only when half an hour goes by does Joel realize something’s up. He’s been stuck on his puzzle for the last ten minutes and completely forgot that you’re in the bathroom. He shuts his crossword puzzle book in frustration, sets it on his nightstand and turns out the light in his room.
The flicker of your candles through the cracks of the bathroom door catches his eye. Confused, he decides to investigate. He’s about to knock on the door when he hears a splash.
Joel doesn’t have time for this. He barges in to find you soaking in his tub, surrounded by candles and rubber ducks. He looks like he’s gonna have a conniption fit.
“Oh, finally,” you say excitedly. “Been waiting for you.”
Irritated doesn’t even begin to describe the expression on Joel’s face at how shockingly cavalier you are about bathing in his tub. “The fuck are you doing in here?”
“Using your bathroom.”
“You said it was an emergency.”
“Correct,” you reach for the bottle of apple scented bubble bath and toss it to Joel. “Emergency indeed.”
“We need to go over what constitutes an emergency, then. Because this shit is not an emergency. Not in the slightest.”
“It is, actually,” you counter. “That’s bubble bath. Not body wash. They are not the same.”
Joel looks at you and he’s not sure which of you has a screw loose, but clearly something’s not right here. You fill one of your rubber duckies with water and squirt him on his tummy “The fuck is the matter with you?” he snaps. Joel snatches the toy from your hand and tosses it behind you, so you fill another ducky with water and squirt him again. “Get your ass out of my tub and go home.”
“Take it up with Tommy. My tub’s broken. He said he’d fix it but he never did. He said to use yours.”
“Tommy did not say that.”
“You weren’t there. You don’t know.”
“You know what? M’not doing this. Out. Now,” Joel takes a step forward and reaches his arm through the bathwater to find the drain stopper. You grab hold of his arm, biting your bottom lip as you smile mischievously. Joel glares at you. “Don’t.”
You squeeze his forearm tighter and pull with all of your might. Joel tumbles forward into the bath, water splashes over the edge of the tub and floods the floor below. Joel emerges from the water gasping. “God bless it,” and pushes his hair out of his face, then wipes his eyes and turns to you. The look on his face pierces daggers right through you.
In a ballsy move, before he can stand up and step out of the tub, you slide over and sit your ass on his lap. You lean back to force him against the edge of the tub. “That’s better,” you say. “Need you to be my pillow. Your tub’s uncomfortable as fuck.”
“Not gonna be your anything. Get the fuck out of my tub or so help me god I will–”
“Joel, shut up. I’m trying to relax. And you should too, because you’re kind of a crankerpuss.”
Joel scowls. “Do not call me that.”
“Well, you’re being very hostile right now.”
Oh, he’ll show you hostile alright. You don’t know the first thing about hostility. Joel’s about to pick you up and throw your ass out of the–
Nope. Bad idea.
It’ll make an even bigger mess on the floor. You’re not worth the water damage. And then you’ll slip and fall, crack your skull open and there’ll be blood everywhere. Hiding the body will be Joel’s next step and he’s not in the mood for that. And of course, inevitably, you’ll knock over one of your candles and set Joel’s bathroom ablaze.
So Joel shimmies off his boxers and tosses them over the edge of the tub. They land with a wet plop. He leans back with you still on his lap, accepting his fate as your human pillow.
“Isn’t this nice?” you ask sweetly.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Shut up.”
So you quiet down and settle against Joel’s torso as best you can. Except as the minutes pass, he still won’t relax. He’s stiff as a board. His hands are in fists, resting on either side of his thighs. He’s practicing his deep breaths and going over the serenity prayer in his head. Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
“You seem tense,”
“Mm,” Joel says. “Wonder why. What a mystery this is. I’m stumped, truly.”
“You tend to run hot. You know. Short fuse,”
“You tend to drive me fuckin’ nuts,” he counters. You scoop up some bubbles in your hand, and Joel grabs your wrist and shoves it back underwater. “Knock it off. S’not playtime.”
You turn so you’re facing Joel and straddled on his thighs. You lift up on your knees, reaching behind Joel to grab a couple of towels. You drive him nuts, but at least he’s getting a nice view of your soapy tits. Pros and cons.
You fold the towel and set it behind Joel to support and cushion his neck. “Is this nicer?” you ask.
“It’d be nice if you weren’t here. See enough of ya already.”
“Get used to it,” you reply. “Got a whole lotta mall left to explore.”
“Don’t remind me.”
You don’t bother responding. Instead, you reach for a rag and a bar of soap and begin to lather it. You lift Joel’s arm up and begin scrubbing his skin gently.
“Quit it,” he snaps, yanking the rag from you. “Washed earlier.”
Your feelings are a little hurt and you frown. “I’m trying to be nice.”
“Don’t need you to be nice to me. Need you to get out of my house. Now finish your bath.”
You grab the bar of soap again, this time without the rag. You lather it between your hands and reach for Joel’s arm once more, this time putting more emphasis on massaging him and less on cleaning.
This, he seems more receptive to. He lets out a little sigh and his head falls back on the towel you folded for him. You massage down his arm, letting your fingers squeeze and work his biceps, then his forearm, the palm of his hand and even his fingers. Your hand accidentally nudges his half hard cock, but he doesn’t startle or move you away.
You’re thinking about his cock. You haven’t really seen it, hardly felt it. In a seamless transition, your hand leaves Joel’s and you reach between your bodies to play with his member. He grows hard with your touch, you can feel it. In your palm, he’s thick, heavy, and long. You trace your finger over the prominent vein that climbs up his length.
Joel sighs and reaches for your hand that’s working his shaft. “What are you doin’,” he sighs.
“Rub-a-dub-dubbing you.”
You think your eyes deceive you as a flicker of a smirk graces Joel’s face. It’s gone in an instant, but you saw it. You’ll have to alert the media.
“Charming,” he mumbles.
You continue massaging his member. You’re thankful that the bubble bath led you to this moment here with Joel, but disappointed that the bubbles are hindering your view. You slide your hand up and down, letting your thumb swipe over his swollen tip.
“Feel good?”
“S’good, honey. Yeah, so fuckin’ good. Keep it up.”
Joel’s leaning into it now. Melting like a candle. Eyes fluttered shut, lips slightly parted as a symphony of curses and pretty noises escape his mouth.
“Fuck, darlin’. Squeezin’ me s’good.”
His chest is rising and falling unsteadily. The flickering candlelight bounces off of his skin and gives his face a warm glow. He’s got both hands on the globes of your ass cheeks, sliding over the expanse of skin. Up your waist and down your thighs, loving every inch of your body.
You lean forward and hold onto his shoulder with your free hand while you stroke him with your other. You dip your head lower to kiss and nip at his jaw and neck. His skin is warm and fragrant like the bubble bath.
One of Joel’s hands slither between your bodies and he cups your mound. His fingers reach lower to trace lazy circles into your clit. You pump him faster as he plays with you, soft breaths and groans falling from his lips. “Y’got it, sweetheart. Just like that. Just like–ohh, fffuck.” He squeezes your ass tight as he finds his release, his body tensing and twitching under your touch. He lets out deep and guttural groans, music to your ears.
He’s coming down from his high, still mindlessly tracing your pussy with his thick fingers. You’re watching as his breathing slows. He’s finally relaxed. And they said it couldn’t be done!
And just then, one of your little rubber duckies floats between you and Joel. The duck wears a mischievous smile. It’s like it’s thinking what you’re thinking.
Subtly, oh so subtly, you reach for the ducky and squeeze it, then open your fist slightly and let it fill up. Joel’s eyes are still closed and he’s breathing peacefully as you hold the duck level with his face. You squeeze the ducky once more, and a thin stream of water squirts from the duck’s beak and onto Joel’s cheek. Got his ass.
Joel opens his eyes slowly, his previously soft expression now harsh and irritated. Joel reaches for the duck. “You squirt me with that thing one more time…” he takes it from your hand, “Watch what happens.”
You bite back a smile.
“Keep it up,” Joel growls. “Now sit back down and spread your legs. Water’s gettin’ cold.”
He’s got a soft spot for you, believe it or not. His brain is telling him to kick your country apple scented ass out the door, but his heart’s telling him to let you stay a while longer. He is a gentleman with principles, after all. A lady should always finish.
“Wider,” he says. “Open up.”
He uses his strong, masculine hands to grip your thighs and spread them apart, but he doesn’t have to do anything. You oblige to his request immediately. He toys with your clit, circling and swirling his fingers over the sensitive bud before dipping his middle finger inside of you and chuckling. “Hmm,” he hums. “Selective hearing.”
“What?”
“Nothin’,” he mumbles. “Just think it’s funny how ya only listen t’me when you’ve got my hand or my cock between your thighs.”
You answer him with a soft moan and scoot closer to him, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck as he pumps his finger inside you, feeling how warm and wet you are.
“So this is what it’s gonna take, hmm? To get you to be a good girl for me?”
“More,” you breathe.
Joel inserts a second finger and you gasp. “Jesus, girl. M’gonna get carpal tunnel tryna get you to behave yourself.”
“Carpal what-el?”
“Don’t worry about it, pretty girl. S’nothin’.”
You whimper as his thumb swipes your clit and his fingers pump inside you. You hold his shoulders for stability as you grind your pelvis against his palm, rocking the water all over the place, over the tub. The waves bounce high and into Joel’s mouth, he’s annoyed as he spits out some bubbles. You may have overfilled the tub.
“Y’need to sit still,” he says. “Makin’ a goddamn mess.”
“Sorry,” you rasp.
But the splashing continues. Joel gets an idea then. He pulls his hand away from your core.
“No,” you whine. “Don’t stop, Joel, please–”
“Lookit that, usin’ your manners. Bein’ so nice,” Joel praises you. “You’re fine,” he coos softly. “Not goin’ anywhere. M’right here with you.”
Joel adjusts a few towels on the tile surrounding the tub, making a nice little bed for you. He lays you on the towel, watching as beads of water fall from your body and your legs dangle in the tub. He pulls you close, then licks one long stripe up your pussy.
“Yeah, that, keep doing that,” you beg.
“Not plannin’ on stoppin,” Joel chuckles, his low voice sending vibrations through your sex. “Gonna take my time with your sweet pussy.”
Joel does just that. He licks from bottom to top, top to bottom. He tastes every inch of you, from your slick folds to your clit and back down to your entrance. He flattens his tongue wide against you, lapping at your cunt and savoring the taste of your arousal. He loves the sinful, wet noises your pussy makes.
You tug on Joel’s wet strands of salt and pepper hair, pulling him as close as you can get him. “I know, gorgeous. I got ya,” he whispers.
Joel pushes two fingers inside you once more, this time curling them upward to find that sweet spot inside you. You kick your legs, splashing even more water than before. You’ve got an iron grip on his damp curls, twitching and shuddering with every flick of his tongue and sending water flying.
This whole eating you out to keep you from flooding the bathroom thing didn’t go as planned. But Joel’s a trooper. He’ll soldier on and mop up your mess later. He firmly grips the area behind your knees, lifting your legs from the water and pushing them apart. They sit high at your hips, he has you in a vulnerable position. He devours you and holds you close with a certain tenderness, and you know you’re in good hands.
“Mmmm,” you moan. “S’good, fuck.”
“Got a dirty mouth, hon. You know that?”
You do know that, but you can’t respond. The only thing you can do is whimper and make those sweet, sweet noises that Joel loves so much. “Keep makin’ those pretty noises, sweetheart.” he whispers as you squirm against him. He holds you tighter, keeping you still as he brings you to the edge. His fingers and tongue working relentlessly to make you dizzy.
“Gonna, fuck. M’gonna come, Joel. Please, please–”
“Come on my tongue,” Joel tells you. “Let go f’me. Give me a good one, sweetheart. Wanna taste it. Wanna taste all of you.”
With his words and ministrations inside you, along with his tongue dancing on your clit, you dissolve under him. Pure pleasure courses through your veins, beginning deep in the pit of your stomach and washing over you, your torso and thighs. Joel’s name is the only word you know at this moment. You sing it like a hymn, worshiping the man who makes you see stars.
Your head feels fuzzy. You’re hardly aware that Joel’s now kissing his way up your body, over your tummy and your ribcage. He kisses one of your breasts, then the other. He flicks his tongue over one nipple and lightly pinches and twists the other. “Didn’t get to give these tits of yours enough lovin’,” he mumbles.
It’s touching. He’s such a good lover, but such a forgetful man. Guess what’s sitting right next to you.
Yup. Rubber ducky.
Joel’s still kissing and massaging your tits, and you quietly reach for the duck. You squirt him right between the eyes.
Joel snatches the toy from your hand. “Where do you keep finding these fuckin’ ducks?!”
You shrug and giggle, then Joel pulls away from you. He pulls the drain stopper, then dries you and himself off with fresh towels. “Alright,” he says. “You had your bath and then some. Get lost.”
You pout. “You’re not gonna walk me home? It’s late.”
“Nope.” Joel bites his cheek, knowing he’s not actually gonna kick you out to walk home alone. You’re making him soft, and he hates it. “Fine,” he concedes. “Get in bed.”
You giggle and make your way to his bed, watching Joel mop up your mess in the bathroom. He blows out the candles and returns to you. “M’way too fuckin’ nice to ya,” he grumbles.
“Eh,” you shrug. “Could be nicer.”
Please comment/reblog if you enjoyed! Send me asks! Your interaction means the world and keeps me going!
Part 3
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safe and sound
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
summary: Your daughter has a nightmare—her daddy makes it all better.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. set in Jackson. slight canon age deviations (Joel is 56, Ellie is 17) READER’S AGE IS NOT SPECIFIED. she’s a child bearing adult woman so do with that information what you will. established relationship, reader and Joel have a toddler (her age is not specified in fic but she’s 3 ish years old), reader has NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION and neither does their child except she has Joel’s eyes and his dark curls, no mentions of her skintone. Joel and Ellie are fine bc he deserves it, Joel’s an overprotective girl dad, reader is the chill parent. implications of a toddler being told about clickers, bad dreams, almost smut, Joel and reader get cockblocked, SOFT Joel who comforts his babygirl, mention of Sarah towards the end. very minimal editing.
word count: 2.3k
a/n: listen, i love me some daddy joel but tonight i needed a bit of actual daddy joel. this was whipped up last minute bc i haven’t had the best weekend and needed some comfort. also i didn’t have the mental capacity or energy to come up with a moodboard, so gif it is.
Joel looks down at the old, worn book in his hand.
Winnie the Pooh.
He never would have imagined it. This.
Reading a bedtime story to a toddler. His toddler.
He’s in his fifties—he shouldn’t have a toddler.
He shouldn’t have a teenager, either.
Yet, he has both.
The toddler has his blood, the teenager doesn’t.
But that doesn’t matter to him.
Joel still considers her to be his own kid.
Only, she’s not a kid anymore, not really.
She’s seventeen now. She doesn’t need him much anymore, not the way that his toddler needs him.
“Ellie’s not coming home tonight,” you’d said from where you stood at the stove, stirring in chunks of potato and chopped carrots into the pot of stew in front of you. “There’s a birthday party down at the bar. She’s going with Dina and Jesse.” You can feel the look of disapproval on his face and add, “I said she could go, Joel. She asked me permission.”
“She didn’t ask me,” he’d gruffed. He looked down at the little girl sitting in his lap, scribbling away on an old state map. He had given it to her along with the pack of crayons he’d found during patrol when his group stumbled across a schoolhouse. Though crumbling on the outside, the inside had remained untouched throughout the last two decades—little coats hanging over the back of little chairs, papers scattered all over little desks, little lunch boxes still stored in their cubbies at the back of the room. He instructed the group to search for anything useful, anything that Jackson’s teachers could use for the children in their classrooms. Joel knew that taking without trading was against the rules, but that did nothing to stop him from secretly slipping the box of crayons into his jacket pocket when no one had been looking.
His daughter’s squeals of delight when he’d gifted them to her had been well worth the theft.
“Because she knew you’d say no to her.”
“I would have. Kid’s got no business going to a bar at her age. She’s fuckin’ seventeen years ol—”
The little girl had gasped and stopped coloring.
“Daddy said a bad word.”
You’d turned around and glared at him. “He did.”
She looked up at him with her wide, brown eyes.
Those she’d gotten from him. His dark curls too.
Everything else?
Her smile, her nose, her softness?
That was all you.
“M’sorry, babygirl,” he apologized, sheepishly.
“S’okay, daddy.”
And back to coloring she went.
