#William attempts to be a good parent

[furaflictedhost]

Afton Family Stupidity

~Thunderstorm~

The drive home was not a long one. Winter called for the sun to set far earlier than usual, so by the time William was able to go home it was dark.

Rain pattered down on the windshield, sending sparks of light across the windshield with every passing streetlamp. It was quiet for the short drive, and he hummed softly to himself, not bothering with the radio. He complacently watched the cars around him, a sense of ease settling into him after a long day.

A low rumble like the sky startled him from his calm. He listened closely, and when it happened again, he intensely focused on the road. He had something to attend to.

The moment he was home, he made a mad dash for the front door, raindrops nipping at him every step of the way. Leaning heavily against the front door, William took a deep breath, and flopped down on the bench beside him.

“Hey, hon! How was work?”

Poking her head around the doorframe, Mrs Afton greeted her husband with her usual bright grin. He waved, wrestling with the knot in his shoelaces with his other hand. 

“It was alright. I narrowly dodged the downpour.”

Shucking off his shoes, William headed for the living room, and snagged the cushions off the couch. Clara watched her husband tear apart the couch set up, and tilted her head upwards to listen. Upon hearing the clash of thunder, she understood. 

Setting the cushions up carefully off to one side, William gathered as many pillows from around the room as possible, even borrowing from other rooms. After a quick but sturdy setup, he threw a quilt over the whole thing, and added chairs around the perimeter for support.

Sometimes being an engineer meant being able to construct a really awesome pillow fort. 

After ensuring his set up was sturdy, he headed up the stairs, and poked his head into his youngest’s room. Thunder was one of the things that Evan had no fear of. Regardless, He often joined them in the pillow fort. 

The room was devoid of life, but all of the plushies had been snagged from their spaces, and the quilt from the bed was mysteriously tucked under. Evan had likely escaped to his favored hiding place.

Kneeling, William lifted the edge of the blanket. He was met with a wide eyed stare, and Foxy staring at him, sitting as a guard at the end of the bed. Wordlessly, Evan crawled out from under the bed at the sight of his father, grabbing a few of his fluffy friends as he went. William smirked, amused by his son’s appearance from the void underneath his bed, and beckoned for him to follow.

“Come on, Let us go find your sister.”

When he poked his head in, Elizabeth was perched on her bed, eyes squeezed shut and hands clasped over her headphones as she tried to block out the noise. Approaching slowly, William sat down next to her, and gently put his hands over hers. Her green eyes snapped open, and she looked up at him, bottom lip quivering. She slowly took off her headphones, and took her father’s hand.

“Hi, Daddy…”

She spoke quietly, voice shaky from crying. He smiled reassuringly, and she latched onto him, pulling herself close to his chest. Gently, he patted her on the back of the head, smoothing back her hair. 

“Hello, little one. I have constructed a pillow fort. How about you and Evan head downstairs, and I’ll meet you there?”

Lizzy looked up at him, seeming hesitant. 

“Your mother is making hot chocolate.”

That seemed to give her enough incentive. She nodded, climbed off her bed, taking her brother’s hand. After they had headed downstairs, he looked down the hall at his eldest child’s room.

Michael had been terrified of thunder since he was little, running to hide at the first sign of a storm. The pillow fort had started with him, as the fluffy fortress seemed to distract him from the fear. He refused to come join them last time, declaring himself too old for his father’s attempts to soothe him. Perhaps if he extended the offer, he would come join them?

The door to his room was ajar, and he had his blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He shook, staring at the window blankly, watching the raindrops slide down the glass. With every crash of thunder, he flinched, and gripped the blanket tighter.

A gentle tapping on the door frame brought his attention back to the moment. He looked over his shoulder to see his father silhouetted in the doorway. 

“Hey there, sport.”

Gripping the blanket tighter, Michael looked down, and then back to the window. He opened his mouth to respond, but a crash of thunder forced a squeak out of him in place of the words. William stepped forward, intent to comfort him, but stopped. Michael had asked him not to in the past. 

“We have built a pillow fort downstairs. You are welcome to join us if you would like.”

Michael looked like he wanted to respond, perhaps an angry retort, but the words never left him. His face screwed up, brows furrowing, but then fell to an apprehensive frown. 

“You do not have to if you do not want to.”

At the reassurance from his father, Michael’s face fell to a frightened stare. He desperately wanted to retain the image he’d cultivated, the bad boy who didn’t need his parents. However, at that moment he didn’t feel that confidence. He felt like a small child, listening to the roar of a monster outside. Rising to his feet shakily, Michael dragged the blanket with him, and walked over to his father. 

As they walked downstairs, Michael pulled the blanket tight around him, almost tripping his father with how close he was following behind. William ushered his son into the pillow fort, where Evan and Elizabeth were waiting with Clara. 

Michael settled down next to his mother, and Clara handed him a mug of hot chocolate, ruffling his hair affectionately. She adjusted the blanket around her son, so it wasn’t falling off his shoulders. William sat down next to them, and began fiddling with the lamp.

Evan scooted closer to his brother, a determined look on his face. After shuffling around in his stuffed animal pile, he firmly placed his Foxy plush on his brother’s lap. With a shaky smile, Mike adjusted the Foxy plush with his free hand. 

“Thanks Squirt.”

Evan nodded, and planted himself next to Michael, putting his head on his shoulder. Clara wrapped her arm around both of them, holding her sons close. Elizabeth quickly clambered over, and snuggled up to her mom.

At some point, William turned on the television, allowing the melody of Fredbear and Friends to dull the silence and distract from the fear. The thunder continued to crash outside, but Michael could barely hear it. He felt like a small kid again, and for the moment, he didn’t mind. 

[ibrithir-was-here]

Doodles I did while watching Pride and Predjudice 1995 with my roommates of very silly self indulgent Second Gen story ( soley made really to drive Mr Darcy to distraction)

George Wickham Jr. is invited to Christmas at Pemberly because Wickham and Lydia are basically on the run from their creditors again and Lizzie isn't about to let her nephew starve on the streets during winter no matter the relations between the parents.

And turns out to be a good thing they did as all the little Bennett cousins go out to skate on the frozen lake and young Silas Darcy falls through the ice, and George being the oldest and strongest manages to save him.

The boys recuperate together during the rest of the holidays and become fast friends--much to the concern of Mr Darcy--and that friend continues into their adult years where it starts to turn into something more...

(I know they're cousins they're also fictional and adults and it was legal then-- even if not for necessarily this circumstance--and they're gay they ain't having any bio kids anyway )

[strawberrystrangers]

Do you think JJ would constantly stay over at readers house bc he feels safe there compared to his own??

🦋anon

I love this!! I also kind of love the idea of the reader having accepting parents too bc that scene with Kiara’s hurt hurt!!

This literally just became a “please let JJ have a win with a girlfriend’s family who actually loves him” write-up…

Yeah he loved the independence that the chateau gave him, but your house had the company and it had the warmth of family. Your parents have stern rules about bedroom etiquette but they’ve practically given him the spare room whenever.

He definitely swings by after altercations with his dad; he’s been walking the street for hours trying to get the courage to ask if he can see you (& he does this every time, even after the 50th visit) because his insecurity is so deeply rooted in feeling like a burden (fuck you, Luke) to everyone.

So when he says he should go, because he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome, you’re always responding to it with “please stay” and not a “you can stay if you want” knowing he needs the clarifying reassurance that you want him there.

You’ll ask your parents downstairs if he can stay, and they’re always happy to say yes.

Your dad will talk to him in the kitchen while he’s making the dinner, and JJ helps with his experience from his summer jobs in the golf club kitchen. Your dad will never fail to find out how bad the altercation was, and give gentle advice and care and love and reassurance to jj, emphasising that he’s always welcome and never alone. Your dad is basically the Robin Williams in Good Will Hunting to Matt Damon. Your dad will hug him for as long as JJ needs it and there’s a few shared tears between them.

At dinner, your parents are always so interested in what JJ’s been up to—and when he divulges about the gold and his adventures, they believe him and want to hear more. They always make him feel like they see potential in him and that he’s not destined to be like his father & that his name isn’t tainted with a pre-made future.

JJ will talk mechanics with your mum, she’ll ask him if he knows what’s up with their car and he’ll go on this whole nerd talk about it.

He’ll help clean up: he washes the dishes and you dry them while your parents sit at the table still, sipping beer or martinis.

The recurring thought they always have, and the recurring thing they’ll always tell JJ is: “you have the kindest soul who has found it’s other half in our daughter” and they always make it clear that they’d rather him with you—a Pogue with gentleness—than the boys who attempt to butter them up—Kooks with misogynistic views.

[ahintofchaos]

Homecoming

Agatha Harkness X Reader

Summary:

"Can we go home?"

Agatha, Reader, and Billy clean up and go home after the showdown with Rio. Home, of course, being the Kaplan residence in Eastview. Three bloody witches in suburbia.

Established AgathaxReader, can be read as a standalone or with my other Agatha fics.

“Can we go home?”

You’re bloodied and battered, having just been launched around the backyard like a toy. Your voice is raspy but steady as you stumble to your feet, moving almost unconsciously toward Agatha. Agatha, whose arms are opening to you. 

What a nightmare. Trust Agatha to have the single most dramatic closure talk with an ex you’ve ever seen. You would question her taste in women if you weren’t also one of her choices. 

You find purchase in Agatha’s arms, sagging against her. She, with her recently recovered powers, seems better off than you. Billy, too, is in relatively good shape. He holds his hands out under your arms like he’s waiting to catch you if you fall. You want no one’s touch but Agatha’s right now. “Want to define home for me, honey?” 

You consider her words. You had meant the place where Agatha had lived, but that was currently a little busted, what with the showdown with Rio that took out several windows and inexplicably, a sink. Not to mention the lack of a front door and the probably trashed interior, thanks to the Salem Seven. “Okay. Can we go somewhere else?” 

You don’t know where that would be, but you’re desperate for a place to rest. Agatha might be one of the most powerful witches to ever exist, but you were relatively ordinary as far as witches went, and you were well past your limit. Agatha didn’t offer a solution, but Billy piped up almost hesitantly.

“You can come with me. I mean, to my house.” 

You’re too tired to argue, and Agatha seems to follow your lead. She nods at the boy and you all three make your way around the side of the house to the road, where Billy’s Subaru is miraculously untouched. “What a shitshow,” Agatha mutters as she sets you in the backseat, and you can’t tell if she means the events of today or the state of the car. Both, probably. There are tumbleweeds of crumpled receipts back here, and you’re acutely aware of the amount of crumbs you’re sitting on. Teenagers have never been known for their cleanliness, but this is really something.

Instead of getting into the passenger seat like you expected, Agatha slides in next to you. She buckles your seatbelt and then hers. Billy waits until you’re both set to start off down the street, and before long your head is lolling against the window as you slip into a fuzzy half-sleep state. 

The next thing you register is someone’s fingers in your hair, lightly stroking across all the knots and snarls you’ve accumulated. Your head is no longer against the window but on Agatha’s shoulder, soft and reliable. She gently tilts your head up once your eyes start to flicker open, and she reaches over you to undo your seatbelt. With a whispered “hang tight,” she gets out, leaving your side cold without her pressed against you. She opens your door and half lifts you out of the car. You wind your arm in hers and make your way up the walkway of Billy’s house. It’s quaint, not unlike Agatha’s house. Very suburban. The door isn’t locked, and the three of you walk right in. Billy shucks off his shoes at the front door, and you attempt to do the same. Agatha makes no effort. Billy’s mother is on the couch, her back to the door, but she turns around when she hears you come in. “William?”

Billy ducks sheepishly. “Hi, Mom, I–” 

“Where were you? You’ve been gone for 24 hours!” 

Billy’s father comes in from the kitchen and joins the conversation, which at this point is more of a monologue. Lots of “All day, no communication, where on earth were you?” Their lecture pauses for a moment as both parents simultaneously switch their attention to you. And what a sight you must be. A very disheveled and rather bloodied woman in the arms of a centuries-old witch, who is visibly older than you. Although the age difference is negligible after so many centuries, Agatha does look older than you by appearance. It must be quite the shock, you think, to have your son come home after going missing for a day and bringing with him two unusual guests. Fortunately, Billy’s parents seem more relieved to have him home than anything, and are fairly dismissive of the fact that you’re also here. 

“Uh, Mom, Dad,” Billy says, “we’ve had a really long day and they’re going to crash here, okay?” He motions to you and Agatha, who is at this point holding you up almost entirely, her arm tight around your waist. 

Mrs. Kaplan nods, turning back to Billy. “Yes, of course, sure,” she says, barely paying you any mind. “But you need to communicate with us, William. We were so worried. And it’s so late!” As the three of you walk past her and up the stairs, her eyes linger on Agatha’s swirling dress and coat. You quickly turn your attention back to the stairs, lest you miss one and send you and Agatha both tumbling back down. 

–

“So, this is my room,” Billy says, casting his arm around the space, “and this is the bathroom, if you need it.” It’s a nice little space. Very Billy Kaplan. Maximoff? Who knows. Your attention is fixed on the bed. You want nothing more than to lie down and sleep for a century, but you’re also uncomfortably aware of the blood drying in sticky patches all over your face and neck, courtesy of Rio’s death by a thousand cuts. You’re so tired you’re numb, and you can’t really tell what blood is Agatha’s and what’s yours anymore. But judging by the way both she and Billy look at you, a good bit of it is yours. Ouch. 

“Let’s get you fixed up, then we can sleep,” Agatha says, gently prodding you along toward the bathroom. You follow mutely, taking a seat on the closed toilet while Agatha starts running the sink water. She cups her hands and holds the water up to the tiny window, and you recognize Jen’s healing spell. Agatha looks at you and tilts her head back, and you get her message and do the same. She opens her hands over your face, and the water starts to rinse away the blood. It’s certainly messy, and Billy starts to interject that maybe you should move to the shower for this, but one look from Agatha shuts him up again. She repeats the process several times, picking glass out of your hair and skin where she finds it. Eventually, you’re looking better, and she takes one of the Kaplans’s pristine white hand towels and uses it to gently wipe away the rest of the crusted blood and dirt. You close your eyes, leaning into her touch. She finishes, but keeps her hand on your face, steadying you. You could fall asleep right there. 

“Hey,” Agatha waves a hand toward Billy, who has been observing the entire process from the doorway of the tiny bathroom. “How about some fresh clothes? Find her something normal, please,” she says. That might be a dig at his current outfit, with its emo sweater and cape. She’s one to talk, you think. That purple coat was dramatic as hell. Billy ducks back into his room and rummages through some drawers, and returns with a clumsily folded tshirt and a pair of sweatpants. “Okay?” he asks, and you and Agatha both nod. She closes the door in his face, not taking her hand away from you. Your pulse thumps against her fingertips and she’s never been so glad to feel it. 

“Up,” she coaxes, and you obey. She gently shimmies you out of your old shirt, which is beyond repair, and gently pulls your arms through the new one. It’s a band you don’t recognize, but it’s very Billy. She slides your pants down your legs and you brace yourself on her shoulders as you step out of them one leg at a time. 

“I feel like a baby,” you say as she slides the soft black sweatpants up your legs, settling them on your waist. Agatha looks at you. “You had a rough go out there. Let yourself be a baby. You’re my baby.” If you weren’t so tired you could’ve cried. 

Agatha opened the bathroom door again and you emerged back into Billy’s room, feeling slightly more alive than before. Billy is sitting on the bed, but Agatha motions for him to get off. “My mom said she’s going to bring the air mattress, so we can–” 

“Teen, I am four hundred years old. I am sleeping in a real bed. And so is she.” Her hand settles on your shoulder, and Billy understands what else she’s saying. 

“Oh, I didn’t–” 

“I’m aware,” Agatha snaps. She turns abruptly from him to pull down the covers for you, helping you into bed. Your bones nearly melt as you relax into the mattress. Agatha walks around the bed to the other side and slides in. You lift your tired head and she helps you nestle yourself in her lap, your face pressed against her soft thigh. It’s familiar and comforting, and you smile unconsciously. Cracking your eyes back open, you see Agatha stealing a glance at you, before she readjusts herself against the headboard and rests her hand on your side. Billy starts talking, and Agatha responds, but you can’t bring yourself to focus. You’re alive, Agatha’s alive, and you’re safe. You’re getting real sleep in a real bed for the first time in a week. You drift to sleep with the buzz of Agatha’s voice in your ears and her warmth against you. You breathe deep. 

Everything else is for tomorrow. 

____________________

“Is she asleep?” 

“No, she’s–” Agatha stops herself. Too soon for jokes about that. She pets your hair and you sigh, pressing your face against her lap. “Yes, she’s asleep.” 

Billy shifts on the air mattress. “I didn’t know you were, like, together,” he said.

“Well, now you know.” 

“I thought you and Rio–” 

“That was a long time ago. Things change.” 

Billy paused. “Is that why she was so mad? She wanted you back?” 

“Gee, I should have stopped to ask her. Maybe when she was busy trying to reap your soul to restore cosmic order.” 

“Okay, nevermind.” 

Agatha sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t care.” 

“You don’t? But you two were together, you had a ki–” 

“I’m aware, Teen. But it wasn’t supposed to happen. The universe was against it, and I didn’t care. I wanted to spit in the face of the universe. And it came back to bite me. I wanted to be as strong as Death.” 

“You were angry.”

“Of course I was. I have always been angry. You try being almost executed by your coven at 19. Given a killing power you never learned how to control. You got just a taste of power and couldn’t handle it. You’d have gone on a spree.” She certainly had, but she didn’t say that part out loud. 

Billy knew, all the same. Who wouldn’t give in to the most powerful, most protective part of them? “Are you still angry?” 

Agatha looked down at you, breathing deep, eyes still behind your heavy lids. “Anger is a part of everyone. If you’re not angry, you’re either stupid or lying. But there are more things than anger. And don’t let anyone give you that positivity bullshit. Life hurts. You can’t stop it from hurting. You just do things anyway. And then you find things to hold onto.” 

Billy’s eyes fall on you too, and Agatha clears her throat loudly. He readjusts and looks back at Agatha. “Alright.” 

“Turn off the light, Teen. I’m going to sleep.” 

__________________

Life had not been kind to Agatha. Gifted with a power that was more of a curse, despised by the one person who was supposed to love her above all. Forced to fend for herself against a cruel mother and a coven that never accepted her. No wonder she turned to the one most reliable part of her, the darkest part of her. No wonder she wanted to get back at the universe, be more powerful than life and death. Bend the rules. But no one is stronger than death. Nicholas, being made partly by Death, was never meant to live. Agatha bent the rules as far as she could. And despite her best efforts, the universe came crashing down on her again, taking her son. Reminding her that she cannot force something that was never meant to be. It was enough to end a person. But Agatha was nothing if not a survivor. And eventually she found things worth holding onto. The most central of whom was now fast asleep in her arms, in the bedroom of a teenage boy. Four centuries of life, day by day, and now she was here. With an emo sidekick and the love of her life and the memory of her very own coven. What a journey. What a way to begin.

Taglist:

@polaris-likethestar

[burstfoot]

Your name is Kristen Wright. You’re barely 10. You’re at the outdoor funeral for your parents, a pair of genius scientists that Terra will never see again. You’ve spent the last two weeks giving false smiles to women and men who pretend to grieve them while spending every moment they think you’re not looking lauding them for their ‘foolishness’ and ‘hubris’. Sitting amongst a crowd of these intellectuals, your feel nothing looking at their crocodile tears, knowing they’re just happy there’s less competition for next year’s grants. Your new guardian grabs onto your hand in an attempt to grant you a modicum of comfort. You stare blankly at the sky above.

You’ve never felt so alone. You don’t think this feeling will ever go away.

Your name is Joyce Moore. You can hardly communicate anymore. Your best friend killed herself trying to replicate the experiment that gave you permanent brain damage. Every scientist at Rhine Lab now treats you like a child at best, and an animal at worst. Your parents have not come to see you. None of your colleagues seem to understand that you are still you, with a sense of humour, good taste in TV shows, and fucking feelings, god damn it.

You’ve never felt so alone. You don’t think this feeling will ever go away.

