camping in your askbox again ♫ for ... anthony and adam <3

↻  ◁  II  ▷  ↺      ♫    𝚗𝚘𝚠    𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐    ...  adam  &  anthony's  infinite  playlist  !

###  001  .  valentine  𝒃𝒚  laufey  !  

i've  lost  all  control  of  my  heartbeat  now, got  caught  in  a  romance  with  him  somehow  — i  still  feel  a  shock  through  every  bone when  i  hear  an  "i  love  you" 'cause  now  i've  got  someone  to  lose

###  002  .  like  real  people  do  𝒃𝒚  hozier  !  

honey,  just  put  your  sweet  lips  on  my  lips  — we  should  just  kiss  like  real  people  do

###  003  .  about  you  𝒃𝒚  the  1975  !

and  i  miss  you  on  a  train,  i  miss  you  in  the  morning i  never  know  what  to  think  about  — i  think  about  you  (  so  don't  let  go  )  

###  004  .  i  know  you  know  i  love  you  𝒃𝒚  sunset  rollercoaster  !

just  want  you  to  know you're  my  sunshine  in  the  sky

###  005  .  sundays  𝒃𝒚  fkj  !

at  the  airport  when  they  first  met:  "what  are  you  listening  to  ?"

goldilocks (reid/reader)

Title: Goldilocks Request: no Couple: spencer reid/gen-neutral!reader; spencer reid/ethan; spencer reid/lila archer Category: fluff Content Warning: bi!spencer, kissing/making out, Word Count: 2,102 Summary: spencer recounts all his first kisses A/N: thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

When Spencer was 12, he had his first kiss. He was with his only friend, Ethan, in his backyard. They were playing cowboys versus pirates- Spencer being the cowboy rightfully so. Whenever Ethan was over Spencer knew he could be himself, he didn’t have to worry about his mother, or school bullies, or anything else. Ethan was his safe space. Ethan knew that, too.

It was nearing dusk. Ethan was up in a tree, pretending it was the crow’s nest of his pirate ship. Spencer was on the ground, dressed like a cowboy, complete with the lasso and cowboy hat. Their play fight would soon come to an end, and they would have to go in for the night. The two friends knew that their fight would come to an end like it usually does. With Ethan winning and Spencer losing.

Ethan had jumped from the tree, landing beside Spencer before tackling him to the ground. Spencer looked up at his friend, trying to fight him off his body. It was obvious that the smaller of the two boys would lose a fight. The smaller boy knew that too. Although maybe he wanted to lose to Ethan.

“What are you doing?!” Spencer said through giggles. Ethan returned the giggles as he pinned Spencer’s hands to the ground above his head. Ethan looked down at his friend, a smirk growing across his lips the longer he stared at him.

“I won,” Ethan whispered as he lowered closer to Spencer’s face.

Spencer’s eyes widened as he looked at his friend. The young boy knew for a long time that he had a crush on his friend. He’s never acted on his feelings before. The thought passed his mind many times, but he didn’t want to risk losing his only friend.

Until that day. Until the day he and Ethan were playing pirates and cowboys, when he knew the cowboys had really lost (for the hundredth time too). When Ethan still had Spencer pinned to the ground and he was rubbing it in his face that he had won. It was then did he realize he wanted to kiss Ethan. It was something he wanted, a curiosity that would kill him if he didn’t just do it. And it was a risk, a calculated one, but he knew he wanted to take it.

When Ethan had gotten low enough, Spencer lifted his head and quickly pecked his lips to Ethan’s. After the briefest moment, Spencer dropped his head back to the ground and stared up at his friend.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and looked away when he realized he might’ve messed up. “I was… I was just curious. That’s all.”

“You were just curious?” Ethan asked as he crawled off his friend and sat on the ground beside him. Spencer slowly sat up and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah. J-Just curious.”

Unfortunately, this kiss with Ethan was too soft. But Spencer was too young to know that. He’d learn one day that even though he had the smallest crush on Ethan, that they’d be better off as best friends than anything else.

{***}{***}{***}

When Spencer was 24, he had his second kiss. It was with Hollywood star Lila Archer. He was working a case, and protecting Lila from a possible stalker she had. The two were outside, Spencer was watching Lila swim in her pool. Spencer was very adamant about Lila getting out of the pool, so they could be in the safety of her home. But Lila wasn’t having any of it.

“Five minutes,” Lila begged as she swam up to the edge of the pool. Spencer was standing close, watching her with a worried crease in his brow. “Go get a suit in the house!” She nodded towards the open sliding doors of her home. Spencer looked over at her house and then quickly back at her with a scowl.

“What?! No! I don’t wanna grab a suit! Are you kidding me?!” Spencer shouted, his voice cracking out of annoyance. “Please let’s just go in.”

“Join me,” she pressed as she looked up at him. For a small moment, Spencer considered it. But it wasn’t long enough for him to actually go inside and change.

“No, I'm not gonna join you,” Spencer eventually said. Lila rolled her eyes before pouting.

“Why not?”

“You're being pursued by a psychotic killer who shoots people in the head!” Spencer shouted, again, his voice cracking, again. Lila pushed off the wall of the pool and floated on her back, away from Spencer.

“I'm not gonna stop living my life. I'm just not,” she stated firmly as she closed her eyes. Spencer stared at the woman in the pool, shock growing across his face. Any normal person would be scared, hiding for their lives when they hear that there’s a psychotic killer after them.

“This woman is insane,” Spencer thought the longer he stared at her. Although he was extremely cautious about his surroundings and who was around, he could feel a strange carelessness grow in his stomach.

“Lila, please, I'm begging of you. Will you please get out of the pool?” Spencer pleaded as he squatted down to the pool.

“Really, Spence, you should live a little.”

“Live a little? I've known you 48 hours, I feel like I've already aged 10 years.”

“I can't be that bad,” Lila mused as she swam back to the edge of the pool.

“Yes. no, you are that bad,” Spencer said as he stood back up.

“Fine, can you help me out at least?” Lila asked as she lifted a hand up to Spencer. Spencer stared at her hand for a moment before grabbing it. As he went to help her out, Lila pulled on Spencer’s hand, pulling him right into the pool.

Lila was instantly thrown into a fit of laughter as Spencer re-emerged from the water. He glared over at the girl as he pushed his hair away from his face.

“Yes, very funny. Laugh it up, Lila. Hilarious. My gun's wet. So great. My clothes,” Spencer’s tone was very clearly annoyed with what just happened.

‘I should have seen that coming,’ Spencer thought to himself as he looked at the woman. She smiled as she swam closer to him.

“You should have worn the suit,” Lila giggled as she grabbed Spencer’s tie and pulled him closer to her. Spencer swam closer to her, allowing her to pull him as close to her. She brought her hand to rest on the nape of his neck. And when he was close enough, she pressed her lips to his, quickly deepening it.

Spencer ended it just as fast as Lila started it.

“This is completely inappropriate,” Spencer said as he swam away, leaving Lila behind.

Spencer found a certain attractiveness in Lila, he wouldn’t lie about that. The moment wasn’t right. Would there ever be a right moment between Spencer Reid and Lila Archer? The pair had two wildly different career paths, and two wildly different lifestyles… There would never be a right moment for the two.

Even though Spencer enjoyed this kiss with Lila, it was too rough. It was very heated, and a moment of intense feelings. He began to wonder when he’d find the person who would give him the best kisses, and how long he’d have to wait for that moment.

{***}{***}{***}

When Spencer was 34, he found the person who gave the best kisses. There was more than one factor for why Spencer loved this person, their kisses were just a bonus. Like with Ethan, this person was Spencer’s safe space. He could be himself and not worry about anything. And like with Lila Archer, this person made Spencer feel free and near careless.

His first kiss with this person was… gentle, and sweet. Unlike with Ethan, this kiss wasn’t a quick peck to the lips. It wasn’t out of pure curiosity. Unlike with Lila, it wasn’t rushed and heated. It wasn’t because they wanted it. It was because they both wanted it.

It wasn’t their first date, not even their sixth date. In fact, they weren’t even on a date. Spencer had invited the BAU team over to his house to meet this person. The team had been excited to meet them since Spencer first spoke about his person. And after the team left, it was just Spencer and his person. Their first kiss just happened. They weren’t expecting it.

They were sitting on the couch, a movie playing- though neither of them were watching it. The couple was too busy talking about cleaning up the mess their dinner party had left behind, and when a good time to clean it would be.

“Do you want me to get ants? Because this is how I get ants,” Spencer said as he gestured towards the coffee table and the several plates and cups that occupied it. His person laughed before moving even closer to him. Even though they were already pretty close to cuddling, his person wanted to be even closer to him. “But what’s stopping us from taking care of the mess in the morning?” they asked as they looked up at Spencer. He sighed before looking back at his person. “I’m just saying, Spencer,” they whispered before shifting to his lap. Spencer’s eyes met theirs, and a small smile grew across his lips.

“Okay, okay, we can take care of it in the morning. If I get ants though I’m blaming you,” he laughed as he wrapped his arms around his person’s waist.

“I’ll take full responsibility!” they shouted, jumping and nearly falling backwards off his legs. Spencer laughed before pulling them closer to safety. Instead of falling off his legs, his person fell closer to him. “I’ll clean up first thing in the morning. Promise!” They wrapped their arms around Spencer’s neck.

“So now you’re spending the night?” Spencer raised an eyebrow as he looked back at them. They smiled before nodding lightly. The couple drifted closer together.

“If that’s okay. If not, I can go home after the movie is over,” they whispered before cocking their head to the side. Spencer looked at their eyes before glancing at their lips for a brief moment.

“It’d be the first time you spend the night here.”

“I don’t have an issue with that,” they shook their head and smiled. “Only if you don’t have an issue.” It was his person’s turn to look between his eyes and lips. They both wanted to kiss each other, but were both afraid. Spencer knew his person wanted to kiss him. And his person knew he wanted to kiss them.

“No issue here,” Spencer replied, although he wasn’t sure if it was a response to them spending the night, or giving them permission to kiss him. But he replied...

“Good,” they whispered before pressing their lips to Spencer’s. He hummed before bringing his hands to their cheeks. It only took a moment before he deepened the kiss.

Spencer had never kissed a person like he kissed his person. He could feel a fire grow in his chest. His arms wrapped around their waist and he pulled them onto his lap.

It felt like ages before they broke apart. In that moment, all they wanted to do was just be with each other and be in each other's space. But they knew they couldn’t. There were still things they had to do before they went to bed.

“We… We should clean up,” Spencer whispered, just so the silence would go away. His person laughed before tumbling off his lap. His hand caught their’s, stopping them from going any further. They turned around and looked down at him.

His person admired how his cheeks were flushed, his hair was tousled just right, and his lips were still pink from being kissed raw. He had a slight dazed look in his eyes.

“I like it when you look like you kissed someone. I like it even more when I know I’m that someone you kissed,” his person whispered. Spencer laughed and nodded.

“I like it even more when you’re the person I kissed, too,” he whispered as he pulled them back down to his lap. “What’re you doing?”

“Going to clean, like you said.”

“We can clean in the morning.”

There was no curiosity with this kiss, and he wasn’t hesitant. Spencer knew, 100%, that he wanted this kiss. And he was happy that this kiss was perfect. Better than the kiss with Ethan. Better than the kiss with Lila.

Spencer was happy he’d be spending the rest of his life with his person.

if you have any comments/questions about this part, let me know here! please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you're a part of the taglist. it's so much work tagging everyone.

taglist: @thebluetint @mggsprettygirl @muffin-cup @misshale21 @spenciegoob @reidspoet @kuolonsyoja @broken-stardust @rainsong01 @beepboopboopbeep @babebenhardy @flipperpenguins @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @ash19871962 @samaraaaaa​

tags that didn’t work: @isabellasimps

Father and son go for a walk

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"Hold on to my hand tightly, okay Kiyoshi?" Sakusa looked at his son, bundled up in a fluffly jacket with a small bag strapped across his body,  who nodded excitedly. "Bye uncle!" Kiyoshi waved to the cameraman. He held on to Sakusa's hand as much as his little hand could. Sakusa did his best to walk in Kiyoshi's pace so that he won't get tired. Taking walks has been one of Sakusa's random past times for years now. The calm wind blowing in his face felt peaceful and it was also a good kind of exercise without much effort. He hoped that Kiyoshi would enjoy taking walks as much as he did. "Kiyoshi, do you want some candy?" At the mention of the sugary sweet, Kiyoshi squealed in delight. "Can I, papa? Won't mama get mad?" "She said you're allowed sweets from time to time so, yes. This is okay." Sakusa smiled at his son beneath his mask. You were really adamant on  giving Kiyoshi sweets in the first place but if it's one way of getting his son to like him, one piece of candy won't hurt. Kiyoshi's eyes sparkled in excitement and he walked faster this time, pulling his dad along with him to the nearest convenience store. When they were by the entrance, Kiyoshi let go of Sakusa's hand and tried opening the door himself. Sakusa made sure to spray his hand with the alcohol he brought after pulling the door open to let his son inside. Kiyoshi seemed to already know which candy he wants as he immediately went to the counters and did his best to reach the treat. "Papa, I want this one. Strawberry please." He was on his toes, pointing to the rows of candies. "Okay, but let me clean your hands first." Sakusa sprayed Kiyoshi's hands with alcohol as well and helped rubbed it in his small palms. He plucked a strawberry lollipop from the display and handed it to Kiyoshi. The small boy smiled widely before lifting the lollipop back to his dad. "Please open this for me, papa?" Sakusa smiled and did just that. He put the wrapper inside his pocket to throw away later. He went to one of the aisles and got himself a can of iced coffee. He went to the cashier and paid. While he was doing this, Kiyoshi silently followed him around the store. When Sakusa was done, he offered his hand to Kiyoshi and they headed back out again. They walked for a while before something caught Sakusa's eye in the distance. It was the local playground. Now, as much as possible, he didn't want Kiyoshi to be exposed to a lot of unsanitary things but he could hear your voice in the back of his head. "If you keep him inside, his immune system is going to be super sensitive to everything outside. Kiyoshi's age is vulnerable to getting sick but he needs some of those to build up his strength. I'm here if he ever does get sick, so, don't you worry, okay Omi-kun?" You had compromised with him that day---to let Kiyoshi play around outside for a bit then do the necessary sanitations when you get home. Sakusa was just about to counter that but he trusts you and he knows it himself that he will always be there to protect Kiyoshi no matter what happens. "Do you want to go to the playground?" Sakusa asked the boy.  Kiyoshi replied with a firm 'yes.' They walked for a few more minutes before they finally got to the playground. It wasn't that much crowded so far, with only about four kids playing around. "Guys!" Kiyoshi ran ahead of his father. "Let's have some candy!" He shouted to the kids on the playground. No one seemed to pay him any attention. He looked to the side and spotted a little girl playing on the rocking horse. He instantly approached her offering his lollipop. The little girl just stared at Kiyoshi up close. Kiyoshi flashed her his best smile. Sakusa stayed rooted in his spot---hands pocketed in his jacket---just by the sidewalk, enough to monitor Kiyoshi's whereabouts. "You're wearing a winter jacket." Kiyoshi told the girl. When she didn't respond, Kiyoshi continued. "Do you want some candy?" He held out his lollipop to her. "You can try it three times." She just alternated between staring at Kiyoshi and the lollipop but she didn't respond. Kiyoshi was about to tell her something when she spotted another kid---an older girl this time---and he walked up to her to offer his candy. "Do you want some?" The older girl smiled sheepishly before shaking her head from side to side. Feeling a little flustered, she walked away from Kiyoshi without another word. Kiyoshi looked around, confused as to why his friends don't want any candy. He shrugged the thought away and went to go up the slide. When he reached the top of the slides he jumped around in excitement. Some of the other kids passed by him which Kiyoshi didn't mind much. Seeing one of the older kids slide down, he decided try it out himself. This was actually his first time going down a slide this big. Sakusa worried by the sidelines, so he took a few steps closer just in case Kiyoshi gets scared. To his surprise, his son didn't even ask for help from him or any of the other children. Kiyoshi just sat on one of the slides and pushed off. Just as his feet touched the ground, Kiyoshi glanced at his papa and smiled widely. Sakusa smiled as well, giving him a thumbs up. One of the cameramen set up a small camera just by the end of the slide to capture Kiyoshi going down. The boy noticed and kicked the small gadget like it was  a ball. Sakusa was quick to retrieve it. "Kiyoshi." He looked at his dad. "You're not supposed to kick this, okay?" Kiyoshi thought that he was going to be scolded so, he just smiled cheekily at his father, hoping to get away with it. Just as Sakusa was about to remind him again, Kiyoshi's attention was already elsewhere. "Look! There's a dog!"  He ran up to the golden pomeranian whose owner was busy on a call. They passed through the playground which caught the attention of most of the children there. Sakusa shook his head, amused at Kiyoshi’s bravery. "I'm gonna catch you!" Kiyoshi squealed. The owner of the dog noticed the kids crowding up to her so she halted in her steps to let the kids play for a bit. Kiyoshi was the bravest of them all as he stood in front of the dog and started shouting at it. The dog just looked at Kiyoshi silently. He started barking at the dog as well. "Kiyoshi," Sakusa crouched beside him. He doesn't like dogs just because he thinks they're not clean and their fur makes him itch. But he knows that Kiyoshi is fond of dogs. As much as he wants his son to just ignore the small animal, he can't. "If you keep shouting, the dog will get angry. Try petting him." Kiyoshi cautiously neared the dog and placed his hands on its fur. He patted the dog who, to Sakusa's relief, stood still and didn't pounce on Kiyoshi. Soon the other kids followed suit and took turns patting the animal. "Do you want to play on the swing?" Sakusa held out his hand. "Yes!" Kiyoshi held on to his father as he let himself be guided towards the swing set. Sakusa felt relief wash over him because the more Kiyoshi brushed the pomeranian's fur, the more his spine tingled in anxiety. Before getting on the swings, he sprayed alcohol on Kiyoshi's hands which the little boy did't mind. Sakusa helped Kiyoshi on to the swing and pushed him lightly.  Kiyoshi wriggled his legs in excitement and cheered in delight. "Let's swing together!" Kiyoshi told the older girl he met earlier who was also on the other swing with her mother. The girl still ignored Kiyoshi with a blushing face. "Look at me!" "Excuse me," the mother interrupted. "Aren't you Sakusa Kiyoomi from the MSBY  Black Jackals?" Sakusa looked at the woman before nodding his head and mumbling a soft ‘yes.’ He felt a ittle bit embarassed about being recognized outside, especially in a playground with his son but he knows, with the number of games that the Jackals have been wining recently, they were bound to be recognized one way or another. "Me and my husband are huge fans." She gushed. Sakusa did his best to smile in acknowledgement beneath his mask. He bowed slightly to her and murmured a soft 'thank you.' "Your son is cute." Kiyoshi just watched this short interaction. He has never seen his father talk  with other people other than those who deliver food to their house sometimes, or his grandparents. He was amazed that his dad can make other people smile, like he does with him and you. "Papa, I want to stop now." Sakusa held the swing so that Kiyoshi could hop off. "Do you want to go on the slides with me?" He asked. Kiyoshi started wandering around the playground and forcing himself into the small groups that formed. He ignored his dad in favor of playing with the other kids. Sakusa was trying his best to gain Kiyoshi's favor but he was invisible as long as there were other kids around. So, he resumed his position by the playground entrance, still keeping an eye on his boy. Kiyoshi approached a group of older boys playing by the monkey bars. He asked them to play with them but the other boys just stared at him. They ignored Kiyoshi and went to the other side of the playground. Kiyoshi didn't give up though. He followed the boys wherever they went, still asking them to play with him. He wasn't successful with them so when he saw a older brother and a little sister pair just arriving, he quickly approached them. "Play with me!" Kiyoshi stated. The siblings just stared at him as well. Kiyoshi saw that they were holding hands so, he held out his. "Hold my hand too!" The older boy was hesitant, but he took his hand whilst holding his sister's in another. The trio walked around the playground before wandering off to the nearby park. Kiyoshi suddenly had an idea of looking for ants and beetles. When Sakusa heard this he wanted to take Kiyoshi home, but then he knows that his son will just hate him for not letting him play with his friends. So he did the only thing he could do---watch. He made sure that Kiyoshi wouldn't touch anything extraordinarily dirty or worse, put it in his mouth. The outside hittter shadowed over the three children as they picked up random sticks and dried leaves while stuffing them into a small hole the older boy dug up. Kiyoshi also pretended to bang on a wall so that 'the ants will turn into bees.' After a while they wandered around, with Kiyoshi leading the way, before getting lost. Good thing Sakusa was around and he pointed them back to the direction of the playground. But children were easily distracted. When they saw a tree, Kiyoshi suddenly stated that it was an ant kingdom that they needed to destroy. They started banging on the tree trunk with their sticks; their laughs echoing throughout the air. Sakusa found it amusing how vast a child's imagination can be. His phone started ringing inside his jean pocket. Walking a little bit farther to the side, he answered the call. "Miya." "Omi-omi, where are ya?" "Why do you need to know?" "There's an emergency team meeting." Atsumu stated. "I sent ya a text." "What's the problem?" Sakusa groaned. "Coach said something about the next match. There was a mix-up or something." Sakusa cursed under his breath. "Okay. I'll head there now." He hung up the phone and proceeded to call Kiyoshi's babysitter. You both had hired her for the times both you and Kiyoomi are called in for work. "Sakusa-san?" "Remi. I apologize for the sudden call. Are you able to take in Kiyoshi for a while? I just need to attend an emergency meeting at work." "I'm so sorry Sakusa-san, but I am meeting with relatives today." "I see. It's alright. Thank you." When he ended the call, he scrolled through his contacts list to see who could take Kiyoshi for just a few hours. He saw Komori's number and decided to dial it "Motoya." "Kiyoomi!" His cousin greeted cheerfully. "I need someone to look after Kiyoshi for just a few hours. I just have to attend an emergency meeting." "As much as I want to, I'm actually in Osaka right now. " "Aah." Sakusa suddenly ransacked his brain for other people he he can entrust Kiyoshi to. He remained silent before Komori interrupted him. "Why not just take Kiyoshi with you? He's an obedient kid. I'm sure he won't put you in any trouble." "And have him meet my chaotic teammates? No way." Komori laughed at  his cousin. Some things never do change. "Suit yourself." --- Sakusa hates how Komori was right. He couldn't find a last minute babysitter so he has no choice but to bring Kiyoshi with him. They returned home to clean themselves up a bit and fetch their car. Sakusa helped Kiyoshi to his car seat before they drove off to the Japan Volleyball Association Head Office. Kiyoshi fell asleep on the whole ride there. Just before entering the room where the whole team was, he knelt to Kiyoshi's height.  "Kiyoshi, I have to talk to some people about important things," Sakusa started, holding on to his son's hand, "You have to stay quiet, okay? You have to behave." Despite being very sociable, whenever you or Sakusa tell Kiyoshi beforehand that he needs to behave, he knows that it's something important and he doesn't want his parents to be upset. Sakura pushed open one of the doors and almost everyone turned to greet him. "I apologize for being late." Sakusa bowed his head. "I also have my son with me. I couldn't find a babysitter in time and my wife is away. He promises to be quiet." Kiyoshi stared up at all the adults in the room, some were wearing formal suits while the rest of the team wore so,ething casual. They were all strangers to him. "Eh? Kiyoshi is already that big?" Atsumu piped up from one side of the long table. "Has it really been three years?" "Omi-kun! He looks just like you!" Hinata was the first to approach Kiyoshi, opening up his palm towards the child. "Can I get a high-five Kiyoshi-kun?" Kiyoshi did not hesitate to slap his smaller palm against the redhead's. Sakusa flinched at the contact. He knows he would have to give a full bath to Kiyoshi when they get home. "Please take a seat Sakusa-san. We'll be starting soon." One of the MSBY representatives said. Sakusa sat beside Atsumu---which was the only available seat left. To keep Kiyoshi occupied, he gave him a piece of paper and a pencil to draw with that he asked one of the secretaries nearby. The meeting continued smoothly. Kiyoshi did well and was silent the whole time. He kept drawing his favorite animals on his paper whilst sitting on his father's lap. He sometimes took Sakusa's hand, and traced around it, making it look like his favorite dinosaur after adding eyes, a mouth and some scales. Kiyoshi would nudge his dad to show his masterpiece to which Sakusa would reply with a pat on Kiyoshi's head added with a feather-like kiss.  The emergency meeting took about an hour and a half. Just as they were wrapping up,  Atsumu's attention was on Kiyoshi. The faux blond wanted to impress the boy with his artistic skills. Whatever animal Kiyoshi wanted to see, Atsumu would draw it. "Can you draw a snake?" "That's easy." Atsumu drew on the corner of the paper. When Kiyoshi, inspected the drawing, he shook his head. "That's not a snake." "What are ya talkin' about? It is a snake!" "That's a worm." "Ya wound me, Kiyoshi-kun!" Atsumu fake gasped which made Kiyoshi laugh. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. "Hey Omi-kun, let's have a play date. My Katsumi is almost the same age as Kiyoshi so—" "No." "That's great! My babies could join too!" Bokuto added. "Wait, I—" Sakusa was interrupted once more. "Hey, that's actually a neat idea." Barnes, who was watching them, piped up from his seat. He looked to their captain sat beside him. "What do you think, Shugo?" The captain of the Jackals pondered on the idea, pursing his lips. "That's actually not bad. Like a family day for the team, right?" Sakusa sighed. He's probably not going to get out of what's about to happen.

