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flareondotcom · 2 years

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Hey there gamers :^) ive been working on a dragon age: inquisition fic for a while now, so i thought id post a chapter here! It started as just a fun little passion project to get some ideas out of my head, but it just keeps expanding lol. a brief disclaimer, i have never written fan fiction before this, and im not really A Writer so i am in no way experienced outside of 1 highschool creative writing class, this has just been really fun to put together in my spare time hehe

some general context for this chapter and the world state in general, most of which is expanded on elsewhere in the fic:

- it follows a dalish elf inquisitor (bwaaah, i know, but hear me out) named Emytha Ghilain

- there’s a smattering of oc’s alongside the canon characters

- in this timeline, my Adaar was recruited to be the commander instead of Cullen

- is set during a mission with a party of Varric, Solas, and Risk

- the character named Risk had a placeholder name for so long it became their actual name, and is a childhood friend of sorts of the mc

- it was written with no set romance or ships or anything in mind, so there’s no focus on that (yet.........?!?) but like, go nuts reading this however you want

- takes place post-hinterlands, but before the breach is closed

- this is one of the chapters that takes itself a little more seriously than others

the complete chapter under the cut!!! i hope you enjoy!

Purpose

The sun finally began its long sink below the horizon, painting its nightly sunset in soft pinks and oranges. Emyth finished securing the last tie down of her tent and let out a weary sigh as she stood. She could feel the toll of the day’s journey in every muscle of her body. She braced her lower back with her hands in a slow stretch as she silently hoped that Risk had something good and easy for dinner. She was far too tired to hunt or forage after making it half way back to Haven in one day.

She and her Inquisition scouting party had been closing the more remote rifts across the northern edges of the Kokari Wilds. The previous evening they had received a message from their spymaster, hand delivered by one of her agents in a tightly rolled slip of paper tied with twine. There were no specifics enclosed, only a single sentence, “The Herald is needed back at Haven as soon as possible.”, in a flowing script.

They began the journey back then and there. Emyth didn’t usually travel at such an expeditious pace, but Leliana’s vague urgency made her and her companions nervous. They collectively decided to make fewer stops and divy up resupply duties to save time. Risk was in charge of food, Varric was in charge of drink, while Solas and Emyth were to search for an apothecary, to restock healing potions and salves with herbs gathered along the way. It was an efficient system, allowing them to make good time on their detours.

“Hey Weedy, mind sparking up our campfire? The wind’s starting to bite…” Varric trailed off and shivered as he closed up the front of his coat. He stood restlessly in front of the ring of stones they had set in the dirt near the center of camp.

“‘Course. We should get dinner going soon.” Emyth finished up her stretch and plodded over with heavy feet. As she knelt down above the wood piled in the center, she lifted her right palm, where small sparks danced in the air. Varric knelt down to warm his hands as the sparks grew into a steady crackling fire.

“Where’s Risk?” Emyth asked.

“They assured me they would return before dark. Although they did not specify their whereabouts,” Solas said. He sat cross legged on a fur laid in front of his tent.

Emyth’s gaze flicked quickly from Solas over to Risk’s tent, where their pack was not. Before her brow was even done furrowing, Varric cut in with a hearty chuckle.

“If only we could walk as fast as that elf can pitch a tent. We’d be back at Haven yesterday!” Varric said.

“Why run off right before sun down? It isn’t-” Emyth started, tone raised in tired frustration, when a sudden sharp sound stopped her dead in her tracks. It was the snapping of a branch, on the ground somewhere outside of camp. Somewhere close.

Soon the sound of steady footfalls in the underbrush followed. A familiar shape came ambling out of the treeline and into the light of the campfire just before Emyth reached for her staff. It was Risk, with a fresh hare dangling from their fist and a bow slung over their shoulder. They had a smug expression as they approached the campfire.

“Were you going to say ‘safe’? Don’t tell me, you were worried-” Risk grinned while they dropped the bow from their shoulder to the ground.

“Of course I was worried,” Emyth stood. “you have all our food, remember? Are you trying to starve us all?” Her arms were crossed and her voice was stern, but Risk caught the smile stifled on the edges of her lips. Risk looked to the ground to straighten their face. It was as much a battle of will as it was a battle of wit.

“Well, quite the opposite. All that last village had for sale was turnips, and I figured we’d all want something a little more substantial.” They knelt down and laid out the hare carefully a few feet from the fire.

