#Cowgirl Ellie Williams
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cowgirl!Ellie is doing something to meeee idkkkkkk...
Like let me be your house wife and cook you some lunch while I look out through the kitchen window and watch you while your herding and roping animals when you're in your white dirty wife beater and jeans with your cowgirl boots and you're muddy and you're sweating. I'll bring you a cup of lemonade outside for your hard work. And usually I don't like the idea of me being a house wife... BUTTTTTT for cowgirl!Ellie that's a different story.
#Western au#Cowgirl Ellie Williams#house wife#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#lesbian#ellie williams x female reader#the last of us#lgbtq
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cowgirl ellie williams …. save me cowgirl ellie williams
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okay PLEASE, so chappell roan performed “the giver” on snl. all I could think about was cowgirl! ellie and abby. it’s literally THEEE stone top anthem! 👅
cowgirl ellie is the ultimate stone top: from sun up, 'till sun down, she is a pleasure-giving machine in all departments. ellie finds her schedule to be the least bit monotonous—rather, it's you who said so. startups at five in the morning, in the mucked-out lands, is a feat she wouldn't trade for the world. she finds it peaceful; the rough hours of sleep and the rough weight of a thousand chores; how sweet of a novelty is it, to be doing it all for you?
she is cruel-loving. she enforces her love. she is the girl that guides you back to bed if you stir from it simply too soon. she, with the good of all her heart, won't let you lift a finger. “shh—what are you doing up, babe? i know you gotta be tired.” the base of the pan—mottled in bits of scrambled eggs—would scrape against the stove as she set it. “go sleep a little longer, you mucked the paddock out all night.” she would then guide you right through the hall, pressing slow creaks in the wooden floor with her palms on your shoulders. the warmth of them is pleasant. humming with the heat of breakfast, pots and handles, the whole assortment of summer mornings in her romance-novel touch. she nudged you with love.
bedtime is a game of roulette—however. either, she is spooning with her obnoxious head filling the space on your shoulder, or she is filling the gap in your legs. once the sun is concealed and the romantic, golden light of lamps is washing over your limbs so delicate—often, to a point of delicateness, that she can't help herself.
“how many fingers baby?” the low thrum inside her rolled into your thigh, where her lips sit, patient and wet. the tone it rolled with made you want to compress your thighs shut; hide the reaction it gave you. but—those hands, illustrated straight from a novel and into your endless whim, press them down.
the room is quiet with the sound of her mouth, without your answer.
ellie props up. “can you say somethin, princess?” fingers brushing relentless circles around, above, but never on your cunt. it's not that she relies on direction; she relies on you being present, obedient, and most of all: confident. hearing you be open and honest about what you need, screams wife material to her; made you a keeper. the calloused pads of her fingers encourage along your stomach, spreading out with her thumb oh-so close to your clit, inching between your folds.
“ellie,” the name slipped from your lips so naturally. a whimper folded in without your trying.
she almost gave in because of it.
“t-three.”
“oh?” she cooed, soft and sweet. “bold choice, babe.” the comment, and the sensation of her thumb coming into light contact, jolted you. a bicep enclosed your thigh before it could shut.
she groans that signature curse when she enters you. so wetly, so easily.
“fuck babe.”
it held it there as long as her fingers were stuffed inside. shameful noises—the ones that escaped either end—spread throughout the room. she watched as she made you listen; dragging her fingers in hard, out slow—as you remember her hips doing. curling up into that spot that creates heaven inside and gets everything all over her fingers, to the base of her knuckles. swallowing her with incurable desperation. it felt like she was inside you, in each part of you; the thickness of three fingers fucking your pussy, as well as your mind, which thought thoughtless thoughts, and said thoughtless words. “f-fuck, ellie, i want fuckin' all of you,” you panted, clenching around the muscles and pumps of her fingers.
her smiling mouth said to you: “yeah?” with dimples that went deeper at the tip of her tone. she roped in a concise kiss, peppering your thigh that trembled against her cheek. she needed nothing more. nothing done, nothing said; your words riled her enough. the sounds of fabric brushed together as she slid up through your open legs, pulling up with her arms—which define with subtle veins and toning—pressing her crotch into you. she inhaled, and let your scent fill her. “you're so goddamn sweet. mhh, okay, i'll fuckin' give it to you.”
an: i haven't listened to the song too much, but i craved cowgirl!ellie either way and the domesticism she brings to the table 💙
#♱ | “footnotes.”#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#cowgirl!ellie#ellie tlou#lesbian#sapphic#stonetop!ellie#dom!ellie#ellie x reader#ellie williams x fem!reader#ellie williams fic#ellie williams blurb
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KINDLY, DARLIN' - 𝐸.𝑊
summary. after seemingly endless days on the road, you find yourself at a random country bar in the middle of nowhere. entering with the sole goal of getting your hands on come kind of alcohol, your attention is soon drawn elsewhere. to a girl and her guitar. notes. ok funny story! this idea came to me from a 5 sec interaction i had with a complete stranger. i went out to a bar, gave ten bucks to the singer, & he said the line that the title is based off of , which the prompted my brain to conjure up an entire love story (he's prob double my age lets be so fr) Also! idk if any of u will like this comparison (if not, just ignore this). but, as i wrote this, i imagined ellie's voice like lucy gray's from the hunger game's. like the slight country drawl, strong vocals, yes yes yes yes Also x2! anyone who follows me should know that im absolute SHITTT at writing smut. but, for some reason, that doesn't seem to stop me from creating works of garbage for my own amusement. anyway, if you reach the smut & realize that it's literal trash, i won't blame u for clicking off of this. just a warning! warnings. brief mention of creepy old men at the bar, depictions of alcohol, public flirting ???, eventual smut, drunk sex in a bathroom LMAO, oral (r! receiving), fingering (r!receiving) wc. 5.1k
𝓕uck your back hurts. Well, if you're being honest, everything hurts. Your neck, back, stomach, legs, hands. Everything that's capable of aching, does.
However, rather unfortunately, you suppose that's to be expected after driving for nigh two days straight in your shitty truck. It's a 90s pickup, the white paint peeling and the tires in desperate need of care. The beige seats are worn and stained, evidence of age having taken its toll on your poor vehicle.
In spite of your truck's needs, you're far more interested in your own ⎯ getting a damn drink.
You're currently coasting through the backroads of some small western town, streets made of dirt and buildings all decrepit. You've never heard of this place before, the name having already slipped your mind due to how utterly foreign it'd been to your mind.
Your headlights cast a yellow glow onto the dirt before you, your tires crunching against fallen leaves and loose rocks. You pass gas stations, wooden homes, dollar stores, an immeasurable amount of churches, and no liquor store. Most shop signs are staked into the dirt, the few billboards all dilapidated in some way ⎯ broken letters, flickering lights, or completely torn from the ground somehow.
Then, by either the grace of God or a wondrous turn of fate, your eyes stutter on a certain sign. A broken wooden one advertising a bar. Your interest is instantly piqued, wheel turning toward the building without hesitation.
You don't give yourself the chance to even think before you're hopping out of your truck and walking into the bar.
The moment you push open the wooden double doors, the sound of boisterous laughter and heavy cowboy boots meet your ears. Perfect.
You stand in place for a moment, craning your neck with narrowed eyes are you examine the atmosphere. To the left, there's a bar with almost every stool occupied by an overweight old man. To the right, there's a pair of barn doors with the word 'restrooms' carved into the wood. In the center of the space, there's bucking machine ⎯ a drunk teenage boy holding on for dear life while his group of friends cackle at him from the sidelines.
Then, on the side of the building opposite you, there's a small stage. It's only elevated a foot or so, wood rotting a bit on the edges. But you hardly care for the conditions of the stage itself. What you find yourself drawn to is the person on it.
In the center is a stool, an auburn haired woman perched atop it with an old guitar situated on her lap. She strums the instrument in an upbeat tempo, leaned forward slightly as she sings into the microphone before her. There's a small crowd in front of the stage, girls admiring and boys whistling.
Considering how run-down this town is, you hadn't expected to stumble across a bar that's so fucking packed. There's barely any open stools at the bar, the bathroom doors are rarely sitting still as people continue to pass through them, the mechanical bull being gifted coins non-stop. But you can't complain.
After so long alone on the road, it's nice to be in such an active atmosphere. It's not calming, of course, but you welcome it lovingly nonetheless.
Watching the auburn for a few moments longer, you then turn on your heel and saunter over to the bar. You're forced to sit beside someone as the lack of stools forbids you from not having a neighbor.
"What can I get'cha, hon'?" The bartender asks you with a tip of his cowboy hat. In his other hand, he wipes the outside of an octagonal glass cup.
"Got any whiskey?" You inquire, leaning your elbows on the sticky countertop.
"Mhm," He hums, turning around to grab a bottle from the shelves behind the bar. He sets the glass onto the counter with a light clink, popping the bottle open. "'N' how would ya like it?"
"Neat."
He nods once more, pouring the liquid into the glass with a flourish before sliding it across the wood toward you. The moment you grab it, he's turning away to tend to another patron. You drink it quickly, downing the glass in one large swig.
As you place the glass back onto the counter, you feel eyes boring into you. Hoping it's someone of interest to you, you turn only to find a duo of old men chuckling at you. Their cheeks are rosy, bellies full ⎯ therefore likely drunk. You roll your eyes as the bartender refills your glass without a word.
Now with an entirely new bit of determination, you down that glass even faster. Another refill. Another singular gulp. Another refill. Another gulp. Another. Another. Another.
You're now swaying a bit atop your stool, feeling pretty good all things considered. The men continue to gossip among themselves, pointing at your ass. You feel disgusted ⎯ not at yourself, but at them for their fucking audacity. Part of you wants to knock their teeth out. But you're not that drunk.
So, instead, you take the mature approach and simply pick up your glass and exit the scene. As you walk away, you hear their chuckles increase and you suddenly regret not punching them.
Your heavy boots thud against the wooden flooring as you walk aimlessly around the bar. You push through an amass of bodies, everyone too drunk to care for your harsh shoving. Then, before you know it, you find yourself situated in the very front of the stage, glass of whiskey in hand.
The woman's voice is laced with a slight country drawl, her boot tapping against the leg of her stool to count the beats of the song. She nods her head as she sings, a small grin lighting her features.
The dim lighting of the bar doesn't do her justice. But you still manage to notice the freckles that dot her face, the cupids bow to her upper lip, the small scar on her right eyebrow. Or maybe you're just drunk and enamored by her. God, what if she finds you creepy? What if she thinks you're some fucking creep? What if she⎯
She looks at you and you swear your heart gives out right then and there. And, if that weren't enough, she winks. You feel your cheeks heat up and you blame it on the alcohol. You down the rest of your whiskey, suddenly feeling very hot. A light chuckle shakes her chest, ringing throughout the space. Nobody else thinks anything of it, of course, all too drunk and preoccupied to give a shit. But you find yourself fantasizing about all the other ways you could make this woman laugh like that again. Oh fuck you are a creep.
In a desperate attempt to salvage the residual bits of dignity you have left, you pull twenty bucks from your back pocket and step forward to drop it into her open guitar case.
She raises a brow, tipping her cowgirl hat in your direction with a smirk. "Thank ya kindly, darlin'."
Somehow, she'd managed to thank you in tune with the song, keeping the beat going without missing a second. It's almost impressive. Okay, it's super impressive. In fact, you feel your heart speeding up again, mind playing on loop the sound of her addressing you. Her country drawl, her smirk, her long fingers grabbing the bridge of her hat. Fuck.
Impulsively, you end up turning on your heel and heading right back to that damn bar. The bartender just grins as he pours you another serving, likely having noticed the flush to your cheeks and the desperation of which you placed the glass down.
"Mind if I give y' some advice?" He asks, leaning forward a bit.
In an act of self pity, you don't have the energy to deny him. "Why the hell not?"
"I ain't gotta clue who you're blushin' over, but my advice is that." He nods toward something behind you. You cast a glance over your shoulder, eyes landing on the bucking machine. You almost laugh, turning back to him with an unimpressed expression. "Listen, y' ain't gotta be good. Y' jus' gotta move your hips right n' I swear he's all yours. Trust me. I've seen it work hundreds of times."
You don't dare to correct him on the gender of your current infatuation, instead deciding to take a few more drinks for a bit of liquid courage. I mean, seriously. How else will you get this woman's attention? Plus, what do you have to lose? You'll never see her again after tonight. The least you could do is try.
After another few drinks, you're staggering over to the mechanical bull with a few coins clutched tight in the palm of your hand. The wait for the stupid thing is way longer than necessary, everyone competing for the longest time lasted on the machine.
You lean your empty hand on the frame of the wooden fence that encircles the rider, watching with reddened eyes as yet another person is flung onto the ground with a heavy thud. He rubs his head with a groan, though his sounds of pain quickly fade into laughter as he brushes off his jeans and stands upright, returning to his boisterous friends with a crooked grin.
