Friday - Free-For-All
Feb. 11th, 2011 06:33 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
monica-catch22.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
comment_ficHey, guys! Happy Friday! Let's start off our free-for all with a refresher on the rules:
Only three posts per fandom, and only five total. If one of your prompts is answered, you may go ahead and post another.
No spoilers for new shows/seasons until a week after airing.
If your fill is spoilery, WARN accordingly and leave enough space for people to pass on by
And for the love of our code monkeys, PLEASE post in the following format
White Collar, Neal/Author's Choice, "you can't cheat an honest man."
Dollhouse/Eureka, Author's Choice, "they are not robots!"
And post!
Only three posts per fandom, and only five total. If one of your prompts is answered, you may go ahead and post another.
No spoilers for new shows/seasons until a week after airing.
If your fill is spoilery, WARN accordingly and leave enough space for people to pass on by
And for the love of our code monkeys, PLEASE post in the following format
White Collar, Neal/Author's Choice, "you can't cheat an honest man."
Dollhouse/Eureka, Author's Choice, "they are not robots!"
And post!
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no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 11:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 11:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 11:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 07:08 pm (UTC)Cam is drinking a beer and looking out of his windows at the rain, when there is a knock on his door. He opens it, and smiles, holds out his arms to embrace a rain-wet John Sheppard and kisses his chilly lips. "Hey, this is a surprise," he says, looking for another kiss; nibbling at the corner of John's mouth where the rain mingles with the taste of his lover.
John places his palms against Cam's chest and pushes him back, gently. "I have to talk to you," he says. Cam knows this isn't good. John, who is seldom serious even in dire situations, is looking a bit pale and spooked.
"What's up?"
John steps inside. He shrugs out of his wet coat and shakes the rain from his hair, running his hand through the rough ends. Cam thinks he's beautiful. He lets John compose himself. "Can I get you something?"
"Coffee?"
That he doesn't want a beer or Scotch is a surprise. "Sure. Sit down and I'll be right there." He goes into the kitchen and nukes a mug of coffee. He hands it to John, who wraps his fingers around the heat gratefully, even though it's not really cold in the condo.
"So?" Cam sits and slides his arm along the back of the couch, inviting John to settle.
John sighs. "So, you like what you do?"
"Best job in the world," Cam says, smiling. He's still concerned, though.
"What do you know about Atlantis?"
Cam feels like he's been punched in the gut. "Shit, John. When you said you'd been offered a position with SGC, I thought you meant ... you know, like me. With me."
"I've got this gene," he says, and tells him the whole story. Antarctica, O'Neill, the chair, Dr. Weir. "I don't know what to do."
Cam thinks of all the answers he could give. The one answer he selfishly wants to give John. Instead he looks into John's eyes, kisses his hand and holds it; wondering if this will be the last time he'll be able to do it. "What do you want to do?" he asks instead.
"There's nothing holding me here," he says, but he's looking into Cam's eyes. "Just one person I'll miss ... and hell, we've got a Stargate, right?" He doesn't tell Cam about the odds against them ever returning to earth, but he expects he knows.
Cam lifts his chin. "Hey, every time I go through the gate I could die. Every time I get into my car, I could die. We've both been in war zones on Earth. What's so damn different about this?"
"It feels like goodbye."
"Maybe." Cam's chest hurts and he can tell from looking at John that he feels it, too. "What do you want," he asks again, gently.
"I don't want to be bored. I want to go through that Gate."
"It would be selfish of me to tell you not to go ... not when I do it every day. It's the biggest rush, ever. It's ... " Cam pauses and threads his fingers through John's, feeling the fine, strong bones. "I'll miss you."
"Yeah." John looks both sad and relieved, like he's made up his mind. "I mean, who knows what we'll find, right? A whole cave of those ZPMs that McKay is always talking about."
"You're taking him with you, right?"
"Yeah." John grins, and Cam's heart lightens at the sound.
"Come back," he says, suddenly fierce as he turns to John and kisses him hard and deep. "Come back to me."
"Hey," John's fingers brush over Cam's short hair. "I'm just a gate address away."
A gate address and a lifetime, Cam thinks. He won't accept that he and John will never be together. He's seen too much to admit that possibility. "How long do you have before you leave?"
"A week at Cheyenne Mountain, then a few days of heavy prep."
Cam nods, relieved. He traces John's lips with his thumb, memorizing every contour, kissing him to remember every taste. He has maybe ten days to memorize and map every inch of John's body, to burn every expression into his memory.
"Let's make the most of it," he says. He stands and holds out his hand. He pulls John to his feet and they head to the bedroom, wrapped around each other, stumbling a bit in their haste and need. For now, this is their world, their eternity.
The End
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 11:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-29 09:39 pm (UTC)***
It was such an unusual gesture of the man, even in private let alone on the jet in plain view of their co-workers, that Reid did a double take when he felt Hotch´s fingers, firstly touch his hand before entwining with his long ones and then let their hands rest on the seat between them.
