#and being with brittany/another woman

[queers-gambit]

What Goes Around, Comes Around

prompt: ( requested ) Billy's known for his temper and being obsessed with his pretty little girlfriend - which gets her severely injured by his past transgressions.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!cheerleader!reader reader and Billy are both 18+, seniors in high school

word count: 6.7k+

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

note: you're a liar if you didn't immediately start singing Justin Timberlake's "What Goes Around... Comes Around".

warnings: remember there are different responses to trauma! some people shut down, stop talking; others jabber and chatter nervously. reader is the latter. we got angst, we got literal hurt and comfort, established relationship. term "going postal" is used, cursing, technically underage drinking, not edited, author mildly gave up at the end. triggering content: depictions of physical violence, depictions of injury and blood, depiction of abuse, violent plots, Billy's girl gets physically assaulted (but it's minimally detailed).

DO NOT read if this content can potentially trigger you. you are NOT missing anything, you will miss NOTHING by skipping this, but i do try to keep the details as neutral as possible. again, prioritize yourself, mental health, and emotional state - this ain't worth the read if it's gonna upset you, i promise. author loves you all

"That's fucking her, I swear to God."

"You sure?"

"100%. That's Billy's little bitch he's obsessed with."

The three guys smirked at one another, eyeing you across the living room as you giggled and drank with a few friends in adorable, fashion forward outfits. Someone started a game of beer pong, you on the sidelines to cheer, giving them a full-show of your form.

"She's hot," Jake mused. "I can see why he keeps her so close."

"Nah, not tonight," Lawrence frowned, "heard they got in some huge fight at school. Like, she walked home and he sped off in his car."

"Hm, heard he's ridiculously protective of her... She must've really pissed him off," the third boy, Steven, nodded. "So, he's not here tonight?"

"Doubt it," Jake nodded.

"Go find out," Steven advised. "There, the basketball bros - one of them would know. Or a cheerleader," he eyed the crowd. "Chrissy's over there, Brittany's beside her - they'd be the best bet in my mind."

"We seriously considering this?" Lawrence asked with a small, nervous chuckle. "I mean, it's kinda crazy, isn't it? We're gonna send Billy Hargrove a message by roughing up his girl? There's not some better way?"

"I'd love to hear it," Steven scoffed. "Billy's too comfortable at the top of the school, broke my fucking nose and deviated Jake's septum. Didn't he fuck your sister the first week he was here, Lawrence?"

"I mean - "

"Broke her fucking heart, didn't he?" Jake tacked on.

"Well, yeah," Lawrence sighed, shrugging.

"You tell me, dude, was that shit fair?"

"No," Lawrence looked down.

"So, yeah, I know, it's bad to hit a lady - but what about my boot? Huh?" Steven smirked, nodding. "Go find out what you can. Last thing we need is Billy walkin' in the party, right?"

Jake nodded with enthusiasm, leaving Lawrence behind. He hesistated but then did as Steven asked; asking the present basketball team members if Billy gave indication he was coming. The cheerleaders assured he wouldn't dare show up when you were there after a very public fight, and if he did, it would be to cause another scene.

So, after reporting back to Steven, a plan was formed. Lawrence didn't seem fully on board, but in an effort to save his own skin, he went along with what Jake and Steven were plotting - even if that meant roughing up a woman. Something his mama and grandmama vehemently taught him not to do...

Something churned in his stomach when he heard how the two lads were nearly foaming at the mouth to get their revenge. So, he casually went to grab another drink - pausing where a few of your friends were. "Oi," he whispered, earning their attention.

"Hey, Law," Chrissy smiled.

"Hey, Chris," he sniffled, glancing around. "Listen, uh, you seen Billy 'round?"

"No? Why?"

"Hmm, just, uh... Heard his girl was all upset, thought maybe her drinking all that much was a bad idea without him around."

"Oh," Chrissy blinked, looking up at her boyfriend, Jason, as he approached the group with two drinks in hand. "I didn't think about it like that, Law."

"What's wrong?" Jason asked.

"No, nothing, Lawrence just pointed out how shitty it is to drink without someone watching your back," she pouted.

He nodded, "You lose your friends, man?"

"No, just tryna look out," Lawrence shrugged. "Few girls here drinking a lot, not a lot of defenses 'round them."

Jason frowned, "That's kinda their man's job, isn't it?"

"What if their man isn't here?"

"I'm gonna be right back," Chrissy smiled, parting ways with her girlfriend in tow - and when Law looked, they were using the kitchen telephone. He prayed they were phoning the Hargrove residence.

Lawrence sighed in slight relief and nodded to Jason; the white boy just nodding back silently and letting the other athlete pass him by to head back for Jake and Steven. He grabbed an unopened beer on his way to maintain appearances.

"Hey, we got it," Jake smirked at the third boy, "she just went outside, we should move now."

"Huh?" Law mumbled.

"C'mon," Steven growled, pushing off the mantle and stalking for the backdoors to follow your retreating form.

"Wait, what're we doing?" Law asked, trying to keep up with the drunken, elongated strides of the two dickheads he called 'friends'. "Hey! Guys, c'mon - what's going on?"

"Just - shut up, pussy boy, let's go, fuckin' keep up," Steven sneered, shoving the glass door out of his way and nearly cracking it.

Outside, the in-ground pool was alight with multicolored lights. There were teenagers littered all around the pool deck; some lounging and some standing, all drinking. There was a kegstand in play, ping pong table hosting another game of Beer Pong, and the thick stench of cigarette smoke in the air.

"She's over there," Jake pointed, their sights turning to see you leaning over to huff on your cigarette while Tammy May Flipsen lit the end of it. Your smile was genuine as you thanked her, just stepping two feet away to gaze up at the stars - a perfect time to strike.

The alcohol in everyone's system made them slow, vulnerable, and downright stupid; leaving Steven and Jake the opportunity to seize either of your arms and literally rush you around the corner of the house without anyone intervening.

Once in the remote side yard, the sickening plan commenced.

Lawrence could barely approach, managing to watch with tears in his eyes as the noises of the party masked the noises of pain you emitted; two nearly full-grown men took out their anger towards your boyfriend on you. You cried, begged for reprieve, sounded so confused and broken that it shattered Lawrence's heart - briefly thinking what if someone did this to his sister...

That made him spring into action. "Hey! No! No, this ain't right! Get off her!" Lawrence barked, shoving the two away from your body on the ground. "That's enough - back off - fuck is wrong with you!?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Steven demanded.

"Bitch has it coming!"

"What? You fuckin' her, too? Got you pussy whipped like Billy Boy?"

"Just fuck off, beating on a girl!" Lawrence snapped, but it was a huge mistake. Jake and Steven shared a single look before launching at the third boy, beating him as they had you - but much harder. He swore he earned a concussion, their heels stomping his neck, collarbones, wrists, ribs, ankles; exactly the same as they did to you.

"Tryna defend her now!?" Jake heaved, giving a swift kick to Lawrence's kidney. "Huh? You're so scared of Billy but you're gonna mess with his girl?" He laughed. "She must have a magic cunt or something!"

"You're so fucking pathetic, you have to beat up a girl!?" Law shot right back, earning a swift kick to the jaw from the lad that used to play soccer (or American fútbol). "Huh? Two on one? Such big men, aren't yah?" He sneered again, spitting blood to the side.

"Leave it," Steven halted Jake when he charged again, "they're both pretty fucked."

"Well, that dumbass should learn a lesson 'bout interfering!"

"Law's learned - he has, bro, and if he wants, he can learn again," Steven spat on Lawrence's form, Jake doing the same to you - both eventually stalking away like bored toddlers walking away from broken toys.

Slowly, Lawrence grunted as he pulled himself up to sit against the side of the house. "Fuck's sake," he whispered, wiping his eyes and wincing when he felt the sore skin - trailing a finger up, wincing again when he discovered split skin above his eyebrow. "Ohhhh, fuuuuck," Law drawled when you slowly peaked up from your fetal position on the ground. "Hey, hey, you all right? Stupid question," he hissed in pain when he moved to try and assist you.

You cried out when his grip laid on you, but powered through to let him help you sit against the house, too. "Holy shit," you whispered, blood dribbling from your mouth; teeth feeling loose, a headache already assaulting you, and cuts stinging in the bitter night.

"I'm so sorry."

"N-No, you - it would've been so much worse if you hadn't..." You trailed off, sniffling, "You didn't have t'jump in, you got hurt 'cause of me."

"You got hurt 'cause of Billy," Lawrence frowned.

"Huh?"

"That's why they're so pissed off," Lawrence explained, spitting more blood to the side; his jeans stained with mud, blood, and grass. "Billy got their asses few weeks ago, they're still pissed... I heard them," he deflected smoothly, "talkin' about teaching Billy a lesson through you. Didn't feel right, but I should've stopped them so much sooner. I-I'm sorry I didn't do more, Y/N."

"You did more than anyone else," you whimpered, drawing your knees into your chest to lock your arms around them. "I don't even know them, they go to our school?"

"We're all in AP History with Snyder."

You paused to nod absently, not even bothering to try and recall any interactions you might've had with Steven and Jake. Instead, you eyed your savior, mumbling, "You're Lawrence, right?"

"Yeah," he breathed.

"Your sister's... Cara? Sarah? No, no," you paused to think, his frown deepening as you seemed so nice and authentic. "Your sister's name is Natalie, right?"

"Yeah," he half-smiled. "You know her?"

"She's a sweetheart, has those cute glasses? Yeah, I like her; she just joined cheer, right?"

"Yeah, that's her."

You eyed him for a moment, ignoring the blood dripping off you both from the beat down; then whispered with a sniffle, "Is that why you helped? 'Cause your sister's on the cheer squad, too?"

"No," he replied instantly, sounding quiet (like you), "I'd like to believe if I saw something I know is wrong... I'd be the type of person to step in, try to stop it."

"You did tonight."

"I should've done more a lot sooner."

"You could've been really hurt, Law."

"Like you?"

"I'm just - look, two guys? Beatin' on me? Yeah," you scoffed, wiping blood from your split lip, "like I ever stood a chance. But you didn't have t'do all that, they wanted Billy, found me instead. You could've walked away, but instead, you jumped in, and you could've been really hurt. That wouldn't help anyone."

"I'm still sorry..."

You sniffled, but before you could respond, you heard footsteps thundering over the lawn; a voice shouting your name in frantic, panicked little outbursts. Looking up, you caught sight of a black leather jacket and unruly blonde curls, frowning deeper. "Oh, fuck," you whispered, withdrawing into yourself, "oh, no, no, not now. Not now, Goddamnit. Think I can make a run for it to the street before he sees me?" You asked Law quietly, nearly hissing your whisper.

"Ain't that Billy?" Law asked, finger pointed.

"He can't see me," you rushed in a panic, eyes wide and tears welling. "Lawrence, he can't!"

"Why?"

"He'll go on a fucking rampage, Lawrence! Ever heard going postal? Yeah, Bee gives that shit new meaning."

"They'd deserve whatever Billy wants t'do," Law frowned, tensing up when Billy had turned, caught sight of you two, and made an angry beeline for you in the grass. "U-Uh, Billy's approaching," he warned you as your boyfriend arrived, trying to pull back to give privacy, but wincing in pain that made him stop.

"The fuck is going - ? Oh, my fuckin' God," Billy trailed off, then whispered when he saw you huddled on the ground; your dress in tatters. Your head was bowed, knees drawn in, refusing to meet his eyes; making your leather-clad boyfriend lower himself to a knee. "Baby? Hey, look at me, sweet girl, lemme see... C'mon, baby, please, look at me."

You only sniffled.

"It was Jake and Steven," Lawrence told Billy, trying to find his feet; falling over and just giving up.

"Hell happened to you, man?"

Lawrence frowned, looking nervous, but your voice answered, "He saved me, Bee. Jumped in, took some of the beating."

Billy looked between you and Lawrence, but focused on you - seeing the injuries to your face and chest in full light. "Oh, my God," he breathed, looking you over in shock. Those pink, pillowy lips you adored licking and sucking on were parted in shock.

You half-smiled, "Think you pissed a few of the wrong guys off."

"Jesus Christ, sweet girl. What happened? Tell me, please, before I start making assumptions," he demanded, reaching for your cheek - making you recoil hard enough that your head banged on the house supporting your exhausted body. "Hey, hey," he whispered, looking physically wounded by your action, "'s just me, baby, it's just me, it's Bee, I'm not gonna hurt you. C'mon, sweetheart, lemme help you."

You sniffled, letting him reach for you again and caress your cheek so he could direct your head left and right; giving him a full view of your injuries that continued to weep. He stiffened as he took note of a new cut or bruise upon every new sweep of his eyes, his anger skyrocketing with every passing moment.

"It hurts," you whimpered. "Apparently, you beat the shit outta those guys weeks ago - guess they were waiting for an opening to strike back."

"You don't deserve this," he growled angrily. "Fuck - look at you! Goddamnit, I'm so sorry, princess, this is my fault. All my fucking fault, shit," he hissed, looking close to tears, "I put you here, I'm so sorry, baby."

"Got Lawrence his ass beat, too," you pouted.

"Sorry about this, man," Billy instantly offered the other boy, who was practically slumped over in the grass. He still managed to give a thumbs up. "But, uh, thank you for stepping in. You know, not a whole lotta people would."

"Nah, it was the right thing to do," Law frowned, waving him off.

"You said Jake and Steven did this?"

"Mhm," Law nodded. "Jake Chastain and Steven Barton."

"Yeah, I know 'em," Billy shook his head, "and I'll fuckin' kill 'em - "

"Can we get cleaned up first? Before we go murdering high school jocks?" You pouted in pain.

"Hey, man. You got a friend here or something? Someone to help us?" Billy asked Lawrence, still caressing your face with his thumb sweeping the apple of your cheek.

"My sister's 'round, yeah..."

"Want me to grab her?" Billy offered awkwardly.

"I'd actually appreciate it," Law whispered. "Gotta get home, yeah?"

"Yeah, man. Stay here, I'll grab her," Billy agreed. "What's her name?"

"Natalie, she's a cheerleader. Um... Y-You dated her beginning of the year?"

"I remember," he sighed, standing to his feet. He told you earnestly, almost sweetly, "I'll be fast."

But the thing is, you knew Billy all too well by now. "Wait, no," you gasped, trying to stand, "Bee, don't!" It was too late, he was already gone by the time you and Lawrence stumbled out from hiding; just in time to watch Billy point Natalie towards where you and her brother were. Then, he turned and surged up to an unsuspecting Jake and Steven; launching an all-out brawl against the two.

Neither of them stood a chance when Billy was THIS angry. Nobody did. In fact, if Jason, Tommy H., and two other guys hadn't pulled him back, surely, there'd be a lot more than a couple of broken bones. However, when Billy told the other basketball players in a spit-flying rage that these two cowards had attacked his girlfriend (a few turning back to get a look at you), it launched a new, mutual anger. Chrissy and a few other cheerleaders wanted to step in when the "fight" (more like attack) started again, but when they saw you, Lawrence, and Natalie, nobody said a single word. Nobody interfered. Nobody interrupted, and luckily, nobody else joined in...

Before Jake and Steven could lose their lives or sustain serious injury that would result in any arrests, Billy was pulled back by Lawrence - of all people. "Hey, hey," the beaten boy barked, "hey, man, chill - chill! These guys deserve it, yeah, I fucking know, but look, hey!" He grabbed Billy's shoulders to prevent him from turning back for the fray. "Hey! Your girl needs you, man. She needs you more than these bozos. C'mon, you can't go to jail over this shit, right? Right? How mad you gonna be if you get bagged 'cause of these jackasses?"

This seemed to force Billy back to reality and out of his homicidal rage. A few dudes who played football stepped in to hoist the unconscious jocks over their shoulders just to leave them on the curb a couple houses down the street.

Billy raced back to you.

Chrissy and Natalie were helping wipe blood from your skin and hair; clothes damaged, ripped, stained, beyond repair, and another cheerleader was holding a bag of frozen peas to your head as you leaned on her stomach. He slid his jacket from his shoulders, easing you off the girl's belly to leave it around your trembling form and then taking the girl's spot, supporting your body as you were tended to.

Eventually, Chrissy sighed, "I think that's the best we're gonna get you, honey. You want us to come over in the mornings? Help you get dressed and do your make-up?"

"No offense, but I don't think that's necessary... It's not like what happened is a secret," Natalie whispered, looking you over.

"Make-up might irritate the injuries," the other girl offered softly. "But it might cover some of those bruises, I just would avoid the cuts."

"I'm okay, girls, but thank you," you assured softly. "Bee's here t'help."

"Yeah, taking you straight to the hospital," he decided stiffly from behind you.

"What?"

"Think I'm not gonna get you checked out after this? Two men attacked you, I gotta make sure ain't shit's seriously wrong, baby. Don't fight me on this, please."

Billy's mind was warped with memories of sitting in ER's and other clinics with his mother nursing a broken wrist or damaged eye socket. His father's anger had always been a temperamental switch, something Billy felt he always had to outdo. Being in the hospital with you felt too similar, another bolt of rage zinging through his blood; hating the idea that you were the victim, and like his mother, he wasn't able to protect you.

Unlike his mother, this situation was directly his fault. He didn't even remember why he beat the shit outta Steven and Jake all those weeks ago, but whatever the reason, it cost him now. Cost you both.

The party continued inside the house, but Billy walked around the side yard, down to the front, then towards the street full of parked cars with you secure in his arms. After getting you settled safely in the passenger seat of his Camaro, Billy rightened and shut the door; seeing Lawrence and Natalie approaching their own car, the bag of peas now held to his jaw and cheek.