---

tags: @plump-peach​ / @keijikunn​

04.19.2021

ready player 2 | kth

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: fluff

rating: pg

wc: 1.1k

warnings: n/a

summary: you don’t know why you need all these tokens OR taehyung shows his true colors

a/n: omfg it took me like 20 mins to get the banner to download skjdnfkjd;vberbhdsk

prompt 20.  T - Token. Person A gives person B and/or C+ something of theirs. Or arcade tokens. Or both??

november drabbles masterlist

main masterlist

“Here you are,” Taehyung passes a cup, the slight slosh of tokens ringing in your canals, already overwhelmed with pings, dings, and screams with every turn. You glance the contents, plastic nearly threatening overflow, your wrist already being worked desperately under metallic weight. 

“Why do I need this many tokens? Do you think I’m gonna need this many replays?” Taehyung chuckles at your manner of defense, taking your hand to drag over to a vacant display. You recognize the figures, now moved on to bigger and better systems, though Taehyung seems to believe this system reigns supreme. 

“No, you dork, the more we win the better our prizes.” He nimbly slots two tokens, your eyes bulging in absurdity at the overpriced novelty. You wager your cup won’t reach as far as your thoughts intended upon initial consumption. “I’ll go first, this one is single player.” 

You gracefully step to the side, screen in full view as characters are chosen and prepared for combat. You’re prepared to cheer Taehyung to victory, sure your presence will be only a trace of what lines the minds of patrons passing and yelling in passionate fits. Your eyes are aglow with the flash of rapid play, this place filled to the brim with machines much the same, like the strobe of a club without the sensual rub of bodies. 

The tell-tale jingle of the game before you chirps and you ready for the strategic press of buttons that you’re sure Taehyung possesses. This isn’t his first time, his eagerness to allow you to a special haunt telling enough that his frequent dates ages before your introductions. 

You’re taken aback when mash of buttons assasults your eyes, strategy all but lost and Taehyung’s win merely dumb luck as his fingers slam to the machine in repeated offense. You flinch with the aggressive nature in his lack of technique, though his smile wide and confident encourages the cheer that had previously died on your lips. 

The duration of the game doesn’t last much more before Taehyung’s avatar is crushed to pieces, earlier confidence knocked with the final blow, smile turning into an annoyed glare at the screen with flashing continuation ,urging another try. 

“Damn, you almost had it,” You lament, glancing for an escape from the brutal gameplay for which you bore witness. “Maybe we could go and try the skeeball machine, I haven’t played in years.”

“In a sec, please? I wanna beat this game, I know I can do it, I mean I used to be a pro.” Taehyung urges with the pout of a puppy, well aware that there’s no avenue in which you’ll steer him wrong. With a sigh you plop two more tokens, peeking at the regenerated screen to watch his play once again. 

You debate advice contrary to his chosen style, but the determined pull of his cheeks and angered pucker of his lips holds you in place, only to offer hopeful smiles when your muscles aren’t contorted in reaction. 

It’s the fourth game, Taehyung still without win, that your boyfriend turns to you with note to the slump in your posture. You attempt to fix your deflated stance before he catches wind but when you fall short he glances to the unoccupied skeeball machine with a sigh. 

“I’m sorry, let’s go play skee ball. I guess I’ve just lost my touch.” He leads you to the enticing display, signs of the taunt daring you to step forth with all you’ve got. Taehyung slides in the tokens, stepping aside to allow you the spotlight. “Show me what you’ve got.” 

You step up, balls flowing toward you, easily scooped up by suddenly clammy hands. You’re unsure if it’s competitive nature or the gaze you feel piercing from behind, but you force the twitch in your posture to still, tongue poking as you roll your first ball up the narrow alley, watching it fall to the metaphorical gutter with a disappointed sigh. 

“Ugh, I’m worse than I remember.” You laugh it off, lapping up another ball, ready for the kill. Before you’ve the chance to follow through you’re met with the surprise of hands at your waist. 

“You’re just nervous. Relax, baby,” Taehyung hums in your ear. As if his words are queue, your shoulders seem to collapse, breath evening whilst your eyes lock on target. “There we go.”

Taehyung steps away and you easily take your next shot, the ball sinking into the most difficult hole. You turn to Taehyung who’s already smiling with adoration, a wink sent your way. After his spot of encouragement you sink shot after shot, the game coming out in your favor and your arms wrapping around Taehyung who twirls you on the spot. 

“I did it!”

“You did, I knew you could. You wanna go again? Or we could try another game, I saw a shooting one over in the corner if you wanna--”

“It’s your turn.” You point back towards his earlier defeat, Taehyung shaking his head with adamance. “Yes! You helped me win, so now it’s my turn to return the favor.” 

“You’ve got some tips for me?” His voice pitches, surprised that you were paying much attention to his game given your earlier stupor. 

“Babe, I can’t believe I’m saying this, I’m truly appalled, but you’re a button masher.” You say the words incredulously, Taehyung’s brows crinkling at the observation. “You smash ‘em like ants on a picnic table and it’s not workin’ for ya.” 

“Are you really critiquing my playing style right now? Fine, let’s see you do it.” 

“Gladly!” You waltz to the machine, still clear from earlier attempts tokens slipping in like routine. “Now, you have to actually watch what your opponent is doing, use strategy instead of just mashing keys and hoping it turns out in your favor.” 

Your fingers are cracked with a hint of arrogance before placed strategically along the buttons. You follow the beats of the jingle, waiting for the fade in before your fingers move effortlessly, watching the dips and dives of your computer opponent. Unlike Taehyung, you end the game in minutes, victory tearing across the screen in bold letters. 

“See?” You turn to a wide eyed, slack jawed boy, a kiss placed to his cheek with a giggle.

“Is it possible to fall even more in love with you? Cause I think I just did,” He grins, tickets spilling from the machine. “If you can do that about a hundred more times I think we’ll have enough tickets for an inflatable guitar or maybe even a harmonica!” 

“You’re ridiculous, you try it.” You attempt to shove him forward, but he readily declines holding you in position. “Tae, you said you wanted to win and I’m trying to help you win!” 

“Well now I just wanna watch you win over and over again. Besides, once a button masher, always a button masher.” 

“Taeh--”

“Once a button masher, always a button masher!” He insists, slotting in tokens, “Now get going, I really want that harmonica!”

Tease

Title: Tease

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

Genre: Established relationship, light smut, slight fluff?

Warnings: Mentions of dom/sub themes (literally just a mention of how Joon takes control), semi-public, heavy petting, teasing, possessive boyfriend, light smut.

Word Count: 5.6k

Song inspiration: Burning Up (Fire)

A/N: My fourth submission for ficswithluv’s Bulletproof Bingo Event is finally here! This is my longest one so far, sort of a commission for a friend of mine who isn’t on tumblr. I asked her to pick my next song from my bingo card and then asked her what kind of thing she wanted and which member/s she wanted to feature. All she gave me was ‘something passionate’ and nominated our very own President Joon. I sent her this earlier this evening and let’s just say she was pretty happy with it! It’s the closest to smut I’ve written in a long time, which is why it took me so long to write as I was making more edits than normal to make sure it was to a level I was happy with.

Also, for the purposes of this story, Y/N is the same age as Taehyung and Jimin :)

The heat around you was stifling, and yet you couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else right now. 

You held your necklaces down against your chest as you jumped in time with the beat, the bass line emphasised by the hundreds of other bodies that were doing the same around you.  You hadn’t stopped smiling the whole time you’d been here, but you’d given up on singing along a few songs ago, your throat dry and starting to scratch after an hour or so of belting out your favourite lyrics. You hadn’t wanted to risk losing your spot right at the front just to get a drink, especially when you knew the set was nearly over, so you’d persevered. 

Your eyes drifted shut as you felt the familiar euphoria wash over you, the same feeling you got every time you got lost in one of these underground shows. Even in the dim lighting, your skin was glistening with the sheen of sweat, the small venue meaning that, even at a limited capacity, the audience was forced to be in even closer proximity than they would be at a normal gig. While you would normally be a bit wary of being so close to so many strangers that contact was unavoidable, there was a sense of security in the fact that everyone else was here because they were into the music as much as you were. If this was a normal nightclub, you’d be stood with your back to the bar and a wary eye on anyone who so much as blinked in your direction.

This wasn’t a normal nightclub, though. This was a strict, word-of-mouth-only gig, a rarity now that the band above you was becoming more and more well known, but it meant that the only people who knew about it were from the scene the guys themselves had grown from and, despite the bad press underground music seemed to get, you’d never met a more respectful group of partiers in your life. Sure, you got jostled and nudged and bumped into, but there was nothing untoward in any of the contact you experienced. No wandering hands or unwanted touches, just the consequences of people getting as lost in the music as you were. 

Besides, they all knew who you were, and so they subsequently knew that any bad word from you would lead to Namjoon banning them for life. You’d repeatedly told him it was too extreme a punishment, but he was adamant. No one touched his girlfriend except him, and that was the end of it. 

Your teeth sank into your lower lip as you imagined Namjoon being able to see you from the stage. You knew that the sight of you amongst the sea of writhing bodies must have been driving him crazy, especially when he’d repeatedly told you that you could watch the gig from the wings of the stage so that he didn’t have to suffer for the whole two hours. But making him wait rather than letting him steal kisses during the breaks in the set was all part of your fun, knowing that the pent up frustration would pay off to both of your benefits before the night was over. 

Another part of your fun was pretending to watch everyone but him. You spent most of the gig watching him, always enthralled by the performer he was, but whenever he looked over to you, you would enjoy letting your gaze linger on Hobi’s hips the few times he would dance freestyle or following Jimin’s hand every time he pushed his hair back from his face. If Namjoon didn’t know it was all part of the game you both played, you wouldn’t do it, but there was something about the way his jaw got tighter every time he caught you watching one of his bandmates that caused a heat to rise from within you. Not to mention the thought of how he would insist you needed reminding who you belonged to afterwards. 

Just the thought of what was to come was enough to let your head drop back onto your shoulders, crooking the arm raised above your head at the elbow to push your own hair away from your neck in a vain attempt to get some cool air on your skin. 

When your eyes finally opened, they were magnetically drawn to Namjoon’s sunglasses, the red frames a stark contrast to the silver hair he was currently sporting. You were close enough to see the beads of sweat at his temples and the way his eyes were locked onto you through his dark lenses. You held his gaze just long enough for him to register that you were looking at him before shifting your focus to Taehyung. You smirked at the way Namjoon’s jaw muscles clenched in your peripheral vision and, knowing that the next was their last song, you decided that tonight was as good a time as any to up the ante in your teasing. 

As Namjoon stepped forward to make the announcement to the crowd that confirmed that this was, in fact, going to be their last song of the night, you took your chance while he was distracted. Looking down as you untucked your top from your shorts, you let your hair fall back over your face to hide the cheshire grin you could feel pushing against your cheeks. The loose material billowed up slightly as it was freed, reminding you why you’d tucked it in to begin with, but you gathered it up in your hands to tie it across your chest. The simple knot rested just under the swell of your breasts as a result, which, combined with the low neckline, left little to the imagination. If it wasn’t for your inherent trust in the crowd around you, you’d never dream of showing so much skin at a gig, but you felt safe enough here to do so. 

You stifled a giggle when you caught Jin watching you, sending a cheeky wink his way that made him shake his head with a playful roll of his eyes. You watched him subtly lean in to Yoongi and murmur something in his ear as Namjoon expressed his thanks to everyone who had turned up. You saw the older rapper’s eyes shift to your face, drop down to your exposed midriff and then shoot back up to your eyes again. You shrugged and feigned a pout, fanning yourself with your hands to show you were making the heat your excuse, but Yoongi simply laughed, wiping a hand over his face as he looked away. 

They knew as well as you did that this would be more than enough to distract Namjoon, maybe it was even verging on being too distracting, but you couldn’t find it in you to care all too much. Your opportunities to play with your boyfriend’s patience during performances were now few and far between, and not only because the front row at a stadium concert was much further away than the front row at a 250-person gig; Namjoon didn’t let you in the crowds at their bigger concerts for your own safety, especially since your relationship had become public just over a year ago. No, when they toured and you were lucky enough to make it, you watched from the wings with the tech crew. But here, you had insisted that he let you be part of the crowd again, telling him you wanted to see him in his element just as you had when you’d first met and fallen in love with him. When he’d relented, you’d known you were going to milk it for all it was worth.

By the time Namjoon was wrapping up his speech with a shout of ‘불타오르네!’, the news of your plan had spread through the other members on the stage. Jimin and Taehyung had both shot you grins as wide as your own, grinning at the back of their leader and laughing between themselves, no doubt making bets on how long it would take for two things to happen: first, for Namjoon to notice you, and second, for Namjoon to drag you away from the rest of the band when you went to meet them backstage. Hobi, just like Jin and Yoongi, had shaken his head only to be betrayed by the smirk on his mouth before imperceptibly sending a sharp dig into Jungkook’s ribs with his elbow, the maknae seemingly frozen to the spot with a water bottle halfway to his lips. Startled, Jungkook’s face flushed red as he turned away, much to the delight of his hyungs despite the wary glances he was shooting at Namjoon. You felt a small twinge of guilt, knowing how much Jungkook respected your boyfriend as his leader and you as his noona but, given that he could also be incredibly cheeky towards you when he’d let a few glasses of soju pass his lips, you felt you were well within your rights to still be able to make him blush.

The cheer of the crowd brought your eyes back to Namjoon as he stepped back from the front of the stage. As they got ready to perform, you saw Jimin lean over and speak right into Namjoon’s ear, and for a second you thought he might be ratting you out, spoiling your fun. However, when all Namjoon did was nod and rearrange his shirt on his shoulders as he turned back to the crowd, a small sigh of relief relaxed your shoulders. 

You watched as Namjoon let the rising tempo wash over him, tipping his head back and breathing deeply as he waited for the beat to drop, and you felt a shiver creep up your spine as you waited for him to notice you. Despite how much you’d enjoyed teasing him all night, you now found yourself unable to take your eyes off of him. You couldn’t look away if you tried, desperate to see the exact moment he noticed you and your newly arranged outfit, though, if you had, you would have seen the way Jimin snuck a glance at you with a grin. Even as you let yourself get swept up in the crowd jumping around you, your eyes stayed firmly on Namjoon. 

All throughout the opening chorus, he jumped about with his bandmates like they always did, throwing arcs of water over the crowd and joining in with the rhythmic bouncing on his feet. Even during Hobi and Yoongi’s verse, he seemed to stay over on the other side of the stage from you, and you could feel yourself growing frustrated. As much as you tried to remind yourself that Namjoon was nothing if not a generous performer, wanting to interact with as much of the audience as he could, you couldn’t help but feel that he was purposefully ignoring you. Maybe you had gone too far with your game, even though you were sure you hadn’t been any worse than normal. 

If they were performing the choreography, you’d understand Namjoon’s distance, but considering they’d decided to forgo the routine for their last song, it meant Namjoon was purposefully avoiding coming near you. The image of Jimin whispering in your boyfriend’s ear flashed up in your memory and you began to think maybe, just maybe, Jimin was trying to sabotage you. After all, you knew he’d most likely made a bet with Taehyung and you also knew Jimin was not against trying to sway the odds in his own favour. 

You called it cheating, he called it being strategic. 

His pink hair seemed to glimmer under the stage lights as he sang his part of the hook alongside Jungkook at the front of the stage, holding out his mic to the crowd for the recalls, his grin as wide as it always was when he got to perform so closely to his fans. He caught your gaze as the chorus kicked in but quickly looked away. Given the playful flirtiness you and Jimin had always had as a part of your friendship, both before and after you and Namjoon had started dating, his looking away from you without first sending a cheeky wink your way had you wondering if there wasn’t something more going on. 

You found it hard to keep up with the energy of the crowd as they bounced in time with the music, feeling like your thoughts were coming too quickly for you to hear them properly as you tried to figure out what was going on. As your feet came to a stop on the hard floor below you, you noticed that none of the seven men on the stage would meet your eyes in return. Not even Jungkook, who seemed to be able to sense it if you looked at him for longer than a few seconds.

It’s probably nothing, a small voice in your head made its way to the forefront of your conscious mind. It’s the last song, let them give the crowd what they want. 

“Hey, burn it up-” Namjoon’s voice cut through your thoughts, his verse bringing him to the front of the stage with a rise of cheers to meet him. He was just a few people across from you, leaning out over the first row of the crowd, and even this sudden increase in proximity after watching him on the stage all night was enough to bring your heart rate up. Your eyes darted around his face like you hadn’t seen him in weeks, taking in the sharp line of jaw, the damp hair at his temples, the way his lips formed around his words right up against the mic… 

You could also see his eyes behind his sunglasses from this angle and, with a hitch in your breath, you realised that he was watching you out of the corner of his eye. His dark gaze languidly drifted down your body as his deep voice continued to rumble out of the speakers, lingering at what you guessed must be your exposed waist before snapping back up to look you straight in the eye. You let your smile return as you gazed up at him from under your lashes but, rather than seeing any sort of approval cross his face, Namjoon’s brow seemed to furrow briefly before he turned away just in time for Hobi to join him, the two of them slinging their arms around each other’s shoulders. Being the subject of Namjoon’s attention never failed to spark a tingling sensation in your spine and this game of pushing each other to the limits in public was one you both enjoyed, regularly discussing where the borders of fun and actual frustration laid. The shivers that spread from your spine outwards to the tips of your fingers and all the way down to your toes was a confusing, heady mix of fear that he was actually unimpressed and arousal that he was trying to exert his dominance even from the stage. Even you couldn’t tell, despite how well you knew Namjoon, and it was a situation you hadn’t been in since you’d first started playing this game, back before you were publicly dating and you first tested the waters of trying to tempt him while he was on stage. 

The crowd continued to pulse and swell around you in time with the music like waves crashing up against a cliff and, in the same way a cliff withstands the waters, you were unmoved by the energy around you. All you could do was watch Namjoon, waiting for him to give you another dose of the attention he had just given you a taste of so that you could figure out what he was thinking. Pressing your thighs against each other as you felt the heat in your abdomen spread lower, you tried to repress the shiver that crept up your spine at the conflicting feelings you were experiencing. 

But it seemed as if a taste was all Namjoon was willing to give you as he went back to either dancing around the opposite side of the stage or purposefully looking out over and above you to the rest of the crowd. Arcs of water once again flew out across the crowd, their cheers reaching fever pitch as Jimin, Hobi and Taehyung indulged the crowd, performing small snippets of the dance break.

It wasn’t until the final chorus began to fade out that Namjoon met your eye again, this time simply nodding his head towards the door that led backstage as you saw the telltale twitch in his jawline. 

Fuck. 

As subtly as you could, you stepped back from the very front to make your way through the crowd to the left of the stage, ducking your head as you went. You cast one last cursory glance before turning down the small corridor that led to the backstage door, only to see that no one was watching you leave. Namjoon was back in among his bandmates as they lined the front of the stage, jumping along with the crowd before them.

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you made your way down the side of the stage, hastily pulling the front of your shirt free from the knot you’d thought was such a good idea not five minutes earlier. You weren’t sure if it was fear or just finally being away from the mass of bodies, but a chill ghosted over your arms as you fished your pass out of the small cross-body purse you were wearing (a gift from Hobi, of course) and held it up for the man stationed by the door. Seemingly satisfied after a very brief glance, he pushed the door open for you and let you through, pulling it shut behind you. 

As you passed the small steps that led up to the wings, you could hear the music fading out despite the renewed cheering that echoed down the hall in front of you. You’d never been here before, but you had been to enough venues of various sizes to find your way to the lounge area quite easily. Slipping inside, you smiled at the few members of BigHit staff that were waiting to help out post-performance, a few of the make-up eonnis waving you over to give you brief hugs. Just as they were asking you how the show had been, the echoes of loud footsteps and laughter started to come down the corridor and it became evident the boys had left the stage. Flashing a smile at the women beside you, you made your way over to the sofa on the other side of the room as they readied themselves for the organised chaos that always followed a gig.

Jin and Yoongi were the first ones to come through the door, unsurprisingly, both immediately finding their chairs and handing off their jackets to the waiting pairs of hands from wardrobe. Jin’s gaze locked with yours in his mirror. You didn’t miss how his eyes darted down to take in your smoothed-out shirt but, before you could ask where Namjoon was, he simply smirked and turned his attention back to Yoongi, who was talking beside him. 

