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minustwofingers · 2 months ago

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a different blizzard

summary: you're on patrol with Ellie when a snowstorm unexpectedly hits. you smoke weed to pass the time. words: 6,033 a/n: whoa. so if you're already my follower: hi, IM BACK, but i'm so sorry because i am pivoting. like fully fully. so, if this is NOT your speed i will 1000% respect you unfollowing me or whatever. but if it is, then god bless you and you're really a soulmate follower. if you are new- hi and welcome! if you would like to be tagged in future ellie fics please just send me a message or reply to this post! cw: this fic is explicit

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Earlier in the afternoon when you’d looked at the thermometer and read 10 degrees, you knew you’d be frozen to the bone by the end of patrol. You felt the burn from where the icy wind had cut across your cheeks, flushing now that you were in the basement of the lookout building. Your bare fingertips could feel the fire on your skin even in their frigid state.

Ellie slides Shimmer’s bridle off and hangs it on a piece of metal that juts out from a crumbling wall. “I’m sure I look even worse.”

“Windburn?” You ask, examining Ellie’s cheeks as she walks your way, headed for the bales of hay that were stored in the room behind you.

“Yeah,” she replies over the grind of rusty metal hinges. Your own horse, Minnie, pushes her shoulder against you as she tries to follow Ellie into the room while making hungry horse sounds.

“Oh, rude!” You shove back against Minnie, who grunts as she relents and takes a few steps back. You pull off her bridle as well, while Ellie throws hay out of the room into separate piles for the horses. Gentle chewing noises fill the room to join the muffled howling of the wind outside in an ambient symphony.

The blizzard that had come on wasn’t unexpected, but you and Ellie had gotten so caught up on your supply run that you’d failed to return to Jackson within the critical window before the snow started falling in earnest. The closest lookout was within short radio distance, so at least people knew where you were. But as you make your way up into the higher levels of the lookout you knew you had made the right choice to stop: the entire world outside the windows is blinding, solid white. “Jesus.”

Ellie shoves her hands in her pockets and makes a face at the snowstorm, gazing out the big window in the main room. You discard your backpack and saddlebag next to the table and flop onto the ancient couch. “I was originally thinking just dinner, but now I’m thinking breakfast, too.” Ellie turns back towards you, a sideways smile on her face and brow up. “You wouldn’t happen to, uhh…”

“...Have anything?” You finish, reaching into the saddlebag closest to you, drawing out a pouch familiar to both you and Ellie. Her smile grew.

“I’ll make the beans.”

Ellie looks on excitedly as your practiced hands roll the joint, a skill you’d honed by rolling up tobacco for friends and delicately pulling apart a scavenged bible whenever you were lucky enough to get your hands on some real bud. Between you lie the remnants of your dinner; deer jerky, homemade crackers with soft cheese and, of course, canned beans that Ellie had seasoned. She scraped the bottom of her can and licked the spoon while she watched you work. Smoking was how you’d first found yourself looking at Ellie a little differently, and she brought that time up now. “I’m thinking of the first time I really had fun on Halloween,” she says, chin in hands and eyes bright watching the joint take shape.

You’d snuck away from the party that was taking place at the Slate’s house, the one later at night that was for older kids and adults who didn’t have small children to entertain. You’d only had a pinch left in your supply, and so, naturally, were being insanely stingy and had gone off alone to roll your joint in the shed tucked in the back corner of the property. Ellie, Dina and Kat had burst in on you mid-lick of the paper, which had resulted in a comical 30 seconds of you sitting there with your mouth open.

The immediate embarrassment was short lived, however, and you ended up packing the weed they’d brought for their own meager bowl with yours into the joint. It ended up being decent, and from the amazing high and best halloween party experience in your whole life you learned the power of ‘matching’. While seemingly obvious, in the small social ecosystem of Jackson, knowing who was who with weed was difficult. Being secretive was essential. You only smoked with your best friend. Well, until a few months ago when you two had a huge falling out. Since then, Ellie became your smoking buddy.

You look up and smile at her, unscrewing the very bottom compartment of your grinder. It let out a squeak as the underused threads resisted. Ellie’s eyes lit up even brighter. “Ooh, when did I become so special?”

You gently tap the kief from the very bottom of the grinder evenly along the joint, scooting it into place with the edge of your nail. “You’ve always been special,” you joke, looking away innocently for a moment to lighten your reply.

Truthfully, you wish Ellie was more than your smoking buddy.

Much more.

