Friday Free For All

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Welcome to another weekend, boys and girls, and that means it's time for another Free For All! Any fandom or crossover, any pairing or grouping, any prompt is game.



A couple of quick notes before we get started:

-Don't forget that this Sunday is the start of the first Quarterly Contest! It's going to run March 22 - March 28, with 2 months paid time as a prize. Go here to review what the contest categories are, and stay tuned to get started.

-Thank you to everyone that answered the poll and left comments the other day. We're processing what you've had to say and figuring out which changes we want to make. But we're already making one! Saturday will no longer be a Free For All day. So be sure to swing by tomorrow and participate in our first Saturday Lonely Prompt Day!



And now back to our regular Friday goodness:

Just remember to be kind to our lovely code monkeys and code your prompts properly: Fandom, Pairing, Prompt.

Examples:
Supernatural, Sam/Dean, flat tire

Leverage/Burn Notice, Eliot Spencer/Michael Westen, feel the burn


Are none of the prompts biting? Go here and check out our Lonely Prompt Indexes. There's a lot, after all - a little something for everyone!

Have a happy Friday guys!

Comments

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Sam/Dean, flat tire

[ravensword.livejournal.com]

"Remind me again why we don't have a spare tire?"

"No room." Dean says, gesturing at the trunk full of weapons."

He seems entirely too casual about it, leaning against the bumper, sipping on a beer.

"And how long until Bobby gets here?"

Dean shrugs. "Couple hours."

"Gonna get hot." Sam observes, squinting up at the sky.

Dean's lips curl up in a smile as he tosses his empty bottle. "Oh yeah, Sammy, it's gonna get all kinds of hot."

Sam has about three seconds to react before Dean's got him pinned to the side of the car, his hand on Sam's cock through his jeans.

"Dean, we could be seen." Sam's protest is mostly hollow as evidenced by his hardening cock.

Dean's lips nip at his neck as his hands work Sam's zipper open. "No one's coming down this road but you Sammy."

Dean's hand works over him until Sam is just about ready to come, and when Sam huffs in frustration, Dean laughs. "We got time to kill Sammy, don't want to peak too early."

Sam grabs his brother, turning them so it's Dean who's pinned against the car. His knee presses in against Dean's own hard cock, rubbing him until Dean lets out something that might have been a moan, if Dean let himself moan at moments like this.

"Well then, big brother, strap in..." He pulls the packet of lube out of his pocket and holds it up with a grin. "Cause unlike you, I came prepared."

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Leverage/Burn Notice, Eliot Spencer/Michael Westen, feel the burn

[havenward.livejournal.com]

It's a long day after the night before. My head's still ringing from Fi's explosives. From Fi not being there when I woke up.

Black eye's not helping either.

I motion to the bartender for another round. Whiskey's got a good bite to it. For just a moment you can forget everything else besides the way it burns on the way down, warming you from the inside out when you're nothing but numb.

"Bit early for that, ain't it?" I turn slowly, carefully, and doing my best not to wince. Eliot Spencer. Maybe today won't be so shitty after all. He takes one look at me and raises an eyebrow before taking the stool next to mine. "Next round's on me."

[elebridith]

Leverage/L.A. Confidential, Eliot/Bud White, damsel in distress

since somebody had to get me started on a new 'verse

[asimaiyat.livejournal.com]

(sorry this got off-prompt, my imagination ran away with me!)

[b]Ruthless Men In Love[/b], Eliot/Bud, Ellroy!verse

Chinatown, December 1949:
Bud hears the call on the police band and arrives on the scene of a domestic dispute. Spencer got there first. It should be his collar. White's messy drunk at 4:30 in the afternoon, ranting about woman-bashers. Spencer hates drunks. When he tries to stop White outside the house, the asshole slugs him in the face. Bad move. It's Lieutenant Ford who ends up standing in the right place to pull one out-of-control enforcer off the other before one of them needs hospital leave and the other one lands a suspension.

