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ellastone-olsen · 4 months

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Beggin’ on her knees to be popular - Elizabeth Olsen

★Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x f!reader

Summary: New person with Elizabeth Olsen at the Golden Globes. It seems like a lot of attention is attached to you two, let's see what happens at the end of the celebration.

★Warnings: very little NSFW, fluff, hurt/comfort

★Word count: 1k

★AN: In no way is it an insult to the winners, just as a fan of Lizzie, this is my alternative version. It hurt me to look at her upset face my poor baby. I also changed the design of my fics a little.

The crowd of people grew larger and swallowed you up, taking you somewhere away. Celebrities and their partners arrived every minute, filling the once spacious street. You grabbed Elizabeth's hand so that these strangers wouldn't separate you in their haste. The event was starting.

A few hours ago, you sat on a chair in a room filled with books and watched as makeup artists put the finishing touches on the image of your beloved. Your mouth watered at the sight of her white dress, which made her look too much like a bride. She was beaming with happiness, but when everyone left the room, leaving you alone, the smile disappeared from her face. You stand up from chair and walked up to her, gently taking her hand to kiss it.

“Are you worried?” You asked looking at her, but her head was lowered and gaze was fixed somewhere on the floor. A hum of agreement was all she “said.” You sighed and took her face in your hands as carefully as possible so as not to ruin her makeup. “Hey look at me, I'll be there, you're always a winner to me anyway. Do you hear?" Her big green eyes expressed gratitude and she leaned towards you for a soft kiss. You stood opposite each other for some time, touching your foreheads, until someone entered the room to announce the arrival of the car.

Your thoughts returned to the present time, as you watched from the sidelines as Elizabeth posed for the paparazzi. Not a trace of that uncertainty remains. Now all attention was focused on your beloved and your heart swelled with tenderness and pride, cries of her name were heard from different sides and you were sure that today she would take the reward.

From somewhere, aftersound of gossip about the two of you reached your ears. “They came together?” “So those rumors are true, have you seen the paparazzi pictures?” A sigh of irritation escapes you, of course Lizzie was not the kind of person to advertise her personal life. You never put pressure on her in this topic and did not think that she was hiding or ashamed of you. But how much you wanted to declare to the whole world that this woman is yours, and you are hers. Another thing that you expected from this day was to dot all the i��s about you.

Everyone sat down in places that had been pre-allocated for everyone. You took a seat next to Elizabeth and placed her hand on your burgundy velvet clad knee and covered it, woven your fingers together. It seems like someone at the next table was staring at you. The day dragged on slowly and you were already starting to get annoyed by this leading man spawned from nowhere, who is he anyway?

A couple of times you stood up to applaud Emma Stone, she was your favorite among all these celebrities (unless of course you count the woman in white nearby) and you were sincerely happy for her victory. Sitting in one place was torture and you fidgeted in your chair waiting for a break, Elizabeth also noticed this and leaned over and whispered in your ear to be patient a little. 20 minutes, 10 minutes, 5 minutes, lo and behold. The bell that signaled a break sounded like a blessing from above.

You were sewing somewhere in the labyrinth of corridors and Lizzie’s hand gently slid into yours. “There are two nominations left, very soon we will go home.” The woman clearly studied the plan of the event, unlike you. “When we arrive, we will celebrate your victory.” You stroked her hand with the pad of your thumb. Countless stars passed by, someone again looked with surprise, noticing your clasped hands, someone simply smiled. “Darling, I haven’t won anything yet, and maybe I won’t win at all.” The tone with which she said this sounded upset again. You stopped and gently pushed her back against the wall, your hands resting on her shoulders. Looked into her eyes and leaned in for a gentle kiss, ignoring the people nearby. Taylor Swift giggled a little as she walked by.

When your lips parted, your shaky breath hung in the heated air. Your hand found her again and pulled her somewhere into the far dark corner of the corridor, where there was not a soul to witness your teenage incontinence.

