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Void - Part 7 (M)

title banner by @rude–jude♡

Genre: Sci-fi with a little angst and a LOT of smut

Pairing: BTS x Reader (yup - all seven)

Summary: You are the only female crew member on a 12 year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all.

Word Count: 10.9k

Part 7 / ?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Warnings: explicit sexual content, alcohol masturbation, voyeurism, more non-monogamy

The men at the table stare at you, dumb-founded. Jungkook’s mouth hangs open. Hoseok hides his mouth behind his hand; his eyes are wide with shock. Jimin spins around, trying to gauge the others’ reactions. Namjoon leans back in his chair, face unreadable, his chin resting on his hand as he looks from you to your powerpoint. Jin laughs uncomfortably then clears his throat and silence falls again.

Yoongi speaks first. “You put sources on your powerpoint about how we should all start fucking?”

“It’s important to cite your sources,” you mutter, shuffling your feet.

Taehyung sits up straighter on his cot. “Are you saying we should start fucking you or each other?”

“Well, the bonobos do both. They are fully bisexual. Almost all aggressive contests are settled by sex. Even when two males squabble over a female, they often resolve it by rubbing their genitals together.”

“What?” Hoseok injects. “You want us to start rubbing our genitals together?” His cheeks blush.

“No, no, no.” You shake your head. “I meant you all should have sex with me.” Your own cheeks heat up as you say it. “I can’t control what you do with other people. In an ideal world, it would be both. But it seemed best to start with me.”

Jungkook mouths the words “start with” to himself, still staring at the table.

“But like, how would that work logistically?” Taehyung asks.

“Well, there are seven of you, so that could be like one per day. Take a week off for my period.”

Jimin splutters, whirling to face Yoongi. “Did you put her up to this?”

Yoongi shakes his head, frowning.

“No one put me up to this!” you argue. “This is what I think is best for the mission.”

An explosion of opinions pours out of all the men at once. Hoseok is swearing under his breath. Taehyung is trying to get Jimin’s attention, but Jimin is arguing with Yoongi. Jungkook wants to know how you decide who goes first. Jin says something to Namjoon that you can’t hear.

“So, um…” You struggle to regain command of the room over the chatter. “My period starts tomorrow, so take a few days to think about it.”

“Officer.” Namjoon’s deep voice cuts over everyone else and the conversation at the table ceases. “You and I need to speak privately. Now.”

The commander stands up from the table and gestures toward the door. The rest of the crew looks back and forth between the two of you wearing expressions of shock and confusion.

You avoid their gazes as you follow Namjoon’s direction out into the hallway. He steps out after you, closing the door behind him. A flurry of chatter resumes after the door shuts, but it’s too muffled to hear what the rest of the crew are saying. You and Namjoon stare at each other.

“So…” you say, shifting your weight between your feet.

“Let’s talk in my office,” he says, squeezing past you and moving in the direction of the sleep pods.

You examine him from behind as you follow him to his office, trying to gauge what he’s thinking. Are his shoulders tense? Is he angry with you? Are you about to be scolded?

His office is also his bedroom. And you did just offer to fuck him, no strings attached. But of all your crew, Namjoon is the one that you have the most strictly professional relationship with. His walls are almost as impenetrable as yours. But he is a man, right? And men like sex, right? It would have been more awkward to not include him. This wasn’t about personal feelings. It was about the mission. And you were all in the mission together.

________

Sweat pools at the base of your spine under the hot studio lights. A reporter drums her long red nails on her clipboard as the sound technician adjusts the microphones between interviews.

Press junkets are your least favorite part of the job, made all the worse by your mission director insisting you all dress in full launch gear, despite the launch still being two weeks away.

“This is the last one.” Namjoon turns around from his front and center seat to whisper to the rest of the crew.

Yoongi groans, rubbing his face with his hands. “Why do we have so many of them when they all ask the same questions?”

The eight of you have been trapped in this room all day as a parade of different reporters trail in and ask the same inane questions.

This new reporter opens with a softball. “How’s the food?”

“Good!” Namjoon patiently answers this question for the third time today. “The ICSE has recruited the top food scientists to figure out which foods hold their flavor and nutrition best in long term storage. And our chief botanist here is going to keep us well stocked with fruits and vegetables. Right, officer?” He gestures for you to chime in.

“Yup!” You are grateful to Namjoon for pitching you a question that isn’t about you being the only woman in a crew full of men. You’ve already had to explain how periods in space work twice today (short answer: pretty much the same way they work on Earth). “We have lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, peas, bean, soy, carrots, cabbage, chilis, potatoes, lemons, oranges and strawberries, plus a bunch of fresh herbs. They even found a way for us to grow mushrooms out of our culinary compost.”

The reporter makes a disgusted face at the idea of compost mushrooms and pivots to a new line of questioning. “What will you miss most about home?”

“Why don’t we go around the group?” Namjoon prompts. Even your commander seems to be fading in enthusiasm by this point. “I’m going to miss long walks in the fresh air, and my family, of course.”

Most of the crew answers with some variation of friends and family. Yoongi will miss his brother’s cooking. Taehyung will miss his dog who is going to live with his parents. Jungkook will miss long showers and his mom.

“What’s one personal item you’re taking with you?” she asks.

Namjoon is bringing a Chinese elm bonsai tree that he calls his tiny friend. Hoseok is bringing a stuffed Earth plushie given to him by his niece. Jin is bringing vodka.

The reporter narrows her eyes at the mention of alcohol and leans forward. “So what do you do if you feel a crew member’s judgement has been compromised?”

“We have protocols in place,” Namjoon answers. “Tests of cognitive impairment and such. We’re also coached in what we call “expeditionary behaviors” which are key to maintaining peace and cooperation on board.

Yoongi chimes in. “The key to solving all disputes is our ability to be honest with each other. When there is a problem, we sit down as a group and discuss it.”

“Our readers are saying what a tragedy it is that we are shipping seven of our most eligible bachelors off to space for a decade.” She laughs. “Any broken hearts being left here on Earth?”

“Oh!” Namjoon draws back and looks unsuredly at the rest of the group. This was not a question he was expecting to be asked today. “Umm…” he laughs nervously.

“My mom is devastated!” Jin cracks from the back row and the rest of the crew laughs in relief.

But the reporter doesn’t want to let go of this idea so quickly, so she turns to you. “Well, you must certainly enjoy having such handsome crew members.”

“Uh…” To your complete mortification, you actually blush in response. You clench your fist to try to get a grip. To your right, Hoseok’s hand flinches, as if he can feel the need to hold you back. “I’m going on this mission to find life on other planets.” You grit your teeth. “My only interest in my crew is whether or not they do their jobs.”

The woman shakes her head, laughing. “Doesn’t hurt that they look good doing it.”

_______

Namjoon opens the door to his office and gestures for you to enter. The number of papers on his desk seems to have multiplied, which theoretically shouldn’t be possible.

“I’m going to say three words to you,” Namjoon says as he closes the door behind him. “And then I need you to repeat them back to me: banana, river, finger.”

“Namjoon,” you cross your arms. “I’m not cognitively impaired right now.”

He mirrors your closed stance. “Please repeat the words.”

You sigh. “Banana, river, finger.”

He pulls a piece of paper from his desk and wipes it clean, before handing it to you, along with a pen. “I need you to draw a clock face.”

“Seriously?”

“Set it to quarter past eight.”

“This isn’t necessary, commander,” you grumble as you take the pen and paper, drawing a rudimentary clock face and setting the hands to 8:15. “See?” You hand the paper back to him and he inspects it.

He nods, rubbing his chin. “Repeat the three words again.”

“Banana, river, finger.” You put your hands on your hips. “You think my judgement is compromised?”

Namjoon sighs. “Everything seems to be in order. You must admit, your behavior recently has been uncharacteristic to say the least. Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Well, no, everything is not okay, that’s why I’m doing this.”

He leans against his desk, looking you up and down. “I fail to see how fraternizing with the entire crew will improve things.”

The back of your neck heats up in embarrassment, but you press on. You need the commander to be onboard with your plan.

“You admit we have a morale problem, right?”

He nods. “Hard to suggest otherwise. What with all the recent events.”

“Okay, so I was going through the principles of expeditionary behavior last night as I figured out what to do. Principle One: Communication - talk so you are clearly understood, talk about intentions before taking action, share information freely.”

“I know the principles.” Namjoon interrupts.

“But don’t you see? That’s why I had to call the meeting. Why I had to get everything out in the open, share information freely.”

“That explains why you needed to inform the crew of your relationship with Jimin. It doesn’t explain why you think it would be good to involve everyone.”

“Principle Two: Self-care - manage psychological and physiological health, balance work, rest, and personal time, be proactive to stay healthy and mitigate stress.”

Namjoon arches an eyebrow. “A lack of sex doesn’t damage your health.”

“With all due respect commander, I think it does.”

“There are outlets to relieve sexual urges other than exploiting our only female crew member.”

“Well, they were all trading porn with each other. That’s how this whole thing started.” Namjoon purses his lips in thought. That seems to be new information to your commander. You continue your argument. “Principle Three: Team-care - monitor team for signs of stress and fatigue - which we have a multitude of, cooperate rather than compete, encourage participation in team activities.”

“Are you considering this a team activity?”

“Well, yes. Like the bonobos do.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “Let me speak so I am clearly understood. I can’t prevent you or the rest of the crew from doing what you want to do with your personal time. But I can’t participate in it either. I’m the commanding officer on this ship. It’s inappropriate. We can’t have an equitable relationship.”

“That’s why it’s not a relationship though, it’s just sex. And if everyone involved is consenting...”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Let’s be honest about intent for a minute. Is that really what you want? You want all seven of us?”

“Umm…” Your stomach churns as you are unable to admit that, yes, that is what you want. “I think it’s best for the mission.”

“Part of principle three is to volunteer for unpleasant tasks if they benefit the team. Are you sure that’s not what you’re doing right now, officer?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Though embarrassing to admit, boning your attractive colleagues is not an unpleasant task in the slightest.

“You should also consider the fact that whatever forms do get signed will have to be sent back to mission control. And may get out to the press.”

“I thought HR decisions were confidential.”

“Juicy stories have a tendency to find their way out. Especially when they distract from failed missions that added years on to our trip.”

“I understand, commander. Information must be shared freely. I still think this plan is necessary if we’re going to complete this mission successfully.”

“Okay.” Namjoon sighs, dropping his hands to his sides. “It would seem there is no talking you out of it.”

“No, sir. I intend to implement with full commitment.”

The two of you stare at each other for a minute. An immovable object and an unstoppable force.

“So… should I go?”

“Yes, you’re dismissed.”

________

After the press junket is mercifully over, Hoseok catches you in the hallway.

“Hey, you coming to Tae and Jimin’s quarantine party tonight?” Tonight is the last night you all are allowed to see other people before you enter your two-week quarantine prior to launch. “Seems like you could use a drink.”

“I don’t know,” you sigh, leaning against the wall.

“What’s on your mind?” He leans next to you.

“That last reporter, she got in my head.” You rub your forehead.

Hoseok rubs the back of his neck. His jawline tenses as he mulls over what to say.

Hoseok is so handsome. And smart. And newly single. He broke up with his girlfriend a couple of weeks ago before signing the final mission papers. And now he was going to be the one of only seven people in your whole world.

In another life, you would want to date him. You’d be dying to go to a party with him and plot how to get him alone for part of the evening. In another life, you would have fallen in love with him. But in this life, he’d been dating someone else for the whole time you’ve known him. And you have a mission.

What’s most grating is that the gossip columnist isn’t wrong. You’d be hard pressed to find a better set of men anywhere on Earth than the seven you were leaving with. They were all attractive, smart, kind, disciplined, athletic young men. It would be much easier to be entirely professional if you had a crew of balding middle-aged men.

“Do you think it's a mistake? Me going on this mission?” you finally ask.

“What?” Hoseok gasps. “No! Why would you think that?”

“The mission director said it was supposed to be only men. That mixed gender crews are too complicated.”

“Have we ever done anything to make you feel like we don’t view you as a professional?”

“No, no, of course not.” Other than being ridiculously good-looking.

Hoseok’s fingers twiddle nervously. “And we won’t. We’re a team. You’re our colleague. This mission is so much bigger than any one of us. And you’re the best candidate for this position.”

“I’m the only candidate.”

Hoseok smiles. “Well, that’s exactly my point. We’d be lost without our biologist. Besides, you were better than all the male candidates even before they dropped out.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh yes, I do. Are you forgetting how badly you kicked my ass all over organic chemistry? And I was the chem major! It was such a disgrace.” You both laugh.

You smile at the memory: early morning study sessions, Hoseok bringing you coffee in exchange for your homework help.

“Come on,” he insists. “I know you. You can’t not go. You’re going to be the first woman on Europa. It’s been your destiny since college. Don’t you want to see it with us?”

Yes, you wanted to see it so badly. You picture the two of you looking out over the icy surface together.

“Come tonight.” Hoseok insists. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see. We won’t mess this up for you.”

“Thank you, Hoseok.”

_______

You leave Namjoon’s bedroom and climb into your own sleep pod, the question of what mission control or the press know about what’s happening on this ship weighing on your mind.

Unfortunately, googling it for yourself won’t work. It takes between 10 and 20 minutes for a single signal to get from your ship to Earth, depending on exactly where you both are in your orbits. Then it takes another 10-20 minutes to return. Usually if you wanted to research something, you’d submit a formal request to your research assistants back on Earth, who would gather a collection of relevant documents for you and send you a bundle of them all at once. But asking your research assistants to assemble a dossier on your rumored sex life was out of the question. You need someone you can trust.

You pull out your laptop and compose the following email.

Hi Dianna,

How are you doing? I’m sorry I’ve been slow to respond to your messages lately, things have been a bit messy out here. I was wondering if I could ask you a favor. Are there rumors about my personal life going around the ICSE? Or in the press? I was wondering if you’d be willing to run a quick google search and let me know what you find.

Thank you! I hope you and Melissa are doing well.

Dianna should have been on this mission with you. You wish you could talk to her in person. You’ll have to send her a video message when you have more time. But you are interrupted in your thoughts by a knock on the door.

“Who is it?”

“Jimin.”

You hit send on the email and open the door.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

You nod and stand to one side to allow him into your pod.

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “So I’m confused.” He runs a hand through his hair as he steps into the pod. “Last night you were mad at me for suggesting you date Taehyung. You said you wouldn’t be passed around between crew members. But now you want to have sex with the entire crew?”

“I’m not being passed around. This is my plan. I’m in control.”

He shakes his head. “The end results seem to be the same though. I don’t understand.”

“This way we don’t have to pretend this is something it’s not. It can just be sex, just release. We don’t have to pretend it means anything more than that.”

“But it means something to me.” Jimin frowns. “I have feelings for you.”

You sigh. “They’re not real though. It’s hormones and boredom. It’s just because I’m the only woman here.”

“No it’s not!”

“Yes it is! You didn’t feel this way about me on Earth, right?”

Jimin stammers for a minute. “People can change. Relationships can change.”

“Jungkook and Taehyung didn’t have feelings for me on Earth either and now that they’ve seen me naked they’re suddenly 'in love' with me. That’s not real. That’s just biology. We’re just apes in space with too much time on our hands.”

“Jungkook’s in love with you too?”

“I don’t know. He thinks he is.”

Jimin frowns, but seems less sure of himself. “Is this because I suggested sharing? Cause that was a dumb idea and I take it back.”

“No! You were right. It’s what’s best for the mission.”

“So what? It’s like this or nothing? I have to share you to have any of you?”

You don’t answer him. Currently, no one else has actually signed, so Jimin might get you all to himself anyways.

“Am I… am I not enough?” Jimin asks. “I can be more. I can do better. I can do whatever Yoongi does that you like so much.”

“This isn’t about Yoongi. It’s about the mission.”

“You said you liked me. You said you wanted to be with me. Was that just about the mission?”

“It’s not about what I want.”

“Yeah, yeah… it's about the mission.”

He turns to go, but you catch his hand in yours. His thumb rubs across the back of your hand. All the men are just as touch-starved as you are. It’s probably unfair that you are playing to that now.

You see an idea flash across his face right before he scoops you up into his arms, kissing you passionately. “I’m going to show you,” he whispers between kisses. “I’m going to show it's real. I’m going to be what you need. My feelings are real.”

Then he places you back down and leaves. You lean against the door breathless.

________

Mistake number one: You should not have challenged Jin to beer pong.

Mistake number two: You should not have said goodbye to your parents and dog right before going to a party full of strangers and booze.

Mistake number three: You should not have gone to find Hoseok when you are this drunk and he smells that good.

You collapse onto the couch beside Hoseok, too tired to stand up anymore. Hoseok smiles to see you, face flushed red.

“Hoseok,” you whisper, even though he’s already looking at you. “Hoseok, I have something important to tell you.”

He leans in closer. “Yeah?”

“Europa’s oceans are ninety-six kilometers deep.”

He laughs. “Of course, I know that! I wrote my graduate thesis on Europa’s oceans!”

“Yeah, but like…” You wave your hand. “That’s like soooo deep. Like not intuitive, you know? Like that’s ten times deeper than any ocean on Earth. I can’t even conceive of how deep our oceans are, let alone Europa’s.”

You scoot closer to him on the couch. “That’s like…” You pull out your phone to do some basic math. “That’s like 120 Burj Khalifas!!”

Hoseok nods. “Yes… It is super deep.”

“Stacked on top of each other!” You slap your knee in emphasis.

“Yes, I know!” He laughs again.

You sigh. “Can I tell you a secret?” You lean in closer and put a hand on his thigh. He leans in too. “There just has to be life down there. I know there has to be.”

“I hope so.” He rests his hand on yours.

“We’re going to find it together, you and I.” You grab his hand and squeeze it.

Hoseok looks down at your joined hands and you worry that maybe you’ve gone too far. Maybe tomorrow this will be an awkward and embarrassing moment. But right now it feels nice. His hand is warm. You wonder if it would be too much to lean your head on his shoulder.

But then Hoseok’s phone buzzes in his lap. His ex-girlfriend’s name flashes across the screen and you drop his hand.

“Sorry,” he mutters, getting up off the couch. “I should take this.” He leaves and the couch next you is colder.

“Hey!” Jin stumbles over to your seating area. “Have any of you guys seen Namjoon?”

“I think he went to meet that girl he won’t tell us about,” Yoongi answers from a chair a few feet away. When did Yoongi get here?

“So everyone is getting laid tonight, huh?” Jin laughs.

“Not everyone,” Yoongi mutters, nursing his beer.

“Don’t be such a grump, Yoongi. It’s basically our last night on Earth! Take advantage!” Jin laughs before wandering back into the crowd.

“I’m not getting laid tonight either!” You yell across the room at Yoongi. More direct than you would be when sober.

He cracks the first smile you’ve seen from him in days, raising his beer into the air in a little clinking motion. You do the same with your plastic cup full of what Jimin had described as “Tae’s jungle juice”. It was red and smelled like tequila.

“Why aren’t you getting laid?” you ask, taking a swig of the juice for courage.

“Got dumped, not really over it yet,” he answers matter-of-factly. “What about you?”

You shrug. “The only men here are about to be my only companions for the next twelve years. Seems like a bad plan to fuck them.”

Yoongi laughs. “Suppose so.”

“Well, don’t you worry. If that reporter is right, we’ll all be having space orgies in a month anyways.”

Yoongi chokes on his beer. “Shit.” Beer dribbles down his chin as he laughs. “I think we need to find you some ice water and a cab.”

“Probably a good plan,” you mutter as you lie down on the couch and close your eyes.

________

When you wake up in the morning, there are still no signed HR forms in your messages. Had you been a fool to think any of them were interested? How much time does it take to decide such a thing? Perhaps by putting the idea out there explicitly, it had lost all of its taboo appeal.

There are two other things waiting for you to notice though: your period and a calendar reminder that today is chili pepper pollinating day. After dealing with the first of those problems in the bathroom, you head for the lab to find Hoseok.