Unease begins to lick up your spine, the logical part of your brain wondering why the fuck you're doing this for some country chick you don't even know the name of. You're strong, sure, but your luck would lead you to breaking your neck.
You look over your shoulder casting a glance in the direction of the bar. The bartender gives you two thumbs up, flashing you a grin with missing teeth. As encouraging as that is, what really pushes you to continue is seeing those two old men. They're sitting side-by-side, lustrous smirks on their face as they stare at you, leaning over every few seconds to mutter something in the other's ear. Yeah. Fuck them. You're doing this.
As you make it to the front of the line, you're overcome with naught but confidence. Whether that be due to the sound of the woman's singing growing nearer or the sight of the gross old men, you don't know. Though, honestly, it's likely because of the sheer amount of whiskey you've downed in the past hour.
"Coins." The blonde woman demands, palm of her hand facing you like a bill you've been avoiding. You place the coins into her hand and she opens the gate, hinges squealing as the prior rider stumbles out with a streak of dirt under her eye.
You walk into the ring, feet staggering a bit already from your drunkenness. You hoist yourself onto the bull, situating yourself until you feel a bit less awkward atop the back of the metal animal.
It begins rocking slowly back and forth. You find it easy at first, not really needing to use your hands. You still do, though, not much trusting the machine to not throw you off the moment you let your guard down. It picks up the speed, more. More. More. More. And, before you know it, it's thrashing back and forth. You hold onto the saddle, a dazed smile spreading across your face as you find yourself having fun.
It spins in a circle, your eyes suddenly catching on the woman on stage. She has the perfect view of you from her pedestal, her stool bringing her higher than the crowd just as the bull brings you.
She's still singing into the mic, her voice drowned out by the sound of chatter and cheers ⎯ though you're not sure if they're directed toward you or her at this point.
You've stayed on longer than you anticipated, the ache in your back returning as the bull yanks and dives under you. But you hold on, suddenly remembering the bartender's advice. You don't want to switch up whatever tactic you accidentally built into habit, but the point of this is to get the woman's attention.
So you wait until it spins back around. Then, while her eyes are pinned to yours, you shift a bit, back moving more fluidly as you roll your hips against it. Nobody else would think anything of it, the act so subtle that you simply appear to have altered your position. But she noticed. You know she did. Because her voice caught in her throat, causing her to have to take a sip from her water and apologize into the mic before resuming.
Your confidence spikes at this, suddenly feeling much more egoistical than you did when she was a complete stranger you made eye contact with once. Now you know you have an effect on her.
So you do it again, maintaining eye contact as you roll your hips against the bull suggestively.
Just as before, nobody else pays any mind, far too focused on the fact that you're stayed on for so long to give a fuck about technique. Honestly, if anyone were to notice, it'd be those creepy old men. And, hopefully, they're aware that it's pointed at this woman and now them. Though you doubt they'd care. Creeps like them rarely do.
The singer, with her eyes now pinned to you ⎯ though, everyone's now are ⎯ switches her tone a bit. Her song alters from an upbeat bar tempo with little meaning to having more directed lyrics to a girl with mesmerizing eyes. Again, nobody else picks up on this. She sings about a random girl with stunning eyes, never digressing past that.
But you know; and she knows. And that's all that matters.
She sings a certain line, something more lustful about the way you look at her. Something suggestive about the way she's imagining you. You instantly falter, your grip slipping.
You fall to the ground with a thud, the entire bar making a sound of disappointment and empathy. You don't care, though, not giving a single damn about the bull riding. All you care for is that fucking singer.
You hit the ground, breath knocked from your lungs. You cough, pushing yourself onto your hands and knees. Your head spins, the alcohol finally catching up to you. Another cough is yanked from your heaving chest as you groan.
The blonde coin-collecting woman allows the next person into the ring, not waiting for you to give your say. As the next man enters, he offers you his hand. You, desperate for assistance, take it with a grateful smile. He hauls you to your feet, muttering quick compliments on your performance on the bull. You thank him before brushing past him and exiting the ring with staggering steps.
A few people from the crowd compliment you, offering words of encouragement for the 'next time you go up'. You give them half-hearted smiles, chest still aching slightly from your fall.
You shove through the crowd, nearing the restrooms you'd seen at the entrance. You push the doors open and head into the women's side.
You brace your hands on the edge of the sink, glancing in the mirror for a brief moment ⎯ examining the small cut on your cheekbone and the bruises that are beginning to form on your shoulder and hip. You then lean down, positioning your mouth under the faucet before turning on the water. You drink it, relishing in the taste of cool liquid rather than burning alcohol.
"Mm, look who it is."
You smack your head on the faucet with how quickly you straighten. You groan, rubbing your temple as you turn to face the person standing behind you. The singer. Well fuck, that makes the head smack twenty times more embarrassing.
Somehow, she's even more alluring up close. Her pale green eyes bore into you, lashes lidding them slightly. Her skin is lightly tanned, freckles likely produced from a life spent under the sun. Her forearm has a tattoo covering the rippled skin there, lean muscles adorning the rest of said arm.
You play off your staring by narrowing your eyes at her, "Followin' me, are ya?"
"Nah." She shakes her head, stepping forward to wash her hands in the sink beside yours. She tips her head down, looking at her hands as she scrubs, hat coming to block her face from your view. Unfortunate. "Jus' comin' t' wash the filth off my hands. I wouldn't worry, though, darlin', I'm sure that Smilton boy'll check up on ya."
Your brows furrow at this. "Smillin boy?"
"Smilton." She corrects you rather harshly, looking up to meet your eyes through the reflection of the mirror. "Farmer's boy. Rich. Brunette. Helped y' up after the bull."
Realization hits you like a brick. She's jealous. This woman that you've never met, this woman that you stressed over impressing, this woman that you bruised yourself to get the attention of. She's jealous because some farmer's boy helped you stand up. A smirk tugs at your lips, an idea lighting your mind.
"Hmm," You hum lowly, brushing past her to dry your hands on one of the scratchy white towelettes. "He is quite handsome, ain't he?"
"Suppose." She replies shortly.
Your smirk only deepens, drying your hands achingly slow. Because you know she's aware that she has no right to be jealous. And that only serves to make her more pissed off. How interesting.
"What's his first name, if y' don't mind me askin'?" You speak casually, talking with her as though everything that passed between you two prior to this hadn't happened at all. It's driving her insane and you can tell.
"I dunno." She says, turning the faucet off to dry her hands beside you. "Somethin' with a J?"
"Oh, c'mon," you coo, turning to her with those eyes you know she adores. "I know y' know more than jus' his last name."
She looks away, clearing her throat with a set jaw, "you're right. Know his first initial too. It's a J."
You chuckle lightly, releasing the towelette to trace your fingertips along the soft skin of her bicep. "Yeah? And what's your first initial?"
Her entire body seems to tense, breath hitching in reaction to your touch. She looks at you from under the bridge of her hat, green eyes glinting with something informal. Something unfit for a casual conversation between two strangers in the women's rest room. You feel your heart stutter at the sight, having to make an effort not to fall to your knees before her in this very moment.
"E," is all she whispers.
"Last name?" You whisper back, matching her for quietude.
"Williams." She manages.
You hum, eyes following the movements of your hand. Had you not been so drunk, you'd likely never have the balls to be so flirty to her. But, as it turns out, your intoxication is good for something. Well, something aside from staying on some metal bull.
"How pretty," you whisper, leaning forward so your mouth is now right beside her ear. Your breath fans across her skin as you continue. "Now tell me your full name, will ya?"
Her eyes are pinned to your face, pupils tracing your features as your hand traces her arm. She finds herself mesmerized by you, entranced by your every detail ⎯ the slope of your nose, the curve of your cheek, the arc of your brow, the height of your cheekbones, the line of your jaw. She imagines running her tongue along each of these points, imagines committing your to memory using naught but her mouth.
"Ellie." She replies finally, watching closely as your eyes raise to meet hers. Her heart stutters in her chest at that, as it always does when you make eye contact.
Your gaze flicks between her eyes and lips, hand slowly inching up her arm. "Ellie?"
The sound of her name rolling off your tongue is enough to send a spark of heat to her core. That paired with the way your fingers are lightly tracing up, up, up. You move your hand over her shoulder, along her collarbone, up the side of her neck, and finally rests to cup her cheek in your palm. She leans into the touch, eyes fluttering.
"You're such a fuckin' tease," she mutters, voice low as it's weighed down by desire and a deep need to feel your skin on hers.
You ignore her words and move to lean in close enough that your noses brush. Then, with your breath fanning across her skin, you ask, "this okay?"
She doesn't say anything, instead abandoning the towelette completely and grabbing your face in both her hands. With a sudden sense of ferocity, she presses her lips to yours, pulling your body flush against hers.
"I'll take that as a yes," you chuckle between kisses.
"Quiet," she murmurs, too needy for your touch to have time for conversation. As much as she loves hearing you talk, shed much rather talk via action rather than actual words.
You giggle against her lips, your arms coming up to wrap around her neck. She hums, hat falling to the tiled floor with a light brush. With each passing second, her actions become more and more desirous, suddenly pushing your back against the nearest wall. You let out a huff of air from the impact, your lips quirking up to form a small smile, regaled by Ellie's sudden desperation for you.
She tilts her head, peppering kisses down your chin and along your jaw. They're harsh and hungry, nipping your skin in some places purely to see your brow furrow at the feel of her teeth.
As she trails down to your neck, you tip your head back against the wall and open your eyes to blink up at the wooden ceiling. Your hands fist Ellie's hair as she leaves bruises down the column of your throat.
Still well and drunk, the room swirls around you. The lights seem to shift with each blink, making this all so much more intoxicating. Your nerves are already on edge due to the alcohol, so the feel of Ellie kissing them is absolutely maddening.
You feel as she presses kisses along your collarbone, tongue grazing the taut skin there. You shift, legs pressing together as she grows more sensual in her act of quick intimacy. This movement doesn't go unnoticed by her, however, her lips quirking into a small smile against your skin as she feels rather proud of how quick she's turned you to putty under her.
She moves across the bare skin of your chest, plump lips taking time to memorize each detail that adorns you. You move again, the heat between your legs growing harder to ignore.
"Patience, darlin'." She instructs. "I'll get there when I get there."
You frown at this, "well get there faster."
Her kisses suddenly cease, looking up at you through her lashes. She tilts her head at you innocently, blinking as she waits for you to correct yourself. To reword your restive demand. "Don't be rude, now."
You can feel your dignity push at the back of your throat, pride yearning for a moment to speak. Seeing as you're normally the one making orders, this feels quite stranger. But, after the long journey you've taken, you suppose you've earned a bit of time to sit back and let someone else take the lead.
Ellie draws a line of kisses between your breasts and down your stomach, kneeling before you as her head comes to situate itself in front of your waistband. You can't help but admire how she looks from here, hair in your hands as her eyes are pinned to your denim jeans as though it's a buffet and she's a man starved. After a moment, she lifts her head to look at you.
Eye contact. Sparks shoot through your body. Somehow, something as simplistic as meeting Ellie's gaze can make you feel indescribably nervous. Pale green irises bore into you, waiting for you to utter words of consent. You do so, giving her the go-ahead.
As soon as you do, Ellie wastes no time hooking her fingers through your belt loops and pulling your jeans to your knees. She leans forward, eyes lidded.
"Wait." You pant, tugging on her hair to halt her movements. She seems rather annoyed by your sudden interruption, but looks up at you kindly despite her own irritation. You rolls your eyes at her evident pique. "What if someone walks in?"
She sighs heavily at that. "I locked the door."
"Oh, okay." You nod. Though, just as she's about to lean forward again, you stop her once more. "Wait. How did you know to lock it? You were all pissy when you first came in here."
"I didn't know." She explains hastily. "I simply hoped."
You huff out a chuckle, shaking your head fondly at her admittance. Then, finally, you don't stop her when she leans forward.
She traces her tongue along the outside of your underwear, the fabric between you only adding to the pulsing in your pussy. A shiver wracks through you, causing Ellie to grab you by the hips to hold you still. She traces circles into your hips with her thumbs, a gentle motion when compared to the needy movements of her tongue as she draws small circles into your clit.
You tighten your grip on her hair, drawing a grunt from the back of her throat. The vibrations from her mouth against your pussy makes it hard to keep back your own noises.
When she finally shifts your panties to the side, you nearly collapse at the feel of her mouth against you. She licks a long stripe up your vulva, a shaky breath yanking from you. The sound only urges her further, taking one hand and drags her middle finger up your center. You shift, leaning heavily against the wooden walls as standing upright suddenly seems impossible. Then, without warning, two fingers shove right into your hole.
