Friday Free For All

[darling-lisa.livejournal.com]

Welcome to friday! I'm stepping in today as a pinch host to start the ball rolling for todays Free For All. Remember, that means ANY fandom or crossover, ANY pairing or grouping, ANY prompt is fair game.

Please remember to be kind to your fabulous code monkeys and code your prompts correctly: Fandom, Pairing, Prompt

Examples:
Leverage/Supernatural, Parker/John Winchester, rocking chair
Burn Notice, Michael Westin/author's choice, little black book

And don't forget that if none of the prompts here tickle your fancy, we have a whole stable of lonely prompts just waiting for your attention.

Comments

[technocowboy.livejournal.com]

Stargate: SG-1/Farscape, Cameron Mitchell/John Crichton, What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas

Reflect on this

[camshaft22.livejournal.com]

Their blue eyes met each others, sweeping over each other.

"Is this a joke?" John asked. "As if I didn't have that other me running around before, you're telling me that I had a third?!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Cam asked him, shocked and wondering when the weird stuff started happening on Earth. Although it was Vegas...

John narrowed his eyes as Cam looked at him, wondering if he really made that face when he finally offered a hand. "Cameron Mitchell. And you are?"

"John Crichton," he said warily. Cam smirked at him. "Dude... I'm not going to take your wallet. The ID is the same anyway."

John chuckled and grinned, looking at him.

***

John pushed Cam up against the wall, kissing him roughly. Cam reciprocated, slipping his hands up John's shirt, taking off his clothing, needing him... wanting him. It was more than slightly narcissistic, but he didn't give a good damn.

He pushed off the wall, landing them on the bed as they threw clothes around and John pinned him down and looked down into his face. "You want this, Cam?"

"Yeah... Please. I want this..." he said, the scars of the accident standing out on his light tan skin.

John nodded, understanding. Needing to feel... He prepared Cam for him, slipping on a condom as he shoved into Cam's tight hole. Both men grunted, pushing against each other as John claimed him a little roughly, trying to forget while Cam was trying to remember someone close. Finally Cam couldn't stand it any longer and yelled out as he came. "JOHN!" he yelled out, but the faraway look in his eyes was meant for someone else. John finished, going limp on top of Cam as they kissed and cuddled.

"I'm going back tomorrow... I've finally figured it out," John said.

"Sounds like I should wish you good luck," he said dryly.

"If you wanna. Couldn't hurt, right?" John said with a smirk.

"Only in Vegas..." Cam grumbled.

[darling-lisa.livejournal.com]

Leverage/Supernatural, Parker/John Winchester, rocking chair

[denyce.livejournal.com]

http://denyce.livejournal.com/371266.html

Sorry my muse didn't go the porn route, still I was inspired.

[katbcoll.livejournal.com]

SPN, Dean/Sam, "staff" meeting.
Heh

[(Anonymous)]

"Dean, honestly, I have no idea why you called in this meeting," Sam said and sat down. He tried to show as much reluctance as possible – by slouching in his chair.

"Attendance roll," Dean said.

Sam stared at him. Dean stared back.

"Fine," Sam said, making a face. "One."

"Two," Dean said.

"Three," a tinny voice piped up from the cell phone lying on the desk.

"Dad?" Sam asked, eyes big.

"Yeah. Dean called in for a Winchester staff meeting, so…," John broke off with a crackle, due to the long distance call and the bad connection in hell.

The pointer on the Ouija board went to the number four. Sam blinked.

"Mom?"

The pointer on the Ouija board moved to "Yes".

"This is freaking me out a bit," Sam admitted.

"It's okay," John said. "Alistair said not being able to skip on family reunions is part of my hell."

Dean looked satisfied with that. Good. "I've called in a meeting because I want to tell everybody something."

Sam gaped a little. He had been sure that Dean wouldn't dare tell their family.

"Thing is, Sam and I have been seeing each other for a while now..."

John's voice interrupted him, saying something away from the phone. "Is this a joke? Alistair? Is this a fucking- Argh!"

"Dad, you okay?" Dean asked, concerned.