You find the science officer in the lab as always, sitting with his knee tucked up against his chest.

“Hey, um…” You shuffle your feet. Want to fuck me? No wait…

He blinks at you, bleary-eyed.

“Oh, you don’t look good. Were you here all night?” you ask.

“Um, was I? Yeah. I suppose. Lost track of time.” He rubs his eyes, before looking you up and down, then casting his gaze back to the floor.

All you want to do is ask about the forms. Or the meeting. Or what he thinks of you now. But you don’t.

“I need to pollinate the chili peppers today.” Usually Hoseok is the person who assists with that. “But I can get one of the other guys to do it if you need the sleep.”

“No!” Hoseok lurches forward, standing up a bit too rapidly and needing to put his hand back on the bench to steady himself. “I mean, I’m fine.”

You should disagree with him. He is exhausted. But you’d like more time to talk to him.

Pollinating the chili peppers is both time-sensitive and time-consuming, hence why it took two of you to get the job done. There were no insects on your ship to do the job for you and if the plants didn’t get pollinated, they wouldn’t bear any fruit. Chili peppers were your favorite crop. Not only a vital source of Vitamin C, but all your food benefitted from having a bit of spice added to it.

You and Hoseok head for the greenhouse together. The initial set-up gives you something to talk about in the beginning. Hoseok gathers the pollen from one flower onto a paintbrush, then hands it over to you to paint onto the stigmas of each little flower on the next plant.

Slowly the conversation dries up as you fall into a silent rhythm. Other than enjoying the chili peppers, this was also one of your favorite tasks on the ship because of the high likelihood that the two of you would brush hands periodically. It always gave you butterflies. But today he seems extra intent on keeping his distance from you. Was he disgusted by you now? His hands are trembling.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

His hand twitches so hard that a little rain of yellow pollen cascades onto the floor. He curses in frustration before turning to face you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

"I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“This, um, plan of yours…” he gestures to the vague tension in the air. “It doesn’t feel like you.”

“I’m trying to save the mission. That has always been my top priority.”

“Yeah, I’m still not clear on how this benefits the mission.”

“I outlined it all in my presentation. Plus Yoongi said…” you start to say, but are cut off by Hoseok's derisive snort.

“Look, if you’re in love with Yoongi, go date him, okay? Don’t feel obligated to include the rest of us out of pity.”

You frown. “I’m not… I’m not in love with him. It’s just sex. Just biology.”

“This isn’t you!” Hoseok argues back. “You hated the idea of anyone ever treating you that way. And now you want all of us to… to… use you like that?” He splutters out the end of the sentence.

“No one is using me! This is my plan!”

He sighs. “Well, I can’t be a part of it. Excuse me.” He leaves you alone in the greenhouse.

Your lower lip trembles and you bite it to stop it. He’s disgusted by you. Yoongi was wrong; Hoseok doesn’t want you. It takes you the rest of the day to finish the pollinating on your own.

_____

There are no forms waiting for you when you wake up the next morning either. Perhaps this was a mistake after all. If the men aren’t looking for release in the same way you are, then there’s no point to any of this. Even Jimin has been keeping his distance, so all you’ve done is mess up the one relationship you did have and offend your commander and colleagues.

Your tablet buzzes with a notification. It’s a reply from Dianna.

It’s great to hear from you! I hope things aren’t too crazy up there. I haven’t heard any rumors at work, but I’ve not been directly involved with your mission. We’ve started the plans for Titan and it’s taking most of my focus. I can ask around though if you want me to. I was surprised to find this article when I googled. Is this accurate? I assumed you would have said something.

Hope you are well! Melissa and I are going to send you a video of our new puppy.

Dianna

There is a pdf of a magazine article attached to the email entitled “Love Amongst the Stars”. At the top is one of the official launch photos of the whole crew that has been zoomed and cropped so that it’s only you and Jimin sitting next to each other. The tagline reads “How two astronauts had to leave Earth to find each other”. It makes you cringe so hard you have to put the tablet down for a minute before you can read on.

It’s some sort of fluff piece about a secret affair between you and the mission specialist. You scan the article, trying to figure out what they know. “A source close to the couple spoke with us...” Who is their source? You haven’t told anyone on Earth about what's going on with Jimin.

“Coworkers said they always sensed a special connection between the two…” This is nonsense. Jimin is one of the crew members you knew the least about prior to launch.

“Other crew members are very supportive…” Uh, sure.

“Maybe we’ll even get our first space wedding…” You groan out loud, closing the pdf.

Maybe that seals it then. You’ll just be space-married to Jimin for the next 12 years and that will be that. The idea makes you feel a bit claustrophobic in your tiny sleep pod, so you throw on your exercise clothes and head for the gym to try to clear your head.

_____

What you call “the gym” is actually just a bunch of resistance bands and cardio equipment stashed into the walls of one corner of the hangar. When the gravity was off, you had a variety of different choices for which equipment to use. There was a treadmill in the ceiling and an elliptical in the wall so multiple people could use the equipment in your off hours. But with the gravity on, the stationary bike on the floor is your only option.

As you begin your warm-up on the bike, you mull over your next move. Why hadn’t any of the other men come and talked to you yet? Jungkook had confessed to you, why wasn’t he signing up now? And Yoongi? Yoongi said he wanted a form only a few days ago. Why did it feel so different now?

Were you stupid? Had you embarrassed yourself in front of your entire crew for no reason? Maybe Namjoon and Hoseok were right and this was a bad plan. You pedal faster, trying to burn out some of the tension in your lungs.

The radio buzzes and Taehyung’s deep voice sounds in your in-ear. “Looking for a location for our biologist.”

“I’m in the gym,” you radio back, pausing your bike ride to catch your breath.

Moments later, Taehyung pokes his head in the door of the hangar. It’s good to see him up and about, even if his arm is still in a sling.

“Hey.” He steps into the room, adjusting his hair with his one good hand. “I need to talk to you about this, um, ape sex thing.”

Oh my gosh, is it finally happening? Maybe Jimin was right. Maybe Taehyung is more interested in you than you had realized. He fishes into his pocket and pulls out his tablet. You wish you weren’t so sweaty and gross for this conversation. Taehyung is such an intimidatingly attractive man.

Taehyung opens up the tablet and flips to the form as he walks closer to you. It’s happening. He’s going to sign the form. Shit. Then what will you do? It’s one thing to say you want to have sex with your whole crew, but what if he’s hoping to go right now? You need a shower.

Taehyung has nice hands. Long strong fingers delicately navigate the touch screen. It seems totally improbable that a man this attractive would be into you, even if you were the only woman in the universe. It adds to your suspicions that hormones are driving everyone crazy. Perhaps if you slept with him once, he’d lose all interest.

He finds the form and then turns his gaze up to you, staring you down with those eyes. It’s a good thing Taehyung rarely turns his full gaze on you, because it is almost too much to bear. Shit, is he going to sign it? Is he waiting for you to give him some sort of signal?

“You can’t do this to Jimin,” he says.

“What?” Not what you were expecting. “Do what to Jimin?”

“This.” He gestures over the HR form. “Signing these forms with everyone. Having sex with everyone. You’re going to destroy Jimin.”

“Jimin’s the one who suggested this whole thing in the first place.” It’s a lie. You know it's a lie. Or at least a gross exaggeration. But Jimin was the one who first brought up the idea of sharing. All for the benefit of the man in front of you now.

“No way.” Taehyung scoffs, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “No way was it Jimin’s idea that you sleep with the whole crew.”

“Well…” You can’t bear his gaze anymore and look down at the floor. “He wanted me to sleep with you.”

“What?” He puts down the tablet. “Why would he want that?”

“He, um…” You rub your arm. “He thinks you’re in love with me.”

“What?” There is only surprise on Taehyung’s face. It’s actually a relief to see that Taehyung is as shocked by that idea as you were. “Why does he think that?”

“I don’t know…” You feel kind of dumb now. Of course, Taehyung doesn’t feel that way about you. Look at him. “Cause you told him you were jealous. Cause you can’t stand to be in the same room as us.”

Taehyung bites his lip. “Oh, um, shit, sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?” you ask. If Taehyung wasn’t jealous of Jimin, then...“Who are you jealous of?”

“Nevermind…” Taehyung stumbles backward, putting his tablet back in his pocket. “Forget I said anything.”

“No wait,” you get up off the bike to chase after him, catching by the sleeve. As he turns around, you make a show of turning off your microphone. He does the same. “Are you jealous of me?” you ask. “Do you like Jimin?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen and he bites his lip. He glances toward the camera in the corner of the room, then stands up and begins unzipping his jumpsuit.

“Um…” You are distracted by the golden arms that peak from either side of the tank top as the zipper reaches his groin. “What are you doing?”

“Need something to block the camera.”

“We have towels,” you mutter. But now he’s attempting to peel the tank top up over his head.

“Yeah, but this way anyone watching will think we’re having sex.” He answers. “Shit, can you give me a hand?” In his attempts to remove his shirt, he seems to have forgotten he is wearing the arm sling and is now stuck with his shirt over his head. His injured shoulder is black and blue from his accident with the ROV.

You gingerly try to disentangle him without getting too close to his warm, bare skin. You succeed in freeing him from his shirt and he tosses it up and over the camera.

“You want them to think we’re having sex?” you ask.

“Don’t you? It plays right into your whole ‘save the mission with bonobo sex’ plan.” He zips his jumpsuit back up as he turns around.

“I suppose.” Though the plan was also supposed to be that there would be no more secrets between the crew. “What plan of yours does it play into?”

“The one where Jimin doesn’t realize I’m in love with him.”

Of course, Taehyung is in love with Jimin. That makes so much more sense. They’ve been so close for so long. And Taehyung has always paid very close attention to anything going on with Jimin. “You’ve never tried to tell him?”

Taehyung laughs wryly and shakes his head. “How would that conversation go? Hey man, I know we’ve known each other for years and I’ve already seen you naked and that you just think of me as a friend, but I’m in love with you. I know that’s awkward but now you have to spend the next twelve years with me, knowing that I’m attracted to you when you don’t feel the same way.” Taehyung sighs. “Doesn’t sound like a good plan to me. If he doesn’t feel the same way, I’ve ruined the friendship for nothing and then I don’t even have that.”

“Yeah… I get that.” There’s something touching about realizing that Taehyung has been fighting the same battle as you for the last two years.

“I couldn’t tell anyone before launch because what if they wouldn’t let me go then? You know?”

“Yeah, the director wasn’t big on sending anyone who might ‘complicate’ the mission.” The two of you share a sad knowing smile.

“Yeah… And I thought it would be fine, you know? I like women too. I’d just date women until launch and no one would know. I wasn’t planning on falling in love with my roommate.”

“I don’t think any of us knew what this would be like.”

“I knew it was going to be a problem. I should have pulled out…” he continues.

Your mind flashes back to your own moment of doubt when Hoseok talked you into still coming on the mission.

Taehyung sighs and leans against the ice drill. “But I couldn’t just let him go off into space without me. Even if he’d never feel the same way, at least he’d still be in my life.”

The emotion in Taehyung’s words makes your eyes begin to mist. “You really love him.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung sighs again. “But he’s in love with you.”

“Well, he thinks he is.”

“What does that mean?”

“He only feels that way about me cause he thinks I’m the only option.” Maybe he would feel differently if he knew about Taehyung’s feelings.

Taehyung frowns and shakes his head. “You don’t give him enough credit.”

“Oh come on, you know him. How many women did he date while we were in training?”

“A few…”

“And how many of them was he in love with before he found the next one?”

Taehyung purses his lips. He can’t argue with that. “So why are you with him then, if you don’t think it’s real?”

You shrug, rubbing your arm. “I like him. Lord knows he’s attractive. And he wants me. It’s nice to feel wanted, I guess.”

“You could have that with any man on this ship though...”

You scoff. “They’re all suffering the same delusion. It’s only-available-vagina syndrome. I just want us all to fuck and get it out in the open. Maybe if we could get it out of our system, they would see I’m nothing special. And then we can get back to the mission.”

Taehyung eyes you up and down. “You don’t give yourself enough credit either.”

You shrug. “You wait and see. Jimin will get bored of me. They all will.”

Taehyung pulls his tablet back out of his pocket. “Do you really think that if everyone just like, banged it out, that it would help morale?”

“Well, it certainly couldn’t get any worse.”

“And Jimin thinks I’m in love with you?” He reopens the HR form and stares at it.

You nod.

“What if I signed this? And we let him think that for a little longer? Just until I figure out how to tell him the truth?

“Like we’d pretend the two of us are involved?” Maybe that would help you get the other men on board with your plan.

Taehyung nods. “Would that be okay?”

“Yeah, that would work.”

Taehyung smiles and signs the bottom of the form, then sends it to you. “Thank you,” he says before he leaves you to resume your workout.

______

Other than Taehyung, no one else approaches you over the next few days. If anything, the crew seems to be treating you more professionally than they did before you announced your plan to fuck them all. You have signed forms from Jimin and Taehyung and have been rejected by Namjoon and Hoseok, but you’ve heard nothing either way from the other three. What are they waiting for?

By the time you reach the end of the Monday morning weekly meeting, you’ve had enough waiting.

Namjoon finishes his debrief of the week’s goals and claps his hands. “Anyone have anything else mission related we need to discuss?”

“My period is over,” you announce to your assembled crew.

A muscle pulses in Namjoon’s jaw. “Officer, I wouldn’t consider that mission-related.”

You cross your arms and lean back in your chair. “Just freely sharing information.”

“Already?” Jungkook asks. “I thought you said it would take a week.”

“No, finished this morning. It varies a bit from cycle to cycle.” you answer. Hoseok’s leg begins aggressively bouncing up and down next to you, but you press on. “I need to make a schedule. So I need to know who’s in and who’s out.”

“Ooh, what if you shared out your tracker info so we’re all on the same page.” Taehyung enthuses.

Yoongi scoffs. “Why don’t we just add it to our mission task list then?”

“I’m not clear on why menstruating means we can’t have sex,” Jimin interjects.

“Enough!” Namjoon regains everyone’s attention. “We need clear boundaries between what is personal and what is professional. Right now, you all have jobs to do. Dismissed.”

________

By the time you finish your chores for the day, you have convinced yourself that getting the rest of the team on board is essential to your successful completion of the mission. So you go in search of Yoongi.

You find him in his workshop. Pieces of an air filter are spread out on the workbench and he’s in the middle of cleaning it. You had forgotten that is the actual purpose of the workbench. So much for climbing on top of it and seducing him that way.

He looks up when you enter and you decide to cut to the chase. “I haven’t gotten your HR form yet.”

“Yeah…” He goes back to inspecting the clogged tube in front of him.

“You said you wanted to sign one with me.”

“I did say that, yes.”

“And now you don’t?” You thought if anyone was going to be supportive of the plan, it would be Yoongi.

He sets down the part he had been inspecting. “Have you really thought this through?”

“Yes!” You put your hands on your hips. “I made a whole powerpoint! With sources!!”

“I think it's a bad plan.” He picks up another long tube full of dust and threads a brush through it.

“I thought you’d be onboard with this plan. You said if I was fucking everyone, there’s no need for jealousy.”

“Yeah, well, I was wrong.” He sets the tube down and turns around to look at you directly. “ Is that really what you want?”

Why is he questioning you now? He was the one who put this whole idea in your head. He was the one who knew all your fantasies. “But you said…"

“I know what I said.” He begins pacing back and forth in front of the workbench. “But there’s a difference between a fantasy and a reality. You really want to have sex with a different man every day for 12 years on some kind of rotating daily schedule? Like how we water the crops?”

“You’re mad there’s a schedule?” You try to come closer to him, but he backs away from you, turning back to the air filter.

“Sexual desire doesn’t run on a clock, you know,” he says as he starts to pack up the equipment. “What if you’re not feeling it that day? What if they’re not?”

“I’m just trying to be fair to everyone.”

“But nobody actually gets what they want!” He throws his hands up in exasperation.

“And what do you want, Yoongi?”

He pauses, then deflates, dropping his hands to his sides. “Nevermind, forget about it.” He grabs a wet wipe off the shelf and begins cleaning the dust of his hands, not looking at you.

“No!” He’s the one who has been egging you on this whole time. “You were the one who was all ‘you have to fuck Jimin to save the mission’. You said you didn’t care if I fucked Jimin too. What do you want from me, Min Yoongi?”

“I’m going to go get some dinner.” He mutters, throwing the dirty wipe in the trash and turning to leave.

Oh no. He’s not going to escape you that easily. You need some straight answers. “You started all this, Yoongi! You said every man on this ship wanted to fuck me and none of them do! What was that?” You follow him down the hall toward the kitchen.

He stops and turns around in the middle of the hall. “This isn’t all on me! You made choices too!”

“Because of what I thought you wanted!” you yell back. “What is your deal? First you want me to fuck you, then you dont. Then you want me to fuck everyone and then you don’t. What do you want from me?” Your voice is echoing down the hallway but you are way past caring about it.

Yoongi opens and closes his mouth, then spins back around and heads for the kitchen, with you trailing behind him.

Jungkook is sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of ramen. He looks up, startled as the two of you barge in.

“And what about you?” You fire the question at your youngest crew member. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

The poor boy nearly chokes on his noodles. “I, um…” He swallows, wide eyes glancing between you and Yoongi.

You lean against the table next to Jungkook as Yoongi steps around the two of you to head for the pantry, but you see his fist clench as he walks by. You lean closer to Jungkook. “Didn’t you enjoy my video? Don’t you want to see the real thing?”

“Uh...” Jungkook glances at Yoongi again. “Maybe the two of you should talk this out…”

Yoongi’s hands tremble, but he doesn’t turn around, intent on starting the rice cooker. You turn your focus to Jungkook instead. “This isn’t about him. Whatever the flight engineer wants to do is up to him. He knows where I stand. This is about you and I.” You are going to get a man on this ship to fuck you. Today.

“It’s not like I’m not interested…” Jungkook’s knee bounces up and down rapidly as he watches you. “But I told you I was in love with you and you literally had a panic attack.”

Oh right. That was back when you thought you still had a shot of stopping all this. Before half your crew had seen you naked. Before all of them had heard you having sex. Before you’d announced that you wanted all of them to fuck you. But you can still control this, if you can get them onboard with your plan.

Your tablet buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out to give yourself a moment to think. There’s a message from Jin.

Hey, come find me when you get this and we can talk. I’ll be in the kitchen.

You brace yourself for yet another rejection note. But you click on the attachment to instead find your HR form, Kim Seokjin’s signature scrawled right next to yours.

Holy shit. He signed it. Under no false pretenses. What do you do now?

“What is it?” Jungkook asks.

But then Jin appears in the doorway. He startles when he sees you. “Oh! I thought you’d still be on shift.”

You shake your head. “You signed the form.”

“What? He did?” Jungkook asks.

“Oh, um, yeah,” Jin answers, laughing nervously. “That’s what you wanted right?”

“Yes, that’s what I wanted.” You stand up and move closer to your pilot. Jungkook crosses his arms. Yoongi finally turns around to observe the three of you.

Jin. Jin with his broad-shoulders and plump lips. Your friend. Your very handsome friend. He’s going to help you save the mission.

“You’re the first one I’ve gotten, so you can go first.”

“Wait, what?” Jin stammers. “But you and the commander?”

You shake your head. “He didn’t sign.”

“You and Taehyung though? I saw him take off his shirt and then cover the camera.”

“Oh right… sorry… I guess you’re the second one. But Tae’s still on shift.”

“Don’t forget about Jimin.” Yoongi helpfully chimes in.

Jin takes a step backward. “But I thought for sure these two…” He gestures at the other two men in the kitchen.

“Nope,” you move toward him. “Not yet.” You suddenly see a way to get them all on board at once.

“Oh, well, um...” His ears are bright red. “Maybe we can talk more about this after dinner?”

“That’s one option…” You lick your lips and find the top of your zipper with your hand, blushing as the next part of your plan unfolds in your mind. “Or you could fuck me now.”

“What?”

“Holy shit.” Jungkook mutters beside you.