“Joel, let’s face it. Ellie’s growing up. She’s turning eighteen in a few months and truth is, she has one foot out the door.” Crossing your arms, you leaned back against the counter. “She was telling me how she wants to turn the garage into her own space.”
“There a reason she ain’t talkin’ to me ‘bout this?”
You’d smiled wistfully at him.
“Because she knows this is hard for you, Joel.”
It is hard. Because even though she isn’t his, she’s his and he’s afraid to lose her somehow.
Joel manages to snap himself out of his thoughts.
Rosemary’s now fast asleep, her well loved stuffed bunny rabbit wrapped in her arms. She’s a handful for him during bedtime—she has too much energy and most nights, you have to step in and help him. But tonight, after her bath, he had warmed a glass of milk for her to drink and it seemed to have done the trick because within minutes of him reading to her, her eyes fluttered closed.
Joel sets the book down and leans over to brush a kiss onto her cheek, quietly whispering goodnight. “Sweet dreams, babygirl.”
He switches off the lamp on the bedside table and steps out of his child’s bedroom, being careful not to wake her as he closes the door behind him.
“I still can’t believe she fell asleep within minutes,” you say, staring at him in utter disbelief. “How?”
“Gave her a glass of warm milk before I tucked her into bed,” Joel explains, tugging on a pair of faded black sweatpants. He peels off his shirt and tosses it onto the floor before climbing into bed. “Worked like a fuckin’ charm. She’s out like a damn light.”
You set your book down and raise an eyebrow.
“Joel, I brushed her teeth before her bath.”
“I brushed them again after she drank it, darlin’.”
He outstretches his arm, beckoning for you.
Grinning, you scoot closer to him, draping an arm over his bare chest. “It’s only nine,” you tell him. “I have no idea what we’re going to do with all of this free time we have. Rosemary’s asleep, Ellie’s gone for the night.” You slowly drag your hand down his chest and over his stomach, a finger skimming the waistband of his sweatpants. You hear the way his breath catches in his throat and tease, “I guess we can actually get some good sleep for once, huh?”
Groaning, Joel rolls over and pins you down to the bed as he positions himself on top of you, his eyes glazed over with lust. “We can sleep,” he murmurs as his mouth hovers over yours. He reaches for the buttons of his flannel you’re wearing and begins to single-handedly pop them open only to find you’re not wearing anything underneath. He groans once more. “Or I can make you feel good. S’your choice, baby.”
You gasp as he nips at your chin and starts trailing his lips lower, peppering kisses down the length of your body. Heat blossoms in your lower belly as he settles himself between your thighs. Hooking both arms around them, he nibbles at the soft spot that is right below your navel, the spot you hate, but he adores. Having a child had changed your body and while you two seldom had time to yourselves to do anything of this nature, when you did find time, he never failed to make you feel like you were still just as beautiful to him, if not a thousand times more.
“Fuck,” you whimper. “Please, Joel.”
“Please what, sweetheart? What do you want?”
His voice is low, husky.
Your hands reach down and tangle in his curls.
“Your mouth, Joel. Please. I need your—”
The sound of a teeny knock at the door makes you both freeze on the spot.
“You heard that, right?” you ask him breathlessly.
There’s a second teeny knock.
It’s then followed by an even teenier voice.
“Mommy? Daddy?”
“Fuck,” Joel hisses, scrambling off the bed. “What the hell is she doin’ out of bed?” Picking his t-shirt up from the floor, he quickly throws it on, ignoring that he’d put it on inside out. Watching you as you fumble to button his flannel, he calls, “Just give us one second babygirl, alright? We’ll be right there.”
“I’m decent,” you tell him, getting the last button.
Nodding, Joel opens the bedroom door. His knees protest when he squats down, lowering himself so that he can meet Rosemary’s tearful gaze.
“S’matter, Rosie Posie?” he asks her in a soft voice that he reserves for his girls. “What happened?”
She sniffles. “I—I had a bad dream, daddy.”
You sit on the side of bed and wait patiently.
Joel has it handled. He always has it handled.
He never stopped knowing how to be a father.
“You had a bad dream?” he repeats, frowning.
Rosemary nods, clutching her rabbit to her chest.
A single tear slips down the side of her little face.
Joel reaches out, gingerly wiping it with his finger.
“M’sorry it scared you, babygirl. Tell you what, just for tonight, how about you sleep with me and your mama in our bed? That sound good?” With a small labored grunt, he scoops her into his arms. She is getting heavier and you often tell him it’s not good for his back—he can’t care less. He’ll keep picking her up until the moment his little girl decides she’s a big girl and doesn’t want him to pick her up. Joel carries her over to the bed and sits her on your lap and reminds her, “But this is just for tonight, Rosie Posie. Tomorrow night you’re back in your own big girl bed, alright?”
“Okay,” she nods again and leans against you, tiny shoulders slumping.
“Rosie? What was your dream about?” you ask her gently, wrapping your arms around her. She hardly ever has nightmares—she’s too young to know the world outside the commune’s walls, smart but still too little to understand why she cannot go outside the gates. “What did you dream about, honey?”
She hesitates, then answers, “Monsters.”
“Monsters?” Perplexed, you glance at Joel.
He seems to be just as confused as you are.
“Who did you hear that word from, babygirl?”
“Robbie.”
Your neighbor’s unruly, troublemaker son.
Joel’s jaw clenches slightly. “Thought I told you he ain’t allowed to be around her. The kid is nine, ain’t got no business bein’ around Rosemary. Little brat ain’t nothin’ but a bad influence. He’s always up to no good.” He shakes his head at you. “Said I didn’t want that boy anywhere near our daughter.”
“The kids were out playing in the snow today,” you remember. “He must have been there too. It’s kind of hard to tell who is who when they’re all bundled up and flinging snowballs at each other, Joel.” You shoot him an apologetic look. “Rosie was having a blast playing with everybody—I’m sorry. I suppose I should’ve paid more attention to who was around her.”
He bites back a sigh. He knows it’s not your fault.
Rosie’s too good of a girl, too pure and innocent to know that not everybody is her friend.
“Rosie, what did Robbie say to you?”
Again, the child hesitates.
“He said—he said monsters live outside. They bite people and turn them into monsters too. He said it happened to his daddy.” Rosemary’s eyes flit from you to Joel. “He said it would happen to you, too.”
Your eyes widen in shock. “He said that to you?”
Hands curling into fists, Joel reminds himself now isn’t the time to let his anger take over. “S’not true at all, babygirl.” He reaches over and slides her out of your lap and onto his. Like you, he wants to lie—tell her those monsters she was told about are not real, that they don’t exist. But they do exist and as much as he wishes he could keep her from finding out about all that lies beyond Jackson’s walls, Joel knows that one day, she will. “Listen to me. M’real sorry to hear ‘bout Robbie’s daddy, baby. But I can promise you, that ain’t gonna happen to me.”
She points a chubby finger at you.
“What about mommy?”
“Ain’t gonna happen to her either.”
Rosemary drops her hand, fear clear in her tone as she asks the both of you, “What about me?”
“Of course not,” you say, smoothing back her dark curls. “You’re safe here, honey. As safe as can be.”
Joel nods. “Your mama’s right, darlin’. You’re safe,” he reassured her. “You’re safe and sound.”
“I am?”
He gives her body a warm, gentle squeeze. “Mhm. Always will be. Y’know how I know that, babygirl?”
“How?”
“‘Cause. As long as daddy’s around, he will always protect you,” he promises her. “He’ll never, ever let anythin’ bad happen to you, Rosie. I swear it.” Joel kisses the top of her head, his gaze meeting yours. He murmurs his oath quietly, “On my life.”
Flashing him a small, grateful smile, you reach out and touch his forearm and he places his hand over your own.
“And mommy too?” Rosemary questions him.
“And mommy too.”
“And Ellie?”
“And Ellie,” he nods, firmly. “M’always gonna keep my girls safe. S’long as I’m around, you’re all safe.”
Rosie tiredly snuggles into his chest, yawning.
“What about you, daddy?”
“Huh?”
You squeeze his arm. “Think she’s asking you who is supposed to keep you safe, Joel.”
The little girl nods sleepily. “Yeah. Who?”
“Well.” Joel’s throat bobs nervously. He knows the moment he says what he’s about to say, there’s no going back. Not that he never planned to tell Rosie about her sister, but he’d always imagined doing it when she was older and understood death. “I—uh, I have an angel in the clouds who looks out for me. She watches over me, keeps me safe and sound.”
Rosemary’s curiosity is all that is keeping her from completely passing out in his arms.
“Really? You have an angel?”
Your heart squeezes tightly in your chest. “Joel—”
He lightly shakes his head.
“S’fine sweetheart. I don’t mind tellin’ her.”
Rosie’s fighting to stay awake just a little longer.
“Daddy? What’s your angel’s name?”
Joel answers in the steadiest voice he can muster.
“Her name was—her name is Sarah.”
“Sarah,” she mumbles, her eyes closing. “S’pretty. Your angel has a really pretty name.”
“The prettiest name,” you agree, softly.
Rosie yawns again. “Daddy?”
“What is it, babygirl?”
“Will you tell me stories about Sarah? Please?”
Joel chuckles, rubbing her back. “I sure will. I have plenty of them to tell, Rosie Posie. But not tonight. I’ll save them for tomorrow ni—”
You cut him off. “Joel?”
“Yeah?”
“She’s out cold.”
He glances down and sure enough, she’s asleep.
Moments later, the three of you are in bed. Rosie’s in the middle, curled up against Joel’s chest—your chest is pressed against her back but you’re being careful not to sandwich her in too tight in between your bodies.
In a beam of silvery moonlight shining through the bedroom window, you meet Joel’s gaze.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
He chuckles. “For what? Doin’ my job and soothin’ our daughter after a bad dream?”
You smile at him.
“For being so good to her. To me and Ellie.” Lifting a hand, you reach over and cup the side of his face in your palm. “You’re so good to all three of us and I can’t even imagine what we’d do without you.”
Joel turns his face, brushing a kiss into your hand.
“I mean it,” he says, quietly. “S’long as I’m around, you girls will always be safe and sound.”
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#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fluff#joel miller angst#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller one shot#joel miller fic#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fic#fic: safe and sound
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She’s got a boyfriend anyway…
Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)
Word count: 7K
Warnings: Semi public sex, Missionary, Cowgirl, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Teasing, Sneaking around, Secret relationship, Brief David mention, Ellie being a menance, Tommy trying to play matchmaker.
Summary: Tommy has been trying to set Joel up for AGES, he’s got other interests.
Or
You and Joel have secretly been seeing each other.
A03
Read below…
Life in Jackson is promising, nearly a year and half here and Joel feels comfortable, no longer itching for a way out of civilisation because he’s just not used to that no more. Ellie is settled too - finally. She’s attending school three days a week, enjoying the new responsibilities that come with being sixteen and the tad bit of freedom it brings. She helps out at the stables, in the kitchen too but she’s not a fan. She likes being in the library most, checking in and out books, tidying shelves, using her art to create eye catching displays aimed at the younger generation of Jackson.
Joel is proud, his heart feels like it could burst out of his chest all the time. Ellie is still full of wit and charisma that comes out in curses and daft puns that make Joel roll his eyes and get her in a headlock until she’s laughing so hard she’s pink in the face.
There’s times when she skips school completely if a male teacher has subbed in, she flinches away if someone comes too close and sometimes if it’s stew night at dinner, she’ll stare blankly into her bowl at the chunks of meat and see a severed ear, she’ll try to swallow but gag instead. These are nights Joel gives her his bread and Tommy will too, then he’ll make her a fruit salad when they get home with a little double cream poured over it.
The nightmares are persistent on these bad days where triggers occur, he finds Ellie in bed screaming and thrashing multiple times a week. She’ll sob and cry hoarsely as he holds her, hushing her gently and resting his cheek on her head. Most of the time she’ll fall back asleep with him beside her, curled into him like she did back at Silver Lake when death was close.
But mostly, everything’s okay.
Joel had been with Tommy every single day this week so far and it was Thursday evening, they’d been focusing on fixing up the bathroom in a house way further down from his, they were getting it ready for a family that had expanded to move in. The floor was rotten and the pipes wrecked, neither of them were particularly fond of plumbing but they sorted it between them. There was still the kitchen to do but that was a job for tomorrow and probably Saturday too but not Sunday, that was his day with Ellie.
Sunday’s were for late breakfasts of bacon and pancakes - before and after the world ended. The only thing that changed was the kid for Joel, he used to serve Sarah indulgent breakfasts on a Sunday and they’d do something together and the tradition was carried on with Ellie and Sarah remained tucked in his heart.
Tired and stiff from working hunched over all day, Joel was enjoying a quiet drink with Tommy. They were tucked away on a small table with two stools, Joel would have preferred something with a back but beggars can’t be choosers; he was grateful for the cold glass of bourbon nearly empty in front of him and the sound of Dire Straits playing over the old speakers.
As always, Tommy is picking and prying into his lack of a love life. Since he’s noticed his older brother being more settled within the community, he’d been trying his hardest to set him up with various women and Tommy Miller was nothing if not persistent.
At this point in the day, Tommy’s voice is almost just white noise.
“Cath is nice.” Tommy pointed out, Joel snorts.
“She’s also gay, Tommy.”
“Oh shit, really? I didn’t know.”
“Clearly. Can we please stop talking about this? It’s the same thing every fuckin’ time I come drinking with you.” Joel begs, Tommy sighs heavily but drops it for now.
Joel takes in the scenery as he sits there, grateful for the moments silence from Tommy. His eyes stray to the left of the table and he listens as you speak to Denton, an older gentleman in his late sixties with a love of horses. He’s quizzing you about the new mare in the stables, he hears you mention checking on her again after your shift because she’s been particularly temperamental since she was brought in from outside but you’ve developed a nice bond with her, she’s slowly becoming more trusting.
It occurs to Joel that everyone likes you - literally everyone, even Ellie and she was a tough nut to crack. You’re sweet, soft spoken yet confident. You’re always helping out where you can; on patrols, stable duty, in the communal garden, sometimes at the school and also here at the bar when Darius needs his shift covered.
You find good things on patrol and give them to Joel or Ellie before taking the rest for the community, so they get first pick of everything.
You’re just the sweetest thing.
Tommy sees you and beckons you with a friendly wave, you mutter a goodbye to Denton and pat his hand.
“Hey.” You hear your name called over the music and you turn as Tommy Miller grabs your attention as you scoop up two glasses and an empty bowl that once held nuts and dried berries from the table two away from his and Joel’s.
“Yes, Miller?” You patter over with your hands occupied, you sneak a look at his older sibling, sparing him a wink as a greeting, he smirks softly back.
“Has Darius got an other fuckin’ music or are we strictly limited to the sounds of 1985 tonight?” He questions and you laugh, shaking your head.
“You don’t like Dire Straits?”
“He doesn’t appreciate good music.” Joel interjects, shaking his head at Tommy.
“I do - but other music. Eminem or even fuckin’ Britney! Anything but this shit.” Tommy groans, tossing his head back.
“Keep talking smack about Dire Straits, Miller - and I’ll snitch to your wife about the fact you’ve switched patrols with Mark twice this week because you were too hungover to go.” You smile sweetly at Tommy, tilting your head.
“Snitches get stitches.” Tommy remarks playfully, not an ounce of malice in his dark brown eyes and your eyebrows rise, you beam back.
“That right? Well, troublesome men get barred for life.”
“Oooooh.” Joel chimes in, looking amusedly between you and his younger brother.
“Touché.” Tommy quips, folding his arms.
“Tell you what, next time I’m in, I’ll have a rummage out back and see if I can find you some Britney. Bless you.” You pinch his cheek as you walk past and he swats your hand, rubbing the spot while Joel laughs.
“You’re pushing your luck giving her lip, I’m not sure if you’re aware but this is the only operational bar in Wyoming.”
“Tell me about it.” He grumbles back, Joel shakes his head once more as the door behind Tommy on the back wall opens.
“Joeeeeeel?!” He hears yelled from close by, he looks up and sees Ellie dragging her sneakers across the floor, scouring the bar for him with her honey coloured eyes eagerly. She spots him within seconds, beaming and practically skipping over to him and Tommy in the corner. “There you are, I looked fucking everywhere for you.” She groans dramatically, throwing her head back. “I wanna go out, I’m bored shitless at home. There’s nothing for me to do and yes - I’ve done my school work.” She quickly adds.
“You done those quadratic equation questions we were going over last night?” He raises his eyebrow.
“Yep. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, though I did ask my teacher because I’m pretty sure you were figuring them out wrong. You were, by the way.” Joel puffs indignantly, rolling his eyes. Ellie spins to Tommy, the soles of her shoes squeaking. “Can I try that?” She’s laser focused on the bourbon swimming between globes of ice in Tommy’s glass.