“Already field dressed. Mostly. Promise.” They turned their gaze back up to Emyth, with what she would swear were puppy dog eyes.

Solas was now standing over the hare, with one hand raised towards the fire for warmth.

“You gonna finish up and cook it or are we supposed to eat it with our eyes?” Varric pointed a gloved hand on the other side of the flames.

Before anyone could respond to him, a belly or two growled loud enough to be heard over the wind. They each exchanged looks with one another attempting to suss out whose it was, as they collectively realized how long it had been since their last meal. Bemused, Solas knelt down to offer assistance preparing the meat. He pulled a small dagger with a handle made from animal bone from his belt to cut away the skin.

Risk and Solas made quick work of the butcher job while Varric and Emyth cut turnips into a pot of bubbling broth and herbs. Soon the party was sitting snug against the fire enjoying turnip and hare stew, with roasted haunches on the side. Few words were exchanged as everyone scarfed their meals.

They all retired eagerly, shortly after sundown. They usually spent a portion of their evenings swapping stories over provision ale, reflecting their day, or strategizing; but the four had agreed over dinner the day had been long. They needed to be ready to head out before first light. The wind died down an hour into the night, leaving the Inquisition agents to dream in peace.

The morning was warm. Sunlight dappled the forest floor through the swaying canopy above. Soft breezes sang through their leaves with peaceful hushes falling between them. The wind caressed across Emyth’s cheek like a gentle mother’s palm, waking her slowly.

The first thing she saw when her eyes finally opened was the tall wild grass cradling her resting body, swaying as unhurried as the trees. She stretched lazily, and took her time to sit up fully, as if stalling the day. She was in the same forest she fell asleep in from what she could tell from her surroundings, but she was alone. No tents, no smothered campfire, no compatriots packing for the journey ahead in silence, in hopes their Herald would sleep for just a bit longer. There was only quiet, serene woodland as far as the eye could see.

She appeared to be at the edge of a sloped clearing, a gap in the trees where the wild grass grew above the knee. She yawned, and stretched one more time before standing. She paused for a while, scanning the treeline with sharp eyes, searching for a direction to walk.

“Finally. A good dream.” Emyth sighed quietly to herself as she took her first steps eastward, down the slope of the clearing and towards a small gap in the grass. It was likely a foot path of some kind, a trail worn into the dirt by animals. She had learned that when traversing the fade, taking the path of least resistance helped avoid unwanted attention.

She walked the narrow path for an unknowable amount of time. The path never split, and never changed direction. She strolled on, casually brushing passing plants with her fingertips and occasionally humming to herself under her breath. Emyth was no stranger to the fade, but she had dreamt more than ever after receiving the mark. She figured she would wake up, or be woken by Varric, Solas, or Risk soon. She was just grateful she didn’t have to witness anything horrible, or fight her way through demons, or whatever other grief haunted her sleep since the conclave.

She came to a stop when she realized her surroundings had changed some time during her mind wandering. She was still in the same woods, but all the natural greens of the trees and the grass had turned a shade of blue. The moss and fungus blanketing the forest floor and fallen logs appeared to glow, releasing spores of speckled light into the underbrush. She couldn’t recall when the change had occurred, but she was almost certain it didn’t come from her. Perhaps a spirit’s nearby? She couldn’t sense anything close, so on she ampled down the path. She had also learned that it was best to keep moving. The mark attracted all manner of spirits, like moths to flame.

“Has Emytha not woken?” Solas had just finished extinguishing the final smolders of last night’s campfire. “Seems it’s getting late in the dawn- even for her.” He pointed his gaze towards her tent, the only one still standing, with a slight whisper of concern on his brow.

“Fashionably late, as always.” Varric muttered as he pulled his pack closed. “We’re just about finished up here. Perhaps Gambler over there would care to check in on our dear Herald?” He stood as he slung it over his shoulders and secured it on his back. He gave them a pointed look as he adjusted the heavy bag. Hearing the nickname Varric recently christened them, Risk looked up from running a whet stone across the sword in their lap. The concern clicked in their head as they switched their gaze between Solas and Varric, the former still staring at Emyth’s tent, while the latter looked at them expectantly. Risk cleared their throat loudly, and stood. They returned the sword to its sheath and dropped it to the ground next to their shield.