Jin dives around you, moving toward the other side of the kitchen. “There are people eating here!”

“Nothing they haven’t seen before.” You begin unzipping your jumpsuit in what you hope is a seductive manner, rolling your hips as you follow him across the kitchen. You have both Jungkook and Yoongi’s rapt attention.

You take a cue from Taehyung and peel off your tank top, throwing it over the camera behind you, leaving you in a bra and the bottom half of your jumpsuit. “Though if these two are going to stay and watch, they better sign the forms as well.”

“Stay and watch?” Jin swallows, hands clenched at his sides.

You grab the waist of your jumpsuit, teasing it down just slightly as you make direct eye contact with Jungkook and then Yoongi. “What do you think boys? In or out?”

Jungkook lunges for his tablet. A satisfying ping on your own tablet confirms that this plan is working. Yoongi just crosses his arms and leans back against the counter.

You drop the jumpsuit, leaving you in nothing but your bra and underwear. You prop yourself up on the kitchen table next to Jungkook’s now cold bowl of ramen.

“What are you doing?” Jin asks, whole face beginning to turn red.

“Look…” You shimmy out of your bra straps so that your bra is only held in place by your hand. “I’m going to need you to fuck me right here on this table, Kim Seokjin. For the good of the mission.”

“Why does putting your bare ass on the surface where we eat help the mission?!”

“No more secrets. No more jealousy. Everything will be out in the open. Like the bonobos do.”

Your fingers tease at the clasp of your bra. All three men stare at you. You lock eyes with Yoongi, daring him to look away. Implement with full commitment. You drop your bra to the floor.

“Stop, stop!” Jin moves toward you as you slide your fingers into the band of your underwear. “Just hang on for one second.” He picks up your jumpsuit from the floor and comes closer, draping it around your shoulders in an attempt to cover you. “Look at me.” He grasps your chin and turns your gaze to meet his. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

You lick your lips. “Yes.”

He kisses you, hard. It’s aggressive, urgent even. His hands are on your shoulders, then sliding down your back, pulling you toward him. Your eyes close as you momentarily lose yourself in it. Despite you begging him for it, it still surprises you how insistent he is. His hands keep sliding down your back, until they reach your buttocks, running over the thin cotton of your underwear and scooping you into his arms. You wrap your arms around his shoulders for balance, and then he is lifting off the table.

He breaks out of the kiss to pick you up even higher and then proceeds to throw you over his shoulder.

“Jin! What are you doing?” You kick your feet into the air.

“I am a man, not an ape,” he says, picking up your jumpsuit and bra and tossing them over his other shoulder. “And if I’m going to fuck you, it’s going to be in the privacy of my own sleep pod, where the only man enjoying it is me.”

He hauls you ass first out into the hallway, with Jungkook and Yoongi both watching wide-eyed as you are carried away.

“I can walk,” you argue as Jin turns for the sleep pods.

“Nope,” replies Jin, readjusting you on his shoulder before carrying you down the hall.

As you reach the junction to the bridge, your ass runs into something warm and firm.

“What the-” says Namjoon. Your whole body flushes hot as you realize you’ve run butt-first into your commanding officer.

“Shit, sorry commander.” Jin laughs. “Excuse us,” Jin says and continues down the hallway, not setting you down or stopping.

Namjoon has pressed himself up against the wall with his hands in the air, a look of shock on his face. He looks like he is about to say something, but then Jin reaches his sleep pod and sets you down inside and you can’t see the commander anymore.

“Well, that was the best thing that has happened in a long time.” Jin chuckles as he closes the door. “The looks on Namjoon’s and Jungkook’s faces will power me for a year. You okay?” he asks, handing your bra and jumpsuit. “For the record, I’m not expecting anything else to happen here.”

“You don’t want to do anything else?” You hold up your jumpsuit to cover yourself, more disappointed than you would like to admit.

Jin eyes you up and down. “I mean… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested, but that wasn’t my intention in bringing you here.”

“You hauled me half-naked to your bedroom and your intention wasn’t to have sex?”

“I know, I am such a gentleman, aren’t I?” He laughs, then shrugs. “Seemed like maybe you needed an out. Things were getting kind of crazy back there.”

“But you signed the form? Doesn’t that imply a sexual relationship?”

“I guess I’m not really a ‘sex in front of two other men before we’ve even been on a date’ kind of guy.”

“How about a ‘sex in the sleep pods’ kind of guy?”

“Are you even actually interested in me?” Jin asks, getting more serious. “Because none of what happened in the kitchen felt like it was about me. I don’t want to be some pawn in your plot to make Yoongi jealous.”

“It’s not about Yoongi!” You groan. “Why does everyone think this is about Yoongi?”

“Have you seen the two of you interact recently? There are some seriously repressed feelings going on there.”

You bang your head into the door of the sleep pod in frustration, before looking up at him. “You’re a very attractive man. Maybe I have feelings for you?”

He sighs. “Yeah, but you don’t. You can’t swap us out for each other.”

Shit. The way you’ve been treating the men is exactly how you feared they would treat you. While you fear being wanted because you’re the only woman, you’ve made all the men on the ship feel as though you think them interchangeable simply because they’re men.

“It never occurred to me that any of you would have real feelings for me.”

“Well, you are very dumb.”

“Hey…” You hit him gently on the chest. He catches your hand in his.

“Amazing they would trust such a crucial mission to someone who is so very stupid,” he teases, still holding your hand.

“I’m not this stupid about mission related stuff, just all this relationship crap.” You laugh softly.

“So tragic. Someone with so much training ought to have better sense.”

He squeezes your hand and you look into his eyes again. He smiles a soft reassuring smile and for the first time in weeks, you feel like maybe everything will be okay again at some point in the future.

“You’re a good man, Kim Seokjin.”

“Best man on the ship.” He chuckles.

“Kiss me again.”

He arches his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Look there’s no one else here right? This is only about you. I want you.”

He kisses you again, tenderly this time. His warm arms wrap around and you realize you’re still naked except for your underwear. You curl into his embrace. He smells good, warm and manly, like good cologne. You run your hands over his muscular shoulders that you can feel through his clothes. It’s slow and leisurely, like you’re savoring each other.

“You sure you’re not a ‘sex in the sleep pods’ kind of guy?” You tease as you slide your thigh in between his legs and feel his erection pressing against you.

He groans, resting his head on your shoulder as you grind against him. “I’d like to think of myself as more of a ‘sex in the sleep pods after the third date’ kind of guy.”

You pause and look up at him surprised. “You want to go on a date?”

He nods. “At least three of them, in fact.”

You smile. “That would be nice. I’d like that.”

He kisses you behind your ear. “So are Mondays my day then? Can I take you on a date next Monday?”

You gasp as he rolls his hips against you, the heat of him seeping through his clothes. “That’s a long time to wait, especially if you’re going to make me wait through three of them.”

“I’m sure we can find other ways to entertain ourselves.” He cups your naked breast in his hand, massaging gently.

“Is there anything in particular you want to do today?” You palm his erection through his pants and he gasps.

“Stop that, you temptress…” He grits his teeth. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

“Aww, come on, there must be something I can do for you.”

“Well…” He bites his lip. “I will admit that I am awfully curious what was on that video that got five of my crew members suspended.”

“I could show you.” You start to shimmy down your underwear. “But there was no touching in the video.”

He kisses you one last time on the cheek, before pulling away and pressing himself into the opposite wall of the sleep pod. “Okay, show me. I’ll be good.” He puts his hands up by his head in mock innocence.

You finish removing your underwear, spreading your legs apart as best you can. You trail a hand down between your legs, finding yourself wet already. “It was me masturbating.” You tease around your clit without touching it directly.

He groans, hips kicking forward as he stays up against the wall. “Show me.”

“Well, first I took my fingers and sucked on them.” You narrate your actions as you wet your fingers. “Then I touched my nipples.” Your nipples harden before you’ve even touched them, but you continue to tease them for his benefit.

His eyes dart back and forth between your face, your breasts, and your spread legs, as if he can’t decide where he wants to look first. He licks his lips like a man starving. “Keep going.”

“I’m very wet.” You continue your narration as he clenches his fists. You run your fingers through your wet folds, then hold them up to show him. His hips buck again as he groans, still fully dressed and pressed to the wall. “And then I touched my clitoris.” It’s your turn to moan as you finally touch your swollen pleasure center, stroking slowly and keeping your eyes fixed on Jin.

“Goddamn…” He drops to his knees, hands resting at his sides, eyes fixed on your hand as it strokes around your clit.

“Do you wish it was your fingers right now, instead of mine?” you ask.

He nods, tongue darting out of the corner of his mouth. He begins inching toward you on his knees. “Do you think… maybe…?”

“I thought we said no touching,” you tease when he gets to your feet, his head level with your hand, eyes fixed on your wet cunt as you continue to touch yourself.

“I just…” His eyes flick up to meet yours. “I want to smell you.” A pulse of arousal rocks through you at how eager he is. You nod. He moves his nose right over your pubic mound and inhales a long slow savoring breath, tickling your hairs.

“Ah…” He releases a long, loud satisfied moan. His knuckles turn white, but his face is relaxed. “You smell amazing.” He inches even closer, just millimeters separating you from his face and inhales again.

“Oh shit.” You feel the pleasure skyrocketing as your orgasm catches you off guard. You grab him by the back of the head to stabilize yourself and his nose bumps firmly against your clit.

He groans again, loudly right against you as he grinds his nose into you, letting you ride his face as your orgasm washes over you. You thread your fingers through his hair to hold him in place. He wraps his hands around the back of your thighs to press himself into you harder. You cry out as waves of muscle contraction course through you over and over.

“Fuck…” you both say in unison as you collapse back against the door. Your eyes meet and you both start laughing. He places a light kiss right below your belly button before he gets up.

“Well, I see why that was worth getting suspended for,” he says, unzipping his jumpsuit and using the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face.

“And you didn’t even come yet.” You slide your underwear back up, wondering if he would consider a blowjob to be a step too far before your first date.

“Um, actually…” he gestures down at his crotch and the new wet spot you find there makes your pelvic muscles clench.

“You came in your pants? Over me?”

Jin laughs. “God, you have no idea how sexy you are, do you?” He picks up your clothing off the floor, before kissing you softly on the forehead. “I will have a hard time waiting for Monday.”

“Me too.” You mutter and get a sudden sinking feeling. You don’t want this to be over right now. You want to stay here with him, to cuddle and be held by him, but you have made this very clear to everyone involved that these dalliances are not relationships. It’s just sex. And now the sex is over. Until next week.

You slip back into your clothes and give him one last kiss. You tablet pings as you head out into the hallway and you fish it out of your pocket.

Yoongi: Okay, I’m in.

Below his message is his signed HR form. A swell of smug satisfaction makes you smile as you cross the hall and climb into your own pod. You open up a group message for the five men whose signed forms you now have in your possession and type out the following:

Mondays: Jin

Tuesdays: Jungkook

Wednesdays: Taehyung

Thursdays: Jimin

Fridays: Yoongi

“Saturday and Sunday to be determined,” you whisper to yourself as you hit send.

____

Next part

#bts x reader #bts smut #ot7 x reader #void #btssavedmylifeblr

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anxiouslyfred · 4 years

Text

Love After Exile - Testing a Theory

Summary: Virgil loved Remus and Deceit long before they fell out. Now he’s dating Logan after beginning to recognise similar feelings. Now Deceit and Remus have an idea over what Virgil might hide they want to see if it could be true.

Formatting: There’s a shifting POV, anytime you see Bold starts of a paragraph then there’s been a perspective shift.

Pairings: Analogical from the start, eventual Analoceitmus though that’ll take a few parts

Warnings for this part: possessiveness,

/\/\/\/\/\ Part One /\/\/\/\ Part Two /\/\/\/\/\

“There's definitely chaos happening here.” Deceit walking in had Morality and Roman's eyes turning to him. They'd planned for him to come and join Remus under the guise of fetching him back from causing trouble after a few hours but that could only work if Remus was actually there. To find he, along with Logan and Virgil, didn't seem to be present was mildly concerning given how likely the other could be to lash out at someone with a claim to one of His People.

“Try Logan's room.” Roman glanced over, ignoring the glare that Patton directed towards him. That didn't help his confusion over the change of plan very much. How on earth does focusing on Logic's known fear end up with a visit to his room, even for someone as given to impulses as Remus?

At least the door was already open so he could watch before making his presence known. Logan seemed to be talking enthusiastically about a specific type of shellfish that he'd never let Thomas pick up for fear of encountering one. There was a video paused on what he first thought as a projector before realising Remus had just enlarged the laptop screen instead, showing the surf of a beach.

He walked in after a moment, only briefly taking in how relaxed Virgil was, sat beside Remus with the only free seat left on the opposite side of him. “So your souvenirs could just be deadly unless brought from a shop. How much would capitalists love us to believe that. Better avoid mentioning it.” All eyes on Deceit, just how he liked his entrances to be, at least when he wasn't pretending to be someone else for Thomas. “Hows goes the feelings, Logan?”

“Feelings don't go anywhere. They are either expressed or repressed, but I believe you are the one to talk to regarding repressing things.” Logan stated, but waved to the seat. “Please join us, though I doubt you're particularly interested in the oceans mysteries. There's not much need to lie when surrounded by an ever changing mass of water.”

“People find reasons to lie wherever they are. Whether it's to themselves or to others is the only change between being isolated somewhere or being among the people.” He brushed Virgil's hand as he got comfortable in the seat, as accidentally as he could manage.

“All my people in one room, this is a good day!” Virgil and Deceit both turned to Remus in an instant at his exclamation. He usually only said that if it was just them so that had to mean somehow Logan had become one of His People over the afternoon. Deceit grinned, leaning further back in his chair as Virgil started snickering, clearly happy over what had been implied as well as another mention of him still belonging.

Looking around, Logan knew he'd missed something from the interruption but couldn't discern what it might be. “I'm not quite sure that connects to anything we've been talking about, Remus.”

“It's important, L. I'll explain later.” Virge cut off the question he'd been about to raise, playing the video they had been watching before they got sidetracked. “I probably don't need to know about what can harm Thomas on the beach to do my job but whatever.”

Curiosity isn't easy to quiet when your entire function within Thomas is the centre of his knowledge but the promise of later explanations was enough of a reward to refocus him back on the subject of the ocean, mostly at least. He couldn't help but focus more on the interactions of the trio with him now.

If he'd been correct in their response a few days before, Deceit and Remus would have been trying to understand what he meant and Virgil as far as they could understand each other. He'd honestly thought that if they figured out Virgil's feelings his relationship would be ended with them asking to talk but an afternoon covering oceanic conspiracies was not what he'd expected to occur.

Eventually all days reach an end and Virgil was bewildered over what had happened as Remus and Deceit finally left the Light Sides that evening. The possessiveness was still there, something he'd warn Thomas about if ever one of his friends or lovers leant too far into it outside of the mind space but came with Remus's function.

He hadn't thought it would still apply to him, perhaps only being for Deceit or perhaps another hidden side filling the place he'd held but not only was he still one of Remus's people, but Logan had somehow, somewhen become one as well.

“We're all the Duke's people? Does that mean he sees us as courtiers or servants or something?” Logan asked before he could do much more analysing of the day than that.

Still he snickered, leaning onto his boyfriends shoulder. “Not really. He sees everyone like that at times, just as much as Roman can do occasionally. I think it comes from choosing nobility titles to differentiate each other, sometimes they think everyone is there to serve them. Being his people basically makes you one of his advisors, under his protection and well, it means you're one of his favourite people to spend time with. Apparently all three of us now. How did you manage that?”

Even if he was in love with Deceit and the Duke, he didn't want to give up Logic for anybody now he had that stable relationship and source of affection with him. Doesn't Patton insist that love grows over time? That was certainly true for their relationship so far, even with the calculating gaze on him as Logan took in the new explanation.

“How does trying to understand Virgil's feelings translate into claiming a new person?”None of the plan they'd had that morning had happened even similarly to how Deceit had thought it might change subject to impulses. He had confirmed their suspicions though.

Anxiety was more open with his expressions when he was relaxed and seemingly a lot more so since Thomas had accepted him. It was clear to him there was strong affection for them involved as well as a wish for stability which of any side Logan was the most constant.

“Same way talking about Logan's fears got me invited to his room” Understanding the logic behind anything that Logan had done that afternoon was becoming increasingly fascinating without knowing his views at all. Deceit couldn't reason it out easily at least, but Remus was easier to understand at least.

“He did something you didn't expect so now you've claimed him?” His deadpan expression was ignored by the other, who was bouncing and nodding with a manic grin.

“Yup. Strange boy is our Logic, but Mine now!” Remus insisted, calming a little to actually think about how the afternoon had actually happened.

He definitely recognised the reactions of Virgil now. It almost seemed like since Anxiety had been accepted and for all intents and purposes become a light side he saw loving the hidden sides as forbidden. It was nostalgic to recognise those feelings again, but painful. Just looking after them when Thomas was learning to accept being gay had been difficult but seeing someone Remus had claimed going through them, all he wanted to do was pull Virgil to him, and let him know it's okay, that he wouldn't be rejected by everyone, and everything would be okay.

Some of that comforting had always come from Deceit, that had been how they'd grown close originally, but Remus could come up with stories surrounding the forbidden belief that everything would be alright easily. None of that could comfort Virgil with the distance in their relationship currently and letting the offer be made again seemed nigh on impossible.

“Do you wanna date Virgil?” The question made Deceit freeze, so apparently the conversation wasn't where Remus's thoughts were but it could catch up.

“Of course that's what follows claiming Logan.” He heard the mutter into Dee's cloak but was distracted by the question actually addressed to him. “Are you meaning a romantic involvement including you and Virgil, or everyone you've claimed, or me being the only one to date Virgil cause I'm pretty sure he's taken?”

When your entire function in Thomas is to embody dark twisted thoughts or desires that go against the moral code, monogamy becomes something you're only peripherally aware of. Remus didn't pause at all before replying “All; I want everyone that's mine, every way I can. If you're comfortable with it lets go ask them!”

It's odd how often he's watched Deceit's head fall into his hands, but usually that's a reaction to a bizarre intrusive thought he's not controlling, not a serious suggestion. The action also isn't usually accompanied by a thoughtful expression although the sigh often comes. “Let's leave it for tonight. Tomorrow I'll go over and actually work out how everyone thinks of polyamory. I'm not letting either of us get hurt for leaping before knowing there's even a path in that direction.”

The tiredness in Deceit's voice stops Remus from saying anything more as they separate to their rooms for the evening. He'd loved how unpredictable the day had actually been, but knew most other sides preferred knowing what was likely to happen next.

/\/\/\/\ Part Four /\/\/\/\/\ Part Five /\/\/\/\/\ Part 6 /\/\/\ Part Seven /\/\/\ Part Eight /\/\/\ Part Nine /\/\/\/\

#Analogical #remus sanders #deceit sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides fics

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melodiouswhite · 5 years

Text

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde rewritten - Ch. 34

34. The memorable habits of Miss Donovan (and bar fights)

(A/N: here there be violence and dismemberment)

The physical injuries had healed well.

And now that both Jekyll and Hyde knew, that they had something like a family for the first time in their life, the wounds on their soul were beginning to heal as well.

But Hyde didn't feel strong enough to come out and go around to pursue his hobbies for a while.

Jekyll therefore had the pleasure of staying in control for almost a month, before Hyde got fidgety again.

“Are you sure you want to go back to that?”, he asked one evening, when Hyde demanded to be let out again. “Perhaps that scum will be back-”

“If he knows what's good for him, he won't”, his alter ego snarled in response.

“Hyde, I really don't think this is a good idea.”

“I need this, Jekyll”, the younger pointed out. “And so do you. Do you think I haven't noticed how you've gone back to your old self-repression? You want to be free again. And so do I.”

The Doctor didn't argue anymore.

He did laugh, though. “You're truly incorrigible.”

“Look who's talking!”, Hyde retorted.

Jekyll finished his work for the day and left his office.

