Useless, Gay, and Willing to Die For Julie Andrews

“What do you think about switching Colin to a toddler bed?” Ellie asked, her hand rubbing at her lower back as she walked into her and Violet’s bedroom where her wife was lounging in bed, a book in hand, glasses on, much to Ellie’s enjoyment. She sat down on the bed by Violet’s legs, her hand squeezing one just below the knee while her other rested below her belly that still mostly just made her look like she’d had three too many dinners, but that seemed like it was growing every day. “It’s getting harder to bend over the side of the crib, and I’m not sure I should be hefting him over it, anyway.” She had been told at her last appointment that now that the baby was getting bigger, she would need to start being more careful, even with the added precaution of her cervix being closed. She was still at risk, and it would only continue to increase the further along she got in her pregnancy.

Violet put her book down and nodded her head, but clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth, another thought coming to mind. “That’s a good idea, but I’ve also been thinking about the space here,” Violet said. “I mean, in a few months we’re going to have four kids and no extra rooms. With all of their stuff, it’s getting a little cramped and…and if we decide to have more, I think we’re going to outgrow this place very quickly.” She put her book aside and stretched her arms out along her lap. “Ellie, I think we might have to move.”

Ellie shrugged, not so quick to jump on the idea. “I mean, we do have an extra room, it’s just downstairs. It’s not ideal, but we could move us into the guest room and put all three boys in here. Then the other two bedrooms would open up.” She wasn’t under the delusion that they could comfortably fit ten people in their house, but people for generations had fit more people into less room, and truth be told, she wasn’t ready to move. She loved their house and all the memories it held.

Violet pursed her lips, “I’m not too sure I like the idea of having the kids up here with us downstairs,” she admitted. “Maybe if they were older, but they’re all under ten. It feels a little young to me.” She ran a hand through her messy waves and adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose. “I mean we could take one of the smaller rooms and put the boys here so we have a free room upstairs, but also not ideal.” She tapped her fingers against her thighs, mulling over the possibilities they had. 

“Yeah, that’s also not ideal for the older two when their sleep schedules are so different from Colin’s.” Ellie sighed, crossing her legs and propping her chin on her hand, elbow resting on her knee. “What if, for now, we put the baby in here with us, then we can figure out a plan for everyone else later or…talk about moving?” There was a note of melancholy threading into her voice at the idea.

Violet frowned, Ellie’s tone not going unnoticed by her. “El, is something going on?” she asked, reaching out and taking her wife’s hand in her own, brushing her thumb across her knuckles. “You seem a little down about this. Talk to me, my love.”

Ellie looked down at their hands as she worked her way through her thoughts well enough to answer. After a minute, she looked up at her wife with her lips pulled to one side as her chin tucked down against her shoulder. “Since we decided we wanted eight kids, I’ve known somewhere in the back of my mind that we would need to move. But it always seemed so far down the line.” Her gaze fell away and her voice grew quiet. “I’m not ready to leave the place that holds all of our memories and our history. Even if I know we need to.” The tears that sprang to her eyes were unexpected and unbidden. She tried to blink them away, but they were stubborn and instead trickled down her cheeks. Damn hormones, she thought, though she wasn’t convinced they were truly to blame. 

Violet felt her gaze soften as she moved towards her wife, coming to sit next to her and pulling her into a firm hug. She was trying to rummage through her mind for ideas, literally anything that could allow Ellie to have what she wanted, for them to stay here, or to keep the house. “I’m sorry, Linah. I-I’m trying to think, m-maybe we can build an addition onto the house. Or we don’t sell it and rent it out instead, and we move into it when we retire, I-I don’t know,” she sighed. “I wish I could magically make this house bigger for you,” she whispered into her hair. 

Ellie gave a little wet laugh, her appreciation for her wife palpable. She rested her head on Violet’s shoulder for a moment before lifting it to look up at her, her arms encircling her waist. “It’s okay. Like I said, I’ve known, even if I haven’t let myself think about it. But I think trying to put an addition on the house is going to be even harder than trying to move a bunch of kids. I don’t want construction going on while we’ve got a new baby.” She searched Violet’s blue eyes that she adored so very much before pressing a kiss to her lips. “But maybe we should wait until after the baby is born? We can work on decluttering and downsizing some now, and then start looking for houses after she’s here.”