“Oh Herald?” They took slow, striding steps towards the tent. They paused when they reached the entrance, still closed. “Savior of Thedas? Hate to break it to you, but there’s a world out here that needs saving.” They slowly peeled back the edge of the entrance flap. “Emyth,” They said, long and drawn out, as they bent down to cautiously poke their head in. Solas and Varric looked on in anticipatory silence as Risk’s head and shoulders disappeared through the entrance of the tent. There was a pause.

“It’s empty,” Risk said abruptly.

“What?” said Varric.

“Where is she? When did she leave?” Solas shot up to standing, clutching his staff at his side.

“So none of us know.” Risk stood up from inspecting the tent. A pause of quiet fell between the three of them as their minds all raced for what to do next. “Do you think something’s wrong?”

Solas scanned the surrounding woods with quick and focused eyes. “I am unsure. She has never been unaccounted for before. Not since-”

“The conclave.” Risk interjected. They turned away to face the woods, trying to see as far as they could as their hands balled into fists at their sides.

“Don’t worry friends, she’s a lot tougher than she looks, she can handle herself on her own for a while.” Varric stepped between the two with a low and soothing voice. “Look, I stayed up a few hours to do some reading after we all went to bed last night, just couldn’t sleep. Being camp neighbors, I would have heard her leave, and I didn’t. So, she couldn't have been gone for more than a couple of hours.” He had a good sense for tension, and he could see an oh shit situation bubbling over from miles away. “We’ll find her. Only question is, do we split up and fan out, or search as a party?”

“I suggest we stick together. We do not yet know the reason for her absence.” Solas secured his pack and kept his staff in hand. Risk stared into the forest still, as if they couldn’t hear either of them.

“Hey.” Varric placed a gentle hand on Risk’s arm. The touch broke them out of their thoughts. “She can’t have gone far. Let’s put those infamous tracking skills of yours to good use, eh?” Varric clapped them on the back as he stepped past them.

The three of them took to the surrounding woods in a spaced out, single file line. Risk quickly took the front-most position, searching for any signs in the underbrush of Emyth’s passing, while Varric and Solas scanned their surroundings near and far, weapons drawn, occasionally calling out her name.

The forest grew dark, despite how it was just morning. Fireflies now peppered the woodlands with their drifting blinking lights. Emyth had no idea how long she had been walking by this point, but surely it hadn’t been that long. It had only been a pleasant stroll. For the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel chased. She secretly wished her fellow agents were with her to enjoy the scenery, though she tried her best to keep her mind clear and free of distractions. She recalled Solas’ words, One must stay focused in a place that can be shaped with but a thought.

As she walked, she could hear the soft and distant sound of- Bells? A very faint, melodious ringing sound, hiding somewhere on the breeze. Walking further still, the sound grew louder, slowly but gradually, until she came to recognize it as the sound of metal wind chimes. It was a familiar sound, a nostalgic one. She could make out a large structure between the trees ahead of her. A house? No, a cabin. The path led right up to the cabin’s front porch, and as she approached she gathered more details. The covered, cozy sitting area on the front porch. Carefully tended gardens of vegetables and flowers all around the yard. Drawn curtains, no movement or lights inside. Strange architecture. The only split in the path she had seen so far, forking right, curved around the cabin to the back. She spotted the wind chimes as she followed the split, several were strung up on the windowsills of the second floor. Have I been here before? No, she thought. Surely not. Stay focused.

Around the corner, behind the house, was a small pond framed by tall reeds and blanketed in blooming lily pads. A small fountain trickled on its west bank. It looks like a painting. She stopped at the edge of the reeds. Between their shoots she could see her distorted reflection in the water. She looked up and scanned her surroundings, and froze when her eyes came upon a massive figure she hadn’t noticed before. Its rotund towering shape dwarfed the reeds it was nestled in across the pond.

She quickly realized it was a statue of some kind, and sighed out the sudden tension. It was a stone carving of a creature she had never seen before. It had some canid-like features, long and curling stone fur, impressive teeth and claws, with an unusual tail. Is it a bear? Or a dog? Fereldans do love their dogs. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Maybe it’s a lion. Emyth chuffed to herself in amusement.

A cracking sound interrupted the silence. Even though the noise was by no means loud, Emyth near jumped out of her skin in surprise. It sounded like the stone itself, like it was about to crumble from the inside.

Bits of rock flaked off of the creature’s eyes, falling away into the pond and slowly revealing a familiar shade of green light underneath. Emyth took several steps back in rapid succession, has a spirit possessed the statue? No, this is the fade. It could be anything- she trips over her feet and lands square on her ass in her haste.