Your hips jolt, moving far more than initially seeing as Ellie is now only holding on with one hand. Whilst thrusting her fingers in and out of your needy pussy, her tongue circles your clit with that same neediness, mirroring you for desperation.
Your head falls back, thudding lightly against then wall. At the sound, Ellie ceases. You almost whine at her sudden stopping.
"My eyes are down here, darlin'." She says lowly. "Let me see you."
Begrudgingly, you oblige, lowering your head to make eye contact with Ellie. She's on her knees, legs folded against tiled flooring as she resumes her lapping. You huff out an airy moan as you have to actively stop yourself from tipping your head back again. She holds your gaze the entire time, adding to the intensity of the feel. Her eyes are lidded, shoulder moving as her fingers recommence.
This all paired with your dizzy head and swimming vision makes for quite the climax, core knotting progressively as Ellie doesn't dare to stop. "Fuck," you pant as you buck your hips against her face, forced to watch as you do so. With another heavy breath and an arching back, you utter, "I'm⎯"
She seems exponentially proud as she hears you say this, regardless of if you finish your sentence or not. She pauses only for a moment to say, "yeah?"
"Mhm," you hum, though it comes out more of a moan than anything.
"Do it, darlin'."
And you do, coming undone right atop her face. She, admittedly, relishes in it, hydrated only by what you're able to provide her with. You see stars and they're swimming too, circling your head in a celestial body of pleasure. And Ellie watches, for once allowing your head to fall back as she deems this a one time exception. Because there will be a next time.
You're panting as you lower your head to face her once more, her gaze never having left your expression. She makes out with your pussy sensually as to bring you down from your high. Then, as gently as she can, she situates your panties back on correctly and pulls your jeans to rest as your hips, remaining knelt in front of you as she zips and buttons them just as she'd found them.
You watch with a twinkle of fondness behind your irises, unable to look away from the expression of adoring concentration she wears. She then uses your hips as a support system to haul herself back to her feet, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips. You can nigh taste yourself on her.
"Not bad for a stranger at a sketchy bar." You muse, picking her hat from the floor and situating it atop her auburn tufts of hair. She watches you, analyzing your every move.
"I'm not just a stranger." She reminds you as your eyes find hers, your hands coming to drape around her shoulders. "I'm a stranger who wrote a song about you."
"Mm," you hum, "so you're a stalkers stranger?"
"I prefer the term passionate." She says, shooting you a playful scowl.
You chuckle, "passionate for what? Stalking and preying on drunken women?"
"Pfft-" She scoffs. "You're not drunk."
For a moment, you consider agreeing with her. To save her the pain of realizing you hadn't been sober for this. But you know better than to lie to her. So, through lidded eyes ⎯ ones that should have been a rather telltale sign of your intoxication ⎯ you give her a look, not even needing to voice the truth aloud for her to understand.
"Well fuck." She groans, taking a step backward and causing your arms to fall to your sides.
Frankly, you'd expected her to be much more angered than that. Because you know you would be. After writing a song, chasing down, then tongue-fucking someone in the bathroom, the worst news to receive would be that they'd been wasted the entire time.
"I'm sorry," you're quick to apologize, for some reason feeling the need to earn her forgiveness.
"How're you planning to get home?" She asks.
"I hadn't thought about that." You admit.
"How about this," she suggests, "I give you a place to stay to apologize for fucking you while drunk and you let me take you to dinner tomorrow to apologize for not telling me beforehand. Deal?"
A smirk works its way to your mouth, "deal."
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#vxsellie !#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#ellie willams x reader#ellie williams#ellie williams x female reader#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader#ellie x you#smut#ellie smut#one shot#female reader#x reader#wlw smut#lesbian#sapphic#wlw#cowgirl!ellie#country girl#rodeo#bull riding#singer!ellie#yeah ok
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Cowboys
Ellie x Reader
Ch. 1, Ch. 2
Summary: things go right then wrong then right then wrong then right
Wc: 6.4 k
For the ao3 girlies
Cw: cowboy! Ellie x fem! reader, drinking, reader gets drunk, Jesse (again), lesbian touching and yearning, kissin', little fight, cleaning wounds (yea again shh), smut!, inexperienced reader (not innocent tho), oral (r! receiving), fingering (r! and e! receiving), switch! reader and Ellie, and as always no use of y/n
Minors DNI (fr)
a/n: This is months in the making. Thank you for your patience, those of you who kept supporting me through all this time even with my lack of activity I'm giving you a virtual forehead kiss. I really hope you enjoy it, I started to really love these characters, I like making them happy. I highly recommend reading the past chapters, but if you want to jump in I won't discourage you!
before you read! DAILY CLICK
★・・・・・・★
You drunkenly fumble with the buttons of your bodice, biting your lip with intense concentration in an attempt to complete the simple task. Your fine motor skills have reduced to that of a toddler. Thank god tomorrow is Saturday.
The front door creaks open just as you manage to get to the halfway point. You look up at Ellie as she walks in, she removes her hat and places it gently on the wooden table. She looks down at the floor as she unties the bandanna from her face. When she looks back up you can finally see her sun-kissed cheeks and perfect lips. You missed looking at her. She’s staring right at you with those emerald green eyes, and you stare back, hands frozen on one of the stubborn buttons keeping you from falling into your soft bed.
You hastily look back down before she can say anything and focus on removing enough clothes so that you can sleep comfortably. You don’t notice her approaching you until you see her boots step into your line of vision. You look up and you suppress a gasp of surprise when you register how close she was. She smells slightly of cigars and pine; it’s intoxicating. Her breathing is a little faster than normal, barely noticeable, but you tend to notice every little thing about her. There’s a nervous look in her eyes, illuminated by the moonlight pouring through the windows.
“Need some help?” Your eyes widen a bit in disbelief, you didn’t think she would touch you again after you made her feel your scar. You thought the feeling of her fingertips drifting up and down your skin would simply be something you dreamed about happening again.
“Just gimme a minute, I can do it.” And you focus on your dress once more. As much as you wanted to feel her warm hands against your skin again, part of you felt like you were forcing her into it. Some tiny piece of you was convinced there was something wrong with you for feeling like this. For wanting her to touch you in ways you had been told your whole life should only ever want from a man.
Her hands gently grab yours and lower them to your sides. She wordlessly begins to unfasten your bodice. She takes her time, you watch her slender fingers work at the buttons one by one. You could feel the heat of her hands through the thin fabric of your chemise. She moves achingly slow like she was afraid you were made of porcelain. Your breathing grows heavier and heavier matching Ellie's as you watch her careful maneuvers. She was so close that her warm presence became magnetic in the cold desert night. You subconsciously lean towards her little by little getting so close that if either of you flinched your skin would meet with the other’s.
Finally, she got your dress undone. You both stand perfectly still, knowing once you leave this moment everything will be different.
Maybe you didn’t have to.
You look up at her, she feels you staring, her eyes meet yours. You slowly move one of your hands to cup her jaw, encouraging her to look directly at you. Her gaze flicks from your lips back up to your eyes. You lean into her, pressing your forehead against hers. Your lips are so dangerously close. She looks almost scared.
“Y-you don’t wanna do this darling.” she’s practically out of breath, as if she’d just run 10 miles. You could feel her soft lips move against yours.
“I think I do,” you reply. And with that, your lips meet hers.
This was it; the feeling you had been searching for your entire life, and it felt so much better than you could have ever imagined. You feel her hands cup your face and her featherlight touch gives you butterflies. She had always been so careful with you. You never knew you were missing that gentleness until you felt the way she would hold you, the way her fingers would glide across your skin with such caution. She never touched you without wanting, without purpose. Until these couple days spent with her, you didn’t know that someone could care for you like that.
You could swear you felt her everywhere. She deepens the kiss a bit, getting hungrier. She laces one of her hands into your hair while the other presses you impossibly closer to her by the small of your back. Your hands snake into her soft auburn hair, earning a quiet groan from the cowgirl.
Every breath that she releases you breathe back in, becoming completely immersed in her, feeling her, smelling her, seeing her, hearing her all around you. You wanted to stay like this until you knew nothing else, until you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore.
And then she pulls back, taking all of it away. She presses her forehead to yours.
“We should stop.” She says breathlessly, looking at the wooden floor.
“Why?” you ask with slight desperation in your voice.
“You don’t even know how to keep going from here or what it means if we do. I know that.” She says with defeat. “I can’t do this to you.” She looks up at you with a barely suppressed grin, “Plus you’re a little drunk.”
“But I want you to,” you almost whine, you want her so badly. She gave you a taste just to rip it away, “I promise I do.” You fiddle with the buttons of her shirt in a desperate attempt to convince her to keep going. “Besides, you don’t get to decide what’s best for me.”
“Alright, alright” she smiles a little at your stubbornness, “we can talk about this tomorrow, but for now you should get to sleep.” As much as you hate to admit it she was right, you could barely keep your eyes open.
“Ok,” you whisper. You give her a quick kiss on the cheek before you walk toward your bed. You sit on the edge and watch Ellie take off her shoes, then her belt, then her suspenders. You felt something start to flutter in your stomach as you saw her undress. She didn’t notice you staring until she was done, she looked at you, waiting for you to say something. “You wanna sleep in a bed tonight?” You ask, hoping she would at least do that if she wouldn’t keep kissing you.
Her eyebrows raise in surprise for a moment, “I’m more than ok sleeping on the fl-”
“Please?”
She must have seen the desperation in your expression because she barely hesitated before saying, “Move over.” You do as she says and she sits on the edge of the bed. She takes a moment to just look at you, her eyes moving across your body as she allows herself to see you how she’s always wanted to. “Turn around.” You’re confused but you turn onto your side, facing the wall. Then you feel her lay down behind you. She wraps an arm around your stomach and pulls your body to slot perfectly into hers. You’re sure this was the best thing you’ve ever felt- besides the kissing. You’re not sure if you could go back to how you were living before now that you know what it’s like to be held by someone so strong and so, so softly. Her warmth becomes yours and it just feels so nice.
** **
You wake up feeling a presence behind you. You almost panic until the memories of last night flood your mind. You weren’t used to the feeling of someone wrapped around you. You’re not sure you would ever get used to that feeling.
Her chest rises up and down against your back and you can feel her breath on the back of your neck. Very slowly you try to turn around to face her, trying your best not to wake her up. The bed frame was squeaky, but thankfully the only sound you made was the rustling of sheets against your skin as you turned towards a sleeping Ellie.
The sunlight filters through the window, illuminating her delicate features. You’ve never seen sunlight compliment someone so well. Her long eyelashes rest against her cheeks, and you notice they match her hair, a little red tint exposed by the unfiltered sunshine. You haven’t seen her this relaxed before, it almost felt too vulnerable, too intimate.
You lightly touch a strand of her soft hair to ensure you’re not dreaming. You tuck it gently behind her ear and she stirs a bit. You freeze, feeling caught. Her eyes slowly blink open, a lazy smile forms on her face. You can’t help smiling back at her.
“Mornin,” her voice is heavy with sleep and the sound of it makes your heart skip a beat.
“Good mornin’, how’d you sleep?”
“Reeallyy good.” she sounds like she’s still half asleep with how her words lazily flow from her lips. Her eyes haven’t left yours.
“Good.” You can’t help the smile that seems to form on your face everytime she looks at you. before you can blink she’s sat up and looking down at you and your lips. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Can I kiss you again?” You can’t help but blush and let out a nervous giggle, “Please?” You nod and without missing a beat she leans down and presses her lips to yours. So soft and gentle, she takes a deep breath through her nose like she’s relieving a desperate craving. She cups your jaw and furthers the kiss, you sigh and melt into her. You swear you were made for her.
She moves so she’s straddling your hips. One hand slowly travels down your body, while the other laces into your hair. Her fingertips graze down your neck, over your breasts, down your stomach, sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine.
“Was dreamin about you.” She whispers. Her hand sneaks under your dress, she makes her way up your leg ever so slowly so you can feel the way her skin moves against yours. You sharply inhale through your nose when you feel her fingertips graze the hem of your underwear and she takes it as a sign to tease a little further.
“Was it a good dream?” You manage to squeak out as she lightly grazes her palm over your clothed center. She continues up your body and lightly grasps your bare waist with her warm hand. And before you could blink she was back to kissing you hard, like she was starving for it.
“Mhm realllyy good.” Her voice is still gravelly from sleep.
She breaks the kiss and just looks at you for a moment. She had this expression on her face you’d never seen before, seemed like a mix of admiration and hesitation. She tucks a stray piece of your hair behind your ear and sighs before her eyes wander from yours. Her hand retracts from under your nightgown, she pulls it down making sure it’s back in its place. The absence of her hands was so jarring.
You couldn’t help the “what-” that slipped from your lips at the loss of her intoxicating touch.
“I have someplace to be.” She smiles gently before kissing your forehead and rolling out of bed.
“Will you tell me where? Where have you even been disappearing to?”
