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So. Here's how it works:

1. Post a list of your five favorite acts/kinks/themes/tropes to read about. Check out THIS list if you need some inspiration. At the bottom, add what fandoms/pairings you're interested in.
2. Go HERE and post a link to your list. Read other people's lists.
3. Write comment-fic (or longer pieces) based off of other people's lists. Post either the fics or a link to the fic in the person's post.



Five kinks/tropes/themes/whatnots I adore:

1) Nonmonogamy (threesomes, foursomes, multiple partners, etc. Known & consensual, as distinct from cheating/adultery.)
2) Established relationships, especially at turning points.
3) Penetration (including pegging).
4) Consent issues (noncon and dubcon are different, but I'm putting them in one listing because for both of them it's the catharsis factor. I also like their opposite, explicit consent).
5) Bondage (including verbal, and definitely including tentacles).

Some fandoms:

Star Trek Reboot; Star Trek DS9 & Voyager; nu!Who & Torchwood; NUMB3RS; LOTR (involving at least one hobbit); White Collar; The Eagle; RED; DC Comics; DCAU (including Teen Titans and Young Justice).

Pairings: Try me. I like nearly everything and I have a soft spot for OCs. And I love femslash, het, slash, and assortments thereof.



The master post. And, fwiw, the FAQ and the nifty banners. Signups are through 5/15.

Last but not least: thank you. *beams*
From: [identity profile] heeroluva.livejournal.com
When Jack had asked Ianto, he’d been horrified, and his first reaction had been to say no. However, something in the look that Jack wore, stopped it at the last instant, and the word set heavily on his tongue. He knew that if he said the words Jack would never bring it up again, but knowing Jack that didn’t mean that nothing would come of it. Jack could have gone out and had his fun, and Ianto would have never known, never been the wiser. But Jack had come to him, and actually asked first, taken Ianto’s feeling into consideration.

Ianto knew that Jack was from a different time where the social and sexual norms were far different than they were here in the twenty first century. Jack had only shared a little of it with him, and Ianto hadn’t pushed as it was obviously a painful subject. Monogamy was a rare thing in Jack’s time, and Ianto knew that he’d tried, had tried for years, but Jack just wasn’t wired for it, had too much to give to stay with one person. It wasn’t just the sex. They had plenty of that, and it was wonderful. But it was the lack of connection with others. He knew that Jack was mildly telepathic, felt the connection when they were together. Jack was content when they were together, but Ianto could still feel it when they weren’t, feel that Jack was starving with the need for more.

Twenty first century humans didn’t have the brain development yet to form the bonds that Jack so craved, not even Ianto with his off-the-chart-for-the-time psi scores. In normal circumstances Jack would have had bonds with his entire team, known them all intimately. Sadly Jack had learned the hard way that he couldn’t have that, that people were horrified by the thought of it, so Jack had stopped asking.

Ianto didn’t know what it had cost Jack to ask him, but he couldn’t throw it back in Jack’s face. It wasn’t an unheard of situation, but it was still frowned upon. Ianto had never given it much thought, just knowing that monogamy was expected and went with it. Thinking on the subject, it didn’t seem so horrible as long as Jack still came home to him.

“Yes,” Ianto finally answer, voice even and clear before he allowed himself to change his mind.

The look of shock on Jack’s face tore through him. Jack had really thought he’d say no, and he couldn’t help but wonder how many times Jack had received that answer in the past, if he’d even asked at all.

“Yes, Jack,” Ianto repeated again. “But—“ Jack tensed at the word. “I want you to come home to me, I want to hear about it.”

The shocked laughed and look of joy that stole across Jack’s face was worth it. A knowing leer quickly replaced it as he leaned forward to whisper hotly in his ear, “I knew you were a dirty boy.”

“And I’m all yours, sir. Maybe I’ll let you bring someone home someday to join us.”

Jack let out another delighted laugh, a sound that Ianto didn’t often hear, and he made a note to try to get it to happen more. “I don’t think you’re quite ready for that, yet.”

Ianto made quick work of the buttons on Jack’s shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. “Then why don’t you show me what I am ready for, sir.”

