#guys i drew this on wednesday. it is friday now i have been stopping myself from posting this so i seem kinda sane

[thedndgoblinwholivesinyourwalls]

guys i fear they’re my last braincell

[thran-duils]

Dubious Representation (P.2)

Title: Dubious Representation (Part Two) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Hank Palmer. Reader’s husband is facing jail time and although Hank Palmer entered the counsel for pro bono, he is still going to get a form of payment. Recently single, he’s been lonely and he’s looking for some comfort. Even if it means obtaining it from less than savory means. Words: 2,401 Warnings (for entire fic): Eventual smut, sexual coercion, infidelity, mention of past domestic violence, verbal abuse Author’s Note: Decided on three parts!

Part One || Part Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

You walked into the office, alone, his secretary, Sarah, closing the door behind you. You stood by the door, not taking a seat or moving towards the desk.

“You’re early,” Hank commented, typing on his laptop, eyes focused there.

“I always give myself at least a fifteen-minute buffer,” you told him. “Seemed to not be a problem since you called me in anyway.”

He smirked briefly as he continued to type.

After a minute, he clicked a couple times before shooting you a look, “You gonna just stand there? Sit down, please.” You started moving to the chair and he tsked, “No, come here.”

You slowly placed your purse on the chair and moved around his desk. He scooted his chair back and leaned back in the chair, tapping his lap. Keeping a neutral face, you turned around and sat lightly, not putting all your weight on him.

“You doing a wall sit? Your legs are gonna be shaking in no time. Come on, make yourself comfortable.” You closed your eyes, taking a small breath. You had signed up for this. You scooted to do what he asked, and he breathed deeply as you settled on his lap. “Nice yoga pants by the way.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not. It seems to be your only tone.”

Hank chuckled, “Oh, I’m more than serious. You can’t feel that?”

You could and that is why you wanted to move. He was already poking you in the ass through his slacks.

“Couldn’t miss it.”

“You trying to flatter me? Well, it’s working.” His hand came to rest on your thigh, and he tapped. “Read that document on the computer. It’s what you both told me last about the incident and I wanna know if it’s complete.”

Leaning forward you focused on the screen and tried to not think of Hank admiring the curve of your ass as you leaned forward. You would be lying to yourself if you said you were not getting hot with what was happening.

You scanned the document as quickly as you could and nodded. “It’s fine.”

“‘Fine’. That’s not encouraging.”

“That’s how I remember it.”

“That’s better, sweetheart.”

His hands were running up and down your thighs, fingers gentle and tantalizing. You looked over your shoulder at him and he grinned in response.

“I think we can sway the jury to see it as self-defense, get that charge dropped. You’ll need to look like a little doe though sitting behind him, garner sympathy with that pretty face of yours. Protective husband just making sure his wife didn’t get hurt or worse. Emphasize the worst, put that in their head what could have happened. It would justify him putting a knife up to the guy’s neck.”

You stood quickly, the memory flooding back.

Hank followed your movement and he said gently, “Hey.” He turned you to face him and he rubbed your arms. “Sorry, we’ll stop talking about it. It’s good. We got it. Let’s talk about you. How ravishing you look. You’re stunning, doll.”

He followed your gaze until he provoked you to meet his and he came in for a slow kiss. You were stiff at first, still thinking of that man that had tried to assault you and how enraged Rich had become. He had almost killed the guy if people had not pulled him off.

Hank’s lips were soft, but his kiss grew in intensity. He had you pressed up against the desk and encouraged you to sit up on it. Your legs wrapped around his, one hand holding the back of his neck. You arched your back, pressing towards him when he captured your mouth again. You melted into his embrace, there was nothing overtly malicious about it. It was comforting even.

He groaned lightly, his lips trailing across your jawline, tucking into the nape of your neck. His grips were tight and desperate as he searched your body, his mouth devouring at your shoulder. He was relishing in just having you to touch.

Hank pulled away flushed, his lips darker and swollen. He came back for another deep kiss, and you met him in his fervor. His tongue slipped past your lips, and you swirled yours, much to his pleasure.

“God, you’re divine,” he breathed pulling away again.

“Flattering me?” you asked, turning his own quip back on him. “It’s working.”

He simpered going for your top. He freed you from it and dipped down nipping at the tops of your breast poking out from your bra. His hands worked at the clasp at your back, and he tore the bra off as well.

You took the opportunity to stop him, his lustful gaze confused at your hand on his chest, holding him suddenly.

“You’re clean, right?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing. I came prepared.” He held up a condom he pulled out of his pocket.

“You didn’t answer me.”

“I’m clean. You?”

“Yes. I’m only sleeping with Rich.”

“That’s sweet of you,” Hank said curtly before he ordered, “Over the desk, legs spread. I wanna see you stretch around me.”

You felt heat in your core at his dominant behavior. Rich was only like that when he was drunk but he could also get violent when he was drunk. It was rarely worth the risk.

Slipping off the desk, you rubbed against him considering he barely gave you any room. Hooking your fingers into your waist band, you began to tug your pants down, but he said, “Ah, ah. I’ll do the honors. Just do what I told you.”

Your stomach met the desk and you spread your legs like he asked. His hands ran up your thighs and across your ass, admiring. He squeezed and prodded, one hand slipping between your legs to run up your pussy. You shivered, your hands clenching at the contact. He hummed in approval as he yanked your bottoms down past your knees, them falling the rest of the way to your ankles.

“Isn’t that a lovely sight?” He purred, squeezing at your ass. He let out a small growl, lying a light smack.

You heard him rip the condom open and you gripped at the desk, your breathing beginning to quicken with the anticipation.

“Nervous, doll?”

“No,” you breathed.

Hank praised, “Good girl.”

His cock pressed in, and you bit your lip, holding back a moan. His hand came to the back of your neck as he entered further, and you took him inch by inch.

Setting a steady pace, he started using you, muttering praise under his breath that you only caught snippets of. Your fingers dug into the desk as your hips began to rut as his speed increased. He groaned holding your hips tight, bruising thrusts against your ass as he pounded into you, the desk shaking. You feared Sarah would hear, even though she was further down the hall.

He brushed your core and you moaned sharply giving yourself away. He slowed, drawing himself out and in painfully slow, brushing your spot. You whimpered with each contact.

“There you are,” Hank said with a throaty chuckle.

He increased his thrusts again, making sure to pay special attention to you, panting as his cock drew in and out. You arched your back as you buried your head, pathetic moans falling from your lips. You were trying to bury them into his desk. One hand came to your back, pressing down as his breathing became erratic, forcing you flat again.

“Come on, doll. Come for me. Don’t worry about Sarah. She won’t bother us. Come all over my cock. Show your appreciation.”

You released with a sharp cry, your hands flat against the desk tautly. Hank groaned obscenely feeling your walls constrict and he increased his thrusts before he came in rasping breaths, shaking against you.

Hank pulled away, taking the condom off, and carelessly tossing it into the trash by his desk. He wiped at his face and said, “Shit. Made me work up a sweat. Can’t wait for the next round though.”

<><><>

Your phone buzzed beside you on the blanket, and you reached over blindly, grabbing it. Pushing your sunglasses up, you looked at the text. It was Hank.

Where are you?

Grant Park. Why?

Just a little bit hungry.

What was he getting at? Was he asking you out on a date…? You had not seen him since Friday; it was Wednesday now. Your stomach clenched at the thought. How would that look if anyone you knew happened to spot you? Still, you texted him back. Maybe he meant just a drive thru and not out in the open.

Do you want to get lunch?

I thought you’d never ask. Meet me at the south entrance. Grey Ferrari convertible.

He drove recklessly and the wind whipped around you. He stopped up against the curb at a sandwich place and ushered you inside to order a sandwich to go. Small blessings you would not have to sit at a table and wonder if someone you knew walked by and would tell Rich you were having lunch with another man, even if it was his attorney.

Hank took you to the marina and led you to a boat. His boat, he explained, and it was a sunny day so why not enjoy it on the deck? There was a table with a cushioned wrap around couch that you sat at.

You barely got two bites in before he was on you and you gasped quickly when he got to his knees, spreading your legs apart, shoving your dress up.

“Hank, what are you doing?” You hissed.

“I thought you offered me lunch,” he stated bluntly.

“We are in public—"

“Exciting isn’t it?”

“Can’t we go… inside? You said there was a bedroom downstairs—” you suddenly squeaked as he nipped at the inside of your thigh near your pussy.

His fingers slipped past your underwear, and you could not hide from him anymore. A wicked grin came across his face, his fingers sliding in your wetness.

“Looks like you are ready to serve,” he purred. His fingers left you and he brought them up to his lips, sucking on them. “Sweet. Just like I like it.”

You looked over your shoulder nervously trying to see if there were any people on the dock nearby or any of the boats. You did not spot anyone, but you did not have long to look because Hank drew you back by tugging roughly at your underwear, pulling them off and tossing them onto the table.

“Hook your leg over my shoulder,” he told you, his breath hot on your sex.

You obeyed and he was lecherous and starving in the way he dove in. Your hands braced against the cushions, gasping gently. He sucked and licked, devouring the taste of you.

“Good thing I’m not a huge fan of these slacks cause this deck hasn’t been cleaned in a week,” he joked, laying small kisses up and down your pussy before he was back at it, determined to make you come into his skilled mouth.

<><><>

Washing his hands at the sink, Hank saw Warren, the DA lawyer for Rich’s case, walk in. Warner actually smirked seeing Hank, stopping his stride to the urinal.

“Funny you took this case on…” Warner told him.

“Why’s that?” Hank asked, adjusting his tie in the mirror.

“I mean. I have never seen you take a case that can be so easily lost. You’re always just win… win… win.”

“Stop fucking around and just say what you wanna say,” Hank said impatiently, turning to face him.

Warner cocked his head and asked, “It is plain as day the way the jury is going to swing about this aggravated assault. Considering his past abuses against women.”

Hank did not let his face betray him, but he was tense at the information.

All he said was, “We will see about it.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked out of the bathroom, immediately whipping out his phone.

<><><>

“Get your ass over here!” Hank snarled at Rich, pulling him away from a startled Y/N. He pulled him into an empty room and shoved him up against the wall roughly.

“What the fuck is your—" Rich started to snap.

“You didn’t tell me you were a fucking abuser!” Hank snarled at him, getting in his face. “You’ve been booked for domestic violence not once but twice! Was it her? Y/N?”

Rich only looked caught off guard for a moment.

“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t have anything to do with—" Rich tried to argue, ignoring his question.

And Hank almost lost it completely, the veins in his temples taut with his ferociousness.

“It has everything to do with this! My job is to cast doubt on the assault charges! Show it was self-defense! The DA is gonna have — actually I know they have this information about you slapping your wife around. How do you think that’s gonna bode on the jury’s opinion?”

He took a step back, running his hand over his hair, tugging. He swore under his breath, trying to calm himself down to no avail.

“You’re... you fucked me! Hung me out to dry!” Hank snarled. He got close again, hand on his hip, pointing a finger threateningly at Rich. “We are gonna lose this appeal! Because you weren’t honest! And you set us up for failure but being a raging piece of shit! You’re going to prison for a long time!” He scoffed. “You didn’t ‘wanna leave your wife’. Give me a fucking break! It sounds like that would be the best thing for her! And that’s what the jury is gonna think too!”

“It’s a litigation now and I would need to ask for permission to leave! And you know what? I actually like your wife. She’s not a dickhead like you. And I told her to her face I would do my best. So that’s what I’m gonna do.” He shook his head furiously again and snarled, “Rookie goddamn mistake on my part for trusting you were going to tell me everything straight up. Rookie mistake!”

He shot Rich a murderous look and said, “You better kiss your fucking wife goodbye, Richard. Because you are going to go away for probably at least a decade!”

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney

[erinxneil]

22: “Sorry we are late, we were totally not having sex.”

Thank you so much for suggesting this @mortallythoughtfulgurl ! It made me super happy to see that you enjoyed my previous post enough to suggest a specific number! I plan to do all of the prompts on the list, however if there are any specific numbers that you’d like me to do sooner then simply send me a request and I will do so! These prompts are all from the list here.

masterlist

TW: Mentions of Reid’s prior drug problem, mentions of family death.

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Reader

Summary: Spencer doesn’t quite understand the concept of being subtle.

>>>These are all basically one-shots! This doesn’t follow the story line as the last post that I made, however I may do a series soon :)

Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I smiled as I packed away my things. Not only had the team just solved another successful case.

I, myself had managed to save the victim, as I was able to talk down the unsub simply by using my words. I did this as I understood what the unsub was going through. While, of course, resorting to murder and becoming a serial killer isn’t exactly the first thing that I did after discovering that my sister had been murdered, although I was able to empathize with the killer and thus convince him that murdering a girl who bared resemblance to his kin would not revive her.

I felt my smile droop the faintest bit. While the victory of a successful case made me feel like rejoicing, this case had brought up poor memories. I shrugged them off and headed for the door.

“Hey, Y/N!” JJ called out. I turned around slowly, eyebrow perked in question. “You coming out tonight? We thought we’d head out for some drinks.”

I offered her a tight smile. “Not tonight, guys, sorry.”

Spencer coughed. “Yeah, me neither, I’m not really feeling it.”

Emily frowned. “Reid,  didn’t you just say that you we-”

He coughed again. “Yeah. Changed my mind. I’m not feeling well. Is that a problem, Emily?” Spencer cocked an eyebrow in challenge, as if trying to be intimidating. I chuckled a little. While Spencer could be intimidating as hell during cases, such as during interrogations, we all know that he would never do anything that could remotely harm us. However, his sass was welcomed and quite amusing.

I turned. “Well, goodnight, friends. See you tomorrow.” Before I could take even more than three steps, my name was called again.

“Wait, Y/N! You took an Uber here, right?” I blinked. Oh, right, I had completely forgotten about that. I had known we would be leaving the state for a few days for the case, and didn’t want to leave my car here. How did Reid remember that, yet I didn’t? Spencer disrupted my thoughts again. “Well- uh, I could give you a ride. If you’d like.” I quirked an eyebrow at how fidgety he was being.

“Alright, lover-boy, lead the way.” His cheeks tinged at the nickname. It was admittedly quite cute, however he quickly ducked his head and lead me to the car, shielding his face with his hair so that I would be unable to see his blush.

-*-*-*-*-*-

We drove in relative silence for a majority of the car ride. Although surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward. As the case hit me harder than I expected, I welcomed the silence, and was thankful that Spencer didn’t force any conversation between us.

“It’s just the left up ahead.” I muttered quietly. Reid bit the inside of his cheek, eyes remaining focused on the road ahead of him. I blinked as he drove completely past the turn. “Uh, you missed it.” I chuckled nervously.

“I’m not taking you home.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Reid, I hope you don’t plan on kidnapping me. For a profiler, you should know that considering you were the one to give me a ride home, everyone at the BAU saw me get into your car, which would make you a prime suspect.” He smiled softly. “I’m not kidnapping you, Y/N, I just wanted to show you something.”

I furrowed my eyebrows but didn’t question him further until we pulled up on the top of a cliff.

“Woah.” I murmured, admiring the beautiful landscape before me. In the distance, snowy mountaintops scattered the planes, with ashy planes and various kinds of trees. It was the type of image that you would find as a laptop screen background, one that you never imagined you would see in person.

“Where are we?” I questioned. When I wasn’t met with an answer, I turned to glance at Spencer, who jumped in surprise at me looking at him. He blinked abruptly, as if being taken out of a trance.

“This is called Possum Point- or, at least, a crook of it. I come here often when I feel particularly struck by cases that we have.” I smiled. “It’s beautiful. However, I don’t really understand why you’re showing me this.”

Spencer unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car, before moving to my door and opening it for me. He then sat on the hood of the car and patted the spot beside him with a grin. I sat, and raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Come on, Y/N, I’m a profiler, you can’t really suppose that I didn’t notice that you took this case personally?”

I shifted uncomfortably. “So what?”

Reid shrugged. “I just figured you’d want someone to talk to. Or at least, I wanted you to know that there’s someone available to listen, if you’re willing.” The corner of my lip tugged upwards. In the moonlight, the features of the man next to me seemed ever the more beautiful. He held direct eye-contact, something that was rare for Spencer, and therefore I knew how genuinely he wanted to comfort me. His delicate features were something I had never really taken notice of before. Before, he was simply Reid. The brainiac agent- sorry, Doctor- whom you happened to work beside. Now, not only did you acknowledge the beauty of his facial structure, you also understood that there was more to him than useless facts and magic tricks. He held compassion that he was willing to offer you.

“Y/N?” His soft voice broke me from my thoughts. In the process of admiring him, you had completely forgotten that he was speaking to you. You sighed.

“I just understand the pain and anger that Homer was feeling. I mean, obviously murder isn’t a reasonable reaction. However, I can understand being angry at the world and wanting to make others feel the pain that you do.” I frowned. “When my sister died, I was in a dark place, and often took out my anger on the people who cared about me, because I didn’t understand how they were allowed to continue living their lives being happy, while my sister wasn’t able to even continue living.”

Spencer wrapped an arm around my shoulder and gently rubbed my arm. “I can’t even imagine how that must have felt. I’m sorry that you had to go through that. Having people all around you but still feeling entirely alone...” His voice trailed off softly. This reminded you that he said he himself comes often when cases cut him too deeply.

“Spencer, what kinds of cases cause you to come out here to reflect?”

“Usually when we have cases focused on unsubs with a drug addiction.” Reid muttered. My eyebrows raised in surprise. I had heard office chatter of rumors of a drug addiction that Reid had battled alone a year or two prior to your arrival at the BAU, although you always took them with a grain of salt, as you hadn’t heard it straight from his mouth. However, it appears that now, you could confirm your suspicions.

You offered him a faint smile. “Well, if you ever need someone to talk to it about, or you’d simply like some company on this cliff as well, I’d be more than happy to abide. I feel much better than I did when we left the office.”

Reid met my smile with a grin. “Glad to be of service.”

-*-*-*-*-*-

The next day at work, I could tell that the dynamic between Spencer and I had been altered. Usually, we simply worked beside each other, sparing words of encouragement every now an then. However, after that night, we stole glances, smiled at each other, and often conversed on the jet. We eventually began having lunch together. Spencer would buy me coffee on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and I bought it for him on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. We knew each other's orders- I took mine black, while his required as much sugar was available.

Weeks went by, and we only drew closer.

“Alright everyone, remember, dinner tonight at Jose’s Diner! We’re celebrating the release of Rossi’s newest book!” JJ explained to the team as we prepared to leave for the day. “You are to arrive at 8 PM sharp, if you’re late you better have a really good excuse!”

I grinned at JJ’s scolding. While we all knew that she wouldn’t be able to do anything to us, she’s quite terrifying when she’s angry, so I doubted that anyone would dare to arrive a minute after 8:00. I began to head for the door when I was stopped by a nervous Spencer.

“Hey, Y/N, could I give you a ride home?” I grinned. “Of course, Spence.”

When we arrived, I glanced at him expectantly. “So, I suppose you had a reason for offering to drive me home, other than the obvious of course, of you simply enjoying my company.” I smiled coyly, and he scratched the back of his neck anxiously.

“Y/N,” he began slowly, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night on the cliff.” I blinked in surprise, but stayed silent, allowing him to continue. “You’re beautiful, inside and out. You’ve seen me for who I am and it’s like the more time I spend with you, the longer I want to. I’m not quite sure what this feeling is, or what to do about it, but-”

I cut off his rant by planting my lips on his, one hand on the side of his jaw. He froze at first, taken by surprise, however he quickly melted into the kiss and responded. Pulling away for a moment, he smirked, “So I suppose that you feel the same?”

I rolled my eyes in amusement. “Just shut up and kiss me.” I pulled him closer again by the collar of his shirt, and he returned with no protest.

-*-*-*-*-*-

I smoothed out my dress quickly and checked my makeup one last time in the car mirror before turning to Spencer with a smile. It was 8:24. “Alright, we lost track of time a little bit so we don’t have as much time to debrief as I’d like. Remember, just for now, we are keeping this to ourselves. We haven’t even necessarily discussed this between ourselves yet, therefore there is no reason to involve our coworkers right now. You happened to be giving me a ride when your car broke down. Understood?”

Spencer nodded. “Understood.”

“Are you sure?” “I’m sure. Completely understood.”

We walked into the building together and stood next to our coworkers table. All of their eyes lifted to us expectantly. I opened my mouth to give an explanation, however Spencer beat me to it.

“Sorry we are late. We were totally not having sex.”

I blinked. Reid blinked. Our coworkers blinked. The waitress blinked. The table beside us blinked. The clock on the wall blinked.

I sighed. “Well, so much for secrecy.”

-*-*-*-*-*-

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Satisfied, Part 54

First

Previous

~~~

The lady’s watch beeped.

Marinette grinned as she pushed herself off of the couch. She dug into her bag and handed over a wad of cash. “Thanks, Linda.”

“Of course.” She watched the woman count it and then put it in her pocket. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Nah, I’m going to see my better therapist.”

Linda rolled her eyes. “Harley lets you give in to unhealthy coping mechanisms, that doesn’t make her better.”

“Lalalalala! Not listening!” Said Marinette, ducking out the door.

“Right! Don’t forget your homework! Five more good things about yourself!”

“Oh nooooooo you’re too far away I can’t hear you!”

Linda groaned. “Ladybug, please.”

She sighed and stopped. She turned around, flashing a small smile. “Fiiiiiine, I’ll do it.”

“And they can’t have anything to do with how you help others.”

Marinette cursed. “I should have kept walking.”

“Too late! Have a good week!”

She spun on her heel and threw a wave over her shoulder. “You too!”

“And tell Red Robin to stop by!”

“Will do!”

She hummed lightly and ducked into an ally. “Spots off,” she said. She opened her jacket pocket and let Tikki fly in. She’d stopped using her purse to hold the kwami a few years back when a guy had attempted to steal it and she’d nearly given away her identity trying to get it back. Besides, she never had to open her pocket, so there was no stress when she was paying for something.

She pulled a normal yoyo from her pocket and started playing with it as she walked out the other side.

Marinette glanced up and grinned as she spotted the familiar yellow and black outfits. Signal, Orphan, and Queen Bee had recently started doing daytime patrols. Crime had dramatically decreased since, and Bruce was more than a little bitter that he hadn’t thought about it.

She gave a tiny wave and grinned when they sent some of their own. Marinette had given up on trying to keep the fact that she was friends with pretty much every vigilante in Gotham a secret. It turns out you don’t have to worry about people coming after you to hurt your powerful friends when they are, in fact, afraid of said powerful friends.

She heard her phone go off in her pocket and grinned. Also, the publicity was amazing for her business. That was also good.

~

She grinned and opened a portal under herself, dropping into the Siren’s living room.

“Hey, darlin’,” said Harley, who was far too used to this by now to even blink.

“Kid’s here?” Asked a Catwoman from the kitchen.

“No. I was talking to the plants,” said Harley sarcastically.

Poison Ivy glanced up from watering her plants. “Hilarious. But please do, they grow better when you talk to them every day.”

Catwoman sighed. “Whatever. What do you want to eat, kid?”

Marinette plopped down on the couch. “I’m not a kid. I wasn’t even a kid when you met me.”

“Oh?”

“Yes!”

“Then why don’t you tell us your identity to prove it?”

She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at Catwoman. “Do I look like I’m under eighteen?”

“Do I look like I’m older than thirty?” Catwoman retorted. When she saw the small smirk forming on Marinette’s face she quickly cut her off: “Don’t answer that.”

She huffed. “Think about it. It’s been ten years, do you really think I was eight when we met?”

“Who knows. Human kids all look the same to me.”

Marinette groaned. “I’m not -- you know what? I don’t care anymore.”

“You do, though,” cooed Harley.

A scowl made its way onto her face. “Whatever. Can I use the misty-thingy?”

Poison Ivy handed it over and Marinette spritzed Catwoman. The woman hissed and batted it away.

“I’m choosing dinner,” she said dangerously as she disappeared to the kitchen.

Marinette fought between the instincts to laugh and curse, handing the spritzer back to Poison Ivy. She rested her head on Harley’s lap and smiled to herself as the woman started to braid her hair.

“We still on for that raid on Sunday?” Asked Poison Ivy.

“Sure. I’ll see if I can get Red Hood to go.”

Harley laughed. “I’m sure Batman wouldn’t be too happy about that.”

“Has that ever stopped him before?”

“True, true.”

Catwoman emerged with what looked like a burnt brick. She dropped a plate of it onto Marinette’s lap.

“Eat up, kid.”

She went a little pale as she stared at the food in front of her.

“Well, you see, about that...” She opened a portal under herself and disappeared.

~

She heard a click from her earpiece and flicked it on.

“Right, found one. Looks like a normal mugging,” said Jason.

“Location?” Asked Damian.

Jason gave his general area and sighed. “Right. I’m heading in.”

She listened in on the fight as she hopped from rooftop to rooftop.

Ever since Dick had taken up the Batman mantle (Bruce had, for the most part, retired), he’d made a few changes to patrols.

The first thing he’d done was make it mandatory that they communicate when and where they were getting in fights and transmit the audio. There had been the usual amount of backlash that arises when the bats are asked to do something for their own good, but they’d stopped complaining that it wasn’t necessary when Tim had walked into the manor for coffee with a knife sticking out of his side.

(She was pretty sure that he’d done that on purpose, but whatever.)

Next, he’d set up rotations so people actually got sleep some nights. They switched between two teams. The first (and best) was made up of Jason, Marinette, and Damian. The rest of the time it would be Dick, Tim, and -- occasionally -- Bruce. Most criminals opted for nights with the second team. She never could figure out why --.

They heard the click of Jason’s gun and Dick’s voice cut in: “Don’t kill them!”

Jason scoffed. “What’re you gonna do if I do?”

“I… Mari, tell him not to kill them.”

“Jason --,” she began.

“I’ll buy you a coffee.”

“-- is a grown adult who can make his own decisions.”

She could practically feel Jason’s smirk as Dick cursed.

“Damn, why are you so easy to buy? I’ll... um…”

Bruce cut in: “I’ll build a starbucks in the room next to yours.”

Her eyes widened. “Jason, if you pull that trigger I will never talk to you again.”

“You wouldn’t be able to stay away.”

“Try me.”

There was a short silence and then the click of a safety turning back on. Jason mumbled about how it wasn’t fair, along with a lot of other colorful things.

Marinette, however, was grinning.

~

She slipped into the house and yawned.

Damian looked up from where he was petting Chaton on the couch.

She raised her eyebrows. “Not even gonna detransform?”

He sunk into his hooded jacket. “It’s comfy.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Whatever, give me my cat back.”

“He’s our cat.”

She huffed. “He’s my cat. Give him back.”

“Why don’t we let him choose?”

She scoffed lightly and crossed her arms over her chest. “Not while you’re still Kitten.”

“I told you to call me BatCat!”

“And I told you that I’d rather you beat me to death with a spoon.”

He stuck his tongue out at her and detransformed. They set the cat between the two of them and made cooing noises.

Chaton went to Damian without even sparing her a glance.

“Traitor,” she murmured.

Both of their phones went off and they checked them.

Ah. The Thesmartones chat. It included Riddler and every bat except for Dick

The partners both groaned and opened the chat.

Riddleboye: Can one of you test my new escape room?

Her phone blew up and she glanced at the different chat. Whohastodoriddlersriddlethistime.

Queenbee: Not it

Therealdamianwayne: Not it.

Bruecbrucewayne: not it

Redhoodiewastaken: not it :)

Brucesfavorite: not it

Coffeeismygirlfriendmarinetteismywife: Not it!

Imsurroundedbyidiots: Not it

She groaned when she realized she was the only one who hadn’t done it yet.

Notsleepingwasaconsciousdecision: i hate you all

Damian had the audacity to laugh. She sent him a tiny glare and kicked him in the side. He cursed and she was only saved from his wrath by the cat currently resting on his stomach.

She went back to the original chat.

Notsleepingwasaconsciousdecision: im free monday night

Riddleboye: Thanks!

Notsleepingwasaconsciousdecision: its fine see you then

~

She raised her eyebrows as she stepped into the room and saw Tim awake, clicking away at his laptop. This wasn’t exactly new (far from it, really) but it was still sometimes, somehow, surprising.

She changed into her now well-worn hoodie and crawled into bed. She picked up her newest project, a new costume for Red Hood, and started stitching.

He wrapped an arm around her and drew her close so he could type.

She rested her head against his chest. She stitched in time with his heartbeat.

Her eyes glanced over his screen and she sighed lightly. “No information yet?”

He shook his head. “Nope, still don’t know how to help lower his cortisol levels back to normal. There’s nothing on it.”

“Yeah, it’s almost as if no one else on Earth has Scarecrow’s problem.”

This earned an eye roll. He closed the many tabs on cortisol inhibitors and pulled up a spreadsheet for work. “It’s always ‘reduce stress!’ and ‘take fish oil!’ and other things that we’ve already tried.”

“Yeah, but there’s nothing else we can do. We just have to hope that his therapist can help him work through it.” She blinked. “That reminds me: Linda said that you need to see her.”

“But I don’t have to see her again until Wednesday!”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s Thurs -- actually…” She checked her phone. “Friday. It’s Friday.”

Tim cursed. “So, that’s what I forgot.”

“What, the week day or the therapy session?”

“Both.”

She rolled her eyes.

He pulled away slightly for a second to grab his drink and then handed her a coffee. “Behold. Just the way you like it.”

A blush rose to her cheeks as she took it from him. “Oh, sweetie, you shouldn’t have!”

“Don’t worry about it. I was already making some for myself and yours isn’t hard to make.”

She grinned. “It’s going to be easier to get from now on. I told you I could get Bruce to buy us a coffee shop.”

He huffed and rested his chin atop her head. “Shut up.”

“Eloquent.” She teased. “Anyways, I think I’ve achieved favorite kid status.”

Tim laughed. “Please, bean. You’re not even his favorite daughter. Remember that time he bought Cass an entire police station’s equipment?”

She rolled her eyes and set down her project so she could cross her arms over her chest. “Shut up.”

“Eloquent,” he said, a cheeky grin on his face.

She laughed and tipped her head back to press a kiss to his lips. “I’ve decided I’m getting a divorce.”

He finally set his computer down, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her onto his lap. “You wouldn’t. You love me.”

She smiled and reached up, cupping his cheeks in her hands. “I do.”

Marinette pulled him down for another kiss.