West Hollywood, February 1950:
Ellis Loew throws a shindig to celebrate his new DA job, invites all his favorite cops. Hard men and poker faces wall-to-wall, nice suits fitting awkwardly over bulging muscles and holsters. Eliot avoids the other Mobster Squad men, figuring he'll spare everyone the awkwardness of being between himself and White. Hovering around the bar, he catches a weird moment: Dudley Smith and Nate Ford, way too close for comfort. Ford's eyes flash hate, Dudley laughs edgy, takes a step back. Scary Lieutenant Smith, running scared from a has-been vice cop drinking his way to an early retirement? No way. This, thinks Spencer, has got to be something big.

The station house, May 1950:
Spencer gets an inter-departmental memo from Lieutenant Ford, summoning him to his office. Weird; he's never worked vice and doesn't plan to. Ford's sitting behind his desk looking smug, that same flash of a smile that spooked Smith at the party.

"So, Sergeant Spencer, how do you like working with Dudley Smith?"

"It's alright, sir. Mobster Squad is a good fit for my abilities."

"I've heard you boys get used pretty rough. I've heard that you're losing your taste for it."

"I don't know where you've heard that, Lieutenant. Nobody needs to worry about whether I can handle myself, understand?"

"Nobody's worried about you, Tex. I just thought you might be open to some more, let's say, creative use of your abilities. And the chance to prove that you're more than what Dudley uses you for."

"... sir?" Eliot's brows raised.

Ford grinned. Like a shark. SCARY. "I've got a year left before they force me out of this fishtank, and I'm going to use it to take down Smith. But I'm going to need you to help me. This is your chance to be more than just another strongarm boy, Spencer. Take it."

"I'm intrigued, really, sir. But what's in it for me?"

"Anything you want. I'm owed a lot of favors around here, and before I burn them all down I'll use all the juice I've got to get you promoted wherever suits your fancy. There's just one thing you're going to have to agree to."

"Anything I want, huh? So what's the catch?"

"You're going to have to work with Bud White. Closely."

Shit.

[elebridith]

Leverage/Angel, Eliot/Spike, "Keep your teeth away!"

[havenward.livejournal.com]

"I don't know who the hell you think I am, but if you come near me one more time with those damn teeth I swear on my mama this stake is goin' through your heart!" Eliot shouts. He's pissed, understandably so. Fucking hates L.A., and goddamn he's never been so pleased they had to blow their offices. Maybe they can move them somewhere nicer. More comfortable. Brighter. Like Hawaii. Or Bora Bora.

The guy un-vamps, or whatever the hell they call it and Eliot lowers the stake. But only a little. The punk frowns, leans in, and fucking smells him.

"You're not Lindsey," he says, eyes narrowing.

Eliot nearly stakes him for his stupidity. "That's what I've been tryin' to tell you!"


:giggles madly and wanders off:

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Nate/Hardison, burying

Leverage Nate/Hardison, Burying

[yanzadracan.livejournal.com]

In a small cemetery outside Lexington, Kentucky four people stood over a plain marker set next to two other non-descript markers.

‘Eliot Spencer, 1974 – 2010, Beloved’ was all that was printed on the marker.

Sophie dabbed a tear with a fine linen handkerchief. Hardison stood brushing against Nate. Parker leaned against Hardison digging the toe of her tennis shoe into the dirt.

A shiver ran through Nate’s wiry frame as he looked at the marker.

“I’m going back to the hotel.” Nate spun around and headed for the car. “Hardison.” He barked as he grabbed the hacker’s wrist.

Sophie huffed in frustration as her heels punched through the sod.

“Told you to wear real shoes.” Parker sassed as she helped steady the clothes horse.

“I wanted to show the proper respect.” Sophie pointed out.

“You could have showed up naked, Eliot wouldn’t care.” Parker skipped to catch up with Nate and Hardison.

The two men leaned against the sedan, Nate’s face buried in Hardison’s neck. He straightened and slid behind the wheel as the women climbed in the back.

At the hotel, the call of the bar was strong, but Nathan Ford buried himself in the body of his youngest lover, instead of the bottle, to ease the ache of the one who wasn’t there.

