𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛. ꒰ chapter one ꒱
prologue | illusion masterlist | next
ˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡ when dealing with the snottiest bride in your career so far, the universe rewards you with another encounter with the bane of your existence. this time, you wake up in her t-shirt, in her bed, with her taste on your tongue. it may not be your proudest moment, but it sure was fun. word count: 8k.
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — ‧₊˚ ⋅ MINORS DNI (18+) wedding planner!reader x divorce attorney!ellie. bridezillas and minor panic attacks. smoking. alcohol. smut / one night stand. dominant!ellie, submissive!reader, making out, oral (both!receiving), face sitting, fingering (r!receiving), body hair + teeny bush mention, praise, hair pulling, hickeys, one single use of the word 'whore' as a joke. reader is incredibly horny and pussy-whipped. ellie’s actually a dickhead. reader is delusional. dina and jj being adorable.
── m so sorry this took longer than i wanted to come out! mental health and life going crazy right now. (๑•́ ᎔ ก̀๑)
꒰ CHAPTER ONE: 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍. ꒱
it begins when she is under two stylists, one layering foolproof foundation and bronzer over her cheeks, the other working her hair into an effortless up-do.
of course, that's the issue. "i don't like this hairstyle anymore. i want something different. i spent three-fifty on this balayage on tuesday, i want people to see it."
now you stifle a sigh and, despite having perfected a pokerface, the corner of your lips still twitch.
this bride was particularly invasive during the process of meeting with her over the months prior to today. anything you planned had to be ran by her first, never mind that she made herself ridiculously busy every time you needed to get a hold of her.
you knew what kind of day you'd be in for when you woke this morning, but if you were lucky, it would have stopped with the meticulous planning process. but the world isn't often fair to you.
this one's a bridezilla.
you watch as the hairstylist begins removing each and every bobby pin from the bride's hair with haste, offering up other ideas, frazzled as she glances to the clock and worries over how much time is left to salvage this.
bridesmaids rush around the room, passing a bottle of champagne, a distinct murmuring of nervousness fluttering in the air.
a couple surround the stylists, the maid of honour in particular trying to soothe her friend. you don't miss the pleading tone in her voice, which seems to have the wrong effect. you watch bridezilla snap and turn her face away; the makeup artist's eyes grow comically wide as she halts any movement, narrowly escaping a mishap involving a rogue streak of eyeliner.
"what the fuck is that?" bridezilla shrieks, pointing to another girl. "your dress. that is not terracotta. that's orange."
"huh? it's rust."
you stand immediately, flicking glances between the other bridesmaids and the offending one. as dumb as it is, it wouldn't be the first time in your career that the semantics of colours were argued in the bridal suite.
yet something of the way each girl gives each other a wide-eyed stare tells you this is going to be hard to resolve.
it means they're scared of bridezilla.
it means this poor girl and her rusty dress are going to be the unwilling targets to the bride's rifle of a mouth for the whole day.
"you said rust or terracotta was fine," the bridesmaid protests, tripping over her feet as she rushes to the mirror. "i showed you a picture of my dress and you said it was okay."
"it looks different on camera then— ow! too tight." the hairstylist nods quickly, releasing the bride's hair, and once again scrambles to find another solution. now she's plugging in a curling iron and searching the pinterest board on the bride's phone for something else she might like. it doesn't stop the bitch from continuing. "you're going to ruin every single picture, robin. i might have to exclude you from them."
"i'm sure that won't be necessary honey," you cut in. "no pictures will be ruined. i'll leave a request with the photographer to alter the colour in post, if you'd like?"
few times in your life has a single glare made your blood feel this cold. but you understand immediately why each bridesmaid tiptoes around.
bridezilla is terrifying!
"why are you sitting there doing nothing?" she asks.
"no, no, i'm working," you insist. "my job right now is to handle any problems that may arise. i'm soon to check in with the groomsmen."
"then get off your ass."
your brows furrow, yet you force a smile, looking down at your feet on the floor. "i''m off it already."
you have already made up your mind; this couple will be charged extra, if not for the emotional hell this has been to endure so early on, it will be for the overabundance of attitude she's got.
"wait, wait." as you grab your file and start towards the door, rusty-dress-bridesmaid grabs your arm. her eyes are shiny, shoulders hunched. "sorry, i'm sorry, i don't know what to do. katy's mad."
not a single wedding flies by without a mini panic attack from anyone in the bridal party. you half-expected this.
"she's just a little bit stressed," you say, gently consoling poor robin before those tears leave her lashes. you take a tissue and motion for her to dab away the salt. "it's not your fault, you really couldn't have known the colour would be so trivial. it matches just fine, and the photographer can adjust the pictures—you're not ruining anything."
"okay, i don't need to hide?"