It didn’t help that smoking with someone was quite an intimate experience if you let it be. Of course, it was sometimes just hitting a pipe at a party or smoking someone’s offered leftovers. But with Ellie, those little things came with late nights spent at her place or yours, sharing food, and–like right now–spending cold Wyoming nights tucked close for warmth. The smoke would hardly leave each other’s personal space. For you, Ellie had always been such a comfortable fit. You never felt awkward if you were dressed in five mis-matched layers with your hair poking out of a toque like you were a kid, or if either of you were fresh off hours of patrol in the saddle, fighting infected in the wilderness. And the talks, of course. On good days it was divine to waste hours away together, listening to Ellie’s records or playing video games. You’d need to smoke on your worst days too, finding Ellie in the gun room or in the food hall after dinner to ask to meet up later, when your family pissed you off or whatever work shift you’d done that day had been horrible. She’d always listen, no matter what.

So what? It was impossible to not develop a huge, fat crush on Ellie Williams. One could only take so many midnights cuddled up under a shared blanket with a pretty girl as you clung and giggled together in the haze of a shared high.

Much like the drug you shared, denying yourself her presence would have made life so, so bland and unbearable. Which was why it was worth it to practice torturous self-restraint so you could keep seeing Ellie and share in these small moments, rituals, without upsetting the delicate balance. You’d already lost someone recently who you hadn’t even been dating; just somehow fucked up being just friends. There was no way dating Ellie was in the cards.

Now, you’re stuck with her overnight in one of the only lookouts that doesn’t have a heating stove of any sort. A joint and a tangle of blankets on the floor to share for warmth isn’t your brightest, but you’re sure as fuck about to do it.

After a brief discussion of where best to smoke, as opening a window was simply not an option with the negative temperatures outside and hardly any warmer indoors, you agreed the small bathroom was the hotboxing location. First: it was non-functional, and therefore not likely to be entered if you left the door closed if second: you opened the window later, above where the tiling ended in the shower tub, and left it that way for the room to air out the next day after the storm had passed. The walls of the room were already rotting in the corners, and with the tiles some water and wind wouldn’t make it any worse for wear. If someone happened to notice, then hopefully not much damage would be done to the structure.

You fiddle with the filter end of the joint while Ellie piles your jackets and every cushion and throw the lookout had to offer into the tub. “Impressed?” Ellie turns your way, still crouched on the ground with her elbow resting on the edge of the tub, looking goofy and proud of herself.

“Very much so.” You chuckle and get in the tub, clutching the joint in one hand and your lighter in the other.

You tuck your limbs up together in the bathtub, grumbling and kicking each other playfully as you settle in facing one another. You flip the top of your lighter and spark it, bringing the flame up to the end of the joint. “This is a luxury, if you think about it,” You say once the joint hits smoothly and burns evenly. You tap the ash off in a dirty corner of the tub and pass it to Ellie. “Being trapped in a blizzard?”

“No–a whole joint for two people, dumbass.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Sorry I’m not a mind reader.” She hit the joint, sucking in extra air through her teeth and coughing on the way out. “The kief in this is definitely a luxury though. You can feel it.”

“Like I said, you’re special.” When you took the joint back, you delicately put your lips around the cardboard where her’s had just been, unable to not think about it.

After passing the joint back and forth for about ten minutes, you felt the high settle into your muscles. Into your nerves, lighting your senses up. Your legs that were tangled with Ellie’s found themselves pulling closer, and her foot gently moving across your calf sent it jolting. Then her hand was there, steadying you, pulling you in closer. Smoke came out of her nose as she laughed, your fingers pressing as you passed the joint between you, the smoke curling in the air slowly. The literal haze softened all of Ellie’s edges, making her look soft and glowing and perfect.

You feel a sore spot forming as you shifted against the faucet poking into your back, so you leaned forwards into Ellie’s space. “I can’t sit this way, it’s too uncomfortable,” you complain.

Ellie widened her legs and opened her arms, ushering you in. The joint dangled from her lips as she smiled while you gave in to all your urges and settled into her chest, deciding you could indulge yourself just this once. Ellie offered, after all.

You watch from a new, tantalizing angle as she inhales on the joint by just closing her lips all the way around it, smoke pouring out of her mouth on the exhale while she settles you up against her. She offers the joint to your lips where your head rests on her shoulder. “Mmm, much better,” you sigh, and your lips brush Ellie’s calloused fingers as you take your hit.

Your heavy eyelids flutter and you look up at her face, her green eyes in the dim light of the bathroom reflecting the joint glow as golden. Her gaze flits over your face, jumping from feature to feature, and then her other hand reaches up to gently brush your hair back from your forehead. You can feel every follicle of hair shifting, so delicately moved by Ellie’s touch. A shiver runs through you, making you cough. You squeeze your eyes closed, hoping Ellie didn’t see them almost roll.

