#man we love consent check ins !!!!

[ast4tarion]

mike / m!reader plsssss

i nned 2 b called pretty boy by mike pls 😭😭

on it boss! o7 i had a lot of fun w this one i usually try and keep the reader gender neutral for inclusivity but this was new and fun to write. I’m very much weak for sensitive men and consent check ins so i slipped both of those things in there <3 Mike was definitely walkin a lil funny after this one

[requests open]

cws; sub!mike, soft dom!reader, m!reader, petnames, light bondage, edging, frottage, dick worship, messy, praise

Mike had no idea how he’d ended up in this position. He wanted to make this special and about you, the two of you had been unable to have sex anytime recently because of schedule conflicts and he knew that you’d been very pent up; that pretty little cock of yours deserved some attention.

He’d tried to get you on your back and to relax, but you had other plans.

Which is why Mike was currently sat in a comfy cushioned chair next to the bed, his hands tied behind his back and his member at the mercy of your hands.

The worst part of the position for him was the fact that your dick was on full display as you sat on the edge of the bed right next to him. All he wanted to do was break free of his restraints and worship it, get you painfully hard and throbbing like he was in your hands.

Speaking of your hands, one was on his thigh and the other was on his cock. It was a loose fist, a feather-light touch that barely stroked him but was enough to get him whining and begging you to give him more.

Your fingertips more then anything slowly travelled up his length, tickling every vein and driving him crazy. With his hands behind his back he couldn’t thrust his hips in fear of loosing your fingers so he was forced to sit still and take what agonizingly slow friction you provided him.

The head was smeared in drippy precum and to say his cock was weeping was an understatement.

It was throbbing, harder and stiffer then he’d ever felt with his cockhead wet and flushed bright red from how badly it wanted to cum. It had been a full half an hour, painfully filled with your fist loosely and slowly dragging up, pumping faster and faster until cock twitched harder and he was moaning louder and louder and then you’d abruptly stop; the orgasm he’d been chasing gone.

He babbled incoherently, begging and doing his best to rut up into your hand.

“B-Baby, please, f-fuck….I need to….hnnng….I need to cum.”

His hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, his entire face flushed red and his eyes hazily focused on you. “Do you now?”

You gave his dick a light squeeze, making him twitch. “How bad?”

He was on the brink of tears, his words coming out with a stutter every time you slowly dragged a single finger up and down.

“Mmmf…I-f-fuck, baby, my pretty boy, please, I n-need your hands, your mouth, your b-body please.”

You thought about it for a moment, rubbing his thighs. “You have been doing so well for me, how about a little reward?”

All he could make were desperate little noises of affirmation, groaning and nodding. You stood up from your place on the edge of the bed and scooted into his lap, your thighs on either side of his.

Your cocks touched which made him jump, he was staring down at your member with desperation and need.

You got comfortable, using his hips as a grabbing point to pull yourself as close as possible to his bare chest. You kept one hand gripping his waist, and one came up between the two of you to align your dicks and you grasped your fist around both of them, barely being able to wrap it around both.

You gave a little experimental thrust, your cock sliding wetly against his lubricated with his own leaked slick. You gave a couple more before Mike mumbled “yellow” your safeword to slow down and check in.

You stopped, cupping his face and looking up at him. “Whats up, love? Are the ropes too tight?”

He looked sheepish, avoiding your eye contact. “I think you should go get a towel, I, um, get things messy sometimes.”

Mike was a heavy cummer and had always been embarrassed about it, jumping to offer to clean up the mess he’d made on you or the bed. You found it incredibly attractive, loving to see just how much you could make his cock spurt from just your mouth or hands.

You caught his eyes, wiping some of his hair away from his forehead. “Good thing for you baby, I love messy.”

With that you squeezed your hand around both your members and started thrusting fast, bouncing in his lap and jerking his dick off with yours. The reaction was sharp and immediate, a loud gasp being ripped from his mouth at the fast pace.

Pleasure pooled in your own gut, thinking of getting to thrust this fast into his needy hole. He began thrusting up with you, rocking the chair you guys were in.

It was wet and slippery and quick, but it finally drove him over the edge.

He threw his head back, gasping with his mouth wide open. His cock twitched violently against yours, before thick white ropes of his seed erupted and shot up into the air. It kept coming, multiple gushes of hot sticky thick cum coating you and him and both your dicks until your lap was painted white.

You didn’t cum, but that was alright. This was mikes reward, and you reveled in the way he closer his eyes and let out a long sigh, all of his own pent up energy finally having seeped out.

You immediately reached behind him and quickly loosened the ropes so his hands were free, coming up and kissing the red marks were they were.

With his hands free he embraced you, pulling you into a tender kiss and finally getting to touch you.

“Oh you did so well baby, lasted so long, I’m so proud of you,” You mumbled to him, your laps a slippery sticky mess. “You ready for a shower?”

He smiled, his eyes slowly focusing back in from the haze of pleasure he was previously in. He looked down at your lap, his cock was softening but you’re was still fully erect and untouched except for the little bit of groping the two of you did earlier.

Mikes large hands travelled down your back, grabbing your ass and pulling you so that your own hard length was flushed against his stomach and your hole was spread. “Actually, how about we do something about that?”

You kissed him once more, it was going to be a long night.

[howbrightthemoon]

as we expected, EPISODE 5 WAS BRILLIANT

we're REALLLLYYY kicking off things in part 2 huh

SPOILERS BELOW proceed with caution

The intimate scene: we get a love scene not even half way through the episode and it is....SO beautiful, and I genuinely stopped breathing and couldn't stop thinking about it for the rest of the episode

there's lots of giggles throughout the whole scene because it's Pen's first time, there's check ins, double checks on consent...but Pen isn't totally clueless, she WANTS to touch him but just doesn't know how...and the way he guides her....and the way he makes her feel comfortable first with the ol carriage fingers before asking if she's ready AGHEHREWKENKFJNEWHR

and the way they slowly reveal their bodies to each other....my god it is just incredibly sensual and romantic, he really takes his time undressing her and savoring her, while he really takes his time letting her see all of him (and I mean ALL. OF. HIM.).

they start off slow...but again Penelope is like LETS FUCKING GO and she's giving him the 'fuck me' eyes and he's legit losing himself and honestly, they're both REALLLLYYY getting into it, BOTH. Not only is there the focus on Pen's pleasure, but Colin's too. I think because it's important to show the difference in his sexual encounters at the brothel versus with someone he loves. LN was seriously giving his all in this scene, I was not expecting to see an O face but yeah, he did thaattt

Whistledown mentions: Nicola does an amazing job at portraying the sheer anxiety she feels over this massive secret she's hiding. Now she's part of the Bridgerton family, she has to see Eloise more often and just SEEING Eloise makes her panic. Not even with the 'you have to tell him before midnight' thing, but every time they're in the same room, Pen just loses it. The way she shows how her anxiety builds and BUILDS throughout this episode is so scarily accurate, I really felt for her, poor girl was just trying to enjoy her fiancees engagement speech and Eloise just had to butt in and start ruining the whole night for her.

Cressida's motivations: girl, I get it. I'm sorry she's reverting back to her old cunning ways, but...man no one in that drawing room was listening to her...she had to say something. Can you imagine being in her position? i'd lie that I was whistledown too lol, girl, I get it. It's ELOISE that I'm honestly fed up with in this episode.

ANTHONY BRIDGERTON: Last thing, I wanna shoutout Jonathan's acting in this episode. The way I am so convinced that Anthony is absolutely overjoyed at the fact that he's going to become a father soon, and he plays that joy into every single scene he's in. I could see so much of that playful competitive big brother vibe from season 2 (especially in the charades scene, which reminded me of pall mall s2) from him in this episode, I loved it.

anyways rant over, I am seated for the release of all four episodes later today and you best believe I'm binge watching it

p.s. I just wanna say....Nicola was not kidding when she said she was going to show everything on camera....girl, you are absolutely gorgeous

[lazaruspiss]

hiii <3 @redhoodinternaldialectical tagged me weee

the word of the day is ENOCH (yes i did have to look it up) so time to crank out the wip vault in search of potential Bangers!!

E: Every moment of his life has felt like a plea for redemption, a cry to ask if he can somehow leave the world a bit better than how he found it. The weight of failure is crushing him. Everyday he keeps going is just another opportunity for him to lead someone else to their death. Everyone he loves who isn’t already gone is doomed by his very presence.

N: Normally Dick would punctuate that with a playful smack on the arm, but if he is sick, then maybe he should hold off on the physical affection for tonight.

O: One of the other’s interrupts. “I don’t think we can keep him. Who knows what the Bat would-” “Would you shut the hell up? Fuck, have you never heard of dirty talk, jackass?”

C: "Consent and check-ins are a lesson for another time, so leave that part to me for now. Just focus on getting used the feeling of using the paddle." Adeline assures her.

H: He isn’t sure what it is. What this void he keeps coming back to in his dreams is. The one where Dick chastises him, tells him he’s just a little boy who never knows how to behave.

my GOD was it hard to find smth for E. like what the hell man. feel free to ask follow up questions lmao. im gonna try and work on ch3 of my recent fic some tonight. god i need a nickname for that. mfer im not typing a 7 word title everytime. Project Inbred ig lol, thats what it is in my files!!

[gurugirl]

I feel like professor h and student yn would be a lot into painal, he would have the previous consent of fucking her in the ass without warning or preparation and she would have to take it like a good girl, imagine all the mind play he would do to her too the first time they did anal ugh i love manipulative man in bed im a terrible feminist lol

I could intro their first anal experience (since we know they've already done anal based on previous check-ins) and something later where he does something like you suggest. Thank you for the idea!

xoxo

[loveislarryislove]

2022 Writing Reflection

1. Number of stories posted to AO3: 18 (holy shit???)

2. Word count posted for the year: 107,382 (double holy shit?????)

3. Fandoms I wrote for: One Direction, Critical Role, Tamora Pierce, The Old Guard, Percy Jackson

4. Pairings: Larry, BeauJester, Immortal Husbands, Shiall, Solangelo

5. Story with the most…

Kudos: I Can Build Your Heart A Home

Bookmarks: I Can Build Your Heart A Home

Comments: Hash Brown, Egg Yolk, I Will Always Love You

Hits: Your Skin On Mine (I'm Losing Control)

6. Work I’m most proud of (and why): 

So I have two fics I want to shout out for this. First is Do You Think The Tides Know, which is a super personal concept to me and one I’ve been wanting to explore for a while. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever written before, and I’m not sure if I’ve ever read anything quite like it -- where from the beginning it’s clear that the main character won’t get the guy, where the endgame pairing doesn’t involve our POV character, where no matter what we’re rooting for we know it involves heartbreak. It’s complicated and it’s messy and it’s imperfect and it’s painful and I think that’s important, you know? That’s real. That’s life. And that’s okay. 

I’m also really proud of my Reverse Bang fic, they say looks can kill (and i might try), which just posted this week. I’ve always been intimidated by worldbuilding, but the art and prompt from @haztobegood were just... so vivid and interesting and exciting, and I could feel the world begging to be explored. I was initially afraid I wouldn’t be able to do it justice and realize the ideas the way I wanted, but I’m so glad I did it anyways. I don’t think I did a perfect job, there are still gaps that I’m aware of as the person who created them, but I also think that overall I did a damn good job! Go me!  

7. Work I’m least proud of (and why): 

I’m also going to mention two here. First is my Emelan fic for Troped: Chapters -- I had some fun with the concepts but I just wasn’t feeling the romance that was the center of the prompts, and I wasn’t sure how to make everything play out effectively. Second is my Camp Half-Blood AU for Astrofest -- I had a much bigger, grander, more complex idea mapped out based on all the different positive and negative meanings of the card, but I just bit off more than I could chew in terms of time and energy, so the fic I wrote instead was a much simpler spur-of-the-moment idea. It’s a fine story, I don’t dislike it, but it wasn’t what I’d wanted to write initially. Still, I’m glad it nudged me to start exploring that ‘verse -- I wrote a PJO fic a month or two later and I’d like to write more! I might also revisit the more complex idea someday, I still think that it would be a super cool story! 

8. Share or describe a favorite review you received: 

I received a ton of wonderful comments and tags, but I think some of my favourites were the appreciation for the check ins and conversations around kink in fics like it's always me that ends up getting wet. We love boundaries and consent!!! Having that level of trust with your partner is what most interests me about kink, so it felt really validating and rewarding to see that reflected and appreciated. 

9. A time when writing was really, really hard: 

Looking at my writing tracker, I only wrote like... 800 words in March, so I guess numerically you could say that was hard, since I didn’t do it. 

In the other direction, in August and September I published TEN fics (totaling about 46k words), so that was. a lot of writing. why did I do this. I’m so proud but also kind of concerned. 

10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

Is it too unspecific to say “all of the smut”? Like wow, usually I don’t really write smut, but this year I was apparently VERY INSPIRED. And I kept writing such huge word counts in one go, wow. 

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

Oh man, it’s always hard to pick just one piece (especially without it getting ridiculously long), but let’s go with this snippet from Do You Think The Tides Know, as Zayn says goodbye to Louis at the end of the summer:

Zayn pulls Louis into a tight hug, trying to memorize the feeling of his body, the sound of his heartbeat, the smell of his hair.

“Don’t be a stranger, yeah?” he says, trying to keep the catch in his throat from showing in his voice. “I know we don’t usually talk that much outside the summer, but… you have my number, if you ever, like, have questions or just… if you ever need anything. Call me.”

Louis chuckles. “I know,” he says. “You’ve always got my back. Thanks, man. You’re a great friend.”

Zayn squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, then forces them back open. “Good,” he says, stepping back. “And… good luck.”

A bright smile dawns across Louis’ face. Zayn wishes it was for him, wishes he could make Louis look like that. But failing that, he hopes that the person who does make Louis smile like that – he hopes he never stops.

12. How did you grow as a writer this year:

This is kind of unspecific, but I think just... being more willing to try things that are unfamiliar and step outside of my usual comfort zone. That willingness feels like growth, and doing that creates growth. 

13. How do you hope to grow next year:

Part of me wants to say writing self-motivated fics, stories I tell just because I want to and without outside boxes I have to fit into or people holding me accountable. But maybe the real growth would be acknowledging that those outside influences and motivations are valid, and if they work for me, that’s not such a bad thing. 

14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): 

gotta be @alwaysxlarrie. I can always count on lauren to hype me up or help me brainstorm or get my creative gears turning or tell me if a sentence or moodboard looks weird or celebrate my accomplishments. and I love returning the favor! mutual brain furbies for life -- you the best! 

15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: 

The “weird holiday traditions” in The Streetlights Are All Saying Your Name are both real traditions that my family had when I was growing up

I work in a pet store, and so for All Ewe Need Is Lamb, I used information and products and even photos from my work 

As I mentioned before, Do You Think The Tides Know is based on a really personal experience -- it’s not like 100% true to life, but the idea of dating someone while in love with someone else, and knowing that the relationship had an end date, but celebrating the happiness and fun and learning in the meantime -- that was real to me, and super meaningful. So grateful for everyone else who has connected to the fic as well!

And this is kind of the inverse and a slightly more spicy one, so look away if you don’t want to know, but. Writing for the @1dwatersportsficfest ultimately led to me telling my fiancée that I was into that. So. I guess that’s my writing showing up in my real life!

16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: 

If you’re afraid of doing something because it feels out of your comfort zone or what you’re used to doing -- that’s where the growth is. Find people who encourage you to do it anyways, who make you feel excited to go there, who celebrate your achievements. It’s so much less scary with friends, and you’ll probably surprise yourself with how much you’re capable of.  

17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: 

With the publication of my fic for the 1D Reverse Bang this week, I am officially finished all my current projects! Which isn’t to say I don’t have forgotten half-finished projects, but I don’t have anything I’m actively working on at the moment. It’s exciting and terrifying at the same time. What will I daydream about on the bus now???

I’m feeling called back to my Soft Established Relationship Vax’ilmore Fluff Series, so might write a couple of those next (then again, I said I’d do that last year, and that lasted about 8 days so. we’ll see). I’m also eyeing up some of the fests for this coming year (I need external motivation, it’s a problem) and @1dtourdeficfest @faithinthefutureficfest @1dastroficfest are all on my list of contenders.

18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read:

I’m not sure who all has already done this so apologies if I’m tagging someone who has already done it (or already been tagged a billion times), but: @alwaysxlarrie @haztobegood @zanniscaramouche @andfollowthesun @larry-hiatus @panye @littleroverlouis @beckydoesthings @finelinegynandromorph @paranormalbabydoll @thebreadvansstuff

[shadowofchwe]

blind | joshua hong

No one has ever looked so good in black lace before...