"Yeah. Just a corrective measure," John panted. "Swear glass, filling up with toenails."

"Ew," Sam said. Mom agreed, because she moved the pointer on the Oija board to E and W.

"Anyway," Dean continued. "Sam's been worrying about it and I thought if we had your okay, then everything'd go a bit smoother."

Sam cleared his throat, uncomfortable. "So, is it? Is it okay?"

John whined a long, drawn-out "yes". He sounded… tortured.

"Mom?" Dean asked and poked the Oija pointer.

"G-o-o-d l-u-c-k b-o-y-s," was spelled slowly. "A-b-o-u-t t-i-m-e y-o-u- t-o-l-d u-s."

"Well, it hasn't been going on for that-"

"L-i-a-r," mom spelled, making Sam choke. He made a face at Dean, who just shrugged.

Mom moved the Oija pointer again. "I a-m d-e-a-d n-o-t b-l-i-n-d."

"I'm not sure I want to know," Dean replied.

"What is it, boys?" John asked.

"Nothing. It's okay."

"So, meeting adjoined, then?"

"Yeah," Dean said. "Until next time. Now that I know you'll have to call back, it's." He beamed.

"Bye mom!" Sam said as Mary was spelling out her goodbyes.

"Bye, boys. Bye, Mary," John said before he was abruptly cut off. An evil cackle echoed through the phoneline.

"So, now that they know and we have their blessing…" Dean said, looking hopeful.

"Yeah, yeah," Sam mumbled. "We can do it with the lights on now."

[darling-lisa.livejournal.com]

Burn Notice, Michael Westin/author's choice, little black book

[daria234.livejournal.com]

"What's this Michael?" Victor asked.

"Nothing. Accounting ledger."

"It's in code."

"Yes," Michael replied with sarcasm, "We're in kind of a secretive profession."

"I was pretty good at cryptology in my day," Victor said is he flipped through the little black book. Michael really wished Victor would respect his boundaries at times.

"Are these names?"

"Maybe, some of them."

"Am I in here?"

"It's for people I have done financial business with. It's not personal." Victor gave him a who-do-you-think-you're-talking-to-here look.

"Yeah, sure. Hey, where's Fiona in here? Under F or G for Glenanne?"

Michael grabbed away the book and said, steely, "Enough, Victor."

"What are all those letter sequences? Did you write in code how good we are in bed? Or just how ruggedly yet boyishly handsome we are?"

"Let it go, Victor."

Victor smiled. "Did I get your highest rating?"

"You got most likely to kill me after sex."

"Very funny, big guy."

"What makes you think I'm kidding?"

"Yeah? Well who got most likely to kill you DURING sex?" Victor asked, smiling wickedly.

"Also you."

"And who got most likely to make you scream yourself hoarse while using you roughly for my pleasure? And who got most likely to make you walk funny for a week?"

"Those ratings have not been assigned yet," Michael said with a smile.

"Then I guess I have a lot of work to do. I can be very competitive."

[eleanorb.livejournal.com]

RPS, Alexander Armstrong/Ben Miller, bling

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Angel, Spike/Lindsay, trust issues

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Being Human, Mitchell/Annie, desperation

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

He's barely through the door when she's on him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and throwing him against the wall with force far greater than her natural strength would have allowed. He freezes for just a moment before returning her kiss, putting his arms around her and drawing her close.

Her hunger does not seem to be abated in the slightest, but rather to build. Mitchell opens his eyes in alarm when he hears a tumult of wind building around them, vases and knick knacks shattering as if burst by the same internal force that's driving Annie.

He pushes her back a little, disturbed by how difficult it is, whispering under his breath.

"Wait... Annie, wait, wait..."

"Can't," she mutters, her voice trembling, and he notices that tears streak her face. "Need you."

With both hands on her shoulders he holds her back with an extreme effort, forcing her to meet his eyes. Her lips are trembling, her eyes red-rimmed.

"Owen was here today... wasn't he?" Mitchell gently whispers.