“Cold?’ Ellie questions, taking the joint away from your mouth and back to her own. She takes a few drags in a row, filling her lungs with fresh air in between.

“‘Lil bit,” you say, half lying. It is cold as fuck here. You stretch like a cat around Ellie, getting out all the tremors building in your muscles. Ellie offers you the joint again, but you shake your head. “No more, I’m fried.”

“What about re-fried?” Ellie jokes, bringing up dinner from earlier. You groan in frustration and try to roll out of the bathtub. Ellie’s arm that isn’t occupied with the joint wraps around to pull you back. “Noooo!”

“Noooo, you! I’m sick of your corny jokes.” I love your stupid ass, corny jokes. I mean, if a man said that shit it would be so stupid. But you make it… cute. “Unhand me!” Please, never let go. Actually, put that shit out and let’s go get on the bedrolls. “I’m fried and cold! Can we go back where it’s warmer?”

You still as Ellie puts out the joint on the side of the tub and places it in the soap divot in the wall for safekeeping. Getting up is harder than anticipated, and the two of you clumsily gather blankets and cushions and squeeze through the tiny doorway, stale smoke following on the way out. You abandon your cushions haphazardly and throw yourself down on the bedrolls previously laid on the floor; with the sleeping bags insulating you from the ground it would be warmer, and easier to share body heat under the blankets. Together. Of course.

“This was dumb, we should’ve just smoked in here,” You mumble into the floor.

“Shhh,” Ellie soothes, and your muscles feel so leadend you just lie there while Ellie throws the blankets at your feet before joining the heap on the floor. Ellie begins to pull off her layers right in front of you, and you don't bother to turn your gaze away. A sliver of her stomach appears above the hem of her pants as she pulls off her hoodie to strip to her undershirt. Warmth licks through your body from bottom to top, catching on your heart and hitching your breath on the way up. You imagine sliding your fingers, then your tongue, over freckled, scarred skin. Your arm twitches.

Ellie moves to get under the blankets, but your hand catches her wrist as she tries to pull the blanket up. “No pants.” Your hand travels of its own accord down to the waistband of her jeans, just barely brushing her skin. It feels like all you can bear, all your very cells can take before they glued themselves and never leave. You hook your finger in a belt loop and pull back with some of your weight, pulling Ellie in closer, just as much as you dare. Slowly. Also falling away, but gripping on even tighter. “They’ve got outside on them.”

Ellie looks down to your hand where it connects with her. Her lips open almost on a question before her teeth catch on the inside of her bottom lip. Her gaze turns up at you. “You’ve got outside on you.” Ellie reaches up and shoves your shoulder. You lose your grip and catch yourself on the other hand, but then decide to prop back on your other arm. The perfect view to watch Ellie undress.

She unzips her fly and shoves her fingers down at her hips, pulling off her jeans and her thermals all at once, revealing surprisingly skimpy underwear. You can’t help but take a breath at the sight of so much of Ellie at once.

She grins for real, then, letting you stare at her as she yanks off her sock layers to finish with her pants. You reach up and pull your knit off your head, snaking your arms out of your thick sweater. Your clingy thermal layer is all that’s left beneath.

Ellie moves in first, so it seems natural to meet her in the middle.

Her fingertips come gently to rest beneath your chin to steady as your lips meet. Nothing to feel about the first time they touched, as it was so quickly replaced by the second, the third, and the fourth; each time overwhelming the last so all you can think about is how much more you want of Ellie, Ellie, Ellie.

“Hnnmm, Ellie.” Your hands reach for her neck as her other goes for your waist, her body pushing yours back against the bedding.

She mocks you back between kisses. “We’re still not even.” She pops the button of your own pants. You sit up against her and start to move your hands to your hips, but before you can Ellie kisses your cheek instead of your mouth and you stop. Ellie continues kissing across your face, the hand on your jaw moving to– “Let me do it for you.”

Her hand reaches around your butt to grab the middle of your waistband and pull everything but your underwear off at once. Holy shit. Her mouth moves to your neck just as her hand brushes between your legs, and you try to disguise your twitch as lifting yourself up to make it easier for her to pull off your clothing. But there’s no need to hide anything as Ellie pushes you down flat again, hands diving back up to touch your neck and move your hair out of the way, not caring about leaving your pants abandoned at your knees.

You try to focus your swirling mind to coordinate your limbs over your high and now this new addition of Ellie, feeling the warmth of her so close to you at last. You open your neck to Ellie like an offering, sighing as she goes in for her claim with an open mouth. You put all your focus into yanking off your jeans and woolen socks, leaving your thinnest one on your right because you just cannot be bothered a singular second longer. Ellie’s thigh slots between your free legs at last, and you lay back at last to let Ellie slide her hands under your shirt. Your own go up into her auburn locks and across her strong shoulders.