“Okay,” Violet agreed. “And we don’t have to move the boys around. Daphne can just stay with us. I think that might be nice.” She smoothed her hand down Ellie’s back, pressing a kiss to her hairline. “We’ll do it slowly and carefully. Can’t risk hurting your heart,” she put her hand over her heart, but missed it and cupped her breast instead. “Or your tit, I suppose,” she teased, hoping it would lighten the mood with a little nudge. She let out a sigh and looked over at Ellie, biting her bottom lip. “But…does this mean maybe we’re thinking we do really want all eight kids?”

Ellie laughed and wiggled her eyebrows, appreciating the way Violet’s cheeks turned a very pretty shade of pink. But her face sobered a bit at her question, taking an opportunity to think about it as she took Violet’s hand from her chest and laced their fingers together. “As long as it’s what you still want, I think we should go for it. We can always change our minds down the road, if we decide it’s not what we want anymore.” She brought their hands up to her lips and brushed a kiss along their fingers. 

“I do. I love our family, and I love that it keeps growing. That’s part of what makes it so special.” Violet leaned into Ellie’s side and rocked back and forth with her for a moment before placing her hand on her growing stomach, rubbing small circles there, letting their baby know that both of her mums were there. “But…if that is what we want, I think that means we have to talk about what Dr. Klein told us,” she said quietly. She had been putting off this conversation because she didn’t want to think of all the ways that everything could go wrong, but she knew how important it was to make sure she, Ellie, and their future babies would be as healthy as they could be.

Ellie snorted, rolling her eyes. “Oh, you mean about how by the time it’s my turn to be pregnant again, I’m going to be ancient and my eggs will be old and decrepit?” She was mostly unbothered by it, though it had been quite the reality check at the time. It seemed impossible that having a baby over thirty-five was considered risky when many women were capable of conceiving into their fifties, and women used to have babies well past thirty-five all the time without any medical assistance or real monitoring. But, she supposed there was a reason for the categorizing and the caution, and if they wanted to have four more children after this, they were going to need to make some concessions. “What do you think about the option of IVF and trying for multiples? We already have a higher chance just from doing insemination, but do we want to actually try for them?”

“I mean we could but there’s no real guarantee there either, is there?” she asked. “That’s the thing about having children, there’s nothing you can plan for. You think things will go one way and then they are the complete opposite. You have a terrible pregnancy, then you have a great one.” Violet shrugged her shoulders. “Also your eggs will never be old and decrepit to me, they’re always going to be perfect,” she chuckled and pinched Ellie’s cheek. “One thing we could do, though, is push our timeline,” Violet said. “The kids don’t have to be two years apart, and there are two of us. We could start trying again right after Daphne is born if this is really what we want.”

“Of course you never know, it would just up our chances.” Ellie shrugged, then chuckled, patting Violet’s hip in appreciation as she grinned at her. “Risk Irish twins on purpose? I suppose that’s an option. It would certainly help shrink our timeline a bit.” In her mind, she tried to imagine having a barely one-year-old and a baby, then a two-year-old, one-year-old, and a newborn. It was honestly a bit overwhelming, and she had to remind herself that trying was not a guarantee in conceiving, and they could still end up with any number of years between if things didn’t go smoothly each time. “If we do it four times, does that make them Irish quintuplets? Da will have a field day with that.”

Violet laughed with a snort, making her laugh harder and fall back onto the bed, her glasses becoming askew on her face. She put her hands onto her stomach and sighed, opening her eyes and looking over at Ellie, her lips pulling into a smile. “A lot of things are going to change around here,” she said reflectively. “But I think it’s going to be great because every second with you beats the last.”