"not at all, hon." you smile at her, and she gives a tight-lipped one back. "when you look back on this, i'm sure katy won't even remember."
when you step outside the suite you rest your head against the back of the door and sigh, rolling the tension out of each limb before getting on your way.
as expected, the groomsmen have no issue. every so often there's a wedding with severely incompetent groomsmen—the best man forgot the damn rings once, and you definitely suffered a weekend-long migraine after that one—but thankfully today, no nightmare scenario has materialised.
your only complaint is that the groom is just too kind for his wife-to-be.
if she can find someone who loves her, why can't you?
why is it so hard?
pushing all discomfort (envy) aside, you dash around the venue and make last minute adjustments and fixes to the decor.
the reception hall is like something out of a movie. a wide entrance guarded by crawling ivy and fairy lights, a rustic sign that beholds the seating plan planted at the side.
you step in and make your way down, scanning every table, checking every name, every party favour, every candle. if something is out of place, you nudge it back into its spot.
finally at the end of the hall you meet with dina, making her own last minute adjustments to wreaths and hanging bouquets in all the necessary places. this was a flora heavy wedding, one that she's had to put a heap of work into, and the strict colour palette has stolen every orange flower in your shop.
"did she like her bouquet?"
"surprisingly, yes." you chuckle lightly. "it's probably the only thing she likes so far today."
"oh, shit," dina mumbles, raising a brow. "you okay?"
"always," you reply, smiling reassuringly. "but i think—"
in the most comedic of timings, the ground shakes with a clap of thunder, one so loud it seems to have been worryingly close to the building.
"—i think i need a drink," you finish.
torrential downpour begins outside.
dina snorts, rubbing your shoulder and leaning closer so you may hear her over the sound of the rain. "i hope i see you alive tomorrow."
"gee, thanks," you deadpan. "not helping."
you feel envious again, only this time it isn't over love. it's because dina gets to leave now.
she has the easy job.
"you got this," dina assures. she is your biggest cheerleader these days, she's the one to promise you that you can do whatever anxiety says you can't. she also comes packed with the art of distraction. "come by the shop tomorrow. i know it's your day off, but your nephew's gonna start acting out if he doesn't see you soon."
"okay." you sigh, unable to mask the smile that forms. "poor jj. stuck with his dada all week, huh?"
your phone vibrates in your pocket. once, then again, then again, and again, and you sigh. "i should probably go to battle now."
"mhm. good luck," dina says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "remember, there's no use crying over th—"
"things you can't control, i know." you begin walking back to the door with dina with tense shoulders and a creased brow anyhow.
yes, katy was distraught that her fabulous outdoor ceremony had to be moved indoors. all decor was thankfully salvaged and moved into the backup room, but no matter how much you tried to promise her this totally looked way better than the original plan, she wouldn't have it.
you've been screamed at and now you're running around on fumes, guiding guests to the new ceremony spot. many are appreciative. the guests are the best part. never rude, often just as perturbed by the happy couple's behaviour as you are—hell, they make you realise you got off lucky not knowing the couple personally. you wonder what these unfortunate people have been subjected to in the past by having known the couple.
you're just waiting for your brief moment of peace, soon to come once you send katy down the aisle.
"no, no. i'm not even buzzed yet. i'm not drunk enough for this."
you try your best to softly shush her, reminding her the guests might be able to hear her obnoxious complaining. well, you were kinder than that. but inside? that's what you meant.
"come on hon, are you getting nervous?" you ask instead. you can't imagine needing to be drunk off your tits to stand at the altar. if there weren't already a million blaring signs that this marriage won't be lasting, this is the proof. "don't be. he loves you no matter what."
stupidly. that man worships the ground katy walks on, you've already seen enough of him to know it. it's a miracle how he does.
ignoring you, katy calls her maid of honour over with a last minute glass of champagne. at this rate, she might be stumbling down the aisle. she sculls it effortlessly, to which you sigh at and busy yourself with neatening up her veil.
for you, this is a well rehearsed process. fixing the bride, adjusting the train of her gown and reordering the bridesmaids into a single line just as the music begins to play.
one by one, the women head down to the altar—you quickly pressed a tissue into the maid of honour's hands before she went, just in case the bride gets teary. although, something tells you that it won't be necessary.
and finally, when the music reaches a crescendo, you pull back the curtains and bestow upon the guests the sight of their bride and her satisfied face. she is just beaming at the attention, basking in their gazes, before beginning her walk.
you think that finally, you can have a break. from now until the ceremony ends, you can rest some.
only, when you look into the crowd, you find a face you never wanted to see again. in fact, you had sworn never to see this face again. it's just— stupid fucking freckles, a jaw so sharp you could cut yourself on it, her dark brows furrowed in distaste.
as soon as the curtains close, you throw a fit.
ellie.
ellie, again?
you sit, pressing a hand against your warming forehead. "fuck," you whisper, taking a deep breath before you explode into several pieces of broken-heartedness.
in the two weeks that have been and gone since your disastrous reunion with teenage angst, you've struggled to forget her again.