Jack did just that.
From: [identity profile] rubynye.livejournal.com
Oh my goodness! One-- thank you so much for writing a story for me! Two -- what a story! I love how well they mesh and how Jack expands Ianto's universe. Thank you!
From: [identity profile] heeroluva.livejournal.com
Yay! So happy you liked it. I forgot how much I like writing Torchwood. :)
From: [identity profile] hitlikehammers.livejournal.com
There’s no time to think about it, no time for second-guessing or prevarication. They’ve caught her out, plain and simple, and as she casually adjusts the collar of her blouse -- keeps it high enough to hide the place where her pulse might show, stark and hard at the throat -- she knows that there’s no choice in the matter, no way that she can spare him and still get out of this alive, with her reputation in tact.

And the worst thing -- the best thing, the thing she fell in love with -- is that when she looks at him, when she meets his eyes and stares them down, blank and stoic: she can see what they’re both hiding, what they’ve both masked so well, and she knows that he knows, she knows that he’s ready; and while he wouldn’t do the same, could never do the same -- because he’s him and she’s her, and they were were always strange complements, really; never quite a matching pair -- he never expected any less from her, never expected anything else but this.

She chambers a round, and fires. Three times.

If he loves her like she thinks he does, he’ll understand.
From: [identity profile] circ-bamboo.livejournal.com

"Are you sure about this?" Cait asked for about the eleventh time. "I mean," she added, and this part was new, "are you sure the door is secure?"


"You should have asked about that before you had three fingers up my ass," Chris said, his voice low and gravelly. His elbows were on the desk in front of him—his desk, in his ready room—and his back was sheened with sweat, skin flushed with arousal.


Cait twisted the aforementioned fingers and Chris groaned, his head pillowed on One's thigh as she sat on his desk, her uniform skirt rucked up around her waist, underwear long since gone. "Just asking," Cait said, and leaned down to lick at the sweat at the base of his spine, just above the curve of his ass. She couldn't resist sinking her teeth in, though, since it was right there and delicious and she knew he'd like it.


Which he did, groaning again and clenching around her. "Do it, Cait," he said. "God. Please. Just do it."


Ahhh, she had him begging. Finally. She pulled her fingers out of him, grabbed the lube, and slicked up her condom-covered cock—silicone and other engineered materials and held on via straps, but hers nonetheless. The first time Chris had seen it, he'd sunk to his knees and swallowed her down whole, and she'd just about come on the spot, thanks to the neural interface. Whoever had designed it—the Orions, maybe—was a genius, Cait had thought then and still thought now. What better than a strap-on that linked into one’s nerve endings via conductive gel? She could feel every touch on the silicone as if it were her physical body. They'd made good use of it since then, in Chris, in One, and, a couple of times, in Chris while he was in One, although that was more difficult to choreograph.


This, though—Cait bending Chris over his own desk, his mouth between One's legs—this, they'd planned in advance, down to the box Cait was standing on to mitigate the height difference, and the fact that Cait and One were still wearing skirted uniforms while Chris was stripped to the skin. That last was One's contribution, and the look on her face as she stared down the line of Chris's spine at Cait was absolutely worth it.


It wasn't perfect—they'd forgotten the lube, of all things, and prep had taken long enough that One had had to go relieve herself in the attached bathroom—but for enactment of a fantasy, well, it was close.


Cait held the base of the cock with one hand and Chris's hip with the other and pressed just barely inside him, feeling him hot and tight around her. It was her turn to groan, but she waited until Chris shoved his hips back an inch or two, begging with his body as clearly as he had with his voice. "Hold your horses," she said, and leaned over him, pushing inside so slowly, feeling him stretch and relax around her.


"Fuuuuuuuuck," Chris breathed.


Cait couldn't see his face, but he didn't tell her to stop, so she kept pushing, kept pressing inside him, slowly. She could, however, see One's face, see how One couldn't keep her eyes in one place, flitting between Cait's breasts, Chris's ass, and the top of his head, pressing against her hip even as he pushed back against Cait. One threaded her fingers into Chris's hair, right at the back of his neck where it had started to form small sweat-soaked curls.


Finally, Cait's hips met Chris's rear, and she was seated all the way inside him. God. She loved this, loved their bodies, loved that the three of them fit together in so many ways. Loved the way One looked at Chris—loved it even more when the look was aimed at her, as it was now.


"Move," One said, quietly, and Chris's head shifted against her—he was nodding quickly.