Poole frowned, when he told him that he would go out tonight.

“Are you sure, Doctor?”, the elderly servant questioned. “Only a month after you-know-what?”

“It's alright”, Jekyll assured him. “We will be more careful this time. Don't worry, Arthur.”

Poole shook his head. “You're truly incorrigible, Henry.”

The blond chuckled. “I know.”

Only Poole got away with that cheek towards him.

“Mister Hyde! So good to see you again!”, the cash carrier* cried eagerly and approached the small brunette, when he entered the bar.

Hyde hid his scorn behind his creepy smile and told him that tonight he was just here to get drunk.

When he looked around, he recognised some men, he had bested on other occasions.

Some of them saw him and glowered, but Hyde didn't worry about them.

They wouldn't have the guts to do anything, he knew.

He jumped onto the counter and threw a Sovereign onto the table.

“Long time no see! The usual?”, the barkeeper inquired and Hyde nodded affirmatively.

“The usual. And pour it, where I can see it!”, he added scowling, when the barkeeper turned his back on him to pour the drink.

The man gulped. “Alright, alright!”

He stepped to the side, so the smaller man could see everything, poured the ale and handed him his pint.

“Thank you”, Hyde purred with false sweetness and strode over to his accustomed seat in the corner.

To his surprise, someone was already sitting at the table.

And it was none other than-

“No way!”, he exclaimed, “Miss Donovan! Fancy meeting you here!”

She turned her head, recognised him and grinned like a bedlam girl. “Likewise!”, she responded, “Been a while, hasn't it? Come and sit with me, Mr. Hyde!”

He did so.

This time she wasn't cross-dressing. Instead she was sporting a black and red dress. Her flame red curls were in a ponytail and she wore dark red lipstick and rouge.

Probably to lure men in.

Hyde knew a trap, when he saw one.

“How've you been?”, she asked cheerily.

“I'm getting better.”

“I can tell. Up to your debauchery again, eh?”

“Well, what can I say? I am and always will be a depraved man.”

“It's fine. Just don't go forcing yourself on people ever again. Now that you know what that feels like.”

Hyde frowned. “Oh, don't worry. I learned my lesson in that regard.”

She nodded. “Good.”

“Sooo”, Hyde drawled, “What are you doing here in a bar?”

The ginger shrugged. “Eh, ya know. Getting up the pole and looking for girls.”

Oh. So she's a queer too …

“Well, this is a brothel, so-”

“I'm not here to dab it up”, Miss Donovan revealed, “I want to find a lady-friend. Kinda hard for me to keep one.”

He looked at her in confusion.

It was hard for him to imagine.

Alma Donovan was an attractive girl, in almost every way. Even the piercing, feral look in her eyes – so much like his own – could be enticing. He certainly knew that a lot of men had a thing for wild, temperamental beauties.

She explained: “I'm mad. Maybe Luise told you, but I like to stab and mutilate blokes. They just 'ave to look at me funny and then they can say bye-bye to their crown jewels.”

Hyde cringed.

“Do I have to worry about losing mine?”, he queried.

She shook her head. “Unless you ever hurt a woman again, nah. Besides, you already got a taste of your medicine and promised to never do it again. So you're safe.”

Oh thank Heavens …

“And I have quite a few other quirks”, the ginger continued, “So every time I actually manage to get meself a girlfriend, it doesn't last long. I'm looking for a lady, who can put up with me madness.”

Oh.

Well, he knew a few tough girls. Tough enough for him, at least. And he was a madman himself, after all. So in theory, they would be able to handle that madwoman here too. But …

“Just out of curiosity, how do you treat your lady-friends?”

Suddenly, Miss Donovan grinned like a Chesire cat.

“Oh, I spoil them rotten!”, she cried excitedly, “Luise gives me a handsome allowance and I make quite a lot of money by placing bets! I'd give them the best I can afford, take them out for dates, protect them from perverts, teach them how to defend themselves and how to read and write, take care of them, be there when they need me-”

The plural form got his attention. “Them?”

Miss Donovan scratched her head awkwardly. “That's the other problem. Monogamy isn't me thing. That and the fact that I get into trouble so often … well, you get the idea. Have been jailed several times too. Luise cuts me allowance every time she has to bail me out.”

One of these girls, eh?

Hyde laughed: “Miss Donovan, I think you and I are going to get along just fine.”

“Call me Alma”, she requested, “Miss Donovan was me mother.”

The brunette grinned. “Call me Edward then.”

They shook hands and proceeded to chat about this and that.

Unfortunately their conversation was interrupted, when Hyde felt a presence behind himself.

Alma frowned. “Uhh, Edward?”

“I know”, he muttered and turned around to come face to face with a huge bloke, who was glaring down at him. He reminded Hyde of a gorilla Jekyll had once seen at the zoo.

“Can I help you, Sir?”, he asked coolly and with an unaffected expression.

“You sick in the head?”, the taller man snarled.

He raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Ye heard me!”, the gorilla growled.

Hyde looked past him and caught sight of some men he remembered roughing up. They were whispering and staring at the gorilla, like he was off his head. Which he certainly was.

“I have a score to settle with ya!”

“No, you don't”, Hyde responded languidly. “If we'd brawled before, I'd remember you.”

One of the workers in the background stood up and put a hand on the moron's shoulder.

“Are you off your rocker?!”, the man hissed, “That gremlin looks small, but he holds a candle to the devil.”*

A gremlin?!

He heard Jekyll snort in his head and almost laughed too. But Hyde was in a good mood, so the other man was off the hook. Besides, that was one of the more harmless things he'd been called so far.

“Well, you would know, wouldn't you?”, Hyde remarked, smirking.

“See, Sir”, he turned back to the gorilla, “That man would have a score to settle with me. And so do those three gentlemen in the back.”

He pointed at three other men, who were sitting at one of the other tables. The worker returned to his chair at their table.

“They're just wise enough not to”, Hyde continued. “And you should be too. Or you can just tell me what you actually want.”

“Ye must be that Hyde-fella”, the giant growled.

“'Sup?”

“I heard things about ya!”

“Really now?” Hyde's eyes narrowed. He was starting to feel extremely agitated. Why couldn't that twit just leave them alone? Normally he would have punched him in the gut by now, but he didn't feel like getting himself another house ban.

“Ye start brawls and beat people up for kicks”, the bigger man growled.

And you don't? Hypocrite.

“Even if they're over twice yer size-”

And what does that tell you?! Sod off!

“-Almost killed some old geezer for no reason-”

How the hell did that bastard know that?! Sir Danvers Carew hadn't pressed charges or given his name! The only witness had been a maid and Lady Summers had bought her silence. No one knew that it had been him!

Hyde feigned ignorance: “Some old geezer? Rumours! I can't think of one!”

Jekyll snorted: “Fibbing, Hyde? That's not like you.”

Shut up, Jekyll. Besides, it's easy to deny, when he doesn't say who he means.

Well, at least the fib had the desired effect. It threw the other off. Good. So he had only heard rumours about it. He couldn't prove anything. He didn't even know, if it was true.

The brunette scoffed: “Telling stories with no basis on reality? Pathetic! Now, for the last time, who are you and what do you want?”

I swear, if I have to ask one more time-

“I'm Bob Smith”, the gorilla told him.

“And I'm Queen Victoria”, Hyde responded, mimicking a falsetto and batting his eyelashes. “Guess who I am!”

Some people cackled in the background. Alma chortled and even Jekyll laughed in his head.

The gorilla's scowl intensified. “I'm tryin' to talk to ye, little shit!”

“As am I. And I'm currently failing. And I'm sorry for that. But I'm just so irritated! Because a plastered gorilla just strolled up to me and my friend, interrupted our conversation and is trying to intimidate me, like I'm one of the underage attendants!”

Hyde stared him right into the eyes. He could tell that, if he stood up, he still wouldn't even reach up to the giant's chest, so he didn't bother. Also, he'd bested men of that size before, some of them being professional brawlers. And he was in the perfect position to-

Suddenly the gorilla grabbed him by the collar, which made him gasp in surprise.

“Don't give me that sass, ye brat!”, he snarled. “I'll tear ye to pieces an'-”

Before he could continue, Hyde decided that he had enough and kicked him in the nuts with all his strength.

The gorilla let go and wailed like a little girl. Then he dropped onto the floor, clutching his crown jewels and cursed up a storm.

Priceless.

Utterly priceless.

The brunette scoffed: “Look at you! Acting tough, but a simple knock in the nuts is enough to knock you off your feet. Pathetic.”

“Oi!”, Alma suddenly piped up and stood up. She came around the table and grabbed the man by the hair. “I remember you!”

Her ice blue ice narrowed to slits.

“I saw you 'ere a fortnight ago! You're that piece of shit, who walked off with one of the underage attendants! That ten-year-old gal, if I remember correctly.”

So that gorilla is one of those blokes, huh?

“Ew! Gross!”, Jekyll groaned in disgust. “And you call me a dirty old man, Hyde! At least I don't use children to satisfy my carnal desires!”**

Yes, that's one of your redeeming qualities, Hyde thought drily.

Meanwhile Alma was grinning maniacally. “Why, there's only one appropriate way to 'andle blokes like you!”

To the brunette's surprise, she charmed a knife from her glove. “Now”, she purred darkly, “You will find out, why they call me 'Unmanning Alma'!”

Ohhhh, this is going to be good!

“Hyde, no.”

Hyde, yes!

Hyde was quite convinced, that the knife was blunt. Which made this whole thing even better!

But before more could happen, someone new entered the brothel.

He couldn't believe his eyes. “Lucy!”

She turned to face him. “Oh, Mr. Hyde! Good evening!”

He frowned. “What are you doing here? I thought I told you to leave this place!”

The black-haired woman smiled. “Don't worry, I'm just here to get my clothes. It took me a while to find a room somewhere, but now I finally have a nice one.”

Hyde composed himself. Finding a nice and affordable place to live was extremely hard here in London, he knew that.

Lucy went up to the pimp and they began a talk, which quickly turned into an argument.

His eyes narrowed.

Oh no, that snake was not going to take Lucy's things for himself!

“Is there a problem?”, he asked the pimp icily.

The snake began to talk some gibberish about Lucy having debts.

“I see”, Hyde replied coolly and turned to Lucy: “When you moved out, how much did he charge you?”

“Sixty Pounds”, Lucy huffed. “And I paid! Now he wants another twenty!”

“Sixty? Her possessions are worth less than forty – which I know, because I calculated it. But since you're so eager to rob an ex-prostitute, let's settle this business once and for all.”

Hyde turned around, rummaged in his bag and then turned to them, his hands behind the back. “Alright”, he began darkly. “In one hand I'm holding my bag, that contains medical equipment, as well as all the money you could ever dream of. In the other, I have a walking cane stable enough to bash someone's skull in. Of course”, he added with a sneer, “The other option would be that you land behind bars for hiring underage prostitutes. Just a brief reminder, the age of consent was raised up to sixteen last summer. But then again, when has that ever stopped people from lusting for little brats, eh?”

The pimp stared at him for a full minute.

“Her debts are more than settled”, he finally uttered weakly. Then he backed off and let Lucy get her last things. When she returned downstairs, the snake was waiting for her and shoved a bag of money into her hands. “Here you have twenty pounds, just keep your mouth shut!”

Hyde snorted. The things people did to avoid getting apprehended!

“Oh shut up!”, Jekyll scoffed in his head, “You turn into me, when you get into trouble with the police!”

You shut up, Jekyll!

“No, you!”

Just for the record, I haven't got into trouble with the police since that Carew affair! Now shut up and let me enjoy the show!

“What show? This one or Miss Donovan castrating that paedophile?”

Oh, right. He had forgot about that bugger.

When he turned to the red-head, she had knocked the gorilla out cold and was staring at Lucy, like she was the most gorgeous thing in the world.

To be fair, the black-haired woman was the most beautiful girl he knew.

An idea popped into Hyde's head.

He took the surprised Lucy by the hand and guided her to his new friend (who quickly hid her knife).

“Let me introduce you to Lucy Harris, a woman who's too good for this sinful world – don't you dare deny it, Lucy”, he added, when she wanted to object. “And this is Alma Donovan, a friend of mine, who is just as mad as I am.”

“Charmed!”, Alma cried enthusiastically and shook the blushing woman's hand. “It's an honour to meet a remarkable lady such as yourself!”

“Uhm … likewise …”, Lucy mumbled shyly, obviously not knowing how to deal with this.

Jekyll laughed in Hyde's head.

“I didn't pin you to be a match-maker!”, he teased. If he had been corporeal, Hyde would've stuck his tongue at him.

Oh shut up, if these two hook up, it might give me an advantage!

“Sure, Hyde. Whatever helps you sleep at night! There is no way you could be doing this, because you want two people who helped you to be happy!”

I would strike you, if I could.

“But you cahaaan't!”, Jekyll taunted him. “Come on, Edward! You know that I'm right!”

The brunette puffed his cheeks in annoyance.

Better half, his arse! Also, how old was that man again? Oh yeah, fifty! He was a dirty, fifty-year-old bastard!

A groan got their attention. Oh, the gorilla was waking up.

The two mad people excused themselves and dragged the half-conscious man outside and into an alley. Hyde kicked him in the solar plexus for good measure, to render him defenceless.

But when Donovan had her blunt knife out, Hyde laughed and took a scalpel out of his bag. “That knife is too blunt. Use this, that'll be quicker.”

Alma took the medical tool and made short work of the man's nether regions.

She and Hyde cackled maniacally as the child-molesting bastard screamed, then left him to writhe in agony.

“I need to go back”, Hyde told her, “I still have to pay for my drink.”

She grinned. “Maybe Miss Harris hasn't left yet”, she hoped.

I'm sure one of her ex-colleagues is keeping her back for a few minutes to chat, he assumed.

And sure enough, he was right.

Lucy was leaning outside, next to the door and chatting with one of her colleagues, who had crept outside for some fresh air.

Hyde recognised the other woman. That French girl … what was her name … oh right, Marianne.

Alma went up to them and joined in their conversation, while he went back inside to pay.

Everyone was obviously glad, when he paid up and left the place.

Then he had a short talk with the three women (Lucy inquired how he was doing), before turning to go home. “Goodbye, ladies! It was fun to pass time with you!”

“Likewise!”, Alma laughed and waved back.

Then they all went their separate ways.

Hyde was still elated, when he arrived at his flat.

Sure, he hadn't got up the pole tonight, but damn! He had found himself one sister in arms!

“This was the best evening in ages!”, he exclaimed happily.

“I can imagine it was”, Jekyll deadpanned and appeared in the mirror.

“This is my nightmare!”, the blond groaned and shook his head. “You found a partner in crime, who's just as deranged as you are!”

The brunette cackled and revelled in the other's exasperation.

Meanwhile Lady Summers was doing paper work, when her telephone rang and she jumped.

With a frustrated sigh, she took the receiver. “Hello, Lady Summers speaking?”

In the next moment she winced and held the receiver away from her ear.

“You, Luise! I just had the best evening ever!”

Why did Alma have to shout into the phone like that?!

“Let me guess, you castrated someone?”, the Lady sighed in annoyance.

“That too, but I met some really interesting people!”

“Did you now?”

“Yes! First off, I stumbled upon Hyde in a brothel-”

“What were you doing there?!”

“I'm coming to that – and we chatted about this and that, when this huge gorilla of a man interrupted our conversation and started to annoy Edward-”

Oh, so it's first name basis now?

“-and you won't believe this! It was the same guy, who screwed that little girl the other day! The one I didn't get to punish, because I had to leave early!”

“Aha.”

“And just as I wanted to give him, what he deserved, this absolutely gorgeous woman walked in! She was so cute and beautiful, damn! It's true love, I know it! And Edward introduced me to her! Her name is Lucy Harris! She's so adorable! I asked for her address and get this! She just moved into the house where I live! Isn't that amazing?! Maybe I'll finally have a lasting relationship! And I also got to know a Frenchwoman, who is apparently a former colleague of Lucy's. A really bricky**** lady, I tell you!”

The Prussian needed a minute to process all of this.

Then she recovered her spirit.

“That's nice, Alma. But you still haven't told me what you were doing in a run-down brothel bar in Soho.”

“I was looking for a potential girlfriend! You know how hard it is for me to keep one! And every woman in Whitechapel knows me. They don't want anything to do with me. I don't even know why! I'm doing them a favour with what I do! Anyway, I hoped that maybe I'd be luckier in one of the other districts. And I thought prostitutes would be a good thing to start with, because they're tougher than others.”

That's in the eye of the beholder, the Lady thought drily.

“Have you told Mr. Hyde about your favourite pastime?”, she asked curiously.

“Yeah. But he was calm about it, after I told him that he has nothing to fear. He even helped me castrate that child-molesting gorilla! I think I found myself a brother in arms!”

Lady Summers groaned: “This is my nightmare! You found a partner in crime, who's just as deranged as you are!”

---

*cash carrier - Victorian Slang for: a pimp

**Hold a candle to the devil - Victorian Slang for: to be evil

***My version of Jekyll is anti pedo. Anything younger than eighteen is too young for him. Hyde likes them twenty (like himself) and older.

****bricky - Victorian Slang for: brave, fearless

#The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde #Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde #Dr. Jekyll #henry jekyll #Mr. Hyde #edward hyde #lucy harris #oc #crazy people

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lemonsandstrawberries · 6 years

Text

Double Trouble Reunion, part 7

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony), Avengers,

universe: Double Trouble universe (Steve and Tony, T2 and S2)

summary: Tony experiences his first triple tickling, and Steve is introduced to new culinary sensations, while S2 is still working on getting closer to Steve and T2 is just happy with the finally calm days.

length: 5 190 words

warnings: they gonna eat seafood and drink alcohol later in the chapter.

a/n: this is kinda a slice of life part, with nothing too exciting happening, just a day out of their lives. also, I am not a big fan of seafood, but I watched waaay too many vidoes of Gordon Ramsey preparing seafood and got intriqued. likes, feedbacks and reblogs and suggestions what you would like to see happen in this series are welcomed and needed!

——————–

Double Trouble Reunion, part 7

When to think about, neither Tony or Steve had long vacation very often. Short, weekend trips to Europe to some luxurious hotels, or staying in a cheap motel under a fake name for a couple of days, that was more of their thing. Long vacation meant putting their superhero duties and business stuff on hold and it was always difficult for people of their position. A few days outside New York was enough for them to regenerate and boost their batteries. It was hard for Steve to get out of his army mode and fully enjoy vacations, but, slowly, slowly, he started to get up a little bit later and found pleasure in the calm atmosphere. But just as he was getting more relaxed, someone else was becoming more tense.

"I am bored."

Steve didn't answer. He was outside, spread on a sunbed near the swimming pool, enjoying the sunny weather. It was a great vacation weather. The whine was delivered in a soft voice, as Tony's face remained smushed into Steve's chest.

"I am really, really bored."

"Hmm," Steve finally acknowledged the whine, running his fingers through the hair on the back of Tony's head in a comforting manner. Tony had trotted to him some while ago and smushed his face into soldier's chest, draping himself over his boyfriend. Steve thought they would have some relaxing afternoon for themselves, as S2 and T2 went out to restock their fridge, but seemed that it was wishful thinking.

"Steve, do something."

More humming and more scratching. Steve almost forgot that Tony didn't do long vacations. He was not used to having so much of free time and being pushed away from his company work wasn't something he was dealing well with on a longer run.

"Steeeeveeeee…"

"Yeah, babe?"

"I. Am. Bored."

And how was that Steve's worry?

Clearly, it was, as he opened one eye and saw Tony limply stretched on top of him, giving off miserable vibes.

"Why don't you go to your workshop and play with something?"

"Play with something?" Tony lifted his head up, seething the words in anger. "I don't play in the workshop, Rogers."

Steve only smiled. "Sorry. 'Design' something," he said, using air quotes.

Tony huffed and smushed his face back in between Steve's pecks. A very comfy place. Thank you, lucky star, that Steve decided to sunbathe in swimming trucks, even though he couldn't really maintain a tan. Tony decided to join him in a similar set of clothing, he just had an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, the very same one T2 had worn some time ago. Skin to skin contact was quite lovely.