“Baby, not here, you’re going to eat all my lipstick.” Elizabeth laughed as your hands rested on her hips. “Mmmmm but you are so beautiful in this dress, and besides, I want these pessimistic thoughts to leave your sweet head and it seems...” The skirt of the dress was bunched up in the middle of her soft thighs. “I found a good way.” Your knee was pressed between her legs and she started grinding slowly the soft velvet fabric of your pants. “Mmmmmm Y/N.” She grabbed onto your shoulders for balance and you brought one hand down to her clothed center and stroked the sensitive bud. It was already so hot and wet between her legs, your head was spinning. "Lizzie...my love." Your mouth hovered over her collarbones, placing small kisses so that there would be no hickeys left.

The damn bell announced the continuation of the event and you tore yourself away from the woman with a roar, straightening the skirt of dress. “I hope you brought lipstick with you.” You giggled and earned a playful slap on your ass from her. "I love you too." You managed to shout before she disappeared into the toilet.

Lizzie’s nomination was approaching and you were nervous, picking at the pad of your thumb with your index nail to the point where it hurt to hold the champagne glass. “And the Golden Globe goes to...” You stopped breathing, squeezing Elizabeth’s hand tighter, all the next words came to you as if you were at the bottom of the ocean. "Elizabeth Olsen." The hall erupted in applause, Lizzie looking at you with a beaming smile. When you came to your senses, you nodded towards the stage. The cameras were trained on the two of you and before leaving, the woman leaned over and kissed you, not for the last time that day.

#elizabeth olsen #lizzie olsen #lizzie olsen my wife #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda fanfic #golden globes #wandanat x reader #wanda x you #SoundCloud #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x you

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according2thelore · 9 months

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You are married to Sam Winchester. You don’t have a name.

You met him in a bar. Or a park. Or a diner where you worked. Or a library you were studying in. Or on the bus route back to your apartment. Or in the frozen aisle of a grocery store. The location doesn’t matter, but you know that you know him. That’s all you need to know. He smiles at you, and you smile back. He’s nice to look at, in the way that shards of stained glass are nice to look at. In the way that car crashes are captivating, in the way that a tree can be both dead and alive at once, in the way that homes disappear one room at a time. It doesn’t matter. You open your mouth to introduce yourself but the waitress-librarian-cop-bus driver-clerk talks over you. He never asks again. I’m Sam, he says. It’s a nice name. He’s got a nice face.

Dating him is easy. He never asks any questions about you. You ask questions about him, but he doesn’t like it, so you learn to stop. I had a brother, he offers once, in the way that someone says, I tried to kill myself. You nod. His name is Dean. It’s odd, maybe, that he refers to Dean in both past and the present tense. He doesn’t like it when you question things like that, though, so you keep quiet. Sam says strange things sometimes, when you’re sitting entwined on your couch watching reality TV. I killed monsters. They killed me, sometimes, too. He says. Your eyes go wide. He reassures you, It doesn’t matter. You melt back against him.

Oh, okay. As long as it doesn’t matter, that’s alright with you.

You get married. You get married in a courthouse, because Sam doesn’t like churches. I’ve made too many promises in churches, he said. I can’t break any more.

Okay, you say. You never liked churches much anyway. Or maybe you do. Maybe you believe in God. Sam doesn’t. He says he killed God. You believe him, because he’s got a knife carved from bone hidden under your boxspring. He keeps herbs and finger bones in jars and a golden bowl in your china cabinet, and won’t let you touch them. When the clerk hands you your wedding certificate, you smile as Sam kisses you. You’re excited when you take the paper from him, hoping to see your name. But in the space where it’s supposed to be is blank. Sam rubs a finger over Marriage Certificate, then over his name scribbled in pen. It’s perfect, he says, looking up at you with distant stars in his eyes. Oh. Okay, it’s perfect. That’s good.

He cries out for Dean in his sleep. Night terrors so severe that they upend you from his bed shake him awake once a week. He screams in a language you’ve never heard before. After those nights, Sam doesn’t look you in the eye. He doesn’t talk after nightmares, and you don’t know how to shake him back to consciousness.

