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Our Happiness In Other People's Hands

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Clarke is not completely honest during her interview to work at the renaissance faire.

Most of it is accurate--she's recently finished with grad school, she's going to be a teacher in the fall, she wants a summer position to bring in some extra cash, and she likes the faire. She has experience working in both customer and food service, thanks to a summer job at a deli in high school, and she thinks she could do well at one of their food or beverage vendors.

"Probably beverage," she adds, with a smile. "I never professionally bartended, but I worked some college parties, so I know the drill."

It's a lie of omission, a bunch of truths strung together to hide her actual underlying motivation: the ren faire is a bisexual paradise. The first time she went was her sophomore year of college, with her then-girlfriend, and she didn't think she'd like it at all. Lexa was going because she really liked swords, and Clarke didn't really see the appeal, so she was assuming she'd just be along for the ride. It felt like a fun thing to experience, from an anthropological perspective.

But then, there were corsets. And leather armor. There were girls in chainmail bikinis--and just regular chainmail--and guys in kilts with patterns of war paint on their bare chests.

There was the guy who worked the liquor stall, all messy hair and dark eyes and miles of freckled skin on display thanks to his half-buttoned shirt, and the girl who worked with him, in a black corset with red lining and a fucking hood, looking like some sort of assassin barwench who could murder her and Clarke would thank her for it.

It's been four years of ren faires since then, Clarke coming once or twice a season, through college and then grad school, and she knows now that the hot barwench/assassin is named Raven, and that she's not going to be working at the liquor stand this year. She's a blacksmith as well (because, obviously, she wasn't hot enough), and last year she was dividing her time between the refreshments and the smith, but she said this year she was going full time selling weapons and armor.

Which means that hot booze guy will need someone else to serve booze with him, and Clarke thinks that could be her. Not to brag or anything, but she thinks she could get a lot of tips in a corset, and sell a lot of alcohol to drunk dudes who wanted to check out her breasts. Working with the very hot pirate guy would really just be a bonus, so it's not like she's wrong to not mention him, in her job interview. He might not even be there anymore. And it's not like he's her only motivating factor.

Which is good, because the man interviewing her smiles and says, "I think we'd prefer having you in costume work."

Clarke cocks her head. "Costume work?"

"I assume you're familiar enough with the faire to know some of the storyline. Every day, we play out the same thing: knights competing for the favor of the king and the hand of his daughter. Or son," he adds, "for our lady knight."

It rankles, enough for her to ask, "Whose idea was that?"

"Excuse me?"

"That the lady knight couldn't compete for the princess. Some princesses prefer ladies."

The interviewer--Marcus Kane, a perfectly nice guy, from what she can tell--tenses, just a little, and then relaxes, nods. "It's something of a compromise. I got enough pushback for having female knights, so I'm taking small steps. Which I know isn't much of an excuse, but it is what it is. The king has a daughter and a son, and we use gender-neutral language when we talk about the competition. If anyone wants to interpret Luna as fighting to win the princess, well--we don't say she's not."

"Or one of the male knights going for the prince?"

"Or that." He smiles. "We are very--we have a pretty decent number of LGBT employees. Believe me when I say this isn't the first time I've had this conversation. We all reached this solution together. It's not perfect, but it's what we can do for now."

"Got it. So--what do you want me to do? What's my costume?"

Marcus smiles. "I think you'd make a great princess."


The dress is, to put it mildly, way too much.

"I'm going to pass out."

Monty, one of the clothing vendors, grins up at her through his mouth full of pins. "Because you look so amazing?"

"Because it's summer and this dress is gigantic. Did the last princess quit because she overheated?"

"She's moving to Canada, so maybe. I assume it's less hot there. Seriously, it's cotton! It breathes. You'll be amazed."

"Uh huh."

"You get to be in the shade a lot. You'll be fine."

Clarke frowns at her reflection in the mirror. It's one of those giant, fairy-tale gowns, something straight out of a Disney movie, and while she has to admit it suits her, this was never really her childhood fantasy. She knows that, as a white girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, she fits into the princess ideal, but she'd much rather feel like she could work another look.

Ideally something with more of a corset. Her assets really aren't being used to full effect here.

But Monty was right, the dress does, at least, breathe, and the position itself is actually pretty fun. It's not what she was picturing when she decided to apply at the ren faire, but her fantasy of getting assigned to work with hot booze dude and the two of them falling in love was, admittedly, unrealistic. And she knew that, obviously. She hadn't really expected it would really happen, but she had thought she'd be in one of the refreshment areas, selling mead or turkey legs or whatever, fairly anonymous and unremarkable.

Being a costumed performer is different. She never paid much attention to the ostensible "plot" of the faire, She knew there were parades with the royal family, leading to the "tournament," where the knights perform various tasks. Clarke watched that sometimes, usually just for the female knight, without paying much attention to the whole backstory or what any of them did.

Now, she's an expert. As Princess Elizabeth, Clarke is the person for whom the entire performance ostensibly takes place. It's not a marriage thing, but just "favor," and whichever knight wins gets her favor, unless Luna wins, in which case Prince Thomas bestows his blessing on her. Each knight has their own basic personality, about at the level of a Saturday morning cartoon--Lincoln is the sensitive one, Roan is the arrogant one, Jasper is the goofy one, and Luna is the girl. They have a randomly generated schedule of who's going to win on any given day, and Clarke gets to pick who she root for, which is always Luna at the first show, and then whoever she feels like for the second and third. And then, between the shows, she's available for the guests, posing with little girls in princess dresses of their own, fluttering her eyelashes at drunk dudes who try to flirt. Anywhere she goes, it's a production, and blending in is basically impossible. She passes by Raven and hot alcohol guy a few times a day, but talking to them would be impossible.