Ellie shifted to look at Violet, one leg coming up to rest on the mattress. Violet’s hair splayed out from her head in short brown tendrils, and her bright blue eyes shimmered in the light from overhead. Her dark freckles stood out against her skin that had paled for the winter, crowding beneath her eyes around the bridge of her nose and along her forehead by her hairline. God, Ellie loved her freckles so much. Turning further, she reached out and took her crooked glasses, gently sliding them off of her face, setting them on the bedside table. “There,” she said when she looked back at her perfect wife. “Now I can see all of them.” She ran her finger down the length of Violet’s nose, then beneath her eye and down over the highest point of her cheekbone. She could have happily spent all night sitting there counting every single freckle on Violet’s face

“Oh! Stay right there! Don’t move!” she said, then got up and ran into the loo, rummaging through her makeup bag and rushing back with a brown eyeliner pencil in her hand. She sat on the bed with her back resting on the pillows, her legs crossed in front of her. “C’mere,” she said, patting her lap. “Put your head here. Let me draw your constellations.” They hadn’t done this in forever. Before they had kids, as far back as when they were teens before they were together, Ellie used to just sit and turn Violet’s freckles into stars and connect them like constellations. She usually did it with a pen on her arms like tiny tattoos, but she wanted to see all the stars she could find in the freckles that so beautifully blanketed her face. 

Violet pushed herself up and shimmied towards where she could put her head on Ellie’s lap. She kissed her stomach first, before getting fully settled, closing her eyes while Ellie leaned over top of her, gently holding her cheek and creating small stars along her face, tracing them together with lines to make constellations that would tell the story of her life, simply from the imprint the sun had left when it came down to earth and kissed her. It had been so long since they had done this, the memory that first came to mind for Violet was the first time Ellie had asked if she could trace and connect her freckles. They were in her room, laying down on her bed together in silence, staring at the posters and decorations that littered her walls. Ellie had gingerly taken Violet’s hand and lifted her arm up, connecting her freckles with only her fingers at first before Violet heard her ask, quietly under her breath, if she could do it in pen. Violet didn’t hesitate to agree, and a pastime was quickly born. She would be a tapestry of them after student council meetings in particular, but Violet never minded, because it meant she could go home and into her room where she was alone, take off her jumper and lay in bed, tracing over all the lines Ellie had drawn, remembering what it felt like to have her hands hold her. 

Looking back on those moments, Violet thought it was a wonder she didn’t realize she was in love with Ellie earlier. All of those little things she would do so that they could be closer, wanting to be held by her, to be touched by her, even if it was only the graze of a hand. When Ellie looked at her, she felt as though the rest of the universe had melted away, that it was just the two of them, and just like everything Violet had had in her life up until that point, she was terrified that it would have an expiration date. A part of her still couldn’t believe that they had made it this far. They had been together for over a decade, and obviously not without its tests and trials, but Ellie had made her believe in forever again. She didn’t fear a life without her because it seemed almost impossible that two things so fundamentally intertwined could be separated. The matter that made her was one and the same with the matter that made Ellie. Their love was not only one that came naturally to them, it was something they chose. They chose to love each other every day, and Violet knew she would continue to choose to love her wife long past her dying breath. 

Ellie nearly fell into a trance as she moved around Violet’s face, her left hand cradling her cheek or the side of her head, her fingertips delicately pressing against her skin to hold it in place while she dragged the tip of the pencil just hard enough to leave little dots and lines all around the contours of her face. The space between their faces as Ellie leaned over her was somehow both charged with energy and serene, a familiar bubble of intimacy enclosing around them, just as it had when they were kids. At the time, this had been the easiest, most innocent way that Ellie had been able to touch Violet intimately without risking letting her love for her slip out. She had relished every second that she could feel her skin beneath her fingertips, sometimes getting to lie next to her, sometimes leaning over her much like she was now. Once, Ellie had thought she would burn up from the inside out as Violet had laid face down on the bed in only her bra and skirt while Ellie straddled her hips and drew stars across the freckles on her back. It had been nearly impossible not to lean down and dust them with kisses, and she could still remember the way her heart had pounded in her throat, making it impossible to speak the entire time. 

As if to make up for it now, Ellie leaned down and kissed Violet’s nose, her cheek, her chin, and finally her lips. She then pulled back, looking down into the face of the only woman she had ever loved, who had walked quietly into her life and made a home in her heart without even trying. Nothing felt inevitable to her the way Violet did. She was certain that they could have met at any point in time, in any way, in any place, and they would have ended up spending their lives together. Their souls had been made for one another, and she believed as surely as she believed in the blue sky and the English rain and in God himself, that they would have found their way to one another no matter what. 

“You are so beautiful, Violet,” she breathed as she pulled back to look down at her face that was now decorated in a sea of delicate stars. “I swear you get more beautiful every single day.” She traced her finger over the dots and lines, her lip between her teeth, noticing the very beginnings of laugh lines at the corners of her eyes and feeling so grateful that evidence of their life together, of the joy they shared, was permanently visible on Violet’s face. 