🖤 Pairing: boyfriend!joshua (darling!joshua) x reader

🖤 Word Count: 2.4k

🖤 Rating: 18+

🖤 Genre: Smut, mainly pwp, some fluff, elements of bdsm, established relationship

🖤 Warnings: Explicit language, loooots of teasing, explicit sexual content, groping, brief handjob, we love consent and check ins, bdsm elements including use of a blindfold, sub!joshua, dom!reader, making out, hair pulling, grinding, marking/biting/scratching, oral (m receiving), deep throating, dirty talk, praise, cum eating, unprotected sex (be safe pls), riding, rough sex, dom!joshua (surprise 🤩), sub!reader, some degradation, multiple orgasms, it ends soft 🥹

A/N: So all the fansign pics of Shua wearing the black lacy blindfold really had me going through it and then this idea was born 🫠 This is technically darling Joshua, but it also can definitely be read as a stand alone drabble too! I hope you enjoy if you take the time to read it, and thank you as always to everyone for all your love and support you've shown me and my writing 😭💙

Masterlist

"I changed my mind."

You chuckled at the very prominent and adorable pout on your boyfriend's features, shaking your head, "What do you mean you changed your mind?"

He stared back at you from his spot on the bed, arms and legs crossed, bare except for his boxers and the dainty daisy pendant around his neck.

"Look, when I agreed to us trying something like this...you never once told me that you would be wearing something like that."

Joshua's eyes darkened as they raked over your figure standing in the doorway, taking in the brand new lingerie set you had picked out just for this occasion.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" you queried back, continuing to play dumb and making your boyfriend grow more fidgety in the process.

"You're joking right? Everything! You are being so unfair right now." he groaned, a hand coming up to thread through his long dark locks in frustration, "Coming in here looking that sexy, and still expecting me to wear a blindfold. I know there's no way you're that cruel, darling."

"So dramatic, darling." you teased back as you made your way over to the bed.

Joshua leaned back on his palms, suddenly taking notice of the black lacy piece of fabric that was dangling from your hand.

"I guess you'll just have to commit it to memory now then." you went on, one of your knees coming up to plant itself next to your boyfriend.

He swallowed as his eyes traveled up your body once more, "Playing a little dirty, don't you think?"

"Not any dirtier than you." you countered, eyes lighting up in challenge.

"Careful, darling, don't let this temporary power go to your head." your boyfriend warned, his voice low.

You grinned back at him smugly, relishing in the momentary confusion that danced across his handsome face.

"Don't worry about my head, baby. I know exactly where my power is going..." you trailed off as you slowly ran a fingertip down Joshua's chest, stopping just above his boxers.

He sucked in a breath as your hand dipped below the waist band to wrap around his quickly hardening cock.

"You're secretly loving me bossing you around for once, just admit it. You get off on being told what to do. Don't you, Joshy?" you taunted him, and you felt him twitch in your hand as your grip tightened slightly.

A growl started to rumble in your boyfriend's throat.

"Let's, fuck, get one thing straight here, darling. This is the first and last time I will ever let you get away with calling me that." he practically snarled out.

You started stroking him then, and Joshua's fists clenched around the sheets.

"Aw, play nice now, Joshy."

You were having way too much fun with this, nearly drunk off the power at this point. The way the man before you stared daggers back at you had you feeling like you would pay for this royally later. But that was later. Right now, you were ready and determined to get your usually very dominant boyfriend to submit to you.

But before any of that, "Shua?"

Your hand stopped its movements immediately and moved to rest against his bare stomach instead. The tension charged trance broke within seconds.

"What is it, darling?" Joshua inquired as his hand moved to cover your own, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

All the intensity in his gaze had disappeared, replaced instead by slight concern at the switch up.

"I only want to do this if you want to. And only if you're okay with it. And if at any point you're not, then you need to tell me, okay?"

He crossed the space between you to press his lips against yours as his other hand came up to cradle your cheek.

"I want this." he said softly, and you smiled against his mouth.

"And you trust me, right?"

"With everything I have." he whispered back, and your heart soared, "You're just gonna have to give me a little time to adjust."

He chuckled nervously and you kissed him in reassurance.

"I love you."

"I love you too, darling." Joshua echoed, voice laced with affection, and a noticeable shine in his big, beautiful, brown eyes.

You held up the lacey blindfold between the two of you and gave your boyfriend a knowing look, "You ready for this, baby?"

Excitement sparked behind his irises, and butterflies stirred in your stomach.

"Give it your best shot, darling."

That was all you needed to hear to fall back into your dominant role, a wicked smirk taking over your face as you moved to sit behind him. Joshua tensed slightly as you raised the fabric to settle it in front of his face. Your lips moved over his bare shoulder, and you felt his body start to relax again.

“You wanna know a secret, Shua?” you asked, voice soft as you situated the lace over his eyes.

“What’s that?” he questioned back, and his breathing hitched when you tugged on the blindfold to tie it behind his head.

The knot immediately disappeared into his black tresses, and your heart hammered anxiously in your chest.

“This isn’t the only new set I bought.” you answered seductively before grazing your teeth against his ear.

Your boyfriend audibly groaned, and a rush of satisfaction flowed through you. It was quickly replaced by being overwhelmingly turned on as you stepped back from the bed to take in the sight in front of you. You were mesmerized by how unbelievably sexy Joshua looked. The delicate black lace matched perfectly with his hair. He licked his lips out of habit, and your eyes followed the movement of his tongue. That sinful tongue…

You watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, every part of you singing with nervous excitement.

“Fuck, Joshua.” you breathed out, “You look stunning like this, baby.”

You were surprised to see his face flush at your compliment, his rare shyness always so endearing to you.

"So pretty for me, Shua." you said sweetly as you approached the bed again, reaching out to cup his cheek.

You ran your thumb over his bottom lip, and Joshua's hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

"Fuck. You have to let me touch you, please." he voiced, a delicious hint of neediness in his tone.

In one swift movement you swung yourself up onto the bed to straddle his lap, Joshua letting out a grunt as you did so. You didn't even give him a moment to breathe before you were kissing him furiously, your hands immediately tugging and twisting at his midnight strands.

You felt his large hands greedily grabbing at your barely covered ass. Even blindfolded he still knew your body too well. But you knew his too, and right now you had the advantage. Which meant you knew how to get him fully hard just from some heavy making out.

You hungrily devoured his mouth, teeth nipping at his lips, and eliciting the most beautiful sounds from your boyfriend. A mix of pants and moans that had you quickly growing wet yourself. Joshua's fingers dug into the flesh of your ass as he tried to encourage you to grind against him.

Your hips moved slowly over his crotch, the friction not nearly enough for either one of you to get off. Joshua thrusted up suddenly, and you pulled off his mouth with a surprised gasp.

"Naughty boy." you scolded him, cursing yourself for how breathless you sounded.

Your boyfriend's hands smoothed over your hips, "Wanna fuck you. Need to feel you, darling. Please. You're already so wet for me. Want you to ride my cock."

The offer was so tempting you wanted to scream. But-

"Sorry, baby. That's not how this works." you started as you reluctantly got off his lap and sat back on your haunches, "I'm still in charge here, and I want you to lay back for me "

Joshua huffed in indignation, but did what he was asked all the same. You smiled to yourself before leaning over him and letting your lips travel over the bare skin of his chest. Your teeth scraped against his collarbones, and a soft gasp escaped your boyfriend's mouth.

You trailed your way all the way down to his stomach, kissing and biting as you went. Joshua squirmed underneath you, and his hands grasped frantically at the sheets.

"Stop teasing. Shit." he groaned, and you nipped harshly at his hip in response.

"So needy, Shua. Have a little patience, baby."

Your mouth hovered over the top of his boxers, and you pulled the fabric down slightly. Joshua's dick twitched in response as your warm breath hit him. Instead of putting your mouth on him, though, you opted for running a line up his body with your tongue instead.

"Fucking hell," he hissed, "you're killing me."

"Always with the dramatics." you teased before slipping your fingers inside his waistband to tug his boxers all the way down.

You wasted no time before licking a stripe along the underside of his cock. Joshua growled, hands immediately making a grab for your hair to try to push you down on him, but you resisted.

"I'd think twice about that, baby. I will bite your dick." you warned, and you immediately felt his grip loosen.

"God…please. This is fucking torture." your boyfriend whined impatiently.

You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his tip, Joshua's nails scraping against your scalp. You wrapped your mouth around him and started to slowly sink down. He sighed out as you took him in deeper and deeper, his hands literally shaking in your hair as he fought the urge to take control.

You looked up at his face and moaned around his cock. The lace was still covering his eyes and his pretty lips were parted as he panted out.

Your desire to make him come was starting to outweigh your desire to play with him. You started bobbing your head up and down his length, and a string of curses sounded from above you. His hands furiously pulled at your hair, and it just spurred you on to go faster and take him deeper down your throat.

"Fuck, darling. Just like that. Your mouth always feels so perfect." Joshua praised, and you swallowed around him.

"I'm getting close. Are you gonna let me cum in your mouth? Have I been your good boy?"

His words had fresh arousal sliding down your thighs, but you would have to wait. All you wanted right now was to make your beautiful and incredible boyfriend fall apart.

You pulled off his cock with a pop and caught Joshua off guard with a searing kiss, making him taste himself on your tongue.

"Been so good for me, Shua. Want you to cum down my throat, baby." you rasped out before quickly returning to sucking him off with renewed fervor.

A broken moan slipped out as his hips bucked up against your mouth. You choked around him, and his cock twitched before releasing down your throat. You made sure to swallow it all down before taking a moment to try and catch your breath.

Joshua's chest heaved up and down as he came down from his high. But you weren't done with him yet. There was a hunger roaring inside of you and you needed to satiate your appetite. You didn't even warn your boyfriend before pulling your underwear to the side and sinking all the way down on him in one go.

"Fuck!" he cried out, and a moan escaped you at how well he always filled you.

You braced your hands on his chest and immediately started to bounce on his cock. Joshua's fingers clutched at your hips hard enough to leave a mark, "Can I take this fucking thing off now?"

"No… not yet." you panted out as you took him between your walls again and again.

"Yeah, no. Fuck that, sorry." Joshua snarled out, and you barely had time to react before he was pulling the blindfold from his eyes and maneuvering the two of you so that you were once again sitting upright in his lap.

His strong hands gripped your bra and he tore the fabric like it was paper, exposing your chest to him and making you scream in surprise. You felt his warm mouth on your nipple a moment later, and your head fell back at the sensation.

"Fuck, Shua." you moaned as each thrust from him knocked the air out of you.

He pulled your bud between his teeth and you whimpered, fingers finding their way back into his hair. Joshua speared you harshly on his cock as he sucked spots of color across your chest and neck.

You started to shake in his hold, knowing your orgasm was near. All that teasing had really worked him up.

He grunted in exertion from how rough he was fucking you, and all you could do was breathlessly whisper his name as you bounced in his lap.

"What's wrong, darling? Nothing else to say now that your good boy is fucking you stupid? That little taste of power didn't stop you from being cock dumb, now did it?" Joshua taunted you, and his words mixed with the foul smirk on his face had you clenching hard around him.

"Joshua…please. I…can't."

"Yeah? You wanna be a good girl and soak my cock?"

"Yes, fuck! I'm your good girl, Shua. Please!" you pleaded, your tremors growing more intense as your insides wound tighter and tighter.

If you weren't so desperate to come, you might've even been able to admire how smoothly he had taken control again. Not to mention how easily you had let yourself submit to him again.

"Come for me now. Wanna feel you, darling." he urged, and your orgasm was washing over you a moment later.

Joshua continued pounding into you, his own thrusts beginning to stutter slightly.

"I'll admit…that was a fun…little experiment. But nothing is better…than when you're my good girl, darling."

You smiled dazedly at him, and Joshua kissed you sweetly. You felt his cock twitch inside you, and then he was filling you up, chasing your mouth lazily as he painted your walls white.

You both sat there for several moments, just holding onto each other and trying to catch your breath.

"So," you said finally, "are you gonna let me boss you around more often, Joshy?"

Your boyfriend laughed softly, "Okay seriously, last time I'm letting you get away with that. But dominance was actually really sexy on you, so I won't rule out the possibility."

You beamed back at him proudly.

"You were a pretty sexy little sub yourself."

"Oh yeah, I was owning that shit." Joshua agreed, flashing you a cheeky wink, and earning a series of giggles from you.

"And hey, thanks for trusting me." you added quietly.

Joshua placed a kiss against your temple, "Always, darling."

[sitp-recs]

i am unashamedly asking everyone for fics where draco is Very Hot and Harry is Very Distracted. thx ❤️

It’s what we all deserve 🙌 here are some of my favorites:

At wand point by tenthousandyears (2022, E, 2.8k)

Harry should not be so turned on by being held at wand point by Draco Malfoy... yet here he is.

Like This and Like This (Dreams of Lace) by @primavera-cerezos (2020, E, 6.6k)

Harry gets an accidental peek. He can’t think of anything else.

Play Dates by @bixgirl1 (2017, E, 7.7k)

Harry never thought seeing Malfoy as a dad would affect him this way.

check this hand 'cause I'm marvelous by @lqtraintracks (2014, E, 8k)

Harry's had a crush on Malfoy for months now. But it will take a bar full of his friends, some Firewhisky, wagers made on his behalf, and Malfoy himself to get him to act on it.

Born Slippy by @dracoladon (2020, E, 8k)

Harry finds that it's less 'one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor' and more 'one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, decide Malfoy's quite fit, actually, and decent company after your friends traitorous abandonment, floor.' With Malfoy lying next to you.

Ten Thousand Reasons Why Not by @lqtraintracks (2018, E, 8.4K)

Harry and Draco are stand-ins for the usual witch who gives the workplace harassment and sexual consent talk to the Auror trainees. Or, a little tale in which Harry consents to be sexually harassed by Draco Malfoy.

Playing Dirty by @sweet-s0rr0w (2021, E, 8.5k)

As punishment for screwing up yet another mission, and with their magic going haywire, new partners Potter and Malfoy are sent to clean the Auror locker room, the Muggle way. Will they make it out alive? Does Malfoy ever work out how to use a sponge? Do they actually even hate each other, or is it all just misconstrued sexual tension? How long until they accidentally end up naked?

Sex Ed for Aurors by curiouslyfic (2010, M, 8.7k) - lust potion

Some things, you need to learn on the job.

Sex on Legs in Six-Inch Heels by @tessacrowley (2017, E, 9.6k)

Draco Malfoy is a brilliant freelance cursebreaker and the only one who can help the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with a very dangerous case, but more importantly, he's wearing six-inch heels, and Harry cannot handle it, he really just can't.

Sleight of Hand by @the-starryknight (2021, E, 15k)

It’s another one of those horrid Ministry affairs, and the only interesting thing is twinkling from Draco Malfoy’s finger. Can you really blame Harry for being fascinated by the gorgeous emerald ring and those long, elegant hands, especially when he’s certain Malfoy is up to something?

An Act of Kindness for One Harry Potter by a Sympathetic Draco Malfoy by 0idontknow0 (2014, E, 15k)

As Draco leaned on the wall to wait for them to get dressed, he could not help feeling like he had done a very kind thing by disrupting them. Someone should give Potter a better rogering than that sorry sod had. The man had saved the bloody world—okay, mostly Europe—the least someone could do was give him a proper shag.

A Truth Universally Acknowledged by @sorrybutblog (2021, M, 17k)

A year out from the war, Harry agrees to accompany Hermione on a historical walking tour of Pride and Prejudice. Not in the itinerary: running into Draco Malfoy, setting off a summer of stately homes, lavish parties, resentful shagging, and maybe, falling in love.

Take These Lies by @pennygalleon (2021, E, 20k)

There’s a portrait of his godfather in Draco Malfoy’s potions shop and Harry needs to know why. But that’s not why he keeps coming back.

I Bet That You Look Good on the Dancefloor by birdsofshore (2015, E, 28k)

Harry felt lit up from inside as soon as he entered the bar. There were blokes dancing together, their bodies close to one another, not keeping a wary distance as Harry was always careful to do when he was near another man. God, he wanted this – wanted it so much he could taste it, a metallic tang of heat and desire. He suspected nothing would ever be the same again – especially when he saw who else was in the room.

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (2019, E, 93k)

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography.

Far From The Tree by aideomai (2020, E, 112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fully Completely 1

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), attempted violence, mutual irritation.

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: I did not plan to get the first part done so soon. I will probably be setting time aside as I write this to also work on some original stuff. When it comes to that, I’d love if y’all might let me know what you think would be a better medium to release it? Kindle, Patreon, etc. I’m really not sure but if it was Patreon it would like be two series running at once with a chapter of each a month + Q&A and maybe some bonus materials? I am a noob at this shit and it wouldn’t be for a while yet.

Anyways, I’m rambling...

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: She simply slammed the door

💀💀💀

The garage smelled like oil and snow. The cold air seeped under the closed metal door as you sat on the low stool and affixed the new headlight to the propped up Harley. It was only the start of an impractical rebuild; your brother wanted everything metal replaced with chrome. You thought it was obnoxious but the parts were paid for and you could never complain for money.

You were funded exclusively by the town’s club, your garage not far from The Asp where the members hung out and revved the engines you found yourself looking at more often than you liked. You were good at what you did though and privileged for it. You had the protection of the club without having to devote yourself truly to its bounds.