an onslaught of terror has been brought upon you. once again you are a bullying victim, this time by your own mind, and the visions of your past that keep haunting you. you can't shut them out as well as you used to.
outside the safety of the curtain, you hear sickening vows and the booming voice of the celebrant. rain still beats against the building's walls, and you resort to rocking back and forth in order to combat the pure suffering that the inconvenience of ellie's presence has caused you.
and, you may also be hugging yourself tightly so that you can resist the urge to peek out again, just to catch a glimpse of her utterly gorgeous face.
you march your way out of the reception, all but ready to get the hell out of here now the party has started and you've had a glass of champagne. you've got a whole season left of bridgerton waiting for you at home, a binging session necessary for your recovery.
and, probably, hours of fantasising about your own period romance. the one you deserved, free of phones and ghosting and all the like—ignoring the fact that said romance would be criminalised.
a gust of wind tousles your hair, rouses tiny bumps on your arms, the garden bushes and trees dancing in it. the path out there tempts you, but you remain steady on the way to the parking lot, rubbing your hands over your goosebumps. it's much too cold out for a walk in the garden.
your hand touches your phone already, itching to call a cab by the time you make it to the front of the venue. searching for the number, phone screen lighting your vision, and then there's a hand on your elbow, tugging you back beneath the shelter with a considerable force. and now, you hear the rain; coming down far too sudden, with all the might in the world.
you turn, a grateful smile aimed at this stranger, until you realise it isn't a stranger.
when the smoke disperses from her face, you find ellie's unamused expression. she scoffs lightly, "you should watch where you're going."
you don't like it. to be this close to ellie, smelling the tobacco on her clothes and feeling the tight grip her hand has on your arm. you don't like how quickly you can assess her, her loose suit, careless eyes, the cigarette dangling between her fingers on her free hand.
you don't like how the universe is seemingly determined to have your lives align despite you existing in entirely different galaxies.
"yeah, i know," you murmur, freeing your arm and staring into the parking lot, the wet road catching moonlight.
"i'm impressed," ellie says, giving an approving nod as she flicks some ash from her cig to the ground. "props to you for handling bridezilla. i don't like her."
"oh.." you laugh quietly, smoothing down your blouse and shrugging. after all, you have found that the worst part of today was not the bride. it was avoiding ellie. and failing. "it's my job, so..."
"you're corny," she mutters, taking a quick drag before letting the smoke billow out into the frigid air. she's studying you now, the way the orange lamp on the wall illuminates your features. you swear her eyes dip low for a split second, then back to your face. "i don't believe you like a single bit of this."
your shoulders deflate, heels scuffing against the pavement. your hands find your necklace, toying with the charm. cupid's bow. "like what? my dream job? that i worked hard for? i love it. i love love."
"that is such a lie." she chuckles. "i think you're bitter."
perhaps she still knows exactly who you are inside. all of your little tells. how you blink more when you lie, how you kick the ground when you're riled up. it's self-soothing.
ellie can read you to filth.
still, you proceed with your illusion of enthusiasm—if not to convince ellie, then to convince yourself.
"i'm bitter? please. i'm happy. but i was disappointed when i saw that you have changed. and not for the better."
now, she's laughing again. likely not expecting you to be so blunt, to actually confront her. but it felt good. "yeah? how'd i change?"
"you're an asshole." your words hang in the air, and it feels wrong now. but you can't stop. "jaded, and bitter, and mean. and i think you should get a life."
to that, ellie nods curtly. her shoes have become so interesting suddenly, the cigarette between her lips an excuse to be silent. get a life. she almost snorts.
you think you're certain of what changed ellie this way. and that very thing—that person—is flashing through her mind right now. and ellie was never like this before. she knows. she has changed, and she has no right to be down that you were disappointed in her. but she is; because why had she let herself turn out this way? and what good is it to be unkind to you?
she tuned out all of jesse's rambling about her needing something new, about her getting out of her own way in love. she still doesn't believe that. but maybe there was something valuable in it.
she drags her gaze over to you again, once, twice, thrice. you stand there, meek and ignoring her presence, and now ellie feels the need to fight a rising smirk. partly at her own blundering, and at the way you look.
too good to be true.
"you're cold?" ellie speaks up. "why didn't you bring a coat?"
"because i'm stupid and i don't think ahead," you deadpan, "is that what you're getting at?"
"no," she says, wrinkling her nose. "calm, darlin'. no more hostility. we're fine."
"are you mad at me?"
"no." ellie sighs. "actually, i'm thinking about getting a life."
"oh, good," you mumble, kicking a little pebble into the rain, and finally looking up. ellie's gawking further scares the shit out of you now. "how are you gonna do that?"
still, she looks over you, now tilting her head to one side. she's done that thing again where she closes a conversation before it's over, all in favour of something new. "what're you doing tonight? you got some way to relax after dealing with her all day?"