You catch him in the reflex of doing things. Odd things set him off. A rerun of that medical drama you binged in undergrad shuts Sam down, and he doesn’t come home until after dinner. An Asia song plays in a grocery store and Sam drops the milk in the middle of the aisle. You find him having a panic attack behind your car in the parking lot.

He has an old car in the apartment’s parking garage that you’re not allowed to touch. It’s vintage—a beautiful thing, because you know a lot about cars or maybe you don’t—and it’s got an arsenal in the trunk. He buries salt lines in your yard. If you sneak up behind him, he’s got a knife to your throat before you can explain yourself.

Sam laughs at something on his phone, and goes to show someone, but it’s always only you there. It seems to disappoint him. When he’s upset, he gets more upset when you say the wrong things. It’s a dance that you don’t know the steps to, and Sam’s too tired to teach you.

It’s okay, you’ll learn yourself. You buy him almonds at the grocery store. You always keep the thermostat above seventy two degrees Fahrenheit. You always grab him a second of whatever you get: a beer, a sandwich, a blanket. You sleep on the side of the bed closest to the door. It’s not perfect. When you do the laundry, he gets frustrated with you because you fold things “too big.” He always orders two sides of fries. He buys ground beef that he doesn’t eat.

He has a dog. The dog doesn’t like you, but it doesn’t not like you either. Sam hates you for it. Dean loves this dog. He loves Dean, too. Sam told you. You wilt. Another test failed. Dean’s really good at this game, but you’re not. Dean’s good at most games, at least the games that Sam likes to play. You try to love the dog more after that, giving him treats and actually cooking the ground beef Sam throws away every week to feed him. When Sam sprints into the kitchen as the smell wafts through the house, he collapses when he sees it’s just you. He doesn’t talk the rest of the weekend.

Sam gets a job at the factory. Or the construction site. Or the law firm. Or the local community college. You work as a nurse. Or a doctor. Or a cop. Or a secretary. Or a chef. It doesn’t matter. The details are blurry. Sam invites you to a Christmas party with his coworkers. This is my wife, Sam says, proud. His coworkers smile, but they never ask your name. You don’t have one. That’s alright with you, as long as it’s alright with Sam. You’d hate to embarrass him at a work party.

You have sex. You get pregnant. You have a kid. Those things happen in some kind of order, but it gets mixed up sometimes.

You’ve always wanted a girl probably, but when you look into the face of your son, you realize that you’ve never wanted anything as much as you want this child. Or maybe you never wanted kids. But you have one now, and he’s your priority. You’re a good mom.

Sam didn’t have a good mom, didn’t have a mom until he was in his thirties, but she didn’t last long. So it’s important to him that you’re a good mom for his son. You’re going to take the job seriously.

We should name him Dean, you suggest, and Sam sobs into your hair. Your chest warms pleasantly. You like it when Sam holds you like this. When Sam shows you the birth certificate, your eyes catch on the name. Dean Winchester Junior? You ask. That’s for naming a child after a parent. Sam looks at the baby in your arms—wait, now it’s in his arms—and says, Dean is as much of a part of this as either of us.

The space for Mother of Child is blank. You’ve never seen a picture of Dean Winchester. Or Dean Winchester, Sr. now.

You fall asleep in an apartment and wake up in a house with a porch and a white-picket fence. That’s nice. It’ll give the dog space to run around. In your child’s sixth month alive, Sam sleeps in the child’s crib with a knife. Just to make sure, he says. Nothing’s going to happen to Dean. It takes him a long time to say the name without flinching when he’s talking about his son. When your son turns a year old, you finally remember to ask what Sam’s tattoo means. He looks surprised that you’ve mentioned it. It’s a tattoo that I got with Dean. He says. Of course it is. You’re angry, but it’s gone again, because these are things you’re supposed to accept about Sam. It keeps demons from possessing me. Demons? You ask, startled. Sam’s mouth thins into a line. Yes. You need to get one, he says. And the second that Dean turns sixteen, I’m signing that form and we’re taking him in to get one, too. You’re alarmed, until Sam tells you that it’s okay. That’s a relief. You get the tattoo, right over your left breast, and Sam fucks you so hard that you can’t walk the next day. You introduce your family to your boss one day, This is Sam and Dean!, and Sam shoves the baby into your arms and has to leave the room. We’re calling him Dean Junior from now on, Sam says later, after the hunted look in his eyes melts into exhaustion. Alright.