Your name is Ferdinand Clooney. You’ve lost everything you’ve ever worked for in a futile grab for power. The department of defense has you by the dick after saving you from a group of Pioneers who (justifiably) nearly beat you half to death. It’s playing fiddle to their whims or the rest of your life in prison - or, most realistically, a tragic accident report. Your aspirations aren’t within your reach anymore, and you know that it’s your fault. You will never be Kristen Wright, and it’s eating you alive.

You’ve never felt so alone. You don’t think this feeling will ever go away.

Your name is Parvis Ahrens. You’re not that old. You’re only 58. But you’re losing your mind. Every day, a little more slips away. You rely more and more on encyclopedic entries for information you took immense pride in knowing from your heart. You’ve spent the last few years focused on the pursuit of progress of all else. As part of this, you manipulated your star pupil in an attempt to permanently get her under your wing, outside of the influence of the Defense Director, a weak-hearted woman everyone else seems to think is cold as ice. She has years of life to change Columbian science. You don’t.

You’ve never felt so alone. You don’t think this feeling will ever go away.

Your name is Jara B. Wilson. You feel like you don’t see the girl who lived for you with so long in Kristen anymore. You’re a washed-up movie star, working for her cause above all else. Do you have anything that you’re working for for yourself anymore? She’ll be gone soon. You know that.

She hasn’t even left yet, and you’ve never felt so alone. You don’t think this feeling will ever go away once she leaves.

Your name is Nasti Londrey. Your people have never had a home. They might never have a home.

You’ve always felt alone. You will always be alone. That’s fine.

Your name is Justin Fitzroy Jr. Your dad died a week ago, and the cure has just been found for the hereditary illness that threatens to cut your lifespan in half. It was found by accident.

The sword of Damacles no longer hangs above your neck. Why then, do you still feel so alone?

Your name is Loken Williams. You reach out to a girl you tortured, who you know can’t remember what you did to her, because you’re going to die soon, and you need someone to remember what you did with your life.

Even if she kills you, at least you won’t die alone.

Your name is Trevor Friston. It’s been thousands of years down here. You just want to see your daughter again, and it will be another thousand until you do.

You’re very familiar with the loneliness that wraps around every single nanometer of your circuit board.

Your name is Dorothy Franks. Your whole family was killed in a Catastrophe. Your name is Elena Urbica. Your whole family, besides your twin sister, has disowned you. Your drive yourself head-first into the sciences to distract yourself from the loneliness.

Your name is Ho’olheyak. Centuries of ancestral memories swarm around your mind. Because of this, your lifespan was cut to a fraction of the life you should be living. You are obsessed with the history of your people, and you resent them from tearing your life away from you. You tear over books and tomes of history to find all means of unspeakable knowledge, hoping that somewhere in there you’ll find something that you can connect to.

You don’t even know you’re lonely.

Your name is Muelsyse.

You saw the writing on the wall. Saria and Kristen just had a massive fight. You’ve been drifting apart since college, but the only two people who you’ve felt a real connection to on all of Terra will hardly speak to each other anymore. Do you try and mend what happened between them? Can you? You don’t know what to do besides take all means to protect yourself in the fallout. You wish you weren’t so paranoid, so self-centered, that all you know how to do is ensure your own safety.

Is there anything on Terra for you besides loneliness?

Your name is Ifrit. It’s cold, and quiet, and you’re pretty sure you’ve killed everyone around you. Your eyes are blurred, you hands are shaky, and shards of black crystal stick out all over your body. Before you pass out, you think one thing:

Hell, you might be alone, but at least those bastard whitecoats got what was coming to them.

Your name is Olivia Silence. You pull yourself out of the rubble in a destroyed laboratory, where you see Saria looming over Ifrit, beaten half-to-death. You beat yourself up for thinking you could trust her - that she was there to protect Ifrit, and you. You can’t trust anyone in Columbia. You run to embrace Ifrit with your entire body, to protect her from the cold eyes of Saria standing above her. You look back at her with nothing but fear in your eyes.

You’ve never felt so alone. You have to get Ifrit out of Rhine.

Your name is Saria. You’re barely 8 years old. You went your father in tears, as a group of bullies came after you and destroyed your toy car. He tells you to stop crying. You’re not accomplishing anything by throwing a fit in front of him. He tells you to fight back - take responsibility for your weakness.

You’ve never felt so alone.

You won’t ever be this weak again.

Staring up at the sky, looking up as Kristen’s ark sends her out through the hole she tore in the false sky, you know that you were foolish to believe you could bypass your own weakness through sheer will.

And you’ll be lonely for the rest of your life without her.

[invisibleicewands]

‘I wanted to be seen as the greatest actor of all time. Then I realised that was nonsense’: Michael Sheen on pride, parenting and paying it forward

He’s the feted star who cracked Hollywood, but it was only when he swapped LA for his home town in Wales that he was able to do his most meaningful work yet

By Simon Hattenstone

Michael Sheen has been fabulous in so many TV dramas and movies, it’s hard to know where to start. But perhaps his most memorable appearance came earlier this year in a TV show that didn’t require him to do any acting at all. The Assembly was a Q&A session in which he took questions from a group of young neurodiverse people. Sheen didn’t have a clue what would be asked, and no subject was off limits. It made for life-affirming telly. The 55-year-old Welsh actor was so natural, warm and encouraging as he answered a series of nosy, surprising and inspired questions. I watched it thinking what a brilliant community worker Sheen would be. And, in a way, that’s what he has become in recent years.

“The Assembly’s had more response than anything else I’ve ever done,” Sheen tells me. “Almost every day someone will come up to me and mention it, particularly people who have children with autism. They say it was just so lovely to see something where the interviewers were empowered. I had a fantastic time.” He replays some of his favourite moments: the young man Leo who took an age to start talking, and then delivered the most beautifully phrased question about the influence of Dylan Thomas on Sheen’s life; the woman who asked what it was like to be married to a woman only five years older than his daughter; and the question that came at the end: “What’s your name, again?” He smiles: “And Harry with the trilby on. Just the nicest man ever.” You came across as an incredibly nice man, too, I say. “Aw well, it’s hard not to be when you’re among all those amazing people, innit.”

Today we meet in London, ostensibly to talk about A Very Royal Scandal, a gripping mini-series about Prince Andrew’s infamous Newsnight interview with Emily Maitlis – the disastrous attempt to defend his honour that sealed his fall from grace. But we don’t get to the show till it’s almost going home time. Sheen’s too busy discussing all the other stuff that matters to him, away from business.

Six years ago, he swapped life in Los Angeles for Port Talbot, the steel town where he grew up. These days he calls himself a not-for-profit actor – a term he happily admits he’s invented. “It means that I try to use as much of the money I earn as I can to go towards developing projects and supporting various things. Having had some experiences of not-for-profit organisations and social enterprises, I realised that’s what I want to do with my business. And my business is me.” He grins. There was a suggestion that he might stop acting in order to do good works, but he says that never made sense; only by getting decent gigs can he earn money to put back into the community.

It has to be said he’s got the air of a not-for-profit actor today – scruffy black top, sloppy black pants, black trainers. With a bird’s-nest beard and a thicket of greying curls, he looks nicely crumpled. But give him a shave and a trim, allow him a flash of that electric smile, and he could still pass as a thirtysomething superstar.

Sheen is best known for transforming into household names – Brian Clough in The Damned United; Chris Tarrant in Quiz; David Frost in Frost/Nixon; a trio of films as Tony Blair (The Deal, The Queen, and The Special Relationship); Kenneth Williams in Fantabulosa. His Prince Andrew is compelling; by turns petulant, pathetic, monstrous and poignant. He has a gift for inhabiting famous people – voice, body, soul, the works. He’s equally adept as a regular character actor – the dapper angel Aziraphale in Good Omens, pale and pinched as spurned suitor William Boldwood in the 2015 film of Far From the Madding Crowd, the tortured father of a daughter with muscular dystrophy in last year’s BBC drama Best Interests. He even plays a winning version of himself alongside David Tennant (and their respective partners Anna Lundberg and Georgia Tennant) in the lockdown hit TV series Staged.

But the work that changed his life was his 2011 epic three-day reimagining of The Passion on the streets of Port Talbot, involving more than 1,000 people from the local community. It was years in the making, and during that time he decided he would leave Los Angeles to come home. Initially, home just meant Britain, probably London. But the longer he spent with his people, the more it became apparent to him that home could only mean one thing – returning to Port Talbot, and helping the disadvantaged town in whatever way he could.

He admits that for many years he didn’t have a clue about the reality of life in Port Talbot. He had always lived in one bubble or another. His parents were hardly flush, but they had decent jobs – his mother was a secretary, his father a personnel manager at British Steel, and both were active in amateur dramatics. Sheen was academically gifted (he considered studying English at Oxford University before winning a place at Rada), a talented footballer (he had trials with Cardiff and Swansea) and an exceptional young actor. Then came the bubble of Rada and London, followed by the bubble of LA.

It was only when he started to work on The Passion that he began to understand his home town. One day he was rehearsing with a group in a community hall when he was approached by a woman. “She told me she was the mother of this boy who’d been in my class at school called Nigel. When I was 11, he fell off a cliff in an accident and died. It was the first time I’d known someone to die. She said, ‘I’ve started up a grief counselling group here. I have a little bit of money from the council because there is no grief counselling in this area.’” She’d had no counselling when Nigel died, nor in the 31 years since. “And all these years later, she’d set up a little grief counselling thing with a bit of money, so that was extraordinary to hear.” Next time he returned he discovered that the group no longer existed because of council cuts.

Every time he went back he discovered something new. He met a group that supported young carers. Sheen doesn’t try to disguise how ignorant he was. “I said, ‘All right, what are young carers?’ And they said, ‘They’re children who are supporting a family member.’ And I’m like, ‘OK, this is a profession, they get paid, right?’ And I was told, ‘No, they don’t get paid and our little organisation gives them a bit of respite – once a week we take them bowling or to the cinema.’ I went bowling with them one night and there were eight-year-old kids looking after their mother and bringing up the younger kids. This one organisation was trying to take these kids bowling one night a week, and then that went. No funding for that, either. That kind of stuff was shocking.”

As a child, SHEEN says he was oblivious to struggle because he was so driven by his own dreams. First, it was football. By his mid-teens it was acting. West Glamorgan Youth Theatre, which he calls “one of the best youth theatres in the world”, was on his doorstep. “The miners’ strike was on when I was 15 in Port Talbot and I wasn’t really aware of it at the time. That’s how blinkered I was, because I was so obsessed by acting at that point.” Acting wasn’t regarded as a lofty fantasy in Port Talbot as it may have been in many working-class communities. After all, the town had produced Richard Burton and Anthony Hopkins.

In his late teens, heading off for Rada, Sheen feared he would be surrounded by giant talents who would dwarf his. When he discovered that wasn’t the case, he suffered delusions of grandeur. “I wanted to be recognised as the greatest actor in the world,” he says bluntly. In the second year, the students did their first public production: Oedipus Rex. “I thought, well obviously I’ll be cast as Oedipus, then we’ll perform Oedipus to the public and when the world sees me for the first time I’ll be carried shoulder-high through the streets of London and hailed as the greatest actor of all time.” I look for an ironic wink or nod, but none is forthcoming.

Sure enough, he was cast in the lead role. “We did our first public production and I thought I was brilliant.” But nothing changed. It didn’t bring him instant acclaim. By the third night, he could barely get through the performance.

Were you a bit of a cock back then, I ask. He shakes his head. “No, I was having a breakdown. I was crying most of the time. I just fell apart. I spoke to the principal of Rada and I said, ‘I can’t continue at drama school, I have to leave.’ And he said just take some time off, which I did, and two or three weeks later I slowly came back and then completely changed the way I acted.”

Until then he believed acting was just about what he did. “I thought you just worked out how to say the lines as cleverly as you could; it had nothing to do with responding to other people or being in the moment. It was showing off, essentially. And there’s a ceiling to where you can get with that. That breakdown I had was because I’d reached the ceiling and didn’t know how to go any further. That’s why I fell apart.”

He gradually put himself and his technique back together. Was he left with the same ambition? “No. The idea of being considered the best actor of all time becomes nonsense.” In 1991, Sheen left Rada early, because he’d been offered a job he couldn’t turn down. He made his professional debut opposite Vanessa Redgrave in a West End production of Martin Sherman’s When She Danced. Theatre was Sheen’s first love, and his rise was meteoric. From the off, he was cast as the lead in the classics (Romeo and Juliet, Peer Gynt, Henry V, The Seagull) and the 20th-century masterpieces (Norman in The Dresser, Salieri and Mozart in Amadeus, Jimmy Porter in Look Back In Anger).

Sheen was doing exceptionally well when he and his then partner Kate Beckinsale moved to LA for her work in the early 2000s. She was four years younger than him, and already a movie star. Their daughter Lily, now an actor, was a toddler. He assumed that his transition to stardom in LA would be as seamless as it had been in Britain. But it wasn’t. His theatrical acclaim counted for nothing. In 2003, he and Beckinsale split up, but he stayed in LA to be close to Lily.

The first few years, he says, were so lonely and dispiriting. “I found myself living in Los Angeles, there to be with my daughter but just seeing her once a week. I had no career there – it was essentially like starting again. I had no friends and spent a lot of time on my own. It was tough. Slowly I realised how it was affecting me.” In what way? “I remember coming out of an audition for Alien vs Predator, to play a tech geek computer guy with five lines and really caring about it, and then thinking: ‘I can be playing fucking Hamlet at home, what am I doing, what’s this all about?’” He says he’d been so lucky – always working, never having to audition, getting the prize jobs. And suddenly in LA he was an outsider; a nobody.

He and Beckinsale are often cited as role models for joint parenting by ex-couples. In 2016, Beckinsale, Lily and Sheen staged a hilarious photo for James Corden’s The Late, Late Show, recreating the moment of giving birth 17 years earlier. Beckinsale reclines on a kitchen table with Lily sitting between her legs, as an alarmed-looking Sheen stands to the side. Have they always got on well since splitting up? “We’ve had our ups and downs, but we’re very important in each other’s lives. It would be really sad if we weren’t – like cutting off a whole part of your life. I’m not saying it doesn’t have its challenges, and I’m sure it’s been harder for her than for me.” Why? “Because … ” He pauses and smiles. “Because I’m more of a twat!” In what way? Another smile. “I’m not going to tell you that, am I?”

Sheen’s break in America came when he was spotted by a casting director who told him he would be perfect for a new project. Ironically, it was to play former British prime minister Tony Blair in a British TV drama called The Deal, directed by British film-maker Stephen Frears and shot in Britain. The Deal led to Frears’s The Queen, about Elizabeth II’s frigid response to the death of Diana, Princess of Wales leading to a crisis for the monarchy. Again he played Blair, this time riding to the rescue of the royals. The movie was nominated for six Oscars (Helen Mirren won best actress) and he never struggled in America again.

The longer he lived in LA, however, the more rooted he felt to Port Talbot. And the further he travelled, around the world or just in Britain, the better he understood how disadvantaged it was. “If you’re in Port Talbot one day and then the next you’re in a little town in Oxfordshire where David Cameron is the MP, it’s fairly obvious there are very different setups there. And that was connected to a political awakening.” He started to read up on Welsh history. In 2017, he returned his OBE because he thought it would be hypocritical to hold on to an honour celebrating empire when he was giving a Raymond Williams lecture on the “tortured history” of the relationship between Wales and the British state.

He began to reassess his past. “I became more aware of the opportunity I’d had in an area where there wasn’t much opportunity. At a certain point you go, Oh, people are having to volunteer to make that youth theatre happen that I’m a product of.” You’d taken it for granted? “Completely. I was happy to think everything I was doing was because of my own talent and I was making my own opportunities, and as I got older I thought maybe that’s not the whole story.”

In 2016, the long-running American TV series Masters of Sex, in which Sheen starred as the pioneering sex researcher William Masters, came to an end. Lily was now 17 and preparing for college. “I suddenly thought, Oh, I can go home now.” And six years ago he finally did – to Baglan, a village adjoining Port Talbot. Since then he has been involved in loads of community projects.

He mentions a few in passing, but he doesn’t tell me he sold his two homes (one in America, the other in Wales) to ensure the 2019 Homeless World Cup went ahead as planned in Cardiff. Nor does he mention that a couple of years ago he started Mab Gwalia (translating to “Son of Wales”), which proudly labels itself a “resistance movement”. On its website, it states: “Mab Gwalia believes that opportunity should not only be available to those who can afford it. The ambition is to build a movement that makes change.” Its projects have supported homeless people, veterans, preschool children on the autism spectrum, kids in care, victims of high-cost credit, and local journalism, which is a particular passion. “In the early 1970s in Port Talbot, there was something like 12 different newspapers. There are none now. None. Communities don’t feel represented, don’t feel their voice is heard and don’t know if the information they’re getting about what’s going on in the community is correct or not. Those are terrifying things, and without local journalism that’s what happens.”

Perhaps surprisingly, he’s even found time for the day job. Earlier this year, he played Nye Bevan in Tim Pryce’s new play about the founding father of the NHS. He also made his directing debut with The Way, a dystopian, and prophetic, three-part TV drama about the closure of the Port Talbot steelworks that results in local riots spreading across the country. How does he feel about the rioting that has scarred the country in recent weeks? “I feel the same way I think most people do. It was awful and terrifying. I worry about how much a hard-right agenda that has been growing for a long time has moved further and further into the mainstream and has clearly got more connected. It’s frightening.” Does he think the new Labour government can deliver the positive change it promises? “Pppfft.”He exhales heavily. “More optimistic than the Conservatives being in power.” Who did he vote for? “That’s my God-given right to remain a secret, isn’t it? It wasn’t the Tories!”

I ask if he’s in favour of Welsh independence. “I don’t know how I feel about it one way or the other, but I would like there to be an open discussion about everything that entails. The problem is when it gets shut down and you don’t get to talk about it.”

Would he ever go into politics? He looks appalled at the idea. “Oh God, no. No! I’d beawful.”Why?“Because I don’t want to say what other people are telling me to say if I don’t agree with it. Look at all those people who voted against the two-child benefit cap and had the whip taken away from them. That’s bollocks. People say I should go into politics because I’m passionate about things and I speak my mind. But then you get into politics and you’re not allowed to do that any more. I’ve got far more of a platform as myself. I can say what I want to say.”

Fair enough. I’ve got another idea. A couple of years ago he gave an inspired motivational speech for the Wales football team before the 2022 men’s World Cup, on the TV show A League of Their Own. Would he take the job as Wales manager if offered it? He looks just as horrified as the idea of a life in politics. “No!” Why not? “Because it’s a completely different profession. You need to know about football. I played football when I was younger, but I wouldn’t have a clue. Wouldn’t. Have. A. Clue. Just because you can make a speech doesn’t mean you’d be any good at that sort of stuff.” He says he was embarrassed about the speech initially, but now feels proud of it. “Schools get in touch and say, ‘We’ve been studying it with the class.’ I put hidden things in. There are rabbit holes you can go down.” He quotes the line, “You sons of Speed” and tells me that’s a reference to the idolised former manager and player Gary Speed who took his life in 2011. You can hear the emotion in his voice.

I’ve been waiting for Sheen to mention the new TV drama about Prince Andrew. Most actors direct you to the project they’re promoting as soon as you sit down with them. Let’s talk about the new show, I  eventually say.

This is already the second drama about the Andrew interview. Did he know that Scoop, which came out earlier this year, was already in the works? “Yes, I knew before I agreed to do this.” Was it a race to see which would get out first? “There was no race, no. We always knew ours would come out after.” What would he say to people who think it’s pointless watching another film on the same subject? “Ours is a three-part story, so it’s able to breathe a lot more. There’s a lot more to it. In our story, Andrew and Emily are the main characters whereas they were very much the supporting ones in the other one.”

