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bribery
Well. One of the eternal questions of fandom seems to always be "How do you get people to write what you want?"
There are, of course, several different answers to this question. One way involving being really really cute. Another way involves being really, really lucky, and another involves really a lot of poking. But I've found one of the best ways involves lots and lots of bribes.
So. I am aching for some good due south threesome fic. Porn is good, and nonporn is good, too; it definitely doesn't have to be a ship-type thing. Boys, girls, a combination of the two -- pretty much any three characters that inspire. (Well. All humans, preferably, but otherwise -- sure. I'm not usually crazy about Turnbull, but maybe you could convince me. Or maybe Caroline/Bob/Buck Frobisher *would* be a good story -- who knows?)
As for the bribe: if you write ds threesome for me of 100 words or more, I will write something for you in return at your request -- porny or not, your choice of ds pairing or character.
P.S. I am very very cute. Look! You want to write for me!
There are, of course, several different answers to this question. One way involving being really really cute. Another way involves being really, really lucky, and another involves really a lot of poking. But I've found one of the best ways involves lots and lots of bribes.
So. I am aching for some good due south threesome fic. Porn is good, and nonporn is good, too; it definitely doesn't have to be a ship-type thing. Boys, girls, a combination of the two -- pretty much any three characters that inspire. (Well. All humans, preferably, but otherwise -- sure. I'm not usually crazy about Turnbull, but maybe you could convince me. Or maybe Caroline/Bob/Buck Frobisher *would* be a good story -- who knows?)
As for the bribe: if you write ds threesome for me of 100 words or more, I will write something for you in return at your request -- porny or not, your choice of ds pairing or character.
P.S. I am very very cute. Look! You want to write for me!
I am *so* ashamed. Not.
"I *am* adventurous, Ante. Didn't I eat that donut with the lime-green icing that your woman had in her kitchen?"
"Not *that* kind of adventurous. Although, that was a mighty tasty-looking donut...hey, you're trying to change the subject. Come on! He's cute, isn't he?"
"That's hardly the point. He's...so small!"
"Size-ist half-wolf!"
"Ante, he's not moving. I don't think he's interested."
"Chicken."
"I am not!"
"Double-dog, er, double-human dare you!"
"Okay, fine, but I'm telling you, he doesn't look like he's going to be much of an active participant in this little orgy you're trying to arrange."
"That's my big boy! It'll be fun, you'll see."
"Hey, Fraser. What's up with the furface and Frannie's pooch?"
"I honestly couldn't tell you, Ray. They seem to have taken a great interest in Turnbull's stuffed wolf and...Dief! Ante! Stop that this instant."
"Like owners, like dogs."
"For God's sake, Ray...neither Frannie nor I would ever... Diefenbaker! You should be ashamed."
"Looks consensual to me, Fraser. Not like you to stand in the way of true love. Lust. Whatever."
"You're not helping, Ray."
"Heh."
Re: I am *so* ashamed. Not.
Your brain is so very, very strange, my dear.
"Size-ist half-wolf!"
*snickers some more*
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I promise.
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But I tried.
-----
"I used to imagine you with her."
Fraser's voice was soft and even in the dark, expressionless, like he was talking about the weather. "You. With her. How you'd be. This was before I'd scraped together the courage to imagine you with me."
Ray patted his hand reassuringly, but he hardly seemed to notice. "And then one night when I was imagining it, she turned to me -- this was in my fantasy, you understand -- she turned to me and said, 'Come on, Ben, hold his hands for me.' "
"Jesus." Ray's mouth was suddenly dry. Christ, Fraser pinning his wrists so Stella could -- it was kind of ugly, really, but jesus. Hot.
"So after that I imagined the three of us together. My role evolved from being a utility for her -- taking care of contraception, assuring you didn't move, making sure you were in the proper condition to --" Fraser swallowed loudly. "From an assisting role to a more active one. And then one night --"
He stopped.