You clean the house. You wear sundresses. You like your job, but not enough to let it get in the way of being a mother. Sam teaches Dean Junior how to throw a ball. He helps him with math homework. You make meatloaf and take Dean Junior to soccer games.

You realize late—too late, maybe—that all the pictures of you on the mantle are a little blurry. You can’t remember the last time you saw your own reflection. You pull out your driver’s license. It’s blank, just your address. No picture of you. Your hair colour is just “dark.” No height. “Thin” is your weight. You speed on the way home from work so you can get pulled over. You hand over your empty license and your blank registration, and the cop barely gives either a glance. You’re free to go. He says. Everything’s in order.

You walk in the front door, and Sam kisses you on the cheek. He’s had to get glasses recently, and they make his face look even more handsome. Welcome home, honey, he says, smiling. Do you remember when you told me you killed God? You ask, because that sounds vaguely familiar. Sam blinks at you in confusion for a couple of seconds. The house shudders around you for a second.

Yes, Sam says, voice distant. Yes, I think I did. There’s a new God now though. I helped raise him. He’s a good kid. The house stills. There is no room for nasty things here. Only good. You nod, relieved. I’m glad he’s a nice boy, you say, picking up your son. If anyone could raise God, you could.

Sam looks haunted by this. He retreats.

Sam doesn’t tell you everything. Sam won’t ever tell you everything.

You look into the face of your son as he swings his legs lightly against your hip. He’s got green eyes, and he’s sucking on his thumb, a nasty habit you’ve tried to break. Sam shows Dean Junior pictures of his brother. He tells him stories, when Dean Junior’s asleep, about the open road, about cicadas and fireworks and greasy diner food and sunscreen and used textbooks and ash.

You sit on the opposite side of the door and cry because this man is a catastrophe and he hunted monsters and he loves everything more than you thought anyone could love anything. He’s half a soul, crammed into one body, edges ragged. He’s over two hundred years old. And he likes cherry slushies and he’s killed angels and he dreams of his brothers hands and he’s seen the face of God.

I love your uncle, you had heard his voice, a low murmur in Junior’s nursery one night. Sometimes I don’t know how to exist and be so unknown. Even when we didn’t speak, he knew me. No one has known me in years. I don’t think anyone will ever know me again.

You kiss him and try to make it like his brother would do it. He’s grateful. Sam’s grateful for a lot of things. He calls your lives together an “apple pie life.” But you don’t like apple pie. Or maybe you do. It doesn’t matter.

It’s okay. You’re just Sam Winchester’s wife. You’ve got a son named Dean.

You’ve spent your whole life sharing them both with a dead man.

crossposted on ao3 here

#supernatural #sam winchester #sam and dean #spn #ao3 #sam winchester's blurry faceless nameless thin wife #an icon truly #she's for the people #gencest #weirdcest #implied sam/dean #samdean #wincest #charlotte will be drawing this!!!! because she's the best!!!! and talented!!! mwah mwah mwah!!!#and i'm not just saying that bc she's reading this over my shoulder #lizzy writes

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prismatic-ink · 5 months

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what if Lizzie didn't die?

nobody's ever fallen out of the void before, so no participant has ever come back to tell the tale of what that's like. the communicator says she's eliminated, and everyone shrugs and carries on, because for all they know, she is. Maybe there is a ground to hit down there, or some monster that swoops in and kills in a single blow.

but the thing is - there's no end in a void. it just continues forever. and ever. and ever. it's simple physics; a void/vacuum is a blank space, a complete and total absence of anything at all. there's nothing there that could have killed Lizzie because, by definition, nothing is in the void at all. not even time could have gotten her.