His sister was under his arm, helping him hobble. Billy gulped, realizing Lawrence was beat to hell, too, and if he hadn't jumped in, Lord only knew what state you'd be in now. When the two men caught one another's eye, Billy offered a nod of respect and thanks; the other lad returning it as if to say he was welcome. Billy raced for the driver's door, sliding in, and without turning any music on, drove off towards the hospital.

You were grumpy to be there, but one look at you had the medical staff moving at a quickened pace to help you; offering speedy aid. You were cleaned and cared for; questions regarding the level of assault making you nervous, but you answered honestly that two classmates had jumped you at a party. This meant the police were called; tears in your eyes and down your cheeks when you had to tell Chief Hopper (a close family friend) exactly what happened.

Billy provided their assailant’s full names and promised they wouldn't be in the best shape when (slash if) the two were found.

After hearing your story and writing the names down from Billy, Hopper sighed in empathy, "Kid... Don't admit t'anything."

"I'm not, I'm just making a casual note," Billy countered. "You know, people don't take too kindly to people hittin' a woman. Less so when she's drunk, alone, and they fuckin' stomp on her - "

"All right," Hopper tried to halt his built up anger. "Let's just take a breath here - "

"Uh, Chief?" His deputy interrupted. "Them boys? Uh, a... Jake Chastain and Steven Barton? They were just wheeled in from an ambulance."

"Interesting," Hopper noted, sparing Billy a small look. "From where?"

"A neighbor called them in, said there's a party few houses from her on Hawthorne."

Jim Hopper sighed and turned to you and Billy with his hands on his hips. His face was passively angry. "Sound familiar?" He asked, tongue sweeping over his teeth.

"Yes," you answered for you both, "that's where it happened, Chief."

His eyes softened when he looked back at you. "All right," he nodded, looking to his partner. "Go stand by their room, keep an eye - I'll be there in a second, but the victims made a positive ID. Doc's will treat 'em and we'll book 'em." When left alone, Hopper took a suspicious look around the hospital floor before sliding the curtains shut around your bed; moving to your other side, removing his hat, and kneeling. "Listen, kid," he whispered, taking your hand softly, "I got a daughter at home, too, and if anyone - and I mean, anyone - laid a hand on her the way you were tonight, I'd burn this town to the fucking ground."

Billy snorted in amusement, "Know the feeling."

Hopper nodded, "So believe me when I say, I need to know, off the record, what really happened tonight. Your father will need to know that I am doing everything to help - but I need to know the truth."

"I don't know what to tell you, Hopper," you frowned, matching his quiet tone, "I've told you what I know. I was a few drinks in, stepped outside t'smoke, and that's when they grabbed me, took me t'the side yard, and started wailing on me. I dropped, they kept goin', that's when this other boy stepped in. He got beat up pretty good, too, but he helped get them away. Billy showed up, we came here - "

"I hit them," Billy interrupted, making you squeak lightly. Hopper just laid his other hand over yours so he cocooned it; glancing around the under skirts of the curtains to make sure you remained alone.

Then he asked, "When?"

"After I made sure Y/N was okay," Billy explained, petting a hand over the back of your head; never looking away from Hopper. "I found her friend's sister, made sure someone knew where they were, and then I hit them... And I didn't stop hitting them."

"Kid - "

"Some teammates pulled me off, don't worry - it could've been so much worse. But when the others found out what they did to my girl?" He hissed quietly, "They took matters into their own hands by themselves, sir. My girl was attacked, I couldn't let that just slide, Chief, I hope you understand."

Hopper sighed, "Well, I can't condone the violence, but since it was a group effort, be a helluva lot more paperwork bringing you in versus those two who started it."

Billy nodded absently, your free hand laying over Hopper's to stack. "Did you call my dad?" You asked nervously.

"Not yet," he frowned. "I gotta check on the suspects, but I can after."

"Could you not? For me, please?" You sniffled. "He'll just worry and would get all pissy 'cause his trip has to be cut - "

"He's not home?" Hopper asked in earnest confusion with knitted brows.

Your head shook, "Chicago for the week."

"He left eight days ago," Billy snipped.

"Bee," you reprimanded sharply.

"Hey," Hopper squeezed your hand, "it's okay, you're over 18, I don't have to call him. But El and I are gonna drop by later with dinners and to check on you, her little friend, too, probably. You know, the, uh... The little red head?"

"Max?" You asked.

"Yeah, her. Nice girl."

"She's Billy's step-sister," you snickered, wincing when your broken ribs protested.

"You should rest," Hopper bid, "and thank you for being honest," he stood to his feet while nodding at Billy. "Tell you what, I won't report you starting the fight - technically... It'll be reported as a randomized group effort after they were caught assaulting Y/N."

Billy nodded, too shocked for words as Hopper patted your hand, placed his hat on, and exited the little curtained room. "Wow," your boyfriend breathed. "Since when are you friends with the Chief of Police?"

"He and my dad go way back," you eased.

"All cops like him?"

"Fuck no, you know that." After a beat, you reached for his hand to lace your fingers with him, "Hey," you bid, "I-I'm really sorry."

"Baby, just - don't even start - "

"No, for earlier, for our fight," you interrupted, "and for feeling petty enough to go to the party alone when I know you don't like that... For drinking, not being more aware like you taught me. I didn't use the buddy-system when I went t'smoke, it was a major fuck-up, I know, but I'm just sorry. I feel like I've disappointed you or something - "

"No, hey, sweet girl," he rushed, sitting on the edge of the gurney to stare at you directly, "don't you ever feel that way - you didn't do nothing wrong. Hear me? You didn't put yourself in this position, you didn't deserve what happened, you didn't - no, just," he sighed deeply, "you didn't do any of this, sweetheart. Okay? If anything... If anything, this is my fucking fault and I'm the one who is so sorry."

Your head shook, but Billy continued,

"They did this to you because of me." Tears filled those sweet baby blues. "Because I don't have a hold of my temper - I fucked them up, so, they fucked you up. This is my fault, I'm so sorry. But look, hey, I'll fix this, okay? I swear to God - I'm gonna fix this."

"The cops got 'em, we don't have t'do anything else," you mumbled. "You don't have to do anything else, Billy."

"Maybe not, but I can't let this go - look at you," a single tear dripped. "Fucking look at you, my sweet girl. In the fucking hospital 'cause of me - I can't - this ain't right. I gotta make it right."

You couldn't answer because a technician was arriving to take you for a CT, MRI, and X-Ray - all of those scans that would tell them what was going on internally. Hopper was seen outside the two boy's rooms - Billy following your bed closely as you where wheeled away. Every scan or test he could remain close for, he was; stepping back when needed, but being sucked right back to your side when able.

By the end of the night, you were released into Billy's care because all patients with head injuries had to have some kind of chaperone, and a few floors up, Steven and Jake were being handcuffed to their hospital beds by Hopper.

"Real lucky I wasn't there when you hit her," Jim Hopper seethed quietly, tightening the cuff on Jake to an uncomfortable grip. "Your parents would need money for your funerals - not bail," he offered one single more glare before leaving the next shift of deputies on duty. He sped all the way home and held Eleven in a suffocating hug.

Turns out, you sustained decent injuries from that night.

A (cleanly) broken ankle. Six different broken ribs. Split lip that required two stitches. Stitched earlobes from where piercings were ripped out. Severely bruised collarbones, bordering on broken. One blackened eye. Along with other generic bruises and cuts, more seemingly discovered as the days drug by slowly.

Billy was ready to mow down anyone in his way at any point, but his only ability to get through the school day was that he saw you everyday afterward. He dropped whatever sport and / or club that held his interest, collecting coursework you missed, then driving Max and "Jane" Hopper to your place. He would've lashed out if this was any other situation, but because you asked him to behave and bring you the materials you needed, he did. He played nice.

The two assailants, Steven and Jake, had been arrested by Jim Hopper. They apparently had a rough ride to the station, but that wasn't here or there. What they did to you was far worse that nobody batted a single lash when the two were brought in the station for booking, looking freshly beat up and bloodied. A judge also rejected their bail.

Billy brought you whatever work you missed during your recovery at home, most teachers shocked to see him so diligent in showing up and making the collections. He didn't understand whatever the teachers told him about the work, but you did - and it was fascinating to him, watching you work or study. He usually sat by your window to smoke, but on the occasion, you asked for a toke and wouldn't care about where the smoke blew. So, as weeks passed, he stopped specifically going over to your window; just leaving it open for ventilation so he could remain at your side.

Anything you needed, he got. He did. He gave you. Guilt was one helluva motivator and Billy was chalked-full; so, he did the only thing he knew he could, being acts of service.

You were laid up, it made sense. He could bring you into the shower, get naked himself and help you bathe. He could carry you downstairs, cook for you, help out around the house by keeping it clean because he knew it stressed you out. He would collect the mail, water plants, do dishes, just turned into a househusband that made your stomach and cheeks feel all warm and fuzzy. Never did you think Billy had the ability to be domestic, but here he was, in your great-grandmother's kitchen, wearing a stained apron while trying to bake cookies while you worked on a physics project.

"Hey, Bee?"

"What's wrong?" He asked instantly, setting the hot tray to the stove.

"No, hey, calm down," you smiled with a small laugh. "I was just wondering... You know, like... What's gotten into you?"

"Huh?"

"You know what I mean," you huffed, setting your pencil down. "You literally haven't let me out of your sight except when you're at school."

He shrugged, "You need help."

"You don't ask if I do."

"I don't need to ask when I can just see it."

"Billy."

He sighed and begrudgingly scraped cookies off the hot tray to rest on the cooling sheets. "Your dad asked me to stay close," he offered.

"Bullshit."

"No, really," Billy insisted. "He's in and out with work, so, he asked me to stick around, just in case."

"Okay, fine, but it's more than that. Billy, tell me the truth, baby, please. It's not a bad thing, I'm just curious what's really going on."

"I'm just... I'm just nervous, you know?"

Your head cocked, "Why's that?"

"Look what happened to you," he chuckled ruefully. "All fucked up, can't even go t'school until your ribs are healed - all 'cause of me. 'Cause I fucked up and went too far - "

"William," you snapped, making his wide, shocked eyes meet yours. "I'm not gonna listen to this anymore. Okay? I know you're sorry, you tell me everyday, andI know you're feeling guilty, but this isn't your fault, you're not the one who put hands on me - "

You flinched when he lobbed the cookie tray into the sink, causing a ruckus, his voice yelling over the noise, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

"William!"

"I'm trying to protect you!" He yelled, tears swelling when he whipped around to face you. "I-I don't know what else to do! Look, okay, say what you fucking want, but the truth is, those two assholes came at you 'cause of me. Okay? 'Cause I had to be myself and beat the shit outta them 3 months ago, they never forgave - they didn't forget. I put you in this situation, that now? Now, yeah!" He laughed without humor. "Yeah! I'm fucking nervous leaving you alone! Fuck knows what could happen to you, and who's to say there aren't more people out there just waiting for this kinda opportunity! Baby!" He rushed for you at the kitchen table, your mouth sewn shut in shock as he found his knees in front of you and took both your hands in his. "Baby, listen to me. You're the only thing - no, I'm serious!" He insisted when you looked ready to protest this sentiment you've heard before. "You're the only thing I fucking care about, that I want to protect, and they all know it - I don't exactly hide it. I love you so fucking much, they'd do this again - they'd fucking hurt you to get to me and that idea just..." He sighed, looking lost.

You pulled a hand free to instantly caress his cheek, turning his attention upward until his eyes met yours. "Billy," you whispered, "baby, nobody's after us. This was just a freak accident, this was a fluke, okay? You're worried anyone else is gonna come at me, at us, but I know nobody else is that fucking stupid. They wouldn't test you, and Jake and Steven took advantage of an already bad situation. Okay? We had a fight - which was pretty public. So, people knew we were at odds, and when I showed up at that party alone, started drinking, it was their perfect opportunity to strike."

"You can't say that, we don't know if anyone else is gonna test us," he sniffled. "I've made a lot of mistakes... Pissed a lot of people off. One of them might've grown a pair."

"Okay," you relented, "then I guess we're gonna have to stick together, you know... So you can keep me safe, right?"

He chuckled dryly, "I'm trying, princess."

"Well, we can work out a better way - one that doesn't run you into the fucking ground, Billy, Jesus," you searched his face. "Are you sleeping? At all?"

"'Course I am - "

"Don't lie to me."

He sighed, deflating a little, "I sleep... Only when I stay here."

"Billy, you stay only a couple nights a week when Daddy's home."

"I know."

"So, you basically only sleep when Daddy's out of town and you stay here?" You squeaked, watching him nod; pouting and feeling your own guilt brew. "Baby... Look, can we just agree that this isn't either of our faults? Right? Yeah? If I'm not allowed to think this was my fault, you aren't either."

"I was the one they wanted t'hurt," he shook his head. "They did this 'cause of me, sweetheart, how can you be so - so - fuck! So fucking understanding a-and forgiving?"

"Because I love you," you answered like it was common knowledge, even giving a small giggle.

"That doesn't... But that doesn't even - "

"What? Mean anything? Bee, it means everything," you smiled at him. "I love you, so, when you make mistakes, I forgive you - even though there's nothing you've done. I mean," you winced slightly, "sure, maybe we could reduce the kids you bully or beat up, you know, limit the enemies we might make. And this is something that can be redeemed, can't it?"

He stared at you from the floor, slowly deflating, "Can it? I've fucked up so much, doll, I don't think I deserve whatever forgiveness you wanna give me."

"You can't keep beating yourself up," you snipped. "Hey? Hear me? Look, it happened - it fucking sucked, but it happened and it's fucking over. We both need one another to help move on, okay? So, I need you back, Bee, I need my man back because we need to get through this together. You don't get to sulk in your guilt, I don't get to stew in my regret, we need to help each other out of this."

Billy sniffled, "How? How do we move on when you've still got stitches in your lip?"

"They'll dissolve in a few days," you shrugged meekly. "We move on together, okay? Maybe you pick up basketball again, try to distract yourself. Billy, we need some normalcy again, right? You know?"

"Doll, being away from you makes me feel like my lungs are gonna pop," he shook his head. "I'm afraid something might happen if I'm not there, it's fucking scary after finding you in your own blood."

"Then I'll be at every practice," you eased. "You can drive me to and from school, then you know where I am - you'll know I'm safe."

Billy stared at you a moment, fully dropping to the floor as his energy finally drained. He ran a hand through his hair, rustling the curls, admitting in a soft voice, "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not feel so guilty, how to move forward."

"There's no playbook," you agreed. "Guess it means we gotta figure it out ourselves, but again, we do it together. C'mere," you sighed, lowering yourself to the floor with your booted ankle held out.

"No, don't - "

"Fuck off, I'm not totally unable to do shit," you grunted, adjusting yourself and reaching for him. "Come here, please, I wanna hold you! Been cuddling me this whole time, lemme be the big spoon, please."

"Just told me to fuck off, sweetheart, kinda sending some mixed signals, aren't'cha?" He chuckled, turning so his back was to your chest; leaning so you supported him in his slump. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he muttered, holding the arm around his collarbones. "I really - if I knew this was gonna happen, I'd never of fought them."

"I know, and I forgive you," you whispered in his ear. "But we can't keep doing this back and forth, okay? I forgive you, Billy, no more apologies."

He sighed, "Yeah... All right..."

"Steven and Jake are arrested, we won't have t'see them again. Hopper will make sure of that," you smirked against the shell of his ear. "And the doctors said I should be good to return to school next week, but I'm out of cheer and everything."

He groaned, "Just something else I've fucked up for you."

"Oh, please, I love the time off," you teased. "Gives me all the time I need to watch my man on the court, huh?" He half-chuckled at your words. "You know I'm ahead in all my classes now, too? Teaching myself at home is far superior than the teacher's bitching at us for eight hours."

"You're gonna love college, baby," he chuckled, the two of you lulling into a comfortable silence. You held him tightly, nuzzled into his neck; both sitting in your emotions, trying to navigate a way out.

"We good?" You whispered.

"We're good," Billy agreed, just as soft. "No more apologies... Try to have less guilt. But you're gonna let me stay close, right?"

"I want you clinging to me so hard, I can't fucking breathe," you smirked. "And if Daddy really asked you to stick around, then you're welcome to stay here longer, even if he's here... Where I can have you close to me," you whispered, licking the skin under his ear. He stiffened.

"No - you better not," he squirmed when you licked again, adding a little teeth in a scrape.

"Billy," you pouted. "It's been weeks!"

"You're still hurt," he argued, turning on the floor to look at you. "I'm not gonna be responsible for breaking another of your ribs 'cause we were horny."

"I'm doing so much better, though!"

"Tell you what," he smirked. "Next business trip of your dad's, I'll fuck you all weekend - wherever you want, however you want."

"He has one in two weeks."

"Mhm, and you have a check up before he leaves."

You eyed him for a moment, "When did you become responsible?"

"I've always been."

"No, this is new. You're remembering dates and my doctor appointments and my dad's work schedule."

"Maybe I just like taking care of you," he whispered against your lips with a growing smirk. After pecking you lips, he quipped, "So, shut up and let me."

"Yes, sir."

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

[corroded-hellfire]

Red Hot - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

Collaboration with the woman who makes this series possible @munson-blurbs 💚

Summary: It’s been one year since you and Eddie discovered your feelings for one another—and so much more. Now, it’s your anniversary and a romantic evening is planned. Unfortunately, life with two little boys around tends to throw some wrenches in your life—even on special nights like this.