Jimin and Jungkook tumbled in next with Taehyung close behind them, Jimin bent over in giggles and Jungkook talking rapidly with Taehyung, every back and forth between them bringing a fresh wave of laughter from their hyung. As he straightened up, Jimin was immediately ushered over to another of the make-up stations while Jungkook wandered over to wardrobe to hand over his jacket and begin taking off his outer shirt. Taehyung, the only one seemingly not bothered with removing his clothes or his make-up, came over to your side of the room with a feigned nonchalance that you could see right through. You knew him well enough by now to know that his barely-concealed grin meant he was dying to tell you something, but he had clearly sworn his secrecy as, instead of talking to you, he simply grabbed a bottle of water from the table beside you and winked as he turned away again, twisting the plastic cap open.

You weren’t sure if you were imagining the growing tension in the room as each of the present members seemed to catch each other’s gazes, none of them putting any effort into hiding their glances at you. Nervous energy was now thrumming through you, your right leg bouncing on the ball of your foot and your hands tightly interlocked on your lap. Before he could move away, you took a shot at trying to weaken Taehyung’s resolve.

“Taehyung-ah?” The man in question simply raised an eyebrow with a hum of acknowledgement. You looked up at him with widened eyes and a hint of pleading in your tone. “Where’s Namjoonie?” 

You’d stopped using ‘oppa’ for your boyfriend not long after you’d started dating, feeling a little bit uncomfortable with using the term for the man you were sleeping with as well as his older bandmates. Besides, he was more than happy with you using his nickname as a substitute for the honorific; at least, he was when you had company.

Taehyung glanced around with an exaggerated look of confusion, as if he’d only just realised Namjoon wasn’t yet in the room, before turning to you with what you could only describe as a mischievous smile, “I’m sure he’ll be here soon, Y/N-ah.”

Low and behold the door opened then for the final time, Hobi and Namjoon seemingly in deep conversation with one of the managers as they came into the room. You shifted in your spot, tucking a leg under yourself to refrain from running over to him and interrupting, and your hands started turning white as they gripped each other even tighter. Everyone else in the room tuned out of your senses as you watched Namjoon in conversation. It seemed the way he could enrapture you without even trying was never going to fade, your body sitting up straighter and your heart beating faster as your eyes drank him in, in all his post-performance glory. His sweat-dampened hair and flushed face made you subtly adjust the foot beneath you to put pressure against your core through your jeans, the sight so remarkably close to how he looked after sex that it almost made you whimper. 

Namjoon’s brow furrowed slightly as he carefully listened to the conversation around him before a smile lit up his features once more, Hobi’s laughter following immediately afterwards. When Hobi wandered over to talk to Jungkook, Namjoon finally looked up at you, his dark eyes immediately finding yours without hesitation. He held your gaze for what felt like an eternity, your heart hammering so fast inside your chest you were sure he could hear it even 10 feet away, until his eyes dropped to your clothes. You noticed the slight tilt of his head as he took in your untied shirt, an eyebrow rising slightly as he looked back up to your face, a question clear in his eyes. Feeling the opportunity to play arising once more, you tipped your head to the side in response as if asking what he was looking for, the small action making him smile with a glint in his eyes as they unabashedly roved over you once more. 

He turned as his name was suddenly called out, your eye contact breaking briefly before he gave you one last glance. The darkness in his eyes that vanished as soon as his attention was elsewhere made you know that look was only for you, and the thought sent a tantalising shiver through your body. He dropped into the make-up chair Jin had just vacated, Taehyung dropping into Yoongi’s just seconds later, and kept his gaze down towards his phone, his fingers already tapping away rapidly. You continued to watch him for a few seconds before realising that you were full-on staring at him and, while he was your boyfriend and you had every right to look at him as much as you wanted, it probably looked a little bit scary to other people in the room. 

You settled back into the sofa once more with a sigh, diverting your attention to the other people in the room. You took these few moments to catch your breath, trying to calm your heart for the inevitable moment you would have to stand up to leave. You knew the boys weren’t stupid, but stumbling out on shaky legs would only add to the teasing they already loved to throw at you. You watched the rest of the band joke around with each other as they went through their normal post-show routines, although you couldn’t ignore that they normally would have come over to talk to you by now. The tension you’d felt building earlier was still there, a discreet undercurrent that made your shoulders tense slightly.

“Ahem.” The sound of Namjoon clearing his throat beside you made you jump, turning to see him standing over you with a hand outstretched, almost close enough to touch your cheek. You looked up to his eyes only to find them almost black as they stared back down at you. “Come with me,” he said, his voice was quiet but firm. “We need to talk.”

The sudden dryness of your mouth made it difficult to swallow as you carefully put your hand on top of his upturned palm, his fingers immediately closing over it to pull you up. As soon as you were on your feet, he turned to lead you out of the room with a determination that almost made you stumble as he pulled you along behind him. 

“Joon?” You struggled to find your voice as you entered the cool corridor, the sudden change in temperature after the warmth of the lounge making you shiver. “Is everything okay?”

Silently, your boyfriend turned right and led you further away from the stage and the rest of the club. Despite his silence, the squeeze he gave to your hand reassured you that he wasn’t angry; you knew that he wouldn’t even be holding your hand right now if he was. You passed another door, your eyes just able to read ‘Maintenance’ written across it before turning around the corner, the door to the parking garage in sight at the end of the corridor. Before you could fully form the thought that Namjoon was going to drive you both home, he suddenly stopped and turned back to you, twisting his hand to link his fingers with yours. 

“You sure do like to push my buttons, don’t you, princess?” If it wasn’t for Namjoon’s left hand pushing your hips back into the wall, you’re certain your knees would have given out when you heard his voice, deep and rasping as he leant to put his face against the crook of your neck. A whimper stopped short in your throat but your body didn’t let you down, flushing with heat as your back already began to arch into him. Namjoon’s body covered yours, your eyes drifting shut as his lips brushed against your neck under your ear. 

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered back, your free hand fisting the hem of his shirt, your intertwined hands pressed up against the wall where he held them.

“No? Are you sure?” The hand on your hip drifted up slowly, pushing your shirt up along the curve of your waist as Namjoon took your earlobe between his teeth with enough pressure to send a jolt of pleasure through you. The warmth of his skin on yours made you shiver, the firm pressure of his hand making you lean your body into him. ”Do I have to remind you?” His hand left your ribs to grab the hem of your shirt, lifting the material and bunching it together just under your breasts, the cold air of the corridor hitting your skin immediately and contrasting the heat of his hand against your breastbone. “This ring any bells?” Namjoon pressed his mouth to your neck, lips parted slightly to let his warm breath heat your skin even more.

“Maybe,” you breathed out with a slight shake to your voice that you couldn’t conceal, pushing your hips forward to meet his before pulling them away again. “What about it?”

The rumble of Namjoon’s chuckle sent vibrations down your neck, his hips following yours to press against you, your slight height difference allowing him to push his hardened length right against your abdomen.

“Do you not think it’s hard enough for me to concentrate when I can see you in the crowd?” He pulled back to put his forehead against yours, eyes open and dangerously dark as they stared into yours. “Watching you in amongst all those bodies, watching people touch you while having to act like nothing’s wrong? Not able to come down and make sure everyone knows you’re mine?”” His words ghosted over your lips and he nudged your nose with his. You could feel his grip on your shirt tighten as the straps started to pull against your shoulders. “And on top of all that, you think it’s fair to do this to me?” He pushed the material up even further, dangerously close to exposing your chest entirely, your breath stuttering as you bit into your lip as your hips began to slowly roll against each other.

You could feel your blood pump faster as you squeezed his hand in yours, Namjoon answering the action in kind. You had yet to feel his lips on yours and it was driving you crazy, a small whine slipping past your lips as he moved his attention back to your neck. 

“Joon…” Your voice was barely above a whisper but seemed to cut through the silence of the empty corridor, your desperation clear in your tone. You loved that no matter how much power you seemed to be able to wield in the build-up, you always ended up completely at the mercy of Namjoon. He let you play with him, let you have your fun, but he was always the one to take control in the end. He decided when to give you what you wanted from him, and you wouldn’t get it a second sooner. And he was proving that now.

“It’s bad enough that you flirt with the others to make me jealous,” he continued to murmur against your neck. “I even told them to ignore you tonight to give you a taste of your own medicine, but it seems like you can’t cope with not being the center of attention. Isn’t that right, baby?” The hand that was holding yours slipped from your grasp to instead hold you by your wrist, the edge of authority hardening his voice making your knees weak. “Seems like I need to remind you who you belong to,” he mused, teeth grazing the column of your neck before planting a kiss just above your collarbone. A sigh escaped you as you shuddered, your body held between the wall and Namjoon’s chest. 

“Please.”

His eyes bore into yours, that dark playfulness that you craved glinting under the fluorescent lights. Your eyes drifted shut as Namjoon came even closer, your bodies touching in as many places as he could manage without having you wrapped around him. In the same second that you finally felt Namjoon’s lips brush against yours, their softness drawing a whimper from your mouth, a cacophony of voices, laughter and footsteps echoed down the corridor. 

Your eyes shot open, panicked, but Namjoon simply grinned, seemingly in no rush to protect your modesty as the voices slowly came closer. 

“Joon.” Your voice was firm, eyes rapidly going between his as your breath grew rapid from panic rather than arousal. 

“I can’t wait to get you home.” He stated simply and then, with a blink, the glint in his eyes disappeared and he stood back, his hands releasing your wrist and smoothing your shirt down against your tummy once more. He placed a kiss to your forehead just as the band came round the corner, the innocent act giving you mental whiplash. 

“Okay, guys, c’mon, keep it in your pants in public, please,” Hobi laughed as he walked towards you both, your back still up against the wall as Namjoon tucked your hair behind your ear with a chuckle. 

“Am I not allowed to talk to my girlfriend in private without being accused of being a pervert?” he joked, his other hand tucked in his pocket to try and subtly try and adjust himself in his jeans. 

“You two never ‘just talk’ in private,” Yoongi drawled without looking up from his phone as he made his way towards the parking garage, laughter rippling through the rest of the group behind him. You felt your cheeks flush, but not out of embarrassment; you were still catching your breath, the close call with being caught exciting you more than it ever had before. 

You and Namjoon were left behind the band, a few members of staff waiting behind you to make sure you both made it to the car waiting for you safely. Namjoon took your hand gently this time, smiling down at you and tugging you to fall into step beside him before draping his arm across your shoulders, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Let’s get you home.”

Witch!Kurt #44: Three Cats and a Coffee Shop

~*~*~*~*~ 

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Kurt asked, resting his hands on Adam’s shoulders and kneading the tense muscles with soothing pressure. “As much as I like the idea of being able to eavesdrop on this meeting, I don’t want you to feel like you have to go. You don’t have anything to prove.”

Adam nodded, lifting his own hands to lightly grip Kurt’s wrists, not to to push him away but to take comfort in the increased contact. “I know. I think I moved myself past that hurdle the last time we were in Lima, but I still want to go. And it’s not as if he’ll know it’s me. I’ll just feel better about things if I can be sure, once and for all, that he has no power over me. Besides, I rather like the idea of giving you a psychic Skype.”

Kurt laughed, pleasantly surprised by the little joke. He could feel that his husband was nervous but no longer terrified by the thought of close contact with Blaine, and that reassured him in turn. Giving those smiling lips a soft kiss, he nodded and let him go. “All right then.” He looked over at Fam, who were sitting on the arm of the living room sofa watching their exchange. “Sam? Are you sure Blaine will be at the Bean right now?”

The blank expression that the two young men typically wore when neither was exerting any particular control over their shared body cleared as Sam came to the forefront. “Probably. Before Burt came to get me, I used to spend most of my time there and Blaine always came in for at least an hour every afternoon around this time. Back then I was upset because he never wanted to talk to me, but now I’m kind of glad he didn’t.”

He twitched like he had just had a bug crawl over his skin. Sam had come an amazingly long way since being joined with Finn, but he could still recall what it had felt like to spend every day feeling confused, and exhausted, and desperately lonely, unable to understand what he had done to drive away the person he had believed to be his best friend. He was just starting to come to grips with the betrayal of that relationship, and the knowledge of just how much harm had been done to him, Finn, and so many others.

Kurt patted him on the back, understanding that feeling better than most people could.

“Okay, then. Sebastian, Tubbington, Elliott, and Adam, you’re on recon duty. While we see how things stand with Blaine, I want Dani and Monica to go over to McKinley and check with Sue Sylvester. I’ll text and let her know you’re coming. She can get you a pass to take a look around the school and find out what kind of shape the kids and teachers are in. Also find out if Blaine is sucking power or magic dumping with anyone in particular. My guess would be the current group of New Directions, if he hasn’t found another David or Sam yet.”

“On it,” Dani said. “I know where the school is from when I was dating Santana. We came here once for some concert the club was putting on.”

He nodded, interested to realize that nobody was hesitating at all about following his directives. On the contrary, they seemed happy to be taking action. He turned toward his old classmates.

“Santana, Brittany, and Johnny,” he said. “I know you’re probably surprised that I didn’t give you the McKinley job but I wanted to send someone the people there won’t be familiar with, and I have another job that I feel like your particular blend of talents is very well suited for.  I think it’s time we begin a subtle harassment campaign.”

Santana perked up like a child who had just received a new puppy for Christmas. “You want us to be the itching powder in Blainer’s shorts? For realz?”

He grinned at her excitement. “Absolutely. Wait for the others to finish their coffee run first, but after that you have blanket permission to become his unwelcome shadows. Use whatever dirty tricks you like as long you don’t get caught. I want Blaine irritated, annoyed, unfocused, and most of all, distracted from thinking about me and what I might be doing.”

“And what will you be doing?” Elliott asked, knowing his friend too well to think he would be content to sit here and direct the action without being part of it.

“I want to go to Dalton Academy,” he said.  “Ever since I first learned there was such a thing as influential magic, I’ve suspected that Blaine probably got started there. Most of you never saw him as a Warbler, but they used to hang on his every word, and hand him every solo even though their standing policy, at least according to the group’s council, had always been to parcel songs out fairly.  I remember competing for a secondary spot against two guys named Nick and Jeff, and finding out later that neither one had had a solo since Blaine started at Dalton, even though both of them had been there longer than he had.  It suggests that he’s probably been buying influence with magic since he was around fifteen.”

“So, five or six years,” Sebastian mused. “That sounds about right. You know that a big part of the reason I came to find Blaine back when we first met was because the Warblers were so united in being up his ass. It’s why I assumed he would be something special. By the time I started at Dalton the famous Warbler Council had graduated and nobody could organize themselves well enough to replace them. Taking over was a snap. At the time, I thought it was just my own charisma that made them fall in behind me like a row of ants, but I guess they were just conditioned to play follow the leader.”

He looked so disappointed by this revelation that Kurt could not help smiling. “That’s right, and I’m betting Blaine’s influential magic didn’t really ramp up until he went to Dalton, just as mine didn’t start to manifest until I became a student there. I’ve been thinking about this a lot and I believe there’s more to that school than just a couple of residual power confluences. Now that I have the power to really check the place out, I want a better look.”

Burt cut in before anyone else could speak. “Not alone.” He pointed a stern finger when Kurt opened his mouth to protest. “No. I know you’ve got a lot of power now, Kurt, but I’m gonna put my foot down on this one. If your group of Warblers was that far under Blaine’s thumb, what do you think the current group that he’s playing teacher with is going to be like?  You want to go to Dalton? Fine, but you take someone along to watch your back.”

Elliott, to Kurt’s surprise, sided with his father. “He’s right.  I can either take you over there now while the others go spy on Blaine, or you can wait until we’re back.”

Chiming in on the side of caution, Adam said, “We’re only going to be gone a short while, darling, and you’ll want to concentrate on whatever I’m experiencing. Afterward, you can go to Dalton better fortified with knowledge of what you’re walking into.”

It was obvious to Kurt that Adam wanted to go with him, but his husband’s reason for wanting to face Blaine was a sound one, and that he would almost certainly need a little time to recover after doing so.

It was not anyone’s fault that Kurt was suddenly itching to take direct and immediate action.

“Okay,” he agreed, trying not to show his reluctance. “You’re right. I’d rather stick with the current plan and wait until you get home. Just be careful, okay? All of you?”

~*~*~*~*~

Sebastian Smythe sauntered into the Lima Bean, looking as smug as it was possible for any person to look as he strolled over to an empty table carrying a large, lazily-lounging black cat in his arms. He had conjured the most casually expensive clothing he could think of, because he knew that Blaine Anderson had an almost Pavlovian attraction to a show of ‘better than you’.

Beside him walked a pudgy, bearded man dressed in wrinkled khakis and a black t-shirt covered by an eye-popping orange and white Hawaiian shirt, with a smiling sun medallion resting prominently against his chest.

Blaine Anderson was right where Sam had said he would be. Center table, seated alone. He looked up as the newcomers came into the shop, straightening his posture and smiling as they approached his table, only to frown when they turned left and took seats at an empty table nearby without seeming to notice him. His frown became one of puzzlement when the black cat peered up at the posted menu next to the barista station, looking as if it were considering what to order. His bafflement only grew when a smiling teenage waitress approached after just a few seconds, carrying a saucer full of heavily creamed coffee, which she placed in front of her unusual customer, patting his sleek little head gently before she took coffee orders from the two men.

Blaine shot a glower at the girl’s back when she walked away without so much as a glance in his direction, giving a flip of her high ponytail and a disdainful swish of her short skirt. Lima Bean employees were not supposed to wear skirts as part of their work uniform, but this one seemed to be doing whatever she liked today, including ignoring a customer who was raising his empty cup to request a refill. He focused back on the newcomers and decided to speak first, since they seemed annoyingly disinclined to be polite.

“Hey, Sebastian,” he said slowly, “Long time no see.”

“Oh … Blaine,” Sebastian replied slowly, feigning an air of surprise as though he had only just noticed that he and his unknown companion were not the only people in the coffee shop. His eyes flicked to the empty cup in Blaine’s hand and he smirked. “What happened, you forget to tip your server again?”

“She’s probably a Cheerio in her off-duty hours,” he grumbled in reply, setting the cup down with an annoyed click when the girl returned with two small plates of pastries for the men, ignoring Blaine once again as she left. “All of Sue Sylvester’s girls act like they own the world.”

The heavy-set man snorted around a bite of croissant. “Must be contagious,” he mumbled.

Blaine gave him a vaguely disdainful look as the man inhaled his pastry and brushed the crumbs off his shirt and beard. He flicked a gesture toward Elliott, who was watching him with impassive blue eyes over the top of the saucer and licking flecks of cream off his long whiskers. “Are you allowed to have that thing in here? Isn’t it kind of unhygienic?”

Tubbington gave Blaine an appraising once-over, flicking a few crumbs in his general direction just to annoy their observer. Even with all his screwing around in the minds and magic of witches, the little punk clearly wasn’t able to recognize a Familiar when he saw one. Probably because no self-respecting Familiar would be caught within a mile of him. Well, except for Sebastian. Tubbington nearly hissed at the boy on general principle. “We know the owners. They make an exception for Service Animals.”

“Service animal?” Blaine repeated, mouth twisting a little. “A cat? That’s ridiculous.”

“Support Animal then,” he replied. “Emotional, not that it’s any of your business. Ya nosy little shit.” The last comment was muttered under his breath, but Blaine’s stiffening features showed that he had heard. Tubbington hid a smile around a sip of steaming caramel latte – pity they didn’t serve booze in a place like this – from the cup their cute little waitress had just set in front of him.

Sebastian paid for the drinks, his own a regular triple-shot mocha, and gave the girl a generous tip, winking at her as she blushed and flounced away. Blaine scowled at her back, and Sebastian smiled at him. “You see, I find it very depressing to be around some people,” he said, taking a sip and nodding thoughtfully as though the drink had managed, barely, to meet his expectations. “The cat reminds me not to go around punching them in the face.”

Tubbington snorted a laugh at Blaine’s nonplussed expression.

“Oh, by the way,” Sebastian continued. “This is my uncle. L.T. is visiting town and I thought I’d show him my old haunts. Unc, this is Blaine Anderson. A high school acquaintance of mine.”

The way he said the words seemed to imply that that relationship had been so far in the past that it was barely worth remembering, like the imaginary friend one had played with when they were a toddler.

Blaine bristled. “We were a little more than that.”

“Were we?” he said, frowning slightly. “I forget, did we hook up at some point? It’s hard to remember. I was kind of a wild kid. You know how it goes, L.T.  Small town, not much to do, not too many out guys to choose from.”

His apologetic tone seemed to suggest that his friendship with Blaine had been a case of slim pickings being better than none at all, and Tubbington could not hold back a grin at the incensed expression on Blaine’s face. “Yeah, I get it,” he said. “Lucky you got a boyfriend now.”

Back off, gel-head. He’s off the market, Tubbington thought, reaching across to pat Elliott’s head as the black cat began to purr loudly. He had made the statement because he was curious to see how this self centered creature would react to the news of Sebastian’s relationship. Especially, if he was looking for a new pigeon following his breakup with Dave Karofsky.

“Why don’t you come over and join us?” Sebastian said, abruptly taking on a friendlier tone as he casually lifted a finger to gain the waitress’s attention and pointed to Blaine’s empty cup. She nodded and he smiled, knowing it would annoy the other man even more to have his order jumped to while Blaine’s had been ignored. “We can catch up a little.”

Blaine practically leaped to accept. He started to take the chair next to Sebastian’s, but changed his mind and took the one across when Elliott continued to stare him down with eyes that looked entirely too wise. “Not a cat person,” he explained faintly.

Tubbington slurped his latte, looking nearly as smug as his ‘nephew’. If only you knew, you little shit.

Thoroughly enjoying teasing this particular rat, Sebastian said, “Yes … I remember that now. Kurt said you wouldn’t let him get a cat after you moved in with him. He had intended to get one when he moved to New York. Even made sure the loft was pet friendly before signing the lease, but then he was too busy starting his new life at Vogue and moving in, setting up housekeeping, babysitting Rachel Berry. He barely had time for anything else. And that was before he threw college into the mix. Most of us understood that.”

Blaine flushed, recognizing the barb in that comment. He had been the only person who did not understand that Kurt’s jam-packed schedule as he was setting up his life in New York would not permit him to devote as much time to keeping Blaine happy and attended. “How do you know what Kurt’s life was like? You were never friends.”

He sounded like a sulking child.

Sebastian shrugged one shoulder, smirking knowingly as he said, “No, not then. I ran into him again after he dumped you the last time, and … well, let’s just say that we’ve learned a lot about each other since then.”

Blaine, who had bristled at the reminder of being dumped, suddenly looked like he wanted to murder Sebastian. The intensity of his gaze as he leaned forward and stared at his former friend was honestly frightening. It did not seem entirely sane. “What do you mean, since then? I heard through a couple of people at McKinley that Kurt had gotten married. Apparently to someone he must have just met. I know for a fact he wasn’t dating anyone at Christmas.”

Continuing to alternately sip at his coffee and pet the cat in his lap, a cat that had begun subtly growling at Blaine’s enraged tone, Sebastian just smiled with a knowing air.