One gentle pull is all it takes to get Ellie to come back up to your lips. You’re ready for more, and Ellie’s going to give it to you.

With her weight on top of you, it starts to feel real. Your lips, entangled with Ellie’s as she makes little noises into your mouth. Sounds you’ve only imagined a million times, finally from the girl herself. The heat of her body pressing into you, the bare of your legs brushing together feels electrifying in the cold room. The heat between your legs on her thigh. Your senses are overwhelmed with her.

“Is this okay?” Ellie barely breathes the words against your skin. Your own breath is caught in your throat as she pulls your shirt up, just exposing the bottom of your breast.

“Oh my… Fuck, yes.” You answer. Now your lips find themselves at Ellie’s neck. Your tongue darts out across her skin, and her body shivers its own answer, her hands stuttering as they trace across your sensitive skin. She tastes chilled and flushed at the same time, salty from sweat and the trail; of ever present old wood that undercut everything, that smelled like her room in the garage at Joel’s house. You work up her neck towards her ear, memorizing and tasting Ellie the whole way.

Her hand fists into the hair at the nape of your neck as your tongue flicks across the thin skin behind her ear. Ellie gasps aloud. Her hips press down onto you, and you groan and lean into her grip on your hair. All of the sudden, Ellie pulls away. She pushes up onto both her hands, looking down at you below while you try to calm your heaving breath. Ellie’s entire body shivers again. “Fuck, I’m fucking cold. Get under here.”

You giggle, in both relief and agreement as Ellie pulls the blankets this way and that. You roll and lift as Ellie maneuvers them below you before pulling them over top of you both. Enveloped in the thick quilt, you let your hand skim down her hip and leg. It’s easier when you can't see so much of her, just focusing on the feeling. Ellie settles down again, still on top of you but content to tuck your hair behind your ears for the moment.

You take in Ellie’s freckles up close as you move your fingers back up her thigh and catch onto the thin band of her underwear. “Not what I expected from you, Williams, but it does explain why your butt always looks so cute.”

Ellie groans and buries her head into the crook of your neck, rolling her body to get your hand to let go. “I’m not very good at keeping up with my laundry, okay?” She grumbles.

You laugh and Ellie presses a quick kiss to your neck and then your cheek. You turn your head to meet her for a third on the lips. “How long have you been looking at my butt?” Ellie smirks.

Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed. “Long time. Longer than I’d care to admit,” you say simply.

“I never felt confident judging your… interest.” Ellie says after a beat. You can see the green clear as day in her eyes, even in the dim lamplight. Her gaze goes downcast, where her hand is still gently moving under your shirt and across your side in a soothing manner.

“Well, you know I’m interested now.”

Her hand skims up again, her thumb trailing slow underneath your breast. “As long as you can accept my spotty laundry habits,” Ellie deadpans.

You grab Ellie around the neck and pull her in as you laugh, enjoying how she tries to kiss you through it all. “‘Course.”

You deepen the kiss, opening your mouth just the slightest to let Ellie know what you want. She responds eagerly, taking your bottom lip between hers. Her hand that’s up near your head cradles your face as you kiss, the other that’s still exploring under your shirt creeps up. With each minute that passes, the kisses turn more heady and Ellie’s gentle roll of her hips across yours has you meeting her in the middle.

Ellie runs her thumb across your nipple, exposing it by finally pushing your shirt to your collarbone. You groan into her mouth as Ellie thumbs it again. She pulls away for a second to let a sliver of spit fall from her lips to your chest. The wetness combined with the cold air makes goosebumps raise all over your torso and arms, and the gentle pad of Ellie’s thumb rhythmically moving across your nipple has you feeling dizzy.

You want to kiss Ellie again, but you’re beginning to feel overstimulated between the amount of touching and your high. The juxtaposition of the freezing room and her warm hands, the hard floor and her gentle touch, how the Ellie of real life was nothing–and everything–like the Ellie in your dreams. Your breath becomes shallow as you watch Ellie slowly, almost reverently, lower her mouth to where her finger had been.

She sucked, and pain and pleasure came in equal amounts. A moan pulls from deep in your chest. “God, Ellie.”

“Yeah?” She heaves in a breath of her own, and you feel her hands shake as she pushes up the other side of your shirt so she can do the same to your other breast.

Your mind reels over the idea that Ellie is, actually, sucking on your tits right now, and your hands grab anywhere on her body they can like she’s the only thing connecting you to reality. You lift one of your legs and hook it around Ellie’s, pulling your thigh firmly between her legs. She fits perfectly on the ridge of your thigh muscle. Ellie rolls her hips just like you hoped she would, and you smile to yourself. Ellie doesn’t indulge herself too long, though, and opens her mouth to blow cool air across your wet skin. You cry out, and she goes in to soothe with quick short strokes of her tongue that has your thigh jumping up against her.

