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ANNE HATHAWAY

for Vogue France

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For Cora, there was something thrilling in the idea of heading into the unknown. Sure, adventures didn't always pan out, they didn't always go well, and there was a chance this would implode and end terribly. That was life, and that was a part of life that she'd weirdly made her peace with. In the present moment, she was excited, eager to try something new with him. There were plenty of reasons this was probably a bad idea, she knew that, but that excitement was enough of a positive to outweigh them.

His comment about Jackson made Cora laugh. "It's a job, and it's almost over." That was her simple attempt to try to smooth over those ruffles. He was providing payment for a service, he was not a permanent fixture in her life. "Let me write your memoir instead, and I'll quit right now." It was obviously something he'd never take her up on, just a joke that would hopefully veer them both away from getting hung up on a negative.

But even if there were a discussion to be had, it was clearly lost the moment he took their hands behind her back, pinning her to him. A soft, pleased hum vibrated in her throat as his thumb slid between her lips. "Yes, Sir." The answer was given as his thumb traveled her upper lip, then another hum as it slid back between her lips. Cora allowed her teeth to graze lightly against the top, her tongue running along the bottom, before doing as she was told, and opening wider.

When she agreed to his suggestion, Declan smiled at her, no wider than usual, but his eyes were warmer, his appreciation obvious from the way he looked at her, and the way his fingers traced along her skin in a gentle caress. There was something about the odd mixture of qualities that resided within Cora that intrigued him, drew him in and made him want to spend more time with her in spite of his usual preferences. In a lot of ways, it was quite strange to him, but he trusted his instincts as well.

He gave a thoughtful nod if his head when she told him about her work, a soft rumble of contemplation accompanying the motion. Then his lips twitched slightly, a little humoured. "Given that I'd rather not have you anywhere near him, I'm sure my preferences in that regard would not suit your desire to maintain a career." It was strange to him, making so many concessions, and he was sure some of them would become a point if contention eventually, but for now he'd chosen to compromise. Not his favorite thing in the world, but necessary for now.

"Very much," he repeated his own words to her, eyes locked on hers to stress the importance of that message coming across, enough to settle comfortably. There had been so much vulnerability in her tone that he felt it entirely necessary. She moved in closer, and Declan took their combined hands to the small of her back, locking her body against his own as her tongue did entirely as expected. "I'm certain that I will," he replied, just a slightly teasing edge to his own tone as he watched her lips wrap themselves around his thumb.

"Would you like to get back to making up for your poor behaviour earlier, angel?" He slipped his thumb in a little further, until her mouth held the entirety of the digit, and then he slowly pulled it almost entirely back out, turning it a little to push against her upper lip, tracing the curve if it and smearing it in saliva, before gradually feeding her his thumb once more. "Open wider for me," he instructed almost gently, like a soft suggestive purr rather than the order it actually was.

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"I was here having dinner and a drink, just like most people Ezra." Caleb's expression was flat, trying to hold back his anger. She got under his skin in a big way, and it made him a little crazy. "I saw you here with him and I wanted to give you a heads up." And that was it. He was done with it. He wasn't going to cause a scene, he wasn't going to be trashy enough to get into a screaming match with his ex in the middle of town.

He was pulling out a pack of cigarettes, digging in his pocket for a lighter, as he walked out to his truck. Leaning against the side of the vehicle, he was trying to clear his head, inhaling deeply, before releasing a heavy plume of smoke. Then he heard her voice and the small bit of peace he'd managed to find evaporated.

"Why would I offer you the damn ride, if I thought it was wrong for you to take?" His eyes were narrowed, and he straightened his posture. "Tell me that. Make that make sense for me. And then I'll give you a ride."

There were times it felt like it was impossible for her to make the right decision in Caleb’s eyes, if she moved on she did it wrong and if she wanted him it wasn’t an option. While she knew Caleb well enough to know he didn’t want her miserable she couldn’t figure out what it was that would let him think she was making a good choice for herself. “I thought I was being smart when I decided to be with you, C…” It was mumbled but she knew he heard her, it just wasn’t worth trying to pick at something she felt he’d just deflect some more.