Did it change his opinion of Andrew? “No. It showed the dangers of being in a bubble, having talked about being in a bubble myself! The dangers of privilege.” He talks with sensitivity about Andrew’s downfall. “The thing that really struck me was when Andrew came back from the Falklands there was no one more revered, in a way. I didn’t realise his job was to fly helicopters to draw enemy fire away from the ships. I couldn’t believe they would put a royal in that position, so he was genuinely courageous. He was good-looking, a prince, and had everything going for him. Since then everything has just gone down and down and down.” He’s had so little control over his life, Sheen says. Take his relationships. “He was told he couldn’t be with [American actor] Koo Stark any more because of the controversy. He was essentially told he had to divorce Sarah Ferguson because the royal family, particularly Philip allegedly, was concerned that she would bring the family into disrepute.”

Did he end up feeling more empathetic towards him? “No!” he says sharply. Then he softens slightly. “Well, empathy? I felt I understood a bit more – because that’s my job – about what was going on. But he’s incredibly privileged and has exploited that. It seems like he has a lot taken away from him but probably rightfully so.”

A Very Royal Scandal is like The Crown in that it’s great drama but you’re never sure what’s real. Are Andrew’s lines simply made up? “It’s a combination of research and stories out there, and little snippets and invention.” While Emily Maitlis is an executive producer, Andrew most certainly is not. “Well, that’s the real difficulty for our story,” Sheen says. “On the one hand, you’ve got Emily as an exec, so you know everything to do with her is coming from the horse’s mouth. But everything to do with Andrew, not only is it really difficult to get the actual stuff, also we don’t know what he did.” He pauses. “Or didn’t do.” He’s talking about Virginia Giuffre’s allegation that Andrew raped her, which he denied. In the end, Giuffre’s civil case was dropped after an out-of-court settlement was reached on no admission of liability by Prince Andrew, with Giuffre reportedly paid around £12m.

I had assumed Sheen would be a staunch republican, but he doesn’t feel strongly either way. “There are lots of positives about royals, and lots of negatives.” His bugbear is that the heir to the throne gets to be Prince of Wales. “Personally, I would want the title of Prince of Wales to be given back to Wales to decide what to do with it, and I definitely think there’s a lot of wealth that could be used better.”

The biggest change for Sheen since returning to Wales is his family life. In 2019, he revealed that he had a new partner, the Swedish actor Anna Lundberg, that she was 25 years younger than him, and that she was pregnant. They now have two daughters – Lyra who is coming up to five, and two-year-old Mabli. As well as Staged, the couple have also appeared together on Gogglebox. They look so happy, nestling into each other, laughing at the same funnies, tearing up over the same heartbreakers. She also seems naturally funny. Given that two of his former partners (Sarah Silverman and Aisling Bea) are comedians, have all his exes had a good sense of humour? He thinks about it. “Yes. Yeah, you’ve got to have a laugh, haven’t you?” And he’s always got on well with them after splitting up? “Yeah, pretty much.”

When asked about the age difference between Lundberg and him on The Assembly, he acknowledged that they were surprised when they got together. “We were both aware it would be difficult and challenging. Ultimately, we felt it was worth it because of how we felt about each other, and now we have two beautiful children together.” He also said that being an older father worried him at times. “It makes me sad, thinking about the time I won’t have with them.”

Does being a dad of such tiny kids make him feel young or old? “Both,” he says. “My body feels very old. But everything else feels much younger. I’m 55 and it’s knackering running around after little kids. Just physically, it’s very demanding. And I’m at a point in my life where I’m aware of my physical limitations now. But in other ways it’s completely liberating, and I’m able to appreciate it more now.”

Has he learned about fatherhood from the first time round? “Yeah, I think so. I’m around more now. That’s a big part of it. When Lily was young, I was in my early 30s and doing films for the first time, so Kate would stay in Los Angeles with Lily and I would go off and do whatever.” Did Beckinsale resent that? “I don’t know that she resented it. Kate was doing better than me in terms of profile at the time, so it was different. Given that we then split up and I saw Lily even less, I very much regretted being away as much. So this time I wanted to make sure that wasn’t the case. That’s partly why I’ve set up a Welsh production company. I don’t want to work away from them as much.”

Talking of which, he says, what’s the time? “I’ve got to get back to my kids.”

On his way out, I ask what advice he would give his younger self. He says he was asked that recently and gave a glib answer. “I said buy stock in Apple.” What should he have said? He thinks about it, and finally says he’d have no advice for his younger self. He’d rather reverse the question, and think what his younger self would say to him if he tried to advise him.

“I saw an amazing clip of Stephen Colbert saying your life is an accumulation of every bad choice you’ve made and every good choice you’ve made, and the great challenge of life is to say yes to it. To say, ‘I love living, I embrace living.’ And in order to do that you have to embrace all the pain, all the grief, all the sadness, all the fucking mistakes because without that you don’t have all the other stuff.” He’s on a roll now, louder and more passionate by the word. “And I’d hate it if someone came and went, ‘Don’t do this, no do that.’ Then you just sail through your life. It would be death, wouldn’t it? So I’d tell my older self to go fuck himself.”

[elliesbelle]

nobody compares to you

chapter 12

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, mentions of alcohol, descriptions of anxiety and anxiety attacks, allusions to toxic parents, description of murder (in a joking fashion), flashback scene, some descriptions from ellie's POV, descriptions of marijuana and marijuana usage, allusions to toxic ex-friends, slightly sexual behaviour, minors do not interact

word count: 9.2k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-if if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

“Oh, I don’t know, Abs…” 

“Hey, like I said, no pressure at all.” 

You’re sprawled out on your bed with your homework spread out on your sheets which you’ve completely abandoned as you’d spent the last half hour chatting on the phone with Abby. 

It’s been exactly four days since your night out with her and her friends at the lesbian bar, Bow and Arrow. Exactly four days since unexpectedly you ran into your ex-fling from freshman year, Adriana. Exactly four days since you drunkenly rejected Abby’s sudden and attempted kiss. Exactly four days since you visited the same alleyway where you had your first kiss with Ellie Williams. 

Being the perfect gentlemanwoman that she always was, Abby had insisted on taking you home herself that night. You’d reassured her that you could easily order a rideshare service to take you home if needed, but she argued that it was her fault that you had tequila in your system in the first place and that she’d feel much more at ease if she definitively saw you enter the front door of your apartment with her own two eyes. Her thoughtfulness and persistence won out in the end, and at around 2 A.M., she respectfully greeted you good night as you tipsily crossed the threshold of your apartment. 

As you waved her goodbye, a sinking sense of shame settled at the seat of your stomach. Despite your brush-off to her advances, Abby remained completely sweet and amicable for the rest of the night. Her demeanour didn’t seem to change, though there were no more attempts to steal another kiss from you again. The feeling of remorse soberly persisted into the following day, and you’d remorsefully texted Abby the morning after to offer lengthy sorries for your rejection. Ever a well-mannered woman of honour, she easily accepted your many apologies and, in turn, apologized for attempting to kiss you while neither of you was completely sober. Your “friendship” with Abby remained untainted, much to your relief. 

But now, exactly four days later, you’ve been once again placed in yet another uncomfortable predicament.  Abby had just invited you out to dinner with her that following Friday night at a restaurant called Orchards. Though never having actually set foot in the place, you’d seen just in passing how extravagant and fancy the establishment was. It was never a restaurant you considered ever patronizing, and as Abby attempts to persuade you to accompany her for dinner, you feel your entire body begin to react in complete hysteria. You try to convince yourself that your rapidly beating heart and extreme nausea were merely nervous reactions to being suddenly asked out on an obvious date, not at all from the fact that Orchards is a mere block and corner away from the apartment that Jesse and Ellie shared. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to!” You insist. “It’s just that… I mean, are you sure?” 

“Sure about what?” 

“I don’t know… that you wanna be asking me out on a date.” 

“Doesn’t have to be an official date if you don’t want it to be,” She says. “It can just be two friends going out on a Friday night for a nice dinner together and having a fun time.” 

“At a super fancy restaurant?” 

“Hey, I’m a really good friend.” 

You can’t help but giggle at Abby’s cheekiness. 

From experience alone, you have a gut feeling somehow that if you were to decline Abby’s invitation, she wouldn’t hold it against you. You could choose to once again remain within the sanctuary of your platonic comfort zone, a sanctuary that you’d grown far too comfortable in for the past couple of years. But Abby was genuinely sweet and so thoughtful and incredibly handsome, and she’d been so very good to you so far. Suddenly, wise words from both Dina and Jesse come back to you and echo within your mind. 

“Don’t let her stop you from enjoying your life.” 

“I also think that you deserve to be happy. And unfortunately, that means putting yourself out there.” 

Trying to hold back from letting out an audible sigh, you finally give Abby a reply. 

“Alright.” 

“Oh?” 

“Alright.” You repeat, smiling slightly. 

“Is that a yes?” Abby asks. 

“It’s a yes,” You giggle. “Now whether it’s a friend date or a real date…” 

“Hey, I’ll take whatever I can get,” Abby laughs. “You don’t have to decide now. Hell, you can even decide during dessert while we’re actually at the restaurant.” 

“You’re cute.” You chuckle. 

“Oh, I know.” You swear you can hear Abby’s cocky smirk through the phone. 

“So, Friday at 7?” You confirm. 

“If that works for you. Do you want me to come pick you up from your place?” 

You seriously consider her generous offer. A small part of you knows that there is every chance that you would end up bailing in total anxiety if you weren’t essentially escorted to the date. Part of you also begins to worry that you’d immediately look out of place if you walked in alone without Abby and her usual charm & swagger by your side. But you then remember that Abby’s apartment is only five minutes away from the restaurant and yours was fifteen and in the complete opposite direction; your unrelenting unwillingness to inconvenience her ultimately makes the decision for you. 

“Oh, it’s okay! I can just meet you there.” You exclaim. 

“You sure? I totally don’t mind coming to get you.” 

“Abby.” You say in a playfully stern manner. 

“I know, I know,” Abby chuckles. “You’re a big girl.” 

“Yes, ma’am, I am.” 

Suppressing from loudly exhaling in both relief and tension, you finally remember and notice all of the unfinished homework still laid out right in front of you. 

“Anyway, just text me all the details later. I’ve got a shit ton of homework that I’ve been procrastinating on, and you’ve kind of been sidetracking me from completing any of  it.” 

“My apologies, it was not my intention to be so distracting.” 

“Yes, it was.” 

“Okay, maybe a little.” 

You both laugh. 

“Alright, alright,” Abby complies. “I’ll let you get to it. I’ll see you in the morning?” 

“Don’t you have class at like, 8?” 

“I can skip it so I can walk you to your 9 A.M.” 

“Abigail, go to your classes.” 

“Fine,” She chuckles. “I’ll be a good student, I guess. Always so eager to be rid of me.” 

“Abby Anderson, I swear to god—“ 

“Kidding, kidding!” 

“I’ll text you later, then.” You say. 

“Sounds good. Good luck with your homework.” 

“Thanks. Good night, Abs.” 

“Good night, pretty girl.” 

You tap the red button at the bottom of your screen, subsequently ending the call. 

Sighing, you flop onto your back and stare at your prickly white ceiling. Your eyes zoom in and out of focus as your mind recaps the conversation you just had with the blonde, blue-eyed woman. 

Did I just agree to go out with Abby? 

Do I really want to do this? 

This is gonna be so, so different from the other night. We were with her friends. She’s inviting me out to be with her and only her. 

It’s going to be a date, no matter what she says. 

I don’t even know what the hell I’m doing anymore. 

Am I doing this because I want to do it? Or is it because I feel like I should? 

She doesn’t even know what she’s taking on, trying to date me. She doesn’t know what she’s getting into. She’s way too nice, too sweet for me. 

Can I really do this? 

As your internal monologue quickly fatigues both your mind and your emotions, you nearly pass out before the panic of not finishing your schoolwork jolts you awake once again. 

 “What about this one?” 

“No, it hugs my thighs really weird…” 

“First of all, it does not. Second, why do you even have it in the first place, then?!” 

“Sentimental value, D!” 

You had invited Dina over that Wednesday evening to help you settle on an outfit to wear for your date-not-a-date in two days. You’d finally relented to telling Dina about your situation with Abby and how on the fence you’ve been in regards to starting anything romantic and real with her. To your surprise, Dina was a lot less judgier than you had been anticipating and much more understanding. She was just as supportive as she was the day she came over with the cup of coffee and advice regarding your messy situation with Ellie. She even enthusiastically invited herself over, accurately predicting that you were already far too hesitant and anxious to properly plan for Friday night. 

You snatch the white dress Dina had been holding out for you from her hands and throw it onto your bed. 

“If we can’t find actually anything suitable for me to wear, maybe it’s a sign from the universe that I should cancel on Abby.” 

“The hell it is!” Dina scolds. “You are going on this date, even if I have to go out right now and buy you a whole new outfit myself!” 

“I just don’t think I actually have anything good enough for Orchards! I’m gonna go there and look like a freaking shabby peasant, and Abby will take one look at me and immediately collapse on the spot over how disgustingly and horrifically ugly I look.” You flop onto your bed next to the pile of rejects you’d adamantly denied earlier in the evening. 

“Did you really just say ‘peasant’? What are you, eighty?” Dina rolls her eyes at your dramatics. “And if Abby Anderson passes out on the spot for any reason, it’ll only be because you will be so stunning and gorgeous and ravishing and elegant that she just couldn’t consciously handle your natural beauty.” 

“Oh, shut the fuck up, D!” You laugh, picking up the white dress Dina was holding previously and lobbing it at her face. 

Dina laughs as she effortlessly catches it before placing it back on top of the reject pile. She then saunters back into your walk-in closet to continue examining its contents. 

“Maybe if we build your date outfit from—” 

“Not a date.” 

“—your date outfit from an accessory or a pair of shoes or something. Do you have a pair of heels that you were thinking of wearing?” 

You give her an apprehensive look.

“What do you think, D?” 

“Of course. Be helpful for two seconds, babe.” 

“Ugh!” 

You lift your head slightly to watch her venture further into your closet from the comfort of your bed. 

“I have a whole bunch of other shoes on the top shelf over there,” You say, pointing in the direction of a wall-mounted shelf above your clothes arranged on hangers. “Some of them are still in their shoe boxes, though, so you better put them back properly after and line them up exactly the way I had them.” 

“Anal.” Dina scoffs, smiling. “Why are they still in their boxes?” 

“Some of them were stupid, impulse purchases that I immediately regretted but was too lazy to return,” You explain, dropping your head back onto your bed. “Others are a bunch of ugly and uncomfortable shoes that my mother bought me and that I have to lie about wearing regularly and that I’m definitely not allowed to get rid of, lest she murders me in cold blood with her own two hands.” 

“So when are we going to finally end the miserable existence of that horrible woman again, exactly?” 

“When I figure out exactly how to get away with murder.” 

Dina smirks as she grabs a small step stool hidden in a corner of your closet. 

“Hey, if Barbie Bear had actually come to life when I asked her to all those years ago, you would have been free from that witch’s clutches by now.” Dina huffs as she begins to peek into the shoe boxes neatly arranged on the top shelf of your closet. 

“Speaking of Barbie Bear,” You suddenly segue, still staring up at the ceiling of your apartment. “I still want her back, by the way.” 

“I told you fifty million times already that I don’t have her!” 

“Bullshit,” You counter. “I know I left her at your house summer after freshman year I came home with you guys.” 

“Babe, it’s been like, well over a year now. I promise that I don’t have her, and I seriously haven’t seen her anywhere in my house back home.” 

“I’m planning on pressing charges against you for kidnapping my child and for causing such catastrophic emotional distress as a result of the trauma of many years of motherly separation from my daughter.” 

“Such a fucking drama queen.” Dina chuckles as she continues her footwear search. 

“Dinaaaa,” You whine. “You know that Raf gave her to me—” 

“Uhhh…” Dina abruptly interrupts. “What the hell is this?” 

“What?” 

“What is this box?” Dina asks, climbing down the step stool with something in one hand. 

“Hmm?” You finally rise from your position and prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at what she was referring to. 

Dina slowly emerges from your closet holding something heavy in her hands. It looks like a shoe box at first glance; but upon further inspection, it looks quite different from the other containers that it was previously organized with. Dina reveals a dark blue memory box adorned with intricately drawn vines and flowers. On one side was a tiny strip of paper with the word “El” written in small golden ink. 

Your fingers go cold, your jaw goes slack, and your eyes widen. The absolute panicked expression on your face complements Dina’s expression of complete astonishment. 

“Oh, shit.” You mutter involuntarily. 

“Sooo…” Dina begins. “You’ve got… an Ellie box.” 

Knowing Dina very well, you figure that, at the very least, she already snuck a quick peek at its contents. You sigh, aware that lying to her face would be pointless. 

“Y-yeah. I’ve got an Ellie box.” 

Dina’s mouth drops open even further, and you groan in total embarrassment at her elated squeals of your name laced with amusement and intrigue. 

“An Ellie box!!! Oh my god! Scandalous! Outrageous! Somebody call the Vatican!” Dina exclaims happily, a shit-eating grin wide all over her face. 

“Dinaaaa…” You gripe. “Put it back right now!” 

“Absolutely not, you slut!” She excitedly cries as she plops herself down next to you on the bed, carelessly pushing your pile of discarded clothes further to the side. “This is the best day of my whole life.” 

“Dina!” You smack her arm but make no real attempts to pull the box away from her, knowing you wouldn’t win that very brief fight. 

“You’re the one who still has it!” She points out smugly. “And after you swore to me the other week that you are definitely not in love with Ellie anymore.” 

“I’m not!” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah” She simply waves you off as she removes the lid. “Keep telling yourself that, babe.” 

You fall back onto your sheets, shrouding your face behind your hands in shame as Dina giggles giddily to herself. 

You try in vain to convince yourself that you’d completely forgotten you even had the memory box in the first place, that it was something you’d meant to get rid of ages ago but merely never gotten around to. It was shoved, after all, in between all the pairs of shoes you never touch, always closed and completely neglected. But the brutally honest part of your conscience knows that its continued existence in your closet is a representation of something you desperately try to keep buried deep within the corners of your mind.  

Unable to help yourself, you cautiously peek behind your hands to observe Dina’s extensive inspection of your secret Ellie box. You watch as she picks up several pieces of paper: a faded ticket stub from a show Ellie once took you to of a local band whose music she wanted to introduce you to, a receipt from the time that you and Ellie attended a limited portrait exhibition at a nearby art museum, an unfinished charcoal picture Ellie had drawn of a small field of blooming daisies you’d spotted when you’d gone with her to the woods to freely smoke in secret. 

You try to block out the images the box’s contents were involuntarily eliciting from memories you’d hidden long ago as Dina places the papers back in lieu of a stack of envelopes wrapped together with a thin piece of twine. A gentle smile appears on Dina’s face as she tenderly turns the handwritten letters back and forth between her hands. 

“You know,” She says quietly. “Ellie used to really love whenever you wrote her these letters to her. Jesse and I used to catch her rereading them all the time, even super old ones you’d written her months before.” 

You quickly feel your entire body burn hot with a sweltering sensation that you hadn’t let yourself fully feel in years. 

Fall of Freshman Year 

The university that you’d chosen to reside in for the next four years was chosen partially for its distance away from your hometown, from your parents in particular. Longing to be liberated from their tyrannical control, you applied exclusively to schools that were no less than a hundred miles away. Not a week into your freshman year, however, the guilt of choosing to be so far away from your favourite cousin ate at you every second you were apart. To give Rafael something tangible to consistently remind him of you, you’d send handwritten letters to him through the mail at least twice a month while you attended college. Though you’d chat with him regardless through texts and video on a regular basis, you enjoyed showering him with sisterly love in your own sweet and corny way.  

Ellie was sprawled out on your bed one night while you sat at your rickety, battered student desk. She was busying herself by rolling a few joints, all packed with lavender buds you’d previously provided, and placing them in her metal tin. As she placed the last one next to the others and put another in between her lips, she hopped off your bed and came to hover nosily behind you. 

“Are you really doing homework this late?” 

“Shut up and go finish rolling so we can smoke already.” 

“What are you doing?” 

“Not my homework.” 

“Then what?” 

Ellie curiously leaned over your shoulder and watched the way your hand smoothly and speedily glided over your favourite piece of floral stationary, writing legibly your own blend of print and cursive. To the right of your paper was a small white envelope with both your name and Rafael’s written on the front accompanied by your respective addresses. To the left was a golden stamp seal of a sunflower and a tiny mason jar full of multicoloured wax beads. 

