When civies ask, Sam and Dean only hunt deer. When other hunters ask, they only hunt monsters. The Winchester brothers don’t like to share the fact that every once and a while, they’ll rent a cabin out in the woods and hunt each other.
Warnings: consensual roleplay of a nonconsensual situation, some spanking, dom/sub, bondage, desperation.
Collab with threat!anon!
It’s probably the nicest restaurant Dean’s ever been to. A fancy place with multiple courses and a dress code for patrons, scarily polite waiters in waistcoats and the most overpriced menu Dean has ever seen. Benny doesn’t seem concerned about it, just orders a bottle of expensive red wine to go with their steaks and spends most of the night looking over the moon, head over heels in love.
Dean will never get tired of Benny looking at him like that.
It’s a pretty romantic way to spend their third anniversary. Dean almost feels a little bad that he had to go and dirty it up with this idea of his, but Benny seemed completely on board when Dean had told him about the vibrating plug secured snugly in his hole. He’d looked fucking hungry when Dean mentioned the remote control that he’d slipped in to Benny’s jacket pocket, and at that point Dean was pretty sure that dinner would be something to remember.
Except Benny hasn’t used it, not once, the entire night. For the first half of their dinner Dean had gotten increasingly anxious and excited about it, shifting every few minutes just to feel the tug of the plug against the stretched, lube-slick rim of his hole. By the time the dessert menus came around, he’d stopped expecting it. Maybe Benny isn’t really in to the whole public thing, Dean thinks absently, and pretty much accepts that it won’t happen during dinner.
Dean is feeling pretty comfortable, starting on his third glass of wine and taking his first bite of blueberry crumble, when the plug starts to vibrate. He’s so startled that he drops his fork on to the plate and grips the edge of the table, jaw going slack at the low buzz that thrums through him and the painfully fast way his cock stiffens in his dress pants.
“Jesus fuck,” Dean breathes shakily, face flushing a deep shade of pink when he sees Benny’s smug grin.
“Everythin’ alright there?” Benny asks calmly, swirling the wine around in his glass. His other hand is conveniently hidden underneath the table, probably running his thumb over the button the sets the speed.
Dean just makes a face at him and tries to go back to eating his dessert, but quickly realizes that there’s no possible way he can focus on anything anymore. The plug starts vibrating at a higher speed, and Dean is trembling and breathing hard because he can feel it all through his pelvis, his thighs, and straight through his cock. Maybe he should have bought something less powerful, because fuck that thing is packing some serious punch that Dean wasn’t ready for.
When their waiter walks by, Dean snaps, “Can we get the fucking check?” and ignores the warm laughter from Benny’s side of the table.
If it was hard to walk with a plug in his ass before, walking with a vibrating plug in his ass is nearly impossible. “Oh shut up,” he says good-naturedly when Benny laughs even harder while helping Dean to the car, unable to even walk in a straight line since Benny set the fucking thing on high.
Dean squirms in the seat the whole way home, cock proudly stretching the front of his pants and leaking a wet spot through his underwear. He’s nothing if not stubborn as hell, so when Benny asks him if he needs a break, he shakes his head and closes his eyes until the car stops in their driveway.
Benny might be a few inches shorter, but he’s got the bulk and solid muscle to put Dean where he wants him. Dean is so torn apart by the time the car door opens that he’s willingly gathered up into Benny’s thick arms and carried in to the house, barely able to keep his legs wrapped around Benny’s waist and completely incapable of stopping himself from rutting against the slight swell of Benny’s belly.
“Shh,” Benny soothes as he closes the front door with his foot and carries Dean in to the living room. “You’re alright.”
Dean didn’t even realize he’d been pretty much whimpering until Benny points it out, but he doesn’t care. When Benny sits them down on the sofa with Dean straddling his lap, he lifts up to meet Benny in a desperate, open-mouthed kiss, arching in to the caress of Benny’s hands over his shoulders and back. Benny pulls away after a few moments, presses their foreheads together and whispers, “You’re everythin’ important to me. I love you.”
“Love you too,” Dean mumbles back, eyes suspiciously wet when Benny cups his face in his palms. “Please.”
Benny knows exactly what to do, and Dean will never get tired of that, either.
A lengthy but informative article…
Today we found out that Tamiflu doesn’t work so well after all. Roche, the drug company behind it, withheld vital information on its clinical trials for half a decade, but the Cochrane Collaboration, a global not-for-profit organisation of 14,000 academics, finally obtained all the information. Putting the evidence together, it has found that Tamiflu has little or no impact on complications of flu infection, such as pneumonia.
That is a scandal because the UK government spent £0.5bn stockpiling this drug in the hope that it would help prevent serious side-effects from flu infection. But the bigger scandal is that Roche broke no law by withholding vital information on how well its drug works. In fact, the methods and results of clinical trials on the drugs we use today are still routinely and legally being withheld from doctors, researchers and patients. It is simple bad luck for Roche that Tamiflu became, arbitrarily, the poster child for the missing-data story…
…. So does Tamiflu work? From the Cochrane analysis – fully public – Tamiflu does not reduce the number of hospitalisations. There wasn’t enough data to see if it reduces the number of deaths. It does reduce the number of self-reported, unverified cases of pneumonia, but when you look at the five trials with a detailed diagnostic form for pneumonia, there is no significant benefit. It might help prevent flu symptoms, but not asymptomatic spread, and the evidence here is mixed. It will take a few hours off the duration of your flu symptoms. But all this comes at a significant cost of side-effects. Since percentages are hard to visualise, we can make those numbers more tangible by taking the figures from the Cochrane review, and applying them. For example, if a million people take Tamiflu in a pandemic, 45,000 will experience vomiting, 31,000 will experience headache and 11,000 will have psychiatric side-effects. Remember, though, that those figures all assume we are only giving Tamiflu to a million people: if things kick off, we have stockpiled enough for 80% of the population. That’s quite a lot of vomit.