Once the beast’s glowing eyes were free, it stood up, movement smooth as silk, as if its skin merely looked stonelike. On all four of its legs, it fixed its gaze on Emyth.

Fenedhis-

“Here,” Risk called to the other two agents. Solas and Varric hastened to their position, where they were leaning over a spot on the forest floor next to a large fallen log. They both peered over Risk��s shoulder to see a section of small, humanoid tracks in a patch of mud.

“Remember the fuss it took to get her to wear those damn boots around Haven? Midwinter? She threw ‘em out into the snow so many times, I’d recognize those prints blind.” Varric said.

“They’re hers, alright. It isn’t much to go on, but-.” Risk stood up, their thoughts outpacing their mouth. “Look, it doesn’t make any sense. These prints tell me she wasn’t in any kind of hurry, and none of the surrounding plants are damaged. No other sets of tracks either. There’s no evidence to suggest she was chased, or dragged off. It’s like she just- walked away.” Risk looked to Solas. The party had been searching for a little more than an hour. The sun had begun its climb into the sky, and this was the first trace of her they had found.

Solas paused pensively. “I’ve sensed something unusual in this forest since we’ve entered. I could not place what it was before, against the background magic of the many demons and rifts, but I feel it is close now. Whatever it may be, it feels old, older than-” He was cut off by Risk, who abruptly got in his face.

“Since we got here, Solas? When were you planning on sharing this with the rest of us? Or were you just going to keep it in your back pocket in case it became relevant? It’s real fucking relevant now, isn’t it-” Risk’s voice was raised.

“Gambler,” Varric interrupted and pushed himself between them.

“This is not the time to let our emotions get the better of us.” Solas looked as though he wanted to say more, but instead he sighed. “As I was attempting to share; I suspect this path may lead us to the source of this disturbance. With no templars, apostates, or rifts left in the area… it may be what’s holding up the Herald.” He pointed with his staff in the direction the tracks were headed, northwestward down a narrow trail worn in the dirt.

Risk’s glare softened after a moment of calculating, unbroken eye contact. They huffed as they turned away, hastening down the trail. Varric gave Solas a wordless, sympathetic look before he turned to follow Risk.

There were little to no markings on the trail, a partial heel print here and there, but the dry packed dirt was poor for leaving much of anything behind. Risk’s eyes were glued to the path, searching for any and all signs they were headed in the right direction.

“Maybe we should slow down? We could miss something at this pace!” Varric called out from quite a ways back.

“Not a chance.” Risk muttered, their speed unchanging.

Just then, they almost tripped over something lying across the trail. They stopped dead and knelt down to inspect the object. One of her boots. Only the right one. “Guys, I found-” Risk was going to call their find to attention, but was abruptly cut off by Solas’ voice, more filled with shock than they had ever heard it.

“Emytha!” Solas shouted.

The surprise caused Risk to look up from the trail for the first time in a few hundred paces. They stumbled backwards, kicking their feet in the dirt, attempting to grasp what they were looking at.

There she was, floating in the air about nine feet off the ground.

Unmoving.

Her arms were out perpendicular to her sides, with limp wrists, as if something was holding her up by the arms like a ragdoll. Her legs were dangling, with only the left boot on, but her face was turned upwards looking at… something.

They couldn’t tell what. It looked like a massive shape of light, a giant creature sitting on the trail they had been following, completely still as it held her up to its face with two giant three-fingered hands. It looked similar to the magic they saw around the rifts, shimmering and green.

“What- We have to-” Risk reached up with a trembling hand.

“You mustn't touch her!” Solas snatched away their reaching hand by the wrist and pulled them back towards Varric, who was holding his ground with Bianca at the ready.

“Breaking the link may cause an explosion- killing us all.” Solas held on tightly until Risk regained sense enough not to struggle against him.

They all stared down the shimmering beast. Its body twisted in the light, blinking in and out like a shadow made of green glow, as if it were both here and in the fade simultaneously.

It just sat, staring directly into Emyth’s eyes as it held her up to its own wide, unblinking gaze.

“So, we found Weedy. Any idea what the hell is going on?” Varric said.

“From what I can tell… It is a spirit. I am unsure of its intentions, but Emytha is alive, at least. Whatever it wants, it is powerful enough to manifest directly from the fade to communicate with her, no tear in the veil needed. Right now, she is likely experiencing something akin to a dream, in a pocket of the fade created by the spirit itself,” Solas said as he helped Risk to his feet.