Violet’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of Ellie’s voice. She looked up at her wife, somewhat dazed from how relaxed she had felt under her touch. She reached above her and threaded her fingers in Ellie’s curls before gently pulling her down and rubbing their noses together before pressing a long drawn out kiss to her lips. “You are the air that I breathe, Elinah Bridgerton. I was made to be yours, there is no doubt about it.” The moment was serene and perfect. Violet couldn’t have hoped for a better way to show her appreciation for her wife and everything that she did for her. Her heart, her body, and her soul all belonged to Ellie. She owed her everything.

Ellie felt a gentle stirring low in her belly as their kiss lingered, deepening just a little as their tongues met, lightly brushing together. What should have been a familiar, languid kiss felt new and different because of the way they were positioned and the change had heat rising to Ellie’s cheeks. Her nose brushed against Violet’s chin while her hand reached down to her hip, brushing against the waistband of her pajama pants before slowly dragging up the length of her, catching on fabric and tripping over the curves of her body. When she got to her chest, she let her fingernails drag over her freckled skin until she reached her neck, tracing a fingertip from the tip of her chin, down the length of her jawline, hoping to slowly wake her nerves and coax her into a serene sort of desire.

Violet used her other hand that wasn’t tangled in Ellie’s hair to push herself up slightly, deepening their kiss until she was fully seated again. She detached her lips from her wife’s only to begin pressing the softest, most tender kisses to the spot under her jaw which rested below her ear. She let her tongue drag and tease along the skin there, tracing over lines and marks as she went, making her way down to her pulse point where she paused for a moment, feeling her living, breathing heartbeat against her lips. “Lay down, Ellie,” she said in a whisper, her fingers now toying with the fabric that rested against her hip. 

Ellie’s eyes were closed, her head tipped back to allow Violet better access to the length of her neck. Every kiss or sweep of tongue was like a little shot of electricity to her skin, and she hadn’t even realized the way her mouth had pooled until Violet’s whisper ghosted over her throat, and she suddenly needed to swallow. She did as she was told, lying back against the pillows, one hand coming to her stomach that no longer fell flat but instead still held a small curve out from her body, her other hand resting on Violet’s knee. She looked up at her expectantly, her desire and curiosity unmasked in her dark brown eyes. 

Violet carefully let her hands graze against the skin at Ellie’s hip, sliding her fingers underneath the hem of her shirt. Carefully, she pulled the fabric up, uncovering more of her perfect brown skin. She kissed every mole and freckle as she went before pulling the shirt over Ellie’s head and placing it next to them on the bed. Her beautiful wife so often spent her time focused on others; whether it was at work or in their home, she was always taking care of things, rarely taking a moment to rest. Ellie had done Violet the favour of allowing her to relax more times than she could count. She wanted now to be one of the times she could repay that favour. 

She then let her fingers curl under the waistband of her pants, kissing the small bulge of her belly as she lifted her hips off of the mattress, letting her pull both her pants and knickers down with much more ease. On her way back up, in her continued reverent study of her wife’s body, she pressed kisses along her legs, tiny pricks of hair tickling her as she reached her thighs, so soft and full she would never get tired of learning the way they grew and changed along with each pregnancy. She wasted no time, her kisses growing more hot and open mouthed as she neared where she knew Ellie desired her most. 

Ellie watched as Violet lavished attention over her body, the rise and fall of her chest and belly slowly growing more rapid the longer it went on. It was a tortuously slow, yet delightful experience that she savored; it was so rare these days that they had an opportunity for something so tender and reverent. Every kiss, every touch was brimming with love, her devotion washing over Ellie until her heart was so full it felt as if it might break open at any second. 

She placed her feet flat on the mattress as Violet’s lips gently devoured her thighs. The build up was slow but no less effective; the pulse between her thighs was constant and aching. Her eyes stayed on Violet. There was something deeply erotic about watching her own body be so thoroughly enjoyed. As her wife inched closer and closer to her wet curls, her legs began to tremble in anticipation and little whimpers escaped her parted lips. Her hands slid down her own body, slowly, pausing for a moment at her breasts where she brushed her thumbs over her nipples, their sensitivity making the light touch scorch through her body, before continuing down to press her palms against her thighs while she waited, growing desperate for more. 

