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written-in-flowers · 2 years

Text

Uninvited: Minjoon x Reader

Pairing: Namjoon x female!Reader x Jimin

Genre: Smut, mild angst/ Au: college, fuckboi

Word Count: 7k

Rating: M (for graphic sexual content)

Summary: Namjoon and you had plans to meet, but when Jimin’s apartment shuts down, two becomes three.

Tags: bisexual!namjoon, bisexual!jimin, threesome sex, cunnilingus, fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex (m. and f. giving/receiving), protected sex, a bit of voyeurism, a hint of BDSM themes, mild angst, confused sexuality, top!namjoon, bottom!jimin, no happy ending

Disclaimer: These works are completely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to reflect of label the member of BTS in any way. The events within never took place.

A/N: this is the second part of my bts!fuckboi series. I don’t this one hits as hard as Yoongi’s but it’s still kinda fucked. The same warning from before applies here as well. Men aren’t nice, and neither is Namjoon.

****

Fridays are the center's slowest day. The last place a college student wanted to be was a library study hall. The computers around the lines of the walls remained empty; the more studious people worked at the tables and chairs, others got in a few last minute tutor sessions before closing time. Namjoon checked his watch. It was only a half hour until Mrs. James, the librarian, called for the ten-minute warning. The university offered the center as part of the main library. Students could take advantage of the resources they offered; sit at the tutoring tables where people like Namjoon could help with various subjects. Most of them are teacher's aides or graduate students who wanted to make a bit of extra cash. Namjoon was the latter. It came with plenty of other benefits too. He can work on his own studies but the side hustle brought him within his favorite thing in the entire world.

They were insanely hot. He couldn't believe his luck. He'd been about to pack up for the day when they approached him. One woman had a little waist, big hips, thick thighs and ample bosom. A total baddie who smiled at him. Her lighter-skinned friend stood beside her, slender and lithe with his braids tied back with an elastic band. He assumed an athlete. Both of them stood in front of his semi-circle, smiles on their faces when they saw him.

"Excuse me," said The Baddie, "Mrs. James told us you tutored for science?"

"Yeah, yeah I do," he said, calm and collected. He wasn't in high school anymore. "How can I help you?"

"My friend and I are kinda struggling with our biology class, and we were hoping-"

"-You could help us out?" her friend finished.

"Of course. No problem."

He offered them seats at his table. Namjoon figured he could stick around for a while longer to help out students. A pair of super fine students. Namjoon honestly did not know who he wanted more: The Baddie who eyed him flirtatiously when he met her eyes or The Athlete who kept his interest in him more subtle. He wasn't a fool. It'd become widely known around campus that a 'total daddy' tutored in the school library Mondays to Fridays. The stream of women (and men) who sought out his help did not escape his notice either. His job suddenly became his main hunting ground. The bars and clubs along the college strip stayed secondary locations for weekend flings.

For most of his life, Namjoon liked college students, promiscuous people with loose morals. Not high schoolers or people in graduate school. He supposed it started in middle school when he watched porn for the first time. The very first video featured a blonde coed on a bed, topless and being offered money to show off the rest of her body and more. When he grew up, he realized women weren’t his only option. He'd go to fraternity or sorority parties where he saw hotties everywhere he looked. He'd visit college cafes or cafeterias, where he'd 'casually' bump into his mark and start a conversation. He liked their young bodies, so pliable and flexible he could bend however he liked. Most importantly, they didn't know. They weren't like the women his own age who would catch onto his game right away. These young college girls saw a charming, charismatic guy with a nice build and all sense left them.

Much like with you.

Namjoon spent the rest of the library time with The Baddie and The Athlete. He kept things friendly and casual between them, never letting them know his interest no matter how obvious theirs was. Eventually, Mrs. James kicked everyone out of the library, and he offered to walk them out, moving onto more personal topics. The Baddie belonged to an all-black sorority, and The Athlete to the brother counterpart; The Baddie majored in business and The Athlete planned on going into the education field. He'd been spot on about The Athlete; he was part of the college's track-and-field team. By the time they reached the entrance, Namjoon saw himself sandwiched between the pair.

"Before we go," The Baddie said at the door, "My sorority's having a party tonight, and I was wondering if you wanted to come."

"Ah, I'm sorry, but as fun as it sounds, I actually have plans tonight." Never accept right away. "I have some friends stopping by my place tonight."

"They can come too," The Athlete said, "If they're as fine as you, then they're more than welcome to come."

He considered this. He knew his friends never said no to free beer, free food, and a buffet of hotties. But, then you came back to mind. He'd looked forward to seeing you for a while now, and if he canceled, he might lose another chance.

"Tell you what," he said, pulling out his phone, "How about you give me your number, and I'll text you?"

"Okay," she beamed.

They exchanged numbers at the table, and he watched them giggle and whisper walking away. Namjoon finished picking up and left the library for the parking lot. Getting into his car, he pulled out his phone and put in the girl's number. His thumbs paused over the contact name. He wracked his brain for a name. He'd been distracted by her cleavage and backside to really put it to memory. This often happened with his girls. Giving up, he wrote "Library Baddie". Then he began driving. As he exited the parking lot for the street, his phone rang and he saw "Jiminie" on the screen. He put it on speaker.

"Hey Jimin," he said, "I'm gonna be kinda late tonight."

"Good, because we can't hang at my place."

Namjoon groaned. He knew what this meant, "Why?"

"Gas leak."

"Again? That's like the second time."

"I know, it's weird. But my super was like 'building is closed off until further notice'," he said in a mocking deep voice. "It's so dumb, but I don't want to blow up, so we can do it at mine."

"Which means we're doing it at my place," he grumbled.

"You are next in the hosting tree," he said. "Also," Namjoon noticed the distinct drop and sultry tone that came next, "Could I maybe crash at yours tonight?"

"Jimin, I don't know. I have someone coming over." Temptation compelled him to say 'yes'; to call you and tell you not to come. He hadn't been alone with Jimin in a long time. "And, she might not be cool with someone else there."

"Oh, another one of your girls, huh?" He teased. "What's this one's name?"

"Sexy Barista."

"Her real name, Namjoon."

"Um…uh, well, you see-"

"-Wooow, you really don't remember," he laughed. "Is she really that unremarkable?"

"She's not," he said, smiling softly, "Nice ass. Nice tits. She does this thing with her tongue…woof, you need to try it."

Jimin giggled and his stomach knotted, "You mean have her try it on me or have me try it on you?"

It was this. Just when Namjoon thought he liked women, Jimin pulled out the gay in him. "What if I said both?"

"Then tell me what time she'll be there. You have a better taste in women than some of our boys."

He chuckled, "I do pick up some seriously hot ones."

"And what about me? Am I another ‘hot one’?”

"The hottest one."

He shuddered thinking of the first time he hooked up with Jimin. It'd been at a house party they'd all gone to one weekend. Namjoon didn't remember the host's name, but they had a huge house with lots of rooms. He'd been a bit drunk, a bit horny when his date disappeared on him. Thinking back, he wondered if Jimin somehow made them ditch him. But, he recalled how Jimin's petit form felt pressed against his; how the curvature of his ass pushed right into Namjoon's cock. He’d never slept with a man before then; he’d experimented a few times, but they never went past kissing and hands. But, having Jimin so close to him, he’d wanted more than hands and lips. All the women in the house looked the same, while Jimin glowed and stood out in the crowd. He had an alluring charm that blinded him to anyone else. Namjoon forgot all about the sea of women in the house; he only wanted Jimin.

“When do you think you’ll be here?” Namjoon asked, turning into his building’s parking lot, and parked in his usual spot. “Sexy Barista should be here soon.”

“Oh, and you mean you don’t want me to walk in on you both and join in? I don’t see why she’d say no.”

“Fuck, Jimin…” he breathed out. “I’m not even in my apartment yet.”

Jimin laughed. He loved torturing him before they slept together. “I’m actually already here.”

“What?” he looked around the parking lot as he stepped out, searching for the short, black-haired man. “Where?”

“Outside your apartment. I thought you’d left the center early since it’s Friday.”

Why did this make him move faster? “I had some last minute students come up, so I helped them out before leaving.”

“Anyone worth talking about?”

“Eh, not really.” Were it any of his other friends, he’d be blabbing about Baddie and Athlete. But, for some reason, he didn’t want to tell Jimin. Suddenly, neither of them seemed as good. “They were alright,” he said, reaching the elevator and pressing his floor. “What about you? How’re things with that Kayla chick?”

“Bad,” he sighed, “She got fired.”

“No shit?”

“No, my boss said he was tired of her asking for days off every week and her being late to her shifts. I tried talking him out of it, saying he could just put her on early shifts instead, but he wasn’t going for it,” he said. “So, no more Kayla pussy for me.”

“She looked hot,” he replied, “Sorry, dude.”

“It’s okay. There’s this new guy that started last night. Super hot; has this uber twink look going on,” he said. He hesitated, “Definitely your type.”

Namjoon’s cheeks turned hot, “Eh, I don’t think so. I’m pickier with guys.”

“I figured as much,” he said, “Kinda hard to find other guys hot when you’ve fucked me before.”

“Park Jimin…you’re asking for trouble with all that talk. I have a lady friend coming over, and I don’t think she’d like having to compete for me against you.”

“Why? Because there’d be no contest?”

“No, I just don’t want her to feel bad about herself when she sees you.”

He walked onto his floor and spotted a familiar figure by his door. Namjoon hung up the phone, and headed over to Jimin. He wore a black hoodie over a large shirt and gray shorts; half his long hair tied back from his face, since he hadn’t cut it yet, and his face was free of his usual makeup. At his feet, he had grocery bags as well as a duffle bag with his belongings in it. Jimin must’ve known he wouldn’t be prepared for the sudden get-together, and Namjoon appreciated it. He looked beautiful, Namjoon thought. Dark eyes stared up at him coyly, and he stood up from the doorframe he’d been leaning against. Namjoon considered kissing him, pushing him to the door and sinking his hand down Jimin’s shorts. He’d started it after all. But, you were coming soon, and he needed to prepare the apartment for you.

The pair entered the apartment and Jimin began setting out the groceries in the living room. Namjoon noticed the lime tortilla chips he’d become addicted to and the case of Kloud draft beer; popcorn, chocolate snacks, and other alcoholic drinks followed. He personally ordered food, but Jimin was a natural party host. While Jimin set the party up, Namjoon went into his bedroom. He made sure he’d stocked up on feminine products for you to use, hand towels on the side, condoms and lubricants, and if he’d changed the waterproof sheets on his bed. He even sneakily checked the container of sex toys he kept on hand, and the restraints he kept hidden at the corners of the bed. He didn’t expect you to be a kinky sex kitten, but it never hurt to have things on hand for you.

“Still have that collection?” Jimin asked from the doorway.

“Some people like fooling around with toys,” he shrugged, “I like to keep things…interesting…hold up…” he rifled through the container, and noticed something missing. “The dildo I had in here is missing.”

“You mean this one?”

From behind his back, Jimin pulled the aquamarine dildo mold Namjoon made on a dare. Hoseok had bought him a dildo-maker for his birthday as a gag-gift, and Namjoon made it according to the instructions. It held surprisingly well, and many women liked using it when he wanted to stretch them open. He then remembered Jimin and him using it the last time they had sex. Jimin must’ve swiped it when Namjoon wasn’t paying attention. Namjoon stood up, smiling at his mischief, and reached out his hand.

“Come on, give it back, you little thief,” he teased.

“I think you need to apologize to the people I’ve been having sex with recently. They have a lot of competition with you.”

“Not my fault they’re subpar lovers,” he shrugged. “Now, give it back.”

“No,” Jimin pointedly put the thick head on the flat of his tongue, “I like it. I’ve had a lot of fun with it.” He swirled his tongue over it while Namjoon watched, “I like sitting on it when I jerk off…I like thinking it’s you fucking me.”

“Jimin…”

“Can I keep it, Namjoonie?” he pouted, giving it kitten licks and sucking it. “Please?”

Namjoon walked closer, and took the toy from him. He held the tip to Jimin’s lips, pushing it into his mouth as he backed him into the wall. “How about you earn it instead?” he breathed, keeping eye contact while Jimin sucked on the fake cock. “Be a good slut for me, and I’ll let you keep it.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“What about your little lady friend?” he whispered, “I don’t know if she’d like to share you with me.”

“You can watch,” he stuck the toy further into Jimin’s mouth, “With this in your ass.” He removed it, put an arm around Jimin’s waist and took him to the bed. All the blood in his body rushed to his crotch as Jimin rested on his bed, already unzipping his jacket. Namjoon immediately reached for him, hands roaming his body and grinding into his hips. “I can put those clamps on you again,” he muttered between kissing, Jimin’s hot mouth making him groan, “And that little head teaser too.”

“Namjoonie,” Jimin giggled, “Such a horny boy.”

“That’s what you do to me,” he said in a low voice. He pressed his semi-hardness into Jimin, “This,” he growled, “Is what you do to me.”

He’d been about to tug down Jimin’s shorts when the doorbell sounded through the house. You were here. Jimin gave a soft whine, and pulled the waistband of Namjoon’s cargo shorts. “Tell her to fuck off,” he said, “I’m the one who got you hard. I should get to have it.”

Namjoon chuckled, “Greedy.”

He pecked Jimin’s lips and slid off the bed. A plan formulated in his mind as he adjusted his pants to hide his boner. Maybe you’d see it and like it. Jimin remained in the bedroom, since he didn’t follow Namjoon. Namjoon took a deep breath, then opened the door.

You looked as hot as the day you’d both met. Wearing a striped t-shirt with a deep v-neck, he had a perfect view of them from his height. Your shorts went to the middle of your thighs, and it made him even harder. He’d first seen you in the campus cafe where he’d go before his morning classes; there you wore all black with a green apron over your outfits. But, you’d gotten his attention with your smile and kindness. Over the times he visited, he learned you were an English major, working your way through college like so many others. You had a dorm on campus, and you liked reading, writing, pop music, and fantasy and science fiction films. Namjoon knew with a few more visits, he’d snag a date with you, which he did when you bravely slipped him your phone number. You’d both gone out to the fundraiser fair on the campus grounds, where you rode rides, ate cotton candy, and had a generally good time. He drove you home, and you offered him inside for a drink. That’s when he banged your brains out for most of the night before slipping away the next morning.

He decided to keep you around a bit longer than most.

“Hey,” he smiled when you arrived, “You’re…here. Come in.” He let you inside, “How’re you doing?”

“Pretty good,” you replied, “Better now that I’m seeing you.” You both walked further into the apartment where you spotted the snacks and drinks on the counter top. “Having a party?”

“Later on, yeah,” he said. “We were originally having it at my friend’s place, but his apartment got shut down from a gas leak, so I’m next in the party tree.”

“Party tree?” you asked, putting your stuff down.

“My friends and I have sort of a ‘guy’s night’ every weekend, and we rotate who hosts. I’m sorry,” he went into the fridge where Jimin put the beers, “It was sorta last minute. I was gonna call you, but I-”

“-Got distracted.”

Jimin came out of the bedroom. Namjoon saw that mischievous look in his eyes again. “Namjoon can be a bit forgetful, and if there’s too much going on, he loses track of stuff.” He looked over at you, “I’m Jimin,” he stuck out his hand, “Namjoon’s friend.”

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you said, shaking hands with him. He noticed your apprehensive look between them both, “If I’m interrupting, I can come back another time.”

“No, no, it’s not a big deal,” Namjoon said, pulling out three beer cans to put on the counter. “It won’t be for a while anyways. Jimin’s the one whose apartment got shut down, so he’s crashing here with me until it’s okay to go back inside.”

“And besides,” Jimin took one of them from him, and cracked it open for a sip, “We all know why you’re here.”

“Um,” you laughed nervously, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You mean, you bring a hoe-bag wherever you go?” Jimin asked curiously. “Oh, honey, there’s no shame. We all do it.” He handed you a beer, “I don’t mind leaving for a bit while you guys go at it. I can see what Tae or Kook are up to-”

“-You don’t have to go,” you said. “I don’t mind. I just like knowing before I show up, is all.”

“Of course,” he agreed. “I really did spring this on Joon last minute, and we got caught up coming up with sleeping arrangements, so he forgot to text you.”

“Yeah, that's it,” Namjoon opened his beer and took a gulp. He’d hoped the cool drink might settle his hot cheeks, but they didn’t. He kept thinking back to Jimin with his dick mold, and what they’d be doing if you hadn’t arrived. But, seeing you standing next to Jimin, he couldn’t help imagining both of you using his toys. “Again, super sorry. Will you at least stay and hang for a bit? My friends won’t mind you being here…trust me.”

Especially Hoseok, who wouldn’t hesitate to flirt if he saw you.

“Sure,” you grinned, going to the living room and opening your beer, “I wouldn’t want to waste the time I did coming here…”

“Which would be a shame,” Jimin added, sitting there next to you.

Namjoon watched you and Jimin go to a couch while he grabbed snacks. His fingers felt numb as he opened a bag of chips. His cock grew harder thinking of your tits in Jimin’s hands, his smaller digits squeezing and sucking while Namjoon pounded inside you. You’d be such a pretty picture, and so would Jimin. He came over to the living room, holding a bowl of chips and took another drink of his beer. You and Jimin appeared to be in conversation already, his eyes looking at you as if he’d never seen anything like you before.

“-I’m a dance teacher for little kids part time,” he said.

“Aw, that’s so cute,” you said, cradling your beer into your lap. “How old?”

“Three to five-year-olds mostly, but this year I have a teenager class too since one of our teachers retired a bit suddenly,” he leaned in and whispered, “Drinking problem. A lot of parents complained.”

“Jesus, I can imagine they did. So, they came to class drunk?”

“Not drunk, but seriously hung over. They also sometimes didn’t come at all, and one of the other teachers had to pick up their classes. Our director got tired of it, but since they’ve been there so long, he offered them retirement instead. I said they should just have fired her, since she made our school look bad, but I guess being friends with the director’s wife gets you special privileges.”

“Psh, it’s like that everywhere now. All these boomers are always looking out for each other.”

“Totally.”

Half a lie. Jimin worked as a full time bar manager at Euphoria, a nightclub in the center of the city. He often lied to partners about where he worked to seem more interesting to them. It amazed Namjoon how he came up with stories off the top of his head, and all sounded believable. Recently, he's taken to telling people he worked part-time at a dance studio, so should they visit Euphoria and see him, he can say it's his other job. A hardworking guy with two jobs? People liked that in a person. Namjoon knew the truth, however. Jimin planned on having his own night club one day. He liked entertaining people. The get-togethers at Jimin's house always topped the others'. He'd host most often if his job allowed him the time. He'd buy enough food and drinks; movies and games he knew everyone liked, and kept things flowing. Him owning a club made sense.