Note: I cannot believe it’s been a year since I posted the first part of As You Wish. It was only intended to be this spicy one shot but so many people asked for a part 2 and…here we are! I can’t thank all of you enough for reading. It means more to me than you know 💜

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), breeding kink, oral, m and f receiving, vomit, implied medical issues, age gap, older!eddie

Words: 5.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

One whole year has passed of you being with Eddie. One year since the night he’d come home sullen after what was supposed to be a nice evening out, only to find that his deepest desire was right there waiting for him on the worn blue couch in his living room. 

Honestly, it was the night both of your wishes came true. Such dark secrets you each harbored, never thinking that the other could possibly return the feelings.  You, thinking he wouldn’t see you as anything more than a babysitter for his two kids. Him, thinking you’d never be interested in a man over a decade older than you. The spark finally lit the flame though, leading to the best year of your lives. The best year of the boys’ lives as well. Neither you nor Eddie had ever seen the kids in all around better moods than this past year—and that’s even with the divorce and custody proceedings. 

A romantic date night was planned for the one year anniversary, a date that came with some discussion at first. You had brought up that you weren’t a fan of having your anniversary with Eddie on the same day that was his wedding anniversary with Brittany. Eddie was quick to assure you that this had just been the night he and Brittany were able to get out and celebrate their anniversary—not the actual day itself. 

“Pretty sure the fun you and I had that night went past midnight, into the next day anyway,” Eddie added with a smirk.

So, the evening was planned. An intimate dinner out together while Ryan has a sleepover at his friend Charlie’s house and Luke spends the night with Wayne. 

Even though you didn’t officially live with the Munson men yet, you did spend more time than not at their apartment. A drawer in Eddie’s dresser contained a stash of your clothes, a toothbrush sat right next to Eddie’s by the sink, and if you weren’t spending the night, the boys would call up at bedtime to say goodnight to you anyway. So, it made perfect sense for you to get ready at the apartment so you and Eddie could just go together to drop Luke off and Wayne’s and then be on your way to the restaurant. 

You’re in Eddie’s room, leaning over his dresser to get a better look at your face in the mirror as you apply eyeliner. Eddie is wearing black dress pants with a gray shirt that make you want to rip them right off. He’s currently securing his hair in a low bun as you do your best not to stab yourself in the eye with the stubby little black pencil. 

Just as you finish applying mascara, you hear the soft pitter-patter of Luke’s feet headed towards the master bedroom. 

“I frew up.”

“Oh, Christ,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, swiveling on one heel. “What happened?”

Luke shrugs. “My tummy hurt and then I frew up. But I got most of it in the toilet; wanna see?”

Eddie just looks at you, twisting the mascara wand back into the tube, then back at his son. 

“Most of it?” Eddie asks.

“Mhm.” Luke scampers back to the bathroom, and you and Eddie follow reluctantly. 

Both you and your boyfriend were expecting the smell to be worse as you step into the bathroom. Your eyes are on the ground, making sure not to step in anything Luke wasn’t able to get in the toilet. 

The sick mess in the toilet—and around it—is bright red. 

“Shit.” Eddie scoops up Luke, not caring that there’s now vomit on his dress shirt. “Luke, did you have any fruit snacks today at lunch? Gushers or Fruit Roll-Ups or something like that?”

The little boy shakes his head. “Just a chocolate chip cookie.”

Eddie looks at you, horrified. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen true fear in Eddie’s eyes, and it curdles your own stomach. 

“We have to get him to the hospital,” Eddie says. His tone is urgent, but not panicked. The last thing you need is for Luke to start freaking out. 

You nod in reply, already heading out into the hall, grabbing all three of your coats from the closet and tucking them under your arm. 

Luke is clearly confused. He keeps looking back and forth between you and his father, his little brow pinching together. 

“Why are we going to the hopsital?” he asks. “I feel good!”

Famous last words, Eddie thinks. He needs both hands and feet to count the number of times his kids have claimed that they weren’t sick just moments before they inevitably crashed. 

Neither you nor your boyfriend know how to respond to Luke, so you silently help him into his coat while Eddie shrugs on his own. The keys clang as Eddie takes them off a peg by the front door and tosses them your way. Then he picks up a still-confused Luke and heads out the door.

You drive while Eddie sits in the backseat with Luke. It’s quite obvious you two adults are more stressed out than the six-year-old is. Both of you keep checking in on him but there’s no deviation from the usual Luke-ness that you know and love. 

“How do you feel?” you ask, glancing at Luke in the rear view mirror.

“I’m hungry; can we get McDonalds?”

When you arrive at the emergency room, you pick up Luke to carry so Eddie can go ahead and alert the employees at the intake desk of what’s going on. 

The biting February wind stings your nose and cheeks as you cross the parking lot, but Luke keeps chatting away as though it’s just a regular evening.

“Did you know that birds feed their babies by frowing up in their beaks?”

“Wow, you know so many things,” you manage, trying to tamper your nausea and nerves.

“That’s like if you chewed up my chicken nuggets and spit them into my mouth.”

“Yup, I’ve got the visual.”

Secretly, your insides warm up, flattered that he considers you the “mommy bird.”

“My teacher got pooped on by a bird today, but she didn’t even notice.”

He continues talking through the whole process: waiting, triage, until he’s assigned a room and asked to wear a hospital gown. The moment you step out of the room to give him some privacy, it feels as if the world outside the small room has gone silent, save for the occasional beep from medical instruments. Now it’s too quiet without Luke’s chattering. Needing to do something besides just standing there, full of nervous energy, you walk down the hall to find a payphone and call Wayne to let him know what’s going on. 

Back in the room, Eddie is trying to get his nerves under control. Nothing’s wrong, he tries to assure himself. And even if there was—which there isn’t—he’s in the best possible place he could be and surrounded by professionals who probably see all sorts of things far worse than whatever this might be. 

“Where are the pants?” Luke asks, looking like a dog chasing its tail as he tries to get a look at the back of the gown. 

“No pants,” Eddie tells him as he ties the strings together in the back for him. There’s a soft knock on the door and Eddie tugs it open. 

You step back into the room and Luke grins and holds his arms out at his sides.

“Look! I’m wearing a dress just like you!”

Despite the seriousness of the visit, you can’t help but smile. Though your purple A-line dress looks nothing like the white gown covered in blue dots that he’s wearing. 

“Now you’re my twin instead of Daddy’s,” you tease.

That makes Luke giggle, and he sits down on the bed, dangling his short legs over the side. It isn’t long before Luke is taken back for tests, most of which Eddie is allowed to accompany him for. You know that’s probably bringing far more comfort to Eddie than Luke at the moment. 

You wait back in the room, anxious thoughts getting the better of you now that you’re alone and have time for your brain to wander. There are a bunch of brochures spread out on a table, so you decide to flip through some of them, keep your mind busy. None of them seem relevant to any medical issue you’ll ever have; then again, you never pictured yourself rushing a kid to the hospital for bloody puke, so you plunk down with a booklet on goiters. It mentions scurvy, which reminds you of Luke, and you have to stifle your amusement before you become known as the Woman Who Laughs at Goiters. 

The nurse brings Luke and Eddie back to the room, along with an old coloring book and some crayons. Artist that he is, Luke is already eyeing the different colors to see which one he’ll want to use first.

“It’ll be another hour until we have all the results,” the nurse announces somewhat apologetically. 

Eddie manages a weak smile as he plops into his chair. You reach over and slide your hand into his. A gentle squeeze greets your touch, and you give him one back in reassurance. 

Finally making his decision, Luke plucks a red crayon out of the box. 

“Did you know that these don’t taste like cherry?”

Everyone—including this poor nurse—stares at him.

“Luke,” Eddie starts, “why would you think it tastes like cherry?”

“Evan Holloway said it did,” Luke replies absentmindedly as he starts to color a fire truck, “but I think he was just kidding, because it tasted gross.”

Eddie bites back a comment about how the kid didn’t stand a chance at being nice with parents like Heather Holloway and Billy Hargrove. It’s not the time or place though.

“When did you eat the crayon?” You investigate further.

“Today during arts and crafts,” he says, tongue poking out of his lips as he concentrates on the drawing at hand. 

You and Eddie both look at the nurse apologetically.

“When I asked you about what you ate today that was red, why didn’t you mention the crayon?” Eddie’s teeth are gritted as he tries to maintain his composure. 

“You asked about fruit snacks, not crayons.” He pauses and looks up from his coloring book. “But don’t worry; I took the paper off first.”

“Oh, good.” Eddie rolls his eyes, and you put your hand on his shoulder. 

Luke’s confession—and subsequent perfect test results—allow him to be discharged. He falls asleep in the car almost as soon as Eddie puts it in drive and leaves the parking lot. 

The ride home is draped in comfortable, relaxing silence. After hours of machines incessantly beeping, doctors checking in, and Luke whining about his boredom, the quiet is certainly welcome. At least now there’s a massive weight off of your and Eddie’s shoulders.

The little boy doesn’t even stir when you arrive at home, so Eddie carries him into the apartment and to his room, gently tucking him into bed. 

“G’night, crazy kid,” he says with a soft laugh. He kisses his forehead, and you do the same before you both head to your own bedroom. 

“Baby, I’m so tired—” Eddie starts, the two of you practically collapsing onto the queen-sized mattress. 

You muster up a nod. “Me, too, Eds.” 

“Raincheck on me rocking your world?” he smirks, leaning in and kissing your nose. 

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I’m home!”

Ryan’s excited voice jolts you awake; when you glance at the clock, it’s only a bit after 7 AM. Charlie’s mom must’ve been eager to end the sleepover. 

Eddie pushes himself up on an elbow and cracks one eye open. “Wait, Ry; how did you get in the house?” He didn’t have a spare key, and Eddie always made sure the doors were locked at night. 

Ryan shrugs. “I rang the buzzer and Luke let me in.”

Eddie groans and lets out a yawn. He’ll have to remind his youngest son about making sure an adult knows someone’s coming into the house, but he doesn’t have the energy now. Instead, he focuses on Ryan. “Ya have fun at Charlie’s?”

“Yeah!” he chirps. “We had—” 

You slowly sit up, trying to keep your temper at being woken up. “Can we hear this story over breakfast, Ry?”

He agrees and bounds into the kitchen, you and Eddie sleepily trailing behind. 

Luke is already halfway through a bowl of Frosted Flakes when the three of you walk out to the kitchen. 

“Ryan!” he shouts, way too loud for this early in the morning. Cereal sprays everywhere, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I went to the hospital last night!” 

Ryan’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “What?!”

“Yeah! I just told Grandpa about it.”

Eddie frowns in confusion. “When did you talk to Grandpa?” He grabs a bowl from the pantry and pours himself some cereal. Nothing sugary like the boys eat; those days are behind him. 

“I just called him before when I woke up,” Luke says with a shrug.

You throw some Eggos in the toaster for Ryan while the boys both regale you with their respective tales. Luke manages to make it sound much more fun than it actually was last night, tapping into his father’s knack for storytelling. Part of you is surprised there’s no supernatural elements to this tale. 

A little later in the day there’s a knock on the door. Eddie turns the knob and is surprised to see Wayne on the other side. He raises his eyebrows as he regards the older man. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks before realizing how that sounded. “I mean, hi.”

“I told Luke I was coming over,” Wayne says, nodding to the younger boy coming up behind his father. 

Eddie looks at the boy as he closes the door behind Wayne. 

“Luke, you never told me that.”

“You didn’t ask.”

Even though he already told him on the phone, Luke once again laments the events of last night to his grandfather. Once he’s done, Ryan tells Wayne all about his sleepover at Charlie’s last night. 

When he finally gets a moment to talk to you and Eddie without the rugrats around, Wayne offers to take the boys for the rest of the day and overnight so the two of you can have a do over on your anniversary date.

“You sure, Old Man?” Eddie asks.

“Positive. I’ll just keep ‘em away from crayons.”

The moment the three of them leave, Eddie locks the door behind them and grabs your hand to drag you into the bedroom.

“Eds!”

“Oh, right; where are my manners?” Eddie admonishes himself. “I should take you out to eat first.” He heads into the kitchen and fishes the brochure for your go-to Chinese restaurant. Not even needing to ask you, he orders your favorites before hanging up and turning back to you. “Now, time for my meal.” There’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “If you don’t cum in thirty minutes, your next orgasm is free.”

The moment your back lands on the bed, he tugs off your pants and panties and buries himself between your legs. There’s time for slow and romantic later, you both need each other now.

“This pussy is perfect, goddamn.”

Any response is futile as words have left your brain the second Eddie’s tongue flicks over your clit. He does it over and over again, causing your abdomen muscles to tighten and your fists grip the blanket below you. 

You let your eyes fall closed and lose yourself in the feeling of Eddie sucking on your clit. He knows the exact speeds and pressures to get you where he wants you, changing it up in the most pleasurable of ways. As your back arches off the bed at a particularly harsh suck, Eddie slips two fingers into your waiting hole, meeting no resistance. Being stretched by and filled with Eddie just has you that much closer to hitting your high. 

Eddie pumps his fingers in time with his licks and it isn’t long before you feel that familiar heat building up in your body. Your boyfriend must be able to sense this as well, because he curls his fingers up against your walls as his tongue continues to flick over your sensitive bundle of nerves. It’s enough to have you seeing stars. Part of you wants it to last longer, but you know Eddie will do this again and again for you if you ask. The thought of him wanting to make you feel good and wanting your body so much is the push you need into oblivion.

“Fuck! Oh shit, Eddie,” you whine, a hand going down to grip his hair. “I’m—I’m coming.”

Eddie knows how to extract every last wave of pleasure from you as he works you through the orgasm. This he’ll take his time with, after being in such a haste to get you off. You feel boneless as you lay on the bed, utterly wrecked from your boyfriend’s thick fingers and sinful mouth. 

You whine as Eddie slips his fingers from your pussy, but the whine turns into a moan when he pops them into his mouth. It’s suddenly given you a burst of energy.

“My turn,” you say, giving him a salacious grin. 

Eddie flings his shirt into an abyss of laundry and rolls onto his back so you can trail kisses down his torso. He giggles when your fingers brush against his stomach as you unbuckle his belt and tug his pants off. His erection springs free, already leaking pre-cum from getting you off. 

“Such a pretty cock, Eds,” you muse, your lips tenderly touching the head. “And it’s all mine, huh?”

“Y-Yup,” his breath hitches. “All yours; please, please suck it for me.”

You happily oblige—as if there was any doubt that you would—licking from base to tip with a flattened tongue. His thighs twitch at the contact, the movement punctuated with a low groan. You never knew how much you appreciated a vocal man until you’d slept with Eddie. Now it’s a goal of yours to get him to make as much noise as possible.

“Oh, princess,” he growls, fingers twisting in the sheets. “Baby girl.”

Your hand grasps the part of him that doesn’t fit in your mouth, leaving no square inch of his cock untouched in some way. You want—no, you need—to make him feel good. Thinking back to that first time together, fueled by lust, but also a desire for one another. A longing that had burned steady in both of you. Eddie could have waited up for Brittany and had lackluster sex; you could have hooked up with that guy from your anthropology class who’s always checking you out. But that wouldn’t have been satisfying; you craved Eddie and Eddie craved you. It was impossible to satisfy that urge any other way.

He bucks his hips gently now, his signal that he’s close. You pump him faster, grip him tighter, until he’s spilling into your mouth and down your chin. 

Once you’re satisfied that you’ve milked everything you can from him, you pull off and swallow his load. Eddie manages just enough strength to lift his head up as he attempts to catch his breath. His eyes darken as he watches you lick your lips and wipe off the cum that drooled out onto your chin and pop it in your mouth. 

“God damn,” Eddie breathes out. 

You share in that sentiment. This fast and rough sex is exactly what the two of you needed after such a scary and stressful evening last night.

The doorbell rings and your boyfriend flops his head back down, his curls spilling around his pillow like a halo. 

“Want me to get it?” you offer, pushing yourself off the bed.

“Uh uh,” Eddie tuts. He haphazardly reaches over the side of the bed to search for his boxers. “Only I get to see you looking this wrecked.” A playful wink is thrown your way as Eddie sits up. He hops off the bed and slips on his boxers, sweats, and an old Deep Purple t-shirt. “You get dressed, baby.” 

“Don’t wanna,” you say with a pout. 

It makes Eddie chuckle, and he presses a kiss to the side of your head before reaching for the knob on the bedroom door.

“Don’t worry, we can take them off again later.”

Eddie strolls out of the room, and you raid your drawer in his dresser. There’s an old pair of jeans shoved in the back that you pull out and hop into those while you scoop one of Eddie’s old Hellfire shirts that he let you cut and customize to your liking—a true sign of love right there—laying over the arm of a chair. 

When you meet Eddie in the living room, he’s unpacking your food into the coffee table. There’s a pile of VHS tapes in the corner of the room, and though most of them are the kids’, you manage to find Benny & Joon and pop that into the player. 

The moment you plop down on the couch next to Eddie, he wraps his arm around your hips and tugs your body up against his. 

“It’s difficult to eat with one hand, you know,” you tell him when he doesn’t move his arm.

“I’ll deal.”

Somehow, he does—even if it causes a bit of a mess on the couch and coffee table.

Eddie swallows a mouth full of rice and turns to look at you. His eyes take in your profile, the expression on his face turning to adoring almost instantly.

“I’m really grateful that you were there with me last night,” he admits, voice softer and more serious than usual. “I don’t know if I would’ve been able to handle that without you.”

The way that you look at him from beneath your eyelashes takes his breath away. He gets just as stunned by your beauty now as he did when he opened the front door that first time he met you.