“Are you writing a letter? With your hands?” 

“I mean, how else are you supposed to write a letter, El?” 

“What kind of nerdy ass nonsense—” 

“Go roll our shit, Ellie Williams!” You interrupted, taking a pencil within your reach and flicking it at her. 

She chuckled, blocking it in time before it hit her directly in the face. She placed it back on your desk before picking up the sunflower seal and examining it closely. 

“You’re writing an actual letter, for real?” She asked, her lips still tight with the joint in between her lips. 

“Mhmm.” You hummed. 

“To your cousin?” 

“Yup.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I feel like it.” 

“That’s some shit that only senile, lonely grandmas do on their grandkid’s birthday when they’re sending them fifty bucks in cash.” Ellie teased as she placed the sunflower stamp back on your desk. 

“So, what?” 

“So, you’re even more of a nerd than I thought.” 

“Shut up!” 

“Hey, not my fault that you’re an old lady.” 

“Can you go finish rolling our joints so we can smoke already?” 

“I’m already done, grandma!” 

“Then go away and hush!” 

Ellie chuckled as she leaned against your desk and took out a lighter from a front pocket of her jeans. She moved to ignite the tip of the joint, but you smacked her arm and pointed towards your bed. 

“Sploof, sploof, sploof!!!” You demanded. 

“What? Tara won’t care about the smell. She smells like weed half the time herself.” 

“My RA will notice, though! I don’t wanna get kicked out in my first year of college just ‘cause you’re lazy!” 

“Thought that the whole point of your lavender shit was to mask the weed smell.” 

You didn’t reply and settled for looking at her with a stern glare. She laughed and mockingly held up both her hands in defeat. 

“Alright, alright! Stick-in-the-mud.” 

She walked over to your bed, plopping back down and reaching for the paper towel roll that she’d wrapped securely with duct tape and stuffed with several dryer sheets. After lighting the joint and taking a deep hit, she exhaled deeply into the cylindrical piece of cardboard. Her ocean green eyes remained fixated on you, fixated on concluding your letter. 

“So why are you sending Rafael snail mail? Don’t you guys talk like, almost every day?” 

“We do. But it’s just something I really love doing. Makes me feel connected with him in more than one way, you know?” 

Ellie merely hummed in acknowledgement as you continued your explanation. 

“I used to do it a lot back in high school for the friends I had at the time. Or at least I did until my parents made me stop when they complained about me using up all their stamps.” 

“Dicks.” Ellie chuckled. “Did any of your friends ever write you back?” 

“No,” You said simply. “I totally get it though. We saw each other every single day at school. It makes sense for them not to send some handwritten reply through the mail.” 

Your expression looked completely and genuinely unbothered, but Ellie frowned. 

“That was pretty rude of them.” She pointed out. 

“Oh, it’s okay. I never thought it was. I didn’t do it to get anything back from them or anything. Just did it ‘cause I really cared about my friends and wanted to show that in my way. It was sort of like my own kind of love language.” 

Ellie continued to watch you in total awe as you folded up the stationary and stuffed it into the envelope. You thoughtfully picked out a couple of wax beads from the mason jar, two violet and one silver, and placed them on a tiny spoon that you placed on top of a mahogany wax warmer. You turned around to face her, one hand held out in her direction. 

“Can I borrow your lighter, El?” You asked. 

Ellie, still mesmerized by your routine, blinked in disorientation. 

“Wh-what?” 

“Your lighter, dummy. Can I use it for a sec?” 

“O-oh, y-yeah.” 

She’d completely forgotten about the lit joint still placed between her lips. After quickly inhaling from the cigarette and exhaling into the sploof, she shoved a hand into her jean pocket once again and handed you her lighter. She ignored the subtle electricity that sparked between you when her fingertips brushed against yours. 

She observed the way you carefully lit the white tealight candle inside the wax warmer and stared at the way the beads slowly melted inside the small spoon. Clearing her throat and finally handing you the joint, she leaned back onto your pillows and tried to lighten the mood. 

“So, you’re allowed to a candle in your dorm room, but I can’t even smoke?” 

“Asshole, I’m literally smoking with you right now.” You pointed out before bringing the joint to your lips and relighting the tip. 

“I’m just saying, double standard.” Ellie shrugged. 

“Wh—double standard? Does anything you say ever make any sense?” You asked with tight lips, hysterically flapping a hand in the direction of the sploof next to her on the bed. 

She laughed and quickly handed it to you, once again ignoring that flicker of electricity at your touch. 

“I love being an enigma to all human beings.” 

“Fucking weirdo.” You replied after exhaling into the wrapped paper towel roll. 

Ellie gave you a cocky wink, and you ignored the feverish burning of your cheeks. 

“So,” She began as you suck from the joint once more. “Am I ever going to receive one of these  fancy ass letters of yours?” 

“What? What for?” 

“I don’t know; just wanna see all the fuss is about.” 

“I see you every day, El. We literally live on the same campus.” 

“So, what? I still want one.” 

“You just said it was an old lady activity.” 

“It is.” 

“You’re not helping your case by being mean to me, you know.” 

You handed the joint and sploof back to Ellie and turned your uncomfortable desk chair around to lean back into it and face her directly. 

“You wouldn’t want one, anyway. It’s almost always all corny and sentimental.” 

“I mean, I expected as much. Have you met you?” Ellie gestured to you with the joint between her fingers. 

You playfully stick your tongue at her. 

“You are a rude and blunt asshole, El. Corny and sentimental aren’t really your thing.” 

“Fine!” Ellie jokingly conceded after taking a huge hit of the joint. “I didn’t really want one, anyway!” 

You rolled your eyes at her petulant and whiny expression. Ellie finished off the rest of the joint as you delicately poured the melted wax onto the envelope and sealed it with the sunflower stamp. 

Despite having just made lighthearted fun of you for it, the small smile on Ellie’s lips contradicted her prior teasing. She adored watching you perform such a personal ritual, and she felt special to be given your natural, instinctive trust by comfortably allowing her to witness such an intimate act. 

Out of sheer stubbornness and defiance on your part, you gave Ellie her very own handwritten letter the following day. You found some time during your day to slip it underneath her door in between your classes, and you quickly scampered off before either she or Jesse came home. You were still a bit huffy over her playful teasing the previous night, and you wanted to tease her back in your own way. 

To your slight surprise, Ellie was completely amused and ecstatic by your act of indignation. She eagerly opened the small, white envelope with her name written in golden cursive on the front, carefully avoiding ripping the fancy seal you’d closed the letter with: a forest green wax seal with hints of gold, embellished with a pair of ferns that notably matched that of her forearm tattoo. 

Inside the envelope was a simple, small piece of paper with only seven words written on it: “you are so, so mean to me,”  followed by a tiny sad face. 

You would have never guessed that her silly jabs at your sentimentality would establish a special ritual between you and Ellie. You were entertained by how truly thrilled Ellie had found her first letter that, on a frequent basis, you would sneakily slip formally sealed envelopes under her door or drop them inside her designated mail slot or hide them underneath her pillow with a short handwritten letter inside written in jest. But somewhere along the way, the little inside jokes eventually turned into genuine letters of you enthusiastically talking about innermost thoughts you’d be having at the time or words of loving encouragement when you knew she was having a particularly bad day. Your little confidences only for her eyes that were hidden by different wax seals, whether it be a bumblebee or a daisy or her token ferns, brought her a sense of comfort she could never quite comprehend. 

During that summer after your freshman year, you’d continued to regularly write her letters. But as she began to pull away from you, they never reached her as you became reluctant to actually present them. She sequentially stayed ignorant of their existence after you’d broken it all off with her.

But despite how horribly heart-wrenching the end of the whole affair was, you kept the letters anyway. You’d even composed several letters in the months following as a sorry means to ease your grief, confessing all the sentiments and feelings you wished you could have fully expressed to her but never got the chance to.

Some were furious and indignant over how she had been treating you that summer; others were wistful and nostalgic over the connection you’d believed you had with her but lost completely; each just as miserable as the next. Just as you were so unhealthily attached to the letters previously written to her, you couldn’t bear to throw out these melancholy ones. You settled instead on hiding them away, never meant to be seen by anyone else.

You watch as Dina delicately runs her fingers over the different wax seals you’d used to close the envelopes, a kind but thoughtful look on her face. She sighs before speaking. 

“I really wished things worked out between the two of you, you know. Still do.” 

“I know, D.” 

She turns back to look at you, a sad smile still etched on her lips. 

“Still won’t tell me anything about what happened at the end of that summer? You still never told me and Jess. Hasn’t enough time passed?” 

“It doesn’t matter anymore, babe.” You sigh, shaking your head. 

“I guess not,” Dina says, turning back around to place the letters in the box. “Just wish you’d talk to me about it, even just a little bit.” 

Even now, you feel immense guilt over your unrelenting reluctance to reveal to Dina and Jesse what really transpired when Ellie dropped you off at home after your summer in Jackson. It had been consistently painful over the years not to confide in your closest friends, especially when you know just how badly they’ve always wanted to give you the comfort you so desired. But tarnishing the couple’s view of their childhood best friend after all this time feels pointless and immature, and you know you would never be able to forgive yourself if this subsequently caused a rift between the trio. 

 “I don’t want to have to bring it up again…” Dina asks quietly. “But I just feel like I need to ask you this once more.” 

“What is it, babe?” You reply, already aware of the question that looms obviously and ominously. 

“Do you really believe that you’re not still in love with Ellie?” She inquires. 

“I only have that box in my closet because I didn’t want to keep it at home for my parents to find and make a big fuss over. They barely know of Ellie’s existence in my life.” You respond quickly, making a deliberate attempt to avoid giving her an actual answer. 

“But why do you still even have it in the first place?” 

“Just forgot I even had it in there, you know.” You shrug, getting up from the bed to approach your walk-in closet. “Like I said, it’s stuffed in with all this other shit I never touch anyway. Literally forgot it still even existed until you brought it out just now.” 

Dina watches as you evade her probing gaze by getting up from your position on the bed to rifle through your hung clothes in the closet. She always had an uncanny way of reading people’s emotions, no matter how deeply others attempted to conceal them. Unwilling to let her delve deeper into whatever feelings you had in regards to Ellie, especially right before a date-not-a-date with Abby, you select several random articles of clothing from your closet and hold them up in front of Dina’s face to view. 

“Okay, I feel like these are good contenders for tonight. Which one do you think is classy and fancy enough for Orchards?” 

You take a nervous step through the cherry wood entrance that leads into Orchards, wearing a light purple dress with strappy, silver heels to match. You cling tightly to the tiny handbag between your hands like your life depends on it. Exhaling deeply with your old therapy breathing techniques, you approach the wooden podium stationed several feet from the doorway. 

“Hi, umm,” You utter nervously. “I-I’m still waiting for the rest of my party, but the reservation should be under ‘Anderson’ for 7 o’clock?” 

The host scans the booklet before finding Abby’s name on the list. 

“I-I can definitely wait until she gets here, though! I can hang out in the vestibule. I totally don’t mind at all—” You stammer before the host interrupts. 

“Oh, reservation for Miss Abigail Anderson? I see it right here. Your companion has actually already arrived just a few minutes ago..” 

“O-oh, okay!” You say surprised. “I-I had no idea.” 

“Not a problem, ma’am. She came not too long ago. I can show you to your table if you would like to follow me.” The host replies graciously, grabbing a menu from underneath the podium before escorting you further into the restaurant. 

You tail after him, trying desperately to keep the sound of your heels clicking to a minimum but nearly tripping in the process. 

The interior of the restaurant surpasses the quick glances you’d stolen in passing from the adjoining street. If you had been born and raised to be an upper-class socialite who frequented such fine dining establishments, you’re sure you’d have felt quite at home upon stepping into the place. The tables are all neatly set with white tablecloths and golden napkins folded precisely and neatly at the top of the plates. The maroon Fleur-de-Lis seating is all dimly lit by the modern beaded chandeliers hanging over the patrons. Servers skillfully weave throughout the place, all coordinated in their white button-down shirts and black slacks. Your tiny handbag nearly slips out of your icy grip from how slippery your fingers had gotten with sweat. 

The restless intimidation that the establishment so easily oozed is slightly soothed when you catch sight of a familiar smiling blonde woman standing next to a table by the windows. The anxiety you have been feeling since entering Orchards is then replaced with a different type of tension as your eyes meet Abby’s piercing sky blue ones. 

She’s wearing a muted green shirt with a pair of grey slacks. Her dirty blonde hair is in its usual braid, but it appears looser than it usually is. You try not to stare at the way her muscular arms bulge from her shirt, trying to avert your eyes elsewhere. 

When you reach the table and whisper a “thank you” to the host as he places your menu next to your plate before he walks away, you return Abby’s winning smile with a flustered one of your own. She holds an arm out for you to give her a small, one-armed hug in greeting. 

“Hey, Abs,” You say as you briefly embrace her. “Have you been waiting long? I thought you said we were supposed to be meeting at 7.” 

“Well, I technically made the reservation for 6:45.” Abby replies, grinning at you unapologetically. 

“What the hell, Abby!” You scold, playfully smacking her left bicep before reaching for your seat. 

“I just like being prepared and being earlier than other people.” Abby shrugs, holding her hand out to help you into your chair as she pulls it out for you. 

“Jesus,” You chuckle as you roll your eyes. “Has anyone ever told you how that’s kind of lunatic behaviour, Abigail?” 

Abby merely smirks as she pushes your chair in for you, you murmuring a thanks in response. 

“So, what do you think of the place?” Abby asks as she walks around the table to take a seat in her own chair. 

“For a date-or-not-a-date, this is very extravagant.” You point out. 

“Like I told you before, I’m a really good friend.” Abby shrugs again. “Am I not allowed to treat a friend to a nice, well-deserved dinner?” 

“Abby.” You chide. “There’s no way that I’m letting you pay the whole bill by yourself. I know that this is a pretty pricey place.” 

“Yeah, and I have the money for it. Get whatever you want, pretty girl. What’s the point of having money if you’re not going to spend it on other people?” 

You don’t say anything, settling for merely pursing your lips as you take the neatly folded golden napkin off your plate and place it on top of your lap. 

Orchards being a “four dollar sign” type of restaurant is a partial reason why you remained silent. Not coming from money as Abby does, you’d firmly decided prior to the dinner that you were going to order the cheapest appetizer on the menu as an entrée and that you’d drink nothing else but water. But knowing Abby, she’d order every single dish for you until you actually eat a proper meal, especially after her casual yet firm declaration. 

But as you open up your menu and nervously bite the inside of your cheek, Abby’s last words begin to ring inside your ears. 

“What’s the point of having money if you’re not going to spend it on other people?” 

This was a sentence and philosophy that those around Ellie knew her quite well for. Every food delivery, every coffee order, every glass of vodka cranberry was paid for with Ellie’s hefty dealer income. You didn’t bother arguing with her when it came to it, not towards the end, because it was a pointless fight she would win every time. Despite every eye roll you’d throw her way, your heart would flutter every time you’d get a glimpse of the small, secret smile Ellie donned each time she’d spend her money on someone else. As long as those she cared about were happy, Ellie was happy. 

To see the same kind of propriety in someone else disoriented you, especially someone who has been making her romantic intentions with you quite clear. It’s a trait you so admire in Abby, but a reminder of the auburn-haired woman on a date-not-a-date with another person still pierces something deep within your guts. 

Adamant on keeping your mind off of Ellie for the rest of the night, you busy yourself going through Orchards’ lavish menu. 

“Have you been here before?” You ask Abby as you scan the list of soups and salads. 

“Once,” She replies as she goes through her own menu. “My aunt and uncle brought me here last year for my birthday, and I haven’t stopped thinking about their truffle parmesan tots since.” 

“Yeah? They that good?” 

“Oh, most definitely. I was ready to make love to it right there and then on the table.” 

“Eww! Abby!!” You giggle, squinting your eyes and scrunching up your nose in simultaneous disgust and laughter. 

You and Abby spend the next few minutes on small talk as you finish deciding on your order. Abby is in the middle of telling you about how she nearly elbowed a teammate right in the jaw during her last rugby practice earlier in the week when your phone begins to vibrate from inside your tiny handbag. 

You keep your eyes focused mostly on your companion, intent on being present in the conversation, while your fingers silently fish your phone out of your purse. Your gaze briefly diverts to the lit screen, and your eyebrows furrow when you see that it’s Jesse who’s calling you. 

Quickly pushing down your power button to reject the call for now while you make a mental note to call him back later, you shove your phone back into your handbag. You lean forward further and place your hands underneath your chin to make a show of being attentive, but only a few seconds pass before your phone starts to pulsate within your purse again. 

Suppressing an obvious groan of simultaneous annoyance and concern, you attempt to ignore Jesse’s second call and instead try to listen to the rest of Abby’s story. But when her sky blue eyes distractingly fall onto your purse, you sigh dejectedly and reluctantly pull your phone out once again. 

“Sorry, sorry,” You desperately utter as you reject the call again. “It’s Jesse. Not sure why he’s calling me right now.” 

“You sure you don’t wanna pick up? Might be something important.” Abby asks, eyes full of honest concern. 

“Oh, it’s okay. I’ll just call him back after—” You begin to say as your phone vibrates for a third time, violently begging for immediate recognition in your hand. 

“Don’t worry,” Abby chuckles. “Go ahead and answer it. He’s your friend and I know he’s important to you.” 

“I’m so, so sorry, Abby,” You say, awkwardly scrambling out of your seat with your phone in your hand. “He never, ever calls me like this, so I swear that I’m just gonna see what’s up, and then I’ll come right—” 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Abby interrupts, smiling. “I don’t mind at all, I promise. I’ll be right here. Take your time.” 

“You really are the best, Abs,” You sigh. “If the server comes around before I get back, could you get me the Caesar salad with Italian dressing?” 

Abby gives you another kind smile and nods. You give her a gracious look before dashing towards the direction of the restroom, purposely leaving your purse behind as an unspoken promise of your eventual return. 

You let out a heavy sigh after having swiftly glided through the restaurant and shut yourself in a unisex stall. Getting more nervous by the second, you immediately call the raven-haired man back. His delayed response begins to worry you further while you listen to seven agonizingly elongated rings before he eventually picks up. 

“Oh, hey, my dude! What’s up?” Jesse greets nonchalantly, slightly out of breath. 

“Wh-what—” You stutter, completely befuddled by his casual, unbothered tone. “Is everything all good? Are you okay? Why’d you call me?” 

“What? I didn’t call you.” 

“Jess, you called me like, fifty times just now.” 

“Wait, really? Hang on…” He mutters. “Oh, shit. Huh. I guess I did.” 

“Jesse!” 

“Sorry, dude! My fault for leaving my phone in my pocket while doing squats.” 

“Oh my g—I thought you were dying or something!” You gripe, sighing both in relief and annoyance. 

“Me? Die? Man, I’m indestructible,” Jesse proclaims. “No man can kill Jesse Chang.” 

“Jesus…” 

“Hey, I thought you were on a date, by the way?” 

“I am.” You point out, irritated. “Well, it’s not a date, but… whatever! I’m on it now!” 

“Then what are you doing calling me?” 

“You called me!” 

“Oh, yeah.” Jesse chuckles. 

“Dude!” You huff, clicking your tongue in indignation. 

“Hey, you’re listed as one of my favourite contacts. My phone was somehow compelled to communicate with you tonight for some mystical reason.” 

“I’m gonna kick your ass.” 

You suppress a chuckle at hearing Jesse’s genuine howls of laughter from his end of the line. 

“Alright, alright,” Jesse eventually says. “I’ll let you get back to it.” 

“Thanks.” 

“You’re doing alright, though?” Jesse suddenly asks, his lighthearted tone shifting to a more sincere one. “You feeling nervous?” 

“Always.” You admit. 

“You got this, man.” 

“I-I don’t know, Jess…” 

“Hey, you showed up, which means you’re halfway there already anyway.” 

“I know, I know. I just… I just can’t believe I’m on an actual date. I can’t believe that I’m actually doing this.” 

“I can. You are one foxy, amazing lady who deserves to be properly wined and dined.” 