"What about you?" Jimin asked you, "What do you do?"

"I'm working at the university coffee shop," you answered. "It's actually where Namjoon and I met." You smiled over at him, "He's a regular there."

"Aw, how cute," Jimin awed. "Yeah, Namjoon needs his iced americano in the morning or he's the crankiest dude ever."

"I am not," Namjoon smiled embarrassed. "I'm not."

"I've noticed it, trust me," you told Jimin. "I remember him snapping at a lady who'd cut in front of him to make a big order."

"She walked up to the front of the line like she owned the place!" Namjoon reasoned. "She had these little demon children walking behind her, and they had the same attitude!"

"She told me they were in a hurry," you continued, drinking from your can, "Because they were heading to the airport, and I told her that she had to get in the back of the line because everyone else was there before her. She said that those people didn't have kids, and that they'd understand. And then, Namjoon said," your laughter cut in the middle of your sentence, "Namjoon said, 'Hey, it's not our fault you decided to open your legs and have a bunch of crotch goblins!'."

"Yep, yep, that sounds like Joon," Jimin chuckled, nodding and looking at him. "He can be a dick."

"I was hungover," he said, "And this bitch and her little hellions were holding up the line. It'd been the night after my birthday party."

Namjoon shared a knowing look with Jimin, who nodded. "The one where Hoseok got you that dildo-making kit?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"Dildo-making kit?" your eyes went wide, and you turned to him, "You have a dildo-making kit?"

"Had," he corrected. "One of my friends bought it for me as a joke present. When we were playing truth or dare, he dared me to go into the bathroom and use it."

"Do you still have it?"

"He does," Jimin answered with a wicked grin, "He keeps it in his little toy box for special occasions."

"How do you know?"

"I found it once," he winked at Namjoon. Namjoon recalled exactly what Jimin had done when he first discovered the toy: He laid on Namjoon's bed, and slowly used it on himself with Namjoon watching.

"Dare you to go find it," you whispered conspiratorially.

"Ah, come on, you guys-"

"-Dare," Jimin said, finishing his beer and leaving the living room.

Once he'd left, you slid closer to Namjoon. You put your hand on his thigh, rubbing your finger on the hem of his shorts. His body heated up again at the delicate touch. "You two seem to be close," you commented.

"Me and Jimin? Yeah, we've known each other since high school. My friends and I all grew up in the same neighborhood, so we all went to the same school," he said, "And we all built this really close knitted bond. It's carried on since then."

"That's so sweet," you said, tracing a circle pattern on his knee. He put his arm on the back of the couch so you came closer. "But, I meant 'close-close'. He's been checking you out when he thinks I'm not paying attention."

"I don't know what you mean," he said, "Jimin and I are only friends. We've never...done anything like that before."

"You don't have to lie," you smiled, your hand going further up his thigh. "I saw your boner when I came in."

He coughed and shifted once your hand landed on his groin. He stared down to see you gently running your fingers over his zipper. "Did Jimin do that or do I really have that effect on you?" you asked him in a low voice.

"It's you, baby," he said in your ear, hand resting on your shoulder. "That's all you and those naughty pictures you sent me this morning. I was looking at them before Jimin showed up, and I knew he'd never shut up about it if he caught me jerking off." He put his own hand between your thighs, his fingers on your inner thigh, "But, no, baby, that's all you right there."

To keep you from responding, Namjoon brought your lips to him and kissed you. He kept it deep and slow. He brushed his tongue over yours and groaned softly when you sunk your hand over his cock and balls. He turned his body towards you, and gradually felt up your thighs to your shorts. He groaned again when your heat touched his fingers. Through the denim fabric, he traced the inner seam going right over your sex. The thickness of it bothered him. It kept you from him. Jimin usually wore thinner, lighter clothes when he came over. Namjoon continued kissing you as he left your pussy for your breasts, which almost asked him to take them out. The neckline of your shirt skewed slightly to the side to show off your bra, a lavender color that teased him. He kissed down your lips to your neck, where he sucked gently as he grabbed one of your breasts. They were like he remembered, supple and perfect in his hand. Like the rest of your body was.

"Well, you two start off hot and heavy, huh?"

You stopped when Jimin reappeared, holding the long dildo in his hand. Namjoon remembered him sucking and licking the toy not long ago, his petal lips around the tip. His tip.

"Do you blame me?" he asked, "I mean...look at her." He gave you another neck kiss that made you giggle, "She's so damn hot."

"She is."

"Is that the dick mold?" you bursted out laughing.

"Yep," Jimin came back to the couch, handing it to you. Namjoon watched you examine the thickness and length, aroused simply watching you handle it. "Big, huh?"

"It's definitely an accurate replica," you gave him a shifty look as you ran your hand over the shaft, "I can see a girl having a very good time with this."

"Why have that when you got the real thing right here?" he challenged, putting your hand back on his dick. He captured your lips again for another kiss, but peeked over at Jimin, who watched biting his lip. He made sure the petite brunette saw your tongues slide against one another; that he could see Namjoon's bulge as well as your chest. "Do you mind?" he asked Jimin, pretending to be annoyed.

"Not at all," he replied. "I like watching."

"You do, huh? Is that something you guys all do in your little friend circle?" you said, "Watch each other fuck?"

"Not all of us," Jimin's eyes never let Namjoon's. To him, you might as well not even be there. "Just Namjoon and I."

"’We’ve never done anything like that’," you mocked Namjoon's deep voice and then giggled. "I bet you've done more than watch too."

"Again," Jimin said, "Only us two. Taehyung and Hoseok are mostly straight, but sadly Jin, Jungkook and Yoongi are strictly for the ladies. That just leaves Namjoonie and me," he glanced down at Namjoon's body and back up.

"So, that's how he knew where this was," you laughed, wiggling the toy beside you. "I knew it. I totally got those vibes off of you when we met."

Sure, you did. If you picked up on 'vibes', you'd known what he was up to from the beginning. He let it slide and continued feeling up your chest, "I might like it every so often," he said, pecking your lips, "But nothing beats you."

"Oh yeah?"

You two kissed and then you started a trail from his lips, to his jaw, then his neck. His eyes met Jimin's, and he detected a bit of discontent there. Jimin's eyes glanced over to you, completely oblivious to the exchange, and then back at him. Namjoon wiggled his eyebrows and smirked, looking down at Jimin's body, then shifting his eyes to you at his neck. He crossed his arms defiantly, but a pout made Jimin shrugged defeatedly and slide closer. His lips met Namjoon's first. They started with a few soft pecks, and then the kiss deepened. Jimin's tongue explored his once more; the sensation stoked the flames deep in his gut while your hand continued massaging his crotch. You clearly noticed the two men kissing, and joined them. Jimin eventually turned him away so both of you kissed in front of him. He watched Jimin's lips caress against yours, gasping when you showed your tongues to him. He reached out for Jimin's chest, feeling through the thin fabric for the hard nipples and hearing Jimin whimper into your mouth. He immediately pulled away back to you, cupping and grabbing both your breasts and burying his face into your neck as you made out with Jimin.

"If your tits are so great," Jimin whispered, "Then I need to see what all the fuss is about."

Jimin hooked his fingers on your neckline and slowly pulled it down underneath your bra. Namjoon looked on as your bra followed, and Jimin's mouth opened at the sight of it. You whimpered as he slid his tongue over the very middle of your nipple. Namjoon did the same to the other side and gave a low groan as he latched his mouth on your nipple. Both of them continued sucking and teasing your breasts while two hands sailed down your body. Namjoon felt your grip on him tighten when his hand reached between your thighs again. Jimin's fingers fumbled with your button and zipper, while Namjoon simply rubbed the center where you're most sensitive.

"These are nice," Jimin said, kissing up your chest to your lips, "I get why he talked about them so much. I could play with these for hours too."

"And I wouldn't complain either."

He finished undoing your shorts, and Namjoon slid them down your body. Your lower half now exposed, both men felt your hot center. Namjoon's fingers slid over one side of your pussy, tracing the folds over your panties and occasionally brushing the clitorios underneath. Jimin massaged his on the other half, doing the same and even dipping further towards your entrance. Each man pinned a thigh to his lap and kept you spread as they bent down to inspect you. Namjoon threaded your panties through your slit, and Jimin began licking the exposed lips. You moaned and touched your breasts as his tongue slid up and down them, tasting the juices starting to seep through your underwear. Namjoon watched him. He watched his tongue, hot and pink, slip over where your panties hid your clit and flick it rapidly. It reminded him of whenever Jimin licked the underside of his cock. He groaned imagining Jimin's warm mouth on him again. Namjoon spread the lips apart, leaving your clitorius vulnerable to Jimin's invading tongue. Your panties still kept him from truly feeling you. Soon, Namjoon pulled the fabric aside and Jimin's mouth encompassed your pulsing pussy. Namjoon groaned, watching his tongue circle around your clit and lap at the space underneath it. The obscene suction sounds that came from him made him recall the time Jimin gave him a rimjob.

"Want to watch me eat her pussy?" he asked, kissing him. He could taste your slickness on Jimin's lips, and he licked every bit he found. "I know you like watching that.”

“Mm, please, do.”

Namjoon got to his knees in front of you, and dove right in. Your moans sounded throughout the room as his tongue continued the same torturous motions Jimin used. He purposefully moaned straight inside you to see your reactions to the vibrations, and it was beautiful. Jimin sat beside you, teasing your breast with his hand as he observed. Namjoon met his eyes as he pointedly spread the lips and attacked your clit with his tongue.

"Come down here," Namjoon moaned, swiping his tongue over it, "And eat her out with me."

Jimin moved down your body, keeping your thigh in hand, as he took the top half of your pussy. Namjoon lifted his hand to Jimin's lap, feeling a hardon through the shorts, and sunk in through the wide leg hole. Jimin moaned against your pussy as Namjoon began stroking him slowly. He went back to lapping at the flood of slick coming from you, teasing it back into your hole every so often. They both swirled their tongues over you, taking turns to flick at your clit and dip inside. Namjoon concentrated on the hard cock throbbing in his hand. He imagined the fun he could be having alone with it; the toys he could use to tease Jimin until he's begging to cum. He might do that once you leave. Jimin was right. Namjoon loved cock and ass. He loved Jimin's cock and ass. He swirled his thumb over the tip every time, which drove Jimin to whimper weakly into you.

“Namjoonie…”

“Keep licking,” Namjoon ordered him, “You look so pretty eating pussy. I don’t want you to stop, and neither does our special playmate.”

“Oh no, please don’t stop,” you moaned, pushing into Jimin’s mouth. “Please.”

“See? She wants you to keep going,” Namjoon said, picking up speed with Jimin, “You don’t want to upset her, do you?” he leaned into Jimin’s ear, whispering, “Or me?”

“No, sir,” he whined.

He looked up at you, and smiled. You were completely lost in your pleasure. You didn’t appear to care who ate you out, as long as someone did. Namjoon then slid two fingers inside you, jaw dropping at the walls immediately hugging his fingers. He kept a slow pace, ending each pump with a curl of his fingers while Jimin continued sucking your pussy. This new sensation caused you to start shuddering and eagerly grinding into their faces. Namjoon held you firmly against the couch and joined Jimin’s tongue in swirling. Both men occasionally broke away to kiss, making sure you saw them swab your juices between their mouths before returning to you. Your pussy clenched up around Namjoon’s fingers, which scissored to further stretch you. You were a vision of ecstasy and lust. He knew you’d do just about anything for that orgasm; you proved it the first time you had sex with him. He leaned back to see your body so vulnerable to them; you did nothing to fight them off as they took you closer and closer to your climax. He looked over to Jimin, who now had a wet spot on his gray pants from Namjoon’s hand pumping him. He reached for the waistband and tugged them down, Jimin sitting up only to help him remove them entirely.

“Fuck, damnit, Jimin,” Namjoon moaned, seeing his erect penis standing and leaking, “Why does it always look so good?”

He didn’t hesitate. He took the dripping head in his mouth and sucked the precum off. He continued pumping his fingers inside at the same speed. A stream of groans came from Jimin as he leaned back on the couch, giving Namjoon more space to bury his head in his lap. He loved the feeling of Jimin’s cock pushing on his tongue and sliding into his throat. He loved his nose reaching the pelvis, and sinking against Jimin’s skin, which he kept trimmed and neat. He enjoyed the soft prod Jimin’s tip gave his uvula every time he moved too far in, almost choking before pulling him out. He gave a few good sucks before returning to you, panting and worried you’d been forgotten. Namjoon eased this worry by switching motions: he fingered and licked you, while jerking Jimin off. Soon enough, you quaked and shuddered beside Jimin.

“Are you gonna cum?” Jimin asked, immediately coming to your side and kissing you. “Is our pretty slut going to cum for us?”

“Yes,” you mumbled. Your moans grew higher as Jimin suckled your breasts, adding a pinch to the sensations Namjoon stirred below. “Yes, oh God, yes…”

You came into Namjoon’s mouth in a dizzy haze. You clutched Jimin’s arm and the couch cushion beneath you as Namjoon held you close to his face. He greedily swallowed the flow into his mouth. When the last breaths of your orgasm died away, he kissed up your stomach to your lips, then spoke softly:

“Let’s go to my room. I have everything we’ll need for the next part in there.”

They took you into the bedroom, where they both finished undressing. However, as you laid on the bed, breathless and panting, the two men crashed into one another. Hungrily kissing, Namjoon’s hands fell down Jimin’s body to his ass, which he gave a hard spank and gripped. Jimin went up Namjoon’s arms, gripping the flexed muscles until he reached his broad shoulders. He pushed himself into the long member standing against Namjoon’s stomach, and gently started stroking again.

“Look what I brought,” Jimin showed off the toy he’d swiped from the living room. “Can I play with it while you fuck her…sir?”

He let the word ‘Sir’ drip with seduction. “I can wear the clamps and the cover too,” he continued stroking and kissing Namjoon, “I’ve thought of playing with it all day.”

“The lube’s in the drawer.”

He watched Jimin go to the drawer for the necessities, then went to you. “Looks like you’re getting the audience you wanted,” he sneered, crawling back over you and between your legs.

“I’ve never done this before,” you said, pushing your pussy up against him. He could feel your wetness before he even sank inside. Looking down, he saw himself sliding over it as if being polished. “You know, two people before?”

“I should’ve asked if it was okay, my bad,” he said. “If it’s not, I really could tell Jimin you’re not cool with it.” Although, if Namjoon would send anyone away, it’d be you.

“Or we could just, you know, stop now,” Jimin suggested, getting onto the bed and handing Namjoon a condom.

“No, I don’t want to stop,” you pulled Namjoon down to kiss you, which he did fully. “I want both of you.”

“And you’ll get both, baby. Let me just get Jimin ready, okay?”

He moved over to Jimin. Once their bodies touched again, Namjoon feared he’d never go back to you. “How about we start off simple this time?” He said, “For our special friend.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Unlike you, Jimin did not require tons of preparation. Namjoon took the lubricant from the drawer nearby and rolled Jimin over. He grabbed one of Jimin's round, soft cheeks and kneaded it with his palm. He pinched and spanked each side once or twice just to see it jiggle in front of him. Jimin spread out next to you, you watched as Namjoon squirted lubricant over the tight hole. Jimin mewled at the fingers slowly circling his entrance, but stayed perfectly still. His hands gripped the pillow as he felt two digits slide inside, a long groan following. Namjoon loved watching him come undone. He loved seeing that cocky, smug expression contorted with pleasure Namjoon can give or deny. Jimin’s ass clenched around his fingers and pulled them in deeper, which Namjoon had to refrain from doing. He knew with a few good pumps in the right spot, Jimin would shudder and shake all over. Then, his lovely throbbing cock would twitch and spray cum everywhere, leaving Namjoon without.

“I want your cock,” Jimin whined, forcing himself to remain stiff like Namjoon always wants. “Please…”

Namjoon glanced over at you, and found you slowly touching your center again. He knew he should give it to you a little before sending you off; it was only fair, since that’s what you came for. But, Jimin looked so good laying in his bed, ass presented and ready to be filled by him.

“You’ll have it soon,” Namjoon said, “But for now, be a good boy and keep this in here.”

Jimin grunted, but it was quickly cut off by the full force of the toy inside him. Angling his body sideways, he reached down behind himself and continued pushing the toy deep. Namjoon stared at where the bright colored dildo met Jimin’s ass. He saw the way his hole stretched around it, much like with his fingers, and swallowed it. Namjoon absentmindedly tore open a condom wrapper, rolled it on, and slipped into you. He heard you cry out softly, and instantly regretted the sudden plunge. He mumbled a slew of apologies before making subtle movements into you. His cock throbbed inside you, and forced himself to gaze at you while Jimin’s moans reached his ears. He let his thumb work on your swollen clitoris once he began moving faster. The hard nub easily rolled around his thumbpad every time he touched it, brushing up underneath and over whenever your bodies met. Your dripping sex made the clear condom glisten on his cock. He didn’t need one when he fucked Jimin. They both tested regularly, and kept themselves clean. Jimin didn’t care if Namjoon busted inside him, because nothing came from it…except the satisfaction of watching it leak out.

When your eyes fell shut, and your head tilted back, he knew he’d hit the right spot again. Namjoon almost chased it down. He glanced over to Jimin, who’d kept the same gradual pace. He saw Jimin’s chest and stomach tensing each time the toy pressed deep inside; he saw redness flushing up his cheeks and neck. Pink lips hung open in each breathy moan; dark brown eyes begged for him to come across the bed. Namjoon lifted your hips and pounded into a different angle, causing your orgasm to come early.

Under different circumstances, Namjoon might’ve tried holding off your climax. He’d stop, shush you softly, and let it sink back down before resuming his pace. He’d have you in different positions: letting you ride out an orgasm on top, pinning you down by your hips in doggystyle, holding you close and caressing you on your sides, and bending you into a curve and sliding into you while you watched. The box under his bed would not go unused either. He’d find other places to take you before sending you home. He’d relay the story to his friends afterwards, all of them eager for details and photos he might have of you (and he’d have them). But right now, as you stayed contorted and satiated from his efforts, his mind instantly moved to Jimin.

“Come here, you.”

He’d begun kissing Jimin deeply, his hand replacing Jimin’s and keeping the toy’s languid pace. “Hard or soft?” he asked Jimin, kissing across his cheek to his ear, “I’ll let you pick.”

“I want it ha-”

“Ugh, whatever,” you scoffed.

You slid off the bed, and stood beside them. “You know,” you said to Namjoon, “If you preferred guys, you should just fuck guys instead of messing around with people’s feelings.”

“Hey, that doesn’t mean I don’t like you,” he insisted, reaching out for you before you pulled away. “I think you’re great, and really hot. This is just how threesomes work. I can’t leave Jimin high and dry.”

“Then what’s her name, Namjoon?” asked Jimin. Namjoon sensed the coldness in his tone, “If she’s so great and so hot, what’s her name?”