“I’m looking for someone.” She says simply as she begins to put her clothes back on.
“Who?” A bit of frustration comes through in your tone, tired of her mysterious behavior.
“You- uh- you remember what I said about Joel last night?” She clips on her suspenders.
“Yes, you said he was your friend.” You sit up in bed.
“Well, someone killed ‘em,” She sits down and begins harshly putting on her boots, “and I know if it happened to me he would hunt the person down and make sure they paid for their crimes, so-”
“You want to find his murderer and murder them?”
“Well, I’ll make her pay for what she did in a way that I see fit, so yes.” Her voice becomes tight with frustration at your questioning.
“Who do you think is gonna come after you for murdering her, Ellie? This isn’t going to help anything-”
“How the fuck would you know that?” She looks up from her half-laced-up boots, her voice is laced with venom.
You’re too stunned at her tone to respond, you’d never heard her like this. She’s so blinded by guilt and anger that no one could stop her; that much you could tell. You just watch as she finishes tying up her shoes and leaves, grabbing her hat on her way out.
An unwelcome silence falls over your small house for the first time in a while.
** **
Maybe she won’t come back.
You’ve been going back and forth between reading and staring out the window. Hoping you would see her horse appear somewhere on the desert horizon.
You decide to distract yourself by making a little batch of tea. Each step takes up your entire brain, you carefully calculate every leaf needed, and every muscle movement, making the task take as long as possible.
You move out to your front porch with your book and a cup of tea and settle in the rickety rocking chair facing the desert landscape. The sun begins to settle in the sky and as it sinks lower, you get angrier. You put your book down and storm inside, making a beeline to your precious bottle of moonshine. You crack it open and fill the teacup to the brim with the foul liquid.
You settle back down on the porch and sip the bitter drink until the sunlight disappears and the words in your book begin to become a little blurry. You trudge inside and settle at the dining room table, wondering what to do to occupy your time. Maybe you were too drunk to make a fire, but it’s worth a shot. You begin piling wood and twigs in your small fireplace, your movements are clunky but eventually, you get a flame going. You giggle in celebration.
A knock rudely interrupts your accomplishments. You don’t even care who it is anymore, you’re just annoyed you have to get up from the floor. You groan as you move your body to stand up. You manage to walk to the door and open it up.
It’s Jesse. The alcohol hits you all at once now that you’re standing and you have to lean against the door to keep yourself upright.
You blurt out a confused, “Hi,”
“Hi… I thought you had your “bodyguard” staying with you.” Damn, he remembered.
“Yeah sh- he- he uh left.” Jesse just looks at you, confused by your drunken behavior. “What are you doing here?”
“Is he coming back? I- uh just wanted to check on you after last night, make sure you got home ok.”
“Okay, well thank you but I’m fine… a lil’ drunk that’s all. And I don’t know if he’ll come back. Not the best communicator.” You don’t move to let him in, frankly, you don’t want the company right now.
“I can’t leave you here drunk and alone in good conscience.” He says with feigned concern. He steps closer to you, closer to the doorway.
“Oh, I’ve lived out here alone for a while now I think I’m ok-”
“At least let me stay until your bodyguard comes back.” He’s officially invading your space with his eagerness, you suppose no isn’t an answer he will accept right now.
“Um, alright then.” You hesitantly turn your body to make room for him in the doorway. He walks right through and makes himself comfortable at your small dining room table. You did not like the space he took up in this house. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“What do you have?”
“I’m afraid I’m limited to moonshine at the moment.”
“Moonshine is fine.” He nods. “You make it yourself?” The last thing you desired right now was small talk. You prayed Ellie would come back at this point simply to get him to leave. She sleeps on the floor whereas he might force himself into your bed.
“Yes, it passes the time. And does the job better than any whiskey I’ve had.” You turn around, grab a glass from the small cabinet in your kitchen, and fill it a fourth of the way up. This man was a waste of moonshine.
“Who taught ya how to make it?”
“My daddy taught me the recipe before I got married.. before he died.” You almost successfully hide the wavering in your voice at the mention of your father.
“Oh, sorry for bringin’ it up, sweetheart..” You turn around and see him looking down at his hands in his lap in embarrassment.
“It’s alright,” you fake a smile, “I don’t mind talking about him.” And you really didn’t, you just did not want to talk to Jesse about him. You set the moonshine in front of him and he takes a swig. His face screws up a bit at the flavor but he smiles at you and invites you to sit down across from him.
** **
Jesse’s told about 10 different boring stories about his travels, getting drunker as you sober up. You poured him a couple of glasses of moonshine hoping he would get tired and leave, but he seems to get more and more settled in his chair as time goes on. His mannerisms get more and more outlandish as the minutes pass.
In the middle of his sentence, your front door bursts open. Moonlight floods into the small house and a familiar silhouette stands in the doorway. Ellie’s eyes meet yours for a split second before she rushes to stand behind your chair. The cowgirl possessively places her hands on your shoulders. She glances at you and greets you with a gentle “Hello darlin’” before she looks down at Jesse with narrowed eyes, “I think it’s time for you to leave.” She says in her deep “male” voice. It takes every fiber of your being not to smile in relief.
Jesse’s eyes widen as if he’s been caught. He stands up abruptly “Yes, sir.” He replies in a meek voice, “Goodnight ma’am.” he tips his hat bidding you farewell. One day you’ll have to ask her what she said to Jesse that made him so terrified of her.
“Goodnight, Jesse.” You keep your voice sickly sweet until he swiftly makes his exit, closing the door behind him a little too hard.
You both silently watch him clumsily climb atop his horse and begin to ride away. He can barely hold himself up, but he’ll survive. You look at Ellie as her narrowed eyes observe the man-child riding his horse back to town, barely able to hold himself up. Her face had a few scratches and new bruises. A thin layer of dust coated her whole body. Her shirt has specks of blood covering it and you aren’t sure if it’s hers.
Your hand reaches for her cheek, your palm meeting with the scratchy fabric of the bandana still on her face. You gently turn her to face you and her whole body relaxes at the sight of you. You take your other hand and reach behind her head, loosening the knot of fabric at the base of her skull. You allow the bandana to fall slowly and you realize how sunken and bloodshot her eyes are, her lip is slightly busted, and a small gash lines her freckled cheek, and yet she’s looking at you like a cold glass of water on a hot summer’s day.
You cup her cheek and rub your thumb along her soft skin. She leans her head into your palm, surrendering to you.
She whispers a meek, “I’m sorry, darlin’” as she places a gloved hand over yours. She won’t meet your eyes. You can hear her exhaustion through her voice. God knows what she’s been through today.
All you can do is smile sadly and say, “Let’s get you cleaned up.” You pull your hand away, even though everything in you is protesting against it. You walk over to the small tub you keep by the stove and dip a cloth into the cool water. The feeling of the cold liquid dripping down your arms grounded you. You take a breath as you wring out the excess. Turning around you see Ellie sitting in one of your wooden chairs, hunched over in exhaustion. She takes off her boots and then places her hat and gloves on the table and turns to look at you. You can’t read her expression and you’re not sure you want to. You tentatively walk toward her and pull up a chair across from her. You sit down so close to her that her knee rests between your thighs. You lean forward and begin carefully wiping away the grime from her skin.
“Feel like you’re always takin’ care of me.” She says softly, slightly wincing when you start cleaning up the gash on her cheek.
“You’re always givin’ me a reason to take care of you.” You won’t tell her that you didn’t mind being the person she came to to wipe her face clean, the person she trusted to tend to her wounds- big or small.
“Yeah, but then who takes care of you?”
“I suppose I just never needed it.” You move the washcloth gently across her forehead.
“Would you ever let me?” Her voice is almost inaudible.
“Let you what?” You pause your movements.
“Let me take care of you.” She gently lowers your hand from her face, her eyes unrelentingly staring into yours. She forces you to realize how close she is to you, her face is mere inches from yours.
“But,” She leans even closer to you, her chapped lips brushing yours, causing you to have to catch your breath, “I don’t need it.” Her breath grows heavier, smelling of whiskey and a hint of something sweet.
“I think you do.” You can feel her lips move against yours as she speaks. You linger there for a moment, waiting for her to give in. Her hands thread into your hair, and she pulls you into a desperate kiss. You put your hands on her chest to steady yourself at the impact. Her warm tongue makes its way into your mouth and you let out a little whine at the feeling. The sound seems to motivate her further, she reaches for your bodice and begins fumbling with the buttons, slowly undoing them. You use one hand to unlatch your overskirt as the other remains on Ellie’s chest. As you both stand your clothing practically melts off of you. Ellie encourages your bodice off your shoulders and onto the floor, doing the same with your skirt, leaving you in your thin chemise.
As she inelegantly leads you to the bed you begin undoing her stained button-down. You run your fingers under her suspenders and pull them off her shoulders earning a hungry groan from Ellie. The back of her legs hit the edge of your bed and she sits down. You look down at the disheveled cowgirl and feel something flutter in your stomach at the sight of her. She’s looking up at you like a starved woman, her eyes are dark, her mouth hangs slightly open breathing heavily. You mindlessly bring your thumb to her lips, tracing the plush skin. Her expression grows hungry at your small touch.
Ellie’s hands grip your waist encouraging you to straddle her lap. You grab her shoulders for stability and kneel on the small bed, settling yourself on her thighs. She gives you a quick peck on the lips before dragging her own gently down the side of your neck.
“You know,” she takes the soft skin into her mouth evoking a gasp from your lips, “I wasn’t gonna ask,” She kisses her way across your collarbone and she’s so gentle until she begins sucking your skin into her mouth, sending a surprisingly pleasurable feeling through your body. She’s ensuring there would be remnants of her left on you- even after this. “But what was he doing here?”
You snap out of the trance her soft lips inflicted on you at the mention of Jesse. “I-I don’t know,” She won’t stop kissing you, moving the neck of your chemise down to gain more access. Your brain is almost too scrambled to form a response. “He-” She reaches a hand under your nightgown, moving her palm up your thigh slowly. “He said he wanted to check on me.” You take a much-needed breath, trying to get your heart to stop beating out of your chest.
“Mm,” she murmurs, sounding doubtful. “Sounds like he wanted to catch you alone.” She moves her hand up higher, brushing against your underwear, your hands clutch at the fabric of Ellie’s button down, a futile attempt to ground yourself.
“Maybe,” you manage to squeak out.
“Looks like I was the one who ended up catching you alone.” She smirks.
“Good,” you breathe out.
Every little thing she does earns a reaction from you. She smirks at you, enjoying your struggle, “You’re pretty sensitive huh darling?”
“Sounds like more of an observation than a question.” You were like putty in her hands.
She lets out a short laugh, “You can still talk back though, huh?” She smoothes her hand up your stomach, stopping just under your breasts- she was hesitating.
But you didn’t want her to stop, you couldn’t take her walking away again. “And?” You place your hand on top of hers and guide it over the plush skin of your breasts. “What are you gonna do about it?”
“Oh darling,” She moves her fingers gingerly over your nipples, shooting an electric feeling right between your legs. “You have no idea what you're askin’ for.” She grabs both of your thighs and swiftly moves to stand up with you in her grasp. You let out a surprised squeak at her movements. She spins around so your back is to the bed and gently lays you down. The Cowgirl crawls on top of you and slowly drags your chemise upwards. She takes in every newly exposed inch like you were a detailed work of art, taking note of every freckle and birthmark. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” You’ve never been this exposed to anyone before. Instinctually you start to move your hands to cover yourself up but she catches them. “Don’t.” She protests with a gentle sternness. She bunches the fabric up on your collarbone, keeping you bare for her.
She moves impossibly closer, slotting her knee between your legs. She inches it up higher, higher, and then- oh. The pressure was perfect, it relieved the ache between your legs just enough to keep you wanting more. She places gentle teasing kisses between your breasts. You could lay here just savoring the feeling of her lips on your skin for the rest of your life. As if on queue her lips pull away for a moment but then you feel her warm tongue tentatively lick your nipple. She teases around it in circles before taking it into her mouth.
“Oh god,” You gasp as you lace your fingers into her auburn hair. She lets out a beautiful little whine when you lightly pull. Now you understand why she likes your whines and whimpers. You would do anything to get her to make that noise again, it made your stomach flutter in a way that felt so good. You begin mindlessly moving against her knee as the ache between your legs grows stronger. She moves to your other nipple, teasing it before entrapping the sensitive bud into her mouth. She uses her free hand to pinch and tease the opposite one. Your back arches towards her, your body silently begging for just a little bit more.
And Ellie obliges. She trails her free hand down your stomach and traces a finger lightly under the hem of your underwear, your stomach jumps at the feeling. Her slender fingers tease you over the thin fabric of your underwear. You quietly moan as she finds the sensitive bundle of nerves desperately craving her attention. She adds just a little more pressure and you tilt your head back as you take a deep breath. All of these new feelings are almost overwhelming- almost. It was the type of overwhelming where you wanted to see how much you could take, see how far the feeling could go.