Violet smiled against Ellie, pressing a kiss right to her folds before beginning to work her tongue against her in that way she knew would help her slowly and steadily climb to a teetering edge before she fell down into a sea of pleasure. As she continued her ministrations, Violet reached up a hand, brushing her fingers against the skin of Ellie’s stomach before palming around, reaching for her hand, which she grasped tightly as soon as she found it. She loved Ellie so much, and she knew she deserved the world ten times over, and if she could have, Violet would have given it to her. All the times she had been her constant, the lodestone her heart was drawn to in times of hardship. The kindness she had shown her during some of the most difficult times of her life; when she had lost her father, when her mother had kicked her out, when she was struggling after Anthony’s birth, after Callahan’s passing. It all amounted to a debt Violet would continue to repay for the rest of her life without an ounce of complaint because Ellie had saved her life. She had saved her life over and over again when she thought there was no more reason to live, because Ellie was her reason to live, her reason to survive. Everything about her belonged to Ellie, and she did not know any other way, nor would she have it any other way.

Ellie focused on breathing, on staying in the moment as long as she could, letting the pleasure Violet gave her wash over her without pushing her to that edge just yet. Quiet, praising moans spilled out of her, hopefully telling Violet just how good she was making her feel and how she wished she could stay just like that, so close and connected, so completely overwhelmed with the love and lust for her wife that lived so intertwined inside of her that they were impossible to separate, entirely dependent on each other. Her hand gripped Violet’s tighter, her other hand sliding down from the top of her thigh to the soft inner flesh, fingernails digging in as she refused to let herself fall. 

Violet could sense Ellie trying to hold on to the moment so she slowed down just enough to allow her some more time while still sending pleasure coursing through her veins. She let her moans guide her along a journey, a quiet symphony of gratitude and love that was never lacking between the two. However, Violet knew the moment was coming soon when Ellie would have to let herself fall, but they both knew that Violet would always be there to catch her. She added just a little more pressure, and it wasn’t long before Ellie was trembling all around her, heightening her own senses, feeling satisfied simply from the ability to make her wife feel good in that way. 

Ellie’s orgasm crashed through her, her body tensing, her legs closing around Violet’s head as her back arched, adding pressure that only heightened the waves of pleasure washing over her as Violet’s name floated from her lips in a thick, desperate sigh. As it began to subside, she melted back into the mattress, her hand limply clasped around her wife’s while her chest heaved with each slightly ragged breath. Though her body was boneless, she tried to use her hand to pull Violet up, muttering, “C’mere.” Her voice was deep, almost pouty, and her eyes were barely open while her body still hummed. 

Violet obliged, her own body pressed against her wife’s as she made her way up until they were face to face. She let herself gently rest on top of Ellie, careful not to put too much weight down, letting her tell her what was okay. She kissed Ellie, a smirk coming across her mouth, knowing that she could taste the lingering bit of her desire on her lips as they continued to embrace. “I love you, Ellie,” Violet murmured, tracing her jaw with her fingers. Maybe more than I love myself.

Ellie felt Violet everywhere—her gentle weight pressing her into the bed, the smell of her perfume that lingered from the morning, her fingers gliding along her jaw, her lips, sweet and musky. Finding enough muscle tension to move her arm, she wrapped it around her wife’s waist, pulling her in closer as she hummed against her lips. “I love you, too, Vi.” She let their noses brush together, reveling in the way their closeness continued to thrive, driving them through everything.  Her fingers gripped Violet’s ribs, and she brought their lips back together, delicately teasing with featherlight kisses as her own body began to come back to life. 

Violet allowed the kisses to continue for a while before she nuzzled her face in the crook of Ellie’s neck, a quiet sigh escaping past her lips with a hum before she settled herself there. It wasn’t often Violet wasn’t particularly in the mood for sex herself, but today, what she was able to give Ellie was more than enough to fill her cup, and yet, her heart still felt heavy for a reason she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

When Violet pulled back, nestling into her neck, Ellie’s brow furrowed. It was very unlike her wife to not want sex, but there was no doubt in her mind that this was a refusal, gentle as it was. Lightly stroking her back, Ellie let her simply rest in her arms, not yet asking for any explanation. She pressed kisses to her temple and her hair, letting her relax down into her, both her arms now fully encircling her. When she felt it had been long enough, she asked quietly, “Everything alright, love?”