“Check your sources, short-stack,” Tubbington cut in, ignoring the fact that in his human form he and Blaine were roughly the same height. He merely spoke to be condescending, wanting to get the boy’s attention off of Sebastian.

Sure enough that weirdly hostile focus shifted to him. He could feel the energy of badly focused magic washing over him, strong but sloppy, as if it were water thrown from a full bucket, searching for any target in its general vicinity.

Santana had been right. Swipe and Splooge was indeed this one’s style.

While the influence of Wild magic had no real effect on him, he could feel that Blaine had indeed grown dangerous with it. This profligate use of power, used with no real need or focus, paired with a hair-trigger temper showed that much. This boy had no more notion or care for how the power worked, or how to fine-tune it for a better result, than a monkey knew the difference between picking up a gun and pulling the trigger, or just tossing a handful of poop at someone. As long as it got a reaction, nothing else mattered.

“Kurt was seeing someone at Christmas. They got married on Valentine’s Day. I was invited, seeing as I’m a close family friend and all.”

Blaine looked like his head was about to explode. “Valentine’s Day?” He turned to Sebastian again. “You married Kurt, my Kurt, on our special day?”

He was yelling, not seeming to notice or care that everyone else in the Lima Bean had started staring. Apparently Blaine had known about the wedding, but not the exact date, or the identity of the other groom. That was very interesting. It suggested that whomever had spilled the beans when they returned to Lima must somehow have had enough control over themselves, in spite of his influence, to not part with too much information.

Had he been throwing the net of his influence over too wide a target, making it lose strength? Or had the sudden loss of Karofsky taken a greater toll than they had supposed.

Tubbington placed a hand against his own chest, pretending to adjust the chain that held his medallion, but in reality just covering the fact that the necklace had started to tremble against his breast. It gave him a chance to give Adam’s transformed body a supportive pat. Whether he was having a fear reaction to Blaine’s show of rage, or just getting angry himself at this show of possessiveness, Adam clearly needed a little help keeping control.

“Funny,” Sebastian said calmly, pushing away his cup and cuddling the cat in his arms closer, likely for the same reason that Tubbington was soothing Adam. Elliott was a very collected individual most times, but he did have a temper when someone he cared about was being mistreated. And he loved Kurt with all his big generous heart. “I don’t seem to recall Valentine’s as being anything special for you. Didn’t you hit on another dude right in front of Kurt in your first year as friends? Then pretend to be so badly injured from that rock salt I tossed in your face the next year that you couldn’t bother getting him a gift, even though you were dating and supposed to be madly in love by then? Ignored him so thoroughly, in fact, that Karofsky thought you’d broken up and that it was smooth sailing to Kurt’s heart.”

“What? You? He?” Blaine spluttered.

Sebastian laughed, his wicked green eyes gleaming. The rat was cornered now. “Oh, I know all about that. By the way, I just heard that Dave dumped you too. Always thought that guy was smarter than he looked. I guess it’s a good thing you and I never dated. You’d be Oh for Three.”

Everyone at the table flinched when a shockwave of pure uncontrolled power washed over them from the force of Blaine’s temper. Damn, he was even more hair-triggered than they had guessed if all it took was a mere mention of losing Kurt and Karofsky. He had always been a bit unstable, but the unfiltered and repeated use of stolen magic and high emotion – for that was certainly what he was siphoning from the crowds of brain-washed Standards – had taken its toll.

Tubbington, sensing the coming explosion, had placed both hands protectively over the disguised Adam and whispered a protective incantation under his breath. Thus shielded, the human was no more affected by the blast than the Familiars were. Even so, Tubbington felt a bit shaken and he knew it must be even worse for Adam to have felt that touch again after what he had experienced before.

He glanced around the café. The little witch behind the barista station was looking stunned. Their fellow customers, Standards all, suddenly looked as intelligent as a pack of zombies in a B movie. This might take them a couple of days to recover from.

Tubbington didn’t really do guilt, but he grimaced, wondering just how often things like this had been happening in Anderson’s vicinity while they had stayed home waiting for a perfect moment to confront him. Not that they could or should have done anything else before their coven leader was properly trained and protected within his magic, but the delay still sucked for these poor saps.

For his part, Blaine looked both shocked and disappointed that his three companions were unaffected. He reached forward as if intending to take the hand Sebastian had laid on the edge of the table to steady himself when the surprising temper tantrum had struck, and Elliott struck out at him with sharp, angry, protective claws, scoring a furrow along the back of Blaine’s hand.

“Ow!” he shouted, snatching his hand back and looking at the injury in disbelief as it started to well blood. Just as if he himself had not been the one to attack first, or as if he had already forgotten his murderous impulse, he scowled and pressed a paper napkin to the wound. “Get that fucking animal under control, Sebastian!”

“You might need a tetanus shot. We don’t know where he’s been,” Sebastian remarked.  

It took Blaine a moment to realize that his former friend was actually speaking to the cat.

As he shoved his chair dramatically back from the table, Sebastian looked at him with narrowed eyes. “By the way, Blaine. I’m not the one Kurt married, and you might want to think about all the things you’ve told me over the last couple of years. Because you aren’t nearly as good as you think you are, and this is fair warning. Kurt knows what you’ve done, or tried to do, and he’s through playing nice.”

For a moment, Blaine looked confused, then slightly frightened. But his focus immediately returned to his personal obsession. “Who did Kurt marry if it wasn’t you? Tell me!”

“Un-fucking-believable,” Tubbington said, slapping both hands hard on the table and standing up. He needed to get Adam out of here, the medallion against his chest was growing hot. Besides, he’d had about all he could take of this guy. “Why don’t you get a life and stop butting into Kurt’s, you little pecker-head. He ain’t your puppet anymore. We came here today to tell you that your reign of power in Lima is over. It started with Kurt, and now it’s going to end with him. Got me?”

Blaine looked warily from hard hazel eyes to challenging green ones. Even the black cat was glaring.  He blinked, as if he had just figured out that they were not affected by his influence somehow. He realized something else as well. “He’s at Burt’s house,” he said slowly. “That’s why Burt wouldn’t let me inside to visit Sam last week. Kurt was there.”

He was wrong, of course, but no one felt the need to enlighten him.

Blaine suddenly smiled brightly, an expression that had no business being on the face of someone who had just been subtly threatened.

This must be how stalkers look before pulling out a knife and getting all stabby,’ Tubbington thought, backing off a step.

Blaine laughed, “I get it! This was just a test, to find out if I still love Kurt. Burt, and you … you’re both trying to protect him because you don’t understand that he and I are soul mates. Kurt belongs with me. We both know that.” He sounded so reasonable that it was absolutely creepy. “He must have realized that he made a mistake and left that other guy. Just like me and Dave.  Kurt must be afraid I won’t forgive him, but I will.  We both made mistakes, but nobody has ever suited me as well as Kurt. I don’t need anyone else. We’ll get his marriage annulled, if he hasn’t done it already, and then we can be together. Just like we were meant to be. And he’ll leave New York. That place was never good for us. Too many bad influences. Other guys made Kurt think he could belong to someone else, and that he needed to pursue his own life, instead of taking care of me the way he should have. Let him know I forgive him and that we can stay in Ohio. Everything will be the way it should always have been.”

Sebastian, not usually one to display his feelings overtly, was staring at Blaine as one would stare at an in-progress fender bender. Watching him shift in the space of a ten minute conversation from jealous, to murderous, to whiny, to annoyed, to full blown fantasy land had thrown Sebastian off balance as very little else could.

Elliott was looking as if he’d experienced the unexpected sharing of someone else’s acid trip.

“Blainers has gone bye-bye,” Tubbington muttered.

Blaine was no longer paying attention to them. He did not seem to care at all when Sebastian made a vague excuse about having somewhere to be and the three of them exited the café.

~*~*~*~*~

They ducked into a convenient alley between a restaurant and a clothing store, so that the cat and the medallion could both resume their human forms.

Elliott took the arm of a lightly trembling Adam, Transporting him back to Burt’s house as the other two Familiars came along under their own power. Neither could carry another person, but as they had long since explained to Kurt, any cat could use the in-between spaces to Teleport themselves.

When they appeared, Kurt stepped forward and pulled his husband into a firm embrace. Adam’s arms came to encircle his waist, holding on just as tight.

“Are you okay?” Kurt asked, pulling back to look into his eyes. “I could feel how difficult it was for you to hold on. Do you need to lie down? Can I get you anything?”

Adam managed a smile as he pulled him closer again. “No, darling. I just need to be here with you for a few moments, knowing both of us are safe and sound. Could you see and hear all of that?”

Kurt shivered. “Most of it. I lost transmission here and there, but I certainly caught the last part. He sounded insane.”

“Looked it too,” Sebastian said unhappily.

Elliott sat down on the sofa and patted the space next to him. Recognizing that his Familiar needed the reassurance of his presence, Kurt cuddled in next to him and slung his arm around his shoulders, doing the same for Adam when he took the spot to Kurt’s other side.

The little group explained what had happened for the benefit of those who had not been able to magically eavesdrop.

“It has to be the influence of all those people he’s been stealing from,” Santana murmured, tapping her finger against her lips. “He was never the steadiest, especially when it came to Kurt, but considering how many brains he’s been hacking, and for how long, he’s bound to have picked up snippets of other people’s thoughts and feelings. It would have just made him even more whacked.”

Tubbington nodded. “I think so too. It was freaky how intense he got the moment Kurt’s name came up. And the way he attacked, just like that?” He snapped his stubby digits in demonstration. “That is not how a stable person reacts to hearing that their ex has moved on with his life.”

A little shudder traveled over Kurt’s body, causing the two loved ones bracketing him to both reach out and touch him with automatic reassurance. “I’ve seen that look before. He had it the time he tried to force me to have sex in the Scandals parking lot. When I pushed him away, he got that same ragey, possessive look. It freaked me out even more then than it does now. It was the first time I ever started to think maybe he didn’t really love me. But unfortunately within a few hours I’d decided it must have been my fault for saying no to him.”

“I wish you’d told me what happened on that night,” Burt said grimly. He had been listening from the kitchen door and he shook his head grimly at his son’s words. “I’d have murdered the little shit if I knew he’d ever laid his hands on you that way. Saved us all a lot of grief.”

Kurt smiled at him. “Maybe, but as much as I appreciate it, I’m glad you didn’t. I wouldn’t have been willing to trade your life, or your freedom, for his.”

“Neither would I,” Adam agreed, nodding respectfully at his father-in-law. “Though I can’t disagree with the sentiment. I didn’t know Kurt then, but I would give anything to have spared him that pain.”

There were murmurings of agreement throughout the group, and Kurt squeezed the two closest to him, touched by how much they all cared.

Burt continued, “The question is, what do we do next? No matter how warped his perception of fact might be, he’s going to be expecting Kurt now.”

“Do we just rush him?” Johnny asked, sounding uncertain. “Before he has time to bring in backup? I mean, he won’t be expecting all of us, right?”

Kurt shook his head. “No, but I don’t trust him not to grab the nearest innocent to use as a shield if he feels threatened. I’d prefer to avoid getting anyone else involved if possible. I think for now, we’ll just stick with our plan. I still want to do that research project I mentioned.”

Adam cocked his head, relieved but also curious. “I rather expected you’d be ready to march right down to the coffee shop and tear his head off.”

“I guess I’ve learned to be more patient since gaining magic,” Kurt told him, taking his hand and giving the matching set of rings on Adam’s left hand a light stroke with his thumb to indicate the other reason for some of that virtue. He looked at Elliott. “Dalton Academy tomorrow?”

Elliott nodded. “I’m in.”

Kurt looked at his husband. If there was going to be a little delay, then maybe, “You want to come?”

Surprised but pleased at the invitation, Adam beamed at him. “Love to. With all I’ve heard, I’m as curious to get a look at that place as you are. And this time, it’ll be my magic that comes in handy. Or have you forgotten that I can render people unnoticeable at will?”

Kurt had indeed forgotten that Adam used to do just that in protection of the Adam’s Apples from less than friendly NYADA peers. He was also delighted that Adam felt up to another adventure so soon, in spite of being emotionally shaken by this last one. “I feel better already.”

THE END

How Much Is That Doggy In The Window?

Title: How Much Is That Doggy In The Window? Fandom: Beetlejuice The Musical Pairings: Beetlejuice/Reader (Gender Neutral) Ratings: Explicit 

It had started innocent enough. The demon had stolen your phone to use all the silly camera filters you had flaunted when taking selfies to post on your social media accounts. He had gotten pouty and claimed how it wasn’t fair that you weren’t paying enough attention to him when you used that stupid thing, that he wanted to fill your phone of pictures of him. So, you rolled your eyes and handed him the device like a parent to a whining toddler.

Hours rolled by before you managed to wrench the phone away from him. He pissed and moaned about it for awhile but eventually forgot about it and got distracted by something else in another room of the house, leaving you to see the damage left on your poor SD card. You scrolled through your camera roll, impressed and horrified at the amount of pictures you had to flip through. Then something caught your eye.

All of them had been tests of every single filter. It started off with simple stars and funny faces. But then the consistency changed to one chosen filter. Over and over again.

Dozens of pictures were Beetlejuice using that tried-and-true dog filter. Floppy ears, big tongue sticking out. He even had made a small video of the added sound effects too. Cautiously, you opened the file. It was almost too cartoonish for your blood. He pretended to pant and whine like a little puppy, with a small ‘awoo!’ leaving his lips. Your eyes widened a bit at the humiliating blackmail you now had stored on your phone, your sides nearly splitting at how hard you first laughed.

But, you were intrigued.

[Continue Reading or Read on AO3!]

When you next went to the store to pick something up, you happened to pick up a gift for Beetlejuice along with his usual snack hoard: a nice black collar. You had stopped at the kiosk just outside the storefront where the cart return after something special caught your eye. It would be the perfect icing on the cake for your little scheme.

Coming home was met with the usual fanfare of “GIMME, GIMMIE, GIMMIE!” as he clamored to grab the bag of treats he’d been craving. He snarled like an annoyed raccoon and snatched the bag before you could say anything, his grubby hands rifling through as he debated on helping you unload the rest of the groceries. His fingertips touched something unfamiliar, something not a Zagnut bar or a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. Curious, he pulled it out and instantly dropped the rest of the bag.

Before you could chastise him about cleaning up his mess, you paused and followed his gaze. You tried to hide your smirk as you saw his eyes scan over the object.

“H-hey, uh, what is this?” he choked out, normal raspiness shot up just a pinch.

He had sucked in his lower lip and was biting it pensively, his eyes wide while the familiar green colours dripped off him and ebbed into a dark pink. Beetlejuice was like a goddamn moodring. You knew that this was getting to him.

Playing dumb, you peered over his shoulder and looked at the collar, reading the engraved nametag in the shape of a bone. Your eyebrow raised and your grin grew.

“Oh, that? Looks like it has your name and my contact information. Y’know, if my puppy gets lost.”

Beetlejuice yelped, jumping a foot in the air like someone had stabbed him with a hot poker. He gripped onto the collar for dear life and looked at you with utter shock. His eyes went from you to the collar, collar to you, until he finally stared long enough at the engraving to run his fingers over the letters.

“Yer what…?”

With one swift motion, you had plucked the strap out of his hand and secured it around his neck. He hadn’t resisted it but was watching your every move with wide-eyed disbelief. You watched him swallow dryly, his Adam’s apple bobbing against the collar. Eventually, you pulled away and watched him scamper into the bathroom to gaze into the mirror to see how it looked. You could see from your position that he was looking himself over, stroking the rough fabric of the collar as he turned his head from side to side.

Beetlejuice wore that thing every goddamn day after that.

So, you upped the ante. The next purchase was something you had to buy off the internet after some extensive research on your part. You knew the gross man would rifle through the package as soon as it hit your porch. This one was a bigger shocker than the last.

In the package came a set: a soft pair of floppy dog ears that could be attached to one’s hair with clips and an equally soft, curly tail attached to a plug. Now, Beetlejuice wasn’t a naive little virgin who went into Spencer’s gifts to giggle at dildos (he only laughed at the dick shaped foods, okay? Those are hilarious and nothing you say would change his mind on that.) He was a demon. A lustful one that you had caught masturbating in every corner of your goddamn house. You knew he wasn’t dumb when it came to what that tail implied.

His hands were shaking when he came to you, the two clips in hand with the tail left in the box. Beetlejuice extended his arms out and opened his fists up, batting his eyes at you.

“Hm?” you grunted softly, pretending to not know what he wanted.

“Could you… uh, put these in my hair? The metal always gets tangled if I try to put ‘em in.”

“Y’know, I would. If someone used their manners.”

You crossed your arms and looked expectantly at him. He bit his lower lip again and hunched slightly, eyes round and helpless as he looked at you.

“C’mon. Please?”

Satisfied, you smiled and took them from his hands. Getting them in that messy rat’s nest that was his hair was a pain at first but you finally pulled away to look at the sight of those perfect puppy ears flopped over. You commanded him to shake his head back and forth to ensure they wouldn’t slip out and he happily obliged.

He even let out a playful little pant.

The amusement ran through you just as much as the sudden arousal. Seeing him so playful and into this was enough to get to you. To say that was completely his fetish was a lie - you liked when Beetlejuice was a flirt. And now he was your pup! Your gaze soon fell to the box behind him.

“There’s supposed to be another piece to that set,” you said flatly, gesturing for him to bring it to you.

That made Beetlejuice pause. Nervously, he retrieved the tail and placed it in your hands, waiting for what would come next. Would you demand that he put it in himself? Or…

You could see the worry in his eyes and let one of your hands trail across his jawline. He melted into your touch and smiled softly. The collar jingled with his movement and he blushed at the noise. It wasn’t like the outspoken creature to act so shy. But it was cute. You could tell this was a new ballgame for him. Perhaps he had always had this kink but no one to play with. You’d have to ask sometime. Preferably a time that wasn’t when you were eagerly ready to shove a plug up your boyfriend’s ass.

You knew to go slow with this. Beetlejuice was apprehensive and you didn’t exactly have the previous experience of this to know if you’d be doing it right. Now he was sitting at the end of your bed, listening to you run the warm water to clean the object of his fancy. When you came back, you retrieved the lube from your nightstand and coated the toy generously.

Beetlejuice gulped before he began to peel off his clothing piece by piece. Dirty stripes hit your floor along with the clinking suspenders that fell off his form easily. You smiled at the sight of his plush body now exposed - well, exposed as much as one could be with the carpet of mossy hair that covered him from head to toe. Wanting to ease him into the situation more, you placed your hand on his belly and rubbed circles against his skin. You felt him shudder for a moment, his shoulders relaxed and his body stopped feeling so damn tense.

“You remember the safeword, right? If you get too nervous?” you tenderly whispered into his ear as you laid him back.

“Brigadoon,” he whispered back, a scowl on his face.

That got a laugh from you, even as you helped him out of his pants. You could see how hard his cock was, reacting to all of this teasing. The head was already beaded with precum. But you wouldn’t relieve him until you got to play with your puppy. You rolled him gently onto his stomach and he instinctively pushed his ass into the air, resting on his knees as his ass spread enough for you. Crawling behind him, you admired the view of the waiting demon. Your hand rested on his plump cheek, spreading it wider for you to slip the plug in. His hands curled into the bedsheets and he let out a whorish moan.

“Good boy,” you commended, rubbing the tail before you slipped off the bed to stand in front of him.

Beetlejuice was already huffing and puffing, wagging the tail this way and that as he got used to the feeling of the toy inside of him. He let out a groan as he shifted, cock dribbling precum onto the sheets. As you stood before him, you tilted his head up with both hands cupping his face. Your thumbs rubbed at the stubble, admiring the sight of the normally cocky demon now a puddle beneath you.

“Who’s my good boy?”

A slow, croaky bark. You smiled and pet him lovingly to show the answer had pleased you. Another bark. This time it was confident and excited.

“Thassa good boy!” you cooed in that silly way humans babytalk animals.

Hands scratched behind his ‘ears’ before they rubbed at his chest playfully. He giggled before breaking out into heavier, excited panting. You were delighted to see him so into this. Knowing that you were fulfilling your boyfriend’s cute fetish was enough to make your heart swell. And continue to arouse you. However, tonight wasn’t about you. Tonight was making sure that Beetlejuice knew that you loved and accepted him for all his kinks. You would make sure that he’d cum.

So, you sat back down on the bed and let him snuffle and sniff you playfully before he rested his head in your lap. You played with his hair and swiftly moved down his backside, stopping at his tailbone before repeating each stroke. He loved it. The affection pleased him, certainly, but having you coo over him was enough to make that hardness press against the bed. You noticed that he was moving his hips enough to rub his stiff prick against the firmness of the mattress under his weight to get himself off.

That made you tsk.

“Awww, pup, are you feeling okay?” you mocked. “You seem to be whimpering so much! Are you sick?”

The colour burned on Beetlejuice’s face so much that it shifted the pink tint into a darker hue. He let out a whine and looked up at you. Those big ol’ eyes watched your every move as you pushed on his side to let you see what he needed. You saw how <>hard that swollen erection really was, one hand already tracing down his happy trail to reach it. He groaned in delight at your touch. He needed you to play with him. After all, puppies needed attention and love!

“Poor boy! Here, lemme help you…”

Your hand wrapped around his length and he whined. It was torture to go so slow. Beetlejuice always liked to jump right on you and hump you like a dog. And now that he was your little doggy, you were going to make sure he was just as satisfied as all those times before. You couldn’t help but tease him a bit more than usual. That plug would be enough stimulation to make up for it.

Slowly, you rubbed him. Let him buck into your hand as much as he wanted. All those noises were so goddamn cute that you had to let him work for this. You had gotten him everything he wanted and now you’d reap the benefits. It was a delightfully rewarding show as your demon fucked your hand like the needy dog he was. You watched the curly tail bob, his ears flopping slightly as he thrust.

“There we go, hm? You like that, pup?” You knew your teasing would spur him on. To move faster and faster. He was huffing again, tongue lolled out of his mouth as he pushed harder. “C’mon, be a dear. Be a good boy and get out all that frustration.”

Beetlejuice growled, eyes fluttering as he worked faster for his climax. He needed it. He fucking needed this! All this goddamn teasing. It had been a week since the collar. The tail in his ass made him feel humiliated and adored all at the same time. Just like the way you were watching him get off. He normally would have been a brat about having to do so much for this orgasm but you had been so nice to him about indulging this kink. While he didn’t like to gush about how thankful he was to have you in his life, it was moments like these that really showed it. The desperation in his eyes was flooded with adoration. How much he loved you and wanted to prove that he really was a good boy.

And you indulged him by stroking him harder. One hand jerked his cock eagerly while your free hand reached to grasp his sack. He shuddered and moaned whorishly at that. You made sure to massage his heavy, swinging balls to urge him to cum. It was almost your silent permission for him to.

The demon didn’t last long after that. Rope after thick rope of cum launched onto the sheets underneath him, making a mess of the bed. He tossed his head back and howled loudly. You watched his cock twitch, your hand milking him for every last drop before you pulled away and allowed him to collapse. Beetlejuice was panting softly before he rolled onto his back to look up at your adoring face.