So she gets to know the other actors instead, and she likes them well enough. Lincoln is an artist, so they have that to talk about, and Roan is a disappointment to his wealthy family, which is a much more specific and exciting thing to have in common. Jasper is best friends with Monty, the clothing vendor who made her outfit, and Luna is a little aloof but generally chill. Finn, who plays the prince, is kind of a flirt, cute enough but not really Clarke's type these days, so she's been trying to derail him in that complicated way she has to when he's not really doing anything overt.

It's mostly an annoyance, the kind of background irritation Clarke's been dealing with since she got breasts, but there is one upside: Raven decides she needs to be warned about him.

The ren faire, being a weekend-only affair, is kind of weird in terms of social progression; Clarke's been there for three weeks, but that's only four actual days on, plus a weekend of training before opening. Even when she's not on duty and surrounded by guests, she hasn't really had much time to meet people.

But Roan and Lincoln drag her out for drinks on her third Sunday, and Raven leans against the bar next to her while she's ordering a drink, crossing the unspoken lines between costumed actors, trade people, and refreshment vendors to say, "Hey, be careful of Finn."

Clarke frowns, looking her up and down in mild confusion. She didn't expect Raven to remember her, even though they chatted last year about her move from drinks to swords, and she hadn't expected the other woman to ever reach out, let alone about Finn. "What part of him?"

It's apparently the right answer, because Raven's mouth twitches. "I'd say his dick, but that's kind of the issue. He's 100% dick. And a total flirt."

"I noticed. Don't worry, I wasn't tempted. But I was having trouble--he was doing that plausible deniability flirting, where if I call him out, he can act like I'm just reading into it and I'm a stuck-up bitch?"

"Of course he was. He was probably trying to get to you before I noticed. We used to date, but he cheated on me, so it's my mission to make sure he never does that to anyone again." She pauses. "And, hey, if I can keep him from getting laid ever again while I'm at it, why not, right?"

"He cheated on you?" Clarke asks, before she can think better of it. Raven cocks her head, and Clarke tries a smile. "Sorry, just--if I were him I would have been doing everything I could to lock you down, unless you have a terrible personality."

It's something of a gamble, but Raven just grins. "Right? He's missing out." She studies Clarke. "I know you, right? From before this summer."

"I was a visitor before I got on staff. I ordered drinks from you a few times. And asked why you were selling swords instead of alcohol last year."

"There we go. Come on, you should hang out with us. There's only so much Roan any of us can take."

"And so much Finn," Clarke notes, following Raven to her table. Monty's the only one of them she's met, but they're all familiar faces, and they all recognize her too, make room happily and start introducing themselves. It's a weird mix of career ren faire people, the ones who move around the country, vending from site to site, and locals who just pick up hours over the summer and return to regular lives once the faire closes down.

"See, that used to be me," says Raven. "Until Sinclair talked me into taking over as his rep."

"Sinclair?" Clarke asks, curious.

"My boss, I guess. It's his company, anyway. He's the guy who used to run the stall, but these days he wants to stay home and I get to go around the country. It's pretty cool."

"What do you do when the faire's closed?"

"He's from around here, so it's different. I just work at the forge on custom orders during the week. When I'm out of town, I do networking shit. There are local stores that let us display, or we rent a showroom. Depends. Sometimes it's just a vacation. Hey, Bellamy!"

Clarke turns, following as Raven waves over--the hot drink vendor. He's wearing regular clothes now, which only does so much to diminish his attractiveness; the tight black t-shirt does almost as much for his chest as the billowing white tunic does, and he's wearing a pair of glasses that Clarke's really into.

Plus, he's looking at her, smiling with half his mouth.

"What?" he asks.

"We've got another teacher, get over here."

It's enough of a surprise to snap her out of lowkey ogling him. "He's a teacher?"

"AP US History," says Raven. "Like a fucking nerd. Have you met him yet?"


"Cool. Bellamy, this is Clarke, the new princess. Clarke, this is god's gift to alcoholics who are into dudes, Bellamy Blake."

"I like to think I'm a gift to non-alcoholics too," he says, dry. But he turns his attention to back Clarke, the full force of his smile almost too much to take. "Nice to meet you, Clarke."

"You too." She wets her lips, smiles. "Where do you teach? I'm starting at Arcadia in August."

Clarke doesn't consider herself particularly smooth or good with flirting, but she's fine at polite conversation, even polite conversation with attractive people. And Bellamy's pretty easy to talk to, engaging and interesting, with that talent some people have to make you feel like you're the only person in the world. And, yes, she's also thinking with some corner of her mind about how much she wants to get him naked, but it's not a problem. It's just thinking.

So when Raven comes back over, flops against Bellamy's back and says, "Hey, you want to get out of here?" it doesn't even hurt that much. Granted, finding out that the two most attractive people at the faire are together sucks on a personal level, but she might get to see them make out sometime, which would be pretty awesome. It wasn't like the odds of her hooking up with either of them was great, so this was probably the best realistic outcome.