You will yourself in a coordinated manner to grab where your shirt was bunched up beneath your arms and pull it all the way off. One of Ellie’s hands comes down to cup your butt, pulling you up against her and bringing you even closer. A level of touch, of closeness that makes your heart beat so wildly you aren’t sure if you’re ready for it.

“Yeah,” Ellie says again, this time more like praise for you rather than her asking. “That’s good.” She drags her lips up your now fully naked torso, tongue coming across your neck. You’re practically panting as she marks your neck and behind your ear, and you run your hands up Ellie’s back to push her shirt with it.

“You’re good” you mumble, squeezing your thighs around Ellie’s. “Wanna feel your skin.”

Ellie obliges by letting go of you with one hand, then the other, to pull her arms out of her tank top, finally getting to feel her chest flush with your’s. You wrap your arms around Ellie as far as you can, wanting as much of you touching as physically possible. You need to kiss her again, but between your pathetic open-mouthed breathing and the weed, you’re experiencing a level of dry mouth previously unknown. Ellie seems completely the opposite, the way every inch of skin that her mouth had touched on you was slick in a way that made every minute movement from either of you feel delicious.

Ellie’s a woman on a mission you by no means want to detract her from, but you desperately need your canteen. “Ellie…”

“Yes?”

You tug at her hair gently. “I need a drink. Please.” You pull back a bit, and reach for your bag at the edge of the bedrolls.

Ellie quickly detaches and reaches the same direction, her fingers going a few inches further than your own to catch on the strap of your bottle and bring it within your grasp. You both sit back, and while you work to unscrew the top of your bottle, Ellie resets how your legs are slotted together. She goes back to gently kissing across your collarbone and shoulder, unbothered as you take several much needed sips.

You put the cap back on and discard your canteen beside the bed, bringing your arms around Ellie again, brushing across her back. You dip your head down in her direction, wanting more kisses.

You want more than just kisses, too. Now that you’re past the most intense part of your high, warm at last, hydration in your body that livens you on the inside. You lick into Ellie’s mouth deeply, tasting the smoke that still lingered. Desire curls deep within you, the need for Ellie you’d felt for months. A need that no amount of ranting to friends, dreaming, crying alone, journaling, or late nights alone in your bed with your hand down your shorts would ever make go away. You were never able to pawn those feelings off on anyone else: they were only ever for Ellie.

You push yourself up the smallest bit, encouraging Ellie’s hands lower and arching your back to meet her touch. Ellie feels what you want almost immediately, hand going to your ass, pulling one of your buttcheeks to the side as she digs in with her fingers. “Mmm, you are gonna be good,” she purrs, a finger gently teasing along the skin that leads down between your legs.

Ellie readjusts her grip, going even lower this time, pulling on your leg where your ass and thigh meet, and you feel your folds separate. Not only feel, but you hear it, all of the wetness you’ve been leaking coming apart from each other. Your underwear shifts and the fabric sticks to your sensitive cunt. Even with the brush of your skin and both of your heavy breaths, Ellie hears it too.

You feel her grin as she pulls away from your mouth and puts her lips up to your ear. “You know how fucking hot that is? How hot you are?” Ellie says to you, cradling your body that’s melting into her with a little bit of mortification and a whole lot of want. “So gorgeous. Imagined this so many times…” Ellie goes on as she slides her finger between your skin and your underwear, pulling it down and to the side.

“No… way,” you manage to get out, your voice wavering as Ellie’s finger drags through your folds. Her rough fingers on the most sensitive part of you feels unreal.

“Yes.” Her other hand tugs your underwear further, tapping your knee for you to move it so she can take them all the way off. “Pretty girl on my lap. Watching you feel good.” Ellie throws your underwear to the side and wets her middle and pointer finger in her mouth before reaching back around to touch you again. This time as she pulls you open, one finger works your clit while the other presses against your opening. You whine into Ellie’s shoulder, clinging to her, while you arch your back into her touch as far as you can. “Being perfect,” she coos.

Perfect for her, but you’re no longer feeling apprehensive. Ellie was already accepting you at your most desperate.The high from smoking gave over into another. You pull at Ellie’s underwear again, this time grabbing the front. Your fingers brush across her pussy, feeling her stubbly pubic hair and the soft skin of the inside of her thigh. “Want it like this.”