Violet hummed, not really giving Ellie an answer either way. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was feeling or why she was feeling it, making it hard for her to speak about, so she stayed silent, pressing small kisses to the crook of Ellie’s neck, hoping the feeling might just go away.

Ellie grew more concerned, and her hand stopped its motion over Violet’s back. She pulled her head back to look down at her, but she was buried so far in her neck that she couldn’t see any of her face. 

“Vi?” she said gently, her hand coming in between Violet’s chin and her own chest to tilt up her face. “What’s going on, my love?” she asked, still very gently but with a bit more concern threaded into her voice.

“Nothing,” Violet lied. “I’m just…I’m fine for tonight.” She shrugged her shoulders, letting her fingers trace lines along Ellie’s hips. How her wife had come into her life was beyond her understanding. She had always felt this odd push and pull telling her that they were made for each other while silently whispering in her ear that she would never be enough. She would never be able to amount to anything that would allow her to repay Ellie for everything she had done for her. The only possible thing that could remedy this for her was the fact that she knew she would spend her entire life devoted to her; it was all she could do. She was made for Ellie, that was her purpose, she was sure of it.

Ellie couldn’t decide if she should push or not. It was not so much that she had turned down Ellie’s reciprocation. Although that was very out of character, it was not like it never happened. What concerned her was the shift in mood. There was a heaviness about her wife that felt unsure and unexplained. A distance between them that was not usually there, despite how firmly pressed against her Violet currently was. It was not a distance caused by anger or disagreement where Violet was pulling away to close herself off. It was almost as if her wife was trying to get to her, to climb right inside of her, because she couldn’t actually get close enough. 

Ellie’s lips pressed into a tight frown as she pulled Violet’s head down onto her shoulder again, deciding not to push right now, hoping whatever was going on, she would choose to come to her when she was ready. “Okay, my love,” she whispered, pressing kisses to the crown of her head while her fingers played with her hair. “I love you,” she said again, some instinct telling her she couldn’t possibly say it too many times that night. 

“I love you, too,” Violet whispered, unable to hide the brokenness from her voice. She took a deep breath, lifting her hands slightly, tracing along Ellie’s sides, the curve of her breasts, the length of her arms. Ellie was her angel on earth, and she knew she couldn’t let her slip through her fingers. She moved her head and kissed her wife’s collarbone, lifting her hand to trace its shape mindlessly, maybe hoping to put herself in a trance, at this point she wasn’t sure. 

Ellie sighed, trying to let the delicate touches soothe her worried nerves but it didn’t help. In fact, they only served to increase her anxiety, acting as proof that something was wrong and, as was her nature, she wanted to fix it, right away. But if Violet wasn’t able to be forthcoming about what was actually wrong, there wasn’t a whole lot she could do. After another minute, she took her wife’s hand from her collarbone and kissed her palm. “Sit up,” she said gently, and when she did, Ellie sat up, too, taking her face in her hands, searching her eyes and finding them so full of heartache that her brows furrowed together, wishing she could somehow just read her mind. Sweeping her thumb over her cheek, she pressed an aching kiss to her lips, lingering in it for as long as Violet allowed, then let their foreheads rest together. Ellie didn't say anything until she pulled away and told Violet to lay down, then laid herself over top of her, resting her forehead against her temple, drawing Violet’s arms around her back and letting her own push beneath her wife’s neck as her weight settled down on top of her slowly, allowing Violet’s body to adjust to it, hoping it would help ground her, as they had done many times for each other over the years. 

As soon as Violet felt the pressure of Ellie’s body on top of her, she felt all of the weight begin to release from her heart in thick, shaky sobs. She gripped onto her wife, letting her pull out every ounce of unworthiness and sadness from her bones, hoping it would stay away, but knowing, in reality, it would always be the cement wall that covered her heart. She wanted to make it stop, to pull herself together, but with Ellie on top of her she couldn’t stop crying. Her breathing soon became ragged and split with hiccups, and it almost felt like too much. Like her body and soul were somehow being ripped from each other. She felt weak and pathetic, unworthy.