Bellamy rolls his eyes, giving her a smile like they're sharing a joke. "Sorry about Raven, she's rude when she's drunk."

"Fuck you, I'm rude when I'm not drunk." Raven smiles at Clarke. "Sorry, it's just getting late for me, I have work tomorrow. If I want to get laid I need to leave now."

"Hey, don't apologize to me," says Clarke. "Definitely go get laid."

Raven salutes, and Bellamy rolls his eyes with a rueful smile. "Nice to meet you, Clarke. See you on Saturday?"

She raises her glass with a smile of her own. "See you guys later."


To her annoyance, knowing about their relationship doesn't make her any less curious about Bellamy and Raven, doesn't make her any less aware of them. And now they're aware of her too, so when she walks by Bellamy during the parades, he'll flash her a smile, even when he's dealing with customers, and Raven will raise her sword like she's swearing her loyalty.

And, the next Sunday, she and Bellamy have lunch at the same time, and he actually sits down across from her with his lunchbox, looking a little sheepish.

"Sorry, you can keep going with that."

She shakes her head vaguely, turning off her phone. "No, it's fine. I was looking at twitter and I know better."

He snorts. "That's what Monty says too, but he's a social media addict. I'm glad I never got into any of that, I don't have the temptation."

"None of it?"

"I don't trust it. My mom told me that everyone on the internet was a pervert or a murderer, so--"

"Probably better for your mental health."

"Yeah, I just get weekly updates on how fucked we are." His mouth twists up. "There must be better stuff to talk about."

"How long have you worked here?" she asks.

"Good transition," he teases, with a stupidly hot smirk. "Since high school. You're a regular visitor, right? I feel like I've seen you before."

"Yeah, for the last few years. I thought it wouldn't be my thing, but my ex-girlfriend brought me and it turns out it's really my thing."

"Yeah? Which part?"

"It's basically a bisexual paradise." He chokes on his laugh, and she grins. "Sorry, but it is! I get to enjoy everybody."

"And every body," he says, because he's apparently a giant dork. "But yeah, I know what you mean. I'm pan, so--"

"So you get it."

"I'm also just really into armor."

"Is it ever weird teaching and working here?" she asks. "Like, do you get recognized?"

He rubs his face, groaning. "Jesus, it's the worst. I mean, obviously, it's not, or I wouldn't do it. But I'm, uh--popular."


Despite--or perhaps because of--her overly innocent tone, Bellamy scowls at her. "People like coming to get drinks from me because I'm hot. Me and Raven used to compete over who got more tips. And it was fine when I just did booze, but now they've got me selling all drinks and students are coming up and flirting with me."

"What do you do?"

"Ask them about historical inaccuracies at the faire."

It's her turn to choke. "Does that work?"

"Fuck, I don't know. They keep coming back to check me out, but at least they're learning something."

"Have you considered just wearing a real shirt? I know that sounds drastic."

He shakes his head. "Like half my income is tips. No way I'm wearing a real shirt."

"So you're just living with the awkwardness?"

"That's pretty much my motto, yeah. How are you liking being on this side of things so far?"

"It's cool. A little monotonous."

"Yeah, you guys pretty much put on the same show three times a day. Finn giving you any trouble?"

"Just flirting. He really cheated on Raven?" she can't help asking.

"He's such a fucking dumbass. Cheating is always bullshit, but cheating on a girl who works with you? At work? That's something else."

"It was here?"

"Yeah. He was being friendly, she thought he was being flirty, and instead of correcting her he went with it. She didn't even know he and Raven were dating, so she was pretty pissed too. He made no friends in that one."

"Is that why Raven draped herself all over you last week?" At his blank look, she adds, "So new people will know you're dating."

"Oh, shit, no. We're not. Dating, I mean. I guess it's an open relationship? We don't care much about labels, but I don't think we've ever been on a date, and we're not exclusive, so--" He huffs, gives her another one of those self-conscious smiles that he seems to have down to an art. "You don't care," he says. He's wrong, but it would be really awkward to tell him that. "Anyway, most people here are pretty touchy-feely. And a lot of us have hooked up. It's just kind of the culture. That's why Raven warns people off Finn, because he's shitty at this. If you're going to be open, be open, but if you act like every girl you're with is your one and only and then fuck them over--"

"Yeah, that sounds shitty."

"The shittiest."

The conversation lags, and Clarke isn't sure what to say. Bellamy having a serious girlfriend was pretty easy to get; his having a casual one is complicated. Is she allowed to check him out now? To check Raven out? What's the hookup culture here even like?

Bellamy clears his throat. "Sorry if that made it weird. If you want to fuck Finn, you can, obviously, but--"

"I didn't want to, no. I've just never been great at casual relationships, I'm always impressed when other people are."

"It depends a lot on the other person," Bellamy says. "Raven and I are good at this, but it's not like that with everyone."

"What am I good at?" Raven asks, sitting next to Clarke. She's in her corset again, which is a lot to take in, and even more now.

"Open relationships and casual sex."

"Oh, yeah, definitely. You looking?" she asks Clarke.

"Not right now, but I'll let you know."

"Cool." She turns her attention to Bellamy. "How's the drinks crowd today?"