“Th-thanks… I, uh, owe ya,” he groaned softly.

Your lips met the skin of his forehead in a tender gesture before you sidled up next to him and spooned the chubby demon.

“Don’t mention it, babe. I’m glad you like your presents,” came the giggle from you.

Playfully, he wrapped you up in a bear hug and let you lay on his chest. You knew that he’d be getting his revenge later, but you decided to savour this peaceful moment in your pup’s embrace.

45.

“New York is always cold so his padded jacket for when we land?” Jen held up the jacket to me “erm yes, put it in the case. This is why I was reluctant in going to New York with Junior because of this packing, I just want to make sure I have everything” folding his sleepsuit “I understand, get a nanny” side eyeing Jen “sure, I rather get my mom. I just want to make sure I have everything with me, is Ant coming? I am sure Chris said he is” I am sure he mentioned it to me “he is, he will be meeting us on the jet. I think it is sweet you are bringing Chris with you, you are both going to look so good together. I cannot wait to see the slay, nobody really knows that you are coming. I just left it as that, Yusef, Adam will be there. Have you seen the outfit Adam has done? I think you are going to be shook because I was” shaking my head “I really had no say in it but if it got you shook then it will have me shook” taking the diapers from Jen “ok this case is just for Junior. The prince must be treated like one, I think I have packed his room. The hotel room does have a crib right?” I asked Jen “it has that yes, it’s an apartment, I just wanted to ask is Chris ok? I know it’s been a few weeks but he seems ever so quiet, doesn’t go out or anything” closing the suitcase “erm, he is ok. He doesn’t sleep but then again since when does Chris like to sleep, but it’s something I am trying to not make noticeable that I am watching him, but his behaviour is different. Hopefully I can just spend some time with him, with everything going on I am just leaving Chris with Junior most of the time while I am doing the clothing line he was supposed to do. I was doing his thing, he seems not interested in things. Black Pyramid is his” zipping up the suitcase “but Jen, that night in Hawaii. If you heard the argument and how he was shouting in my face, I wasn’t scared of him but it was awful, I think he even knew it. I don’t hold it against him though” getting up from the position “it’s been weeks since that happen, he can’t be still thinking about it” looking at Jen all wide eyed “Chris is very sensitive under all of that, I told you. If I didn’t sign with his label he would have took it personal, I know there is something different with him and I am watching him. I will be in the nursery if you need me just put all of my things in the rest of suitcases” let me check on the boys.

Poking my head from around the door, I like to sneak up on Chris to see what he does. My smile grew on my face, he is doing what I told him. Tummy time, Chris has Junior’ play mat out and Junior is actually lifting his head up. Chris is on the floor himself on his tummy facing Junior, I think this is what is making Junior hold his head up “you keep on smiling at me little nigga, you in a good mood today” Junior shakily lowered his head down, I think he is staring at Chris’ hand “enough of that now, I think you did well today” Chris carefully placed Junior onto his back “he’s getting good with holding his head now, his lazy self” walking into the nursery “he is, I think doing it everyday is working” Chris got up from the floor “you want me to pack anything for you? Also can you dress him for me, I need to do my hair” touching Chris’ hairy cheeks “that needs coming off, before the Met Gala you have to take it off. It makes you look like an old man” Chris chuckled “I will take it off or get Yusef to braid it” squinting my eyes at him “don’t be so ugly with that, dress him please” I will leave Chris to it, he doesn’t need me to watch over him at all.

We are trying to get to New York without anybody knowing which can be done, as long as we don’t walk into any airport, Jen has hopefully sorted that out for us. We should just be going into the private hanger and leaving that way but JFK airport are always uptight about that shit, hopefully it will go just fine “I can’t wait to look after Junior while you both go and give people meltdowns on the carpet, this is going to be Chris’ first Met Gala. I am sure this is not your thing” Jen said from the back “I don’t mind staying in the hotel room” negative Chris is here, looking behind me, Jen poked her lips out “why wouldn’t you want to support your wife, she is about to slay. She is going to look so beautiful, Adam has even made a white suit for Junior. This is cute for y’all” Chris looked on in confusion “we will discuss on the jet Chris” the SUV came to a halt, seeing Ant already here and Rich too “is Junior still asleep in the car seat?” I asked Jen “erm” Jen said “yes he is” picking up the blanket “place that over his car seat just in case” Rich opened my car door “boss lady” Rich said “another adventure” slipping out of the car, reaching inside the SUV and grabbing the baby changing bag “with a little baby which is different, is Chris getting him?” Rich questioned “yes he will be” I will leave that to Jen and Chris.

Walking onto the Jet “hi everyone” Cass, Frank, Ant already sat in their seats “got my best suit ready Rihanna” Cass spat “you better have” placing the changing bag on the table “good seeing Rihanna all healed up looking well” turning around, Ant hugged me “same to you, nice you could come with us” Chris finally walked onto the jet with the car seat “where do you want him?” Chris asked “put him on the seat next to me” stepping back “we have a new passenger this time, is he asleep?” Ant said trying to look “yes he is, I am glad because he would be playing up. It’s going to be his first outing with us” Chris pulled the blanket off of the car seat “drooling like his dad” Ant said, Chris hit his arm “where do I sit then?” here awkward Chris goes “across me” I said “next to me Christopher, come on. You love me” Jen said behind him “come on, shuffle in” I sat down trying to not laugh but Chris is not impressed.

I am glad Junior has not woken up once, even when we took off “so I want to hear about why Maurice got a white suit too?” Chris hasn’t forgotten “ask your new wife” I pointed at Jen “tell us more Jen” Ant said, Jen cleared her throat “I get nervous when all these men are staring at me, well gather around. All of you, might as well tell you all now. I have an itinerary, I did it because of my godson needs all the love and care at the same time” the bodyguards gathered around “so the Met Gala is tomorrow, as you all know. The setting is elegant so everyone dress their best, Robyn and Chris will be the last to arrive, it’s a surprise thing. Rich and Cass, you will stay with Chris and Robyn. Ant and Frank stay with me, I will be holding Junior. He won’t be going to the carpet walk but he will be the first baby to ever go there. I will be getting him from the back. Adam, Robyn’ designer has made him a suit just like his dad so it’s matching. That is all but we need to make sure it’s tight, as I know Junior can get very upset I just hope we can get through it fine” smiling wide “my son is already a model, he about to slay!” I wonder what Chris is thinking because he is very quiet.

Junior is awake and ready to cause havoc, Junior is staring at me and thinking who the hell is holding me “you need to get used to it baby, it’s only uncle Ant” Ant smiled turning him around so Junior is facing him, reaching over and pulling his Gucci top down. I love this outfit on him, I know Joyce put this on him already but he has grown into it more “your mommy told me you are now three months, you’re getting big now” Junior has not cried yet at all “Jen must have really kept Chris warm, she done put his ass to sleep” Cass said stood up looking down “I just love how Jen is sleeping on Chris’ shoulder, he is comfortable so it’s whatever” picking my phone up from the table “did your dad put this on you? Repping blood gang in Gucci” Cass said to Junior, taking a picture of both Chris and Jen asleep, captioning the picture ‘Jen putting Chris’ ass to sleep without the ass part, it’s like magic!’ pressing send on the picture smiling, this is so funny to me. Placing my phone down looking back at the men just cooing over Junior, he’s not cried yet “he’s really got a lot of you in him, this is how you know he already a mommys boy” Ant turned Junior back around “you want me to take the picture” I said taking Ant’ phone from him “please” holding his phone up “Junior” clicking my fingers, Junior has noticed his laces on his sneakers and is pulling at them, reaching over and moving his hand away. Junior lifted his head up “my handsome baby” I took the picture before he ended up doing something else “thank you” passing Ant’ phone back to him.

Picking up the baby changing bag “you seen Maurice now” Chris said from behind me, turning around. Seeing my son with a matching red Gucci bandana around his forehead and his hood up “it took four men to do that? What have you done to my baby, he looks so sad” he is so confused with life “he looks dope” seeing Chris smile makes me happy, shaking my head laughing “he is really a mini you now, come on. Let’s get off this jet” it really took four men to put a bandana on my son, Rich walked back onto the jet “you want me to get the bag” shaking my head “Rich, come here. Take this picture” Chris shouted, let me leave them alone. Stepping off the jet, it feels nice to be back in New York because it has been so long. I get to see Noella too “you had fun sleeping on my husband?” I said to Jen “I saw the picture! Bitch” Jen spat, I chuckled “well it was funny, you looked way too comfortable there” the driver opened the door to the SUV and I just climbed into the back.

Who would have thought, Rihanna would be in the back of an SUV breastfeeding, I don’t really care because I enjoy it. It’s that bond you feel with your child “tell me Chris, how do you feel having your wife on your record label? Must be weird, I think it’s such a good idea, Fenty Brown Music, the money you both will generate. These new singers you can both mentor, give it ten years. Y’all going to be something every artist will want to be on, I know my girl. I think I can squeeze one more album, I am predicting she will be pregnant after she finishes this tour, she will record an album pregnant too. I think after one more album she will be done, I don’t blame you. But there is so much more you both can do by changing the name up, best idea. I don’t know why you even second guessed the contract” I love Jen with all my heart, she is just so loving to Chris “she deserves more you see” Chris mumbled “but think of it this way, when you put money into your project or hers, the money you gain back will be more than you put into it. All that money will be coming back to you both and your kids. Fenty Brown Beauty, Music, Clothes and maybe Fenty Brown Modelling, I mean why the fuck not” Jen needs to not put any ideas in my head “look at you bitch, child on your breast grinning in the back. I see it happening” I wish Chris was more excited about it, he seems to be emotionless about a lot.

We made it to New York and the apartment with no paparazzi at all, hearing Junior cry as I got out of the SUV “it’s all clear here” Rich said, turning around to Jen “I am here, no need to cry” taking Junior from Jen “just make sure the things come up” Jen rushed ahead of me, I just want to get on the elevator and go up “no pictures, sorry” Cass said to someone, walking by Jen and into building “where is Chris?” looking behind me, he is slowly making his way in “you got his pacifier?” I asked him, Junior won’t stop now “erm nah, Jen you got it?” Jen looks already stressed “oh god, do I. Is it in this bag?” she said looking “bingo, here” she pulled the pacifier out of the bag “I know Junior, let us get in the Apartment and you can do what you like” placing the pacifier in his mouth “he is making all of the noise now” Chris said with his hands in his pockets “thank god it was only just now” kissing Junior’ forehead.

Jen held the apartment door open for me as I walked in “welcome home bitch!!” Yusef half shouted “New York, New York!” Yusef spat holding out two wine glasses “it’s a celebration, you can hold it. One arm for the baby and the other arm to hold the wine glass” I have missed him so much, taking the wine from Yusef “how weird it is to see you like this, with a little bundle of joy. He is Gucci’d down” Yusef moved around me “awww, he has taken the Fenty eyes. I live for the eyes, but welcome and who bought along wolverine?” drinking the wine and turning around slowly “I take that as a compliment thanks” Chris retorted “honey, no. What is you doing or what is she doing to you?” I gasped “me? I have done nothing, he did it to himself. He has just grown it out” I don’t know what to say “has he grown everything out?” Chris busted out laughing, Yusef making him laugh “suppose, I might need help with it. Robyn ain’t complained” Chris shrugged “it is overgrown too, he wanted it braided. You could help?” Yusef pulled a face at me “only if he has a shower beforehand, I don’t deal with that prior, sir” Chris is actually smiling and laughing, he should hang with Yusef more.

It’s just a whole different feeling and vibe being in New York “I must say Junior Brown, I got the same Gucci outfit as you. You should have said to me so we could have matched, I just can’t get over it. This is Chris Brown and Rihanna’ child, look at him” Adam smiled “it’s amazing how far you have come, a mother, a mentor, a singer, a politician to these models that can’t model, a designer. I am proud of you and when he grows up he is going to be very proud of his background, his parents have paved the way for other artists” I cooed out “Adam, that is so sweet. Stop it, no need to be nice because of a baby being here” that was so nice of him “let’s raise a glass to the new member of the team, Junior Brown. Will probably make life difficult when dressing his mother but let’s have it” I giggled as I raised my glass “I want to steal him, just his chubby self. He is beautiful” Yusef gushed, I am proud of both of my babies.

Junior is asleep and I want to have some private time with Chris “can you stay here while Chris and I go down to the bar?” I said as I walked back into the living area “well I got Yusef with me, of course” Jen said “what if he wants his mother’ breast? You still got good boobs you know, they perky still” I can’t deal with the compliments “stop it, come let’s go” tapping Chris’ shoulder “wolverine breezy, protect your woman at all costs. That could be some cosplay thing you both could do, have fun you two. No sex in the elevator now” Rolling my eyes at Yusef smiling, I haven’t got dressed up. We are only downstairs at the bar, just feel like drinking a little bit. I won’t breastfeed for a while either since I have been drinking “we still need to get that ring tightened” I nudged him waiting for the elevator “uh yeah, I don’t want to take it off now” he looked down at the ring.

Getting on my tiptoes “come down to me” I want to take a selfie with him “you don’t like my hairy look, no” he is so annoying, placing my arm around his neck. Chris finally bought his face down to me a little, pressing a kiss to his cheek and taking the picture “was that hard, I am going to write a cute message to you and you have to read it once I have wrote it” shuffling away from Chris “is it even a nice picture?” Chris questioned, I shrugged as I started writing the caption out first on Instagram ‘The love of my life’ pressing send on the picture, backing out of Instagram and going onto my messages to write a little something out to him ‘I love my husband so much, forever keeping me on my toes. Supporting me, being there for our son. You are not only there physically but mentally for us, you protect us, love us both’ the elevator doors opened so I stopped typing “you get off first” I said, he is trying to look. He slowly walked off the elevator, finishing off the message ‘I thank god that he gave me a man like you to love me, I never wanted to have perfect because nobody is perfect but in my eyes you are perfect to me and I would honestly do anything for you. I know you Chris and I have known you all my life to know that something is upsetting you, I could say it verbally but I want you to look on Instagram and see how proud I am of you, you could look like wolverine but it doesn’t change your heart and how much I love you. I will do anything to make you feel better’ pressing send “don’t look, let’s get a drink first” we can sit somewhere more private.

Drinking my Corona, he is reading silently and has been for a while. He has flicked back onto the message and Instagram picture twice, Chris moved his phone down and placed his hand over his eyes “Chris” placing my hand behind his head, running my fingers through his hair. He sat back on the couch, turning myself a little on the couch “why have you got upset Chris? It’s nothing you don’t know, you know I love you. I get it that in the past, maybe this would have been different and I know I would have been different to this situation but I see our son and I see you, why should I let something like that ruin us. Initially I was angry but it’s done with but you have been so different, you have been so down. Very sensitive and have let it continue, why?” I wish he would speak “who would have thought a nigga like me would marry you, my friends said I put a curse on you and I was like nah, she put a curse on me but it was never that. We just loved each other, you are so beautiful and you have done so much for yourself. Junior will be proud but I just feel like I didn’t succeed to your level until now, until I got with you and married. Then I treated you so badly, my anger took over me in Hawaii and I am still trying to figure out what made me switch back to that. With you, you have moved on. Since being a mother your growth has come through but for me, I did that and went back to that Chris. Then I did take off my rings myself” I could have told him that myself “the only time I will ever take my wedding ring off is if you cheat on me with another woman, I married you and I married for life Chris. You was selfish for that” swallowing back the lump in my throat, I don’t want to cry “I knew you did it, I know my own husband and I know your fingers. I know your body, I know you and I knew you did it. I just wish you said it, it upsets me yes but I don’t like this.”

I sighed out “you need to understand this, understand these words when I say to you that you have done so much. Selling out Stadiums, clothing lines selling out, records going to number one. Together we do better because that shit is called being a power couple, understand this Chris. You can’t keep doing this, I want you to embrace this shit. I want you to step into my world a little, tomorrow you going to act like you should. You’re a king in my eyes, this is why you should hold your head up high. I don’t want this, I want you to sleep. Stop thinking what you did, you shouted at me and it happened. I have moved on and so should you baby” he really needs to stop thinking so deeply into it “you really have changed, Maurice has changed you” he said, grabbing the Corona bottle as I laughed “you know I would be half way across the world to ignore you after that night, we had to change. When I marry, I marry for life and I will do everything and anything to make that last” drinking my Corona, I hope he can pick himself up and stop thinking such shit.

The Mark

When Mike was seven, he wanted to be a Pirate. He practiced his pirate talk daily- one could never be too ready and conquered the living room daily after school. 

When Mike was eight, he wanted to be a firefighter. He imagined riding around in one of those big red fire trucks, sirens blazing.   

When Mike was ten he wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer. He decided that late one night when he heard his mom crying and his dad talking about money. He figured with his brain he could hurry up and become one right away so he could help. 

When Mike was eleven, he became an accessory to a crime. His father became adept in using Mike’s incredible gift to “outsmart” unsuspecting people out of their money. After a short learning curve, as his dad had called it, Mike got really good at sleight of hand, the bump, and lift plus a variety of other methods of pickpocketing. 

By the time Mike was sixteen, he was living with his grandmother. His mom had lost her battle with cancer and his dad, well he got nicked on a hustle that went wrong. After that, Mike was going to live his life on the straight and narrow. He even promised his mom that before she died. And for a while he did. 

For the next several years, Mike followed all the rules, worked odd jobs to help his grandmother, and was on track for law school and an honest career. But sometimes you can't walk away from fate, and fate called Mike back into the life like a Siren's song. When he got kicked out of law school, Mike found himself back into the “family business”. But he quickly discovered needed to up his game if he wanted to make ends meet and stay out of jail. With laser-like focus, well when he wasn't high that is, Mike honed his skills. He moved beyond simple pickpocketing, into the world of hustling people in pool and cards. His grandmother was not pleased. 

“One day you're going to get caught Michael, just like your father,” she’d say when he came back, after being gone for days on end. 

“I won't get caught Grammy. This is temporary; only until I find something better,” he promised, trying to ease her worry. 

“That's what your father used to say,” she’d sighed. 

“I know, but I mean it. I don't want to live this way forever. It’s just until I get enough to go back to school.” 

She walked away, unbelieving. But Mike meant it. He didn't want to end up like his father.

Finish on AO3

Mike stepped into the Atlantic City hotel, ready to try out his newly acquired skills. He had practiced his “poker face”, became comfortable with the routine of dealer switches, regulars and the like. Dressed in jeans and an NYU tee, he was the picture of a young college kid, who had no idea what he was doing. Mike sat at a blackjack table, played casually, lost more than he won (on purpose), and sipped on a beer. All the while, he eyed the room. When the next dealer came to take over, Mike got up and moved to another table. New dealer, meant new deck. There, he stepped up his game. He still lost some, but when he won, he won big. He played for a while, still eyeing his ultimate prize- the high stakes table. When the dealers switched again, Mike wandered to the bar and settled in to look for potential “marks”. 

Casinos attract typically four types of people. The partiers- those looking for a fun night or weekend. The retirees- spending their pensions one coin at a time. The die-hard regulars who cash their paychecks at the cage. Then there were the power players- wheeling and dealing with cash that had more zeros at the end than anyone in his family had ever seen. Mike was just getting ready to order another beer when a man caught his eye. The stranger reeked of importance, wealth and walked in like he owned the place. He also happened to be drop-dead gorgeous. Brown hair, dark eyes, he wore a well-tailored suit that was snug in all the right places. Mike’s dick twitched, but he ignored it and continued to look for an unsuspecting target. 

Thirty minutes passed and Mike still hadn't moved. His eyes kept drifting to the beautiful man who was schmoozing at the high stakes poker tables. Mike couldn't help himself; he was distracted. And when a seat opened next to him, he walked over to it and occupied the vacancy. That earned him a few pointed looks, but he didn't care. 

“Sure you're up to this Junior? This is a man’s game,” a sultry voice slithered deep and low next to him. 

Mike turned. The object of his apparent (if his quickly hardening dick was any indication), affection, stared at him with molten chocolate eyes. It took a moment for Mike to realize he was supposed to answer. 

“I think I can hold my own,” he finally breathed out.

Those same eyes crinkled at the corners, and a small smile upturned the mystery man’s lips.

And so, they played. 

Counting cards wasn’t difficult; counting cards while trying to ignore the heat coming from the man next to him, proved to be a bit more challenging. Mike was surprised to find himself not winning as much as he thought he would. It seemed every time he believed he had the right combination someone- who was he kidding, the gorgeous man next to him, would make a play that would make no sense. Not only did the moves cost Mike, but the man as well. An hour later, Mike was almost down to what he came in with- which was not much. Two hands later, (two losses later), he rose from the table with a grunt and decided to call it a night. 

“Maybe it just wasn’t your night, kid.” The words were uttered flippantly. 

Mike looked down at the man who was trying to hide a sly smile. 

He stole a quick glance at the man's dwindling chips. “Doesn't look like it’s yours either,” he retorted. 

“Maybe. Maybe not. But I’m not the one leaving the table.” 

“Whatever dude.”

“Don’t call me...”

“Ante up,” the dealer interrupted, as he attempted to move the game along. 

Mike shook his head and rounded the corner towards the exit, when that smooth voice once again reverberated near his ear. 

“You should be thanking me, you know.” 

Mike turned around to see that damn smile taunting him. Mike wanted to smack it off him or kiss it off. He decided to stick with being angry. 

“Seriously? For what?” he balked. 

“For making sure you didn't caught.” 

A frisson of panic ran across Mike’s nerve endings. “Caught doing what?” he countered defensively. 

“Let me buy you a beer.” Mike noticed he didn't answer the question. 

“What?” 

“I said, let me buy you a beer. Unless you want to continue having this conversation while security is watching us.” 

“Why are they watching us?” He asked, nerves making his voice a little higher than normal. 

“Well technically they are watching you, but…” 

Mike’s eyes went wide, and he looked around panicked. 

“Easy, now,” the man soothed. 

Mike felt a hand at his elbow. They walked to the back of the bar where there was a row of booths. When the beers arrived, Mike took a careful sip, and eyes the stranger warily. Older, maybe early thirties, definitely a professional, not a cop. Mike relaxed. 

“So, you going to tell me what you meant earlier?” Mike challenged remembering he was supposed to be mad. 

Mike was met with a quirked eyebrow. “I can tell when someone is trying to cheat.” 

“Are you accusing me of...” 

The man leaned in and whispered, “Counting cards?” And damn if that devilish smile didn't make a reappearance. The one that had Mike staring at those plush lips with thoughts of nipping and or… Then his brain caught up. 

Mike schooled his features. “I don't know what you’re talking about.” 

“Uh huh. Hate to tell you this, but I'm really good at calling bullshit.” 

“What are you, a lawyer or something?” 

“Let’s just say, I know a hustler when I see one.” 

“And is that what you think I am?” Mike feigned, innocently. 

“I don't know, are you?” His tone was light, almost flirtatious and Mike felt heat creep down his spine and pool into his gut. 