“Okay, grandpa.” 

“There she is.” 

You allow yourself to chuckle this time, suddenly feeling grateful for Jesse’s accidental buttdials tonight. 

“Thanks, Jess. Needed that a bit, honestly.” 

“I know, bud. Call me or D afterwards? If Anderson isn’t too busy ploughing into you or whatever it is that you lesbians do in the LGBT community.” 

“Shut up!” 

Jesse cackles. 

“Yeah, I’ll call you guys right after.” You promise him. 

“Good. Now get back to your quote-unquote date and enjoy yourself.” 

“I’ll try.” 

“Do or do not. There is no—” 

“Don’t you fucking quote Star Wars to me, you nerd.” 

“Hey, but you recognized it. You’re the nerd.” 

“Whatever! I’ll call you after, grandpa!” 

“You better, young lady!” 

You and Jesse share a laugh. 

“Thanks, Jess. Have fun at movie night with D. Love you lots.” 

“Will do. Love you too, dude.” 

You murmur a farewell before ending the phone call. 

Leaning against the door of the stall and sliding down slightly, the comfort of hearing Jesse’s reassurances slowly dissipates as you think about Abby patiently awaiting your return at your table. You’d been so preoccupied with the anxiety of how the date-not-a-date itself would go that you hadn’t even spared a thought about the aftermath: how is the night going to end exactly? 

You gulp, suddenly aware of the way your silver heels are digging into your ankles. You feel guilty for even entertaining the thought of ending the night and running home to the embarrassing comfort of your bed.  

Why can’t I just fucking give in? Why am I stopping myself? Why am I so scared about how this night is going to end? 

The sound of someone else entering the restroom snaps you out of your thoughts and back into reality: the reality where you are on, what you need to admit to yourself, a date with an extremely handsome, charming woman who is willing to give you what you might just need from a romantic partner. 

A couple more minutes pass where you heavily abuse your breathing techniques before you finally find the courage to pry yourself off the door. You emerge from the stall just as your nameless powder room companion exits. 

You dare look at yourself in the mirror. Surprised to see a little bit of eyeliner smudged underneath your eyes, you quickly grab a paper towel to dab at it. 

Did I really just cry while I was on that phone call with Jesse? Christ, what the hell is wrong with me? 

You nearly poke yourself in the eye from frustration and stare at your tired reflection. The only thing that wills you to leave your restroom refuge is replaying Jesse’s supportive words of encouragement. 

He believes in me. Dina believes in me. 

With that and a heavy exhale, you finally depart the restroom. 

As you finish off the last few crunchy croutons on your plate, you watch as Abby does the same with the French dish she’d ordered that you’d never heard of and had some weird-sounding name that you can’t pronounce. 

“You sure you don’t want dessert?” She asks you, setting down her spoon. 

“Abby,” You say sternly. “You already wore me down into getting an actual entrée and a glass of Moscato. You are not getting me dessert too.” 

“Dinner is just not complete without it!” 

“That is some rich people behaviour that I will not indulge in.” 

Abby laughs as you give her a half smile. In the back of your mind, you’re relieved that Abby’s evening wasn’t spoiled by your impromptu phone call and your slight shift in attitude that followed. She thankfully hadn’t noticed your fingers fiddling with your dress in your lap or your quiet but involuntary tapping of your right foot underneath the table. The more the evening progressed, the more anxious you became about the possibility of her eventually noticing your fidgeting. 

After the dessert flan she’d ordered is placed in front of her, Abby takes a small bite and lets out a moan of satisfaction. 

“I love me a good flan.” 

“That good, huh?” 

“Fucking amazing. Here, try some.” 

“Oh, no. You already tried to feed me your weird ass French dish from earlier. Besides, I’m way too stuffed already.” 

“All you ate was a Caesar salad!” 

“It was huge! It was Olive Garden-sized!” 

“Just have a bit of the flan!” 

“You ordered it! I don’t wanna eat something that you ordered for yourself!” 

“Come on, pretty girl. Just a bite!” 

You groan at her insistence. 

“You are absolutely ridiculous, Miss Anderson.” 

“Completely. Now open up.” 

You lean across the table as Abby meets you halfway with a piece of flan on a fork. She delicately places it on your tongue, her sky blue eyes meeting yours. 

Your throat swells up with nervousness and you feel short of breath as your chest tightens. You move to sit down from how dizzy you’re getting, but your eyes widen as Abby’s thumb suddenly brushes against your jaw. 

“Hang on. Some of it is dripping down.” 

Abby’s tongue involuntarily sticks out as she wipes away the syrupy caramel from your chin. Your eyes widen as your lips turn a shade paler than usual. 

Oh, god. Oh god oh god oh god. 

“U-uhh, um, th-thanks, Abs.” You stutter as you clumsily take your seat. 

“No problem,” Abby says, a corner of her lip cocking up in a half-smile. “Don’t need you all sticky.” 

 Your breath catches in your throat and you feel a tingle travel from the crown of your head all the way down to your heel-strapped ankles. Abby smirks slightly as she sips from her Old Fashioned, smugly leaning back into her chair. 

Oh, god. 

Being the natural gentlemanwoman that she is, Abby holds the door open for you as you step out of Orchards and onto the street. 

“Ladies first.” She says playfully. 

“Oh, stop.” You chuckle. 

Abby grins as she gives the host by the podium a parting, thankful wave. 

Teetering back and forth on your feet and playing with the sound of clicking your heels were making, you nervously stare up at the night sky. When you had been making your way to Orchards earlier in the evening, the sun was still descending in the west and casting a beautiful, pink hue through clusters of cumulonimbus. Now, the sky is clear of any clouds, and the moon in its waning phase along with the constellations dimly light the quiet downtown area of this college town. 

Suddenly spotting a few celestial patterns that looked all too familiar from a face you’d been trying to put out of your mind all night, you tear your eyes away from the stars to meet Abby’s sky blue eyes. 

“H-hey,” You hesitatingly start. “Th-thank you for tonight. This honestly was really nice.” 

“Oh, yeah? I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” 

“I really did, Abs,” You smile. “I haven’t had a nice, ritzy night like this in a while. Actually, I don’t know if I’ve ever had a really fancy night like this before.” 

“That so? Might have to take you out on dates like this more often, if that’s the case.” She pauses for a second, the usual confident expression on her face fading to be replaced with one of uncertainty. “Or… well, not a date exactly—” 

“Abby.” You giggle. “This was clearly a date.” 

“Yeah? So you finally decided?” Abby asks, her usual swagger back. 

“We got all dressed up and went to a very nice, swanky restaurant. You insisted on paying the entire bill and everything.” 

“Hey, that’s what friends do.” 

“Are we?” You ask, turning to completely face her. 

“What?” 

“Friends? Just friends?” 

“Hmm…” Abby hums. 

She takes you by surprise as she pulls you closer towards her by the hips. You stumble on your heels, catching yourself by your hands on her sturdy chest. You look up, meeting her bright, blue eyes that contradict that of the starry, shadowy sky. Fingers involuntarily clutching at her shirt, you gulp an anxious whimper down your tight throat. 

“What do you want, pretty girl?” Abby whispers. 

Your fingertips grow cold against her chest. 

“I-I-I’m— I don’t—” 

“Oh, hang on. Hold still.” Abby suddenly says. 

Her hand comes up to your face and her long fingers gingerly brush against your nose. She pulls her hand back, clutching something in between her fingers. 

“Got a loose eyelash.” She says, holding up for you to see. “Make a wish.” 

You entertain her and firmly close your eyes. You try racking your brain for a wish worth making to immediately come to you, but no desire materializes. 

So instead, you ask the universe for a vague, ubiquitous wish: for it to divinely and kindly lead you down the right path. 

You open your eyes and softly blow the eyelash out of Abby’s fingers. You lose sight of it instantly as Abby parts her pointer and thumb to release it into the open air. 

Abby brings her hand up once more, this time to caress her fingers across your cheek. Every inch of your body suddenly goes up in flames, and you’re almost surprised that Abby hasn’t retracted her hand from the pure heat of it. 

“Thank you for coming out with me tonight.” She says seriously. 

“O-of course, Abs.” You whisper. 

“I know you’ve been hesitant about things, and I won’t pry on why—” 

“It’s really gonna nothing to do with you, Abs, I promise—“ 

“No, no, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me if you don’t want to. I don’t want to push you on it.” 

You swallow. 

“But I just want you to know,” Abby continues. “I do like you, you know. A lot. I think you’re seriously so smart and silly and so, so stunning .” 

“Abs, be serious—” 

“I am.” 

“Y-yeah?” 

“Yeah. So if you ever wanna give me a chance, I’m right here. I’m ready for anything you want.” 

You gulp. 

“I-I’m not sure… not sure if you’re ready for all this. All of me and my baggage.” 

She takes your face between both her hands. 

“I’m ready for anything, pretty girl.” 

Before you know it, Abby’s mouth is suddenly on yours, enveloping you in a kiss. It’s soft and gentle, like she’s deliberately being mindful of how she touches you. 

You’d expected this the second her skin made contact with yours, but your body still reacts in complete surprise. You don’t kiss her back just yet, everything in you completely stuck in place. Your hands have an impulse to push her away, but a voice inside you begins to cry out. 

Kiss her! Kiss her the fuck back! Kiss her now! 

Fingers finally moving from their frozen state and grasping at her chest, you begin to kiss her back with hesitant fervour. 

The second your lips begin to move with hers, her delicateness turns into zeal. Her hands fall back down to your hips, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you even closer. You can feel her heartbeat pounding next to yours, drums sounding together unsynchronized but thundering. You let out a sudden and soft moan, and Abby deepens the kiss. 

She parts her mouth slowly and you feel her tongue against your teeth. You whimper when she starts to suck on your bottom lip as a hand comes up to clutch your hair. As you wrap your arms around her neck, you open your mouth slightly to invite her in further. 

After what feels like hours of you two intimately intertwined, you break the kiss to catch a much-needed breath. 

You open your eyes to meet Abby’s sky blue ones, even brighter than they were before. Her smile is wider than you’ve ever seen it, emanating a radiant glow. 

 “Th-that was…” She began. 

“Y-y…” You try to say, but you can’t seem to find your voice. 

Her hand brushes against your cheek once more as you feel your throat begin to close up once more. 

W-wait. My throat. It’s actually— 

Before you can muster any words, you feel your breathing stop completely and the entire world suddenly goes black. 

author’s notes:

BELLE FINALLY POSTING AFTER MONTHS OF NO NCTY?! A MIRACLE

thank you for bearing with me during these past couple of months. i know many of y'all have been waiting very patiently, and i hope this chapter was worth the wait!

in true belle fashion, orchards is named after a restaurant that already exists in the games

reader's ellie box is totally not inspired exactly by the box i used to have for my ex-girlfriend, described exactly the same way and contained a whole bunch of stuff like the tickets from when we went to moma and the playbill when we went to see waitress on broadway....

mentions of daisies is because they symbolize innocence (also one of my fave students is named daisy)

ahhh sploofs. such flashbacks to when i lived with live-in ex at her dormitory in college. those were so annoying to make.

reader's love for writing handwritten letter is inspired by my own love for it. i write my friends letters all the time and seal them with cute wax seals. i have like, at least 15 different wax seals and i love them all. yes i do have a fern wax seal too. also reader has a sunflower seal bc it is my fave flower

reader's dress is purple for symbolism cause purple sometimes represents anxiety which... mood

the truffle tots are just a fun little reference to these truffle tots that my live-in ex and i get every time we go to this one gay bar, that shit is so fucking good

more of reader and ellie's relationship bc i love jesse but also i think a show of a healthy, platonic relationship between a lesbian and a straight man is important

jesse's line about never dying is a little heehee reference to the game obvi but also him saying that no man can kill him is like that lord of the rings line where eowyn says "i am no man" cause abby is obviously a woman lol

abby is eating flan bc i love flan (leche flan to be exact)

heehee leave some theories in the notes or in y'all's tags on what happened to reader at the end

love y'all so so much. chapter 13 is mostly written so stay tuned for an upcoming update very soon...

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @ valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete

@ softbunlvr, @cherriesxinthespring, @amitycat, @thefishymissy, @yevheniiaaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam, @ elliesnumber1gf, @digit4lslut, @ tayyyystan, @emothurman

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[thezombieprostitute]

The Arrangement - Chapter 1

Summary: Jake's done a lot of things to keep his sister, and then his niece, safe from his parent's influence and manipulation. If he wants to keep them safe, he has to marry you.

Warnings: Bad parents, Discussion of murder and physical abuse. Let me know if I missed any!

Prologue -- Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

Jake made sure to put on a suit he knew was "nice enough" for the meeting. Clay would be going with him, helping him secure the deal he needed to keep Sarah and Jadah, his real family, safe, never to be messed with again. The rest of the Losers were keeping an eye on them to make sure his parents didn't try anything while negotiating. Aisha and Cougar were some of the best fighters he knew and Pooch could easily drive his family to a secure area.

"So why did you think you needed to get your sister out of the marriage," Clay asked. "I get your parents are pieces of shit, but wouldn't a marriage get her away from them?"

"Nope," Jake shook his head as he drove. "Not only would it further embed them into her life, the guy she was engaged to was a monster. I did a deep dive on him when the engagement was announced. He had a bunch of arrests for domestic disturbance, but his parents, his lawyers, got him out and always settled out of court. Apparently his parents figured marriage would help him calm down. I tried to call bullshit, got shut down, and took action."

Clay nodded, silently filing away the information, before continuing. "And you're now going to marry his sister?"

"Yup."

"What do you know about her?"

"Very little," Jake confesses. "Graduated with a Master's in Ecology with a focus on Conservation Studies. Doesn't seemed to have used it so either her family refuses to let her do anything or she just wanted to waste her parents' money, or something else."

"Going for a Master's doesn't indicate an interest in wasting money," Clay pointed out.

"Agreed, but I've got so little information on her I'm inclined to just go ahead and think the worst."

"Are you expecting to meet her when we get there?"

"Negotiations with the parents first," Jake tells him. "If that goes well, then...yeah, it'll probably be a family dinner or something."

"Alright, lets get to it, then."

"Jacob!" Cordelia, Jake's mother, was using her fake happy tone as she held out her arms for a hug. He purposefully avoids the hug and goes for a handshake instead.

"Don't be rude, son," William chides. Jake holds back from glaring at his father and focuses on maintaining his composure.

"Let's just get to business," Clay offers while taking a seat at William's desk.

"And who are you?" William raises an eyebrow at Clay.

"For all intents and purposes, I'm your son's advocate here to make sure he gets what he wants outta this deal. And that it gets put into writing and notarized."

"And what is it that you want, Jacob?" Cordelia's tone was now icy. "We're setting you up with a wife from a good, rich family. You should be grateful to us for that after nearly destroying our future."

"I want a written, notarized guarantee that, so long as I am married to this woman, Sarah and her family will be left alone. You will not look for them. You will not include them in your machinations. They will never have to worry about you or your people bothering them ever again."

"I'm sure we can work something out," William nods. "Good thing I've already got my lawyer here to go over the marriage documents."

The next several hours are spent with Clay and the family lawyer going back and forth over the wording of the official document. Jake is increasingly grateful that he brought in Clay for this part. He's a quick thinker but Clay is a tactician. He can see the loopholes, the workarounds that Jake can't. His parents attempt to engage him in conversation but Clay had advised Jake to keep quiet during the negotiations so he did. Occasionally texting the team with updates.

Finally, Clay and the lawyer shook hands. The deal is typed up and printed. Jake, his parents, Clay and the lawyer all sign. The notary had arrived an hour before, called by William. They looked everything over and added their stamp to the documents.

Jake took the contract, put it in an envelope and gave it to Clay before turning to his parents. "Okay, let's go meet my future wife."

Prologue -- Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness;@ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly

[lalalalupia]

OK so yeah Lore dump about my AU..(beware that subjects can change in the future.)

This is going to be a long long ride with some pretty arts along the way.

let’s start with what is this AU? :

Prime demons / Prime demon glitch is what if Prime defender boys set in a world of horror and they are monster instead of yk like in canon.

first of need to clarify that, the world setting is like in canon but with a little twist that dead star did rift half of prime make it some kind of apocalypse dystopian world where the abyss(monster) come up of the rift and people who interact with it get infected.

However, before the coming of dead star Prime originated had its magic user mutant that originated in its planet ( witch + ghost and stuff.) After the founding of Watch, they selected a few mutant by themselves to raised them to be the new generation of PF ( like in canon)

However Watch in this AU…is not overall good guy. And PF and PD in this universe is not treated as good as in canon. It was more like a grey area operation..only Dakota that still believes they are heroes.

And for the boys I did need to separate them into their own section. Let’s start with William the Ghost.

For the better understanding of the overall plot.

William did died from the fall, but with a little twist that he is actually got stabbed and push by someone before the falls.

He did have some power like the original, However it did come from the previous whisperer that give it to him when Wiwi is dying. In an attempt to escape Mal. He vows himself that he would solve who killed him and another children in dead woods.

For Dakota :

Some changes in his plot a little bit for the angst ( first of all he and William is a childhood friend before Dakota parents died in an *accident* ) and he moved in with his aunt in new haven.

however, one time when he went hiking with his friends. They got attacked by the abyss bear, Dakota tried his best to save his friend but failed his friend was mauled to death and so does he.

But In his dying state he saw a a big wolf came in and destroyed the bear. and he also saw a boy that looks just like william with it. The wolf bit Dakota results in its saving his life.

Like in Canon Dakota falls into state like coma, but in here he and the wolf did talk and train together( it is actually master cole ) and in the end the wolf told him to go find the new whisperer at deadwood and never trust watch.

When he woke up. Like in canon he is the one who admit his aunt to rehab. And due to complications issues his aunt is the one who sign his guardianship away to the Watch for she can no longer take care of him anymore which results in he went to look for william.

*Side note he has some complicates feeling about watch but still believe in them as heroes, he just needs time and talk with william first*

He then find out William is missing...heart broken he went into the woods where he and William usually go together, somewhere only they know...there he meet William Wisp welcoming him home

Not knowing what happened or what will happen next Dakota and William join finally together again. However, they are not quite alone for William met someone new and Dakota bought Watch here in dead woods as well without knowing. But in the good side they got each other.

[ another Vyncent lore dump will be here soon. ]

[sleepyangelkami]

PASTORS DAUGHTER I e.williams

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 5.8K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - ellie williams had always been best friends with the pastors daughter, the rebel who went against every single thing her mother and father told her to. Ellie knew this, she was used to this. However, what she wasn't used to, what she seemed to never understand was her little sister. She never crossed a line, adored anything and everything thrown in her clutch, never made her mother or father frown and wore a pretty silver cross around her neck. ellie williams wanted nothing more than to rip it off and have the pasters daughter whimpering beneath her. she didn't know a little lust could create this mess.

 ☆ WARNINGS - intended lower case, implied smut, suggestive themes, innocence kink, size kink?, argument with parents, yelling, homophobia, religious 'trauma'?, slow burn, use of y/n, sisters best friend trope lmao. I don't know much about rules or whatever in religion but we're not gathered here to read about jesus because we worship ellie williams!!!

series masterlist

ash/ashley = older sister btw!

ellie williams still remembered the exact moment she laid eyes on you, y/n l/n, her best friends little sister. It was christmas and ashley had dragged her to this stupid holy party, it was the church that was organising it so it was mandatory that ashley be there to celebrate the birth of jesus alongside her father who had done the mass. she had done everything in her power not to be there but her parents had enough of her scandals and 'shaming' the family name. she forced her to come with the simple permission that she would be allowed to bring a plus one, as if the whole town weren't already coming. ellie remembered laughing in her face earlier that night, stating that she should have a good time by herself but by no means would the girl be joining her.

and yet there she stood at one of the back walls of the church.

she pulled her flannel closer to her figure, ignoring the way the winter air continuously made her shiver. she watched as ashley conversed with an older couple, and with everything in her ellie attempted not to burst out laughing at how out of place she looked. her parents had forced her to converse with the guests, stating it would be rude if she had ignored them and ellie simply waved her off stating she'd be fine against one of the walls. ellie williams knew the pastor and his wife hated her already so who was she to keep them waiting? she simply held a snarky grin with a quick 'father and mrs. l/n.' as a greeting.