You checked the wiring and rolled away from the bike to change the station as the radio crackled. The snow kept setting the speaker to static and the noise was driving you mad. You flipped the switch to play the cassette stuck in the drawer, the old stereo beaten up and filthy. Springsteen’s gristled tones filled the shop and you wheeled back to your brother’s ride.

With the storm would no doubt come more work. Your fingerless gloves itched more than they kept you warm. Your fingertips were numb as you touched the frigid metal and the sweat of your palms made the fabric uncomfortable. You were used to it, rather tolerant as your task kept you distracted.

You were interrupted as you bent to look under the tank and get a good look at the exhaust and the rest of the beast’s entrails. You had the new pieces still wrapped and didn’t intend to do it all at once. Jerome could wait for his tacky redesign.

A loud banging came at the metal door and you glanced over in irritation. Anyone in Birch knew to come in the painted door to the left and not hit the large one. You huffed and stood with a groan, your hips sore from the low stool. 

You fixed the front of your fleece-lined denim jacket and pulled the tail of your plaid shirt from inside your jean pocket. You’d been hunched over so long you were all wrinkled. You went past the large door and into the small entryway off the left of the garage and opened it with a tinkle of the rusty old bell above.

You stuck your head out into the gales as the snow continued to fall and squinted at the man in his thin jacket. He stood beside the long luxury car as another man with wild orange hair remained in the driver’s seat and blew into his hands. They were out of place in the small town and you could tell by the way the man scowled at the door that he knew it.

“Hey,” you called to them, “there’s a place down the street. I don’t do walk-ins.”

“Oh, hello, Miss…” he let his voice trail off as he neared and you stared at him rather than provide your name. His accent, his attire, the curl of his lip, it was clear what he thought of you and the bodunk town, “actually I was referred by an acquaintance. One, James Barnes.”

“Bucky?” you furrowed your brow.

“Mm, yes, that one,” he said, “my car will need detailing. We had some difficulties on the motorway.”

“Right,” you tried not to scowl, “well, if he sent you, I guess I can help.”

You left him and the door clattered behind you. He followed a few steps after as you went to the switch and pushed it to raise the wide door of the garage. You waved in the driver of the car and he carefully pulled in beside your brother’s bike. 

He got out and you were surprised by his size, he was taller even then his companion and wider; neither could be described as short. You lowered the door as the thinner man walked along the shelves and the long table along the other side of the garage. The bigger man stood by the car and tucked his hands in his pockets.

“Not much better in here than out there,” the dark-haired man turned back to you, “you have heat in here?”

“You need a better coat,” you said as you rounded the back of the car, “and some boots.”

You glanced pointedly at his leather shoes and bent to reach under the table. You pulled out the space heater and plugged it in as you set on the wood. You cranked it up and smiled at him tritely.

“So, what’s the damage?” you asked as you looked to the other man.

“Headlight, maybe,” he said in a peculiar accent, “some scratches. We had a bit off a run-in.”

You neared and bent to examine the front of the car. You sighed as you tilted your head and clicked your tongue. It was easy enough to beat out the dents and buff out the scratches with a quick refinish. The headlight would need to be replaced and you knew they didn’t carry anything for that model in town. No one there was pretentious enough to drive it.

“If you want the headlight done before you leave town, it’ll take some time to get the replacement,” you warned.

“Oh, and how do you know I’m leaving?” he taunted coyly.

“Well, I know you’re definitely not sticking around,” you scoffed.

“Why wouldn’t I? A quaint place like this, I’m sure there is so much to explore,” he said dryly.

You had no delusions of what Birch was but it wasn’t the part of outsiders to deride the dead end. You stood straight and put your hands on your hips.

“You can go back to your castle, my lord, but you will have to wait out the storm,” you sneered. “Two days for the scratches. If you want to take it back after that and wait for the headlight to arrive, that’s fine with me.”

“Two days for the scratches? Surely you could do it before the morning,” the black-haired man insisted.

“I could but I have other work to do,” you replied, “so you can be patient and take your turn in line after all the hicks who live here.”

You went back to the table and grabbed your phone from where you tossed it earlier. You unlocked it and searched the model of his car and scrolled through the parts list. 

“You’re Bucky’s guest so I’ll send the bill to him?” you asked, “though you do look to be able to afford it yourself.”

“You can invoice him directly,” he assured, “so you’re one of them?”

“One of them?” you repeated as you focused on checking out. The damn internet kept cutting in and out.

“My brother, those men in this town, I never knew a woman--”

“I’m not a biker. My brother is in the club,” you assured him, “so that big blond dope, he’s your brother?”

“Regrettably, yes,” he slithered, “Loki Odinson,” he introduced himself as he rubbed together his hands, the leather gloves doing little to protect his fingers, “my driver is Korg, and you’ve yet to tell me with whom I am trusting my property.”

“Again, there is a shop down the street. Prices aren’t bad,” you finished up your purchase and tucked your phone in your jacket pocket.

He met your eyes as you turned to him and he looked down his nose. You kept on and brushed past him as you went back around the car and sat by your brother’s bike.

“Sorry about the boss,” the other man, Korg, intoned, “he can be a bit--”

“Don’t apologise for me,” Loki snipped, “I needn’t atone to her.”

You rolled your eyes and wheeled around the side of the bike, “if that’s everything, you two can head back out. I’ll let you know when the car’s ready.”

“We might wait for the snow to calm,” Loki suggested.

“I close in an hour, you’re not staying here all night,” you sniffed.

“Trust me, I have no special desire to spend more time with you than necessary,” he retorted, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman so volatile as you, dear, and I’ve only just met you. I never expected you people to have very many manners but perhaps what I did presume was too much.”

You bared your teeth but kept at your work. You would worry about kicking him out when you finished the wiring.

“To be fair, had you not spoken first, I might’ve assumed you were a man,” he added.

You paused and glanced down at the open tool box. You weren’t unused to the comments, you weren’t girly in any way but it wasn’t like you were trying to be a man. You wore what was comfortable and in your work, practicality prevailed over aesthetic. Yet, your years of ridicule as a kid made you less tolerant of the comments and those had stopped long ago because you made sure they did.

“Oh, darling, have I upset you?”

“Don’t call me that,” you said as you reached into the toolbox.

“Well, you’ve not given your name and I’d hate call you what I truly think of you--”

The wrench flew from your hand as you stood and spun to him. It barely missed his head and bounced off the wall and plunked onto the table beside the heater. His eyes rounded and the other man looked at him. There was a thick silence as you glared at him.

“If you weren’t a friend of Bucky’s, I wouldn’t’ve missed,” you hissed, “now I will kindly, before I reach for a bigger wrench, ask you to leave.”

He pushed his shoulders back and tilted his head as his lips thinned dangerously. He swallowed and beckoned the other man with two fingers. His cheek twitched as if he would grin and he nodded subtly.

“Well, darling, how amusing you are. These brutes must adore you,” he snarled, “the exterior does indeed say it all.”

You bent and reached for another tool blindly. He blinked and quickly dodged as you flung the next wrench and he followed his henchman to the entryway. Your temper was a match for many men. It kept you safe.

“Barnes did not say his mechanic was a madwoman,” Loki called back as the bell rang.

“What, are you going to tattle on me?” You stormed towards the doorway, “you precious little princess?”

“Princess?” he met you in the doorway as Korg behind him held the door open and the snow blustered in, “I know Barnes will do me no other favours, but do you think he’ll do you any?”

“Get out,” you spat and shoved him, “I don’t need men to take care of me and I have no problem in proving that.”

He bit the inside of his lip in a crooked smirk and winked before he turned away and strutted out into the snow, shielding his face from the wild winds. Korg trailed behind him and the door sprang back into the frame. You crossed your arms and glared at the peeling paint. 

You were tempted to tow his car out and let it weather the storm but you were smarter than that. If he was doing business with Bucky, you would be a fool to get in the way of it. 

💀

The snow dwindled to a lazy dusting, the ground thick and treacherous. That day, you started early and around noon, you headed across the street to the diner for your usual lunch of a club sandwich and black coffee. You didn’t have to order as all the waitresses knew what to expect. You weren’t unfriendly but your association made many standoffish.

You tapped on the lip of your mug with your thumb, fingers hooked through the handle. The sleepy town felt dead in the winter. You were used to the dullness of Birch but tolerance was hardly happiness. It was home, where you’d grown up and you had no certain desire to get out, but you wouldn’t mind a little more than what was expected.

You yawned and gulped down the last of your coffee. It was bitter and left a few grounds on your tongue. You leaned back and grabbed the monthly newsletter from between the salt and pepper shakers. You read through the fun facts which weren’t very fun or even new. They were copy and pasted out Guinness and Reader’s Digest.

You looked up as you sensed someone approach your table but it wasn’t the waitress. The man from the day before slid coolly onto the seat across from you at the booth and smirked over the table. You raised the newsletter again and folded it backwards to read about the weekly knitting circle down at the rec center that was also the library.

“Good afternoon to you too,” Loki said, “it must be fortune I ran into you, I was hoping to inquire after my car--”

“I told you, two days,” you said tersely as you continued onto your horoscope …‘a new force will bring change’... You hated this tripe. You swore, every month they just switched the blurbs under each sign and hit print.

“So be it,” he cleared his throat and you lowered the paper as he shrugged out of his jacket.

“What are you doing? I eat my lunch alone,” you said.

“Well, to be frank, I was pointed here on the promise of some famous cabbage soup,” he explained as he folded his jacket over the seat next to him, “you looked like you needed company.”

“I don’t,” you assured him.

Kimmie came over and set down your sandwich. She greeted Loki and you saw the way she eyed his tailored suit. He stuck out in the town of flannels and denim.

“Hello, sir, can I get you something to drink?” she asked.

“Tea, English breakfast,” he ordered smoothly.

“Oh, sorry, we only have um, um, sorry, peppermint, earl grey, ginger lemon, and green,” she listed off as she tried to remember them all.

“Earl grey,” he sighed, “and a menu.”

“No, no menu,” you insisted, “and you can take his tea to another table.”

“And when we’re through, I’ll take the cheque,” he ignored you and snickered under his breath.

“Kimmie, can I get a to go box?” you asked as you shimmied off the seat and snatched up your coat, “I have to get back to work.” You took out your wallet and counted out the usual amount plus a tip, “thanks.”

“Of course,” she smiled awkwardly and glanced between you and Loki.

She scooped your sandwich back up and scurried away with it. You felt him watching you as you walked away and went to stand by the till as you watched Nora flit into the kitchen. She packed up your food and returned with the box. You took it and headed for the door, ignoring the arrogant out-of-towner on your way.

“Wait,” Kimmie called out your name and you turned back as she held up your keys, “you dropped these.”

You met her halfway and took them from her with a mutter. Again, he was watching you… or still watching you. She spun and promised she’d have his tea shortly.

“Hmm,” he hummed and you head to the door again, “interesting, I never would have put the name to the face.”

You pushed out into the snow and gritted your teeth. You thought of getting the work on his car out of the way quickly so he would leave you alone but your spite made you want to put it off entirely. Whatever. He’d be gone soon enough.

[supernatural-jackles]

Owe You One - Part 5

Title: Owe You One - Something Old and New

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 4,371

Warnings: Minor Angst, Workplace Drama, Light Smut, Dry Humping, Fluff, Implied strained relationship.

Summary: Dean Winchester has been your best friend and neighbour for the last year. A year of finding comfort in random drop ins and casual conversations, but neither of you know the pasts that the other has. Not fully. Pasts that come back to haunt you, and ruin everything you want in life. Can you find what you’re seeking in a couple of favours and a good time between the sheets or is history doomed to repeat itself?

Owe You One - Masterlist

Square Filled: Mechanic AU ( @spnfluffbingo)  Friends With Benefits ( @spndeanbingo ) Clothed Sex ( @spnkinkbingo)

A/N: Happy Tuesday! Here is part 5! I hope y’all enjoy this part! Please leave your thoughts in a reblog, reply or send me an ask! The reason I share is to get a response from you! Happy Reading! 

You let out the biggest yawn as you typed away on your work computer. It was just after one on a Tuesday afternoon, and you were more than ready for Friday to be here. You weren’t sure if you could handle another three days of the same boring work. You needed to find something new, instead of this fashion magazine crap. There was no way you were going to work her for the rest of your life.

 You finished up your last paragraph, saving the file before exiting. Charlie walked past your desk, giving you a wink before she entered the conference room right next to your desk. You were having an afternoon meeting in there to discuss how things were going, along with a bit of a late lunch. Since your floor was all women, getting off topic was a given. It was basically a gossip session in a professional setting.

 You put your computer on sleep mode, getting up from your chair. You decided to bring your sweater into the room, in case you got cold later on. Charlie had picked her usual seat at the end of the table so she could look at the boss directly. You always took the seat next to her, since she was one of your only friends in this place.

 As soon as you took your seat, the rest of the ladies piled into the room, taking their respective seats. Ruby took her seat next to you, and Meg beside her. Across the table, Bela and Lilith sat down. Your project leader Abaddon, walked in last with a platter of sandwiches from the diner down the road.

 “Ladies,” she greeted you as she placed the platter down on the table. “Welcome!”

 “I hope you got vegetarian,” Meg side-eyed her.

 “Of course I did,” Abaddon stated. “Let’s get the boring part of this meeting over-”

 “Please!” Charlie interrupted.

 “As I was saying. Asmodeus gave me the rundown in this morning's meeting about how things are going on our end. Right now, sales have improved by three percent, which isn’t terrible but it’s not what he is expecting out of us. Considering we cater towards women, he thinks we should be doing better. The guys on the floor below us are doing slightly better on their fishing magazine, let’s put it that way.”

 “Who the fuck wants to read a fishing magazine?” Lilith pointed out.

 “Exactly,” Abaddon replied. “Anyway, if we keep at the rate we’re going, odds are we are going to improve. We just need a couple of good hits and maybe a celebrity cameo cover story to sell and we should be on top. With Charlie on website duty, that reels in a whole other audience and we need to keep that up. I’m going to have Y/N do more articles to keep readers coming back. Ruby, I’m thinking of sending you out in the real world to grab some more perspective since you know how to talk to people. Lilith and Meg, you guys will continue working on graphics.”

 “What about Bela?” Charlie asked.

 “Well I'm actually leaving the company next week. I’m going back to England for a few months,” she smiled sadly. “I’ve got something to do back there.”

 “We’ll be sad to see you go,” Abaddon told her.

 “Yeah,” Ruby frowned.

 “Alright, I’ve given you the just of what you needed to know,” she said, taking a seat on the chair before grabbing a sandwich. “Gossip is now in session! Who is first?”

 “I started seeing this girl a few weeks ago,” Charlie started. “I met her in one of my weekends larping. She became one of the queen’s handmaidens in Moondoor and we just clicked instantly. I mean, I have never just clicked with someone like I have with her. She’s hot and not to mention, one of the best kisser’s like ever!”

 “I’m happy for you,” you smiled at her.

 “I’ll have to bring her around sometime. She’s amazing. I think y’all would really like her,” she beamed.

 “Look at her, she’s getting all blushy,” Abaddon teased her.

 “Shut up,” she scoffed. “I’m not!”

 “You are,” Ruby let out a laugh.

 “Someone else share,” Charlie stated.

 “Cas and I are talking about adopting a dog,” Meg shared. “Our schedules finally match up to the point where one of us would always be there. Our relationship is in a really good place and I think this would be as good a time as ever.”

 “For a second there, I thought you were going to say you’re adopting a child,” Ruby smirked.

 “No. Not yet,” she shook her head.

 “And to think, a year ago you thought Cas didn’t feel the same about you. Now look at you guys,” Lilth reminded everyone. “It’s only a matter of time before you guys get married!”

 “That’s still a long way off. But Cas is my best friend. I love him with all my heart,” she smiled.

 “Lilith and I are having a get together at our house next week,” Ruby spoke up. “You guys can all come and bring whoever you want. It’s been too long since we had one and getting all of us together is so hard.”

 “That’s true,” Charlie said. “I’ll bring my girlfriend.”

 “I’m in,” Abaddon smiled. “Count Crowley in too.”

 “How are you and Crowley, by the way?” Charlie asked.

 “We’re good for the most part. You know us. We still argue like an old married couple. Last night we argued over who was cuddling with Juliet. He likes to hold her and I like to have her head in my lap while we watch tv. There was no settling it last night. You know what he’s like,” she shrugged.

 “Do you think he’s going to propose soon? You guys have been dating for what-”

 “Eight years,” she finished. “I don’t know. Maybe? Maybe not. I’m not expecting him to. I’m happy as long as I’m with him. Even though all we do is argue, there is no one I’d rather be with than him.”

 “That’s what matters,” Meg smiled.

 “What about you, Y/N? Any guy in your life?” Abaddon asked you. She was staring directly at you. You didn’t want to say no, because it was a lie. But at the same time, you didn’t want to say yes because what you and Dean did in the bedroom was between the two of you. It wasn’t anyone else’s business.

 “Nope,” you stated.

 “Oh really? What’s with the hickey on your neck?” she smirked. Everyone turned to face you in sync. Your hand instantly reached up, covering the spot you knew she was talking about. You felt your cheeks turn warm. So much for keeping it quiet. Dean’s fucking lips. “You’ve been caught. Spill now!”