Defeated she shrugged up at him unsure of what to do but short of screaming at him to just tell her what he wanted her to do or be Ezra just shook her head, scoffing when she shouldn’t at her ex’s remarks about who he wasn’t. “Not what you’d usually have me call you.” Finally she pulled herself from the chair to her feet, “What are you here for then? Just to warn me I’m about to make another bad decision?” She didn’t so much as wave at the guy she’d shown up with on her way out, she didn’t wait for a response from Caleb either before making her way out towards the parking lot and towards the vehicle with too many memories attached to it. It wasn’t worth being out anymore, her mood was sour as her expression and it was him or an uber and she didn’t feel like waiting. “I’ll just take the ride now. Unless you think that’s wrong for me to do too.”

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"Oh I love bein' the center of attention, sweetheart." She wore a smug grin, letting her hand drop away from her own mouth. The alley wasn't busy, there were only a couple other people maybe ten feet away, chatting quietly. It was dark enough that you could really only make out the shapes of people, no distinct features. It was a quiet enough night outside that Cora could pretend they were in their own little world.

She gave a light shiver as Ava leaned in, Cora somewhat shamelessly taking in the smell of her shampoo - clean, fresh, maybe something floral, but really she was too distracted to figure out what.

"Oh." The thought of her like that had Cora's blood running hot, a distinct feeling of desire twisting in her gut. Sincerely, she said, "Good for you." She gave a nod as Ava pulled back, finding herself missing the invasion of her space. So she pushed off the wall, stepping closer to the other woman. "I travel for a living. I'd've loved to be the one to take you into the bathroom. Or maybe play with you underneath a blanket, right there in a seat..."

Ava felt the lingering warmth of Cora’s touch, a tingle running up her arm as her hand slipped away, leaving behind a faint, almost bittersweet ache. Her gaze dropped briefly to Cora’s thumb pressed against her bottom lip, and she swallowed, her thoughts faltering as the view sank in.

"Unless I plan on taking you in a room with people I know?" Ava repeated softly, her voice carrying a faint, breathless laugh. "Well, that depends on how much you like being the center of attention."

Ava sank the last of her drink, the burn of it grounding her as she leaned over Cora to place the empty glass on the ledge behind her. She made no effort to keep her distance, catching the faintest hint of Cora’s perfume—warm, sharp, and intoxicating.

"Alright, truth it is," she murmured, her voice low as she lingered just a moment too long, letting the proximity speak for itself. "I joined the mile-high club while working."

She finally pulled back, adding a sly tilt of her head, "Might help if I told you my job. Air hostess."

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Her sobs and cries were muffled against the fabric of his pants, and then she was choking on that same fabric and part of her wanted to bite down. Part of her wanted to bite and push and crawl and scream and just totally fucking snap. In the grand scheme of things, she was barely just starting out, and she'd made a choice to keep her grandmother alive, and now she was certain it was going to all have been for nothing. Maybe he was right. Maybe she should have tried harder.

Those were shitty, heavy thoughts, and while she'd love to keep exploring them, it was getting harder to focus on anything. She could feel it, the edges of her brain going fuzzier and fuzzier, the longer he held on. Her vision was blurring at a concerning rate, and Rory was sure she wasn't going to make it much longer. Her face was redirected to his crotch, and she had some vague idea of what he wanted from her, but she was so close to passing out that she couldn't actually do anything about it. So instead, she sat there lamely, face pressed roughly to his crotch, unable to breathe, or think, or move.

His girlfriend fell to her knees, gasping in air as expected and yet managing to talk her way through it. "No?" He taunted, "then what the fuck is it, huh?" His grip on her hair tightened painfully as she brought her hands up in an attempt to brace herself, and then - as she made the mistake of telling him to calm down - he pressed harder, turning her head to muffle the end of her sentence against the fabric of his pants. "I don't wanna hear shit out of your worthless fucking mouth, you hear me?" His tone was almost a growl at this point.

His fist dug into her scalp, keeping her locked right there, choking on his covered crotch, mouth filling with fabric if she opened it to try to catch a breath. He kept looking at her, glaring down at her, taking in the way her instincts took over as her body realised it wouldn't get the oxygen it needed. "Yeah, baby, go ahead, struggle for me," he taunted, his grip like iron, not budging an inch no matter how much she spasmed against him. "You can breathe again when I fucking let you."

And then, only when her fight began to ebb a little, did he pull her off his crotch, her ponytail still wrapped around his fist. "Now show me you're a sorry little fucking whore!" He repeated darkly, voice raised a bit as he, not giving her a chance to recover from the choking, directed her face to his crotch once more.

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She was well aware that her feelings were driving this decision. Cora had run on emotion her entire life. Caleb was quiet, analytical, careful. Cora was loud, intuitive, carefree. She'd spent so long cooped up, not allowed to express herself in any real way, that now she rarely held herself back from following a feeling. The thing was, she trusted her intuition implicitly, she always had. And she understood not everyone could operate that way.