“Yes, you could’ve,” you assure him. “You’re stronger than you think, Eddie. But I’m glad you didn’t have to do it alone. There’s nowhere I’d rather have been at the moment than with you. Well…I’d have liked not to have had to go to the hospital at all, but you know.”

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head. “Turns out we didn’t need to anyway.” Your boyfriend sighs and runs a hand over his face. “God, Luke’s gonna kill me someday.”

“Kill you with his cuteness, you mean.”

“You mean because he looks just like me?” Eddie asks, a cocky smirk dancing on his lips.

“Of course,” you say with a chuckle. You lean in and press your lips to Eddie’s, resting your hand on his chest.

“You mean the world to me,” Eddie whispers against your lips. He knows he’s told you that many times, in many different ways. But it’s because he needs you to know how true it is. Having a partner who he can count on and trust with his life—with his son’s lives. It’s new to him, and even after a year, it surprises him every day how much you do for him and the boys. Your kindness and your heart are bottomless, he’s decided. And though he has no clue how he got so lucky, he’s not about to question it.

“I feel the same way about you,” you reply, also in a soft tone. Eddie always tells you the way that you make his life better, but he tends to brush you off when you try to do the same. He believes you deserve more than him, but he doesn’t realize there isn’t any more than him. He is everything.

“I can’t believe we’ve been together a year,” Eddie says. Sometimes it feels like it went by in the blink of an eye, but when he thinks about all the shit the two of you have had to overcome, he thinks that a year feels about right.

“Best year ever,” you say. “Even dealing with a certain psycho couldn’t ruin it.” You don’t want to mention Brittany by name, but you need to let him know that you’d do it all over time and time again despite her and all the bullshit.

“Aw, come on. Ryan’s not that bad,” Eddie jokes. You giggle and bury your face in his neck. Electricity sparks where your skin rests against his and Eddie wraps you up in his arms. “Happy anniversary, baby. I love you much.”

“I love you too,” you murmur against his skin. You go to wish him a happy anniversary as well, but Eddie’s loud growling stomach steals your thunder and sends you into another round of giggles. “Would you like some of my food?”

“God, you’re perfect.”

Not five minutes after the two of you finish your food, Eddie has you on your back, his body resting comfortably on top of yours as you makeout. The kisses are slow and passionate, taking your time to explore one another’s mouths. Hands roam each other’s bodies, some soft touches and some rough grabs—all of it possessive.

Needing air, Eddie pulls his mouth from yours and begins to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Strong fingers dig into your hips as you lift your own hands to tangle in his soft curls.

“Bedroom?” Eddie growls against your skin.

“No,” you say, wrapping your legs around the man’s hips to keep him where he is. “Want you here.”

“Mm, whatever my princess wants,” Eddie mutters, punctuating it by grazing your jaw with his teeth. Slowly, he sits up, bringing you with him until you’re seated comfortably in his lap.

You shiver, his tongue warm against your neck and hands strong on your back and sides. It’s as though you can’t be close enough to him, your hips rolling to create a friction that has both of you aroused. 

Eddie unbuttons your jeans disapprovingly. “Don’t know why you even bothered to put these back on,” he tuts, apparently forgetting that he was the one who told you to. “Now I gotta rip ‘em off again. Making this harder than it needs to be.”

“Tell me more about making things harder,” you tease, grinding against his stiff length with the intent of feeling him through your panties. 

“You’re trouble,” he murmurs into your mouth, a smile twitching on his lips. “I fuckin’ love it.”

Your pants get shrugged down your legs, not even making it all the way off, and your lace thong gets pushed over slightly to expose your pussy. Eddie pulls himself out of his boxers and runs his cock along your soaked core before aligning himself with your entrance. 

“Tha’s it,” he moans as you sink onto him, taking every inch within your walls. “Fuck, you know exactly what I want.”

You bite your lip and nod. It’s as though your brain clicks off when he first enters you, your head filled only with thoughts of Eddie Eddie Eddie. 

Once you regain some semblance of sanity, you hold onto his biceps and bounce on his cock, the tip hitting your sweet spot over and over. “So big—so full,” you manage, eyes rolling back as he thrust up into you. 

“That’s right; you’re fuckin’ full of me,” he grits out, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. “And I’m gonna pump you full of my cum, too.”

You nod before gently biting down on his shoulder. “Please. Want your cum.”

“I know you do, princess. Because I’ve gotta fill you with my cum to knock you up, don’t I?”

You can only whimper in response, but that isn’t satisfactory for your boyfriend. 

“Words, princess.”

“Want you to knock me up!” It comes out in one pathetic breath. 

His thrusts become more frantic, needier. “Oh, I don’t think you want it,” he goads. “I think you need it. I think you need me to get you pregnant, so you can show off that you fuckin’ belong to me—and only me.”

Tears form along your lash line; your orgasm is so close, but you know he can withhold your pleasure if you don’t answer him. “Need your baby,” you whisper. “Need everyone to know I’m yours.”

“God fuckin’ damn.” The thought of you swollen with pregnancy has him unhinged, his thumb circling your clit as his own release nears. “Gonna fuck you so full.”

You clench around him, chanting his name while you cum. He follows, holding down your hips so he can slam into you and give you every last drop. 

A string of breathy whines leaves your lips as you lower your head down to Eddie’s shoulder. His grip on you softens and slowly glides up your body until one hand trails up and down your back and the other cups the back of your head. 

“How was that?” he murmurs.

“Fucking amazing and you know it,” you mumble against his shoulder. 

Eddie chuckles and you pick your head up to press your lips against his. 

“Don’t wanna move,” you say with a sigh.

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie coos. “Just want to keep me inside of you forever, don’t you?”

As hard as he just made you cum, you shouldn’t get so instantly turned on by his words and teasing tone. And though he may be teasing, he is also absolutely correct. 

You push against his chest playfully and reluctantly move yourself off of his lap. As gracefully as you can manage—which isn’t very—you lay back down on the couch. A trickle down the inside of your thigh tells you that Eddie’s cum is escaping. Your boyfriend seems to notice this just as you do.

“Absolutely not,” he says as uses two fingers to shove it back into you. 

The feeling has your eyes fluttering closed as you let your muscles relax into the cushions. 

“Ah, shit,” Eddie says.

“What?” you ask, forcing your eyes open. Eddie’s looking down and you follow his line of sight to see that some of his cum got away from both of you and landed on your jeans. “Oh, it’s okay. They’re—huh.”

A giggle begins to bubble up out of you and Eddie raises an eyebrow in question.

“Eds, these are the same jeans I was wearing that night,” you tell him.

“Our first night?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I couldn’t find them when I went to get dressed. Someone else did though and threw them in my face.” You chuckle at the memory. “I didn’t even remember I had these jeans stashed here at your place.” 

“And as nice as they are,” Eddie drawls, crawling on top of your body, “I think you look far better without them on. Or any pants. Or any clothes.”

You smirk up at him and drape your arms around his neck. “What do you say we make some new stains, then?”

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

[therapycat21]

All Right Now part 1

Travis Kelce x Famous!Reader Description: The reader catches the eye of famous footballer Travis.

Warnings: None Social media AU

ReaderOfficial:

Liked by:@brittanymahomes and 453,558 others

ReaderOfficial: Chillin with my girl!! go chiefs!! @brittanymahomes

user87: did not know she was a chiefs fan!!

user85:Since when!??

@brittanymahomes: soo much funn! love you girl!

ReaderOfficial: I know right, can't wait to do this again, love you too mama!

I'm broken from my thoughts by Brittany nudging my arm "Here is your drink" she hands me my drink before sitting back down next to me "I cannot believe you are even here right now" she laughs. I laugh taking a small sip of my drink "Why is it such a shock, I like football, just can't stand being bombarded by fans sometimes" I respond with a small laugh "Oh, and the jumbo camera, they're gonna know I'm here sooner or later and blast my face up there" I tell her. "You are absolutely not wrong" Brittany breaks out into laughter, earning us looks from the other families in the box.

Before I knew it, the game started, and everyone including me and Brit cheered for the players coming onto the field. Brittany louder after noticing Pat come out. I hear more cheering on the right of me from another family "Yeah! Let's go, baby!" the unknown man claps loudly "Come on Trav whoo!" The unknown man keeps clapping loudly with the two little girls next to him doing the same.

The game starts and right when the ball is thrown number 87 catches, bolting down the field, I look around and everyone is going crazy, hoping he makes the touchdown, me and Brit are standing, clenching our cups as everyone else in the stadium is and not even a second later he jumps and makes the touchdown. "OH my god!!" I yell at Brittany, jumping up and down clapping with her, we watch as he throws the ball into the crowd and starts dancing, we then hear the announcer

"TOUCHDOWN!! BY TRAVIS KELCE EVERYBODY!!!" The announcer screams. "Oh my god, that was absolutely amazing," I say out loud "I know right!" I hear from the right of me. It was the unknown man. He and the woman next to him laugh before the woman introduces herself "Hi, this is Jason, and I'm Kylie" she says extending her hand to mine. "Hi, it's nice to meet you guys!" I shake both of their hands. Before I knew it, Me, Kylie, and Brittany were all sitting together and talking about random stuff.

And all of a sudden the crowd goes silent before breaking out into wild screams and the announcers voice radiates through the stadium

"WE HAVE A SPECIAL LADY IN THE HOUSE TONIGHT, GIVE A WARM WELCOME TO 10-TIME GRAMMY AWARD WINNER, 6-TIME VMA WINNER Y/N!!!" My face is then popped on the jumbo screen, I stand up and start to shyly wave at everyone, and all I hear is the crowd screaming, I keep smiling until I decide to flash the Jersey I'm wearing (Imagine It's a Chief's jersey!) I look over and see Kylie and Brittany laughing before the screen is taken off of me.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Travis P.O.V

I'm walking to sit down on the side when I hear the crowd going crazier than normal and I look up towards the jumbo to see a beautiful woman and the familiar face of Mahome's wife and my sister-in-law Kylie laughing with the woman. Very confused until I hear the announcer

"WE HAVE A SPECIAL LADY IN THE HOUSE TONIGHT, GIVE A WARM WELCOME TO 10-TIME GRAMMY AWARD WINNER, 6-TIME VMA WINNER Y/N!!!"

oh shit, I knew I recognized her, kylie and the girls always listen to her music. I start laughing loudly before remembering I was mic'd, I reach down and grab onto the small microphone, smirking slightly and looking into one of the mic'd camera "I just seen y/n on the jumbo, just wanna let her know she needs a better jersey, preferably one with my number on the back, all right now " I laugh loudly before going back onto the field. The entire game I don't stop thinking about her and looking up at the family suite already seeing her laughing around with Kylie and Jason. Oh, she is definitely gonna be mine soon.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N P.O.V

We all continue to watch the game after the crowd has now calmed down, with fans still taking pictures of us from afar. "hey y/n? your phone is going crazy right now" Brittany says pointing to the phone on the table, I reach over and open Instagram to see I've been tagged a ton over a post the NFL posted.

I play the video and see a guy with jersey 87 "I just seen y/n on the jumbo, just wanna let her know she needs a better jersey, preferably one with my number on the back, all right now " he smirks before laughing and running back onto the field. I can't stop the blush from spreading to my cheeks "Are you blushing right now?" Brittany asks me "Maybe" I laugh before covering my face "What's making you blush?" I then showed her my phone and played the video "Oh my god" she broke out into laughter gaining the attention of Kylie back over "What is going on over here?" she smiled, before I could say anything "Trav did a mic'd moment and told her she needs a new jersey but with only his number on it" Brittany tells her, "Oh my god, I cannot believe he did that, I gotta go tell Jason" she walks away laughing back to Jason. Being confused I ask Brit "Does she know him?" I question "Yeah, it's her husband Jason's younger brother" she replies turning back to the game. I look around before liking the post and posting it onto my story with the caption "time to upgrade the number ;)" Another hour goes by before the game is now over with the Chiefs winning and all of the guys doing their dance moves for the cameras. I get up and gather my stuff before walking over to Ky and Jason Hey just saying goodbye it was so nice to meet you guys" I smile at them before they each give me a hug and their Instagramss and their phone numbers so we can stay in contact.

Me and Brittany are both walking down, being escorted by security when we enter the lobby where some fans are waiting

"y/n I love you!" "we love you!" "when is your new song coming out?"

All I can hear are the questions being thrown at me "Soon my loves!" is all I respond with to them, I stop to sign a few shirts and take quick photos before finally getting to the private car. Taking a deep breath as the door finally shuts and the screams are being muffled.

I'm then broken out of my thoughts from my phone buzzing with notification, the last one shocking me.

kykelce started following you

JasonKelce started following you

Killatrav started following you

Killatrav liked 10 posts!

Like my writing? buy me a coffee! I would be so grateful!

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

The podcast episode

jack hughes x youtuber!reader

note: yes brittany broski talking about the irish man completely inspired this.

As soon as the girl settles in her seat, her camera on, microphone on, and headphones on, she presses the emergency alarm button on her soundboard.

“Hear ye, hear ye! Attention all L/N Nation residents! We have a code red. Open your handbooks to page 226 and look up what a code red is, if you don’t already know! Now in the event of a code red, whatever I say is to never leave the walls of L/N Nation.”

Taking a sip of her water after her yelling, she readjusts her laptop on her lap as she moves around in her seat before continuing, “As you know vice president and bestie, Samantha came from Toronto to Michigan to visit me. And one thing about Sam, is she’s gonna party. So we went to a bar.. And I met someone.. Ahhh! A man. Ahhh!”

Taking a brief pause, Y/n collects herself, comically adjusting her collar and tucking her hair behind her ears.

“Now. I don’t want to give too much away, or spread his life all over my socials. And with that being said, let me tell you everything about him.” The girl said jokingly.

“As we know, I have been looking for an athlete in my life, and I have found one. A hockey player, all those hockey romances you guys have made me read have finally paid off. And I have only dated one man in my life. And I just have to say, talking to a straight man is just like- obviously it’s different from dating a woman, duh dude! But also just being a straight man’s first queer girl he’s like talked to is really a kind of crazy thing. ‘Cause like- and the one man I have dated in my life was also bisexual, so this guy is the first straight guy I've talked to, and the way they operate is so different. Not in an inherently bad way, by any means... I don’t think I should talk anymore..”

“I’m like- I’ve told this guy I do this-” She gestures to the room, as well as the camera, “-as my job, and he knows my first and last name, so he or his friends 100% will see this, one way or another. And maybe I just say that because any person I talk to I stalk everything that has ever been posted with them. Now, let's move on before I scare him away and I don’t get my wag life fantasy.”

The girl wouldn’t know until about a little over a year later, laying in bed with said boy, that he did in fact watch that podcast episode when it aired.

That it didn’t scare him off, in fact it made him like her even more. That it was that podcast episode, seeing the girl blush when she was talking about him, was the reason he asked her out for the first time.

~taglist~

@inejghafawifesblog @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @jackquinnswife

[gr4veyardsblog]

can you please write hazel x cheerleader!reader where hazel has a massive crush on/obsession with reader and either doesn't speak to her at all out of fear or says the dumbest shit because she's so flustered but reader finds it cute?

Not so obvious.

Summary: Hazel has a big crush on reader but is too scared to even talk to her which makes reader begin to think she hates her

A/n : I’m sorry if this is bad but I haven’t written in like 5 years would love some tips in the comments or anything thank you just need to let my feelings out on my obsesión with Hazel- 😼

It was obvious Hazel didn’t like you. How could u not know with her always running off when you come even remotely close to her.

“Hey hazel” you practically yell at you spot her by her locker barely getting there and reaching for a book. But as quick as you see her, as quick as she disappears.

Another time you spot her having a conversation with pj and Josie but this time in class so thought there was no way she could go anywhere. Boy were you wrong.

“Hey guys” just as you were coming up you see hazel speed walk out the classroom door.

Your shoulders slump as you feel slightly off putted by the erupt exit.

———————————————

“Just talk to her” pj said with annoyance in her voice

“It’s not that simple rather just ignore it and act like it doesn’t exist” Hazel says shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head

“Dude it’s way better than you just leaving like she has some sort of virus or something

Hazel shakes her head and sees u walking towards them and quickly looks around for an exit route but thoughts are cut short by your body coming I to view

“Hey guys I was wondering what you guys were doing after school”

Hazel stops listening as she thinks to herself that this is finally her chance to talk to you. Just say hey how are you you look really pretty today. No she’ll think your a total loser today

Suddenly she blurts out as pj is explaining what the club is.

“I love woman “ all three stop and look at her. The tip of her ears turning a bright red eyes widen not believing she said that

“I-I think what she means if we all love and want to suppprt woman” pj said trying to save the conversation

“ so if ur into that stuff you should totally stop by and i don’t know if u want to , bring some of your friends with you like idk” she pretends to think “ maybe Isabel and Brittany for instance just throwing that out there”

Josie shakes her head and grabs pjs arm

“Uh yea I’ll see if they wanna come. I’ll see you all later “ you say walking off after they both said their byes except Hazel

Hazel comes out of her shock and shakes her head

“ what was that” pj said looking at Hazel

“I don’t know it just came out”

“Dude u need serious help if that’s how you flirt “

“ you don’t just blurt I love woman ur lucky I saved your ass”

————————————————————————

“ always be on time “

Pj turns around being cut off with the sound of the gym door opening and seeing you, Isabel and Brittany walk in

“You guys haven’t started right” you chirp out

“No your just in time we were about to start our lesson”

You all sit in a circle awaiting instructions on what is going to happen next.