"Thirsty," he says, and the two of them move on from the conversation, easy, but Clarke never quite does.

She can't stop thinking about it.


Clarke had never really felt the bisexual stereotype of being unable to pick between people. She tends to have fairly focused romantic interests, crushing on one person until the feelings fade and a new crush rises. Attraction is easy, but her emotional connections are usually on single people. She was all ready for Bellamy to be that person, even before she found out he was charming and engaging and also kind of a giant dork, and he definitely is that person, there's no doubt of that. It's just that Raven is too, Raven with her stupid hooded corsets and her cocky smirks and her infectious love of metal-working.

And even more than that, it's the two of them together, a couple crush on two people who aren't a really couple. Two people who might sleep with her, if she could figure out how to propose it.

"Are Bellamy and Raven secretly in love?" she asks Monty, which is either gossip or step one of a still formulating threesome plan, depending on what he says.

Maybe he knows that too, because his response is a curt, "Depends."


"Why are you asking? What answer do you want? What do you want to do? Hook up with Bellamy?"

"No. I mean--kind of. But also kind of Raven? They're both hot, and I know how to deal with hot people in love, but not hot people who are in an open relationship."

"Well, those two things aren't mutually exclusive," Monty points out. "But I get what you mean. I've met people who do non-monogamy before, but most of them weren't very good at it. One person was more invested than the other, or one did a lot of hookups and the other didn't. I think Bellamy and Raven just--don't think they have to be exclusive to love each other. So I guess it's not really a secret," he finishes, with a shrug. "They're definitely in love with each other. Just not, like--you're my soulmate and the only one for me. So if you want to get laid, you're fine, but you're not going to break them up."

"I don't want to. I'm not even saying I want to sleep with them, just--"

"They're hot, I get it. I've slept with them."

"Together or separately?"

"Separately. Bellamy when Raven was still with Finn, and then Raven when we both got really excited about computer science one time. Before Miller and I were dating."

"I feel like I need to make a chart of everyone's hookups," she teases, and Monty laughs.

"Honestly, it mostly doesn't matter. All you need to know is who's exclusive, and that's just me and Miller right now. And who's not interested in women."

"Also Miller."

"See? You're good. And don't worry about having a thing for Bellamy and Raven. It happens to pretty much everyone, with at least one of them."

"Or both of them."

"It's hard to be bisexual sometimes." He finishes off the adjustments on her gown and pats her arm. "Like I said, I get it. And if you want to hit one of them up, I can recommend them both for fun sex. Just be clear about what you're getting."

"Fun sex?"

"And don't try to break them up just because you think non-monogamous relationships don't count."

"I definitely wasn't thinking about that," says Clarke. "Thanks for the pep talk."

"It's a public service," he says. "We've all been there."

"Yeah." It's not actually much of a comfort. "Sounds like it."


It would be nice to not feel like she's spending her whole summer thinking about how hot two people are, and, honestly, she's not, really. It's weekends, and not even the entire weekend. It's just that every time she walks past Bellamy's stand, he's smirking or laughing or flirting, or just relaxing, which is still stupidly hot, and every time she sees Raven she's wearing a corset or holding a sword and Clarke is really into all of that. And then they'll have lunch together and it reminds her all over that she likes them too, and then they get drinks and she can't stop thinking about the two of them making out, with or without her.

But the first time she actually witnesses one of them hooking up with someone, it's Raven and Roan, making out sloppy and hot in the corner of the bar while Clarke and Bellamy are playing pool.

"That really doesn't bother you?"

He's lining up his shot, not even looking at the free show. "What?"

"Raven and Roan."

"It really doesn't."

"I guess I'm not cut out for that."


She frowns. "Maybe?"

"I mean, you might not be. But I think it depends on the relationship. I've dated people I couldn't do this with, either because they weren't cut out for it or we weren't a good enough couple."

"I thought you said you and Raven aren't dating."

He looks up long enough to roll his eyes at her. "It's not my fault our relationship terminology is lacking." But he sobers, thinking it over. "Honestly, if she fell for someone who didn't want her to keep sleeping with me? That would be tough. Same if I fell for someone. We'd have a lot to talk about. But as long as everyone knows what's happening and consents, I don't care if she sleeps with other people." He grins. "Sometimes I even get to watch."

"Just watch?"

"We don't really do threesomes. That feels more--risky, I guess. We don't usually share people."

"So you don't fuck Roan?"

"Not since Raven started doing it."

"Seriously, do you guys have a google doc where you track this or something?"

He snorts. "Yeah, we have a big list to track names and who has dibs."

It's definitely a joke, but it's a joke that snags in Clarke's brain, like a fishhook settling in. "Am I on it?"

Bellamy's eyes flick up to hers and then back down to the table. "No."


"We didn't know who saw you first."

"No rock-paper-scissors?" she asks, deliberately light.

"Not for this one. Too invested."

Despite the fluttering in her chest, Clarke sinks her shot. "Good to know."

"Yeah. Happy to educate."


On the one hand, Clarke doesn't really want to destroy the delicate balance of Bellamy and Raven's relationship, especially since she suspects destroying that balance would have major shockwaves through the entire faire.