For a moment he's almost afraid of her, as something dark and smoldering appears in her eyes, and he can see the hurt and anger and resentment building within her -- but then that something breaks, and her shoulders are shaking, her head is bowed, and she's leaning into the shelter of his arms.

"Shhh," he whispers in her ear. "It's all right, love. It's all right..."

[mickey-sixx.livejournal.com]

Gossip Girl/St Trinian's, Kelly Jones/Serena Van Der Woodsen, hockey

Gossip Girl/St Trinian's, Kelly Jones/Serena Van Der Woodsen, hockey

[summerstorm.livejournal.com]

Serena goes to England during spring break, when she's still supposed to be in Connecticut. The only surprising thing about the fact that she ends up spending a week at what is, according to the media, the most dangerous boarding school in the country is the way it all goes down.

The van Serena's taking this road trip in breaks down on a random deserted road in the middle of nowhere, and while the two people of age in their group go look for help, the rest of them set up an impromptu hockey game in a nearby field.

It's a pretty intense hockey game: Mike is high and drives his stick into someone's knee to the point of bleeding, and Sarah falls off her heels at one point and ends up covered in mud and with a potentially broken ankle. Serena stays mostly clean and completely unharmed, for what it's worth, but she's sweaty as hell when she sees them coming.

A group of them, like they're getting ready for combat, except their eyes are less aggressive and more simply predatory.

Serena's pretty much the only one standing—with the stick over her head because she just scored, and she's still grinning for it—and, when the girls get closer, the one with the Cleopatra bob stops and looks her over, practically checks her out.

Serena returns the favor. The girl's practically asking to be ogled—the skirt highlighting her ass, the red lips, her long eyelashes, the way her shirt squeezes her breasts like a pleasantry, like they'd rather be out and in Serena's hands—if this little exchange doesn't end in sex, Serena will gladly eat the puck.

"You're good," the girl with the Cleopatra bob says.

"You're hot," Serena says, mostly because Mike would tease her forever if she didn't take the chance, partly because she's in another country, and partly because, hell, the girl just is.

"I'm Kelly Jones," the girl offers, holding out her hand, her hips leaning to the left when she takes a step forward.

"Serena van der Woodsen," Serena replies, and shakes her hand.

Kelly doesn't even flinch at the sweat. Gets a glint in her eye instead, like this is exactly what she was hoping for. "Well," she says, "I see you don't mind getting your hands dirty."

"What's the point if you don't?" Serena points out cheerfully.

Kelly nods as an observation, pouting a little—not the slightest bit ridiculous, but damn if Serena doesn't want to kiss that pout off her face.

"Do you have a point?"

"We're playing Wycliffe next week," Kelly says, "we'd like to recruit you."

Serena thinks it over, mostly for the sake of looking ponderous, and says yes.


continued here (http://cherryroad.livejournal.com/14549.html), went over the character limit, as one does

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Buffy, Spike/Xander, coerced

[hawk-soaring.livejournal.com]

"Coerced?" Xander frowned. Coerced -- well maybe a little. So, yeah, maybe a lot. He smiled, curling the chain around his fist a little tighter.

"Bloody hell, yes! Do you think I'd ever --"

Xander twisted the chain around his fist -- pulling the person on the other end in closer. He raked his gaze over pale flesh, a heaving chest, plump lips and startling blue eyes. "I think you always wanted to," he said deliberately, watching as those blue eyes widened in disbelief. "And don't think I didn't know it," he added.

"You're daft."

Xander smiled and held up the bright red ball gag. "Open up."

Spike shut his lips tight and shook his head.

Xander stepped in closer, just one step but enough to make the silk of his shirt ghost over Spike's skin. When the vampire gasped in an unnecessary breath, Xander inserted the ball, reaching around Spike's head to quickly fasten the buckles. "And don't bite through that. I don't think this place will take kindly to disobedient slaves.'

Spike rolled his eyes and growled.

Xander chuckled and leaned forward, pressing his lips to Spike's cheek and then licking lightly at his stretched lips. "This is a quick in and out job, Spike. Just be a good slave and follow my lead." He slapped Spike's ass once before turning and leading the way into the warehouse.