~~~

Holy shit. It’s over.

Right, I’m going to get sappy for a minute so if you don’t want that then I would like to just thank you for reading! You can stick around if you’d like and if not then I hope you have a good life! <3

Okay, now for the emotions stuff.

For context, I’ve been writing a book for the better part of three years. Writing a book is... hard. Shocking, I know. But, in all seriousness, I’m not even halfway through.

I was getting really burned out on writing, and one of my creator friends suggested I do a ‘break project’. I didn’t want to jump into another book but I wanted to keep writing, so I said ‘fuck it I’ll go back to my roots fanfiction it is’.

I’d been reading a lot of Daminette lately, so I decided to put my own spin on the ship and write a cute fluffy fanfiction of around 30k words. Ha.

But, seriously, this project has been really therapeutic for me. It’s showed me that I can actually write a decent story, that people enjoy my writing, that I don’t need to go back and change things constantly...

This was kind of supposed to be a one-time thing and then I was going to disappear, but I found myself actually enjoying writing fanfiction. 

I don’t know.

The plan is now to continue. I have another fic that I’m currently plotting out. It won’t be daily uploads, because each ‘chapter’ is going to be an arc in itself and I don’t want to rush that. I’m not going to give too much of it away, but it’s another mlb x dcu crossover so stick around if you want some of that.

Since I’m still in the planning phase and all the chapters are going to take ages, I’m opening up requests. Feel free to submit a prompt. Or ask me questions if you’d like. I’ll answer in 2-3 business months.

With love,

‘Olivia’

~

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood @all-mights-asscheeks @demonicbusiness @meg-an-ace @fantasiame @qualitypeacepainter @multplelifes @kokotaru @spicybelladonna @ultimatetornshipper @cute-angi @blu-raydisc

<3

[sheerbeautyreigns]

ONE NIGHT

Part 2

***

Excerpt from my longer story Desire. More smutty shenanigans with Drew / Roman (Joe) thanks to Joe's lover Paul Levesque with added Seth (Colby) angst. Enjoy!

***

Joe awoke to the ringing of his phone on the bedside. He picked it up bleary eyed to see Paul’s face. He sighed, rolling onto his back.

‘Hey baby.’ He sounded pretty chipper for 9:30am on a Saturday.

‘Morning,’ Joe said rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was so tired. Paul didn’t waste any time. ‘How was my surprise?’

‘I can’t believe it was Drew. You should have told me. I had a match with him. God knows what was going through his mind.’ Joe exclaimed. ‘Oh I know. I had a hard on watching it. You two work very well together.’

Joe rolled his eyes, propping himself up on the pillows. ‘I’m serious. I didn’t realise you and him…’ he trailed off. ‘Yeah a few years back, on and off. He’s a good guy. I trust him a lot. I would have asked nobody else for you and he seems to like you. How was it?’

‘He was great, nice guy…big,’ Joe started which caused Paul to chuckle. ‘Good! I’m glad. He left after didn’t he?’

‘Yeah, it just seemed to go fast.’ Joe shifted on the bed. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure he can visit again. Would you like that?’ Paul asked. Joe was silent for a moment. ‘I miss you.’

He could hear Paul sigh on the other end of the line. ‘I miss you too baby. I know this isn’t ideal but I’ll see you soon.’ Joe threw off the white covers and got out of the bed. He stopped and looked out the window.

‘I’ll arrange for Drew to see you again Monday night and I’ll see you Wednesday at mine. ‘ It wasn’t a suggestion, more of a statement. ‘I love you.’

‘Love you too.’ Paul ended the call. Joe sighed as he gripped the phone, taking on the view from his hotel window. This whole situation with Paul was starting to become a bit of a mess over the past couple of weeks and he didn’t know what to do about it. It had fucked up his relationship with Colby and now Drew was getting involved. Why did Paul have to be so complicated in his preferences?

The next couple of days were pretty uneventful until Joe got to the arena in Richmond, Virginia for Raw. He would be teaming up with Chris in a tag match against Drew and Jinder. He hadn’t seen Drew since Friday night and there had been no contact since they didn’t have each others numbers.

They had agreed to meet at 5pm to go over their spots. Joe could feel his stomach flip upon seeing Drew again. Luckily he seemed unphased, unless he was really good at hiding it. They were so used to going through the motions that it wasn’t long before they were done. Drew had disappeared off to catch up with Sheamus. Joe spent his time getting a hair and beard trimmed.

The match had gone well and Joe found himself alone in the locker room which was unusual. He went about putting his hair up in a bun and removing his vest when Colby walked in. He hadn’t seen him since their falling out in Atlanta the week prior. He wasn’t fighting tonight, just doing some promo work so he was just wearing a t-shirt and black jeans. Joe looked him in the face from across the room and it was clear to see that Colby was being his usual stubborn self, refusing to acknowledge him. He hated that they weren’t speaking. Joe set his vest aside.

‘So you’re just going to pretend that I don’t exist?’ Joe started, trying not to sound confrontational. He watched as Colby unlocked his locker and took out his belongings.

‘I don’t have anything to say to you.’ He said, refusing to look Joe in the eye.

‘Stubborn as always,’ Joe said in an annoyed tone as the door opened. In walked Drew, wearing nothing but his ring gear and a white towel over his shoulder. ‘Hey.’ He said with a smile. ‘See that. Had the crowd in the palm of our hands.’ He said approaching Joe and pulling him into a hug. ‘Was pretty cool huh,’ Joe forced a smile. This was awkward. Drew dug into his bag that he had set aside. ‘I’m gonna freshen up. What time will you be at the Hilton?’ Joe could see Colby turn his head. Their eyes met briefly before he answered Drew. ‘Uh could be there in an hour. I have a couple of things to do here and I still need to check in.’ He handed his mobile to Joe. ‘Put your number in.’ Drew headed off into the shower area while Joe keyed in his number. Colby stood from across the room looking at Joe, spreading his hands. ‘Lemme guess. Paul’s idea?’

‘It’s not like that.’ Joe defended, knowing exactly what Colby meant. He was right but he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. Joe approached him so that Drew couldn’t hear them. ‘I miss you man. Can’t we just be friends?’

‘Not while you’re with Paul. He’ll do anything to tear us apart and you’re just willing to go with it.’ He started ‘No, that’s not true. You know there’s more-‘

‘Aah, don’t give me that bullshit. He’s got you messing around with Drew now and you just go with it. I know exactly what’s going on.’ He said, his voice becoming raised. ‘Will you keep it down!?’ Joe said glancing towards the shower area, hoping Drew wouldn’t hear. He couldn’t hear the water. ‘Don’t worry, I’m leaving.’ And just like that, Colby was gone again. Joe just couldn’t seem to catch a break with him anymore.

‘Everything OK with you two?’ Drew asked cautiously from the door frame, a towel wrapped around his waist. Joe turned around.

‘Yeah, he’s just being stubborn that’s all.’ Drew gave him a look that said he wasn’t really buying it. Joe wondered what Paul had told him about them, if he’d mentioned anything at all. He quickly changed the subject. ‘Right I need to shower and sort my shit.’ Drew smiled and disappeared to shower himself.

Since Joe had a few people to catch up with at the arena, Drew went on to the hotel and grabbed a drink at the bar. He got a text at 10:20pm from Joe to let him know his room number. Drew downed his beer and headed up to the 10th floor.

‘Hey,’ Joe greeted him with a smile. He had his hair in a neater bun this time and he was wearing loose fitting jogging bottoms and a black tank top. Drew smiled as he entered, already removing his leather jacket. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this all day.’

‘I don’t know what you heard in the locker room but…’ Joe started motioning for Drew to join him on the sofa to which he obliged ‘Did Paul tell you anything specific about what’s going on with me?’

‘He mainly said that he wants me to see you from time to time when he’s away.’ Drew answered.

‘Anything about Colby, what you can do, what you can’t do? I just wanna know.’ Joe searched his eyes hoping for some answers.

‘I am aware that you and Colby have a history and I think…no, I know that Paul isn’t too pleased about it. I’m sure he’s worried when you two spend time together. I mean, I’d be too if I were in his position.’ Drew tried to reason with him. ‘Its none of my business at the end of the day but he trusts me to do as I’m told and he knows I like you.’ Joe blushed hearing this. ‘I just want us to fuck. That’s all I want. I’m a simple guy. No dramas here.’ He continued, raising his hands trying to make light of the situation. Joe smiled. ‘So is it just a deal where you fuck me or what?’

‘Well, Paul’s given me free reign, obviously as long as you’re comfortable too.’ He suggested.

‘Like fucking you?’ Joe asked. Drew’s eyes lit up as those three words came out. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’ He could see Joe’s face light up. They wasted no time in getting undressed and moved to the bed. ‘On all fours.’ Joe instructed, grabbing the lube from the night stand, before kneeling behind Drew. The Scot winced at the sudden cool sensation on his opening. Joe was already hard at the prospect of fucking him. Whatever it was, when he was with Paul, he never got to fuck him. Paul was always on top. It had always been that way. The only other person he got to fuck was Colby but there was zero chances of that now. He decided to make the most of this opportunity. He took his time in fingering Drew’s hole, listening to his reactions, making him enjoy every moment. He withdrew his fingers and lined the tip of his cock up with the slightly gaping hole. Drew inhaled as he gently forced himself in, his muscles closing in around the hard shaft. It felt so good to Joe.

‘Christ,’ Drew growled at the feeling of fullness. ‘You good?’ Joe checked trailing his hands around to his pelvis. ‘So good.’ Drew responded urging Joe to begin fucking him. He started off slow, listening to Drew’s reactions and started picking up the pace. ‘Fucking hell,’ Drew let out as Joe fucked him harder now, not letting go of his pelvis, pummeling him into the mattress. He gripped the sheets below, trying to hold on, breathing heavily as Joe’s balls slammed against his ass. ‘I’m gonna come,’ Joe panted. ‘Do it,’ Drew growled, flipping his hair back, catching a glimpse of the intensity on Joe’s handsome face. He shuddered a few moments later as Joe’s seed filled him. The Samoan would not let go until he was completely drained. He withdrew eventually, falling to the bed on all fours, next to an exhausted Drew. ‘Fuck,’ Joe’s chest heaved up and down as he looked up at the ceiling. ‘Has that been building up for a while?’ Drew asked, rolling onto his side to face him. Joe’s head fell to the side. He nodded and smiled ‘You have no idea…’ There was a moment of silence as Drew’s eyes fixed on Joe’s. The Samoan tried to look away until Drew cupped his jaw in his hand and planted a kiss on his lips. Joe gently gripped his wrist and looked him in the eyes.

‘I thought kissing wasn’t allowed,’ he commented, licking his lips. ‘It’s not. I just can’t help myself.’ He leaned in and kissed him again, this time more passionate, their bodies becoming entangled on the bed. Once Drew had Joe on his back, he flipped him over and pulled his hips up towards him. Joe looked over his shoulder to see Drew with the lube in hand. ‘I’m gonna fuck you so hard after that.’ He warned with intensity in his blue eyes. Joe groaned into the sheets as Drew slid his fingers in. He was instantly hard again. He fingered him hard and deep, stretching him out. Joe barely had time to register what was going on until Drew was already sliding his thick cock in with a little help from the lube. ‘Aaaah fuck.’ Joe cried out, burying his head in his hands, his hair falling in front of him.

‘Time to teach you a lesson, you big fucking tease.’ Drew laughed arrogantly as he watched Joe squirm below him. ‘Pleeease,’ he moaned in between breaths, trying to relax his muscles around Drew’s cock. The Scot slapped him hard on the ass. Joe seethed, gritting his teeth knowing there was no way out of this. ‘Fuck,’ he grunted as Drew began to fuck him, rocking the bed with every thrust. Their moans and groans filled the room. Joe felt like he was in heaven and hell, his body writhing in the mix of pain and pleasure that Drew was dishing out. ‘You like that huh? He taunted, squeezing the ass cheek he had smacked moments ago. ‘Aowww fuck,’ Joe cried out again. When he thought he had had enough Drew slammed hard into him, his seed shooting into Joe’s hole. He grunted with each heavy thrust, sending Joe over the edge, caving into the mattress, a sweaty mess, hair everywhere.

When Drew had seen how limp he had become below, he withdrew immediately, lowering to the bed. He brushed his hair away from his face, seeing that his eyes were closed. Heavy, raspy breaths escaped him.

‘Joe, you OK?’ He tapped at his cheek. ‘Joe???’ he tapped faster this time before flipping him over on his back to help his breathing. Eventually his eyes fluttered open. He looked lost. ‘Joe, you OK?’ Drew said with panic, seeing how out of it that Joe looked. Drew came into his vision. ‘Sorry, sorry…’he apologised rubbing his eyes. ‘I was worried there. You were, like, gone.’ The Scot leaned over him making a fuss. ‘It’s OK, it’s happened before.’ Joe sat up in the bed and grabbed the bottle of water from the nightstand. He mouthed about half of the bottle. ‘Way to ruin the moment eh?’ Joe tried to make light of the situation in order to stop Drew from fussing.

‘You should get that checked out. It doesn’t seem normal.’ Drew looked concerned. ‘Don’t worry, it’s like some sort of euphoric high or something. Paul’s seen it before.’ Joe explained. ‘You were so intense.’

‘I can’t help it. I just wanted to fuck you senseless.’ Drew laughed, relieved he had come around. He looked at the clock. It was almost 12am.

‘Do you have to go?’ Joe asked, eyeing him. ‘Well, I’ve done my deed. I shouldn’t leave after you blacked out though.’

‘I’m totally fine now, don’t worry.’ Joe explained trying to brush it off. ‘I would though.’ Drew bit his lower lip and got up off the bed. Joe’s eyes followed him as he disappeared into the bathroom to take a piss. He emerged a few minutes later. Joe was still sat in the same position but now under the white covers.

‘I know I’m not supposed to stay but I don’t want to leave just yet.’ Drew said standing at the foot of the bed. ‘It’s completely up to you man. I won’t say a word.’ Joe advised. Gingerly, Drew walked around to the other side of the bed and crept in under the covers close to Joe who moved onto his side so he was spooning him now. Joe reached over and turned off the bedside lamp before pulling him close and kissing him goodnight.

[flawlesspeasant]

seasons of love.

I kind of wanted to write sort of a farewell fic to the Jolex fandom. It’s been a really incredible ride and I wanted a way to end that chapter of my fanfiction writing journey. So here it is. I went back to my roots and wrote entirely from Jo’s point of view.

So long, Jolex readers. It’s been a real pleasure and a very wild ride with you. ❤️

                             ——————————— 

I realize now that it is entirely my fault.

I didn’t mean to forget, it’s just that when I met him, it was a cool autumn day and the wind blew in, carrying a crisp gust and making the leaves on the trees rattle. He pulled on two gloves and fashioned a crooked grin in my direction, with chocolate brown hair and warm eyes that crinkled at the corners. There was a little bit of mystery to him; maybe even a little fun.

I didn’t notice it at first, me falling for him , I mean. The pieces of me shifting, molding and adjusting so I could accommodate the space he started to take up inside of me. It was subtle; a flicker in his eye when he bit a donut, a snort in his laugh when we conned our way into a hotel room together. I started to notice after it was happening and while it was too late. We sat in front of a fireplace on top of a couch that I bought, and we clanked the bottles of beer together. The fire crackled and I was toasty from the outside in, and I started to realize that it was him who put that warmth in me.

The mattress creaks when I roll over, and I wake up before my eyes open. I stretch my fingers out in search of my phone, because I need to know exactly what time it is. I miss my alarm clock, by the way. It was ancient and I mostly just used my phone to wake me up anyway, but it added a little something to the loft, made it homey. I wonder if it could keep it from feeling like a foreign country to me now, wonder if maybe I shouldn’t have thrown it the night I came home and it sank in that he was gone. The alarm clock was just one of the many things that became a casualty in this war with myself.

The mattress creaks with my movement, and I inhale. His pillow hasn’t been washed, so his scent still remains. And I smell it hard; I smell it so hard that it should take up permanent residence in my nostrils.

He must’ve felt me move and realized that I’m awake, because the bed creaks again and the sheets on top of our naked, sticky bodies rustle. He shifts, turns his body so he’s facing me, and his arms drape loosely around my bare shoulders. His lips are soft when they kiss the middle of my back, but I close my eyes and grit my teeth until it’s over.

Winter came around and the shadows that made Alex who he was were back. They hung over his head like icicles waiting to fall, and when he talked to me, he did it from a distance. We didn’t hang out as much as we used to, and his demeanor was cold. Winter was me being shut out, him being isolated. He didn’t tell me what was wrong and he probably didn’t think I cared. Winter was lonely, I finally thought whenever I sat in an empty room and cried at the idea of never seeing him again. Winter is known for being the time when things die, and it was the death of our friendship. It wasn’t until things ended with Jason that I saw the wintertime for exactly what it was, a blizzard of emotions in his own head.

I held his cold hand, thanked him for being the one person I could tell the truth to about what happened between me and Jason. He told me that jealousy made him cold, and I told him it was okay. There were only a few more weeks left of winter and I could taste the burst of fresh air that springtime would bring.

“Good morning, beautiful.” His voice is deep, throaty. It starts from the pit of his stomach and burbles out of his mouth. A glimpse of fuzzy brown hair from the corner of my eye, I make sure my hope melts away when I tell myself it’s not him.

A few more kisses to the middle of my back, then I roll to the other side. The blankets covering me unravel and expose my bare legs, but it’s too much energy to care. I clutch them to my chest, shrug a tuft of my sweaty hair out of my face. His icy blue eyes feel like blades that pierce my skin when he looks at me; blades that jab my eyes when they meet. I look away from him and recoil at the way he tries to brush my hair back with his fingers.

“I have to go to work.”

He pulls his hand away from me as soon as I say that. His face melts into realization, he gets that I’m just trying to get rid of him and I’m glad. He’s disappointed but prompt when he rolls out of my bed, and I don’t watch him when he pulls his clothes back onto his naked body. I don’t know that he leaves until after I hear the door slide open, then slide back shut.

I lie in my bed for a few more moments, soaking up the blunt humiliation over how irresponsible I’d been. He was the fourth guy this week and it’s only Wednesday. I don’t remember his name — I don’t remember any of their names — but I keep going because maybe on Friday I’ll finally find the one who feels exactly like him.

Alex started defrosting when spring was right around the corner. When he hugged me, I felt it. Warm around the edges but still cold in the core, especially when I touched him as we sat watching his father die. Warm around the edges, cold in the core… it was enough to make me love him through it because I knew that summer would be there soon and autumn would come next. I fell in love with the birds chirping over his head, the way he held me close in a tight blue dress and promised me that we’d be together forever. Back against the wood of a barnyard door, it was spring and I remembered how his autumn laugh felt and how his winter snow was pretty.

Spring was the season of promises, the season I realized that he really was my forever. I’d loved lots of springs — men like Jason who were warm but came with little spurts of cold here and there. Lying on the ground struggling to see and tasting nothing but blood in the depths of my mouth, I knew when I saw Paul standing over me that he was winter. Alex was a little bit of everything wrapped up in one — an Indian summer, a snowstorm, a heatwave, a month of pouring rain. He was all of those things, all at the same time, and I was just trying to figure out how that could possibly be. I found him, and I knew the moment I saw him nodding off while I fastened his tie that I was never going to let him go.

Eventually, I climb out of my bed and walk my naked body to the bathroom. I make the shower water a little too hot, a little too burning. I step into it without mercy and it’s the kind of pain that I need. The kind of pain that makes you remember that you are alive and you can feel something.

My skin is red when I sit down, back against the tile wall. I pull my knees up into my chest and stare at the gray bottle that his body wash is in. I stare at his washcloth, still hanging on the rack. I stare at the blue razor rusting on the shelf. I stare at the reminders that he was here once upon a time, and I wonder if I’ll ever be strong enough to throw them out.

“I hope the sun shines, and it’s a beautiful day, and something reminds you, you wish you had stayed…” I whisper to myself, a soft voice lost amongst the water beating down against my skin. “You can plan for a change in weather and time, but I never planned on you changing your mind…”

I close my eyes and put my head against my knees. It’s quiet in here, I find my solitude when I’m in here. I can stay here as long as I want, I’m free to mouth the only lyrics of a Taylor Swift song that I remember. In here… there’s no difference between the water droplets and my tears.

Summer was fire and hot flashes that made me walk around the house naked. He thought I didn’t hear him when I ran to the next room because I didn’t know he had friends over, but I did. I heard him clear as day when he grinned and said, “I’m gonna marry that girl.” Summer was rage and heat, and it’s only exit was through the fists that collided with Andrew’s body. The days were blazing, scorchers that ended with fire rolling off my tongue when I rejected his proposals, flames sparking from his hands as he packed his things to stay at Meredith’s and I begged him to stay.

As summer drew to a close, the nights grew longer and cooler. He looked at me, our bodies gently swaying and rocking to the motion of the waves carrying our boat. He looked at me with that crinkle in his eyes and that goofy smile, and I kissed him. My summer man. I kissed him and his warmth radiated off his lips, I drew it into mine. Summer was hot, I was reminded of that as I stood in front of him and threatened to leave him just for caring about me. He left me alone like I asked him to, but the whole time I thought about how grateful I was to say “I do” to a man like him. I couldn’t wait for autumn to come back around so he could love me without the uncomfortable heat of summer.

When I step out of the shower, I don’t wrap a towel around myself. Instead, I stand in front of the body mirror, dripping a puddle around me.

I stare at myself, head on first, then I turn to the side. I wonder if it’s me. I wonder if maybe he got tired of the love handles on my hips, or the stretch marks on my breasts. I wonder if it’s the weight I gained from the alcohol I drank or if it’s the way tired, weary lines are permanently ingrained in my face now. I even wonder if it’s my hair, you know? Maybe if I cut it short and dye it lighter like I did towards the end of spring, he’d love me with the fiery passion of summertime. I could’ve tried lingerie, different hair, new makeup, a diet plan. I could’ve stopped taking my birth control, started to tell him that he didn’t have to pull out anymore. I could’ve lied on my back and given birth to a gorgeous baby — maybe even paid for a fertility specialist if it was twins that he wanted so badly.

I could’ve tried harder, but he didn’t let me.

Maybe he could come back, but he won’t ever look at me the same. Maybe he’ll look at me the way I look at myself in this mirror, empty eyes that neither love me nor hate me. Empty eyes that are just neutral about the woman he promised he’d love forever.

Autumn rolled back around and I was excited, it was my favorite season. I was all taped up and glued — the best kind of mess — the mess that only intensive therapy could pull me out of. I had a newer outlook on life, a better one even. It was the typical autumn balance of hot and cold when he smiled at me with vampire fangs in his teeth.

You see, the thing I forgot about autumn is that it’s not always warm. Sometimes, autumn is full of days with wind that chills you to your bones.

Autumn is me hugging him at the airport and telling him to have a safe trip home, already missing him before he even left. Autumn is him kissing me and telling me that he loves me, but using those same lips to tell me a lie. Cold are the days when I go back to the loft and look at the way my life has taken a turn for the absolute worst. I need a sweater for the nights when I cry so hard I’m sure I’ll never breathe again, a space heater for the visions of children who look like him, running through green blades of grass with pigtails and cowboy boots. My teeth chatter when I hear him say, “You can trust me. I love you, Jo.” My body is numb when I realize that I actually believed him.