On the plane back to Portland, Hardison kept Nate from being tempted by the pretty bottles with gravity. As soon as the plane was in the air, Hardison fell asleep against Nate, pinning him against the plane’s bulkhead. Burying Eliot had been a strain on the whole team. Parker hadn’t even tried to steal anything.

It was a subdued group that scattered at Portland’s airport. Alec and Nate returned to the loft the two men shared with Eliot, while Sophie tugged Parker into a cab.

Neither man had not spoken more than a few words since leaving to bury Eliot Spencer. Now they quietly stripped off their clothes and climbed into the king sized bed carefully reaching for the bruised and battered body sleeping there.

Burying themselves in each other’s bodies, they celebrated the birth of Eliot S. Hawkson.

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Being Human, George/Mitchell, sting

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Mitchell hurriedly pulls on his coat as he rushes for the door. There's been some kind of an emergency -- some kind of a vampire attack at the hospital, from what George can gather. George follows him down the stairs, grabbing his own jacket and heading toward the door.

Mitchell turns and stops him, a troubled frown creasing his brow as he shakes his head. "No, stay here," he commands sharply. "I'll do better at dealing with this if I don't have to worry about making sure you're okay."

George stands frozen in the doorway as Mitchell disappears into the darkness. He can't pretend that the words don't sting. He nurses his wounds in petulant silence for a few moments -- dismissed and disregarded as unnecessary in the battle Mitchell's about to fight -- before making a decision.

If something happens to Mitchell, and he's not there, he'll never forgive himself.

Mitchell will have his help, whether he wants it or not.

He finds Mitchell surrounded by a half dozen other vampires -- wounded and quickly weakening. George is only able to create a distraction, throwing himself into the midst of the fray haphazardly -- but it's enough. Mitchell regains the upper hand, and the two of them head home. Mitchell's subdued and quiet, and finally... apologetic.

And the sting in George's heart fades away into the glow of vindication.

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, reign

[bentrumors.livejournal.com]

Arthur carefully untangled himself from Merlin and slipped from the bed.

“Where are you going?” Merlin mumbled, reaching for him again.

“Some of us have duties to perform,” Arthur replied, neatly sidestepping Merlin’s roving hands to dress.

“Nobody has anything to do at this hour. Come back to bed.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Did you just give me an order?”

Merlin was unrepentant, snatching the shirt form Arthur’s hands. “Yes.” He kicked the blankets down and spread his legs in a most obscene and tempting invitation. “Now come say good morning properly and be very thorough, Sire.”

Arthur dutifully obeyed.

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Heroes, Claire/Monica, blame

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who/Torchwood, Donna/Tosh, warm

[ravensword.livejournal.com]

RPS, Jeffrey Dean Morgan/Chris Kane, rug burn

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Chris tries to arc his back off the ground, to reduce the friction there as much as to press closer to Jeff. The rug hurts, rubbing the skin of his shoulders and ass a little raw, and he whimper moans as Jeff continues to pound him into the floor. He whines a little when Jeff just pushes him back.

"Stay where I put you boy," Jeff growls in his ear. He puts one big hand against his chest to hold him down and thrusts harder, deeper.

Chris writhes under his grip but stays put, hips jerking in a vain attempt to match Jeff's rhythm. The burn mingles with the pleasurepain until it tears his orgasm from him with a shout, spilling all over himself and Jeff.

[danniisupernova.livejournal.com]

Bones, Zack/Angela - chance

[danniisupernova.livejournal.com]

Battlestar Galactica, Boomer/Chief - taxonomy

[danniisupernova.livejournal.com]

Bones, Hodgins/Brennan - lights

Trauma Patients

[guiltyreasons.livejournal.com]

The lights in his eyes had gone off. It was like the suffocation in the car had taken all of his joy away. She'd never seen him like that.

Hodgins wasn't a happy person by nature. He didn't go out of his way to look perky, but he was definitely more alive inside than he was right now.

Brennan walked into his where he was sleeping. A chair was turned and facing the window. She'd bet he'd sat in it all day. It was a logical outlook. See the world outside so you know it's there. She wondered if he woke up with the same dreams of the windows being covered in sand.