The door opened on deep shadows and Xander flinched as he was frisked before being let inside. The chains were magicked, weakened enough that, should trouble arise, Spike would have no trouble breaking free. They were here on a fact-finding mission only. Demons were disappearing from the streets and word had it, this place was an auction house: any creature to be had for a price. Taking his own slave in would only lend him credibility. And, damn -- Spike looked good in chains.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Dexter, Dexter/Rita, guilty conscience

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

He slips into the darkened house without turning on any lights, or doing anything else that might draw attention to himself. He's almost to the stairs when he hears her voice out of the dark, and nearly jumps out of his skin.

"Where have you been?"

He freezes, then slowly turns to face her, barely able to make out her motionless form, huddled in the living room recliner with a blanket pulled up around her shoulders. There's no mistaking the tremor of suppressed anger in her voice.

She's not even looking at him.

"I had something I had to take care of," he honestly replies. He pauses a moment, before adding, "I'm sorry, but that's all i can tell you."

She doesn't respond, just rises from her chair and moves calmly to the light switch, turning it on and flooding the room with too-bright light. She doesn't flinch or break eye contact as she moves to stand directly in front of him, studying his expression with an intensity that makes his heart race.

He forces himself not to look away.

"Look at me," she softly commands, "and tell me that I wouldn't have to decide whether or not to forgive you... if you told me where you've been all night."

"You wouldn't," he replied without hesitation, putting as much conviction as possible into his tone.

After all... it's the truth.

She wouldn't have to waste time on the decision.

She'd instantly know he was unforgivable.

She studies his face a moment longer before making a conscious, visible decision to trust -- then kisses him and heads up the stairs ahead of him.

He doesn't feel a moment of guilt for taking the life of the arms dealer he just killed.

No... it's the trust in Rita's eyes that keeps him from sleeping that night.

[yoruichiyoshi12.livejournal.com]

The Mummy Returns, Lock-Nah/Alex, reunion

Totally gonna have to be AU b/c of Alex's age and Lock-Nah's fate at the end of the movie.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Dollhouse, Topher/Echo, retribution

[restlessme.livejournal.com]

Spoilers for latest episode: Needs.
Blank expression and she smiles, unsure of herself.
"Echo, it's time for your treatment," the doctor explains, smiling.

She's always liked him, he's so kind and his voice is always fun to listen to.
Sitting in the chair, she jumps as a needle slips into her arm.
"It hurts," she explains calmly, voice taking on odd strain that she's unfamiliar to. He nods his head, hand patting her arm in soothing motions.

"It's supposed to Echo, I'm so sorry." he murmurs, voice taking an edge. "Can you close your eyes for me Echo? This is a really big secret."

Nodding her head, she closes her eyes waiting. She wants it to be a surprise, perhaps extra pancakes?

Familiar hum of the chair begins to calm her before intense pain shoots up her arm. Gritting teeth in pain, she clenches her eyes shut.
He told her to keep her eyes shut and she'll do that, even with tears streaming down her face.

She'd like to go now, she wants to go so badly. Her skin's on fire and slowly peeling off. She lets out a scream followed by another.

"Did I fall asleep?" she whispers, voice rough from something she can not recall.
The doctor smiles at her calmly, nods.

"Just for a little," he replies.
Hesitantly, she glances towards the door, arm hot.

"May I leave?" she questions, not sure if he'll let her. Something about him scares her, she doesn't want to be around him.

"You may."

Standing up, she glances behind her as she exits the room, catching the glare sent towards her.

Hope it was good?

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Friends, Ross/Rachel, losing you

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

All the way to the airport, I thought of you -- and wondered how I could have missed it for so long.

You were just always there... so I guess I just saw you as my friend, without ever even considering that there might be more than friendship in those affectionate glances and shy smiles you sometimes sent my way.

Now that they've told me the truth, though... it seems so obvious.

Really, shouldn't everyone end up with their best friend? Wouldn't the world be so much better that way?