now imagine being condemned to a place (or as close to a place as the void can get) where you will never see anything again, hear anything again, falling falling falling, towards a ground that will never appear. a place where you can never look into anyone's eyes ever again. eventually, a green streak in brown hair is the only memory you have of another human existing that hasn't been lost to the millennia you've spent falling. this place where you will be the only thing that exists, the only thing that will exist, and the only thing that has ever existed, slipping through the cracks of time, eternally in solitude.

wouldn't that be a fitting place for a woman who spent all her time on solid ground alone, with almost nobody to care for her? falling so far out of the bounds of reality even the watchers don't know she's still alive? so beyond the reach of anybody that nobody will ever hear her calls for them to come to her, let alone heed them? and let's be honest, if they could hear her, would they even come?

and who knows, maybe when the next season rolls around, for some strange, inexplicable reason, the watchers can't find Lizzie. It's no trouble, they can construct a new Lizzie from her memory, even if it's one season behind. and maybe this time, Lizzie has better luck and lots of friends. she doesn't really get why Scar is so apologetic, or Joel so clingy, or even why she constantly feels like she's teetering on the edge of a precipice, about to fall. but that's just her being silly, right?

all the while the original Lizzie falls forever. forgotten again.

#and this is why the canary curse still exists AYYY #but i wanted the post to be about Lizzie because people should be talking about how she's the most tragic life series character ever #and i will die on this hill #but also imagine Joel reunited with his wife ESPECIALLY if he wins #and him being like “hey i avenged you!”#but even if he feels that something is off he won't ever know that the original Lizzie is still falling and always will be #wait i just realized this technically means that she would win Secret Life no matter what LMFAO i love terrible HCs you think up at 3 am #secret life #trafficblr #ldshadowlady #smallishbeans #tagging him even though he's a small mention #felt like it counted #my post

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intercosmiiic · 5 months

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Martyn after all the other reds are dead:

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inkymeii · 2 months

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"save me beautiful ocean goddess... save me" - kristen applebees probably

#lizzie ldshadowlady #ldshadowlady #empires smp #fantasy high #dimension 20 #kristen applebees #ocean queen lizzie couldve saved kristen..#i miss my hot 10 ft tall ocean fish bisexual transfem goddess wife #kristen wouldve loved god joel too icl #inkys art

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crescentfool · 1 year

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graduation day 🌸

#persona 3 #minato arisato #makoto yuki #lizzy does art #HELLO EVERYONE... i humbly offer a minato in these trying times... are you all prepared for the wave of march 5th art bc aha! im sure not #i looked at the promised day tag on twitter and GAAAH THE WORKS ARE ALL SOOO BEAUTIFUL #truly it touches my heart that soo many people are still drawing fan art for this important day even 16 years after the game has released #this is my second time celebrating it! and i couldn't be more grateful to have met minato and see his story....#genuinely though his growth throughout p3 is sooooo loooovely and it's rlly hard to put in words. but like. god. i love my wife #dont look @ me for calling him that. i have seen other ppl call him wife material in the tags. they're right btw #oh and uh if u want u can look at my art for last year its smwhere in my art tag.... i like to think i hav improved... LOL #anyway thats all i have to say... i will rb and cry and sing to kimi no kioku tmrw since its still the 4th where i live. take care everyon!

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esotericdaydreams · 2 years

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#relatable💋💋

#coquette #girlboss #otessa moshfegh #female manipulator #femcel #feminine #girlblogging #soft pink #sofia coppola #lana del rey #ottessa moshfegh #my year of rest and relaxation #girl interrupted #i need a lobotomy #whisper girl #trad wife #girlblogger #lizzy grant #diet coke

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shakaprio · 22 days

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i can’t stop quoting this

it’s been 2 years

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fountainpenguin · 5 months

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Secret Life Ep 6 - 38:40 into Joel's POV:

Joel: My wife's just died!

Skizz: I know! I wanted to come and say I'm so sorry. You're feeling terrible, aren't ya?

Skizz: [...] Believe it or not, I woke up in Lizzie's house after I died.

Joel: What the-?

Skizz: I wanted to tell you about that; I figured I should level with ya.

Joel: ...

Joel: That's pretty awkward...