On the other hand, there's a part of her that thinks it wouldn't be an issue. Like Bellamy said, it's about people, and Clarke thinks the three of them could work. She's not sure she cares about having the option of sleeping with other people, but Bellamy and Raven doing it doesn't seem so bad. Raven and Roan didn't bother her, and Raven and Bellamy don't. She's not asking anyone to dump anyone else. She thinks she could fit.

It's still a risk, though, so Clarke makes herself wait. The faire doesn't last that long, and they only have two more weekends after her and Bellamy's talk. It's not that long to wait for a potentially life-altering relationship, and it gives her some time to read up on polyamory, on how these kinds of relationships usually work.

Anything worth doing is worth doing right, probably.

Her actual plan, when it comes time for that, is simple enough that it honestly might not even qualify as a plan; it's got two steps, if she's being generous, and she's absolutely putting all her eggs in one basket, because it's a great basket.

"Hey," she tells Monty. "I need a really good corset."

She's done with her princess duties for the day, even if the faire is open for another hour. She's a commoner now and can do what she wants. Which is, ideally, Raven and Bellamy.

Monty frowns. "Good like quality or--"

"I want my boobs to look the best they have ever looked."

He opens and closes his mouth, settles on, "Cool, we can do that."

Really, Clarke's shown a lot of restraint not doing this earlier, as "I would look so good in a corset" was a large part of her motivation for applying in the first place, and she's resisted testing the theory until now.

But it was worth the wait. Monty is really great at his job, both in terms of construction and in terms of his eye for style, and it doesn't take him long to find her what she'd consider a sexy princess look, related to her usual costume, but turned up to eleven. It's not inappropriate, less skin revealed than plenty of outfits she's seen in guests, but the color is great on her, her breasts look amazing, and she'd bet money that Raven is going to want to unlace the bodice with her teeth.

"I don't actually want to know what your plan for this is," Monty tells her, tugging her sleeves down a little and giving her a final once over. "But whatever it is, it's going to work."

She hands over her credit card. "You're the best."

"It's like you know I'm giving you the employee discount." He smiles. "Have fun. Don't break up Bellamy and Raven."

"You wouldn't have sold me the outfit if you thought I was going to do that."

"No, I wouldn't. So just have fun."

The second step of the plan is both simple and terrifying: she's talking to Raven. Bellamy she feels pretty sure about, even if their last conversation was a little ambiguous, but Raven is a little harder to read. She wants to believe, but they need to have a conversation regardless.

Ideally a pretty quick one; she's one of the few people, other than Finn, who hasn't gotten laid this summer. She's definitely due.

Raven is at her stall, which is already mostly empty. The faire isn't quite closed yet, but they had the closing ceremony for the season before Clarke got changed, and a lot of the crowd has gone. There's a guy who seems to be debating if he wants to splurge on a battle axe but that's it, and Raven is already clearing up.

"Can I help?" Clarke asks.

Raven looks up and does an actual double take, eyes flitting between Clarke's face and the overflow of cleavage out of the corset like she doesn't know which one is safer to look at.

"New costume?"

"I wanted a souvenir."

"Monty does good work."

"He does. I'm a big fan of yours too, so--"

The guy makes up his mind to get the axe and Raven rings him up while Clarke waits, leaning against the table.

"So, you seducing me here?" she asks, once they're alone. "I appreciate it, but you're going to break Bellamy's heart."

"He said you guys didn't do threesomes, but--I was thinking you might do an actual third. If I played my cards right."

Raven's eyes are sharp. "What does that mean to you?"

"Ideally? I like you. Both of you. And I think I could be okay joining in on what you have now. I don't know what it looks like from the inside, but--liking each other best, but not exclusively? I think that could work for me. For all of us."

"He likes you."

"Yeah, I was hoping. Is that a problem?" she asks, confidence failing.

She worries her lip. "I know I'm gone a lot. I keep imagining coming back from a trip and it's--you and him."

Clarke takes a step in, not quite close enough to feel her warmth, but nearly. "Or you come back and it's us."

Raven's tongue darts out, a quick little distraction. "Did you talk to him about this?"

"Not recently. And not very directly."

"And he hasn't seen you in that."

"Not yet."

She nods once, making up her mind. "Cool, you can help me clean up. I want to see if his jaw falls off."

Clarke is the good kind of nervous as they pack up, the kind where she's not sure what's coming next but wants to find out. If nothing else, she's pretty sure she's getting laid today, and she thinks her odds of continuing to get laid are pretty good.

Alcohol sales stop an hour before the faire closes, so Bellamy doesn't have a ton to do as he waits for the last of the visitors to clear out, just leaning against the counter, smiling when people look at him before reverting to vague boredom.

"Hey, can you leave early?" Raven asks.

Bellamy startles, turns to look at them, and his jaw actually does drop, although Clarke doesn't think she deserves all the credit for that one. Her and Raven together is a lot to take in; they turned a lot of heads walking over.

"Jesus, are you trying to kill me?" he asks.

"Knock you out," says Raven, unrepentant. "We want you alive for later."

Because he's Bellamy, that doesn't actually derail his thoughts; his eyes widen and then sharpen, and he looks between them for a second before focusing on Raven.

"You sure?"

"I know I don't want you dead." She shrugs, but it's not as casual as she wants it to be. "She says she wants in. Right?"

"Right," says Clarke. "If all I can get is a night I'll take it, but--I want a lot more than a night."

Bellamy nods, slow. "I can close up now, yeah. What are they gonna do, fire me?"