You begin to urge Ellie’s shirt off her shoulders exposing her bandaged chest as she continues her pleasurable assault of your nipples. You wanted to be able to see her too. You wanted to memorize the placement of every individual freckle on her body, you wanted to be able to draw her from memory, to know every part of her so well you could know her by touch alone.
You reach for her belt buckle, blindly attempting to unclasp the metal as she overwhelms your senses. You throw the belt somewhere in the room, the sound of it falling to the floor is drowned out by the mix of your whimpers and Ellie’s labored breathing. You’re about to attempt to unbutton her pants when she halts her movements, “I can’t fucking take this anymore,” she quietly groans to herself.
“What-” You can’t even comprehend her statement- until she makes her way down your body, dragging her nose down your abdomen, leaving a little kiss above your belly button. She leisurely pulls your underwear down your legs, exposing you completely. Before you can attempt to try and close your legs Ellie settles in between them, wrapping her arms around your thighs like it was second nature. She uses her grip to lift your thighs, forcing you to bend your knees, opening you up further for her. You watch as she litters kisses all over your inner thighs, occasionally marking the silken skin.
“So perfect for me,” She runs her fingers through your drenched folds, your breath hitching at the foreign feeling. She teases her digits around your entrance before moving back upwards and circling around your sensitive bud. Your hands grasp at the sheets like a lifeline, not knowing how to react to this feeling. It felt so, so good. Almost too much but not enough at the same time.
“Feel ok, baby?” She asks, seeming a little concerned at your almost panicky breaths.
“Feels-” she doesn’t stop her movements to allow you to respond, you have to gather your wits to form a sentence. “-feels really, really good.” you say breathily. She seems to enjoy challenging you, she likes watching you stutter as she debilitates you with her expert hands.
“Wanna feel even better?” She challenges with a tinge of mischief in her voice.
“How?” You barely form the question before Ellie traces her tongue up your slit. Your surprised gasp melts into a moan. Her warm tongue caresses where you crave her most, gradually picking up speed as you get accustomed to the feeling. She proceeds downward circling her tongue around your tight entrance, sliding it in and out of you at a steady pace. You mindlessly moan and buck your hips towards her, needing her deeper.
You’re sure she can read your mind at this point because she pauses her movements and crawls back on top of you. She kisses you sloppily before encouraging your lips open with her ring and middle finger. “Get them nice and wet for me darlin’.” Your inner walls clench around nothing at her words. You swirl your tongue around her digits until she smoothly removes them from your mouth.
She sinks back down between your legs and resumes her movements. She circles your dripping entrance with one finger and slides it into you at a painfully slow rate, opening you up for her a millimeter at a time. The pleasurable pressure in your abdomen begins a steady climb upwards. You cry out as Ellie curls her finger to hit the perfect spot. Her tongue and her fingers are turning your brain and body into jelly.
“That’s it, you’re doing so well for me baby,” she praises. You are completely at her mercy as she sucks your clit into her mouth. Your hand swiftly reaches for her auburn locks, tugging on her hair the way you did before and she whimpers into your cunt, sending vibrations through your lower body.
Just as you think you are at the height of the pleasure you could ever possibly feel she adds another finger inside of you, sinking her digits deep into your cunt. Pressure builds in your abdomen as she curls her fingers right into that spot that makes stars cloud your vision. The feeling in your stomach grows to an overwhelming peak.
“You almost there darlin’?” She asks as she continues pumping her fingers in and out of you at a steady pace.
“I-,” She somehow moves her fingers faster, purposefully interrupting you. You knew because she couldn’t even hide her smirk when she did it. “I th-think so,” you mutter, not even really knowing what she means. What you did know is the feeling was getting tighter and tighter and something in you told you that when you finally released it, it would feel like heaven.
Your moans grow louder as you lose control of your body. Ellie continues pleasuring you as the feeling finally peaks, “Come on baby let go for me,” And you do. Waves of pure ecstasy crash over you, your hips buck against her over and over uncontrollably as the sensation washes over your whole body. Strings of obscenities and Ellie’s name escape from your swollen lips as you ride out the high.
She doesn’t stop until you're whining from sensitivity, weakly trying to pull her away from your aching center. You stare at the wooden ceiling while trying to catch your breath, processing whatever just happened to your body. You can feel Ellie sit up between your legs before she leans on top of you, placing her hands on either side of you so she doesn’t crush you.
And of course she’s smiling.
“You ok?” She asks as she cups your cheek.
“Mhm, very ok,” you’re almost slurring your words. You nuzzle into her hand, wanting to be closer to her. She gently pinches your chin between her thumb and index finger, urging you slightly upwards so her lips could catch yours. You give in to her like second nature, tasting yourself on her lips.
Your body is so tired and heavy- but you’re not done yet.
“You want a turn, cowgirl?” You’re only half teasing.
“Um, no you don’t have to- I don’t need-” She’s blushing, if you didn’t know better you’d say she was flustered.
“What if I want to?”
“Uh, then yes I suppose we could try something.”
“So shy all of the sudden, baby,” you sit up- slightly startling Ellie, but she follows your movements, “You sure you’re ok with this- we don’t have to do anything I just-”
“No,” she interjects, “no I want you to.”
“Good,” you smile, cupping her cheek before pulling her in for a kiss. You do as she did earlier and trail down the side of her neck, letting your hand wander downwards to trace mindless shapes along her abdominal muscles. You pick a spot and suck the skin into your mouth, her breath hitches at the feeling. Ellie shifts so she’s straddling your thigh, you feel her softly grinding against it and the feeling gives you butterflies.
“I’m guessing we’re not getting this off tonight,” you graze your hands over her bound chest, watching it rise up in reaction to your touch.
“N-no, that would take too long, I need you now,” she grinds against you a bit harder, silently urging you to continue. She nuzzles her face into your neck and whimpers a desperate, “Please,” against you. One day you would get that thing off of her, be able to enjoy her fully, but you wouldn’t make her wait any longer.
“Just show me what to do, Ellie.”
She wordlessly responds by unbuttoning her pants and then placing a hand on top of yours, steadily guiding it down her abdomen and underneath the hem of her pants. Your fingers drift past her warm pelvis and slide into her dripping folds. You hold in a gasp at the state of her, she must have been aching for this for so long. “Poor baby,” you mock pout as you look at her, eyes squished shut at the feeling of your fingers finally where she needed them. “You wanted this so bad, didn't you pretty girl?” She can’t even respond, just moves faster against your hand, her whimpers growing louder. You decide to try to give her more, you move your fingers towards her entrance. They slide into her with a surprising ease and she gasps as your digits slide deeper. She continues moving her own fingers in circles around her sensitive bud as you begin to curl your fingers towards yourself as she did to you.
You watch her thoughtlessly rock back and forth against your fingers, her hair messily framing her flushed face, she looks beautiful. Now she was finally a mess for you, the feeling was addicting.
You place a hand on her abs, tracing your fingers along the muscles feeling them flex and relax at your touch. She begins moving a bit faster. She whispers a mixture of fuck and your name in a whiny desperate voice that has you dripping down your thighs all over again.
“Do-don’t stop,” She mewls, her head tilted back, eyes squeezed shut, completely lost in pleasure. You feel her walls start to clench around our fingers, she softly moans at every thrust of your digits into her. Suddenly she contracts hard around you, “oh fuck,” she moans. She thrusts hard against your fingers as she reaches her high, you watch her face as she experiences the same ecstasy you just had, you almost came again at the very sight of her.
You don’t stop until she slows down, practically collapsing onto you. “You are so perfect,” she whispers into your neck.
You smile, “I know,” you softly comb your fingers through her hair, taming the kinks you created just moments earlier, “so are you.” You lean back, encouraging her to follow. Her head rests on your chest and you run your fingers through her auburn locks until her breathing becomes slow and steady. You count her breaths until your eyes grow too heavy to keep open.
★・・・・・・★
Tags:
@elliewilliamgfooc @bready101 @sakiigami@wishbones999 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @ellabssweetheart @lily-fics-11 @shiimer @spring-sparr0w @doeyedbambi @darlingoutlaw @4ntifanyx @tokiioryuii @hater1sthuman2nd @elliewilliamsblunt
I appreciate you all, it's been a rough couple of months lol. Just had some time on my hands because I got my wisdom teeth removed- gross. I'm sorry if this was bad I promise I tried my best to make up for how long this took and what better way to make up for it than some smut ?😈 <3
#ellie williams#the last of us 2#ellie tlou#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x reader#ellie x reader#ellie smut#ellie tlou2#cowboy!ellie#cowgirl! Ellie#cowgirl#western! au#wild west#cowgirl reader#wlw ns/fw#wlw yearning#sapphic#wlw
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cowboy!ellie finding herself under you after a horse riding lesson — only for you to make her beg.
bruising your hips with her fingertips as she guides your movements. the light pressure of her touch digging into your skin, her lips never leaving yours. it felt much more than just the usual, this one was just more passionate. desperate. like she craved you, almost like she needed you.
she needed to feel your soft lips on hers, your tongue slipping between every few kisses when it got intense enough. your hands slipping up her shirt, feeling up on anything you could while hers did the same, but down the tight waistband of your jeans. "please," she would beg; something she rarely ever did and not ever once to someone she would consider forgettable. but, you were far from that. she knew it and you definitely did too.
"what do you want, ellie?" your voice soft but loud enough for her to hear, "need you to tell me." she could barely conjure out a plead and you're asking her to use her words? god, you were good at this game. “let me hear you beg for it.”
as your lips traced the structure of her jaw, she could only look down at you with doe eyes, her grip still firm on your hips. "want you to touch me," she barely was able to whisper out, the weight of desperation feeling a lot heavier now that you were listening, "wanna feel you."
the grin spread across your lips only widened listening to her finally give in, your hands beneath her flannel stopping at her waist. "yeah, baby? tell me more.." you couldn't help but push her further, moving your lips back onto hers. your fingers pinched at her delicate skin, tracing circles along her breasts. “keep going, don’t let me stop you.”
#is this *loosely* inspired by..#well yes!#my own personal cowgirl#🤠#cowboy!ellie#ellie williams#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x y/n#ellie x reader#ellie x you#ellie x y/n
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“I wish I knew how to quit you.”
Ellie Williams x Brokeback Mountain Mood Board
#sweetercalypso’s 1.5k movie night#ellie williams#mood board#the last of us#ellie williams moodboard#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#the last of us mood board#the last of us x reader#tlou#tlou x reader#brokeback mountain#cowgirl!ellie#cowboy!ellie
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georgia canned peaches — ⋆。°✩ 🐎 cowboy! ellie
pairing: cowboy! hitwoman! ellie x black! fem! reader. wc: 5.0K
synopsis: on the run was Tennessee’s peach, who trades a life of discomfort for security with a Texan stranger
warnings: 18+, MDNI! mommy issues, slight religious trauma if you squint, heavy touching, ellie has an accent, mentions of death and loneliness, heavily inspired by Bones and All ( minus the c*nnibalism and gore), dom! ellie, domestic! ellie, heavy use of petnames (peach, sweetness, sugar, doll), stranger danger lowkk…, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, mentions of weapons, killing, black feminine coded reader, running away, taking care of injuries, injured ellie (so mention of blood, bleeding),
━━━ ♪ peach & georgia by kevin abstract
a/n: heyy everyone!! here's a quick lengthy one-shot for cowboy-ish Ellie! if you enjoy it babis my ask button is open and I'm always accepting requests if you want headcanons, etc, but enjoy!! ⊹˚. ♡⊹˚. ♡
✧˖°.
Mama didn’t raise no bitch! Or a conniving little thief either.
You tested that theory. Your hands became sticky with anything remotely flashy. Perhaps that was how you found out how to survive on your own. Times like this you wondered where you would be if your mama had just been a perfect Mary Sue. Made dinner, taught you how to wash your clothes and braid your hair, tucked you in at night, and just maybe taught you how to be better than a man. But now you were alone, in the hot Texan heat, and it felt like a smack to the face. Similar to her handprint the night she let you loose and hissed that you are on your own. You didn’t wanna cover the bills anymore or hear her bullcrap about how it was Adam and Eve — not Eve and Eve. You grew tired, and so did your feet that seemed to get you as far as you were now. Perhaps it wasn’t smart to smash your piggy bank taking the $500 dollars you spent bussing tables to go and a messenger duffle that could fit 3 heads. No plan either, which was significantly negligent, but your sticky fingers got you farther than you ever could, and they made sure you were fed.