Ellie practically throws you to the side in her hurry to take her underwear off, which has you almost laughing over her shoulder; but you’re back sitting up a second later, this time with Ellie’s fingers touching herself and reaching for you again. You watch Ellie openly as she spreads herself open, and your mouth genuinely begins to water at the sight. Even though it’s mostly obscured in the dim light and shadow of Ellie’s legs, you can see the creamy whiteness of her own arousal. You can almost taste it on your tongue, feeling greedy as Ellie’s finger drags it across her own clit. Something snaps in your brain.

In that same moment, hardly a second, Ellie is pulling you back in so you can finally fit together: comfortable and perfect and electrifying. Ellie plants a hand down to steady herself, while you wrap your arm around her waist. You shift against each other, moving skin and limbs until you’re slotted together perfectly as one. Your nails scrape against Ellie’s scalp when you sink a hand into her hair at the first roll of your hips together, and it makes her moan the loudest she has all night.

“Fuck yes,” and she captures you in a kiss.

Your noses are pressed into each other's cheekbones, sharing the same breath, Ellie calling you ‘pretty’ and ‘babe’ and ‘my girl’ as your hips chase the allure of your orgasm with the help of Ellie’s touch. You can hear the change in pitch of the noises you’re making, everything just tumbling out of your mouth as you hold Ellie tight. Your clit presses into Ellie at just the right spot, and you’re seeing white.

“Oh my god, Ellie–I, holy–I’m,” you stutter, your muscles getting tighter and tighter.

Ellie quits moving as much, and your cunt throbs at the loss of friction. You moan as Ellie tries to back away, to put her hand between you and where her own pussy had been, but you pull your hips back together and put a hand on Ellie’s knee to keep her down. “No,” you huff, moving against her again, the pleasure flooding back with the easy glide. “Want it like this.”

Ellie’s eyes go wide, and you close yours before you can see the expression on her face as she watches you take her. “Anything. Anything you want,” she says breathlessly as she goes in to kiss you, lifting herself up against you, as her own muscles start to shake.

“Want your come in me.” You pull yourself against Ellie, thinking of you becoming one, Ellie’s spit and cream and sweat and love all in you at once.

Ellie offers you the perfect angle, and wraps her arms around your back and shoulders, cradling your neck as you fall over the edge with a final grind of your hips. You cry out her name and let her support you as she keeps the pace with her own hips, until you are shaking and stammering for her to slow. “Oh, Ellie. Please, I’m…”

You lose all ability to form words when she stops and holds you a bit up and to the side, sliding a finger into you. You’d come how you wanted, and it was amazing, but somehow Ellie knew you were feeling empty, that your pussy craved to clench around something, how good it felt now as she put in another finger and you could feel your muscles around her.

“Fuck,” Ellie breaths out, blowing a strand of hair from her face. She watches your expression as she lazily pushes her fingers in and out, touching you just enough to make your comedown easier and avoiding your sensitive clit.

You take several deep breaths before managing to lift your head. You lock eyes with Ellie, amazed by how beautiful she looks. You make an indiscriminate noise and reach down to still Ellie’s hand in you.

“Okay now?” She asks. You nod. She pulls her fingers out slowly, drawing them across the outside of your pussy one last time before she puts them in her mouth. Ellie hums in pleasure and closes her eyes for dramatic effect. You barely have the energy to huff, let alone laugh, but your hand moves down to where Ellie’s legs meet.

“Want me…?” You ask when she opens her eyes and looks down at you. Ellie shakes her head.

“No need.” She says, pulling both of your legs, which are already feeling unuseable, to the same side so she can cradle you in her lap and plant more kisses on your head.

“Oh,” you say with a bit of relief at the realization of your own exhaustion. “Whe–”

“Don’t worry about it.” Ellie kisses your lips quiet. You put your hand up to keep her there for a moment, before letting go. “Lemme go get the joint.” Ellie says.

“Okayyyy, fiend.”

You roll off her and over, covering yourself in the quilt that had eventually been crumpled at the base of the bedrolls. Ellie reaches for her flannel and pulls her underwear back on, before scurrying back to the bathroom in the cold.

While Ellie is gone, you reach back for your canteen. You take another drink from it, then reach into your bag and dig around until you find your lighter and one of your unused bandanas, not wanting to waste the clean rags in your medical kit. You wet the cloth with some of your water and wipe between your legs, making a face at your own sensitivity and the cold of the water. Ellie sprints back in and dives under the blanket right next to you, and you swap the cloth with her for the joint. Ellie accepts the cloth gratefully, and slides her legs from the blanket for one more moment to clean herself.

Before she closes her legs, you lean over and press a kiss to her inner thigh. “You are next though.” You pull back.

Ellie tucks up her legs and gets back under the blanket, face going red. “You wanna… eat me out?”