Steve slid his hand under the material on Tony's back and steadily rubbed his fingertips along brunet's spine. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sun on his face, and letting his fingers do the magic and calm his boyfriend down. It worked for a few seconds until Tony groaned miserably.

"I am still bored," he muffled into Steve's skin, his leg twitching a bit when just the right spot on his lower back was scratched.

"Well, if you are bored, I have a question I wanted to ask you…" Steve said thoughtfully.

"Hmmm?"

"Why do you have a swimming pool?"

"What?!" Tony lifted his head up and scowled. That was a bizarre question.

Steve grinned sheepishly, seeing the outrage in his boyfriend's eyes. "Swimming pool. Why do you need a one, if the ocean is just a few feet away?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Because all rich people have swimming pools."

Steve blinked. What?

"Yeah. How was I supposed to throw pool parties without having a pool?"

"Pool parties?" Steve repeated, involuntarily grimacing.

"Ah, pool parties. Those were the days when monogamy didn't exist in my dictionary. The things this house saw, Steve--- OW!" Tony yelped and giggled the next second when a punishing slap was aimed at his ass. He saw Steve's angry face and felt how the other man tensed. "I am just joking around," Tony smiled sweeter and moved up Steve's body, wrapping fingers in his hair. "Don't be mad, honey," he rubbed his nose against Steve's playfully, trying to ease the tension.

Steve pursed his lips together and strongly wrapped arms around Tony's waist. Those days were gone and Tony was his now. Only his. Well. Kinda his. He still had to share him, but he didn't mind terribly the people he was sharing his fiance with. Most of the time.

"Hey, we should throw a pool party! The four of us!" Tony suddenly perked up, finding his task for the day. His face was immediately lit up with a smile, and Steve felt that he could kiss goodbye the thoughts of having a calm afternoon with his boyfriend.

"Did someone say a pool party?!"

Definitely kiss goodbye.

"Well! It is about time you two came back!" Tony scoffed, turning around and laying on his back, while still on top of Steve. S2 and T2 stopped in their tracks, pausing because of the sudden hostility until T2 rolled his eyes and S2 chuckled lowly.

"What is our princess whining about again?" S2 asked playfully, sitting on the sunbed next to the one Steve and Tony were on, T2 following.

"Princess?" Tony grimaced.

"We just noticed you tend to get a little whiny lately," T2 explained innocently, as S2 slung his arm around him, nodding to his boyfriend's words.

"I do not!" Tony argued, frowning at the couple. "And I am definitely not a princess. I am a queen. Steve, tell them!"

"Yeah, you are definitely a queen," Steve consoled him, kissing the back of Tony's head.

"Not thaaaat," Tony whined, ignoring the laugh from the other couple, "I meant the whining part!"

"Sorry, babe, the evidence is against you," Steve shrugged, remembering how their conversation started. Tony huffed, sinking more into the man below him and crossing his arms for emphasize.

"You all suck. I hate you."

The remaining trio exchanged quick looks, some connection working in their brains.

"Awww," T2 was the first one to break the silence. "Is someone grumpy because he didn't get any attention lately?" he asked in a teasing voice, wiggling his fingers closer to Tony.

"No!" Tony scoffed, attempting to kick the other him. "It is because you all suck!"

"Maybe we can suck later," S2 concluded, and Tony could only scream when T2 suddenly jumped on him. He had no way to escape, remaining in Steve's strong hold.

"Nooo! Wait, wait!"

"Steve, hold him!"

"Steve, don't you--- NO, I said WAIT!"

"Okay, what?" T2 asked, granting the other him with the moment he needed. It was a shame to delay, really, as Steve had managed to grab Tony's hands and spread them away from his torso, leaving him all open, with a bare belly, while T2 was seated on his thighs, pinning them both down. Perfect.

Tony's breath was quickened, and he somehow wearily eyed his surrounding before looking back at T2. "You can't do it here!" he hissed. It was confusing, but a relief to hear that Tony didn't refuse to participate.

"Eee… What?" T2 asked with a smirk, not understanding the order. Steves looked equally confused.

"What if someone is watching us?!" Tony continued to hiss and struggled a bit, trying to wriggle his hands out of Steve's hold. Very ineffectively.

"Like who?" T2 asked, sounding amused. The other him was just making excuses. "Who is watching us now?"

Some pause, as Tony had to recalibrate.

"Google earth!" he blurted out, still trying to wriggle away. "Google earth is always watching! God, why are you so strong?!" he suddenly turned to Steve, irritated with not being able to get out as quickly as he imagined.

T2 tipped his head up and laughed. It was getting absurd. "Yeah, no, I think we are safe," he said, putting his fingers against Tony's stomach and drawing some circles into the skin.

The effect was immediate. Tony's whole body spasmed and his eyes got wide and round, before he squeezed them shut, trying to control the bubbling laughter in his throat. "Nnnnnnooo, stahhap!"

"I don't think so," T2 cheerfully denied the request, continuing to draw some small circles into the skin, and enjoying the way T1's belly sunk in and then pushed out again. "Damn, when you suck your stomach in, I can actually see your abs."

Tony growled, which didn't sound so threatening while he was simultaneously giggling helplessly. "I wihihihill khihihil you!!"

"Hey, it was supposed to be a compliment," T2 justified himself, putting hands on top of Tony's ribs and dragging fingernails down to the hips, all along the length of the stomach underneath him.

"BWAHAHAHA!!" Tony tossed his head, letting out the loudest laugh so far.

"Oh damn, that was hot," S2 said breathlessly, observing the full stomach roll. Tony really had some nice abs, which were usually hidden under a softer layer of skin. It was a great contrast. "Do it again."

"NO! Don't do it again!" T1 warned, flushed on his face. And there was something off in him. Something that made him all twitchy and nervous.

"Hey, are you alright?" T2 asked with concern the other him. After all, it was supposed to be playful. Steve leaned his head a bit to the front and looked at his boyfriend's heated face.

"Yeah, just…" Tony said, taking in shallow breaths, his eyes having some peculiar look to them.

"Do you want me to stop?" T2 asked.

"Nooo…" T1 meeped quietly. It was always hard to admit.

"Then what is it?" Steve asked.

"It is just… Ahhh, I can't do this with you all staring at me like that!" Tony almost yelled, sounding distressed.

"Oh," T2 said. "Uhm. But we already did that? Like many times?" he asked, feeling lost.

"Yeah, but never like this! It… It is just different when we do it, like, in the bedroom, okay?!"

"Mhhhhmmm," T2 made a thoughtful face, trying to understand.

"Are you shy?" S2 asked, smiling with adoration at his other boyfriend. Tony's face became red very suddenly and very quickly. "Oh my gosh, you are shy. I didn't know either of you were capable of that."

"Shuuuut uuuup," Tony seethed, as the confusion in his lovers' eyes was replaced with a whole lot of fondness. He didn't know what was worse.

"Tony actually got pretty shy when I first saw him without a shirt. He thought his belly button will freak me out," Steve said, remembering their first nights together and Tony showing Steve his front only briefly. Steve thought it was because of the arc reactor in his chest, but turned out that it was something different. Something Steve utterly adored about his boyfriend. "But it was unnecessary, right, babe?" Steve kissed Tony cheek, drawing a whine from the other.

"Okay, you know what? I will do this," T2 said, tugging Tony's shirt from underneath him and buttoning it up, "and maybe this will make you feel more comfortable. Better?"

Tony took a deep breath, feeling safer with his stomach not being in full view. He didn't have problems with walking around shirtless, but being tickled in the open and in daylight did make him feel watched. "Yeah. Yeah, it is better."

"Good," T2 smiled, walking his fingers under the material on Tony's stomach, making the other him already twitch and giggle. "Because this doesn't mean I can't get you. It is kinda even more fun this way. Just having my hands buried under your shirt, searching for the spots and the best reactions---"

"GAH!! HIHIHII!!"

"Oh, I think I found your outie. Let me make sure. Hmmmm, yeah, I think it does feel like your outie…"

"HIHIHIHI!!"

"I wanna join," S2 said with a grin, having enough of being a viewer. Instead of joining T2, he sat on the heated ground at the bottom of the sunbed.

"HAHAHA!!" Tony arched his back when the soft tummy tickling was joined by a light scribble of blunt fingernails across his soles.

"This is your pool party, babe," Steve said in a teasing voice, managing to take both of Tony's wrist in one hand and hold them outstretched above their heads. He used his newly free hand to scribble over the side of Tony's ribs, applying gentle pressure. Seemed that nature was even on their side and some clouds passed in front of the sun, shadowing the scenery and bringing a more soothing, calming feeling to their shared moment.

"Doesn't it feel good?" T2 asked his counterpart, matching his tickling in terms of playfulness to the other two, and just lightly scribbling over the smooth skin instead of properly digging in. "Your first triple tickle!"

Tony was giggling and giggling, feeling impossibly good. He twitched and tugged on his arms, whenever one of his lovers hit a more sensitive spot, but it wasn't the place and time for a proper tickle session, and the spot was quickly abandoned in favor of some less sensitive patch of skin. It was really good and reminded him of their shared mornings when everything was sleepy and giggly. It was something that would be hard for him to admit, but he felt really loved. Such intimate, soft moments between him and Steve were always one of his favorite memories when the tickling was gentle and slow, and having the same thing with his Steve and both T2 and S2 really made him happy.

When the sun showed from behind the cloud, it was a signal for everyone to stop. Steve let go of Tony's hands and Tony didn't feel a need to lower them, too comfortable and still giggling to be bothered. T2 smiled, seeing that smile on the other him's face. It was a smile full of happiness and trust, something they all had to work hard on to achieve. He leaned down and placed a gentle smooch near the corner of T1's mouth.

"Me and Steve brought a surprise for you both," T2 hummed out enticingly, placing the same kind of kiss on S1's face.

"Hmm, you did?" Tony asked with a relaxed smile, as Steve's kept moving his hands up and down over his ribs, additionally soothing him.

"Yeah, but we have to go home for it."

"Do we want to go home?" Tony asked playfully, looking at his fiance.

"Dunno, I am pretty comfortable her---EEEHHEEHE!!" Steve jumped up, the combined weight of two Tonys on top of him stopping him, until he jostled again, throwing T2 off balance and off of him, Tony toppling down after his counterpart. "AHAHAHA!!"

With a mischievous grin, holding his foot and tickling quickly was S2, still sitting on the ground. He saw a chance and took it.

"Ow, maybe some warning next time?!" T2 hissed, splayed on the ground with T1 spread on top of him, looking all confused.

"Sorry," S2 laughed, not sounding sorry at all.

"STOP IT!! STAHAHAHAP!!" Steve yelled, not able to contain his laughter, already sliding halfway off the sunbed in a failed attempt to escape. He somehow managed to snatch one of his feet, and aimed a kick at the other him, which S2 had successfully ducked, but it made him stop his play.

S2 whistled, observing the other him becoming limp and heavily catching his breath. "I forgot you get violent when your feet are being tickled. Guess next time I have to tie you down."

"Oooh, can we watch?" T2 asked on behalf of him and T1, and Tony nodded quickly to his words.

"When I tie him down? Sure," S2 said, which was answered with a lot of whining on Tonys' side that it wasn't what they meant.

"Don't… sound so smug," Steve breathed out, lifting himself up. "Remember that my spots are the same as your spots," he said, just because he wanted to wipe off some of the annoying smile S2 had from time to time. Somehow, it had an opposite effect and just added to it, like if S2 was throwing him a challenge.

"Anyway, our surprise is waiting!" S2 said, standing up and pulling both Tonys up effortlessly. "Come on."

"Steve, come on," Tony said, staying behind as the other dimension couple started walking to the house. "Come on, move it, it was just like ten seconds, man up," he urged his boyfriend. Steve just sent him a dry look, but slowly got up. "Good soldier."

Still feeling some tingling on the bottom of his feet, Steve and Tony followed the other couple.

One day…

***

Upon seeing the surprise T2 and S2 meant, there were two entirely different reactions. Steve froze in shock. Tony was delighted.

"The heck is all this," Steve whispered, eyeing with terrified eyes the whole display on the kitchen counter.

"This is really for us?!" Tony shrilled out, bouncing excitedly around laughing T2.

"Yup," S2 smiled wide, "freshly caught."

On the counter, on silver trays full of crushed ice was the biggest arrangement of fresh seafood Steve has ever seen. Huge, grey lobsters, crabs with big claws and a whole pile of closed, fist-size shells.

Steve felt a little overwhelmed, never before dealing with fresh seafood and not being a fan of the taste, to be honest. Yet here he was.

"This will be so great!" Tony continued to skip happily, being Steve's opposite and a big fan of seafood. He usually had to hold back in front of Steve to not irk him out, but with another seafood lover in the house, he had someone he could relate to. "Oh! I know. I am gonna pick some wine for us," Tony beamed, walking energetically from the kitchen.

"Hey, just don't get anything with a high acidity! Some Chablis or white Burgundy will do fine," T2 called after the other him.

"Well, duh," Tony made a face. It was obvious to him.

"Or maybe some champagne! Or never mind, I will go with you, I am not risking you screwing this one up," T2 announced, marching to T1.

"Excuse you, are you questioning my taste in wine?"

"Maybe not taste, but I don't know what bottles you kept in your wine cellar."

"Probably the same ones you have!"

"Can't risk it, can I?!"

Speaking of screwing up.

"Guys!" Steve called after Tonys, "what I am supposed to do with all that stuff?!" he asked, some panic hearable in his voice. Never in his life, he prepared seafood.

"Oh, you don't have to do a thing, my Steve has it under control!"

"Thaanks, S2! Steve, just listen to the other you!"

Figures. Steve turned around looking at his counterpart. "You know how to cook this all?"

"Yeah," S2 nodded, clearly enjoying the other him's confusion. "It is not that hard. You just need to know some ground rules."

Steve scrunched his nose. "I forgot you are one of those people that eat everything that is not fast enough to escape." Steve was not a vegetarian by any means, but he did enjoy a healthy bowl of salad from time to time. S2 was a true meat eater.

"Then you better start running," S2 grinned dangerously. Instead of fulfilling his promise, which did send a nice, involuntary shiver up Steve's back, he turned to the cabinets and took out a huge pot to put the lobsters in.

Steve was not used to not helping in the kitchen, but he also didn't know what to do. Seemed that he really had to listen to the other him…

"Um, anything I can do?" he asked, watching S2 filling the pot with water.

"You ever deshelled a lobster?"

"No."

"Opened an oyster?"

"No."

S2 sighed. "You can set the table." Some stubborn silence. "I mean it! Someone has to do it. Oh, and you can melt butter for the lobster."

Steve narrowed his eyes. He would melt the butter alright… He would melt it so much, it would knock off S2's socks.

***

"Sooo goood!"

Steve tried to hold back the way his shoulders jumped each time one of the Tonys cracked open a lobster or crab. The exterior turned orange after cooking and the meat inside was white and tender. The smell wasn't even so bad, somehow fishy, but not overpowering. Just the sound was the worst.

"This is so amazing," Tonys kept smiling and praising, always being enthusiastic and grateful when it came to food. It was a pleasure to watch them eat with an appetite. "Those kinds of butter are amazing!"

Steve prepared three kinds of butter for the lobster, acting as a dipping sauce. Parsley and garlic, spicy citrus, smoked paprika and a lot a lemon wedges. There was a bowl with traditional, clarified butter for a more classic taste, and Tonys were happily dipping various chunks of crabs and lobster into the butter bowls or pouring over the portions on their plates.

"Steve, come on, sit down already!" T2 called to his boyfriend, cracking lobster claw open at the same time. S2 kept standing at the pots, serving out freshly cooked crustaceans whenever they were ready. It was easy to overcook lobsters and crabs and he had to be extra careful.

"I will be done soon!" S2 answered, multitasking and tossing some breaded bits on the pan.

"You have to try this," Tony hummed enticingly, inching his plate closer to his Steve, with a long piece of white meat.

"What is that?" Steve asked, growing suspicious.

"Lobster tail. Just cracked it opened. It is the best part of a lobster."

"Uhmm… Isn't lobster only a tail and claws?" Steve asked, noticing that almost all the claws were devoured by T2.

"There are also legs!" T2 said happily, waving a little lobster leg above his head for Steve to see. "Not much meat in them, but it is so sweet!"

"Just one bite, Steve," Tony asked, even preparing the dish for him and pouring some clarified butter over the meat and squeezing out a lemon wedge. T2 leaned out, chewing his portion and even S2 turned around to watch Steve's first bite of a lobster in his entire life. With such an audience, he couldn't back up.

Steve took a fork and tore a chunk of meat off. It was a firm kind of meat, not as flaky as a fish. Okay, first bite. Steve expected strong, salty flavor, but the meat was delicate, and tender and juicy. He had no idea if it was supposed to taste like that or if it was thanks to S2's skills. Three pairs of eyes were looking expectantly at him, waiting for his verdict.

"It's… It's good," Steve said, sounding surprised on his own. Raw fish on sushi, octopus prepared in any way were not his flavors, but maybe lobster was.

There was a general outburst of happiness from Tonys, and S2 smiled turning back to his pots.

"Now you have to try some crab!"

"And a lobster leg!"

"Try this," S2 said, sliding in Steve's direction a plate with golden, breaded bits they had seen him earlier tossing on the pan.

"What is that?"

T2 gasped loudly, and Tony dropped his fork with a loud clang as the utensil hit his plate.

"Pan-fried oysters," T2 whispered breathlessly and both Tonys looked at Steve's plate with wide open, hungry eyes. Didn't matter that Tony was still chewing some of his food, he clearly wanted those oysters.

"Guys, let him eat in peace!" S2 ordered, pointing tongs he used to fish out lobster at their boys. "I have oysters for you too, just decide if you want them as oyster shooters, or pan-fried."

"Can't we have both?!"

"Yeah, we want both!"

Steve looked at the fried bits on his plate. He saw raw oysters and they didn't look too appetizing. But he already tried some lobster, he could try this too. He put his fork into one bit and cut it in half, hearing a nice crunch from the breading. Time for a taste test. Again, Steve expected something slimy and awful, but it was creamy and salty and, dared he say that, quite delicious. Well, everything was better fried.

"Do you like it?" S2 asked, putting a plate of opened, raw oysters on ice for Tonys, with some more lemon wedges. Oyster shooters.

"Yhhm," Steve smiled at the other him, simultaneously watching as the half of the oysters were disappearing, almost as if Tonys were having a contest who could swallow more in a shorter time. "But I am not trying this," Steve pointed his fork at the fresh oysters. That looked slimy. "Why there is water inside it?" he asked, noticing the liquid the slimy thing was gently submerged in.

"It is sea water," S2 explained, taking one half of the shell and putting it to his mouth, slurping the content out with a wet sound, and Steve looked a little panicked as he imagined the slimy thing going down his throat. "Really gives the flavor," he said, putting the shell back on the platter, just turning it. "Hey, you see that?!" he barked at Tonys, getting their attention. "If you are done with the oysters, put the shells like this back on the plate! And keep the lobster and crab shells in one place and not all over the table!"

"Yes, sir!" T1 joked, and even saluted, earning himself a glare from S2. Probably the very first one he had ever received from the other Steve. "T2, how can you mock Steve like that?!" Tony turned to the other him, gasping in faked horror, and T2 blinked, his mouth full of crab, "after all his slaving in the kitchen to make a seafood feast for us!"

S2 laughed and turned back to his pots, deciding to let that offense slide. Steve continued to eat, feeling the home atmosphere getting to him. It was a really comforting feeling and he kept smiling gently, chewing on his lobster tail, not even commenting that the pan-fried oysters somehow magically disappeared from his plate. He had a feeling that if he would ask S2 for seconds, the other him wouldn't mind preparing it.

***

The sun was setting down and the day was slowly ending, soon changing into the night. It was quiet and serene, just one voice was echoing in the air.

"Okay, ready?! One, two… Three!"