“She knows what her name is,” Namjoon laughed softly. “She doesn’t…need me to tell her…”

You gasped, eyes wide in realization, “You don’t remember my fucking name, do you?!”

“Oh, he knew at one point,” Jimin intervened, “But then he forgets. Like I said, forgetful guy. He’d forget his head if it wasn’t on his shoulders.”

“Jimin!”

“You’re ‘Sexy Barista’ on his phone-”

Namjoon gave a hard spank to his ass, but Jimin only giggled at his and your pain. “Look, who cares about names, anyways? I think nicknames are cuter,” he immediately excused, “You can be Sweet Pe-”

“-Fuck you, Namjoon!” you shouted, smacking him across the face. “Don’t ever call me again.”

You muttered a very unforgivable slur, and stalked out of the room. “You should’ve put her name as ‘Slutty Bitch Hoe-Bag Cunt Twat Stupid as Fuck Whore Face Shit-”

“-That’s enough, Jimin.”

Namjoon heard you walking about the living room, most likely finding your clothes and getting dressed. He supposed that was the end of his fun time with you. He turned back to see Jimin no longer using the toy, but rather holding it in his hand. Namjoon saw the annoyed look on Jimin’s face, and frowned. He crawled back over to him, cupped his cheek, and kissed him softly. Perhaps he did like men more. He knew he liked Jimin. He didn’t stop him as Jimin rolled him onto his back and mounted him, sliding the stiff member inside him easily. The quick motion caused both of them to moan in unison. Namjoon was compelled to push up into him, but he maintained restraint.

“I’m going,” Jimin breathed, rocking his hips back and forth, “To make you cum harder, longer, and more times than that little skank ever could. You stay there and watch.”

“Yes, sir,” Namjoon laughed through a moan, hands up against the headboard.

And Jimin began to prove exactly why Namjoon should give up on stupid college girls.

#btswritersclub #park jimin #kim namjoon #bts #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts jimin #bts rm #bts namjoon #jimin x reader x namjoon #namjoon x reader

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thefanficmonster · 4 years

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What's It To You?

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: To some people, relationship labels aren’t important. To some they aren’t important only in theory. Well, Y/N finds out she falls in the later category, leading to a falling out with her boyfriend Corpse.

Requested by Anon. You’ll know who you are when you read the fic 😉 Thank you for the ‘angsty argument’ request. I hope I captured what you had in mind and I hope you enjoy the read. Love, Vy 🥰

The time is nearing 7PM and Corpse has barely eaten anything. I always keep track of his meals and time spent in front of a computer screen, making sure he doesn’t spend too much time exhausting his eyes or starving himself. He never notices he’s hungry until he takes a bite of something and his appetite grows in matter of seconds. The real battle is to get him to take that first bite.

I get up from the couch, walking into the kitchen. I open the fridge, scanning its contents for any ideas that might pop into my head for dinner. When nothing comes to mind, I resort to my last option - asking him. There’s only a slight chance he’ll be of any help. He’ll most likely say he’s not hungry or that he’ll make himself something late. He never does. I’ve gotten used to him being a man-child when it comes to eating. In the eleven months that we’ve been dating, I’ve force fed him more times than he has eaten on his own terms.

I go upstairs, stopping outside the door to his recording room to see if he’s talking to someone so I don’t walk in and interrupt. When no noises come from the inside I knock.

“Come in.“

Upon opening the door, I’m met with Corpse nonchalantly sitting in his desk chair, leaning as back as he can without tipping over. Arms folded behind his head, legs stretched out in front of him. The whole nine yards, suggesting that he not streaming.

“Hey.“ He greets me as he turns his chair a bit in an attempt to face me

“Hey, what’d you like for dinner?“ He opens his mouth to reply the millisecond after I have spoken my question. I already know what that reply will be so I hurry to prevent it, “And no, ‘later’ and ‘I’m not hungry’ aren’t on the menu.“

He sighs, shaking his head as though he’s disappointed that I caught onto his game. The smile that slowly makes its way to his lips, however, suggests that he appreciates my concern. “Grilled cheese sandwiches? I mean, if you feel like it.”

I smile, relieved that the usual convincing portion of our interaction on this specific matter has been avoided. “Ok. Be down in fifteen then.” I give him a nod before heading back out into the hallway.

Before I am able to close the door, I hear someone else’s voice come from behind me. “Hey Corpse, was that on your end?”

Oh shit, he wasn’t muted

“Yeah man, sorry. Accidentally unmuted myself.“ Corpse sounds unbothered by this, but I am a little uneasy now.

Corpse and I have agreed to keep our relationship by a ‘won’t ask, won’t tell’ rule - if someone asks him if he’s in a relationship, he won’t lie and say no, but we haven’t gone public nor do we plan on doing so without someone asking us about it head-on. Well, not us. Him. His friends don’t know me and neither do his fans. I’m not in the same industry. I don’t stream nor film YouTube videos. The most I do for that platform is help Corpse with some editing when he needs to have a rest. So, if anyone were to reveal our relationship, it’d be him.

“Oooh, who was that?“ A girl’s voice asks teasingly. “Corpse, what are you not telling us?“

By this point, I’m out in the hall but I left my ears in the room. I know I’m not in the right here - eavesdropping is most definitely not nice, but I can’t help myself.

I hear him chuckle, “Nah, it’s just my friend Y/N.”

My heart drops so suddenly for a reason beyond my understanding. I feel like a kid feels when it’s told Santa isn’t real - I can’t believe what I heard.

I hurry to get back downstairs as soon as possible and also as quietly as I can. It’s tough, running with a pit in your stomach and a knot of I’m pretty sure is tears in your throat. When I’m finally in the kitchen, the aforementioned tears are blurring my vision. I try to blink them away but accidentally send one of them trickling down my cheek.

I’m aware this might be an overreaction and if I stopped to think I could probably find ways to justify what Corpse said. But I’m genuinely hurt, and I hate that I am.

I’ve never cared about what others know about me or think of me. Same goes for my relationships. I don’t put labels on things nor on my connection to people. I am surprised and disturbed by how much the label ‘friends’ bothers me. We’ve been dating for almost a year now, you’d think calling me his girlfriend would be second nature. Guess not.

I swallow the hurt and surprise, deciding to keep myself busy with the preparations for the dinner I was planning to make. However, keeping my hands full and giving my eyes a place to look doesn’t stop my thoughts from eating away at me.

* * *

Twenty minutes later the sound of a door opening echoes from upstairs, followed by the sound of footsteps going through the hallway and then down the stairs.

“It smells so good in here.“ He comments, his eyebrows raising when he takes in the freshly made sandwiches on the kitchen island. “You’re the best, Y/N.“

“Hmm, aren’t you lucky you have a friend who knows their way around the kitchen, huh?“ I reply sharply, not even sparing him a glance.

In the twenty minutes I was left alone with my wilding thoughts I declared that I wouldn’t beat around bush when he comes downstairs. That I would address the issue and tell him exactly how I feel about it. What I didn’t plan was being so harsh. I actually barely contain a wince when I realize how sharp of an edge my words had.

I feel ten times more guilty when I see the regret that flashes on his face, “You heard that.” He grips the edges of the table, leaning down and letting out a sigh, “I’m sorry, I panicked.”

The anger in me evaporates, leaving room for the hurt to keep spreading and take over me. I was never really angry with him, I’m just upset by the fact that his immediate reaction wasn’t to refer to me as his girlfriend.

“Why would you panic? What’s it to you if they know?“ My voice is barely above a whisper now, the tears I’m fighting back are clogging my throat, not allowing me to sound as clearly as I’d like.

“What’s it to you? I thought you didn’t care.“ He argues back, his gaze travelling from the tabletop to my eyes. I see the guilt in all his features and his body language.

“I thought so too.“ I shake my head, “But hearing you call me a ‘friend’...’just a friend’ stings. I don’t even know why, but it does. It feels almost like you are embarrassed of me. If that’s the case you can just tell me, you know?“

In a blink of an eye he’s crouched down in front of me, one hand holding both of mine while the other cups my cheek. “It’s not. It has never been and it will never be the case. You are one amazing person, Y/N. You deserve the world, not to be stuck with me. I’m just...” He trails off, his eyes not able to focus on mine any longer, “I’m scared of how people knowing about us will affect our relationship.”

My blood starts boiling again. I know I need to get away from him before I reach the point of saying something that’ll hurt him, so I untangle my hands from his grasp, pulling away from him. “Weak excuse, Corpse. You know it will change nothing except make me feel more included in your life. I will no longer feel like I’m a house rat no one knows about.” I stand up, unable to look at him, and start heading for the staircase.

“Y/N, please! ”I stop dead in my tracks when he calls out my name, his footsteps following behind me. “Don’t be...-”

I turn around, cutting him off in the process, “I need to be alone right now.” I tilt my head in the direction of the dining table, “Sit down and eat dinner. We’ll talk...later.”

* * *

Now that it’s been almost twelve hours with no contact between us I realize that my reaction was justified only to a certain extent. I understand his concerns and I could’ve expressed mine a little more calmly and in a lot less accusatory manner. But what happened happened and all I can do now is go over to him and apologize, establish a proper communication to resolve the issue that I so stupidly blew out of proportion.

My phone died sometime during the night and has been sitting on the charger but still turned off for a while. I go over to it and press-hold the start button. While it’s powering up I start changing my from my pajamas into my regular clothes, noticing a small stain on my shirt in the process. As I’m examining the stain, my phone starts going crazy with notifications, causing me to jump and drop my shirt.

“Fucking hell.” I mumble, disconnecting my phone from the charger and looking at the huge list of notifications on my lock screen. They are all alerts of new followers, likes and tags, non from people I know. Non except one.

@ corpse_husband tagged you in a post

Wait what?

I tap the notification which leads me to a picture Corpse posted two hours ago. It’s a picture of me taken in the living room without my knowledge. I’m an oversized sweater and yoga pants, my hair in a messy braid and my attention caught by the book in my hands. My glasses have slipped a bit down my nose, suggesting that I’m too concentrated on the contents of the pages in front of me that I haven’t noticed.

We started off as friends but it didn’t take long for her to become my best friend. And then she stole my heart. I know you’ll read this eventually, Y/N. So...hi. Love you.

PS - the sandwiches were bomb 🖤

I’m more than caught off guard. Like a surprise hug from behind, warmth spreading all throughout my body.

Without a second of hesitation I put my phone down and run to the bedroom door. However, I don’t make it very far considering I nearly run straight into Corpse’s chest as I exit the room. He catches me before I knock him straight to the ground, thankfully.

“Aren’t you a rocket this morning. Where are you headed?“ He chuckles, holding onto my upper arms.

One look at his smile, a single word out of his mouth and I’m melting. I walk straight into him, wrapping my arms around his torso, hiding my face in his chest. He comfortably rests his chin on the top of my head, not asking any further questions until I finally answer.

“Right here. I was heading for you.“ I whisper before I pull away enough to be able to look him in the eyes. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I was being childish and overdramatic and I’m sorry about all I said. I was really upset.“

“It’s ok, baby. I’m sorry for making you upset in the first place. I understand now how much it means to you.“ He caresses my cheekbone with the back of his hand. “I...um...tried to make things right by...“

I push up on my toes, pressing my lips against his, putting an end to his timid stuttering. “I saw it.” I mumble in the kiss.

“Did you like it?“

“I loved it.“

“Did you read the comments?“

My heart skips a beat when I hear that dreaded term. Just the thought of reading through the comments terrifies me. I tell myself that some strangers’ words aren’t gonna have an impact on me, but I know they will. Especially since these ‘strangers’ mean so much to Corpse.

I shake my head. He pulls away, taking my hand and leading me towards the living room. “You have to. You’re gonna love them.”

I reluctantly follow him, plopping down on the couch next to him as he pulls out his phone and scrolls through the comment section of the picture he posted. He was right. All these people have said such things about me and about our relationship. Some verified names are also there, sharing their support much like the fans.

“See, this is why I was nervous. I’ll have to do duels for your attention now.“ He glances at me, leaning in and kissing my temple as he sometimes does so impulsively.

“You don’t do duels when you are already sitting at the throne. Right next to me.“ I once again capture his lips with mine, tempted to never pull away, but also tempted to keep reading the comments.

Damn, he might be right about the duels.

He takes his phone from me setting it aside as he slowly lifts me and settles me in his lap, never letting our lips detach.

Nevermind. Fuck the duels

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @itsminniekat @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby.

Day 1: The Case Of The Mysterious Shrinking Sweater.

Warnings: Bad Language words

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: So this all came about as myself, @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @jennmurawski13 saw a post about Ransom doing everyday things…and yeah, it kinda spiralled. The series will consists of one-shots and drabbles, all light hearted…and the occasional little bit of smut thrown in for your pleasure and we hope a nice countdown to Christmas after what has been an utter shit-show of a year.

We will be taking it in turns to alternate posting so keep your eyes peeled for the next instalments as they arrive. I’ll be re-blogging and tagging my list.

Series Masterlist.

People say that being pregnant was an enjoyable experience, that you glowed and bloomed. But right now the only thing blooming was the feeling of nausea in the pit of your stomach. You lay still, hoping that it would go away, but as usual it didn’t. Swinging your legs off the side of your huge bed, you hurried barefoot over the plush carpet of the bedroom you shared with your husband before dropping with a thud to the floor of the en-suite, emptying the contents of your stomach into the porcelain bowl of the toilet. You repeated the motion again and again until you were retching dry air, your eyes watering, throat stinging and you let out a little sob.

At almost 22 weeks pregnant, this was ridiculous. The whole morning sickness was supposed to have eased off by now, but not for you. Oh no. Mind you, what else were you to expect given that you were expecting his baby.

The spawn of Satan…

“Y/N?” your husband’s deep baritone hit your ears and you turned to look up at him as he stood in the doorway, clad only in his boxers. Strong thighs gave way to a tapered waist, a flat yet slightly soft stomach ran into the hard planes of chest muscle and sculpted arms from years of playing polo (God forbid the asshole do any other form of manual exercise, well apart from the obvious one that got you into this mess in the first place that is). Broad shoulders stretched either side of a strong neck which supported that damningly handsome face with the jawline that could cut glass and those deep blue eyes that had ruined your panties the first time you’d seen them.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale was a beautiful bastard. And he knew it.

“You ok?” he asked. You narrowed your eyes before a fresh wave of nausea hit you and you retched once more.

“Do I look ok?” you shot back, sinking back onto your heels, wiping at your face. You felt Ransom move from the doorway and then heard the tap running.

“Here.” One hand settled between your shoulder-blades, the other handed you a glass of water as Ransom knelt besides you, his blue eyes bearing the warmth that he reserved only for you. You took the drink without a thanks, the usual sarcasm he would display at such an action remained unsaid as you drained the glass and passed it back. “Can I do anything else?”

“Fast forward to January next year so the baby’s here?” you grumbled “I can’t take another damned 4 months or whatever of this, Ransom!”

“Sorry Princess.” He chuckled, “I can’t help you there.” “I hate you.”

“So you keep saying.” He shrugged “But the fact you’re pregnant with my son…kinda proves that you don’t.”

“We were drunk. Besides, hate fucking is a thing.”

“Is hate marrying?”

“Yup.” You nodded. “I only married you so I could divorce you for your money.”

“Well that was almost 2 years ago so why you still here?” he drawled back and you looked at him, snorting as a smirk spread across his face before he tossed his head slightly to throw back the strands of his hair that had fallen forward over his forehead “Thought so.”

“Asshole.”

With a roll of his eyes Ransom helped you to your feet, glancing down at your chest, your swollen breasts visible down the front of your camisole top. His eyebrow arched a little as he raised his head to meet your eyes and you snorted.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Oh come on baby!” he whined, his hands falling to your hips, pushing up the silk of the top you were wearing, his thumbs skating over the curve of your bump “You know what seeing you like this does to me.”

“Seeing me like what? Red faced with puke in my hair?”

“Yeah the puke not so much.” He wrinkled his face, “But I can think of an arrangement here that could potentially eliminate that particular issue.”

“You’re not fucking me in the shower.” You shook your head.

“But…”

“No buts Ransom.” You looked at him as he glared back, his face now wearing the usual petulant expression he bore when he didn’t get his own way “Stop being a brat. I’m up now and I got stuff to do.”

“Yeah? Like what?” he folded his arms. You gave a groan of exasperation.

“I have a conference call with my boss at midday…”

“It’s a Saturday.”

“I know that, but we have a big case…”

“You don’t need to work, tell him to fuck off.”

As usual you ignored Ransom’s dig about your job. He could never understand why you insisted on keeping your role as a Legal Secretary, but then again what was to be expected from the trust fund Man-Baby who had never worked a day in his life. “And there’s a pile of laundry to do.”

“I don’t know why you won’t let me hire a maid….”

“I don’t WANT A FUCKING MAID!” you exploded. Ransom’s eyebrows shooting upwards slightly was the only reaction to your shouting that he gave. “This is our home...”

“Well with the baby on the way, maybe you might want to reconsider that stance.”

“Or maybe you could start pulling your weight.” You jabbed him in his chest. He glanced down at your finger, his eyebrow arched as he looked back at you.

“Pulling my weight?”

“Yes.”

“Exactly how?”

“I dunno…how about you start performing those little real life tasks that normal people do Ransom? You know, the laundry, cleaning the bathroom, loading the dishwasher, making the bed, cooking breakfast or dinner…”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He scoffed and you groaned “You know I can’t cook.”

“How do you think I learned?” you shook your head, before rubbing at your temple. “I practiced.”

“Yeah, not gonna happen Princess.”

“What a surprise” you shrugged “God forbid Hugh Ransom Drysdale get his hands dirty.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.” He snapped and you snorted. Of all the names you called him, it was his actual name that riled him so much. It was ridiculous, but also too good an opportunity to pass up. He was an asshole at times, and you took none of his shit. You never had done, not since that fateful day you met in that lecture hall at Harvard some 10 years or so ago. Truth be told, he’d often admitted it was the fact you gave him nothing but shit, called him out and basically ignored him for 6 months, despite the fact that you desperately wanted him to do very rude things to you. Your ambivalence provided him with a challenge and he pursued you with a dogged determination which you eventually gave in to towards the end of your first year of Study.

“Why not?” you shrugged, deciding to poke the bear a little more because, well, you could…that and you kind of enjoyed watching that vein pop in his neck when he was pissed “Isn’t that what the help call you? I mean I might as well be your help all things considered.”

“You’re my fucking wife.” Ransom spoke through grit teeth, his jaw set, neck strained (ah, there was that vein!)

“Well here’s a novel idea.” You smiled up at him “Why don’t you start acting like I am instead of some glorified housekeeper that you fuck and keep in your bed.”