That would explain why you were stealing in a gas station grocery. Crouched by the nonperishables stuffing anything and everything into the duffle bag. Georgia peaches, check. Canned pineapple, check. Dried beans and nuts, double-check. You weren’t exactly careful, but the place loomed with unfamiliar faces who certainly were too full of themselves to stop you. So you kept going, a first aid kit for the bruises that were forming on your knees and sewing material to fix the rip in your jacket. Well not your jacket, but your dad's jacket. Brown thick cotton over your shoulders to cover the long dress you were in, it was a smart decision. The jacket kept you warm on the desert nights, and it made home in your hands during the day. The little pockets are perfect for stuffing loads of crap you don’t need. With the crack of another can hitting the floor, it paralleled a shiny brown boot. Drenched in leather and gold detailing as it smacked the tile. Left foot – right foot – left again. Your eyes followed the trail of feet, ignoring the can that rolled away from you as a hand reached down to pick it up. A roughened, bloody, feminine freckled hand. Now the mystery girl was looming over your figure, in an authoritative stance, as if her ego had been bigger than her height itself. But she was also bleeding. Her right arm clenched to her hip as blood seeped between her fingers.
“Yers’ drop somethin’ peach?” The accent sent a shiver up your spine. It was thick and unfamiliar but maybe the word peach, at the end masked her roughness. You now made eye contact with the girl, green eyes looming into yours as you shakily took the can of peaches.
“M’sorry that was my bad,” you mumbled taking the peaches back and tucking them into your chest. You couldn’t slip it back into your bag now, next thing you know she would yell THIEF! and drag you by your collar to the front counter. But the woman was in such poor shape to do so, her freckled face wincing ever so slightly with every movement her body made. She was a cowgirl, you’ve heard all about them in the papers but didn’t take them for the real deal. Her hat told you all you need to know, brown to match her thick belt and blue bell bottoms. Oh, she was the real deal.
“Could ya be a doll n’ grab me a kit” The woman groaned out, pushing her body weight in front of you. Her standing position contrasted yours that was crouched down, at eye level with the material. “You’s a real catch ya know? Put the peaches back in. I know you were stealin’” This made you freeze. Fuck!Fuck!Fuck! Your brain shouted you were screwed.
Your hands now moved slower reaching for the kit in front of you, and you suddenly realized how overly close the woman was to you. Almost blocking your field of vision from anything to your left. You ignored her statement, as you shakily lifted the first aid kit to her hands.
“Peach…you are a delight, but now you listen,” The woman didn’t take the kit, “A camera has been pointed at ya for the past 5, and now you got Tina��� at counter watchin’ ya. You are gonna live up to bein’ delightful and pay for this one thing” The woman was scrounging in her pocket and you took the moment of silence to think to yourself, you had barely any money. $500 was something you needed to make stretch.
“What?”
“I don’ take you for a fool, I’m Ellie, and I mean no harm.” Ellie took off her hat placing it over the left side of her chest at her heart, giving you a simple nod before putting the dusted brown hat back on her head. Ellie this time put a stained $10 bill on top of the first aid kit that had been suspended in the air by your hand. This action made you stand up – eye level with this time. Noticed the girl has a height to her, her figure looming over you as you stood.
“Give me the bag [what?] your bag sweetness! we don’t got all day, dammit I’m hurt” Ellie stated bluntly. There was no more time for jokes or stealing any more Georgia canned peaches. There were better things to worry about. Like the fact that you can go to jail for stealing and Ellie who was bleeding out in front of you. You slid your brown bag off your shoulder handing it to Ellie who swung it over her left shoulder.
“Go see Tina with ‘er blonde hair, act sweet, say your visitin’ family. If they ask, say the Williams Ranch, she’ll give you no hard time” Ellie started as she was giving you instructions, “When ya finish, keep the change, meet me at my car I’ll be outside. You get your bag – I fix my wound, and you get the fuck outta town.” Ellie finished. This time her look was stern, and aggressive as if she was testing you. Testing your loyalty, your honesty, your act. She wanted to see how you worked under pressure, she wanted you to suffocate from fear. All you could do is nod, swallowing harshly, as Ellie turned her body walking down the Isle to your left.
You took the initiative to make your way to ‘Tina’. Ellie was right, the blonde had been suspicious of you. Asked you all the questions that Ellie said she would, but she backed off once you mentioned the Williams Ranch. Handing you the exact change of 0.50 cents and a hospitable smile, saying “Have a great day.” Tina’s defensiveness changed with one simple title. This made you wonder how much authority Ellie had over the place, questions flooding through your brain as you pushed the door and walked out, being met with the setting sun.
The sun was getting low, and there wouldn’t be a motel for another mile out. Sure you could do the walk but you weren’t guaranteed anything. A whistle brought you out of your trance, belonging to Ellie who this time had a toothpick between her cushioned pink lips, as her body leaned against a ran down red car, with muddied wheels. You jogged over this time seeing that your bag was missing from her shoulders rather this time in the passenger seat of her car.
“Here you go, what you asked.” You pushed the first aid kit into her hands like you’d done back in the store. Ellie mumbled a thank you, as she nibbled on the toothpick. This time, taking the kit and putting it on the hood of the car.
“Yous’ as quiet as a mouse, but orders ya take well…Peach could you help me patch up, I ensure you a place to stay and food in return – all comfort no lies…” It took you time to think about it. What did people call this…southern hospitality? She was sweet to you despite not really knowing you but the situation was still tit for tat. You do for me, I do for you. Wax on, Wax off. You weren’t gonna say no to a place to crash, where you didn’t have to worry about the faucet being broken or water barely coming out because the bill wasn’t paid. You were certain her bills were paid.
“Yes, please…uh thank you!” You exclaimed as you began to dig through the box, taking out a bottle of water from your coat pocket, also stolen using it as a hand wash and something to clean the area, temporarily where the wound is. “doncha thank me just yet, you’re just getting started, peach.”
Ellie was surprisingly still gentle with you, taking her time to crouch into the backseat of the car, while you sat next to her with the kit on the center console. Ellie took her time to untuck the white button-down shirt, as her hands shakily fiddled with the buttons. Due time, her snail speed started to irritate you making you smack her hands away doing it yourself. The exchange was silent, but you preferred it to keep the awkwardness at bay. Ellie shook off her white button down, leaving her in a white tank top — Ellie this time took the initiative to roll the tank top up to right below her boobs allowing you to wince at the large gash on her hip.
“Holy Sh—”
“I wouldn’t say that—”
“Not my first Rodeo” Ellie continued as you poured water on the wound making Ellie grit her teeth. Tilting her head back as whimpers left her mouth at the sudden coldness. All of it was hard to do when you’re in the back of a car trying to patch up a borderline dead woman. But before you could ask any questions, Ellie took the initiative to do it herself.
“W-Where you headed, whats yer’ story?” Ellie grimaced through the pain as she held her head against the headrest, pants escaping her lips at an alarming rate. “God…I’m sorry,” You hesitated, you couldn’t even answer one simple question, your hands shaking at the blood that was covering your hands as it just wasn’t slowing down.
“Jeez– I hope a lil’ blood don’t scare you peach, I woulda done it myself baby,” Ellie hissed, trying to stay moderately sweet as she was now gripping onto the door handle, her right hand finding its way to your thigh, squeezing for the endless support. That’s when you noticed her tattoo, a death’s-head hawkmoth, and vines. Beautiful, yet chaotic, she had a story. Ellie squeezed again your thigh again making you look back at her. “Eyes up here baby [sorry] where [shit] ya’ from?” You couldn’t lie, the rifle at the back of her car taunting you. If she wanted to kill you she certainly would have done it by now. She wasn’t a threat, and she proved that in the store.
“I’m from Tennessee, I’ve been traveling on foot. I’m runnin’ away” You confessed as Ellie nodded her head in response, Your accent was slight, barely noticeable making more sense in Ellie’s head at why you struck her as different. Your beautiful brown skin glowing under the setting sun, you were a beauty to her. “Figured, how old?” Ellie questioned as you continued to stay frozen, eyes on her face to continue the conversation. “21” Ellie nodded again.
“Thought so, 22” Ellie responded. There it was again, the tit for tat.
“You seem like a good girl, far away from home aren’t cha. What’s wrong with yer family? Perhaps your mama?” Ellie tilted her head watching as your face transitioned from bliss and tranquility to fear and panic. She knew she struck a nerve, your mama was the problem. She didn’t wanna pressure you, hell it didn’t matter now. You were on your own, like a scared little lamb that has been deterred from its family. Possibly you were the black sheep, different from the rest. Ellie, once again, didn’t wanna pressure you.
“You look like you need someone to take care of ya, don’t worry Peach I’ll take care of you” Ellie whispered, her voice all velvety like icing a chocolate cake. Smooth and sweet with care and caress. Ellie was unlike others you’ve met. Or any ex-lover you had. This time you weren’t afraid to let her in or take care of you. Hell you wanted that, you’ve been craving it for all years of your life while you had to do it for others. Maybe it was time someone exchanged the favor. The good karma bell rang in your ears, as a smile tugged at your lips.
“Make sure you cared for, if you let me” Ellie whispered some more, her hands this time traveling to your waist, giving a gentle squeeze, to which you could only hum in response. She was a charmer and knew all the right words to get you sunken in with her. Mama always said to not trust strangers, but why didn’t she feel like one? Her scent was intoxicating all you wanted to do was lean down and sink your pointed fangs into her shoulder, hearing her cry of satisfaction while she continued to call you Peach. Peach…Peach…Peach. You liked that name, no one called you that but considering that's what she handed you when you first spoke, it didn’t run as a surprise.
Ellie squeezed, “Words, sweetness?”
“Yes” you squeaked, which probably sounded oddly sexual now that you thought about it. Unholy thoughts plague your brain at the sight of the Texas beauty in front of you. Realizing your task still was unfinished you got back to work. Hands working fast as you took your time, threading the suture thread through the needle as it came in contact with the flesh that was Ellie’s loose and separated skin.
Ellie wincing as you dug the needle in, and back out with an exhale. It was a semi-shitty stitching job, but you were able to tightly close the wound and stop the bleeding. Ellie didn’t speak, considering she’d risk completely yelling every curse word and potentially scaring you off, she settled on biting the hem of her tank top instead. Thick black lashes coated with tears at the sudden pain and blood crust. You were gentle though, Ellie caressing your waist as you put down a gauze pad, followed by wrapping it with the gauze roll and securing it with the adhesive tape. Patting to let her know that you were finished.
“Yer’ such a good girl you know?” Ellie cooed as her hands found their way up to your braids, bringing your head down so she can give a chaste kiss to your head. Right…Right… Southern Hospitality. The feeling almost made you cry. Praise, followed up with affection? Like nothing you have felt before – hell you only thought they did that in movies. Ellie, however, was like a movie. Purley a fever dream, you were scared to fall asleep, what if you imagined the whole thing? You were enjoying your runaway escapades too much for it all to be fake.
“Let’s get the show on the road,” Ellie gave a smile, making her way out of the back, suggesting that you do the same. So much for not trusting strangers.
✧˖°.
Father, Forgive me for I have sinned… it was blurry
As we forgive our trespassers…still blurry
Trespassers…clear
You were a trespasser, is what you were getting from Ellie’s narration. Over the 30-minute car ride to her Farmhouse, Ellie explained to you the whole ordeal. Her cowboy hat was on your head as you listened to her tell narration of the cowboys' sealant for the townspeople. Why Tina, at the gas station tried to make you a friend. This Texan desert, farmland was constructed with the passage that cowboys and cowboy decedents protect the townspeople from narcs and trespassers, which in this case you could have been either. Debunked neither. It was one of those towns that people suggest you pass, hell probably inquire why it's still on the fucking map.
Ellie confessed that she was also a trespasser, just like you. Taken in by her late found father Joel who showed her how to run the rodeo. How Millers Ranch, became Williams Ranch. It was impressive, your eyes gleaming with admiration. Then it hit you, why she had the shotgun she did bounties on narcs, drug smugglers, the whole ordeal. People who came in to steal, wreak havoc, and destroy the peace. She was the town's grim reaper. She was the one who knocks. You felt faint, as the realization knocked into you like a brick. Nothing was truly sweet about her, that accent was to mask how with one click she’ll hunt like they were rabbits. You were trapped in her cage.
Upon arriving at her farmhouse which was large enough for more than one, it made you sad to see. She was alone, by herself. No wonder it was easy for her to drag you into her company, human interaction seemed obsolete out here. A dim light shown from what you assumed to be the horse stable, that was rather quiet as the nightfall had put you at ease. You held your jacket to your body tighter at the sudden gust of wind, hearing the weeds brush against each other — almost screaming in the wind. You held tightly onto your bag while Ellie limped past you, with the white button-down rested over one shoulder. Fiddling with the keys in her pocket.