“What have I said the last twenty times you’ve asked, El?” Tommy’s dark brows are high on his forehead, his mouth is twisted with hidden laughter. Ellie rolls her eyes with annoyance, sloping over to Joel now.
“No.” She huffs, swinging her lanky arms around Joel. She hums and rubs her face into his shoulder bone, resting there for a second before her attentions shifts comically fast. There’s a warmth that spreads through Joel every single time she does this, she’s so casual about it and he’s drawn the conclusion that it’s a teenage thing because Sarah was the same. There’s a sadness that blossoms too, a darkness that twists and anchors in his chest as he thinks of her and who she’d be now. He can’t dwell for too long, not now - he did that for too long.
At one dark point in time, human connection was not key to survival, hence why he always kept Tess at arms length and then referred to Ellie as cargo until one snowy day it became apparent she was no longer cargo when she was frenzied and panting in his arms, splattered with the blood of a predator and gasping like she was taking her last breath. The sound haunted him for a long time, all memories of Sarah hitting him like a freight train. He had to protect Ellie, the minute he drew her in - oh baby girl - and held her tightly, wrapped in his coat and clinging to him just as hard.
Ellie’s his kid now. She’s his. He’s hers. They’re a family. Ellie Williams Miller - that’s how she’s known now. It’s scrawled on her school books. The love he feels for this human tornado in sneakers is unmatched, the one thing he’s ever been truly good at has been restored and it’s a role he knows well; being a father.
Sure, this teenager that he’s raising is the furthest from bubblegum pink and Avril Lavigne she could be, she’s particularly jagged around the edges and does have the temperament of an unsocialised cat that will bite if you get too close.
He looks down at her, rubbing into him like she’s trying to get his smell on her because it’s comforting and she feels safe and feels his heart ready to burst.
Of course the sweet moment of affection is shattered when Ellie yawns directly into his fucking ear because why wouldn’t she?
He grunts when she bears most of her weight on his aching shoulders, leaning easily into him and twisting her small fingers into his flannel.
“So? Can I go or not?” She presses.
“Go where?” He prompts, raising his eyebrow.
“Toni’s from school. Her cat had kittens a few weeks ago and they’re starting to play. Five of them, Joel! That’s a lotta kittens!” Ellie enunciates, brown eyes wide and Joel can’t help the smile that graces his otherwise tired face.
“You mean a litter?” He corrects and Ellie pauses, frowning.
“Huh?”
“A bunch of kittens is a litter, Ellie.” He informs her and she somehow manages to frown even more, she makes a noise like she’s computing the new information.
“Yeah, whatever.” She mumbles, Tommy snorts in amusement. “So I can go see them?” She presses, shifting her weight again and Joel groans louder now, unhooking her arms from his shoulders with a quiet ‘don’t do that, baby’ that’s full of affection.
“Yes but you’re back at nine latest, okay? Nine. I’ll be waiting for you, the minute those street lamps turn on, you’re home.” Joel says, Ellie’s mouthing along to his instructions that he’s been laying out since Summer began and the evenings stretched longer. “Be good.” He speaks more softly now and she nods, he presses a kiss to the side of her head, her eyelashes flutter happily as the warmth blossoms in her too with the security that’s Joel Miller.
“Peesh. I’m always good. Bye Tommy!” She says excitedly, fist bumping him when it’s offered.
“See ya, squirt.” Tommy replies but before he’s even voiced his reply, Ellie’s hurrying away and knocking into a patron while waving to you on the way out of the door so hard it slams. Joel sighs, thinking she’s a literal hurricane.
The door hinge has barely stopped shaking before Tommy starts with the suggestions of suitors once more.
“What about Myleene?” Tommy proposes, Joel shakes his head quickly, downing the remainder of his drink.
“Too young.” He replies.
“She’s twenty five.”
“Too young.” He repeats firmer this time.
“Okay, fine. What about Michelle? She’s what forty? I was talking to her in the cobblers the other day, she’s definitely interested - mentioned something about making you a pie?”
“I’m good.” He grumbles looking down into his empty glass but quickly shifting his gaze to the bar, you’re leaning on your elbows, laughing heartily with a patron.
You look beautiful tonight - just like every other night. Your shoulders are sunkissed, your cheeks a little flushed and skin glowing from the summer humidity. He absorbs the way your hair tumbles down your shoulders and the way the thin straps of your tiered sundress slip down occasionally, only to be tugged back into place with dexterous fingers.
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Tommy jibes, Joel looks over with a firm scowl.
“What?” He asks, Tommy shakes his head.
“You can dream, brother.” Joel rolls his eyes, trying to act nonchalant. “She’s got a boyfriend anyway.” Tommy adds, Joel eyes him with full attention.
“A boyfriend?” He asks, trying to be sure he heard right.
“Yeah, overheard her talking to one of the girls in the garden a few days ago. Didn’t mention no names but she definitely said she was seein’ someone.” Tommy shrugged, Joel hummed with interest. “Anyway, it don’t matter because she’s way out of your league.”
“Thanks.” Joel retorts, sneaking one last look before focusing on the door behind Tommy, the one Ellie had not long barrelled in and out of just moments ago.
He wonders about the kittens she mentioned and gulps as he imagines her taking to one with its big eyes and soft paws, his mind is pulled back to a time in April when he’d come downstairs one morning to a sink full of tad poles she’d ‘rescued’ from birds out of the neighbours pond.
Basically, his girl can’t resist animals she deems too vulnerable to leave.
“Scared Ellie’s gonna come home with one of them kittens?” Tommy wonders, reading Joel’s mind.
“Terrified.”
********************************************
The sun is setting in bursts of burnt orange and marigold by the time he leaves Tommy to his own devices at the bar, he hazards a look around as he makes his way in the complete opposite direction to his and Ellie’s house.
He slinks around the back of the school house, slithering through the gap and walking up the winding path that leads to the stables. He climbs the short fence and hops to the other side, his boots kick up the dust from the dirt path and the crickets chirp beneath the skyline.
With one more look around, he opens to rear door to the stables and slips inside, shutting it softly behind him.
Immediately he hears the horses further down huff and puff, he can make out the swish of their tails hitting the walls as they munch on hay, there’s a neigh that is absolutely Shimmer kicking up a fuss about something.
He slopes around the riding gear and sees you leaning against the wall, hands behing your back. You grin.
“Took your time, cowboy. Was beginning to think you couldn’t take the hint and stood me up.”
“Never, honey.” Joel prowls towards you, ready to grab you. “Missed you.”
“You just saw me.”
“Not the same.” He yanks you close like a man starved, you’d shared company less than 24 hours ago but you greet and leave each other like it’s the last time you’ll ever be together. It’s the apocalypse affect, you know that, he does too
This arrangement had been going on for almost two months now, all started by a late night patrol together where you’d shared more about yourselves in an eight hour shift than both of your time in Jackson combined. There was an instant attraction, it was so easy to talk to one another and that’s what you did every single time you were partnered together and it became the highlight of your day. It started innocently and friendship had bloomed, then before you knew it you were sharing a rum laced thermos of tea with him in the bed of a truck and kissing him with reddened cheeks shortly thereafter. You’d first slept together in the same truck, just as dawn began to break. It was clumsy and quick but you couldn’t get enough of one another. You hadn’t cum but Joel promised next time would be better which lead to the question of next time? You’d been seeing each other most nights since.
Any chance you got, you were together. Nobody knew about you both, hence why Tommy was incessantly trying to hook Joel up with other women around town and jealousy burned as you listened in on their one sided conversations in the bar whenever you were covering for Darius.
You’d left the bar shortly before Joel had, waving farewell to him and Tommy, coming straight up here to check on the mare just as you’d told Denton. This was a usual spot to meet Joel, it wasn’t your first rodeo in the stables with him. It was the one place you could be alone after a certain time.
“Were you hiding from me, honey? Hmm?” He growls playfully, pulling you to him even though you were barely a millimetre away in the first place. You hum in response, so utterly lost in him. You’re nuzzling his throat, fisting his shirt, desperate for his attention. “God, you look so good today.” He murmurs, mouth finding yours. You moan softly, standing on your tip toes and kissing him in a way that makes his lungs and loins burn alike. His grey tinged moustache prickles your upper lip beautifully, his beard feels familiar beneath your soft hands.
He’s crowding you and guiding you backwards, kissing you hotly in a sense that makes your cunt throb eagerly. You moan into his mouth when he nips your bottom lip, squeezing the left cheek of your ass.
You love when he’s like this - playful and easy. He feels lightyears younger around you, it’s like the heaviness dissipates the moment he’s in your company. He loses himself in the way you smell, the way your hair feels when his fingers are entwined between the sun kissed strands, the way in which your eyes sparkle with mischief.
It’s easy to pull him towards the back of the stable, where the bales of hay were stacked created a nice wall of privacy. You’d been in here a couple of times with him, having gone as far to stash a flannel blanket in one of the cupboards to lay down as to protect you both from the cold floor and the prickle of loose hay.
Once behind the hay and seated on a bale with you in his lap, strong hands are moving the thin straps of your sundress down your shoulders, you momentarily break away from his mouth to aid the removal of your dress to your waist where Joel roughly bunches it up so that your underwear is now on show and so are your tits.
His eyes light up at your bare chest, like he hasn’t seen your breasts countless times before. One thing among many that you first noticed was that Joel Miller is a tit man through and through. His rough and work toughened hands cup them both gently before his tongue swirls around your left nipple.
“Joel.” You murmur, arching into him, rolling your hips into his. He’s hard already, age not affecting him like that in the slightest. He’s a hot blooded male, every single inch a man and that warms you to your core. You grab his hand, bringing it to the top of your panties and he slides it in without hesitation.
“Christ.” He curses, exploring your lips with his fingertips, gliding through the dewy wetness gathered there and coming back up for a split second to drag it over your clit roughly. You whimper, bucking into his hand. “Mmm, babydoll.” Joel huffs against your cheek in a hot pant, repeating the action.
“Need you so badly, Joel. Almost got started without you.” You confess.
“Fuck. You can’t- don’t say shit like that, honey.” He growls lowly, unbelievably hard beneath you. His fingers explore again, you aid his explorations by canting your hips just so.
Joel is eager to get things moving, he’s hard and frustrated, he has a beautiful woman in his lap and the perfect setting. He pulls his hand from your underwear, looking down to see the shine of you on him. He loses his mind when you take his hand and lead it to your mouth, sucking the tips of his index and middle finger as he watches with eyes blown wide; they look black instead of the earthy brown that sometimes melts into caramel or runny honey.
The minute you hum like a content cat, he has you lifted off his lap and braced against him. You squeal at the sudden shift, the ceiling looking closer than the floor but then he gently lays you back on the blanket and settles between your legs.
“Hey, who was Tommy trying to set you up with?” You blurt, Joel pauses.
“Cath.”
“She’s gay.” You frown.
“Michelle too.” He adds before diving down into your chest, pressing your breasts together, mouthing at the swell.
“I’m not sure you’re Michelle’s type, she’s a cougar apparently.” You remark, Joel ignores you in favour of sucking your nipples until they feel raw. “Why Michelle? I don’t understand why Tommy thinks she’s a good match for you.” You don’t know why this is coming up now, your mouth seems to have a mind of its own, the jealousy settling like lead in your stomach.
“He said she wants to make me a pie.” Joel pipes up, the confession half muffled.
“What kind of pie?” You ask, pulling his face from your tits. Joel groans frustratedly, looking up at you with eyes dark and deadly.
“I don’t know. Why does that even matter?”
“A cream pie probably.” You snarl under your breath, the jealousy swirling in the pit of your stomach like a rattled viper.
Joel laughs, shaking his head and coaxing your mouth back to his. “Gross.” He murmurs, kissing you softly and squeezing your hips as if to guide you back. “You know I only like your cream pies.” He jokes, this time you break into a smile.
“Now whose gross?” You snort, tugging his plain grey undershirt over his head and to the side. You run your palms over his chest and down to his softer stomach, digging your nails in as they drag a long his skin. Goosebumps erupt all over him.
Joel is softer in his older age but strong too, years of walking different terrain, heavy lifting and fighting have made him lean also.
You hum contentedly, tracing over those familiar scars that have been made in the 20 years since the world imploded.
“He said you were out of my league.” Joel suddenly admits, resting his hands on your spread knees. You frown up at him. “Tommy said you were out of my league.”
“Tell Tommy he doesn’t know shit.” You retort with an eye roll, grabbing Joel by his belt and yanking him forward. “I like you, Joel. Fuck what anyone else thinks, it’s not anyone’s business who we choose to be with.” You say softly now, kissing your way up his chin to his lips. “I like you.” You affirm again, Joel kisses you tenderly, weaving his hand into your hair as you moan quietly.
“Well, I like you too.” He says, kissing you with so much passion yet so much tenderness all at the same time as you fumble to unbuckle his belt. You yank it apart, tugging open the button and prying the worn denim apart with the hiss of his zipper.
He barely lets you wrap a hand around him over his boxers before he has both your wrists pinned above your head, you make a sad whine but all disappointment quickly dissipates when he shuffles down the length of your torso and yanks your underwear down so fast you feel the material leave a friction burn. He grabs your thighs and then manoeuvres your legs by the backs of your knees, you like where this seems to be going.
Your spine curves against the hard floor when his mouth makes that first contact, he starts slow with a lick up the length of you, then he lightly suckles your lips and gently licks over the hood of your clitoris.
“Joel.” You murmur, twisting the blanket beneath your fingertips, scrunching it and bitting down on your lower lip as he continues his gentle assault on your clit, the rubber toes of your hi tops dig into his ribs almost painfully.
His thumb comes up to gently push the hood of your clit back, the sensation of his tongue directly stimulating the nerve causes you to gasp and wind one hand down into his hair, you tug and he groans against you.
You’re transported back to one of the first times you’d been intimate together after sleeping together in the truck.
For some reason, it had shocked you that Joel Miller ate pussy like a champ. The first time he’d gone down on you - behind the bar just after you’d blown him - you’d prepared yourself for dissatisfaction and disappointment, only it never came. Joel had licked into you with such ferocity and precision that you’d almost keened over.
He’d made you cum so quickly that you’d barely had time to process the first swipe of his tongue on your clitoris and the climax that followed minutes later.
He’d looked up at you, moustache and beard slick with his eyes wide; ‘I forgot how much I enjoyed doing that’ he’d panted while you squeaked back in shock.
Now, as you live in the moment, you feel that tingle of pleasure building but you don’t want to cum without him inside of you. As much as it pains you, you tug on his hair, urging him back up.
“Wanna cum with you.” You pant when he looks up with dazed brown eyes, frowning a little. He seems to accept that and sits up, shucking his jeans and boxers down over his ass with the help of your clumsy hands. “Lay back.” You demand, he does so and you move to take his place.
You throw your legs over his and settle above his lap, he’s got one arm behind his head and watches as you take him in your first and tease yourself with the flushed tip of him. He breathes in sharply through his nose as you do it again before notching him at the site of your heat, you steady yourself and begin to sink down.
“Fuck me.” Joel sighs, closing his eyes briefly because he’s so sure he’s in heaven. The sensation of your wet heat surrounding him never gets old, he’d forgotten how much he loved sex before meeting you.
“You’re so big, Joel.” You whimper, stroking his ego deliciously and he hates to be such a guy but the compliment goes straight to his dick.
“Fuck, honey. Take what you want, I’m yours - just fuck me.” He begs as you slowly begin to move, your nails scrape across his torso as you fall into an easy rhythm of rolling your hips into his. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby.” He babbles, looking up and admiring the curve of your back and the way your tits bounce as you ride him.
“Mmm.” You whine, picking up the pace and throwing your head back which exposes your jugular and Joel just wants to sink his teeth into you because you truly look good enough to eat.
“Come here, babydoll.” He urges, pulling you down so you’re chest to chest. Your peer at him with pretty doe eyes, your lashes flutter as they shut to kiss him deeply, your tongue swipes his and you taste the tang of yourself on him. You moan louder when he manages to plant his boots on the floor and thrust up into you roughly, tangling his hand in your hair to keep you pressed against him.
It’s so hot in the stables, you’re both sticky and warm. But with your pretty moans and keens filling the air, Joel manages to easily forget the irritation from the heat.
You push against his chest to sit up and Joel grabs your hips, guiding you easily and you feel yourself getting close but you can’t achieve orgasm through penetration alone.