I hurry through the halls of the airport, clutching my meager floral offering in hand, ready and eager to accept what you've been offering to me all along, even though I was too dense to see it.

My hand clenches on the flowers in my hand, my eyes widen with horror, as I see you approach -- holding the hand of someone else. She glances up at you with the same adoration I missed for so long when you would look at me -- and worse, when you look back at her... you return it.

I think I might have strangled the flowers to death at this point.

I can't give them to you, now, anyway.

I turn around, desperate to escape before you see what I was going to do.

It feels like losing you when I've only just found you.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

House, House/Wilson, at his mercy

House, House/Wilson, at his mercy

[ice-ziggee.livejournal.com]

Hope this is what you had in mind, that prompt was just begging to be written ;)

“Get down on your knees,” he whispered into the older man´s ear as his finger held his head steady with a fist full of curly locks.

“Wilson…Please!” House breathed out, fright and worry evident in his hoarse whisper.

“I said; Get down on your knees,” Wilson repeated, anger entering his voice.

When the order didn´t prompt the respond he was demanding, he yanked the man´s head in a downward motion, making him lose his balance; “NOW!!”

House fell to the floor on all four, flinching as the fall startled his thigh and Wilson couldn´t help but smile as pleading and haunted blue eyes looked up to him.

He never knew that having dominance over another human, could be so exhilarating. Having House at his mercy was the biggest rouse of them all, watching the man squirm right before his eyes, knowing he could do as he pleased with him, made adrenalin and endorphins rush through his body.

Without taking his eyes of the man in front of him, Wilson undid his belt and the button on his slacks and he couldn´t help the small shiver of thrill as he watched as House realized what he was doing.

“You are going to make amends in the only way you´re good for,” Wilson said calmly and took the steps up to the man on the floor in front of him.

House raised himself up and sat back on his heals, his eyes found the brown eyes that once were filled with eagerness and laughter. He didn´t know the man who stood before him, the madness and the cold was such a contrary to the loving and guilt-driven man he loved.

Where had he gone wrong?

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

House, House/Thirteen, exploration

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Neither one of them is in this for anything emotional.

He was drawn in by the novelty of being with a hot bisexual.

She was drawn in by the novelty of being with him.

He's amazed, though he's aware that he shouldn't be, by how experienced she is. When she kisses him deeply and rises up over him, meeting his eyes with a wicked grin -- he knows he's in for a hell of a ride.

"Ever been tied up by a lesbian?"

She holds up a pair of shiny silver handcuffs.

He returns her smile, allowing his mind to wander for a few moments to wonder where she had been hiding them, before pointing out,

"You're bisexual."

She gives him a teasing wink as she echoes words she's heard him speak before.

"I was rounding up."

He hesitates, tired but wise advice running through his head about never engaging in this sort of activity with a first-time sexual partner -- but the images filling his mind are too tantalizing to pass up.

"What're you gonna do?" he asks, a challenge in his voice, even as he raises his wrists together over his head, bringing them close to the bars of the headboard. "Make me beg?"

Her expression is tempting and mysterious as ever as she fastens the cuffs around his wrists, binding his hands above his head.

"Nah," she shrugs, a certain warmth stealing into her eyes, her voice lowering to a husky tone of desire. "I just want your hands out of the way... so I can... explore..."

As sexual innuendos go, House thinks that one's pretty tame.

Within five minutes she's proven him wrong.

House isn't used to having anyone focus such thorough, lavish attention on him. Thirteen moves her hands, her mouth, over his body with patient precision, as if she has all the time in the world.

In a way... she does.

She awakens sensations in him that he hasn't felt in years, making him feel cherished and important and... sexy.

As she slowly keeps her promise of exploration, House is grateful that he decided to take this chance with her on their first time... and desperately hopes that it won't be their last.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

House, House/Cuddy, discipline

[bonomania.livejournal.com]

(This is my take on your prompt, hope you like it. Bear in mind, it's 2:47am!!! lol. Sorry it's looong...)

“So, you just did it?” Cuddy asked, voice stern as she sat behind her desk

“Yes,” was House’s reply, a look of complacency across his face.