I didn’t mean to, it’s just that when I met him, it was autumn and the wind blew in, carrying a crisp gust and making the leaves on the trees rattle. He pulled on two gloves and fashioned a crooked grin in my direction, with chocolate brown hair and warm eyes that crinkled at the corners. There was a little bit of mystery to him; a whole lot of fun. And I thought to myself, what a great time to fall?

It’s my fault now.

Because I forgot that even autumn days can get cold.

[cilliansaccent]

The Peaky Designer - Cillian Fanfic, Chapter 6

Hello, welcome back. Below is the next instalment of my fanfiction!

Leave a like or a comment if you liked it, or if I can do anything better! Please, it would mean the world and to understand if anyone is enjoying my writing. Also, sharing/reblogging would be even better.

PLEASE READ:

I will not be including Cillian’s family as it’s kinda weird since he has children lmao. Just a mention of his parents and a previous lover.

I will indicate in a chapter if there is smut in the beginning and before the actual scene!!

I will add trigger warnings if there is any!!

There is a variety of levels of swearing during a chapter, I will not hold back, everyone swears.

The timestamp for the Fic is now 2016 and onwards!! 

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Background: Gabrijela Babic is a Croatian girl from Sydney, Australia. She is born in the year 1991 on the 24th of December. She studies a Fashion degree in a University with a major in Game Design as well. Her teacher in the fashion designer class managed to nail an Internship on the set of Peaky Blinders with the shows very own Costume Designer, Allison McCosh. There, she travels to London for under a year to learn how to be one, working alongside the actors as well the man she admires, Cillian Murphy. But, her platonic feelings for the man begins to grow into something more, and she wonders whether she should pursue them or let him go for fear of her strict parents and her three older brothers…

Characters:

Swantje Paulina as Gabrijela Babic (swalina on Instagram)

Cillian Murphy

Word Count: 2,507

!!Warnings!!: Smut at the end. 

Date: March 2016

Chapter Name: It’s Only a One Night Thing

Brief Chapter Outline: Gabrijela heads out for a birthday party with Logan before it ends on a very pleasurable note... 

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From Wednesday onwards, it was crazy. She had never worked so fast nor so busy. Her work back at home she was a full-time sales assistant in a lingerie store, and it wasn't as busy like how she worked here. 

To be honest, she wasn't sure if she was cut out for this type of stressful work. She was exhausted by the afternoon, and she hadn't been able to meet with Cillian much as filming became more intense and scenes had to be adjusted or changed. 

Lunchtime began to be whenever you had the chance to stop and eat, so she had alway's prepared herself the morning coming in. Though Logan managed to catch her during her breaks and they hung out a lot, even after when the day was over she had invited him into her apartment and started on watching Supernatural. 

It was quite nice, being with Logan. They watched well into the night, and both had fallen asleep on the couch with empty bowls from the chips or popcorn she had made for them. Gabrijela felt comfortable around the man, and they didn't shy away from talking about their desires and their life achievements. 

They both had the same issues of trying to impress their strict as hell parents and their decisions on what to do with their life would be a forever damnation, according to Logan's mother and father. 

She giggled at that, and he as well. 

Came Friday evening, Gabrijela was allowed to go home early. But she wanted to find Cillian before she left to see how he was going. 

He was walking off set and she caught his arm gently, "Hi!" She smiled. 

"Hey, Gab. Long-time no sees," They moved out of the way. 

"Indeed." She laughed softly, "I wanted to see how you were going." She asked. 

"Good! Good, never better. But a tad little tired but I'm used to this." He said, pulling off his cap and tucking it into his coat's pocket. 

Another reason why she hadn't seen him much was that they had moved to another city at some point during the week, and then it wasn't any time to talk to him. 

"I see. But you're doing a fantastic job, Cillian." She nodded, eyes shining with admiration. 

"Thank you. You seem like you are going somewhere?" He asked noticing the bag. Cillian had also felt sad he hadn't been able to catch up with her much nor see her, her presence always made him feel good and happy. 

"Yeah. Allison let me off early today, said I deserved a bit of an early mark." She giggled. "I wanted to tell you that in case you got worried if I wasn't around later." 

"Oh thank you for telling me that. Appreciate it." He also appreciated her kindness and her genuine self. She had always brought him coffee in the morning, or his favourite sandwich for later in the day. It was the little things she did for him that made him like her even more. 

"But call me later, okay?" She gripped his gloved hand. 

"Always. Hey, before you go, did you want to go to dinner tomorrow maybe? Or we could go to a gig or..." He offered as he trailed off. 

She pouted, "I'd love to but I'm going to Logan's birthday tomorrow night. How about Sunday?" She asked. 

"Party? Huh, okay. Yeah, we can do Sunday then. I'll call you tomorrow again for the details." He said, "Where are you going for the party?" 

"Uh, it's somewhere near Trafalgar Square it seems. I forgot the exact place." She shrugged. 

"You be safe, hm? Don't want you getting into any trouble." He pulled her into a hug and she wrapped her arms around him. 

He was so warm and smelled so fucking good. She couldn't help but bury her face into his neck a little. "I will, I promise." She murmured, he squeezed her gently. 

They pulled away and she kissed his cheek lightly and turned to walk away. 

Cillian placed a hand on his cheek, his smile growing. This girl was rubbing off on him and he couldn't help but become worried about her. He remembered what happened last time he took her out and he wasn't to close with the Logan boy she talked about. Or did he know about his circle. 

But Cillian couldn't fret over her too much or it would seem like he was overpowering her. But he would keep an eye out on her. 

Cillian headed off to get ready for the next scene. 

Saturday Night...

Gabrijela had her hair in a high ponytail. Her chosen outfit for tonight was a black mini skirt with a black long sleeve mesh top with golden stars. She had a simple bra for it. 

She was putting make-up on when her phone rang, she pressed the answer button without looking, "Hello?" 

"Hey Gabrijela," Cillian replied. 

"Oh hi, Cilly." She felt her heart jump. It always did when she talked to him. 

"How are you?" He asked it sounded like he was driving somewhere. 

"I'm alright. Getting ready." She said as she applied her eyeliner on. 

"Oh that's right, you're going out tonight." He mused. "Excited?" 

"I guess so. It's not my first time clubbing, but a first in London." She smiled as she concentrated on putting on her fake eyelashes. 

"You sure you don't want me to come?" He kidded. 

She let out a heavy sigh, "Cillian, I'm gonna punch you when I see you next." 

"Joking! God, don't get so antsy." He mocked, but she could hear the smile in his voice. 

"It's up to you if you want to come, it doesn't bother me. But I don't know about Logan." She said casually. She kinda hoped he would come. 

"Nah. I'm gonna have a night into myself, have some red wine, listen to music and have some cheese." He said with relief. "Been a long week." 

"It has. And you deserve it. Besides, we'll have tomorrow together. I can't wait to see Bath." She said with clear enthusiasm. 

"Good. It's a beautiful town." He said, "You'll definitely love it." 

She saw a message said that Logan was walking down, "Hey I gotta go. I have to get dressed." She said as she added finishing touches to her face. 

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow, have fun." He said and hung up. 

Gabrijela changed into her outfit, sprayed on her favourite Tommy Girl perfume and pulled up her thigh high heeled boots. 

She grabbed her jacket and her sparkly bag and headed down when Logan called her he was here. 

Logan was dressed in a casual but nice outfit, black jeans and a tucked-in blue with a mixture of a green, red and white floral patterned shirt. His black hair was combed back and curled at the nape of his neck. 

He whistled when he saw Gabrijela, "Wow." He said as they embraced, "You are so fucking gorgeous." 

She laughed, "Thanks man, you look dashing as well." She nodded as she checked him out as he did a little turn with wide arms. 

"One sexy Scottish boy on the menu. Ready to mingle." He flashed a perfect smile. 

She blushed and he called an Uber, a couple of minutes later they piled in and off they went to the club. 

The club was underground and the music was electric, pumping a hard beat. People danced, some grinding against each other no matter who it was. 

Just like home, she thought with a slight shake of her head. She was used to this type of things, as the majority of the young people in clubs, they're looking for a quick fuck. 

Gabrijela had never had a 'quick fuck' with anyone, guy or girl. Just foreplay and that was where she drew the line. She couldn't think of someone being buried within her, especially when she had thoughts that drifted back to her ex. 

Her parents still to this day didn't know the mental abuse she endured through the prick, not even her best friend nor her friends knew about it. Gab worked her way through the pain after the messy break-up, she took counsel on her own and in secret. It helped to ease off the shit of her shoulders, but still, she would remember the dark nights. 

Silence was not the key but she didn't want to dwell on it now, or ever. She was a free girl and she would find someone who would love her as she was, appreciate her body and her emotions. 

Sitting with the group of friends Logan had invited, the drinks began to slide through. She chatted and laughed with the ones around and even danced with the girls. 

Tonight was good, she agreed, no one seemed to brush up against her or pester her. Everyone was in their own world and in their own groups, having the time of their life. 

More drinks, shots, anything. 

Then it was time to move on, the rules here were not as strict as in Australia so by midnight they had gone to four different pubs. Gabrijela had taken easy on the drinks but she could feel the alcohol messing with her head a little. 

Logan had watched her all night and wouldn't leave her side. In their last pub of the night, they were all over each other. Their lips in a heated lock of tongue and teeth. 

Cillian had been in the same club with a few of his mates, drinking and chatting about home. He had seen Gabrijela enter with the group, and had to watch her suck face with the damn Set Designer. He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealously wash through him. He thought back to when he had his fingers inside her, the way her lips felt on his and the sounds he managed to drag out. 

Now Logan would have to hear those very sounds, and Cillian did not like that. 

But what could he do about it? He wasn't going to go there and break them up, for what? Because he was annoyed that Gabrijela may end up in bed with the boy and not him? 

Logan's hand went up her skirt, and Cillian picked up that thrust of her chest. He knew the boy found her treasure. 

Gabrijela pulled back and whispered something to him and his smirk grew as they got up. Logan parted ways with his group and left the pub with an arm around his- around Gabrijela. Cillian's heart squeezed. 

She was young, and she was to be with someone her age. Someone who wasn't going to be an old man in a few years, who wouldn't be able to keep up with her needs. 

But he couldn't help but feel jealous. 

Back in the Apartment...

They laid on the bed, Logan above her and holding her close as he touched her breasts and played with her pink, hard nipples. 

Her soft moans filled the air and he kissed her neck, "Gabe." He murmured and helped her pull off his shirt. 

Gabrijela admired the hard planes of his stomach, letting her fingers brush down his chiselled chest and to his belt buckle. 

Was Logan going to be the one to break her drought of proper sex? She hoped so, he was like a Greek God of some sort.

Well, Scottish God. 

She giggled, "Fuck you're so hot." She moaned as she undid his belt. 

"And so are you." He murmured, his long fingers yanked off her top, and then her bra. Better access now. 

"I want you." She moaned as his fingers flicked her nipples. 

"I'm all yours, beautiful." He said as his jeans joined the clothing on the floor. 

They helped each other undress whatever remaining clothing they had, and she was now laid on the bed, bare. 

His dark blue eyes roved over her body, Gabrijela was not entirely skinny. She had some curve and thickness to her body. But it made her all the most beautiful. 

Gab looked down his god-like body and the huge, thick cock that wanted some attention. "Lay on your back." She said to him. 

He nodded and did so as she moved between his legs. With a hand, she gripped him, with her other she began to touch herself. 

"Oh... Gab..." He sucked in a breath as she began to pump him slowly. She gripped him tight enough that it felt like he was inside something. His eyes shot to what she was doing between her legs and he let out a loud groan. 

She moved her hand faster, "Logan, you are so big. Holy fuck." She pushed two fingers in herself and moaned. 

"Mhm. I hope I can fit in ya." He chuckled breathlessly. 

She smiled, "Of course you will." She said, "But I want you to cum first when I do this." She leaned down and took him into her mouth. 

She sucked lightly on his head and she saw his fingers curl into her bedsheets. She began to take him right to the base. He was deep in her throat. 

"Holy fuck." He gasped, "No one- Oh fuck!" He couldn't talk as she bobbed her head. 

Her mouth was warm and tight, and she took him like a pro. Logan was close already, he was sensitive when he was drunk. 

Gabrijela fingered herself fast, moaning loudly around his shaft. She only pulled back to breathe before she went back to sucking him off. She went faster, eyes shut and for some reason she imagined Cillian. 

Logan let out a cry, his hand in her hair as he came inside her mouth. His load was thick and heavy before she gagged and came as well. 

She pulled back hastily, a bit of his cum leaking down her chin. "Logan." She pulled out her fingers and brought them to his lips so he could taste. 

"I want to ride you now." She said, moving to straddle his hips. 

"Ride me all night long." He said and held her hips. 

But she had paused above him, his cock in her hand and poised to go in. Her heart hammered in her chest, she suddenly felt... Unsure. The whole situation wasn't right despite how clouded her mind was. 

"Gabrijela?" Logan's gruff voice brought her back to reality, "You alright?" 

She looked at him, concern was in his eyes. She could see he was not going to hurt her, there was no malice in his eyes. She could do this. She was going to do this. She can. Screw that fucker. 

"Perfectly fine." She said with a dazzling smile and pushed him into her. 

They both let out a moan as he sat up and wrapped his arms around her. 

She did what she wanted to do and rode him all night with him finishing it off with him on top. 

They both fell asleep in a tangle of arms and legs well into the early mornings. 

[searchingwardrobes]

Your Love is a Song

Happy Birthday, @let-it-raines ! For anyone who doesn’t know, Raines is an amazing writer and an all around sweet person. I was honored to have her as my Captain Swan Secret Santa, not only because she gifted me with an absolutely perfect fic but also because chatting with her was a blast. I am so blessed to have come to know her as a friend. I hope you have a fantastic day, Raines!

I got a prompt on Ao3 from a reader with the user name Adidas. Sweetie, wherever you are, I hope you read this because I don’t know your tumblr url or even if you have one. Anyway, the prompt was that Emma used to be into music but stopped. Then she meets musician Killian, and her family notices she’s started playing again. I wasn’t sure I could do the prompt justice since I am only a lover of music and not a musician myself, but then I was listening to the Switchfoot song “Your Love is a Song,” and this came to me. I was also working on Raines present, and it just all seemed to come together!

Summary: Emma Swan is having a pretty horrible night when she hears the voice: gravelly, sultry, with a touch of melancholy, accompanied by an acoustic guitar. She’s never heard the song before, but after that night, she won’t be able to get it out of her head. Or the dark haired, blue eyed man singing it.

Rated M, but only for brief mentions of nudity. It’s really light M with no smut, but I wanted to ere on the side of caution.

Words: 4,500 or so

Also on Ao3 and part of my Fandom Birthday Playlist

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kday426 @winterbaby89 @teamhook @bethacaciakay @thislassishooked @tiganasummertree @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @optomisticgirl @wellhellotragic @welllpthisishappening @branlovestowrite @shireness-says @distant-rose

Emma is bone weary, her dress is too tight, and she broke a heel chasing her latest skip. She’s walking barefoot through downtown Boston, which can’t be good. She had to run three blocks to catch the guy who – oh yeah – spilled wine all over her only nice dress. They were only a block from the nearest precinct, so she’d cuffed him and hauled him in on foot. Only now she’s trudging four blocks barefoot to get back to her Bug.

She’s leaning against the nearest storefront to massage her aching feet (they weren’t particularly happy with the stilettos in the first place) when she hears it. A voice; gravelly, sultry, with a touch of melancholy, accompanied by an acoustic guitar.

The dawn is fire bright against the city lights. The clouds are glowing now. The moon is blacking out.

The lyrics catch her attention too: poetic and speaking of a hope that’s belied by the tortured voice of the singer. He’s good too, whoever he is, with a voice that is powerful and melodic. Like a sailor drawn by a siren, Emma follows the music into the small, smoky bar. It’s one of those places below street level, the type of dive bar that locals swear by and tourists don’t know about. The source of the music is there, alone, in the corner of the bar. The place is too small and unpretentious for a stage, the crowd thin even for one in the morning on a weeknight. With her small clutch in one hand, and her broken heels in the other, she slides on to a stool at the bar, eyes glued to the dark-haired man singing in the corner.

When the bartender approaches, she asks for a beer and stays only long enough to finish it and hear one more song. She worries it’s the type of place where the bartender tries at being a part time therapist, but he leaves her alone. He can probably sense she’s not having the best night: her attire and the smell of wine saturating her dress screams bad date. Of course, who has good dates on a Wednesday night?

On second thought, maybe the bartender thinks she’s a hooker in her honey-trap dress. Oh well, like she ever cares what people think. (And it shows just how much of an idiot her skip was that he didn’t stop and think why a woman would be willing to hook up on a week night.)

She finishes her beer, pays the bartender, then rises to leave. The last notes of Pearl Jam’s “Better Man” linger behind her as she leaves, yet it’s the song that drew her into the bar in the first place that keeps haunting her mind. Even after a warm bath and her soft bed. For some reason, it fills up her apartment with a lonely cry.

********************************************************

Emma’s not entirely thrilled when Graham calls her the next day with some bull shit about paper work for the night before. She’s pretty sure it’s a thinly veiled excuse to ask her out. Again.

It is.

Prickly as she is, Emma still doesn’t take pleasure in turning the man down yet again. He’s nice and all, but . . . well, that just might be the problem. At any rate, she’s dragged herself out of bed for no purpose but to stomp on a nice man’s heart.

So maybe that’s why she stops in front of the bar. Maybe. She knows it probably won’t be open yet, and it isn’t, but she can at least scan the posters of musical acts littering the door. She startles when the door swings open.

“May I help you? We don’t open until after lunch . . . “

It’s the bartender from last night, and he’s narrowing his blue eyes at her with suspicion. She wonders if he recognizes her.

“Of course,” she says with a wave of her hand, “I was just looking for a musician on your posters. I stopped in for a beer last night, and he was really good -”

“Oh, . . that’s just my brother,” the man tells her. “Killian fills in on weeknights. We’re just a local dive, you know, and we can’t afford to pay for acts every blessed night.”

She realizes then he has a British accent, and she assumes his brother does too. Funny how you can rarely tell a person has an accent when they’re singing. Country music notwithstanding.

At least the bartender’s smiling at her now. “I remember you. Red dress, right?”

“Yeah,” Emma chuckles, tugging at the ends of her hair, “it had been a long night.”

He nods, humming in solidarity. “We all have those from time to time. It’s what bars are for, am I right?”

“One reason I guess,” Emma says with a shrug of one shoulder.

“Well, come again,” he says, easing back into the doorway, “on another week night if you like my brother.”

She opens her mouth to clarify that last statement, but the door is already closed.

*******************************************************

Emma tries to stay away from the bar, she really does. Especially because of the way the bartender could have meant the whole “if you like my brother” comment. If he actually mentioned her to said brother, it would be all kinds of humiliating.

Yet here she is, nursing a beer at one in the morning again. The brother – Killian – is indeed once again strumming his guitar in the corner, playing “Pictures of You” by The Cure. She tries not to stare, but the intense way he closes his eyes as his lips practically caress the microphone is too mesmerizing. She practically jumps when his brother addresses her.

“Another beer?”

“Oh,” Emma mutters, flustered as she gazes down into her empty mug, “uh, yeah.”

He regards her with almost amusement as he takes it, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he fills it at the tap.

“I didn’t mention you, if that’s what’s worrying you,” he tells her.

Her eyes widen and she feels warmth creep up her neck. “Um . . . thanks.”

He’s chuckling and shaking his head as he walks away, and Emma begins to wish she’d never come. Until Killian transitions to another song – the song.

I hear you breathing in. Another day begins. The stars are falling out. My dreams are fading now, fading out.

It’s all she can do not to close her eyes as the words wash over her. Though she does find herself humming as she finishes her beer and the song winds to a close. Killian says into the mic that he’s taking a break, and that jolts Emma out of her reverie.

She’s out the door before his guitar is back in its case.

When she gets home, she strides to her bed, not a trace of hesitation within her. She gets down on her knees and reaches underneath to pull out the hard case, running her hand longingly across it before flipping open the latches. She lifts the lid and exhales long and slow, just gazing at the acoustic Epiphone nestled in red velour. She takes it out almost reverently, settles on to the floor, and situates it on her knees.

The first strum is like a flame flickering back to life.

********************************************************

Emma comes to a complete stop in the middle of the bar the next night, frozen in place amidst the Friday night crowd. Friday night – shit, she’s an idiot! His brother said he only played on weeknights, and everyone knows Friday night kicks off the weekend. So of course, Killian is behind the bar, smiling at a flirty brunette, and over in the corner are a pair of women with guitars doing their best Indigo Girls impression. Emma thinks of turning and fleeing, but before she can, Killian turns in her direction, and his eyes meet hers. If she were the type, she would swear it was one of those moments in rom-coms when everything else in the room gets fuzzy and time slows down.

But she isn’t. The type, that is.

Leaving would be too obvious, though, so she gives him a nervous smile and approaches the bar. Up close, he’s even more handsome, and she can now see that his eyes are blue. Extremely blue. His brother’s were blue, so she should have figured, but Killian’s eyes. Damn. They make his brother’s seem colorless by comparison.

“So we finally meet,” he says, extending a hand. “Killian Jones.”

“Emma Swan,” she tells him as she takes his hand. And maybe there’s a spark, but again, she’s not that type. “Your brother told me he didn’t say anything.”

Killian cocks his head. “Liam?”

“So that’s his name.”

“Aye, but – why would he say anything?”

Emma’s face is on fire, and maybe leaving wouldn’t have been so bad. “You know – about me showing up Thursday morning looking for your music flyer.” She gestures in a ridiculous way towards the door.

“You did?” His broad grin makes her feel slightly less idiotic.

“I did,” she admits, “but you didn’t have to know that embarrassing detail, did you?”

He leans on the bar and chuckles. “I noticed you Wednesday night.”

“You did?”

“Why do you think I played Better Man?”

“Um, I don’t follow.”

“You came in with your heels in your hand, a wine stain on your dress, and a scowl on your face. Anyone who would leave you in such a state is clearly a jerk or an idiot or both. So . . . Better Man.”

He stands then, crossing his arms over his chest, and Emma notices how toned they are. She’d noticed as he strummed his guitar, but up close it looks even better. His head is cocked, one eyebrow raised, and a smirk tilts his lips. The cocky bastard.

“Let me guess,” Emma deadpans, leaning across the bar. His gaze flits to her cleavage, and she flashes a smirk of her own, “you’re that better man?”

“I could be,” he quips, his tongue swiping at his lower lip.

She rolls her eyes. “Well, I hate to devastate your ego, but you’re not the reason I keep coming back.”

Now he waggles those eyebrows, and she can’t help the brief chuckle that escapes her lips. “Oh no?”

“No. It was the song.”

He leans close again. “Which one, love?”

“Not your love. And it was the one you were playing Wednesday night when I first came in.”

“Aww, I see. And what’s it worth to you?”

She props her chin in her hand. “You do know there’s this thing called Google.”

“Yet here you are.”

She presses her lips together in a thin line. “You didn’t seem so full of it when you were playing your guitar.”

He laughs then, completely self-depracating, and she hates how it makes her heart flip. Then he tilts his head at her and pouts like a five-year-old, and that makes a traitorous smile fill up her face.

“Just that you’ll come back next time I play, Swan, that’s all I’m asking.”

She rolls her eyes again. “Fine, done. Now – the song.”

“It’s a Switchfoot song,” he says softly, all trace of flirting gone as he leans against the bar again, “one of my favorites. It’s called Your Love is a Song.”

Her breath hitches involuntarily at the intensity in his eyes. Someone yells for the bartender, and Killian yells back for them to wait a damn minute.

“You better go,” she tells him in a breathy whisper. She’s really piling up the rom com cliches tonight.

He sighs, but goes to serve the customer. The second his back is turned, she’s gone without evening ordering a drink.

When she gets home, she pulls out her guitar, this time settling cross legged on her bed. She finds the song online, with the chords, and starts to pick out the tune. She stays up most of the night before she gets it, her skills a bit rusty.

I’ve been keeping my eyes wide open. I’ve been keeping my eyes wide open.

*******************************************************

She waits until Monday night to return to the bar, and Killian is once again in the corner with his guitar. His eyes find her as she walks in the door, and he winks even as he continues to croon Free’s “All Right Now.” Instead of sitting at the bar, she takes a booth in his line of sight, and orders a beer once again from a red headed waitress. She could say she isn’t giving him sex eyes over the rim of her mug, but she’d be lying.

“This one’s for the blonde in the corner.”

And it’s her song. Your love is a symphony. All around me, running through me. She can’t help singing along under her breath, and when it ends, he stands.

“Sorry folks, but it’ll have to be the jukebox for the rest of the night.”

She can’t help the beaming smile that fills her face at his words, and her heart beats triple time when he puts away his guitar and saunters over.

“May I?”

“You may,” she says with a flip of her hair over her shoulder, and God, could she be any more cliché?

“How are you tonight, Emma?”

She shrugs coyly. “I’m better now.”

“Now that you’ve heard your song?”

She nods as she takes a sip of her beer. “I learned it last night. Took me hours, but I did it.”

His eyebrows raise in admiration. “You play?”

“It’s been awhile,” she says, “but yes.”

“I would be in a dark place if not for my music.”

She looks into his eyes, so sincere and intense. It’s as if he’s opened a door, inviting her in, fully

knowing she might not take it.

“When I was sixteen,” she begins slowly, running her finger through the condensation on her mug, “my foster mother bought an Epiphone for me from a pawn shop for Christmas. No one had ever done that for me before.”

“Bought you a present?”

Emma nods, the understanding in his voice giving her courage. “Not only that, but actually asking what I wanted for Christmas to begin with and then actually listening. She even payed for lessons.”

“I started playing around the same time,” Killian says, leaning back in the booth, “it helps during lonely adolescence, doesn’t it?”

Emma smiles and shrugs. “Cheesy I guess, but yes.”

He laughs lightly, and Emma finds that she loves the sound.

“Anyways, Ruth, that was her name, she encouraged me in my music. She and my foster brother David came any time I did talent shows and stuff. Then, when I put together a horrible garage band, they came to all our gigs.”

“So why did you stop?”

“Someone told me it was dumb, and I listened,” Emma lifts one shoulder to brush it off, though Neal’s biting words still echo in her mind. “He was right in a way. I wasn’t good enough to make a career out of it. And I’m good at what I do now . . . I like it -”

“Emma,” Killian cuts her off gently, placing a hand over hers, “just because art isn’t your career doesn’t mean its dumb or that it can’t be part of your life. If playing brings you joy, then play. Don’t let anyone stop you.”