 “I’m not dating anyone,” you shrugged, trying to make it seem like it was nothing.

 “But you have a hickey?” Ruby furrowed her brows. “What, just a hook up?”

 “Something like that,” you breathed out.

 “Or is a friends with benefits kind of thing?” Meg cocked her eyebrow. “‘Cause there is nothing wrong with that.”

 “Sorta,” you answered vaguely.

 “What do you mean there is nothing wrong with friends with benefits?” Bela scoffed. “It’s only going to get complicated for one. Two, what is the point to it?”

 “Have you never just had sex with someone?” Meg argued. “There is nothing wrong with two consenting adults having sex.”

 “That is true,” Charlie nodded. “So what if you are. Is he a nice guy at least?”

 “Yes, he is,” you told them. “Look, I’m not ready for what all you guys have. You are all dating someone, or married or getting married. I don’t want that. I like sex and this guy just happens to be awesome at that. He doesn’t want to date. I don’t want to date. This is better than hooking up with random strangers on a constant basis to get what I want. At least with this guy, there is trust.”

 “With trust comes love,” Charlie teased you. “Why don’t you want something more?”

 “Yeah really?” Abaddon added in. “Out of everyone in this room, you are the only one who has never had a significant other.”

 “I just don’t want one. I’m perfectly happy on my own and I don’t need to have a man to make me feel like I’m getting somewhere,” you shrugged.

 “You never know though, Y/N. You might find this guy is worth it in the end,” Abaddon winked. You could hear the judgement in her voice. It was very clear that she thought the friends with benefits thing was stupid. She had been with the same guy for eight years and all she did was fight with him. What did she know about relationships? Better yet, what did she know about you and your life?

 You needed out of this workplace as soon as possible. You didn’t want to continue to be included in the bi-weekly gossip session. You were fucking tired of being judged by them. Even Charlie, who was supposed to be your friend. Granted, she wasn’t as judgy as Abaddon, the queen of drama. But why couldn’t you be happy with just having sex with someone you trusted. With someone who knew how to get the job done and made you feel good?

 You couldn’t have been happier when the meeting was over and you finally got to head out for the night. You needed away from these women and the drama that they exhaled. You made your way back to your desk to gather your things. You checked your phone to make sure you didn’t miss anything from Sam especially.

 *Hey, you wanna stop by the auto shop when you’re done work. Wanna show you something* - Dean

 You smiled for the first time all day. Finally, some normalcy. Someone who wasn’t immersed in drama. You couldn’t have been happier that he was your best friend after a day like today. You grabbed your sweater, pulling it on before throwing your bag over your shoulder. You swiped your card on the way out of the building, making a beeline for the bus.

 You were thankful that Dean’s work wasn’t too far from your own. It was a few blocks away and thankfully, the bus stop you were getting off at wasn’t too far away from his shop. You sent him a quick okay, you were on your way message to let him know you saw it. You had never been inside his workplace before. Not his day job anyways. You were kind of excited to see what he looked like as a mechanic.

 You got up from your seat, heading over to the back doors of the bus to get off. You could see Winchester’s Auto Shop from where you were. It wasn’t too far. About three buildings away from the bus stop. You just hoped that John wasn’t going to be there. Not if you were going to go in. You definitely weren’t up for another fight with one of the Winchester’s.

 The front door of the auto shop was mostly window with Winchester Auto Shop painted on it in red and black window paint. You pulled it open, hearing the ding of the bell shortly after. There was carpet set down, leading to the front desk where a blonde woman sat. You took a deep breath, finally taking a step forward.

 “Hi there hun, what can I do for you?” she greeted you with a smile. You looked down, reading the name Ellen on the metal bar sitting on her desk.

 “Hi,” you smiled at her. “I’m here to see Dean.”

 “Ah yes! You must be Y/N,” she beamed. “Go right on in, sweetie. His office is at the back on your right. Just be careful. They are still working back there.”

 “They?” you dared to ask.

 “Dean and Bobby,” she told you.

 “Thank you,” you said with a soft smile before heading into the garage. It was a big space filled with a lot of different cars and tools. It smelled exactly like a garage. All the oil and metal you expected. You heard someone working on a car to the left of you. By the sounds of it, it sounded like a tire change. Nothing too extensive like you were somewhat expecting. You looked to the right, finding Dean’s office in the corner like Ellen said.

 You could see Dean from the doorway. He was sitting at his desk, writing something in a black notebook. He was clad in a pair of jeans and a snug grey t-shirt that was covered in grease spots. He was solely focused on what he was doing.

 “Hi,” you greeted him, giving him a warm smile. “You wanted to see me, Mr Winchester?”

 “Hey sweetheart,” he grinned. “Yeah, I did. I have a bit of a surprise for you.”

 “A surprise? Dean-”

 “Just, follow me before you protest, okay?” he stated. He got up from his chair, motioning for you to follow him. He lead you both to the back door of the garage, allowing you to step out first before he joined you. You saw a bunch of tires stacked up, and rims to go with them close by. A couple of scrap cars and a two door truck sitting close by.

 “What are we doing out here?” you asked.

 He walked over to the truck, leaning against the bed of it before resting his elbow on it. “I know you’re stuck taking the bus because you can’t afford car payments right now. I mentioned something to Bobby a few months ago and he came across this in his salvage yard. It’s a little beat up and it needs a bit of repair work. I figured I could fix it up and you could have it.”

 “Dean, I can’t accept this,” you breathed out.

 “Yes you can,” he nodded. “It’s going to cost me nothing to fix it up. I can even teach you a thing or two about it,” he smirked. “It’ll save you on bus money and this way you’ve at least got a vehicle to get you from point a to point b.”

 “Thank you for this, Dean. Bobby too,” you beamed.

 “What about me?” a gruff voice said from behind you.

 “Y/N, this is Bobby Singer. Bobby, this is my friend Y/N,” Dean introduced the two of you.

 “It’s nice to meet you, Bobby. Thank you for the truck. I really appreciate it,” you smiled at the older man.

 “It’s no problem. It was just sitting in the yard, taking up space. Dean mentioned that a friend of his needed a vehicle. Better use this way. It was mine for the longest time,” he told you, looking at you a little strangely. You swallowed hard, hoping you weren’t about to get another warning from yet another person in Dean’s life. “I have to say, you look a lot like your mother.”

 “Y- you knew my mother?” you cocked your head, swallowing hard. God, did everyone know your mother?

 “A long, long time ago. Way back when she was a kid on my street,” he revealed.

 “Interesting,” you nodded. “Seems like a lot of people knew her.”

 “She was a popular gal,” he chuckled. “I’m heading out now, Dean. Gonna take Ellen home. See you tomorrow.”

 “See ya, Bobby,” Dean waved him off. You heard the door shut behind you a few seconds later, leaving you and Dean alone once more.

 “You look kinda cute covered in grease,” you commented.

 “It’s a dirty job,” he side-eyed you. “Little miss casual Tuesday.”

 “I had a meeting earlier,” you told him.

 “You mean a gossip session with those girls who don’t know how to do anything else?” he chuckled.

 “Yeah, that,” you breathed out. “I guess I kind of owe you one for the truck.”

 “No you don’t,” he stated. “Not for this, Y/N. You need this truck instead of taking the sketchy ass bus. Now you can take up parking spot twenty six. Right next to Baby.”

 “Dork,” you shook your head with a smile.

 “Well, you could always give me a bit of a thank you in my office,” he wiggled his eyebrows as he made his way over to you.

 “You replace the condom in your wallet?” you asked him.

 “Fuck,” he frowned. You gave him a smile, taking his hand before dragging him back inside the auto shop. There was no sign of Bobby or Ellen anywhere as you walked straight into Dean’s office. Space was a little limited, but you could make do with what you had.

 You shut the door tightly behind the two of you before pushing him down on his office chair. You couldn’t have been more thankful that he didn’t have arm rests like your chair at work did. He was a little confused at what you were doing, and truth be told, you had no idea what you were doing. You just wanted to make him feel good.

 You threw your leg over his lap, settling down on top of him. His hands wrapped around you, resting on the small of your back. His eyes were a little darker than they normally were. You leaned forward, slipping your arms around his shoulders.

 “I’d take you right now if I had a freakin’ condom,” he muttered as he leaned in, his lips inches away from yours.

 “Doesn’t rule out all of our options,” you whispered as you wiggled your eyebrows.

 “No, but we don’t got a whole lotta space in here,” he reminded you as his fingers traced the top of your pants. “My office is kind of small.”

 “Then we’ll make do,” you winked. An idea slipped through your mind. You didn’t necessarily have to have sex right here, right now. There were so many different ways to have fun. One of your personal favourites from way back when was something you hadn’t done in a while.

 You balanced yourself on his broad shoulders, finally closing the space between you, capturing his lips with yours. They were soft and wet, and god, when he kissed you back. His kisses were intoxicating and that’s what kept you coming back. You rolled your hips against his. Holy - did it feel good. You couldn’t have been more thankful for wearing yoga pants to work. You could feel everything so much better.

 “Mhh, what are you doing?” he almost chuckled, breathing out against you. His voice was laced with that same lust that was evident on his face.

 “Saying thank you,” you growled. You gripped your fingers into his shoulders, grinding your hips slower on his lap. You could feel him hardening in his jeans, and that made you smile. It made you feel confident about yourself. That same comfortably that you had the first time you were on top fell over you once more. “You okay with that?”

 “More than okay with that,” he nodded, pecking your lips sweetly. His hands slipped down to your ass, squeezing you with just the right amount of pressure, helping you grind on him with ease. The friction of your center pressed against his bulge had you going. You could feel your slick coating your panties, making them incredibly uncomfortable. His tongue parted your lips, gliding along yours in a smooth motion, tasting you.

 Your hands made their way into his hair, feeling the softness as your fingertips grazed over his scalp. He was as hard as a rock in his jeans. God, you felt like a fucking teenager again. Making out with a guy, trying to get as close to having sex as you possibly could. Only this time, you weren’t worried about someone walking in on you. It felt so euphoric to be this close to him, but still be so far.

 “Fucking hell,” he panted, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, causing you to let out a whimper. His eyes fluttered shut as he bucked his hips into yours, pulling you on him. So thankful for wearing yoga pants, you thought to yourself.

 His chest was heaving, just like yours. His lips were parted, the tip of his tongue peaking passed his lips as he breathed heavily. It felt so damn amazing to feel him the way you were. The pressure against you clothed pussy brought you closer and closer with each movement.

 “God, Y/N, feels so good,” he groaned. His eyes peered open, meeting yours as he adjusted his grip on your ass, curling his fingers into your flesh. One long movement on his crotch dragged perfectly along your clit, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure as you let out a loud moan.

 “Dean!”

 His lips crashed to yours once more, his tongue sliding against yours, deepening the kiss instantly. You wrapped your arms securely around his neck, your chest pressing against his. The kiss didn’t last longer than a few seconds, the need for air becoming too much too quickly. You could taste the saltiness on his lips, a thin layer of sweat covered both of your bodies, the clothing making it that much worse.

 “F-fuck sweetheart,” he grunted before letting out a whimpering sigh. You knew he was getting close. He was making the same face as he was the last time before he came. He was panting, trying his hardest to get his breathing under control. He was fucking sexy before he came.

 “De - I’m gonna-” you warned him.

 “Come for me, sweetheart,” he urged you on. “Wanna see you come undone again.”

 Your legs began to quake on either side of his as pleasure soared through you. You let out a moan. Your fingers digging into the muscle in his shoulder, trying to ground yourself as you came. Dean’s hands gripped around your body as he bucked his hips up to yours.

 His eyes slammed shut as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down just hard enough for you to see he was holding back a moan. “Son of a bitch,” he breathed out.

 You continued to ride his lap, letting him get as much pleasure as he possibly could from it. You were over sensitive, and your panties were ruined. But you felt so satisfied. You felt even better knowing that you made Dean feel good.

 He smiled at you with his half swollen, cocky grin that had you smiling along with him. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours. His nose nudged against yours before his lips pressed softly to yours.

 “Fuck sweetheart,” he breathed out. “I can’t believe you just made me come in my pants like a fucking teenager.”

 “You’re welcome,” you giggled.

 “Good thing I have a change of clothes,” he chuckled. “I gotta say, you look hot as hell when you come undone.”

 “Thank god I wore thin pants today,” you let out a laugh. “I haven’t done that since I was sixteen.”

 “I’ve never actually done that before,” he admitted.

 “Never?” you cocked your head to the side.

 “No,” he shrugged. You carefully climbed off of his lap, feeling incredibly uncomfortable in your lower region now that your panties were ruined. “I never did the whole make out sessions for hours on end when I was growing up. I’ve worked here since I was fifteen.”

 “Well, I’m glad I was your first,” you smirked.

 “Alright, how about I clean and close up shop. I’ll drive you home so you can get cleaned up and we can go out some place tonight and grab a bite to eat?” he suggested.

 “Go out?” you furrowed your brows.

 “Burgers, fries and pie. We can hang out some place afterwards,” he said nonchalantly. You were all for eating and hanging out, but you didn’t want to run the risk of his parents seeing you together. You didn’t want to endure more drama than you already had today.

 “I’m all for burgers and hanging out, but I don’t want to run the risk of your parents seeing us together, Dean. Why don’t we pick something up on the way home and hang out in my apartment. We can play video games or something?”

 “Okay,” he nodded. “But just so you know, you don’t have to hide out in fear of them seeing us together. I don’t care what they think. I told them straight up that I wasn’t going to stop talking to you, or being friends with you. ‘Sides, I’m thirty. What are they doing to do? Ground me?”

 “No, but they could stop talking to you or something. I don’t want that to happen on account of me,” you frowned, crossing your arms over your chest. “Your mom told me I wasn’t good enough for your family. I’m not going to come between you and them. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I was the reason why you didn’t have a relationship with them.”

 “My mom is a bitch,” he stated, getting up from his chair. He reached beneath his desk where he had a bag. He pulled out a pair of jeans, clean boxers and a shirt. He reached for his belt, making quick work of removing both his pants and boxers. You almost felt bad for looking at him, even though he was stripping down right in front of you. “Trust me, Y/N. You won’t be the one to come between us. It will be them that destroys everything.”

 “Sounds like you’ve got some issues with them,” you said lowly.

 “Let’s just say you’re not the only one that had a rocky relationship with their mom,” he said, pulling on the clean, blue boxers.

 “I’m sorry,” you frowned.

 “It’s not your fault, sweetheart,” he said softly. “We’ve all got our issues. Just remember that you could never destroy my relationship with anyone. I’m a big boy and I can make my own decisions.”

 “Noted,” you nodded. “I’m thinking we get burgers and pie from Jody’s.”

 “Done deal,” he agreed. “I’m down to play a few rounds of Mario Kart too.”

 “Sounds like a good night,” you smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 6 coming Sunday!

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Any theories? Please share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Nothing is stupid! I WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU! Your response is the ONLY thing keeping me sharing this story!

Dean Babes

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[wtffundiefamilies]

From reddit user bubblegum1286.  What might have been for Josh.

I interned for a year as a counseling grad student for an SOTP (sex offender treatment prevention) program. Here's the help Josh should have received years ago...

The program I worked with had men from ages 16 up to old old men. It was a court-mandated program that was required as part of their probation or parole (depending on their sentencing). The crimes ranged from possession of child pornography to aggravated sexual assault and torture with a deadly weapon. Some guys had never served any actual time in jail, while one man had just been released after 45 years in prison. So we had a hodgepodge you could say.

The program in my local city is/was run by a PhD psychologist and a licensed marriage and family therapist who also happened to be a former sheriff's deputy who worked for twenty years in law enforcement. These guys didn't take bullshit. They were amazingly professional and working with them was an excellent experience for me. Only two graduate students were selected each year to intern in this program, and I considered myself very honored to get to work with them. It was eye-opening to say the least.

The primary aspects of the program have been explained by other snarky mental health professionals (I love that you guys came out of the woodworks to add to this). Accountability is huge.

We did six hours of group therapy sessions every single week. Every week, their POs would come by to make sure they were attending in person. Arrest warrants were issued for missing even one session. This was a very important aspect of the program.

Our sessions always involved open accountability in which we would revisit the nature of the crimes involved. We swept nothing under the rug. They went around the room every single week and stated why they were in attendance with this particular group of people. This isn't intended to shame them, but rather to keep their crimes at the forefront of their thoughts so they stay more closely connected with the nature of their crimes. Distancing oneself from the nature and weight of your own sins or compartmentalizing "that aspect of your life" causes you to feel like "I'd never do that again! That's in the past. That's so long ago, I don't even remember."

The victims will never forget.

So each session would go around the circle like this: "I'm Josh. I served three months in county and a year of probation for touching my underage sisters in their private places." The doctor would then say, "Please only use correct anatomical terms." And J would then say, "I touched my sister over her clothes on her vagina and under her clothes on her breast."

They would go around the room saying this. The new ones struggled very badly saying what they did or using correct terminology for body parts, but the guys who had been in the program for years would rattle this off like ordering from McD's.