#SKIZZ???? EXCUSE ME??#trafficblr #Secret Life #Joel Smallishbeans #Skizzleman #Riddle watches Traffic #smh what has the Heart Foundation been up to?#mcyt #Obsessed with Joel running around this episode yelling 'My wife! Wife wife wife!' <3 #Lizzie LDShadowLady #Secret Life spoilers #Secret Life SMP spoilers #traffic spoilers #traffic life smp

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yappingwithanya · 4 months

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#elizabeth olsen #golden globes #anyaeras #wanda maximoff #lizzie olsen #elizabeth chase olsen #love and death #sorry for your loss #silent house #wind river #my wife #lesbian

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ellastone-olsen · 21 days

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Awwwww they’re so adorable how she loves him 🥺

#elizabeth olsen #i love you lizzie #lizzie olsen my wife

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buddyhollyscurls · 1 year

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Personally, I feel everyone even Jane Austen herself is a tad bit mean when it comes to the character of Mrs. Bennet and should shift some on that to Mr. Bennet. Like yes she's a silly, neurotic woman but can u like blame her?

Her husband failed to do anything for their children. He stopped being involved in their education probably around Mary's childhood, did not save or plan for the future of FIVE women at all, and not only that he's so unbothered by ANYTHING at all like Mr. Collins - the heir to his estate and fortune - stops by and he doesn't even tell his family?????? until he's about to arrive?????? Not only that it's kind of cruel the way he does it like haha u guys know how yall are women so u don't inherit shit? well, the dude that can come and turn u all out on ur asses - which is mostly my fault bc i didn't do shit to make sure u all are provided for once I'm gone - is about to arrive so hehe.

Like in what other way is Mrs. Bennet supposed to behave in that era where her daughter's futures were entirely dependent on the wealth of the man they marry. And honestly, i think Mrs. Bennet was almost too kind to Mr. Bennet I'd have been very bitter knowing that even tho we tried for a son - hence all the daughters - he still did nothing to ensure their financial security. Like these girls could have ended up destitute and it'd be entirely his fault. I always saw Mrs. Bennet as a mother who was just trying to do the best she could to look out for her daughters given the circumstances.

#like don't get me wrong #i love that he loves lizzy hes funny but tbh he is overall a piss poor dad #like he did not give a shit about the wellbeing of his family until his youngest daughter was near social ruin #pride and prejudice #jane austen #and like ik a lot of the reason Mr bennet isn't an active figure in the family is bc hes unhappy in their marriage #mrs. bennet did not turn out to be the partner he wanted for a wife mother #but their relationship shouldn't affect his involvement with his children #like i feel like their marriage was painted as poor Mr bennet married a silly woman and that made him unhappy #but i also feel that mrs. bennet didn't exactly luck out for a partner as well #i'd have a lot of resentment if i realized that bc my husband is unhappy with me he checks out of being a parent to the kids WE createdi #idk i have a lot of thoughts on their relationship

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aloneodi · 1 year

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First date | Elizabeth Olsen

Summary: the first date but not their first date

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x male reader

Warning: little bit suggestive at the end, mentions of having sex and Y/N being overprotective and old schooled daddy~

Elizabeth's pov

"Have you told him?" I look at Ellie and smile. She is so worried that Y/N wont allow her to go on that date she is so looking forward to. Secretly I'm worried too. I mean Eddie is dating since he is 16 and Y/N is ok with it, but this is his daughter and eventhough Ellie is nearly 17, to him she is still a little girl. Thank God he is strictly anti-gun because otherwise I could totally picture him sitting on the porch and cleaning his gun when the poor boy arrives.

"I will tell him now. I'll be back in a couple of minutes" I give her a another smile and make my way to our room. I knock and get in. He is on the phone so I decide it is best to bring him in a good mood. I walk around the desk and curl up in his lap. He smiles down at me and finishes his call.

"Why Mrs. L/N did you miss me while l was in here" he says with a sexy smirk and even after nearly 20 years of beeing married this particular smirk makes me squirm a little. "I miss you whenever I'm not with you but actually we need to talk."

