34. “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed.”
When Owen stepped out of the shower, skin rosy and clean and naked but for the towel wrapped around his waist, Kathryn moved to swap places with him, hanging her robe by the door and walking towards the sonic shower. Owen’s eyes roamed her naked body as she passed and Kathryn felt a shiver of excitement run up her spine.
He gave her hip a squeeze and he leaned in for a kiss. It started out chastely, what could have been a quick kiss of affection as they went about starting their day. But she didn’t pull away and he kissed her again, mouth hungry for the taste of her.
Kathryn finally pulled back, just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark with desire; his gaze was full of the same hunger she’d felt in his kiss. “If you keep looking at me like that, we won’t make it to a bed,” she whispered. Her voice was breathy and low and Owen just smiled as he began to push her back towards the shower.
“I hope that’s not a problem.”
He kissed her and she kissed back, suddenly unable to keep their hands off one another. When she backed into the shower door, Owen lifted her into his arms and carried her inside. “Owen!” she gasped, wrapping her legs around him automatically. Then his mouth was on hers again and she kissed him back hungrily. She hit the wall and he leaned into her, trapping her between his body and the wall of the sonic shower. His cock dug into her hip and desire tightened in her stomach.
“Not a problem at all.”
Send me a prompt and a pairing and I’ll write you a drabble.
@jhelenoftrek said #I WANT THE REST OF THIS STORY! but instead she gets the prequel :)
The Art of Diplomacy
He’d been on some weird away missions, but Tom Paris was pretty sure this one took the cake – or in this case, the jhelen. At least, he thought that was what this sweet, gooey substance was called. Someone had shoved a bowl of it into his hands; he’d sampled a little and almost been knocked off his feet by the sugar rush.
Or maybe it was the alien liquor their hosts had been plying the Voyager representatives with all evening. He’d caught Chakotay surreptitiously tipping the contents of his glass into a flower arrangement more than once, and Harry had already had to excuse himself after over-indulging. Tom had been pacing himself, but even he was feeling a little woozy.
He wondered what was taking B'Elanna so long. She’d been grumbling all night that the gold body paint and feathered headdress all the Voyager women had been instructed to wear were itchy as hell, and that this was the last time she was going to let Chakotay talk her into one of these stupid diplomatic events, and then she’d mumbled something about checking in with Engineering and disappeared.
Tom sighed. She wasn’t wrong about the paint, although the Jessian who’d applied his body art had been kind enough to add some shadowing that made him look as ripped as Ayala, and at least the pants they’d given him to wear were feather-free. B'Elanna had certainly been appreciative when she’d met him after the dressing ritual, and he’d noticed the captain ogling Chakotay even less subtly than usual.
He scanned the crowd again; B'Elanna was nowhere to be seen. Most of the Voyagers seemed to have made their excuses, though he spotted Chakotay with his head bent toward the captain’s, leaning against a pillar. Janeway looked pretty hot, he admitted privately. She carried off the sparkles and feathers and skimpy outfit almost as well as B'Elanna did.
Speaking of whom… turning, Tom caught sight of his girlfriend at last. She was out on the terrace, her back turned. As he watched, her hand came up to scratch at her shoulder, and he read annoyance in her stance.
Time to get out of here, he decided, and pushed through the crowd.
She didn’t turn as he came up behind her. “Hey, you,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her from behind and nuzzling into her neck. “I’ve been thinking about peeling you out of that dress all night. Let’s go home so I can rip it off with my teeth,” and he turned her, dragging his lips across her jaw until he reached her mouth.
Her lips parted and he took advantage, sliding his tongue across her lower lip. Her hands came up to his chest and for a moment it seemed like she was going to push him away, but he stroked his hands down her back and she made a small sound and tilted her head, her lips softening.
She felt different, he realised. Tasted different, too. Maybe it was the paint…
And then she pulled back with a gasp, bracing her hands on his chest, and he looked into her eyes.
Eyes that were not velvety-brown, but blue. A blue that, as he continued to stare at her, was rapidly turning glacial.