“Great. Good thing Chuckles here can talk to spirits. You can talk to this thing, right? Preferably without pissing it off?” Varric shifted his weight from foot to foot. Even his nerves were beginning to shake.

“Essentially.” Solas sounded irritated, but moved on quickly under the pressure. “I may be able to pull her out safely, if I can tap into the connection the spirit has created between them.” He squared his shoulders, centering himself.

“Anything you can, just do it,” Risk said quietly as they drew their sword. “We'll do all we can, too. Just say the word.”

Solas nodded to them. “Make sure nothing disturbs this process. The breach has caused all manner of magic to run wild, I cannot know what will happen if the spell goes wrong.” He took a handful of steps towards the giant fade creature and slowly kneeled down to settle on his heels, resting his palms on his thighs. He sat there with his eyes closed for a handful of moments before they shot back open, glowing the same shade of eerie green light.

A heavy silence fell over them all.

Risk and Varric stood with their weapons drawn for quite some time, stanced for anything to happen. Any noise, any breeze had their glance, but the woods were mostly quiet and empty, besides them.

“I’ve been watching you. You, who has been touched.” The creature spoke, but its mouth did not move.

Its voice was both high and low, sonorous and layered; and sounded to be coming from inside her own skull. It stood stoically over Emyth’s crumpled form. Its stone-like face made its expression impossible to read as its eyes remained fixated, wide looking with no pupils, never blinking.

“Been getting that a lot lately,” Emyth muttered.

Her shoulders dropped ever so slightly. She couldn’t sense any immediate danger the way she did when dealing with demons, even the overly friendly ones. Even still, she felt the absence of her weapons and comrades dearly as she lay beneath its scrutinizing gaze.

“The ancient magic burned into your palm… it is of the veil. Awoken after millenia immemorial to rend that which held back the sky. Yet, interloped by the unknowing, to mend it instead.”

“Tell me,” the creature lowered its head by inches. “What pushes you towards your destiny?”

“You know about the mark?” Emyth shot up to her feet, all caution fleeing her mind.

“Time wanes. Answer first.” The creature’s words were quicker and sharper.

Emyth instinctively took a step back but maintained her stare into its glowing eyes. The beast did not move. She took a deep breath as she pondered her answer.

“I want to protect them.”

“Protect who?”

“Everyone- anybody,” she often struggled to find the right words, especially when it was of utmost importance.

“Ah, so you recall more of your old ways than I thought. Mythal enaste, myth na falon.” Its voice softened again, but the Elven was spoken in a different voice entirely. A woman’s, from the sound of it, but unfamiliar to Emyth. Her head cocked in surprise at the sound of elven in her ears. It continued, with its voice changed back.

“Il bes? For glory? Riches? For love?” The sound of stone rubbing against stone betrayed the smoothness of its voice as it rocked back and forth on its haunches like a cat. Its head drifted to the side in a tilt as it spoke.

“Will you be fate’s pet, like so many before you? Or will you finally raise a voice to your silent Creators? They do not answer the prayers of their people, as they once did. They cannot hear them. Too far, too deep.”

it abruptly snapped its gaze back to Emyth, causing her to startle once more.

“But you, you could shake the very heavens, interloper. If you would only lift your hand to reach. Tell me.”

“Bes a mala sulevin?”

Sulevin?

She felt a sharp pull on her mind, as if her brain was being tugged out of her skull. Her surroundings felt layered all of a sudden, like three overlapping dreams playing out all at once. She could see branches against the sky, flashes of blue and silver, and the two giant, thrumming eyes of the creature boring into her.

Has someone been calling me? She squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel damp earth pounding beneath her feet as she ran so fast her every muscle screamed. Someone I know? There was a chorus of distant voices both whispering and shouting her full name. The colors wouldn’t go away, no matter how tightly she kept her eyes shut. Blue and silver, blue and silver. She couldn’t tell if the voices were getting louder or further away, her senses felt overexposed, like they were bleeding into one another.

A small, abrupt explosion shocked the party. Green sparks flew in all directions. Emyth’s body was thrown backwards by the blast, crashing right into Solas. He managed to catch her, but the impact knocked the wind out of him and sent him skidding across the dirt on his back. Risk lunged forward ready to cleave their sword through a demon, but there was only empty, silent air. Varric rushed to Solas’ side as he groaned, still gripping Emyth’s arms, who lay unconscious on top of him.