We focused on all kinds of things in therapy- triggers, temptations, personal struggles that might weaken their resolve to never offend again, etc. For example, the loss of a job could send an offender into a mental tailspin where they start thinking about offending again. So those things were addressed and worked through.

Triggers were a huge topic of discussion. We used a method of cognitive behavioral therapy where the men would recognize their own thought patterns and stop themselves before they even began walking down that mental path. If there were certain smells associated with their sexual fantasies or certain songs on the radio or locations, whatever, we would work with the men to take these thoughts and triggers captive and be fully aware of them. If someone shared that they had a fantasy (sexual or violent in nature) about a woman at the grocery store, it was noted and reported to their PO. But then in the actual group session, it was dissected entirely. Not "what was she wearing." No. More of like, "What triggered your weakness? Were you taking care of yourself and your own thoughts? Have you been seeking out pornography lately?" That sort of thing.

Now, I didn't participate in the one on one sessions. The men were regularly given psychosexual polygraph tests if there was any concern that they were potentially re-offending. (I understand there's plenty of debate about the validity of polygraphs, but this is a fairly standard practice at finding out if someone has been reoffending in a counseling type setting like this one).

They also went through a kind of test called the penile plethysmograph where an offender would actually have a device put around his penis and he would be shown images and the device would read what aroused him. I, as a female intern student, never participated in these tests, but I was told all about them by the doctors at the facility. I had a lot of questions regarding how these men were held accountable outside of the group therapy sessions and PO check ins. From my understanding, this tool was used primarily on the child sex offenders, not the cases of adult sexual assault, but I could be mistaken. It's been a few years.

The program made a huge emphasis on accountability outside of the group. We kept in close contact with these men's families, bosses, and other people who would serve as accountability partners throughout the re-entrance to society process. We made a big emphasis on service. "Your brother allowed for you to move in with him after your release. What have you done for him this week?" I had one guy who got out of prison after a very long stint, moved in with his brother (who's home was approved since it was not near a school, playground, community center, or church), and he struggled to find a job. No one would hire a felon, much less a registered sex offender. So he spent that entire summer renovating his brother's garage. He built shelving, organized junk, built cabinets, etc. I could tell it was healing for him to give back to his brother for giving him this second chance. (He was one of the good ones who I walked away truly believing wouldn't offend again. It's been six years and so far he hasn't). We also checked in with these family members, friends, and employers so they were a big part of the process.

We frequently talked about improper or inappropriate or disrespectful kinds of attention. In other words, we were trying to teach these men to stop being creepy or stop being predatorial towards others.

We offered sex education in a healthy, rehabilitative way. We talked a lot about consent. We talked about how you can violate a person with your eyes even if you aren't touching them or talking to them.

These guys also have no internet, no computers, no smart phones, etc. That was also monitored.

This program was the end of the line. You don't come, you go to jail. You don't participate, you go to jail. These men had all been convicted, so this wasn't an alternative program to time served. I understand this may be more than Josh would have endured were he turned in appropriately, but I think he still would have endured a similar rehabilitation program.

I know people might jump on me because Josh was still a minor at the time of his crimes, and I realize that some of these methods wouldn't be utilized on a minor. However, my point is this: If he had been properly reported, the courts, counselors, doctors, etc. would have moved heaven and earth to try and rehabilitate him and to protect those girls.

I understand, as a parent, that the idea of your child doing something so unspeakable is stomach-churning. I can't even fathom how horrifying it was for Meesh to hear that he was touching the girls. However, I do not believe that all hope is lost for all sexual criminals - to a certain point. I worry that Josh is past the point of no return. To hear the descriptions of the porn he was viewing is sickening.

Unfortunately, we won't ever know what could have become of him if he had been dealt with sooner.

[dropsofmoonlightzine]

I'm so excited for this project, it's an awesome idea!! 😍 I'm considering to join but there is something I'd like to ask first, regarding the sign-up form (I never took part in a zine before so forgive me if this is commonly known): so, I know mods will see my info of course, and I got that the poll questions about me will be used anonymously, but will my email be shared with the other contributors too for example? Or, is my twitter/tumblr/site going to be included in the zine? I really have no idea how data are used in these cases and it makes me a bit anxious, sorry. Thank you in advance for your reply and your patience!

Hi anon! Thank you for your questions! Because it's so important, allow me to elaborate: First up, no, your email address will neither be shared among contributors at all nor will it be at any point. We only need your email address to send you the confirmation as well as further info, and, if you don't have a discord account, to communicate with you about progress check-ins and submissions and further updates about the zine production. Your information is accessible to the mods of this zine (but not any further helpers), while only 4 of us (Kakyuu, Nari, Brownsugarheartattack and me (floraone)) view the poll results directly. I will later be in charge of compiling the data for an article about our poll results (which will be completely and fully anonymous).  

Regarding your twitter/tumblr/site: nothing you don't want to be shared in the zine will be shared in the zine. We want to give artists especially the opportunity to communicate their own shop info, because we hope this project might bring them a little traffic. However, if you don't want to be found online, this is not at all mandatory.  Nothing will be going out about you without your consent. We will ask you to write a tiny "fan bio" about yourself, but this is fully your choice on how vague you want to write that. What's important: At no point will we share information about you that can be tracked to your person/pen name that you didn't consent to sharing.

But the registration form doesn't only contain questions about where you can contact you. We also ask you for personal information, such as your gender identity, your age and nationality, and your sexual orientation.  These, if you don't want to disclose them, you can absolutely leave blank. But let me assure you that your data will not be misused or in any way disrespected. In part because of Naoko Takeuchi's beautiful legacy, our fandom is a really diverse space, and we want to fully honor, value, and appreciate that in the zine, all colors of the rainbow. And we can answer a few questions with your help: Do LGBT people like Haruka more or do we all love her equally? Are people's ships different relative to their age? Do the Japanese like Seiya and Chibiusa more than people from western countries? As the Sailor Moon fandom setting out to collectively take on a project so big and so phenomenal, who are we contributors in regards to age, gender, sexual identity? (Spoiler: Collectively, we are not an old white man.) And what do we, as a group, love about this show so much? It'll make for a smashing article, one that will talk of means and averages (but of nobody individually,) written by someone who works in sex research and treats the topic with a whole lot of love, appreciation, and respect. I promise! (Though again, if you don't want to tell us these things, leave them blank! They are NOT mandatory!)

Q: プロジェクト楽しみです！すごくいいアイディアですね！参加を検討していますが、最初にいくつか聞きたいことがあります(これまでZINEに参加したことがないので常識だったら許して欲しいのですが)： 参加登録フォームの入力内容について、主催側は当然内容を読むでしょうし、集計は匿名でされることも理解しましたが、例えば私のメールアドレスは他の投稿者にも共有されますか？私のTwitter/tumblr/個人サイトはZINEに掲載されますか？こういったケースで個人情報がどのように使用されるか分からないので少々不安です。お返事お待ちしています。

A: こんにちは！ご質問ありがとうございます。すごく大事な質問なので、少々長くなりますが詳しく説明させてください。

まずはじめに連絡先メールアドレスについて： あなたのメールアドレスが参加者間で共有されることはありません。教えていただいたメールアドレスは参加登録完了メールとその他案内を主催からお送りするため、またDiscordアカウントを持たない場合に進捗確認や投稿関連のやり取り、ZINE制作に関する情報をお伝えするためのみに使用されます。あなたに関する情報はZINE主催（※ヘルパーは含まない）であれば知ることができますが、入力内容を直接見ることができるのは４人（Kakyuuu、なり、BrownSugarHeartAttack、これを書いている私＝FloraOne）だけです。また、入力内容の集計と結果に関する記事執筆も引き続き私FloraOneが担当します。これらはすべて完全に匿名で行われ、ハンドルネーム/スクリーンネームが掲載されることはけしてありません。

Twitter/tumblr/個人サイトについて： あなたが共有されたくないと思う情報がZINEに掲載されることはありません。参加者の個人ショップや通販情報を載せることで微力ながら正規の取引を支援できればと考えていますが、必須ではないので載せたくない場合は載せることはありません。 参加者の皆さんの同意なしに皆さんに関する情報が公表されることはありません。また今後皆さんには簡単な自己紹介(Fan Bio)執筆をお願いしますが、どれくらい具体的なことを書くかは完全に参加者の皆さんの自由です。あなたに関する情報で個人を特定できるような情報（ペンネーム、活動拠点など）をあなたの同意なしに外部と共有することはありません。

参加登録フォームでは、連絡先だけでなく、あなた個人に関する情報ー年齢や国籍、性的指向なども質問します。これらを開示したくない場合は勿論、未記入でかまいません。ただ、入力内容が悪用されることはけしてありません。武内直子先生の残した作品と世界観のおかげで、私たちのファンコミュニティは非常に多様性のある空間となっています。本ZINEはその多様性をおおいに尊重し、認め合う場にしたいと考えています。また皆さんの力を借りることでいくつかの疑問にも答えが出るかもしれません。たとえば： はるかは非常に人気のあるキャラクターですが、皆が同じようにはるかを好き？それともLGBT当事者により人気が高い？ ファンのお気に入りのカップリングは年齢で何か傾向がある？ 星野ファンやちびうさファンは欧米より日本に多い？など 国内外のセーラームーンファンコミュニティが一丸となってこれだけ大規模のプロジェクトを立ち上げようとしているわけですが、全体としての私たちの年齢、性別、性的指向はどうなっているのでしょう？ そして何より、私たちはこの番組のどこをそんなに愛しているのでしょう？

個人ではなくこうしたファン全体の傾向や平均値に関する、これまでにない記事になると思います。日ごろ性の研究に従事している人間が愛と敬意を込めてトピックを扱い、また執筆することをお約束します。 (とはいえ、もし話したくない場合は空欄のままにしておいてください！これは必須では一切ありません！)

[avelera]

If it's not to late, I'd love to see your take on the soft prompt “You haven’t laughed in a long time, and I guess I was staring ‘cause I forgot how that looked like.”

To the shock of absolutely no one, this got longer than I expected. I hope you enjoy! 

Edit: I actually posted this on the wrong prompt, mea culpa! 

You can find the full series that goes with this fic here.

Ship: Newt/Hermann

Fandom: Pacific Rim (post-Uprising)

Words: 3,150

—

Stay

The final days of the infection were brutal. The Precursors had lost their hold over Newt bit by bit as the time stretched since his last Drift with the hive mind, but that only seemed to make them more desperate.

At times, Hermann truly feared they’d shake Newton apart, or simply kill him out of spite as they struggled and clawed after their waining control. No one dared let Newt out of his cell even as his lucid moments stretched, in case they chose that moment to come roaring back. The effort of will to force them back down again often left Newton trembling and bathed in sweat.

It had been three months since his last incident when the PPDC dared to let him out of the quarantine to walk under his own power to the medical bay for the final scans. The first scans upon his capture had shown a storm of activity in his cerebrum, it was a wonder Newt hadn’t had a stroke from the level of chaos of two consciousnesses fighting for control of his body. Hermann’s knuckles were white from gripping his cane as he waited for the results, watching the doctors as they consulted the images while Newt sat in the locked holding room, looking down at his folded hands.

He was quieter these days than Hermann ever remembered, one might even say subdued. The Newton he had known could never sit still for ten minutes, much less an hour, without jiggling his leg, interjecting some comment, doodling, or tapping out a melody with his fingers. Perhaps it was one mark of his ordeal, a scar, that he had learned silence.

Hermann was Newton’s designated caretaker, had been officially since Newt’s first lucid moment when he’d squeaked out an affirmative from beneath the weight of their control, enough to count as consent. The doctors came to Hermann first now, and he struggled to his feet, as ungainly as a turtle rolling off its shell in the rush to see the scans. Newt watched him, he could feel his eyes through the glass, a twitch of apprehension in the tightening of his jaw.

“The scans are clear, for the most part,” said the doctor, a Dr. Abadi, a distinguished woman a few years older than Hermann. She gestured to a cloud of activity on the scan. “When Jaeger pilots who have lost their partner exhibit this level of activity, we generally consider them out of the woods with regards to suicide risk or other dangerous behavior. Most described the echo of their partner as manageable at that point, an intrusive thought rather than a controlling impulse. Dr. Geiszler’s situation is unusual but, combined with observation, I would consider this grounds to recommend his return to civilian life. Albeit with regular check-ins and light observation, which you would be qualified to carry out, Dr. Gottlieb.”

Hermann exhaled slowly to try to control the spike of his heartbeat, the leap of hope. “When would that be?”

“We could release him into your custody now if you keep to your residence on the base,” Abadi said. “Going beyond these grounds however would require further clearance from the PPDC.”

At those words, Hermann felt suddenly dizzy. He muttered his way through the rest of the paperwork, guides, and assurances by the doctor, but could not stop stealing glances at Newton in the next room. It felt like an eternity before the door was unlocked and he was left alone with Newton.

“So, what’s the damage?” Newt said lightly but his shoulders tensed. They were always dancing around each other, careful not to delve too deeply into what existed between them. Things like the fact that Hermann knew the only time Newton cried the day of the attacks was when his fingers were wrapped around Hermann’s throat. That Newton knew Hermann had moved heaven and earth to ensure Newton was captured and not killed, and had spent every waking moment since working towards his treatment and eventual freedom. That Newton had put himself entirely into Hermann’s hands without hesitation. That in the end, when Newton was finally cleared, they would both…

Hermann cleared his throat. “We can go home now.”

“… Home?” Newt’s eyebrows furrowed in question, as if he hadn’t heard right.

“You’ve been cleared. Do you need anything from your… from your old quarters?”

“From my cell? No! Wait, are you kidding me?” Newt jumped to his feet. Once, Hermann might have expected him to punch the air, whooping or dancing at the news but he stopped there, a grin threatening his lips. Composure. Newt never had that before, either. “I’m never going the fuck back there again. Burn it. I’ll just wear your clothes. Uh… can I borrow some of your clothes? And there’s not gonna be, like, a line painted down the middle of your place, right?”

Hermann snorted, an excellent cover for the sudden lump in his throat. “I’ll happily sacrifice a portion of my wardrobe if it means never seeing that dreadful prison getup again. Which is to say, ah… what’s mine is yours.” He stuttered over the last. Newton met his eye and he knew it clearly as if Newton had spoken that this was it, the moment where they had to finally come to a decision on what they were to one another. It was one thing to tend a friend and colleague through a time of crisis, another to open up his home to that man while he got back on his feet…

But for the first time ever they’d have privacy. There’d be no cameras, no recording devices. No risk that Hermann offering a kind word could be used to wrest Newton’s custody away from him for fear that he couldn’t offer impartiality. For the first time since… since he couldn’t remember how long, perhaps a few moments in the dreadful lead up days to the attack when he still dwelled in ignorance, perhaps when Newton’s hand was wrapped around his throat, they would truly be alone together in a room.

Hermann offered his hand. A stiff, awkward gesture that he half-wished he could pass of as a muscle twitch if Newton didn’t take it. What were they to each other? What could they be?

Newton regarded the hand for a moment before his fingertips slide over Hermann’s palm to take it. Hermann wasn’t sure if he should be surprised that he did.

—

Hermann stood silently by after they entered the flat, to give Newt time to acclimate to the new surroundings, sparse as they were. Living alone, Hermann hadn’t seen much point in bedecking his living quarters. They were simple, functional, containing mostly books and work papers, furniture to accommodate his disability, and one of the Kaiju figurines Newton had left behind when he left for Shao Industries, perched on the corner of a bookshelf beside his desk. It was single level and so could become cramped  before long with two grown men who were not, strictly speaking, together in any way that Hermann might secretly hope. They weren’t there yet. They might never be. Newton might just take the time to get on his feet before seeking out new accommodations and privacy. The thought shouldn’t squirm in Hermann’s chest the way it did.

Finally, Newt sat on the bed and stretched his arms above his head luxuriously. “Fuck it’s good to get a change of scenery. Are you hungry? We could order a pizza. God, I would murder for a pizza.”

Hermann snorted despite himself and took a seat beside Newton on the bed. Newt doesn’t move away which is, in itself, a comfort. “It is a military base, but there are some alternatives to the cafeteria, yes.”

Silence lapsed between them, and he could tell by the fidgeting of Newt’s fingers and the pursing of his lips that it’s one where he would like to say something but can’t find the words. Hermann found himself in very much the same situation. He felt as if he were floating above the full impact of having Newt here, beside him in his home, with a clean bill of health that means that to the best of Earths’s abilities, he’s been determined to be clear, finally, of the Precursors influence. After ten years. Ten years of whatever torments they subjected him to, ten years of isolation, ten years of Hermann’s shameful neglect.

“Newton, I’m so sorry—”

“I’m so fucking proud of you, you know that?” Newt said simultaneously, and both broke off, staring at one another.

“What.”

“What?”

“The hell do you have to be sorry for, man?” Newt gaped. “Uh, in case you hadn’t noticed, I would have been completely shit-outta-luck if you hadn’t been there to pull me out at the end. Like, imprisoned for life or more likely just fucking dead. You saved my life. Again. I seriously, seriously owe you for everything you’ve done since… since, y’know, the attacks. And thanks to those jackasses I haven’t been able to say it.”