"if you're cold, we have hot coco."

the sound of a girl's voice almost made ellie williams fall over, however, she stabilized herself against the teal wall behind her with chipped paint. "what?" no doubt her voice had come out much ruder than intended due to the fright she had gotten.

but then she turned and she saw it. she saw you. you were dressed in a little red dress, ultimately a lot more festive than she. your hair was pinned back but not all of it, a lot still sat at your shoulders, almost covering that pretty silver chain you wore, a holy cross pendant on it. it didn't take ellie much after that, your sweet tone, your mary jane shoes, the way your fingers fiddled with one another in slight worry. she knew then and there she had to absolutely ruin you. "well, i just meant that if you wanted to get a little warmer, we're giving out hot coco over there b-but you don't have to." suddenly your voice was quieter, much more anxiety filled in it as you worried you may have upset the girl, your father was always telling you how you spoke too much.

and as apologetic as ellie was, as she wanted nothing more than to instantly let an apology tumble from her lips, instantly state that you were not the reason she was using such a tone, that it was merely the fact she hated everything in this goddamn church, she was interrupted before she could utter a word. "well, i see you've met the prize possession of the family." ellie whipped around to see ashley practically by her side, leaning against one of the old wooden chairs. "ellie meet y/n, my little sister, and y/n this is ellie." little sister? ellie had heard all about you. about how you were practically a pastor yourself, how you devoted your very life to god, got at least nineties in every single test, how you outshone ashley l/n in just about everything you did and yet somehow she loved you more than anything in the world.

and of course you had heard about ellie williams, how could you not have? she was a delinquent. if you hadn't heard about all of ellie and ashley's amazing adventures, filled with alcohol and ciagrette's, you would have known her from school. of course, she'd never notice a girl like you, in a grade below her, head always down in the hallways and clutching your bag as if it were a safety net. but ellie williams, everyone knew ellie williams. she was either beating up some kid who 'deserved it' or snapping at a teacher with a raised voice. nonetheless, you always steered clear of the girl. your parents had a morbid distaste to the girl, you knew that much and yet every time she came knocking at the door, she was allowed into the house instantly and appointed up to your older sisters bedroom. everytime she had been there you were either at choir, an after school club or sitting out in the backyard, maybe once or twice in the living room. whatever the case, she was in the house, grabbing your sister and back out of there, she never had time to stick around and meet you.

ellie's sage eyes sunk down to your silky thighs and how your puffed out red dress flowed around them perfectly, then her eyes racked up to where your chest was, completely covered by the red fabric, she couldn't help but wonder what you wore underneath. however, you were her best friends sister, that certainly... complicated things. she was brought back to life at the sight of your shiny silver cross. "nice to meet you, y/n, heard a lot about you." and suddenly the two girls giggled as if it were an inside joke. you hated being the joke.

your doe eyes turned up at your sister, worry stricken features. "she's fuckin' with you, y/n/n." nickname tumbling from her lips easily as she spun around to face ellie, her arm being tossed over your shoulder. ashley was slightly shorter than ellie, however, you were a great deal shorter than your sister. it made ellie wonder just how bigger she was. she wondered how her hands would fit in your own, pinning you down, how they'd caress and squish your pudgy thighs together. she wondered how small you'd look beneath her. suddenly, she was thinking of every sound you could possibly make and god she tried hard not to show it on her face.

her dirty thoughts were cut short with the sound of your name being spoke briskly yet swiftly, a hint of authority in the sharp tone. you snapped your head to the side to see an awaiting mother of yours, standing with two candle sticks. "what's up her ass now?" ashley questioned, giving her mother a strange look. it was no secret that the girl simply found her own parents insufferable. and even with her tone, you managed to ignore her crude words especially in the 'house of god', you were very much used to your sisters language. (not that you approved)

you swallowed briefly. "i promised daddy i'd light the candles for 'em." and yet you yawned as you spoke, hand coming up to rub at your eye. you were tired. and while everything in ellie was fighting with her to all but coo at your tired face she couldn't deny the way she swallowed harshly at the sound of the word 'daddy' tumbling from your lips. you were so fucking innocent. the brunette girl was rolling up her sleeves, puffing out air and fawning that the weather had taken a certain change as if she weren't completely hot by her own corrupt mind. but how could she not? when your white stockings stood out so prominently and your fingers wound together, despite the two little thin silver rings, one with a butterfly the other with the smallest of hearts with a little pink stone. you turned back to ellie, eyes boring into her own sage green ones. the moon, the stars and even the light snow that had begun falling did everything in their might to tear your eyes from her and yet you just stared. "uhm— it was really nice to meet you, ellie, i hope to see you around more often." noticing the impatient look in your devil like mothers eyes.

"you too, sweetheart." it just came out.

eyes wide from all you, ashley and ellie. belive it or not, but the girl had surprised even herself. with blushing cheeks and secretive eyes you shared the pair one last glance before rushing off. ellie williams did nothing but stare. she stared at the way your hair bounced off your back, the way your dress lifted up as you walked with a pep in your step, attempting to get as close to your mother as fast as humanly possible. she stared. dazed. "dude. what?" ashley practically shoved ellie to get her attention, a confused look on her face as she raised a brow.

"is your sister gay?"

"shut the fuck up."

gay? you? the most religious girl in the whole town? it was a funny assumption, something that ashley could only deem humorous. and while ellie laughed along with the girl, fixing her sleeves with a grin on her face, she couldn't deny the way her eyes drifted back to you, a wide smile etched to your own face, smiling from ear to ear at one of the younger boys who was asking you a question about something religion related. ellie williams hated nothing more than people preaching and preaching about a god she didn't care an ounce for, but for you... for you she thought she may just listen until your dripping words went dry.

that was the night that ellie williams set eyes for y/n l/n and never looked back.

you couldn't deny your own infatuation for the girl yourself. you began to notice the days she came over, how she began to linger in your house, spend dinner with your strange family, how she began to sleep over at least twice a week. you brushed it off for simple admiration, almost envy. you were a girl who was simply caught in the bubble, there you were safe. but something about ellie was so... dangerous, enduring. she lived freely, with a grin in her face wherever she went, she cockily spoke in front of a crowd, one in which she could easily point out your eyes.

she was in another squabble with one of the teachers. it was the male physical education teachers who wore the very same pair of tracksuit end shorts every day. you had merely been a bypasser, books clutched to your chest tightly as you ignored absolutely everything around you. you often tuned yourself out in school, it was the only realistic way to get by. you recited a quote from a book in which you had read that previous night. if you were being honest, you hadn't even noticed the commotion in the hallway, until, that was, a sound of a voice rung out. "y/n." your head snapping towards ellie who had teachers surrounding her, a disappointed look on all their faces, some kids videoed the interactions, others laughed, most kids stopped to see what was going on at least. her greeting had caught you off guard. "how ya doin'?" a grin planted on her lips as she bent her head down at you. your eyes were as wide as saucers as random looks were thrown your way by teenagers you had never even met. it was no secret that y/n l/n was the 'good girl' of the school, how couldn't she be when she spent every day inside a chapel, she was laughable. some kid's brows furrowed and suddenly you could hear everyone whisper your name in confusion to one another. Mr. Lionel, the english teacher and your personal favourite of the school, grasped ellie's arm and attempted to shove her into the classroom they were standing out of. you watched with wide eyes as he slammed the door shut. "you can't legally do that!" you heard the muffled shout of ellie williams who was undoubtedly speaking of the fact the teacher put his hands on her without so much as asking.

you whipped around, ignoring the varying stares and hard gazes, head bound downwards.

but that didn't mean that you were necessarily ashamed to know ellie williams let alone have befriended her, no, you were beyond proud. "you're so cool." you admired in a dazed state.

"aren't I just?" your sister boasted as she showed off her black nails. she glanced over at you, your head resting in your arms that rested on the table, simply watching her in admiration. "you know, you could always come with us." she was meeting with ellie and going to another party. it was a wonder if your parents knew and just decided to ignore it.

your brows raised so high they almost reached your hairline. "me? a party?" giggling as your own sister rolled her eyes with a grin on her face, the idea did sound stupid now that she thought back on it.

"true." pocketing the black nailpolish. "run along i'm sure you have just about everything to do in that shitty little church."

your smile faltered but you fixed it instantly, not wishing to ruin the mood. this was your problem, you were too damn emotional. "tell ellie i said hi." as you stood from the kitchen table, grasping a hold of your small white handbag, you truly did have things to be doing.

"i will." smiling up at you. "see you later, y/n/n." you bid your goodbye then with the tiniest of simpers but as soon as you shut the front door with a small frown etched to your face.

you loved being so involved in your religion, you did, but it was times like this that you truly hated it. you wanted to go out with ellie and ashley. you wanted to make friends, you wanted people not to be scared of getting too close to you seeing as you were just too involved with your religion, you wanted a life that didn't revolve around the church you seemingly always found yourself in.

"you're so fucking stupid!" giggling wildly as she laid her back against the bed, long hair falling down beneath her face.

"you would have done the exact same thing!" ellie defended with an accusing finger being pointed at ashley who was much higher than her.

steam filled the room so much so that ellie could see how condensation was building up on the windows of ashley's bedroom. "i would have ran in the opposite direction, are you kidding me?" flipping over so she was laying on her stomach, laughing at her best friend who was sat with her legs crossed across from her. ellie liked having a best friend that was straight, this way no feelings ever got muddled up. besides, ellie would rant all she pleased about girls and ashley could only do it ten times more about the boys she's been with. then again, it was sad that they'd never get to see the preacher and his wife's face when they said that one of their daughters was gay. they'd often make jokes about how if ellie was a l/n she would have been disowned by now, ellie thanked the moon and stars that joel miller couldn't care less about jesus. the sound of a door opening from downstairs caused the girls to freeze. "shit!"

"ashley!" ellie complained as they both jumped up, slamming the windows open and doing everything in their will to get the goddamn smell out. "you said they had church duty until eight." if mr or mrs. l/n found ashley and ellie smoking weed in their house, there was absolutely no telling how bad this would go.

"they do!" she argued, pulling her sleeve down her arm so she could wipe away the condensation from the window. ellie pushed imaginary air out the window as if it were doing anything. they were still much too high for any of this. it was what hotboxing did to you. filling the room with smoke so you could get even more high, now thinking about it, it was sort of a stupid idea. the sound of footsteps growing nearer caused the girl's heart rate to speed up by a thousand. "shit, shit, shit."

the door knob twisted and ellie and ashley plopped onto the bed, ashley with the joint behind her back. "ash, do you ha-" you stopped mid sentence, mid opening the door, mid walking right in. your face cringed. "what's that smell?" not bothering to ask your sister before picking up her can of vanilla air freshener in which you had gifted her after stating her room had smelled as though she let a skunk inside a couple of weeks ago.

the girls sighed, deflating in relaxation as ashley pulled the joint out from behind her back. "weed." taking a drag of it to ease her previous nerves.

"oh." you tilted your head, watching the two girls sitting on the bed. ashley passed the joint to ellie who instantly took a drag. their hair was dishevelled and tousled, both their hoodies discarded and eyes red as ever, pupils blown large. "is that why you look like you're crying?" ashley nodded. "oh."

ellie took a long drag from the joint, looking your frame up and down. you were dressed in a summers dress, her favourite, it was white with little lilac flowers littered around the fabric, a woollen purple cardigan hanging over your frame too. her eyes moved down to your thighs, you seemed to notice and did something that made ellie almost groan. you squeezed them together, clearing your throat. instead, she smirked, poor baby, you didn't even know what was wrong. ellie knew the feeling well, it was the same feeling that left her in her bedroom on many nights with her hand between her legs, the image of you caught in her mind.

"thought you were at church with mom and dad." the church had a thousand events for the community a week and you were always there but this time, you shook your head.

"me, ruth and maxine went to the movies." you moved so you could open up your sisters wardrobe, she made no attempt to argue.

"ruth and maxine? those girls you were talking to in school?" you nodded, picking at her unfolded clothes. ruth and maxine were two known lesbians, it was a wonder how your parents let you hang out with them, there was only one solution to the question, they didn't know.

"whatcha lookin' for, sweetheart?" passing the joint to ashley. the girl was used to ellie's nicknames for you, she learned to tune herself out. ellie leaned forward, elbows to her knees to crane her neck in attempts to glance into the wardrobe. half the clothing were her own, she may be some use, she may not.

your cheeks reddened at the petname. "ash took my yellow shirt." sending a playful glare towards her sister who simply blew smoke out, rolling her eyes. ellie assumed it was the one you adored more than anything, tight short sleeved light yellow and always clinging to your body. yeah, ellie couldn't forget something that looked that good on you.

"i know how you feel, ashley's always stealing my clothes too." an accusing glare being sent her way.

ashley threw her hands in the air. "why are we hating on me right now?" ellie sent you a glance with brows raised that had a small giggle falling from your lips. "and y/n/n i'm pretty sure i left it at sofia's house." you turned to give her an unamused look. "i'll get it back, promise."

you nodded and began picking up the few articles of clothing you had left drop. you folded them before adding them on top because unlike your sister, you wanted her room to be clean. you picked up one of the larger shirts and flipped it around. "this is so cool!" it was a dark grey shirt that looked much too big to fit you and had a skeleton design to make it look as though someone was looking inside your chest and stomach.

ellie turned her head up to look at it. "oh, that's mine." she stated, realising that it was her shirt that she had left too many sleepovers ago. she bit down on her bottom lip watching the way you seemed in awe of her clothing. "you can have it."

your eyes went wide, biting down on your bottom lip. "oh, no i can't take it." suddenly feeling a little embarrassed, you didn't wish to steal her clothing.

"no, seriously, ashley takes my clothes all the time." again, ashley rolled her eyes. "seriously, i don't wear it anymore." truth be told, she couldn't remember the last time she had even seen that shirt.

"are— are you sure?" you mumbled behind the fabric. you really did like the shirt.

ellie didn't stay over that night, joel had stated that he wanted another movie night and who was she to refuse? however, she did decide that the next night would certainly be spent at the l/n household. joel approved, somewhat. he had met ashley a too many times to count and he truly did like her, he thought that she and ashley were very alike and he liked that. he didn't care for the l/n family, not the mother and father at least, he had heard many stories of what they were like from ashley and that was certainly enough to keep him away. however, on the times that he went to gatherings or even mass like on christmas, when he felt obliged to, he saw you, y/n l/n and every time he questioned ellie why she didn't bring you over to the house. she always stated that you guys simply 'weren't like that' but your excited grin and wave when she entered the church spoke something else.

she brought her hand up to the white door, knocking softly while kicking around dust with her shoe. she always covered her tattoo at your house, it was one thing to get a tattoo at sixteen in front of joe miller who really couldn't care less but even at her age now, she wouldn't be caught dead showing it to your parents, she knew how much they disliked her already.

the door swung open to reveal a distressed looking ashley. "oh, thank god you're here." practically pulling ellie in the door, she made a noise of complaint at the abruptness. "this house is officially fucking scaring me."

ellie bent down slightly to her friend. "what's going on?" whispering, seeing as she had noticed how ashley had done the same.

"mom and dad have finally lost it, that's what going on." she stopped ellie in front of the stairs, where they could barely peek into the living room where the whole scene was unfolding.

"but that's not fair!" you were sat on the couch, your parents standing tall in front of you, intimidating you. your eyes rung red, lashes wet and cheeks tear stained. "t-they're my friends!" blubbering out through your feeble cries. ellie's brows furrowed and her eyes softened at the sight of you so upset. you were a bubbly girl, always obliging to everything and here you were feebly trying to defend whatever you were working against, it seemed to be failing tremendously.

"you have never spoken back to us like this." your father stated in a disappointed tone that made your gut twist. "whether you can see it or not, these 'friends' are changing you. they're a bad influence!" you scoffed, turning your face away from them as you roughly wiped your tear stained cheeks. you felt pathetic, crying in front of them and for something so utterly stupid. ellie watched with a sad frown etched to her face watching as you sunk into the couch, you looked so... small.

"don't give us that attitude!" your mother yelled upon seeing you scoff.

you gave them desperate, pleading eyes. "i didn't say anything." voice breaking as if you finally began to give up, you always did with your parents.

"do you know how much your father does for you?" your mother was not as tall as your father but certainly just as scary. "and for you to throw it away like that! do you know what would have happened if someone saw you there?!" she was getting in your face, much too close for a parent.

ashley tugged on ellie's arm, leading her up the stairs while ellie's eyes stayed strained on you until you were finally out of view. "they were driving through town today." ellie nodded, listening to every word hanging from ashley's lips. "and they ran into y/n with her new friends, ruth and maxine."

ellie's brows furrowed in confusion. "i thought your parents were okay with them."

"yeah they were." she opened the door to her bedroom. "until they found out they were gay." ellie's look went cold. they didn't know she herself was gay but that didn't matter because ashley had tarnished the name already, they wouldn't care if she was friends with ellie, it was simply the fact that it was y/n l/n their precious bead and they simply couldn't afford another 'screw up'.

ellie bit down on her bottom lip, cracking her knuckles. "what fucking tools." her brows were tied together, a burning feeling buried inside her chest. "should we say something?" as if your parents would ever hear the girl out.

ashley simply shook her head. "would just make it worse. for us and for her." ellie nodded her head despite the way she bit down on her bottom lip, taking a seat on the bed. "look, don't worry about it, ellie." she took a seat next to her friend. "the worst they can do is kick her into the bedroom and make her pray herself to sleep." a small chuckle falling from her lips, she knew her sister and her parents well, yes, they were hard on her but they'd never do anything to hurt her. "she'll be okay." ellie nodded once more, sitting herself back on the pillows and flicking through the dvd's in which ashley had left out on the bed, ready to pick one. it seemed as though the girl was contemplating something but ellie paid no mind. maybe she should have, she may have been able to prevent the next words that tumbled from her lips. "seriously though, ellie, you gotta get over this crush." ellie's hands froze.

with wide eyes, she looked up at her best friend. "what? i don't—"

ashley cut her off. "ellie, i know." and the simple sentence was enough to send ellie's thoughts into a spiral. "and it's okay it's just—you saw how my mom and dad were because she had gay friends... and you know y/n doesn't like to upset daddy dearest."

the older girl sighed, defeated. "are you mad?"

ashley almost laughed. "mad?" grinning as she shook her head. "on the contrary, i'm rooting for you."

that night ellie didn't sleep much, worry-filled thoughts swarming her mind. it was rare that ellie williams found herself awake, nevermind at the l/n house at this kind of hour. she couldn't help it, the way her mind so easily floated back to you. the way your teary eyes gazed up at your parents, she felt so bad. guilt consumed her and yet she had nothing to feel guilty for. she wondered how a little lust that day she had met you in the church, looking pretty in a red dress had gotten her here, losing sleep over wondering if you were okay. you were the family favourite, you did everything right and it was for them. ellie couldn't shake the thought of your pretty eyes filled with tears or the way your lips turned darker due to the crying, red raw from the way you had gnawed on it so hard, attempting to block out your own parents voices. ellie couldn't remember when the shouting stopped that night but ashley did everything she could to block it out, playing music, talking extra loud, even going as far as laughing madly at one of ellie's jokes that wasn't even funny. ashley was your sister, certainly she felt some sort of sympathy for you. and she did, for she knew that when these things happened she couldn't intervene, she had before and it was safe to say that things didn't end well for either of you. so she blocked the majority of everything out. ellie sighed and sat up in the double king sized bed. she looked down at ashley. "ashley. ash." pushing her frame around to wake her, all she got was a groan and a swat on the hand. ashley turned around, plopping herself back on the bed and snoring rather loudly, ellie fought very hard not to roll her eyes to the back of her head. there was simply no way she was getting any sleep yet, so she took it upon herself to get out of the bed, there was no luck by staring up at the ceiling and drowning in her own thought consuming mind.

she turned and hung her feet off the side of the bed, pulling on her grey socks so her feet could hit the floor calmly.

ellie scratched at the back of her neck as she walked down the stairs as quietly as humanly possible. she needed some water, then she'd go back to bed, she promised herself that much after all it would be her that was shook awake before nine in the morning.

stepping into the kitchen, the girl momentarily froze at the sight of you, sipping on water as you leaned against the counter. you too froze, eyes blown wide. when did ellie get here? had she been listening the whole time? suddenly, you went red with embarrassment at the thought of ellie listening to you fight with your parents, crying and yelling. "ellie— hi."