“Maybe,” Mike flirted back. Or maybe you’ve got me pegged all wrong.” 

“I’m rarely wrong.” And the way those words came out, strong, sure, forceful. Mike couldn't stop himself from goading him further. 

“So says the man who lost money on purpose, because he thought someone was cheating.” 

“I didn't think, I knew.” 

“Can you prove it?” It came out as a dare. 

The man laughed. It was warm and throaty. “Are you sure you want to go up against me, one on one?” 

Well, that was a loaded statement. Mike watched as he took a long pull from his beer; his eyes trapped in the bob of his adam's apple as he swallowed. Hmmm… 

“I’ll take that bet.”

One year later 

Mike was frustrated. It shouldn't be this damn hard, he thought. Harvey was sitting there, looking all relaxed, while Mike was still trying to figure out how to tie a simple bow tie that Harvey insisted he wear. 

“How does it look?” he asked, defeated. 

“Like a three-year-old tied it. Come here.” 

Mike turned and tried not to squirm while Harvey deftly tied a perfect knot. When finished, he leaned in and brushed his lips softly against Mike’s. Mike moaned and deepened the kiss. But before they could go to much further, the limo stopped. 

“Later,” Harvey whispered, before pecking his lips one more time. “We’re here.” 

“And where’s here?” 

Harvey hadn't told him. Just laid out a tux and said to get ready. Harvey exited the limo and waited for Mike to get out. Mike looked up at the bright neon lights and groaned. 

“I can't believe you brought me here,” Mike grumbled. 

“Why not? It's where we first met.” 

“You know I’m banned for like eternity,” Mike whined. 

“Not tonight. Tonight, they are willing to make an exception- as long as you don't go near a card table.” 

Mike smiled and grasped Harvey’s hand giving it a quick squeeze. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

Harvey squeezed back. “Yes, and I love you more. Happy Anniversary, baby.”

🌷 (DO IT!)

[ANGST DRABBLES (or starters, if requested)] (still accepting)

🌷- My muse is forced to come forward and admit a terrible secret they have been hiding from yours.

{{OH I’LL DO IT, ALRIGHT. ( ͡O ͜ʖ ͡O)  Under readmore for length cuz I got mega carried away. :,,) And yet I still couldn’t end it properly. *rips out my own hair*}}

-

Making a round through the crew quarters in the wee hours of the morning before caffeinating herself up in preparation for the day’s work had become somewhat of a habit for Reyna.  A minor ritual, even.  Cracking open every door in turn to ensure her Rogues were all safe and sleeping soundly gave her peace of mind.  And the various sprawled forms and snores she was met with brought a warm smile every time.  However, the newest addition had a pretty eclectic sleep schedule; awake far more often than he was asleep.  And in the rare instances she did mange to catch him sleeping, it was generally fitful.  K’ hadn’t taken kindly to her brief intrusions initially, chasing her out with a lot of growling and snapping that fouled her own mood.  But he’d toned it down to the occasional scowl or a cocked brow in recent weeks, which was decent enough progress, she supposed.  Baby steps was better than nothing.

Before she knew it, Reyna found herself at his door.  It was the last, right at the very end of the hall; a purposeful pick so he was less inclined to mingle with the rest of the crew.  He still wasn’t all that warm with them, but he was starting to become civil, at least.  Except towards Orendi, who he continued to avoid like the plague where he could and greeted with distasteful lip curls when he couldn’t, even after she’d ceased bothering him in the middle of the night some time ago.  Mostly.  By comparison, he seemed to enjoy working with Pendles - learning the ropes to help out with his business here and there, and participating in some sort of underground fighting ring or another while bearing the EE logo on his jacketed back (she kept meaning to attend one of his matches sometime, but had to keep taking hard passes due to work or sheer exhaustion) - quite a bit on the side.  And (contrary to his rebuttals on the matter) he was developing a budding friendship with Shayne.  Something she quietly but wholeheartedly encouraged, even if she found the majority of music they listened to together at full blast terrible.  To each their own, and all that.

Reyna sighed, bracing herself in case he was in an especially terrible mood before entering.  The room itself was rather barren; no posters or photographs to speak of, and almost devoid of any knickknacks.  If not for the boots by the door, jacket slung over the back of the desk chair, sunglasses on the nightstand, and bin half full of crumpled paper and jerky wrappers, she might have thought it unoccupied.  She wasn’t entirely sure if it wasn’t tonight as her eye swept across the darkened room, since he wasn’t slumped over his desk, datapad under his cheek.  Which was how she found him most often.  That said, he did tend to crash on the common room couch in lieu of his own bed, so maybe he was…? Nope.  He was actually in bed for a change.  Not laying down, though.  Instead, he sat with his back pressed flush against the headboard and face buried against his knees, which had been drawn up tight to his chest.  She had to do a double take.  No way… was he upset? Despite her concern at the sight, Reyna found herself hesitating.  K’ seldom showed any emotion unrelated to anger or outright apathy.  And when he did, he’d hastily attempt to reestablish his cold barrier or play it off.  She’d managed to needle out quite a few softer moments from the kid, but none even remotely like this.  Cautiousness aside, she wasn’t entirely sure how to approach him if he truly was feeling upset.  Or if she should even bother in the first place, figuring that he was even more likely to snap and demand to be left alone; just clam up all the more and undo all of her progress in one swift move.  But it was the shaking of his shoulders and the muffled sob - so quiet she almost missed it - that made the decision for her.  Screw it.  He was under her care and part of her crew.  There was absolutely no way she could leave him alone like this in good conscience.

She raised a fist, rapping it gently against the wall to claim his attention.  “Hey,” she called out softly.  He’d stiffened instantly, shoulders taut, and probably would’ve gone entirely still if he was able to put a lid on his shuddering breaths.  Her own trepidation mounted but there was no going back now.  For better or worse, she was committed to this now.  “You doing okay?”

The response was a typical one.  But the delivery wasn’t nearly as venomous as it would’ve been any other night.  He also didn’t remove his head from his knees.  “Go away.”

“Sorry, kiddo.  No can do, this time.“ She slipped further into the room, padding over to the bed on soft feet.  After a brief moment of internal debate, she sat beside him.  The glower he shot her from over his knees was wet and bloodshot.

“I’m not in the mood right now, Valeria.  Get lost before I fry you.”

“Clearly,” she said dryly, casually choosing to ignore the threat he was highly likely to act upon.  “But that’s exactly why I ain’t leaving.  You’re hurting, and I wanna know why.”

“… Is that an order?” he hissed, garnering a frown from from her.  The continued lack of trust despite all the months spent being nothing but accommodating of his temper and mostly courteous of his impossibly high boundaries, all while slowly helping him ease out of his thorny shell, stung.

“No.  It’s not.  I could make it one, but I’d honestly rather not.” She huffed out a sigh, running a hand through her bedraggled crest of hair.   “Look.  It’s completely up to you if you wanna talk or not; I won’t force you to if you’re that adamant on keeping quiet.  That said… I think it’ll do you good to get whatever’s wrong off your chest.  It’s obviously eating you up.”

It took a solid five minutes of heavy silence, but K’ ended up surprising both of them by relenting.  For reasons he wasn’t all too sure of himself.  He gave his knees a squeeze, voice coming out small and hesitant.  Vulnerable.  “I just… I don’t even know who or what I am… I’ve been told I’m a half-baked clone.  And that I’m not; that I’m the original.  But I don’t exactly have much by way of memory to confirm or dispute that either way.  And what little I do have I’m not sure is real, let alone that it even belongs to me.“ Aside from everything that had come after waking up strapped to an operating table a couple of years ago, that is.  The feeling of a hundred billion angry ants running beneath his skin - concentrated primarily around his throbbing right arm - through a haze of pain and lingering anaesthesia remained one of his handful of clearer memories, to date.  Everything that seemed like it had come before that first memory of self-awareness was fragmented and murky, if not outright elusive… So he couldn’t help but question their authenticity.  Especially when they only seemed to rear their heads in his dreams, then faded like morning mist upon waking.  “Not to mention whatever information I pick up keeps leading to dead ends…”

So that was what all his little ventures were about, Reyna realised with a jolt.  He was hopping about the remaining sliver of universe - disappearing on his own, or with his towering guardian in tow, for periods of time upwards of two or three days to a couple of weeks - in search of answers.  That… made some of his pricklier moments make more sense; added some context to them.  When his temper had been more frayed and his words snappier, or he’d been more silent than usual and looking hollow, those were the times his searches had turned up nothing.  And there had been a lot of those.  She kicked herself for not catching on sooner.  For not prying more, regardless if it pissed him off, so he wouldn’t’ve have bottled this negativity up for so long.

K’ swiped an arm across his eyes.  A quick, frustrated motion that only served to pave the way for more unwanted tears that just didn’t seem to want to stop.  Now that he’d started letting this out in the air, he found he couldn’t stop.  Something that alarmed him.  He took pride in how well he hid the chinks in his armour; it kept him safe, prevented him from being hurt further by anybody but himself.  So he couldn’t even begin to fathom why he let the Valkyrie - some woman he’d barely known a few scant months - catch a glimpse of all the weakness he hid behind his stony demeanour.  He felt weak because of it.  Pathetic.  And overall disgusted with himself for letting himself get caught indulging in this moment of weakness.  Another frustrated and ultimately vain attempt was made to clear away his tears.  It did nothing to prevent the crack in his voice either.  “I’m just a broken, fucked up kid with a shitty attitude… All I’ve got going for me are my flames, and I can’t even use those properly.  And to top it all off, I don’t even have a real name; just a goddamn letter and a line.  It’s all NESTS left me with and I fucking hate it; I hate them!“

Donald Trump’s Plan for the Middle East and Syria – Rolling Stone Matt Taibbi https://www.rollingstone.com/politics/politics-news/trump-syria-withdrawal-772177/?fbclid=IwAR1TgcR1XFKOCkTQtTIwRGwwT8yT-JdlrPnyXxo0tb3KnfKsLNtcbddsXXk

So we’re withdrawing troops from the Middle East.

GOOD!

What’s the War on Terror death count by now, a half-million? How much have we spent, $5 trillion? Five-and-a-half?

For that cost, we’ve destabilized the region to the point of abject chaos, inspired millions of Muslims to hate us, and torn up the Geneva Convention and half the Constitution in pursuit of policies like torture, kidnapping, assassination-by-robot and warrantless detention.

It will be difficult for each of us to even begin to part with our share of honor in those achievements. This must be why all those talking heads on TV are going crazy.

Unless Donald Trump decides to reverse his decision to begin withdrawals from Syria and Afghanistan, cable news for the next few weeks is going to be one long Scanners marathon of exploding heads.

“Today’s decision would cheer Moscow, ISIS, and Iran!” yelped Nicole Wallace, former George W. Bush communications director.

“Maybe Trump will bring Republicans and Democrats together,” said Bill Kristol, on MSNBC, that “liberal” channel that somehow seems to be populated round the clock by ex-neocons and Pentagon dropouts.

Kristol, who has rarely ever been in the ballpark of right about anything — he once told us Iraq was going to be a “two month war” — might actually be correct.

Trump’s decisions on Syria and Afghanistan will lay bare the real distinctions in American politics. Political power in this country is not divided between right and left, and not even between rich and poor.

The real line is between a war party, and everyone else.

This is why Kristol is probably right. The Democrats’ plan until now was probably to impeach Trump in the House using at minimum some material from the Michael Cohen case involving campaign-finance violations.

That plan never had a chance to succeed in the Senate, but now, who knows? Troop withdrawals may push a collection of hawkish Republicans like Lindsey Graham, Marco Rubio, Ben Sasse and maybe even Mitch McConnell into another camp.

The departure of Defense Secretary Jim Mattis — a standard-issue Pentagon toady who’s never met an unending failure of a military engagement he didn’t like and whose resignation letter is now being celebrated as inspirational literature on the order of the Gettysburg Address or a lost epic by Auden or Eliot — sounded an emergency bell for all these clowns. The letter by Mattis, Rubio said:

“Makes it abundantly clear we are headed towards a series of grave policy errors which will endanger our nation, damage our alliances & empower our adversaries.”

Talk like this is designed to give political cover to Republican fence-sitters on Trump. That wry smile on Kristol’s face is, I’d guess, connected to the knowledge that Trump put the Senate in play by even threatening to pull the plug on our Middle Eastern misadventures.

You’ll hear all sorts of arguments today about why the withdrawals are bad. You’ll hear Trump has no plan, which is true. He never does, at least not on policy.

But we don’t exactly have a plan for staying in the Middle East, either, beyond installing a permanent garrison in a dozen countries, spending assloads of money and making ourselves permanently despised in the region as civilian deaths pile up through drone-bombings and other “surgical” actions.

You’ll hear we’re abandoning allies and inviting massacres by the likes of Turkish dictator Recep Tayyip Erdogan. If there was any evidence that our presence there would do anything but screw up the situation even more, I might consider that a real argument. At any rate, there are other solutions beyond committing American lives. We could take in more refugees, kick Turkey out of NATO, impose sanctions, etc.

As to the argument that we’re abandoning Syria to Russians — anyone who is interested in reducing Russian power should be cheering. If there’s any country in the world that equals us in its ability to botch an occupation and get run out on a bloody rail after squandering piles of treasure, it’s Russia. They may even be better at it than us. We can ask the Afghans about that on our way out of there.

The Afghan conflict became the longest military engagement in American history eight years ago. Despite myths to the contrary, Barack Obama did not enter office gung-ho to leave Afghanistan. He felt he needed to win there first, which, as anyone who’s read The Great Game knows, proved impossible. So we ended up staying throughout his presidency.

We were going to continue to stay there, and in other places, forever, because our occupations do not work, as everyone outside of Washington seems to understand.

TV talking heads will be unanimous on this subject, but the population, not so much. What polls we have suggest voters want out of the region in increasing numbers.

A Morning Consult/Politico poll from last year showed a plurality favored a troop decrease in Afghanistan, while only 5 percent wanted increases. Polls consistently show the public thinks our presence in Afghanistan has been a failure.

There’s less about how the public feels about Syria, but even there, the data doesn’t show overwhelming desire to put boots on the ground.

When Trump first ordered airstrikes in Syria over Assad’s use of chemical weapons, 70 percent favored sanctions according to Politico, while 39 percent favored sending troops. A CBS poll around that time found 45 percent wanted either no involvement period, or airstrikes and no ground troops, versus 18 percent who wanted full military involvement.

Trump is a madman, a far-right extremist and an embarrassment, but that’s not why most people in Washington hate him. It’s his foreign-policy attitudes, particularly toward NATO, that have always most offended DC burghers.

You could see the Beltway beginning to lose its mind back in the Republican primary race, when then-candidate Trump belittled America’s commitment to Middle Eastern oil states.

“Every time there’s a little ruckus, we send those ships and those planes,” he said, early in his campaign. “We get nothing. Why? They’re making a billion a day. We get nothing.”

As he got closer to the nomination, he went after neoconservative theology more explicitly.

“I don’t think we should be nation-building anymore,” he said, in March of 2016. He went on: “I watched as we built schools in Iraq and they’re blown up. We build another one, we get blown up.”

Trump was wrong about a thousand other things, but this was true. I had done a story about how military contractors spent $72 million on what was supposed to be an Iraqi police academy and delivered a pile of rubble so unusable, pedestrians made it into a toilet.

The Special Inspector General for Iraqi Reconstruction noted, “We witnessed a light fixture so full of diluted urine and feces that it would not operate.”

SIGIR found we spent over $60 billion on Iraqi reconstruction and did not significantly improve life for Iraqis. The parallel body covering Afghanistan, the Special Inspector General for Afghan Reconstruction, concluded last year that at least $15.5 billion had been wasted in that country between 2008 and 2017, and this was likely only a “fraction” of financial leakage.

Trump, after sealing the nomination, upped the ante. In the summer of 2016 he said he wasn’t sure he’d send troops to defend NATO members that didn’t pay their bills. NATO members are supposed to kick in 2 percent of GDP for their own defense. At the time, only four NATO members (Estonia, Poland, the U.K. and the U.S.) were in compliance.

Politicians went insane. How dare he ask countries to pay for their own defense! Republican House member Adam Kinzinger, a popular guest in the last 24 hours, said in July 2016 that Trump’s comments were “utterly disastrous.”

“There’s no precedent,” said Thomas Wright, a “Europe scholar” from the Brookings Institute.

When the news came after Trump’s election that he’d only read his intelligence briefings once a week instead of every day as previous presidents had dutifully done, that was it. The gloves were off at that point.

“The open disdain Trump has shown for the agencies is unprecedented,” said Patrick Skinner, a former CIA official for both George W. Bush and Obama.

All that followed, through today, has to be understood through this prism.

Trump dumped on basically every segment of the political establishment en route to Washington, running on a classic authoritarian strategy — bash the elites, pose as a populist.

However fake he was, there were portions of the political establishment that deserved abuse, the Pentagon most of all.

The Department of Defense has been a money pit for decades. It has trillions in expenditures it can’t account for, refused an audit for nearly 30 years and then failed this year (as in failed completely, zero-point-zero, not producing any coherent numbers) when one was finally funded.

We have brave and able soldiers, but their leaders are utter tools who’ve left a legacy of massacres and botched interventions around the world.

NATO? That’s an organization whose mission stopped making sense the moment the Soviet Union collapsed. We should long ago have repurposed our defense plan to focus on terrorism, cyber-crime and cyber-attacks, commercial espionage, financial security, and other threats.

Instead, we continued after the Soviet collapse to maintain a global military alliance fattened with increasingly useless carriers and fighter jets, designed to fight archaic forms of war.

NATO persisted mainly as a PR mechanism for a) justifying continued obscene defense spending levels and b) giving a patina of internationalism to America’s essentially unilateral military adventures.

We’d go into a place like Afghanistan with no real plan for leaving, and a few member nations like Estonia and France and Turkey would send troops to get shot at with us. But it was always basically Team America: World Police with supporting actors. No wonder so few of the member countries paid their dues.

Incidentally, this isn’t exactly a secret. Long before Trump, this is what Barney Frank was saying in 2010: “I think the time has come to reexamine NATO. NATO has become an excuse for other people to get America to do things.”

This has all been a giant, bloody, expensive farce, and it’s long since time we ended it.

We’ll see a lot of hand-wringing today from people who called themselves anti-war in 2002 and 2003, but now pray that the “adults in the room” keep “boots on the ground” to preserve “credibility.”

Part of this is because it’s Trump, but a bigger part is that we’ve successfully brainwashed big chunks of the population into thinking it’s normal for a country to exist in a state of permanent war, fighting in seven countries at once, spending half of all discretionary funding on defense.

It’s not. It’s insane. And we’ll never be a healthy society, or truly respected abroad, until we stop accepting it as normal.

Incidentally, I doubt Trump really follows through on this withdrawal plan. But until he changes (what passes for) his mind, watch what happens in Washington.

We’re about to have a very graphic demonstration of the near-total uniformity of the political class when it comes to the military and its role. The war party is ready for a coming-out party.

Finally we have an end to a war we should never have fought in Syria!

We Know How Trump’s War Game Ends

Matt Taibbi

December 21, 2018

Rolling Stone

Nothing unites our political class like the threat of ending our never-ending war

President Donald Trump reacts to the crowd as he arrives to speak to navy and shipyard personnel aboard nuclear aircraft carrier Gerald R. Ford at Newport News Shipbuilding in Newport News, Va., AP/Shutterstock

So we’re withdrawing troops from the Middle East.

GOOD!

What’s the War on Terror death count by now, a half-million? How much have we spent, $5 trillion? Five-and-a-half?

For that cost, we’ve destabilized the region to the point of abject chaos, inspired millions of Muslims to hate us, and torn up the Geneva Convention and half the Constitution in pursuit of policies like torture, kidnapping, assassination-by-robot and warrantless detention.

It will be difficult for each of us to even begin to part with our share of honor in those achievements. This must be why all those talking heads on TV are going crazy.

Unless Donald Trump decides to reverse his decision to begin withdrawals from Syria and Afghanistan, cable news for the next few weeks is going to be one long Scanners marathon of exploding heads.

“Today’s decision would cheer Moscow, ISIS, and Iran!” yelped Nicole Wallace, former George W. Bush communications director.

“Maybe Trump will bring Republicans and Democrats together,” said Bill Kristol, on MSNBC, that “liberal” channel that somehow seems to be populated round the clock by ex-neocons and Pentagon dropouts.

Kristol, who has rarely ever been in the ballpark of right about anything — he once told us Iraq was going to be a “two month war” — might actually be correct.

Trump’s decisions on Syria and Afghanistan will lay bare the real distinctions in American politics. Political power in this country is not divided between right and left, and not even between rich and poor.

The real line is between a war party, and everyone else.

This is why Kristol is probably right. The Democrats’ plan until now was probably to impeach Trump in the House using at minimum some material from the Michael Cohen case involving campaign-finance violations.

That plan never had a chance to succeed in the Senate, but now, who knows? Troop withdrawals may push a collection of hawkish Republicans like Lindsey Graham, Marco Rubio, Ben Sasse and maybe even Mitch McConnell into another camp.

The departure of Defense Secretary Jim Mattis — a standard-issue Pentagon toady who’s never met an unending failure of a military engagement he didn’t like and whose resignation letter is now being celebrated as inspirational literature on the order of the Gettysburg Address or a lost epic by Auden or Eliot — sounded an emergency bell for all these clowns. The letter by Mattis, Rubio said:

“Makes it abundantly clear we are headed towards a series of grave policy errors which will endanger our nation, damage our alliances & empower our adversaries.”

Talk like this is designed to give political cover to Republican fence-sitters on Trump. That wry smile on Kristol’s face is, I’d guess, connected to the knowledge that Trump put the Senate in play by even threatening to pull the plug on our Middle Eastern misadventures.

You’ll hear all sorts of arguments today about why the withdrawals are bad. You’ll hear Trump has no plan, which is true. He never does, at least not on policy.

But we don’t exactly have a plan for staying in the Middle East, either, beyond installing a permanent garrison in a dozen countries, spending assloads of money and making ourselves permanently despised in the region as civilian deaths pile up through drone-bombings and other “surgical” actions.

You’ll hear we’re abandoning allies and inviting massacres by the likes of Turkish dictator Recep Tayyip Erdogan. If there was any evidence that our presence there would do anything but screw up the situation even more, I might consider that a real argument. At any rate, there are other solutions beyond committing American lives. We could take in more refugees, kick Turkey out of NATO, impose sanctions, etc.

As to the argument that we’re abandoning Syria to Russians — anyone who is interested in reducing Russian power should be cheering. If there’s any country in the world that equals us in its ability to botch an occupation and get run out on a bloody rail after squandering piles of treasure, it’s Russia. They may even be better at it than us. We can ask the Afghans about that on our way out of there.

The Afghan conflict became the longest military engagement in American history eight years ago. Despite myths to the contrary, Barack Obama did not enter office gung-ho to leave Afghanistan. He felt he needed to win there first, which, as anyone who’s read The Great Game knows, proved impossible. So we ended up staying throughout his presidency.