Hermann’s mouth worked. “But I abandoned you. I didn’t figure out sooner what had happened. I was too late, a step behind…”

Newt barked a sharp laugh. “What? What are you even talking about, man? You think I… ok wait, wait a minute back it up.” Newt held up a hand before pointing at Hermann. “You think I’m mad at you for not figuring out that I was possessed by aliens who wanted to destroy the world?”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Hermann’s lips twisted. “In a word, yes. And for not discovering their plan sooner.”

Some of the levity fell from Newt’s posture and the corner of his lips twisted down as he shook his head as if weighing Hermann’s words. “Ok, that one was a little on you. I figured once Obsidian Fury turned up with a Kaiju nervous system I’d have a good chance of someone figuring it out, but it’s still on like… the entire PPDC for not figuring out two plus two on that one. I mean, who the fuck else besides the Kaiju expert at Shao could have figured out how to put evil Kaiju parts into an evil Jaeger?” Newt shrieked, annoyance flicking over his face in what looked like a very old and oft-repeated frustration. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “But before that? Dude, as far as you knew, I told you on no uncertain terms to fuck off because I had a hot new life and a hot new wife, what else were you supposed to do? Stalk me? Frankly, I’m just lucky you wanted to talk to me after all that.”

Hermann cleared his throat, flushing a little at the reference to stalking, the thought might have crossed his mind more than once. “Was any of that you, when I spoke to you, before the attacks? Or was it all… them?”

Newt puffed out a thoughtful sigh and scratched the back of his neck. “A little of both? They had this way of… I dunno, twisting my words. Like, I did want you to come over, but I sure as fuck didn’t want you to ‘meet’ Alice. I missed saving the world together but I’m not that much of a douche as to make it sound like you just helped me, get it? It was like, I’d start to say something to you and then they’d add some dickish twist to it so it was an insult. Sometimes… sometimes I wasn’t mad about it though. You were always ragging on my research, it felt good to rain on your parade, just a little, just to get back and to keep you from giving those fuckers ideas like fucking Kaiju blood for rocket fuel. But even once they were gone I felt like I had to be careful. I didn’t want the PPDC to hear in case they got the wrong idea or thought you were complicit with me or some shit.”

“Hear what?” Hermann said breathlessly. Even with the months spent at Newton’s bedside, or rather just outside his cell, they’d not had the chance to speak candidly. There was, as Newton said, always an audience. His head was spinning.

Newt offered him a crooked smile. “That I’m proud of you, man! Like, holy shit. Kaiju blood for rocket fuel? Becoming a one-man PPDC K-Science lab, saving the fucking world? You cannot tell me those dumbass Jaeger pilots figured out a way to get from Moyulan all the way up to fucking Tokyo in less time than it took for the Precursors to hop in a fucking charter plane, no way. That had to be you, which means you saved the world. Again. You’re a fucking rock star!”

“I… well, that is, I didn’t… it was nothing…” Hermann stuttered.

“Shut up, you totally are!” Newt’s eyes are shining and he has grabbed Hermann’s hand in his enthusiasm, the gesture so familiar to a time gone by that tears prickle in Hermann’s eyes as his gaze jerks up to Newt’s face. “Do you know how pissed off the Precursors were about you, do you? They were fucking livid, you scared them shitless. They wanted you dead!”

“Oh, well that’s terribly comforting,” Hermann said faintly. Newt laughed.

“Are you kidding? Man, I can’t think of a higher compliment. The genocidal bastards that wanted to wipe out our planet almost pissed themselves on the tarmac when they saw you were here too! I thought they were going to faint when you showed up at Shao that night, it was fucking gorgeous.”

“They needn’t have worried,” Hermann muttered, but felt a blush rising inexorably to his cheeks and ears. “I did nothing to prevent the attack.”

“You countered every single weapon they threw at you!” Newt exploded, throwing up his hands. “And it took them ten years to put those together. You did it, man. I thought… I mean, I’m gonna level with you, I hoped there would be someone on the outside smart enough to catch on, even when catching on would have been batshit insane, like come on, who just guesses that a fucking war hero like yours-truly is a sock puppet for aliens? That’s nuts, right? That’s the only reason no one could have figured it out.” There’s a fragility to Newt’s levity, as if he’s repeating a rote lesson he’s said to himself over and over, to reassure himself it was true. His voice cracked over the words, but he forged on. “I hoped there’d be someone. I hoped it would be you, honestly, and I was right. I was right because I had the best lab partner in the fucking world.”

At the words lab partner, Hermann jerked back and looked away. The space between them had been closing, Newt’s enthusiasm was infectious. He had caught himself wanting to close the distance, staring at Newton’s lips. But that was all they’d ever been on paper. Lab partners.

“Well, there were others involved,” Hermann said. “I can’t take all the credit. But it is… kind of you to say, Newton. Thank you. I had no idea you held me in such esteem.”

“Always, man,” Newt said. His voice was faint, and when Hermann glanced back his expression was soft. “Since the first. You never could have pissed me off as much as you did if not.”

“Where will you go next?” Hermann said breathlessly, if only to change the subject so the blush rising up his throat wouldn’t consume him. “That is, I want to help you get back on your feet. You’re not beholden to me, and I don’t want you to feel as if you’ve swapped one prison for another, no matter what the PPDC might say on the matter. Your actions were clearly under duress and we will prove it, if necessary.”

“Next?” Newt said, as if he hadn’t heard any of the rest. He looked around the room, as if seeing it for the first time, and then to Hermann. “I, uh, hadn’t got that far, really? I guess I’m chill to hang out here for a bit, not get tangled up in all that paperwork that comes with leaving or…”

He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Fuck, I can’t do this. I don’t have any plans. The thought of going back out into the world? Scares the ever-loving shit out of me. What if they’re not really gone? What if they’re just waiting, y’know, hiding, and I’m gonna wake up at the helm of another evil corporation in a couple years? I’m right where I want to be, with a fucking army to keep an eye out in case they come back, and the person I… I trust most in the whole goddamn world to keep an eye on me. Hermann,” Newt squeaked, “I haven’t been totally honest and, fuck, you might throw me out for this, but there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now. I’ve been thinking about you… about seeing you again for a fucking decade. I was hoping… look, you’re the only person that keeps me right, ok? I’m not sure where we stand but if you’re not gonna punch me in the face just for asking I was kinda hoping I could take you out sometime? There’s gotta be a restaurant around here somewhere, right? Or I could, I dunno, cook something for you and we could watch a movie, a real house-arrest style date.” Newt’s eyes grew wild at Hermann’s continued, gaping silence, and his voice rose in pitch. “Or I could be totally off base and I’ll start looking for places of my own right away! Fuck, I shouldn’t have even brought it up, fuck me and my stupid mouth, I could have at least waited a few days but nooo, had to make it weird. Look, I’m sorry, I…”

Newt began to rise to his feet, scrambling away from Hermann, and it sent a jolt through Hermann that jarred him out of the haze that had swallowed his brain. Hermann panicked, and did the only thing he could think of, the only thing to keep Newt from pulling away.

He seized Newton by the shoulders and kissed him with all his might.

It was a messy, unglamorous affair. Their teeth clacked. Hermann’s face was so twisted with warring emotions he probably looked ridiculous. Newton seized up under his hands for a moment, and when Hermann dared open his eyes he saw Newt staring.

“Oh…” Newt breathed, and just before Hermann could break away, babbling his own apologies, he continued, “fuck yes.” And Newt was gripping him in return, pushing Hermann back onto the bed so they were lying flat, kissing one another breathless.

“Stay with me,” Hermann muttered between kisses. “No more lines, no more separation. We’ll figure this out together. Stay.”

“What’s there to figure out?” Newt grinned against his lips. “I’ve got everything I was hoping for, right here.”

[vintagemichelle91]

A Hard Lesson in Discord: Chapter 9

Authors’ Note: Time for another chapter! What will Natalia and Rafael do now that Nevada is involved?? A meeting is called in to order, let us find out just what goes down! Once again, thank you for all the amazing comments and support!! @rauliskafan and I do enjoy writing this series!

           “Are you awake?”

           “I don’t think I ever slept.”

           Twisting to one side, Rafael stroked Natalia’s rumpled hair. He was ashamed to admit that he had given in to dreams. Nightmares. Over and over again he saw Ramirez’s face, his smug smirk, and the eyes too much like his own full of wicked lust. He would wake to see his wife and take some comfort in her presence. But that did not alter the images that raced wildly through Rafael’s slumbering mind.

He envisioned his wife in the room where Ramirez had held him. Or dragged away from him, reaching out with desperate, flailing arms, hands. No matter how fast he tried to run, it was an impossible task to catch her. Suddenly, she would vanish, and Rafael would wake once more to stare down at her honey-colored locks. All he wanted was to keep her safe.

           But what game was Ramirez playing now?

           “You should have told me,” Rafael said, twirling a lock of her hair between his fingers. “I would have sat up with you.”

           “No,” Natalia murmured. “One of us needs to be sharp. For whatever today brings.”

           As Natalia inched to the edge of the bed, he was on his knees, his arms draped around her shoulders, and his lips lightly on her cheek.

           “Do you want to stay home?” he quietly suggested.

           “I can’t do that,” she sighed. “How would that look for Ashtonja?”

           “I… you’re right,” Rafael admitted. “I’m… I just hate seeing you so scared.”

           “I know,” she said, her chin falling towards her chest. “Do… do you think he’ll be there?”

           “I wish I could say no,” Rafael started. “But there’s no way that he arranged all of this for a jump scare just so he could then cut and run.”

           “Yeah.”

           Her tired eyes brimmed with tears, and Rafael folded her into his arms, kissing the tresses that spilled down her shoulders and smoothing his hands across her back.

           “Hermosa, he will not touch you.”

           Maybe he could make that much possible, and Natalia’s sniffles slowly ceased until she finally lifted her head.

           “I better check on the girls,” she said. “Then we’ll start getting ready.”

           She stepped away from the bed, and Rafael was quick to catch her hand, to gently turn her around to face him.

           “I love you,” he said. Was that all he could offer? Yet the words were true, and the silence was agony until her pink lips curled into the palest of smiles.

           “And I love you, Atticus,” she said. “Always.”

           “What is this about?”

           Upon asking the question, Rafael pulled Natalia a little closer. Manhattan’s wind blew cold, but he knew that wasn’t the reason she shivered as they met up with Langan, who looked as if his own sleep was troubled by a different variety of bad dreams.

           “Granger wants another sit-down,” Langan said.

           “He does?” Natalia asked with a gasp.

           “Why?” Rafael queried. “He can’t want a deal.”

           “Your guess is as good as mine,” Langan replied. “But it can’t hurt to hear him out.”

           “Can’t it?” Rafael scoffed.

           “Look,” Langan continued. “I know that you do not want to even think about shared custody.”

           “No chance,” Rafael said. “The point is to keep that woman out of Ashtonja’s life.”

           “Agreed,” Langan said. “So, we’ll listen between the lines. See if there’s something we can use later on.”

           Langan had a point. Let Granger showboat, and let Ines think that she had the upper hand. Neither was as smart as they thought they were.

           “Natalia?” Langan asked. “You okay with this?”

           She nodded softly, and Rafael held her hand as they followed their lawyer inside.

           “Do you want another cup of coffee?” he asked quietly.

           “Do I look that bad?” she said with a weak laugh.

           “Never,” he assured her. “But it couldn’t hurt.”

           “Well, maybe I…”

           Before she could finish the thought, they paused in the doorway of a reserved room. There sat Granger, flanked by Ines. The woman’s chin jutted into the air, her eyes sparkling with a cold confidence…

           ...and Natalia’s eyes suddenly seemed devoid of sleep when she caught sight of the man sitting at Ines’ other side.

           “What the hell is he doing here?” Rafael snarled. He stepped in front of his wife, not wanting Ramirez to so much as look at her.

           “Now calm down,” Granger said in a smooth voice, his palms bouncing against the air. “This is a friendly meeting.”

           “Which he is not a part of,” Rafael spat. He wanted to leap over the table and seize his warped mirrored image by the throat, and Langan seemed to sense as much, stepping into the fray.

           “Have to agree with my client here,” Langan said. “Mr. Ramirez has no stake in any of this.”

           “But I want him here.”

           Ines’ words were strong, steady, and Rafael started to speak again when Natalia pushed her way to the table.

           “And why is that?” she asked. “What is he to you?”

           “When you talk like that, Mrs. Barba, it makes you sound sort of jealous,” Ines answered. “Can’t say that I blame you. When all you have is the carbon copy.”

           Ready to rant at the woman, Rafael was startled when Natalia slammed one hand on the table.

           “Jealous?” she hissed back. “This… this man raped me. He tortured my husband. Did you know that? Or don’t you care? What kind of gruesome game are you two---?”

           “All I know is that you seem a hell of a lot more interested in him than the well-being of my granddaughter,” Ines countered. “But go ahead; keep digging that hole a little bit deeper.”

           Natalia’s fingers flexed, and she looked like she might scratch at Ines, or at least the air, when Ramirez rose, his sudden hand on her wrist. The same place Rafael had held when he only wanted to bring his wife back to their bed, so he could tell her how much he loved---

           “Don’t you fucking touch her!” Rafael barked.

           Pulling Natalia behind him, he batted Ramirez’s hand away, and the other man simply smiled.

           “Lo siento mucho,” he said. “No need for that, abogado. I’m just here as a friend to Ms. Abreu. And, Natalia?”

           “Don’t talk to her either!” Rafael insisted, but Natalia stood tall and narrowed her eyes.

           “What could you possibly say?”

           “Only that I meant to make friends again yesterday,” he said with a tilt of his head. “Whatever way it all went down, you’ll always hold a special place in my heart. Maybe I hoped you felt the same.”

           “After what you did to---?”

           “Hey! I was blackmailed into bad acts by your old DA,” Ramirez told Rafael. “Remember Collier Ward?”

           “I wish I didn’t,” Rafael admitted.

           “Both of us his victims,” Ramirez said, trying to strike an innocent pose. And even as Natalia’s lip quivered, she let out a strangled laugh.

           “Sigue diciéndote lo mismo idiota,” Natalia hissed, and Rafael had to do a double take.

           “That how you want to play it?” Ramirez challenged. “Let’s not forget that you were the one that came after me with a knife. Or are we pretending that didn’t happen?”

           “Only wish I’d gotten the job done,” Natalia whispered, and Ines was on her feet.

           “So it’s like that? And you think you two can judge me?”

What now? Rafael’s rage boiled to the surface. But even as he shared Natalia’s sentiment and saw his wife falling apart, knowing that Ramirez was setting a table to dine on their destruction, he worried and for their daughters...

“So why are we even here?” Langan finally demanded. “Are we going to talk terms or---?”

           “Terms?” Ines echoed. “You think that’s what this is about?”

           “Obviously not,” Natalia shot back. “So, what then?”

           “Qué quieres decir, mi mariposa?” Ramirez asked. And before Rafael could speak---

           “You know damn well what I mean!” Natalia said, and Rafael watched her, hating the fact that she to deal with this monster, this madman on any level. But there was more. He saw her spent, and picking a fight in this condition did not bode well for---

           “I think you’re confused,” Ramirez started. “It’s okay. A hearing like this takes a toll. That’s why I’m here. To see that the girl gets back where she belongs. “La estabilidad es todo. Wouldn’t you agree, abogado?”

           “No, I would not.”

           To that Ramirez laughed and looked to Granger.

           “Can’t reason with people like this,” he said with a sigh. “Some nights I wish esas gemelas got a better shake in life. Living with the likes of them… it’s not healthy.”

           “You stay away from my babies!” Natalia screamed, looking like she would tear the other man’s heart out. Somehow, Rafael stopped her, and Ines smoothed her hands down her leather skirt.

           “Think the judge needs to hear about all of this,” she said.

           “Oh, she will,” Granger said, picking up his phone and pressing one finger to the touchscreen.

           “You… were you recording this?” Rafael asked.

           “Perfectly legal,” Granger said. “Only one party has to consent to the audio. Which my client did.”

           He had them there, and Rafael’s mind searched for a way to undo some of the damage when---

           “If you think you’re getting Ashtonja back, you’re---”

           “What I think, Mrs. Barba is that my granddaughter was safe and sound until you and your husband’s crimes came to our door. And if these are your true colors, I want her far away from you like tomorrow.”

           “Which is when the hearing will resume,” Granger said. “We’re done here.”

           “You actually think this will have any bearing on the case?” Langan challenged.

           “Judge can decide that,” Granger smirked. “Ms. Abreu?”

           Ines appeared triumphant as she left the room with her lawyer. Ramirez followed, pausing for a single second to look back.

           “Duerme un poco,” he said. “None of those little girls should see you like this.”

           With those words he was gone, and Natalia sank to her knees, her head in her hands as Langan spoke fast, and Rafael tried to hold her crumbled form.

           “This won’t work,” Langan said. “It was all a set-up.”

           “And you played right into it,” Rafael said.