"hey, baby." you ignored the way your stomach twisted and your heart jumped not one but two paces. ellie ignored the way her own did the very same as she saw you dressed in her, now your, shirt with only the smallest of baby pink shorts to accompany it, so small that ellie wouldn't have noticed it if not for the obvious contrast in colors between it and the shirt. "can't sleep?" you shook your head, sipping on the glass of water while ellie got her own, filling it from the faucet. you ignored the silence aside from water splashing into the clear cup, ellie ignored the way her eyes flickered towards your pretty silver cross still sitting idly on your chest. ellie knew she shouldn't ask but surprise surprise her lips parted anyway. "ashley told me why you were fighting." you bit down on your bottom lip. "you okay?"

"yeah, i just—" you could feel yourself getting emotional again already. god, y/n, pull yourself together. "i don't know how to tell ruth and maxine that i'm not allowed to talk to them anymore." looking down at your white socks.

"you're not allowed to talk to them at all?" shaking your head, you shuffled your feet around. "because they're gay?" you looked up in slight shock by how easily the word came out in such a casual tone. you weren't even permitted to whisper the word as it was.

clearing your throat, you shook away your slight shock. "yeah and—and i think it's stupid." furrowing your brows together. ellie hadn't heard you state your opinion loud enough before, or at all really, you went along with everything your parents said as to not upset them, doing the very same with your sister, she listened silently. "because they can have their own beliefs, i don't care it's just—they're my friends. and i don't care that they're gay because it doesn't change anything. and i liked having gay friends because they..." they understood you. you stopped mid sentence, eyes wide at what you were almost ready to admit. your eyes snapped towards ellie who was watching you, her glass of water now abandoned on the counter as she waited patiently for you to finish your sentence. "I'm sorry, i don't know why i said all that." suddenly you wished you were inside your bedroom, being sucked into your bed sheets, yeah, that sounded pretty nice right about now. "i'm sorry, i have to go to bed."

and you tried to escape and almost did if it weren't for the hand that instantly caught your arm. you could see ellie's tattoo now that she was in a tank top, her hand was much larger than your arm, it bound around it easily. "they what?" her eyes pleaded for you to continue.

"ellie..." your eyes moved to the top of her hair, she was so much taller than you, they gazed into her own jade pair of irises, then they moved across her flush cheeks dusted with freckles, along the slope of her nose and finally, they rested on her pink lips. "you know." she did, she always did.

"spell it out for me, angel." you took a step back, she took a step forward, you remembered hitting your back against the counter, stumping you from moving at all.

"you— you can't call me those names anymore, ellie." mumbling as your eyes never stopped their light tracing against her lips.

"why?" whisper so gentle that you almost didn't hear her but you could, very clearly when she was so close, lips so close.

"ellie." almost a warning. "I can't." her face was getting closer, yours was growing hotter, pink dusted your cheeks and your lips almost chased her face. you had never kissed anyone before. that was what she was trying to do wasn't it?

"you can't?" dipping her head down so her face met yours. she didn't stop there. "or you won't?" as her hot breath hit your neck, you sucked in a breath.

"i— i think you should go." but you didn't want her to go, you really didn't want her to go.

"you wan't me here?" as a wet kiss came down to the skin of your neck, you gasped out, blinking. this was a dream, it had to be. you felt almost euphoric as her lips flattened against the crook of your neck, the way they kissed you so delicately as if you were made of glass. she moved her head back up almost instantly, as if her own actions weren't affecting her. her lips brushed against your own, so closely that you could taste her. "or here?"

you weren't proud of what you did next.

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

[furaflictedhost]

Afton Family Stupidity

~Training Wheels~

Losing track of time when working on a project was not uncommon for William. Neither was losing most of his awareness of what was going on around him. 

His children often took this as an invitation to sneak into and out of the workshop undetected. However, even after many experiences proving the opposite, they still did so. Michael tiptoed into the workshop, glancing frequently at his father to ensure he hadn’t been spotted.

Slowly, he inched his way across the concrete, every footfall carefully measured. It was a game at this point, to see who could sneak in and out undetected, but no one had succeeded thus far. He reached for the wrench that was usually perched atop his tool shelf, and grasped, only to find it missing. 

“Looking for this?”

Spotted. Michael turned to face his father, who still had his back turned. He held up the wrench he was looking for like a prize. Michael cursed under his breath. There goes his hope for winning. He sheepishly approached his father.

“Uh, Yeah.”

Turning in a manner akin to a cartoon evil genius, William smirked. Michael made a grab for it, only to be thwarted by his father’s quick movements, holding it away from him.

“And why, pray tell, are you looking for my spanner?” 

Groaning in frustration, Michael made another grab for it, unamused by his father’s antics.

“Because I need it.”

Tossing the wrench from one hand to the other with nonchalant agility, William leaned back, holding it just out of his eldest’s reach.

“Why do you need it?”

Practically climbing on him, Michael reached for the wrench, only to be thwarted again by his father standing up.

“I’m doing something! Gimme the wrench!”

Michael climbed his father’s stool, attempting to even out the height difference. His father stepped away from him, just enough to put him off balance, but not enough to topple him from his standpoint on the stool.

“What are you working on?”

Wobbling unsteadily, Michael groaned aloud in frustration, and admitted defeat. When his father decided to be difficult or playful, there was no way around it. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Michael sat down on the stool.  

“I’m putting my training wheels back on my bike, okay?”

The incredulous look his father gave him only frustrated him more.

“Why? You don’t need them.”

Frowning deeply, Michael folded his arms and looked to the floor in embarrassment.

“It’s not for me Dad, it’s for…just give me the wrench.”

“I would be happy to help you, but I need more information.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose when irritated was something Michael picked up from his mother. Ironically that frustration often came from the same source. 

“I am trying to teach Evan how to ride a bike, and I want to put the training wheels on my bike so he doesn’t freak out, okay?”

A small, knowing smile appeared on his father’s face. William patted his eldest son’s shoulder affectionately.

“See? Now was that so hard?”

“You already knew, didn’t you.”

The sly grin on his father’s face answered the question on its own. William offered Michael the tool he’d been fighting to grab and ruffled his hair. 

“Your mother told me a couple hours ago. I just wanted to give you a hard time.”

Michael snatched the wrench from his father’s hands and stomped towards the door. About a foot from the exit, he turned back to his father. 

“Speaking of, have you seen Evan? I’ve been looking for him all day.”

William motioned over to the other stool. Sitting a few feet away, staring at them both with his unmovable blank stare, was Evan.

“He has been helping me with my latest project.”

Michael sighed, and motioned for his brother to follow him, only to find his brother was already standing next to him. He jumped slightly, always slightly unnerved by his brother’s ability to seemingly teleport, and then took his hand.

“Right. Come on, Ev. Let’s go get those wheels attached.”

He led his brother out of the room, calling a thank you over his shoulder. William smirked, and turned back to his project, only to find that his screwdrivers had all been rearranged, and the one he needed was missing. He sighed, knowing there could only be one culprit.

“Goddamnit. Not again.”

[pick-me-up-im-scared]

⚠️Warning!⚠️: This story contains smut!

(not proofread! Also…….I wrote this at like 3 am, so keep that in mind)

_____________________________________________________________

Your arm was starting to get sore, but it didn't matter. You continued to jam your three fingers into her moist cunt. Ellie gripped the sides on the bench you had haphazardly placed her on. Conveniently placed in a corner of a rarely used hall in your school. Especially this early in the morning. You gave Ellie’s neck a few quick pecks before sucking on her weak spot. You wouldn’t have been so pissed at your English teacher for telling you to hand in your book at 7 am, aka an hour before your first class, if you knew it would lead to this. Ellie Williams, the most attractive loser in school, being spread out just for you.

"Shush, shush. You need to stay quiet, Ellie" you whispered. She nodded her head as she continued to keep down her whines. The laces of her dirty converse swing as you continue to slam into her pretty pussy, nudging the bundled up fabric around her knees. Her twisted face was a sigh you tried to keep in your memory, for some lonely night when your parents weren't home.

As you continue to slide your fingers into her needy hole you used her other hand to pull back her t-shirt that’s fallen over due to her constant moving, showing off her pretty little tits. “Prettiest fucking tits I’ve ever seen” you mumble as you watched them slightly bounce as you spread up your pace. You used your hips to thrust your fingers deeper into her poor pussy, not caring that her access juice smeared onto the front of your jeans, creating strings whenever you pulled back your hips to soon after slam them back into her.

The table slightly banged into the wall behind Ellie with every thrust. You’d start to worry about someone hearing if it wasn’t for your pussydrunk state. The warm feeling of Ellie’s wall’s squeezing you in made you obsessed, desperate to observe every single thing. Ellie clawed at the old wood rim around the table as she bit those pretty lips of hers. You knew it was to prevent herself from being so loud, but you kinda wanted to tell her to just go wild and allow her to let out all those pretty little sounds. But you knew you two would get in big trouble if anyone saw you, so you had to push your horny thoughts aside and be happy with the muffled whines you got.

As you started to rub your thumb on her clit she couldn't help but let out a groan. You winced at the contrast of the dead silent hall before putting your head near her ear. "I told you to be quiet!" you whisper-yelled, trying to conceal the true effect her sounds had on you. "I know. I-I´m trying" she pathetically whined out. You couldn't help but giggle at her cute attempt to keep it together. She couldn't fool a soul.

You jammed in your fingers all the way into her before curving and continuously message her g-spot. Using your hips to press down onto the back of your hand, making sure to reach the deepest point. Quickly pressing your lips against hers to quiet her down. A smirk sneaked into the kiss as the expected moan leaves Ellie's throat, luckily muffled. You could feel Ellie grinning herself against your hand, desperate to feel more of you.

She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer to her as her walls tightens around your fingers. You stumble over to her, putting your non-busy hand behind her, to not crash onto her. She break away from the kiss and buries her face into the crock of your neck. Bitting into the collar of your sweatshirt to cover her moans. Still the mumbled sound would be enough to make you cum. You continue to abuse her pussy, secretly “hopping” she’d accidentally let out a sound she shouldn’t. But being the good girl she is Ellie didn’t let out another unmuffled sound, scared it’d make you stop. And oh, she really didn’t want you to stop. Her heavy breathing warms up your neck as you continue to milk her of her orgasm. The cum starting to run down your wrist.

Ellie´s juice leaked down, past her asscrack to create a pool on the bench.

You helped Ellie off the bench and pulled up her panties and jeans, making sure she looked put together before leaving. You whipped off your fingers on your jeans as you made your way to your classroom. Letting Ellie´s cum soak into the fabric. This will be a good day.

_____________________________________________________________

Author´s Note: I've had this idea in my mind for a while, but never planned to write it down. But then I was like "fuck it!" and decided to write something shorter with less background. This was just a quickly little blur, trying out something new. Hope you liked it, even though it sucks donkey dick!

[isagrimorie]

[initial reactions] Agatha All Along 1x06 - Family by my side

I know this episode isn't everyone's cup of tea. Still, I like it for its plot and worldbuilding and for helping me understand more of Teen, officially William Kaplan, aka Billy Maximoff.

I like they've significantly simplified Billy's whole backstory although the black heart thing makes me side-eye again.

I've always enjoyed seeing how the non-powered people of the MCU fare. Honestly, they seem like a bundle of nerves and anxiety, which is valid.

I love seeing the Kaplan parents are lovely and really love William.

Billy living his new second life, uncomfortable in his new body and a new identity. But also, finding some acceptance and comfort in the messy coven he found himself in.

In bullet form because there's a lot to get through:

I honestly loved that the whole coven met Billy/William before they formed a coven, almost like its fate.

So anyone else get a... Bad Wolf kind of feeling when Billy looked up Agatha? Very Immortal/Doctor who btw looking up an immortal.

The links that Billy was suddenly on to had a very... Bad Wolf type of clues where Agatha left breadcrumbs as a message to herself.

- the show dropping in all the casual lore that the show presented.

(Witches can choose how they age and present themselves, lol there's a typo).

Very Doctor Who survives the epic disaster. I bet Rio was mad she missed Agatha during this.

LMAO, Apparently, Agatha is Jolene.

So this one? This is the part where it starts feeling like the Bad Wolf clues to me. Breadcrumbs leading Agatha back to Agatha. Because I still feel like Agatha had a back-up plan and this was one of them. Triggering the back-up plan.

Agatha, do you really have succubus powers or did you start that rumor yourself???

Our first look at Hexed!Agatha.

We don't see Rio, so either Rio isn't really there or she's in a different form than Agent Vidal.

But also: I'm calling it. The painting Agatha has is important somehow.

She keeps looking at the painting and that's where she saw Rio being. Agatha kept looking at the painting when she was confused:

And then Agatha touched it as Billy started chanting. Somehow, that painting is a touchstone.

Um, I missed this but the spellbook actually mentioned that Billy shouldn't attempt using it if the personal item the bonded person has, shared energy with someone else.

"Be careful not to use an item that shares energy with an additional person, or an item belonging to many."

So.

I feel the hair inside the Cameo/Broach may have some unforeseen consequences.

I really liked that Agatha was the one who rescued herself. She's like a cockroach. She's not gonna die, until she's good and ready to die and not before then. Just like my other beloved, Katherine Pierce.

Agatha was actually impressed and not angry with Billy for that maneuver but not above roasting him for being.... such a Maximoff. Overly dramatic, overly self-righteous.

But also she made sure that Billy did not feel ashamed for using his powers. Something I think she wished someone told her. For all of Billy's anger towards, I think he appreciated that Agatha accepted Billy as a Witch.

Agatha was also hurt by Billy's mistrust of her but covered it so quickly with snark and humor. What a sad clown.

TLDR, RIP Coat. We hardly knew ye!

[earl-grey-teacake]

The Jenson ask is hilarious! Now all I can imagine is Sky Sports telling Jenson to kidnap Logan again to get George and Alex on again. Meanwhile, Jenson, who has already kidnapped Logan again, rolls up like this is my new copresenter we don't need Danica Patrick anymore Logan has better thoughts on the race. Williams is on red alert trying to find their missing baby because James doesn't check his texts during races!

Oscar now attempts to escape McLaren every time he sees Logan on the Big Face Time (TV) because one miracle escape does not mean Logan will always be safe!

Oh I can totally see it!

Please enjoy this little thing I wrote. I am coping with Australia by writing and being in denial.❤️

Jenson is tired of Danica and decides if Sky Sports won’t give him a replacement, he’ll find one for himself. Logan is old enough to toddle around so he gets his own little space that he can play in when Jenson comes along and coaxes him outside.

Has Logan been given the whole “strange danger, don’t go off alone” talk by his parents? Yes, yes he has.

But Jenson isn’t a stranger so it’s okay and Jenson easily walks out with Logan in tow. After all, it’s not like he kidnapped him. Logan went off his own free will and with the promise of chocolate.

Jenson also shoots off a text to James saying:

Heads up!

Taking Logan for a bit. If you want him back, have Alex and George come to us. 1 interview.

You know where we're at.

James of course does not read it because he's busy being a team principal. In fact, the Williams staff are secretly running around trying to find Logan thinking he’s wandered off looking for his dads because “he knows better to wander off with strangers.” It isn’t until 15 minutes after that James is notified after Logan is confirmed to not be in the garage or hospitality. By then, Jenson has returned to where the rest of the Sky Sports team is with Logan in tow.

“Uhh, Jenson? “ One of the staff members spoke up, “We’re about to be on air soon.”

“I know! This is Logan. He’s my co-presenter for today.” Logan waved at the crew, who smiled and waved back.

"Did you ask to take him?" Nico smiled and waved back. "The last time you did this, Williams thought you kidnapped him."

"Logan wanted to follow me on his own." Jenson scoffed. "Isn't that right?"

Logan, for his part, just cheered and offered up a piece of chocolate to Natalie, who happily took it.

"On his own, huh?"

"It'll be fine."

"Isn't Danica supposed to be-" Natalie said.

"Nope, Logan's is already here. Besides, this is preparing him for the future.

"You don't even know if he wants to be a driver?"

Jenson gasped at Nico's comment. "How could you say that?"

"Don't listen to him, Logan. You can become a Williams driver. I believe in you."

"That's not-"

"And we're live!"

********

Oscar's eyes widened at the sight of the TV. "Lo!"

Lando looked up, having finished interviews early and returning to his driver's room. "Oh, yeah that's Logan. Looks like he's with Jenson."

Oscar watched in horror as Lando returned back to looking at the data. "No! Lo! Lo!"

Lando looked up at his son's insistent eyes. "Hey, it's okay. We're meeting them for dinner soon."

Oscar, however, did not agree with this and instead started to stumble towards the door and pull on the handle. Lando, being taller and faster, immediately jumped up and put his hand on it.

Oscar proceeds to yank at the door handle and cry. Going as far as to try and shove Lando away. "Lo!"

*******

Alex and George were walking to find Sky Sports, especially Jenson, after receiving a screenshot of his message? Threat?

"I swear when I find him" George muttered. "How dare he kidnap my child? Logan knows better than to wander off with strangers."

"Jenson's not a stranger." Alex unhelpfully replied. "I'm sure he's fine. It's good for Logan to be around new people."

"What if he's hurt? Uncomfortable?"

"He's with Jenson. He wasn't kidnapped."

"That message read like a ransom note."

Logan was actually quite happy about participating in the interviews. He stayed silent when others were speaking and at the end, they would turn to him and ask if he had any questions to ask, to which he replied in mangled words and sounds. It didn't matter since everyone treated it as serious and the drivers even provided full answers.

"Yes, I agree with you Logan. Our strategy was obviously not the best. We will come back stronger next time."- Charles

"I agree, Logan. Hamilton definitely brake checked me. Thank you for seeing it my way. You would do great at Aston Martin." - Fernando

"Did Fernando say that? If the stewards haven't said anything, I wouldn't put too much weight on it, Logan"- Hamilton

"Oh, he's a natural." Jenson cooed as Logan received another cookie from Nico.

"Dada!" Logan cheerfully yelled out, his mouth covered with crumbs.

Alex looked almost amused at the scene but George seemed to be on the warpath. Careful not to let his collateral go, Jenson adjusted his hold on Logan. "Hey, George, Alex. Nice of you to stop by."

"Hello," Alex greeted. "And hello to you Logan. You seem to be having fun."

"Oh he is," Jenson cheerfully ignored George's stare. "He's such a good interviewer."

"Well thank you so much for joining us today, gentlemen."

"It's not like we had a choice," George muttered

For the entire five minutes, Logan watched as his dads were being interviewed on their performance on the track. Alex went along with the whole thing quite well. George, on the other hand, kept a neutral face but his eyes were firmly locked on Logan.

"Lo! Lo!" Oscar yelled out.

Logan looked up and smiled. "Osca! Osca!"

"How wonderful of you to join us Lando" Natalie greeted. "It's a reunion of the 2019 rookies."

Lando laughed. "It wasn't my intention. Oscar saw Logan on TV and begged to go."

The walk back was fairly quiet with Logan knocked out from the amount of sugar and Oscar exhausted from the tantrum he threw earlier.

"I wonder if Jenson would babysit for us." Alex joked,

"Absolutely not," George said. "Logan is going to start associating Jenson with candy and cookies. Jenson will also take it as an open invitation to just kidnap him again."

"He had a lot of fun. I'm glad." Alex said, practically ignoring George.

"I'm glad he had fun. Oscar kicked me in the shin." Lando muttered, a bit peeved at how peacefully asleep Oscar was.

******

This has been sitting in my drafts for a long time. Sorry it took so long to get out. The Australian GP gave me the push i needed to complete this.