You brace one hand on his thigh behind you, tipping your head back as the pleasure becomes almost too much to handle. Your hips roll in an easy rhythm, his cock head hitting your G spot perfectly and you whine when the hand on your left hip moves ever so slightly until Joel was able to thumb your clit. He knows you so well.
“Oh f - fuck. You feel so good, you’re so good - fuck.” You babble, your hips moving faster.
“Jesus christ.” Joel huffs, throwing his head back against the hard floor, biting his bottom lip hard to stave off his orgasm. You feel so good wrapped around him; wet and snug, like crushed velvet.
He knows he can’t stay like this, he’s too close to finishing and he can sense you’re not quite there yet despite being edged so he makes the conscious decision to hold you and flip you both over with a nimbleness he didn’t know he possessed in his older age.
You stutter out a choked moan, arching into his strong hands. You drag your nails down his toned back, leaving a little spatter of blood in the red tracks.
Joel hisses when your nails puncture the skin on the globes of his ass, somehow trying to pull him closer and push him away at the same time.
“Where?” He asks, nodding downwards as he fights off his climax.
“Inside.” You reply without hesitation. You’d counted your cycle days, marking in a blank notebook the day number and your symptoms, pretty accurately guessing your fertile window and probable ovulation day by cervical mucus alone. You were four days from your period being due, it was safe.
“You sure?” He hesitates, brow furrowed hard with concentration, he’s a stroke away from finishing. He knows better than most people to not trust the pull out method and he knows the importance of contraception but he still ended up a Dad before he hit his mid twenties. Pushing sixty he’s still playing a dangerous game but so far, neither of you had gotten burnt.
“Yeah.” You gasp, fingers on your clit rubbing faster. You groan suddenly and twist into him, making pretty little whimpers and purring. He groans too, thrusting in hard once, twice and then three times. You feel his cock stiffen and twitch, then the pulse of subtle warmth of his cum spreading inside and aiming for your cervix. He works himself through it, you push in return as the aftershocks slow to a flat line.
Joel heaves a breath, resting on his forearms as you lazily kiss his neck in satisfaction and rapture. You sit there for a minute, basking in the afterglow until Joel grows too stiff and has to withdraw from you slowly, kneeling up between your legs to pull his boxers and jeans back up but he leaves them unbuttoned and his belt loose.
You don’t miss the primal look in his eyes when they drift to between your legs, he can see his cum leaking and the pearlescent finish it leaves on your lips. His cock twitches, perhaps if he was younger he could go for another round but alas, he settles next to you on the blanket, pulling you to his chest and cushioning your head with a strong bicep.
“I think that might have been the best time yet.” You pant breathlessly, looking up at the ceiling and seeing the evening sky through the cracks of wood.
“Maybe one day we can do it in an actual bed, I’m not sure how much more of these places my back can take.” Joel jokes, you giggle and turn into him, listening to the rapid pace of his heartbeat as it settles, a perfect mirror of your own.
“Not bad for an old timer.” You tease, giggling when he growls and squeezes your hip.
“Was patrol okay today?” Joel questions you, you nod lazily against him. “You come across anything?” Now you speak, leaning up to peer down at him.
“A couple of runners. We shot them in that abandoned gas station near the entrance to the offices off the trail. I think they were probably people passing through, one was infected on the journey and turned, then bit the other.” Joel hums, rubbing your lower back and hip. “I have some things for Ellie I found, by the way. I’ll drop them over tomorrow. Nothing crazy, just some things I thought she needed.” You say between kisses down Joel’s chest and sternum, your delicate fingers tracing out old battle scars.
“What like?” He asks, catching your hand as it reaches his happy trail, bringing it to his lips instead where he presses tender kisses to your fingertips.
“Pyjamas, underwear and some toiletries. Oh! And get this, a new casette tape for her walkman.”
“What tape?”
“Teardrops.” You grin.
“Womack and Womack? She’s gonna love that.” Joel says, laying back and smiling at the ceiling of the stables, humming the song in his head. “Fuck, I haven’t heard that song in - jesus - years.” He’s frowning, contemplating lost time, the whole concept of time evades him, it never used to at the start but now? It’s one big jumble, his time is defined by events and not a calendar.
“She still playing that one you got her on repeat?” You wonder.
“Yeah.”
“What was it again?”
“Bowie. Heroes.” Joel replies.
“Nice.” You nod.
As you lie there together in an easy silence, content to be together in the quiet solace of the stables, Joel’s mind wanders back to his earlier conversation with his younger brother:
“Hey, er - Tommy actually said something else earlier.” Joel winces at how awkward he sounds and you huff loudly, ready to hear what other dumbass thing he’s said. “He said he heard you say you have a boyfriend or that you were seein’ someone.”
You sit up, frowning down at Joel.
“Okay…” You reply hesitantly, uneasy now. “Am I not seeing you?” You frown.
“No - no! It’s… that came out wrong. I just meant - “ Joel grumbles, covering his face momentarily while you try to will your stomach from not sinking. “I don’t know, I just wanted to know if you meant me.”
“Seriously, Joel? This conversation is going so well.” You say dryly, utterly unimpressed.
“No! Oh my god! I can’t do this.” He groans, realising his mistake. “I’m sorry, that came out so wrong.” Joel apologises, you snort.
“Look Joel, I was talking to Mrs Patterson in the garden and she was telling me about her late husband, saying how lovely he was and how men just aren’t like that anymore. She asked if I’d found anyone and I let it slip that I was seeing someone, I didn’t mention any names and I can totally understand why you’re freaked when we haven’t even had that conversation ourselves. I shouldn’t have assumed this was anything more than sex, I’m sorry.” You annunciate, warm in the cheeks.
“You want to just have sex?” Joel is sat up now, matching your frazzled expression.
“If that’s what you want.” You shrug, taking an interest in your cuticles. A large hand lays over yours, squeezing. You shift your focus to his knuckles instead, tracing out the scars.
“Honey, look at me.” He urges softly, you hesitantly meet his eyes. “I think somewhere we’ve miscommunicated.”
“How so?” You press.
“Look… it’s been a long time since I’ve done this, I’m a little rusty. I’m sorry if I haven’t been clear about what we are or what I want us to be, I kinda just assumed you knew and yeah, that’s real shitty of me.” He says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I wanna be exclusive with you, honey. I mean, I have Ellie to think about so we’ll need to go slow just so I can ease her into the change. Is that okay?” He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.
“That’s more than okay, Joel. I completely understand, I don’t want to spook Ellie either.” You confirm, Joel let’s out a relieved sigh.
“Good - good, okay. We’ll figure it out, baby.” He assures you, nuzzling his nose against yours and kissing you softly.
It’s easy to lose yourself in Joel Miller, you’re swept up in the gruff voice and strong arms, the softness beneath his outer shell reserved for those closest to him.
You’re kissing him back in earnest, he’s reclining to lay back down with you on top of him and you’re sure this could lead to round two or at least head from either one of you, maybe even both.
However, the moment is spoiled when you hear voices creeping closer to the stables. You both stiffen and wait, looking at each other with eyes opened wide.
The voices are getting closer and you decipher it’s two sets, it’s not made clear who it is until they’re walking behind the stables and you can see their shadows slink between the thin gaps in the planks.
It’s Ellie and Tommy.
You and Joel scramble, you yank your dress back over your breasts and pull the hem of it over your ass. Your panties are on the floor and you narrowly dodge Joel’s elbow as he hastily buckles his jeans back up just in time for the door around the corner to open with a shriek of the hinges.
“What if he’s gone out on patrol without telling me? Or maybe he’s swapped with someone and gone hunting? I know I’m back way earlier than he said but he said he’d be home! Do you think he’s left the gate? What if he’s hurt? What if - “ Ellie begins to ramble and Tommy sighs.
“Kiddo, stop worrying. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere, let’s look at the whiteboard and see if his name’s on there. I highly doubt he’s swapped shifts and he wouldn’t leave without telling you, he’s gotta be around here some…” Tommy’s reassurance comes to a stop when he round the corner of the hay bale wall and abruptly stops, staring at you and Joel with as much shock as you return.
Ellie slams into his back and he wobbles but his gaze never falters.
“What the fuck, man!” Ellie exclaims, shoving Tommy and stepping around his statue like form but also freezing too.
You look between them both, trying to formulate an excuse but Joel shoving his t-shirt on, the fact your clothes are crumpled and there’s absolutely hay in your tousled hair says it all.
Your panties are shoved behind your back out of view.
“Well I’ll be damned, you’re the guy she’s seein’!.” Tommy snorts, looking between you both. Joel growls, yanking on his flannel while Ellie manually retrieves her jaw from the floor.
“What the fuck is this?” She asks, looking between you and Joel. “You have a girlfriend? What the fuck, dude? You didn’t say anything!” She fumes, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Look, it’s complicated and new.” He says, which placates her slightly. She stares at you again and you see the betrayal hidden behind a scowl, she looks at Joel again.
“Fine. I guess this isn’t that bad, it could be worse - we could of caught you with Esther.”
“That’s true.” Tommy nods, pointing at Ellie, she nods back.
“Esther?” You question, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, Tommy’s neighbour, she totally fancies Joel.” Ellie tells you. “You should fight her.”
“No, she doesn’t and stop shit stirring.” Joel warns Ellie, she hides a smirk which tells you she’s winding Joel up.
“I could take Esther.” You say, playing along, Ellie’s eyes brighten with mischief.
“Nobody’s fighting no one.” Joel settles, you’re all silent for a millisecond and then Tommy throws in his two cence.
“You could take Esther.” He agrees.
“Enough about Esther, please!” Joel begs, beside himself.
“This is fucking embarrassing, Joel. What the fuck do you expect us to do? It’s awkward!” Ellie complains, Tommy nods in agreement, you do too.
“Yeah? Try being where we’re stood, kid.” He retorts.
Ellie kinda has to resist the urge to throw up in her mouth because Joel has sex which is so horrifying that she almost can’t bare to look at him but she’s equally happy for him and utterly disgusted, she swallows back a retch.
“Fine, whatever. I’m very happy for you and my da - Joel.” Ellie bursts and corrects herself at the last minute, you don’t miss the hitch in Joel’s breathing but this is not the time for that discussion. “I’m willing to negotiate a price for the emotional damage you’ve both caused me by lying to me, sneaking around and also having sex in front of my horse.” She lists.
“My horse too!” Tommy adds.
“And Tommy’s horse too, Crash and Shimmer didn’t want to see your bare ass.” Ellie continues and for some reason Joel knows exactly where this is going, so he braces himself.
“Name your price.” He bites, Ellie looks at him with a levelling glare, it’s getting hard not to laugh when you see Tommy observing like he’s watching a mafia deal go down.
“A kitten.” Ellie reveals.
He fucking knew it.
#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#the last of us#joel miller fic#joel miller#the last of us fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller one shot#pedro pascal fanfiction
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make the bed. (e.w.)
“𝒜𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒻𝑒𝒸𝓉 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈𝓃'𝓉 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐼 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒶 𝓈𝒾𝑔𝓃.”
omggg my first writing challenge YIPPPEEEE shoutout to olivia rodrigo
ty to the post-pandemic prose and my babies @elliesbelle and @totheblood for pointers :D love yall down
wc;cw: 1.1K, just angst YAAAAY, internalized homophobia, ellies so sad :(, mentions of alcohol
“lf I liked girls,” you slurred, your lips brushing against the shell of Ellie’s ear, the pounding speakers synched with the squeezes in her chest, “I swear t’god… you’d be mine.”
Whenever you drunkenly murmur to her like this, Ellie wishes she didn’t hear you; She was shocked she could over the ruckus happening all around, rattling the bubble she created for the two of you. You always sounded so sure with your lies. They never fail to throw her into fight or flight mode. She tensed and her stomach churned in despair.
“Y’so perfect, Ellie. Love y’so… fuckin’ much. All mine.”
All she could do was nod and whirl you around with a pained smile before burying it into your clothed shoulder. You didn’t bat an eye; You were always the affectionate drunk.
But she wanted to scream. To cry and beg and ask — demand that you fall into her right where you stand. To love her the way she’s loved you since she showed you how to ride a bicycle in elementary school. She flinched at every delicate kiss you planted on her neck, her hands squeezing at your hips. She doesn’t know if she wants to push or pull you closer.
She knows. Her arms enclosed around your waist and you giggle into her skin.
This is exactly how you two should be. She’s envisioned it since middle school: completely infatuated and engulfed in each other, secluded off in your own little world filled with nothing but solace. Closeness. Affection and desire.
So why was she sick to her stomach at your scent? Lavender and sage no longer brought her the comfort that they used to in adolescence. She was being torn apart from the inside out, but she couldn’t scream.
She only listened, digested every drunk fallacy that you directed to her in secret. With no one watching. No one ever watched. No one could know. That was your only rule when she climbed through your window months prior. Please just keep it between us, you’d whispered before leaning in to kiss her.
At least Ellie could imagine that this was real as she held you tight: recreate the same image in her mind over and over. The two of you are together and happy to be in love with no selfishness or regrets in her mind. All she had to do was close her eyes, and you were all hers, just like you said. She’s so, so in love with you.
But you didn’t want her. You never did.
She’s instantly reminded of that day a few months ago. The memory feels like a ghost over her shoulder; Maybe that’s why she’s constantly peeking over it, picking at it with her nails.
The two of you often reserved study rooms during exam season for review, but you had other plans. You were exactly where you were supposed to be — room 213 — but you weren’t by yourself.
You — beautiful, as always — brought… friends. Friends that Ellie knew, that you knew, didn’t like her. She never actually talked to them, but she always felt… off. She was instantly riddled with anxiety, the books that she checked out ten minutes ago almost hitting the floor as her arms weakened. Sweat pebbled on her forehead as she stood and watched everyone stare at her.
Why did it look like they were all laughing? She couldn’t hear any chuckles, but there was laughter. Someone’s laughing at her. Do they know? You have to know, but do they know about the two of you? About how Ellie feels—
Ellie? you’d called.
… Mhm? she recalls almost fainting.
Your eyes were confused; You knew something was off, and it made her even more nervous.
Sit down, honey. Come meet everyone. You made sure to massage her knee under the table; It always soothed her.
The introductions were surprisingly smooth. Ellie never expected your friends to be so polite considering how rowdy they seemed outside of class. She was pleasantly surprised and put at ease. Until the end of your study session.
Everyone was packing their bags and cracking jokes. Ellie even got a couple laughs out of some of them during the quiet few hours.
Ellie wasn’t sure what came over her, but she eased closer to you, still gathering your books. She relaxed at your scent. When you turned to face her with that gentle smile, her mouth moved on autopilot.
I missed you so much. You never hit me back last night.
Maybe it was the way Ellie said it. She shouldn’t have looked into your eyes the way she did, whispered to you like that, said she missed you with so much devotion. But she did, and she wished she didn’t.
Your smile turned to worry instantaneously, and Ellie’s heart plummeted when your head whipped around the room to check if anyone heard before turning back to her. No one cared.
Ellie felt like she’d been stabbed. It happened so quickly; she probably would’ve missed it if she blinked. Her nails dug into the hardcover of her books, tears jerking in her eyes before she tossed a stiff see you guys later over her shoulder and rushed out the room. You tried to grab her arm, but she shoved you off. She had to fight her instincts so she wouldn’t turn around and apologize for being too rough.
She got back to her dorm and… trashed it while she cried. Disgust and anger flooded her system while she threw her clothes, her trinkets, the photo of you, Ellie, and her mother at your shared high school graduation across the room (she only sobbed harder when she noticed it cracked when it hit the floor). The emotions that rushed through her weren’t even for you, but for herself. Ellie’s own hope destroyed her, and she only has herself to blame.
She should’ve known at the time to never speak to you again, but she loved you. She loves you. Every fiber, every cell of her being lived to see you at your happiest; It’s tortuous how you expose the darkest parts that she wished to keep hidden until the end of time. She hasn’t felt like this since she was a teenager.
And yet, she still swayed you. Kept you close so she could breathe you in. This is the most you allow, at least: physical touch. She knew better than to allow you to mistreat her, but she couldn’t leave you. You both danced until your legs burned, and you fell into her bed the same night.
She forced herself to lay in the massacred mattress that she’d tried to keep made since she was a kid. The least you could do was fluff the pillow you slept on every night.