After all, it had been a gut feeling that night in the club, to ask another woman (who turned out to be his former submissive, go figure) about him. To be bold enough to ask for an introduction. Every choice she'd made so far regarding their situation, and he loved reminding her that so much of this depended on her consent and choices, had been based in feeling.

As he intertwined their fingers, Cora squeezed his hand gently, giving him a small smile. "A trial run sounds perfect." Because she also wasn't foolish enough to think he had no chance of being wrong. She was stubborn, but never stupid, and while she had the sense that she wouldn't change her mind, she also knew that she would never stay in a situation that didn't feel good to her.

"Of course." Of course she would only be a friend. Of course he'd stay busy. Of course she would never be his central focus, and she wouldn't want to be. "I'll be working as well, though I'll send you my schedule of meetings over that week with Jackson and I'll let you know when I'm arriving and leaving, and if you have any other preferences about that situation, we can discuss them."

And then her brain was melting a little as his thumb traced her lip. "You would?" Because some positive validation did feel pretty good at the moment. Putting herself out there was not easy for her, but Cora found herself doing it time and time again with him. So to hear him say that he'd like her there felt so good. She pressed herself just a bit closer to him, letting her tongue dart out between her lips and swipe at the tip of his thumb. "I think we'll have fun. And I think you'll really enjoy having easier access to me." There was a dirty edge to her words, but if he somehow missed their meaning, then maybe the way she wrapped her lips around his thumb, just to the first knuckle, sucking gently, would clear that up.

"True," he conceded with a tiny little pull at his lips; one did not exclude the other, but he still doubted she was leaning into this for the right reasons. As detached as he could be when it came to the emotional range of other human beings, he was neither blind nor deaf. He knew very well that Cora's attachment to him was at least in part due to the fact that she had feelings for him, and he did not want to enter into something this intense based on something as fleeting as her current feelings.

"Also true," he conceded once more with regards to her learning through experience. He watched her calmly as her hand wandered his torso, and he gently adjusted his hold on her hand to intertwine their fingers. His lips made their way into a slightly fuller smile when she reasoned that her submission was at the core of her desire. "I suppose that's reasonable perspective." Although at this point, he really had no choice but to take her word for it, did he? He really had no right to tell her what she should or shouldn't want.

He gave a slight nod when she mentioned Lily, catching his meaning. To be fair, he hadn't really been presenting options. He'd been relaying facts, telling her the extent of his own preferences. He had scarcely imagined a scenario in which she'd consider it a viable way of life for her. How could it not be a decision made on a whim, when she'd barely given herself time to consider the consequences before choosing to do it? There was a measured exhale, almost a sigh, before he lifted their hands and placed a gentle kiss on the back of hers.

"You may not change your mind, my darling," he spoke softly, "I'm not saying you will." He knew how stubborn she could be after all. "But for the sake of my own comfort, how would you feel about... a trial run?" His own free hand lifted to brush the curve of her cheekbone gently, before he tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. "Take the week to think it over, consider if there's anything else we need to take into account. Then come stay with me next weekend. If all goes well, and you would like to continue at the end of it, you'll stay following week as well... in which case I'd introduce you to Lily when she comes home from her mother's Sunday afternoon."

He paused, taking a steady breath, the tips of a few fingers trailing down her jaw. "Know that I will be working though, that my staff will be here, and that you will be introduced as a friend; what goes on between us will be kept from Lily..." Settling his fingers beneath her chin, he traced the outline of her lower lip with the edge of his thumb as he continued. "But also know that I would very much like to have you in my home, my darling."

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ANDREW GARFIELD "Actors On Actors" behind the scenes

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i am unfortunately a sucker for “kissing practice” that escalates to making out with a little too much interest. and escalates. and escalates.

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She was a hypocrite - Margaret understood that. She knew it was wrong to get all twisted up about Grayson chatting up someone else when she was married. In all honesty, though, it felt good knowing she could still experience such strong feelings. She'd felt close to numb for almost the entire duration of her marriage. At first her the relationship had felt like love, but it had quickly revealed itself to be empty.

"You do have a varied pallet, don't you?" The judgement in her words was unmistakable. And didn't that make her the worst kind of hypocrite there was? The fact that the first time she'd found lipstick on her husband's collar, she'd let herself detach. And every time after when he so clearly cheated again, she let go a little more. Lately, she'd begun to wonder why she'd stayed. But then her lover flirts nearby and Maggie felt genuine ire.