His words are like a warm bath on an icy cold day. Ruth and David, even Mary Margaret and Ruby, have told her the same time and again. But for some reason, coming from Killian, a man with such talent in his voice and in his hands, it means so much more.

They continue to talk over drinks, the time going by much faster than Emma can believe. Before they know it, it’s closing time. Liam is berating Kilian for flirting instead of playing, but the smile on his face tempers his words.

Killian walks her to her car, and when he kisses her, she practically melts against the side of the Bug. Her hands tremble with want as she slides them up his chest, past his shoulders, finding stability when she digs her fingers into his hair. The melody of her song plays in her ears.

“Will you go to dinner with me,” he whispers against her lips.

She can barely collect herself enough to speak, but she does say yes. The next two weeks go by in a haze of bliss, with both lunch and dinner dates, and many hours at his and Liam’s bar. And any time she isn’t with him or working, she’s finding solace with her guitar.

************************************************

Emma is leaning against the sofa in her living room, her guitar once again on her lap, her tablet propped up on the coffee table as she strums through the chords of a new song she’s learning. It’s another one Killian had played at the bar. The verses are giving her trouble, but once she gets to the chorus, she belts it out, her eyes closed. When she gets to the next verse, she opens them to glance at the chords and screams when she sees a figure looming out of the corner of her eye.

“Shit, David,” she gasps, pressing a hand to her heart, “you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Well, you weren’t answering your door,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest in that pose of brotherly intimidation.

“And you couldn’t hear me playing?” she grumbles, putting her guitar back in its case and rising to her feet. “I gave you that key for emergencies only.”

David gives her a side hug and a kiss to her temple. “Well, you not answering the door classifies as an emergency.” Then he grins broadly, setting his hands at her shoulders. “But you’re playing again, that’s great! What changed?”

She bites her lip as she feels a traitorous blush rise to her cheeks. “I just . . . felt like it was time.”

He narrows his eyes at her. “Mhm, right Emma. And what else?”

“You know,” Emma says, stepping around him, “MM and Ruby are waiting for us at the restaurant.”

*****************************************************

“Emma’s playing again.”

The table falls silent as her friends turn to her with joyful expressions.

“That’s great!” Mary Margaret exclaims.

“But she won’t tell me what inspired her,” David adds, “and I know something’s up with her.”

“Why would you think that?”

“You haven’t been around much lately.”

“He’s got a point,” Ruby says, then her eyes widen and she gasps. “You met someone, didn’t you?”

“I . . . um . . . why would you think that?”

Ruby points at her, “Aha, see! You’re stumbling over your words, and your face is bright red.”

“Okay, so I did, but it’s not a big deal.”

“Oh Emma,” Mary Margaret breaths, “that’s wonderful!”

“Now slow down, MM, it’s only been a few dates.”

“How’s the sex?” Ruby asks, and David groans.

“There’s only been kissing,” Emma clarifies, shooting daggers at her blunt friend.

“What’s his name? How did you meet?” Mary Margaret is much too giddy, her chin resting on her fisted hands eagerly.

Emma sighs and tells them the whole story, starting with hearing him singing in the bar and not being able to get the song out of her head. Ruby and Mary Margaret are practically swooning while David is scowling.

“I need to meet this guy.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Don’t go all overprotective on me, David.”

“Well, I’m your brother, it’s part of the job description. “

“What was it?” Mary Margaret asks, ignoring her husband.

“What was what?”

She rolls her eyes. “The song. What was it?”

“It’s by Switchfoot. Your Love is a Song.”

Mary Margaret lets out a little gasp and presses her fingers to her lips as tears well up in her eyes. “Oh, that’s so beautiful! It’s fate!”

Emma eyes her warily as she hands her a tissue. “Slow down, MM, this isn’t a rom com.”

She waves her hand in front of her face as she dabs at her nose with the tissue. “I’m sorry. Pregnancy hormones.”

And suddenly the table erupts in another round of emotions with Emma and Ruby trying to hug Mary Margaret at the same time. Thankfully, the attention is off Emma. For now.

********************************************************

There’s a knock at Emma’s door the next night, and she’s surprised to see Killian standing there with grocery sacks in his arms. She tilts her head in confusion.

“I thought I was meeting you at the bar.”

“Aye, that was the plan,” he looks at her hesitantly, “until your brother showed up a little while ago to give me the third degree. You never mentioned he was a detective with the Boston PD. A mite intimidating.”

Emma groans. “Oh my God, I am so sorry! He gets a little . . . overprotective.”

Killian chuckles. “I can relate. Liam tends to be the same. At any rate, David parked himself in a corner booth and informed me he would be staying there to keep an eye on you. All night.”

Emma liftes her hands to her temple and massages her brow. “For the love of God, David!”

“So, I thought we could either hang out with both our big brothers watching, or I could come over and cook you dinner. In privacy.”

A flirtatious grin fills Emma’s face. “Now that sounds like a plan.”

With an eager smile of his own, Killian comes in and heads for her kitchen. She closes the door and sags against it, watching him unload the ingredients he brought over. It’s so domestic, and feels so right, and suddenly words to the song – their song runs through her head.

With my eyes wide open, I’ve got my eyes wide open, I’ve been keeping my hopes unbroken.

That’s the feeling sweeping through her – hope.

*****************************************************

As Emma stumbles backwards into her room and almost trips on a pair of shoes in the middle of the floor, she vaguely thinks that maybe she should have straightened up in here while Killian was cooking. But he doesn’t seem to care about her mess as he kicks the shoes out of their way and maneuvers her to the bed. Emma giggles against his lips as she falls backwards. He catches himself before he can fall on top of her, his hands braced on either side of her. He’s grinning wider than she’s ever seen, almost goofily, his hair a riotous mess. And in that moment, she knows.

She grasps his biceps lightly, caressing the muscle with her thumbs. “I love you,” she says, amazed that it doesn’t terrify her.

He waggles his eyebrows. “I know.”

She groans and rolls her eyes, more giggles falling from her lips. He swallows them with more kisses.

“That was so cheesy, Killian.”

“Was it?” he mumbles as he kisses a path down her neck. She digs her fingers into his hair and tugs so she can look into his eyes. They’re dark blue with desire. He nuzzles his nose with hers and speaks against her lips. “I have loved you since the moment you walked into the bar.”

“There’s no such thing as love at first sight, Killian.”

“Well I hate to tell you love, but that’s how it happened.”

She laughs again as she tightens her arms around his neck.

*****************************************************

“You still haven’t played for me,” Killian mumbles against the bare skin of her back, trailing kisses as he speaks. They are both sated and content, Emma wrapped up in his arms, her back to his chest.

“I can’t,” she protests, distracted when he lifts her hair to kiss the nape of her neck, delicious tingles running down her spine.

“Why not?”

She turns in his arms and buries her face in his chest. “Because you’re too good, and I’m . . . not.”

He kisses the top of her head, then lifts her chin gently. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

He kisses her once more on the forehead, then rises from the bed as if it’s decided. He goes to the corner where her guitar is propped up, then brings it back, holding it out like an offering. She sits up in bed, the sheets pooling at her waist.

“Do you think the offer is more appealing because you’re stark naked right now?”

He gins salaciously. “Perhaps.”

She shakes her head, messy curls falling across her forehead, but she reaches out for the guitar nonetheless. “Should I put some clothes on?” she wonders before she settles the guitar in her lap.

“Please no,” Killian pouts, “a beautiful woman playing the guitar in the nude has always been a fantasy of mine.”

Emma laughs, shaking the hair out of her face. “Okay, that’s rather specific.”

“Humor me, Swan.”

She winks at him, and his answering smile calms the butterflies in her stomach. Still, she closes her eyes and breaths in through her nose, her nerves still on edge. Her eyes fly open.

“What should I play?”

“Our song, of course,” he tells her softly.

“Right.”

A peace steals over her as she strums the first few chords. She closes her eyes as she begins to sing: I hear you breathing in. Another day begins. The stars are falling out. My dreams are fading now, fading out. I’ve been keeping my eyes wide open. I’ve been keeping my eyes wide open.

When she begins the chorus, Killian joins her, and the harmony of their voices together is more breathtaking than she ever could have imagined.

Your love is a symphony. All around me. Running through me. Your love is a melody. Underneath me. Running to me. Your love is a song.

Killian goes quiet again as she sings the second verse, but now she’s singing out strong, with power. His belief in her, his support of her, giving her voice strength.

The dawn is fire bright against the city lights. The clouds are glowing now. The moon is blacking out. I’ve been keeping my mind wide open. I’ve been keeping my mind wide open. Your love is a song.

By this time, tears are streaming down her cheeks, and she isn’t sure why. Killian gently takes the guitar out of her hands, and sets it carefully on the floor by the bed. Then he takes her in his arms, lowering her to the bed, and kisses all of her tears away. He cups her face tenderly as her eyes flutter open, her tears spent.

“I love you, Emma Swan. And you’re bloody brilliant, amazing.”

A year later, they sing the song – their song – at their wedding in exchange of vows. It may not be traditional, but in the lyrics is the very story of their love.

Your love is as symphony.

Your love is a melody.

Your love is a song.

[hot-tae-with-suga]

This Looks Bad || 3

Summary:  Taehyung and I were just horsing around, but someone took a picture, and now everyone thinks I’m cheating on my boyfriend Namjoon with one of his best friends. Which I’m not, because I don’t (let myself) think of Tae that way. And neither does Namjoon. Right?

Reader (1st person unnamed femme OC)/Namjoon/Taehyung

Idol AU

36.2K total || Rated M || Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3 || Masterlist

Genre: fluff / smut / angst with happy ending || Warnings: Misunderstandings, Failure to Communicate, Bisexual characters, Threesome, Smut 

Originally Posted 2019-03-29 

Thank you so so so much to my editor S, and my wonderful betas from the JAG discord (L, V, and D)

45 Days P.I. (10 days after deciding to give it a chance)

By the next Wednesday, I was a nervous wreck again. This time over my thesis defense, rather than the relationship issues that had been plaguing me for weeks.

I had prepared as much as I could, spending hours memorizing the smallest details of my results and analysis, and practicing answering potential panel questions with Namjoon on the phone. I knew I was as ready as I could be, but I was still pacing outside the door to the conference room when Joon and Tae arrived.

They each had hats, sunglasses, and masks on, which wasn't an unusual look for students, but they both had that confident air about them that drew onlookers’ eyes. Thankfully the mathematics building wasn't a particularly popular destination, so they were unlikely to be noticed.

Namjoon pulled down his mask and gave me a quick kiss, and Tae hugged me with a tight squeeze.

"We're not too late, are we? You haven't gone in already?" Namjoon asked, noting the empty seats that had been set up outside the conference room for participants to wait.

I shook my head. "No, you're just in time. The last student ran a little late and just got their verdict, so my panel just got inside to settle in. They should be calling me in-" I was interrupted by the conference room door opening and my advisor beckoning me inside.

"Are you ready?" she asked as I got closer, and I nodded. "And these two are with you?" Her eyebrows shot up when she realized who I had brought with me. She'd known I was dating Namjoon, but it had never really come up between us, as he hadn't had any reason to visit me on campus before.

The four of us walked into the room and Namjoon squeezed my hand tight before releasing it to take a seat with Taehyung at the far end of the long table, while my advisor and I went to the other end, where a podium had been set up. The panel for my thesis, 4 tenured professors from my and other local universities, plus my advisor, ignored the audience and turned to me, asking if I was ready.

The next hour and a half was a haze in my memory; I only knew it was tough but my nearly obsessive preparation had paid off. I was able to mostly answer every question, and my advisor smiled proudly by the time I was wrapping up.

Once my defense was concluded, I stepped outside with Namjoon and Taehyung so the panel could deliberate and make their decision. I was warned it might take as long as half an hour, or even more, so I returned to pacing the hall.

"Babe, don't worry! You did amazing in there," Namjoon assured me, grabbing me by both hands in an attempt to make me stop walking and start to calm down.

"Yah, noona, you sounded so smart. The guys in there looked super impressed," Tae added. "I didn't really understand what you were talking about, to be fair, but math has never been my strong suit."

"Statistics, Tae-ah," I corrected. "Not math. Well, kind of math, but also sometimes not really?" Between the two of them they pulled me over to the uncomfortable chairs and sat me down with one of them on each side, physically restraining me from getting back up or even from anxiously bouncing my leg.

The panel only deliberated for twenty minutes in the end, and we were all invited back in. We resumed the positions we'd occupied before we'd left, with them seated at the end of the table and me behind the podium.

As soon as I heard the words, "We have determined that you have passed this defense and you will be awarded your doctorate in statistical mathematics," the rest of what the panel chair was saying faded into static. I could see Joon's giant grin and my advisor's proud smile, so I knew he was complimenting me, but I couldn't hear it over the rushing in my ears.

I shook each of the panelists’ hands and thanked them for their time and effort. The last one in the line, Dr. Jeong, a man in his 40's who I had only met once when he was introduced as a member of my panel, stopped me as I moved toward the door. "Don't tell me you'll sneak out before introducing your guests, miss?" he said slyly, and I knew he must have recognized my boyfriends. They'd removed their disguises, since sitting in a stuffy room for an hour and a half was torture enough. Plus, it had made it easier for me to see their encouraging faces as I answered the panel's questions.

I bowed and made introductions, the eldest panelist in the room obviously unaware of exactly who Namjoon and Taehyung were to their endless amusement. My advisor quietly asked them for their autographs, which they added to the page she'd been using for notes during my questioning, a fact that I found strangely amusing.

"You must be very proud," Dr. Jeong said to Namjoon, nodding in my direction. "She's a compliment to your own impressive intellect. I was quite a fan of yours when you appeared on Problematic Man, you know."

The way he said it struck me as strange, and it must have done to Namjoon as well, as he replied with, "She’s smart enough for both of us. I might be able to solve a few problems on a silly game show, but her mind blows me away every single day." He spoke to the professor, but his eyes were on me. "I'm so proud and amazed by what she's accomplished, and most of the time I count my lucky stars that she's with a dummy like me." I smiled at his compliment, and we bid the panel goodbye and took our leave.

As soon as we were out of the hallway and headed for the main staircase, Namjoon started muttering as he put his mask back on. "Can you believe that guy? I was ready to punch him!"

I was shocked to hear him speak that way, as was Taehyung, both of us looking to Namjoon for further explanation. "What do you mean? Which guy? One of the panelists?"

"Dr. Jeong," Namjoon bit out. "I'm pretty sure he was trying to insinuate that I helped you with your thesis or something."

“Yeah, that guy was weird,” Taehyung agreed. “You’ve been working on the background for your thesis project since before you even met Joon-hyung.” He grabbed my hand and quickly kissed the back of it while we were still alone, giving me a proud smile.

I reviewed the conversation in my memory, shaking my head. "I'm sure he wasn't," I tried to placate them. "I think he was just trying to impress you by showing that he knew more about you than just your name, or something."

Namjoon put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer as we approached the doors out of the building. "If you say so, babe. Just, I dunno, don't take a position in his department, if he offers?" I rolled my eyes at his overprotective nature but nodded. "In any case, he continued, "we should celebrate. What do you say we all go out to dinner tomorrow night?"

Taehyung nodded eagerly, bouncing around us as we walked across the thankfully empty quad. "Yeah, let's go out! Maybe we can even go dancing after? We haven't been out in ages."

I rolled my eyes at his exuberance, but nodded. "Sure, if you guys are free."

47 Days P.I. (2 days after thesis defense)

The boys had an event scheduled the day after my defense, but they were able to clear time to take me out on Friday. I hadn't realized that Namjoon and Taehyung had intended to invite all the members of Bangtan, but I was delighted to celebrate with them all the same.

Having the whole group with us meant more security, but also more privacy since Joon had rented out the entire restaurant. Tae pestered all of us through the whole meal, trying to convince us to go out dancing once we were finished. Jimin and Hoseok both joined in his efforts, though Yoongi and Jungkook bowed out, claiming work and rest were more important.

The club we'd chosen for the night was getting crowded by the time we got there, so we mostly stuck to the VIP section we'd been given tables in rather than risking it in the writhing mass on the main floor. The six of us remaining ordered several rounds of drinks, and I lost count of the number of times we raised our glasses to cheer my success.

My head was spinning a bit, both due to the alcohol in my system and the way Namjoon and Taehyung were looking at me, making me squirm with anticipation. They both became bolder when we started dancing near the table, stepping closer to me and to each other, hands lingering on hips and shoulders, and heated glances all around. I was sure one of the members would say something, but when I looked they had all wandered down to the main floor and found dance partners of their own.

We danced and continued drinking for almost two more hours before I finally started whining about my shoes getting uncomfortable, and Namjoon gathered everyone to start heading home for the night. I was all set to grab a taxi back to my place, but Tae and Joon insisted I come back to the dorm with them, and I was too tipsy to disagree. We'd all switched to water before we'd left the club, but the heady floating feeling of the alcohol still ran through my veins. Tae was the closest to sober of any of us, his intense dislike of the taste of booze meant he went hard and fast at the beginning of the night but had stuck to soft drinks and water for the remainder of the evening.

"I'm kind of really looking forward to getting to sleep next to you again," I whispered in Taehyung's ear, the confession making me giggle. I was pressed between my two...suitors? Lovers didn't feel right when we’d hardly touched since our aborted surprise threesome, and while boyfriend was more accurate, it felt like it was too soon.

Tae turned his head and shot me a wicked smile, slowly easing his large hand onto my thigh and squeezing, slow enough to (hopefully) go undetected. I knew Joon had noticed when he mirrored Tae's actions, as well as leaning in to press an open mouthed kiss to my neck. It was all a bit overwhelming and made my head spin more than any amount of booze.

We finally reached the dorm building, and everyone piled out and shuffled upstairs. Hoseok reminded everyone to drink some more water before turning as we all said our good nights and made for whichever bed we were sleeping in.

As soon as the door to their bedroom closed behind us, both boys had their hands all over me. Namjoon reached for the zipper of my dress, but Taehyung pulled me against him before the clothing could slide off. His mouth slanted over mine, tongue demanding entrance as he kissed me so hard I nearly forgot to breathe.

"I've been dying to do that since last week," Tae confessed when he finally pulled away. "You have no idea how hard it is to know you want to kiss me but not be able to do it."

"Mmm," I hummed against his lips. "But it was certainly worth the wait."

Namjoon looked surprised. "You guys didn't even kiss after you talked? Taehyungie was looking so pleased with himself once we got back that I figured he'd at least made it to second base." I turned to swat at him playfully.

"Excuse me, weren't you the one who asked us to hold off because you wanted to be there?" I reminded him.

"Yeah, for the first time you fucked," he clarified, putting up his arms in self defense. "I didn't mean to put a hold on everything, I'm not the sex police."

I pouted. "Maybe it's for the best, I'm not sure I would have been able to stop myself once we got going."

"Mmm, me neither,” Tae admitted, looking a little guilty. He shook his head, as if to clear it. “We’re kinda drunk now, though…”

"I'm not that drunk," Namjoon insisted.

Tae rolled his eyes. "We’re all that drunk, Joon-hyung." I whined in protest; as much as the logical side of my brain agreed with his assessment, I had spent the entire night being intentionally seduced by these two men, and I was ready to pop.

Namjoon also made a noise of protest, his hands returning to the back of my dress and completely lowering the zipper before sliding his hands back up and pushing the straps off my shoulders. "Are you sure about that, Taetae?" he taunted his dongsaeng. "I think our girl needs a proper fucking." His hand followed the fabric of my dress as it slid down, past my bra and over my soft abdomen before resting over my panties. "She's so hot for us, so wet she's practically soaked through her panties."

I moaned, nodding my agreement with the direction Namjoon was trying to lure Taehyung. I reached up to tease my fingers over my own nipples, which were hard and pressing against the thin fabric of my undergarment. "A proper fucking is exactly what I need," I added. Tae groaned, balling his hands into fists and biting one to stifle the sound.

"I want to, you know how much I want to," Taehyung muttered. "So, so badly." He leaned forward to kiss me again, then pulled away and turned slightly to Namjoon, kissing him over my shoulder. I couldn't help the whimper I let out, I was too lost in my arousal to control it.

It was Namjoon's turn to groan in frustration. "Babe, those noises are just making it harder for me," he warned. I grinned and swiveled my hips back into him, feeling evidence of exactly how hard I was making it.

"Noona, pretty noona," Tae's words were sweet but his voice took a harder edge, beginning to sound a bit desperate. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you."

I looked up at the two of them, tall golden god-like mean who both looked back down at me with eyes darkened by lust. I wasn't sure if I should feel threatened or just aroused, but I licked my bottom lip deliberately before rolling my hips between them again.

Taehyung's hands gripped my hips and pulled me along with him as he walked backwards across the room, making me stumble as my foot caught on my dress, which had gathered around my ankles. I felt Namjoon reach down to disentangle me before following behind.

"I'm feeling a little underdressed here, guys," I commented, realizing I was down to my underwear while they were both still fully dressed. Once Tae reached the bed he'd been aiming for, he spun me around and used the momentum to push me down onto it. I didn't care which bed it was we'd landed on, only about the man crawling on top of me and laying a kiss onto my collarbone.

Namjoon hummed his approval of the younger man's move and pulled himself up onto the bed next to me. "I dunno, I'm a big fan of this look," he assured me, trailing fingers up and down my arm, leaving a path of goosebumps. I turned my head toward him and stared into his eyes until he got the hint and leaned forward to kiss me.

"Now," Tae said carefully, pushing himself up so that he could look at both Namjoon and I. "We’re all on the same page here, right? No one’s worried they’re being set up?"

I slapped at him lightly. "Ugh, don’t bring that up any more," I griped. "That has to be the least sexy threesome proposal ever."

Taehyung raised an eyebrow at me. "Hey, last time we were in this position you freaked out because our intentions were unclear. Just covering all my bases here."

"He has a point," Namjoon agreed, and earned another smack from me. "Hey, what's with all the violence tonight? You were never this prone to hitting me before."

"One annoying boyfriend, I could handle," I argued. "Two of them just makes me want to hit things."

Taehyung cleared his throat. "So, uh, is everybody on board? Do we need to grab some condoms or anything, or are we all clean?"

I shot him a look. "What happened to ‘we’re too drunk’, hmm?” I teased. He opened his mouth to answer, but I cut him off. "In any case, I'd really like to get off at some point tonight, and I think you and Joonie would too." I accompanied my bold words with caresses on their still clothed erections, Tae's with my knee and Namjoon's by twisting my torso to reach my hand to his. Both boys gasped at the touches, and Namjoon chuckled.

"That's my girl, straight to the point," ha laughed, giving me a quick kiss to the temple.

"Our girl," Taehyung corrected quickly.

I rolled my hips and arched my back, desperate to remind them of what we were supposed to be doing together on this bed. "Yes, well, your girl has one of the world's hottest men between her legs and another at her side, and she'd really like to suck one of their dicks, if they're interested," I whined.

True to their natures, Taehyung froze in place at my invitation and Namjoon sprang into action, undoing his belt and divesting himself of his clothing as quickly as possible.

"Yeah, babe, how do you want me?" he asked. I sat up, shifting so I didn't push Taehyung off of me entirely, and looked around. There was enough room at the far side of the bed for one of my favourite positions.

"Off the side?" I proposed, scooting myself across the bed until my head was hanging off the side, upside down. Namjoon scrambled to meet me, spreading his feet wide to as to line his cock up with my waiting mouth.

He lost his balance and fell forward a little, his impressive erection sliding across my face as his aim was slightly off. I looked to see what had distracted him and saw Taehyung undressing as well, peeling his designer clothes off carefully and laying them on the other bed for safekeeping. Once he was down to his black boxer briefs, he returned to us, smirking to see us watching his every move. It was like watching one of the large cat species, or a master at work, he knew just how to move, to angle himself, to maximize the impact he had. It was almost unfair (and would have been completely unfair if I hadn't known that body would be on top of mine again momentarily).

Tae looked me over, telling me, "Now you're the one who's overdressed," as he crawled back onto the bed and trailed those long fingers down my sternum, dancing around my belly button before teasing at the waistband of my silky panties. I was glad I'd made the effort to wear a cute matching set of underwear, even though I'd told myself I wasn't going to go home with them. Funny how a few drinks and heated looks will change a girl's mind.

Namjoon "helped" by trying to dig his hands under me and unhook my bra, until I reached up and arched my back in order to do it myself. He did peel it off of me once it was loose, while I was busy lifting my hips to wiggle my underwear down over them, so that Taehyung could slide them down my legs and toss them aside with far less care than he had for his own clothes.

My attention was drawn back to Namjoon, who was kneading my breasts excitedly, as he did any time they became bare in his presence. Exuberant massaging quickly became softer caresses, though, as he knew what I liked in order to turn me on even further. I moaned as he stroked his thumbs over both my nipples simultaneously, letting my head drop back down off the edge of the mattress, and once again faced his weeping cock.

There were several reasons I was particularly fond of this position, one of the biggest being that it softened my gag reflex enough for me to take Namjoon's entire cock down my throat. It was one of the reasons he was also a big fan, despite the awkward splits he had to do to get level with me; that, and the fact that he was able to play with my breasts while I sucked him off. It also left my hands free to play with myself, but this time there would be someone else available to take care of me.

"You have no idea how hot this looks," I heard Taehyung mutter as I reached over my head to pull Namjoon's hips closer, shifting to line him up with my mouth and finally slide his hardness past my lips. I moaned at the feeling, which I knew would make Namjoon thrust deeper and draw a grunt of some kind from him throat as well.

I did my best to concentrate on the task in front of me, but Tae's nimble fingers dipped between my legs, sliding easily due to the arousal slicking my thighs. "She's so wet, hyung," Tae commented. "And sensitive," he added when I twitched at the quick brush of his thumb over the hood of my clit.

Namjoon made a noise of agreement. "I think, between the dancing at the club, and feeling her up in the car, we worked her up real good." He was starting to build a steady rhythm of fucking into my throat, making him catch his breath every few words and reminding me that I needed to sync my breathing with his thrusts, though that was getting more difficult to do when Taehyung's ministrations between my legs had me gasping.

I was aching for those long fingers of his to make their way inside me, but Taehyung was taking his time teasing me, drawing figure-eights over my clit and trailing from there down to my perineum, even ghosting over my asshole a couple of times. It was so hard to keep still as I was twitching every time he hit a particularly sensitive spot, which was more frequently than I'd expected.

Perhaps it was due to the heightened emotions I’d experienced over the past few weeks, or even the alcohol still in my system, but I was beginning to think I'd been missing out during all those years of monogamy. Having two men, two wonderful and generous and talented lovers, concentrating all their efforts on me was nearly overwhelming. Feeling the stimulation to my aching pussy while Namjoon fucked my throat and continued to caress my breasts was driving me to my peak faster than I ever remember.