"Fraser, what?" Jeez, he had something more embarrassing than this?
"I don't want to repeat something that will be needlessly hurtful, Ray."
"I don't give a fuck about her, Fraser, you know that." He'd been saying that for years, but lately it had surprised him by being true. He had Fraser now, and Fraser didn't want to need him, but he did, and that made all the difference.
"She and I had been alternately -- well, at any rate, she looked at me, again, as she had done that first time, and she said, 'No, you know what, Ben, you go ahead. I'm done with him.' "
'I'm done with him.' Jeez, wasn't that Stella all over. Amazing how Fraser could have captured that, knowing her such a short time. "So then what? That when you made a move?"
"Well, this would have been in late August or early September --"
Fraser hadn't said anything until January at the earliest. "What the hell took you so long?"
Fraser turned on his side and looked at Ray. Even in the dark his eyes were intense.
"I had to be certain she was telling the truth, Ray."
-end-
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Is there anything you'd like me to try and write for you in return?
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Or, barring that, Asylum!Fraser/Ray?
Or just any Fraser/Ray at all?
(And I'm glad you liked it!)
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... that Fraser needed courage to even imagine himself with Ray ...
::flails more::
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I want to grab onto your leg and beg you to come back to DS. Please!!
This was amazing. Really, really loved it. So glad you posted!
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And glad you liked it.
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The thing that makes me a F/K shipper is the fact that RayK is someone who needs to be needed--so much that he could answer Fraser's need for someone to be there for him. Fraser is such a very lonely guy.
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::looks at beating heart on the floor::
wow.
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Glorious.
Thank you.
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Heh, pretty much. But you know, I'm pretty easy and it's not ringing any immediate bells, so -- go ahead! Link me up!
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http://www.livejournal.com/users/helvirago/21164.html#cutid1
http://www.livejournal.com/users/helvirago/21302.html#cutid1
http://www.livejournal.com/users/helvirago/24873.html#cutid1
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Inspired by Resonant
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Not Yours
She saw it from the first moment they returned from the adventure.
It was in how they moved around each other; in their eyes as they looked at each other. No one else noticed, but she knew.
She knew, and it made her angry. What right did he have, taking what had belonged to her? What right at all?
She tried to reclaim him. Deep in the night, when Ray Vecchio was fucking her, she would imagine Ray, her Ray, making love to her. Ray Vecchio never noticed, or never said anything, and the wedding continued to be planned.
She went further the night they announced they were moving to Canada permanently. Ray was out with his best friend, the man that was taking her Ray from her forever. She started by imagining Ray as she knew him, lean and golden and eager to please. Her hand was just reaching into the nightstand for her vibrator when the fantasy changed. Instead of Ray working his long fingers between her legs, he straightened and turned to face Fraser.
“Fuck me,” Ray said, eyes steady and legs spread.
“But Ray,” Fraser said, gesturing vaguely toward her. She flushed with shame at the knowledge that the man that she loathed would give her the acknowledgement of a place in Ray’s life if she demanded it. She would not give him the same gift.
“Forget her, Ben. She can watch.” Ray was rejecting her. Ray was giving himself to a man. Her anger and shame should have killed her arousal, but the image of a naked Ray, wantonly spread open as Fraser worked his fingers into him sent it skyrocketing instead. Her fingers took on a life of their own, working in and out of her, rubbing her clit and G-spot, as the fingers and dick of Fraser worked themselves in and out of Ray, stroking his prostate and caressing his dick.
It ended with her orgasm, coming at the mental sight of Ray ejaculating all over his belly, and as it did, the tears began. She could almost hear Ray it her head, sleepily murmuring in his post-sex voice, the same words she had said to him one day, almost four years ago: “It’s over. I’m not yours anymore.”
Re: Inspired by Resonant
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Re: Inspired by Resonant
Re: Inspired by Resonant
Re: Inspired by Resonant
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Re: Inspired by Resonant
Re: Inspired by Resonant