"You looked just as busy as I was." She clicked her tongue, her tone disapproving, not willing to be cast as the only bad guy here. "Let's not pretend like you've been pining for me all evening." A bold thing for her to say, but no one was nearby enough to be listening in. Smoothing her hand down the smooth, black satin of her dress, she glanced casually around the room anyway, just to make sure. "If you want me to leave you alone so you can get back to your little pal, I'll go. I just wanted to say hello, tell you that you look handsome as usual."

For a brief moment, his gaze dropped to the hand on his arm, the not so subtle message lingering in that one touch causing a low chuckle to emerge as he looked back up, meeting her eyes once more. "Oh, come now, Maggie," he drawled playfully, his voice a bit louder than her own, "you know I don't discriminate." He flashed her a cocky little smile, hazel hues dancing with amusement.

There was something about her annoyance in this moment that fed Grayson's ego to a degree that was almost a little ridiculous, and it showed in the way he smiled at her, the smug satisfaction in his eyes. She was married, she'd had her husband's arm around her for most of the night, and yet she had the nerve to be possessive of him? For some reason, it didn't bother him at all - in fact, it was kind of turning him on.

"Besides," he added almost on second thought, nonchalantly glancing in the direction of her husband presently trying to worm his way into bed with someone else, "you looked... busy." The word busy rolled over his tongue with sarcastic humour, almost a little taunting; they both knew she'd just been trotted around the room to further her husband's agenda. He'd clearly discarded her the moment she was done serving her purpose, and now - as usual - she sought out her consolation prize. He almost wanted to add a snide remark on the subject.

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She listened as he spoke, and it wasn't until he was done saying everything he had to say, that she realized she'd been holding her breath. Letting out a quiet exhale, she looked down at his hand, then back up to his eyes. "It can be both, though." Part of her wanted to resist, felt a petulant urge not to give into him, feeling the edges of rejection. But there was something in the way he'd said her name that made her act against those impulses and she reached out, grasping his hand and stepping toward him.

Her movements were tender, her free hand grazing against his chest. "I can give you those things for your sake, while wanting to be part of something like this." He wanted honesty, and as much as she hated it, she would just lay it out for him. "I want to learn, and I can't know if something works for me until I try." The hand on his chest was moving upward, along his shoulder. "And part of what is so appealing about the idea is that it does please you. Which I would argue is rooted in my submission."

"I get that, though. It isn't just about me, and I'm certainly not going to rush anything that could impact Lily. I don't have to move in." She wasn't in a rush. "Though, if you want me to, I will." She cleared her throat, letting her hand move back down along his chest again, trying to ease her nerves. "But I'm not making this decision on a whim. I didn't know you wanted these things, you presented the options, and I'm telling you what I'd like given the information."

And in the spirit of being totally honest, she sighed, telling him, "You know, I know I'm young, I'm not as experienced as you. But I've never cared for being treated with kid gloves. I'm silly, I'm playful, but I'm not as impulsive as I seem. So take your time, but I know myself well enough to know I won't change my mind."

Declan was just listening, really, when she seemingly began listing the reasons why something like what he described wouldn't work for her. None of it was a surprise to him. He already knew it wasn't actually in any way applicable to their dynamic. Cora was a lot of things, but he hadn't at any point considered her slave material. She was too independent, too free, too... young, perhaps.

And then came the but, and Declan's brows rose slightly, just a teeny tiny bit above their usual spot on his forehead, her meaning dawning on him as she spoke. He gave a slight nod of his head in understanding - of course she wasn't done exploring the world; he knew that much. One brow made tis way slightly higher then the other when she addressed the issue of her social group, a little sceptical - not of the idea that she would have some hard no's, but at the idea that there were some she'd let him cut out of her life.

"Compromise is not an issue..." he finally mused, his first words since she'd begun talking, and his tone was uncharacteristically wary as he watched her begin to move towards him. Though his lips twitched slightly at the comment that he would be good at working with creative solutions. Then he took to shaking his head a little, honest surprise flickering briefly in his eyes before it disappeared and he emitted a slightly incredulous chuckle. "Cora..."

He let her name escape him without any more words for a moment, just let it linger in the air between them because for once in his life, he felt a little speechless, unsure how to say what needed to be said. He recovered quickly enough though, taking a sip of his water before placing it on the kitchen table behind him. "It's not about what you can give me for my sake, my darling, although I'm flattered, it's about wanting to be a part of something like this. It needs to be grounded in your own desire for this kind of submission, and it's not for everyone."