“Even though I explicitly told you not to?”

“Yes.”

“So you disobeyed my orders?

“Why is this so strange to you?” House scoffed.

Ignoring House’s remark, Cuddy continued, her voice now taking on a softer, silkier tone, “You know what this means, don’t you?” Her lip curled into a smirk, anger dissipating almost immediately.

Noticing her sudden change of face, House mirrored Cuddy’s expression, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I thought you wanted to do this in private? Save it for the sound-proof, non-transparent walls of our own home?”

“I thought, after last time, you wouldn’t feel the need to break the rules again.” She lifted the ruler from her desk, stroking it up and down. House watched as she rounded the desk until they were face to face and he could feel the heat of her breathe against his neck. House’s hand tightened on his cane as she seductively licked her lips, her eyes never straying from his. “As I told you before, House,” she leant into him, whispering in his ear, “naughty boys need to be punished.”

Suddenly, her voice took that dominant tone that House loved. “Bend over the desk.” House’s eager smile didn’t falter. “Now.” House quickly complied, bracing his hands over polished surface. Cuddy trailed the edge of the ruler down House’s back, not caring if people saw, and beamed when she heard a small growl of pleasure escape his lips.

As the ruler reached his coccyx, House knew what was coming next – he’d come to experience it many times, though never in such public view – he eagerly awaited his punishment and took in a deep, cool breath as he heard the whoosh of the ruler cutting through the air a split second before it snapped against the rear of his jeans. He jerked forward instinctively, but barely had a second to regain his composure before Cuddy’s hand drew the ruler back down again, striking his ass a second time. And then a third. And then a forth.

House’s body responded as it always did, though he tried his best to keep the dragon in its den – or so to speak – for this was where Cuddy excelled. Her strikes kept coming and House became less and less able to stay collected. On the tenth hit, the force and the snap of the ruler sent a cold, sensual chill up his spine – and his body responded accordingly.

Cuddy let out a small chuckle noticing House’s arousal and stopped mid-swing. “All done,” she said, cheerily, setting the ruler back on her desk.

“Don't stop there –” he whined.

“You know how this works, House." And he did know. His face contorted into a smirk-frown hybrid as he stood up straight, took hold of his cane and walked awkwardly – obviously uncomfortably – from her office.

Cuddy-induced sexual frustration – the only effective way to discipline Dr Gregory House.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

HIMYM, Barney/Robin, submission (preferably Barney's ;P)

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

“So… are you here with someone, or just…”

Robin smiled up at the dark-haired stranger beside her at the bar. She found his awkward, uncertain manner – not to mention the fact that he hadn’t used a single lame pick-up line – strangely appealing. She started to shake her head, her lips parted to respond – when suddenly, she felt an arm wrap around her shoulders in a surprisingly intimate and casual embrace.

“Yeah, she’s here with someone. Get lost, loser.”

Robin tried to explain, but the insecure would-be pick-up artist walked away before she could – clearly intimidated and backed down by Barney’s false claim on her. Robin turned and glared at him indignantly, rolling her shoulder out from under his arm.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Stinson?”

“Rescuing you from a tedious, boring night with a desperate loser who wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes once you got him in bed. Trust me. I know these things.”

Robin’s eyes narrowed, and Barney was suddenly inexplicably nervous, his eyes averted self-consciously. Robin’s head tilted slightly with curiosity, and a sly smile began to form on her lips.

“Barney… why did you really just do that?”

“I-I-I told you, because you’re my… friend… my… bro… and… and I don’t want you to… waste your time on some…”

His weak explanation died in his throat as Robin slipped nearer to him, and he felt her hand come to rest low on his hip. He stared down at the point of contact with wide eyes before looking up again, an unspoken question in his gaze.

“Why. Did you do. That.”

Robin’s tone was dangerously soft, her eyes intently studying his face, and suddenly Barney’s mouth was dry, his hands damp and trembling as he fought to keep his tone even and patient, struggling not to betray his own uneasiness.