“Ok we are gonna have two people in the middle fighting- training in self defense”

“First pair” pj looks around the circle smiling to herself and stops at you “y/n and uhh idk hazel”

Hazel freezes and looks at pj with wide eyes as you both stand up and go into the middle

You both begin to circle each other no one making a move to hit the other

“Cmon Hazel! HIT HER! “ hazel widens her eyes too scared to talk to you let alone touch you but goes for it and swings her hand with barely any force to hurt a fly, it slightly grazing your chin

It’s quickly over shadowed by you swinging your fist and it coming into contact with hazels nose

Hazel drops to the floor. Blood all over her nose as you rush down worried

“I’m so sorry Hazel here I’ll help you take care of it”

You help her up you wrapping her arm around your neck as you support her body weight under you as to not drop her.

————————————————————————

You grap a paper towel and run it under the faucet and bring to hazels nose as she sits on the counter of the girls bathroom

She slightly hisses but quickly stops as you lay your hand on her thigh

“I’m so sorry Hazel” you say “ you probably hate me more than what you already do I bet”

Hazes brows furrowed as she looked at you with confusion slapped on her face

“You think I hate you?”

“Well duh, you always leave when I come by or just flat out ignore me when I’m talking to you or to anyone around you. Just assumed the obvious”

Hazle just shook her head and grabbed the paper towel from your hand.

“Hate you? That’s far from it.” She takes a deep breathe this is the time to do it, it’s now or never “i just get so nervous and scared that I’m gonna say the dumbest thing around you. Then you’ll hate me and god how can I recovery from that” she goes on rambling but let’s out a big breathe and calms herself down.

“What I’m trying to say is, I like you more than like you “

You pause and turn a light shade of red not believing what your hearing

“If I could explain in words I would but I could not express how I jamble over my words because of how much I- “ she stops cut off by you grabbing the sides of her face and crashing your lips into hers.

She leans in eyes fluttered close as she lets out a sigh of relieve from the fact that she now knows that you actually like her back.

[shitswiftiessay]

Jesus fucking christ the unhinged lunacy of it all.

I don’t even know where to begin with this but LOL at the complaining about Taylor being called a bitch while they constantly refer to other women as “bitches.” That is so typical of swifties, isn’t it?

Also, no one was there for her when she was SA’d?? She was literally put on the cover of TIME magazine as one of the “silence breakers.” She made herself put to be an advocate for SA victims, that is, until she decided to work with David O’Russell and hang out with Jackson and Brittany Mahomes. Taylor is only a “girl’s girl” when there’s something in it for her.

And nobody was there for Taylor after kanye interrupted her on stage?? This person is either very young or very stupid, because Katy Perry, P!nk (she called Kanye a piece of shit) and even Obama chimed in to call Kanye a jackass after that incident. Lady Gaga cancelled her tour with Kanye and Beyoncé invited her onstage to let her finish her speech. “No one was there for her” my ASS.

And maybe more people would have been there for her in 2016 if she hadn’t been such a mean girl, parading her fake squad around and using it to dunk on another woman (Katy Perry) while pretending to be all about women supporting each other. She literally mean girled Katy for a good 2 1/2 years but swifties love to forget about that as they praise Taylor for being a “girl’s girl.”

Also HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW that Taylor has been nothing but respectful to Billie?? You have no idea what goes on behind the scenes, and I think Olivia might have a different opinion about Taylor being the “sweetest kindest person” to everyone she meets. 🙄

The thing is I actually agree that Taylor doesn’t owe Billie anything. But by the same token, Billie doesn’t owe Taylor shit either. These swifties are so fucking ridiculous literally making threads about why Billie is evil because she collabed with Justin Bieber despite Taylor having drama with him.

They expect Billie to kiss Taylor’s ass and worship the ground Taylor walks on. Well, Olivia did exactly that and she still ended up getting burned.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: 3P {1}

Title: 3P {1}

Lewis Hamilton x Famous Singer Reader x Aaron Pierre

Warning: Angst, 18+ Mature Content, Language,

Words: 2.6k

Summary: “Sharing is caring”, “The more the merrier”, “Love knows no bounds”. There are so many quotes that circulate that can be tied to love and relationships. Two of the many you like happens to be “Two is better than one” and “The more the merrier”. Now it wasn’t like you particularly and purposely went out your way to collect men. That wasn’t the case at all. It’s just that there were two gorgeous faces in the sea of bodies at Coachella that you couldn’t decide which you wanted more. So you decided why choose. That was 4 months ago and now everything was much more complicated than you’d ever intended.

Note: I am the hugest advocate of the “why choose” trope and "why choose" relationships when it comes to women having more than one man (of course while being responsible and transparent). So, we are gonna have our cake and eat it too y’all. Not sure how long this will be, but I’ll write it until it isn’t fun anymore. LOL.

Note II: Do y’all know what 3P means? Hehehehehe! I guess we should thank Ms. Brittany Spears.

As always, thank you guys for reading. I hope you enjoy this.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!

****NOT Edited/Proofread*** ***Slightly Interactive***

Chapter One: Break Down

"I can't share you, Y/N. I--I can't--share you with him", Aaron said.

His voice was small as if he didn't even know if he truly meant the words. You picked up something else in his voice too--pain. Another thing you picked up was his refusal to look at you. But was it refusal or something else?

You sighed softly. It wasn't like you hadn't slightly prepared yourself for this. You had. You wanted to be realistic. The likelihood of both or even one of them being okay with what you were offering was always slim. You’d tried not to allow yourself to get comfortable enough where something like this knocked you out of kilter.

"I know it's not what you want to hear and it's not what you want but I can't. I won't."

Silence. He'd drawn the line in the sand. It was a bold line too. This was him saying that this was his hard limit and no matter how he felt about you he wouldn't cross this line. He was on one side while you were on the other. It had been shaping up to be a beautiful day. The sun was out, birds chirping, the flowers were out in full fragrance and the winds were gentle. It was a beautiful Paris day. Was.

"So that's it?"

Aaron didn't speak immediately. Instead, he kept his head down, elbows on the cafe table with one hand clasped inside the other, both making one large tense fist. You could see the tension in his shoulders and practically feel the discontent rolling off him. You were disappointed by his words, but you couldn't help but feel bad for him too.

"Look at me Aaron," you said softly.

He didn't.

"Come on--please."

He clenched his hands into a tighter fist which made the veins in his hands protrude even more. You tried hard not to imagine those strong hands around you holding you close to his body. You tried even harder to not reach for those hands. Hands you'd held tens of times, hands that had so gently caressed your face, possessively cupped your ass, and even protected you from encroaching paps.

So instead of doing any of that, you laced your fingers together so right not even a wisp of air could infiltrate them, then leaned forward with your elbows resting at the edge of the table so you were now in a mirroring posture to his.

"Aaron," you whispered.

His sudden jerk back took you off guard, as did the outburst that followed, "I can't Y/N! Goddamn it! It's taking everything in me right now to say this to you. If I look at you I know your eyes will make me second guess myself and I'll be right back where I started and that's being in love with a woman who isn't only mine. Sharing the only woman I've loved--truly loved."

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. He'd said them out loud. There was always an air of love surrounding him and his dealing with you. Whether it was gestures to show it, presents to highlight it, thoughtful deeds to insinuate it, or passionate kisses and frenzied body groping in the dark to cement it, but never words to confirm.

Neither of you had spoken them. Now that the words hung between you, you didn't know what to say or do. Did you reach over and pat him on the back? Somehow slip your hand into his Fort Knox-like clenched hands and give them a reassuring and sympathetic squeeze? Lean forward and give him a comforting hug?

You spent so much time trying to think of the right response or reaction that you missed the window to reply or react and unintentionally catapulted this entire meetup into the proverbial toilet.

"Do you have any idea what it feels like to see pictures of you with someone else? I can be scrolling through socials minding my business and bam a picture of you and him out together comes across my feed with so many comments on how good you look together. That shit sucks especially knowing you were with me maybe 2 nights ago looking just as good with me."

You lowered your eyes now, unable to hold his gaze. An emotion similar to shame washed over you and you hated it. What did you have to be ashamed about?

"Or how it feels to see you smile at him the way you smile at me? Or to sit and wonder what you are doing with him if you say the same things to him you have to me. If you let him touch you the way you let me touch you, if you're kissing on him too or something more? Do you know what it does to me when we talk and suddenly you tell me you have to go and in the back of my mind I know it's because of him? Have you ever thought of these things Y/N? Because that is all I think about. These last 4 months have been..."

Aaron released a hiss of breath as he shook his head for emphasis. Silence stretched again. Throughout his outburst, the feeling never left you and it even brought a tight knot in your throat. You swallowed for the 10th time trying to clear it but failing. Grabbing your glass, you finished the Prosecco that had been abandoned ever since he'd first spoken.

"I get it," you quietly said.

"You get it? After all of that?"

"I don’t know what you want me to say, I mean you--this whole time you--"

"I know," he interrupted.

He shook his head again then looked at you with the coldest eyes he'd ever laid on you. If looks could kill you might have been on life support right now.

A resentful smirk spread his face before he spoke again, "You did say love was messy, that it knows no mercy and only one can win never two."

Aaron scoffed then nodded. "Sometimes it lasts in love but most times it hurts instead. Ha! When you said that to me I found it so odd and cynical of you and I found that slightly cynical part of you endearing especially in this world full of blind optimism. I get it now."

You reached for his hands wanting to touch him...needing to. However, abruptly he cleared his throat loudly and then sat back in his chair somehow teleporting himself oceans away though he was still barely 6 feet from you leaving your hands now the ones in the center of the table without his.

"I wish nothing but the best for you, Y/N. You deserve everything good in this world and that includes happiness. Remember that."

He stood then walked away only to stop after a few steps and come back.

"One more thing. It doesn't have to be just 1 person winning in love, it can be 2."

You saw the pain in his eyes, the disappointment, and felt like he was pleading with you to see the truth in his words. With that, he walked away leaving you sitting there to watch his back get further and further away. As he walked away, you were surprised to feel the urge to run after him, surprised by your desire to make things right. However, once his frame disappeared in the Parisian crowd those feelings disappeared, as did the shame.

You weren't the bad guy here. You had no reason to feel ashamed. You had done all the right things. Digging into your Chanel purse for some cash, you slipped the bills under your empty glass and then walked in the opposite direction.

One of the many things your mother drilled into you and your siblings growing up was life kept going and it never slowed so while you were stopped and paused on one hiccup everyone else had gotten 10 steps ahead of you.

"Buck up buttercup," you said to yourself hearing your mother's voice rather than your own. It was something you were used to by now. You carried her voice everywhere.

The rest of your day went on as it always did, quickly. Work always was your favorite distraction and now was no different. As you sat in the creative meeting that was set up to start off the long stretch of shoots you had scheduled all for a concert you were putting on, your mind battled between focusing and drifting.

When the meeting closed and location scouting began, your group went from place to place scoping out the best places for shots and you made sure your voice was heard to be taken into consideration for the final locations. It was slightly hilarious because you had remained so quiet earlier. You hadn't spoken up to Aaron or even said half the things on your mind.

Thankfully, the hectic chaos of the day made it so you didn't really have any time for yourself to allow your thoughts to wander. You'd always preferred being busy though it made it difficult to have a real life but now you were thankful for it.

Your disappointment carried you through the day and though it wasn’t forefront for you, but during your silent moments, it all came fluttering back. When you scrolled through your phone his name was still the last contact you'd texted and that brought back memories of him.

By the time you got back to your hotel, you were ready for a bottle of wine and a bubble bath filled with every one of your favorite essential oils. When you got safely behind your doors, you wasted no time doing just that. Not even 5 minutes after you sank into the piping hot water did your phone ring with a Facetime call.

Seeing Lewis' name on your screen made a wide smile spread across your face. At least things were okay there.

"Hey you," you said as soon as you tapped the accept button.

Lewis smiled but it didn't reach his eyes like it normally did. Those same eyes looked tired and something else that you couldn't place.

"Hey, gorgeous."

"Are you okay? You look bad."

"Ha. Thanks, love."

"No not like that. You know you are always fine as fine can be, but you look off tonight."

Lewis sighed then moved sending the camera into shaking chaos. When the movement stopped, he was sitting up, back against something that looked plush and metal and showing plenty of tattooed skin.

"Just getting to bed too?"

"Yeah. It's been a long day," Lewis said rubbing the back of his neck, his braids handing around his face.

"Same. Longer than it needed to be."

He nodded as he stared at you as if he had something to say but didn’t know if he should.

"What is it?"

"I didn't expect you to be as great as you are."

You snorted and laughed. "Oh yeah? Expected me to be a bitch on wheels?"

"Funny. Not that just--different. Everyone knows you and there have been so many stories of you that everyone has their own version of you in mind and the way I thought you were made it easy, no not easy, but sensible or bearable for things to be how they have been with you--and him."

Choosing what to focus on right now, you momentarily ignored the nugget of info that sounded awfully close to him admitting he thought you were some brainless tart who was after fun, drinking, and money. Ignoring that for another conversation, your stomach dropped for the 2nd time today and you knew what was coming. It was quite possible there would be no other conversation.

"Uh-huh."

"And now that I am so great and not a nightmare?"

Lewis remained quiet for several moments and you sat there staring at the screen waiting for him to continue.

"And now...now it's not sensible and sure as hell not bearable to think about you and another man."

"I wonder if this is how your harem feels?"

Don’t start the bullshit Y/N. You know it's been months since I had anything to do with any of them"

"It was just a hypothesized assumption. You most likely just voiced what they can't because they don’t want to fall out of favor or be replaced."

"This has nothing to do with them or any of that," Lewis countered.

"Then what does it have to do with? This is coming from left field and I'm feeling pretty blindsided."

"I saw you guys today."

"What?"

"At that cafe together. There are pictures all over Daily Mail of the two of you today. Pictures of the two of you together after we texted, after you told me you were having drinks with a friend."

You closed your eyes then dropped your head back onto the stylish padded rim of the modernly luxurious freestanding tub.

"Wanna talk about blindsided now?"

The dry sarcasm in his voice was evident, "Did you want me to say I was having drinks with Aaron instead?"

Lewis hissed first, then spoke, "Shit I don’t even know. I just know I felt blindsided today and it's not the first time."

"Everyone wants to act like I am this bad guy when you knew from the beginning."

"Wow. This isn't about who is the bad...you know what never mind. He can be cool with this and your antics but--I--I can't do this anymore."

You sighed as a plethora of emotions filled you, annoyance, disappointment, sadness, anger, and hurt but that was just the tip of the iceberg. Rather than allowing each of them to blossom across your features, you steeled your face instead. More of your mother's words filled your mind.

"Don't let them see that they have an effect."

"Ok. I understand,” you said, voice even and hopefully strong.

Lewis stared at you now with a confused expression and eyes so intense it felt as if he were staring into your soul. This man and his intrusive eyes, you thought to yourself.

"You understand?"

"Yep."

He scoffed, shook his head then rolled his eyes. "Of course you do. Good luck to you and him Y/N. You--." He sighed then dropped his eyes before looking back at you. "I wish things were different, I wish I felt differently about you and that your mother's voice wasn't so loud inside your head. I hope you find happiness."

With that, the video ended, and you were left sitting in water that was piping hot a few minutes ago but was now as frigid as Scotland in December. For the second time today you'd been dumped and for the second time today you were tempted to go after another man with hopes of changing his mind, this time by calling Lewis back, but again--you didn't.

You sat there quietly for several minutes letting it all sink in. Then a hysterical laugh started, it was a laugh that came from the depths of you, making your entire being shake as it filled the room. The thought that brought it on lingered in your head making you laugh longer and longer. Before you knew it, your cheeks were wet with tears, and you were winded.

"Everyone wants me to be happy because I deserve it, but no one wants to stick around and actually make me happy. How ironic. How absolutely... ridiculous."

It was all too loud right now, too loud, and too much. Slipping under the water, you allowed the world to slip away and your brain to quiet, but it didn't completely. One looping thought remained.

"Were you in fact, the bad guy?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[whencyclopedia]

The Mórrigan

The Mórrigan (also Morrighan, Môr-Riogain or Morrigu), usually referred to with the definite article, was a great warrior-queen goddess in Irish-Celtic mythology. She was most associated with inciting war, then stirring up the fury and frenzy of battle, and finally, as the bringer of death. The goddess was able to take any form of living creature she wished and she helped bring about the demise of the hero-warrior Cú Chulainn after he spurned her many attempts to seduce him as different animals. Her coupling with the Dagda, another major warrior-god, was an important part of the Samhain festival which the Celts celebrated to mark the beginning of a new year.

Names & Associations

The name Mórrigan, which may have several variations of spelling, means 'great queen', 'phantom queen', 'queen of nightmares' or, more literally, 'mare-queen'. She may have evolved from the ancient territorial goddess Mór Muman who was associated with the sun and kingship in southern Ireland. She is a war-goddess, and she is particularly associated with the fury of war, hence her 'demonic' nature and another name by which she is sometimes known, the 'queen of demons'.

Mórrigan is closely associated with two other war-goddesses: Badb and Macha (or alternatively Nemain). This trio is collectively known as the Mórrigna. Some scholars suggest that the trio of goddesses are simply different aspects of the Mórrigan as the triple aspect of gods is a common theme in Celtic religion which emphasises the potency of deities. Appropriately, then, all three goddesses are the daughters of Ernmas, the great mother deity, and their father is, in some tales, the sorcerer god Cailitin. The Mórrigan has one son, the evil figure Mechi, who has three hearts, each of which contains a serpent. Mechi's father is not named.