“Shoes off at the door, watch your step,” Ellie spoke up as she opened the door, you were hit with the sudden aroma, it smelled like fresh wood, pine, and just a hint of freshly baked cookies. It was how you pictured going to visit your grandmothers to be. Warm and welcoming. Complying with her wishes, you took your boots off, leaving you in mix-matched socks with funky designs that you have bought out of quirkiness. Ellie found this amusing. White ones to contrast your colors, the two of you had a lot of differences. But for the lack of similarities came an understanding. A mutual grounding between the two of you. A grey area. Ellie was behind you this time, taking her hat off your head, hooking it onto the wall, your thick jacket as well, and placing it on the hook beneath it.
“Welcome, home”
Now that made your stomach curl, you didn’t know what home is, besides yourself and your belongings. Attaching your home to people, not places. It was a wave of worry and fear that hit you. Your feet stuck as it felt like someone took a hammer and nailed your feed to the wooden floors. It was lively and well-decorated for someone that lived alone. Breaking free from your sinking feet you started to observe the living space. There was art, tones of it, stumbling across a photo in the bookcase of a much younger Ellie and an older man with salt and pepper hair who you had presumed to be Joel. The name fit his face well, A small smile creeping up to your face at the closeness of the two. Ellie seemed happy – carefree now that you look at her, that happiness seemed sucked away from her life, she didn’t smile quite like that anymore. Not until you cracked jokes in her car and made her laugh.
“Ya thirsty peach?” Ellie questioned her voice coming out muffled as her figure was far away in the kitchen area, hearing as the refrigerator closed. “I’m good, thank you though.” You put the photo back where you found it, following the trail of her voice. She was very trusting for a stranger, you were already infatuated with the woman, yearning for more. Yearning for her to give you a taste or perhaps a touch. Now you were sitting on her marble countertop, placed there by Ellie as she moved quickly around the kitchen pouring herself a glass of water from the glass pitcher, drowning it all in one go. She wiped the falling water around her mouth with the back of her arm eyeing you in the process, Ellie laughed. You knew her for a short amount of time, but long enough to know that laughter from her was rare – take it as a compliment, you thought.
Ellie made her way over to you, her hands now on your knees, moving them further apart as she pushed her body in between her legs. Her arms resting on the counter space behind you, trapping you in her arms.
“Mama didn’t teach you no good...to trust strangers? Oh…Babygirl you’re dangerous” Ellie scolded, laughing as you give the girl a doe-eyed look – your hands finding a home on her arms. Wrapping your hands around her biceps, as your thumb move up, down, and in a circle.
“I figured if you were gonna kill me, you already would have done so.” You mumbled as Ellie’s face got a lot closer to yours now. You can see the freckles that decorated her cheeks, her hydrated pink lips from the water she just had, the slit in her eyebrow, and her eyes. The piercing green forest that was her eyes, but it was beautiful, reminded you of the trees that you had seen when you walked. The storm that was your life, before Ellie became your superhero, the knight in shining armor. She saved you, and you owed her big time.
“Bingo! I know you smart peach, and that’s why imma tell you once, listen t’me real good.” Ellie specified, bringing one arm up to grip your chin gently, not allowing you to look anywhere else but herself. Ellie seemed possessive, maybe she lost too many people or her lack of social interaction but she didn’t want to let you go, and you could tell. She needed you just as much as you needed her, a packaged deal.
“You don’ trust nobody that ain’t me.” Ellie began, “Someone’s overly nice to ya’ you tell me. Mean? You fuckin’ tell me. Both don’t fly with me baby, if it ain't from me” Ellie finished, letting go of your jaw to which you nodded. Ellie was a fuckin’ force to be reckoned with, It was like digging into a mystery box, you were unsure of the flavors and layers she had to herself. Hell, she could be manipulating you and you wouldn’t even notice. Hospitality for comfort or comfort for hospitality, it all looked the same.
“Ay Ay, captain!” You playfully military saluted the girl, making Ellie roll her eyes at your statement, you were exceptionally fun. Which Ellie didn’t have anymore...fun. If you classify a night at Typsy Bison as fun then so be it. “You hungry? I can run you a shower before you eat – it’s leftovers if that's alright with yourself?” Ellie questioned and that’s when it hit you, you’ve been traveling afoot all day, and the thought of even having a meal slipped your mind, but you were famished, stomach lightly growling at the mention of the word food.
“I could use food, yeah — as long as there’s no cheese.” You challenge making Ellie back away this time as she took out a glass plate, a fork, and a knife. “No cheese sugar, but something to get you settled – I always have dessert peach if you want that instead?” Now you felt like a kid in a candy store. Dessert was a rarity and boy did it sound delightful right now. Ellie smiled as she watched the way your eyes gleamed at the mention of dessert.
“Got a sweet tooth huh?” Ellie smiled, making you laugh in return. You did have a sweet tooth, anything sweet was enough to bring a smile to your face. That’s why you had a love for canned peaches. The taste reminded you of peach pie that you would get at the diner as you worked a closing shift. Sitting at a booth as you devoured a piece of peach pie, it was heated, like a warm hug in the winter. You cried every time you had a piece. It reminded you of all the good things in life – like how good your mother could be.
“I hope you have pie” you pleaded, making Ellie nod her head. “You aren’t pressin’ yer luck! I got an apple pie from a good friend of mine, I think you’ll love it – not too sweet, but fillin’” Ellie smirks in satisfaction as she placed one hand on her hip.
“Let’s run’ya a shower”
✧˖°.
How were you supposed to explain to Ellie why you were crying? Pajamas that you stored in your bag resting on your body as the matching white tank top and light blue shorts attached to your frame — you just had the best shower you’ve ever had in a while. Not only was the water hot, but it didn’t cut out every five minutes, and the faucet wasn’t leaking, everything was comfortable, perfect. Ellie herself took the time you were in the shower to clean up herself, now in different clothing — a white t-shirt and plaid pajama pants that clung to her body nicely. The two of you sitting at the dining table as Ellie watched you eat the warmed pie, a tear fell from your eye with swiftness. Ellie’s gentle gaze transitioned into confusion and eventually fear as she watched you cry.
“Oh god, wait!... I’m sorry” you laughed in between sniffles, taking the back of your hand to rub your face.
“Jeez, I thought I did somethin’ sugar” Ellie exaggerated holding her hand over her heart as if someone pierced an arrow through it. Now it was your turn to reveal your story, like how you cried every time you ate pie, specifically with peaches. It made Ellie give a small grin. Feeling as though she did something right in her life where she wasn’t playing god, It was wholesome that’s for sure. The redhead found it odd, but it was a sweet moment and she understood it. Ellie’s smile fell when she noticed the clock behind your head striking 10:30pm making her frown. The good times she was having at the moment were coming to an end, for both her and yourself.
“You go’n watch the tv til your tired, I have some business to take care of before tomorrow” Ellie didn’t wanna scare you, her business was taking the grey cloth, as she wiped down her guns and reloaded them for tomorrow. She didn’t want to give you the wrong impression.
“Can you watch it with me?” You inquired, ignoring the part where she said she had business.
“I’m cleaning guns.”
“So? You don’t scare me cowgirl” You wiggled your eyebrows as Ellie snatched the empty plate from your hands, placing it in the sink as she let the sponge soap up to wash the plate clean with hot water.
“Fine. I see you jump – I’m goin’ to another room, I don’t mix business with pleasure” Ellie confessed as she was less focused on you this time. You chose this time to leave the dining area, entering the living room as you hit the squared television's 'ON' button. It was small and run down, similar to the one at your moms before you left. You pulled at the antenna to catch a signal. The static glitching before on came Looney Tunes. You enjoyed the show finding amusement in the animals chasing each other and the crescendo of the music at all the right moments, it was comical and amusing. You spread your body out on the couch, laying on your side as you watched the television in silence, laughing every few minutes at something that you found funny. Ellie walked into the room with a black box and 3 guns in her hand. The redhead gently settled down the weaponry, being careful not to startle you, as she slipped into the seat on the far left — your legs now found a home in her lap, Ellie gently sending a rub at your legs. If someone walked right in, they would assume the two of you were probably married for some years now.
“This okay?” Ellie whispered as you mumbled a “yes” while your focus was still not on her. Ellie could see that you were getting tired, the way your eyes were low, and your breathing slowed down. You were at peace with yourself and with Ellie, this was one of the times when the silence was okay, a mutual serenity, and understanding — everyone was mindful of each other and it was pure love and bliss.
Ellie eyed your figure as your eyes fluttered shut, this time you were sleeping, fully this time letting yourself melt into the softness of the couch as Ellie reached over to her left to grab the blanket and drape it over your sleeping figure. This was also the time she finally got started on cleaning her guns, knowing that you were relaxed and cared for. Ellie wasn’t sure what she was doing, She felt vulnerable and that was rare, but she was doing what she said she would. Taking care of you, like you were taking care of her. You saved her life, and she saved yours, tit for tat.
Ellie in this moment craved nothing more than your lips on hers, perhaps your teeth to graze her flesh, biting…hard into her – wanting to connect and morph bodies. She craved for your love and your intimacy, she wanted you to love her bones and all. Ellie wanted you to love her past, her insecurities, her mistakes, and her wrongs. You were too good for her, she knew it, but there was nothing a sweet peach like you couldn’t fix.
#tlou2#modern au#cherry writes 🤍#ellie williams#ellie x reader#sapphic#ellie tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie x black!reader#ellie x fem reader#ellie angst#ellie fluff#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x f!reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie x black! fem! reader#ellie williams x black!reader#tlou x reader#cowboy! ellie#cowgirl! ellie#modern! ellie#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams angst#ellie williams x y/n#farmhouse! ellie
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I need the three of them, at the same time, rn
#cowgirl#ellie x abby#ellie x dina#ellie williams#abby anderson#dina woodward#ellie tlou#abby tlou#ellabs#ellie x y/n#tlou2#dina the last of us#ellie smut#abby smut#abby x fem!reader#ellie x fem reader#sapphic#sappho#wlw#dina tlou#tlou#ren moodboards ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ 𖥻#ren core ♡‧₊˚#( 𝒢𝒞﹕𝐌.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )#( 𝒢𝒞﹕𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐃 ʙᴏᴀʀᴅs )
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°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ dolly ! writer. lover. hopeless. sweetheart.
master list down below ->
mainly will write:
- gentle n' tender scenes
- fluff, smut, angst
- vi / jinx / arcane women
- ellie williams
- aot characters
ᡣ𐭩 n' more!
send requests!!!
ARCANE:
- sevika x dolly!reader
- ambessa x servant!reader
- sevika x dolly!reader pt2
- wife ambessa drabble
- (slightly) toxic sevika x reader drabble
- lamb and the wolf ambessa story pt1
- fem sweetie!reader x pitfighter!vi
COWGIRL!READER
DOLLY!READER
FARMERS!DAUGHTER!READER
TRAILER!PARK!PRINCESS!READER
STEAMPUNK!READER
༝༚༝༚ lora ♡︎
ps- english isn't my first language :c pls forgive dolly if she makes any mistakes!
#wlw#jjk men#jjk#tlou#jujutsu kaisen#the last of us#arcane#vi#caitlyn arcane#caitlyn#vi arcane#ellie williams#mlw#wlm#fanfiction#fanfic#asks#requests#dolly#cowgirl#outer banks#obx#rafe cameron#rafe#rafe obx#gojo satoru jjk#gojo satoru#suguru geto#suguru geto jjk#nanami kento
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SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWGIRL ,
RELIGIOUS!READER
coming soon…
#the last of us#tlou#tlou game#tlou fic#tlou hbo#tlou part 2#tlou2#tlou fanfiction#dina tlou#abby tlou#joel tlou#ellie tlou#joel miller tlou#abby x y/n#abby angst#abby anderson#abby x fem!reader#abby the last of us#abby x you#abby x reader#cowboy!abby#religious!reader#ellie williams#ellie the last of us#joel miller#dina nolastname#dina the last of us#dina woodward#✧﹐pearls work.🎀﹒‹𝟹#🍓﹑save a horse ride a cowgirl ♡﹒
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um true
#greta gerwig#little women#amy march#jo march#meg march#beth march#ladybirdgretagirwg#ladybird greta girwig#girlblogging#ellie williams#i love music#70s#nature#i wanna kms#pastel#outdoors#plants#pastry#diet coke#cowgirl#coquette aesthetic#aesthetic#tumblr girls#relatable#relateable#reblog this#90s nostalgia
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⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ TANGLED BONES !
ellie williams is a renown bounty hunter, known far and wide for her unmatched talent for catching fugitives. so, when she's paid a high price to bring back some runaway upper class girl, she's quick to take the job. charlotte strauss is the daughter of a very wealthy man who's loved by everyone in town. but she knows better than them where his true motives lie. after nineteen years of dealing with her father's malice, she runs away. unbeknownst to charlotte, her father hired the most feared cowgirl to hunt her down and bring her home.
coming soon !!