“Ok, I’m gonna let that slide due to hormones.” Ransom’s hands fell to his hips.

“You’re gonna let it slide?” you scoffed

“Yes.”

“Whatever.” You took a deep breath “Now get out I need a shower.”

“So….just so we’re on the same page, you don’t want me to-“

“NO RANSOM!” you growled, shoving his chest. He sniggered, stepped back with his hands up, palms open as he backed out of the door, closing it behind him.

*****

Ransom could hear Y/N’s voice as it drifted softly through the closed door of the study into the hallway and he rolled his eyes. Her boss was a jerk, making her call in at midday on a fucking weekend, all because he was too incompetent to cope himself. She should be curled up on the sofa, watching junk, eating crap, wearing nothing but one of his sweaters. She’d been looking for her favourite one before, cursing when she’d realised it was in the laundry hamper and mumbling about how she’d pop it into the machine later.

“How about you start performing those little real life tasks that normal people do Ransom? You know, do the laundry…”

Ransom paused by the stairs, before he smirked a little. “Oh you’re gonna eat your words, Princess.” He mumbled, before he bolted upstairs and into their bedroom, through to the en-suite. Tipping the hamper up on its side he looked down at the pile of clothes and frowned. Y/N normally sorted them into separate piles, but he wasn’t sure how…or why now he thought about it.

Fuck it, there was nothing google couldn’t solve.

He soon found out, thank you Housewives Online, that they needed to be sorted according to colours. Whites, brights and darks. So, as his sweater was blue it could go in the colours pile. He nudged the other two piles to the side of the room with his foot before he gathered the one he wanted in his arms, wrinkling his nose at the fact he actually had dirty clothes in his hands and made his way downstairs. He wandered through the kitchen and into the utility room at the back, before he stuffed the items into the machine and then looked around for the detergent. He found it on a shelf over the back of the room along with the fabric softener. Grabbing them both he then paused as he realised he didn’t actually know where it went.

Okay, so this had to be a process of elimination. He pulled open the little drawer on the front and smirked as he noticed the sections were labelled.

“Piece of cake.” He poured in what he deemed enough of each and then shut it, before he looked at the digital dials on the front.

“For fucks sake…” he grumbled, punching a few buttons. Eventually the display kicked in, offering him a one hour-thirty hot wash.

“Well, who washes clothes in cold water?” he shrugged, pressing the green button. As he stood back the machine kicked into life and Ransom nodded, congratulating himself, before he decided he’d earned himself a beer.

****

“Son of a…” you heard the curse as you opened the door to the study and frowned. Whilst your call had lasted a little longer than it should have, surely Ransom couldn’t have gotten himself into that much trouble in the space of two hours. You followed his string of expletives down the hall, through the kitchen and into the laundry room to find Ransom holding what looked like a smaller version of his sweater in his hands.

“What are you doing?” you frowned.

“Singing a duet with Beyonce, what does it look like I’m doing?” he snapped.

“It looks like you’re doing laundry.” You ignored his shitty comment and arched an eyebrow, one hand falling to your small bump.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Where did you get that little…” you trailed off as you realised that it wasn’t a smaller version of his gorgeous navy blue, soft woolly number in his hands, it WAS his gorgeous navy blue, soft woolly number “You shrunk your sweater?” He glared at you as you started to laugh “Oh my god, you dumbass!”

“It wasn’t me it was that fucking shitty machine.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the machine.”

“Well why did it shrink then?”

“What programme did you put it on?”

“Programme?” he frowned “I just turned it on.”

With a sigh you rubbed at your temple “There are different settings depending on what you’re washing.” You stated “That’s wool. It should have been on a cool cycle.”

Ransom looked at the item in his hand and you watched as his shoulders sagged a little. “I wanted it to be nice and clean for you to wear later.” He sighed as he peeked up at you, a strand of hair falling over to his brow. Your heart instantly melted, little gestures like this from him meant the world as it was his way of showing he cared. He could buy you all the expensive shit in the world but these were the little things you craved.

“Oh baby!” you chuckled as you stepped forward, leaning up to kiss his cheeks. “It was a nice thought…” you took the sweater off him and looked at it “But even I don’t think I’ll fit into that. It’s tiny.”

Ransom looked at it before his face suddenly curled into a smile “Baby boy tiny?”

You let out a laugh “Maybe not baby boy tiny, but little child boy tiny, sure.”

“We’ll save it for him then.” He said, tossing it down into the basket of wet items that needed to be dried. “His first hand-me-down.”

You smiled as his hands dropped to your hips and pulled you closer. “You’re a big softy really, aint you?” you reached up to brush that stubborn strand of hair back of his forehead and he shrugged before he grinned, rocking his pelvis forward.

“I won’t be soft for long.” His head dropped and he nipped at your ear “Let me show you what Husband chore I’m actually good at.”

#real life tasks with ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fic

361 notes · View notes

spencer-reid-in-a-pool · 3 years

Text

Three’s a Crowd

Summary: When Geralt leaves you and Jaskier behind to go hunt, you are pulled into spending the day in town with Jaskier. Fluff and mischief ensues.

Warnings: None!

Pairings: Jaskier x genderless reader *(see A/N)

Square Filled: Kissed to keep quiet

Word Count: 2,595

A/N: Here is my second submission for the 2021 Witcher Bingo! @thewitcherbingo While this is a genderless reader fic, there is a scene involving the reader with jewelry, so that could be seen as “feminine” if you really squint. Of course, boys and theys can wear jewelry too! Also, thank you to @toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account for letting me use a hilarious phrase they came up with!

Tags: @ayyyyitswednesdaymydoods @blackjay04 @mxsmwndr @bravelittlesunflower @weaselbee04

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

Truth be told, I was glad when I realized Geralt had left without us. Were my feelings hurt? A little. But I forgot about it when I realized it meant I got to sleep in.

However, I was only a few minutes into my next bout of sleep when the door to my room came crashing open.

“(Y/N)!” the cause of the commotion yelled. Jaskier.

I didn’t even open my eyes. I should have known this would happen. Sleeping in? Never heard of it.

“What?” I snapped.

The door closed and I heard footsteps coming closer. Then all of a sudden, the covers were yanked off my body and I felt his rough hands shaking me.

“Geralt left without us! Can you believe him?”

My eyes shot open and I pulled the covers back over. But not before glaring at Jaskier, who looked genuinely concerned about the whole thing.

“Yes, actually, I can believe him. And I was trying to sleep in. Do you mind?”

Jaskier scoffed and took a few steps back, raising his hands in an apology.

“Fine, fine. I see that I am more worked up about it than you are. Although normally it is just me that you two tend to leave behind,” he said, a bit of a sad look gracing his features. But in a split second it was gone and replaced with a much happier one. A mischievous one. Oh no.

“Come on, let’s go find something to do! I cannot simply sit in this dusty old inn, wasting away as the hours go by,” said Jaskier as he fell onto the foot of my bed dramatically. “I am far too beautiful and talented for that.”

I sighed. “If I come with you, will you be quiet?”

“Absolutely not.”

Well, at least he was honest.

The town was far more active than I expected it to be at this time of day. I wonder what there was to do.

Currently, I trailed behind Jaskier through the groups of people crowding around the shops and stalls in the market. At least he was easy to spot with his lute strapped to his back.

“Jaskier,” I called to him. I didn’t think he would hear me, but he stopped and turned to look for me.

Once I caught up, I huffed and said, “Do you honestly carry that thing everywhere we go?”

He gave me a look as if to tell me I was insane.

“Of course! You never know when musical inspiration might strike.”

I rolled my eyes, but honestly it was one of my favorite things about him. His antics never failed to make me laugh.

“So do you have a plan for us, or are we to wander aimlessly through the town square?”

“Does this not suit you, my friend? Oh please, do tell me what sits so heavily on your heart!” Jaskier announced dramatically.

I laughed and he smiled back at me. How childish.

“Fine. I want to find some food. Lead the way, lute boy.”

Jaskier gasped indignantly. But there was a twinkle in his eye that let me know he was happy. We often played this type of game with each other. Feigning annoyance or being dramatic or something of the sort to make the other laugh. It was almost a contest, although there was never a clear winner. Simply spending time with the other was enough.

“Anything for Your Majesty,” Jaskier declared with a bow.

Eventually we came to a stall that looked to be selling sweets. The colors and textures of the food caught my eye from afar, and as soon as I saw it I grabbed the sleeve of Jaskier’s doublet to pull him over.

“Oi, this was very expensive you know. Try not to rip it, hmm?”

Ignoring his comment, I continued to pull him over until we were in front of it.

“Ohh, I see. Finally found something you’d like? I knew you would come around.”

I let go of his sleeve and he turned to the man selling the sweets.

“How much are your goods, fair merchant?”

While Jaskier talked to the man, I looked around at other stalls in the area. A jeweler’s stand caught my eye next. I knew anything over there would be too expensive, but I wanted to look anyway.

As I turned back to Jaskier, he had bought both of us a piece of candy from the man, and I took mine from him with a smile.

“Thank you, Jaskier. You didn’t have to pay for mine.”

He unwrapped his candy quickly, and glanced at me with that crooked smile that makes women and men alike weak in the knees.

“I wanted to. Now- where to next?”

My eyes betrayed my mind, settling on the jewelry that I knew would be too expensive to even consider purchasing.

Jaskier followed my gaze across the square to the bits and baubles I was focused on, and a forlorn look fell onto his face.

“Darling, I don’t mean to put a damper on things, but I can smell how expensive that place is all the way over here.”

I sighed and looked up at him.

“I know, but I just want to look. Can we, please?”

His face softened, and he gave me a small nod to signal it was okay. I didn’t even try to hide my happiness when I grabbed his hand and pulled him around the square for the second time today. Not once did he complain, which I felt very undeserving of.

I realized how large his hand was in mine, and I truly couldn’t remember if I had ever touched him in this way before. Of course, I had imagined it countless times. It felt nice.

I think that both of us knew we were crazy about the other. We were both just too scared to say anything. Or maybe we were just comfortable with the way things were, without a label.

Either way, I couldn’t suppress the tingling feeling in my fingers as I let go of his hand when we made it to our destination. And gods, it didn’t live up to any expectation I had formed in the past few minutes of wondering.

There were rows upon rows of every kind of jewelry you could imagine. Necklaces, rings, bracelets, barrettes, brooches... there were simply too many to name. Numerous golds and silvers alike glistened in the afternoon sunlight, enough to take your breath away if you weren’t careful.

“Wow,” Jaskier breathed next to me.

“I think this shop is worth more than both of our lives put together. Especially yours,” I murmured so only he could hear.

“I- what does that even mean?”

Before I could comment something smart back, the lady caught us in her sight and came over with a smile plastered across her face, ready to try and sell us something.

“How can I help you two today?”

Jaskier and I glanced at each other, not sure of what to tell her.

“Uh, we’re just looking for now. Thank you though,” I said in a bit of a hurry.

She seemed content with that, nodding slightly and then walking away to help someone else who would probably actually buy something.

Once more I couldn’t help but stare at all the rows in front of me. I think I could look at them forever, imagining myself wearing all the pieces to some fancy ball or banquet.

The only thing to drag me out of my thoughts was a small, timid tug on my sleeve. I turned and saw Jaskier looking at me. But he wasn’t really looking directly at me. His mind seemed to be elsewhere.

“We should go,” he said in a low tone.

“What? What’s wrong? Five more minutes. Let me dream a bit longer.”

He looked over me and around me before looking behind himself.

“No, I think we should really go, okay?”

“You’re acting weird, Jaskier. What’s got your doublet in a knot?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the merchant woman walk towards us once more. Everything seemed fine until Jaskier turned to see what I was looking at, and then the woman seemed a lot less friendly.

“Hey!” she yelled loudly, drawing attention to us.

My eyes widened and I looked at Jaskier, who was now stock still next to me. It was then I noticed that a gold chain was dangling out of his pocket that wasn’t there before.

“Shit,” he hissed.

Without another word he grabbed my hand, and we took off running. We weren’t the only ones however. Behind us, I heard thundering footsteps and the sound of metal on metal. The guards were after us.

“Jaskier, did you really swipe something off that woman’s stall?”

He turned over his shoulder slightly to look at me as we ran, but didn’t say anything. Maybe I was crazy, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

He had a death grip on my hand, and it didn’t let up as we ran through the streets taking twists and turns trying to lose the guards behind us. It was exhilarating, to be honest. So much so, that a laugh bubbled inside me and burst out before I could stop it.

“You’re crazy!” I yelled to Jaskier over all the noise and the rush of the wind.

He chuckled breathlessly, exhausted from the sudden sprint we had started.

“Just keep running! And don’t let go of my hand- I don’t want to get separated.”

I smiled to myself and looked down at the ground where my feet met the dirt in a rhythmic sort of way. And once again, I laughed. Only this time, Jaskier laughed with me, out of breath and unashamed. Running this way with him, hand in hand, was freeing. I felt so alive. I didn’t care where he was leading me- wherever it was, I would follow.

Jaskier pulled me around one last turn, and then into an alley. The guards were significantly farther behind us now. Even so, we cowered into a dark corner of the alley, and tried to catch our breath. However, when we looked at each other, a fit of giggles overtook us both.

“That was..”

“That was-”

We both spoke at the same time and stopped at the same time, causing us to giggle once more. My chest and stomach were aching from the lack of air, but it was a small price to pay for how happy and carefree I felt right now.

“So, what in the gods names did you take, Jaskier? And why?”

His smile fell a bit before he dug into his pocket where I had seen the gold chain earlier. But before he could get it all the way out, a familiar sound of thundering footsteps began to get closer.

“Shit,” Jaskier hissed, shoving the chain back down into his pocket like before.

He suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me farther into the corner, but there wasn’t much room left.

“Jaskier, we’re gonna get caught!” I whispered.

His eyes scanned the area frantically and then came back to settle on me. By the sounds of it, the guards would be on us any minute now, and we would be caught.

In a split second, his mouth fell open a bit and he looked as though he had an idea. Without saying anything, he reached up and pulled the hood of my cloak up on my head, before shedding his doublet, leaving him only in his white undershirt. He threw his doublet into a passing carriage, and grabbed me roughly by the shoulders before turning me around and placing me roughly against the cold, stone wall.

“Jaskier, what the f-”

Right as the guards rounded the corner, Jaskier shoved his face onto mine and kissed me feverishly, pushing his body against mine until my back hurt against the hard wall behind me. Needless to say, it threw me off a bit, especially when he pulled my hood to the side so that it shielded both of our faces from the guards who were now running directly past us, paying us absolutely no mind.

Only when the sound of their feet faded into the distance did he pull away, eyes wild and hair sticking up in every direction imaginable. The only sounds that could be heard now were our heavy breaths, though we were still so close together it could have easily been mistaken as just one.

“Um, Jaskier...”

“I’m sorry,” he croaked in a hushed whisper.

“Uh, well, actually. I think the guards are coming back. Don’t you hear them?”

For a second, a look of utter confusion overtook his face. But almost as soon as it had come, a devilish grin replaced it.

“Actually yeah, they’re quite loud, aren’t they? Just to be safe...”

This time, both of us met each others lips at the same time, and it was much more pleasant than the first one. Our mouths moved in sync, in perfect harmony, as they had meant to all this time. His hands came up to hold the sides of my face tenderly, causing my hood to slip away and a rush of cold air to make me shiver. However, as soon as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders to bring him closer, the coldness was replaced by warmth, and I smiled into the kiss. Not once did he break from his aggressive, almost hungry kisses, and neither did I. We had both wanted this for so long, and neither of us wanted it to end.

Unfortunately, I had to pull away for air, so I begrudgingly stopped kissing him. But that didn’t stop him. He continued kissing me, on my cheeks, down my neck, and finally on my forehead, one last, gentle time.

“Why hadn’t we done this before now?” I gasped.

“Well,” he said in between kisses down my neck and face, “Geralt is usually around and...”

He stopped to place a gentle, final kiss on my lips, much different from the desperate ones before.

“Three’s a crowd after all.”

I smiled dumbly at him, still panting, and he mirrored my euphoria.

“Oh, right,” he muttered, pulling out the chain from his pocket.

“I got this for you.”

He reached out to me, danging a gold chain off his fingers. It was decorated with my favorite stones and colors, and it almost brought a tear to my eye. He remembered my favorite things?

“Jaskier, you stole that for me?”

He opened and closed his mouth several times before scratching the back of his neck.

“Uh, yes? I just- I saw how badly you wanted something from there and I couldn’t help but imagine how beautiful this would look on you. Before I knew it, I had it in my hands and was making to put it away.”

Rolling my eyes, I gave him a laugh and took it gently from him.

“Thank you so much. Truly... it’s wonderful.”

Jaskier smiled shyly at me, not at all matching the fierceness I had seen on him moments ago.

“Shame about your doublet though. I seem to remember you saying it was quite expensive.”

He chuckled and kicked at the dirt, flipping his hair out of his eyes.

“Yeah, well, there will be others. Now, let’s go. We probably shouldn’t hang around here.”

I smiled before placing the necklace around my neck, making sure it was covered by my clothing.

“Lead the way, lute boy.”

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itspufflehuff · 4 years

Text

Pranksters - Bucky Imagine

Summary: When plans get cancelled you and Bucky are left alone in the Avengers tower on Valentines Day. In an attempt to make the most of your night you and Bucky place some pranks on the other Avengers.

MATERLIST // TAGLIST

Happy Valentines Day everyone! I hope you all have an amazing and safe day with your friends, family, and/or partners! This is one of three imagines I will be posting today.

As requested by @sebstanfan123 thank you for the idea I had fun writing this! Warning there will be talks of drinking and getting drunk. Thank you for reading my story, enjoy!