#ellie williams#ellie williams angst#ellie williams au#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x f!reader#ellie the last of us#ellie x reader#ellie williams tlou#lesbian#works 𖧧࣪#post-pandemic prose
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just thinking ab dealer ellie fucking u in the back seat of her beat up car, pink panties dangling off ur ankle as she grabs u roughly and turns u around so that ur ass is pushed up against her groin. leaving little kisses on ur neck as u whimper and moan ☹️☹️☹️I NEED HER
omfg having your back pressed up against her chest as she plays with your pussy and simultaneously grinds her crotch into your ass is like the best position ever <3 cause not only can she whisper dirty stuff into your ear, she can also pick up the joint, place it inside your quivering lips and make you smoke it 💗 just passing it from your mouth to hers, and when you start whining too much she takes a leisurely drag that’s smoke she blows to the side… “you’re my favorite fuckin’ costumer, y’know that? prettiest girl i’ve ever seen” and her voice is husky and low and guttural and high — and then you moan because she’s speeding up, circling your wet clit like a pro and how can you not, so she lets our a throaty chuckle, “makes the prettiest sounds ive ever fuckin’ heard too… huh, who knew?”
after you’re done you lay your head on top of her firm, naked chest. ellie places a soft kiss on your scalp, and you sheepishly smile and look up at her with pretty doe eyes. “do i get a pretty girl discount then?”
“can take over my whole fuckin’ business if you want… i mean, i’d go totally bankrupt for you”
and funny thing is she is almost bankrupt because she has about ten costumers and six of them are like seniors in high school but still she’d give it all away for you even if that “all” is just the 200$ dollars she has in her bank account and an absurd collection of comic books :(
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⚸⋆Unleashed Desires
⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧
𝓟𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘; academic rival!ellie x fem!reader
𓆰𓆪 SYNOPSIS:: Ellie Williams, your academic rival who always had u beat, One night in a club, she lures you to her dorm where they indulge in a steamy, no-holds-barred fuck session filled with passionate curses and intense pleasure. The lines blur between competition and desire as their taboo passion takes over.
𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂; SMUT!,swearing, porn w little to no plot,degradation (r receiving), strap on usage (r receiving), face slapping (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), hair pulling (e receiving), slight fluff in the end/aftercare,enemies to lovers trope, lmk if I excluded anyth
!! daily click to help !!
From the time you first met Ellie in the first grade, it was clear that you two were constantly competing against each other. It has been that way ever since the two of you started attending the same university. Ellie always finds a way to boast about her achievements, just as she did today when she strutted up to you with a sly grin on her face and boasted about her 98%. She asks you with a smug expression, "So, what did you get?" You grit your teeth as you recall her arrogant remark, trying to resist the surge of anger simmering within you. You decide to put her in her place once and for all. In front of everyone, you pull out your notebook with a confident smile and flip it open, exposing your grade book. With a nonchalant air, you point at the entry with today's score on it – a perfect 100%. The silence that ensues is deafening as Ellie's face turns from smug satisfaction to astonished shock before she can muster up a weak "Congratulations." Her friends exchange glances filled with jealousy while whispering amongst themselves about how ruthlessly they just got beaten by a girl who seemed like an underdog till now. Feeling proud and satisfied, you turn back to whatever task was at hand but don't ignore the sense of accomplishment and pleasure swirling inside you - finally putting that annoying rival in check using sheer talent instead of indulging in immature competitions.
As the day went on, Ellie's attitude towards you took a sharp turn. She couldn't stop talking about her defeat behind your back, trying to defame you in front of their group of friends. You overheard snippets of her insulting comments, mocking your success and even hinted at rumors she spread about you. At one point, during lunch break, she brazenly bumps into you as she carries her tray full of food from the cafeteria line, causing both trays to clash and spilling food all over yours. Her eyes filled with hatred as she sneered out "Clumsy bitch" You clench your teeth before responding sharply "Oh fuck off williams, it’s actually soooo fuckin pathetic how worked up your getting over me getting a better grade." Your words send a chill down her spine as people around them pause and look at you two with surprise etched on their faces.In response, Ellie scoffs derisively "Fucking lucky then! Bet you rely on tutors to keep those grades high." This sends a flash of anger inside you which compels you to grab hold of one side of her arm forcefully and hiss through gritted teeth You grab Ellie's arm in a tight grip, eyes blazing as you seethe with frustration. "Don't even fucking dare insinuate that" Your tone is aggressive, causing her friends to quickly move away, realizing this argument between you two is about to escalate. "I work my ass off for those grades, no tutor needed! And unlike your stuck up self who only brags about fake achievements," your voice drops menacingly low, "I earn mine the hard way." Ellie looks at you with disdain mixed with fear before pulling her arm away roughly from your grasp. "Whatever helps you sleep at night knowing some geek like you actually tops me," she sneers mockingly before turning on her heels and storming off. Despite ur harsh words exchanged earlier and the bitter taste left in your mouths from this exchange; something inside both of you starts simmering - an intriguing mix of anger coupled with an undeniable attraction towards each other which neither one dares acknowledge out loud just yet.
A few weeks later, you catch a glimpse of Ellie from across the dimly lit club standing at the bar with a drink in hand. Ellie wore a loose muscle tee with a faded logo, crop top of a band you couldn’t recognize. The shirt cut off just above her toned midriff, showing the hem of her branded boxer shorts peeking out. And u couldn’t deny, Her muscular body looks so fucking good under the neon lights of the club. As you saunter over to to the bar, she smirks cockily "Look who decided to grace us with her presence." Her sarcasm is evident yet it doesn't bother you as much as it usually would. You move unconsciously closer to her, catching Ellie's gaze as she takes a swig from her beer bottle. A challenge lingers in her eyes as if daring you to make the first move. Suddenly, you blurt out "Wanna get outta here?" Ellie shrugs indifferently, taking one last sip of her beer before tossing it in a nearby trash bin and following you without another word. The silence between you two fills the air as Ellie trails behind you through the empty halls of their dorm building. Each stride she takes sends a shiver down your spine - her presence creating an undercurrent of desire that's hard to ignore. Once inside her room, she kicks off her converse and throws herself onto one of her plush couches; clearly, she expects something to happen now.
You hesitate for a moment before deciding to break the tension "Ellie..." You trail off nervously, not knowing how exactly to voice out what's brewing between both of you. Ellie lifts her head and looks at you with a blend of curiosity and amusement "What is it?" Her gaze intensifies as she takes in your nervous demeanour. In response, you step closer to her until their bodies are almost touching. Your lips part as if to confess the feelings that have been brewing inside you for weeks now when suddenly, Ellie pulls you closer and claims your mouth in a rough kiss; her hands gripping the sides of your hips as she deepens the kiss, You're startled by her unexpected move, but you don't resist as Ellie pulls you in. Her lips are rough and demanding, sending electric shocks straight to your core. She tugs on your jeans, pulling them down; revealing your bare legs to her hungry eyes. she slowly pulling your shirt up, then unclasping ur bra. Your hands find their way to her hair, entwining themselves gently as she continues devouring your mouth hungrily. She kisses you deep, her tongue pushing against your lips until you open up for her. Her hands are everywhere, gripping your ass cheeks hard as she pulls you closer. You moan into the kiss, your body aching for more. Without breaking the kiss, Ellie pushes you back onto the couch; pinning you beneath her body with her muscular frame.
Her lips trailing down your jawline, kissing and nipping gently on your skin. You shiver at the sensation, needing her closer than ever. hissing between her teeth as she rubs against the soft fabric covering your damp pussy.
You're panting now, desperate for more of her touch. She slips two fingers beneath your panties, stroking your wet folds roughly. "You're so fucking wet." She mumbles against your skin before pulling back to look you in the eye. fuckin tease. Your breath hitches as she trails her finger along your bottom lip - a silent command to guide her further. Without hesitation, you reach down and tug her fingers towards your dripping pussy, inviting her to dive deeper. She obliges eagerly, pushing two more fingers inside you; stretching you gently as she curls them to hit your sweet spot. You throw your head back with a moan, gripping the couch beneath you as waves of pleasure wash over you. Ellie's fingers are relentless, pounding your core hard as she swirls them around until you're on the verge of cumming. She adds a third finger, stretching you even more; making your walls clench desperately around her digits. You whine loudly, urging her closer "Ellie... please..."
She leans down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss as she picks up speed; driving you over the edge with a fierce orgasm that has you crying out loudly.
You collapse against the couch, panting heavily as she continues to stroke you gently until your climax fades. She pulls her fingers out of your damp folds and brings them up to her mouth; sucking them clean with a satisfied moan. Her eyes meet yours, filled with lust and desire "I've wanted you for so long," She murmurs before climbing onto you completely; positioning herself over your breasts as she grinds against your still sensitive pussy. Your hips buck up automatically, desperate for her touch. She slides her sweaty pussy along your soft skin, moaning softly as she picks up speed. You reach up to stroke her hair and kisses down the side of her face; She pulls back to look down at you, her eyes smouldering with a wicked intention. "I want all of you." Without waiting for your consent - she slides off your body and hops down from the couch. Making her way over to a nearby drawer, she rummages around until she pulls out a purple strap on She comes back towards you, her eyes filled with lust as she gazes down at your glistening pussy.
Without any warning or preamble - she positions herself between your thighs once again, running the strap on along your wet slit. You let out a sharp intake of breath, arching your back as she pushes the hard plastic shaft against your entrance. "gnna make you feel s’good mama, gonna be a good little slut f’me ‘nd lemme fuck u with my cock huh?," She smirks down at you, pushing the strap on inside you slowly and deliberately until it fills you completely. She begins to thrust slowly and sensually, your moans growing louder as she hits all the right spots. She picks up speed, slapping against your skin in perfect sync with your eager cries of pleasure. You wrap your legs around her waist, clinging tightly to her as she pumps harder into you - stretching you full and satisfying every craving deep within you. Ellie's relentless pace sends a fiery heat spreading through your entire body - you moan loudly, feeling her hitting the perfect spot over and over again. She grinds against you more forcefully, biting her bottom lip in pleasure; "You're such a fucking slut for my cock." Her words send a shudder through you as she slaps your face gently - leaving behind an electrifying sting. Ellie pulls your hair, twisting it gently as she slams her hips into you harder.
"You love it don't you? You're a dirty little slut who wants every inch of my dick." She slaps you again, this time a bit harder; leaving a red handprint on your cheek while maintaining her intense rhythm inside you.
Ellie groans loudly, her body tensing up as she pulls you closer. "You've been such a little brat all these years... so fucking impatient... needing this cock so badly..." She slams herself into you once more, hitting that sweet spot with deadly accuracy; sending shivers down your spine. She continues her ferocious pounding as you pant breathlessly - your body craving more. "please don't stop," You whisper between gritted teeth, desperation coloring every word.
Ellie smirks down at you, pinching one of your nipples roughly - making you arch up into her even more. the strap on bumping against her clit- Ellie slams into you forcefully, her breathing growing heavier as she nears her climax. "That's it baby, fuckin’ take it..m’so close." She bangs harder against your g-spot - every stroke igniting sparks deep within you. You feel your orgasm building up, a fierce heat engulfing you - making it impossible to hold back any longer. "Ellie fuck im gonna-" Your cries are loud and desperate as waves of pleasure crash over you; Ellie gasps out her own climax moments later - her entire body trembling against yours.
Once she's finished cleaning you up, "here u go," she said as She tossed you an oversized t-shirt and some boxers to change into. Ellie pulls you into her arms; cradling your head on her chest. She strokes your hair gently - whispering soothing words that help chase away the lingering afterglow. You melt into her embrace, feeling safe and content in her arms. "thank u," You murmur against her soft shirt as she runs a comforting finger along your cheek.
#ellie tlou2#ellie williams#ellie williams the last of us#ellie williams x reader#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader#ellie x you#ellie smut#ellie tlou#ellie williams smut#wlw#lesbian#queer#Spotify
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I might be a complete slut to think about it, but imagine dealer!ellie coming in from a night when business wasn't good, and fucking you with the strap to take out her frustration
we’re all sluts here *spoken like the cheshire cat*
all circuits are busy, goodbye
🎀 weed mentions but no smoking of it, ellie is frustrated, mentions of dealing, strap on sex lol, daddy kink, ellie gets a call and answers it during, another lana title from the song dealer how ironic, brief breeding kink ?? i hate this a lot btw
“fuck, man.” ellie sighed as she pushed the door to her dorm open — brows pinched and jaw tense, backpack already slumping down by the door in its usual spot. you sat up from her bed where you were laid down reading, dressed in just an incredibly oversized shirt that she had stolen a long time ago from joel and a pair of socks having had a shower and forgot to bring more underwear. you frowned at her glum demeanour as she harshly unzipped her jacket and threw it aside — not even caring to hang it up.
“wha’s wrong?” you asked sleepily, glancing at the clock as you placed your book aside— only to see she was home much earlier than she usually would be from one of these parties.
“waste of fuckin’ time.” she leant down slightly, lifting her black backpack off the ground just a little as she looked at you pointedly. “see how heavy that is? s’not money in there— it’s all the shit i left this room with.” she threw the bag aside, walking further into the dorm and groaning, hands clasping at the back of her neck as she tipped her head back.
“m’sorry els. bad business is the worst.” you sighed.
“and fuckin’ — then — before i’ve even sold shit, i get word that the cops were outside tryna shut the party down cos’ of noise complaints — so i had to haul ass over the fence in the backyard and get the hell out of there.” she divulges, talking expressively with her hands the same way she always did when she got super passionate. you wanted to smile at this, but didn’t wanna piss her off.
“that sucks.” you pout sympathetically, not wanting to take any of the limelight as you knew she’d probably feel better once she vented.
“i blew off that other party for this one thinking those rich kids would empty their pockets but no— man, i should have hit the other one.” her voice raised a little in frustration, eyes scrunching up in stress.
“s’okay, ellie. there’s always next time.” you reassured and for the first time she actually stopped to take you in for a moment. your bare legs hung off the bed, her tshirt barely covering the necessities. you opened your arms to her and she stepped forward— angry frown still etched onto her face before she let you hug her. the hug lasted about two seconds, before she took your face in her grip and kissed you. you let out a soft moan, her usual kisses long forgotten and to be replaced with a rougher version of her — someone a little frustrated and still very much in love. she kissed you until she was a little out of breath and you could feel your arousal dampening your folds.
she pushed into you with her kiss, making you lean back until you were laying down. your hand tugged the tshirt between your legs to cover your indecency, your hips still on full display, shirt having ridden up. ellie pulled back, standing back up and gazed at you, eyes dropping to the way you covered yourself modestly. she pushed your hand away without a word, panting from the makeout session and the t-shirt dropped from your hand and landed just below your belly button, your bare pussy left on full display. your legs were a little spread from the position she’d laid you in, and you were embarrassed to feel her eyes on your wet heat.
you were sitting up on your elbows, waiting for her next move as you stared up at her with wide doe eyes as if requiring instruction. she wet her lips, hands finally sliding up your thighs as she hovered over you. “need a little something from you.” she whispered, like it was your little secret.
she leant down and kissed you, giving you limited space to reply. “anything els. can do anything.” you whispered back eagerly, between kisses gazing up at her with an expression she can only describe as eager to please.
she pushed your thigh open, head bowing to look at between your legs between kisses. “yeah? gonna let me fuck you? need to fuck you baby.” her kisses sped up, barely giving herself room to speak as you felt her hands start to roam you — touching and squeezing everywhere until you were whining into her mouth.
“mhm, take it out on me.” you whimpered and she hummed in approval. she pulled away without warning and slid two hands beneath you, flipping you to lay on your front with a quiet yelp. without skipping a beat, she pulled you by your legs and slid you towards the edge of the bed til your ass was pressed to her thighs where she stood. she gave your ass a good natured slap before stepping down to get her strap, but not before she stuffed a folded pillow beneath your hips and pressed a kiss to your back. “always my good girl.”
•
you were pretty sure the base of the strap was wrecked with your pearly cum as ellie pounded you from behind, hands pressing down on your back exactly where she needed you. the arousal that had gathered at the base of the plastic attached to ellie’s harness created to a string against your ass cheek everytime she tugged you back to the tip of her cock. “fuckin’ messy pup.” she spoke through grit teeth before groaning when you clenched, creating more tension that pushed back against her own cunt through the harness. “don’t even remember what got me so fucked up.” she breathed out a chuckle as she pulled her tshirt up, so that her sports bra was on display slightly. she tucked the tshirt beneath her chin so she had a better view of you fucking against her. “shit, m’not even nearly done with you. could keep fuckin’ you like this all night. bet you’d like that, huh?” she gave your ass a light slap to prompt a reply — which you gave her in the form of a whine.