"just going home..." your brows pull taut, and there's a glint in ellie's eyes. too late, you realise it's cheekiness.
"it must be hard, you don't have anyone to take care of you, no?" she stomps out her cig, parading closer, and you take two steps back for every one of hers.
your back hits the wall, cologne permeating the air closest to your face.
"i'm gonna call a cab. come back to mine, yeah?"
"what the hell's wrong with you?" you whisper, bracing her with a hand on each of her shoulders. her breath warms the side of your neck, and yours hitches at the mere sensation.
it's the green light that ellie needed, and now, her hand grabs your jaw, lips brushing your nape. "you wanna come?"
"yeah," you say.
a gentle, quick kiss is placed upon your lips, and that is the beginning of your undoing. why, why, did she have to be gentle about this? she was already something you found hard to detach from, a vice, and to treat you delicately like this, it's the last thread to pull loose from the wound you stitched over the years.
it builds up, her kiss strong and warm, whiskey on her breath and her tongue gliding over your lower lip. your hands, they shake as you slide them into her hair, and a sudden frisson causes you to shoot up straighter when she takes a handful of your ass. she uses it to push you closer, her tongue invading your mouth the moment you gasp.
it's as if she tries to consume you whole.
you find yourself enjoying the idea of that too much.
she reaches for her phone in too much of a hurry, tearing away from your lips to find a number for a cab. you know that she can feel you panting against her neck, your impatient mouth brushing over a tiny mole.
she flicks a knowing look back to you and holds the phone to her ear, eyes hard like a warning not to try anything.
still, you lean down to the crook of her neck, where her top button is undone and exposing her clavicle. desperate to taste the salt of her skin, you press an open-mouthed kiss right there, starting a trail upwards. it's almost like you've taken on the challenge of breaking her nonchalant demeanour.
and you succeed.
the lightest break in her voice—a strain put on her mind, she forgets english.
you look up. it's the most subtle crack of the corner of her lips, a lopsided grin on her flushed face, that gets you to start giggling. ellie rolls her eyes, attempting to go back to some sort of neutral expression now.
"can't be patient for two minutes, can ya?" she pockets her phone after finishing the call, grabbing your jaw just as she did earlier, tilting your head up to bare your throat. "be good. cab's on the way."
and just like that, she resumes her earlier actions, lips attaching to your neck.
the pair of you stand close to the wall, huddling together in safety from the weather. ellie lets out the occasional chuckle, you coo when she so much as breathes over a sensitive spot. the rain falls sideways, nature forcing you into each other's arms. you'll take it. another sign, you think...
because this feels more than anything you've ever experienced. it isn't a hookup. it can't be. this is pent up hunger. it's tension having its way with you, so high that neither of you can do anything but act on it. it's destiny. the invisible string you're sure must have been tying you together is wrapping tightly around you, keeping your bodies bound chest to chest, lips to neck.
and almost like it pains her to pull away, ellie drags herself out of your neck when the yellow taxi parks on the curb. "c'mon."
you chance it and run through the rain together, hand in hand. she hears you laughing even through the sound of the rain, and pushes you into the cab first.
you take the middle seat in desire to be close to ellie, giving her no moment of peace the second she closes the door. she grunts as you start climbing all around her, leaning on her shoulder while she tries to tell the poor driver her address. you just need a reaction; hand squeezing her thigh, body so close she can't smell anything but you, or feel anything but your shivering.
"stop it," ellie whispers, "you whore."
you hold back a whine, conscious of the man subjected to your behaviour at the moment. you've never acted this way, not even remotely close to it. and ellie, she is just glad to be wanted. she barely wants this to stop. if she could, she'd have you squirming against the leather seats.
she leans back, legs spreading comfortably. she slaps your hand away before you can even inch down the inner seam of her slacks, rubbing over your knuckles with her thumb and staring out the window. with each pass of a streetlight you can see how rosy she's become.
cute.
"it's cold," you say, swallowing thickly.
"rain got you, huh?" ellie murmurs, pulling you into her side too naturally. she scowls at the window. she's under the influence of your perfume, what else could she do?
you spend the latter half of the drive fiddling with ellie's tie, her watching you do so with something of a smirk on her face. your restless energy is the most telling thing.
when pulling into the street, ellie fights you off of her and passes a hundred bucks to the driver. the rain has come to a halt for now, and she takes her time bringing you down the driveway and to the door.
the taxi speeds away the minute you get out.
at every moment, ellie can just feel you hanging around her. her tongue slowly licks over lips as she unlocks the door, planning her next move. what to do with you?
"shit— careful!" your jaw drops, nicknacks clanging against each other as ellie pushes you against a side table, throwing your hands out in front of you to save her furniture.