“After we smoke again.” You grab your huge sweater, throwing it on to cover up since your body was starting to cool down again. You let the quilt pool at your waist and spark up the joint. Ellie watches from the floor, a smile playing on her lips. Her hand reaches out to caress your uncovered hip, like she can’t not touch you.

“Can all our smoke sessions be like this?” She asks.

“Hear me out on this one,” you say, taking a drag from the joint. “Maybe even when we’re not going to smoke.”

Ellie snorts and reaches for the joint. When you put it back between your lips and innocently clasp your hands behind your back, she pulls you in by your neck and plucks it from your mouth on her own.

#fic recs #recs

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minustwofingers · 2 months ago

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exoplanet epilogue

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

series masterlist

warnings: one vague mention of nsfw content if you squint, probably many errors that i missed bc i didn't edit this too well

a/n: hey. been a while. hope you guys enjoy. i know this one is short. i'm going to release deleted scenes/abandoned plots that i've written for them, but i just find it exceedingly difficult to write domestic bliss because that is an experience i have not had in literal years and have decided to make that everyone else's problem. hope the 2 remaining exoplanet readers enjoy this, thanks for waiting for over a year!

word count: 1.6k

enjoy!

ex·o·plan·et: a planet that orbits a star outside the solar system.

Love is not easy for Ellie. It has never been easy, not since Riley. There was Joel, who seemed like an exception at first when they met, like a mountain of strength that could never be moved. Even in the apocalypse he seemed immortal . But then that day at the university happened, and for the first time she saw her image of him crack open and bleed out along with him.

I should know better she’d promised herself that day, all bloody fingers and sloppily sewn stitches. I need to know better.

Because if the end of the world has taught her anything, it’s that nothing lasts. Not Riley. Not humanity. And, it logically follows, nothing else that she loves.

It’s why Cat didn’t work out. Or, better said, Ellie didn’t work out for Cat.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Ellie had choked out to her one night after Cat had come back from patrol, coated in blood from an infected she’d had to kill off. She’d never been able to sleep when she knew that Cat was out, even if she herself had a patrol early the next morning.

Cat had frowned, pausing the washcloth she was swiping across her bloodied face. “What do you mean? I thought what we had was good between us.”

“It is,” Ellie had said. “That’s not it.”

Cat had just given her a skeptical look.

“It is,” Ellie had insisted. “I just can’t handle worrying about you. I’m sorry. I’m a wreck every time you leave Jackson.”

“I don’t understand,” Cat had said. “You go on patrol. We’re both always fine. I’m going to be fine, babe. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Ellie had glanced down discreetly at the arm Cat had just finished tattooing. She’d known that she was being irrational. But at the end of the day, Ellie had known of many people around her to die, and she herself hadn’t died yet. And then there was the immune thing, which just fed into the whole fucked up mess.

“I’m sorry,” she’d said again. “I’m really sorry.”

And that was that. Cat went back to her life as someone who was no longer Ellie’s girlfriend, and Ellie went back to moodily sulking around the house, writing in her journal about how for some reason she was always destined to be alone and that it’s better that way until Joel made her go out to see Dina and Jesse.

But it’s different with you. Love is easy with you.

It’s in everything, from the way you link your pinky fingers under the dinner table where no one can see to the way she lets you hog the blankets every night.

It’s in the flowers you bring her in the spring from your gardening shifts, the trinkets she brings you from patrols, your hand in hers as you stargaze in the dead of winter.

Weeks stretch into months which eventually, somehow, inexplicably, stretch into years. Joel’s house turns into “our” house—the recently vacated one by the meadow with the obnoxiously blue kitchen cabinets. The empty rooms turn into something with meaning. The living room becomes a shrine to the stars, the old guest room a dedication to the stray black cat that had been left behind by some family passing, and, most predictably, the bedroom a shrine to you. Or her. Depends on the day.

Ellie is actually a very good cook, which is the only reason you two don’t starve. She spends her evenings in front of the stove, spatula in hand and frown etched firmly into her face as she surveys the pan in front of her.

You ooh and aah at everything she plates, whether it be a slice of buttered toast or some elaborate cut of steak.

But she doesn’t always cook. Sometimes, for old time’s sake, Joel invites you two over for dinner. Like he did tonight.

From where she sits next to you at the dining table, she leans down into your ear like she’s going to whisper something sweet. Instead: “Are you going to finish that?” She motions to the thick slice of bread sitting untouched on your plate.

You roll your eyes, stabbing your fork into it and dropping it on her plate.

She beams back at you, and you suppress a smile as you turn back to the conversation between Dina and Joel.