Two voices.

Tony jumped with a squeal, catching in his hands a makeshift bouquet consisting of some palm leaves. "I got it, I got it! I am gonna get married!"

"Wooo!" T2 cheered, wobbling on his legs, "now do me, do me!"

"Okay!"

"What is going on here?" Steve asked, observing Tonys from a distance, playing some game near the pool. He stopped next to S2 who was spread on a wide hammock hanging between two palm trees. Tony's house really had everything.

"They are drunk," S2 said happily, observing their boyfriend's. Two bottles of white wine, one rose, and sparkling for the end. Steves had drunk some too but weren't affected, in opposite to their partners. Steve just left them three alone for few minutes, having to throw out the leftovers of the seafood, while he walked on a lot of screaming and chaos. Tony turned around and took some swings, before tossing the leaves and T2 sprung forward, reaching his hands to catch it. When he did, he hollered in excitement, Tony spinning around and yelling too.

"It's mine, it's mine! I am gonna get married too!"

"Yeaaaaah! Now toss it back!"

"Noooo, I can't, my marriage depends on it!"

Steve listened to the hiccuped words and Tony yelling that he would get married anyway, blinking in confusion. "Are they… practicing throwing flowers for the wedding?"

"Yeah," S2 laughed, "they are so stupid while drunk, it is adorable."

"Hey! Keep your distance from the water!" Steve yelled when his Tony started to chase the other him to get the bouquet, yelling that if he won't get married it would be his fault, dangerously close to the edge of the swimming pool.

"Oh, they will be fine," S2 waved his hand dismissively. "Not counting the massive headache they will have tomorrow," he added on a more mischievous note.

"Away from the water! Away from the water!" Steve kept yelling, and Tonys did step back a little bit. "Don't make me come over there!"

"Wow, you had to be fun at parties," S2 pointed out with a smirk, swaying in the hammock.

"Hey, there are some rules, okay?" Steve turned to the other him, his face gaining a serious look. "Like don't get close to water after drinking alcohol. Or just poach lobster to release the meat from the shell and not cook it. You said it yourself."

"Yeah, but those are the rules for cooking. This is vacation---"

"Yp!" Steve yelped when he was strongly tugged over and pulled to the hammock.

"--- no rules during vacation," S2 said, having Steve pressed into his side and smiling at him with a peculiar glint in his eyes.

"Are you drunk too?" Steve asked after a while, finding this situation suspicious.

S2 laughed loudly. "Will you relax? You always think that I am planning something," he said, looping his hand around the other man.

"You usually are," Steve grumbled but decided to go along with the situation and made himself more comfortable by putting his head in the crook of S2's neck and placing one arm on the other him's stomach. He couldn't move too much anyway, because the hammock was already wobbling and Steve started to worry if their combined weight wasn't too much for the net to last.

"Yeah, but not this time," S2 answered with a smug grin, to which Steve narrowed his eyes. It was that unnerving, cocky smile S2 liked to treat him to from time to time. Joke on him.

S2 eeped and the smile was gone when Steve surged up quickly and pressed their lips together in a brief kiss. It was still surprising how soft their lips were together. When Steve drew back, it was as if their facial expressions exchanged during the contact.

"Oh, cute one, doll," S2 said, narrowing his eyes at the other him's smug smile. He framed Steve's face and caressed his cheeks, before letting their lips meet again, properly this time. Slow and sweet and testing. They would have to test a lot to find the proper pace for them, but somehow, Steve didn't mind giving it a shot.

"Make room for the groom!"

Was all the warning they got before T2 took a running start and launched himself onto the hammock, heavily landing across the blonds, while the hammock made an ominous sound of protest among the laughter and surprised screaming.

"And here comes the bride!" and T1 followed, landing on the top of the human pile, drawing out more screams and laughter from his lovers and---

SNAP!!

The hammock gave up, sending them all crashing to the ground, their startled yelps accompanying them all the way down, soon changing into grunts of pain and some cursing. And then again into a whole lot of happy laughter, echoing into the sunset.

————

<– previous part // next part —>

#stony #tony stark #steve rogers #tony stark is ticklish #ticklish!tony #steve rogers is ticklish #ticklish!steve #belly tickling #feet tickling #brief #fanfic #fanfiction #double trouble reunion fic #double trouble #double trouble fic #double trouble reunion

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hellomynameisbisexual · 7 years

Text

Pride Month 2017 - Some notes on Bisexuality July 08, 2017

In case you hadn't already picked up from following me on Twitter, I'm quite open about the fact I'm bisexual. This was meant to be posted during pride month 2017 but was delayed due to other commitments. Whoops!

This isn't something I've ever felt a particular desire to be an activist about, but there are a lot misconceptions floating around and I'm reliably informed that my visibility might be useful to people who are still figuring out their sexual orientation.

So, here are some of my thoughts on common myths about bisexuality. If you have any other questions drop me a line and I'll do my best to answer.

"Everyone/No one is bisexual"

Someone's sexual orientation is a deeply personal thing that we all have to decide for ourselves. It seems a bit presumptuous to tell other people who they're attracted to!

I've never been particularly "camp" so most people assume I'm straight until they see or hear otherwise. I would suggest that if you think no one around you is bisexual, you're probably not looking hard enough or you've made assumptions about people based on who they're dating.

For those who think "everyone" is bisexual, that's not true for the reasons mentioned in the first paragraph. But what you are right about is it's not always an exact 50-50 split for everyone, so our community is much larger than official figures would suggest. Some people prefer labels like "heteroflexible", "homoflexible" or "fluid" to better describe the gender split among the people they're attracted to.

"Isn't the term 'bisexual' transphobic?"

It depends on the definition you subscribe to. I opt for "attracted to more than one gender" rather than "attracted to both genders" (which presupposes that only two are possible). Others prefer less ambiguous labels like "pansexual", but in my experience I've found using this label raises more questions than it answers.

In the past I've had people break-off dates with me/start ghosting after I told them I was bisexual. Knowing how much that sucked, the idea of doing the same to other people on the grounds of their gender doesn't really appeal to me. I'm attracted to whoever I'm attracted to, and I'll behave accordingly.

"Are you monogamous?"

Yes. I always have been and I play by the same relationship rules other monogamous people do. I'm no less happy or committed when I'm in a relationship either.

I often hear "you must like three-ways" from people who seem to be confused about the difference between bisexuality and polyamory. There's nothing wrong with polyamory between consenting adults, but it's not what I'm into.

I tend to assume this myth that bisexuals aren't great at monogamy comes from the same school of thought that claims we're "greedy" or "sluts".

Just like any other responsible single person in their 20s I use protection & get myself checked regularly. I'd also like to clarify I'm not attracted to more people than anyone else (aside from asexuals, obviously). All that's different is the people I'm attracted to aren't all the same gender!

"Bisexuals are just confused"

Growing up I was indeed "confused", but not about who I was or wasn't attracted to. I was confused because everyone around me seemed to think you could only be into one gender, and that it had to be male or female. As a result I spent a lot of time questioning myself and it took longer to "come out" (with a few false starts) because I didn't think calling myself 'gay' was accurate.

I came out to close friends around 6 years ago and have been open about it "offline" for about 4 years now. But I admit I'm still guilty sometimes of just saying I'm straight or gay to people I don't know for a quiet life. It can be tiresome having to convince everyone I exist and answer the same questions over and over again. Not everyone is worth the effort.

While I would never presume to doubt anyone's anecdotal evidence of closeted gay friends who briefly claimed they were bisexual before they were comfortable being open, in my experience those identifying as bisexual are usually sincere about it and just as annoyed as me about that particular stereotype.

I can confirm that for me being bisexual is not "just a phase". Admittedly I might sometimes spend a few months feeling like I'm attracted to one gender more often than another (I tend to assume that's just luck of the draw). But I've never found myself exclusively attracted to just one gender, and I've never suddenly discovered I'm not attracted to someone I was previously attracted to based on their gender.

"If you're in a same-sex relationship then you're gay, aren't you? (and vice versa)"

Imagine you support the Liberal Democrats. However you're told that you can only vote for the Conservatives and Labour, and that by choosing one of them you'll always be known to everyone as a supporter of that party and be expected to vote that way for the rest of your life.

That obviously doesn't make much sense. Your vote for either party wouldn't reflect your real political identity and the party you opt for could easily change between general elections. Who you voted for this election doesn't dictate who you'll vote for next time, and there are still a whole load of smaller parties you could opt for that weren't even mentioned as options.

It's not a perfect analogy, but it more or less illustrates the deal with bisexuality. It is a distinct sexual orientation I have about as much control over as you have over yours. It doesn't change because I happen to be in a same-sex or opposite-sex relationship, and neither does my current relationship dictate the one that might follow it.

"You have bi privilege!"

There's a pervasive myth that bisexuals can just retreat into straight privilege on the grounds we can "pretend" to be straight.

I can understand where this myth comes from, as from the outside it can seem like non-camp bisexuals in straight relationships are "getting away with it". (I'm assuming we're all smart enough to agree that bisexuals in same-sex relationships experience all the same discrimination gay and lesbian couples do).

However, a few points worth bearing in mind: 1. A not small number of people (both gay and straight) just flat-out refuse to date bisexuals because of the preconceptions I've mentioned in this post 2. Fewer resources are allocated to dealing with the bisexual community's problems (particularly around mental health) so we have worse outcomes 3. We often find ourselves being criticised from all sides, so don't always feel like we're part of the LGBTQ community 4. When you come out as bisexual you're much less likely to be believed, which makes being open much harder

I've never been to a pride. This isn't because I'm opposed to them (quite the opposite!), but I don't see where I would fit in. Standing in the crowd at the side erases my existence, but visibly marching under the bi flag can also draw controversy and abuse. I hope one day to brave it and see how it works out for me, as it'll probably be much better than I expect.

The recent debacle around bisexual representation at London Pride kind of illustrates my point though that we're the least likely to be out and we're not particularly high up on anyone's list of priorities for outreach. Bi-erasure is a significant problem, as are bad TV tropes that amplify the myths.

In summary, bisexuality isn't an "easy option" with special privileges. Anyone who is identifying that way under the illusion it's some sort of cop-out is in for severe disappointment!

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sincerelybillie · 4 years

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Longer Than Most Marriages

That’s what I hear the most. About how long this has lasted. And as if marriage hasn’t come up and pregnancy scares haven’t manifested into something that forced me to become a better long-term planner than someone with depression can sometimes even be. I think I’ve had my one Big Love. I realize it more in moments of traumatic flashbacks and fresher, newer, more recent abuse. But I definitely knew it was a Big Love when I first felt it, as a teenager turning everything into poetry and playlists. Though that girl has barely changed.

Once I had been treated bad, then good, it made me feel the pain of having been treated bad in a different way. Even if I was already grieving the years I lost and unraveling the twisted ideas planted in my young brain that hardened me into a clay pot that breaks much easier than it was built and can’t grow anything that doesn’t die quickly... the brain that had my processed good, healthy love was also processing your sadness and resentment that I didn’t get it sooner.

Having it bad isn’t a prerequisite to deserve good. It is not the only thing that can teach us to appreciate or nurture someone and the love you share with them, as if some polar opposite experience has to be the singular source of perspective. You’re justifying your own hell at that point.

What I learn every year initially makes me deeply uncomfortable, and starts with a series of triggers that I have to muddle through (tightness in my throat, tears pouring down my face, soaking my shirt, and swelling my eyes, and genuinely believing the only way out of this situation and feeling is killing myself).

On the other side of that horrific tunnel, I have always made it out alive, more empathetic, and more reasonable. Better, kinder, more useful, more honest. I still get Bad Brain. I still lose my temper. I still have nightmares and panic attacks. And I still haven’t quite figured out how to completely cut off the people who continue to invalidate, gaslight, and abuse me, and then tell me I am playing victim.

I’m not playing. It’s not a role I claim or pretend to be. It was imposed on me, assigned, without consent or remorse or accountability. I know I am a victim because I know they are perpetrators and I know what they have done to me. The fact that they have been victims and experienced trauma themselves does not give them a pass. Statistically, it gives them motive and/or mental health disorders. It also does not impress me if they endured more and didn’t “complain” as much as I am by talking about it as much as I do (which still isn’t very much and is still relatively ambiguous for safety reasons).

They won’t get therapy, they won’t tell people the truth, and they threaten me if I discuss anything that might link them to the events that have harmed me physically, mentally, emotionally, financially, psychologically and sexually. I have little control over their response, values, or sense of humanity.

I also know I am a survivor. Some days, I don’t feel like that because I am still keeping secrets, I still live in fear in certain spaces, and I still haven’t sought legal action against the crimes committed against me by multiple people. I’m just this person who has been set off fire, had my entire body damaged inside and out, and continues to walk around and live life. That’s supposed to be badass, maybe. But sometimes, it’s frustrating and depressing to have become that charred, scarred thing. Even if people do praise you for being brave or strong. I didn’t want to be known as those things, while keeping their causes a secret. I didn’t want that secret to be the price I paid to become those things, especially became I became other less admirable things, too. And the price came with interest.

Whether I talk about it today, have been slowly talking about it in a little more detail over time, or whether I mention it in 20 years, I know I will be met with skepticism, shame, or disrespect, more so than I have received it now. It has discouraged me and hurt me and made me want to not even bother, stop trying before even starting to seek justice.

I can’t put everyone who’s done something heinous to me behind bars or in the ground because I am not the one who serves justice, acts on my rage violently, or honestly has financial resources or time to focus on that person or person(s) enough. I don’t know what justice or reparations would even look like because I have gotten so used to navigating the world with the hand I was dealt, or creating physical distance from that hand as my only escape/solution because the law or the culture wasn’t designed for me to get much else if I was even lucky enough to get to leave.

The kindest thing I did for myself was invest in a relationship that was good for me, in a person who was good to me, and take care of it as a friendship and relationship for over ten years. I consider art to be so important in my healing too, but this person and relationship allowed me to blossom as a writer and as an artist, and often provided seemingly endless inspiration. Positive inspiration, as I didn’t have to draw from my hurt or reveal to people in moments of vulnerability or over sharing - whichever it was at the time - that I have had my mind, body, and spirit rattled by intense, unforgettable trauma. And look, I can do something creative with that trauma and sell my sadness.

Today, I am so much more affirmative in both my relationships with people and in my art. I celebrate more than I mourn, which wasn’t happening before. It’s like going on a writer’s retreat in a jumpy castle. Or doing something as simple but significant as sending people you care about cards just because you want to, as opposed to being in a prison and only using your creative passions for escapism so you didn’t go crazy or kill yourself.

I was in very dangerous, toxic, and regrettable environments and relationships before and even after (for familiarity) the one I shared that I can actually be proud of and am deeply fond of. I had to acknowledge how cruel and ugly I had become because of what I learned and picked up and accepted as the way I was going to handle and survive relationships.

But I got to unravel, cry, and grow up in a safe and healthy space to do so, with someone who was patient and compassionate and taught me an unmatched level of unconditional love. I did not take it for granted, knowing they deserved the best from me too and weren’t in service to my growth just because I was some fucked up thing they ended up loving somehow (though I was confused, self sabotaged, and hurt them in the beginning). It wasn’t their choice to like or love me, but it was their choice to stay, and I wanted to honour that.

I wanted to earn and maintain what I had been so lucky to have found and been given, and even when we weren’t together, I wanted to be good for the sake of being good.

I wouldn’t say this means I won’t fall in love with anyone ever again because it will be and has been different and meaningful in other ways to love others and enter a variety of platonic, romantic, and sexual relationships from my teens to my mid 20’s. I had to be careful not to assign so much significance to the healthiest, best thing I had ever had (so far, at the time) that I became close minded to anyone or anything else.

I do, however, stand by the sentiment of knowing I have had my one Big Love. Maybe if you check back in a year from now, I will have experienced something even more transformational and radically uplifting. I haven’t said that in the ten years I am talking about so it seems unlikely based off history, but I’m still open to the possibility.

I just think about people who talk about all the heartaches it takes to find the one or even the divorces that happen before someone meets their soulmate, and how I have mixed feelings about monogamy, and I am only 24, and I took what, like one sociology class on marriage and family? And I have gained so much more language and understanding about what I want and who I am, so really, what the hell ultimate conclusion could I possibly come to at this point in my life?

But I shouldn’t discredit the experience and knowledge I gained with my Big Love, especially because I experienced it during such developmental years as a teenager in high school, young adult in college, and well into my post grad life and now, wow, the age where I’ve been around for a quarter of a century.

I am forever thankful for my Big Love. I got it so young, among other experiences that shaped me as a child and adolescent. Amidst absolute chaos and hopelessness and feelings that I was getting shortchanged from the whole goddamn universe, I still had my talent, my soul, and people who loved me and allowed those things to flourish more than they could in other spaces among other individuals.

It’s hard (but still possible and does occur) to be mad at the world when the same one did give you something so special. I don’t find the trade off fair to be honest, but I don’t get a say in that, and despite my lingering youthful wishes, I can’t change the past.

I do get a say in who I become, how I respond, and how well I love. I deserve to be, do, and have the best. That’s what my Big Love taught me. So, now, I love big.

#personal #writing #sincerelybillie #2019 #new years #trauma #PTSD #depression #love #anxiety #healing

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themiddlelayer · 5 years

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Letting go...

As expected, MM and I had more heavy talks over dinner last night. It started out as a conversation about the money stuff. He is juggling things and doing what he can to stretch things out through the end of the year, but the goal truly is for me to start monetizing my talks and coaching.

From there, we talked more about us. He was genuinely confused as to why ‘the incident’ was such a big deal. He was good about not invalidating my feelings or making me feel crazy for how I reacted, but he truly didn’t understand. In his eyes, it was something we’d done before but this time I freaked out and “hated him forever.”

**TW after link: description of sexual assault/ childhood abuse**

He said that there had been plenty of times where he’d checked out and been aggressive like that but that I always took control when I became uncomfortable or I needed to change how things were going. I explained that this was the first time ever that I physically couldn’t do that. He had my head gripped with both hands and was jerking my neck around. I went limp and just endured it.

He acknowledged that he was aware of his tendency to dissociate during sex and it seemed to click for him that having sex at all, knowing how he checked out was wrong. It was was akin to driving drunk. This time there was an accident and I was hurt... badly.

He also said that he knew he sounded like an ass, but that part of him felt like he was being punished for things that happened before us. He hadn’t realized how many times things like that had happened with us, just to a different degree. All he could grasp was that nothing like that had happened in a long time and that as soon as I started to exert my own bodily autonomy he changed his behavior. I reminded him of the time he didn’t listen to my “no” this time last year, right when we got with Nomad and Gypsy. And that we haven’t actually had sex regularly in about a year. We stopped having sex before the quad imploded and before that, he was still checking out and objectifying me when we were together.

His therapy appointment went really well, though. He said that the therapist laid out a treatment plan including EMDR and he was really comfortable with her. All of his childhood stuff is coming to light for him and I really want to see him happy and healthy.

That’s what I said to him at one point, “I want you happy and healthy more than I want you mine.”

When we got together, I was afraid that because I’d lived my life and had experiences that he hadn’t that he would eventually want those same kinds of experiences and resent me for holding him back. I was right. He never got out and dated. He never figured out who he is outside of a relationship. And I know I’m semi-guilty of that myself but I still had periods of time where I was on my own. Not necessarily single, but I didn’t have anyone to depend on or to influence my choices.

This last year has been about me realizing I was right all along and knew who I was under all of the garbage. For him, this year has been about realizing that he wants more ‘true poly’ and independence. He needs that so that he can find himself at last. And I can’t do that with him. I can’t ‘share him’ like that. I’ve known that from day one and the quad just showed me I was right.

I grew up without rules or boundaries... abandoned. He grew up being abused verbally, sexually, physically, emotionally... unable to think or breathe without fear. I grew up learning how to survive without help. He grew up learning how to survive by protecting himself and being a chameleon in order to go unseen. Unseen means unhurt. He also talked about how he was a ‘dirty kid’ at one point and his therapist talked about how children who are sexually abused do that as a defense mechanism. If they are gross or unattractive, their abusers won’t want them. It’s heartbreaking. Truly.