Word Count: 2,392

~~~~

Bucky thought he and Steve could spend this lonely Valentine's day together drinking some of Thors Asgardian liquor and reminiscing over the good old days.

You were hoping to spend the day with Natasha making fun of people at the bar.

But of course, nothing went as planned. Steve just had to decide to move on and go out with Sharon and Natasha agreed to babysit for Clint while he and his wife spent a nice night together.

It was just you and Bucky left alone in the Avengers tower with nothing to do but be miserable.

When you walked into the common room you were surprised to see Bucky sitting on the couch with the remote in his hand aimlessly surfing the channels. You stopped at the entrance of the room, "What are you doing here?"

He stopped pressing buttons on the remote turning his head over to you with an amused look, "Well hello to you too."

Realizing how rude you sounded you quickly explained, "I'm sorry I didn't mean it like that I was just expecting you to be with Steve somewhere else." You made your way over to the couch and plopped down next to him.

"Yeah, until he bailed on me for Sharon. I never did that to him when I was the hot one." He said half-joking but half-serious.

"Nat bailed on me too. Although her reason is not as scandalous as yours."

"Now look at us. Dying of boredom when we could have been having fun."

"You know... we could still have fun." You suggested mischievously.

"What did you have in mind?" He was a bit scared of what your response would be. He always liked you and thought you were very beautiful but he was still getting used to being in this new world free of Hydra. On top of that, he hadn't been with a woman since 1942.

"I don't know, anything! I don't want to waste the rest of our night moping around feeling sorry for ourselves."

You sat in silence for a second until an idea popped into your head and you basically jumped, "We could pull pranks! We'll leave harmless surprises for everyone in the morning."

He thought for a second then nodded, "I like it. So what will we do?"

"I don't know I came up with the idea I thought you could pitch some pranks."

He chuckled shaking his head, "Um ok. How about taking the pillows out and filling the cases with tissue paper instead?"

You laughed, "That's a good one. Oh! We can put bubble wrap under the toilet seats so when they sit it starts popping."

"But guys pee standing?" He laughed.

"Yeah, but they eventually have to sit down? We can tape a line of bubble wrap to the bottom so they won't really see it and when they're ready to put the seat down it stays in place."

"Ok let's do it." He stood up excitedly then turning the tv off.

The both of you made your way over to the supply closet where you assumed the items you needed would be, but to your disappointment, there were only cleaning supplies. "Maybe they will be in the workshop?" Bucky suggested. Once again, nothing.

You checked three more places before giving up, "You mean to tell me we live in probably the most expensive building in New York with one of the richest men alive but we don't have bubble wrap or tissue paper?" Bucky let out exasperated.

"There is a convenience store down the street well just check there." You laughed at his annoyance. The both of you quickly got ready, excited to get started on your pranks. Bucky pulled on his signature boots, sweater, and baseball cap as you grabbed your coat and wallet then slipping on your shoes.

At the store, you and Bucky grabbed a basket and walked the isles like people on a mission. On your way to the aisle with all the wrapping supplies, you passed the baking section and an idea came to mind, "We should make raisin cookies and make them look like chocolate chip cookies!"

"What's wrong with raisins?" He asked faking offense.

"Nothing old man, it's just people nowadays prefer chocolate." You joked. He rolled his eyes laughing but put the cookie mix in your basket. That's when the cellophane caught his eye and he had an idea of his own, "What if we right this around the tops of their body wash, shampoo, and toothpaste then put the lids back on. That way when they try using it nothing comes out." You laughed nodding your head, "That's a good one Buck."

You two then grabbed what you really went to the store for and at the checkout Bucky refused to let you pay. Using his metal arm he held you back and with the other, he gave the cashier some cash, "Keep the change and receipt. Thank you." He took the bag and began walking out without you. Catching up to him you said, "That's not fair to use your strong arm against me!" You knew he hated his metal arm whenever he was doing non Avenger related tasks out in public so you made sure not to say 'metal arm' and instead settled for 'strong arm'.

"Don't hate the player, hate the game." He winked at you.

You laughed, "What?"

"I have no idea but I'm excited to get back and get started on this." He smiled lifting the bag up.

When you entered the common room once again you both ran over to the island and dropped all the contents of the bag out on it giggling like children, "Ok you get started on the bubble wrap and I'll put the cellophane on all their bottles. When you're done we'll meet back here." You both ran around the building into everybody's bathroom, except for each other's of course.

Seemingly at the same time, you meet up at the island with red cheeks unable to stop the giggles. You picked up the packs of tissue paper, "Should we tag team their pillows?"

"Let's do it." He smiled playfully. You both ran into Tony's room getting started on taking the pillows out of their cases. Time seemed to fly as you two ran into everyone's room switching out their comfy pillows for tissue paper. When you finished you both laid horizontally on Steve's bed for a break.

"I feel like we're missing something," Bucky said looking up at the ceiling.

"Cookies."

"Right," he chuckled lightly, "My disgusting raisin cookies."

"I never said disgusting, " you defended, "I only said people prefer chocolate."

You both made your way over to the kitchen. Bucky helped you bring out all of the materials needed to bake the cookies as you grabbed the ingredients. "You know what we need?" You said suddenly?"

Bucky's eyebrows furrowed but he kept his smile, "What's that?"

"Drinks. And music."

"You are most definitely right." He laughed looking away, "I'll grab the drinks while you get started?" He suggested.

"What just because I'm a woman I have to stay in the kitchen?" You turned serious. Bucky's face dropped as he began stumbling over his words. You started laughing, "I'm messing with you I don't care."

"That was mean." He said still scared but you could see the smile trying to fight its way onto his face.

"Don't hate the player, hate the game." You winked at him.

Bucky went into the room Tony keeps all their alcohol and grabbed a bottle of wine, some brandy, and one of Thor's Asgardian liquor. When he went back to where you were he heard music playing, "Is this Tony's playlist?" He asked

You spun around to face him, "Yeah, I figured we'd start with music you're more familiar with, and since Tony is always blasting his stuff during training I thought this was the safe option."

As you mixed the ingredients together Bucky grabbed some glasses, "Brandy or wine?"

"White or red?" You asked keeping your back to him.

"Uhh- White."

"I'll have some wine."

He served both of you some wine but adding a drop of Thor's liquor to his glass.

For the next two hours, you both danced and sang along to the music as you made the cookies. You would've finished baking them quicker but after you had the cookies in the oven for thirty minutes you realized no one turned it on. Laughing at each other you took the cookies out to heat the oven.

The both of you were had gotten tipsy quicker than either of you expected. Maybe it had something to do with you switching out sips of wine for the whole bottle of brandy and Bucky swapping his glass for the bottle of Asgardian liquor. As the cookies baked in the oven you gasped and looked over to Bucky, "Wouldn't it be so funny if we switched out the sugar for salt!"

"That would be perfect! They'll all be so grossed out when they have their morning coffee." He laughed. You were lucky that both the salt and sugar were in jars that were labeled on the lid so all you needed to do was swap lids. You both laughed thinking you were so sneaky.

When the cookies finished you neatly placed them on a plate then wrapped them in cellophane to keep them fresh. Bucky made his way over to the couch holding onto Thor's liquor like it was the love of his life. You took your phone out connecting it to the speaker and started playing one of your old playlists from Spotify. The truth was you didn't even know which playlist you pressed on, you just needed a change in music.

Taylor Swift's 'You Belong to Me' started playing over the speakers, "I love this song!" You shouted to Bucky. You sang along word for word. It might not have been good singing but you didn't mess up. Next was Justin Bieber's 'Baby' then, Best Song Ever by One Direction not missing a single lyric.

Bucky looked at you from the couch amused, "I don't know any of these songs but you're doing great!"

As the songs went on Bucky got up to dance along with you. He took your hand twirling you around as you sang along. It was the most fun either of you had in a while.

Eventually, you both got tired and fell back onto the couch. Bucky had his arm around you so you laid your head on his shoulder shutting your eyes. "This was amazing, why don't we hang out more?" He asked looking down at you.

"I have no idea but we should do this more often."

"Yeah, we should." He smiled softly at you even though your eyes were closed so you couldn't see. Slowly his eyes shut as you both drifted off to sleep on the couch.

Neither of you woke up when everyone came home late at night. Steve was the first to arrive. When he saw you and Bucky sleeping on the couch together a chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head smiling. He grabbed one of the blankets that happened to be nearby and placed it over the both of you. However, when he went into his room and laid on his bed to sleep he almost got back up and yanked the blanket off both of you. As soon as his head hit the pillow it sank and he heard crinkling. He tried another pillow and the same thing happened.

Great, first my toothpaste isn't working now this.

He searched for his pillows but couldn't find them anywhere so instead he used a shirt and fell asleep like that.

In the morning Bucky, for the first time in forever, was hungover and so were you. Everyone was having their breakfast and coffee when you both woke up.

"Morning. Had a busy night?" Tony asked.

The light was too bright for you both. As if he read your mind Bucky threw the blanket over your heads.

"Come on. Some coffee will help with that pesky hangover." Tony said.

You and Bucky groaned but dragged yourselves to the table where two fresh cups of coffee were waiting for you two. You were about to take a sip when Tony stopped you, "Sugar?"

"Huh?" You asked, "Oh sugar. Yes please, Bucky want some?" He just nodded his head too tired to speak.

You got up to grab the jar of sugar from the cabinet then walked it over to the table. You poured a scoop into your coffee then Bucky poured some in his as well.

The second you both took a sip you spit it right back out, "What the hell is this?" You asked.

"Oh, you don't remember?" Tony asked with fake shock, "I guess you two pranksters thought it would be hilarious to switch the labels on the sugar and salt. Of course, I'm a genius and always make sure everything is labeled right so I figured it out right away. You're the only people who had to suffer with salt in their coffee."

You and Bucky looked at each other forgetting all about the sugar and salt. It was a last-minute drunken decision you both made. You both looked down ashamed then Bucky perked his head up, "How'd you all sleep?" He smirked. Beside him, you giggled.

~~~~

The both of you went on with your days as usual. You each went to your rooms to take a refreshing shower before heading to the training room. When you walked in Bucky was working on the punching bag. As soon as he saw you he stopped. "Hey Y/N."

You smiled at him, "Bucky, lovely seeing you again. "

"I could say the same thing." He whispered to himself. Then he shyly made his way over to you, "So, Y/N, last night was fun and I was wondering, well hoping, if you would like to go out tonight?" He rubbed the back of his neck mentally kicking himself. He was never this shy or nervous with women before. He was always confident and could get any woman he wanted. Now he was unsure and nervous.

You could tell how nervous he was so you took his arm, "I'd love to."

#winter soilder #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #james buchanan barnes #marvel #mcu #sebastian stan imagine #mcu imagine #avengers #imagine #fanfic

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onelastbreath-writes · 4 years

Text

I Spy (2)

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales/Fem!Reader (AFAB, no y/n)

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Swearing

Summary (lite): You literally fall for a guy you meet in a bar, and everything is going great until you learn both of you have been lying about who you are and what you do. Oof. (SpecOps&Spies AU with Young!Frankie)

A/N: Wow part one got a lot of love, thank you so much! And now I also have a taglist going for this fic, so let me know if you want to be tagged the next time I post. This chapter is basically just fluff with a bit of background plot,,, i’ve created both a slow burn, and a 100 metre sprint of a relationship for y’all, so be prepared for that. Depending on what I manage to get into the next chapter, aka if i can finish the story or if i wimp out, there will either be 3 or 4 chapters total, and if i like the universe enough I might have some bonus content in the future. Nothing is set in stone so don’t start counting your chickens yet, but like... maybe. Anyways, I hope you enjoy part 2 of Let Me Have Nice Things I Spy <3

PS it is 3:45am when I’m posting this, please forgive me if its actually just weird thnxxxx

[AO3A][Masterlist]

[Previous Part]

---

“Water with a wedge of lemon, please,” you ordered as you and Frankie claimed a bar stool each at the counter.

“And a coke for me, thank you.”

The drink offer was always a toss up for you; a good way to measure the type of guy interested in your company. Even if you hadn’t decided that you were done with the alcohol tonight, you would still have ordered a water on your date’s dime. It was a simple test of character that more than a few guys had failed in the past. Were they looking to get you drunk, or were they willing to respect your choices? Frankie, so far, had done nothing but respect you.

Your drinks arrive quickly, and the cool glass feels refreshing in your hands. You still feel warm from your brief contact with the handsome man beside you, but after peaking at him from the side of your eyes, you can see that his ears and cheeks also have some red to them as well.

Frankie accepts his glass and angles himself towards you, bumping his knee lightly to yours and offering you another sweet smile. “Would it be presumptuous of me to offer a cheers? To meeting new people? Or I’ve got some great, really catchy and not at all cheesy pick-up lines, if that’s more your style?”

You snorted a laugh at his teasing but held out your drink for him to clink his against, “To meeting new people, then. And please, I have extremely high standards so only your best lines will appease me.”

“Ah, a connoisseur! Well then, please prepare to be amazed,” Frankie swivelled around to fully face you, ran a hand through his hair, fluffing his curls and pushing them away from his face, and cleared his throat for dramatic effect. “You blinded me with your beauty, so I’m going to need your name and number for insurance purposes.”

Your plan was to hold out, not to crack against whatever corny, horribly cliché thing he was going to say to you. You’d been given them all, and had never had much trouble before, even with guys as attractive and cute as Frankie. You had a great poker face, and could keep yourself together like a pro. There was nothing he could say to you that would break your façade. And then he opened his mouth, and you were gone.

“Oh my god! That’s so bad!” You were shaking, gasping while trying to contain and smother your laughter. You hadn’t thought to put your drink down before he started, and you could feel the liquid sloshing around the glass in your hand. Frankie, thankfully, noticed your problem, and gently wrapped his fingers around your wrist to steady your grasp. He helped you set the drink down safely, before pulling your still jittering limb away from further potential accidents. And then, he just didn’t release you.

He had slipped his hand into yours and was running his thumb over your knuckles.

As if your cheeks weren’t warm enough already.

What is it with this guy? You just couldn’t catch a break.

“Okay?” Can I keep holding your hand?

“Yes,” Please don’t let me go.

---

“And so, we’re just, like, full-tilt sprinting to catch this last train. And of course, its raining cats and dogs, so the sidewalk is slippery as hell, and Santi’s down a shoe so he’s splashing around in his sock, and then we hit the stairs up to the platform, and the train is pulling out…” You couldn’t remember the last time you smiled so much but listening to Frankie’s stories about his friends and their misadventures was making your cheeks ache.

You had been trading stories for ages, back and forth and jumping all over your lives to tell each other your greatest hits. Something between you two had just clicked, and it felt like you’d known him forever.

Early in the conversation you’d discovered he was his buddies’ designated driver, and would be on non-alcoholic beverages all night, but offered you anything you would like if you wanted more than water. You’d of course thanked him, but refused, stating your own reasons for sobriety. And that’s the point you got into talking about your careers.

“The guys wanted to get wasted during shore leave, and I’m not big on drinking so I offered to be their ride this time.” He was rather adorably touchy-feely with you, currently playing with your fingers and drawing on your palm absentmindedly.

“Shore leave? So, you’re military then?” That would explain the callouses and healed scars on his hands that you’d also been acquainting yourself with.

“Army, yeah,” Frankie had pointed out his group of hooligans across the room, playing what he’d told you was ‘Extreme Darts’. “Me and Santi were best friends in high school and enlisted together, and then we met Will and Benny in basic training. We worked together well enough to get us assigned to Tom’s squad and the rest’s history.”

“Then you’re still on active duty, right?” You couldn’t say you knew much about how a military contract worked, beyond what you’d seen in movies and on TV, but you knew soldiers were required to do a certain amount of service before they could retire; baring career-ending events that would get them discharged, of course. “When does shore leave end?”

“Ah, that’s a little complicated to explain, actually. We’re technically active soldiers still, but after our last deployment ended, we signed back on as like, uh, contractors. Sort of like on-base reservists? We help out where we can but don’t really see much in-field work, you know?” He was definitely struggling to describe his job to you, and you could imagine there was a lot of red tape and confidentiality around anything military he was doing, so you just nodded along and let him drop it. “But we still have a couple weeks stateside before we ship back out.”

You hummed at that, thinking over your own known schedule. “I can’t say I’ll have much time off before you need to leave, but I would like to see more of you, if you’re agreeable?” There was something special about this guy, and whether you were just friends or something more eventually, you didn’t want to waste your opportunity to have him in your life. Long distance anything was a lot of work, but you wanted him to know you were willing to try if he was.

“Do you like raisins? How would you feel about a date?”

---

That was how your unconventional romance with Frankie Morales started. You’d talked all night, and when the bartender kicked you and your groups out at closing time, he and his friends helped get your girls into their cabs. And once they were all taken care of, he had offered you his arm and walked you to your car like a proper, posh gentleman.

“Goodnight, paloma, thank you for such a wonderful evening.”

You had given him your business card, personal phone number and a flirty call me xx written on the back, and he in turn lifted your hand to brush a delicate kiss to your knuckles with a teasing wink. You went home that night mildly concerned you’d spontaneously combust from the heat blazing through your body. That man was a menace, and he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

He had called the next evening, and from there you spent as much time as you could together. Coffee dates, dinner and movie nights, even a walk in the park like some fairy-tale couple; he always greeted you with a bad pick-up line to make you smile, and a left you with a kiss on the hand at the end of your outings.

It was three wonderful but short weeks later that he got his ship-out date.

You were back at the dive bar where it all started, your friend (and some of her friends) and his all together again, to celebrate their last night of leave. The bar had unofficially become your ‘spot’, and you’d visited a few more times over the weeks, both as private dates and as group activities to get to know the rest of his squad.

It was bittersweet, saying goodbye to your new friends and your, well, Frankie. You had both agreed not to put labels or promises into your relationship until you were sure, and you were fine with that in the beginning when you were still strangers just interested in spending time together. But now you knew him, now you had feelings to back up your attraction to him, and now, he was leaving for who knows how long and you didn’t know if he felt the same way about you.

He must have noticed something was upsetting you, because he excused himself from his buddies’ conversation and held out a hand to help you up out of your chair.

“Join me for some fresh air, hermosa?” He was as courteous as ever as he led you outside into the chilled night, offering you his jacket and his side to cuddle into when you shivered. He was good at reading you by now and could tell when you wanted to work up to saying something without prompting, so he stayed silent and let you organize your thoughts.

You were struggling with your plan, with what you wanted to say to him, ask of him. He was rubbing your shoulder and you reached up to lace your fingers together, remembering the first time you held hands here at the bar…

Please don’t let me go.

That was your answer then, and it was still your answer now. You wanted him to keep holding your hand, now and for however much longer he could. You just needed to tell him that. Easy peasy. And because he’d made a sentimental dork out of you with his unending lines, you couldn’t think of a better way to confess to him. You looked up and met his eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in them.

“I must be a snowflake, because I’ve fallen for you.”

He untangled your fingers from his, pulling his arm away from where it was draped warmly over your shoulders, and took a step back to face you head on.

Oh gods, you wanted to rewind time and stop yourself from opening your big mouth, I’ve ruined it all.

Frankie snagged both of your wrists in his hands, startling you out of your downwards spiral as he tugged you close to his chest. He was staring down at you, brows furrowed and lips pursed seriously. Your hands were pressed between you, resting against his sternum over his steadily beating heart.

“Feel my shirt. It’s made of boyfriend material.”

And then you were both gone, laughing so hard you had tears in your eyes and grins splitting your faces as you held each other close.

You hadn’t ruined anything after all; you could cry you were so relieved.

Once you’d both managed to settle down, he leaned in and rested his forehead against yours, his own shiny eyes meeting yours earnestly. “I’m a terribly selfish man to ask this of you, but would you wait for me? Will you give us a chance? Exclusively?”

“Yes.”

Your first kiss together was there, on that cold night outside the bar where everything changed. It was soft and sweet, and you couldn’t wait for more.