"it'll be fine," ellie says lowly, her chest to your back now. her hands roam everywhere, from their initial place on your waist, to grope at your tits, and then down your pants. "it's only you i'm concerned with right now."
you heart is aflutter, every second flickering by faster than usual. you throw your head against her shoulder when she cups your panties, you even hear her groan at the warmth down there.
"lace. you fucking kidding me?" ellie chuckles, rubbing over the material. "you're some kinda angel, aren't you?"
"what?" you whisper, turning to look her way. you wonder what it is she's seeing in you, heat pooling where her hand touches, rising from there to your chest and into your face. "y— yeah..?"
doe eyes, upturned eyebrows, quivering lips so kissable and sweet... ellie forces out a shaky exhale at the sight of you, now her voice a deep rasp. "you are unreal. definitely an angel."
you're stepping out of your heels on the way to the staircase, narrowly avoiding tripping, and stripping out of your blouse, just as she loses her jacket and tie.
the bedroom door busts open, hot tongues sliding together. your fingers fumble with the buttons of her shirt, she's unzipping your trousers and then smoothly gliding her way back to the clasp of your bra.
the longer it takes, the louder your whines are, though ellie swallows them without so much as a complaint, only pulling away once your bodies are bared to push you onto the bed.
she curses quietly, grabbing your hips and now laying back, pulling you over her. "here. want you on my fuckin' face, darlin'."
your heart almost beats out of your chest; her twang is back, the one you thought might've been gone and buried for good. there was no way you'd ignore whatever demand she made in the first place, but when it comes out like that, you're a goner.
and so your supple thighs rest either side of her head, hands flailing out to grab the headboard the second your pussy's on her mouth. "oh!"
"sit properly." hot skin spills out between her fingers when she takes a clumsy grip at your ass to pull you down, her voice muffled but eyes hooded; that predatory, snake-green gaze commands your attention.
and you writhe, body rolling with a mind of its own. you're unsure whether you're grinding down on her tongue, or trying to lift away out of sensitivity, but all of it's ridiculously sloppy. needy whimpers fall wildly from your lips, and you can't help but throw your head back.
"oh fuck, ellie!" you cry out, and you've never felt better. nothing worrisome intruding on your mind, in fact, nothing at all intruding on your mind. only her lightly suckling at your clit, the sensations keeping you higher than clouds. her tongue flicks impossibly faster at your thumping nerves, and you gasp. "just like that."
"yea, baby?" you hear the grin in her voice, you feel it against you—pure mischief in the way she repeats all the ministrations that get you moaning the loudest, and reaching up to squish your breasts in her palms, which you arch your back into.
when you lower your head again, you're stunned still by the look in her eyes, and the soft words let out between strokes of her tongue against your slick folds. "you are such a dream."
"oh, so good, i'm gonna... come." you use the headboard as leverage now, grinding precisely over ellie's lips, and she gives a pleased hum at your actions. "ellie..."
"come then," she says into your pussy, rolling your nipples between her fingers.
it washes over you in waves. a silent wave first, gasping for breath, then a whole lot of noise starts when the aftershocks kick in. she has your every move under control, hypnotised like your purpose is to bend to her will.
"oh, fuck, holy shit." you writhe messily now, legs shaking and squeezing tight on her ears. she won't let up, now scrunching your hips in her hands again in order to keep you perched over her face. all this just to hear you blubbering and whining in overstimulation.
finally you are freed, but ellie doesn't move. instead, she guides you into place between her legs, then rests her hands under her head and gives you a shiny smile. "down, down you go, atta girl."
smudging some makeup off your cheek, you wipe away the light sheen of sweat along your face and stare up, eyes half-lidded similarly to hers now. you sink your face into the space between ellie's strong thighs, kissing the red and engorged folds of her pussy.
instantly, one arm flies out to hold your head down, and she grits her teeth. "fuck. that's right, use that pretty mouth, angel."
auburn hairs tickle your nose and cheeks, and you're more than content staying buried right here with your lips wrapped around her clit, the bud swollen and aching under your sensuous licks, her taste as addictive as her touch.
the look in your eyes more salacious than ellie has ever seen before, the happy sounds you let out against her skin, the way you squirm between her legs; it's all got heat coiling tight in her stomach, so, so close to bursting.
"holy fuckin' shit, good, darlin'." ellie tightens her hold on your hair, pushing you closer to her cunt. "atta girl. keep goin'."
you swirl your tongue over her in circles, mewling at the little twitching of her clit, unaware that it's the first sign of her release.
"fuck, fuuuck, i'm gonna come." ellie pulls your hair tight at the root now, a sudden and sharp moan leaving her lips when her orgasm finally hits. her hips buck like a wild animal into your mouth, so rough you can't catch your breath until it's over.
she's lost for several seconds, and as soon as the sex-driven haze fades, she's aware of you peppering candy-sweet kisses along her pelvis, up the mesmerising trail of hairs under her navel.
"alright, c'mere."
you crawl up the bed as far as your trembling legs allow, dropping down at her side. your knee hooks over her waist and ellie's taken aback by the closeness, but she doesn't comment on it.