We were going to continue to stay there, and in other places, forever, because our occupations do not work, as everyone outside of Washington seems to understand.

TV talking heads will be unanimous on this subject, but the population, not so much. What polls we have suggest voters want out of the region in increasing numbers.

A Morning Consult/Politico poll from last year showed a plurality favored a troop decrease in Afghanistan, while only 5 percent wanted increases. Polls consistently show the public thinks our presence in Afghanistan has been a failure.

There’s less about how the public feels about Syria, but even there, the data doesn’t show overwhelming desire to put boots on the ground.

When Trump first ordered airstrikes in Syria over Assad’s use of chemical weapons, 70 percent favored sanctions according to Politico, while 39 percent favored sending troops. A CBS poll around that time found 45 percent wanted either no involvement period, or airstrikes and no ground troops, versus 18 percent who wanted full military involvement.

Trump is a madman, a far-right extremist and an embarrassment, but that’s not why most people in Washington hate him. It’s his foreign-policy attitudes, particularly toward NATO, that have always most offended DC burghers.

You could see the Beltway beginning to lose its mind back in the Republican primary race, when then-candidate Trump belittled America’s commitment to Middle Eastern oil states.

“Every time there’s a little ruckus, we send those ships and those planes,” he said, early in his campaign. “We get nothing. Why? They’re making a billion a day. We get nothing.”

As he got closer to the nomination, he went after neoconservative theology more explicitly.

“I don’t think we should be nation-building anymore,” he said, in March of 2016. He went on: “I watched as we built schools in Iraq and they’re blown up. We build another one, we get blown up.”

Trump was wrong about a thousand other things, but this was true. I had done a story about how military contractors spent $72 million on what was supposed to be an Iraqi police academy and delivered a pile of rubble so unusable, pedestrians made it into a toilet.

The Special Inspector General for Iraqi Reconstruction noted, “We witnessed a light fixture so full of diluted urine and feces that it would not operate.”

SIGIR found we spent over $60 billion on Iraqi reconstruction and did not significantly improvelife for Iraqis. The parallel body covering Afghanistan, the Special Inspector General for Afghan Reconstruction, concluded last year that at least $15.5 billion had been wasted in that country between 2008 and 2017, and this was likely only a “fraction” of financial leakage.

Trump, after sealing the nomination, upped the ante. In the summer of 2016 he said he wasn’t sure he’d send troops to defend NATO members that didn’t pay their bills. NATO members are supposed to kick in 2 percent of GDP for their own defense. At the time, only four NATO members(Estonia, Poland, the U.K. and the U.S.) were in compliance.

Politicians went insane. How dare he ask countries to pay for their own defense! Republican House member Adam Kinzinger, a popular guest in the last 24 hours, said in July 2016 that Trump’s comments were “utterly disastrous.”

“There’s no precedent,” said Thomas Wright, a “Europe scholar” from the Brookings Institute.

When the news came after Trump’s election that he’d only read his intelligence briefings once a week instead of every day as previous presidents had dutifully done, that was it. The gloves were off at that point.

“The open disdain Trump has shown for the agencies is unprecedented,” said Patrick Skinner, a former CIA official for both George W. Bush and Obama.

All that followed, through today, has to be understood through this prism.

Trump dumped on basically every segment of the political establishment en route to Washington, running on a classic authoritarian strategy — bash the elites, pose as a populist.

However fake he was, there were portions of the political establishment that deserved abuse, the Pentagon most of all.

The Department of Defense has been a money pit for decades. It has trillions in expenditures it can’t account for, refused an audit for nearly 30 years and then failed this year (as in failed completely, zero-point-zero, not producing any coherent numbers) when one was finally funded.

We have brave and able soldiers, but their leaders are utter tools who’ve left a legacy of massacres and botched interventions around the world.

NATO? That’s an organization whose mission stopped making sense the moment the Soviet Union collapsed. We should long ago have repurposed our defense plan to focus on terrorism, cyber-crime and cyber-attacks, commercial espionage, financial security, and other threats.

Instead, we continued after the Soviet collapse to maintain a global military alliance fattened with increasingly useless carriers and fighter jets, designed to fight archaic forms of war.

NATO persisted mainly as a PR mechanism for a) justifying continued obscene defense spending levels and b) giving a patina of internationalism to America’s essentially unilateral military adventures.

We’d go into a place like Afghanistan with no real plan for leaving, and a few member nations like Estonia and France and Turkey would send troops to get shot at with us. But it was always basically Team America: World Police with supporting actors. No wonder so few of the member countries paid their dues.

Incidentally, this isn’t exactly a secret. Long before Trump, this is what Barney Frank was saying in 2010: “I think the time has come to reexamine NATO. NATO has become an excuse for other people to get America to do things.”

This has all been a giant, bloody, expensive farce, and it’s long since time we ended it.

We’ll see a lot of hand-wringing today from people who called themselves anti-war in 2002 and 2003, but now pray that the “adults in the room” keep “boots on the ground” to preserve “credibility.”

Part of this is because it’s Trump, but a bigger part is that we’ve successfully brainwashed big chunks of the population into thinking it’s normal for a country to exist in a state of permanent war, fighting in seven countries at once, spending half of all discretionary funding on defense.

It’s not. It’s insane. And we’ll never be a healthy society, or truly respected abroad, until we stop accepting it as normal.

Matt Taibbi is a contributing editor for Rolling Stone and winner of the 2008 National Magazine Award for columns and commentary. His most recent book is ‘I Can’t Breathe: A Killing on Bay Street,’ about the infamous killing of Eric Garner by the New York City police. He’s also the author of the New York Times bestsellers 'Insane Clown President,' 'The Divide,' 'Griftopia,' and 'The Great Derangement.'

Dublin street chapter 18

Shit.

Fuckity, shit, f**k.

Maybe I expected him to up the ante after that but Justin seemed to do the exact opposite and just… disappear.

I wondered if it was a new tactic.

So I was on alert when he didn’t show up with Ellie and Adam on Wednesday when I was covering the shift. He’d dragged them into the bar the week before when I’d picked up extra shifts, after Ellie demanded I get out of the apartment—I think I was hovering—and he’d sat on the sofa across from the bar, in my direct line of vision, dividing his time between watching me and flirting with pretty girls. I was guessing this was the ‘pissing me off’ part of his promise.

So I was surprised he wasn’t there Wednesday.

Ellie was still awake when I got home from work. She came out of her room and closed the door softly behind her. “Adam’s sleeping,” she whispered, following me into the sitting room.

I grinned at her over my shoulder. “No wonder. You must have worn that poor boy out.”

Ellie rolled her eyes at me and slumped down onto the couch beside me. “It’s not really like that. Well… kind of,” she blushed, her eyes bright with happiness. “Mostly we’re talking a lot. Sorting things out. All those misunderstandings. Apparently, he’s been in love with me for a while.”

“Oh you don’t say.”

“Funny.”

“Speaking of funny, Justin didn’t turn up at the bar tonight.”

His sister eyed me carefully. “His new manager needed help tonight. Were you disappointed he wasn’t there?”

“No,” I answered quickly. Probably too quickly. Dammit, I missed pre-Justin Selena. “I just noticed a lack of ego in the room and thought ‘hey, where’s Justin?’”

Ellie didn’t laugh. She gave me a mothering look of disapproval. “Justin’s right. You’re in love with him. So why are you giving him the run-around? Are you enjoying him chasing you? Is that it?”

I raised my eyebrow at her. “The tumor’s brought out the snarkiness in you, huh?”

She made a face.

“Too soon for tumor jokes?”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Is there never a time for tumor jokes?”

“Never, Selena. Never.”

I winced. “Sorry. That was mean.”

“No. Mean is using my tumor as a tool for deflection. I love you to bits, Selena, but I love my brother too. Why are you doing this to him?”

“I’m not doing this to him. I’m doing this for him.” I turned into her, my eyes sincere as I tried to make her understand. “I don’t handle bad things very well. I’m not proud of it, but it’s true. Look how I just walked out on you when you needed me. When Justin needed me.”

“But you came back,” she argued. “You were in shock, but you’ve been here every second since.”

“Justin talked me into it,” I confessed. “He had to shake some sense into me. And as he did that I realized that I can’t protect myself or the people around me from bad stuff happening. And apparently, bad stuff follows me around, so it’s probably going to happen again sometime. When it does, I can’t guarantee I won’t go off the deep end, and I just can’t do that to Justin. His life would be unstable with me and after that bitch wife of his put him through hell, he deserves someone who can give him peace.”

“Selena, you’re talking as if you’re some mental case. You’re not. You’re only problem is that you won’t face what happened to your family and start dealing with it.”

I slammed my head back against the couch. “You sound like Dr. Pritchard.”

“Who?”

“My therapist.”

“You’re seeing a therapist? How did I not know this?” she slapped her hand across my arm.

“Hey.” I winced, pulling away from her.

“This is what I’m talking about.” Ellie was angry; her eyes flashing just like Justin’s did when he was pissed off. “I’m your best friend and you didn’t tell me you were seeing a therapist. Does Justin know?”

“Yes,” I answered like a sullen teenager.

“Well that’s something at least.” She shook her head in disbelief. “You have got to start dealing with your family, Selena. I think if you do that, everything else will start to feel not so big and overwhelming. And you’ll realize you can take each day at a time with Justin. You don’t have to protect him from being with you. He’s a big boy, and clearly he knows a lot more about you than I do, and miracle of miracles he still wants to be with you.”

“Funny. You really do sound like Dr. Pritchard.”

“In all seriousness, Selena, I think you need to stop playing around.”

“I’m not playing.” I studied her carefully though, catching something in her face. “What? What is it? What do you know?”

She took a minute, almost as if she wasn’t sure she should say whatever it was that was on her mind. Suddenly, I got this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Adam and I went out for lunch today.”

“I know. I was in here, staring at a manuscript I haven’t touched in days.”

“Well.” Ellie couldn’t meet my eyes. “We met Justin for lunch and he brought the new manager of Fire with him.”

“And?”

Her eyes flicked up to me and I tensed at the concern in them. “His new manager is Isla. Isla is a five foot ten, stunning blonde who also happens to be smart and funny.”

I think I felt my heart plummet into my stomach.

“Selena, they seemed into each other.” She shook her head. “I didn’t want to believe it, but they were flirting and Justin was… was very attentive. They seemed… close.”

Jealousy is a horrible thing. The pain of it is almost as consuming as heartbreak, and I would know because I was feeling both at the same time. I felt like someone had ripped open my chest with their bare hands, removed my heart and lungs, and replaced them with a bunch of rocks and stones. I stared at the Christmas tree, my mind whirring. This was why he hadn’t been around lately.

“Selena?” Ellie touched my arm.

I looked at her, determined I wasn’t going to cry. I gave her a sad smile. “I guess I was right all along then.”

Ellie began to shake her head.

“No this is good.” I stood up, needing to be alone. “I broke up with him because he deserves to find someone decent and normal. And now I don’t have to feel guilty about it because I was right all along. He doesn’t love me. You’re not into someone else after just breaking up with the love of your life, right? This is good.” I moved towards the sitting room door and heard Ellie scrambling out of her seat.

“No!” Ellie hissed. “That’s not what it is, or why I told you.” She followed me into the hall but I wasn’t really listening since I had a lot of blood rushing in my ears. “Selena, I told you so you’d stop messing around and just be with him again. Listen, I may-” I slammed the door in her face.

“Selena.” She banged on it.

“Night, Els!”

“Shit,” I heard her mutter and then her footsteps faded away.

I tried. I really did. But when I curled up in my bed, I couldn’t stop the tears.

~24~

“Ellie’s surgery is tomorrow.”

Dr. Pritchard nodded. “You’re nervous?”

I nodded, my stomach churning. “Her surgeon has great credentials and he’s really confident that this is fairly straight-forward for brain surgery, but I’m still worried.”

“That’s only natural.”

I exhaled slowly, the exhale turning into a small smile. “I’m booked onto a flight to Virginia at the end of January. I’m flying out there after Ellie’s two week recovery at home.”

Dr. Pritchard eyebrows hit her hairline. “Oh? What prompted this?”

Ellie’s bravery and Justin moving on. “Justin’s met someone, just like I wanted him to. But Ellie is really the one who gave me the courage. She’s been really brave about everything and we were sitting talking last night, and there she is with this huge surgery ahead of her and she’s worrying about me, worrying that if I don’t start facing up to my past, I’ll never get better.”

Dr. Pritchard gave me a sad smile. “Ellie convinced you in one conversation to do what I’ve been trying to get you to do for almost six months?”

“I guess you needed to be diagnosed with something scary and be really brave about it so I’d feel like the worst kind of coward.”

“I’ll need to add that to my repertoire.”

I laughed, that laughter trailing off into tense silence. “I’m scared,” I finally admitted. “I have my family’s things in storage. I’m going over to visit their graves and maybe finally do something about all that stuff.”

“You never told me you kept all of their things.”

“Yeah. Put it in storage and pretended like it didn’t exist.”

“This is a really good step you’re taking, Selena.”

“Yeah. I hope so.”

She frowned now. “Justin’s met someone?”

I ignored the pain. “It’s what I wanted.”

“Selena, I know you told yourself that, but still it can’t be easy to see him with someone new so soon. Especially after chasing you and promising you that he wouldn’t give up.”

“It just proves me right. He doesn’t love me.”

“And he’s definitely seeing this new woman? There’s no misunderstanding?”

“Not according to Ellie.”

“Then a trip to Virginia might be exactly what you need right now.”

“Oh it’s not a trip.” I shook my head. “Well, it is and isn’t. I’m thinking of moving back permanently once I know Ellie’s going to be okay. I’m going to shop around for a place when I get there and come back to Edinburgh and sort out my affairs…”

Dr. Pritchard shook her head. “I don’t understand. I thought Edinburgh was your home? I thought Ellie was your family?”

“Ellie is my family. She always will be.” I smiled sadly. “I can’t watch him be with someone else,” I admitted. “He was wearing me down all right. You, Ellie, him. All of you were wearing me down about it. You don’t think I know chasing him off is irrational?” I found myself raising my voice. “I know it’s irrational. I couldn’t stop myself—it was like someone else was inside me, pushing him away because I was so terrified of losing him.”

“Selena,” the good doctor’s voice was soft, soothing, “Irrational, yes, but understandable. You suffered a lot of loss as a young girl. Justin knows exactly what you were doing. That’s why he wasn’t giving up.”

“He gave up at the sight of the first long pair of legs that came along.”

“That’s really why you’re leaving?”

“I know I sound like a crazy person. One minute I’m adamant I don’t want to be with him, and as soon as I find out he’s with someone else, I freak out. Thing is, nothing’s changed. Except now I don’t want to be with him because he clearly doesn’t love me the way I love him. It’s always been the thrill of the chase with him.”

“Well, I’d have to have Justin in to speak with him to have an opinion on that, but I do think you need to communicate with him. You need to tell him this before you leave for Virginia, or you’ll always wonder, Selena. Do you know what’s scarier than taking a risk and losing?”

I shook my head.

“Regret, Selena. Regret does awful things to a person.”

***

We all went to the hospital for Ellie. Even Hannah and Dec. When they came to take her down for her surgery we all took turns reassuring her. Lastly, Adam gave her a long sweet kiss that would have melted even the most unromantic heart. It sucked that something as major as brain surgery had finally made him step up to the plate, but life was like that sometimes. Some of us needed a swift kick-up the ass.

We sat in a waiting room even though the doctors told us we should probably go home and come back in a few hours. None of us wanted to leave. I sat next to Elodie, Hannah on my other side. Clark sat across the room, watching Dec play his Nintendo on silent. Justin sat on Clark’s other side with Adam on his right. We barely spoke. I got coffee for everyone and soda for the kids. I took Hannah on the hunt for some sandwiches and tried to ask her about the latest book she was reading, but neither one of us were feeling it. Dec was the only one who ate all of his sandwich while the rest of us just nibbled, our stomachs too full of nerves to make room for anything else.

Did you know that time stops in a hospital waiting room? No joke. It just stops. You look at the clock it says twelve o’ one and you look back at it in what feels like an hour and it’s only freaking twelve o’ two.

Ellie had painted my fingernails last night when she needed something to do to take her mind off of surgery. By the time the surgeon came out to us hours later, I had picked every last bit of the polish off.

We shot to our feet when Dr. Dunham finally entered the waiting room. He smiled at us, looking tired, but perfectly calm. “Everything went really well. We removed all of the mass and have sent the tumors for biopsy. Ellie’s been taken to the post-op wing but it’ll be a little while yet before she comes out of the anesthesia. I know you’ve been here all day, so I suggest you go home for a few hours and return for tonight’s visiting hours.”

Elodie shook her head, her eyes bright with worry. “We want to see her.”

“Just give her some time,” Dr. Dunham replied kindly. “I promise she’s fine. You can return tonight. I’ll warn you now, she’ll probably still be very groggy, and the right side of her face is swollen quite badly from the surgery. That’s perfectly normal.”

I squeezed Elodie’s arm. “Come on. We’ll go get the kids some dinner and come back later.”

“Yeah, mum, I’m hungry,” Declan complained quietly.

“Okay,” she whispered, still sounding unconvinced.

“Thank you, Dr. Dunham.” Clark held out his hand and the surgeon took it with a kind smile. After Adam and Justin shook his hand and Elodie and I offered him a grateful smile, Dr. Dunham left us to gather ourselves. A tension had eased between us all knowing that she’d come through surgery safely, but we were still anxious to see her.

It wasn’t until we were leaving the hospital and Justin edged up to me to draw me into his side for a hug, that I realized for once in God knows how long I hadn’t thought about my drama with him. I’d just been thinking about Ellie.

As soon as he touched me though I remembered Isla and I tensed.

He felt it, his body turning hard against mine. “Selena?” he asked questioningly.

I couldn’t look at him. I shrugged out of his hold taking advantage of his surprise, and hurried to catch up with Hannah.

***

That night the nurse led us to the post-op wing and we were allowed into see Ellie. Her curtains were drawn around her, and Elodie and Clark were in front of me so I didn’t see her at first. When they greeted her quietly and stepped back I flinched.

I hadn’t expected to feel so scared.

Dr. Dunham was right—her head was pretty swollen and kind of misshapen on the right side, her eyes still glazed from the anesthesia. White padded bandages were wrapped tight around her head and I felt my stomach lurch as I thought about the fact that today her brain had been cut into.

She gave me a lopsided quirk of a smile. “Selena,” her voice was hoarse, barely audible.

I wanted to run. I know. That’s horrible. But I wanted to run away from this part. People ending up in hospital had never concluded well in my life, and seeing her there, so vulnerable, so exhausted, just reminded me of how close we might have come to losing her.

I felt a hand squeeze mine and I turned my head to see Hannah watching me. She looked as pale as I felt, and her fingers were trembling between mine. She was scared too. I smiled reassuringly at her, hoping I was pulling it off. “Ellie is okay. Come on.” I tugged on her hand and pulled her with me to Ellie’s bed side.

I reached out for the hand Ellie had held out for her mom, and I slid mine into it, feeling relief and love as she gave me a gentle squeeze. “Am I pretty?” she asked with a little slur, and I laughed softly.

“Always, honey.”

Her eyes dropped to Hannah. “I’m okay,” she whispered.

“Are you sure?” Hannah pressed in close to the bed, her frightened eyes glued to Ellie’s bandaged head.

“Mmmhmm.”

She was still tired. We shouldn’t stay long. I gently eased Hannah back so Justin and Adam could get in with Declan. Declan thought she looked cool of course. Once Justin said hello, Adam wouldn’t leave Ellie’s side.

Her eyes started to flutter closed.

“We should leave her to rest,” Clark ordered in a hushed voice. “We’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Els,” Justin murmured, and her eyes fluttered back open. “We’re going. We’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Adam grabbed a chair from the side of the room and put it beside her bed. “I’m staying.”

We nodded, not really wanting to argue with the determined clench of his jaw.

With soft goodbyes we left them, Justin and I trailing at the back as we walked in a solemn fog through the hospital.

“She looked tiny,” Justin observed hoarsely. “I wasn’t expecting her to look so bad.”

“The swelling will go down.”

He shot me a careful look. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.”

“It’s been a tiring day.”

We stopped at—actually I didn’t know where. The hospital was kind of confusing with lots of a little parking lots and different entrances and yellow barricades. I didn’t know where the hell I was. We were standing at an entrance anyway, and Elodie sighed. “Are you two getting a taxi back?”

Clark’s car wasn’t big enough for everyone to get a ride in. I’d gotten a ride going in but Adam and Justin had gotten a cab. I supposed it would be rude to suggest Justin take a cab and I get a ride.

“I’ll get a cab. Justin, you should go with them.”

He smirked knowingly. “We’ll get a taxi together.”

Shit.

I reluctantly let Ellie’s family go, and waited as Justin called for a cab. I then stood at the entrance doors, keeping an eye out for the cab.

I smelled his cologne as he pressed close to my back. I shifted uncomfortably, trying to block out the fact that even though I’d ripped the bedsheets off my bed, I still hadn’t washed them because I could still smell Justin on them. I really was that girl.

“Do you want to tell me why I’m getting the silent treatment?” He asked gruffly, his breath hot on my ear.

I hunched up my shoulders, pulling away. His voice had an effect on my body and I didn’t want him to know that. “I’m talking to you.”

“Barely.”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“When have I ever wanted to talk about it?”

I felt the heat grow hotter as he stepped closer, his hand sliding down my hip. “You used to talk to me, Selena. Don’t pretend you didn’t.”

Seeing the familiar black cab of the city turn the corner into our part of the building, I pulled away quickly. “Cab’s here.” And started off toward it.

When we settled in the cab I could feel he was annoyed. I also knew him well enough to know that he was going to try to talk to me about it even if it meant following me home. I gave the cab driver Jo’s address in Leith.

Justin shot me a look.

I shrugged. “She asked me to come over.”

After a few more inane questions and a few more one word responses from me, Justin gave up, but not before sending me a lethal ‘this isn’t over’ warning look.

I got out at Jo’s without a goodbye and watched the cab drive away. I called Jo to make sure she was home, and I went up to her apartment and spent almost all night there.

***

Avoiding Justin took skill. Well, no it just involved me not spending any time at the apartment. It also meant getting a cab out alone to visit Ellie. Every day without fail Justin sent a text asking if I wanted him to swing the cab by my place to pick me up for visiting hours at the hospital. I sent him a polite ‘No, thanks’ back each time. Visiting hours were all about Ellie so I was safe there. She had a private room, was bored out of her mind and desperate to get home, but she had a whole week here. The swelling was going down more each day, but I could tell she was exhausted. She let us all, and by all I mean Elodie, chat around her, smiling and taking it in. Thankfully, I didn’t get to see the sad part, when her eyes would inevitably get all weepy as we left her. I didn’t get to see that part because I always left before everyone else. I saw not only the questions in Ellie’s eyes when I did this, but everyone else’s too. I tried to make up for it by bringing her a silly present each time I visited, but I knew she was dying to ask me what was wrong.