“What happened?” Risk tossed aside their sword and shield and knelt beside Varric, unsure of what to do with their hands. Varric protected the back of Emyth’s head with his palm as he pulled her off of Solas and onto the ground.

Solas winced in pain as he propped himself up on his elbow. He placed his free palm on his ribs, and his expression eased slightly when it began to glow with a soft blue light.

“She is unharmed… likely fainted.” He sat up fully. “The spirit appears to be… gone. I doubt it will be further trouble.”

After hastily scanning his surroundings, he turned to Emyth. She appeared to be unconscious, but was softly mumbling something over and over, as if she were having a nightmare.

“We need to suppress her connection to the fade. She cannot control the dreaming abilities given to her by the mark, and because of this, she will be vulnerable to spirits everywhere she goes.” He hurriedly rummaged through his pack, pulling out a small tempered glass flask of blue leaves suspended in a darker blue liquid.

“In low intermittent doses, magebane should help, at least until our return to Haven.” He took out a pipette from the pouch on his belt after digging around for an unbroken one, and opened the bottle.

Varric lifted Emyth’s head slightly to help Solas drop the liquid into her mouth.

Risk looked on in tense silence, holding Emyth’s right hand tightly in theirs, hoping for any sign of her waking. Soon after ingesting the rhemedy, she fell still. The rise and fall of her chest slowed as she slipped into peaceful sleep.

“So… she’s gonna be… fine?” Varric anxiously asked after a few moments of pause.

“Yes. It’s unclear when exactly the Herald will wake, but I doubt her recovery will take more than a day.” Solas reached for his staff that was laying on the ground nearby. Once in hand, he used it to stand and lean on as he caught his breath.

“How are you holding up? You took an entire elf to the chest, and then, got up and healed her. I’m surprised you’re even standing.” Varric turned his attention to Solas.

He stifled a chuckle as a look of pain creeped across his face. “I am fine, I assure you. Perhaps a few bruised ribs. Nothing that cannot be healed on the way.”

“Then let me just state for the record that the weirdest shit always happens to us. I feel someone has to, otherwise fate will keep trying to one-up itself.” Varric lamented.

[Elvhen translations:

Fenedhis: A curse word, expletive

Mythal enaste, myth na falon: By Mythal’s blessing, protect your friends

Il bes?: For what?

Bes a mala sulevin?: What is your purpose?]

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #fic wip #inquisitor lavellan #varric tethras #solas dragon age #dragon age oc #lmao idk what to tag #questions comments concerns.............. lmk :D #i might post it all in order on ao3 if ppl are interested

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eternalsdiary · 3 months

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#HATE HOW I LOVE YOU

pairing: Ellie Williams x Reader

tags: hate sex, ellie, and more ellie <3

You HATED Ellie Williams, and hate is not a light word. You hated her hair, you hated her buff yet skinny arms, you hate how her eyes would roll when you walked into a room. You hated how even though you hated her, you loved the sight of her face.

"Dina, you know I hate doing shit with her. She makes everything so miserable." You crossed your arms over your chest, sucking on the lollipop in your mouth. "Look YN, just try, please? I'll talk to her, okay?"

You sigh, rubbing your temples. "Fine, I'll come but if she starts something I can't grantee I won't go off on her ass."

Soon you found yourself in a small circle with Dina, Jesses, and Ellie. "Let's have a drink." Dina suggests, standing to grab the nearby liquor on the table. "Where'd you even get this from?" You ask leaning back. "Does it matter, just drink it." Ellie speaks, glaring at you like she has been the whole time. You take a deep breath, turning toward Dina. "So, where'd you get it from."

"Just pass me the damn liquor Dina." Ellie interrupts Dina. "Ellie can you for once not be a god damn pain in the fucking ass?" You turn to her, giving her a disgusted look. "Me not be a pain in the ass and you're asking dumbass questions, let's just fucking drink." Suddenly you stand. "Okay I'm not doing this. I even tried to ignore her and still she found a way to be a bitch." Ellie stans as well. "You're callin' me a bitch? Have you seen your attitude lately love?"