In theory there are end-of-season drinks, socializing, but none of them suggest staying. Raven apparently drove both of them in, and they have a conversation with nothing but their eyebrows that ends with Bellamy saying, "I can ride with you. You don't know where I live, right?"


"Cool, we can meet Raven there."

Once they're in the car, it's more awkward, the reality of the situation settling in. There's a giddy flutter in her stomach, but it's all mixed up with anxiety, with dry-mouthed anticipation of a drive during which they could all change their minds.

She wants this so much. She needs it to go right.

"You know you didn't need the corset, right?" Bellamy says, once they're on the highway. It's only half an hour back to his place, a little closer than hers. A minor blessing. "Trust me, we were both already talking about how much we wanted to hook up with you."

"Half the reason I applied to work at the ren fair was wanting to get a corset."

He snorts. "You know you can just buy a corset, right? You don't need to work here. Or seduce anyone."

"Okay, a third. And another third was wanting to get paid to wear the corset."

"And the last third?"

"You and Raven."

There's a pause, and she lets it linger.

"Are you taking me somewhere to murder me?" he finally asks. "Because that's a really long, weird game."

"I just thought you guys were hot. I mean, everyone was hot, but you guys were the hottest. It was a bonus. I figured you'd just be eye candy."

"And we're not?"

"You know you're not."

He lets out a long breath. "I know. So--What does this look like to you? Going forward."

It's not much easier to explain to him. She knows what she wants, but not if she can get it. "I don't really know. I asked Monty if you two were secretly in love. After you told me you weren't dating."

His mouth quirks. "What did he say?"

"That it wasn't a secret." She drums her fingers on the steering wheel. "I've never been good at--I don't know a lot about poly stuff. It's not something I've looked into a lot, and I thought I wouldn't be good at it. But what you and Raven have, that makes sense to me."

"What do you think we have?"

"You love each other, and you're sure of it. You're honest and open and talk about stuff. Monogamy seems a lot less important than just trusting each other." She wets her lips. "Raven's worried, though."

"She is. We talked about you," he admits, with a sigh. "Raven gets laid more than I do, these days. I haven't been as into finding other partners. And she travels a lot. She's worried that we're going to decide we don't need her. Or just--we're the core, and she's the bonus."

"That's what she told me, yeah." Clarke bites the corner of her mouth. "I can see why she'd worry about that. But it doesn't have to be like that."


"Let's say you and I just sleep with each other and Raven, and Raven keeps sleeping with other people. That doesn't mean we care about her any less, does it?"

"It doesn't mean that, but it feels like that."

"Would us sleeping with more people help?"


"So we just have to be honest and talk about stuff. The same way you guys already do. I'm not saying it's not going to be complicated, and probably hard, but--I want her too. I'm not trying to steal you away. I don't want it to be you and me, I want it to be all of us."

"Okay, yeah." He lets out this soft, disbelieving huff of laughter. "Jesus, I didn't even know how to ask. Neither of us did."

Clarke has to smile. "I figured. That's why I bought the corset."


It's been a while since Clarke slept with anyone. Her last girlfriend was Niylah, although it was a pretty casual arrangement, the kind that ended up being way more stressful than it was worth by the end. It's probably part of why she didn't really get Bellamy and Raven's relationship to begin with, because so much of what's defined her non-monogamous partnerships is a belief that they naturally don't require communication.

The more she learns about them, the more she realizes that casual is absolutely the wrong word for their relationship. They're as serious as any couple she's ever met, maybe even more so, with the care they take. And that's something she thinks she can do. It's about attitude.

Raven's already there when they arrive, sitting on Bellamy's couch with her feet up on the coffee table. It's a nice place, small but neat and warm, much more lived in than her apartment. It would be nice to spend more time here, to get a key of her own.

"We good?" Raven asks, the question directed mostly at Bellamy.

"As far as I know. You?"



"So, this is your first threesome?" Clarke asks as the silence stretches, since no one else is volunteering to take the lead.

Raven shakes her head clear. "Our first threesome as a couple. Bellamy had a threesome in college."

"Two girls or two guys?" Clarke asks. "Or three guys?"

"Me and two girls."

"So you have relevant experience."

"Kind of. It was like ten years ago and I'm not sure I was great at it, but everyone got off at least once. What about you?"

"I was a third for a couple I knew. Bi guys in college who wanted to double team a girl, so not that relevant."

"But hot," says Bellamy. Raven elbows him. "What? It is."

"I've got a strap-on Raven could wear sometime if you wanted to try it again."

"Maybe next time." He wets his lips. "You two should get started in the bedroom."

"What are you doing?" Clarke asks.

"Finding condoms and lube. And then watching you two make out in corsets."

Raven frowns. "You don't think dinner first?"

"I think I'm ready to get laid. We can order pizza after."

It sounds perfect to Clarke; she's been wet basically since she put the corset on, and she's more than ready to get her hands on Raven. She takes her hand, tugging gently, and Raven just rolls her eyes, taking the lead from her.

"You don't even know where his bedroom is. I've got you."

A shudder runs through Clarke, anticipation dashing up her spine, and as soon as they're through the bedroom door she's kissing Raven, hot and desperate, all her want coming out at once as she presses her up against the wall.