---

Taglist:

@playbucky

#triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #Pedro Pascal #triple frontier fanfiction

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gothpanda · 4 years

Text

A Little Bit of Attitude Ch. 37: Vancouver

WORD COUNT: 5.1K

A/N: haha three ch in under a week? love that for me

TAGS: @madamsixx @nosebleedblitz

@emariehorror

WARNINGS: none

Read On Ao3

Previous/Next

February 5th, 1988

Tucson, Arizona

Nikki popped his bubblegum, resting his leg across his other to get comfortable in the dark green armchair. He waited patiently in the therapy office, looking out the wall-to-ceiling window to the Arizona desert. The sound of the door opening made Nikki's head turn, the on-edge feeling turning into a relaxed emotion.

"Sorry I'm late, Nikki. I had run into a colleague for a minute," said the Dr. grabbing his notebook from his desk.

"It's okay, Ortiz. Felt nice to think of what to say before we started," politely said Nikki, spitting his gum out onto a tissue.

"Good. It's always best to think before rambling during an appointment. Gets all the bases," said Dr. Ortiz, sitting down in front of Nikki. He clipped his pen and wrote down the date on his notes for Nikki. "So, how have we been feeling personally?"

"My mood has been good. I haven't tanked and felt depressed. It feels great to say that. I really haven't felt depressed since being here," said Nikki, scoffing at the fact of being healthy working out for him.

"Well done then. According to my notes here, you had a group therapy session a couple of days ago with a guest? Is that correct?" asked Dr. Ortiz. Nikki nodded. "And how was it seeing a familiar face for the first time since admitting yourself into rehab?"

"I was happy, then I was scared. Scared and happy at the same time. I don't know how anyone can have those feelings together, but I did," said Nikki, rubbing his hands together, Sammi's face popping in his head.

"Why were you scared?" asked Dr. Ortiz, ready to write down what Nikki was about to say.

"Sammi and I didn't leave on the greatest terms in California. When I saw her, I was scared of what she would say about being around me when I was doing heroin,"

"And how did you feel in the end after she expressed her feelings?"

"Sad… I really didn't realize how horrible Sammi felt about everything from the moment I started. It never crossed my mind the conversation we had when we broke up. I don't want to hurt her like that ever again," said Nikki, continuing to rub his hands together.

"While it may have been a terrible feeling to hear to her side of the abuse, it helps make you a better person living a sober life and get rid of the fear,"

"What if I'm still scared of being sober?" asked Nikki, looking down at his feet

"And what is it that you're scared of exactly?"

Nikki sighed, rubbing his hands on his pants. "What if I'm a terrible boyfriend to her being sober? That's what I'm scared about,"

Dr. Ortiz is taken aback but almost lets out a chuckle. "Why would you believe you'd make a terrible boyfriend? You seemed like a great man to her and only her. Even with your troubles from all of our sessions. So why worry when you'd be healthy?"

"Because I've never been with someone I love without some kind of 'help,'" said Nikki, blushing from saying the L-word. "I've always been under the influence even to a small extent with Sammi because I needed it. Without drugs I'm a timid man who wants to be with the smartest girl he ever met," sighed Nikki. "That's why I'm scared,"

Dr. Ortiz takes a second to think before speaking, ready to talk man to man. "Nikki, I'm not going to be speaking in a way of a therapist but how a normal married man would. If Sammi dealt and stuck around long enough when you had your shit, then what makes you think she's not going to love Sober Nikki?" asked Dr. Ortiz, narrowing his eyes at Nikki.

"But she blamed herself for me dying…"

"And that is when you act like a man and treat her like the queen she is to you. Understood?" Nikki only nodded. "Very good. It's going to be a learning curve but hiding isn't going to work out,"

June 3rd, 1988

San Francisco, California

Boxes upon boxes were scattered among the small place that was now Sammi's old apartment, ready to be filled with every single little thing she can take home. Sammi kneeled in front of one labeled 'photos' as Emma and Sabrina were graciously beside her, putting other things in different boxes. Sabrina organized all of Sammi's books while Emma took the time for her snack break.

"Thanks for the help you two, even if Emma's been eating the whole time," said Sammi, smiling over at Emma in the middle.

"Your kitchen is empty for your information thanks to me so you're welcome," said Emma with a mouth full of banana, Sabrina shaking her head playfully.

"Why thank you, Emma. Is it still hard to believe I'm finally done with school? No more having to deal with grades,"

"Tell me about it. I'm starting to miss it already and I'm only taking a year off," said Sabrina, reading the back of one book.

"Yeah yeah we get it. You two are done with college while my ass is still going to classes," said Emma, pouting.

"Awe you'll be fine," said Sabrina, pinching Emma's cheeks. "Just one more year and then you'll be free to your heart's content," The three girls chuckled along, Sammi continuing to pack her belongings on the living room floor.

"Hey Sam, I have a question," said Emma.

"Shoot,"

"Do you have any regrets moving over by yourself? I'm starting to think about what I wanna do when I graduate,"

"You're gonna leave me and move away?" asked Sabrina, raising an eyebrow.

"You're gonna leave us?" corrected Sammi.

Emma giggled at the two. "No, I'm not moving out just yet. I just want to know what it's like here since it's the 'gay mecca'. I have to be with the lesbians at some point," joked Emma.

Sammi stared into the distance for a moment, pursing her lips as she thought about the question, "Yeah I actually do. I wish I never moved here,"

"What? Why?" asked Emma, scrunching her brows together.

"Think about it. I didn't make any friends here. I only met rude and miserable people when I had the chance to make friends. All I have are bad memories. Me leaving didn't do any good back home with Nikki, leading to another fight with Vince. I should've just stayed in L.A,"

"Damn I never thought about it that way," said Sabrina.

"Me neither," added Emma.

"If I stayed then maybe I wouldn't have any awkward tension between Vince and now Nikki. Maybe we'd all be living under one roof. It's just something I think about," said Sammi, looking down at the scattered photos.

"Well hey, who needs friends when you have us," said Emma, swinging an arm around Sabrina to pull her into their side. Sammi only smiled at the two with a sweet chuckle before going back to finishing the last of the photos, taping the box shut.

"You do have multiple points. Speaking of which, how are the guys since getting out of rehab?" asked Sabrina.

"They are currently in Canada working on a new album, so that's always good. Tommy, Mick, and Vince left in April. I would say they're doing great since being out. Tommy was a big help going apartment hunting with me," said Sammi.

"What about Nik?" asked Emma.

Sammi sighed. "He went straight to Canada after being released. I haven't heard from him since that therapy session," said Sammi, lowering her eyes from Emma and Sabrina. They could see the change in Sammi's face. Even if she didn't say it loud, the girls knew Sammi missed Nikki.

"You should just go visit them," suggested Emma. "I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be the biggest shock in the world to the guys,"

"Yeah but this isn't a tour date. They're working this time, and I don't want to be a nuisance,"

"You seriously don't think Heather or whoever is dating Vince doesn't barge in when they record back home?" asked Sabrina.

Sammi did shrug a shoulder in acknowledgment until something clicked in her head. "Wait I just remembered Mick said I could visit,"

"Then go!" shouted Emma and Sabrina in unison.

"Fine! Fine! I'll make some calls after we're home and I'm somewhat settled," said Sammi, standing up on her feet and walking to see what needed to be packed in parts of her bedroom.

June 14th, 1988

Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada

For being summer in Canada, the country proved to be the coldest place Sammi has ever visited, needing to wear her warmest leather jacket for the trip. She was quick to learn Vancouver was a calm city with still enough action going around. Sammi made a mental note to come back whenever L. A got too hot for her.

With the help of Doc setting Sammi up in Canada, it didn't take any time to find the recording studio Motley was working at. Sammi walked straight into the two-story building, hands in her pocket as she looked at the wooden interior. She stood right in the middle of the lobby where no one occupied the front desk, surprised by the quiet. The sound of steps walking down the stairs caused Sammi to turn on her heels, facing a young man with papers in his hand.

"Uh hey!" said Sammi, smiling politely at the young man.

"Hi… um who are you?" asked the skinny young man, walking down the last steps with hesitation.

"I'm Sammi, sorry to just pop in like this," said Sammi, extending out a hand.

"Like the name. I'm Kevin," said Kevin, shaking Sammi's hand. "What can I help you with?"

"Well I was wondering if Motley Crue was here right now. I'm Tommy's little sister," said Sammi, fixing the strap of her purse.

"Oh yeah they're upstairs with their producer right now. Did they know you were coming?" asked Kevin.

"No, I wanted to surprise them. It's been kind of boring back in California," smiled Sammi to hopefully let Kevin lead her to the boys.

"Well…" said Kevin, looking up the stairs and back at Sammi. "I know their producer Bob might not like you being here but I do know you're pretty special to the guys,"

"Yeah, the guys and I are pretty tight,"

"Alright then come with me," said Kevin, leading Sammi up the stairs. Kevin led Sammi through a spacious long hallway, knocking on the second door to their right. He peeked his head inside once, opening the door slightly. "Um, sir, the boys have a visitor,"

"I said no visitors. These four don't need any female distractions," said Bob in a deep and intimidating voice. Sammi almost regretted surprising the boys if they had this man working with them.

"It's Tommy's sister Sammi, sir,"

"Sammi!" yelled Tommy, Sammi hearing his steps rush out the door. Tommy swung the door open and, in one quick movement, engulfed Sammi in a tight hug, lifting her up in the air. "I've missed you!"

"It's only been 2 months!" giggled Sammi.

"I don't care, I miss you!" said Tommy, placing Sammi down on her feet. Before Sammi could say anything, she soon noticed Nikki right behind Tommy, almost in hiding. Nikki sheepishly had his hand in the back of his jean pockets and a slight smile on his lips.

"Hey, Sammi," uttered Nikki, stepping closer to Sammi. Sammi couldn't keep her eyes off Nikki, first noting every single new thing about the man. He had more tattoos all down his arm of what appeared to be Japanese artwork. It complimented his now bigger biceps and toned body, seeing Nikki's pecs through his shirt. Tommy could see the shock and plan to gawk on Sammi's face, finding it downright humorous.

When Nikki stood right in front of Sammi, Sammi blinked rapidly and cracked a smirk. "Wow. You look…" lingered Sammi.

"Different?" blushed Nikki.

"I was going to say great. You look great with your new look," smiled Sammi, finally one take forward and hugging Nikki like normal. Nikki didn't question anything, wrapping his strong arms tightly around Sammi. She could feel the difference in strength right away.

"Come on, let's not be greedy," said Tommy, grasping Sammi's shoulder and leading her into the recording room.

Without Sammi facing the terror twins, Tommy flashed a smirk to Nikki as if the adults were back to being teenagers in high school. Mick was the first to welcome Sammi in, heading straight for a hug and a pat on her head.

"Ain't this a surprise, Little girl," said Mick.

"You're the one who told me to come," smiled Sammi, causing Mick to shrug his shoulder.

Mick was almost pleased with himself. "Didn't think you'd take the bait," chuckled Mick. Mick looking healthy was Sammi's first thought, causing the smile to stick on her lips.

"Hey Sammi," said Vince, going straight for a hug that was gladly returned. "Finally we can have some fun around here,"

Right as Sammi was close to responding when the sight of Bob caused her to shut her mouth. Bob was a big tall man whose voice matched everything about him physically. He towered over Sammi, glaring down at her with an intense stare. Sammi took a few steps back, almost hiding right behind Nikki.

"Am I really that scary?" asked Bob, breaking into a smile.

"Do you want an honest answer?" asked Sammi, staying beside Nikki. Nikki crossed his arms, puffing his chest to seem as if he was protecting Sammi. Bob nodded. "You're more than a foot taller than me and built like a football player. You are scary to me!" said Sammi. Everyone burst into laughter, any tension dissipating.

"Well I am not a mean person. It's a pleasure to meet you, Sammi. You just came at the right second, the boys are on a break," said Bob.

"I really hope I'm not imposing. I can just go back to my hotel and wait,"

"No!" said Motley in unison.

"Sammi trust us, we need you for a bit," said Nikki, squeezing Sammi's shoulder gently.

"You can stay for the rest of the session if you like, Sammi. I'm serious. If anyone needs me, I'll be in the offices. We'll start recording vocals in 20," said Bob, walking out, having Kevin follow him right behind. Sammi let out a sigh of relief, happy to not bother anyone who was working with Motley.

"See, Sam, you're welcome wherever you go," said Tommy pulling out a chair for Sammi that she accepted.

"I guess I am. But enough about me, how's the album going?" excitedly asking Sammi, smiling with bright eyes at the guys.

As the guys all settled back into their seats, Mick whipped out a piece of paper of every song for their new album, all in Nikki's handwriting. Sammi took the form for closer examination, reading off every circled name of a song.

"Okay so we have 'Dr. Feelgood'. That one sounds cool. 'Slice of Your Pie', I wonder what that one's about," said Sammi, glaring at all the guys with a smirk.

"Get your mind out of the gut, Samantha," teased Vince.

"Rattlesnake Shake. That one also sounds cool. Kickstart My Heart. That has to be about Nikki. Without you?" stopped Sammi, scrunching her brows together. She looked up at Motley, trying to read all their faces. Vince and Tommy shifted their eyes to each other, looking at Nikki and Mick. Nikki bounced his leg a bit more than usual. "What's 'Without You' about?" asked Sammi. Nikki and Tommy glanced at each other, waiting for one of the two to speak.

"It's a song about Heather and I. You know how record labels are about having love songs on albums," said Tommy, putting on a somewhat convincing smile.

"Oh so you wrote a song!" exclaimed Sammi. "That's awesome. Did you help him, Nikki?" Nikki shook his head. "Well can I hear it? Especially if you wrote it Tommy,"

"It's not done yet, Sam. We still need the instruments on some parts," said Vince, Nikki thanking him in his mind. "Anyway! How many days are you staying in Vancouver?" asked Vince.

"I'm only staying for 2 days. I just wanted to make sure you four were still good and running," said Sammi.

"Awe come on Sammi, you don't have to worry about us. We're adults who have now figured out life. Kind of," said Vince with a proud smug smile.

"Vince is right and we can prove it to you," said Nikki.

"Oh really? How so?" asked Sammi, raising a brow with a smirk to Nikki.

"How about you come out to our rental tonight. We can all make dinner together and catch up especially since I haven't seen you in months," said Nikki, matching Sammi's smirk.

"And whose fault is that, Nikki?" asked Tommy, chuckling at the glare he received. Sammi snickered but hid her smile behind her hands as Nikki faced her again.

"That sounds like a great idea, Nik. I would love that," smiled Sammi. It was like they were in their own little world again, where Nikki only knew Sammi. Vince didn't feel the massive sting of jealousy as before, only by a quarter of the feeling. Nevertheless, he had to admit it was nice to see Sammi happy as well as Nikki.

"I can pick you up from your hotel, Sam. Our place is basically in the middle of nowhere. It's by a small lake!" said Tommy.

"Well isn't that cute. I hope you four are ready for my cooking," teased Sammi, standing up from her seat as she noticed Bob about to walk into the room again. It was time to somewhat finish what the boys started, more vocals on Vince's behalf. Sammi just sat on the loveseat right behind Nikki with a happy smile on her face.

"Okay!" Bob clapped. "Let's get back to work!"

Sammi shouldn't have been surprised when she first laid eyes on Motley's rental house that appeared to be a country log cabin. It subtly screamed Nikki and his Idaho roots. A beautiful two-story log cabin in the middle of the green forest with a lake within walking distance. It was a fantastic little escape for the guys after a long day at the studio, calling this home for who knows how long. In the open space kitchen, Sammi and Tommy served the five plates ready for Sammi's food. Nikki set up the dining table with forks and knives, placing the guys' drink of choice. Without asking her, Nikki popped open a bottle of Sammi's favorite red wine and poured a glass for her. It didn't take much energy for Nikki to completely ignore the alcoholic drink. Vince and Tommy set the plates of food on top of each placemat while Mick put the garlic bread basket right in the middle. Everything smelled amazing.

"Okay! Are we all ready to eat?" asked Sammi, walking into the dining room, seeing Motley sat down like well-behaved children with Tommy leaving a spot right next to him. "I'll take that as a yes," Sammi said, sitting beside her brother.

It was a comfortable silence that filled the room. Only the sound being made was of forks hitting the plates that felt like music to Sammi's ears. Silent people eating was a compliment for Sammi.

"I forgot how great your cooking is, Sammi," said Vince, finally taking a breather as he sipped on his glass of water.

"It's just spaghetti with meatballs," snickered Sammi, looking over Tommy to see Vince.

"Yes but we are used to frozen meatballs and pregos spaghetti sauce," said Mick, mouth almost full of food.

Sammi shook her head, taking another bite of a meatball. She glanced over at Nikki right in front of her, smiling at how he ate in silence. "Nikki seems to love my food. His head has been down his plate the entire time." teased Sammi. Nikki only flipped Sammi off in a matter she knew was playful. Sammi notices her glass of wine, looking around the guys. She smelled it and took a sip, happy to know it's her favorite. "Did you pour me some wine, Tommy?" Tommy shook his head.

"I did," said Nikki. "I thought you would enjoy a nice glass of wine,"

"But-"

"Sam, you don't have to quit drinking just because we did," said Mick, patting Nikki on the back. Sammi didn't say anything else, taking another sip of her wine.

"So, Samantha, a little birdie told me you got your pharmacy license. How does it feel being a full time grown up?" asked Nikki, relaxing in his chair.

"I'm so happy I passed, I did not want to react that stupid exam. Now it's just interviews back in L.A," said Sammi.

"Finally settled in at your new place?" asked Tommy, finishing the last of his food.

"Yeah I just need to figure out what to put in the second room. I only have my San Francisco sofa,"

"I'm surprised you kept anything from that tiny place," said Vince. "This might sound so stupid but does a pharmist apply? All I can think of is Walgreens,"

"I am mainly aiming at the hospitals now that most have their own private pharmacy," answered Sammi, finishing the last drop of wine. "Oh! I almost forgot! I finally bought a new car! It's a mustang,"

"Hallelujah! She finally listened!" said Nikki, dropping his head back to pretend he was looking at God.

Sammi smirked and flipped him off. "Great to know you didn't leave your sarcasm at rehab,"

"Oh, I love family dinners!" exclaimed Tommy, being the first of a domino effect to rise from his seat to take his dirty plate to the kitchen. Mick and Vince soon left, leaving Nikki and Sammi alone. They stayed in silence, Sammi scratching her neck as she looked away from Nikki. Nikki kept his eyes on Sammi.

"Do you wanna go for a walk outside? I can show you the lake," asked Nikki. Sammi only nodded.

