I want to kiss someone who wants to touch me, who touches me deliberately, like they’ve been waiting to get their hands on me, like they’ve been fantasizing about it. Someone who knows exactly what they want… and takes their time showing me.
LIKEEE the girl can obviously let obsession and anger consume her and she can be rather violent just twist that into love for a person typa thing?sighhh guess imma have to write it bc i have seen that nowhere.
"You attract what you fear" ahhhh a tattooed stone butch that's a hot nerd, will treat me like a princess and wants a girlfriend always at her service who will listen to her for hours, how scary!!
need a butch to just... stare at. like how a house pet will stare at you from the doorway from another room. that's me and i am staring and plotting looking at you and your very lovely visage and you don't know what i am planning but i am planning Something... let me observe
I have an idea but if you don't like it you can discard it!
Maybe something like Ellie x reader where reader is a runner?
It's 3am and that's the only idea that came to my mind haha. Love your writing btw.
-🌮
I Love You (Too)
ellie williams x runner reader
synopsis: it went too fast, you got bit; now she’s alone again.
zom’s note: im so glad you like my writing, tysm! since there was no specifics, i wanted to branch out and write smthg angsty, bc why not. i lowkey feel bad… my shayla.
word count: abt 955
warnings: angst, death (ellie shoots reader), just pure sadness not gonna lie.
Love
noun
A deep feeling of adoration and affection. Complex and utterly fucked.
—
God- It wasn’t supposed to make this turn, literally and figuratively. It was supposed to be a simple scout… in a foreign area. Red Flag. It was quiet, Green Flag? No infected, right? Fuck no. A major fucking fuck of fuckest nos. Open street, Green Flag, Houses… Red Green Flag? It all happened way too fast. One minute you and Ellie were walking, chatting quietly, still alert, but not as sharp as you both should be.
First came one, round an abandoned truck. Then came another… then another… that alerted another. Then before you know it, A WHOLE DAMN LOT OF THEM. Two people against what felt like hundreds, constant moving, running, dodging, shooting, stabbing.
A means for survival, you had Ellie’s back, Ellie had yours. Well for the most part… Ellie split from you just for a second? A minute…? Three or seven. It was a frenzy, her mind was running miles. Yours also in a panic until then last infected.
—
She had an arm around you as support, holding your waist with the other. Both covered in grime and blood, that was hopefully not your own. With an effort you both managed to huddle inside a safe house, deemed that way by Ellie’s check through. Green Flag. It's okay, everything was fine.
Until it wasn’t… that’s when Ellie noticed the copious amount of blood near your calf, running down your to your ankle like a fucking river, splitting into streams. Red Flag. Ellie damn near felt her knees buckle, immediately drawing your attention to where she blankly stared. You assured her it was nothing, before turning your leg fully to reveal the ripped fabric of your jeans… a few scratches littering under the rip… then a bite. No that was fucking obvious…
“Oh…” was all you could muster out, before glancing back at Ellie. She stood there, frightened as you tried to console the situation. She was gonna puke.
—
That was almost a week ago. Maybe a week. Ellie couldn't be certain… a few days definitely. You told her you weren’t going to let her see your certain demise. You both knew what was meant to happen. That was days ago, She didn’t let you. She said… she’d do it, so you two can savor each moment left. Red Flag.
‘Ellie, pull the damn trigger’, is what she’d tell herself.
She wouldn’t… not now… not on you.
So here we are, Ellie sitting outside the house you ultimately turned in, because she couldn’t do it. Reminds her of that couple that ran from Jackson some time ago. She understood… well related.
Life was a cruel mistress. The amount of times she held the pistol to you, your cordyceps infected brain not caring, body working on instinct. She knew you were gone… but the moans and cries felt a little too human each time.
She grabbed her journal, scribbling in the worn book, scratching your face… a face that made her feel more sane… especially after Santa Barbara. Or maybe she never was. She felt the same as she did on that goddamned beach.
Broken down, lost without him, or her... Or you. Alone again. No one. Just her mind. Cruel.
Did you feel alone in that head of yours too? Was sitting prisoner in your own body as your last bits of sanity where taken from you by a fucking fungus petrifying? Did Ellie being the last thing you could grasp mentality give you peace… or sadness?
It didn’t bring her peace thinking about it. She found it hard to even think about you without the fear in your eyes, a primal fear that sinks deep into your bones. You unknowingly clawed her down with you once you turned, or maybe it was the other way round. She knew it was fucked up, keeping you here… she knew it was wrong. It was selfish. You aren’t even you anymore, yet she still holds onto the thought of you. It's twisted. It’s sick… it’s the second time this has happened. One time too many. Melancholic.
She tossed the journal down next to her; thinking was too much. She couldn’t, her hands shook, her body trembled. In, out. Inhale, exhale, she reminded herself.
Standing, Ellie looked at the house behind her. Quiet… Red Flag. She wanted to hug you, play ignorant to the fact you got bitten…
She went inside, your reaction is always immediate and hostile. Could there be guilt lying somewhere in your brain…? Maybe she was personifying you too much, you weren’t human anymore. She watched you attempt and attempt to reach her, bound by some old rope she found in the garage of this stupid house. Inhale, Exhale. She grabbed her handgun, trying to tune out your screams and snarls, struggling.
She adored you, she tried to hold on to what she had of you… she couldn’t. Red Flag. All she could grasp is your last words, before the day your mind wasn’t yours. The sobbing, and the denial.
“Ellie, you know meeting you was amazing…
She steadied her hand.
…I wish we could have had more time together, you’re so so special to me…
Ellie aimed towards… the runner? you.
… don’t worry too much, and please don’t lose yourself…
Ellie fired ???
… I Love You, Ellie.”
—
She slung her backpack on her shoulders, walking outside. Her movements— mechanical. Ellie crumpled, she sobbed. Alone, scared, tired. Her own type of infection clawed through her body. One that didn’t kill her, not physically. Dissociated… it all went too fast, yet too slow, like trudging through tar.