Taehyung's free hand slid over my collarbone and trailed over my neck, where I knew the bulge of Joon's cock was visibly distorting my throat. “That is so hot," Tae growled, his voice low and husky with need. "How is that so hot?"

"She takes my dick like a champ," Namjoon bragged, starting to pant and sweat from exertion. "Don't you, babe?" I couldn't move my head to nod so I moaned my agreement, which set off a chain of sounds from Namjoon and then Taehyung when he saw how his hyung reacted to the vibrations.

I arched my back and rocked my hips against Tae's hand, trying to encourage him. The hand between my legs, which had paused while he examined my throat, resumed it tortuous path through my arousal slickened folds. This time, however, instead of teasing around the edges, Taehyung finally slid one of his fingers inside me, making me moan again.

"So tight," he commented. "Fuck, you feel like heaven, noona. I can't wait to fuck you, I'm gonna fill you up so good, gonna make you come on my cock." I rocked my hips up against him again, trying to fuck myself on his hand. He took the hint and pumped into me a little faster, but not before adding a second finger and adjusting his angle so that his thumb was able to circle my clit while he moved.

I had lost control of the noises that tried to escape my throat, only to be muffled by Namjoon's cock still fucking it. His rhythm was beginning to falter and I used one hand to caress his balls, which I knew would bring him closer to the edge. "Fuck, babe, fuck- I'm gonna come. Where- Where do you want me?" he asked, as though I'd be able to answer him.

In reply, I used both hands to grab him by the ass and pull him closer to me once more, burying him as deep down as I could, my throat contracting around him in protest. He didn't come in that instant, but he was nearly there, and got the idea that I wanted to swallow all of him down.

He grabbed my upper arms and used the leverage for one, two, three, four more hard thrusts before I felt more than tasted his release. The loud groan he let out was also a good clue.

I started to be able to breathe through my nose as Namjoon's cock softened and I cleaned it off as best I could. I couldn't even properly catch my breath as Taehyung assaulted my pussy and my ears with the most delicious pleasure.

"Yeah, you did so well, noona, you look so beautiful taking his cock like that." The praise falling from Tae’s mouth filled me with pride as I shifted myself to the side a bit, in order to give my neck some support. He moved with me, never taking his hands off of me, still fucking me with his fingers and teasing my clit. He curled his two fingers up inside of me and hit that spongy spot that made me see stars. "You gonna come for me, pretty noona? Gonna come on my fingers and soak the bed, aren't you? I can't wait to be inside you, noona, I wanna be in you while Joon-hyung fucks your throat. Or maybe we should share this perfect little pussy, leave you wrecked after taking the both of us, you won't be able to walk the next day..." The patter of dirty talk continued, Taehyung describing everything he'd ever dreamed of doing to me while dragging me closer to ecstasy.

Namjoon returned, holding a shirt he'd pulled from the laundry basket and used it to wipe himself off, and I realized I'd never registered him stepping away. He nonchalantly reached over with his free hand to pinch one of my nipples and that pushed me over the edge.

My vision went white as a wave of pleasure originating at my core spread through my body in an instant, rushing down each limb and leaving a tingling sensation in my extremities. A wordless cry escaped my already abused throat.

I was able to bask in the sensation for a few seconds before the continued stimulation from Tae started making me twitch painfully. "Enough, please," I begged hoarsely. Taehyung smiled wickedly at me and redoubled his efforts, but Namjoon pushed his hand back.

"Overstimulation isn't her thing," he explained to his disappointed looking dongsaeng, who nodded and leaned back. Namjoon handed Tae the shirt he had used to clean up and Tae wiped his hand clear of my mess before pulling my thighs apart to give him more room to gently run the cloth over my sticky body.

I lay back and let him care for me, until I shifted my leg and brushed up against Tae's stiff cock, still trapped in his underwear. I sat up slowly, leaning forward until I was pressed up against him, running my hand over the hardness that was leaking a wet spot onto his black boxer briefs. "I think I owe you an orgasm," I said huskily. I wrapped my hand around the impressive girth and squeezed, making him shiver against me.

I moved to kiss him, but Namjoon leaned in to stop me. "I think you've each had a turn to get someone off tonight," he commented. "My turn now."

I gasped as Namjoon manhandled Tae away from me, laying him on his back and roughly pulling off his underwear. My eyes widened when I finally saw the cock I'd been squeezing. "You weren't kidding" I breathed, and both men turned confused looks at me. "That's a dick too good to waste," I supplied, making Taehyung roll his eyes and Namjoon only look more confused.

"Ignore her, I think you were saying something about making me come?" Tae encouraged his boyfriend.

I had to stop myself from squealing a little, realizing that Namjoon was also Taehyung's boyfriend, as well as my own. They were both my boyfriends and they were also each other's boyfriends. Which meant they were going to do boyfriend things together. Boyfriend things like give each other blow jobs, and it was totally okay if I watched and even got off on it, since they were my boyfriends.

None of the fantasies I'd ever had involving Namjoon's mouth (of which there were many) were anywhere near as hot as seeing it actually wrapped around Tae's cock. I laid back to get a better angle, unable to look away from the way Joon's soft lips stretched around it, how his tongue escaped from his bottom lip as he came back off of it, the string of saliva hanging from his mouth as be gulped down a breath.

Namjoon's hand continued to pump up and down Tae's erection, spreading the mix of pre-cum and spit over the entire length. "Talk about wet, baby," he teased. "You keep leaking like this, I don't even need any extra lube."

I wasn't able to deep throat Namjoon all the way unless I was in a position like I'd been in earlier to dampen my own gag reflex, and Taehyung was even bigger than Namjoon, so it was not surprising to see Joon use his hand to stroke the base of Tae's cock where his mouth couldn't reach. He was still trying to get as much of it as he could, though, backing off a couple of times until he gagged so hard he started coughing.

"Hyung," Taehyung cautioned, sitting up a bit and using one hand to push Namjoon's head up higher so he could look in his eyes. "Don't hurt yourself, okay?"

Namjoon allowed Tae to push him up, but kept one hand wrapped around Tae's dick, slowly stroking it. He rocked forward, pressing up against Tae's body until he had him pinned to the mattress, and kissed him deeply.

I don't think I will ever get tired of sights like that, of seeing them so intimate with each other, not only physically but emotionally, the warmth in their gazes as they pulled apart striking something inside me. Sure, it made my lady parts tingle, but it also did the same to my heart.

"I think I'm the luckiest woman in the world right now." I didn't realize I'd said the words aloud until they both turned to smile at me fondly.

As Namjoon resumed his position between Taehyung's legs, the younger man said, "Here I was thinking the same thing."

I quirked my head. "You think I'm the luckiest woman in the world, too?"

His sigh turned into a gasp as Joon took him in his mouth again. "You know what I mean," he whined at me. He cried out again at something Namjoon was doing with his tongue, reaching to fist his hand in the other man's hair while beckoning me closer with his chin. "Come here, I want to kiss you some more."

Kissing Tae severely hindered my view of him getting sucked off, but I was able to sneak a glance every time he broke away to praise or plead with Namjoon. It wasn't long before he was grunting at Joon that he was close.

"Hyung," he begged, tugging at Namjoon's hair. "Hyung, I'm gonna- Hyung, please I wanna come-" Tae cried out as he came, hips arching off the bed. Namjoon swallowed once, thickly, and again before allowing Tae's cock to slip from his mouth.

"Easier clean up," he reminded Taehyung. "You know I don't mind."

Tae grunted, sitting up and grabbing the soiled shirt to wipe himself off. "One of these days, I'm going to come all over your face before you expect it, hyung. And I'm going to take a picture. And frame it and hang it on my wall." Namjoon rolled his eyes, apparently accustomed to this point of contention between them.

"Whatever, you can dream about covering me in come some other time. Let's just get some sleep, we've done enough celebrating tonight." Namjoon stood, gave us each a kiss laced with the taste of Tae's cum, and walked to the other bed. He picked up the clothes Taehyung had left there and tossed them back towards us. I scrambled to join him on the clean dry bed, and Tae piled in after me (after making sure that his clothes didn't land on any of the wet spots).

I ended up in between them again, facing Joon with Tae clinging to me from behind. In contrast to the last time we'd been in this position, though, this time my heart felt settled and content, like things were finally where they were supposed to be.

48 Days P.I. (The next morning)

As I regained consciousness, I was significantly less comfortable than I had been going to sleep in the early morning hours. When we'd climbed into bed, I'd been warm, slightly tipsy, and basking in the glow of both physical and emotional satisfaction. Upon waking, I was faced with a pounding headache, gross sticky patches on my skin from the hasty clean up, and one boyfriend sprawled over half the bed, snoring loudly, while the other was trying to suffocate me with his body heat while grinding his morning wood against my ass.

"Ugh," I groaned, trying to extract myself from Tae's clutches and the mess of blankets tangled around us. Finally free, I stumbled around, pulling on a pair of soft sleep pants I kept in one of Namjoon's drawers and a clean(-ish) shirt from the floor.

I padded down to the kitchen, heading straight for the cabinet where I knew they kept a large bottle of painkillers, and was confused when I didn't see it in it's usual spot. I heard a rattle behind me and turned to find Jimin and Jungkook looking words for wear, shaking the bottle I'd been in search of. I hadn't noticed them when I walked in, too hungover to look away from my target, but they seemed to be after the same thing I was.

I accepted the bottle Jimin passed me with a nod of thanks and poured a handful of the little round pills into my hand. Grabbing a big glass and filling it with water, I took a couple of the painkillers and slid the rest into my pocket, to take back for Namjoon and Taehyung.

"I know why you're feeling it this morning," I nodded at Jimin, who looked cranky but adorably rumpled with his over-treated hair sticking out at all angles. "But what has you looking so haggard, Kookie? I thought you stayed home to get some rest." Jungkook's brown hair looked like he'd been running his hands through it all night and the bags under his eyes were shockingly purple.

The maknae grunted, running his hands through his hair again. "I haven't even been to bed yet," he admitted. "I didn't realize what time it was until Jimin-hyung got up." I nodded in sympathy.

"I'm surprised you're walking straight, noona," Jimin finally chimed in, a cheeky grin making his eyes disappear.

I tried not to let my shock show on my face, and tried to think of an innocent reason why I'd be walking funny. "What do you mean? My shoes weren't that bad, I just wanted to come home because I was getting tired."

Both boys laughed. "You know Taehyungie is, like, the loudest person in the world, right?" Jimin reminded me. "And, uh, neither you nor hyung were especially quiet either. These walls are pretty thin.”

I felt my entire face heat up at the implication. "Oh," was all I could think to say.

"Don't worry, noona," Jungkook tried to reassure me. "They told us that the three of you are dating or whatever." I wasn't sure how it was possible, but my cheeks started burning even hotter.

"Yah, you think Jin-hyung or Hobi-hyung wouldn't have teased you, the way you were dancing all over each other?" Jimin added.

I dropped into a crouch, covering my face, I was so embarrassed. I had assumed they'd all been too distracted to notice us dancing, but knowing that not only had they noticed, they'd known exactly what was going on, made me want to disappear.

"Hey, have you guys seen noona?" I heard Taehyung ask from the hallway. No one said anything, but they must have pointed to where I was because Taehyung's bare feet appeared in my field of view. "Noona, are you okay? Did you drop something?"

"No," I said, my voice muffled by my arms wrapped around my head. "I'm just trying to melt into the floor, leave me here to die in peace."

There was a moment of confused silence before Jungkook supplied, "She didn't realize that you'd told us about the three of you."

"Or quite how loud you all were last night," Jimin added.

I felt arms slide around me as Taehyung crouched next to me. "I'm sorry, noona," he apologized softly. "We should have told you that we told the members. We needed to do it before they found out on their own. I promise, we haven't told anybody else." I twisted to hug him back, and he pulled me up to my feet. "Imagine what you would have had to say about last night if they didn't know? You're not that good a liar." I let our a reluctant laugh and nodded into his chest. He hadn't bothered to put a shirt on, so my nose rubbed directly against his soft, honey coloured skin. I liked the sensation, so I nuzzled into him again.

Once I calmed down enough that I felt my face no longer resembled a tomato, I turned away from him and looked at the other boys. "You guys are okay with this? I mean, you don't think two of your members dating each other is going to affect the dynamics or anything?"

Jimin and Jungkook both shook their heads, looking amused. "Of course not. I mean, they've had their thing together for years, and it hasn't affected us. And, I mean, if you think those two are the only ones who've ever fucked-"

"That's enough!" Tae cut Jimin off with a shout, taking me by the arm and dragging me out of the room

"What? We've lived together for more than a decade, with little to no chance of having normal dating lives. We're all young, healthy, attractive men-" The words followed us as I was marched back toward the bedroom.

Tae turned to look at me as we reached the door, noting the dreamy look in my eyes. "Oh no you don't," he practically growled at me. "I know exactly what you're thinking, and I'd like to remind you that you already have two boyfriends to satisfy your every fantasy. Stop thinking whatever it is you're thinking."

***

The three of us went back to my place after we'd all woken up and grabbed showers, since apparently there was even less privacy at the dorm than I'd realized. We still needed to have a serious discussion about the burgeoning relationship between the three of us. We had probably crossed a line the night before, anyway, so the talk was long overdue.

Even though we'd all slept hard, I was exhausted, so I collapsed onto the couch as soon as we all filed inside. Taehyung thought this was a fine idea, so he fell on top of me, effectively pinning me in place. "Mmm, this couch is so comfy," he commended, wiggling and making me gasp in pain as all his sharp points managed to dig into my in the process.

"Let her breathe, please," Namjoon requested, settling into the armchair to watch Tae and I flail around until we were more comfortably seated.

I looked between their faces, my head on a swivel since I managed to take the seat between them. "So, who wants to go first?" I asked nervously.

"Um, do we need to take turns?" Namjoon seemed a bit confused.

I shrugged. "I don't know, I've never done this before. You guys sound like you know what you're doing, at least."

Tae chuckled. "That is...a gross over exaggeration of our competence in this area. I just know that from everything I've read about polyamorous relationships, communication and boundaries are very important, so we should start there."

Namjoon nodded, adding, "Yeah, and since not communicating has already gotten me in trouble, I want to make sure we're all on the same page."

"Well," I said thoughtfully. "We agree on the basics, I think. We're all equal partners in this, right? No primary or secondary partners?" They both nodded. "And both of you are my boyfriends, and you are each other's boyfriend and I am your girlfriend." More nods. "Okay, but what about publicly? We've been lucky that Namjoon and I are public, but I honestly think ARMY would riot if I was dating two of you."

"Yeah," Namjoon agreed. "I don't even know if we can let the managers know. The members do, of course-"

"Yeah, thanks for telling me that, by the way," I interrupted.

"Sorry, babe!" he apologized quickly before continuing. "We thought it best to tell them, in case they caught us or something. So they wouldn't think anybody was getting cheated on."

"No no, I get why," I replied. "I was just a bit embarrassed, especially when I realized they, uh, could hear us last night."

"Yeah, sound carries pretty well in there," Tae said with a shrug. "We're used to it though, we mostly don't mention anything we hear and the others do the same."

"Babe?" Namjoon asked suddenly. "When's your graduation?"

I was a little surprised by his abrupt question, but answered, "Early next month. Why, do you want to introduce Tae to my parents? They'll be coming for the ceremony, but I'm not sure they're ready for their daughter to be dating another idol..."

He shook his head. "Not that. There were just some other things we were gonna talk about after you graduated."

Tae looked confused when I gave Namjoon a sharp look. "Oh? Sexy things?"

I shook my head at the same time Joon said, "Very sexy things, at least I think they are."

"Namjoon," I whined. "Not the time."

Ignoring my objections, Namjoon told Taehyung, "She made me promise to wait until after she graduated to talk about her moving in to my apartment. And to talk about when we can start a family."

I watched Tae's eyes widen and said, "See, Joonie, it's too soon! We should at least wait until we have this whole new relationship thing figured out before we start talking about babies."

Namjoon smiled when Taehyung started shaking his head. "No no, please let's talk about babies," the younger man encouraged. "I'm thinking four or five. Probably an even number so we can each be bio-dads to the same number, so four or six then. Ooh! Can we name one Chi?" My shoulders dropped and I shook my head.

"Never count on Tae to be on the anti-baby side of an argument," Namjoon reminded me in a stage whisper. "He's been wanting kids since before he could grow facial hair."

I looked back up at them and smiled at the joke, but I wasn't ready to let the argument go just yet. "Guys, I haven't even graduated yet, I don't have a job lined up. I didn't go to school for so long to earn a doctorate just to quit and be your...baby factory. I'm not stay-at-home-mom material, or kept woman material for that matter."

Tae wrapped one arm around my shoulders and squeezed me close. "No, noona, I wouldn't want that for you. I just can't help but get excited about the idea of our future together."

"Moving in to my place isn't about you being a kept woman," Namjoon argued. "My place is closer to our dorms, in a better neighbourhood, and has better security. It's more for my peace of mind than anything else." He grabbed my hand and pulled me into his lap, wrapping his strong arms around me. "And we don't have to start a family right away, I just want to be able to talk about it. You didn't want to discuss it when I first brought it up because you were so focused on school, but now I want to be able to start planning."

After a moment of silence, Tae asked, "So, you guys were talking about talking about having kids...were you talking about getting married, too?" The look on his face worried me, so I moved off of Namjoon's lap and cuddled back up to Tae.

"No, Taetae, we talked about it ages ago and neither of us have ever felt the need to actually get married just to prove we're committed to each other," I said with a smile at Joon. "We're both people of our words. And it feels unfair that we'd be able to do something that is denied to so many other couples in the country, just because we happened to fall in love with someone of the opposite gender." When Taehyung's expression didn't change, I climbed into his lap and beckoned Namjoon to join us on the couch. "Besides, at this point I don't think either if us would get married without you being part of it."

"Right," Namjoon confirmed, sliding his arm behind Tae and hugging him. "Especially now, I wouldn't want to get married unless it was to both of my partners."

"I don't want you to deny me," Tae said quietly, pivoting back to the earlier focus of our conversation. "We don't have to tell anybody that we're all together, that's none of their business. But I don't think I'd be able to stand it if I read somewhere that you said you're not dating me."

Namjoon and I exchanged a look, but he was the first to speak. "Sure, we can find something to say if we get asked. Like, 'we are in a happy and healthy relationship', or like, 'we have a great relationship with Taehyung' or something. Something true, even if it doesn't tell the whole story."

Tae seemed to brighten at the thought. "Yeah, that would be better than flat out lying, at least." He sighed again. "I just...I don't want to feel like I'm the third wheel in your relationship. You guys have been together for years now, talked about having kids and how you don't want to get married, and now I'm just- Our relationship is so much newer, and we aren't really ready to be talking about those kind of things yet."

Both Namjoon and I hugged him tight, squishing him between us. "The romantic side of our relationship might be new, but it's not like we haven't had any relationship up until now," I pointed out. "You've probably been my best friend for these years I've been with Namjoon, and I mean, you guys have been together for ages, longer than I've been around." I swallowed, ready to admit my insecurity. "I mean, how am I supposed to compete, physically, when you two literally live in the same room and can be with each other all the time?"

Namjoon spread his arms further to envelop me in the hug along with Tae. "Don't worry about that, babe," he assured me. "If we're too tired or busy to come visit you, we're too tired or busy to do anything with each other."

Taehyung nodded in agreement. "Yeah, and we can, like, call you or something if we do," he offered. "Just, like, so you know it's happening?"

I chuckled at that idea. "I don't want to police your sex life, either," I said. "You shouldn't have to ask permission to be intimate with your partner. I just...if I start feeling like you're not sexing me up because you're already getting enough from each other, I'll say something."

"Promise?" Joon prompted.

I nodded. "I promise. And Tae-ah, you promise to let us know if you're feeling like a third wheel?" He nodded his agreement.

"And I promise to let you know if I start feeling like an old toy you're both done playing with now that you have each other," Namjoon added. I saw the shy sincerity in his eyes. "That's my current biggest relationship-based fear."

I hugged both men close, giving an extra hard squeeze before releasing them and relaxing into the arm of the couch behind me.

"So, just so we're all on the same page, sex doesn't have to be reserved for when all three of us are present, right?" Tae clarified. Both Namjoon and I nodded. "I figure unless someone starts feeling left out, we can just go with the flow."

I added, "I do want to make sure to have time alone with each of you, though. I love all of us together, but we had one-on-one time before, and I don't want to lose that."

"You won't feel left out because Tae and I get a lot more time together?" Namjoon asked softly.

I shook my head. "I think its a bit different with the two of you, since you've lived and worked together for so long," I admitted. "Oh, but the tour is going to be pure torture for me. You two will have each other, and I'll be back here by myself."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Joon promised.

Taehyung looked curious. "Well, what did you do before, other than the sappy love letters? Lots of phone calls and FaceTime and sexting?" His face lit up with a new idea. "We haven't even talked about kinks! What are the two of you into? Do you have any hard stops? I mean, I'm willing to try pretty much anything once-"

Tae was cut off as both his and Namjoon's phones rang almost simultaneously. They each scrambled to answer, Tae informing the person on the other like that Namjoon was talking to Sejin and they could all talk on speaker.

"Okay, have you guys checked your SNS yet today?" Sejin asked once he confirmed both of them were on the line. Both Namjoon and Taehyung confirmed that they hadn't been online yet. Sejin sighed. "Alright, you guys have managed to create the same scandal twice. Someone had a camera at the club last night, which you didn't tell me about going to but we'll get to that later. Anyway, there's another picture of Taehyung and your little girlfriend grinding on each other, Namjoon-ah. We're doing our best to kill the story, but..."

Sejin went into the details of the lengths they were going to and the money they'd have to spend to cover up this new picture, but I tuned him out and went searching for myself. It wasn't hard to find, the picture was all over Twitter, but something about it looked off to me.

"...I don’t think you'll be able to just brush it off this time, you're going to have to break up with her and make a public statement-" Sejin was saying when I cut him off.

"Sejin-ssi? Look for the whole picture," I advised. The man on the line sputtered a bit, apparently unaware that I had been listening as well. "Yeah, whatever, hi. I don't think you'll have to bury this one, jut change the angle. Find the whole picture, cause the one being spread is obviously cropped to cut out Namjoon, who was dancing right behind me. The three of us were dancing all night, there's nothing noteworthy about me and my boyfriend dancing with a friend, is there?"

Namjoon grinned, the darkness and worry that had threatened his expression melting away. "See, Sejin, I told you it's better to keep her around. I guess the three of us are just going to have to go out together a lot, and remind the public what good friends we are."

He squeezed my hand and I squeezed Taehyung's. We'd done this once before, we could do it again.

[Several months later]

I rushed to pack up my computer and shove it into my bag as I wrapped up class. "Remember," I spoke loudly. "No office hours on Thursday, I've got some personal business to take care of."

A few students nodded in my direction, but most of them were already filing out of the lecture hall. I'd have to send an email reminder, though even with that I was sure I'd get at least one annoyed message asking where I was. Teaching first year stats was a thankless job, but I was paying my dues as the newest member of the faculty, only hoping that someone else would be hired next year and it would be their turn.

One of the more engaged students, fresh out of high school with the glimmer of hope still shining in his eyes, approached my desk. "You haven't missed office hours all year, Professor," he said respectfully. "I hope it's nothing serious."

I smiled as I wound the cord of my charger around the power brick. "Honestly, it's not. Its just that my partners' coming home from a long overseas trip and I want to spend some time with them." Thankfully none of my students has yet to connect the dots between their nerdy professor and the woman who was dating Kim Namjoon, leader of the biggest boy band in the world. I could only hope they never did. I waved goodbye to the young man, who looked a little disappointed in my answer, and rushed toward the office I shared with two other younger faculty members.

Once I finally made it back home, I nervously started checking everything I'd set up before I left for campus that morning. I changed from my more formal teaching wear (intentionally chosen to make me look as little like an idol's girlfriend as possible) into a pretty sundress since it was still warm enough to get away with, and even prettier underwear. I knew it wasn't likely to stay on long, but I wanted my boys to know how excited I was to see them.

The apartment Namjoon owned was much bigger than my student housing had been, which meant we had space for a giant oversized bed in the master and a cozy office/library/mini studio in the second bedroom. I'd moved in not long after graduation, finally agreeing that all of their arguments had merit. I did pay rent, probably nowhere near as much as the place was worth, but while I was technically the only person who called it home, the boys were constantly staying over unless schedules interfered.

I had worried, at the beginning, about how Taehyung would adjust to spending so much time away from the other members, knowing how much he loved and depended on their constant company, but he claimed he got enough of that while they worked, and he almost always had Namjoon around when he was staying over with me, so I stopped asking. Admittedly, it gave me hope that at some point, they would actually move out of the dorms and we could live together for real.

They were headed home from almost two months away, though, so I wasn't thinking about moving in together, I just wanted to see them again. Eight weeks was a long time to wait, and it had taken both of them to convince me not to join the throngs of fans who greeted them at the airport. The claimed it would be a recipe for public indecency, so I awaited their arrival at home.

A burst of noise at the front door had me scrambling out of the office where I'd been grading some tests, and running toward them. I threw myself at the first one in, which happened to be Taehyung, and jumped into his arms. He laughed and spun me around, kissing me senseless before releasing me so Namjoon could give me similar treatment.

"What took you so long?" I asked as soon as my mouth was free again. "Your flight landed ages ago."

"Had to drop off our stuff at the dorm, and then Manager-nim was there so we couldn't immediately run off," Taehyung explained. I nodded, knowing that while the managers wouldn't bat an eye at Namjoon rushing off to see me as soon as he landed, it would raise eyebrows if Taehyung went with him. There were already enough rumours about the three of us that the managers had been watching very closely for any hint of truth to them. The other members had been invaluable in helping to throw them off the scent.

Taehyung grabbed my hand and pulled me in the direction of the bedroom, dragging Namjoon along since he was holding my other hand. "How was your trip, are you tired?" I asked in a rush. I was so ecstatic to be with them again; it was the longest the both of them had been away from me since we all started dating, and I was feeling a bit needy, unable to let go of their hands.

"I slept on the flight," Tae assured me, waggling his eyebrows. I checked behind to make sure Namjoon was also feeling rested, and he just smiled. "I don't need any more rest, I need my noona."

My heart and my worry melted, making way for the deep feeling of want that had been bubbling under the surface to come to the forefront of my mind. Being away from them for so long had begun to affect my sanity, so I made no move to protest when Tae collapsed onto the bed and pulled me with him, causing me to let go of Joon's hand.

A moment's kissing quickly turned hot, and soon my mouth was parting from his to follow a trail down his neck and across the sharp points of his clavicle, left exposed by the deep v neck of his shirt. I began fumbling at the buttons, trying to expose more of his skin to my touch.

Taehyung's deep chuckle shook the chest I was pressed against. "Feeling desperate, noona?" he teased. "Did you miss us that much? We sent you lots of pictures to keep you company."