01 ; pretty pennies 'n pretty girls
02 ; maudlin
03 ; double-sided solivagant
more chapters to come ,, still in the planning stage ◡̈
ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴏᴛᴛᴇ'ꜱ ᴍᴏᴏᴅʙᴏᴀʀᴅ // ᴇʟʟɪᴇ'ꜱ ᴍᴏᴏᴅʙᴏᴀʀᴅ // ᴜʀ ᴠɪʀᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴍᴀᴘ
authors note : i know most ppl aren't fans of x oc fics & i completely agree w that ,, but i swear its for a purpose. the love interest having a name plays a huge part in the plot & i assumed an oc would be preferred over having to read 'y/n l/n' over and over again
this'll likely take a bit before it's fully out bc i prefer to have the majority written before i begin posting, but i wanted to show that i was working on something. i'll be posting smaller works tho in the meantime such as imagines and drabbles etc etc
if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just comment !
#vxsellie !#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#ellie williams#nav#cowgirl!ellie#old west au#x oc#ellie williams x oc#ellie x oc#series nav#series masterlist
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Cowboys
Ellie x reader
Part 1
Part 3
Summary: a trip to the local saloon? With a man?!
Wc: 2.1 k (shorter ik sorry)
For the ao3 girlies
Cw: cowboy! Ellie x fem! reader, drinking, reader gets drunk, Jesse (just a little side character), mentions of domestic violence, reader has trauma!, reader has scars, lesbian touching and yearning, lots of talking
Minors DNI (fr)
Seriously there’s some descriptions of abuse here y’all I tried to keep it vague, but it’s important I promise! I am not the kind of author who gives the reader trauma for literally no reason. That being said if this isn’t your cup of tea I’ll see you in another chapter or different fic!
LINKS TO HELP PALESTINE | DAILY CLICK
You wake up with the sun. The warm light forced its way through your eyelids, refusing to be ignored. You got up and attempted to get dressed as quietly as possible. You use the reflection of a steel pan to pin your hair back.
You liked the mornings, normally you were very alone, but even with company, it was a peaceful time. Golden light filters through your windows, everything and everyone is still beginning to wake up. It’s quiet.
A face appears behind yours in the reflection of the pan.
“Mornin.” Her voice was a bit low and gravelly.
“Mornin, where are you off to today?” You finish flattening out the last little stubborn hairs and turn towards her. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep, and bruises had begun to form on her face, but with the way she carried herself, you would never know what happened last night.
“Was thinking of going to the next town over, I have a few people to talk to.” You grab your boots from the floor and sit in the same wooden chair Ellie had last night. You try not to think about how close you were or how warm she felt against your fingertips as you lace up your shoes.
“You’re lucky you have that bandana.” You stand up and grab the hem of the fabric. “You’re a bit of a mess.” You pinch her chin between your thumb and forefinger and force her to turn to the side, and for some reason she lets you. You turn her the other way, inspecting the intensity of the bruises. “These’ll be gone in a week.” You brush your finger over a particularly deep purple bruise on her jaw, she flinches a bit even at your featherlight touch. “This one maybe two.”
“Whatever you say doc,” she replies with a laugh. You let go of her chin and head towards the door.
“I have to go, but you’ll be back before dark right?” Ellie just nods and you leave, hoping that she does actually come back.
** **
Today when you’re locking up the schoolhouse you hear a different voice, “Hi there, sunshine!”
You turn around and see Jesse. You usually didn’t see him at this time of day. He walks towards you like he has something to say.
“What’re you up to today?” He asks with a charming smile on his face.
“I was just going to head home and have dinner. How about you?” You really didn’t care to hear his plans for the day, but you had to be polite.
“I was hopin’ you might accompany me to a show at Buckhorn tonight?” His eyes are hopeful, he reminded you of a little boy, he hadn’t had the same life you did. You had really hoped you wouldn’t have to deal with him asking to court you, not completely sure you could manage to say no. You didn’t have a good reason for refusing, and who knows what he would say about you if you denied him.
“Um, alright, I suppose I could go. I can’t stay too late though, I don’t like ridin’ in the dark.” You manage a smile. Jesse looks like he is just barely keeping himself from jumping up and down in celebration.
He nods, “I will make sure you get home safe and sound darlin’. Suppose we should head on over then.” You untie your horse and take her by the lead, walking beside Jesse to the saloon.
You didn’t have much to talk about, the conversation was mostly small talk. You let him ramble on about his journeys to Santa Fe, the Apaches he’s encountered, hostile cowboys, thieves. No one ever actually threatened him, just passed by, but with the way he told the stories you would think he would be covered in scars and bruises.
You finally make it to the saloon, Jesse orders you both whiskey. You down it like a shot and Jesse seems surprised, but not appalled like you would have expected. “You want another?” he asks with raised eyebrows and a laugh.
“Yes please.” You smile up at him, a little more genuine. Maybe you could have fun, with enough liquor in your system you could get along with anyone. Drunk you was charming, magnetic, bubbly, men usually tolerated that a little better. Plus the drinks were free.
The band starts playing and you pull Jesse out on the wooden dancefloor. The music pulls at your limbs. As you dance with him you feel smooth as water, the more you drink the smoother you feel. Soon enough you’re leaning into his chest, swaying to the music. The night went by in a blur. You are at the bar getting another round of drinks when you see a familiar set of eyes appear at the entrance.
She makes a beeline towards you, shouldering people out of the way as she approaches. Her eyes look angry, but all she does is brush her hand down your arm like she was making sure you were real.
“I couldn’t find you.” She says, and you swear everything and everyone else melts away as she speaks.
She was looking for you.
“I was here.” You say with a drunk smile, relieved to see her. “With Jesse.” you point over to him. She doesn’t even bother to look. You lean in towards her to whisper, “He’s pretty boring, but he gave me free drinks.” you hold up a glass of whiskey as proof, slightly swaying with the movement.
“I’m gonna take you home.” She says gently.
“That would be very nice, I’m sure Jesse wouldn’t want to take me all the way out there. Just let me go tell him.” You haven’t stopped smiling since you saw her.
“Alright,” she nods, “I’ll be waitin’ for ya by the door.”
You stumble over to him, “Jesse, I gotta head home.”
“Ok let me go get my-”
“No need, my bodyguard over there is takin’ me home.” You point to the masked cowgirl by the door. Jesse looks at you, confused.
“I’ll explain it to you another time, I promise I’m safe with him.” You pat him on the shoulder for reassurance.
“Can I at least talk to him? So I can know you’re safe.” Well at least he seemed to actually care about you, not just the concept of you.
“I don’t see why not,” you grab his hand, it’s large and rough, his palm felt like sandpaper against yours, “follow me.” You lead him towards the cowgirl. She’s standing with her arms crossed, observing the drunkards surrounding her.
“Hi,” her head snaps towards the sound of your voice, her eyes soften.
“Hello darlin’,” she runs her hand alongside your arm again. Goosebumps rise in the wake of her touch. She looks behind you at the man you’ve brought over to her. “Who’s this?”
“This is Jesse,” you pull him so he’s standing alongside you causing him to stumble a bit. You giggle. “He wanted to make sure you were gettin’ me home safe. Said he wanted to talk to you.”
Ellie reaches out her hand to shake his, “M’ Joel,” she says in a gruff voice. Jesse’s eyes widen a bit. You hadn’t heard her man voice yet, it was a little silly. “Why don’t you go wait by my horse darlin’? I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Um, alright.” You didn’t love being booted from a conversation like that, but you were starting to get tired and your feet were starting to ache.
You walked out of the saloon to Ellie’s horse. You feel light and heavy at the same time. Then you remember you brought your own horse here. Your thoughts were so jumbled.
You walk over to grab her, untying her lead after a bit of a struggle. Figuring you would pony her over to the house. You would not ride horseback drunk. Again.
By the time you get back to Ellie’s horse she’s waiting for you. She grabs the lead from your hands and helps you up onto the horse. You were going to try like hell to remember the feeling of her hands on your hips.
“Thank you good sir,” you say with a giggle. She just shakes her head and mounts the horse, grabbing your horses lead before her horse begins to trot away from the saloon towards the quiet desert.
You probably couldn’t help the way you leaned against her back, pressing your body to hers. She was so warm. Your hands wrapped nice and tight around her waist and she hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even moved. She stayed sitting right up staring straight ahead. You couldn’t bring yourself to remember why you shouldn’t be doing this. You only knew that you wanted to and that’s what mattered right now.
“Who’s Joel?” You asked, cheek pressed against her leather coat.
“He’s- he was a friend.” She can barely disguise the sorrow in her voice.
“Was he your husband or somethin’?” Questions tend to just pour out of you in this state with no regard for the person you’re asking.
“No, no he was a good friend.”
“Mm, you’re lucky you never had a husband.”
“Why?”
“Well I don’t know if all husbands are like how mine was, but I wouldn’t try it again, just in case.”
“What happened?” You let the sound of the horses hooves hitting the dirt path fill the silence for a moment. You hadn’t really told anyone what happened in your house on the edge of town, where no one could hear you or see you.
“Well, I’ll start at the beginning I suppose. My daddy got sick, real sick and he wanted me to have a man to take care of me after he was gone. So I married a man he chose for me. I didn’t know him, I barely saw him before we got married. But I wanted to make sure my daddy could die knowing I’d be taken care of, so I did it. I still regret going through with it.” You nuzzle your cheek into her back, trying to get impossibly closer. “I still don’t like to think about our wedding night.”
“I’m sorry darlin’ you don’t have to-”
“No I want to, I haven’t said anything to anyone about this before. Kinda feels nice, I feel lighter. Anyways, we moved into that tiny house. It didn’t take long for him to get mean, real mean. Since we lived so far away, no one could hear the screamin’ and yellin’. I still have some scars from that him, that’s why I had that medical kit for you when you got hurt. I’ve had to clean myself up more times than I’d like to admit.” You let out an empty laugh.
“Where is he now?” Ellie’s voice has an anger in it that was terrifying, the type that was calm and sure. She knew exactly how she would remedy it.
“Well, every time he would hurt me I would threaten to shoot ‘em. He would laugh in my face like I had told some sort of fucked up joke. Here let me show you somethin’.” You hike up your dress, exposing the large scar on your thigh. You grab Ellie’s hand from the reins and place it on the Scar, her fingertips run gently across it, like she would hurt you if she pressed too hard. She traces around the jagged raised skin, it was like she was trying to put a picture of it together in her head. “The night he did that I shot him right in the chest. He was an evil, evil man. No one missed him. He’s buried about 500 feet from the house, his grave is unmarked.”
You feel Ellie’s body relax a bit. “That’s good. You did good.” She’s still absentmindedly running her hand along your thigh. The feeling made your breath hitch. Your whole body grows hot. You hadn’t ever felt anything like that. “He deserved it, I hope you know that.”
“Still doesn’t feel good though, didn’t make me feel any better when he was dead. The only thing that changed was that I was safe again.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when her hand slowly leaves your thigh, pulling your dress back down for you.
“Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. Sometimes it feels like the only solution though.”
“Yeah it does.”
** **
You’re half asleep by the time the horse stops in front of your house. You barely manage to lift your head up, but somehow you get off the horse.
“Go on inside, I’ll get the horses settled.” She didn’t have to tell you twice.
You were halfway to the house when you remembered, “Ellie,”
“Yes?”
“Come and sleep inside tonight.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Taglist: @elliewilliamgfooc @bready101 @sakiigami @wishbones999 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @ellabssweetheart @lily-fics-11
If ur name is crossed out it wouldn’t let me tag u
Lmk what yall think! Notes, comments and reposts always appreciated! Thank you for all the support!
Ch. 3
#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie x reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x female reader#ellie x you#cowboy!ellie#western! au#cowboy!au#cowboys#cowgirl#the last of us 2
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I had a dream about lesbians at a bus stop
Some were like David Bowie with the makeup and stuff. Others were like cowgirls with the boots and all and then there was like 3 Ellie Williams
And one of the Ellie Williams was like BEGGING one of the David Bowie's that she could change, while the David Bowie lesbian was getting on the bus
So the David Bowie lesbian fucking pushes away the Ellie Williams lesbian and the bus drives off. I keep walking and I see like photorealistic versions of South park characters in mobility scooters.
And they're going up hill so their mobility scooters don't really work and I'm on the other side of the street so I just keep moving and I get a text
I check the text and it's from my bf and he says "it's already November? I swear I'll read it soon!" And then there's some picture he drew in the text and I wake up
#dream#wlw#your dreams#waiter waiter more yuri please!#lesbians#lesbian#ellie williams#david bowie#cowgirl
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honestly obsessed with the gender farmhouse ellie got going on
#i love when girls look like boys that look like girls#what a sexc lesbian dad she is#i hope she knows that i know a thing or two about cowgirling myself *wink*#i need a wife that’s a prince#ellie williams#the last of us 2#thoughts#tlou2#COUNTRY TOMBOY I LOVE YOU
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