She crawled into his bed knowing it wasn't allowed,but they weren't sick anymore. They were trauma patients and whatever they needed for comfort should be allowed.

"Bones?" he asked a bit shocked.

"Hodgins," she said running a hand through his hair in the dark of the hospital room.

"What are you...?" he asked his wide, dark eyes staring at her confused and a touch startled.

"I want to take care of you," she said putting her arms around him, "And be taken care of."

"Me too," he said kissing her forehead. It felt good, so she leaned over and kissed him gently. She pulled back a moment later and saw his eyes alight with surprise and delight.

"Physical contact eases the-"

"Shh shh, don't mess this up with analysis. Let's just let it happen," Hodgins said putting his lps back on hers to keep her quiet

[saavikam77.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Anna/Castiel, faith

Supernatural, Anna/Castiel, faith- Spoilers for 3/19 episode)

[jainot.livejournal.com]

"Uriel was my brother." Castiel was sitting on the bench at the park, staring at the snowcovered swing set.

"Yes, he was," Anna said walking up from behind him. She didn't need to ask how he knew she was there. He had always known when she was close by.

"I believed that he and I served our Father together."

"He served his own purpose," she replied, reaching out and resting a hand on his shoulder in a familiar gesture.

"I do not know where that leaves me. How can I serve without knowing my orders to be true?"

She slipped closer, taking his face in her hands and lifting it so their eyes locked. "Trust in yourself. Trust in my faith in you." Bending down she kissed his forehead, a chaste kiss, an anointment with lipstick and love.

"I am uncertain I can do that," he admitted.

"All I ask is that you try."

[oteap.livejournal.com]

Being Human, George/Mitchell, weed

[kelene.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Merlin/Arthur, nibbling

Inspiration, NC-17.

[kick-flaw.livejournal.com]

"Merlin," Arthur said, lifting his head. "Ah--ummm, ah!"

Merlin tongued the long vein on the underside of Arthur's cock.

"Merlin," Arthur tried again.

Again Merlin ignored him, tugging back Arthur's foreskin and fitting his mouth around the swollen, purple head of his cock. A teasing suck made Arthur clench his fingers in the bed linens.

"Merlin!" Arthur finally snapped.

Merlin rolled his eyes but withdrew. "What?"

Arthur pointed.

By the cupboard was a large, brown rat. Merlin watched for a moment as it nibbled on the leather toe of one of Arthur's favorite riding boots.

"How is that more important than your blowjob?"

"That--THING is EATING THROUGH MY BOOTS, Merlin," Arthur declared in his most thoroughly appalled tone. "You are the worst manservant ever! Go--do something!"

Merlin stared at him.

"Now!"

Instead, Merlin spread his hands on Arthur's abdomen and swallowed his cock all in one go. Arthur cursed as his hips jerked up into the tight wet of Merlin's mouth. Slowly, slowly, Merlin pulled off again, until the tip barely rested on his lower lip. Then, when he knew Arthur was watching, he flashed his teeth.

"Fuck!" Arthur's fingers gripped his hair as Merlin nibbled oh so tenderly along the sensitive ridge where the head met the shaft. "Merlin! Mer--"

Merlin smirked.

[katbcoll.livejournal.com]

SPN, Dean/Sam, teamwork

[morgan-cian.livejournal.com]

Teamwork.

It was knowing when to duck. It was a lift of brow. It was a tossed head. It was a huff of exasperation.

Teamwork.

They didn't need words at time. Just their facial expressions, the light in their eyes said so much.

Teamwork.

It was a dance. Stripping away clothes, against a wall, bent over a sink, spread out on a bed. The motions were practiced and precise.

"Fuck, Sammy. Fuck me."

Teamwork was Sam having Dean on his back, in under five minutes, and getting balls deep in his brother's ass.