"Okay," Cait said, and her voice was breathy and not at all how she thought she sounded. "If you insist." She pulled out, still slowly, and Chris groaned again.


"Cait," he said, just a hint of a whine in his tone. "More. Now, damnit. That's an order."

From: [identity profile] circ-bamboo.livejournal.com

"No, it's not," Cait said, and squeezed his hips harder. "Besides, isn't there something you're supposed to be doing?"


Chris laughed, a low dirty chuckle, and shifted over an inch or two until he was centered over One. Cait could just barely hear wet sucking sounds over her own heartbeat in her ears, and watched One's eyes close.


Chris shifted his weight, not much, and Cait blinked, sliding back in and withdrawing again. Even just this much was overwhelming—hell, Chris or One alone even without the desk was overwhelming. She bit her lip and kept up her steady pace. The good news was that the cock was silicone and would remain hard even if she came, but that was cheating, at least in her mind, so it was still a race against time.


Cait twisted her hips just a bit; they'd done this before, she and Chris, but she didn't know his body as well as she wished she did, and finding the right angle was—


Chris's hips jerked, and his head flew up, shoulders heaving. "Yes," he said, voice strained. "Right there."


—sometimes really easy. She'd always been surprisingly good at kinesthetic memory—it was the only reason she ever beat One at null-G ball—and set her body to remember right there, even while backing off. No sense in making this end early. One grabbed Chris's head by the hair and pushed him back into position, and Cait grinned. From the looks of it, he'd stopped at a rather sensitive moment. On the other hand, it was her fault. Maybe she'd make it up to One later.


Although maybe she wouldn't have to. Not more than a couple minutes later, One appeared to be back where she'd been before Chris had gotten distracted. Her face was stained red over the cheekbones, and although she was still mostly dressed, Cait knew her upper chest would be stained red, too. She'd squeezed her eyes shut, and her chest was heaving, muscles in her arms and legs flexing rhythmically. Cait kept her rhythm in Chris as steady as possible, not to distract him again, and she was rewarded with One letting out a harsh breath with a faint sigh at the end of it.


Shuddering for a couple moments, One leaned forward and braced herself on Chris's shoulders. God, the sight of her—! Cait wanted to dive into One's arms and slide her fingers inside her, feeling the slick wetness of Chris's saliva mixed with One's arousal. Digging her nails into Chris's hips again, she thrust inside him, back at the angle that would make him shudder, just like that. It was a little faster, a little harder than she'd been pushing before, maybe a little harder than she wanted to but she was starting to feel the ache in her midsection transmuting into the fire that meant that she was close.


But damnit, she couldn't finish before he did. "Chris," she said, gasping. "Tell me what you need."


"More." It wasn't really anything other than a plea. "Please. Fuck, Cait . . ."


"More what?" Cait asked. Her concentration fractured almost instantly; she had Captain Christopher Fucking Pike bent over his desk and moaning for her to fuck him and more and god how was she supposed to hang on through this?


"I don't—just—oh god Cait just—oh right there—fuck, yes—"


The muscles under Cait's hands stiffened even as he clenched around her and let out a harsh, "Ahh."


Oh thank fuck, Cait thought, because goddamnit, she had so—little—control—left—


"Yes!" she cried out, as the fire exploded inside her and she slumped, still quivering, against Chris's back.


She barely had enough time to catch her breath before Chris's knees gave out. She felt them buckle as he said, "Cait, I can't—"


"No, that's fine—we'll just—"


They didn't tumble to the floor, but they did detangle, laughing, to slump against the wall. One slithered off the desk, also unsteady, and dropped to the floor as well.


"I am never going to be able to do work in here again," Chris said, rubbing his fingers over a suspicious stain on the carpet. He shifted a bit and sighed.


"Somehow I suspect you're okay with that," One said, and he nodded vigorously.


Cait just giggled.

From: [identity profile] rubynye.livejournal.com
OH MY GOD.

OH MY GOD.

OH MY GOD!

I do believe I screamed at "You should have asked about that before you had three fingers up my ass," Chris said, his voice low and gravelly. and I did not stop shrieking whatsoever. Eeeeee, THANK YOU! EEEEE!
From: [identity profile] circ-bamboo.livejournal.com
So I, uh, take it you enjoyed it. ;) You're welcome, and thanks!

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