Reid looked at their joined hands before scanning the cabin, with a hint of panic, in order to see if anyone noticed but the rest of the team were all occupied in their books, music or sleep. The young man´s gaze fell on his lover and wondered what had prompted the open act of intimacy; it had been a fairly easy case so it couldn´t be that the man was seeking comfort and the time before the case had been almost surreal as they easily found balance in their new relationship.
His conclusion was that even while Hotch was busy writing the report on the case, he was simply being here. Squeezing the hand slightly and smiling, butterflies played in Reid´s stomach when his lover glanced at him with a ghost of smile on his lips before returning to his report.
Reid leaned back and closed his eyes as he grinned widely, imprinting the joyous moment into is memory.
no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 11:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 11:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 11:53 am (UTC)Sex and love is not a game
A game is something you can win
Maybe something kind of fun
'Cause love is just a bloodsport, son
no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 12:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 12:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 12:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 12:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 12:19 pm (UTC)Repetition All Over Again, Black Canary/Superboy, NC-17
Date: 2011-02-15 12:14 am (UTC)"D-do that again?" He doesn't mean for it to come out as a question, but it feels good in him. She smirks.
"Patience." She shifts her thighs under his knees and holds the strap-on to guide it. It was slightly longer than average, but that was mostly so she could keep a hand on it. She smiles seductively and bends over to kiss the twitching muscles of his abdomen.
She pushes in again and he let's out something that could be a moan or a scream. She doesn't care, except it makes her a little more wet. Makes the textured strap feel a little better.
"It's not over." He thrusts are slow, for her benefit as well as his. The strap being one reason. The other being that she doesn't want to over do it.
It was only his second time after all.
Re: Repetition All Over Again, Black Canary/Superboy, NC-17
From:Re: Repetition All Over Again, Black Canary/Superboy, NC-17
From:no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 12:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 12:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 12:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 12:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 12:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 12:25 pm (UTC)My little girlscout, your mouth is getting sore
Will you love me any less if I hurt you any more?
no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 12:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 01:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 01:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 10:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 01:14 pm (UTC)Fill 1/2
Date: 2011-04-03 05:36 am (UTC)She had to resist the urge to reach for her totem, to check if this was dream-sharing or reality, had to remind herself that it didn’t matter, never had with them, it would end the same either way.
Her skirt fluttered around her thighs in the soft breeze coming up off the ocean and Ariadne turned her face up to catch the warmth of the sun. She felt the heat of him behind her before that first touch, leaned forward against the balcony rail so she wouldn’t fall, head over heels tumbling forever.
Fine boned hands, graceful as a painter or poet’s, bare forearms with shirtsleeves carefully rolled back.
Arthur then.
He leaned into her, pressing the railing into her belly, trapping her in a cage of his arms and his body. He was already hard and when she rolled her hips back against him he pressed forward until she couldn’t move.
“Arthur?” She murmured softly, turning her head until she could see his face in profile, his chin resting on her shoulder as he stared out at the horizon.
“Ariadne.” He replied, hint of a smile in his voice.
“Ariadne?” Arthur’s voice called from back inside, from the bedroom where he stood, looking for her.
For them.
“Eames,” She laughed, pushing back against him in Arthur’s stolen image. “Forgery? With me?”
He didn’t step back the way she expected, didn’t flow back into his own face and form, stayed perfectly still with his eyes, Arthur’s eyes, fixed on the distant line of sea and sky.
“Eames?” She said again, softly. “Are you all right, love?”
“Ariadne?” Arthur stepped out onto the balcony, saw himself, Eames, wrapped around Ariadne and stopped. There was something different here. “Eames?”
Eames sighed, stepping back and re-claiming his own image. “It’s nothing darling, I’m just mucking about.”
It was a lie, and not a very good one, but they had been building this tenuous thing between them for long enough to know when to push and when to leave well enough alone.
Arthur took an aborted step towards the other man, but Eames stepped in at the same time, bringing their bodies together from chest to knee. Neither one was hard, not yet, not anymore, but there was always so much heat between them that it never took much.
Ariadne stayed against the rail, turning her back on the seaside to watch the two men who owned her heart work out whatever madness this had been. Watching them, pressed so close together and yet somehow a world apart, she realized this, whatever this was, had been brewing quietly for some time.
“Eames,” Arthur said finally, softly. “Talk to me, please.”
The older man seemed to deflate under the younger man’s quiet please, like whatever was keeping him going was suddenly too heavy to hold up any longer.
“She loves you more than me.”
Fill 2/2
From:SEQUEL LINKY
From:Re: Fill 2/2
From:no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 01:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 01:17 pm (UTC)Fill: Just an Ordinary Job
Date: 2011-02-12 07:37 pm (UTC)Re: Fill: Just an Ordinary Job
From:no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 01:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 09:35 pm (UTC)