[kelene.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, John/Rodney, green

That SHIRT

[guiltyreasons.livejournal.com]

Rodney was glad for the forced day off. He tried not to think about the last one, they had last Carson that day. Besides that it was a good day to relax and the kitchen staff had made cookies in a way of saying sorry for not being able to cook anything that day. It was going to be left overs. The cookies were amazing though.

He was in a casual outfit, a t-shirt and jeans, as were most. It was weird to see the many different outfits instead of the standard two or three walking around the mess hall.

His eyes caught a neon sign and he turned to look at it. To his horror he realizes it wasn't a neon sign at all. It was the blinding green lettering on John's shirt. He winced as the horror came closer.

"What are you wearing?" he demanded when John was in ear shot.

"My favorite shirt. It says 'girls get in for free'. Awesome huh?" John asked pulling it down so he could look at it himself. He actually seemed pleased by the view which puzzled Rodney.

"It's horrible and should be thrown away this instant," he said doing his best not to look at the horrifying green. It almost looked like it was slowing.

"Is not," John said sitting down with his tray full of left overs.

"Yeah it is," Rodney complained. He heard a gruff voice agree from behind him.

"I agree," Ronon said walking calmly over to Sheppard. Sheppard didn't react which was the opening Ronon needed. The larger man easily pulled the offending shirt off John's body and tossed it into the near by compost covering it with day old food.

"Hey!" Rodney said getting up, "I am the only one allowed to rip Sheppard's shirt off!"

It was about then that Rodney realized how loud he had been. John covered his face with his hand and Ronon tilted his head as he contemplated that. The rest of the mess started laughing aloud.

"Well, I guess that's another intimate detail of my life EVERYONE knows," John said picking up his tray and walking out of the cafeteria. Rodney rushed after him, red face and his eyes downcast.

[oteap.livejournal.com]

The Covenant, Tyler/Caleb (in that order), favour

[bwhouwant2b.livejournal.com]

Sorry for the one I posted and deleted. I posted the wrong one. I just gotta find the one I wrote for you for this. I'll find it and post it for you later, promise. :)

[devon99.livejournal.com]

SPN, Sam/Dean, scratch

[takhallus.livejournal.com]

The bedclothes rustled and Sam’s head snapped up. “Dean, I can hear you, I’m right here.”

“I’m not doing anything!” Dean huffed. He was bare ass naked on a motel room bed and hadn’t been allowed to move since Bobby had confirmed the Nesros demon infection and Sammy had hosed him down with the cold shower. He itched all over and there was absolutely no relief, unless Sam fell asleep and he could rub himself raw on the motel room carpet.

“Dean, you either stay still and stop scratching, or I knock you out and stop you that way. You heard Bobby, if you scratch the scales will definitely come up.” Sam went back to his magazine, keeping one eye on his brother.

Dean scrunched up his nose, trying to itch it on the course pillow slip.

“I can hear you! Dean, seriously, stop it.”

“Okay, I want the lotion. That’s it. I want the lotion, I can’t deal with this any more Sammy I ‘m going to shoot myself in the head if this itching keeps up. I want the lotion.”

Sam sighed, reaching for the bottle of camomile lotion and heading for Dean’s bed. “You only had to ask and swallow your stupid pride.” He popped the bottle cap and squeezed a stripe of the white lotion down the length of Dean’s back before massaging it outwards in circles with his palms. “Okay?”

“Hmmm.” Dean hummed as Sam’s hands smoothed the soothing liquid over his shoulders and upper arms. He felt his brother move down to his ass and the backs of his legs which were the most painful. As Sam’s firm fingertips massaged his calves he wondered why he hadn’t asked him to do this before.

“You’re skin’s starting to cool down already Dean, I’m going to put the sheet over you when I’m done or you’ll get cold.” Sam lifted Dean’s leg at the ankle and made circles with his thumbs over the instep of his foot. “You have to promise me you won’t rub against it though. Okay? Dean?.....Dean?”

A tiny snore escaped Dean’s mouth and Sam shook his head as he watched his brother sleep. “Well that’s one way to stop you scratching.”

[devon99.livejournal.com]

Numb3rs, Charlie/Colby, sweat slicked skin

[ravensword.livejournal.com]

There's a thin veneer of sweat over the skin of Colby's back as he moves and Charlie can't help but watch him.