The Mórrigan has a terrible appearance, and it is this and her aggression which have a strong psychological effect on whoever she chooses during a battle. At the same time, the goddess can be sexually attractive. Consequently, the Mórrigan is both a symbol of destruction and fertility. The goddess has certain powers such as being able to predict the future and to cast spells. Even more impressive, she can change her form at will and become a beautiful young girl, the wind, or any animal, fish or bird. The creature she is most connected with is the crow or raven, which the Celts associated with war, death, and inciting conflict. This aspect of the Mórrigan may well be the origin of the banshee, a female fairy that figures in later Irish and Scottish mythology. The banshee foretells death in a household by letting out a loud plaintive wail and, though she is rarely seen in physical form, when she is, she is an old woman with long white hair.

Another figure from Celtic folklore (in Ireland, Scotland, and Brittany) associated with the Mórrigan is the 'washer at the ford'. This figure, sometimes envisaged as a young and weeping female, at others, an old and ugly woman, was considered an omen of death as she would make certain clothes being washed in a river ford the colour of blood. Whoever's clothes were thus marked was thought to be in imminent danger.

When dwelling in this world, the Mórrigan's home was thought to be a cave in County Roscommon in northwest Ireland. This cave was known as the cave of Cruachan and the 'Hell's Gate of Ireland' since it was believed to be a passage to the Otherworld. In one myth, the Mórrigan lures the woman Odras to her cave by having one of her cows stray inside. The goddess then changes the hapless mortal into a pool of water. Cruachan was regarded as the seat of ancient kings of Connacht and has been identified as part of the group of archaeological sites at Rathcroghan in County Roscommon.

Continue reading...

[bitbybitwrites]

7. We're going to Fire Island. It's like gay Disney World. (Fire Island, 2022)

Glee (but open to RWRB if you’re more inspired that way!)

My apologies for the delay! Took me a bit to finish this one - because it kind of exploded into something longer than a ficlet!

Thanks again to @tailsbeth-writes for all the Ficlet Friday posts!

It can also be read on A03 here.

Enjoy!

****

Fire Island Follies

“I don’t know if this is a good idea, San.”

Santana looked over at her friend and smirked.  “Lookin’ a little green about the gills, Hobbit.  You ok?”

Blaine took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he clutched his duffle bag close to his chest.  The ferry was going through choppy water, and his stomach wasn't faring well at all.  No one could blame him; Blaine was from central Ohio and hadn't had much experience being on the open ocean.

He opened his mouth to respond, but unfortunately, at that moment, the boat hit a particularly large wave.   The sea vessel bounced so much that Blaine snapped his mouth shut quickly, clapping one hand over it.  Santana swore he looked even paler than he had a minute ago.

“Don’t you dare hurl on me, Anderson.  I will kill you if you ruin these shoes.”

A young couple and their kid moved away from where Blaine and Santana were sitting, looking at the seasick young man warily.  Blaine gave them a weak smile and wave as he peered down at Santana's open-toe espadrilles.

“Fancy footwear for the beach, don’t you think?”

Santana snorted as she wiggled her Burberry-clad foot at Blaine.  "I gots to look good for my sweetie.” She leaned over and poked him in the side.  He squawked and batted her hand away with a pout.  “Can you just give me a smile for once and not look like I’m dragging you to your death.” Santana pleaded.

The boat hit another wave and bounced up and down again.  “I feel like death,” Blaine said through gritted teeth. "Just kill me now."

“Oh, perk up, sunshine.  We're going to Fire Island.  It's like gay Disney World."

****

Blaine was grateful once the ferry finally docked, a vomit-free voyage, thankfully.   He gingerly followed Santana out onto the dock, breathing deeply through his nose as he willed for the ground to stop swaying.  They both wove in and out of the throng of visitors to the island, searching for. . .

“Tana!” an excited voice squealed.

Blaine stepped aside just in time as a blur of blond hair and bright color whizzed by him, only to launch themselves into Santana's arms.  Santana laughed as she caught a young woman in her embrace, swinging her about and then carefully placing her on the ground, kissing her gently.

“Hi, cariño," Santana said softly.  "Miss me?"

The other woman giggled and nodded.  "So much."  She turned and regarded Blaine with a questioning look.  "I'm sorry, and you are?"

“Um, Blaine.  Blaine Anderson.  I, um . . . I’m Santana’s friend.”

The blond grinned and leaned over to deposit a peek on Blaine's cheek.  She placed a small, brightly rainbow-colored string of beads around his neck.  "Oh yeah, Tana said you might come.  I'm glad you did!  Happy Pride!"

*****

Blaine sighed as he sat on the deck, looking out towards the sunrise.  It was gorgeous view, and Blaine would have thanked anyone who would listen for this brief respite of peace and quiet.  There was a whirlwind of activity once Brittany led them back to the house where they would all be staying for the week.  He had wandered outside earlier for with a book ( and thankfully his noise-canceling headphones) while Santana and Brittany celebrated their reunion very thoroughly and . . . loudly.

"You know, it's hard making out over Skype.  You really can't scissor a webcam." Brittany had confided to Blaine in a stage whisper earlier.  "I'm so glad to see her again since I'm working out here all summer."

Blaine had just smiled and nodded.  He was slowly getting used to Brittany’s. . . rather quirky personality.  She was one of the main reasons Santana dragged him onto this trip.  Brittany’s latest job was as a waitress and sometimes backup singer and dancer for the Fire Island Follies.

****

“You are coming with me, short stuff.  I will not accept no for an answer.” Santana had threatened a week before.  “My lady is out there. I miss her, and I think you would have a really good time.  Come on.  You're hot.  I'm hot.  The island will be overflowing with other gorgeous gays you could hook up with.  Live a little.  You might dress like a grandpa sometimes, but it doesn't mean you have to live like one."

****

The door to the rental home slammed shut as Brittany skipped outside, adorned in a rainbow tulle skirt and bikini top.  An intricate collar of rainbow beads lay aginst her neck while her body shone with glitter even in the setting sunlight.  A tiara of multicolored rhinestones peeked out from the top of her head as well.  "Are you ready?" she asked excitedly.  "Tana will lock up and meet us there.  She told me to bring you on ahead early.   We could use your help to set up if you're for it."

Blaine looked down at himself.  “Are you sure this is ok?”  He nervously looked at the sparkly black mesh tank top and teeny green shorts that Santana had thrown at him when he stepped out of the shower.

Brittany’s blond head cocked to the side, and she considered for a moment.  "As long as you're comfortable.  I think you're fine." She said with a grin.  "At least it's not the underwear party.  That's only for the guys, and I have a feeling you wouldn't be ok just running around in a jockstrap or speedo all night."

She dug into a pouch at her waist and fished out a small tube of rainbow body glitter.  Squeezing some on her fingertips, she rubbed it on Blaine’s cheekbones, smiling at the finished look.

“Perfect.”

*****

Cheerios was definitely not what Blaine had expected, either. 

First, the nightclub/cabaret space was run by a former drill sergeant wearing a black tracksuit (with appropriately rainbow stripes up and down the arms) named Miss Sue.  Secondly, it was probably the most rainbow-themed place he'd ever been to.  Colored arches adorned the walls, the floors, the cushions on the bar stools and seats, and even the cocktail napkins.  The staff wore tight, tiny rainbow-themed uniforms, some looking like cheerleaders or football players.  (Well, that could explain the name of the place)  As far as he could see, there were lots of skin, crop tops, booty shorts, and so much body glitter.

And the doors hadn’t opened yet for the public.

The aforementioned drill sergeant was holding court by the DJ station at the back of the club when Brittany and Blaine entered.  She brandished a clipboard and barked out loud via a megaphone she brandished in her other hand: "Porcelain, you're up next!  White Chocolate, you shake your booty after.  Then Starchild, we'll run through yours again if you want."

A chorus of “Yes, Miss Sue.” from across the bar soon followed.

Brittany squealed as she dragged Blaine over to the bar.  “Oooh, we get to see a couple of the new numbers before we open the doors." She shoved Blaine onto a cushy, multi-colored stool before she took off backstage.  "Stay here.  Gotta go see if anyone needs help backstage.”

Before Blaine could protest, she was gone.

Fiddling with the hem of his tank top, Blaine looked around nervously. He couldn't help but feel like he was intruding.

“Porcelain, Starchild, White Chocolate . . who are they?” he wondered aloud.

"Well, me, for one."

Blaine swiveled around on his bar stool to find a ridiculously good-looking guy in the tiniest gold booty shorts that he had ever seen staring back at him.

“I . . .I'm sorry . . . wh. . .what?" 

The bartender tossed a rainbow-colored bar towel over his shoulder and plunked down a glass of water in front of Blaine.  “White Chocolate.  That’s me, I’m saying.”

“That’s . . a, uh. .  . .a nice name . .”

The blond grinned, the body glitter shining very noticeably off his abs. 

Blaine seriously tried not to stare.

He did.

"Stage name," the bartender confided to Blaine.  "Used to have a partner called Dark Chocolate I worked with, but he went off and got him a boyfriend who didn't like him writhing on stage with little ole me.  Jake came up with the names.  He said we were both smooth and sweet, and it kind of worked cause he was, well, you know, African American and I'm . . ." he gestured again toward his glitter-encrusted abs.

Blaine swallowed and really didn’t stare.

Really.

He really, really didn’t.

“That’s . . . interesting . . .”

The glittering golden god laughed as he leaned over the bar. "I'm Sam," he said, extending a handout. I saw you came in with Brit. Are you a friend of hers?"

Blaine nodded, grabbed the water, and took a large gulp.  "Well, more like friends with her girlfriend, Santana."

Sam grinned.  "Aww, that's great.  I haven't seen Santana in a while.  She coming later?”

As Blaine nodded, the lights in the room suddenly dimmed, and a low, sultry bass line began to be piped in through the speakers of the club.  All of the workers stopped what they were doing to focus their attention on the main stage.  A spotlight held tight on a solitary figure who faced away from the audience.  The person held their hand up, and as they snapped their fingers along with the music, the spotlight pulled back slightly, revealing a luxurious black velvet robe. 

Blaine’s jaw dropped as the person began to sing: sultry and beckoning, their hands skimming their hips, which swayed hypnotically along with the music.

*****

Never know how much I love you

Never know how much I care

When you put your arms around me

I get a fever that's so hard to bear

You give me fever. . .

The performer turned his head, revealing a strikingly handsome face and piercing blue eyes.  The man smirked as he noticed Blaine, watching awestruck.  The singer rolled his shoulder, allowing the velvet robe to bare one beautiful shoulder as he winked saucily at Blaine.

Sam leaned over the bar, whispering smugly.  "And that, my good sir, is Porcelain, one of our other headliners."

“He’s beautiful, “ Blaine murmured softly as he continued to watch the other man own the stage, dropping the robe on a particular beat of the song to reveal some tiny black leather shorts and a delicate body harness of crisscrossing silver chains attached to a heaver silver chain collar.  With every shoulder roll and hip gyration, Blaine could see those chains softly caress the man’s toned abdomen.  The leather shorts made it very apparent that Porcelain was not lacking at all in . . . endowments.

Blaine had never been so jealous of an outfit before in his life.  He was absolutely entranced by this siren before him.

The devastatingly gorgeous dancer continued to sing:

*****

Captain Smith and Pocahontas

Had a very mad affair

When her daddy tried to kill him

She said, "Daddy, oh, don't you dare."

He gives me fever

With his kisses, fever when he holds me tight

Fever!  I'm his missus, daddy, won't you treat him right?

"Would you like to meet him?" Sam asked quietly.  "I'm sure Brit or I can introduce you if you want."

Blaine was now at a loss for words, just nodding mutely while his heart raced.  Porcelain had danced his way to a stripper pole to one side of the stage, spinning around it a few times before leaning backward and arching his back as he eased off his leather shorts, not missing a beat while he did so.

And Porcelain was looking and singing directly to Blaine as those shorts fell away.

*****

Now you've listened to my story

Here's the point that I have made

Boys were born to give you fever

Be it Fahrenheit or Centigrade

That’s it. 

Blaine was now officially dead.

Porcelain had a rhinestone-encrusted thong underneath those tiny shorts. As Blaine watched, the dancer kept singing while trailing his own fingers over his body, grazing his nipples, floating over his arms, down the arch of his neck.

*****

They give you fever

When you kiss them, fever if you live and learn

Fever!  'Til you sizzle

What a lovely way to burn . . .

Without warning, the audio track Porcelain was performing began to moan and speed up, rewinding and fast-forwarding erratically, breaking the hypnotic spell of the performance. Porcelain stopped all movements and stared out towards the DJ booth in confusion as the lights abruptly came up in the club.

“What the fuck?” Miss Sue bellowed.  “Someone get Zizes on the phone.  I don't care where she is or what she's doing.  Of all the goddamn times she decided to go on vacation, of course, it had to be today.  We need this shit fixed now.  We open in a few hours.”

Porcelain sighed as he retrieved his discarded clothing, slipping the velvet robe on and quickly disappearing backstage. 

Miss Sue stalked towards the bar, slamming her clipboard and megaphone on its surface.  She gripped the edge of the rainbow-patterned counter tightly,  so much so that Blaine could see her knuckles whiten even from his position a few stools farther down.

Without a beat, Sam quickly reached into a fridge under the bar and pulled out a large, ominous-looking black Stanley mug, passing it over to the club owner without a word.  Miss Sue took a giant slug of what was inside, a ferocious scowl darkening her features.

Many of the employees skittered away quickly to avoid her impending blow-up.

“Miss Sue,” Sam tentatively said as he cleared his throat.  “I, uh, I hate to be the bearer of more bad news . . .”

"What. Is. It. Now. . . " the cabaret owner growled.

"Sebastian won't be able to make it in tonight or for the rest of the week, actually," Sam quickly informed her.

“Where the hell is Sporty Spice gone to this time?  I need him and his goddamn lacrosse stick to work during the intermission.”

"Seb's found another Sugar Daddy, and he's taking full advantage," another voice chimed in.

Blaine spun around in his stool, only to find himself face to face with Porcelain.  Now out of his stage costume, the man was wearing sinfully low-rise, skin-tight jeans as well as a soft, light blue hoodie that was unzipped to reveal he was shirtless underneath.  Porcelain was sporting a set of toned abdominal muscles that Blaine wanted to reach out and touch.

"Last I heard, he was bragging last night that his new man was taking him to some mansion in the Hamptons for a week of fucking and all manner of excessive indulgence.  Clothing free."  Porcelain rolled his eyes as he accepted a glass of ice water from Sam.  "I'm not surprised he bailed on us today."

Sam frowned.  “But how the hell are we going to put on the follies tonight if we’re having technical difficulties?” he asked.  “I can do body rolls all night if you need me to, but it’s going to be odd with no music playing in the background.”

“Do we cancel?” Kurt asked Sue.

“We have never canceled a performance of the Fire Island Follies," Miss Sue shouted.  “It is not going to happen.  Not on my watch.”

Blaine swallowed.  He couldn’t believe he was going to do this.

“I . . . I could help.”

Miss Sue turned her sharp gaze at Blaine.  “Who the hell are you?” she barked.  "How the hell did you get in here anyway?"

"Blaine.  Blaine Anderson."  Blaine held out his hand to Miss Sue, who stared at it like the abhorrent item she felt it was.  He dropped it quickly and tried to smile reassuringly.

He wasn’t sure if it was working.

“He’s a friend of Brittany’s . .  .and Santana's." Sam piped up.

Sue sniffed, still not entirely impressed.

"And how can you help?" Porcelain asked as he trained a critical eye on Blaine, obviously just as skeptical of the newcomer as Miss Sue was.

“Can you play music?  Sing?” Miss Sue demanded.

“Y . .yes," Blaine stuttered.  "I can do both, actually, piano and guitar. It's what I do in Manhattan, actually.  It's my . . .my day job. Mostly gigs at The Duplex and Don't Tell Mama's."

“How long are you on the island for?” Sue continued her interrogation.

“Just the week,” Blaine reassured the club owner.

Sue stared at Blaine for a while; he couldn't say how long.  But the uncomfortable silence that stretched out while he found himself looked up and down seemed to go on forever.

“Up.” she barked at him finally.

Blaine slid off his stool while throwing both Sam and Porcelain confused glances.

“Turn.” she then ordered.

He did and then waited through another long silent patch from Sue as she made her deliberation:

“Hot Pocket,” Miss Sue ordered as she pinned him in place with a stare that quite honestly gave Blaine the chills.  “You’ll do.  You are to get your ass on stage and see what you can do with what instruments we have on hand.  Porcelain, work on your number first.  I want you to Fabulous Baker Boys the shit out of the song, you understand?”

"Yes, Miss Sue," the dancer nodded. He turned to Blaine, motioned towards the stage, and swiftly turned on his heel to walk towards it.

Blaine scrambled quickly after him.

“I’m Kurt, by the way," Porcelain informed Blaine softly as they walked out of earshot of the owner.  “You better be damn good, Blaine.  Or Sue will make you regret ever stepping foot in this club.”

“I am,” Blaine said, his heart racing.  “I am good.”

Kurt stopped in his tracks, turning quickly to face Blaine, who stopped moving as well.  A few quick steps and Kurt was mere inches away, his blue eyes darkening and staring at Blaine’s lips intensely.

“I like that.  Boys who are good for me.  Will you be good for me, Blaine?”

Blaine nodded, his breath caught in his chest.  It was dizzying being this close to Kurt now.  Blaine stared at the performer’s lips as well as they leaned in closer.

“I’ll see you backstage,” Kurt whispered with a smirk.  He turned quickly and sauntered up the steps of the main stage and through the curtain.

Blaine did not stare at Kurt’s ass as he left.

Oh, who the hell was Blaine kidding. 

He most certainly did.

****

NOTES:

I have a feeling that the actual Fire Island Follies is a men's only show . . but here in this fic, I wanted to include something for the ladies too - so Brittany's a performer as well.

