͙ೃ࿔ ⋆♡⋆.˚♡⋆.˚♡⋆.˚♡⋆.˚♡⋆.˚♡⋆.˚♡⋆.˚♡⋆.˚♡⋆.˚♡ ⋆.˚♡⋆.˚

saw someone saying they wanted farm ellie to manhandle them… fic request??

𑁍𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 / 𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𑁍

Ellie was the talk of the town, though that didn't mean much in a settlement of a mere 500. Though many people wore flimsy tank-tops and boots covered in a work day's mud, most were men. Ellie knew what the older folks had to say about her, and yet she still found it in herself to park her 70's Ford Ranger, her pride and beauty, outside of your father's farmhouse before starting a long day of shoveling, handling, herding, and operating.

Today, you sit on the top step of your cream-white wooden porch. You lean your head against the railing, observing Ellie at work.

There she is as always, in a thin tank top that clings to her when the sun beats down on the field. Half of her hair is tied back into a messy bun, and her bangs nearly cling to her forehead. She occasionally fans herself with her shirt, making you swoon in the process. One sight that catches your eye, however, is the shine of her belt buckle. The base is a solid black oval with gold flower embellishments prodding throughout. However, in the middle lay an amber moth. You've always wondered why she likes that specific buckle so much, and it intrigues you (plus, you like eyeing up her waist).

You watch from a distance as Ellie looks up at the sky, probably in her own thoughts or wishing for some summertime thunderstorms. However, you can't look away before Ellie catches your gaze. Her eyes make your cheeks burn, the skin already hot from the July heat. It isn't the first time she has caught you staring, and it certainly won't be the last.

You rise from the porch and approach her, giving a sheepish but rather sweet smile.

Ellie huffs out a laugh as you wave, and hunches down to set the small square bale down. "This yer new ritual now, miss? You gonna lure me into that house of yours for sweet-tea like yesterday?" She teases, voice thick and sweet like honey straight from the comb.

"C'mon! You've been working for like, five hours. You can handle a ten minute break, can't you?" You know you sound pathetically hopeful, but your crush on Ellie makes it difficult for you to filter your words. Her lack of complaints don't help, either.

"You know I can't do this everyday, as much as I enjoy our tea parties. Now, head on inside. Your father would be pissed if I let you sun burn. That sundress ain't protectin' you." Ellie points out, and butterflies flutter in your stomach. So she did notice the dress.

"What if I wanna stay out here with you?" You question, a soft, rising lilt in your voice in hopes it'll soften her like butter.

"Miss, please. I have to finish up with these hay bales." She reiterates, though it is currently taking everything in Ellie not to indulge in your request.

"Well fine, then. But I'm not leavin'. You'll have to drag me back into that house." You state firmly, crossing your arms.

Ellie's brows rise, and she scoffs softly. "Drag you in, huh? This is your last chance."

You only offer up a cheeky smile, feet planted on the ground. Please pick me up, please take the bait, please, please, please-

Just five seconds later, you feel a strong hand hook under the back of your legs and lift you with ease. You let out surprised laughter, Ellie not holding back from her own snort, and Ellie hauls you over her shoulder like a bag of scratch as she walks through the grassy fields and into the farmhouse.

"You're strong, jeez! I didn't know someone standing at a simple 5'5" could throw me around like this." You tease.

Though you can't see it, Ellie glares and flicks the back of your thigh with her fingertip. You don't complain any further, happy with yourself.

Ellie carefully sets you down on the couch and you tug on her hand before she can walk away. "You can't just bring me in here and not have tea."

And with the way she sighs, defeated but amused, you know you're going to get your way.

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。·˚˚· aquarium date ·˚˚·。

Riot! (2007) - Paramore 𓂃

ᵎᵎ i do not own any images ALL CREDITS TO THE ORIGINAL CREATORS ᵎᵎ

{ Acquaintances to Enemies (to Lovers?) E.W. } COMPLETED

Summary: You find Ellie in Santa Barbara and she invites you on her journey back home and trust is tested early on between the women.

Warnings: Just cussing so far. Angst. Established female OC name but no physical descriptions used. Each chapter has a different warnings. Please let me know if I missed anything.

Author's Note: First fic! New Year's Resolution is to write more so here is something I whipped up this month.

Parts: ❎ , 2 , 3 , 4

You weren’t sure how you managed to get into the position that you were in. Trekking behind some girl you found just days before hanging upside down and bloodied. Some girl that you helped free and somehow allowed you to patch her up. You had no real motive in doing this except for not wanting to see the Rattlers take in another wanderer as a slave. Despite you saving her, this girl had a death wish, and she headed towards the Rattlers’ base anyways. After a day, she came back to the house where you two had camped out in, missing two fingers, and a defeated look in her eyes. Another day passed before you found yourself here, with the California sun beating down on both of you, traveling back to where she came from, and making you wonder if following her was a mistake.

You followed a few yards behind the taller woman through the streets, following the path where she had taken to get here. Little words have been exchanged between you and the dark auburn since you’ve met. You were used to being alone so talking didn’t come naturally. It also didn’t help that you couldn’t trust easily and already had some escape routes in mind in case this sudden partnership soured. She seemed to move on pure will alone, and you knew she could easily over power you if she wanted to. 

“Are you alone?” she asked a few days prior. She was laying on a dining room table where you two had set up camp in a house nearby from where you found her, and you were suturing her stomach. She half whispered the question in a low tone as she held her breath through the pain. Her question broke a fourth wall of sorts. You were just a passerby in her story, an observer, a blip in her existence, not someone worth getting to know. You only joined this story as a stranger, who from time to time had moments of kindness- weakness- that usually did not end well for you. You were cautious about answering but considering that she seemed to have been left for dead, hanging in the Rattlers’ trap, she must have been alone as well, so you answered honestly, “Yes.. It’s just me.” Her lip was thin as she grimaced from the pain, her light eyes looking up at you briefly at yours before she cursed and threw her head back, shutting them tightly. “Fuck.” 

You didn’t expect her to come back to the camp after she said she was going to the Rattlers’ base, but when she did come back, missing her two fingers and covered in blood again, it was clear this girl really had nowhere else to go. She went upstairs without saying a word and spent that night in one of the bedrooms, with a leather belt between her teeth, cauterizing her own fingers. You could hear the muffled and strained screams followed by quiet sobs.

The next day, her two fingers were bandaged up. She was checking on her supplies when you walked over and handed her oranges that you had foraged that morning. You sat and started to check on your supplies too, not wanting to stay at that camp any longer than need be; it was too close to Rattler territory. She had stopped rummaging through her backpack and you felt a pair of eyes watch you. “Do you have a name?”   

Her question made you wonder what her angle was despite her calm tone. “Juno,” your voice was soft, like a chime in her ears. You blinked over and looked at her, “and you?” She paused and kept you in her gaze longer than you would have expected. You felt heat tinge your face in embarrassment for those few extra seconds. “Ellie,” she responds dryly, managing to peel her eyes away. She seemed to have been lost in thought before continuing. “I’m going back home, it’s a long journey, but if you want to leave this place, you should come.”

A life altering moment delivered in a nonchalant question. ‘Home?’ A foreign concept. “We leave in an hour,” she zips her backpack and goes into the garage to use the workbench.

‘We?’ Seemed like Ellie already decided that you were coming along. You have proven yourself useful, you thought, and Ellie was strong. Anyone who survives going into the Rattlers’ base and making it out without getting caught or killed had to be one hell of a fighter- ‘or fucking crazy.’

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