"you okay?" she breathes, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and flicking her gaze to your weak limbs.
"absolutely," you whisper, smiling into the crook of her neck.
"oh, good, you're up now."
you peel your eyes open, slow and painfully, bringing your hand up to rub them.
last night's mistake is holding you on her chest, the look on her face as unimpressed as it always seems to be.
"sorry, did i oversleep? you definitely could've woken me up."
"no, i couldn't've." ellie mutters something after that which you don't catch, and she pushes you away like you're some infectious parasite, sitting up.
despite the sharp sting you feel, you continue trying to smile at her. "i had fun last night..."
"yeah," she mumbles. ellie looks you up and down, from your dry makeup to her t-shirt hanging off your shoulders. she nods then, snorting. "well, so did i. should i call you a ride home?"
your smile falls real fast, an almost pout taking its place. "oh. that's... early, are you busy today?"
"sure. i just think it's best if you go home now darlin'."
sickness invades your system, boiling hot blood rushing to your face like a tsunami, and you can't look at ellie, now quickly rolling out of bed to collect your things and avoid tears.
it was going well, you thought.
now she's itching to throw you out.
and she follows you through her place, unable to get a word in with the way you stuff your belongings into your handbag, pulling on your trousers from yesterday and slipping into your shoes.
"hey—" ellie tugs on your wrist before you get to the door. she then fusses quietly with some hair behind her ear, the other hand passing you a jacket. "it's cold out there today."
how dare she?
"hey girl— ah." dina raises a quizzical brow, peeking over some planter boxes as she takes in the grim expression you greet her with. "what happened?"
freshly showered, dressed more modestly than before, and braving the world with a couple of tender marks on your neck, you've stepped into the floral side of enchantment everlasting to have what you like to call a 'debrief-with-dina' session.
"i've got a problem."
"you have many of those," she deadpans. before you can say anything else, dina lifts the boxes from the table to the floor, revealing her chubby-cheeked toddler who's trying to eat a flower. she glances back at him and sighs. "stop that, jj. those are bad."
you laugh softly, walking up to jj and leaning on the table. "hey bud."
"auntie!" he claps a couple times, dropping the flower and making grabby hands at you. you're quick to scoop him up for a much needed cuddle.
"whoo, you're getting heavier dude."
"i know," dina replies, laughing, "he's broad like his dad."
"big and strong!" jj chimes in. "like dada!"
you grin, putting the toddler down again, on the floor this time, so he can head off to his playpen. it's a small area fenced off in the corner of dina's shop, which you provided without her even asking. jj often spends days with you at enchantment everlasting, because he is still so young. it was necessary for him to have somewhere to play in.
but jj doesn't run off just yet. he tilts his head, narrows those big brown eyes. "what is on your neck? is auntie hurt?"
dina whips her head around, and you freeze in place.
"uh— no! no no, these are mosquito bites. very bad ones."
dina's cackling now, and you rub over the marks hastily, wishing they'd go away.
"ew!" jj exclaims, "those hurt!"
"so does your tummy when you don't listen to mama, and eat flowers," you tease, tickling his sides and causing him to run away.
now dina's closing in on you like a shark and you puff your cheeks out with a sigh, looking at the ground with your arms crossing. "yeah, yeah. i can think of, like, ten things you're probably about to say right now. just spit it out."
"who the hell did you fuck?"
"you won't like the answer." you start busying yourself by 'helping' around the shop, starting to cut up kraft paper for her to use in bouquets.
"don't tell me it was clara," dina says with a sigh. "again."
"what? no! i told you, i'm absolutely done with her," you say, words all rushed in desperation to defend yourself. "and i actually... like, enjoyed this one.'
"oh, okay, nice, we're moving up in the world." dina nods, chuckling at your refusal to look at her. "you're getting good sex for once in your life. i'm proud of you. now tell me who."
"i shouldn't kiss and tell!"
she says your name very sternly, which gives you a bit of a jolt.
"okay, okay, it was... ellie."
"huh?" dina winces. "williams?"
"what other ellie would i be talking about?"
"i don't know, i was hoping one who actually deserves to fuck you?" dina scoffs. "how did this even happen?"
"well, i told you that you weren't gonna like the answer," you mumble, setting down the scissors and shrugging. "she was a guest at the wedding. she was having a smoke when i tried to leave, and we were talking, and then... she called us a cab. and it was good."
"so how's your heart feeling this morning?" dina asks, dumping a whole pile of baby's breath on the table in front of you, along with a pair of shears to busy yourself with.
"hah..." you dryly laugh, starting to cut the stems. "it's fine. anyway..."
"be fucking honest, babe." dina glares at you. "or let me guess; she was an asshole about it, and then you cried, and now you're walking around like you got attacked by a whole buncha mosquitoes."