           “I did not know that Mr. Ramirez would be in the room. Or that Granger would---”

           “You should have!” Rafael replied. “Why not just load the gun and hand it over with a smile?”

           “I’ll give you a second to cool down,” Langan said, looking offended. But Rafael could care less. Immediately, his focus shifted to Natalia, and he rocked her while she cried, kissing the top of her head.

           “Are you okay?” he asked. “I’m sorry.”

           “He wants to take my babies,” she sobbed. “He won’t stop with Ashtonja.”

“Hermosa, please try to calm---”

“How can I?” she asked. “Don’t you see what he’s doing?”

“And none of this helped, Natalia.”

As soon as the words left his lips, he wanted to take them back, to tell her in every language that he was on her side. But Natalia looked right through him as she crawled to her feet, and he scrambled after her.

“Hermosa, I didn’t mean---”

“Yes, you did,” she muttered. “You think I’m crazy.”

           “No! Natalia, I understand---”

           “But you still wish I’d come in here on a good night’s sleep,” she said.

           “Well of course I---”

           “Sorry I couldn’t take a page from your book.”

           She was almost out of the room when he found her wrist. He hated the way she cringed but still pressed his brow to hers.

           “And endure all the nightmares about what he might do to you?” Rafael asked. “You think I don’t want to kill him? You think I wanted him to touch you?”

           His heart broke when she looked unsure of the answer, but his soul lightened some when she fell into his arms. Rafael held her tightly, muttering a million apologies until she calmed and finally found his eyes.

           “Atticus?”

           Hearing her call him that seemed a second step in the right direction.  

           “What are we going to do?”

           But the answer was worlds’ away.

 Tagging: @minidodds @dreila03 @mrsrafaelbarba @delia26 @rafi-esparza @fortheloveofallthingsraul @yourtropegirl @letty-o @lyssa1385 @mrschiltoncat @sweetsummertime99 @obfuscateyummy

[unfolded73]

This Graceful Path (10/19)

Summary: Emma has just moved in with Mary Margaret and started working as a deputy in the Storybrooke sheriff’s department when she meets Killian Jones, the town’s introverted harbormaster. When a prominent Storybrooke resident is found murdered, Emma tries to juggle solving the case with new friendships, parenthood, and romance. A Season 1 Cursed!Killian AU.

Rating: Explicit per CSBB guidelines (violence, sex); more of an M on unfolded73’s scale. The sex, when we get there, is not extremely graphic in nature. Same with the violence.

Content Warning: This fic contains two major character deaths, one canon and one not. (You’re already past them.) Content warning for sexual content in this chapter. As with the show itself, there are consent issues involved with cursed people having sexual relations, so be warned.

Total word count: ~ 75,000

Acknowledgements: Thank you to @j-philly-b  for betaing this monstrosity. Thank you to @caprelloidea for all of the read-throughs and cheerleading; not sure I could have written it without your excitement early on. Thank you to @teruel-a-witch for the original prompt on tumblr which sparked this fic. Thank you to @pompeiiablaze for the wonderful art which accompanies Chapter 3 and 9 and one later chapter. Thanks to the CSBB mods ( @sambethe in particular, who had to look at my check-ins) for your support and for enduring my neuroses.  

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 – AO3 Link

Chapter 10

“N… nothing here, Madam M… mayor,” the man said fearfully, and Regina imagined ripping his heart out and crushing it just to stop his annoying stutter. She rolled her eyes.

“So find another clear spot and dig again,” she said through clenched teeth, her voice loud in the muffled stillness of the snowy forest. Was this one Bashful? Or Dopey? She didn’t recall and frankly, didn’t care. She didn’t bother to learn their cursed names, and she certainly wasn’t going to try to remember their names from the Enchanted Forest.

Several of the dwarves wielded shovels, while another was operating a metal detector, moving it over the freshly fallen snow that blanketed the forest floor. Tree branches heavy with snow hung low around them, the lower ones dropping their burden on the ground in huge clumps as they were disturbed by the searchers.

Regina wasn’t sure that the Dark One dagger would even set off a metal detector — was what it was made of technically metal, or was it some enchanted element that had no equivalent in this realm? — so she was having the dwarves dig in an ever-widening circle away from the site of the murder. She stamped her booted feet against the cold. Probably best to go back to her warm office and wait for news.

“So, of course, when I get a call from a citizen saying there were strange men digging in the forest, I should have guessed that you were involved,” a sardonic voice said from behind her. Regina swung around to see Emma coming toward her, gray beanie shoved down tight over her head and shiny sheriff’s badge at her hip. Regina sneered.

“Well, someone has to look for the murder weapon since your office is doing such a miserable job of searching for it,” Regina sneered. “You and that charming deputy of yours are worse than useless.”

“You’re out here disturbing a crime scene,” Emma said, her breath visible in the frosty air.

“It’s been two and a half months,” Regina responded. “If you haven’t finished investigating the crime scene, then you’re even more incompetent than I thought.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “So you’re going to dig up the whole forest?”

“If I have to. This is town property, Ms. Swan, and I have every right to do exactly what I’m doing.”

“Why?”

“Anything to get justice for poor Mr. Gold.”

“Why do I doubt that you give a shit about Mr. Gold?” Emma asked, her arms folding across her chest.

“I ‘give a shit’ that there’s still a murderer on the loose. A murderer that you seem to be dating if the town rumor mill is accurate.”

“Killian’s not the killer.”

Regina narrowed her eyes, surprised that Emma didn’t offer even a token denial of the relationship. “And how do you know that?”

“The killer stole Tom Clark’s car and followed Mr. Gold out here, and Killian doesn’t drive,” she said, ticking off points on her gloved fingers. “The killer would have gotten blood on his clothes, and Killian was seen by his next-door neighbor not long after the murder, looking normal. Also, I’ve found no fingerprints in the car or in Gold’s cabin that match his.”

“And do they match anyone else?” Regina asked.

Emma looked chastened at that question. “I’m still trying to work that out. So far I haven’t found anything that didn’t match Mr. Gold himself in the cabin, or Mr. Clark and his friends in the car. But we’re still investigating it.”

“So he could have had a glove on.” Regina looked back at the men digging in the forest. “We’re going to find that dagger, Ms. Swan, and when we do, you’ll have to accept the fact that your new boyfriend is a murderer.” And the Dark One, she thought to herself.

“Why are you so insistent that Killian did this? I can tell when someone’s lying, and he’s telling the truth.”

Regina pulled herself up, standing ramrod straight and staring down her nemesis. “I know the history of the people in this town that you cannot begin to understand. If you think he’s telling the truth, then you’re blinded by his pretty face.”

“Whatever.” Emma turned to head back the way she’d come. “Have fun out here in the cold.”

Regina watched Emma go until she’d disappeared from view, seething internally. She stomped her feet, her toes numb inside her boots. She swung around, furious. “Keep working!” she shouted. “I won’t abide any laziness. And call me as soon as you find anything!”

Back in her car, Regina turned on the heat full-blast and then noticed that she’d left her Blackberry sitting on the passenger seat. She had a missed call from Kathryn Nolan, David’s wife.

If what Regina suspected was correct, then despite her best efforts at intervention, that damned Snow White and her peasant husband had found their way back into each other’s arms. That kind of happiness was exactly what the curse was supposed to prevent. She pressed a button to call Kathryn back.

“Hello, Kathryn, you called?”

“Hi, Regina. Thanks for calling me back.”

“You sound sad; is everything all right?”

“No. I just had a long conversation with David. Our marriage is over.”

“I was headed back to my office. Can you meet me there? We can talk.”

Regina’s hands clutched the steering wheel as she drove back into town. She would stop this. She couldn’t allow Snow White to be happy, that would defeat the whole purpose, the whole reason for Storybrooke’s existence.

Pulling into her accustomed parking space at town hall and leaving the car, she marched into the building, thinking about what her play should be. If Snow White and Prince Charming were together, she would have to do something to tear them apart. Was there a way to frame one of them for Mr. Gold’s murder? Doubtful, not with David’s familiarity with the case as Emma’s deputy. But if someone else died, or went missing, and if sweet little Mary Margaret was the prime suspect…

Regina sighed; she really could have used a toadying minion like Sidney Glass to help her deal with this problem, but he’d proven himself so useless when it came to unseating Emma Swan as sheriff that he’d required punishment. She supposed she’d have to do everything herself. As usual. No one could be counted on, in this world or any other.

Kathryn was already sitting on a bench outside Regina’s office. Regina pulled her into a hug, every inch the supportive friend. “Come in, Kathryn, and tell me everything.”

They sat down together on the pristinely white sofa. Regina handed Kathryn a box of tissues, but she seemed to have herself under control. “David confessed to me that he’s been cheating on me with Mary Margaret.”

Regina didn’t have to fake her anger. “That complete and utter asshole.”

Kathryn shrugged. “At least he was honest. He’s in love with her, not with me.” She sighed. “To be fair, I don’t know if I’m in love with him either.”

“That’s awfully generous of you. But you are his wife and the two of you took vows. That can’t be undervalued.”

“I know, but it’s never felt right.” Kathryn stood up and began to pace, her heels loud against the marble floor. Regina’s mind whirred as she focused on the upside down image of Kathryn in the reflective shine of the black and white marble under their feet. “It’s never felt real<, me and David. Even before the coma. I don’t think we were meant to be.”

Regina stood as well, walking over toward one of her decorative end tables. She caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror, a hundred tiny, fractured versions of herself in each of the beveled edges. “So what are you going to do?”

“I considered running away to Boston; I was thinking about applying to law school and getting a fresh start. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Storybrooke is my home. I don’t have to leave it if I don’t want to.” As she talked, she turned to look out the window. Regina picked up a heavy vase from the end table and stole up behind her. It didn’t matter what Kathryn said. If she turned up dead, it wouldn’t be hard to focus the blame on the woman her husband was having an affair with. “Yes, it will be hard to see David and Mary Margaret together, but I’m strong. I can deal with it.”

Regina raised the vase.

There was a loud knock on her office door.

Just managing to get the vase set down before Kathryn turned from the window, Regina pasted on a forced smile. “What is it?” she called, her voice sharp.

The door opened to reveal Killian Jones.

“I was wondering if we could talk, Madam Mayor,” he said.

“I’m in a meeting,” Regina almost snarled.

“It’s okay, I need to run some errands.” Kathryn reached out and squeezed Regina’s hand, her face kind. “Thanks for being a good friend, Regina.” Regina watched as her ticket to making Mary Margaret miserable walked out the door.

“This was bad timing, Cap— Mr. Jones.”

“So was the — writer, was it? — that you sent sniffing around the docks this morning.”

Regina glared at him. “When the sheriff has done nothing to solve this horrible crime, I’ll take any help I can get. Even bohemian writers.” She knew who August was; he wasn’t writing any book, at least not one he planned to publish. As the only other person in town who knew the origins of Storybrooke, she either needed to make an ally of him or eliminate him. For now, she was electing to try the former.

“Emma has worked night and day—”

“Yes, well, you aren’t exactly unbiased when it comes to Miss Swan, are you? Nor she with you. Which is a bigger problem.”

“Why are you so convinced that I killed that man?” Killian asked, his voice rising with a little bit of desperation. “I swear on all that’s holy that I didn’t.”

“You and anything holy are about as far apart as two things can get,” Regina muttered. She knew Hook probably believed what he was saying, thanks to the curse, or thanks to however the Dark One was manifesting itself in his cursed brain. But the fact remained that he was the Dark One, she was almost certain of it, and she needed to get possession that dagger before the curse was broken, or who knows what would happen when he realized who and what he was.

“I just thought the guy seemed dangerous,” Killian said. “Unconcerned with following the law. A man like that might do anything in pursuit of a story.”

“And what are you suggesting I do with him? If he’s so dangerous, perhaps you should tell your girlfriend, the sheriff?”

“How about start by telling him I’m no murderer!” Killian shouted.

“Or what?” When he didn’t respond, Regina walked over to her desk and picked up some papers, stacking them in what she hoped was a dismissal. “I’ll be sure to keep your input in mind. Was there anything else?”

~*~

“I’m headed out,” Emma said to Mary Margaret as she descended the stairs from her bedroom. She’d rushed home from the station to freshen up. Lately, she'd been so busy, she’d hardly spoken to her roommate.

Mary Margaret looked up from the stove where she was stirring a sauce. “Where’s Killian taking you?”

“He’s doing what you’re doing for David; cooking dinner.”

“Ooh, romantic.” Mary Margaret smirked at her. “Do you think you’ll be back tonight?”

Emma flushed, biting her lip. “Let’s just say I’m prepared for the possibility that I won’t be. I promise I’ll call if not and give you ample warning.” Emma gathered up her purse and keys. “Listen, David told me about him and Kathryn; I’m really so happy for you two.”

Mary Margaret’s face broke out into a full grin. “Me too. I know it’s still going to be difficult, and he has to get through the divorce, but Kathryn really couldn’t have been more understanding.”

“I guess they both knew they weren’t right for each other.”

“You know, David gives a lot of credit to both you and Killian for setting him straight on telling Kathryn the truth.”

Emma was surprised to hear that. “I didn’t realize he and Killian talked about personal stuff.”

“Yeah, they’re really getting to be good friends. Oh, we could double date!”

Wrinkling her nose, Emma opened the door. “Yeah, because we’re teenagers in the 1950s. I’ll see you later, Mary Margaret.”

She drove the short distance to Killian’s apartment, her heart in her throat. The last time they’d been together, she was fairly certain that if Mary Margaret hadn’t come home, she and Killian would have ended up in bed together. Now they were going to be alone in his apartment with the whole night ahead of them. It didn’t matter how many people she’d slept with in her life; the idea that tonight might be the night with Killian was making her more nervous than she’d felt about a guy in a long time.

When he opened the door for her promptly after she knocked, she could see her own feelings reflected in his hopeful expression.

“Hey, come on in.” He helped her off with her coat, hanging it in a small closet by the front door. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

If she expected to see chaos in his kitchen, she was disappointed. The oven was on, something obviously cooking inside, and a salad sat on the counter. All the dishes involved in preparing the meal had been washed and put away. The table was set with two place settings, and there was even a single rose in a beer bottle. She smiled.

“I know my apartment isn’t much, but…”

“It’s fine.”

They stared at each other awkwardly. Killian scratched behind his ear, glancing over at the oven timer, which still had four minutes left on it.

“Can I get you a beer?” Killian asked.

“Yeah, sure.” The process of getting beer out of the fridge and opening them took about a minute, and then they were back to uncomfortable silence.

“Sorry, I probably should have prepared some topics of conversation. I’ve suddenly forgotten how to use language,” he said, flushing to the tips of his ears.

“It’s the sex thing,” Emma said.

She watched him swallow, his hand coming up to scratch behind his ear again. “I’m sorry?”

She set her beer down on the kitchen counter and wiped her palms off on her jeans. “You know, the sex thing. We’re both wondering if we’re gonna have sex tonight. It’s making things awkward and weird.”

Killian’s eyes blinked a few times. “Right. So are we? Going to have sex?” He bit his lip, which she thought looked like a fantastic idea. Sinking her teeth into his bottom lip was definitely a thing she wanted to experience first-hand.

Shrugging one shoulder, she smiled. “It’s not just up to me.” She took a couple of steps toward him. “But I’d like to cast my vote for yes.”

Killian hummed, his smile bringing out the dimples in his cheeks. “Well, it’s unanimous then. That’s lucky.”

They sort of swayed into each other, drawn in by an invisible pull between them. “Lucky,” Emma agreed, letting her body come to rest against his, touching legs and chests and fuck, he smelled really good.

When they kissed, it wasn’t tentative or slow; she opened her mouth and so did he and their tongues were touching, wet and slick and perfect. Emma reached up and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close so that her breasts crushed against the firm plane of his chest.

The oven timer sounded and Killian ignored it, his mouth busy against the curve where her neck met her shoulder.

“Oven,” she rasped out.

“Don’t care.”

Emma pried him away, enjoying his lazy, lust-filled expression. “Your dinner’s going to burn, and we should probably eat so that we have enough strength for the other thing.”

Killian spun around, twisting knobs to stop the beeping timer and to turn off the oven itself. Taking a casserole out, he set it down to cool and turned to her. “Or we could do the other thing now, and have dinner after.” His hopeful smile made her laugh, so she kissed him again.

“Okay,” she mumbled against his lips.

“Okay?”

She reached around and squeezed his ass, pulling him up against her. “Okay.”

What followed was a clumsy, stumbling walk to the bedroom as they continued kissing and Emma went to work on his shirt buttons. She paused in the doorway of his bedroom to take her boots off, tossing them in the general direction of the front door, before joining him by the bed, neatly made like the first time she’d been in here, when she’d searched his apartment.

“Undressing another person is awkward, don’t you think?” she said as she untucked his shirt from his jeans so she could finish unbuttoning it.

Killian chuckled, pulling her close, his hand roaming down her back and over the curve of her ass. “Would that I had some kind of magic to whisk our clothes away.”