Oh, and here in this fic, I kind of picture Sebastian doing a little lacrosse themed striptease act during their intermission of the show. Hence the "Sporty Spice" nickname. 😂

[goldribboncottage]

Hazel Callahan Fanfiction

I haven’t posted on tumblr dot com in probably three years. I don’t know how it works.

This is my untitled fanfiction about being Hazel’s sisters’ nanny and falling in love. I haven’t written a fanfiction since I was in middle school. Enjoy.

Untitled Pookie Story 

It wasn’t supposed to end up this way. You weren’t supposed to fall for the bosses daughter. You barely knew the boss had a daughter. Mrs. Webster mentioned in passing that her oldest was off at college, and didn’t tend to come home on breaks. 

“I have another child at Amherst, but that won’t be relevant to this position. It’s strictly caring for the twins! She never comes home anyway. A lot of people ask, what was I thinking having kids 20 years apart, but it’s truly a blessing to start over. No need to relive mistakes as a first time mom! I’m so excited to have someone so kind caring for my babies.” Mrs. Webster almost hired you on the spot. 

You wondered about the elder Webster. She probably wasn’t called that, being from her first marriage. Whatever, it’s not like you would be seeing her at the new job. There were no pictures of her in the house, but you knew her old bedroom was across from yours, and you took over her old bathroom. Being a live in nanny, your priorities were the 4 month old fraternal twins, Isla and Sage. 

Two months in and you had the twins on a great schedule, and hit your stride. Making friends wasn’t always easy for you growing up but you fell into an easy friendship with a group a little younger than you. PJ and Brittany were nice people and you had a lot in common. Brittany was a cosmetologist and cheered for a local sports team, and PJ had her own podcast. They had known each other since high school but quickly accepted you as one of them. You had hung out with them a lot since moving, and gotten to know their wider group of friends. 

The best part about being an infant nanny was the nap times. Mrs. W didn’t expect you to do any chores or extra work, so you’d usually hang out in your room or the common areas. Today being the first warm day in a while, you took the baby monitor outside and read on the back porch. 

Nearly falling asleep, the porch swing was your favorite part of the house. Sure, Mrs. Webster had a huge house from her first divorce settlement, and plenty of money of her own, but this little corner felt like your place. Big and comfy, naps outside always came unexpectedly. 

*Movement at Front Door*

Waking you, the Ring notification flashed on your screen, and you figured it was Mrs. W coming home early. She usually texted, but maybe she forgot. Typical for a woman in her 50s who married a 28 year old surfer and divorced him before their children were born.

Re-entering the house to greet Mrs. Webster, you were met with a surprise. A very short, shaggy haired, blue eyed surprise. 

Hazel POV

I’m not sure why I decided today was the day to come home for the first time in five months. After helping my mom with her two little mistakes for three weeks I decided it hurt too much to be around them. Just more reminders my mom chose a new start over me. 

I didn’t bother telling my mom I’d be coming home, she’d prefer I stay in Massachusetts. But it was spring break, and I missed my friends. PJ mentioned my mom hiring help, but I didn’t care about what she did. She was always looking for ways out of being a parent. 

There was a foreign car in the driveway, with a Callahan Motors license plate cover. Must be a guilt present from my dad. Another SUV for my mom to drive around the little brats in. 

I had planned on running home for a quick shower and change of clothes before meeting up with PJ, Josie, Isabel, and Brittany. 

I hadn’t planned on entering my home and finding it filled with stuff I didn’t recognize. Shoes that were way too young for my mom filled the rack in the closet, another with jackets I didn’t recognize. Huh. Must be another crisis, this time in fashion. I made my way to the kitchen at the back of the house when something stops me. Or rather, someone. 

Reader POV

“Who the fuck are you?” The tiny masculine girl scoffs, rounding the kitchen island. 

“Who am I? WHO ARE YOU? Why are you here? Get out! If you don’t leave I’m calling the cops!” unfazed, she grabs a drink out of the fridge. “I’m serious. I am responsible for this house and all of the people in it right now and I am not afraid of you. Get out before I make you get out”

Sensing your change in tone, she puts her hands up in defense “Hey, I live here, I could say the same thing to you.” She sips her drink and doesn’t break eye contact. 

“You don’t live here! I’ve NEVER seen you before! I live her with Mrs. Webster and her daughters. I’m calling the cops. You can get out now or wait until they-“

“Whoawhoawhoa, pleasedontdothat. I’m Hazel. Callahan. My mom didn’t tell you about me? Are you like the maid or something? I’m just visiting for spring break. I live here. Seriously.” You stared at her, as if telling her to go on. “If I didn’t live here I wouldn’t know there’s a chip in the upstairs bath tile I never told my mom about, or that the fourth step squeaks on the stairs, and I have two baby sisters! I know their names! Isla and Sage! They’re like, little! I don’t know how old they are! But they’re still, like, babies, I think!” 

You put down your phone. So this is Mrs. Websters oldest daughter. Hazel Callahan. You wondered why you had never heard her name until now. 

“They’re 6 months old. Next week will be 7.” You explain. “And I’m not the maid, I’m the nanny. I live in the room across from yours. I told your mom about the chip in the tile. I thought I did it when I slipped coming out of the shower.” She laughs. You can see it now. Sage has the same deep blue eyes, and Isla’s hair is just a shorter, thinner version of Hazel’s. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“It’s nice to meet you too. Sorry about the mix up. Where are those little rugrats? I haven’t seen them since they came out of the womb.” She puts back her drink and starts to make her way to the nursery. 

“Wait! Just look at the monitor. They aren’t supposed to wake up until 3.” You hand her the monitor, and she grabs it slowly. Your hands brush, and you explain to her the differences in the girls. 

“Isla has the dark hair, like you and your mom. Sage has lighter hair but darker eyes. Blue. Like yours. Dark blue. And big.” Hazel glances at you with her big blue eyes and meets your e/c ones. “They’re so adorable. When she stares at me I swear my heart melts. I’m such a sucker.” You shake your head and giggle, thinking of the tender moments you’ve shared with the babies. Hazel looks up at you from under her eyelashes. 

“Adorable?”

“I mean the babies.” You step away slightly. “Speaking of, I have to get their food ready. Today they’re trying peas for the first time. We are all very excited.” 

“Thrilling. Well, I’m going to go upstairs. I have to be somewhere. It was nice meeting you.” She tips her head in salute and walks off. 

“You too, Hazel.” You whisper. 

She comes down as you are wiping mushy peas off the girls and their high chairs. 

Wow. You’d never had a certain type, but Hazel was definitely it. She looked good in an oversized t shirt, vest, and nike sneakers. “Hey.” She rocks on her heels, almost looking scared to approach you.

“Oh! H-Hi. We just finished. This is about as clean as they will get if you want to come say hi. They don’t bite! They really can’t, yet, they’ve only got two teeth each. Isla did bite me once but that was only because she thought I was food!” Sensing you were over talking you pick up Sage and offer her the Hazel. The younger girl backs away, a concerned look on her face. “Oh, sorry! I forget not everyone is a baby person. You don’t have to hold her. She’s really good at sitting now! You can play in the living room while I get Isla cleaned up.”

“I’m good, but thank you. I have to meet my friends. I haven’t been back in a while. I don’t know when I’ll be home tonight but I told my mom I’m in town. See ya” She exits quickly. 

Hazel POV

I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I don’t know why I can’t handle being around my sisters. I mean, I haven’t met a lot of babies, but I’ve never been scared of them. Maybe it isn’t them I’m scared of. I’ve stayed away from Rockbridge for a reason. Let my mom have her perfect little life without me in it. I don’t need her anyway. But that nanny is something. Hiring someone to live at your house? At MY house? God. Who knows what’s next on the divorcee-crisis list. 

I pulled into the parking lot of Bottoms, the greatest and only queer bar in town. I could see my friends at their usual table inside. At least one thing was good about coming home. 

“Hazel!” Isabel rushes to hug me, and I can tell a line is forming behind her. She kisses my cheek and tells me how much I’ve been missed. “You need to come back more often!” 

“Yeah, it’s not like Amherst has anything to offer but snotty WASPS and fake deep classes.” PJ chimes in. 

“Hey, Hazel’s doing great there! And don’t hate on Massachusetts, Emerson was your top choice.” Josie adds, defending me and our college towns. 

I’m glad to see nothings changed. 

After a couple of drinks, I decide to bring up the incident earlier today with my mom’s new nanny. 

“Oh my god! Y/N? We love her! Why didn’t you invite her out? I can’t believe she thought you were an intruder. That’s so funny. I’m texting her right now.” Brittany whips out her phone and clicks away. 

“Wait you guys know her? Like have her number and text her know her? How come no one’s told me about this!” 

Josie answers first “Well to be fair when we met her we didn’t know she was their nanny, and you don’t really like to talk about your family so we didn’t bring it up.”

“Yeah Hazel we always want to respect you, especially since everything happened with your dad and then Jeff. Your mom has put you through a lot in the past” Isabel takes my hand and comforts me. 

“Yeah that AND the fact that Y/N and I are totally gonna bone. She’s a lesbian, as we all are-“

“I’m still not gay, PJ.” Brittany interrupts. “And Isabel is Bi.”

“Anyway, AS I was saying, there’s totally tension there. It’s only a matter of time before we’re scissoring and run away together.” 

“PJ, you barely talk to her, and she’s the only one who is as much of a bitch as you.” Brittany quips. “You get humbled every time Y/N opens her mouth.”

“I like a challenge, baby.” PJ blows Brittany a kiss and swigs her drink. 

“Anyway it’s not like we only like Y/N because she works for your mom. She’s super nice. She’s 26 and has more life experience than all of us combined. It’s like she’s lived 30 lives. She’s so cool.” Josie says, changing the direction of conversation. 

“Yeah, okay” I say “I’ll try to get to know her better while I’m here.” I think back to earlier in the day. Y/N looked so happy talking about Isla and Sage. I can’t be second place in another person’s life. 

Y/N POV

Brittany has been texting you about Hazel since yesterday, trying to get you to come out with them tonight. So when she calls you on Saturday morning you immediately pick up. 

“PLEASE babe it’ll be so much fun. You literally live in the same house as her, you can carpool! And Hazel doesn’t drink she can be your DD. I know you want to come out, just do it! You deserve a night out, pleeaaase” 

“Okay okay fine. But I’m coming for you. It’s been like a week since we saw each other and I’m literally dying because of it.” 

“YES oh my god - PJ SHES COMING!” You hear her yell off into their shared apartment. 

“Tell her to wear something tight and short!” PJs voice is distant but clear.

“PJ says-“

“Yeah I heard. God she’s ridiculous. I’ll see you tonight. I don’t know if Hazel’s up yet but I’ll ask her to drive me”

[phoenixwritessmut]

intimacy headcanons about bottoms (2023)

okay, so i have a lot of feelings about this movie right here. i watched it in theatres with one of my bestfriends, and we couldn't stop talking about it afterwards - more specifically, headcanons we had about the fight club OG members and their reactions to sexual intimacy.

hear me out, okay.

PJ (we start with the queen who started it all): - talks a big game but actually wildly unknowledgeable about everything to do with the female orgasm. - is a bottom. it's in the title, it's in her genes, it's in her jeans. - has a controversy kink (cute cheerleaders, chicks that can make shit explode) and will vehemently deny that she likes the thrill of crushing out on someone she ABSOLUTELY has no business crushing on. - learned halfway through the movie that she's into pain!

Josie (the brains of the operation... sometimes): - pimpy as fuck. she thought she'd be shy and nervous, but when she gets going she's three steps from being the hugh hefner of lesbians. - she's a top, but a service top who will let her girl do the 'topping' if she wants to (and by girl, i mean Isabel). - secret collection of toys "just in case" she needs the help with her stamina (girl just recovered from a broken arm)... spoiler alert, they use absolutely none of them and still run for like four to six rounds. - too embarrassed to admit she used to watch videos to "take notes".

Hazel (my baby, she is everything to me): - is baby girl, but is also daddy depending on her mood (and what PJ is into at the time) but is precious none the less. - refuses to turn the lights off because she likes to watch you both during and after the throes of passion. - lowkey but also kind of highkey enjoys public displays of affection after the kiss that started the straight up murder of an entire football team of teenage boys (also enjoys shoving it in Tim's face that she's got a girlfriend, and he's got... Jeff!). - ridiculously good at what she does but doesn't brag... instead PJ brags to everyone for her, and she ends up with a reputation.

Isabel (shiny, shiny, shiny, shiny): - first time she slept with Josie, she lost all hope that a man would ever know how to satisfy her - or another woman for that matter. - seems like she would be a pillow princess but is actually extremely into giving, and fights with Josie all the time over "topping". - gets turned on watching Josie break people's noses (it's happened a few times, all to the same effect) and isn't ashamed to admit it. - went to Hazel for tips on how to do things, before word even got out that Hazel was a pro... Isabel just had the feeling that Hazel knew.

Brittany (token straight girl... literally the token straight girl): - since turning down PJ, has kissed more girls than the entire club combined (it doesn't help that half of them are all into each other). - wavers on the border of being bi-curious, but just didn't know how to turn down PJ gently, also just not ready to fully come out yet. - definitely fantasizes about women while she's with her boyfriend though. he knows and doesn't really mind about that. - stands by Hazel deserves better than PJ, and if she were just five percent more into women, she'd steal poor Hazel away in a heartbeat.

and to a lesser degree, we had some headcanons about everyone else...

Stella-Rebecca (the regina george, only nicer): - looks like a pillow princess, absolutely is a pillow princess. - into some crazy ass shit; things that the rest of the girls won't even search online for until they're at least twenty-five, married, and bored in their current intimacy lives.

Sylvie (let's crowdfund to get this girl some help): - looks like she'd be in charge, is also a pillow princess, but is completely unashamed to admit that she prefers receiving. - has been hooking up with Annie since the second meeting of fight club. only Hazel knows, but she isn't a snitch.

Annie (you fool nobody, you a freak my dear): - has been hooking up with Sylvia since the second meeting of fight club, when she very concerned about the girl's homelife asked her out for dinner to "talk" and then they ended up spending the entire night together, before they kissed and fooled around a little bit, and Annie told herself for the longest time she was only doing this to make Sylvie happy because the girl is wildly unhappy, only to realize that she's the unhappy one and Sylvie makes her happy. - doesn't know that Hazel knows about them. she aint a snitch.

and for extra bonus points... we had lots of feelings about this.

Jeff (i'm saying he counts, so there): - has never found THE spot, ever. - had to practice with Tim on how to take a bra off because he kept getting confused by all of the buckles and "why is there so many straps? why do they even need these things? can't i rip it? what if i just buy them a new bra after? okay fine." - genuinely does not realize that Mrs. Callahan's daughter Hazel goes to his school and knows his girlfriend, until he is confronted by them. - falls asleep thirty-six seconds after he finishes like a lazy ass.

[joesalw]

Honestly I wish Joe would speak out against Taylor now, like he’s never said one unkind word against her, he’s left her alone and let her and her little friends shit talk him again and again and she’s using her huge platform and her Swifties who cling onto her every word to basically I’m going to say it, abuse Joe.

Like Taylor did you forgot that you went to London to hide out with Joe and others when everyone was tearing down your reputation? Did you forget about the multiple songs you made about him, staring how amazing he was to you (one’s that we’re not written by Joe)? Did you forget that two years of your relationship that you were locked in a house that there was a global pandemic? Are you saying that you didn’t give a shit if people lived or died due to your negligence, because you didn’t want to be stuck in that house to protect others due to Covid? That it was Joe that actually cared about others, and you’re admitting how much of a self centered person you actually are? And if you didn’t want to be stuck in the house all the time because Joe is obviously an extreme introvert who doesn’t like going out, again why didn’t you just break it off with him? You were a multimillionaire with plenty of friends, resources, status, and privilege to get away from that situation while other women have no choice but to stay with their abusers due to unfortunate circumstances.

Like I’ve never been more livid in my life, she uses terms so loosely and basically takes serious issues like Sexual assault, misogyny, abuse, and discrimination and centers herself in all of them. She says she wants to speak out on all these important issues without taking time to acknowledge how she herself contributes to these issues. (Working with r*pist, being seen so to an SA’er and SA apologist, being silent when her Swifties attack WOC or other women in her name, writing a song for someone’s book to movie adaptation who is wanted in another country for literal murder, and not speaking about about any issues that she claims that she believes in). And what boils my blood the most is the fact that there are real life victims of this sort of abuse out here, victims of abuse whose spouses actually due this to them and now a celebrity is using it to trash on her ex she seems to have a vendetta against. Hell she’s even daring to do this amongst Brittany Spears releasing her book where her family literally stripped away every bit of autonomy that she ever had, but sure Taylor use something so serious to finally burry your ex because you know that they’ll never not believe you even though there’s evidence against the contrary and I hope Joe doesn’t harm himself because of this, I hope that your words don’t put him in a position where he’s in danger because you don’t grasp the impact of them, and I hope your white woman tears about serious issues will come back to bite you in the ass someday, because any shred of respect I have for you (what little was left of it) is gone.

i don’t even have any words left to say

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hiiii cal 💕💕💕💕

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼

time likes pulling my teeth x 12

Also can you link me to the snippets/a summary of the time loop fic? I can’t seem to find them

-❤️🪐

Hi Saturn!

So when you asked this, there were no snippets of the time loop fic yet - still no summary - but here are some snippets.

36 for 🔼:

---

He’s sitting at the kitchen table with a leg propped up on another chair. Eddie sits beside him. 

“I remember that. After Afghanistan.” 