"i did not cry!" you blurt out. "the rest...? yeah."
dina exhales deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose. "okay. you're done with her now, yeah? we're nipping this one in the bud before it gets worse. i was really proud of you for leaving that dinner date early. you can maintain your progress now."
"i..."
dina takes your silence for the objection that it absolutely is, and she shakes her head. "come on... it's a lost cause. you probably won't ever have to see her again—let's keep it that way. don't go out of your way for anything. let her come grovelling, which i think is unlikely, or, let it fade into distant memory. you'll be over it before you know it."
you draw your lip between your teeth, and it's almost like absolutely everything is a reminder of ellie now. her lips were here just hours ago. now reality is slapping you in the face. not even dina's balmy voice can blanket the cold truth right now.
your teenage love is hopeless. this must stay the way it is now, forever; nothing but a two week stint, because life doesn't work like it does in the movies. there's no heated apologies in the rain and tossing pebbles at your window.
and you are a grown woman who is still troubled by her past.
your phone buzzes in the pocket of your jacket. you reach for it and grimace at the name on the screen, looking around cautiously to hide it from dina.
ellie: missing something..? :)
attached is a picture of your bra on her bedroom floor, the risqué crimson lace juxtaposed against the cozy laundry near it.
"fuck," you whisper to yourself, staring at the flowers ahead of yourself.
it's a favourite, this bra. you can't believe you didn't notice it missing when you got home, but then again, your entire being is frazzled today.
you: can i come get it back?
your phone pings again and this time you stifle a groan.
ellie: aww. i can't keep a memento from last night? you have my jacket.
you: absolutely not. i'm bringing the jacket back btw.
ellie: alright fine :[ ellie: hurry up and come get your lingerie.
you slipped out of the shop without so much as a word to dina. you're certain you know what you're doing.
why would this happen if you were not meant to reunite with ellie? the universe seems to have its little ways of forcing you towards her. there is no way this isn't divine intervention. what are the chances?
"hey." you shove ellie's jacket into her hands the moment she opens the door, a pitiful smile reaching your lips.
but she says nothing, only scanning you in such a way that makes you feel naked, a low whistle sounding before she steps aside to invite you in.
and you step in, this time making it further than the foyer, and actually being led into the living room. it's scarcely decorated, almost minimalist if you discount the movie posters and random action figures scattered around the room.
ellie clears her throat, nodding toward the end table next to her couch. on it sits two superhero figurines, both with an arm raised. your bra is resting between them, each strap looped over the toys like they're holding it up.
and she's stifling laughter.
you stand there and gawk at the setup, then scrunch your face at ellie. "how old are you again? is this really funny to you?"
"oh, yeah..." ellie chuckles, shrugging her shoulders and looking at the ground. "you don't think so..? i wanted to make you laugh."
"no— well, it's..." you trail off, flicking between your bra and ellie. unfortunately that really hits you hard. nine years ago, you would have laughed with her.
"you just kinda looked, y'know, miserable as hell this morning." ellie pushes her hands into her pockets, sauntering closer almost cautiously, like you are a small animal she doesn't want to startle. "just needed to see you laugh."
your shoulders fall from their hunched position, eyes studying ellie. seeing her in casual attire, for the first time since you were young, it's just odd. she still dresses the same, never maturing past the graphic tee and flannel shirt combo, and the only thing that you hate about it is that she isn't that same smiley girl anymore. she's just—to put it the way you did last night—an asshole.
an asshole who looks very concerned right now. an asshole who you're starting to think must not be that bad deep down. her kindness cannot have just fled forever. it has to be in there somewhere.
"have you thought any harder about getting a life?" you ask, brows raised as you snatch your lingerie up and shove it into your bag like it's something clandestine she's never seen before.
there's a very brief pause, ellie meeting your eyes, and her arms crossing over her chest. "do not get attached to me."
"what— who the hell said i was doing that?" your voice is tender, tiny, and timid, and you're winded, as though someone pulled a chair out from under you.
why the fuck would she say something like that?
ellie's chest rises and falls with a quick and heavy sigh, her lips pursing. she almost seems like she can't bear to watch your reaction, but stays looking anyway. "don't look at me like that."
"what, how am i looking at you?" you reply. just like always, your hands go to your necklace, twisting and pulling the bow charm. ellie notices.
"you're looking at me like a wet sock. and you did it earlier, too. and at dinner a few weeks ago."
her tone is much more reserved now. and absolutely uncomfortable.
"stop looking at me like that."
"well i should probably go," you say. you can't walk another step without ellie grabbing your shoulders and shaking her head.
"no, no, no, wait." she pulls you close, if only to take a drag of your perfume in the air and to press her fingertips against the hickeys along your neck. "hey. don't go yet, okay? i didn't even get to tell you how pretty you look in this dress."
"you whistled at me in the doorway. wasn't that flattering by the way."