He glances around furtively to make sure no one can see him watching, pretends to read the screen on his computer as the game rages on.

Later, when he finds a reason to disappear, he'll find Colby, after he's showered, dried and dressed, after he's said goodbye to Don and the rest of the team. And Charlie will enjoy watching as Colby's skin starts to shine again, slicked wet with sweat for a completely different reason.

[mariana-oconnor.livejournal.com]

Supernatural/Good Omens, Sam/Crowley, sauntering vaguely downwards

[asimaiyat.livejournal.com]

Oh hell yes. :D Prompt of win and awesome.

[mariana-oconnor.livejournal.com]

Supernatural/Criminal Minds, Dean/Hotch, Interview

[badfalcon.livejournal.com]

oh now this I want to see!

[ravensword.livejournal.com]

The Mentalist, Jayne/author's choice, see through me

[noxnoctisanima.livejournal.com]

Lisbon hated how Jane could see right through her. Could look at how she moved and spoke and pick apart her life, her past, her entire existence. She felt see through, like she could never hide anything and she hated it.

But then he did something miraculous with his abilities and she couldn't hate him any more. He saw through a killer's façade or drew out a detail from a reticent witness or saw a world view from cuts in flesh, and she remembered all over again why she keeps him.

And sometimes it wasn't something professional, sometimes it was cupcake on her desk because he knew she liked them when she was upset or telling her to go home just before she reached the point when the words blurred into one long line.

It was then that she forgot, that she didn't mind being see-through, didn't mind Jane knowing every part of her, because sometimes it was nice to have someone who understood you, even if it's because they can see right through you.

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

Panic at the Disco, Brendon/Jon, made of awesome


Don't even...I know, m'kay? *headdesk*

[siubhlach.livejournal.com]

“Seriously? For me?” Brendon says. His eyes are wide and disbelieving and they keep flickering between Jon and the tiny kitten he’s cradling in his hands, as though he’s half-expecting the kitten to disappear like it was all some cruel joke if he looks away for too long. Jon thinks this is maybe one of the things he loves most about Brendon; sure, Brendon may come across as a spoiled youngest child most of the time, grabby and demanding, but he never really expects it. He hopes but he still kind of expects to be disappointed. Jon’s seen the joyful wonder that flies over Brendon’s face when he gets what he wants and he’s seen the quickly-hidden crestfallen look he gets every single time he doesn’t.

Brendon’s never directed that second look at Jon, not even once. Jon intends to make sure he never has to. He shrugs, “It was you or the pound, B, and I just figured you’d appreciate her more,” he says casually and he has to bite back a smile as Brendon’s whole body curls defensively around the little bundle of fur.

“She’s not going to the pound,” Brendon says fiercely, “She’s too little and it’s too cold and concrete there. It’d be...I don’t know, like animal cruelty or something. She needs hugs and love, Jonny Walker. Hugs and love.” He glances quickly, almost guiltily, over toward the couch where Spencer and Ryan are sprawled, and his forehead creases into a frown. “I mean, right guys? Right?”

Ryan’s not even listening, his nose buried in another one of those bizarre novels that Jon has never heard of, but is now undoubtedly going to hear all about the next time they smoke up. Ryan gets expressive when he’s high. Spencer’s got his I’m working so interrupt me at your own peril face on and is glaring at his laptop as though it has mortally offended him but he makes a vaguely affirmative noise that is enough to smooth the worry straight off Brendon’s face. Jon leans against the doorframe and grins. Ryan and Spencer may play all badass when it comes to facing down the world, but they’re both pretty soft-centred when it comes to Brendon. Plus, it probably didn’t hurt that Jon had already made it clear to both of them just how unhappy he would be if they made this a problem. “Exactly my thoughts. Besides, she’s little enough to fit on the bus. She can be, like, the tour mascot or something.”

This got too long for the comment box, you can find the rest of it here if you want it :D: http://siubhlach.livejournal.com/52710.html?#cutid1