The owner of the eyes spoke in a voice at once frosty and husky.
“Lieutenant Paris,” she said, “I strongly suggest you take your hands off me before you find yourself a permanent resident of my brig.”
He dropped his arms as if burned and hastily stepped back. “Ca- Captain?”
Janeway put her hands on her hips.
“But I just saw you talking to Chakotay – I thought you were B'Elanna –” Tom whipped around to search the room behind him and let out a squeak.
Standing in the open terrace doorway, face like thunder, was Chakotay.
“Fuck,” blurted Tom.
“Paris,” Chakotay growled.
“Uh…” Tom cowered. “Where’s B'Elanna?”
Chakotay pointed upward. “And I suggest you go after her. You have some explaining to do.”
Tom didn’t need to be asked twice. Fishing his combadge out of his pants pocket, he whispered, “Paris to Voyager. One to beam up. Right now.”
As the transporter beam caught him, the last thing he saw was Chakotay turning that angry black stare on the captain.
29. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?
@purpledog47’s Surfacing! I’m very good at just taking fics at face value but every now and then I get the urge to create my own head canons…I’m pretty sure I left at least one longs comment with how I imagine the story to continue on ao3 (if only I could remember which one…).Surfacing makes me want to write a proper ending for J/C though…and I’m sure you know what I mean with proper…😉
13. What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?
Use a beta reader? I’m actually guilty of not listening to general writing advice most of the time, but using someone else for initial readings and beta readings has come to be of utmost importance to me.
Also, letting my writing rest for a bit (not too long or you’ll lose the feel of the story) and then have another look at it. Especially once it’s finished. But at some point, let it go. You’ll always find something to fix if you look hard enough. I have a hard time with letting my writing rest and then picking it back up though. I either get it out in a rush and send it out into the ether, or I put it aside and it starts to get mold…
3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?
Bukkake and/or Incest…wait, are those actual tropes? Let’s see if I can find an actual trope…I’m not big on Mary Sues, probably because I have read so many horribly written Mary Sues…
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
FIC REC - read it PEOPLE!
I was trolling through AO3 on a Saturday evening because, evidently, I have no life at the moment other than to read and write fic, and I came across this little beauty again by @jhelenoftrek.
I know, I know, it’s not “JC”, but it has everything you want in a fic! Firstly, Ayala is a way under-appreciated member of Voyager. He’s cute, funny, and adorably awkward and shy. He is the ultimate nice guy who is instantly smitten with a total babe who can read him like a book. He’s out of his depth, and he absolutely does not care.
The romance is set up in such a way that draws you into their story, their feels and their lives. You know how it’s going to end but a whole lotta shit is going to go down in the middle. And oh, it hurts.
And then... there is Chakotay. Oh, Chakotay. He's brilliant. The ultimate “best-bud”. He’s a smart-arse, he’s adorable, he’s strong and he’s also a bit of an idiot. I wanna be his friend. I wanna be in his clique, and I absolutely wanna see more of him. He’s the type of guy that’s too cool to get bogged down in romances, and he is the perfect character to play off a smitten Ayala.
I cannot rave about this enough. It’s going to be part of a wonderful series that I absolutely cannot wait for. So, READ IT PEOPLE! Love Ayala and Pre-Voyager Chakotay as much as I do!
“That feeling when you realize your dissertation will have fewer words...”
Good luck @mollybecameanengineer What is your dissertation on and what kind of engineer are you? (if I may ask? I'm of the aerospace variety).
I’m a mechanical engineer, though I primarily work in heat transfer and combustion.
My dissertation is making computer models of thermally decomposing polyurethane foam in a sealed can.
It’s a (currently) 106 page, action packed account of how a lone can, in a world full of fires, internally breaks down, causing pressure until it reaches its fracture stress and explodes in a heap of flammable gases. Side plots include: is the char in the can really structured enough to support the use of Darcy’s law for flow through a porous media? If this polyurethane foam is closed celled, then why did you give it a permeability? And, can you really use the diffuse radiation approximation for the char phase?