At the mention of the pictures they'd sent, I moaned and changed my focus. Leaving his shirt as it was, rumpled and half undone, I instead backed off the bed and began working at undoing his pants.

I glanced back to check on Namjoon, who had followed us into the bedroom and taken what had become a familiar stance, seated on the cushioned seat of the big bay window. Rather than the jealousy he had feared he'd experience at seeing Taehyung and I together, he'd instead discovered a rather powerful voyeur kink that we had learned to exploit to the fullest. I had found it incredibly convenient that the quickest way to turn on one of my boyfriends was to seduce the other; it made requesting threesomes very efficient. Namjoon gave me a knowing smile with our eyes met, raising an eyebrow as though challenging me to get on with it.

Get on with it, I did, quickly loosening and removing Tae's pants, followed by his black boxer briefs, finally releasing one of the dicks I'd been missing so badly the past eight weeks. "You guys were so mean to me," I complained, leaning over him and running my hands over the tops of his thighs, his hips, everywhere around the base of his cock without actually touching it. "That last video you sent, the one of Joon blowing you? I haven't been able to think of anything else since."

"Noona, that was like, four days ago," Tae moaned. He ran his own hands over his chest and torso when he finished taking off his shirt on his own. When I didn't reply, He angled his head up and looked at me, "Well, now's your chance then. Didn't you want to get a taste yourself?"

I glared at him, but finally wrapped my hand over his erection and stroked it a few times, the precum already leaking out of the tip easing the friction. "Don't get cocky," I warned before licking up the length and sliding my mouth around the tip.

Taehyung's moans and the slick sounds of my mouth were the only noise in the room for several minutes. He wound one hand into my hair, setting a pace he liked and encouraging me to take him deeper with each subsequent thrust. It was a trick he'd picked up from Namjoon, who delighted in sharing all the little things he'd discovered that turned me on, from subtle acts of control like the hand in the hair to the best places to kiss me get get me wet in an instant. In turn, Tae had pushed my boundaries even further than Namjoon had ever dared, striking our own power balance between us.

It hadn't been all sunshine and roses, of course, once we'd officially become a poly triad. Negotiating the new dynamics had taken time, communication, and a lot of patience. We were desperate for each other after the long separation, but I knew that it was likely to bring up old issues, and new ones, between us. That, however, was a problem for the future. I had my boys back with me, and dammit I was going to get thoroughly fucked.

Tae's hand pushed me down far enough to make me gag, and I made a choking noise as tears sprang into the corners of my eyes.

"Careful with our girl, Taehyungie," Namjoon warned, and I could tell he'd moved from the window by the direction of his voice. "Don't want to hurt her on our first day home."

I backed off of Tae's cock long enough so say, "It's okay, I'm all good," before returning to the task at hand. Namjoon's large palm rubbed my back as I bent over Taehyung, but it soon descended over the curve of my hips and tugged my skirt up enough to slip between my thighs.

Joon hissed when he felt the dampness of my panties. "Babe, is this because you missed us? Or because you love sucking his cock that much?" I moaned a response, not really an answer, but that's because I didn't know which it was myself, only that I was absolutely dripping and desperate to get fucked.

Thankfully, Namjoon seemed to be on board with my unspoken idea, pushing my skirt up above my waist where it wouldn't impede his view and ran his hands over my pink lace covered ass. "So fucking gorgeous," he murmured before sliding the panties down just far enough for gravity to pull them down to my ankles where I had to blindly step out of them if I wanted to spread my legs any further. Namjoon's attention was back between my legs, his fingers now covered in my slick arousal and teasing at the sensitive flesh there.

"I can't wait to be inside you, babe," he admitted. "I haven't fucked anything other than a hand or a mouth in way too long, I need to be inside your tight pussy." Dirty talk was something he'd picked up from Tae, and I can't say I minded. Hearing their deep voices telling me exactly what they wanted to do to me only served to turn me on further every time.

He wasn't exaggerating about his need to be inside of me though, as I felt the blunt tip of his cock pressing into my entrance moments after his fingers moved away. Settling his hands on my hips to steady them, he began fucking into me with a slow deliberate rhythm.

The pace Namjoon was setting was still slow enough to be able to continue blowing Taehyung, but the drag of his cock over my g-spot was making me cry out each time. I pulled off of Tae, breathing hard and grunting with every thrust Joon made.

"Damn, hyung," Tae cursed. "How is it that I am getting sucked off my the most wonderful girlfriend in the world, but I am still jealous of our boyfriend?"

I could head the satisfied grin in Namjoon's voice as he replied, "Yeah? Here, I have an idea." He pulled out of me, and a whimpered at the empty feeling.

I stood up straight, waiting to hear what Namjoon's idea was. In addition to his voyeuristic tendencies, sharing the bedroom had revealed a different facet of Joon's desire for control. He was the one who suggested activities and specific positions, which Tae and I were usually eager to comply with. He wasn't forceful in the way Taehyung could be with me, but he always exuded this aura of power that was hard to ignore (and amazing to follow).

"Babe, you lay down like Tae was," Namjoon indicated, and I moved to do so, squeaking when he stopped me to pull my dress off entirely. He had me lay down on the bed one way, then changed his mind and moved me so that my head was on the pillows at the head of the bed. He grabbed a couple extra pillows and put them under my hips, and I started to get the idea of what was coming. Taehyung was directed to join me, and he braced himself on his knees to line up with the angle Joon had put me at.

Namjoon took in our positions, then said, "Okay, Taetae, now fuck her like you mean it." Tae smiled down at me and did just that, filling me with his generous length and making me moan in appreciation.

Joon grabbed a bottle of lube from the dresser and tossed it on the bed before climbing up behind Taehyung. At the first touch of Namjoon's slicked finger against his hole, Tae paused his thrusts until encouraged to continue.

"Fuck Tae, did you prep?" Namjoon moaned, finding Tae already slicked and loose.

"What else was I supposed to do while we waited for Manager-nim to leave?" Tae teased in return, winking at me. The sloppy sounds of Namjoon adding extra lubrication joined the slap of Tae's body against mine, Tae alternating between telling me how good if felt to be inside me and begging Namjoon to just fuck him already.

"Hyung, please, it's been so long," he pleaded. "Two months, hyung, because we promised we wouldn't but please don't tease me any more I need to feel your cock inside me." The way he whined only went to demonstrate how much they'd missed this part of their relationship.

It had been one of the rules, while they were on tour, that they could get each other off, but only with hands and mouths. I hadn't been the one to suggest it, but they felt so guilty about being away from me together for so long that they'd placed their own restriction. Anal may have not been a huge part of their relationship in the past, but once they'd started to explore it within our triad where they had more time and space to enjoy it, they'd both confessed that it was one of their favourite things to do together. Tae was more likely to be the one begging to get fucked, but Joon still couldn't resist the allure of having Tae's giant cock inside him occasionally.

I was certainly reaping the benefits of having Tae inside me, with each stroke glancing against that special spot and making me see stars. I was barreling toward my peak and Joon hadn't even started fucking Tae yet.

"You just gonna play with his ass all night?" I demanded, not wanting to come too early and risk over stimulation if Taehyung wasn't finished yet.

Namjoon chuckled as he finally got into position, using one hand to bend the younger man forward so that Tae's chest was pressed to mine and the other to guide his cock into Taehyung's eager little hole. His hands now gripped Tae's narrower hips and it was Tae who had to find the rhythm between the to partners he was pleasuring.

It was almost like a collapse and expansion, Namjoon's thrust cascading into Tae's which only pushed him into me with more force, and then the slow retraction of them both. This position did not lend itself well to fast frantic fucking, but the power behind it more than made up for the slower pace. It was fascinating, watching Taehyung fall apart between us, each thrust making him shudder and moan. I saw the signs of his impending orgasm, and stopped trying to hold off my own, concentrating on letting the feeling build with in me.

I was nearly there, the edge of pleasure in sight when Tae grunted that he was close. "Inside me," I begged him. "We're safe, please I want to feel you come inside."

I was on birth control, and had no plans of stopping any time soon. The two of them had bugged me repeatedly about when we would start trying, or at least stop preventing, but I'd shot them down. Once I explained that I didn't want to risk having a baby when the two of them were only a year apart and the chances of them being enlisted at the same time were actually fairly high, they stopped asking. I knew it was still something they each thought about, especially any time we were out together and saw a baby or a small child; Namjoon had even bought a pair of ridiculously expensive baby shoes as "decoration" for his studio. But we were still young, we had plenty of time for those things down the road.

Luckily I was able to come just before Taehyung did, or maybe the feeling of me coming around him is what finally pushed him over the edge. Namjoon continued fucking Tae, who actually enjoyed the over stimulation, holding him up when he nearly collapsed on top of me. Joon had always said that seeing and hearing us come, knowing we were experiencing pleasure, was one of the things that got him off, and sure enough he followed soon after we did.

Namjoon stepped away to grab a couple washcloths and returned to find Taehyung still smothering me. Joon cleaned up Tae's backside before helping me to roll him off and wiped down his front, murmuring praises and words of affection as he did so. Once I felt like I wouldn't make a mess, I pulled on a robe and grabbed some water from the kitchen. Upon my return, I saw the two of them already cuddled together, their eyes closed despite their assurances earlier that they were well rested.

"Welcome home, my loves."

Previous (Part 2)

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

Chapter 1 - (totally uninterested.)

I tapped my pen on the page in front of me. Alexander III of Macedon, commonly known as Alexander the Great, was a king of the ancient Greek kingdom of Macedon and a member of the Argead dynasty. If I read the sentence three more times, maybe it would stick and maybe--suddenly--I’d give a shit.

Working at the library on campus would be great, I thought. I’d get homework done, get a fair share of people watching. Hell--the student center was right next door, leaving me with a plethora of snack options when I was stuck in the same spot from 8pm to midnight every Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Sunday.

“Do you have to keep doing that?”

I pulled my eyes up slowly, dramatically, if only to let him know how completely unimpressed I was with his existence.

“I’m trying to focus,” I nodded at him--not that he’d ever know the definition of that word.

“Well I can’t focus when you’re making such a ruckus,” his accent seemed to lilt off his tongue. I shuddered at the thought that I once--albeit with a fair amount of alcohol--found it attractive. When I first met him--when he was new on campus and still had that New Kid Charm, I thought his accent--paired with the long hair, the rings, you know, the vibe--was hot.

I thought, maybe just for a second, that there’d be steamy library sex in my future that I’d be able to brag about to Kristen soon. But alas, when I started spending my Wednesday and Thursday nights with him, I soon realized that his accent was rather overrated and his sense of humor was dry, sarcastic, and frankly, just not that funny. I especially noticed it when we suddenly were working every shift together.

I stared back at the textbook again. Alexander III of Macedon, commonly known as Alexander the Great, was a king of the ancient Greek kingdom of Macedon and a member of the Argead dynasty.

“S’cuse me--how do I reserve a study room for Saturday?”

I looked up to see Ethan Davis, who, up until now, I was convinced didn’t even know I existed. He had a sweet smile on, clearly waiting for me to respond, but in true Nora fashion, I decided that I’d just stare at him with my mouth ajar.

“Hey man,” Harry said, his eyes moving from my face and back to Ethan. “I can do it for you. What time?” He shook the mouse to wake up the desktop, typing in the username and password. 

“11am would be good,” Ethan said, keeping his eyes on Harry as he easily pretending that I wasn’t sitting right beside them.  

“Student ID number?”

Ethan handed his card over the counter, Harry took it and punched the numbers in quickly before handing it back. “Thanks, you’re all set.”

Ethan retreated, catching up with the group of boys who seemed to wait for him by the door. Again, another chance at becoming the future Mrs. Davis, ripped out of my hands by the worst coworker on the planet himself.

“You’re atrocious,” he said under his breath, turning back to his phone to compose a message.

“I am not,” I shot back quickly, feeling pressured to defend my honor. Harry had no idea what he was talking about. He seemed to be too busy finding me obnoxious and bossy to have the slightest clue what went on in my head when Ethan Davis neared the counter.

Sure--it’d only happened three times. Once was for a charger, the second was to ask what time we closed, and the third, tonight, was to reserve a study room. I would have handled it--but Harry was too quick and got in the way of what was sure to have been the moment that Ethan and I fell in love. He basically snatched my one chance at happiness right out of my hands. 

“You can barely even breathe when he comes over here. You might as well just lose consciousness altogether.”

I rolled my eyes at him, forcing myself, once again, to read the same line in my textbook. Alexander III of Macedon, commonly known as Alexander the Great, was a king of the ancient Greek kingdom of Macedon and a member of the Argead dynasty.

“What do you find so enchanting about him anyway?”

I flipped the book shut, pushing myself away from the counter and turning to face my less than pleasant front desk pal. “Well,” I drew out the word, flashing him a smile and fluttered eyelashes. If he were biting, I was sure to give it to him. “I mean have you just seen how dreamy his eyes are? And his hands,” I said, holding mine up in front of me to examine. “I just want them,” I slapped my own hands up to my chest, fondling myself for the entire library to see. “To be all over my tits.”

I figured that giving him the obnoxious reasons that a thirteen year old version of myself would have journaled about would finally shut him up.

Harry let out a quiet--yet dismissive--laugh, and shook his head. “Forget I asked.”

“I’m just answering, dude. Just giving you all the pervy details that I daydream about while we sit back here.”

He seemed rather alarmed by this, going back to his phone as he opened up Snapchat.

“Aren’t you low key friends with him, anyway?”

He clicked through someone’s story but didn’t lift his eyes from the screen. “Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“We’re not friends,” he shook his head and furrowed his brow, as if the question was offensive.

“Right--okay, he’s on the basketball team, you’re on the soccer team. Rival enemies--that sort of thing?”

“No,” he turned to look at me, running a hand through his shoulder-length hair. “He’s friends with my roommates, so he’ll be in my apartment sometimes. We’re not friends, though. Don’t get any ideas.”

“I don’t have any ideas,” I lied, leaning back to stretch my legs up and in front of me to rest on the desk, he peered up at my movement but continued to ignore me. “I just figured if you’re friends with him, we could all--I dunno--hang out.”

“I’m not friends with him, Nora. He just ends up in my apartment sometimes with some other guys. That was the highlight of my relationship with him, what you just saw.”

I let out a dramatic sigh. “You’re no help. And you didn’t even finish stacking the returns.”

“You said you were going to do that!” He got this confused and disgruntled look on his face, which, if I didn’t know how much of a asshat he could be, I would have thought was kind of endearing.

**

On a Friday night two weeks later, I found myself in the dimly lit kitchen of a frat house somewhere north of campus. Instead of talking to boys like I should have been doing, I was busy trying to talk Kristen off the ledge. Somehow, she’d convinced herself that being out late tonight would lead to her failing her test on Monday morning--which, she argued, would clearly lead to her failing out of college all together.

My days of telling Kristen to live a little were pretty much gone, especially now that she had a boyfriend, good grades, and a good internship lined up for the summer (a whole school year in advance).

So, as good friends do, I was standing by her side with a beer in my hand instead of near the pong table and the cute guys in the living room--but I was definitely bitter. 

“Hanson,” a voice greeted from behind me. I turned over my shoulder to see Harry, lifting a beer in the air to greet me with a tight lipped smile. 

“Not now,” I said, waving a dismissive hand in his direction. If I wasn’t able to actually enjoy myself tonight, the last thing I was going to do was engage in the usual behind the desk banter. 

“Nice to see you outside of the library, too,” he rolled his eyes, laughing a bit at the scowl on my face. “You’re missing a chance at true love, I see.”

Kristen, who’d only spoken to Harry inside of the library twice in her entire life, didn’t seem to find his joking funny. “It’s not true love,” she rolled her eyes quickly, annoyed that I wasn’t supporting her academic anxiety.

“You don’t know that,” I shot back at her quickly, staring back out into the living room to take in the sight of Ethan Davis--in a much more formal get up that the last time we’d crossed paths outside the gym on Tuesday night.

I mean, it was formal if you considered grey pants and a blue button down to be formal. But really, I was just happy to admire anything on his body.

“You two seem to be busy,” Harry nodded to himself, reaching around me to grab another beer from the fridge before straightening back up. “I’ll see you later, Nora.”

“No, Harry, wait. Would you please tell Kristen here that she has a giant stick up her ass--mainly because she thinks getting a B on a paper will ruin her life altogether?”

Harry pushed his lips out as if he were deep in thought. He looked between me and Kristen and then settled back on me with a smirk. “Out of all the people I know, Nora, you’re the one with a stick up her ass.”

I let out a dramatic sigh, rolling my eyes and turning my back to Harry. If he weren’t going to be on my side, I had no reason to be consulting with him around anything other than the Dewey Decimal System and where the New England Periodical went.

“I’m leaving, okay?” Kristen said, letting her hand rest on my shoulder. “Have a good time, get drunk, make out with you know who, just don’t wake me up when you stumble in at 2am.”

She offered Harry a smile but left us in the kitchen and I called out after her. “Don’t forget to remove the stick up your ass when you get in bed!”

She held up her right hand to give me the finger (lovingly) as she walked out. I brought my eyes back to Harry and he only smirked down at me. I hated the smug look on his face.

Harry--who was really just a goofy kid with hair that was too long and who’s favorite outfit seemed to be adidas sweatpants and a t-shirt--wasn’t that much taller than me. I was right in the middle when it came to growth charts. I was never that short girl who could barely reach shit and needed help getting things from the pantry.

I was also never the girl who towered over all the guys in her grade.

But here, in the kitchen of some college party with lights dim enough to barely make out each other’s faces, I didn’t like that he could look down at me.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I said, my eyes narrowed, only causing him to smirk more than he’d been before.

“Okay,” he said. “Whatever you say.”

**

It was 5pm--the start of my Tuesday evening shift--and Harry was nowhere to be found. I huffed as I logged onto the computer to record the start of my shift.

I typed in the username and password, rolling my eyes at the lack of creativity that the full time library staff put into this sort of thing. InformationDesk, password: AmericanULibrary123.

American University, home of lots of politician-hopefuls and a bunch of idiot staff, apparently. I mean, it wasn’t like people were dying to break into the information desk computer, but you’d think that a good university in D.C. would employ people with a bit more...intelligence.

My phone buzzed on the desk beside me, Harry’s name popping up on the screen.

Not going to be able to make it. What do I need to do to get you to clock in and out for me?

I let out a snort as I typed out a response.

Pay me a million dollars.

Seriously, Nora!

I’ll try to make it in about an hour or two but it’s not likely. I’ll buy you a beer.

I thought on it for a second, and realized that Harry did have something I wanted, and it wasn’t beer. 

Bring me somewhere to hangout with Ethan.

I checked out a book for a freshman who appeared in front of me, scanned her card, and then read his next message.

You want to sit in my living room one night when he’s over? That sounds awkward.

Well we can act like we’re friends, you know.

I’m a poly-sci major, not an award winning actor.

!!!!!!

Okay, looks like a small paycheck for you this week.

:)

Alright. He normally hangs out with Ryan on Thursday. You can come.

Wow, I am so honored. Can’t wait. I’ll bring the champagne.

Please don’t.

**

Despite Harry’s warning that he’d miss his entire shift, he showed up around 9pm with a backpack and a soccer ball in tow.

“Where were you?” I asked, thankful for the distraction and shutting the textbook I’d had in front of me. “Don’t you finish practice at five?”

“Had a thing, don’t worry about it,” he said simply, shrugging his backpack off behind the desk and flopping into the seat beside me. He ran a hand through his hair (which was an in annoyingly stylish man bun) and picked up his phone--apparently uninterested in conversation.

“A thing?” I pressed, leaning forward to lower my voice. “Sounds secretive and mysterious.”

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye--clearly unimpressed with my curiosity. “Leave it, Nora. I’m here now.”

“You asked me to lie for you!” I whispered at him, hoping to convince him to give me the dirt. Not only did he basically owe it to me due to the way I put myself on the line, but I was also just nosey and interested. “When someone lies for you they get to be in on the secrets!” I reminded.

He let out a sigh and clicked his phone shut, leaning forward to place it on the desk. “I do a soccer workshop for The Boys and Girls Club. It’s community service.”

“Community service?” I pulled my head back, confused by his words.

“Yeah--I owe one hundred hours because I punched Luke Billups last year.”

“What?!” I leaned forward, my voice still a hushed whisper because--you know--library crap. “You punched Luke Billups? Why? Did you get arrested?!”

“No, Jesus, relax,” he let out a displeased grunt and cleared his throat as he leaned forward to give me more information. I was enthralled, really.

Harry definitely didn’t strike me as the type of person to get physically violent--let alone get in trouble for it. He was a nice kid, kind of quiet sometimes, but clearly very sarcastic and argumentative.

“We were drunk and he said something stupid and I punched him and he had to go to the ER to get stitches on his eyebrow,” he said all of this as if it were very casual information. His voice was still quiet enough to ensure that no one could hear us, but his tone seemed to minimize their altercation.

“Wow,” I said, my mouth still open in shock. “So you coach little kids, that’s cute.”

He shrugged his shoulder but didn’t respond, picking up his phone again.

“But wait, so why don’t you want anyone to know that you coach little kids?”

He let out another sigh, seemingly annoyed that I continued to ask questions--but he continued to answer, so I simply ignored his eye rolls and listened eagerly. “If I do the hundred hours, I get everything wiped off my record.”

I stared at him, still sort of unclear on the situation. He sensed this, leaned back in his chair, and continued. “If my goal is to hold public office at some point, I can’t have a record.”

His answer made sense, but I got distracted by his blatant English accent. “Don’t you have to be born here to hold office?”

“Federally, yes, locally, no. And I’m a citizen, I’ve lived here since I was thirteen.” He sounded almost offended, so I pulled away from him and let out a sigh.

“Damn, that’s wild. I’m so glad to just be a journalism major. I can get arrested as much as I want,” I let out a laugh, which pulled one out of him too.

“Alright, so you really want to come over on Thursday?”

I turned back to my textbook, opening it back up to the page I’d been on earlier. “Not to see you,” I said simply. “To see Ethan, yes. Can you guarantee he’ll be there?”

“Eh, yeah, pretty much. He always at least stops by after practice with Ryan.”

“What should I wear?” I asked quickly, leaning my head on my hand to fantasize about what the night would entail. Harry’s eyebrows dipped in confusion, but he kept his eyes off of me as he pulled out his laptop. “Is it casual? Should I wear like leggings and a sweater, or--”

“Just wear that,” he said as he let his eyes scan over my body and my current outfit. Jeans, a t-shirt, and a flannel.

I rolled my eyes at him, he barely put any thought into it--which told me that he clearly didn’t understand the gravity of the situation.

“Are you sure he’ll be there?” I asked again, keeping my eyes diligently on him as he typed away at something on his computer. He seemed completely unbothered by my stare, only looking at my quickly out of the corner of his eye before bringing his eyes right back to the webpage he had up.

He let out a sigh and turned to look at me. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a little bit obnoxious?”

I let out a snort quickly--not at his question, but at the fact that he thought it’d insult me.