Emma took a step back, pulling her sweater over her head, and then they were both rapidly yanking their jeans off, sitting down next to each other to finish the job. Noticing that he’d removed his underwear at the same time, Emma reached behind her back to unfasten her bra, then pulled her own underwear off, and wow, she did not expect to be getting naked this early in the proceedings, but here she was, completely bare in Killian’s lamp-lit bedroom.

He kissed her while she reached back and fumbled with the bedding, and then he was pressing her back onto the pillows and Emma let herself be pressed, enjoying the fall and the weight of his body over her. His shirt was open but still on, and she wondered if he was uncomfortable about his prosthesis and what lay under it. She hoped he’d grow more confident with time, and it struck her like a thunderclap that she wasn’t just about to have sex with someone. She was assuming this tumble into bed would be the first of many. She was thinking like this wasn’t a one-time thing. She blinked her eyes, amazed.

“You all right, love?”

Emma reached up and caressed his face, enjoying scraping her nails through the stubble on his cheek. “I should be asking you that. You sure your ribs are up for this?”

He smiled softly. “I assure you, I’m tip top.”

Running her hand down his back and up under his shirt, she pulled him down, opening her thighs and cradling his in between, gasping at the intimate press of his cock between her legs. Then they were both lost, mouths meeting and hips rolling against one another, all breathless moans and grinding, panting desire. She was already so wet, could feel it in the slick drag of him against her, knew she should ask him to get a condom or run and fetch one from her purse, because she was so ready for this, ready for him to push inside her and fuck her and make her come.

He slowed things down though, moving over to one side and running his hand over her chest, cupping her breast and brushing his thumb over the nipple. Emma gasped, grasping the sides of his face and kissing him again, arching against his hand. He slid it down, brushing his calloused palm over her abdomen, and she rolled her hips, hoping he would take the hint and touch her where she was desperate to be touched.

When his fingers finally slipped between her legs, Emma bit down on his bottom lip, her hand tightening in his hair. She felt like a coiled spring; like her body had been waiting for this since the moment they met, since the moment she turned in the bright sunlight and saw him there on the docks. They groaned together as he slid a finger inside her. He alternated between gentle thrusts in and out, and more focused touches to her clit, winding her tighter and tighter as she lifted her hips and panted into his mouth.

“Condom?” she murmured.

“Yeah.” He rolled over, pulling open his bedside table drawer and taking out a foil packet. Emma took advantage of the fact that he was on his back, sitting up and moving astride him, taking the condom from his hand. She’d always had an easier time coming when she was on top, and she grinned at him as she tore the package open with her teeth. He met her gaze with one of lust-filled amazement, like he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

Emma rolled the condom on, stroking him and lining her body up and sinking down and oh. There. He filled her, the delicious stretch of it making her whimper as she leaned forward and started a slow pace, her hands clutching the bed on either side of his pillow.

It took a few thrusts for them to find a rhythm together, his hips not quite rising in sync with hers at first, but they adjusted to each other and she couldn’t help moaning at how good it felt. “Fuck, Swan, yes,” he chanted with every rise and fall, every slick meeting of their bodies. She could feel it building, grinding down onto his pelvic bone as hard as she could, chasing her pleasure and feeling the sensation of an orgasm ahead, nothing stopping her, nothing in the way between her and that best of all possible feelings. She dimly heard Killian cry out just before her own orgasm hit, everything clenching and pulsing with perfect bliss.

Emma took a few seconds to rest against his chest before carefully dismounting, making sure he had a grip on the condom so they didn’t make a mess of things. Killian got up to clean himself up while she collapsed onto her back, her chest still heaving.

“Ready for dinner?” he asked when he returned to the bedroom, a cheeky smile on his face.

She shook her head back and forth on the pillow, taking a moment to enjoy the sight of his body. “That would require me to be capable of standing up.”

HIs resulting expression was full of pride. “I could stand here and throw food at you if you prefer.”

Emma heaved herself up, fishing around on the floor for her underwear. “I guess I have worked up an appetite.” Killian pulled his jeans back on, but Emma decided to only bother with the underwear and her sweater, leaving her own jeans and her bra on the floor.  

Having sex first was the best idea he’d ever had; all the awkwardness from earlier had drained away, and as she ate almost-warm-enough forkfuls of Killian’s hamburger casserole, she thought she had never laughed so much over a meal.

They lingered at the table over cups of coffee and shared a piece of store-bought cheesecake, Killian’s blue eyes sparkling in the light of the dim bulb over his cheap, laminate table.

“What?” he said, and it made her realize that she was just sitting there, staring at him, her foot hooked over the rung of her chair, her bare legs slightly chilled.

“Nothing, I’m…” She took a second to interrogate the way she was feeling, expecting to find apprehension that she’d moved too far, too fast, gotten too close. But all she found was joy. “I’m just happy.”

He reached across the table and took her hand, his expression open and warm. “Me too.”

Later, they found their way into bed again, her sweater still on but panties flung enthusiastically across the room, and she looked down her body at the erotic sight of his dark hair between her thighs. She’d told him he could take off his shirt and prosthesis if he wanted to, and in the dark bedroom, he’d agreed, vulnerable and trusting.

Now he worked her over with his tongue and fingers, his focus only on her pleasure, and she gave herself over to it, rocking against his face and gripping his hair and muttering don’t stop, don’t stop until she came with a strangled cry. She was vaguely aware of him still between her legs, watching her as she shuddered with the aftershocks. As soon as she could make her limbs cooperate, she pulled her sweater off, collapsing naked and sweaty back onto the sheets.

Emma made a half-hearted motion toward his drawer with the condoms before Killian crawled over her to retrieve one himself. She sat up enough to kiss him as he fumbled with the wrapper.

“This okay?” he asked against her mouth.

“Uh huh.”

There were more sloppy kisses as he lined himself up, and then he buried himself to the hilt inside her. She wrapped her legs around him, telling him to let go, telling him to fuck her hard and he did, a glorious snarl on his face and the cords of his neck standing out. She gripped his biceps, loving the way his muscles felt under her hands. He didn’t last long, a strangled moan issuing from his throat as his orgasm hit. She combed her fingers through his hair as he came down, feeling exhausted and satisfied and wonderful.

He pulled her into his arms as soon as he returned from cleaning up, his nose brushing against hers in a not-quite-kiss. They settled against each other under the sheets, legs entangled. There was a gentle intimacy between them that was filling her heart, almost bringing tears to her eyes with how perfect it felt. Holding each other close, they both drifted off to sleep.

~*~

Emma woke up to the sound of his voice, but it was all wrong. Before she was even awake, the hairs on her arms were raised with gooseflesh.

“I’ll see you die,” he muttered between clenched teeth. Emma sat up in bed and looked over, seeing Killian still asleep in the light from the moon, now shining through the window and illuminating the bedroom with pale white light. He tossed and turned, lost in a nightmare.

“Dreamed of this day for so long,” he said, followed by more muttering she couldn’t understand. He flung his arm out, and it came to rest across her lap. Emma looked down at his tattoo, clearly visible in the moonlight. At the heart, and the name, and the dagger with the curved blade.

Curved blade.

“Your life is mine, Crocodile,” he said clearly.

Crocodile. He’d said that before, in the interrogation room at the sheriff’s station.

Emma carefully extracted herself from underneath his arm. Her mind a haze of panicky, swirling thoughts, she gathered her clothes from around the room, pulled them on, and fled into the night.

Chapter 11

[mrmichaelchadler]

Touch Me Not

In "Touch Me Not," the first feature from experimental filmmaker Adina Pintilie, and the surprise winner of the Golden Bear at last year's Berlinale, a middle-aged woman (Laura Benson) attempts to break through emotional barriers to experience sexual pleasure and/or intimacy. Along the way, the film addresses things like ageism, transphobia, and the erasure of the disabled (especially when it comes to sexuality). Sex is a universal topic of interest, and has been so probably since before humans even developed language. Despite this, portrayals of single-minded sexual focus have a tendency to get super abstract, or over-intellectualized, or exploitative. "Touch Me Not" is definitely abstract and intellectualized, although I didn't find it exploitative. But so much of the film left me cold, even bored. 

There's a lot of explicit sex and a lot of frank sex talk in the film. (I can't tell you what you will feel about "Touch Me Not." Tolerance for sexuality onscreen depends on the individual. What I find tiresome may be what you find fascinating, and vice versa.) Pintilie uses a blend of documentary and narrative fiction, meant to pierce through preconceived notions about what sex is, who "gets" to have good sex, how we perceive one another (or don't) as sexual beings. 

There's a self-conscious voyeurism to the film. Laura is interviewed by Pintilie (seen on a monitor), so we are looking at someone being looked at, and also looking at someone who is looking. The issue of what it means to look and what it means to be looked at is a central theme, perhaps the most important. Many of the people in the film are non-actors. Many have disabilities. One of the recurring scenes is a group therapy session, where people are led through different exercises, similar to what happens in an acting class. Christian Bayerlein, a man with severe spinal atrophy who participates in these sessions, becomes the most memorable figure in the film. His therapy partner is Tómas Lemarquis, a man with alopecia who feels cut off from the world. Christian observes that Tomas's soul seems hidden. When Christian speaks about his sexuality, he does so with a refreshing openness: "I love my penis because it's the only part of my body that functions normally." 

In "Touch Me Not," sex is not just about the act itself. It's also about the issues around the act, the damage and unmanaged trauma people carry into the bedroom. Laura reaches out to experienced escorts and sex workers to grapple through some of these issues. (A sex worker friend of mine told me that more than half of her job was just listening to people talk to her. Her clients weren't looking for sex as much as they were looking to abolish their loneliness, how invisible they felt to others.) Laura meets with a trans sex worker named Hannah, whom Laura finds "comforting." Hannah transitioned at the age of 50, has a strong sense of who she is, loves her body, loves classical music. Laura also has meetings with a male escort named Seani Love, who specializes in "conscious kink." Seani and Laura have conversations about boundary-setting, Seani asking questions along the way, constant check-ins. (If you want to see what sexy consent looks like, these scenes are a good example.) At one point, Seani reaches out, after asking Laura if it's okay, and places his hand gently over her heart. He leaves his hand there. She begins to weep. I found these scenes, where I wasn't sure what was planned beforehand and what was spontaneous, fascinating. 

Pintilie's style is repetitive. "Touch Me Not" rotates around the same three settings. There's an almost monochromatic color scheme, with white backgrounds predominating, giving the whole thing a clinical hospital atmosphere. Laura tracks Tomas through the streets. People are seen from across a vast distance, through glass walls and windows. It's very monotonous, but for no discernible reason. When Tomas follows a woman into a BDSM sex club, it was a relief to get a change of scenery, a place where there were dark colors and shadows and different people doing fabulously kinky things. Late in the film, Laura goes to visit her ill father in the hospital—the implications being that unresolved daddy issues may be the source of her sexual disconnection—an extremely trite "plot" development, a betrayal of the more nuanced explorations of invisibility, looking, being looked at, and how shame runs so much of our lives without our even knowing it. Catherine Breillat, in films like "Romance," "Anatomy of Hell" and "36 Filette," has covered the same territory, but Breillat's films are ignited with urgency, anger, and curiosity. Lars von Trier's "Nymphomaniac" practically lampoons these types of sexual-discovery films, while still treating the subject seriously. There's humor in Breillat, there's humor in Von Trier. "Touch Me Not" is humorless, an almost fatal flaw. The documentary-style sections—featuring Christian and his wife, Laura with the two sex workers, and the group therapy sessions—held my interest, but the rest of "Touch Me Not"—and it's a long film—tried my patience.

from All Content http://bit.ly/2M2wkA3

[famedubaitravl]

Wood has his eyes set on outpacing Jofra Archer

WI TOUR OF ENGLAND, 2020

With Anderson, Broad and Woakes being safe bets at home, Mark Wood has his eyes set on outpacing Jofra Archer © Getty

Mark Wood admits he is in a pace race with Jofra Archer as the pair battle it out for the crown of England’s quickest bowler. Right now, Wood thinks Archer is winning that race but he is determined to catch up.

“I cannot speak for Jofra but I definitely want to be quicker than him and I’m sure he wants to be quicker than me,” Wood said. “Especially in the World Cup, he used to joke about it all the time, that they were putting my speeds up higher deliberately. If we were to play together it would be exciting. But it’s not a bad rivalry, it’s a friendly rivalry.

“I would say he’s probably quicker than I am and certainly makes it look a lot easier than me so I want to prove that I can be as fast as Jof. That friendly rivalry does spur you on to be a better cricketer.”

Both men were vital parts of last summer’s World Cup victory, combining for 38 wickets between them, but they have yet to play in a Test match together. Whether that happens during next month’s series against West Indies remains to be seen but having two 90 mph plus bowlers in the same attack is no doubt a tantalising prospect for England captain Joe Root, particularly with an away Ashes series only 18 months away.

The likelihood is, however, that England will select either Archer or Wood for the upcoming Tests against the West Indies, perhaps on a rotation basis given all three Tests are set to be played back-to-back. Each have had their injury problems of late. Wood only returned to Test cricket in the final two Tests in South Africa after a long lay-off and Archer missed three of the four matches in that series because of an elbow injury. England will want to treat both carefully.

With the likes of James Anderson, Stuart Broad and Chris Woakes experts at bowling in England, competition for places is fierce too. “I don’t see myself being in the best XI in home conditions,” Wood said. “Maybe away conditions suit me a little more. If you put your best XI down, I’m not sure my name would be in there. I’d love to be, and I’ll push as hard as I can to keep my spot but I’m thinking in home conditions I’m maybe not the first name on the team sheet. But we’ll wait and see what happens.”

Wood is the man in possession, of course, having played in England’s last Test match. His re-introduction to Test cricket in South Africa, after nearly 12 months out of the team because of injury, went as well as could have been hoped. He took a Test best nine wickets in the fourth Test at the Wanderers, bowling quickly and aggressively, to round off a 3-1 series win. “I put in probably my best performance in the last game,” Wood said.

By his own admission, however, Wood’s first innings spell against West Indies in St Lucia in February 2019 remains the quickest he has managed. Indeed, it was, by common consent, one of the fastest spells ever bowled by an English bowler. Wood ended up with 5 for 41 from 8.2 overs, an effort which kick started his career after an injury plagued, stop-start four years in international cricket.

“I felt in a great place, and I still look back on that performance with fond memories,” Wood said. “It really gave me confidence going into the World Cup and into South Africa so yes it probably was my consistent quickest. I think I could get that again.”

A shorter-run up paid almost immediate dividends. “I wish I’d changed my run up sooner, I think that was a big change,” he added. “Also the fact I went on a Lions tour before the West Indies to the UAE, got some confidence there and bowled well. Actually stepping out of the international scene, making some adjustments and things I needed to work on then coming back I felt a different player.

“Once you get that one score, or for me that one five-wicket haul, that gave me a massive boost. It sort of calmed me down where I’m not trying too hard and I can have that belief. I had the belief before but I was frustrated I had not showed people how good I could be. To get that five-for really helped and has allowed me to kick on.”

Wood is one of 30 players who assembled at the Ageas Bowl for England’s bio-secure pre-series camp on Tuesday (June 23). All the players and management were tested for Covid-19 on arrival and the results were all negative which means training can begin on Thursday.

“The organisers have done a fantastic job and literally there has been no stone unturned,” said Wood, who has been supporting children to get active through cricket as part of Yorkshire Tea National Cricket Week – a week of fun, online activities for children at home or at school from the national cricket charity Chance to Shine.

“You come in and get a check straight away, your bags are cleaned and then you are sat in your room as if you have moved into a hotel room. The temperature check was weird – you just walk through a tent outside and they tell you you’re alright. Don’t know what would happen if you are not alright there!

“It is a bit like a sci-fi movie. Everybody is masked up you don’t know whether they are friendly or not, some people scowl more than you think. It is something we will have to get used to.

“You have to follow arrows and feet marks everywhere. You go to a food station with a chef who gives you your food. You’re not touching anything like you usually would. Then you go to the tables which are sporadically spaced out. This morning I had breakfast and looked at the back of Jos’ head.

“The cleaner can come in once a week for a deep clean. If you don’t want that to happen, you can refuse it. The state that my room will be in, I’ll definitely be accepting it. This is your space. Your own room is yours to look after and I’m not the cleanest. I’ll have clothes and stuff everywhere in a few days’ time.”

Easily bored, Wood says he will be on the hunt for things to occupy his mind. “Normally with masseur Mark Saxby as soon as I saw him I would be lifting him up in the air but I can’t go near him,” he said. “Everybody is trying to abide by the rules. Of course it is safety first. I am not a big golfer either and there is nothing else to do. You can’t go anywhere so I’m not sure what I’m going to get up to yet. It is a bit odd.

“The fact that Stokesy can’t get to me because we have to stay two metres apart, he is definitely on my radar. it is a question of how far I can push him before he snaps. I think yes I will get up to something. I have to stop the boredom. There is an old school arcade with street fighter console and I think that looks tempting. I might have a go on that. I might dress up for the part as well.”

Yorkshire Tea National Cricket Week works with the charity Chance to Shine to support and grow the grassroots of the game in schools and communities. Join in at https://ift.tt/2Bzmt3B

© Fame Dubai

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