He paused, then added, for the sake of clarity: "I'm not turning you down." He let a low chuckle escape. "Believe me, I am not turning you down. But I've made the mistake of diving in too deep with someone who didn't know what they were getting into, once before, and it didn't end well." He reached out a hand for her, palm up in an offer for her to come closer, an invitation for her to touch him. "And since you moving in doesn't impact only you and me," he added slowly then, "I hope you understand why I feel that this decision should not be made on a whim."

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"Hmm." Cora's teeth bit at her lower lip, chewing it lightly for a moment, really considering what he was saying. Sure, it seemed like a lot, but it also didn't seem... well honestly, she didn't think it seemed that bad. There was a certain intimacy to the idea of sharing nearly everything with someone that she found intriguing. One hand fell to the table top, drumming her nails against it, as the other continued to prop her chin.

"I would like to travel. There's too much I haven't seen and too much I haven't done." Really, it was only since she'd gotten out of school, only a handful of years that she'd actually felt able to live. "But I can write from anywhere. That's one of the perks of the job." She wasn't ready to give up the opportunities she'd found for herself. And she didn't want to be that girl. That girl that gave it all up for a guy that definitely wouldn't give it all up for her. She'd never forgive herself if she did that. "And I'd consider letting certain people go for you, but there are some hard no's there too." The whole loyal to a fault thing - there were some people she would never choose a guy over. It was a personal rule.

At the same time, she wanted to make him happy. "But, there's got to be room for compromise here." Carefully, she stood and crossed the room toward him, stopping a step away, "You've been at this a long time. I'm sure you're good with creative solutions. Let me travel. Let me work. Let me miss you and come home and show you. Give me a half hour every day at six pm to talk to Caleb. Otherwise, when I'm not traveling, I can give you that."

She giggled lightly, this time at herself, because this truly was not a situation she ever saw herself falling into. This was not something she'd ever imagine offering herself up for, but there was something about the idea of seeing him thrive that made it easy to do. "I can be here. I can tend to things just to please you. I can try," He was absolutely worth trying for. "And I assume, if I find that something isn't for me, we can cross that bridge when we get to it?"

Boring and basic, to some perhaps. To Declan, the power exchange that took place in a 24/7 dynamic took a lot of different shapes, and it was less about the specifics and more about what those things meant, and how they contributed to cementing the relationship between himself and his submissive. Little things on an every-day basis did wonders to strengthen the bond, no matter how trivial they appeared. But she didn't ask about that, instead she chose to zero in on the first bit.

Declan sighed in response, consuming another mouthful of food before placing his fork on his plate again. Very well; if she wanted to know the extent of it, he'd tell her. "Cora, you've already told me you'd like some autonomy in this arrangement, to work and travel when needed." He removed his watch, placing it on the table, next to his food. "So I'd consider this largely irrelevant, but since you asked, I will tell you that I thrive quite a bit in a Master/slave dynamic."

"It means a complete exchange of power from my submissive to myself. I even like to have a written contract between us to set clear directives. It means I like my submissive to live with me here, and for her to be at my beck and call, ready and available when I need or want her to be. Even for menial tasks such as tending to the whips, or shining my shoes, for no other reason than to please me. It means, at its most extreme, that my submissive does not manage her own finances. If she wants to use more than a set amount for something, she will ask me first. And if she wants to go out with friends, she will clear it with me first, including where she's going, and who she'll be with, and how much she will spend."

He stood, getting himself a glass. "She also doesn't necessarily have a job of her own." He poured water into his glass before turning to her, watching her carefully as he took a sip. "I have the ability to track her, usually through a GPS watch, and while she has a life of her own, I have the mandate to limit it in any capacity I see fit, including excluding specific people from her social life." He stopped then, breathing in and out once, steady and controlled as he waited for her reaction. He knew it was the kind of thing that, for a lot of people, even to some in the community, would be considered out there. He was sure some would even call it abusive, no matter how consensual.

"Always," was the somewhat stoic response to her question then. Then he paused for a moment, thinking back, and then took another sip of his water. "I was twenty when I first found my way into the world of BDSM," his tone was a little thoughtful even as he spoke. "Twenty-three when I committed myself to my first submissive."

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on day one million (three) of being sick and I’m so bored. plots or messages or things please :)