We built this big, beautiful life but the cracks in our own foundations ran too deep. So now what?

For now, MM knows I’m going to be staying with Tampa more often and that as much as he feels wrong not talking to me about his other relationships that I can’t hear it. At one point I told him that leaving this house... our home... wasn’t an option I’d ever considered. But now, I don’t know. We have this big beautiful life but on top of everything else, I don’t think we can afford it without me going back to a job that will kill me. Again. And I can’t do that. These will be conversations to have as we start to heal ourselves, I think. But the clock is ticking on the money stuff. And with Tampa living an hour away the job thing is even trickier in a way.

Something I did share about Tampa with MM is that things Tampa does and says that would have historically given me a knot in my stomach simply don’t. I’ve been with so many porn addicts that it was always a hot button, but Tampa has talked about porn and masturbation so comfortably with me that it doesn’t bring the same response.

Two days in a row, previous partners of sorts reached out to him looking to reconnect. One was a sub who broke the rules they established and tried to follow him out here when he left. She was reaching out to apologize but also fishing for a rekindling of sorts. He told her that he wished her well but he’s seeing someone and is very happy.

The other one was a married woman he was with here not long after he moved to town. Her husband travelled a lot and they had an agreement about non-monogamy of sorts. They didn’t know anything about poly, but they did have Tampa over for dinner so her husband could get to know him as well and they were friendly. The husband had a change in work stuff and wasn’t travelling so they ended it amicably. Tampa told me about her before and again as soon as she reached out. They had dinner plans and but she ended up cancelling later in the day. He also said that he told her about my talks and that he’d let her know next time I do one because he thinks they would learn a lot.

We were cuddled up in bed when Tampa looked at me and said, “I’m going to make you a promise...” and he told me that right now he doesn’t want anyone but me. If the time comes that there is other interest he will talk to me upfront and that I can say no. He gave me veto power! When he talks about his past experiences with swinging and other forms of non-monogamy he always says that the things I’m not comfortable with are ‘not mandatory.’

Tampa knows who he is and what he wants. He has lived life and had experiences and knows what matters most to him. He reassures me constantly of how valued and loved I am as a whole person. I feel so secure with him! I just need to really figure out the logistics of life there. I loved being at home with dinner ready for him and I’ve told him that in a perfect world my income would be optional. He talks about how great that would be, but I don’t know how to actually ask him... “Would you support me if I was here more than part-time? Will you take care of me like that?” I hate the idea of being dependant on anyone else, but at the same time I know that my ideal relationship is one where I will have the time and energy to make a home for my partner.

I told him I’d make him breakfast bites and made him a shopping list. He doesn’t like shopping but I didn’t feel comfortable offering to do it because it would involve asking him for money. I know it’s money for food and things for his home, but it still feels weird to me. I hate talking about money stuff. But that conversation will have to happen soon if I’m going to be there.

His birthday is next weekend and I offered to do the legwork of finding a hotel and the indoor skydiving stuff. He’s not a planner, which is a relief in some ways but there are some things that have to be booked in advance and I’ve got the time to take care of things like that.

Time to get to work planning next weekend. Tampa just sent me a listing for a house he’s interested in, too. If internet isn’t an issue out there, it’s practically his dream house. Crazy!

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beyond-en-scene · 7 years

Photo

Monica by Hera Lindsay Bird

Monica Monica Monica Monica Monica Geller off popular sitcom F.R.I.E.N.D.S Is one of the worst characters in the history of television She makes me want to wash my hands with hand sanitizer She makes me want to stand in an abandoned Ukrainian parking lot And scream her name at a bunch of dead crows Nobody liked her, except for Chandler He married her, and that brings me to my second point What kind of a name for a show was F.R.I.E.N.D.S When two of them were related And the rest of them just fucked for ten seasons? Maybe their fucking was secondary to their friendship Or they all had enough emotional equilibrium To be able to maintain a constant state of mutual-respect Despite the fuckingOr conspicuous nonfucking That was occurring in their lives But I have to sayIt just doesn’t seem emotionally realistic Especially considering that They were not the most self-aware of people And to be able to maintain a friendship Through the various complications of heterosexual monogamy Is enormously difficult Especially when you take into consideration What cunts they all were I fell in love with a friend once And we liked to congratulate each other what good friends we were And how it was great that we could be such good friends, and still fuck Until we stopped fucking And then we weren’t such good friends anymore I had a dream the other night About this friend, and how we were walking Through sunlight, many years ago Dragged up from the vaults, like Old military propaganda You know the kind; young women leaving a factory Arm in arm, while their fiancées Are being handsomely shot to death in Prague And even though this friend doesn’t love me anymore And I don’t love them At least, not in a romantic sense The memory of what it had been like not to want To strap concrete blocks to my head And drown myself in a public fountain rather than spend another day With them not talking to me Came back, and I remembered the world For a moment, as it had been When we had just met, and love seemed possible And neither of us resented the other one And it made me sad Not just because things ended badly But more broadly Because my sadness had less to do with the emotional specifics of that situation And more to do with the transitory nature of romantic love Which is becoming relevant to me once again Because I just met someone new And this dream reminded me That, although I believe that there are ways that love can endure It’s just that statistically, or Based on personal experience It’s unlikely that things are going to go well for long There is such a narrow window For happiness in this life And if the past is anything to go by Everything is about to go slowly but inevitably wrong In a non-confrontational, but ultimately disappointing way Monica Monica Monica Monica Monica Geller from popular sitcom F.R.I.E.N.D.S Was the favourite character of the Uber driver Who drove me home the other day And is the main reason for this poem Because I remember thinking Monica??? Maybe he doesn’t remember who she is Because when I asked him specifically Which character he liked best off F.R.I.E.N.D.S He said ‘the woman’ And when I listed their names for him Phoebe, Rachel and Monica He said Monica But he said it with a kind of question mark at the end Like……. Monica? Which led me to believe Either, he was ashamed of liking her Or he didn’t know who he was talking about And had got her confused with one of the other Less objectively terrible characters I think the driver meant to say Phoebe Because Phoebe is everyone’s favourite She once stabbed a police officer She once gave birth to her brother’s triplets She doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks about her Monica gives a shit what everyone thinks about her Monica’s parents didn’t treat her very well And that’s probably where a lot of her underlying insecurities come from That have since manifested themselves in controlling And manipulative behaviour It’s not that I think Monica is unredeemable I can recognize that her personality has been shaped By a desire to succeed And that even when she did succeed, it was never enough Particularly for her mother, who made her feel like her dreams were stupid And a waste of time And that kind of constant belittlement can do fucked up things to a person So maybe, getting really upset when people don’t use coasters Is an understandable, or at least comparatively sane response To the psychic baggage Of your parents never having believed in you Often I look at the world And I am dumbfounded that anyone can function at all Given the kind of violence that So many people have inherited from the past But that’s still no excuse to throw A dinner plate at your friends, during a quiet game of Pictionary And even if that was an isolated incident And she was able to move on from it It still doesn’t make me want to watch her on TV I am falling in love and I don’t know what to do about it Throw me in a haunted wheelbarrow and set me on fire And don’t even get me started on Ross

#monica #hera lindsay bird #friends #poem #f.r.i.e.n.d.s

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polystumbles · 7 years

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Diary 9/2/2016: CTRL-Z

Everyone makes mistakes. It's at the core of how I approach many things in life: you have to recognize the difference between mistakes and malice. Sometimes the mistakes can't be explained, but we try -- to explain, the explain away, to understand. I made some early mistakes. Some bigger than others. I went on my first date without telling Amy. It had been discussed, the limits set, but the date itself, hidden away. I opened an OkCupid account without discussing it with her to get that date. Other missteps along the way came and, most crucially, went.

When Amy breached our Wuzzle’s trust in being reckless, I hoped, then I knew, that it was a mistake that came and would go. When she asked for a relationship that I was not comfortable with, that such a request would go was not clear that it was a mistake and that it would pass. Mistake is a hard word. It's a stretch to use in many cases, an ex post facto attribution of an action as outside our moral or rational frameworks. But inside the moment of choice, action or inaction, there is its own morality, priority, need, and rationale. This week, Z made one such questionable judgement. A mistake? A necessity? As with Amy, maybe both.

Tuesday after Amy, me and the kids got back, I met Z for lunch at her job. We ate in a nearby park and walked for a bit before we parted. Interestingly, I was a little surprised that Z didn't mention hanging out with Duane this past weekend. I would have thought this would have been the perfect time for them to spend some extended time together. I thought it was strange, but Z hadn't told me anything, but Tuesday’s lunch had veered into stories of how much my life had been affected by racism, and what Z did share about her weekend made it sound disappointing, and as if she had spent it unhappy. Had Duane canceled?

For those of you that don't know, Z had let me know in August of her intent to have sex with Duane. We've been together 3.5 years and no one in the past 3 years has had held her interest long enough to make it this far. A lot has changed since then. We've fallen in love, she's become an anchor partner, and our lives have become entwined in beautiful ways. Then since about 2015, our pod, our wuzzle, our Vee, has been slowly branching out.

I've been supportive but (reasonably?) nervous about Z and Duane. Given what happened with Amy, given my sex drive, my nerves had as much basis as most mistakes. I knew this threshold, particularly their having sex, matters to me more than it “should”. I want to know that she’ll still want me as their relationship grows -- especially if it draws down her desire on weekends when we put in a lot of our, um, work. Will this affect our balance? It certainly didn’t help that I had been emotionally dealing with my mom so much upon my return. Or some of the conversations I had had with Amy in Chicago. It certainly isn’t about Duane. An intelligent, patient, kind, Haitian, New York City native, who can hold her interest, plan dates, and put a smile on her face is a great partner in my book, not that I need to approve partners! I certainly could not have made it all summer without our making love! The guy was a saint in my book.

In part, I know I'm emotionally re-adjusting to the open parts of us: we always have been open but it's looked much like “monogamy+1” (my term for closed 3 person relationships) and that thinking is hard to shake at times. While, I’ve had sex with others since we started dating, (I was still dating Bee for our first year, and Amy and I tried to date Triscuit, and ended up with a one night stand.) It's been a few years, so I haven't had a new partner in a similar time period as Z. Their dating is not without benefit to me, I appreciated the thought that Duane would keep her happy all weekend I was away. I was able to give Thing 2 an incredible birthday present -- full of family and art and adventure. And there were times this summer where Duane managed to put a smile on her face on days where I couldn’t. I was, in a word: appreciative. Then come our conversations Tuesday and Wednesday, I was just confused. But it wasn't really my business. Given Z's general desire for privacy I did not push questions about their relationship. This was a fundamental difference from my relationship with Amy: Z’s dating would be built on trust, not transparency.

But there were things I needed to know, at least according to our Safer Sex Guidelines, at least before we were intimate again which came that Thursday morning.Then on Friday, I found out I was wrong about my assessment that Z and Duane had not had sex this past weekend. I found out during an awkward and incidental conversation. There it was. Z of seemingly impeccable judgment, had made what I considered her first real mistake of our relationship, a mistake perhaps born out of of her desire for privacy.

Z and I are sitting talking about how she's been contemplating getting off birth control. I'm wondering how it might affect her moods would it help, would it hurt? Is it why she is tired more often? She's been on some form of hormonal birth control since she's been sexually active or she's had the non-hormonal IUD which caused its own set of problems with her body rejecting it (a rare complication more common on women who haven't had a child). I was willing to get a vasectomy if it would make her feel better about her having sex. We talked for a bit about whether or not she'd want to have kids and she said that the idea didn't repulse her the way it did year or two ago. But that if she would have kids she would most likely want to adopt. But she didn't know that she could pass adoption if she continued being polyamorous. I reassured her that I don't think that it would be an issue in New York state -- if you're willing to adopt a child who is not an infant or willing to adopt a child of color, I think NYC would not ask many questions about us. Though perhaps I was optimistic, as I was not working off of any data.

A vasectomy would clearly cover me, but not her other partners. I joked that as long as Duane wasn't a multi-round freak like me, she'd be fine. But Duane it turns out, was bad at his condom usage, going through a few putting them on backward. Wait. What? If they put on a condom, did they have sex? She dances around it for what seems like forever, but comes around to just say yes. It was an awkward time to have this conversation, moments before we were naked and she had my hard cock in her hand. Now I was flaccid and the cuteness of the conversation had left the room like a quick deflating balloon.

She said she didn't know why she omitted it Tuesday. I told her she had no reason to: her kiss when we met, her comment that it felt longer than three days I had been away, (she missed me) those were the kinds of reassurances I needed. She had given me them, and I had notices. They felt so special, because they were. She didn't need to tell me then, at first meeting, she knew we weren't going to be intimate Tuesday, she needed to tell me by Wednesday night. Before the possibility of our love making presented itself. By Thursday morning we were intimate, going two rounds that morning.

She wondered aloud, if she hadn’t emailed me. She fumbled a bit that telling me about his test results, was her disclosure. The two lay incongruous, of course. Had she really felt the latter, she wouldn’t have thought about doing the former. No, my lovely lady was merely caught off guard. Perhaps questioning to herself the very definition of sex (ironically, as she had so dismissed about Amy previously). I did question as whether the expectation was fair -- should we instead just let each other know of the decision to fuck another? Is that more reasonable for informed consent? Would it not be better to assume so, and take any needed precautions therein? I still felt it’s not the same. The opportunity to ask and see someone’s response to questions about the safety practices mattered. Beyond the safety reassurances, there were also the emotional reassurances that came with adding a new partner to any mix. These needs were real, and I felt they were very valid.

Would it have changed anything I did that evening? Not really. Perhaps some more talking, perhaps some more support in case either of us needed it as well. We had already had a dry run on the conversation. But emotionally, it was a threshold being crossed, and like any fear, it dissipates once you cross it and find that the world is still ok. Fact is, I didn’t need her to tell me they were going to be intimate. I knew she had decided as much, perhaps before she did. I hadn’t been a good read on other people she’s dated, but the signs were still there: weaning herself off the little cute reminders of my scent. The off cycle STI screening. Eventually, the more obvious sharing of Duane’s STI status. Those were the obvious signs, but there was also that fact that she had done everything right about being supportive and communicative, until now.

Not disclosing bothered me, but the dance afterward was worse. It was a deviation from the expectations that she didn’t see or at least showed herself willing to walk back, dance around rather than admit. Did she really not see an issue? Was it a communication mistake? It seemed unlikely. She had been so hard on Amy for putting us all at risk, for not calling recieviing cunnilingis and giving a hand job sex, for not keeping track of where and when her semen exposure had been, for not sharing immediately that there was a concern until I asked afterward. I wondered if she would look back and find more forgiveness for Amy. Yes, Amy exposed us to some risk, and Z is very risk averse. But statistically speaking, Amy’s breaches were always unlikely to introduce physical harm to us --if not because of the kinds of sex then precisely because I knew what happened before we reconnected sexually and immediately decided to use condoms until Amy passed tests. It was this kind disclosure that had kept Z and I safe. No, Amy’s biggest breach of trust was emotional. Even if Z’s breach was much more minor in that it didn’t put anyone’s physical safety at risk, Z still had a tinge of Amy’s “did it count” and her own emotional need for privacy competing with a stated expectation for safety: physical and emotional.

Yet, deep down, it didn’t bother me. I could see her perspective. I could see her struggle with it. I could see the incongruity and impossibility as clearly as the rationality and the action. I could do that grown up mental act of holding multiple conflicting thoughts at a time, and seeing a mistake. This was still the reality of executing poly -- no one does it perfect, no one ever will. I knew that. I knew it about me. I knew it about Amy. And, tonight more than before, I knew it about Z.

What I really wanted was for Z to have forgiveness for Amy. When people are worth the effort, you turn the page. Only then do you find out if there is more their story. Amy’s mistake had been a chapter, November Rain I called it. Tonight, I wanted only to have found it’s close.

By midnight we were somewhat past this entire conversation, some 2.5 hours later. By about 12:30 we're making love. Deliberate, connected, deep, wet, it's eventually the kind of baseline amazing sex we typically have, tinged with the emotions of the past 3 hours. Starting with a lot of teasing, because she asks for it. I'm tempted to keep pushing her edge through the fingering, and rubbing of her labia, and changes in pressures and waves of my fingers, but soon she's too sensitive, and she asks me to actually fuck her. Eventually I do. I don't know if she cums, I know she gets close several times. I don't even know if she could, given everything that emotionally has transpired. Eventually, I do, and fall asleep within moments. But only after rubbing my cum into her skin, then wiping away our cum and sweat mixture, before curling up by her side.

This was my other explicit need: to reconnect. To know that we could still be amazing no matter what she has shared with another.

I sleep barely 3 hours before I awake, face soaking in all of our scent, still rich in the post-coital bouquet. I'm rock hard and find my way to nuzzle by her side. In minutes we're spooning into sex again. Then sleep for another couple of hours before I'm again aroused, eat her pussy, then her ass, then flip her around and fuck her -- her face down in the pillow, and my cock gliding around and into her pussy. She's a bit less turned on this round. I can't blame her. But I'm still mad with desire at our smells, licking my lips at her tastes, burying my face in her neck nipping at the pulse of her neck. I pull out and in the now daylight I can see my cock, pressed between her ass cheeks, taking the last sensations on my shaft’s inches, and sending a full load up and across her back. Arching and splashing with the remains of the forward energy. A ribbon in the sky as Stevie Wonder would say (yup, thats my theory about that song). I could jam that cock back inside her again, it’s still that hard, but I know she's spent and I doubt I would finish before lunch. So instead I nose dive into another spoon and hold her tight.

It feels a bit awkward in the morning when we finally wake up and get out of bed. Last night was hard. My desire had robbed her of much sleep. And I'm not staying for breakfast today. I ask if she’s ok for breakfast. I quickly fix the squeak in the front door, kiss her, let her know I could devour her like that all day and night, that I love her, and to say hi to Duane for me.

#polyamory #diary #z #duane #amy #mistakes #november rain

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piscesbag21-blog · 5 years

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If She Cheats, Should You Absolutely Let Her Go?

The Dating Nerd is a shadowy figure whose whereabouts and identifying details remain unknown. What we do know is that he is really, really good at dating. He’s been on more dates than you can shake a lengthy bar tab at, and he’s here to help the average guy step his dating game up a notch — or several.

The Question

Hi Dating Nerd,

I had a tough conversation recently. My girlfriend admitted she cheated on me one time with an old friend of hers a few months ago. I broke things off immediately, but we kept on talking about it and the whole time she's been asking me to take her back and give things another shot. She's adamant she'll never do it again, but I don't know what to believe. What do I do?

- Cheat Confused

The Answer

Hi CC,

No. Do not take her back.

I know this is hard to hear. Because she must be amazing — or must seem amazing, anyway — if you're considering this question at all. If she was a reasonably attractive, moderately interesting person, this wouldn't be an issue whatsoever. You'd just tell her to eff off, feel a very mild pain, make some regrettable sexual decisions, and continue living your life.

But this girl is different, for whatever reason. You just don't want to let her go, even though you feel terrifically humiliated, and your mind is filled with images of how, exactly, you would murder the dude in question (I'd go with suffocation by Silly String). Probably, there's a peculiar way she smiles at you that makes you forget that being alive was ever difficult. She probably knows how you like your coffee and she brings it to you every morning. You have so many little in-jokes and routines that you don't know how you would communicate with anyone else.

And she assures you that she's still that person — that this was just a one-time thing, a mistake. She swears, sincerely, that she didn't really want to cheat on you. The deception is temporary. It's not who she is, deep down. Maybe she used the classic phrase so often deployed in discussions of cheating, which is, "it just happened."

Unfortunately, that's not a real thing. That's not how cheating works. In fact, it's exactly backwards.

The truth about cheating is that we all want to do it, on some level, almost all the time, and we don't cheat by deciding not to, every single day.