“just wanted to be helpful, daddy.” you were so fucked out you had no idea what was coming out of your mouth and you didn’t mind, you loved being in this mindset actually — so submissive that everything else just melted away. everything was ellie.
she didn’t get to respond, because her phone loudly buzzed out it’s ringtone besides you, her phone having been briefly chucked from her pocket when she was strapping up to get out the way. “you’re fucking kidding me.” she groaned quietly, and you expected her to click decline — surprised when she shoved the phone against her ear, tucking it against her shoulder as she used two hands to continue to pull you on and off her cock. you gasped into the sheets, doing your best to stay quiet.
“what, dude. make it quick.” you could tell she was trying to sound like she had enough oxygen in her lungs to resume conversation and if you weren’t so thoroughly fucked out you’d have laughed. you wondered if he could hear the sound of your ass slapping against her thighs as she sped up her thrusts.
“fuck no, i left. is that all? because i’m real fuckin’ busy right now and i’d rather — yes, okay whatever. just don’t call this phone til’ the morning, asshole.”
she’d slapped decline and tossed the phone back on the bed and you let out a relieved moan. at the sound she pulled out and rolled you over, rushing to pull your hips back to where she needed them as she leant over you to kiss you desperately. “good girl, stayed quiet.” she noted briefly and you felt the tip push against your hole again before she was sinking back in, the both of you moaning at just how easy it was. her hand slot between the two of you to grind against your clit as she readjusted. “you deserve… fuck, wanna cum inside that pretty pussy.” she whispered, almost to herself — but the idea was enough to hurtle you closer to another orgasm.
but, you pocketed the idea for now, making mental note to google breeding straps.
#ellie williams x reader#dealer!ellie#ellie williams prompt#ellie williams smut#ellie williams drabble
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hit me, part 2.5 (bonus baby)
wc: 1.1k, unedited warnings: swearing/language a/n: im sooooo tired so im sorry if this stinks. but anyway. I hope you guys like it regardless. ALSO wanted to also remind everyone that my requests are wide open ;)!! tags: @elliewilliamsmunch@intrnetdoll@me-and-your-husband@3zae-zae3@milahnoz@elliescumm@dragonasflowercrown@starpix@nopealoupe@annamommyy@muthafuckingstargirl
-j
part 1
part 1.5
part 2
Another meek chime rings out from your bed, calling to you, forcing you to slam your textbook shut out of frustration.
You’d been studying for maybe four hours at this point. It was far past dark, the sky now an opaque charcoal. Your eyes are aching. Your back is sore. It was time to take a break.
You hop on your bed, body weight causing it to gently bounce you up and down a few times.
You click your phone on.
New message from (+14556768854)
New message from (+14556768854)
Image from (+14556768854)
New message from (+14556768854)
New message from (+14556768854)
You hesitantly open it up, eyes squinting and head shunned like it might be something unsavory.
(+14556768854)
hey
can u tell me if this looks serious
IMG_5354 [Click to Download]
pls respond
y/n
Your heart lurches.
These texts were from Ellie.
Instantly on edge, and you frantically poke the image link to see it, tapping it repeatedly as if that would speed it up. It buffers, agonizingly, and you prepare yourself to see a grotesque and mangled amalgamation of colors in the next few seconds.
It finally loads.
You scan it quickly, studying and prodding the image with your eyes.
Your mouth flattens.
It’s…just a picture of her flexing.
Your thumbs type at an alarming speed.
that was not fuckijng funny
You throw your phone back at your mattress, deciding to ignore whatever nonsense Ellie will respond with.
It chimes immediately.
You regretfully pick it back up, still angry, and open to read what she says.
lol
“…Fucking stupid…” you mutter, already typing at your response.
im serious
thats not why i gave u my number
ok
why then
You roll your eyes, memory already recalling a couple of days ago, where you very clearly and very obviously told her why.
for emergencies
or if u need me for something important idk
i dont wanna see your thirst traps
You knew that last part was a lie before you even typed it out. That picture she sent was not what you were expecting, but it still turned your insides to mush. It still had you a bit uneasy, nauseous even. Ellie had power over your body like that.
hmmm
i have an emergency
really bad one
You wait on her answer, skeptically, watching those three dots dance around in circles.
im hungry
You let out a sigh.
Then you click your phone off, throwing it elsewhere, and dejectedly gazing at the textbook sitting on your desk. Your professor would want you to, right?
Your phone interrupts you again, noisily snatching your attention with its sounds and jostling your focus from the book.
The sounds don’t stop.
Fuck, you think. Your phone is ringing.
You jerk to pick it up, fingers fumbling it, until finally you’re able to click ‘answer’ and bring it to your ear.
You’re quiet, hoping Ellie will speak first.
“Hi.” a voice says, and you quickly connect that it’s just Ellie’s, sleep riddled and raspy.
“…Hi.”
“So…what’d you think?”
Your eyebrows crease.
“Of what?”
“'Of what?' Of my fuckin’ progress, that’s what! Anthony has me eating, like, six whole chickens a week.” she boasts.
“Oh. I didn’t really…see?…I guess? I don’t know…”
“I mean—I’ve gained almost 30 this year.”
You remain confused. Is that a lot…?
Ellie must understand your silence for what it is and continues.
“Pounds, princess. Muscle. I’m getting fuckin’ huge.”
Oh.
“Okay—I got it now. Um…congrats, then.”
“What, that’s it? That’s all you got for me?”
“I—I don’t know!” you defend, voice coming out a bit louder and higher. “Your muscles look—like, big, all the time! I can’t tell the difference!”
She laughs loudly into the receiver, and you can’t help the smile you wear, hearing it so amplified in your ear.
“You need more pictures? I got more pictures.” she assures.
Simultaneous with her voice, you feel the sharp vibration and hear the dingy chime of your phone.
“Just took that one. You should look at it.” she adds, tone low but casual.
You deeply blush, feeling exposed despite being so alone in your bedroom.
“…Okay.” you agree, sliding the phone off your face to open it up.
A mirror reflection of Ellie’s back fills your screen, stretched and taut into a flexed pose. Her arms are out beside her head, clenched impossibly tight, in effort to completely portray her physique. Your eyes flick down, noticing in the image that she’s wearing only boxers.
She just took that picture?
The air in your room feels warmer, hotter than ever, so you strip down to a tank top and underwear. It feels wrong, almost. Talking to Ellie with this much skin showing. Her not knowing.
“Hello? You there?” Ellie loudly repeats over the speaker, audio fuzzy and weak.
You grasp your phone back up, stuttering out a response.
“Yeah—yes, here. I’m here.”
“'Kay. Your turn.”
You almost drop the device completely.
“My turn?”
“Fair’s only fair, right?”
“…Ellie…” you protest, skin burning with even the idea of her seeing you.
“C’mon, please? I took mine already, you can’t go back.”
You say nothing, whole body sweating, hoping and praying she’ll just forget about it.
“…I wanna see you.” she admits, voice warm and fuzzy through the speaker.
Your cheeks erupt red, a sense of burning flowing throughout your whole body at her words. You curl up, thighs squeezing at themselves, and try to answer.
“But—I’m…I’m in…pajamas.” you whisper, looking down at your bare legs and sheer top.
“You are? Even better.”
“I—I don’t know—”
“You really don’t have to. I’ll live, princess. I promise.”
Your body relaxes entirely, a breath of pure relief leaving your lips, as well as a forceful yawn. Ellie must’ve heard it through the phone.
“Aww—you tired? Should I hang up?”
“No! Don’t hang up! I want to keep talking! I was studying before so I’m a little—a little out of it but—”
“Nope. I’m hangin’ up. Princess needs her beauty sleep.”
“What—no, Ellie.” you argue, albeit lazily, as the energy you have left is truly running low.
“I’ll be here in the morning, won’t I? Good-niiiight—” she lulls, drawing out the last word.
“No! Don’t hang up! Ellie!”
On the other end of the phone, there’s only quiet.
An abyss of silence.
“…Ellie?” you try, voice small.
Nothing.
Your mouth purses, frustrated, as you listen to the absent noise through the speaker.
Still nothing.
You flip over, hostilely pulling the comforter over yourself and crashing your head into the pillow. You feel cold, but you know an extra blanket or some layers wouldn’t make you any warmer. Only she could.
Before you can shut your eyes, the chime sporadically rings out again, and you find yourself rapidly grasping the phone from your mattress.
Immediately you unlock it.
(+14556768854)
sweet dreams
dont let the bed bugs bute
fuck
bite *
call you tomorrow
Your eyelids finally shut, the weight of the day keeping them closed indefinitely. Your limbs go lax, succumbing to exhaustion.
You permit yourself to fall asleep, now knowing fully, that you will have the sweetest of dreams.
#ellie x reader#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie fic#ellie williams x reader#lesbian#tlou#tlou part 2#catsfor2
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can you write hcs of ellie being a simp gf 🫶🏻
SO INLOVE
warnings: i don’t really know what to put here tbh.. cutesy fluff stuff. 18+ smut included. oral (r receiving). thigh riding (also r receiving).
this was super fun to write man. i loved it 10/10. 💕💕 thank you for the ask. this is technically the first smut i’ve ever written, if you’d even count this as smut. be kind. 🥲
—————
simpgf!ellie who always has to have her hands on you.
you could be doing something as simple as reading a book and she’s there, head on your stomach , hand trailing up under your shirt.
she loves to hold your hand too. just when you’re walking through jackson or when she’s between your thighs.
she has you spread open for her, one hand holding your thigh down. her tongue swirling around your clit occasionally sucking. she uses her free hand to hold yours when you’re about to cum, talking you through it.
“that’s it. good fuckin’ girl.”
simpgf!ellie who loves kissing you.
normally ellie isn’t one for pda but with you she doesn’t care. kissing you where ever and infront of whoever.
she doesn’t neglect kissing you when she’s upset either, sure she might grip your neck a little harder than necessary when she’s dragging your face to hers to place the kiss on your lips. never hard enough to hurt you though.
she doesn’t care if you’re wearing lipgloss either. you’d try and stop her reminding her how she doesn’t like the sticky feeling of it,
“baby, lipgloss. it’s gonna be on your lips.”
“i don’t care. kiss me.” she’d pout cutely until you finally did. standing patiently as you took your thumb and wiped the thin layer of gloss off of her lips.
sometimes when you’d wear the pretty colored lipstick you found on patrol and kissed her cheek, neck, forehead she wouldn’t let you wipe off the mark it left. telling you it’s your special way of claiming her, (even though everyone already knows she’s yours).
simpgf!ellie who loves waking up with you.
loving the messy bed head look you wake up with, your hair sticking up in all directions and mouth dry.
sometimes you would wake up to her trailing her fingers through your hair, separating tangles gently when she came across them.
other times when you’d wake before her she would have you locked in her arms. your legs tangled together and you trapped in her arms.
at first you feel safe, admiring her pretty face while she holds you. after awhile you’d try to wiggle out, whispering her name.
“els, i gotta pee…”
“shhh, m’sleeping”
eventually you’d wiggle enough and whine enough that she would let you go, urging you to go fast and come back.
on special mornings after you would both wake up you wouldn’t even make it out of the bed before your lips are crashing urgently. her thigh pushing up against your clothed center as you grind down, letting little moans slip into her mouth.
simpgf!ellie who helps you when you can’t sleep.
she would make you snacks if you said that’s what you needed to sleep.
she’d rub your back for hours if it got you to sleep easier, whispering reassurances as her hand drew little shapes on your back.
“i’ve got you…”
at first she was against it but once she saw how fast humming little songs would get you to sleep it’d be her go-to. humming to you everywhere. when you couldn’t sleep, when you were crying, when you just needed ellie to hold you.
simpgf!ellie who talks about you to everyone.
“dina,” she would try to keep a straight face but ultimately end up with the biggest grin on her face. “she found me a brand new case of colored pencils AND a new sketchbook for my birthday. we’re in an apocalypse man. how does she do it?”
dina would smile, happy ellie found her person. even happier that it was her bestfriend she found it in.
sometimes when she couldn’t contain herself she would even brag to jesse. “she did my hair like this for me when we woke up,” she gestures at the 2 braids leading into a little ponytail at the middle of her head, otherwise it’s her normal half up half down hairstyle. “bet dina doesn’t do your hair in the mornings.”
“what? of course she doesn’t, i don’t have enough hair for that- you’re such a fucking simp.”
“yup.” she grins cheekily. “so inlove with her.”
#THIS IS SO CUTE#I HAD SM FUN#i love her sm#ellie williams x reader#the last of us#ellie williams fic#tlou#tlou2#ellie williams x fem!reader#ellie tlou#ellie williams smut#ellie smut#ellie williams x you#ellie williams fluff#ellie x reader#tlou headcanons#ellie headcanons#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams drabble#ellie the last of us#tlou x reader#ellie williams#mimi answers! ❆
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tear you apart | ellie williams
˗ˏˋ"if your friends won't watch over you, i will." ´ˎ˗
pairing ellie wiliams x fem reader
synopsis ellie owns her own vinyl store and the day you wander in changes both of your lives forever. she quickly becomes infatuated with you, desperate for your love that she believes is meant to be. when things in your life begin to spiral, ellie is there to catch you, but you'd never suspect she was the reason you fell in the first place.
heavily heavily based on the book/tv show "you" on netflix
wordcount 4k
warnings gosh where do i start, stalking both cyber and in person, ellie is obsessive, manipulative, a gaslighter, a pervert lowkey, possessive and easily jealous, she breaks into readers apartment and goes thru your stuff, shes also so delusional like top tier delulu, shes based off joe goldberg so i mean put the pieces together. this is all from her perspective, most if not all of the inner monologue is ellie's thoughts about you, the italics is verbatim what she is thinking in that very moment if that makes sense. like joe, all of her actions are justified in her mind, and she doesn't see anything wrong with them. reader has a dysfunctional family. pls lmk if i am missing something!
authors note hi hello hi, i have been so excited to post this!! just wanted to clarify this rn, i am bringing in a LOT of elements from the book and show, especially in this part, if it seems very similar thats why. i don't plan on following the plot line for season one, but i needed a good base to jump off of, dont hate me. n yes, readers best friend is shauna from yellowjackets i couldn't help myself. i needed a girl group, sue me. cat is apart of this girl group, not ellie's ex along w dina, also not ellie's ex in this au lol
fuckin’ trash, ellie thought to herself, looking over the torn up vinyl in her hands. the guy who returned it obviously had no fucking clue how to take care of something. especially something so needing of love. she placed the vinyl down on the counter beside the register before stepping into the back of the store, grabbing her tools of restoration. as she rummaged through a drawer, the familiar bell rang from the front door indicating a new customer, but she ignored it and continued searching for the sandpaper she always left laying around somewhere. the last drawer she opened was the winner, taking her supplies, she emerged from the small room into the front of the store, the beads in the doorway swaying as she walked through them.
thats when her eyes found you, examining the vinyl left on the counter. you hadn’t noticed her yet, too engrossed in the mishandled vinyl. she watched you for a moment as you looked it over, tracing the scratches that lined it. to ellie, you looked to be the definition of a nice girl. sporting a flowy sundress that laid just below your ass. nice girl who likes attention, she thought to herself, looking you up and down from afar.
she played it cool, keeping her eyes on the sandpaper and cloth in her hands as she made her way back to the counter. you finally took notice of her when she stood in front of you. “oh, hi,” you smiled brightly, to which ellie looked up. “whoever handled this vinyl should be in jail.” a sense of humor, ellie smiled at you, letting a breathy laugh fall from her lips. and an appreciation for vinyls, rare.
“a life sentence, for sure.” she spoke, and you laughed. a laugh that was genuine, not forced by politeness.
“can you point me to where i could find a david bowie album, ellie?” you asked sweetly, and she had to remember she wore a name tag. flirting with me and you like david bowie? ellie’s grateful its a tuesday afternoon, the store is dead. giving her more time to talk with you. you, who seemed to never stop smiling at her.
“against the wall,” she pointed. “third box from the left.” she lets you wander over yourself, taking the time to admire the way you carry yourself. you had a pair of red, heart shaped sunglasses resting on your head. ellie could tell you liked to pay attention to details, it was evident in the way you matched your sunglasses to your dress, and she wondered just how many pairs you owned. both short dresses and uniquely designed sunglasses together. her head tilted at the thought, switching her over chewed gum to the other side of her mouth.
you rifled through the box as ellie’s gaze pierced your back, although you were seemingly unaware. david bowie, she thought again. not another stuck up gen z who only listens to who is in the top one hundred, no. no, you were special. ellie put her focus onto the vinyl in front of her, slowly dampening it with the cloth before grinding the sandpaper over the scratches. but she kept you in her peripheral vision and she couldn’t help but notice you were struggling to find a specific one, or at least it looked like it.