"What have the kids done now" I giggle when he looks annoyed because every discussion about the kids starts with 'we need to talk'.

"Well they are all good, but there is something Ellie wanted to tell you but she was a little worried of your reaction so she asked me to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"There is a nice boy in her school and he asked her on a date. She would really like to go, you know eat at a diner go to the movies maybe they go to the pool hall after that a typical teenie date." Y/N gapes at me and next he get's up with me in his arms, plops me down on his chair and starts to pace in our room while he runs both hands through his hair. Crap thats not good.

"Liz, baby, she is a child, she is way to young for a date. The answer is no!" he says with finality in his voice but I'm not going to let him ruin this for Ellie.

"Y/N, Ellie is almost 17 she is not a little girl anymore, Besides Eddie is dating since he is 16 don't you think that this is double standard." he glares at me and when I first met him that look would have made me cringe but now I glare back at him.

"Elizabeth that's different Ellie is a girl and I know what teenage boys want and they won't do that with any of my daughters. I mean imagine we let her go and two months from now she tells us she is pregnant. I'm not ready to be a grandpa" Ok thats ridiculous and I roll my eyes at him.

"First Ellie is not the kind of girl who has sex on the first date and second she is on the pill..."

"WHAT?" Y/N damn near screams and now I do cringe. Shit I never told him. "Lizzie why is our daughter on the pill. Is there something I don't know?"

"Y/N please calm down. I haven't told you about this because Ellie was so embarrassed that she had to tell me that she made me promise not to tell anyone else. A year ago she told me that she had really bad cramps when ever she got her period. So I took her to Dr. Greene and she told us that this is very common for young girls and that the pill could help. So we tried and it worked. This has nothing to do with birthcontroll for Ellie."

"Oh really, last time I checked the pill was birthcontroll. If she has cramps than she can take painkillers or take hot bath."

"Y/N please I don't want my daughter to take painkillers five days every month, thats not exactly healthy and Ellie knows that if she wants to have sex, she has to tell the boy to use a condom."

"You had the talk with her?"

"Of course I had 'the talk' with her. I don't want to be a grandma either. Well not right now. And do you want to know what she told me. Ellie told me that she would wait with sex until she knows she has found the right guy. She is very mature for her age, but we have to give her some space. It's one date and I already told her that she could not go without Ryan following her and you know what, she is ok with that as long as he doesn't sit at her table while dinner or in the same row in the cinema. So the worst that could happen is that they are holding hands or kiss..."

"Kiss" Y/N gasps and I have to stiffe a smile because he looks shocked. "Yes Y/N teenagers do kiss."

"Not my daughter she is too young!" Oh Y/N!

"Y/N we have to let her make her own expirience and I'd rather she asks us and we can meet the boy than her telling us she is going to friends house and meeting someone behind our backs. Besides all her friends are already dating and Ava she has her third boyfriend already"

"Well she is Collin's and Scar's daughter that was to be expected" Y/N mutters petulantly. "Come on baby I know this is hard on you but remember we have two more daughters and they will all start to date eventually see it as practice" I say with a smirk and he walks over to the desk again picks me up, sits down and puts me back in his lap.

"Fine, I want to meet the little fucker and if I don't like him they are staying here where I can watch him. Wait why don't we go with them?" Ok now I'm laughing. "You can't be real Y/N we can't go with them Ellie would die of embarrassment cuz everyone in school would make fun of her and you know how paparazzi is, they will follow us and it will be lot of trouble"

"Why?" he looks at me like this is a serious question and I think he is really thinking of doing it. "Because no teenage girl wants a double date with her parents how would you have felt if your parents wanted to go on a date with you and a girl you liked?"

"I would have felt that they are very responsable and-" I hold both hands up to stop him "Oh please you would have not felt like that. Look we agreed she can go once we met him so I'm going to tell her that he should come here to pick her up on friday and you can call Ryan now and talk to him." I kiss him quickly and leave our room before he can change his mind though I really hope that Ryan can talk some sense into my constantly worried husband.