"Yeah?" Raven murmurs, tugging her in close, and Clarke doesn't actually know what exactly the question she was supposed to have asked was, but she knows the answer.

"Yeah." She pulls back, looking Raven up and down. "I want to eat you out while you're still wearing that."

"You and Bellamy are going to spoil me. He loves oral too. I'm, uh--I'm not the biggest fan of reciprocating, so--"

"So I can hit him up if I want that." She pushes Raven back to the bed. "What do you like doing?"

"Fingering girls."

Clarke settles on top of her for another kiss. "I can work with that."

Raven's hands are running over her back as Clarke's mouth roves over her neck when Bellamy returns, the dip of the bed next to them the first sign of him that Clarke notices. Raven is more interesting than the sound of footsteps.

"Having fun?" he asks, fingers stroking the hair off of Raven's forehead.

"She wants to eat me out in the corset."

"Fuck. She should."

Clarke presses a wet kiss to the top of Raven's left breast over the top of the corset and then slides down, pushing up her skirts to get a good view of smooth legs and dark gray boy shorts. She strokes one finger right between her legs, feeling the wetness even through the fabric, making Raven squirm.

Bellamy moves in, kissing her neck but still watching Clarke. "You're ready, huh?"

"I've been ready."

Clarke doesn't bother with a response, just tugs on the underwear until Raven lifts her hips and she can pull them off. The scent of arousal hits hot and heavy, and Clarke leans back in, nipping Raven's thigh, high and so close to what Raven actually wants.

"Fuck," she breathes, and that's all the encouragement Clarke needs.

She doesn't consider herself notably good at cunnilingus, but she knows how to get the job done, and she likes it, loves the noises girls make when she touches them, when it's good. And not only is Raven loud, but Bellamy is coaching her along, making sure she's vocally appreciative. The first loud moan when Clarke swirls her tongue around Raven's clit is good, but it's so much better when Bellamy says, "Tell me what she's doing to you."

His voice is already wrecked and rough, going straight to her cunt, and she grinds down against the bed.

Raven lets out a shaky breath, composing herself to respond. "She was licking, but now she's sucking. Playing with me with her tongue while she does it, like she's trying to kill me."

"But you love it," says Bellamy. "I know you love that."

Clarke rubs her fingers against Raven's entrance, already slick and dripping, and she just pushes inside, making Raven groan.

"What now?" Bellamy asks.

"Fingers. Not as thick as yours, but fuck, she knows what she's doing. Jesus, she wants me to come yesterday."

"We can take it slower when it's her," he says. "But I'd be eager too. She's been thinking about this."

Clarke's fingers hit just right as she works Raven's clit, and Raven jerks again. Bellamy moves his arm down, holding her steady.

"What do you want me to do to her?" Bellamy murmurs. "What have you been thinking about?"

"God, I want you to fuck her mouth," says Raven. "She'd look so good with her mouth full of your cock. And that fucking corset. You could come all over her chest."

Clarke presses down against the bed again, desperate for relief, and she hears Bellamy chuckle.

"Give her mouth a workout, huh?"

"She's so impatient," Raven says. "I want to make her wait for it."

"Wait for what?" Bellamy murmurs. "Are you going to fuck her? Show her you've already got a strap-on?"

Raven's breathless, moaning, but she still manages to say, "Does she get a say?"

"I think she's pretty into all of this."

Clarke moans her agreement directly onto Raven's clit, which is enough to tip Raven from close to coming, and Clarke keeps going as she breaks apart, the orgasm crashing over her fingers. She stays until Raven pushes her off, and she rocks back on her heels, smirking.

The expression lasts until she sees Bellamy watching her. Unlike her and Raven, he's naked, dick already hardening between his legs, and she can't help staring. It's a really nice dick, and she absolutely wants to suck it. Immediately.

Bellamy smirks. "You really are impatient, huh?"

"I've been waiting all summer."

"Come up here," he says, firm enough to send her spiraling into fantasies where he tells her exactly what to do and when.

She slides up the bed and he kisses her, wet and deep, one big hand tangled in her hair, firm enough to make her whimper. Raven presses up against her back, kisses her shoulder and then her neck, and Bellamy slides his leg between hers, letting her press against him, at least until she starts to rub in earnest, desperation to come taking over her brain.

"Not yet," he murmurs, but he pulls back, searching her face, giving her the chance to protest.

She doesn't take it. "I'm sucking your dick, right?"

He curls his hand loosely around said dick, and Clarke shudders, watching it get harder and thicker. Her mouth is practically watering.

"If you want."

"I don't want to ruin the corset."

"You can wash it," Raven says. "Trust me, he's come on mine before."

"So you can definitely get it clean."

"We're not ruining your nice new corset. But if you don't want--"

"I want." She wets her lips. "You're watching. Tell us where to go."

It's more theatrical than her eating Raven out was, Bellamy standing and Clarke on her knees in front of him, the two of them in profile, on display for Raven to watch, live-action porn. It's more of a turn-on than she was expecting.

"Anything I should know?" Bellamy asks.

"I'll squeeze your calf if you need to back off, but I like rough. You're probably good."

"Got it." He's got a condom on, which makes him the first guy she's ever been with who voluntarily put a condom on for a blowjob, but he and Raven must take safety pretty seriously. "Ready?"