[bloojayoolie]

Anime, Apparently, and Ass: File: furies ipg (405 KB, 1296x968) 631157670 631165562 >»631166037 Anonymous 07/29/15(Wed)08:18:07 No.631156939 Alright boys, sit down for a tale of the most Autistic kid I have ever had the displeasure of running into Wolfman Greg >Re me >Be 16, around 2000 a popular kid either Kinda did my cwn thing really >Shared World History with this kid >His name was Greg il from arace and into autism >Greg at this point was quiet, and reserved, never did anything to get bullied >Especially after Columbine >Fnday b g to change soon >That Monday >Apparently Greg's parents had bought him a computer, and an Intenet connection sHe hvigusly hadn't showered at all since friday >He didn't really pay attention during class and was mostly drawing in his notebook >His smell was palpable Grea collected his things and headed for the door >Not before he bumped into a guy named Mike kewas hot pleased with Greg's odor >Greg stood silent for a moment >And then he did it Mike iust ushed Grea out of the way and made his way into the hallway and walked to his next class >The rest of the kids gave Greq a strange room for the rest of the day 631160061 631160215 631165562 >631165642 631165921 Anonymous 07/29/15(Wed)08:26:44 No.631158773 File: 1437110427545.ipg (418 KB. 1955x2048) day Appars sinstead he bought a gray hoodie, and some cloth >And sewed some years to the hood >At least he showered this time Greg didn't do his homework the night before >The teac her was this really nice vegan lady from Oregon >She was a little pushy with homework but that was it really ork to be passed up front >She askd theirs >"Greg? Where's your homework? >Silence 3She anproached his desk >The room was stranoely tense, before this Grea was a good student >She was standing at Greg's desk 3She reached out for a niece of paper she assumed was his homework >And then he snapped at her >Not like screaming or yelling, but he he bite her >The teacher gasped >Grea just got up and Naruto ran out of the room hing before and we were really taken aback by him trying to bite the teacher, but the way he ran >No one saw Greg for the rest >Apparently he got on a table, curled up into a ball and tried to nap Indian man in charge didn't care enough to bother him of the day until one of the Stoner kids reported seeing Greq in after school detention Anonymous 07/29/15(Wed)08:35:48 No.631160463 File: 1432672843827 ipg (1.79 MB, 5000x5000) 631160790 >631161301631165562 >Wednesday >Greg apparently wanted to make it up to the teacher euse er rold broke down vcle SOneele >She had what was left of a bug on her cheek that she missed She walked into class ten minutes after class started >She apologized for her being late >Greg walked up to her >Hood up >Shitty cloth ears flopping >She looked at him puzzled ant to tell me Greg? She was probably hoping for an apoloqy >Greg grabbed her face paper in his hand He nad lold And licked her cheek >And the bug quts too Grea then tueked the nanor into her breast pocket and sat back down >The teacher, as a testament to her character, pretended that never happened >The class went on as normal verge of tears the entire time while we were talking about the Boxer Rebellion When the bell rang again, Greg bolted full Naruto style out of the room >His hoodie came loose and fell off hair >Revealing a really shitty attempt at anime >After school as I was walking home I saw our US History teacher talking to the school cop >With her equally vegan and upset boyfriend there too We didn't see Grea for two weeks after that Anonymous 07/29/15(Wed)08:47:48 No.631162869 File: Scared ipg (67 KB, 656x584) 631163694631164020 631164078631164239631165562 Thursday, two weeks after the incident >Grea was back >If you think he was bad after a weekend of early 2000s Internet, Greg has been SCARED He clearly hadn't showered, at all He looked like he slept, ate and shat in the gray eared hoodie He reoked very poorly made tail to the back d >By this time we we The teacher decided to hold class outdoors for once to demonstrate some things >As soon as we got outside, everyone put themselves up wind of Greg Evnthing was coing fine we were discussing the Battle of Somme in the gentle Arizona winter Greg, what are you doing? >All eyes shot to Greg to see what horror we were about to witness with one hand in th He didn't andwor >Everyone turned back to our teacher PAnd then the digging got more ferocious e grounds keepers worked really hard to grow that grass!" >No answer, he kept digging Greg!" tensified Grestop ar Still nothing Mike stood up and started walking towards Greg to stop him had a foot deep hole about square foot wide >Fvervone stonned >Their faces when >Greg tumed around SAnd started to poo >Oh God the stench Evione flinned and oot as far away from him as possible >Greg managed to fill the entire hole up >He then lifted his pants And then buried it >The 9/10 goth girl fainted Greg got sent to the office And was sent home for the day 631164732 631164845631164983 631165088 631165130631165135631165162631165268631165307 Anonymous 07/29/15(Wed)08:56.32 No.631164486 631185639 22631166136 File: XaviOda jpg (19 KB, 320x240) Friday >Greg was tolerable that day, nothing happened The following Monday to class >Like realy late >The poor teacher marked him absent >Half way through the treaty of Versailles quess who showed up >And the horrar >We didn't see it at first, or for the next ten minutes we heard it Acnch >And not the normal granola kind >Like the wet, gross kind iting into a bone would make >The girl in front of Grea turneod around >She flipped her shit Greg what the fuckl" SA half eaten bird >He was late bec ause of this l aleo wotod to throw because he managed to catch a bird, kill it, and partially eat it The teacher approached him and attempted >Greg wasn't having it rescue the poor avian creature from this kid >A had o landed a bite on her >Mike had enough of this shit >Before he could react though Greg through his meal at him >The distraction worked o over a desk >He failed and landed face first on the tile >Luckily he had enough time to get up, spit out some blood and Naruto run out of the room eneheied te wcks of school bec ause of an infection though 31166912631166935631166956 631167039 22631167068 631167080 6311 Anonymous 07/29/15(Wed)09:06:19 No.631166557 ile: 1437626420912.ipg (298 KB, 1024x768) >About a week into our poor teacher's absence >The substitute put us in the computer lab to research some shit: Thanks to her fatness and her odor, she was immune to Greq's smell barrier >Qur schedule was fucked that day >They were having a assembly for 8th graders that would be attending next vear >So we only had our first class that >For eight hours We broke for lunch, nothing weird happened with Greg, yet. Swhen we got back though, shit started happening >Evervone had the post lunch sleepies >Half the class was napping at their terminals was helping the 9/10 aoth gid work on her Horror novel >Wasn't too bad except for some grammar errors >And we were flirting >The substitute fell asleep at some point, leaving Greg free to do as he pleased >And he was really pleasing himself T happened to glance up and catch it >Grea was jacking it pretty hard >He must have just started because no one seems to have noticed yet ou stanng a- OH MY GOD >The aoth gid This in tum drew attention to Greg Who happened to start climaxing >The next five seconds was beautiful the Grea nanicked mid cu >Instead of tuning off the computer a pushed the monitor off the desk p getting cum every the tard wranglers e ended >He was transferred out of regular classes >But this was not the end of Wolfman Greg d)09:19.31 No.,631168892 250x213) 29. File: 14315458 10401 gif (1.5 MB We went a month without Greg shenanigans l even managed to sleep with the goth girl a couple of times outside of class >He didn't speak much, but we nicknamed him "8 Ball 8 Ball didn't take Greg's shit, except for letting him growl or whine once in a while the end of Junior year we thought we had heard the last of Wolfman Greg >None >l unch time l was sitting with the Goth Girl, Marian and her gaggle of dark brooding sisters tables were >We were talking about Poe when it happened >The doors to the tard building burst open was Greg I watch him sprint out, howling >8 Ball no where to be seen en Grea wondered around for a hit before singling out prev This noor shy gid named Marissa >He snuck up behind her >Oh God dher to the table >And pretended to mount her >He had his dick out and was rubbing it on the back Wing like a woll te cattered f her sweater This had to be the final straw >This went on for what felt like forever 8 Ball finaly ehowed un after getting Arby's >Greg was expelled after this and labeled a sex offender >Marissa dropped out >That was the end of Wolfman Grea for high school I have ONE more, this happened six months ago Anonymous 07/29/15(Wed)09.31:26 No.631171137 File: LTXeu.ipg (127 KB, 800x853) Greg was allowed to join our class. Not join me in hitting that sweet pale ass in the back, and n the hood of my old CRX. I can drop that green text if omvone's interoster Six months ago seeing Greg He had left my mind entirelv >Driving through my old town to visit my folks >Then I see it >is that? >No fucking way >Holy shit its Tucking Greg Lom in furkino aw that he's got a sweet scooter and I'm on a second had liter bike >Nearly rear end a taxi >He pulls up next to me sna lcan fucking smell him through my helmet l nearly puke >Manage to distance myself from him and get to my parents place >Decide to meet up with some old friends for a nde >Step outside fucking Vespa in the neiahbor's drive wav >No >lgnore it and go cruise w hours later sVesna still th >Please no >Greg lives next door to my folks now Facebook Grea's folks died and he inherted a large chunk of change >Bought the house next to my parents > Is a complete neet. 1/2 A File: 1427957849766 ong (97 K s 07/29/15(Wed)09:38:56 No.631172339M 460x470) 631171137 anything but browse the Internet probably and do Wolfman things >Try to not let this crush my soul and crawl into my old bunk bed to sleep for the night >As l'm drifting off to the though of making the Goth Girl of yesteryear swallow my cum and calling it st'e furking howling >God dammit Greg >My boner is ruined It's loud too ing howling keeps me up until 3am L finaly fell asleep Wake up the next moming 60 through the day with my folks a shell of my formor self >lt happens aqgain >The terror is replaced with rage no window This is it "Greal It's 11 o'clock at night! I have to >Slam window home tomorrow and I need sleep! SHUT THE FUCK UP" SFall asleep and leave the next moming >A few months later mom calls me The cops entered Greg's home due to a smell complaint >Crea was deod >I inadvertently got him to kill himself ut the bou tom don It's now an empty lot >But I, and hundreds of others still remember Wolfman Greg God speed, vou magnificent. early furry trash bastard. Wolf man Greg

[canaryatlaw]

okay, well today was pretty good. At like 2 am last night I could just tell I wasn’t going to fall asleep on my own, so I took two benadryl and ended up sleeping till a little past 1. I got up, had some breakfast, and started working at 2. I just added some stuff to the statement of facts from yesterday and then spent the rest of the time editing the other brief, first going through and addressing the notes and then reviewing the entire thing. I stopped at 6:30 to get ready for soccer, our game wasn’t until 8 so I had a little extra time. Left at 7 to get the 7:16 bus (it’s a little bit of a walk) and got there around 7:35. At first it looked like we might not have many players show up which could be a problem, but as the game time drew nearer more people showed up so we were in good shape. There was a little confusion as to who was starting and I ended up getting pulled on the field at the last second. I actually had a really good game, definitely played better than the games up till now, so I was very pleased with that. the craziest part was that I actually sort of scored a goal??? which is wild just because of how it happened, I mean I had kicked the ball towards the net but it wasn’t really a good shot, but then the goalie basically tripped over his own feet and knocked the ball in the net and it was a goal which was just kinda crazy because like, I haven’t had a goal in like, 13 years now? I don’t play forward very often lol I just happened to get put there. One super annoying thing was that the refs were being super overly vigilant about calling off-sides and just calling them when it like, wasn’t even the case at all which got really annoying, I got called on it once before I even touched the ball which was like ???? bizarre, but okay. But for the rest of the game I actually did pretty well, I got another two solid shots on goal, one of which I knew was too far away to go in but was still a good shot so I felt good about that. at one point the ball got kicked towards me but was in front of me heading towards the sideline and everyone was like “Rachel get it!!” and I was just running as fast as I could while also being like “I am not fast enough to get this!!” and I wasn’t lol despite my best effort, I almost fell over when I stopped because I had so much force going forward. the annoying part was like, we’re playing better together as a team, but we’re still getting trounced, and tonight was particularly bad on that front, I think the final score was like 7-1, with our only goal being mine lol. but I wasn’t that mad because I knew I had played a lot better than before so I was personally satisfied with that. Towards the end the guy who had been playing goalie the whole time who had the previous ACL injury fell in the wrong way and had to be semi-carried off the field and like, this is the guy I already stated I don’t like very much because he’s kinda bossy and controlling whereas if I’m trying to take charge I’m a lot more flexible and subtle with it, but like once he was hurt my protective instincts just kicked in so hard, so when he got off the field I was right there with an ice pack and asking if I could get him anything else, I ended up giving him two ice packs so he could really surround it, and he was appreciative of that so I think we’re on somewhat more good terms than any previous bad blood, so that was good. I ended up going in for the last like 7 minutes of the second half, and ran and played like nuts but there wasn’t much I could do at that point. Oh well. Before leaving I gave the first aid kit to one of the other players so they could bring it next week as I won’t be at the game because I will be at SDCC! and I didn’t want them to have nothing. I checked the bus schedule tracker before leaving and the only bus showing up was arriving in 8 minutes and I knew the walk there was at least 10 minutes, but I still tried and ended up missing it by about 30 seconds or so, which is annoying but it happens. There were no other buses showing up on the app so I ended up getting an uber pool that was short enough that I didn’t end up actually pooling with anybody, and had a nice conversation with the driver about soccer, he was a ref for a long time so he had plenty of stories. I ended up taking it to the 7-11 around the corner so I could get a free slurpee then walked the rest of the way home from there, lol. Once I was home I got out of my sweaty clothes and went on my computer for a bit before returning to the brief I was working on just so I could make sure it was all good and finished tonight, which took a while longer, I ended up logging like 6.3 hours for the day, so that was good. I’m hoping my paycheck will come on Tuesday next week and not Wednesday when I’ll already be going to SDCC, because that money would definitely come in handy. but yeah, I finished the brief and was super careful to make sure everything was good, I’ll send it in like tomorrow afternoon so it looks like I at least gave it a lot of work (which I mean, I did). Once I was done with that I showered and started getting ready for bed, and now I’m here. I have to make it to Target tomorrow or I’m gonna run out of meds, specifically xanax which I really can’t sleep without, so that’s gotta happen. Hopefully I can convince myself to get out of bed by my 11 am alarm so I’ll have time to actually be productive, because I still have to finish the other brief before Wednesday and right now I only have the statement of facts written. So given all of that, I will be retiring to my bed now. Goodnight babes. Happy Friday.

[hamilton-one-shots]

Hamilton High School AU 59

"Hello, Hugh," Lafayette announced as he stepped inside.

He smiled and waved at Lafayette. "Hey, Laf. Herc's busy in his room."

"Okay. I'm actually here with my friends today. They want to look at costumes for that dance this Friday."

"I see. I can handle this. You can go see what Herc's up to, if you want."

He nodded and went to the back, smiling as he saw Sarah there working on a gown. "Hello, Sarah. That's a beautiful gown."

"Aw, thanks, Taffy. It's a commission for Tommy. He's giving it to John for the dance Friday."

"Really?"

She nodded. "What do you think of it so far?"

"I think John's going to love it." He looked at the half done dress, nodding in approval at every detail.

"Thank you. I'll probably have it done Thursday, so you and him can probably try them on at the same time. He may need a bit of help getting in and out of a thing like this."

"He might. Speaking of, do you think I could go see Hercules?"

She thought for a second. "Well, he'd probably working on your dress... But I don't think it would hurt to go see."

"Thank you." He smiled and went up to Herc's room, knocking on the door. "Herc? It's me, I came to visit."

"In a minute!" Hercules opened the door after a few seconds and carefully stepped out so Lafayette wouldn't be able to look inside, kissing his cheek. "Hey there. What are you doing here?"

"The girls wanted to look at some costumes. Your dad is working with them. And I heard you were working on something for me?"

He smiled. "Yes I am and you won't get to see it until Thursday. I want an extra day to make sure it fits you right."

"You have a talent for making sure things always do."

"Thanks. So, how did practice go for you?"

"It went well. I think we're all doing a good job with this."

"That's great. I know you're going to be great."

Lafayette smiled proudly. "I'll do my best. I'm going to go back downstairs with the girls."

"I'll go with you. I could use a little break."

He nodded and walked back downstairs with him. When they got there, both girls were trying on their costumes. "Oh, just as a warning, these girls have a little crush on you."

"On me?.." Hercules almost found it laughable. He didn't see himself as much of an attractive guy.

But he was proven wrong when the girls came back out and their faces went red at the sight of Hercules standing there.

He just smiled politely and waved at them, both of them shyly waving back before turning to Hugh.

"I told you."

Hercules just nodded, surprised by their reactions. "And here I was afraid that they'd be trying to woo you."

Lafayette shrugged. "I'm not everyone's type. But I'm yours and that's all that matters." He kissed his cheek.

Hercules smiled. "You guys have fun. I'm going to go get back to work." He pecked Lafayette's lips before going back up to his room.

"Are you girls ready to go?" Laf asked as he saw them finishing up paying.

"Yeah. They're just a bit starstruck," Theodosia joked, making Hugh chuckle quietly.

"Alright. Let's go." He smiled and walked back to his car, all three girls following. "So, what costumes did you girls get?"

Frances and Martha were silent, looking to Theodosia for once.

She chuckled. "I actually already got my costume a bit ago. We're here for these two. I think Frankie was thinking Elsa and Martha was thinking Anna."

He nodded. "I think that'll look nice. Who are you going to be, Theodosia?"

"Ariel.. And Aaron is going to be Prince Eric."

"That's so sweet. You two are going to look so cute together," he said, confident in his words. Theodosia and Aaron went together so well, anyone with eyes could see it. Aaron was obviously smitten with her and Theodosia clearly adored him and his chivalrous ways.

Lafayette drove the girls home before going home himself, resting as the day drew closer to an end.

The next day went similarly, ending for Lafayette, Thomas, and the girls after drama and ending for John and Alexander laying together in the latter's bed.

Wednesday was a slightly different story.

After school, Thomas caught John and Alexander before they left for the day. "Hey, sunshine. I'm going to go to Mulligan's to look at some costumes after practice. Care to join me?"

He looked at Alexander, who responded for him.

"Yeah, we can come. I should get a costume, too.." Alexander had spent so much time planning it that he'd almost forgotten that he'd be in costume as well.

"Alright. I'll see you then. Do you want to come watch our practice so I can drive you there after?"

Again, John looked at Alexander. He didn't want to force him to watch Thomas acting, especially not in a villainous role.

"It's your choice," Alexander shrugged.

"In that case, I think we'll just wait out here. I don't want to see it until it's the day of."

Thomas smiled at the answer. "Alright. I'll see you guys afterwards, then." He leaned down and kissed John's cheek, then just looked at Alexander to acknowledge his existence before going into the auditorium.

John sat down outside of the auditorium doors, Alexander right beside him. "Do you want to draw to pass the time? You can choose what we draw this time."

"Yeah.. Can we just draw something simple? Like... I don't know... the wall?"

"Yeah, sure." He took out a sketchbook from his backpack and Alexander pulled out a random notebook from his own before watching as John began drawing. He'd take note of what he did and take it from there.

John noticed Alexander watching and began from the simplest details, the lines that would separate off each locker and a few boxes where posters would take up space once the wall of lockers ended.

Alexander just stared at the page, surprised for a few seconds. "How are your lines so straight?"

John grinned childishly, the same way Alexander would before making a pun. "Oh, haven't you heard? All of my straightness went to my lines."

As expected, Alexander grinned at the stupid joke before bursting into giggles. "Oh my god, I love you so much," he said as he laughed. John knew how to make him smile, even in the stupidest ways.

"I love you too." He kissed his cheek and let him finish laughing. "You're bi, you're not completely straight. Maybe it won't be too bad."

Alexander nodded and looked at John's paper before turning to his own and making much more crooked lines, frowning a bit before trying again. Not much better.

"Don't feel bad. Seriously speaking, I did have to train myself to make lines that straight. If you can't do it, it's no big deal."

Alexander tutted and tried again anyways. "I feel like I can do it better.."

"But there's nothing wrong with those lines. That's what it would look like for most people."

"Alright.." He watched as John added more details to the drawing and copied them as best as he could, ending up making something decent. John's looked so perfect compared to his..

"Aw, I like it. Yours looks good."

"It's not that great.."

"I think it looks good." He kissed his cheek and smiled.

Alexander sighed. "Alright.."

John put his arm around him and pulled him closer. "You're a good artist. I'm not letting you go until you smile."

Alexander fought back a small smile and John grinned.

"Hey, Alex?"

"What?.."

"Did it hurt?"

"What? When I fell from heaven?"

"No, when you fell for me."

Alexander snickered quietly. "You're the worst.. Weirdo." He turned and kissed him, John happily returning the kiss. "Thank you."

"Anytime. I can't have my boyfriend being unhappy."

Alexander smiled and leaned against John until Thomas came out of the auditorium. He got up with him and held his hand as they walked out of the school, Thomas's arm resting around John's waist. It was getting a bit easier to deal with him being there after John had been so sweet to him. He still hated Thomas, but, for John, it was a bit easier to deal with him.

Thomas held the door open for John and let Alexander get into the backseat after him before getting in the driver's seat. "You guys ready?"

"Yeah, I'm ready."

"Me too."

"Good." Thomas drove them all to the shop, then went inside with both boys. Once again, Hugh was working the counter, busy with all of the other first years getting costumes that day.

"Hey, guys. I can help you in a minute. For now, just browse through this." He gave them a catalog of costumes before heading back to everyone else.

Alexander flipped through and stopped at the page of Beauty and the Beast themed costumes, John looking with him. After a few seconds, he glanced up at Thomas and sighed. "Do you want to be Gaston?"

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "You actually want me to join in?"

"You are paying for John's costume. And you are John's boyfriend." And John did ask him to at least consider it after he gave it a hard no the day before.

"Alright, then." He looked with them and found one that fit him and John best, helping Alexander find one that would go best with John's dress. "You don't know much about this stuff, do you?"

It was a casual comment, but Alexander couldn't help but feel a bit attacked. "Sorry I have better things to think about than fashion," he muttered in response.

Thomas just rolled his eyes.

"Alright, guys, are you ready for my help?" Hugh asked as he came back.

"Yep. What do you think of these two with John's gown?"

Hugh nodded in approval at the choices. "Good eye, Thomas. I'll be right back." He left to the back and came back soon with two costumes. "Sorry Alexander, but this might be a bit big.." He gave them both theirs and let them go to the back to change.

Alexander frowned as he did. Hugh was right. The costume was the right color and the right look... but it was just that much too big on him.

Thomas came out before him, looking nothing less than proud. "Alright. This is not too bad." If there was one thing that he wasn't lacking, it was body confidence. "What do you think, sunshine?"

"You look good." He smiled and nodded in approval, his smile softening a bit as Alexander came out, the look on his face clearly insecure. "Aw, you look great, Alexander."

"I look silly.."

"I think you look so handsome." He went to him and kissed his cheek.

Even that didn't move the small frown from Alexander's face. He sighed and cupped his cheek. "Does it bother you that much?.."

"I look like a little kid," he said matter-of-factly. "I know you see it, John.."

He frowned and turned to Hugh. "Would you guys be able to tailor this costume so it fit him better?"

"John, no, you don't have to do that for me."

"He's right," Thomas said. "John doesn't have to do it because I'm doing it for you."

".. What?.." To say that Alexander was surprised was an understatement.

"I'll pay for you to get that costume tailored. You know you won't be able to enjoy yourself otherwise and, by extension, John would spend the night worrying."

It sounded like Thomas was just doing it to impress John, but a closer look said otherwise. If he was, he would've mentioned John first, not Alexander. He may not have been doing this because he cared for Alexander, but it also wasn't just because of John. "Thanks.." he muttered, going back and changing into his normal clothes.

Thomas nodded and did the same.

When Alexander came back, Sarah was waiting with a tape measure.

"Ready, Lexi?"

"Yeah." He followed her to the back, eyes going wide at the beautiful dress that was there with her. "Is that... Is that for John?.." he asked as she began taking his measurements.

"Yep. I'm almost done. I just need to add a few finishing details. What do you think?"

"I think it's gorgeous. John is really going to look like a princess."

"Thanks, dear." She smiled and wrote down the numbers. "Is Tommy with you? Can you ask him to come look at it? I want to know if there's anything else he thinks it needs."

"Yeah, of course." He left his costume with her and went back to the front, where Thomas was waiting. "Sarah says she wants to show you something."

"What's up?"

"John's dress."

John's eyes filled with curiosity at the mere mention of it and Thomas smiled.

"You can see it when it's ready, sunshine." He kissed his cheek and went to the back, his surprise similar to Alexander's. "Wow, that looks gorgeous."

Sarah smiled proudly. "You can bring Johnny by to try it on tomorrow. I just need to add a few more details. What do you think?"

"I think you're the expert and John's going to love it."

"Thank you, sweetheart. Alright, I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll see you then." Thomas waved and went back out to the front, paying for his and Alexander's costumes.

"Thanks again.."

"No problem, short stuff."

Alexander tutted. He was still an ass.

John smiled and followed them out of the shop. "So, I've got a surprise dress, a surprise at the dance, are there any other surprises I need to know about?"

"Not right now. But I can tell you that you will love both surprises," Thomas said as he began driving.

"I'll take your word for it and wait." John held Alexander's hand as he drove and got out at his house with him when they got there. He waved at Thomas as he drove off before going inside with Alexander. "Hey, Alex?" he began as they stepped into his room.

"What's up?"

"Would you mind if I spent time with Thomas tomorrow?.."

"No, of course not. He is your boyfriend."

John couldn't help but think that it bothered Alexander and it did, not that he'd ever admit it. "Are you sure?.. I could stay with you.."

Alexander turned to him and held his hands. "Look.. I won't lie to you. It does kind of bother me.. But we all agreed to the rules and one of those rules was that we couldn't stop you from hanging out with anyone. It's your choice. I'm just a little jealous, it's going to take me some time to get over it. Don't feel bad. As long as you're happy, I'm happy."

John smiled and squeeze his hands lightly. "Thank you.. I just don't want you to think I'm putting you second to him.. I really do love you both and I don't love one of you more than the other, but I also don't love you any less."

"And I know that, but it is a little weird thinking about my boyfriend being with someone else."

And that was the thing that John had trouble processing. In the same way that he couldn't understand why Thomas would have sex with a stranger or in the way that Lafayette and Hercules couldn't understand why not everybody was pansexual and why gender mattered so much, John couldn't understand why Alexander would be jealous when he knew he loved him. Being polyamorous himself, it was only logical to him, but he'd never criticize Alexander for not understanding just as Alexander wouldn't criticize him for being that way.

"Just go. I promise I'll be okay."

John smiled. He could tell that Alexander really was trying to understand this and he couldn't ask for anything more. He kissed his cheek and laid down with him. "You are the best.."

"You deserve the best. I'm just trying my best.."

"And that's what matters." He kissed his forehead and held him close. "I don't know where I'd be without you.."

Probably in Thomas's arms, Alexander believed. but he pushed down the thought. He was not going to make John feel bad for something he couldn't help feeling, just as he'd never tried to force him out of his anger spells, just help him through them. John had helped him through so much. He was almost eating a normal amount most days and he was taking his medicine without a struggle. He'd even gained a little weight so his ribs weren't so visible anymore. With his small frame, it'd be difficult to get him to a point where his ribs weren't visible at all, so it was a great place to be, especially considering the shape he'd been in just two weeks ago.

John kept Alexander cuddled close in his arms and smiled. He loved sitting there with him, holding him close. It was so relaxing that it might have put him to sleep had George not called them all down for dinner. He got up and walked downstairs with Alexander, Martha and George doing a poor job at hiding the fact that they were worried about John.

"Son... About you and Thomas.. Are you sure this is a good idea? How could you trust him after what he tried to do to Alexander?"

"He's different. I honestly believe that he's changed. And, on the off chance that he hasn't, I can take him in a fight. I know you guys are worried, but I can take care of myself. You've seen me box."

"Years ago.. We're just worried about you, hon.."

"I understand that, but I can promise you two that I'm going to be okay."

The pair exchanged a look and accepted John's answer for the time being.

Dinner was fairly quiet, John and Lafayette's chattering filling the air for the most part. Once they were done, everyone went back to what they were doing and John laid with Alexander again. Between their full stomachs and the calming feeling of being in each other's arms, it wasn't long before they fell asleep.

[koinekid]

Kame Island Romance: The Article Part 2

Yesterday, I received a promotion at work. My new position has a lot more responsibility and a not-insignificant pay bump. To celebrate, here is a long overdue chapter of Kame Island Romance: The Article. This one is entirely from Krillin’s point-of-view.

Read below or follow the link to FanFiction.Net

<<>>

Rights to Dragonball and related properties are held by their respective owners. No infringement is implied or intended.

Kame Island Romance

By koinekid

1. The Article

Part 2

“We could bribe them,” Yamcha suggested.

“With what?” Krillin said. “I spent all my cash on snacks for tonight.”

As Yamcha fished his pocket for his wallet, Krillin watched his roommates help themselves to another bag of pretzels meant for his guests. All day long, Roshi and Oolong parked in front of the television, consuming their usual fare and evading questions about their plans for the evening.

The TV didn’t bother him. Krillin tuned it out while he and Eighteen busied themselves in the kitchen, working through a stack of board games he dug out of the closet on Wednesday. Since partnering up, she insisted they dedicate every spare moment to “training” for game night. And because Eighteen required so little sleep, she had plenty of moments to spare. Krillin on the other hand…

Following hours of nonstop gameplay that first night, his yawning became too conspicuous to hide. Eighteen, looking abashed, rose from the table without warning. Krillin worried he had offended her, but before he could apologize, she returned and set a mug of instant coffee in front of him. Touched by her simple (and unprecedented) gesture, he wasted no time raising the mug to his lips.

The coffee tasted awful. Eighteen spooned in too many granules and underheated the water. But Krillin drained the cup anyway, and the caffeine kept him awake long enough for Eighteen to earn her first Scrabble victory. Witnessing her genuine delight at finally beating him was worth losing a few hours’ sleep, and though he probably should have discouraged her gloating, he couldn’t suppress a grin as she pumped her fist in celebration.

Thursday morning, he found her at the table studying the printed instructions for the games they had yet to play. He sensed her impatience to continue, but she didn’t press, and he thanked her with a modest breakfast of cereal and juice. No coffee. By the time their bleary-eyed roommates joined them, Eighteen was setting up for Monopoly.

Her preemptive glare silenced any of their potential complaints—at least about the game board. Roshi finally got around to spot-checking the previous day’s grocery receipt and grilled her about the purchase of a certain magazine. Eighteen cooly suggested he regard such expenses as her delivery fee.

Friday afternoon brought another interruption as Yamcha arrived to pick up Krillin for a trip to the supermarket. The two had agreed to shop for snacks and talk strategy in the hours prior to the event. Eighteen wasn’t pleased and told Krillin to hurry back, taking his hand and slipping him her store discount card and a couple of capsules.