I wasn’t at all surprised that Justin didn’t chase me out of there.

He had moved on, so he didn’t really need to know why I was avoiding him.

Or so I thought.

New Years’ Eve I spent with Jo. I got a call from Rhian. Texts from Craig, Alistair, Adam, Elodie, Clark and the kids. I got a text from Justin.

Happy New Years, Selena. I hope it’s a good one for you. X

Who knew a text could be so heartbreaking? I text back… wait for it…

Back at ya.

Yeah, I did. I did do that. I’m an idiot.

As I began staying away from the apartment, swimming at a different pool and avoiding the gym we shared, I think it must have begun to dawn on Justin that I knew about Isla.

Four days into Ellie’s recovery at the hospital and only a few days before she was to come home, I got another text from Justin.

We really need to talk. I’ve come by the flat a few times but you’re never in. Can we meet up?x

I didn’t text him back. Obviously, he wanted to tell me about his new manager.

It didn’t matter if I didn’t text back. Fate already had plans for us to meet. Two days after the text, I was dodging the apartment and having lunch at this great pub on the Grassmarket. I was going to head up along George IV Bridge to Forrest Road where there was this little kitschy store that Ellie loved. They sold these umbrellas that were like old-fashioned parasols and she’d been going on and on about buying one but never had. So I was going to buy it for her as a little present for her return to the apartment the next day.

I had just finished my lunch and had stepped out onto the Grassmarket, trying to shove my purse back into my bag, when I heard, “Selena?”

My head snapped up and my heart did that thing where it beat so hard it unhooked itself from my chest and took a swan dive into the pit of my stomach. Justin was standing before me, and at his side was this tall, stunning blonde. She was wearing a pencil-skirt and Victorian-style suit jacket, sexy stiletto heels, her long blonde hair was perfectly tousled, and her make-up was as flawless as her face.

Was she for real?

I hated her instantly.

“Justin,” I murmured, my eyes flying anywhere and everywhere to avoid his gaze.

I should mention I was wearing my jeans with the worn out knee, a ratty t-shirt that advertised a famous beer, and my hair was in its usual knot on my head. I wore no makeup.

I looked like hell.

I’d really made his choice easy huh.

“I text you,” he said in an annoyingly stern tone.

My eyes flew to his at that. “I know.”

His jaw clenched.

Isla cleared her throat politely and he tried to relax, although his penetrating gaze didn’t leave mine as he said, “Isla, this is Selena. Selena, this is Isla, the new manager of Fire.”

Putting on my best acting skills I smiled politely and held out my hand for her to shake. She smiled back at me curiously. “I’ve heard all about you,” I told her meaningfully.

Justin’s whole body froze at that and I sent him a bitter smile, my eyes sending their own message—yeah I know all about her, ass**le.

Isla turned to Justin with an attractive and exceptionally flirtatious tilt to her mouth. “You’ve been telling people about me?”

He didn’t answer. He was too busy killing me with his eyes. “Isla, can you give us a moment please?”

Uh oh.

And then miracles. Bon Jovi saved the day. I’d reset my ringtone.

SHOT THROUGH THE HEART, AND YOU’RE TOO BLAME, YOU GIVE LOVE A BAD NAME.

Yeah, I hadn’t been feeling subtle that day.

Justin raised an eyebrow at it, a stupidly amused smile curving his lips as I pulled my cell out. Rhian. Thank God. “I have to take this. I’ll catch you later.”

His smile quickly turned into a glare. “Joc-”

“Rhian,” I answered with affected cheer, giving Isla a little wave goodbye, one she returned obliviously.

Rhian snorted. “You sound wired.”

I hurried past the pubs heading for Candlemaker Row, a shortcut up to the bridge and Forrest Road. “I didn’t give you a good enough Christmas present, do you know that.”

“Uh, why?”

“Because you just saved my ass. I’m sending you a little something as a thank you.”

“Ooh, chocolate please.”

“Done.”

I let her talk to me about everything and nothing for ten minutes in a desperate attempt to dull the excruciating ache in my chest at seeing Justin. It didn’t last long. I went home, curled up with the unwashed bedsheet that smelled like him and cried for three hours, before I finally got up the courage to put it in the wash.

~25~

Perhaps I was still feeling guilty about flaking out on Ellie that first night, so I went a little overboard on getting the apartment ready for her return. It was clean from top to bottom, but I’d held back my own inclination to ‘tidy’ and left her clutter out since I knew it made her feel at home. I ordered this gorgeous pale green luxury bed set online because she loved green, I bought a few decorative cushions, and made her bed up into a princess bed. I bought a breakfast-in-bed table that rolled up to the side of the bed and swung over so she could eat in bed. I bought flowers. Chocolate. I packed the fridge with her favorite Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. There was a pile of every latest issue of every magazine I’d ever seen her reading on her bedside cabinet. A couple of Sudoku and crossword books. And the most extravagant… a small flatscreen television with a built in DVD player. It was probably a little much for a patient who was only supposed to be on bed rest for two weeks but I didn’t want her to get bored.

“Oh my God.” Ellie’s eyes widened as she walked into her room. She was standing with her arm wrapped around Adam’s waist, and Elodie, Clark and Justin were already in the room, smiling at everything. The kids were back at school so they’d missed out on ‘Selena goes overboard’. Ellie’s eyes swung to me. “You did all this?”

I shrugged, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. “It’s not much.”

Ellie laughed and came over to me slowly. “You’re a little bit awesome.”

I huffed. “If you say so.”

“Come here.” She wrapped her arms around me and I hugged her, like always feeling like a little girl hugging her mother because she was so tall. “I love it, thank you.”

“I’m glad.” I gently eased her back and frowned. “Lie down.”

Ellie groaned. “This is going to be fun.”

As Adam helped Ellie off with her shoes and into the bed, Elodie came over to me. “The doctor says you need to make sure her bandages don’t get wet when she’s showering.”

“She can take baths for now.”

“Good. And, she’s to rest. She’s allowed to walk about, but not constantly.”

“Got it.”

“She’s to go back in two weeks to get the bandage off.”

“Okay.”

“And then she has a check-up three months after that. If everything’s fine, it’ll be a year after that.”

30.

“It’s cool, Ant will meet you at the airport. How many is there of you?” Placing my box full of watches in my bag “there is four of us, camera guy, sound guy, my manager and me” Yinka said “oh cool, yeah Ant will meet you and then blind fold, you will then you get here, joke. I will see you then” I have so much to do before going to Miami “ok, see you soon Chris” disconnecting the call, my dad tried calling me earlier but I ignored his call. I have shit to do so he can leave me the fuck alone, my phone start ringing in my hand once again. It’s been doing this non-stop since I woke up “mom” pressing my phone to my ear “I am loving my baby’ album so much, how are you feeling?” as long as she ain’t calling me about my dad then we good “yeah mom, I am happy. Seeing the numbers coming through for the second day, I am blessed but with that comes more work. You seen the billboards yet? Robyn and I clothing line? Puma Fenty-Brown? I think that shit is so cool, it just says in Black and white our name and coming soon, I am so excited for this mom” my mom cooed out “the world is watching, the world can’t wait to see too” I am actually hungry, I hope Robyn has made some food “yeah, Robyn and I just need to do a photoshoot then we good. But I think it will be just me on my own” my eyes bulged out realising what I am saying “why is that?” my mom asked “uhm, just because Robyn is not well” making my way down the stairs “tell her I will visit soon and get better” seeing Mel sat at the dining table, just nice “I will, I need to go now. Talk soon” disconnecting the call.

I am blessed my baby is making pancakes “did you pack your things?” Robyn asked, pressing a kiss to her cheek “I placed the things I want, can you do the rest?” Robyn side eyed me and then smiled “I will, I am going to miss you so much” pressing a kiss to her lips “and so will I baby, these pancakes smell nice as hell though” reaching over to steal one “no” she hit my hand away “go and speak to Mel, things happen. It got out of hand, she wants to apologise. She is staying with me while you go” I don’t really want to speak to her “I did so much for Mel and she did me dirty” Robyn sighed out “she did, Adam has been trying to contact me. Jen and Mel have been working hard to help me get out of this, which I am but he is demanding his money back, which won’t happen. The blogs are saying things, how the name fell through when it didn’t. Jen was supposed to come to your album release but she was stuck in a meeting, the record label are coming at her about me. They find me lazy, they are saying I am hiding behind you because I went with you to the release. They won’t be saying that when they find out I am pregnant but I don’t want to be used for money, I know them. I just feel like my name is being dragged through shit right now, you know how it is. I make an album they put money into, they want it back but they can wait” I don’t like to know my wife is stressing about anything “if they want you to make money, if they are so desperate then I will tour and then they can make the money from me” Robyn shook her head “no, it’s too much. I will speak to them on the phone, they need to wait. But one good thing is the clothing line” that is the only good thing.

Sitting down at the dining table, it’s not like Mel to be so quiet “you’ve got bigger” I said breaking the silence “I mean stomach wise” I don’t want to offend a pregnant woman now, I have two in the house “yeah, it’s going so quick” nodding my head, looking down at my hands “I am sorry Chris, that’s my girl and I shouldn’t have got involved but I did. We all learnt from that mistake, Jen and I was speaking and we feel bad. We see you as a friend to us, I know you probably won’t be the same but I am sorry” Robyn placed the plate in front of me “I am not about to hold a grudge, I want to move on from what happened” Mel smiled at me “I met up with Mijo” letting out an oh “we decided to not go court, he will pay and he will see the child. I still think he is doing it to be in the group, he was asking about Rihanna and I didn’t really say much. He told me that you attacked him at the studio” Robyn gasped “what!?” she spat, shifting in the chair “he just got me mad, he said bros before hoes and I got angry, calling my wife that. It’s whatever Robyn” I would punch him if I could, he gets me so angry.

Drinking the last of the OJ “you both haven’t done any baby shopping have you?” Mel questioned, placing my glass down “nothing, I am waiting for Chris to come back and then we will slowly start. Oh yeah Chris, you know when we can. Do you want to know the sex of the baby?” Robyn said, I totally forgot that you can do that “erm why not actually, we can really set up that way. I really hope it’s a girl though, I just want a daughter. Just look like you, I can’t wait to feel that love. I just want my daughter to be a daddy’ girl, something I feel my sister lacked. I also want a boy” Robyn stared at me in awe “you’re going to be a great father, I can already tell. Our son or daughter will have the best opportunity and so much love” holding Robyn’ hand “I think Robz will be the strict parent though, it’s going to be let’s go to dad. He will say yes to situations” Mel said, Robyn pulled a face “well I ain’t going to have that child disrespect anyone, I will smack the respect into them” busting out laughing “I will leave that to you” I said shaking my head “Chris, if our son is like you. He is going to think he is spiderman at two, I am not having him playing around and painting the walls, I can already see it and it’s not art” she pointed at me, she knew I was about to say that.

Fixing my snapback on my head “I have packed everything you wanted, even though you going to call me and say where is this and that” Robyn said behind me, fixing my hood on my hoodie “looks like you have become more muscular in that hoodie, I am going to miss your dick” feeling Robyn rest her head on my shoulder “no tears please” hearing a knock at the bedroom door “come in” Robyn mumbled “it’s just me, they are here. I sat them in the living room” Robyn groaned out “I don’t like the bitch” turning around to Robyn “look at my man, he looks so handsome and she is going to be on the whores on tour bus with you to Vegas? Or Miami which one first?” I knew Robyn was being too calm “Vegas first, she is only going Vegas, shit will make me look good overseas” Robyn rolled her eyes “she wants your dick, she is in my home” biting my bottom lip “then why did you say yes?” Mel asked the question I was about to say “because I was ok then, I am not now. Is she dressed up?” Mel shook her head “she is average” if I am going to cheat then I would need to cheat with a girl that is above that “I don’t trust her” Robyn whined out “but you trust me, I said you can come?” Robyn shook her head “this is your time away, I can’t do that” she needs to trust me, it’s wrong that she doesn’t.

Robyn is wearing my sweatshirt and sweatpants, they fit her nicely now “are you ok? I don’t want to leave this house for you to call me crying, I don’t want that” I think it will annoy me so much if she does that “I am ok, I am secure with you. Just please always answer my calls when I do call you” hugging Robyn “you know I will, if I am doing something I will get Ant to pick up. Don’t do too much work though, seriously. I don’t want you straining yourself doing house work” kissing Robyn’ cheek “I won’t, I feel so ugly. I wanted to go down there and look so bomb but I can’t, I have to hide it. I am just fat, I laugh and my cheeks come out” she ain’t lying “and I love it, you’re the cutest” picking my bag from the floor “let Cass get the rest” he can carry them into the bus, I can’t be bothered. Making my way down the steps with Robyn behind me “took your time, I thought you both were having sex” Mel said in a whisper, placing my bag down smiling “nah” walking into the living area “my bad, I was trying to make myself beautiful” I announced, Yinka was the first to get up “you still look ugly” Ant said, I chuckled “you had a safe trip here? Ant didn’t blindfold you?” shaking Yinka’ hand, I think we need to stick to hand shaking “he said it as a joke” I want my hand back, she finally let go “Hi Rihanna” looking behind me, Robyn is so stand offish “hi” she simply said back “your home is so beautiful, when we arrived Ant showed me the cars” sitting down next to Ant “yeah, it’s like a showroom” DD walked over to me, Robyn does not allow my babies here so I don’t know how my bulldog came “I seen this on your instagram, this is DD?” Yinka pointed “yes, I have a whole breed of dogs but they ain’t supposed to be here” grabbing DD’ collar, if she steps on the white rug then I will get it from Robyn.

Ant looked at me smiling “so how you want to do this?” I asked “well most of it will be freehand, just really following you. This is about you” I did once like my foreign women, Mel said she is average but I think she was just saying it “we can start now, I will show you my crib, keep my wife out of it though” getting up from the couch, pulling my hoodie down. Robyn is not amused at all, Mel and Robyn are awful together, two pregnant hormonal women “I would show you upstairs but that is a mess, I been packing and the bed is not made and the rooms are a little mess because we have got box’s of clothes from the Puma line, so I can take you to the cinema room or my cars? You want to talk to me there or here?” I might as well do her job “cinema room will be great” her manager spoke up, least someone is. Pushing open the door to the cinema room “this is huge!” Yinka spat “you don’t even need to leave the house” walking down the steps “we don’t, we just stay here most times” looking behind me, Ant is following behind.

Placing my hood over my head, holding the mic “you owe me for this” I said joking with her “this is good for you promo wise” she retorted “I guess but I let you in my home so you owe me” she is busy looking at some paper “how about you just ask me, be freehand. It’s boring just asking things on paper” she is nervous, I can tell with the way she is not looking at me and is a mess with things “ok so when you’re ready” the guy behind the camera said “ready” she looked up “I am just in shock, your home is just a dream. Huge too” she said in awe, I chuckled “paying a few millions, I expect it to be just that. It was not cheap, but it was more me. I wanted my cars being somewhere. My old crib had a huge space for my cars, I paid so much less but shawty wanted to move. This came up and we bought it, now I have to start making the money back. It ain’t cheap having a wife” I said half laughing “what is your routine, do you just wake up and what? Seeing the difference with you, because single Chris was totally different to this Chris” nodding my head “way different, well I will wake up. Keeping it strictly clean because I can’t be saying I have sex with my wife to the camera in the morning” I chuckled “I will wake up, depending on if my wife is awake she will cook. If not then I will eat what ever, I will catch up with the homies, studio. Events, there is always something going off in LA, always someone having a party. It is totally different because single Chris was confused I would say, he wasn’t in a good place. People would say it’s boring, I am boring but it’s the best kind of boring, you know. I can have fun but I know my boundaries, I got the woman I wanted so I don’t need to cheat. Then it goes to the fact I have done it before, like I told you before I had that wake up call” Yinka smiled at me “I like this Chris, he speaks sense. Who said love can’t change a man, so today we are going to explore the world of Chris. His album was released two days ago, we are going to travel with Chris. What do you think I will expect from this?” she questioned “erm” I paused “turn up, I am just going to be me and y’all can step into my world” I shrugged.

“Cass, nigga. Upstairs, my jewellery. There is four bags, one suitcase. Bring them, put it on the bus. Is EJ on there?” I asked, I haven’t even checked who is here “he is, will go upstairs. Rihanna” Cass said smiling before walking off, looking behind me “you can still come?” I am giving Robyn the option now, I know my wife and I know what she is like “is the bus out there?” Yinka said, Robyn gave her the dirtiest look “yeah, Lo. Take them to the bus” placing my arm around Robyn laughing “it’s not funny, stop laughing” Robyn wrapped her arms around my waist “I am laughing at you hating, I am going to miss you” Robyn groaned out “this is horrible, Ant why you taking my husband away from me” Robyn said to him “business is business, many things to come for Chris but of course you come first. He will be back before you know it” Mel smirked at Robyn “she is a such pain, honestly let him go. If you don’t want to go” she doesn’t want to go but yet is whining “you know I love you” Robyn looked up at me, pecking her lips.

It’s nice to have Mel back with me, not had Mel be with me in a while “honestly, we should stay at my apartment. Least the kitchen is right next to my couch, I feel like I am walking for so long just to get water” Mel sat down on the couch in a huff “this is why I wanted you here, I was not about to stay in this home on my own. It’s nice but at night it is creepy and lonely, Jen should be coming soon. I just want my babies with me” stifling out a yawn “I wonder what drama she got today, she called me three days ago. It was late at night, I picked up of course and she was like, Adam is actually driving me crazy about the money situation. He demands to speak to Rihanna, I don’t want to call her about this. I told her I would deal with it, then I spoke to him. He goes you know me Melissa, I did nothing wrong. She did me over, I helped her so much. Chris did this, he ruined her name and took my money. I was like if you want to speak to Chris, I am sure he would like to speak to you and do some more things” Mel shrugged “he put the phone down, we shall see what he does” rolling my eyes “Chris will actually hit him, I just want him to get the message and leave us alone. Honestly, Fenty Beauty was the greatest thing I did. It took so much for me to let it go, I don’t regret it because I saved my marriage and I pray to god that I do get that opportunity again” the situation was a mess.

I am jealous of Jen, drinking my wine and smoking my weed. Sipping my water “I didn’t get to ask, I saw the videos and pictures but how was the album release. I saw the reviews and they have been so good” Jen said “I am very proud of him, the album is great. The party was great but my back was gone, I was so happy to be in bed and then, Chris was slightly drunk but he knew what he was doing. I am always down for sex but at that moment I didn’t want it, but he wanted it. He was like a dog on heat, he was humping me practically. I didn’t want him on top of me so I goes I will be back, I am just putting something sexy on for you. I purposely took my time knowing he would fall asleep, I gave him ten minutes and I slowly opened the door to see he fell asleep” Jen cackled “men are so stupid drunk, it’s horrible though. Having sex when they are drunk, they are heavier too. They can’t find the right hole” pulling a face and nodding my head in agreement “if I am drunk and he is then it’s fine, we having sex and I am riding you but I wasn’t, I was like nope” Mel rolled her eyes “least you both get dick, I have black thrust 2000 in my drawer” I snorted laughing “you still use that while pregnant, can you reach?” I asked “yes, on my hand and knees” letting out an oh “you poor thing” pulling a face.

Pressing send on the text to my mom, I am telling her to not come to LA. I don’t want to see her right now “you and Chris have a nice bed” Jen sat down on my bed “we do, I changed the sheets so don’t worry bitches” Mel get out of the bathroom “it’s big and we can all sleep in one bed” Jen shuffled closer to me “so this is what you actually look like under the baggy things you wear, you have a bomb shape Robyn. It’s so perfect and round, I have a feeling this baby is going to be big” Jen touched my stomach, lifting my tee up and over my stomach “look at you, all pregnant and shit. This is so beautiful to see, you really have a perfect pregnancy stomach” hearing Jen say that makes me feel better “thank you, Chris usually before going to bed puts Cocoa butter on my stomach and massages my feet” Jen let out an oh “Yusef told me the whole drama and your tears, he called you fat and I goes to him don’t ever say that but I understood why, they are harsh in the paparazzi world. Your ankles do look swollen but it will go down, come. I will put Cocoa butter on your stomach” Jen gestured.

Poking my lips out “these are old, I can’t take any sex nudes now. Show him what? My swollen fat self?” I want to send Chris a sexy picture but I can’t, I have only my old ones “men are easily pleased, niggas will take a nipple. Your boobs have grown bitch, go in that bathroom and show him some boob” Mel said “roll your fat ass out of the bed bitch, come on. Chris is right, you have become so whiny about things” I huffed getting out of bed “no harm in propping ya leg up on the sink, if your pussy popping show it. Use his fetish” Mel pointed out, turning around “you done this before whore!” I pointed “you telling me you haven’t?. Actually don’t be so whorish on the first picture, just take a picture of your upper half. Be light hearted, be naked. Stand to the side. Embrace the baby in the stomach and put miss you daddy. Then start getting kinky, don’t pop up so quick with your pussy wide open” Mel is so stupid “whatever” let me take some pictures for Chris.

I decided to do what Mel said, I didn’t go all out but I did a side view. I don’t want to be too trashy just yet, pressing send to the picture and message “all done?” Jen asked, smiling wide “yes, all done. Anyways, did you check that bitches profile out? She hasn’t posted anything?” I have my spies on the job “she did a insta story, on the bus. But no Chris, just saying something exciting to come. Maybe she has backed off?” hoes don’t back off, I know that “I am doing this because Chris feels I don’t trust him, this is so hard for me because deep down I want to be there. He has a girl that likes him on the bus but I need to do it, I want to show him I do trust him but it’s hard so you two are my eyes and ears” feeling my phone vibrate in my hand, lifting my hand up and looking at the I.D “awwww is it the husband?” Mel asked “the smile on her face says it is, you go and speak to him” answering the call “hello?” I feel all shy now, he has seen the picture of course “you sending me sexy pictures like that baby momma? You looking all fine naked, you know I love your body baby. That is a bomb ass picture, you got me changing my lock screen now” I giggled out “don’t do that, someone will see. You like it then?” smiling wide “yes I did, I miss you. Honestly, you look so sexy pregnant. You have to believe me” sighing out “hmmm it’s hard to believe at times but what are you doing now? I am just getting into bed with my girls, I am sleepy” it seems very quiet where he is “in the hotel room, going to the club in an hour so I thought I would call my baby but you sent me that, speechless. Wish I could post it, when we can tell. I will post that, obviously cropping the boobs out because they mine but I love it. Take a video of yourself when you masturbate” he said so randomly “be quiet, I said I am sleeping in a bed with my bitches. I won’t be doing that, use the old videos you got. Is that tramp bitch not making any moves with you?” Chris chuckled “she was quiet actually, the boys scared her ass. You know how wild they can be, I am just laughing and shit” I am glad they did, stupid hoe ass bitch “well text me when you finish from the club, call me if something happens. Please, please be good. I want you home soon, me and baby Brown want you home and I love you” I miss him so much “I will text you, I love you too baby. Talk soon” I don’t want to get off the phone now.