Thank you for sending me this ask! I loved answering it! 🥰

[spaceshipellie]

we were never just friends

ellie williams x reader

part four (part one, part two, part three)

summary: modern!ellie, both in their mid twenties. ellie and reader have been friends for years, their friendship has always been somewhat flirty but nothing has ever happened. not yet anyway…

warnings: angst, fluff, smut, eating out and fingering (r receiving), scissoring, ellie and reader being saps, minors and ageless blogs dni

author’s note: this is the last part 😪 i’ve had so much fun writing this and all of the lovely comments and reblogs have made me giddy tbh i really appreciate them 🩷

word count: 3.6k

“i slept with ellie.”

there was silence after you spoke. you could hear a pin drop. you couldn’t even detect an emotion on kate’s face, she just stared blankly at you.

“kate,” you whispered, trying to jog her to say something.

“i heard you.”

another silent pause.

“i’m really sorry.”

“are you?” she snapped.

“yes! i know this is really fucked up but–“

“but what? please tell me why you thought now was a good time to say something.”

“i tried,” your voice sounded pathetic, knowing she was right but you still attempted to explain yourself.

“i tried to tell you before and i wanted to tell you as soon as i got home but you were at your parents and i didn’t want to call i wanted to tell you in person and…” everything you said came out in one hurried breath.

“…and, i know it’s useless but i am sorry.”

kate looked down at the ground, her jaw clenched and she just slowly nodded, taking in every word.

“do you regret it?”

“i-“ you really thought your voice would follow through with a sentence but it didn’t.

“you know, i think if you were really sorry, and really regretted it, you would have tried harder to fucking tell me, but you didn’t.”

“kate.”

“no, just stop,” she paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts whilst you just stood there, afraid to speak.

“i think you love her.”

you felt like you’d just been shot.

“what?!”

“why do you seem so shocked? you do, don’t you?”

“no, i…” you sighed, defeated, “she’s my best friend.”

“yeah.” kate’s voice was quiet.

˚ · • . ° .

— ellie’s pov —

your flight was leaving soon and you hadn’t said anything to ellie about telling kate. she knew you were going to but the wait was killing her. then again, it wasn’t her relationship so she couldn’t expect you to tell kate. what if you’d changed your mind? what if you wanted to make things work and just forget everything that happened at the weekend? what if you didn’t want to see ellie anymore because it was too awkward?

she was pacing around her bedroom, panicking. she sent you a text to say have a safe flight then immediately muttered “you fucking idiot” to herself and threw her phone at the bed so hard that it bounced off and landed on her guitar amp. the screen cracked and most of it went black. fucking perfect, she thought. just what i need. a stupid broken phone.

her thoughts felt claustrophobic as they shouted at her from every direction. she just wanted to know what you were thinking. how you were feeling. were you feeling as worked up about this as she was? what were you doing right now? why were you still going on this holiday? maybe you didn’t go and any minute now you’d burst through the door.

a little time had passed, about four songs to be exact whilst ellie tried to drown her mind out with angry music. you weren’t bursting through the door and her text only said sent and not delivered. you had to be on that fucking plane. ellie turned the volume up, nearly to the point where her eardrums hurt.

why did you have to make her feel this way? why did you have to be so sweet, and kind, and pretty, and funny, and smart, and loving, and the best person she had ever met. it was actually pissing her off. how fucking dare you be all of those things, then kiss her, fuck her, and leave like it was nothing? it was fucking bullshit.

˚ · • . ° .

— your pov —

you couldn’t get a flight home until two days after you’d made your confession and it was agony. you and kate had broken up that night but had to still share the same hotel room as they were fully booked. however, during the day you did your own thing. which is why you were now sat in some random cafe alone, depressingly sipping on a milkshake.

“boy trouble?” you heard a voice right by you. were they talking to you? you quizzically flicked your eyes from staring down into your drink to look up at this older woman behind the counter. she was giving you a sympathetic smile. did you really look that sad?

“not technically,” you grumbled.

“technically? honey, it’s either a bad situation or it isn’t.” she laughed.

you slurped the end of your drink, the straw making a loud noise.

“i’m having girl trouble.”

the woman hummed in acknowledgment.

“let me get you another one of those, i’ll be right back.”

she made you a new milkshake and placed it in front of you.

“now, what’s troubling ya?”

you didn’t know if you wanted to explain it all to this random stranger, considering it was all quite fresh. but then you thought, hey, you could do with getting it off your chest and you would probably never see this person again so why the hell not. you took in a breath before you spoke.

“i cheated on my girlfriend with my best friend who i think i’m in love with but now i’m on holiday with said girlfriend who is no longer my girlfriend because on our second day here i told her about it and now i’m stuck here until tomorrow waiting to fly home.”

your voice came out very matter of factly and the woman, who was leaning on the counter, blinked a few times, processing.

“gosh,” she said.

“i know,” you sipped your drink.

“darlin’ you’ve got yourself in quite a mess here.”

“you think?” your eyes widened to emphasise the sarcasm.

“so where is the girl-sorry, ex girlfriend?”

“no idea, but we still have to share a hotel room until we leave.”

“oof. where is this best friend?”

“at home in wyoming.”

“when did… it happen? if you don’t mind me asking.”

“at the weekend.”

“damn.”

“i’m fucked, aren’t i.”

the woman took in a breath to gather her thoughts.

“maybe, maybe not. depends on what you want out of this.”

“what do you mean?”

“i mean, this friend of yours, you said you think you love her?”

“ye–i mean, i don’t kn–fuck, yes. yes i do.”

“and,” she dragged the word out, “do you think she loves you too?”

you shrugged and slapped your arms down on the counter.

“i don’t know! every time we try and talk about it it’s like we’ve forgotten how to fucking speak! i don’t know what to do!” your voice had gotten louder and more shrill. other people in the cafe could definitely hear you now if they wanted to pay attention. the woman smiled the way a mother would at her teenage daughter going through her first heartbreak.

“honey, i think you need to tell her how you feel.”

you took another sip, pausing.

“but what if she doesn’t feel the same?”

“then at least you’ll know.”

you grumbled, taking another sip.

“have you spoken to her whilst you’ve been out here?” you immediately felt a pang of guilt.

“no.”

the woman patted your hand.

“you can’t run from it forever, honey.”

once again your straw made a gurgling sound as you finished your milkshake.

“it’s on the house.”

“what? no, it’s fine, i can pay.”

“nope. this one’s on me, i insist.”

“are you my fairy godmother or something?” you laughed.

the woman laughed too and jokingly put her hands up in surrender before leaning them back down on the counter.

“just an old gal who wanted to make sure you were ok.”

“thank you, i really appreciate it.”

you smiled at each other before she walked off out the back. you decided to stop being a wimp and messaged ellie.

you

11:36am

hey els, hope you’re ok. i just wanted to tell you that i told kate, we broke up, but i can’t get home until tomorrow night. can we please talk when i get back?

˚ · • . ° .

you found an array of things to fill your day with but everything was coated in a fresh layer of anxiety because ellie had not replied. she might be busy, she might be working, she has a life, you thought. either that or she hates you.

you and kate barely spoke when you went to bed. it was incredibly awkward and you questioned whether or not you should have gotten a second room in a different hotel but for only two nights it still seemed like a stupid expense. you just had to get through this, then you could maybe put this whole thing to rest.

when you woke up the next day, kate was already gone. your flight was at 4pm so you’d see her soon enough to go to the airport. what a shit show, you thought. you rubbed your eyes and grabbed your phone. still no text from ellie. the anxiety in the pit in your stomach hadn’t let up. this was really out of character for her, she’d never gone this long without replying to you. sure, she was pretty useless with her phone in general but never with you.

˚ · • . ° .

“come on, we need to go,” kate huffed, checking her watch as she stood in the doorway of your hotel room.

“yeah yeah, i’m coming.”

the taxi drive was dead silent. the wait at the airport was dead silent, both of you just putting headphones on. you tried to sleep on the four hour flight but it just wasn’t happening. having to sit still was bad enough.

when you landed and were standing outside with your suitcases, you both stopped and looked at each other.

“i’m not gonna pretend like this isn’t really awkward,” kate spoke first.

“yeah,” you lightly kicked the ground, “again, i’m sorry about all this.”

“me too.” more silence.

“well, goodbye,” she said, her voice lifeless and sad.

“bye.” and with that she left. it all felt very weird and you felt sad. more so because you had hurt kate in a way you didn’t intend to, but what was done had been done and you could only really focus now on what lay ahead.

you got back to your apartment just after 9pm and threw your stuff down, not wanting to deal with it. you checked your phone again. still no reply.

“right, i can’t take this,” you muttered to yourself and aimlessly grabbed your phone and jacket before heading over to ellie’s place. on the walk over you tried to prepare what you were going to say.

“ellie, i need to tell you that–no, no…ellie, this whole thing has made me realise i–fuck,” you were getting frustrated. someone walked by and gave you a strange look as you were talking to yourself in public but you didn’t care and gave them a strange look back. you reached her place and tried to call her to tell her you were outside. voicemail. excellent. you buzzed the apartment intercom, over and over and over until you gave up. nothing. she wasn’t home.

“fuck this,” you cursed, wracking your brain for where she could be. it was a saturday night. hazy’s, you thought.

you beelined there and of course, it was busy. you couldn’t see her so you pushed your way to the bar. a familiar guitar riff played in the background. the band you went to see together were playing again. how stupidly poetic.

“nadine!” you called. she span around.

“hey! i thought you were supposed to be in california?”

“i am, i mean i was, look it’s a long story. have you seen ellie?”

“yeah, she’s here somewhere…oh, she’s over there,” nadine pointed.

you thanked her quickly before rushing over. you caught sight of her over someone’s shoulder but when she came into full view you saw a girl talking to her.

you felt sick. it’s too late, you thought. she hated you and she wanted to move on from it. although, she didn’t look the way she usually did when she was flirting with girls in bars, she kind of looked bored, so maybe everything was fine. you told yourself whatever story you wanted to hear and walked up to her.

“ellie.” her head snapped to look at you. her face looked confused but also…hopeful?

“what the fuck, how are you here?”

“who’s this?” the girl chimed in. you stared at her wishing she would fuck off. you knew you were one to talk but the feeling still stood.

you and ellie both said, “i’m her,” and “she’s my,” at the same time before pausing.

“you’re my what?” her eyes fixated on you.

“please can we just talk?”

“sure,” she said, pushing herself off the wall she had been leaning against and walking towards you. the girl rolled her eyes and disappeared.

you started to walk outside, ellie following behind. your palms felt clammy and your stomach felt like it was about to burst as you still had no idea where to start. once outside and out of the way of anyone you stopped and turned to face her.

“ok ok ok,” you chanted to yourself before leading with, “i’ve been trying to come up with the right way to say this but–“

“where’s kate?” she interrupted.

“she went home.” you felt nervous at how she suddenly sounded a bit pissed off.

“why are you back from california?”

“why would i stay there?” you questioned, confused.

“i don’t know, maybe because you were so excited to go on some romantic fucking getaway with your girlfriend where you’ve probably been fucking and–“

“ellie,” you shouted, trying to get her to stop, “i haven’t, i mean we didn’t do anything! i swear.”

“then why did you go?” she yelled.

“i fucking panicked, i–ok i’m not gonna try and excuse it because that was shitty of me but also why have you been ignoring me?”

“i haven’t been ignoring you.”

“you have, ellie, i messaged you ages ago and you never fucking replied!”

“i broke my phone.”

“when?”

“wednesday.”

“ellie, it’s saturday, why didn’t you get it fixed?”

“i don’t know! i haven’t gotten around to it, anyway does that matter?!”

“yes because if you did then you’d know that i told kate, we broke up a couple days ago, i’m never gonna see her again, i’ve had the worst few days of my life thinking you hated me and didn’t wanna talk and i know it’s all my fault and i’m a fucking idiot but–“

she kissed you.

her warm hands grabbed your face and she kissed you, hard.

you broke apart, gasping for air, her hands still on your face and yours holding her bent elbows for stability as you felt like you could honestly collapse in a heap.

“i don’t think i’ve ever fucked up this colossally in my entire life. well, except for that time i crashed my car into a–“

“will you shut up?” she smirked.

“yeah, no, yeah, sorry.” you stuttered and she kissed you again.

your hands tangled themselves in her hair and hers traveled down to your waist, pulling you tight against her.

“take me home?” you mumbled into it. she smiled and grabbed your hand, practically running back to your place, only because it was closer than hers.

her hands were all over you as you fumbled with the keys to get into your apartment. as soon as the door slammed shut she pushed you up against the nearest wall. you moaned as your back hit it.

“you’ve been driving me insane,” ellie mumbled against your lips.

“i couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“oh yeah? tell me what you thought about.” she started kissing your neck, her hand slipping under your top to touch your waist.

“your hands,” your cheeks felt hot. she slipped her other hand down to squeeze your ass and chuckled when it made you lean your hips into her.

“anything else?”

“ellie,” you pleaded, feeling embarrassed.

“i wanna know.”

“ok, i thought about how fucking annoying you are when you-“ you yelped as she grabbed your thighs, picking you up, your legs wrapping tightly around her.

she hastily made her way to the sofa and sat down so that you were now straddling her lap. your hands tugged at her hair as you kissed, making her groan. her hands grabbed your ass, making you grind into her. they then slide up your back, pushing your top up as she mumbled, “take it off.”

you ripped your top off and as you’d been traveling all day you hadn’t bothered with a bra so your tits were already out, pressing against her. her hands never left your body as she moved them to cup your boobs, squeezing and brushing her thumbs over your nipples.

“take your jeans off.”

you smirked and climbed off her lap and stood before her. you slowly started to unzip your jeans and slip your thumbs beneath the waist band, ready to push them down. her eyes were gazing all over your body as she licked her lips. you took your time pushing your jeans and underwear down just to tease her. the second they were off she leaned forward and grabbed you, pulling you back onto her straddling her lap.

“you’re eager,” you teased.

“don’t,” she laughed slightly before kissing you. she knew she was but she didn’t care. her hand glided down your back, going over the curve of your ass before you felt her fingers slightly part your wet folds.

you instinctively pushed your body further into hers and she dipped a finger in, slowly moving it in and out with ease. you moaned against her mouth.

“more.”

“now who’s eager.”

your hands gripped her shoulders harder in warning. she fingered you for a little longer until she suddenly moved her hand away, gave your ass a light tap and said, “sit on my face, baby.”

you both wasted no time getting into position as she lied back on the sofa and you hovered over her face. she wrapped her hands around your thighs and pulled you down, licking a long stripe up your cunt.

“fuck, you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this.”

her words made you try and squeeze your thighs together but her hands held them tightly in place. her tongue swirled circles on your clit making you breathlessly let out a string of curses.

your knuckles were turning white as you gripped the back of the sofa and you struggled to hold your body upright with how good she was making you feel. so good in fact you didn’t notice that she had moved one of her hands off your thigh until you felt her finger slip into your dripping cunt again. she curled it and worked it inside you alongside the torment of her tongue on your clit.

“oh fuck i’m gonna come.”

she kept her rhythm as your orgasm washed over you. your body went limp above her and she moved her hand up to your waist to support you as you shuffled back down her body. you gave her a tired, sloppy kiss.

“why am i always naked before you?”

“it’s hot,” she laughed.

she then sat up, pushing you up to be in her lap again before saying you should move to your bedroom. you giddily nodded and she pinched your ass as she followed you. she was walking so close her front was practically against your back anyway.

as soon as the bed was in sight she spun you around and kissed you before pushing you back onto it. you giggled as you leant on your forearms looking up at her as she started taking her clothes off. once naked, she leaned over you, lips back on yours, helping you shuffle up the bed. your hands were raking down her back emitting a moan from her. she was then pushing your legs apart and positioning herself so that your cunts were pressed together. you both let out a loud moan as she started rocking her hips.

“fuck, baby,” she groaned.

“feels so good, el.”

her fingertips were digging into your skin, supporting herself as she fucked herself into you. the sounds that filled the room were animalistic and filthy.

“i’m gonna come,” her voice cracked. the sight of her struggling to keep her eyes open above you was enough to send you into your next orgasm.

“m-me too.”

she collapsed on top of you, her face buried in your neck and you trailed your fingertips up and down her back, both of you panting. after you both took a moment to catch your breath she lifted her head to look at you.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” she said, brushing a piece of hair away from your face.

“so are you,” you smiled, which made her blush.

“stop,” she laughed.

“you always get so weird when i compliment you but sorry baby, you really are.”

she closed her eyes for a second and subtly nodded, accepting it. you took her hand and started absentmindedly playing with her rings. you both looked at each other for a moment, taking in the fact that you were here again, in each other’s arms, but this time it was different. you didn’t have to worry about anything. you could just enjoy it.

“ellie,” you started, suddenly feeling that anxious pit in your stomach again.

“yeah?”

“i think…i think i love you.”

there. you’d said it. you had stopped being afraid and you’d told her.

“actually i think i always have.” your voice was soft and her eyes melted. she placed a light, loving kiss on your lips.

“i think i’ve always loved you too.”

you both laughed but this time you didn’t have to shush yourselves. she suddenly started attacking you with kisses all over your face and neck and you laughed louder.

“can’t believe we wasted all that fucking time,” you joked. she smiled.

“i guess we better make up for it.”

˚ · • . ° .

tag list: @ximtiredx @mattm1964 @robinismywifee @gold-dustwomxn @rolly-pollie @sapphicproblem @harrysslutsstuff @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @ellitelesbo @emothurman a couple other people asked me to tag them but it won’t let me and i’m not sure why so sorry about that!

[romana-after-dark]

Room's on Fire Masterlist

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Years after the world fell apart, various communities have established themselves, one of which is ran by four men who claim to be divine.

When they decide it's time to and heir to be born, they chose a virgin from their cult and make her their wife. Reader is offered a choice, of course. She doesn't have to marry them. But if she doesn't, the savior won't be born. She choses to become the Madonna. She is wed to all four of them, and moved into their home where her body is open to use whenever her husbands desire (free use au), in the hopes of getting her pregnant. It doesn't matter whose baby it ends up being, because they are all part God, so it doesn't matter... right?

Warnings for full fic, if anything is added or really emphcized it will be in additional warnings.

THIS IS A DARK FIC THOUGH SO BE WARY! I CAN'T PROTECT AGAINST EVERYTHING.

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

Unknown amount of chapters right now.

Chapter 1: Pilot: Delta finds their Madonna Chapter 2: The wedding Chapter 3: Aftermath of the wedding FishBen: Symptom of Being Human Chapter 4: Pope is not pleased. Chapter 5: Jonah lore, Madonna gets through to Frankie Chapter 6: Madonna gains Frankie's heart, Santi is jealous Iris: Rey and Iris find pockets of time Chapter 7: Fun with Ben: wining Pope back Chapter 8: big announcement to the community

Non canon Frankie Madonna Chapter 9: Madonna’s blissful ignorance to the world around her. Chapter 10: There's a lot Madonna doesn't know.

Chapter 11: Things start to crumble around Madonna

Chapter 12: It's all too much for Madonna

Chapter 1 3: Santiago’s true colors come out

Chapter 14: Jonah tries to show the truth

Chapter 15: madonna begins to learn her power

Chapter 16: Frankie and Ben reflect

Chapter 17: Ben shows his true colors

Chapter 18: Iris makes her stand

Chapter 19:

Chapter 20:

Bonus Content

not necessary for the series. Pieces in the main list are suggested as they add depth and sometimes small plot points.

"Can you peel my orange?" Jonah smut

Jonah Hanson character ai

ROF characters Star signs

Jonah x non-Madonna reader x Marcus flashback commission

Art

By @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

By @survivingandenduring

Lil comic by @my-secret-shame

As I said, a lot of themes and dynamics ended up accidentally similarly to Watch Your Step by the amazing @charnelhouse Some was because that fic is what developed my characterizations of the boys. Some was totally incidental, like Pope and readers relation to art. It's different though, a much different series, but I wanted to tell y'all that she s PUBLISHING WYS AS A NOVEL NOW, Its called Cardinal Sin's and I'll link it right here!

How to keep up with the story!

Comment on this masterlist that you want to be tagged and I'll tag you in updates

Follow @romana-updates and/turn on notifications

Follow the tag Rooms on fire

THANK YOU FOR YOU'RE SUPPORT!

Please remember to reblog, and I love comments/asks, anon or not, and would love to see engagement and theories!