He tried to avoid reading too much into her actions: a hasty return meant more time to practice before their guests arrived; the card directed them to the market nearest the island; the capsules enabled them to fly rather than take the slower air car. And the fact that she held his hand longer than necessary with her thumb ever so slightly stroking his palm?

“She digs you, bro,” Yamcha insisted on the way to the market, and Krillin was starting to believe him. At the very least, he intended to give the mystery guy she was dating the fight of his life.

Back home, while Yamcha negotiated with Roshi and Oolong, Krillin wandered to the doorway separating the living room from the kitchen. He found Eighteen as he left her, leaning against the table and shuffling a deck of cards. With a crook of her finger, she beckoned him to join her.

“I should stay close in case Yamcha needs backup.” He gestured to the living room.

“You could do that.” Eighteen nodded, her pearl drop earrings dancing with the movement. She had forgone her usual hoops for a pair matching her favorite necklace. “Or you could let the ballplayer handle the pervs and hang out here. Assuming you aren’t sick of me.”

He gave her his best you-must-be-kidding-me look. “Never.”

“Are you sure? We’ve spent a lot of time together lately.”

“And I wouldn’t trade a minute of it.”

A smile blossomed on Eighteen’s face, and Krillin found himself struck by her beauty. Never unattractive, she had taken special care with her appearance tonight, ditching her usual blue denim and opting for a pink sweater and black slacks. It was the most overtly feminine outfit he’d ever seen her wear, and he took satisfaction that she chose it for an event he asked her to attend.

“Eighteen?”

“Yes, Krillin?” She set down the cards.

“You look—” He cataloged the words he wanted to use—gorgeous, breathtaking, perfect—before settling on— “beautiful. I just thought you should know.”

She murmured a thank-you so quiet he almost missed it. But the rosy hue of her cheeks said what her voice could not.

The whole scheme of game night seemed suddenly foolish to Krillin. He should tell Eighteen how he felt and let the pieces fall where they may. What’s the worst that could happen?

She could reject him, storm out, and move in with her ridiculously rich, six-foot-tall boyfriend.

No, something in that moment told Krillin that’s not at all what would occur.

He opened his mouth to speak when the voices from the living room reached a new volume. Before he could stop himself, he glanced back.

Soft laughter drew his attention to Eighteen. “Sounds like someone needs backup. Better go rescue him, hero.”

Krillin shook his head. “No, you were right. Yamcha can handle himself. I—“

“You would never abandon a friend, Krillin. I know that firsthand, and it’s one of the things I admire most about you.”

“But—“

“I’ll be here when you get back. Now, go before I change my mind.”

He wanted to plow ahead and reveal his feelings, but Eighteen was paying him a huge compliment. The last thing he should do was prove her wrong by leaving a friend to fend for himself—even if that friend would agree with his decision.

“Krillin,” she called out as he headed for the door. “I just wanted to say that you...look good too.”

Glancing down at the khakis and blue Oxford he changed into upon his return from the market, he shrugged. “Clothes make the man.”

She bit her lip.“I wasn’t talking about the clothes.”

As he blinked in surprise, she seated herself at the table and began an intense study of her deck of playing cards. He recalled one of their Scrabble rounds from a couple of days ago. During gameplay, he caught her staring at him more than once. Whenever he met her gaze, her eyes dropped to study the letter tiles on her rack with as much attention as she now gave the cards. At the time, he thought she was searching for a tell on what passed for his poker face. What if she was just staring because...?

Because...

He entered the living room with a bounce to his step. She thinks I’m handsome. She actually thinks—

Yamcha’s growl of frustration interrupted Krillin’s thoughts. Any progress his friend had made on getting the others out the door was apparently quite minimal.

“Come on, guys,” Yamcha said. “I already gave you enough for a decent meal.”

Roshi shook his head. “It isn’t every day one of my beloved students declares his intent for a gorgeous babe. This demands a five-star restaurant.”

“You told them!” Krillin said.

“He sure did,” Oolong replied. “And we’re holding a celebration in your honor. Got any singles?”

Krillin glared at Yamcha.

“Sorry, bro. They wouldn’t even consider leaving without an explanation.”

“It’s not like it’s much of a shock.” Oolong snorted. “The way you two are mooning over one another lately...it’s frankly disgusting.”

Roshi hopped off the couch and threw an arm around Krillin. “My boy, I’m proud of you. It’s about time you made a move, and you couldn’t find a better girl if you asked the dragon for one.”

“Master, is your hand in my pocket?”

“I, er—“

“If you’re looking for my wallet, as I said earlier, I spent all my money on those snacks you two have been shoveling in. I’m tapped.”

“All of it?”

“All of it.”

“Well, good luck, boy.” Roshi hopped back on the couch.

Krillin looked to Yamcha, who sighed and over-dramatically retrieved the wallet from his pocket. Roshi stood in front of him in a heartbeat, palm extended, and Yamcha handed over a fistful of zenni. Oolong replaced Roshi a moment later.

“That was for both of you,” Yamcha protested, but the pig only made a gimme motion.

“And we’ll need a ride to the mainland,” Oolong said. “The old man lost the capsule containing our air car.”

“Fine, fine,” Yamcha said. “I have to pick up my date anyway.” To himself, he muttered, “And stop by an ATM.” At Roshi and Oolong’s excited looks, he amended, “After I drop off you two.”

As Yamcha started to lead his entourage out of the living room, Krillin thought he spied a flash of blonde hair in the doorway. He narrowed his eyes, but as he entered the kitchen, he found Eighteen seated at the table exactly as he left her. She looked as if she hadn’t moved a centimeter.

On his way past, Yamcha paused at the table. “Eighteen, would you mind helping Krillin set up for game night. I’d do it myself but I’ve been corralled into playing chauffeur.”

Eighteen rolled her eyes. “Why not? I thought I was a guest, but apparently I’m a host as well.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” he said. “I should be back before the others arrive. You two behave yourselves in the meantime.”

He winked at Krillin, and Roshi offered a thumbs-up as they departed.

When the door closed, Krillin came to stand next to Eighteen. He debated asking what she overheard but figured she would bring it up if she wanted to. Forcing the issue would only lead to an awkward conversation. He also abandoned the notion of confessing his feelings. For now, the moment had passed.

“You don’t really have to help set up,” he said. “I can manage by myself.”

Her irritated brow smoothed. “I don’t mind. Kame House is my home too, and how it looks reflects on me.”

“Thanks.” Something clicked into place for Krillin. “Wait, you were just giving Yamcha a hard time, weren’t you?”

She shrugged. “Can’t have our friends thinking I’ve grown soft.”

“You? Impossible. One of us has to be the badass.”

“One of us?”

“Uh, I—I mean...”

“I like that. We are partners, after all.”

He offered a hand. “Well then, partner, care to join me in whipping this place into shape?”

She placed her hand in his. “Krillin, I’m all yours.”

<<>>

To be continued

Thanks for reading; reviews, like, reblogs, etc. are appreciated. 

Thanks to @chestnutisland and @deadlybeautydbz for keeping the flames of the fandom burning steadily.

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Resource Management, pt2

Word Count: 2069 Tags: @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @feelmyroarrrr @anyakinamidala @dirajunara @anotherotter @little-study-bug @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @samaxraph99 @anotherotter  @outside-the-government @kingarthurscat @coyote-in-space @originalpottervengerlock @dolamrothianlady @curiositywillbethedeathofme

The ringing would not stop, and I reached over to my night table, smashing my hand around to stop it. And yet, it persisted. I finally opened one eye and saw my phone sliding around on the sleek finish of the dark wood, the screen lit up, the ringing getting louder. Served me right for picking a horrible ringtone that got more persistent the longer it was ignored. I slid my finger across the screen and brought it to my ear.

“Hello?” I croaked, my throat dry. I must have been sleeping on my back.

“I can’t run.” Erin’s tone was panicked.

“What?”

“I tried to go for a run this morning because of next week. And I can’t do it. My knee starts to hurt after about a hundred feet and there’s this weird pain in my hip and my chest hurts and there’s a weird pain in my side now and all I did was walk a mile.” She drew in a deep breath.

“Okay. The knee and hip are an issue. Your chest hurts because you’re out of shape. The weird pain is for the same reason.” I hoped my tone was soothing because my words sure weren’t.

“What do I do?” She wailed. I pulled the phone away from my ear, and yawned.

“Where are you?” I asked.

“Outside your door. I have been banging for at least five minutes,” she gasped. “Oh my god, are you banging? Am I interrupting you and Agent Coulson?”

“He’s not here. What time is it?” I sat up and stretched before padding into the bathroom.

“It’s noon. Did I wake you up?” She shrieked, and I could hear it through my front door.

“Okay, I am hanging up now. I have to pee. I’ll be there in a minute.” I ended the call and shut the bathroom door, in case she could hear me through the apparently paper thin walls of my building. I brushed my hair and teeth when I was done and stumbled to the door, yawning and scratching my butt. I pulled open the door mid-yawn, and held it wide.

“Wow. I can totally see what Coulson sees in you. That’s a fine ass-scratch you’ve got there.”

“You’ll understand next weekend. Coffee?” I offered and headed to the machine to make us some.

“What am I going to do about my knee?” Erin threw herself onto the loveseat in my living room. I brought out a mug to her and returned to the kitchen for mine before sitting on the couch.

“We’re going to find a real running store and see if there’s an issue with your feet. And then I’m going to text my physiotherapist and see if she can’t sneak you in this afternoon.” I inhaled the steamy aroma of my coffee before sipping.

“Your physio works Saturday?” She asked.

“Yeah, she caters to a lot of the Monday-Friday crowd so she takes Sunday and Monday off, and opens and closes late during the rest of the week.” I typed a quick message to the physio office and sent it.

“I feel like something terrible is going to happen at the academy,” Erin blurted.

“Nah, you’ll be fine. Just don’t try to sneak into the hot tub,” I reassured her. I finished my coffee and made the requisite noises when Erin paused in the narrative of what had happened while I was gone. I appreciated the debriefing, as it would put any emails and to do lists she left behind into context. When my coffee was finished, I excused myself to have a shower and get ready to go out. Erin was busy googling running stores. My phone chimed as I was toweling off, and I ignored it, assuming it was the physio office. It chimed again right away, and then again. I picked it up and checked the messages.

‘Should be back on Wednesday.’ It was Coulson.

‘Please buy a bottle of whiskey. It’s been a long 12 hours already.’ If a text message could convey a tone, I was getting it from that message.

‘I’ll bring a pizza. Any requests?’ I suspected he was hiding out from his team in order to text me.

‘Chicken, Feta, Peppers, Bacon,’ I typed back, and added a selfie in my towel. ‘Miss you.’

‘I’m now aiming for Tuesday,’ he responded. I got dressed quickly, and my phone chimed again, but this time it was the physio office saying they could get Erin in as soon as we got there.

“Erin, let’s go! Physio can do you now,” I called as I grabbed my car keys. Erin jumped off the couch.

Erin’s movements were smoother and her shoulders had dropped when she came out of the physio office. She was no longer favouring her right side and she wagged a piece of paper in front of me with a half smile. The gleam in her eyes was mercenary.

“If that’s a note to get out of running, I will scream.” I stood and followed her back to my car.

“No such luck. However, I need a better pair of shoes. She has a written list of recommendations for the salesperson, she recommended a store, and she gave me a list of exercises to do to help. And a note that should help me get these shoes covered by medical insurance.” She flopped back into her seat and sighed in contentment. The running store was in a small storefront in the ground level of an apartment complex. When we entered, a salesperson greeted us, but didn’t pounce. We looked around for a few minutes, and Erin pulled out the piece of paper. As though it was a cue, the same guy who’d greeted us came over and offered to help. Erin explained her situation, and he looked over the notes from the physiotherapist before heading to the back. He came out with five pairs of runners to try. Erin went to work trying them on.

“Is there anything you need, while we wait on your friend?” He asked.

“I don’t think so. I think the runners I have are okay. I get a little twinge in my ankle, but I’ve always got that from running,” I answered. He checked on Erin and helped her lace another pair of shoes.

“Can I look at your gait? That’s really common, and we might be able to correct it,” he offered.

“Uh, okay? When you’ve got Erin sorted,” I agreed. Erin was disappointed to find that the most comfortable pair of runners was not the electric green pair, but the black ones that had the tiniest little fuschia stripe on them. It was my turn. The sales guy directed me to a treadmill, and instructed me on what to do. I ran for a couple of minutes and then stopped, winded.

“I have a pair of shoes that may help. And Erin will be jealous because they come in bright yellow. From watching your gait, I think your ankle is lacking support, and you pronate a little too much,” he explained and then vanished to the back of the store. He returned with two pairs of shoes. When I had the first pair on, he made me run on the treadmill again. I was waiting for the pain to start, but it seemed the runners really did make a difference.

“Okay, I’m sold.” I stepped off the treadmill.

“So you can take the yellow ones, or we have them in blue,” he offered.

“Blue please.”

I was ready for food by the time we finished paying. Erin suggested we try a little restaurant down the street from the shoe store. It was an excellent idea, and the quiet atmosphere gave us plenty of time to plan the rest of our day.

Like I had the weekend before, Erin was ready to blow off steam in order to mentally ready herself for the week ahead. In deference to my new relationship status, I kept it subdued, but Erin was like a peacock, colourful, gorgeous and showy as hell. I felt positively drab beside her, and sent a sassy text to Coulson to make myself feel better.

‘Erin wants to get wrecked. Am I allowed to let other men buy me drinks?’ I keyed in.

‘You are lucky that I am not busy right now.’ Came the immediate response.

‘I’ll take that as a yes. Too bad you aren’t here to reap the benefits of someone else’s hard work,’ I replied.

‘Remind me why I like you?’

‘Epic rack. Rapier wit. Dazzling intellect.’ It was in order of importance, I thought.

‘Maybe I’ll try to be back for Monday.’

Erin chose our usual bar, and ordered us drinks while I put my phone away. It didn’t take long for her ready-to-party aura to attract a few interested men. I tried to put my all into flirting, but sadly, I couldn’t stop thinking about Coulson. Well, it would have been sad, but I was too busy thinking about the next time I got to tear his clothes off, to be honest. Nonetheless, I did flirt successfully enough to get a mild buzz, and Erin was definitely the star of the night, so she wasn’t complaining either.

I called her in the late morning to see how she was managing, and heard the phone answer, then crash to the floor, followed by a groan, some scratching and finally after a moment’s silence, her raspy whispering voice.

“Who is the guy with his arm across me?” She asked. I stifled a laugh.

“Well, when I left, it was Matt-from-last-week. Peek at him. Is it?” I jogged her memory. I could hear the sheets slide as she turned.

“Yes. It is. I should go,” she whispered.

“I’ll bring pizza at around six.” I figured fair was fair.

“Right. Oh god, I think he just woke up. Bye.” The line went dead and I was left chuckling to myself.

Promptly at six, I knocked on her apartment door, pizza and beer in hand. She pulled it open and looked fresh. There were no telltale bags under her eyes, no puffiness. Her colour was good and she didn’t turn green when she saw the pizza. It wasn’t really fair. When I tied one on like that, I usually looked like crap the next day. Hell, if I had more than two drinks, I usually looked like hell the next day.

“Matt is SHIELD,” Erin announced, snatching the pizza from my hands. I couldn’t help myself. I laughed. “It’s not funny, Annie.”

“No, it’s totally funny. So was Rick.” I brushed past her to the kitchen, and grabbed us plates before meeting her in the living room.

“Shut up."

“Yeah, I was mortified.”

“He doesn’t know I know. But he talks in his sleep. And he kept talking about something on the helicarrier, and Captain Rogers.” Erin had big hand gestures. Coupled with a slice of pizza, I was worried about my eye safety.

“He knows Captain America?” I wasn’t sure she understood me over the mouthful of food.

“He was talking in his sleep. I wasn’t about to press for details.”

“I hope you don’t have my luck. Rick was the fitness instructor at the academy,” I offered.

“Awkward.”

“Very,” I agreed.

“So you didn’t pull last night.” She changed the subject as she dug into another slice.

“I’m kinda seeing Coulson,” I shrugged.

“Jesus, what? I didn’t realize it was serious.” She was incredulous.

“It’s been a week. Not even really,” I stated. “I wouldn’t say serious. But I really like him.”

“Well, you always had the hots for him.” Erin took a pull from her beer. “So it’s not surprising.”

“Not always,” I protested. Erin quirked her eyebrow at me in disbelief.

“Yes, always.”

There was really no defending it because it was true. He hadn’t been my only work crush, but I didn’t think the people involved with the Avengers Initiative really counted as attainable. And Thor did have a girlfriend. We watched crappy reality TV for a while and finished the pizza, and then sorted through her three suitcases and got her down to one carry on bag for the week, at her request. When I was finished, I headed home to bed, nervous about a week on my own in the office. And about the harassment seminar. And Tony Stark.

[prorevenge]

My kid does 13K in damage to studio equip, we handle it like lunatics.

[Part 1]

Some background:

I'm an audio engineer and score arranger full time in my self-owned business. It's how I provide for myself, my fiancée (also CF), and my mother. I record, mix, and master for bands, voice-overs for local commercials, and write music for people's weddings, college films, indie games, etc.. It was my passion since I was a child and every day I ask myself why I get paid to do what I do.

You know, until today.

I had a woman schedule to come in because she wanted me to record her monologue for an acting class. I thought it was going to be easy enough. I set up a mic and a music stand in the sound booth and got my workstation prepped for tracking. She was supposed to show up at 3:30, so when 4:00 came around, I called her to ask her if she was still coming. It was my last contract for the day and I was wanting to get home to my fiancée, dogs, and dinner.

"Oh, sorry sweetie, I'm going to be there soon. I just had to get my son from ex-boyfriend."

Uh oh.

4:12, she showed up with her child.

To preface, I've never really wanted kids, and don't really hate them either. But I've been childfree of mind for a decade now in league of several bad child experiences in public.

Anyway, I sat her down at the conference table and tried to talk to her about the contract and billing, etc., and just couldn't because of the six-years-old pile of ovary droppings next to her.

"Mommy it's cold in here." "Mommy, I'm bored." "Mommy, that guy has girl hair." "Mommy, I want to play on the phone."

The incessant whining went on for the entirety of the discussion. She did nothing about it. I had an ache in my stomach that this might be a rough session.

I was right.

I showed her to the sound booth, positioned the mic at face level, told her the basics of mic use, and then she floored me with a question.

"Can my son stay in there with you while I do this?" I insisted that he wait in the conference room (across the hall from the control room) because the control room wasn't a very kid-friendly place considering the 120K of equipment at arms reach.

"But he's a little angel."

I shouldn't have taken her word for it. I SHOULD NOT have taken her word for it. This kid was ANYTHING but. I let him in, told him to sit in one of the office chairs and don't touch anything. Needless to say, he touched. I queued the recording arm and signaled her to start. She got three lines into her take before I hear a deafening screech and crash.

That little shit machine had just knocked over a $4,000 Korg into a rack with $9,500 of equipment. Completely shattered the touchscreen on the Korg, busted the dials off of half of the effects, and totaled my distressor that I use for almost all the vocals I track.

All of this, by the way, was the room's length apart from where I told the crotch goblin to stay.

The kid, because of the loud noise, started full-lung screaming. Not crying. Not yelling. Screaming.

The mother, with no hesitation, ran over to the control room and DEMANDED to know what I did to her child. She cussed at me and accused me of hurting her little snot monster. Threatened to sue and even swung at me. When I told her that her precious angel had just racked up at least twelve grand of damages, she said "good", spit on me, then stormed out, slamming every door on the way. So I pulled the security camera footage and had filed a police report. Grand total: $13,504.25. I also mailed her the bill for her session for good measure.

Of six years in the studio, this is my only truly terrible experience. Fuck mombies. Fuck having children. Thanks for making my vasectomy decision that much easier on me.

[Part 2]

I'm going to start off and say that this community is bad ass. With legal advice, moral support, and inquiry of the trade, you guys/gals/other have made this whole endeavor a bit easier on me.

Cheers.

Okay, since Sunday, I've managed to speak with my insurance company, my lawyer, some repair techs, the police (again), and my urologist. For the sake of good storytelling, I'll organize this chronically.

Monday:

I left a message for my insurance agent about all this. I then called some repair techs about getting my Korg and the distressor repaired to potential working order, and to no avail. The distressor would have costed two grand to repair (on a $1,320 piece), so I wait on my insurance payout to replace it. Korg, apparently, has no replacement parts available anywhere in the US for their flagship keyboard, so another $4k down the drain. The dials on the rest of the effects rack can be easily fixed. May not look as stellar, but what can you do. At least it survived an attack from an over-metastasized cumshot. I ordered replacement dials from my local electronics store and mailed out the session bill to Mombie. Beyond that, I got in touch with a friend in Memphis who was gracious enough to lend me his Portico 5042 in the meantime. Should be arriving some time Friday.

Tuesday:

Boy oh boy. I went to my lawyer's office to see what could be done about Mombie's actions. He's thinking it'd just be best to let the insurance company go after the property damages, and that it'd be too expensive for me to recruit him for what the insurance company will do by themselves. As per the assaults are concerned, he asked me to gather all evidence (Video, contract, police report) and said that since no bodily harm was caused, it'd be the best idea to go to civil court rather than criminal, and file for a protective order. The words "emotional damages" were emphasized. He was very specific about not posting any of the evidence. As long as what I post remains vague, doesn't mention any identifying information, it doesn't stand in court.

"Make sure you can say it is a made up story if asked."

We also discussed revising my contract, more info on that when we get to it. Beyond that, I decided to jump the gun and inquire about a vasectomy. I have an appointment with my GP on the 7th of March.

Wednesday:

Reader beware, this is where it gets cringy. I'd grab a stiff drink if I were you. I opened the studio back up and got back to work. I had a voicemail left for me on the studio phone. A "lawyer", toting the most deep fried country accent I've heard, called me from a "Ford & Handcock" law firm (which I couldn't find anywhere on the internet) threatening "Immediate sueing" for "Sexual rape harassment" for filing a police report against his "client."

Here's the transcript of what I could understand through his dumpster fire of an accent: (I swear I'm not making this up) "Yeah, this is [withheld] from Ford & Handcock callin' to tell you that you're gonna get immediate sueing for what you did to my girlfri- client and her baby boy. Y'all know as well as I do that [unintelligible noises] was nothin' short of sexual rape harassment and that you're goin' ta be in a lawsuit if you don't delete the cop report you made up(?)."

I couldn't breathe, I was laughing too hard.

Once I regained my composure, I called back to inquire about this impending doom that I was promised by this product-of-incest harbinger. The call was forwarded to their voicemail inbox, where it opened up with the aforementioned accent, saying:

"Hey, this is [different name than the "lawyer"] and [mombie's name] and we're not here right now so if you could leave..."

So on.

So I just hung up and called my fiancee, emailed her the voicemail and asked her to listen to it, just to hear her sniffling and cackling like a maniac at the sound of this guy's six-inches-deep-in-cousin accent and overall misunderstanding of the american law system. I recorded the voicemail onto a thumbstick and giving it to my lawyer along with the video, police report, etc..

Thursday:

As of this morning, no call back from my insurance adjuster, so I'm just going to wait on that. I'm sitting by the phone, so if I get another call from "Ford & Handcock", I can deliver the "Do not call back/stop harassing me" line, so I can add that to the list of potential charges if it becomes a thing. Not very much else happened beyond that, and I'll keep you lot updated. Thanks for your support. *Edited to fix a phone auto-correct, what was supposed to say "Ford & Handcock" said "Ford & Hitchcock". Sorry all.

[Part 3]

There has been a... development with the mombie, dr /professor/lawyer/part time absent-father from Ford and Handcock.

I said in the update I posted before (Links at the bottom) that I had a call from a "lawyer" from one "Ford and Handcock", and am practically on standby for another call from said "lawyer".

Well, that call came on Friday.

So, guy called back, my fiancee was in the studio with me while we were taking turns playing Dishonored 2 on a "workstation" pc doing very important adult-like studio work, and his message for me was practically a carbon copy of the last one. I gave him the "Do not call back/stop harassing me" bit, to which he said

"That law don't apply to me. I'm a laawwyyeerr. I can do whatever the hell I need to do to do the law, even if it takes lethal deadly force" [sic]

Given the threat, I called the police, filed a report, gave them the original recording of the call and kept a copy for myself.

My wife-to-be did notice that the inbred gave the pseudonym "Conrad McMasters", which she recognized from the TV show "Matlock". Go figure.

So, skipping on to tonight.

We came back to the studio to pick up a laptop for my mum to use while in the hospital (just a minor fall injury, she'll make a full recovery), and noticed that the handle on the exterior door had been jerked loose. So, I told Fiancee to get back into the car and park down the street, have 911 dialed, don't come out until the all clear, call the police if she heard gunshots. I drew my handgun and looked around the place.

I didn't find anything, but the windows and outside door were damaged with what seemed like an attempted break-in, and a "Cash Express" post-it-note stuck to the stoop that said "U fucked up".

Shout out to U/VanillaG6790 (hope I'm formatting this correctly) for suggesting that I put cameras outside the studio alongside the interior ones. I only have one installed as of yet (DIY), facing the front door. So, I made sure nobody was around, waved Fiancee back to the studio, we got in, locked up, and backed up the security footage to see what we could find.

Lo and Behold, Mombie's car. A man (maybe the singletoothed re-imagining of Mr. McMasters from before?) yanked on the outside door with the veracity of a chimpanzee in the prime of mating season, walked out of frame (in the direction of the aforementioned windows) and stayed out of frame for about fifteen minutes, before returning just to scribble on the note and stick it on the stoop. He then saw the camera, shot the biggest 'O SHIT' face, and scurried back to his methmobile and sped off.

So to recap, we have a clear-view copy of:

His license plate

His attempted breaking-and-entering

His face. The pez-dispenser looking motherfucker practically spiked the lens for five seconds.

Police were called for this too. Details will be submitted post-trial, and I'll contact my lawyer first thing in the morning.

I tried doing it just now, but, DUH, it's Sunday, his office is closed.

Anyway, you guys are awesome. The advice I'm getting from you lot is saving me so much grief. I'm contacting the Bar association to tell them about the actions of Dr./Professor/Matlock-Impersonator/absent-father.

By the way, Meeting with GP (and then hopefully my urologist) next Tuesday in attempts at getting snipped.

Oh, and I've gotten most of the dials my equipment repaired, I ordered another KRONOS, another distressor, and got the Portico 5042 on Friday as a temporary stand-in. I have to give it to the Portico. Not bad. Not bad at all.

I'll keep you all updated as things happen, but I'm not sure when it may be. I'll post a micro-update on how the appointment goes on the 7th.

(source) (story by deleted)