Think about it. How many times, per day, do you mentally sort people into the categories of 'would touch naked' and 'would not touch naked'? It's probably a high number, unless you're an asexual living on an iceberg. (Respect to my arctic asexual readership.) Even if you know it's stupid, you can't help but wonder whether your neighbor is secretly your dream girl, even though you've never spoken — something about the way she styles her hair makes it seem like she'd really, like, understand you, right? Our minds have a really annoying way of constantly wondering whether there might be a better deal out there.

And there are much more serious manifestations of this tendency that I'm sure you know all about, as well. Like, chances are, there are between one and three women in your life who you just Don't Hang Out With. That pretty person you get along with just a little too well. Your attractive co-worker who always complains about how there aren't any interesting single men, right after lavishly complimenting your new haircut. Or your ex from far back enough that you can't remember why you ever broke up, whose new profile picture makes you breathe heavily.

Every day, you look in the mirror and you say, "Today I'm not going to hook up with any of those people." Congratulations! You're a good guy. Someone should give you a prize. You're really behaving tremendously well. Remember when that co-worker invited you out for beers, and you hesitated — she just seems like a total freak in the best way — but you said no? That was great! And when that ex started sending you funny Facebook messages late at night, but you shut it down? Bravo.

You avoided danger. You saw what was coming, and you said no. Even though there are days when your girlfriend is irritating the hell out of you, you keep it together. You realize that the short-term gratification of random female attention is less rewarding than sharing your world with somebody.

Like it or not, your girlfriend faces the same dilemma. She has the same temptations. That Junior VP in her office with a closet full of sharp bespoke suits and a beguiling sarcasm? She's thought about that, for sure. She sees hot guys coming and going, and briefly questions her commitment to monogamy. But, unlike you, she said "yes" to that very tempting train of thought. Whatever the circumstance was in which she met this guy, she knew she was tempting fate, and she did it anyway.

Again, I know it's hard to hear, but it's simply realistic to say that there were a million tiny moments of decision between the moment when she kissed you goodbye and she kissed that guy hello. At every step, she knew she was getting closer and closer to cheating on you. And, at each step, she was like, "Yeah, OK, that seems like a reasonable decision." She was like, "I'm going to wear this sexy outfit when I meet up with this random male friend, just because I like wearing sexy outfits, because that's totally normal." She was like, "I thought we were just getting coffee, but, really, what's the harm in a drink or two."

Maybe she never thought, "Oh boy, time to cheat on my perfect boyfriend." She just found this dude's attention flattering, and she found the whole thing exciting. So she ignored the voice of reason in her head — which was almost certainly there — telling her that this was a bad idea.

You may want to believe that this was her one moment of infidelity. And that's vaguely possible. But thrill-seeking, unconscientious people tend to remain that way. She'll see other guys, and feel the intoxication of flattery, and she'll probably be at least strongly tempted to screw you over again. She's just a human, unfortunately, and humans tend to change their behavior only when it's absolutely, totally necessary.

RELATED: Has She Slowly Been Losing Interest? Here's What Might Be Up

And, by the way, if you don't let her go, you won't tell her that it's absolutely necessary to change her behavior. You're telling her that if she cries, and says she regrets it, and reminds you of what you shared back when the relationship wasn't a 30-car pileup, you'll forgive her. That probably won't make her change. She might change someday, but unfortunately you can't control the circumstances that will bring that about.

This is going to be a hard talk. She'll probably tell you that she still loves you, over and over again, that she loves you more than ever. That may be true. But do you really need that kind of love?

Think you could use some dating help, too? Email the Dating Nerd at [email protected].

Source: https://www.askmen.com/dating/doclove_60/65_relationship_expert.html

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psychotherapyconsultants · 5 years

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What’s an Affair? Defining Infidelity

Six women are seated around a living room table sipping merlot when the topic of infidelity surfaces. Each one has a different definition of cheating.

“Infidelity begins when you overtly flirt with someone,” says the first.

“I think cheating happens when you kiss … with tongue,” another chimes in.

“What about an affair?” a third asks. “What qualifies as one?”

“Sex,” two of them say out loud.

“Just intercourse or does oral sex count?” another asks.

Rethinking Infidelity

This conversation represents the confusion associated with the word affair. I used to reserve the term only for relationships that passed the boundary into sexual intercourse, but that changed after watching a Ted Talk by affair expert Esther Perel called “Rethinking Infidelity: A Talk for Anyone Who Has Ever Loved.”

“Infidelity,” she explains, “includes one or more of these three constitutive elements: secrecy, sexual alchemy, and emotional involvement.” Perel expounds on the three elements in her bestselling book, The State of Affairs.

The Seduction of Secrecy

“Secrecy,” she writes, “is the number one organizing principle of infidelity. An affair always lives in the shadow of the primary relationship hoping never to be discovered. The secrecy is precisely what intensifies the relationship.” Secrecy can be an indirect and albeit dangerous way of securing autonomy and control.

Affairs are a space where a person feels as though he or she can define the rules, according to Perel. The forbidden relationship provides a false sense of empowerment that is intoxicating.

Replacing Sex with Eroticism

Sexual alchemy is the term that Perel uses in place of sex, because she prefers a definition of sexuality that is more expansive, one that encompasses more than sexual acts. Sexual alchemy includes “a broader understanding of the erotic mind, body, and energy.” According to Perel, “affairs sometimes involve sex and sometimes not, but they are always erotic.”

Based on her work with countless couples, she asserts that affairs are often less about sex than about desire … “the desire to feel desired, to feel special, to be seen and connected, to compel attention. All these carry an erotic frisson that makes us feel alive, renewed, recharged. It is more energy than act, more enchantment than intercourse.”

Where does cheating begin?

This is a thorny issue that goes back to the debate among the six women. If we judge an affair by the level of eroticism, it’s possible that an imaginary kiss could be more exciting than hours of intercourse. Does that, then, mean our sexual fantasies make us cheaters? According to Perel, couples must define that for themselves. She writes, “Even if we agree to widen the lens to include a variety of sexual expressions, we may still disagree about what they mean and where they belong… Every couple has to negotiate each other’s erotic independence as part of the larger conversation about our individuality and our connection.”

That’s not a green light to experience eroticism however we want. There has to be a level of transparency in our relationships. Committing to brutal honesty within a partnership can protect us, to a certain degree, from betrayal.

Emotional Connection

Finally, all affairs involve varying degrees of emotional connection. Forbidden love stories like the ones depicted in The English Patient and The Bridges of Madison County involve a kind of awakening or transcendence, a coming to life that feels pure or destined by fate. Other connections are less intense, but still involve an emotional bond that is invigorating and comforting.

What’s the greater betrayal?

Consider two scenarios. In the first, your partner has too many cocktails at a company happy hour and ends up sleeping with his co-worker. He assures you it was a one-night stand that didn’t mean anything. In the second, he has developed a strong emotional attachment to his co-worker, but has not been physical in any way. Which is the greater betrayal?

Although this question has been debated over and over again, it is still fraught with questions and curiosities. Perel explains:

Our individual sensitivities are idiosyncratic. Some people aren’t bothered by emotional attachments to others, so long as they keep their hands to themselves. Others don’t see sex as a big deal and give each other freedom to play—as long as there are no feelings involved. They call it “emotional monogamy.” For most of us, sex and emotions are difficult to untangle. You can have a lot of each, more of one, or more the other, but they are usually both at play in the adulterous sandbox.

In other words, she says, our definitions of infidelity are shaped by our individual beliefs and by the stories we tell ourselves. Undoubtedly our beliefs and stories change over time.

A Complicated Matter

That’s certainly true for me. For much of my life, I approached the topic of infidelity with my typical Vatican, black-and-white thinking: kissing and all forms of sex outside a marriage are deadly sins. However, seeing good people stray from their marriages has expanded my view and extended some compassion, not only to the betrayed but also to the betrayer. I now see affairs as a much more complicated matter, as a behavior sometimes driven by unresolved pain and trauma rather than actions intended to hurt a spouse. Not only are the reasons behind cheating muddied, so too are the categories of infidelity.

So what is an affair?

I agree with Perel that each couple has to define for themselves what consists of one and what doesn’t. It’s true, too, that complete transparency between two committed partners can both protect them from betrayal and heal the rupture caused by infidelity.

What do you think? What constitutes an affair?

from World of Psychology https://psychcentral.com/blog/whats-an-affair-defining-infidelity/

#World of Psychology

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positivepsychologyinterventions · 5 years

Text

What’s an Affair? Defining Infidelity

Six women are seated around a living room table sipping merlot when the topic of infidelity surfaces. Each one has a different definition of cheating.

“Infidelity begins when you overtly flirt with someone,” says the first.

“I think cheating happens when you kiss … with tongue,” another chimes in.

“What about an affair?” a third asks. “What qualifies as one?”

“Sex,” two of them say out loud.

“Just intercourse or does oral sex count?” another asks.

Rethinking Infidelity

The Seduction of Secrecy

Affairs are a space where a person feels as though he or she can define the rules, according to Perel. The forbidden relationship provides a false sense of empowerment that is intoxicating.

Replacing Sex with Eroticism

Where does cheating begin?

Emotional Connection

What’s the greater betrayal?

Although this question has been debated over and over again, it is still fraught with questions and curiosities. Perel explains:

In other words, she says, our definitions of infidelity are shaped by our individual beliefs and by the stories we tell ourselves. Undoubtedly our beliefs and stories change over time.

A Complicated Matter

So what is an affair?

What do you think? What constitutes an affair?

from World of Psychology https://ift.tt/2NIMM9u via IFTTT

#IFTTT #World of Psychology

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fashiontrendin-blog · 6 years

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Why are People So Threatened by Open Relationships?

http://fashion-trendin.com/why-are-people-so-threatened-by-open-relationships/

Why are People So Threatened by Open Relationships?

got married recently. The wedding was, if I may say so myself, almost criminally perfect. There was very good wine and everyone cried. I spoke about luck in my vows — the luck that webbed its way between us, that brought us to the same place at the same time — but I could, I suppose, have also been talking about the luck that allows us to speak freely about our love, to express it in a way that raises few eyebrows. We are a monogamous, heterosexual couple, and despite our racial differences (my husband is Indian, and I am a ghost), our relationship looks and feels like one that mainstream society can easily understand.

There was another lovely wedding I attended a few years back. Electric blue fish darted around glass bowls on each table, and both my friend and her soon-to-be husband were surrounded by their loved ones — loved ones that included their secondary and tertiary partners. Theirs is a mostly closeted, consensually non-monogamous relationship, each of them engaging in at least one, often many, romantic and sexual relationships alongside their own. They now have a beautiful baby who recently learned how to eat broccoli one tiny flower at a time.

We’re both ordinary and in love, my friend and I, but I get to talk about my love more freely than she does, and when I tried to explain their arrangement to another friend, that friend (also married, generally very loving and accepting) protested the very idea of non-monogamy so violently that she burst into tears.

All of this is to say that romantic love is wild and varied and looks very different to different people, but consensual non-monogamy — a relationship in which one or both partners carry on other romantic and/or sexual relationships with the full knowledge and consent of the primary partner — remains a marginalized and stigmatized form of love, filed away by many as an incomprehensible kink, disrupting mainstream society’s understanding of what a loving relationship should look like.

While exact numbers are difficult to pin down (especially since many are hesitant to reveal their relationship status), researchers estimate that “4-5 percent of Americans participate in some form of ethical non-monogamy” — and those numbers are growing. Yet two recent studies revealed that the majority of Americans view non-monogamous relationships significantly worse than monogamous ones when it comes to trust, intimacy, respect, honesty and closeness; another showed that consensually non-monogamous relationships (CNMs) were perceived as “dirty” and “immoral.” It seems an odd hill to die on when you consider that a survey of 70,000 Americans found that one in five had cheated on his or her current partner. Monogamy is somehow both a necessary virtue and one that many people struggle to uphold; remove it from the equation entirely, however, and the relationship gets tagged as obscene. So why is society so threatened by non-monogamy?

“These days, if you have two temporary relationships sequentially, you are normal. If you have two permanent relationships simultaneously, you are a ‘degenerate, herpes-infested whore.’” Those are the words of philosopher Carrie Jenkins, who has written openly about her polyamorous marriage. She’s become accustomed, if not inured to, the abuse lobbed at her, her husband and her boyfriend. In her book What Love Is: And What it Could Be, she investigates the shifting nature of romantic love and the various arguments for and against monogamy.

“Non-monogamous love,” she writes, “poses distinctive destabilizing risks that strike directly at the heart of romantic love’s social function.” Many of us are incapable of conceiving of a model of love that so assertively deviates from that which places the nuclear family at its center; this makes poly love, according to surveys, the subject of more vitriol than same-sex or interracial marriage.

Dr. Sharon Glassburn, a family and marriage therapist in Chicago, believes some of her poly clients are “more stigmatized and closeted” than some of her gay and lesbian clients. “These relationships smash apart false securities and binaries,” she says — the societal rules we depend on to create a structure in which we can feel secure.

For Laura, 34, getting involved with a married man in a CNM meant confronting her friends’ attitudes. “The people who were usually rooting for me and checking in about my relationship status were suddenly absent,” she told me. “My married friends, who love living vicariously through my single girl life, were completely silent. When we did talk about it, they just seemed very confused, projecting their own understandings and arrangements around fidelity onto the situation. There was a lot of, ‘I just can’t understand how that would work,’ or ‘I would never want something like that.’” Laura’s own reservations lessened dramatically when she met her partner’s wife.

“It was clear to me how much his wife’s opinion of me mattered to him,” she says. “We met for a drink near their house, and afterward she gushed about how much she liked me. I could see the change in him immediately. He was almost giddy. He became much more sweet and excited about our relationship. It was almost as if her approval made him like me even more.” This openness, and the clear respect he had for his wife, brought him and Laura closer.

Their meeting also refuted what Laura’s friends had been telling her — that this dude was clearly lying about his wife’s feelings; that he had been the one to instigate opening the relationship; that his wife was “the long-suffering one, alone and insecure.” In Susan Dominus’ lengthy 2017 New York Times piece on CNM, only six of the 25 heterosexual couples she interviewed were opened up at the man’s suggestion, and, in general, the women were more sexually active outside the relationship. This is supported by a 2012 study of 4,062 poly-identifying individuals: 49.5 percent of respondents identified as female, and 35.4 percent identified as male (the remaining 15.1 percent either declined to choose or wrote in other genders).

The fact that more women appear to be both the instigators of and the more active participants in CNM is counter to traditional beliefs about gender divisions, an understanding that has itself been shaped by centuries of conditioning about the position of women as child-bearers and homemakers. Esther Perel’s work draws on studies that demonstrate that women are not, in fact, biologically conditioned for monogamy: They are much more likely than men to experience a loss of sexual desire in long-term relationships and are more aroused by novelty than men. And while the historical conception of polyamory tends to be that of a polygamous structure in which men are religiously or culturally empowered to take multiple wives (leading many to feel that poly relationships privilege men), many of the earliest proponents of contemporary non-monogamy (such as philosopher Bertrand Russell) believed CNM would destabilize traditional patriarchal relationships, which he believed were created to give men reproductive control over women.

Erica and her partner were monogamous for eight years before she began dating another woman. She had been clear with him since the beginning about her queer identity, and “it was always on the table that I might feel the need to explore that someday in the future.” His ability to accept that possibility, she says, was one of the reasons she felt comfortable choosing him as a partner.

“I tried very hard to accept the societal standard of ‘mating for life,’” she tells me, “and it caused me a lot of stress. Investigating the religious and biological background of the idea made me feel even more like it was not what I wanted. Unlearning the unfair ideals that society sets up for women and the ideas about love that are taught to us from birth is a huge challenge, one that I am constantly working towards.”

Their marriage has evolved since they embraced nonmonogamy. “I think we both feel a lot more independent and able to express our needs in respectful ways. It has become more important to see each other as individual people, rather than place expectations on each other as romantic partners,” she says. “He has other partners, romantic and sexual, and tends to have involved relationships with women that last a long time. I have found that I am more of a free spirit. This has allowed me to really strengthen some of the other types of relationships in my life and explore new ways to connect with people outside of the realm of what is considered dating. Our intent has always been to make strong personal connections and have more loving relationships with people. If sexual connections happen, great, but it’s not the main goal.”

And while they have been open with their friends and family about their relationship dynamic, they’ve faced skepticism. “My family’s reaction was somewhere along the lines of ‘don’t ask, don’t tell,’ though they made sure to let me know that this did not align with their religious beliefs,” she says. “Some of my husband’s male friends reacted with a sort of, ‘Hey, now you get to sleep with whoever you want!’ kind of attitude, which is really not what he wanted from this change at all.”

Erica and her husband are, for the time being, “platonic partners,” no longer sexually involved with each other. She’s unequivocal in her belief that an open marriage was the right decision. “It makes me very happy to see my partner grow as a person, be better able to express himself and to feel more confident. I feel like I have also grown and become happier, and learned a lot about myself. The duality of having your own independent self-worth, and also the ability and freedom to explore your own needs and desires in turn, gives you a sense of security that I think a lot of monogamous couples lack.”

So what’s so scary about that?

“I think it comes down largely to the science of human attachment,” says Dr. Sharon Glassburn. Romantic bonds — their inherent vulnerabilities and the intensity of emotion they involve — draw on primal feelings of safety and trust, and yet the structures society has created to shore those up (monogamy, marriage) are neither biologically- nor historically-informed. “Permanent monogamy” is unique to both our species and our cultural moment. Additionally, says Sharon, most people don’t make it through their 20s or 30s without encountering infidelity, either by experiencing it themselves or watching it destroy other relationships. “The idea of non-monogamy summons a very visceral and protective response, not to mention a PTSD response if prior infidelities were in the equation,” she says. “These protective or trauma responses put us in our ‘lizard brains’” and make imagining a relationship structure in which our partner doesn’t solely belong to us entirely difficult and frightening.

“Nearly everyone has feelings for other people,” says Sharon, “but an open or non-monogamous structure brings repressed or suppressed feelings up that some folks would rather compartmentalize.”

Erica agrees: “I think jealousy comes from fear and insecurity, and people would rather project that onto others than face what they are really afraid of.” In fact, studies have found that people in CNM relationships experience lower jealousy, higher trust and higher sexual satisfaction with their partners. Which is not to say that non-monogamy is for everyone, but rather that those who have found it right for them have found something very good indeed.

Interrogate each of the arguments against CNM (the high rates of infidelity and divorce in monogamous couples; the research demonstrating a wide-ranging social community leads to greater happiness and a longer life; the fact that a collective approach to child-rearing has historically been the primary model of family-building) and it begins to seem as if a fear-based moralizing is at the heart of why those committed to the current model of monogamy are so bewildered by or opposed to poly relationships. But if “love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love” — why not be greedy for more of it? After all, no one can reasonably argue that having more than one friend diminishes the love you’re capable of giving each. Why can’t the same be applied to relationships?

The truth is, partnership is tenuous, and the current prevailing model was constructed only after thousands of years of different examples, most completely unrelated to a modern understanding of Western marriage, and which for a long time excluded interracial and queer couples. My in-laws, together over 45 years, were brought together by their families in an arranged marriage, and their version of partnership, love and happiness is very different than my own. They have raised two children and still hold hands when walking over uneven terrain; who’s to say their love is less than mine or yours? Who’s to say that any love isn’t worthy of awe?

When my now-husband and I were in our early days, I told him I’d been cheated on in the past and that infidelity was, for me, a deal-breaker. While I have no desire to bring non-monogamy into our marriage as it is now (after 5+ years of online dating, I want only one man, one contractually obligated to listen to my weird dreams), I want, above all else, a marriage that thrives on honesty. And to me, being honest requires acknowledging the very real possibility that at some point in our (hopefully long) life together, one of us will want something that the other person can’t give. When that happens, I told him, I want there to be a window, not a door: a space through which we can look, together, at another shape our relationship could assume. Accepting that possibility means being excited about, and not threatened by, the mutability of love, its expansiveness and strength.

Illustrations by Cynthia Merhej.

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