You throw your hands up in defeat. "I'm leaving." Finally, Dina stands and grabs your arm. "YN no. You're gonna stay in here! You two need to do something about whatever the hell this weird ass beef is!" I roll my eyes, "I'm not going to stay here and try to make up with her, it's not like she listens." Ellie tries to rush you, but Jesse grabs her. "Okay can everyone just calm the fuck down?!"

Dina takes a deep breath. "You two are going to sit in here and you're going to fucking make up." You shake your head. "I'm not doing that shit." Ellie laughs. "Yeah right, I'm not sitting in a room with her alone." You glare at her, crossing your arms against your chest. “Dina, I swear to go-“ Dina places her hand over your mouth.

“You both are going to stay in this damn room, and you're going to make the hell up.” She fake smiles, grabbing Jesse. You chase after her, “Dina-“ She slams the door in your face and locks it. “Make. Up!” She yells.

Now you sit face to face with Ellie, the silence piercing through the room. “Look, I ain’t plannin’ to make up. So, let’s just pretend we’re cool and leave it at that.” She leans back in the most enticing way, her legs spreading the just right amount.

You struggle to keep your eyes from raining to in between her legs. “I can’t even pretend to like you.” You say rolling your eyes to look away. “You can’t pretend to like me, but you can pretend like you weren’t just staring in between my legs?” She smirks, sitting up and leaning down against her knees.

Your face heats up and you avoid eye contact. “I wasn’t ev-“ Ellie laughs, “Damn and then you lie about it? I thought you were bolder than that.” You glare at her. “You’re so cocky, you must think everyone likes looking in between your legs.” She laughs once more. “I know you do.”

She silences you.

Suddenly she stands, placing herself in front of you on the floor. “So do you wanna make up or not?” She was close, very close. Her eyes trailing down to your lips, her hands placed on your thighs. “What are you talking about?” You speak quietly from being so close.

“Let’s make up.”

After that phrase was uttered, you and Ellie’s lips collide at a fast speed. The kiss so sloppy and good it has you feeling feverish. Her rough hands sliding up your shirt, against the skin of your stomach. “You must’ve waited so long for this huh?” She says smirking against your lips.

“Just shut the fuck up.” Ellie laughs. “Shut me up.” Those words ignite a light in your belly, causing you to squeeze your legs together. “Look at you all tense, want me to help you?” She asks, placing her hands higher up your shirt. Her hands find themselves unbuckling your black bra, and you were happy you wore it.

“Must’ve known this was gonna happen huh? Wore such a pretty bra f’me?” Ellie attaches her lips to your neck, biting down softly and pulling a small sound from your lips as you jolt. “Want me to touch you? Tell me.” She waits for your response. “Yeah. I do Ellie, so just fucking do it.”

“Don’t be a bitch about it.”

Finally, you're on your back, her fingers penetrating you at a fast pace. “This feel good huh? Always talking shit, I guess this shuts you up?” She grins over you, watching your face contort from pleasure. “F-fuck! Shut the fuck u-up...!” Your back arching off the couch as she hits that one sweet spot inside you.

“Yeah? This the spot for you huh?” She places your nipple into her mouth, sucking softly. “Oh! Okayokay..!” You place your fingers into her hair, your eyes closed and filling with tears from how good you feel. “Holy-“ Ellie pulls away from the bud with a pop, saliva coating the nipple sloppily.

“Gonna cum around my fingers? Yeah?” She speeds up, your core tightening around her fingers. “I-I’m gonn-“ Ellie suddenly pulls her fingers away. You gasp, looking at her with a glare. “What the hell-“ She places her hand over your mouth. “Lay back down you big baby.”

You force yourself back down with a groan. Ellie’s mouth finds its way to your clot, sucking harshly. “Wh- AH!” Your hands going to her head as she sucks and licks at your swollen bud. Her eyes never leaving yours as she watches the tears that had built in your eyes finally fall.

“Gonna- whew! I’m gonna cum El’s!” Ellie sucks harder, just enough to make you go over the edge. The pull you have in her hair causing her to groan softly into your cunt. She licks your juices all up, not leaving a drop behind. She sits up, wiping the side of her lip and placing her finger into her mouth like she had leftover sauce from a meal.

“You taste so good YN, if I would’ve known that I’d have eaten you out sooner.” She comes close to your face, causing your face to scrunch. “I thought we made up?”

“Not even close.”

My Requests are open!

@sorrowsblogworld @sorrowsideas @tinygojo

#idk what to tag this as #idk lmao #ellie willaims smut #ellie williams tlou #tlou ellie #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut

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