As Nikki and Sammi walked beside the stream, they still kept a fair distance between themselves, keeping a guard up. Compared to how they were only a moment ago, they couldn't speak to each other the same way in privacy. One of them had to break the wall first, but they didn't know who it would be or what they would say first.

"I'm sorry," said Sammi.

Nikki halted, scrunching his brows in deep 11's at Sammi. "What? You're sorry? For what?"

Sammi sat down on the dry grass, inching close to dip her finger in the cold lake water; Nikki sat beside her. "I started to think after the therapy session about how we started, and I realized I wasn't nice. It wasn't ideal to how a couple should start,"

"Sammi-"

"Just hear me out, please," said Sammi, biting her lip as she stared out into the water. "When I got with Vince I knew you had feelings for me, but I didn't do anything about it. I just ditched you and you have to admit that must've hurt, Nikki. Even if we got together in the end,"

Nikki sighed out, pulling out pieces of grass under his feet. "Yeah it did,"

"I should've never gotten with Vince right after we had sex for the first time, and I'm sorry I would go to you when Vince pissed me off, I shouldn't have done that either. I knew how much you cared about me and I still listened to Athena & Tommy. I should've just chosen for myself," said Sammi, finally looking at Nikki.

"Would you have gotten with Vince even if your siblings weren't in your ear?" asked Nikki.

"No… but I think I needed it. I needed that little heartbreak to learn," said Sammi.

"Thank you. I appreciate it, Sammi. I really do," said Nikki with a smile. Sammi sighed out, feeling the weight leave her shoulders.

"Also I'm so fucking sorry I called you by that name. I was just-"

"Sammi, again, I appreciate it," chuckled Nikki. Silence soon filled between them again.

"Hey, have you happened to have any 'demons' hit you up?" asked Sammi.

Nikki dryly chuckled. "If you mean my past drug buddies, only one. Veronica called me when I was in rehab,"

"Oh," said Sammi in straight monotone.

"Don't worry, she finally got the idea we're not getting married,"

"Hope she returned that fucking ring. What did she want?" asked Sammi.

Nikki smiled at Sammi, finding her jealousy amusing. "She said she almost overdosed a week before calling me, only to have her call me high off her ass. So I just wished her well and hung up. I couldn't handle that,"

"You sadly can't fix them all I guess," said Sammi sadly.

"I'm scared, Sam. I'm scared to go back to L.A," blurted out Nikki.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not the same Nikki that left. I know I'm going to lose friends but what if I get home and find out I really had no one this whole time?" asked Nikki, looking down at the grass. "Then what do I do?"

Sammi swallowed away her nerves, inching closer to Nikki as she laid a gentle hand on his bicep. "Hey, look at me," said Sammi. Nikki turned, eye dilating from how close to Sammi for the first time. "You have people now who truly care about you and you alone. I can already see a better relationship between you and the guys," Sammi soon grew hesitant, looking away from Nikki for a second. "And you have me. That's all you need right now after finally getting better. Remember that," said Sammi, squeezing Nikki's arm.

It took all of Nikki's strength to not lean in and kiss Sammi but be a miracle he managed. "Thank you, Sammi. I appreciate it," said Nikki. Sammi rested on her knees and hugged Nikki the best way they could. Nikki leaned into her, wrapping an arm around her waist.

June 15th, 1988

A knock on the hard hotel door almost scares Sammi, jumping off her bed and softly tiptoeing to look through the peephole. When seeing Nikki appear anxious in the hallway, she swung the door open with worry.

"Nikki, what's wrong? Are you okay? Are the guys okay?" asked Sammi in one breath, lightly placing a hand on his chest. Nikki shook his head, walking right into the single bed hotel room.

"I, um, I just really needed to give you something before you go tomorrow," said Nikki, rubbing his fingers together in a nervous habit.

Sammi eyed Nikki, not downplaying scanning him from head to toe. "Okay but just know you're scaring me," said Sammi, sitting at the foot of the bed. Nikki stood right in front of Sammi, pulling out a cassette tape from his jean pocket. He gave it one last look before handing it to Sammi, not looking her in the eye. As Sammi took the cassette, she quickly noticed "Without You" written by Nikki on the front, scrunching her brows together.

"You can play this right when I leave," said Nikki, ready to walk right out of the room. Instead, Sammi took to hold onto his wrist.

"What the hell is going on? Why're you giving me the song Tommy wrote?" asked Sammi.

Nikki sighed. "Tommy didn't write it. I did. It's finally a love song I wrote that isn't disguised… and that's about us,"

"You wrote me a love song?" smiled Sammi. Nikki nodded with a blush on his cheeks. Sammi couldn't help it any longer, standing on the tips of toes, cradling Nikki's face as she leaned in for that kiss. A kiss so soft and kind, Nikki felt his heart burst out of his chest, afraid to kiss again.

"Thank you," whispered Sammi, a smile still on her lips. Nikki scoffed, matching a smile. "But I need to listen to this right now," Sammi said, darting straight to the radio on the desk table. Nikki didn't protest, only groaned as he dropped himself on the bed, hiding under a pillow. The song in its entirety was touching but more so for Sammi, paying deep attention to every lyric. Sammi took the cassette out when it finished, looking over at Nikki's body thrown on the bed. She stretched herself on the bed, taking the pillow off Nikki's face to see his deep red flush.

"I love you," said Sammi. Nikki looked up in shock at Sammi, lips parting as if he wanted to say something. But all he caught was another kiss from Sammi with more passion. The two fell almost into the same old routine, Nikki's hand caressing Sammi's hair, Sammi's hand on Nikki's clothed chest. As Sammi started to lower her hands, the feeling of excitement turned into anxiety for Nikki in a blink of an eye.

"Sammi," whispered Nikki, placing his hands on her shoulders, giving the distance between them.

"What's wrong?" asked Sammi. Nikki slowly sat up, wiping the sweat off his hands. He took a few deep breaths, not able to look in Sammi's direction. "Are you okay, Nikki?"

"Remember when I told you I was scared?" asked Nikki. Sammi nodded. "Being with you like this was in that same word," said Nikki, meeting Sammi's worried eyes. "I-I've never been sober and doing this… with you,"

"Not even a little sober?" asked Sammi.

"When I say I was dependent, I really mean it. I needed a bit of something to bring me nerves down,"

"Guess your shyness didn't go away either," joked Sammi, rubbing her finger softly on Nikki's cheek. "Nikki, I'm not going to pressure you to do anything you don't want to do,"

"And trust me I do. It's just what if I'm bad at everything I thought I was good at between us?"

"I don't think it works like that, sweetheart. But I still don't want you to feel pressured to sleep with me. We can just cuddle and fall asleep. It'll be okay," reassured Sammi.

Nikki smiled lovingly at Sammi, leaning in to kiss her softly. "I love you, Sammi Lee. I really do," whispered Nikki.

Sammi's cheeks flushed. "And I love you, Nikki Sixx," whispered Sammi, leaning her head on Nikki's shoulder.

"Come on, you have a flight in the morning," said Nikki, playfully pushing Samami down on the bed. As Nikki stood at the bed's foot to strip down to his boxers, Sammi got under the soft white covers. The two fell back into the routine of late-night tv and cuddles. Nikki having his arm securely around Sammi with her head laid on his bare chest. The feeling of calm security quickly engulfed the two after a long marathon of danger. It was perfect.

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cfiesler · 4 years

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thoughts on AO3 from a content moderation researcher

A few days ago I tweeted some thoughts about current conversations around content moderation and racism on AO3. I thought I’d reproduce here:

OK I'm going to weigh in on the tagging/content moderation conversation happening right now regarding Archive of Our Own. To be clear, this is me as a content moderation researcher who has also studied the design of AO3, NOT me as a member of the OTW legal committee.

To clarify the issue for folks: Racism is a problem in fandom. In addition to other philosophical and structural things regarding OTW, there have been suggestions for adding required content warnings or other mechanisms to deal with racism in stories posted to the archive.

Here's a description of the content warning system from a paper I published about the design of AO3, in which I used this as an example of designing to mitigate the value tension of inclusivity versus safety:

“Knowing that this tension would exist, and wanting to protect users from being triggered or stumbling across content they did not want to see, AO3 added required warnings for stories. These include graphic violence, major character death, rape, and underage sex. These warnings were chosen based on conventions at the time, what fan fiction writers already tended to warn for when posting stories elsewhere. Warnings are not only required, but are part of a visual display that shows up in search results. One early concern was that requiring these warnings might necessitate spoilers—for example, telling the reader ahead of time that there was a major character death. Therefore, AO3 added an additional warning tag: ‘Choose not to use archive warnings.’ Seeing this tag in search results essentially means ‘read at your own risk.’ Most interviewees found this to be a solution that did a good job at taking into account different kinds of needs."

The idea is certain kinds of objectionable content is allowed to be there as long as it's properly labeled. Content will not be removed for having X, but it can be removed for not being tagged properly for having X. This allows users to not have to see content labeled with X.

My students and I have studied content moderation systems in a number of contexts, including on Reddit and Discord, and I actually think that this system is kind of elegant and other platforms can learn from it. That said, it relies on strong social norms to work.

One of the big problems with content moderation is that not everyone has the same definition of what constitutes a rule violation. Like... folks on a feminist hashtag almost certainly have a different definition of what constitutes "harassment" than on the gg hashtag.

A few years ago we analyzed harassment policies on a bunch of different platforms and usually it's just like "don't harass people" but okay what does that mean? I guarantee you there are people on twitter who think rape threats aren't harassment.

So a nice thing about communities moderating themselves--like on subreddits--is that they can create their own rules and have a shared understanding of what they mean (here’s a paper about rules on Reddit). So you can have a rule about harassment and within your community know what that means.

I've talked for a long time about the strong social norms in fandom and how this has allowed in particular for really effective self regulation around copyright. In fact I wrote about this really recently based on interviews conducted in 2014. HOWEVER -

Generally, I think social norms are not as strong in fandom as they used to be, in part because it's just gotten bigger and there are more people and also some generational differences and we're more spread out. (My PhD advisee) Brianna & I wrote about this for TWC.

So the point here is that without those very strong shared norms, definitions differ - across sub-fandoms, across platforms, across people. Whether that thing we're defining is commercialism, harassment, or racism.

This isn't to say that there *shouldn't* be a required content warning for racism in fics, but I think it's important to be aware how wrought enforcement will be because no matter how it is defined, a subset of fandom will not agree with that definition.

That said, design decisions like this are statements. When AO3 chose the required warnings, it was a statement about what types of content it is important to protect the community from. I would personally support a values-based decision that racism falls into that category.

Design also *influences* values. An example of this was AO3's decision to include the "inspired by" tag which directly signaled (through design) that remixing fics without explicit permission was okay. Another quote from the paper:

“Similarly, Naomi described a policy decision of AO3 that was a deliberate attempt to influence a value. Prior work understanding fandom norms towards re-use of content has shown something of a disconnect, with different standards for different types of work [15,16]. Surprisingly, although fan authors themselves are building on others’ work, some don’t want people to remix their remixes. In Naomi’s original blog post, there is some argument between fans about what AO3 should do about this, with suggestions for providing a mechanism for fan writers to give permission for remixing. Naomi described their ultimate design, and feels that in the time that has followed the creation of AO3, the values of the community have actually shifted to be more accepting of this practice:

‘We had baked in right from the beginning that you could post a work to the archive that was a remix, or sequel, or translation, or a podfic or whatever, based on another work, another fannish work. As long as you gave credit, you didn’t need permission. In fact, we built a system into the archive where it notifies [the original author]. That was because we were coming from a philosophy where what we’re doing is fair use. It’s legal. We are making transformative work. We don’t need permission from the original copyright holder. That’s why fanfic is legitimate. But what’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander… So, I think that’s an example, actually, where archive and OTW almost got a little bit ahead of the curve, got a little bit ahead of the broader community’s internal values. That was a deliberate concerted decision on our part.’”

A design change to AO3 that forces consideration of whether there is racism in a story you're posting could have an impact on the overall values of the community by signaling that this consideration is necessary AND that you should be thinking of a community definition of racism.

Also important: content moderation has the potential to be abused. And I know that this happens in fandom, even around something as innocuous as copyright, since I've heard stories of harassment-based DMCA takedown campaigns.

There's a LOT of tension in fandom around public shaming as a norm enforcement mechanism, and I would want to see this feature used as a "gentle reminder" and not a way to drum people out of fandom. (See more about that in this paper.)

That said, I think these reminders are needed. There will be a LOT of "uh I didn't know that was racist" and that requires some education. Which is important but also an additional burden on volunteer moderators who may be grappling with this themselves.

This is more a thread of cautions than solutions, unfortunately. Because before there can be solutions, we need: (1) an answer to a very hard question, which is "what is racism in fanfiction/fandom?" and this answer needs to come from a diverse group of stakeholders, and (2) a solution for enforcement/moderation that both makes sure that folks directly impacted by racism are involved AND that we're not asking for burdensome labor from already marginalized groups.

All of this comes down to: Content moderation is HARD for so many reasons, both on huge platforms and in communities. AO3 is kind of a unique case with its own problems but I am optimistic about solutions because so many people care about the values in fandom.

I’m still thinking about this and welcome others’ thoughts!

#archive of our own #ao3 #OTW #fanfiction #fandom #acafandom #content moderation

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yourneighborhooddisaster · 4 years

Text

kings of unconventional (part three) ROMAN

Again! Late as fuck! I’m sorry, I had no motivation for what felt like forever. Hey, listen to Experience by Ludovico Einaudi while you’re writing btw. Also the thing abt me getting an AO3 account? The stupid blocker on my computer that I can’t figure out how to turn off deemed the website unworthy, and frankly I don’t have the energy.

Warnings: Kissing I suppose? I consider it a blessing but whatever. It’s kind of just a fluffy meet cute.

Tagging: @emiisanxious @genderfluidmoma @my-life-is-an-artistic-mess @penguins-penguins @jinxedrose101 Imma cross my fingers and hope I tagged everyone.

Still short, but it’s a tiny bit longer this time! Yay! Fic under the cut.

ROMAN inhaled the familiar scent of orange aerosol as he checked into the bookshop as a volunteer. Though he wasn’t a big reader, he came in on Thursdays to help supervise the meetings of Inqueery, a new book club that was quickly gaining speed due to its focus on LGBT+ content from all different types of genres. It was designed to help curious or queer youth label themselves if they preferred and to introduce people to media put out by the LGBT+ community.

Roman knew he was polyamorous and gay already, and he was very comfortable with his sexuality. Although, it helped a bit when your destiny was written across your arm. Many people came into these meetings simply to meet people and make sense of their soulmark. It was especially hard for kids with gender neutral names like ‘Alex’ or ‘Riley.’ But since it was technically still a book club, Roman came here to help guide the curious and confused so readers could discuss their books in peace. Mr. Sanders used to do it, but as he got older, he split his time between resting and keeping his business afloat.

He got a head start on changing the displays as he waited for Joan, an official hire. What Roman liked about Mr. Sanders’s Books is that every other day, the displays rotated, so lesser known authors and books got their chance in the spotlight. Even if it was some extra work. He had just finished with all of the display shelves when someone tapped him on the arm, prompting him to turn around.

“Well hello there, cutie.” In front of him, a curly haired young man with square glasses smiled brightly. He proudly sported a rainbow pin, a he/him pin, and a poly pride pin, all attached to his gray cardigan that fell loosely around his shoulders. He beamed at the compliment. (And blushed a little. Roman considered that a win.)

“Hi! I was wondering if you knew where the sign up sheet for Inqueery was? I can’t seem to find it. I’m new in town, so I was hoping I could make friends.” Well wasn’t he precious. Roman felt his heart melting into a puddle of goo.

“Of course! It’s actually behind the counter, which is why you couldn’t find it. There’s a bit of a waiting list simply due to funding. Unless you can buy your own book, in which case you can join as soon as they start a new one.” Roman grabbed the clipboard and a blue marker from under the counter. “Here you go sir! Oh, hey Joan! I finished the displays, so I’ll be out of your hair in a bit.” Their fond smile made Roman grin as they passed him to go to the back. “So yeah, just sign right here.”

“Thanks! I can buy my own book, which means that I check off this box here, right?” Roman nodded and watched as Patton signed his-

Patton.

“I’m Roman and I really want to kiss you right now,” he blurted like an absolute idiot. But Patton looked up, nearly in awe. They pulled their sleeves up simultaneously, and true enough, Patton’s name was in simple blue half cursive, nearly identical to his signature on the sign up sheet. Roman’s name was in big red letters on Patton’s arm, fancy swirls underlining it. But directly underneath, ‘Logan’ was written in scribbly dark blue handwriting, just barely decipherable. Both ‘Virgil’ and ‘Janus’ were still in neat black print. “You met him? What’s he like?” Patton giggled.

“He kind of ran away from me in a moment of gay panic. But he complimented me first, and he seemed really sweet.” Roman’s face must have fallen slightly because Patton leaned over the counter and booped his nose, making him snort with laughter. “We’ll find him again, don’t you worry. We’re meant to be together.” Roman leaned over the counter as well, getting much farther forward than Patton had.

“It’s destiny.” Patton’s eyes widened and his face reddened, but he captured Roman’s lips in a soft, sweet kiss. They both closed their eyes and melted, Roman bringing his hand up to caress Patton’s cheek. No fireworks went off, but it was like burying your face in a ton of cotton candy at the fair - sugary and exhilarating. His mind traveled to the fair as they deepened the kiss. God, that’d be a beautiful date. He imagined the food, the ferris wheel, the bumper cars - but the loud crash that sounded wasn’t in his head. Roman broke away from the kiss and saw an absolutely mortified young man desperately picking up way too many books for one person to carry.

“Oh, are you okay?” Roman had officially decided Patton was perfect as he rushed to the young man’s side. Roman quickly followed, putting stacks of books on the counter. He offered out his hand, and the guy shakily accepted it.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, just a little shaken-” His eyes dropped to Roman’s arm and his jaw went slack. Roman and Patton followed his gaze. In purple, relatively neat print. Virgil. “Up.” Virgil scrambled to his feet. “So you’re...“ He pulled up his sleeve. “Roman and Patton?”

“Two of your soulmates at your service. Roman Regio. Lovely… lovely to meet you, Virgil.” The words almost died in his throat as his breath was taken away by the man. Virgil was tall. And Roman was taller than average, but wow. Oh god that was hot. Why was that hot? He inhaled sharply. Man, he really wanted to kiss him right now.

“I have such handsome soulmates!” Patton exclaimed. Roman felt his face warm, but Virgil went full on red. “I know we just met, but I feel so close to you two already. We should get ice cream! And then we can learn all about each other and we can-”

“Slow down sweetheart, I think we’re overwhelming our poor Virgil.” Virgil seemed as if he was gonna fall over again, though he had his hand on the wall to steady himself. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m… I’m great. I’m so, so… great.” Virgil glanced between them and smiled like he was close to shouting that this was the best day of his life. It certainly was the best of Roman’s. “I- uh, wow.” Roman looked over at Patton, who, even though he had known him for all of five minutes, looked at him like he could read his mind. Patton nodded excitedly, so Roman stepped slightly closer.