Friday evening (Ellie's date night)

I sit in the family room and sip on my wine while looking lovingly at my poor husband. Thank god our younger kids are staying at my parent's house tonight so he can only drive himself and me crazy. He has called Ryan every day since I told him about the date on sunday, Actually I was ready to tell Ellie to go on her date on tuesday just to get this over with. Poor Ryan by now Y/N has compiled a 5 pages long list with things he has to watch and of course Y/N told him that he would be fired if Ellie gives him the slip or if they have sex.

Louis, my husband's dear manager is a wreck too because he was trying to convince Y/N that it was not possible to run a background check on everyone who will be in the diner or the cinema. Of course that wasn't safe enough for my darling control freak so now he has a deal with the manager of the cinema that no matter which movie they want to watch, the will watch it alone.

"Of course Ellie nearly threw a fit when she heard that but I calmed her down and also talked Y/N out of renting a diner for the evening as well as that would have been just too much. Jeez he was never that crazy with Eddie, but than again Eddie is just like Y/N, he looks just like him and he shares Y/N's interest in martial arts so he knows how to defend himself. I mean I don't want anything to happen to Ellie either but I think she needs to make her own mistakes to learn from them and besides Ellie also knows how to defend herself as Y/N had all of our kids go to several safety trainings and they all have security following them so there is no way that boy could harm Ellie. Ryan would rather shoot the kid than let anything happen to Ellie or our other kids Kylie, Grace and Matthew.

I'm interrupted from my thoughts when Ellie appears in the family room wearing a lovely light pink dress with the pumps I borrowed her. Her blond curls are tied back in a high ponytail and she looks so pretty.

"Do I look ok??" she asks a little shy and Y/N steps forward. "You can't go out like that. No way no dress or skirt go change into pants" he says and I get up too. "You look lovely sweetie. I really like the dress, don't listen to your Dada he is just worried."

"Fuck liz she can't wear a dress it's to easy to grab feel of her."

"Daddy!" Ellie pipes deathly embarrassed. "Damien would never do that. He is a nice boy. Please, please don't embarrass me I really like him" she begs wringing her hands and Y/N sighs. "Fine where is the fu- umm guy" he corrects himself and just than Taylor announces Master Damien Hamilton- Ellie's date.

We all look expectantly to the hallway and I have to stiffle a giggle when a boy who is at least 3 or 4 inch smaller than Ellie comes in and nearly falls over his own feet Oh dear, the poor boy is shaking. He has floppy black hair, his shirt is a little wrinkled and he looks deathly pale and stares wide eyed at us.

"Mom, Dad this is Damien." Ellie says and I swear Y/N is biting the insides of his cheeks when Ellie pushes the poor boy further into the room.

"Mr L/N, Mrs L/N it's a- a ple- pleasure to meet you" he stutters and holds his hand out to shake. Poor boy has sweaty palms and now Y/N is smirking, " Well Damien it is nice to meet you too, I do hope you will treat my daughter with respect" Y/N says and the boy nods wide eyed when we all sit down though he stands frozen to the spot in the room. "Sit" Ellie snaps and obediently he sits. Wow she really is her father's daughter so dominant.

"So Damien tell me in what activities are you involved in school." Y/N asks and the boy takes a deep breath. "I'm in the debatting and chess club and also part of the math athletes I'm not that good in sports, Sir." he says and actually he looks a little bit like a nerd but in a cute kind of way.

"I see and what do your parents do for a living?" I ask hoping this will be enough information for Y/N. "My father is working as software developer and my mom is a lab assistant Ma'am"

"We need to go now. Come" Ellie says suddenly and he follows her like a puppy out of the room, while we walk out behind them and watch as they get into his car and drive of with Ryan following them in one of the SUV's.

I close the front door and look at Y/N expectantly. "I like the boy, yes Ellie can date him." he smirks then stalks over to me, picks me up so I'm hanging over his shoulder and gives me a firm slap on my ass making me yelp.

"Now that we are alone Mrs. L/N I think you have to keep me occupied until Ellie is back home." he says in a seductive voice and I grin. "Why Mister L/N I'd like that very much." and with that he carries me into our bedroom where I keep him occupied in our very special way.

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