“need help?” she asked you, keeping her voice neutral.
your body turned to face her, meeting her eyes and a faux pout on your lips.“i think the only one i want isn’t here, or i’m seriously blind.”
ellie chuckled, coming out from behind the counter, “my money’s on blind, just organized this box a few days ago.”
you huffed lightly, standing to the side while she approached you and the box. “i can’t find the rise and fall of ziggy stardust, it’s one of my favorites.”
of course it is. ellie barely looked in the box before she saw the album, pulling it out and holding it out for you. “i’ll book your eye appointment,” she said with a light grin.
“ugh, my hero,” you gushed, taking the album from her hands gently. i’ll always be your hero, but something tells ellie that you didn’t really need her help to begin with.
“c’mon, i’ll ring you up,” ellie led you back to the register and you placed the vinyl down on the counter lightly.
“promise i won’t do what that guy did,” you joked, reaching into your bag for your wallet.
ellie almost wishes you would. you’d come in a few days later, apologizing for being so clumsy but asking if she could fix it for you. of course, she would say yes. how could she say no to someone like you? “you couldn’t if you tried, pretty sure he did it on purpose.”
“what makes you say that?”
“just a hunch,” ellie shrugs, scanning the barcode on the vinyl.
“maybe his dogs got it, or worse, his kids.” you kept eye contact as you spoke, which shocked ellie. a lot of people would break away, divert conversation, maybe even stay silent all together. but not you.
“if that guy had kids, i’d feel bad for them,” to a lot of people, this comment would rub them the wrong way, and ellie internally cursed herself for saying it. you’re a sweetheart in her eyes, someone who wouldn’t think things like that, but again, you laughed. the transaction was almost over and she was grasping at straws, so she kept going. “guys like him blame everything on everyone else, i wouldn’t be surprised if his kids actually hated him but,”
your head tilted, waiting for more. to ellie, it looked like you were hanging onto every word she said. and she relished in it. “–thats only if someone wanted to have kids with him, which i highly doubt.”
“from what i’m hearing it doesn’t sound like anyone would want to,” you’re trusting my judgment. ellie’s lips curled up with your words, and she bagged the vinyl in a plastic bag. you handed her a credit card, which was decorated with flowers along with your name. and you want me to know your name. you could’ve used cash, the vinyl was less than twenty dollars. but no, ellie knew better and she knew you better. your eyes found the scratched up vinyl yet again, “but you can fix it?”
ellie swiped the card against her own wishes. she’d give you the whole store if you asked with that pretty smile. “it’ll be back in the box within the hour, why? you like pink floyd?”
“yeah, for the most part. i haven’t listened to that album yet,”
“i can put it on hold for you.” ellie rushes out, and she feels like she came on too strong. you could easily listen to it on spotify but she reminds herself that you’re in her store for a reason. you probably own a vinyl player, an older model you got off of facebook marketplace because the newer ones don’t match your personality. maybe a pioneer or a yamaha, and now shes thinking about how you probably dance around your room listening to music. your response breaks her from her imagination.
“that’d be great, thanks ellie,” but she can see it so perfectly in her mind, you’d wear a big t-shirt and a dainty pair of underwear. twirling and spinning about, the t-shirt riding up as you did and as you stood in front of her in that short dress her mind seemed to unravel and she had to clear her throat.
“anytime–” she tacked your name at the end of her words with a smile, handing back your card which you very quickly put in your wallet. her eyes glanced down for a split second, admiring how the dress pushed your tits together before bringing them back up to your face.
“aren’t you going to tell me to have a good day?” you teased much to ellie’s enjoyment, reaching out for the bag she was holding for you.
“have a good day,” your fingers grazed hers, and ellie knew it had to be on purpose. a flirt, and a good one at that.
“you too, ellie. i’ll be back for that album.”
you left the store as quickly as you came, taking your sweet vanilla scent with you. ellie thought about your interaction all day, it consumed her walk home and when she entered her small apartment she fell to her couch and opened her laptop.
plugging your name into any and all social medias was easy, who could forget a name like yours? all your accounts were public, and very quickly ellie could tell just what kind of person you were. the sweet girl who loved vinyls who had an addiction to posting online. your twitter was filled with random, obscure thoughts and always with a hashtag at the end of them. from time to time you’d tweet about where you were, and ellie tsk’d out loud to herself. anyone could find you within seconds, you need to be more careful. you seemed to tweet about everything in your life and ellie refreshed the page, wishing to see a post about the cute girl in the vinyl shop who helped you find your favorite album.
yet, there was nothing. and for a moment it hurt her, but the more she thought about it, it was better you didn’t post about her. that means it was real for you, hope remains.
facebook provided the basics of your family, although the account was inactive. but your parents who divorced a few years back seemed to only post about your younger siblings, leaving her to wonder if they didn’t approve of your lifestyle in the city. she stalked their pages like it was her job and at this point it felt like it was. she discovered that your two younger siblings went off to college out west and your parents even sold their home to be closer to them while still living separate lives. ellie felt pity for you, how could they just leave you behind?
your instagram feed was an aesthetic one, pictures posted solely to appease your followers. a pretty sunset here, a mirror selfie there, a quick post about the food from the restaurant just down the road from ellie’s shop. there were also posts about your own art, colorful and detailed, just like yourself. a painting you did was the last thing you posted, but this one wasn’t like your other ones, it was black and white and had a lonely floating balloon in the center and the borders were lined with overlapping words. ellie could make out only a few of them, ‘melancholy’, ‘nobody’, and ‘distress’.
there were lots of group pictures of you with friends. ellie could see you looked more authentic than them, who all seemed to resemble something out of a factory for young adults. you were a pearl in a sea of clams.
out of curiosity, ellie brought herself to your friend’s pages as well. she needed to see the types of people you spent time with, seeing if they were someone she would approve of for you. one friend made an appearance more than others and she assumed that was your so-called best friend, a spunky city girl named shauna. her own instagram was like an influencer’s guide to posting online, and she seemed like someone ellie would avoid at all costs. shauna’s posts of you always had you in the background, or if you were directly in the frame it was a candid where shauna looked better. she's making herself look better at your own expense, can't you see that?
your other friend’s social media were bland and unhelpful. ellie brought herself back to the task at hand. she typed your name into google and watched the loading screen. your name brought up a string of links all connecting back to your art pieces you’ve submitted to local papers and art galleries. an artist in new york city, aren’t you ambitious. maybe your parents didn’t like the instability of being an artist. but yet, you still pursue your passion. its admirable.
what also popped up was a white pages link, with a few clicks, and a small charge to her credit card she found exactly what she was looking for. there wasn’t much she could do with your phone number, texting you would be creepy. there was no way for her to explain how she got it, so the next best thing was your address. which, lucky for ellie, was only six blocks from her own.
if she could find it this easily, she needed to make sure that no one else did. which is how she found herself standing across the street from your apartment, peering into the windows that had no blinds, no curtains, no protection from the outside world. you were on full display for all of new york. first thing were doing together is buying you blinds. you were lounging around on your coach, scrolling through your phone and periodically shifting in your spot to get more comfortable.
it was dark now, and again, luckily for ellie, someone standing on the sidewalk of new york wasn’t a weird thing to do and no one paid her any mind. for days she would stand in the same spot, studying your movements throughout your apartment. sometimes you would go to bed on the early side, but most nights you were fully awake, sipping something out of a purple mug which she could only assume was coffee, and drawing lines on a canvas.
everytime you would take a break and scroll through your phone, ellie would refresh every social media, waiting for a post. your fingers danced on the keyboard and after a few refreshes on ellie’s end, your twitter had a new post.
@yndoesartstuff: if anyone has tips on how not to procrastinate finishing a wip, please enlighten me
if you just put down your phone, i’m sure you could get it done.
one night she watched as you dipped your wet brush into the purple mug instead of the designated paint water cup. they didn’t even look similar, but ellie laughed to herself while you groaned, tossing your head back before getting up to dump the liquid out of the mug. this would also be the first night ellie gawked at you while your hands dipped below your shorts, she quickly looked around. no one else seemed to notice that you were pleasing yourself with your own gentle hands and her eyes found you again, sprawled out on your couch.
your back arched, obviously hitting your sweet spot and ellie swallowed hard. blinds. were getting you blinds.
some days, ellie was too busy with the store to watch over you and she hated herself for it. too tired to walk the six blocks and instead just looking over your social media again, looking through your friends posts to see if you’ve been up to anything. you had never come back for the album, which ellie had finished nearly two weeks ago now. but tonight, as she locked up the store she knew she was going straight to the sidewalk adjacent from your apartment.
when she arrived at her usual spot she saw you through the windows and you looked too well put together for a night to yourself. you were dolled up and ellie liked to imagine it was for her, you’d leave your apartment and head to the store for the album you said you’d come back for weeks ago. but her hope was squashed when a cab pulled up outside your apartment and a woman who looked way too old started to walk up the steps to the building and entered the main door. ellie had been here enough to know the general look of your building's inhabitants, and this woman wasn’t one of them. maybe someone's mom, maybe she's visiting a friend. she can’t be here for you. no way.
but through the windows, with no blinds, she saw you open your door for this woman and welcome her into your home. your mom. it has to be. ellie’s eyebrows narrowed when you pulled this woman into a hug, then pulled back and let your lips kiss hers. okay, so not your mom. who the fuck is this?
ellie, whose eyes were going from her phone to the big windows of your apartment, began to search through your online presence and found no traces of her. this mysterious woman who, now, you seemed to be having a highschool make out session with on your couch, was all over you, touching you, kissing you, and worst of all, pleasing you. that sweet smile that had previously been for ellie, was now for this woman and it made ellie’s stomach turn. but she didn’t leave, instead watched while the two of you began to peel each other's clothes off.
were getting you blinds and were getting rid of this woman.
the next day while she opened up her store, she couldn’t help but think about you and this woman. she was frustrated, of course. but she couldn’t blame you, obviously this woman was prying on your weaknesses for her own pleasure. taking advantage of you. it sickened her, and she had to know more. she had been through every following list she could think of and still, this woman was a mystery. and as she refreshed your twitter (a new hobby of hers), a new post popped up.
@yndoesartstuff: lunch date with @shaunamavisxx never felt so right – at hoppers tavern
seeing that, ellie locked up shop way too early. it was fairly easy to make her way into your apartment, all she had to do was play the part. “sorry, my girlfriend hasn’t given me a key to this door yet,” she said with a friendly smile to your neighbor, who out of the kindness of his heart let her into the building. she waited until he was in his own apartment before picking your lock.
it smelled like you once she stepped inside, and she let the aroma fill her nose as she walked around. it was messy, canvases piled up everywhere along with dirty paint brushes. clothes lined your floor from the bedroom all the way to the kitchen and she had to force herself not to clean it up for you. she examined your paintings up close, admiring how the strokes on the canvas looked. she noticed you draw a small bird in every corner, the bird is plump, uncolored and holding a small twig. it was your signature, and it matched you so well. but, what she really was after was your laptop, she found it sitting on your unmade bed.
no password? she was shocked, and made a mental note to tell you that you needed to secure your devices. it’s almost as if you wanted her to search through it to get to know you better, and ellie did just that. it was linked to your phone and as she went through your messages they all seemed to be relatively normal. for someone like you, at least.
loads of messages from a group chat labeled city gals, and she knew it wasn’t you who had named it being as you were funnier than that, and less basic. scrolling up, all the conversation in the chat was merely nothing of note, no mention of this woman to your friends which ellie found odd. maybe just a hookup? but even then, wouldn’t you tell your friends?
ellie could gauge your friends' personalities through the texts they would send, shauna was most definitely the unnamed leader of this group, probably also the one who named the chat. her texts were mostly about planning activities, meanwhile the others just tacked on with fake enthusiastic responses. even yourself.
leaving the group chat, she continued to scroll down your messages and found an unsaved phone number which seemed to be the winner. you don’t have her number saved, this is good. a lot of your texts to her went unanswered, left on seen and only responded once you’d ask for her to come over. that usually generated a reply within minutes from this woman, who ellie still didn’t know the name of. it angered her even further, realizing she was just toying you along. only using you for your body when you were so much more than that.
ellie jotted down the unsaved number into her notes app, saving it for later when she could find out just exactly who this woman was. it was clear from the texts that she wanted nothing to do with you, and you still kept texting her like a sad puppy. it was pathetic, really, but ellie didn’t judge. she knew that your attention seeking habits were brought on by your dysfunctional family, she just wished it was her on the receiving end.
she found herself in your emails and saw you had an abundant amount of unread ones. it was a lot of spam and a waste of time, so she moved on. she decided it was best to go into your search history, restaurants, art galleries that allowed online submissions, sometimes even silly questions that ellie would most definitely answer for you if you asked.
“how do magicians do their cutting in half tricks?” you would ask her from the couch while ellie made you both dinner.
she’d call out from the stove, “there’s a fake table, the girl puts her legs through that. the legs you see on the other end are fake, baby.” and you would giggle sweetly as you always did, thanking her for being a know-it-all.
but as she continued to scroll further and further down your search history, she saw that the day you two had met, you googled “vinyl stores near me” and ellie’s was the first to pop up. she thanked every star in the universe for such a coincidence, but the more she thought about it, it couldn’t have been a coincidence because to her, it was always meant to be.
suddenly your laptop dinged and a new message appeared at the top from city gals. it was shauna and she was proposing a night out and it didn’t take long at all for the rest of the chat to respond.
shauna: drinks at our favorite spot tonight?
dina: totally what time
shauna: like 8 ish?
cat: sounds good to me
shauna: im with our heavy drinker, she says yes too!! see u guys then
dina: hangin w out us :( rude
cat: yeah wtf
shauna: oh hush its no biggie, we’ll see you guys tonight
ellie sat back as the texts rolled in, heavy drinker? ellie didn’t like the sound of it, and your friends seemed to think it was funny. bet they don’t even watch over you when you’re plastered, leaving you alone where anyone could hurt you. a few clicks on your instagram and she found a group mirror picture in a dirty bar bathroom, and the location clear as day at the top of the post. she confirmed it with a few other pictures and a deep dive of your twitter. gotta stop putting your location everywhere.
ellie knew your lunch date with shauna would be ending soon and you’d return home to start getting ready for the evening. she shut your laptop down, placing it exactly where it was on the bed before and started towards the door to leave. as she was on her way out, a bright red thong caught her eye. it was so carelessly thrown between the couch and the table next to it and she stuffed them into her pocket before locking the door behind her on the way out. she knew you’d never notice, your apartment already looked like a tornado had been through it seven times over.
she played with the string of fabric in her pocket as she walked down the sidewalk back to her place, contemplating the night to come. if your friends won't watch over you, i will.
read part two here :)
#ellie williams#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams the last of us#ellie williams au#modern!ellie williams#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x reader
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p.u.n.k girl!!
summary: the times you have while dating ellie
wc: 1.1k
a/n: based off the amazing song "p.u.n.k girl" by heavenly! i recommend it a lot!!
p is for the painful way she makes me feel some days.
fighting with ellie wasn't all that common. the two of you were exceptionally good at communicating, opting to talk through problems before going into a full-fledged fight. but there were just some days when ellie woke up with a short fuse. she tried to distance herself during those days, feeling awful for even doing that, but today you wouldn't let her have time to herself to decompress.
she had snapped at you after you continued to be clingy. ellie has asked you to give her just a tiny bit of space. you clambered off of her arm and she felt her body relax. this was all she wanted. when she felt the air suddenly shift, though, that's when she knew she completely fucked up. her eyes trailed over to yours, ready to apologize for her outburst, when she noticed the tears springing to your eyes.
ellie hated when you cried. it made her feel like a complete and total bitch. when your bottom lip started wobbling she knew she had to get over her mood to comfort you no matter what.
you would push her but it wasn't enough to actually move her, "i thought you wanted to be alone!"
ellie's hand would smooth over your hair whispering apologies. you would try to fight it for a couple more minutes but finally, you would relax into her touch. tears would drip from your eyes onto her sweatshirt.
god, she hated when you cried. it made her heart clench in her chest.
"i'm sorry baby," she kissed the crown of your head, "shouldn't have snapped like that."
u is for utopia, the other times with her.
ellie held the spoon to your lips, which you opened with no hesitation. the smooth caramel flavor of the ice cream hit your tongue causing you to exclaim in approval. your eyes were wide as you looked at her.