“May I kiss you?” Virgil stumbled then, and Roman’s arm shot out to steady him, and as Virgil looked over at Patton, who was still smiling, (thank goodness Roman hadn’t misinterpreted his expression) Roman stood on his toes and gripped Virgil’s patchy jacket. Virgil glanced back with longing in his eyes. “May-”

“Oh God yes.” Roman didn’t need to hear another thing. He yanked Virgil down and there. There were the fucking fireworks. Kissing him wasn’t better or worse than kissing Patton, it was just different. So different. He was nearly unable to stop himself from shoving his tongue in Virgil’s mouth right away, but Virgil opened his mouth hungrily for him anyway. This was an explosion, all the blood rushing in his head told him that. But they didn’t need an explosion quite yet. Ice cream sounded nice. So Roman pulled away, smiling as Virgil tried to follow him with his lips. “I-” Roman stepped back, and Virgil flushed hotly in embarrassment, but he then nodded to Patton, who beamed.

“May I?” Virgil nodded, looking dumbfounded and completely overwhelmed, but in a good way. Patton giggled as he got closer, his hands slipping up to clasp around Virgil’s neck. Roman sighed as their lips connected, knowing that Patton was leading the chaste, soft kiss and knowing exactly how it felt. He grinned and nearly laughed as the tips of Virgil’s ears went red, but when they separated, his grin only widened at the smile on Virgil’s face. Patton’s kisses were so sweet, they were enough to distract Virgil from anything else.

“So my darlings, I think that ice cream sounds great. How about you?”

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taxominn · 4 years

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A Comprehensive Guide to Archive of Our Own Filters

It’s complicated, I know. I’ve been using the website for years and there’s still stuff I don’t understand! I thought it’d be a nice idea to add a little guide for the filters on here for all those who need it. Enjoy!

What is Archive of Our Own?

Archive of Our Own, called Ao3 for short, is an “archive for transformative fanworks, like fanfiction, fanart, fan videos, and podfic.” (Official Statement on the website.) It’s a place where fans can find and enjoy work from the others within their own fandom, as well as upload their own work!

What are Filters?

On Ao3, Filters allow users to narrow down their searches so that they can find the specific things they’re looking for. BUT, the Filtering system — as well as the tagging system — on Ao3 can get a little complicated.

That’s what this guide is for, so continue on!

Understanding Filters

After selecting a fandom to search in, you’ll see the following image, slightly varied depending on if you’re on desktop or mobile:

(I’m on mobile and I used the Naruto fandom as an example.)

Upon clicking the Filters button, you’ll see a number of choices and drop-down menus:

I’ll be going over these in order!

What is Sort By?

The first option you see is the Sort By menu. Upon clicking the drop-down menu, there are nine things to choose from. What Sort By allows you to do, is choose the order you want your search results to appear in. If, for example, you want the longest fanfics with a bunch of words to appear first, you would click the Word Count option.

If you want the most recently updated fanfics to appear first, you would click the Date Updated option. If you want the fanfics to appear in an alphabetical order (A-Z), you would either click Title or Author.

NOTE:

Numerical Order — Word Count, Hits, Kudos, Comments, Bookmarks.

Alphabetical Order — Author, Title.

Chronological Order — Date Posted, Date Updated.

Include or Exclude?

After Sort By, there are two sections: Include and Exclude.

If there are tags you want to see, make sure to select them under the Include section.

BUT, if there are tags you do NOT want to see, select them under the Exclude section.

What are Ratings?

Content ratings are used for games, TV shows, and movies. They rate how suitable the work is for its audience, and Ao3 does the same.

Ratings are as follows from most widely suitable to least suitable:

General Audiences - E for everyone can read it!

Teen and Up Audiences - 15 and up, leave the children behind.

Mature - 18 and up, sorry teens, adults only!

Explicit - Even some of the adults left the room. 🤐

Not Rated - In limbo, the author decided not to use a rating.

What are Warnings?

Warnings are assigned to works that contain triggering content that can make readers upset or uncomfortable.

Ao3 Warnings are as follows:

Major Character Death - If a work includes an important character death that doesn’t happen in the source material.

Graphic Depictions of Violence - If a work includes gruesome scenes, blood, murder, death, torture, or fighting.

Underage - If a work includes minors participating in illegal acts, specifically regarding sex.

Rape/Non-Con - If a work includes scenes where non-consensual sex takes place.

No Archive Warnings Apply - None of the above warnings are included in the work.

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings - For one reason or another, the creator does not disclose the warnings in the tags, or the warnings just don’t apply.

What are the Categories?

Ao3 Categories allow you to pick the relationship dynamics you wish to search for, or exclude from your search. They are as follows:

M/M - Two male characters in a relationship.

F/F - Two female characters in a relationship.

F/M - One female character and one male character in a relationship.

Multi - More than one kind of relationship and/or a relationship with more than two people.

Other - A relationship that’s not covered by the above categories.

Gen - Fics that aren’t primarily about shipping or explore different types of character relationships.

What are the Fandoms?

Obviously, fandoms are the different fan communities for pieces of entertainment media (musicians, games, tv, anime, etc.) Since you usually select the Fandom you want before filtering, this might confuse you, but it does have a purpose.

The Fandoms section allows you to choose other fandoms within the one you’re searching for. This is for crossover fanfics, or fics that take inspiration and story elements from more than one source material.

When you click the Fandoms tab, it shows you the top ten most used fandom tags under the fandom you’ve already picked. My example fandom was Naruto, so Naruto is the first fandom that shows up.

What are Characters?

The Characters tab shows you the characters in the source material of the fandom you’re looking in. It shows the top ten most used character tags within your search and the amount of fics that they are tagged for in parenthesis.

Select their names to include/exclude different characters.

What are Relationships?

Under the Relationships tab, it shows you the top ten most used relationship tags for the characters within your fandom. The relationships might include characters from other fandoms as well as the commonly written Blank Character/Reader or Blank Character/Original Character fanfics, if that’s what you’re looking for.

Select any of them to include/exclude from your search.

What are Additional Tags?

When you click Additional Tags, it shows the top ten most used tags in general for your fandom that don’t apply to the prior sections. Here, you’ll probably find the Alternate Universe tags, the Angst tag, the Fluff tag, and other common subjects found in your fandom’s fanfiction community.

Other Tags To Include/Exclude?

If the tag you’re looking for couldn’t be found in the previous options, then type it into the Other Tags search bar and you’ll likely find it. If it's a common tag, then it’ll show in an autofill selection pop-up underneath the search bar. If it doesn’t show up there, then you can still type it in yourself and see if you can find any fanfics that fit your search.

...

Now, after all that, there’s still a few more things to tackle, and that would be the More Options section. Under More Options, there are miscellaneous things you can choose to further refine your search.

Crossovers?

We talked about crossovers earlier! Under this section, you can choose one of three options: Include Crossovers, Exclude Crossovers, and Show Only Crossovers.

Include Crossovers allows crossover fanfics into your search, Exclude Crossovers removes crossover fanfics from your search, and Show Only Crossovers is for if you’re only searching for crossover fanfics.

What is Completion Status?

Completion Status is how much of a work is finished. Here, you have three options: All Works, Complete Works Only, and Works in Progress only.

All Works includes both complete and incomplete works in your search. Complete Works Only filters out any works that are not finished. Works in Progress Only filters out any works that are finished.

What is Word Count?

Under Word Count, you can decide how long you want the fanfics in your search results to be. Depending on the amount of words you specify, it will filter out any fanfics that do not fit into your range.

There are two search bars. The first search bar is labelled From. The second is labelled To.

If you put a number in the From search bar, your search results will only show you fanfics with a word count that is equal to and more than the number you searched for.

If you put a number in the To search bar, your search results will only show you fanfics with a word count that is equal to and less than the number you searched for.

Putting numbers in both search bars will give you fanfics with a word count that falls between the two numbers.

What is Date Updated?

Under Date Updated, you can search for works that were updated within a specific time period.

Like the Word Count tab, there is a From search bar and a To search bar. Clicking on either of these search bars should cause a mini calendar to pop up, where you can select the date that you want to specify.

If, for some reason, that does not happen, then the date format should look like this: YYYY-MM-DD.

If you put a date in the From search bar, your search results will only show you fanfics that have been updated on that date and afterwards.

If you put a date in the To search bar, your search results will only show you fanfics that have been updated on that date and previous.

Putting dates in both search bars will give you fanfics that have been updated within the time span you have searched for.

What is Search Within Results?

The Search Within Results search bar allows you to further specify what you want. Here, after you select all your tags, any thing you put in this search bar will be found in the title or summary of your search results. You can search for specific authors or specific phrases, if you want. NOTE: all the stories you search for will have all the tags you selected.

There’s a small blue question mark next to where it says Search Within Results, and that gives you instructions on how to use special characters/symbols to include or exclude which words you’d like or would not like to find.

What is Language?

After choosing all the different tags and all of that, you have your last selection option. Here, you’ll see a drop-down menu where you can choose one language that you want all of your search results to be in.

Anddd… done!

When you’re ready, click the Sort and Filter button and your search results will pop up!

I hope A Comprehensive Guide to Ao3 Filters has been helpful for anyone confused about the filters and search options. If you’ve got anymore questions, don’t be afraid to ask.

ℋ𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 ℛℯ𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃ℊ!

Taxomin, out! ⭐️

#ao3 fanfic #how to use ao3 #ao3 guide #confusion #filters #tagging #archive of our own #fanfiction #ao3 writer #how to #guide #questions #help

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nukyster-blog · 4 years

Text

Changing course Chapter 24) Safe Keepers

.-.-.

Piglet had taken Ivar’s demands to heart and had the decency to portray herself as a cheerful companion. The ten years of being a slave taught her to mold herself into the perfect image, to whoever had a claim at her.

Ivar didn’t buy her overcompensation for a bit and refused to eat anything he hadn’t seen her previously take a bite from herself. Piglet, the queen mother of spoiling meals.

But Ivar would rather have this actress clinging to his lips and dancing to his needs then have Piglet relapse into that impossible state of smolder and angry eyes.

Piglet talked more, too, which meant she spoke over four words. She kept her talks to basic chit-chat; about her labour, about the animals. The cold, the kitchen bitches. But it was nice to hear someone speak in his mother tongue while playing a game.

“Have you seen the fair maiden?”, Ivar asked bluntly while it was Piglet’s turn to throw the knucklebones.

Piglet’s dull stare and raised eyebrow told him enough; she was playing dumb again. Ivar pulled the golden necklaces from his pocket and let the cross spin in front of Piglet’s face.

“The fair maiden who gave me this,” Ivar continued, “have you seen her recently?”

Piglet was clearly not amused that he brought up his “quote-unquote” mistake. It showed in her bearing, although she tried her best to maintain a blank face.

“No”, was her simple and short answer and she threw the knucklebones on the floor. “Your turn.”

Ivar wasn’t willing to settle with such a useless answer and swiped the bones away.

“Speak the truth Piglet,” he warned her.

“I am,” Piglet stated, annoyed. “Play Ivar,” she pushed and nudged her head to his balled fist.

‘And we’re back at four words’, Ivar thought to himself, rolling his eyes as he tossed the knucklebones in the sand. In a flash he counted the pieces and smirked.

“I win”, he stated and Piglet huffed, “you lose, Piglet.”

Recollecting the bones Ivar dared to ask Piglet a very direct question: “Have you ever been in love?”

Piglet smiled, but it wasn’t her bright smile that showed her perfect teeth and crinkled her cheeks into dimples. This was a condescending smile.

“I hate men, Ivar.” She testified and pretended that his question did not take her off guard. His words turned her jittery, made her fingers wrinkle and unwrinkle the tattered fabric of her skirt.

Ivar noticed: “But yet here you are, playing games with me. I’m a man.”

Piglet seemed appalled by his statement and made a face as if he’d forced her to eat a slug. “Maksura,” she nodded to his legs and then eyed up at his crotch, “you’re broken, you don’t count as men.”

This was a very nasty blow below the belt and Ivar’s jaws tightened. She was pushing all the right buttons to make him stop speaking to her, questioning her. Digging into her personal realm of secrets and mystique. Her spiteful words were the only defence mechanism she had against him.

So, after managing a clear face, Ivar calmly continued his interrogation: “aside from my handicaps, I’m still the thing you despise. Yet you’ve cared for me from the start. Before Ludolf returned home. You didn’t have to do that, yet you did and remained doing, even after I treated you like dirt. Why?”

Piglet stared him dead in the eyes for a while before crossing her legs in her lap and straightening her back.

“You have a Djinn inside of you, spirit,” she spoke toneless, “it’s right behind your eyes and it comes out in anger. Djinn will protect you, but feeds on you. You’re cursed Ivar.”

Ivar felt the tiny hairs on the back of his neck spike up by her confession and took a moment to let her words sink in. Her confession made sense; it verified the feelings of always being different. A fraud, a changeling. Maybe his brother’s spiteful accusations held a sense of truth.

“Two peas in a pod,” Piglet locked eyes, “I have Djin too. It never comes out, hides. Protects me from inside, keeps men away.” She let her eyes roll back and made a spastic neck motion, “My curse, my safe keeper.”

Although Ivar still had one more question to ask as a rule of their three-question-game, he quietly picked up the knucklebones. Throwing them into the sand he wished he’d asked a different question.

.-.-.

Piglet’s revelation left Ivar conflicted and troubled. He wished he could simply scoff at her words and label her mad for speaking such foolishness. But the longer he thought about what she explained to him last night, the more sense it made.

Everything.

His lack of empathy, this unearthly feeling of being dead inside. Maybe that was hitting the nail on the head; death, maybe the Djinn was the cause of his explosive nature, his unhealthy satisfaction of seeing other people’s suffering. Maybe there was a thing inside of him that feasted on his heart, soul, of all his emotions.

He’d always been an outcast, not just physically. He did not think like other men. He was different, ruthless and cruel.

But then, how could Piglet be a kindred spirit? Her empathy was overwhelming and much stronger than her hatred towards the Christians. She loved her animals and had a nurturing soul.

They were as different as day and night, inside and out. A dualism, an opposition of each other. Ivar’s rage had always been external and explosive. His relentlessness to survive had proven itself more powerful than the Christian’s death penalty.

Piglet’s force was that of the imploding kind, shaking her to the core and forcing everyone around her to take a few steps back.

They were as different as fire and ice, yet their paths had been intertwined. Maybe long before they physically met. For Piglet had been his savior from day one and the first woman he’d felt generally concerned for, aside from his mother.

It’s right behind your eyes, oh how Ivar wished he’d been able to have a glance at his own reflection. He realised he hadn’t been able to take a good look at himself for a very long time. And maybe that was a good thing, because he hadn’t had a proper bath or shave ever since King Egbert’s broken promise. His short hair had grown till the tips of his shoulders, all tangled up and impossible to put a brush through, if he had that luxury. He’d never had a lot of facial hair, but now a scraggly beard had climbed his face like last year's ragged vines after a severe winter.

Ivar feared that he would not recognize his own reflection and, after Piglet’s revelation, maybe not even his own bright blue eyes.

What if he’d see something behind his eyes, what if he’d witness something unearthly staring back at him?

‘Two peas in a pod, two peas in a pod, Ivar spent his day with gloom, staring across the box while his mental state deteriorated.

“I’m going mad Piglet”, Ivar confessed when the slave girl placed his meal near his feet.

Piglet hummed aloof and started eating. She was forced to be decent to him, but that didn’t mean Ivar could count on her sympathy.

Which annoyed him dearly, but exploiting her to shed a tear and hold his hand would make him feel feeble and weak.

Ivar decided to take another turn and started talking, just for the mere sound of his mother’s tongue. He spoke of how he was Viking, a fearless, seafaring raider. He left out the part where he threw up the entire content of his stomach due to seasickness and the time he nearly pissed his pants during the storm.

Piglet didn’t buy his grandiloquence bluff but listened to him without any interruptions. Of course, she did not believe the crippled slave of de Haar was being honest. Ivar was aware he didn’t resemble the imposing berserker he was portraying himself to be.

“I once slaughtered a Christian, you know?” Ivar revealed when Piglet rolled her eyes and scoffed at his speech.

“When I was a mere ten winters young,” he continued watching how Piglet stilled and sat back down, “I ripped him apart and used his bones for my tafl game. Maybe once I’m done with the Giant we can use his for our three-question-game, eh?”

His grotesque statement made Piglet shudder and bite her lip, but then she eyed the chains that kept him locked inside the shed.

“Caged Ivar,” she told him firmly and almost taunting, “crackbrained.” She added with a smile creeping up her face.

Ivar shot forwards, howling when he felt the cuts on his back stretch and was abruptly stopped a few inches in front of Piglet’s face.

“I will burn this castle down until there's nothing more than ashes,” he hissed, bearing his teeth. If he wanted, he could grasp Piglet, send her back to the ground and overpower her for daring to look at him so boorish. For a moment his hand twitched, but turned into a fist and slammed itself down into the sand.

“Ivar the martyr, Ivar the bloody,” Piglet belittled, “Ivar full of shit. Ivar slave. Ivar dog with muzzle.” She barked as she flinched back to avoid his fist smashing her nose.

“And what does that make of you then, huh Piglet?”, Ivar shouted. “You’re just a mediocre, foul bitch, with despoiled skin and seizures.”

“Still bitch without a leash,” Piglet informed him, mockingly. Her laughter echoed through the shed as she jumped the border of his box to avoid being hit in the face with Ivar’s bowl.

.-.-.

A/N: Well that was almost half a chapter of them not getting into each other’s hair. So close. So the Djinn, I came up with this possibility a while back when I wondered where Piglet’s reselicance to keep Ivar alive comes from. She needed more than just a caring nature. Pity didn’t seem right, so I wanted to give her something inside of Ivar she’d recognize within herself. She’s an outcast, not just for her skin. She has a handicap too. What I liked in Vikings is how Ragnar explained to Ivar that his crippled legs were his strength. I still feel strongly that Ragnar only said this to coach Ivar into taking revenge. But still, a very strong message. So, basically we have two cursed outcasts versus a castle. I always love the underdogs.

Xoxoxo Nukyster

The kickass beta: @sarahh-jane

The tagged ones:@youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @saldelys @shannygoatgruff@pieces-by-me@apenas-mais-uma-pessoa@readsalot73@lauraan182 @conaionaru@sarahh-jane@peachybonelessIf you’d liked to be tagged, please let me know:)

#Ivar te boneless fanfic #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #vikings #vikings fandom #vikings fanfic #alex hogh andersen #ivar the dog

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