Raven's stripped herself, Clarke the only one still wearing anything, and she's on her side with her hand already between her legs. It's absolutely the perfect setting, and Clarke turns her attention back to Bellamy, nods. "Go for it."

His hand slides back into her hair and she opens her mouth, letting him slide in. He goes slow, but steady, and Clarke doesn't stop him until she absolutely has to, squeezing his calf when she's nearly choking. This was something she practiced, a matter of honor when she had a particularly well-endowed boyfriend in college, and she's proud of her ability to take it.

"Jesus," Raven breathes.

"Her mouth is so fucking hot," Bellamy says. "Must have felt so good on your clit."

"She feels good everywhere."

Raven doesn't keep up the talk as Clarke blows Bellamy, but she does touch herself, and Clarke can hear her moaning, hear when she slides her fingers inside herself, the wet thrusting, at least until Bellamy's own pleasure gets too loud. She's the one to speed up the pace then, to get him to fuck her mouth hard, and he barely pulls out in time, fumbling the condom off and coming on her chest with just the barest jerk of his fingers around his dick.

It's not a fantasy Clarke has ever had, specifically, but she might have been missing out on that one.

Bellamy looks dazed, breathing tagged, but Raven doesn't need any time to recover. She pulls Clarke up and unlaces her corset, getting it off with impressive speed. Her breasts bounce out, free of the support, and Raven tugs the dress she was wearing off too, leaving her in nothing but underwear.

"Fuck, those look even better like this," Raven mutters, pushing her back onto the bed and pressing messy kisses against Clarke's breasts. "You like getting touched here?"

"Yes," she says, breathless, and Bellamy flops onto the bed next to her, cradling her jaw and pulling her in for a kiss just as Raven's mouth closes on her nipple. It's good, amazing even, but she needs to come so much it hurts, and she fumbles her own hand down, desperate to relieve the pressure.

Raven notices and beats her to it, pushing her underwear aside to stroke two firm fingers over Clarke's clit, and she comes so quickly it's almost anti-climactic (as much as an actual climax can be). But Raven gets that, slides her fingers down and inside her instead, thrusting slow until Clarke recovers from the first orgasm and then faster, harder, deliberately rubbing against Clarke's g-spot as she moans into Bellamy's mouth.

Raven positions herself so she can hump Clarke's leg as she goes, and they come almost together, breathing hard and heavy as pleasure shoots through them.

For a long moment, they're all still, recovering, trying to get it together, but then Raven slides off her and says, "You good?"


She kisses Clarke's shoulder. "I was asking Bellamy. "He can fuck you, if you've want another. I don't."

"I can just jerk off," Bellamy says. "It won't take long."

"Or you could fuck me," says Clarke.

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips. "Let me just get a condom."

She and Raven make out, slow and easy, while they wait, Raven idly playing with her breast like it's her new favorite hobby. Clarke returns the favor, legs spread wide where they dangle off the side of the bed, just waiting for Bellamy to slide into her.

He doesn't keep her waiting long, and she gasps as he slides on, stretching her wide, so wide, filling her up like nothing human has in a while. It's been so long since she fucked someone with a penis, and she didn't exactly miss it, not with so many replacements available, but he feels amazing.

"Yeah, we got lucky with this one," says Raven, watching the two of them with dark eyes. "He's really good."

"Yeah," Clarke breathes, still adjusting. "Oh fuck."

Raven just kisses her again, distracting her until Bellamy's all the way in. He takes a second, adjusting, and then he starts to thrust, a little too slow for her tastes. She wraps her legs around his waist, urging him on, and he gets the message, picking up the pace, learning down to kiss her and then Raven, their mouths and limbs a tangle as his thrusts get desperate and erratic.

Raven's the one who gets Clarke's clit, urging her over the edge right before Bellamy comes, and by the time she's recovered from the orgasm and the sensory overload, Bellamy's collapsed next to hear, grinning ear to ear.

"First one to get feeling back in their legs orders pizza," he offers, and Clarke laughs, kisses Raven, quick, and thinks, with some wonder, that this really could work.


"I don't see how you guys do this," Clarke says, watching Raven lace up her corset. It's the first day of Clarke's second season at the ren faire, and she's mostly excited. It's a little less exciting now that she lives with Bellamy and Raven, but she did miss the rest of her coworkers. She's looking forward to showing Monty she didn't blow up anyone's life. Quite the opposite, really.

"Do what?" Raven asks.

"Go into work at the faire every weekend without jumping each other. You look so good in that thing."

Bellamy presses a kiss to her shoulder and then goes to stand next to Raven, checking his own reflection in the mirror. "Who says we go in every weekend and don't jump each other? We just didn't show you all the good hookup spots last year because we were trying not to sleep with you."

"Although coordinating three people for hookups is going to be harder," Raven muses. "And more cramped."

"Hey, if two of us can get away, we should do it," Bellamy says. "Carpe diem. You guys have my blessing."

Clarke bites her lip, trying to hold back her smile. "So, this is definitely the year we get fired, right?"

"Sinclair's not going to fire me. I'd just get banned from the faire. You guys would get fired."

Bellamy glances back at Clarke, shrugs one shoulder. "I could live with that."

"Yeah," Clarke agrees, her grin escaping despite her best efforts. "I got absolutely everything I wanted out of that thing."

And it's really true; she's got a boyfriend, a girlfriend, and a corset. What else could she possibly need?