"fuckin' awesome, right?" she looks proud of her ice cream selection. her spoon dips into the bowl again to get a scoop for herself.
the ice cream parlor was dead except for the two of you. it was the dead of winter with snow twirling around outside. the both of you were bundled up. it made no sense to be here at this time.
the worker looked at you like you guys needed to be locked up in an asylum, but you didn't care.
ice cream was always welcome.
you take a bit of your brownie-flavored ice cream, "next time we come here i'm getting your flavor. that shit is awesome."
she smiles, "wanna come again tomorrow?"
you could almost hear the worker's eyes rolling.
n is for the new-wave dreams she had back in her teens.
ellie has all of her old school projects spread out on her bed, a cheesy smile gracing her lips as she looks at them. they were mostly to do with space. you wondered if that's all she kept. there was one book report but it was crinkled off to the side, it looked as if she had shoved it in the bottom of her closet. the rest were her pristine condition poster boards explaining the galaxies and solar systems.
"whaddya think?" she is nearly bouncing with excitment as her hand touches a random part of the poster board.
you fall over, nuzzling her neck to stifle a chuckle, "god, why are you so cute?"
she grabs your shoulders, pulling you back and shaking you, "cute?! cute..!!!" her voice growls as she strains it, "i'm so not cute..."
you laugh at the pout that replaces the smile, "you are actually pouting right now. you are so cute."
ellie crosses her arms, "you are cuter. like by 100 times- no, like, 300 times!"
you roll your eyes, focusing back on the poster boards, "why did you do so many on space? i knew you liked it but they are the only ones you kept." you notice her pushing the book report off of the bed.
nerd.
ellie leans against the wall, her arms falling in her lap, "i wanted to work at NASA. well, i knew i wasn't smart enough for NASA or close enough to them but i wanted to do something similar. so, i focused on science fairs and stuff like that. i hoped i would get noticed by an organization."
your chest swells. you would do anything to go back in time so you could see teenage ellie putting her entire effort into the science fairs. you could imagine her winning, a goofy smile going over her freckled face. you wondered if she jumped up and down before she retrieved an award or if she tried to be calm. you bet she poured her entire attention over these projects, neglecting everything else. that was the ellie style.
joel had to have been so excited when she would come home with new awards. he was always so proud of her.
"my little space girl." ellie beams at that nickname.
k is for the kid in her.
ellie weaves in and out of the crowd that's separating her from her favorite thing. she has a red backpack bouncing on her back and she can faintly hear you yelling, 'god, els! wait up!' but there was only one objective on her mind.
beat the little snotty kids in front of her so she could be in the first row to see the dinosaur animatronics. it was a new attraction that had come to your city and when you surprised her with tickets she almost passed out. ellie didn't let go of you for hours after. she would say 'thank you, baby' every couple minutes as she planted little kisses on your neck.
she had been anticipating this for weeks, and no crotch goblin was gonna take her spot. there were only a couple more kids she had to pass to be the first person. she slowed her full bolt to a speed walk now as she noticed the mothers giving her a nasty look.
she felt your hand on her bare shoulder, "jesus! you are fucking fast."
ellie still has her eyes on the front of the line but she does slow down a little bit more so your legs could keep up, "i gotta get up front."
your chuckle makes her smile. she loves that sound, "els, you are like a foot taller than most of these kids. you will be able to see."
you were right. she knew you were right.
but her legs kept their pace.
she had to see the dinosaurs up close.
#ellie williams imagine#ellie williams scenario#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams#ellie x reader#ellie the last of us
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you know you never stood a chance - chapter six
you know you never stood a chance series
six: hold me like a grudge
series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter
qz!Joel Miller x f!reader
Words: 2.6k
Summary: After a tense situation, you reunite with Ellie and Joel.
Warnings: dub-con due to power imbalance, free use, sex as payment, vaginal sex, cum eating, Joel is mean/bad with feelings, this is not canon compliant, no use of y/n, degradation, canon-typical violence and danger, description of injury, spanking, pussy spanking, rough oral (m receiving)
also on ao3
dividers by @saradika-graphics
When the grass outside rustles underfoot, you flinch. You’ve been there for a while, long enough that the adrenaline started to seep out and leave you shaking in its wake.
The only reason you don’t shoot when you see a shadow is that Ellie takes the risk of speaking first.
“Hey, is that you?”
It’s so quiet, so careful. A sick part of you wants to stay silent, to hope they leave. But you’re forced to reckon with Joel’s evaluation of you: you’d never survive out here on your own. Probably wouldn’t even make it back to Boston, and then what? Get shot by FEDRA trying to get back in?
“Ellie?” you whisper back.
“Hey, Joel!” Ellie starts to yell, stopping when you shush her loudly from the garage.
You move, stepping closer to the frame where you can see her before moving into the light. She throws her arms around you, and you freeze, holding the gun pointed to the grass, too afraid to move.
“I know he’s an asshole, but don’t do that again,” she scolds, brow furrowed.
You’re thrown off guard but feel a rush of affection for the girl. “Sorry,” you say.
Joel comes out of the house from the back door and glowers at the two of you. “Inside,” he barks.
You follow behind Ellie as she rolls her eyes and prattles on about a large stick and what he should do with it.
He shuts the door behind you, clearly having scoped out the whole house before Ellie found you. He turns to her. “Upstairs.”
“What?”
“Upstairs, now,” he snarls.
She goes to protest but catches your eye.
“Please,” you say. You don’t want her to witness whatever he’s about to say to you.
When she’s gone, he rounds on you. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
You stare at the floor, lips twisted as you fight the urge to lash out.
He lifts your chin with his hand. “Huh? You listening to me?” He huffs out a laugh. “Clearly not, or we wouldn’t be here right now. We got one fuckin’ rule, do you remember?”
When you still don’t answer, he shakes your chin a little, jostling your jaw and drawing your glare to him.
“Well?” he says.
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
“Do as I’m fuckin’ told,” you mimic his drawl, poorly.
This wasn’t your first time out. After that night, when he fought with Tess, he dragged you with them on a supply run. It was fairly standard shit. Before you left the QZ, he had armed you—for appearances only, he reiterated, don’t touch those unless you’re gonna be ready to use them—and then told you the rule.
And you listened. Same shit, different place. He said drop, you’d drop. He said run, you’d run. Mostly, you just kept a nice resting bitch face in place so their contacts wouldn’t know you were an easy target.
“What am I gonna do with you, huh?” he says, still holding your face in place. He tugs the revolver from your other hand, not that you resist, and shoves it in his waistband.
“Just leave me here.”
“Shut up.”
“You asked me a question.”
“Yeah, and I expected a real answer, not a stupid one.”
You move to kneel, but he grabs you.
“Not a bad idea, sweetheart, but you gotta watch that ankle.”
The thought gives him pause, and you watch apprehensively as he considers things.
“We’re staying here today. You’re gonna rest that fuckin’ ankle, and we’ll get back on the road in the morning.”
Ellie is thrilled to discover you’ll be taking the day off in a place with real beds. She finds some old sudoku books and pencils and hangs out in “her” room.
True to his word, Joel makes you stay in bed all day. Your foot is propped up on a stack of pillows. You sulk, but he brings you a couple of books to choose from, a bottle of water, and some cold soup, just like getting sick back in the old days.
Actually, it’s a little too much like the old days. It makes you want to run. Instead, you let the historical nonfiction novels lull you in and out of a hazy sleep.
He comes to get you after nightfall. Ellie’s sound asleep, and he brings you into the room he had staked claim to.
“You ready to say sorry?”
“I’m sorry, Joel,” you mumble.
“What were you thinking?” He asks again. He’s softened since this morning, to your great relief.
“I’m tired of being your burden.”
“Is this ‘cause I don’t get to fuck you?”
“No. I mean, sort of. It’s bad enough that I can’t pay you out here. But then to be a risk, to create more trouble than just being a mouth to feed…”
He’s quiet for a minute. “Lay down on your back. Head over here,” he gestures to the end of the mattress.
The abrupt change is exhausting, but you do as you’re told. Once you’re lying there, head draped off the edge of the bed, he reaches down and takes his cock out. He has to bend his knees a little, being just tall enough over average to not quite fit together, but he slides into your mouth.
It’s so easy this way for him to press right into your throat.
You try to pour out your excess emotions, the residual fear, the relief, everything by finding purpose through his dick, but he pulls out when you try to get a hold of him.
“Not this time, sweetheart. You want me to take what ya owe me? Fine. I’m gonna use your throat as a fuckin cocksleeve.”
The words shouldn’t please you, but they do. The catharsis of the relief, the elation at being useful, and his touch all send you trembling.
“You better not cum,” he warns. “Not until I’m fillin’ ya up.”
You want to argue that he’s already filling you up, but a) he’s absolutely not in the mood, and b) well, he’s filling you up, so you can’t really speak.
Instead, you do the only thing you really can do. You lay there and take it. He lets you curl your hands around his thighs, holding on so you don’t go scooting up the mattress during the more aggressive thrusts. It lets you stabilize your head and tilt to an angle that grants just a little more air.
It’s rough in a way he hasn’t been before, which is saying something, but it’s also transcendental. Maybe you’re being dramatic, but you’re in the fucking clouds. You’ve never felt so light, so peaceful.
He pulls out abruptly, fingers squeezing the base of his cock as he pants. It’s still so close to you, so you use his legs to push upward and try to get it back in your mouth.
He swats at your cunt. “Quit it.”
You moan, the pain turning quickly into a tingle that spreads across your lips and clit. It worked, though, and you back off, now dangling half off the bed, only supported by your palms against the thick trunks of his thighs.
He scoops you up, an arm under each of yours, and pushes you back up on the mattress. “Hands ‘n knees,” he says.
You’re still feeling a little weird, so when you’ve gotten into position, you drag a pillow over and nuzzle your face down into it, arms threaded under it to hold it against you.
“You’re all cockdumb now, huh?” His hand traces over your lower back. You moan, a quiet, rumbly thing, and press back toward him.
He smacks your ass. “Hold still, pretty girl. Let me open you up.”
You don’t do more than drool and moan as he works his fingers into you, stretching you to ease his passage. His other hand stays on your lower back like a brand, an anchor. When he pulls his fingers out, he licks them clean before guiding his cock to where you’re dripping and aching for him.
He pushes in slowly, and you arch your back under his broad palm. He pushes you back down against the bed, hand settling between your shoulder blades and another wrapped in your hair.
“Stupid girl,” he grumbles. “Foolish little brat.”
Tears well up. It’s so much. Everywhere he touches you is past ignition, already licked clean by his flame, ash smoldering in the wake.
“Quiet,” he hisses, and you realize the soft little sounds permeating your dream were your moans and gasps. You bite your lip hard, face screwing up at the pain, but it works.
He doesn’t like that, though. He lets go of your hair and sighs, pulling out just to roll you onto your back before plunging back in and picking up the pace to take you apart. He pushes his thumb into your mouth, groaning as your teeth sink into the dry and calloused flesh, tethering you to the earth.
The sound of his hips slapping against you should be a bigger concern, but that would mean stopping or slowing down, and he doesn’t see that as an option. Instead, he watches as your blank eyes blink up at him, wet and wide, and your lips wrapped around his thumb.
“Christ. You really just need your holes filled, and suddenly, ya know how to be good. Fuckin’ slut.”
“Your fault,” you choke out, the words slammed out of you by his aggressive pounding. “Wasn’t—b-before.”
You wish you hadn’t said anything when he laughs again, dark and pleased with himself.
“Yeah, you’re right. Only a fuckin’ whore for me now, huh?”
Finally, finally, he touches you when he’s getting close, tugging the thumb from your mouth to rub the wet pad of it against your clit.
“You ready, sweetheart? Gonna cum on my cock, make me feel good?”
You whimper, nodding. “Yes, Joel, please.”
He works you to it until you break down, clenching around him so tight. He has to make himself pull out, his sex-addled brain screaming for him to bury himself deep in you. Instead, he covers your stomach.
You’re shaking through the aftershocks of your orgasm, and he rubs at your clit until you give him another one. It’s easy, you fall right apart, and then you’re practically limp, breasts heaving with the effort to breathe steadily.
He swipes a finger through his mess and brings it up to your mouth. You suck it clean, and he does it again until he’s fed you most of it. You take it each time, sucking and licking his finger, and watching him with wide eyes.
“You’re so fuckin’ sweet like this. Why can’t you just listen this good all the time?” It’s said softly, fondly, but it cuts you deep. He stands up, stretches, and leaves the room without another word.
You start to cry, burying your face in the pillow and holding your breath so he doesn’t hear. You’ve gotten good at this, over the decades, of choking down your weakness and swallowing it whole, letting it rip you up inside rather than out, so by the time he’s come back in the room, you’ve quieted.
You rub away any lingering tears with sleepy fists and a yawn.
“You think you can sleep with your ankle propped up?” he says when he crosses the room.
You nod, one fist still over your left eye, which won’t stop stinging, and sling your legs over the side of the bed, sitting up.
He catches your shoulder. “You’re stayin’ right here. Lay down, and I’ll set it up.”
Slowly, you settle back onto the bed. He must really not want you to walk on it if he’s going to trade rooms. Maybe the injury was worse than you thought.
The rest of his cum has dried, leaving a tacky residue on your stomach. He doesn’t wipe it clean, though; he never does anymore. Not worth wasting the water over, you think.
That’s what he tells himself, too.
The gentle hands you remember from so long ago have returned, delicately arranging pillows under your leg. You twist your top half to thank him, only to find him pulling back the blanket to slide into bed beside you.
It’s fully dark, now, when he presses a kiss into your hair and settles on his back beside you. Even through both of your shirts, you can feel the warmth of him where your back presses to him. He doesn’t hold you, but the closeness is enough to let you drift off to sleep.
The sun breaks through the bedroom windows before the birdsong wakes you. Joel is already awake when you roll over. This time, he does sneak his arm beneath you, pulling you to his chest.
You can’t breathe, too afraid the movement will fully wake him up. He’s never, not once, given you this much of him. You idly wish he hadn’t, because how were you supposed to live without it now?
“This is a nice quilt,” he says, shattering the silence before you work yourself into a panic. “Shame we gotta leave it here.”
“You get the stuff, and I’ll make you one when we get back.” Your voice is muffled in his shirt, too tense to pull away and properly look at him.
“Didn’t know you could sew.”
“I’m a woman of many talents, Miller. Sucking cock, basic sewing, annoying the hell outta you…” Aw, fuck. End of list. Oh well.
He chuckles, and you hate the way you can never tell if he’s laughing at your joke or laughing at you.
You fall back into quiet again, and when you think he might have dozed back off, you relax a little, letting your head find a home in the hollow where his arm meets his chest. “I’m sorry,” you whisper to his t-shirt.
“I know, sweetheart. Look, when we get home, if you want to leave, I won’t stop ya. But not out here. Not like this.”
“M’not leaving. I got a quilt to make, remember?”
He leans down and kisses the top of your head, resting that way for a moment with you drawn close.
Of course, the peace doesn’t last. Ellie bursts through the door, boundless energy as always, sending your already-racing heart into overdrive.
“—room is empty; what did you say to her? Couldn’t you just have been nice?”
Joel waits, staring at her blankly. You, however, have buried your face in his side. You’re both fully dressed, and there’s no evidence of anything, but you know she’s not stupid.
“Oh, ew, god, come on! What the fuck is wrong with you?” She’s backing out, pulling the door behind her, but her disgust carries down the hall.
Joel tilts your chin up with a curled finger. “At least we know she didn’t hear any of the other times I fucked ya.”
Your cheeks are on fire, and you can’t look him in the eye.
“It’s not like she walked in on us,” he teases.
“She’s never going to talk to us again,” you groan.
“She’ll get over it. If not, you can give her the talk.”
“Oh no. No, you can handle that.”
“Let’s let the Fireflies handle that,” he decides, scrubbing at his beard with one hand. He gets up, groaning. “Should make it to Bill’s today, even if we go slow.”
“Joel—”
“I know you’re not about to argue with me, right?”
Your mouth twists into a scowl, but you soften when you look up at him. The sun through the window is bathing him in yellow, and his brown eyes trip up your heart like they always do.
“No,” you say with a sigh. “I’ll follow you.”
He stops you before you leave the room, two fingers under your chin. “When we get to Bill’s, I’ll help you add another thing to that skillset of yours.”
“What?”
He hands you back the revolver you had stolen from the garage skeleton. “I’ll teach ya how to shoot.”
next chapter
*title from "Hold Me Like a Grudge" by Fall Out Boy
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x oc#joel miller x female oc#joel miller x f!reader#the last of us fic#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#you know you never stood a chance series
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