Buck raises his eyebrows. Eddie doesn’t really talk about what happened over there. 

“Uh, you were hurt?” Buck asks carefully.

“Shot,” Eddie nods. “Three times.”

What the fuck?

“Oh,” Buck exhales, mind snapping away from his burger. “I didn’t know that.”

“How would you?” Eddie shrugs.

“Right.”

“I just remember physio feeling like… Like the physical manifestation of all the other shit, you know?”

Buck nods. That’s an apt description. 

“Eddie, I have to tell you something about physio,” Buck blurts. 

He can’t keep it in any longer. Not when Eddie is being vulnerable and honest and so damn kind. 

“Okay?” Eddie frowns. “Go for it.”

Buck takes a deep breath.

“Shannon and I go to the same physiotherapy practice.”

There. There it is. 

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Okay? I mean, that makes sense. The practice is recommended through our insurance.” 

Right. That’s right. 

“We see different people, but our appointments seem to be around the same times.”

---

36 for ➰:

---

They go on a guided kayaking tour of the estuary. Apparently it’s a great way to get up close and personal with the wildlife. Plus, it’s more accessible for Chris than walking all over the wetland trails. Their guide, a young, vibrant woman named Brittany who seems to know every fact about the estuary - Buck is a fan - says it’s a great time of day to see otters, sea lions, and harbor seals. Chris is practically buzzing with excitement, all previous teenage apathy erased in a heartbeat. 

“If you’re really lucky, we’ll see sea slugs!” Brittany exclaims as they get into their kayaks. “We have opalescent nudibranch slugs all over and the colors they come in are amazing. They’re beautiful!”

Buck doesn’t think he’s ever heard anyone call a slug beautiful. Or get excited about a slug. He likes her. 

They help Chris into his kayak, and then Eddie calmly and expertly explains the best way to paddle. Kind of steps on Brittany’s tutorial moment, if Buck is honest.  He seems really familiar with the mechanics of kayaking. 

“When have you kayaked before?” Buck asks. 

“Huh? Oh. Here and there.” Eddie shrugs. 

“Here and there?” Buck echoes. 

“There was a lake near my house growing up. Like, the only lake around,” Eddie says. “Had to find things to do.” 

Well, okay then. Buck grew up near a fuck ton of bodies of water, and he is a mediocre kayaker at best. But sure. There goes Eddie, being stupidly competent again. As always. 

Brittany is pretty understanding that Chris can’t quite keep a regular pace for the tour. He’s doing a good job and trying hard, but they’re taking it slow. Which Buck is honestly happy about. It’s such a beautiful day. Perfectly sunny, but with a cool breeze.

[v4vandana]

GOOD GIRL GONE BAD ZODIAC SIGN=Cancer, Scorpio & Pisces ♋️♏️♓️🦀🦂🐟🌊

Evan Rachel Wood, Pisces Moon as Tracy Freeland

Side Note:Tracy got involved in social misbehaviour due to the influence of Evie(Nikki Reed, Gemini Moon)

Have you ever wonder what zodiac sign causes an innocent girl go from playing with barbie dolls and being righteous to causing chaos and using substance? Well it’s the air signs influence who turn the innocent water signs to do chaotic stuff or water signs naturally just become absorbed in the sensorial pleasure they forget about everything and aren’t self aware.

Lindsay Lohan, Cancer ASC as Cady Heron

Side Note:Regina George was played by Rachel McAdams(Gemini Moon)

As you may know water is governs the sacral chakra, the chakra of sensorial pleasure. Those who overly dwell in the sacral chakra can become overly stimulated in their senses and be completely unaware of how their actions affect others. In addition, overly emotional, and you might become too attached to people and depend on them for your happiness + no sense of boundary which can get you prone to addictions. Water is a easily polluted element and can be very sensitive and fixated on purity.

Kaya Scodelario, Pisces Sun & Cancer Moon as Effy Stonem

If you want to think of someone with an overactive sacral chakra, you can think of Effy Stonem

Sydney Sweeney, Scorpio ASC as Cassie Howards

Side Note: Maddy Perez was played by Libra Moon Alexa Demie

Tangent back to the good girl going bad trope. I think one perfect example would be Cassie from Euphoria. In season 2 she sleeps with her friends ex boyfriend behind her back due to her overactive sacral chakra.

Brittany Murphy, Scorpio Sun&Moon as Tai

Side note: Although Cher(Alicia Silverstone, Libra Sun) isn’t a bad influence its interesting to note that Water Signs are always friends with Air signs

Also another thing, i see that sometimes a love interest also disrupts them and turns them bad. You saw that with Cassie, Cady and now Tai and many more examples to come

Winona Ryder, Scorpio Sun&Pisces Moon as Veronica Sawyer

Lol again !! Christian Slater has Libra Moon. Air Signs and Water Signs find each other everywhere

Olivia Newton John, Cancer Moon as Sandy Olsson

Btw the mean girl in the movie Betty, the actress had Aquarius Sun and Libra Moon AND the love interest has Aquarius Sun. Water sign changing because of an Air sign

Lili Reinhart, Scorpio ASC as Betty Cooper

I have so much more i want to add but 10 is the limit so i am typing down 2 more

1.Lola Tung, Scorpio Sun and Cancer Moon as Belly in The Summer I Turned Pretty

Both her love interest had Air sign moons(Gemini&Aquarius)

2.Lana Condor, Cancer Moon as Lara Jean in To All The Boys I’ve Loved

her love interest was a Aquarius Moon

Sidenote: love triangle tropes is seen in Fire Signs

Brittany Murphy, Scorpio Sun&Moon

Eminem, Libra Sun & Aquarius Moon

Eminem must have a thing for water+fire sign woman (Rihanna,Pisces Sun & Mariah Carey,Cancer Moon too)

AIR AND WATER SIGNS FIND EACH OTHER EVERYWHERE

Anyways thank you for taking the time and reading. I tried my best to explain. I am good at patterns but have a difficult time writing. Thank you for reading💞💗.

[shitswiftiessay]

So Taylor’s team has put out YET ANOTHER article about gaylors and Taylor’s sexuality in an attempt to distract the public from her association with the Mahomes family who just paid to let Jackson avoid felony charges for sexual battery.

I discussed this obvious distraction tactic the other day so I’m not going to get into it much here..

but I just find it incredible, how stupid Taylor’s fans are, that they can’t see the obvious wool being pulled over their eyes. OF COURSE they are going to talk and argue nonstop about these gaylor articles, because they have the attention span of skittish dogs. Swifties are going to let Taylor get away with possibly helping a sex offender to walk free because they’re too busy arguing about her fucking sexuality.

You think Taylor gives a SHIT if people thinks she’s gay or straight or neurodivergent? She’ll let you believe she is whatever you want her to be as long as she can make MONEY off you. She doesn’t care.

But she + her team is using the “gaylor” topic (which is always a hot button issue in that fandom, bound to cause arguments) to make her fans stop talking about her sketchy association with Jackson (the sex offender) and Brittany Mahomes (the woman who went on a rant to defend the sex offender on social media).

[paracosmic-murdock]

Tell me what are my words worth ; Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Chapter 6: "Embrasse-le et épouse-la"

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: While the other ladies have grown with the mindset of marrying and having children, you, as the daughter of a man who wanted a son, grew up being both. You learnt how to embroider, play the pianoforte, fence and manage the estate. However, there were some things that not even the Duke of Burgundy could do, so after he passed and you thought there was nothing left for you, you decided to move to London for a while and go to the Royal Academy of Art.

Nothing was going to keep you from what you wanted, and you would do whatever it takes: you would lie to everyone, you would live to death, you would pretend to be a man. You had a plan and it would be a piece of cake for you. But again, when has something that she wants and should not do easy for a woman? Especially when a man like Benedict Bridgerton gets in the way in more ways than one.

Warnings/tags: idiots in love, eventual smut, love triangles (but not really), lgbtq+ themes, bisexual benedict bridgerton, feminist themes, historical inaccuracy (for the sake of the plot), inspired by mulan (1998), song: the lakes (taylor swift), other tags to be added

Chapter summary: You received the first letter addressed to you from France since you left, showing what a necessity your return was; and the night at Lawrence House, just like mostly every other you should not be at, lead to another incident. Once again, one starred by Antoine and Benedict.

Word count: 2.1K

❁ Series masterlist

❁ mila's anthology (main masterlist)

Dearest Lady Y/N,

Here in Burgundy we all hope and pray you are perfectly fine.

Your escape has been a scandal known from Corsica to Brittany, and it has awakened many more rumors than one can believe. The most resounding states that you ran away with a lover, and even His Majesty the King came to the Palace to question everything.

There are many novelties, and I am afraid that your presence is required to solve them.

Firstly, the renovation of the Palace of Versailles is finally finished, and it is important that you go and make sure everything is in order and the way you want it. It will be available for you to stay by next Thursday.

Secondly, along with the latest shipment of jewelry, your Grandfather and Cousin David unexpectedly arrived earlier today. They are considering seeing you in London, but I insisted on waiting for your reply to this letter to know if you would return to meet them or receive them there. From what I have heard, they are here to take you to the Americas with them, for it seems like they are interested in the diamond business and want you to invest. Just as your Grandfather was approaching Claude, I notified him of your father's wishes to keep you in charge of the businesses and the estate until your heir takes his rightful place and he is more than pleased with the idea. He suggested David to take the spot of the Duke as it is needed so that way you can perform ducal duties without anyone's opinion interfering, understanding that there is no one who can fit the job better than you.

Thirdly, Claude consulted me with the idea of increasing the taxes. I told him we must have everything in order first, as I am sure you do not agree with his reasoning. While I am well aware that you do not wish for him to have access to the profits of the businesses, he is realizing that it does not make much sense for you to spend so much solely covering it by the scarce money received from the people. For that, he believes you are in great debt and that there is no other choice but to do so. It is best if you resolve this matter by yourself here in Burgundy.

I simply suggest, Lady Y/N, that you return to France before it is known in England that you escaped from your home. Or even worse, before your motives get exposed.

Best wishes,

Cartier

Dear Seigneur Cartier,

I am pleased to have received your letter and grateful to you for keeping me informed.

I understand the scandal my departure must have caused in France, and I assure you that once I return, I will make sure everything gets sorted out.

After speaking to the Carringtons, they would be honored to receive my Grandfather and David, but I would rather they wait for me to get back to Burgundy. Tell them I would adore to join them in America, though I will need someone to supervise Cousin Claude on his every movement in the house after I was absent for so long.

Do not let him increase the taxes, tell him it is best to wait for the end of the year. I will have gotten married by then and he is not going to be in our home any longer after that. If I am not successful in finding a husband here in London, I believe there are enough nations in Europe and a hundred times as many gentlemen left for me to meet and, therefore, find the one to marry.

If we must keep him occupied, put him in charge of selling l'Hôtel de Bourgogne for as much as he can get from it. The money will go to the investment in the diamond mines, though he mustn't know that.

Unless there is any novelty, I will be back in France in three weeks at most. I hope to meet you and my grandfather at the Palace of Versailles for my arrival.

Before saying goodbye, I wanted to ask you to please send to London a few bottles of our finest wine.

Looking forward to your answer,

Lady Y/N of Burgundy.

[Translated from French]

"Alright, I sent the letter." you told Antoinette.

"When will we finally be back in France?" she asked anxiously.

You clicked your tongue, walking before her on your way to the carriage. "In two weeks, after the Featherington Ball."

"Do we really have to wait until then?"

"Yes," you answered. "The Carrington Ball is tomorrow, in four days we are leaving for Aubrey Hall and five days after that is the Featherington Ball. It's not too much time."

"Will you return, my Lady?"

"I don't think I will."

She nodded. "To Lawrence House?"

"Yes."

You soon arrived at Grant's home, being received with your friends' cheers and their joy to see you attend another gathering after many refusals.

"Does your sister like jewelry? We will send her a gift for letting you come," Santiago said. "I am not joking, Antoine, we are all thankful."

You laughed. "I know you cannot live without me, but you mustn't give my sister any emeralds to show that."

"Ha! My mother just received some jewelry from France, I am certain there must be something worthy of your sister." Mr. Turner commented. You were almost sure it was jewelry from your family's mines, but did not say a word.

"I can guarantee you all that she has enough jewelry to give a very thoughtful present to every woman in England," you added, knowing it was a thing a brother would say about his sister. "Save them for the ladies you are courting."

Cortez stood up. "How much for the most expensive one? My dearest Lady Y/N of Burgundy will adore it."

"Are you courting her?" Lord Connor questioned, and he nodded. "Nice! How is it going with her? I have heard she is a rare jewel!"

"Unlike any other lady I have seen," Santiago said. "In a sense that she wasn't trying to impress me, but did it still. I will marry her, gentlemen, I bet my soul on it!"

"Women like confident men, keep it up with the good work!" you yelled, taking the glass of brandy Lawrence offered you. "There is a fine line between confidence and arrogance you must be careful not to cross. Women like her would throw you away like a used napkin if you do."

"If it isn't our expert in women speaking!"

"I am quite the expert," you replied. "But I have my very own lady waiting for me in France. You all wouldn't stand a chance against me if I didn't."

"You just crossed the line." Lawrence noted.

"Not in front of a lady, I did not."

They laughed, and you all kept drinking and talking. Some friends joined later, including Benedict.

You did not interact much with him, and there were nothing but sneaky glances and spaces between you.

But you were drunk and hopelessly in love with him, regardless of how little you knew each other. Still, you were conscious enough to leave the room before he considered approaching you.

What you did not count on, was that he would follow you to Grant's studio a while after you had left the room everyone was in.

When Benedict entered the studio, he saw you: only a few candles and the moonlight helped you see around, your hair was tied up in a bun, the sleeves of the linen shirt were rolled up to your elbows, the burgundy waistcoat that reminded you of home gave color to the setting in all hues around amber. The painting developing on the canvas in front of you resembled the landscape of the outsides of the villa. The moon seemed to be the theme of the piece, and your focus that ignored his presence only made Benedict smile.

"There is something valuable in the simplest landscapes one can paint," you mentioned as soon as you noticed his reflection on the window. "I have painted ancient ruins… Roman and Greek, the Pyramids in Egypt, the coldest night sky seen from the great dunes of the Sahara desert, flawless Northern Lights from Norway, the most ravishing lakes worthy of dead poets when the sun rises in the North of the Americas, the mountains and forests found in the mystical South; as many portraits as the cities I've been to, every sort of complex technique you could think of. Still, there is something magical about the colors of the heavens when the sun sets in the vineyards, the view of it from the Château du Clos de Vougeot is priceless… Paintings from dusk until dawn of the gardens of the Palace of the Dukes. It is the sense of familiarity of it all, I assume."

"I would not know until I paint anything outside of England."

You smiled, looking around the room as you spotted dozens of portraits of people. "No offense to our fellow artists at all, but I find it delightful to portrait the beauty of nature rather than the wrinkles in those empty faces. Unless, of course, there is someone you love being the subject of one's art."

"Well, not everyone has had the fortune of traveling the world, Antoine."

"But everyone can appreciate those twilight moments outside their homes, can they not?"

Benedict nodded with a smile. "Touché."

"Take a look at the moon," you invited him, and he approached you right away. "The greatest wonders in the world are right here in plain sight, and some are blind to them, even with seeing eyes."

"Where are your paintings?"

"Some at the Palace of the Dukes," you answered. "Others in Versailles, some others were sold."

"I wish I could see them someday."

"Whenever you're in France make sure to address a letter to my sister. She organized an exhibition with our art."

"She is not like the regulars, is she?" Benedict laughed. "I assume no one says no to her."

You smiled. "A mind like hers knows no limits and her spirit cannot be stopped. Whoever says no to her will regret it, I'm sure."

"Is she that dreadful?" Benedict joked.

"Not at all," You chuckled. "She loves like no other."

"I spent only a couple afternoons with her, and I could tell how enchanting she is."

Blood rushed into your cheeks at his words, so your attention returned to the painting. "Any man that marries her will be the most fortunate one."

Benedict could have said that despite what happened between him and Antoine, yours was always the face he saw when he closed his eyes. It was your face instead of the women's he went to bed with often: no matter that they shared your skin tone, the particular length of your hair or the skilled hands yours have proved to be through your melodies. It was your voice calling out his name and your touch burning him alive rather than theirs. Instead, he said that: "A woman whose company is as delightful as hers is, is worthy of keeping."

"I'm sure."

Then there was silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. The slowly building tension was easy to outlive unless one of you decided to act upon it, and you knew that would not happen.

You do not often admit when you are not right in something. Right now, you couldn't even hide how wrong you were because when you least expected it, Benedict was so close to you.

This time you looked at each other in the eyes for a while, and this time it was you who kissed him. And Benedict didn't pull away, he wouldn't even if his life depended on it.

Neither of you opened your eyes when the kiss ended, neither of you said a word.

"I- I think I… I think I love her."

Your heart fluttered at his confession, and while his kisses belonged to another, his affections were yours. "That is fantastic."

Benedict chuckled and kissed you again. "I do not know what to do."

"You love her? Utterly and truthfully, you do?" you questioned him.

"I've just met her twice."

You bit your lip. "So have we."

"Yes, so have we."

"Benedict, you and I, we are men, we cannot do this."

He kissed you again. "I know."

You must return to France with at least a serious suitor, engaged if you could.

You couldn't risk that the incident with your cousin happens again, and if you had to return betrothed, it was best if the man you were to marry was Benedict. Whatever that was happening between you and him and Antoine- you… You did not know what it was, you could not make sense of any of it, but you could not return to France by yourself.

Whatever it takes.

"Marry her, then."