"no, no, i mean it now," ellie says—she almost whines the words. "c'mon, angel."
you look up to the ceiling, willing yourself not to just roll your eyes, and instead find tears brimming your lash line.
and when ellie sees this—well, that just won't fly. her eyes darken, arm snug around your waist. "c'mon. breathe. don't be upset. please. can i make you laugh?"
you keep your face tucked against her neck, making sure she can't see you wanting to smile. and you feel so stupid for it.
"what did the fish say when he swam into a wall?"
you huff into her neck. ellie can't help but chuckle, knowing she's fumbling, knowing this isn't impressing you at all.
"ugh, come on. you were the only person who ever found me funny. am i just not the shit anymore?" ellie sways you back and forth, squeezing tight.
"no," you mutter. "not really."
"dam."
"...was that the punchline?"
she starts laughing against your hair. "see, you do still find me funny."
"regrettably."
everything about ellie is a regret at this point.
the biggest one was letting cat take her.
"do you want to hear another—?"
"no."
ellie soughs, the peaceful circles she's rubbing into your back starting to dip lower. "are you sure? i've got a huge arsenal. i've learned new shit since we were kids."
"no thank you," you say firmly. "i don't wanna hear any more shitty—"
"are you a campfire? 'cause you're really hot, and i kinda want s'more..." ellie clears her throat and covers a laugh at her own line. "you get me..?"
"wait—"
she doesn't wait. she gently cups your cheek and tilts your head to the side, placing a kiss to the warm skin now exposed. her hand on the small of your back begins to move even lower, and yeah, you're fucked. arousal begins to pool in your panties, and you aren't sure whether it's worse that her pickup line worked, or that you're letting things go this far again.
"shh." ellie looks away for a moment, and the next thing you know she's falling back onto the couch, pulling you onto her lap. somehow you are worse than last night; absolutely desperate, squirming over ellie's lap, and she holds you tight to combat this. "you are so greedy."
"shut up," you whisper, a shudder causing your voice to crack when ellie runs her hand along your smooth thigh, fingertips caressing just below the hem of your dress.
ellie leaves a trail of kisses from your jaw to your lips, her brows creasing when you inch away, and she chases you until your back hits the seat and she's leaning over you. now your hand rakes through her hair, a terrifyingly heavy kiss leaving you pinned under her.
"that's— that's it," ellie stammers, pushing your dress up to reveal your panties. she grins, pulling the damp cotton to the side and sliding her fingers against the warm skin. she collects some of your wetness along them, putting some grit into her voice now. "so fuckin' messy, yeah? do you want me to fuck you?"
"yes," you reply, taking a shaky breath in. she is still languidly rubbing her knuckles through your sodden pussy, occasionally probing at your entrance. she likes the way you react every single time with a little jolt. "please."
"okay. i'll see what i can do for ya." she is pleasantly surprised by your pleading, and absolutely eager to reward it.
a high moan elicits from you when two fingers sink inside your cunt, gentle, curling into you. her digits reach deeper than you can ever feel yourself, and you're quickly beginning to move your hips in tandem with her slow fingering.
"you feel so fuckin' good," ellie says in a throaty murmur, letting out the mildest noises as you clench around her. "you're so fuckin' gorgeous, i hope you realise that."
"ah, shit, right there," you breathe out as ellie touches a certain spot, angling your hips as desperately as you can to open yourself up to her and take even more.
"don't start making demands," ellie warns, beginning to pick up a heady pace. a creamy ring forms around her knuckles and she gapes down at your soaked cunt, uttering a curse at the lewd sight.
you are panting and mewling, head lulling to the side and back arching off the couch, her name the only word you can manage now.
"atta girl, you just keep takin' it for me." ellie leans over you fully, attaching herself to your neck. she kisses over every mark she left last night, almost hoping to make them even darker. "i got you."
her thumb grazes your clit just the slightest bit, your noisy reaction spurring ellie to rub tight circles over the nub now, speeding up her movements and thrusting her fingers in with practised speed.
you begin to feel lightheaded and fuzzy, and ellie talking you through it all is what it takes for you to reach a high beyond just pleasure—it's like you're being guided to pure ecstasy.
"oh, yeah, atta fuckin' girl," ellie praises, keeping her movements steady through all of your wriggling and trembling, using her free hand to hold your hips down. "good, darlin'."
it takes some time for your laboured breathing to go back to normal, ellie holding you close and licking her hand clean like it's nothing, pulling your panties back into place ever so kindly.
"did you say you had somewhere to be?" she asks now, patting your backside twice. "you best get going."
you walk back to your car—with every single one of your items intact this time—except your dignity.
you're heading back for another debrief-with-dina session, bracing for a scolding.
holy... this was a long one. i hope you like it ♡
ellie's country accent comes out again whenever she's turned on or angry or excited ^^ so cute. she's also really mean. i'm sorry. she'll be sweet soon! things are gonna really start picking up next chapter!
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