“...and I told Maria that if she was going to keep putting me on the shitty patrol routes with fucking Robert, she was going to have to be okay with some attitude from me afterwards,” Dina is saying, a fork animatedly hanging from her fingers. She looks better than ever, skin glowing and eyes bright. So do you, but that’s sort of a moot point—Ellie always thinks you look good.

Joel raises an eyebrow. “Well, I can have a talk with Tommy and see if he can have a word with ‘er.”

There’s a nudge at Ellie’s hand, the one that’s resting on her thigh under the table. It’s your pinky finger, edging over to hook with hers.

She nudges you back, but rolls her eyes at you so you know that she thinks you’re being a sap.

From the dim candlelight of the kitchen, she can see the ghost of dirt from the garden under your nails. You keep them short and bare now, a far cry from the pearly oval-shaped ones of the past. For a while, you tried to track down all the nail files and clear polish in Jackson to keep them looking pretty, but after Maria started exclusively putting you on gardening and baking duty, you were lucky to go a day without them breaking.

Ellie isn’t complaining. The only job that requires you to not be doing hard work with your hands is patrol, and it’s tough to tell which one of you hates the idea more. You, because you’ll be worried sick about the prospect of getting killed; Ellie, because she’s worried even sicker every time you leave the bounds without her. Patrolling together isn’t so bad, but Ellie’s never forgotten the way you screamed after she pulled that arrow out all those years ago, and she’s vowed to never let it happen again.

“We should probably get going,” you say after Dina’s finished complaining about her Maria-flavored angst. “Both of us are on morning shifts.”

“Well, shit,” says Joel. “I was going to offer you some coffee before you went.”

The walk from Joel’s to yours is short, just down the lane. Coincidentally, the only empty house that’d been ready for you two to move into was the one that overlooks the meadow by the stables. Something about it still tastes like fate, even though it’s been a year and a half since Ellie moved in with you.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid tomorrow morning,” you’re telling her as you both shed your jackets and boots in the foyer. “I don’t want to be a widow this young.”

“As long as you promise me the same. I don’t want to hear that you fell into the oven while baking bread or something.”

You cross your arms and glare at her, and there’s a little kick of affection in Ellie’s chest. “This isn’t a joke!”

“I know, I know.” She’s standing in front of you in an instant, hands cupping your face as she grins at you. “But I’m immune. I’m basically, like, invincible. You don’t need to worry about me. You, however…”

As the sun sets, you let her lead you to bed. When your shirt falls to the ground, there’s still a slight mark on your lower belly where the arrow had struck you all those years ago—a stamp of sorts, a reminder of a time much more complicated and arduous. Evidence that everything that happened really did, even though it feels like ever since you’ve shown up nothing in her life has fallen into the realm of probability anymore.

Like, really. Not even straight people get their soulmate virtually delivered to their doorstep. Ellie’s won two lotteries, and only one of them has anything to do with her immunity.

You two typically fall asleep right after, night accelerating into morning with the speed lent to it by exhaustion from a hard day’s work. But this night is different.

It’s special.

It’s about to be the same day you parted ways, back in the meadow up north so many years ago. The one where you screamed out for her as the scanner glowed red, where you had to be physically dragged into the helicopter. Somehow she knows she’ll dream of it again, like she does every year when this day rolls around.

You looked younger then, Ellie realizes as she looks down at you. You’re asleep and none the wiser, mouth slightly agape. There’s a few fine lines in the corner of your eyes now. An etched path where the skin of your cheeks meet when you smile. She can’t see them now, but she knows that there’s a gray hair or two somewhere on your head. You’d pointed it out to her in horror just a week or so ago, citing bad family genes that cause graying before 30.

But while you’re scandalized by the thought of going gray, Ellie is enthralled.

Riley will never get smile lines. Sam will always have the chubby cheeks of a child.

But you—you get to grow old. Somehow she’s known this in the back of her head for some time now, but seeing the physical evidence of it, proof that you’ve made it this long, soothes her tired soul in a way she didn’t know was possible.

So when she finally sleeps, she doesn’t dream of anything.

final a/n: and that's a wrap! after over a year of me stringing you guys along, i've finally completed exoplanet. this has been such a wild ride and a lot of stuff has happened since we last spoke. i'm excited to be back. thanks for reading <3

tags: @intrnetdoll @dazedshoon @lovecaraya @pctcr @sariyaflowr @loser-keiji @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @elliesbabygirl @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower @muthafuckingstargirl @elliewilliamsissubermommyoml @eviestevie-14 @quicksilversg1rl @guacala @crtcrp @overtrred28 @sugarqueencosmos @iriswalrus @chiao1209 @lovecaraya @thatgiraffefromtlou @alwayslongingforyou @thelastofshimmer

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x oc #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams imagine

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