“I told you, Robin. You deserve… better than a loser like that, so I just thought…”

His words broke off in a stifled yelp as her hand left his hip to abruptly grip his package through the thin fabric of his suit pants. Barney felt the sharp point of fingernails behind his balls as Robin drew her hand slightly forward, and he let out a gasp of alarm, leaning back against the bar behind him, as Robin moved in closer, her body blocking the way she was touching him from anyone else’s sight.

“Think about this, Barney.” Robin’s tone was cool and frighteningly controlled. “The next time you ruin the first chance I’ve had in two months – two months – to go out with a reasonably attractive, probably perfectly decent guy…”

She gave a vicious little twist of her hand, and Barney’s eyes rolled back in his head for a moment as he fairly collapsed against the bar, his hands extended in front of him, not quite daring to touch her, in a wordless plea for mercy. Robin leaned in close to speak directly into his ear, her free hand running lightly through his hair in a gesture utterly at odds with the harsh grasp she had on his most vulnerable parts.

“… it’ll be a lot longer than two months before you’re able to use these again. Got it, Stinson?”

Barney nodded hurriedly, slumping down against the bar in relief when she finally released him with a bright, satisfied smile.

“Good. See ya.”

Barney watched her go through eyes hooded with a combination of pain and lust – and found himself spiraling ever deeper into the bottomless pit that was his hopeless infatuation with Robin Scherbatsky. This just served to prove once more, in another way, how utterly out of his league she really was. A woman like that – a woman who could do that to him, both physically and metaphorically – was a woman he would not be able to forget, no matter how hard he tried.

She could have asked him, softly and meekly, without touching him – and he’d have done as she asked, regardless of the personal cost to himself.

Barney had to face it – Robin Scherbatsky had had him whipped into submission long before she’d ever touched him.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Scrubs, JD/Cox, dominance

[daria234.livejournal.com]

JD flicked his wrist and sent the whip onto Perry's ass leaving a red line but not inflicting real damage.

"Oh come ON newbie, this isn't the pretty pretty princess house of mild discomfort. Put some of that flabby no-gym-going not-really-arm-muscle-so-much-as-decorative-tissue-hanging-limp-like-old-streamers-the-night-after-prom into it, will you Jennifer?"

JD brought the whip down a little harder, "And don't call me girl's names"

"Decisions, decisions. You hit like someone named Petunia, but your voice -- it's like a Rhonda or a Susie-Q."

"Shut up Perry! Stop being such a pushy bottom!"

JD then had an image flash before him of Dr. Cox with a giant ass rigged up with bulldozers, literally pushing everyone in the hospital hallway to the side as he walked by.

"Are you even paying attention,Newbie?"

"You need to learn to share the hallway, Perry," JD chided as he vigorously put a bright welt onto Perry's flesh.

[merihn.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Sam/Dean/OFC, double teaming.

(yes, I just reread thenyxie's Like Staring into the Sun verse)

[alldunn.livejournal.com]

Not that I'll do that awesome verse any kind of justice, but I'll give it a go.


Dean was mindlessly pumping into the girl, nearing orgasm when Sammy's weight settled on top of him. His full weight pressed him tight down on her. All three moaned for differnt reasons.

"No, Dean. Too fast. Like this," Sam whispered, his breath a sexy tickle in Dean's ear. Sam rocked his hips, setting Dean's to the same rythm. It was more a circular motion than in and out. The girl moaned again, loud, loving it. It was good, too. Just not enough.

"Sammy," Dean protested. "I need-"

"I know Dean. Just wait. So tight." Dean did not know if Sam meant the girl who was spastically clenching her inner muscles or Dean himself. Sam controlled Dean's hips with his heands, using the leverage to slip slide his cock along Dean's ass crack. Each time his cock head caught against the tight muscle it sent frissions of need pulsing to his cock.

"So good. So tight. Dean. Faster." It no longer mattered who Sammy was talking about. They were going faster and it sent her over the edge. Her grip was tight, so tight and it pulled Dean along with her.

"Told you it would be good," Dean heard through the haze. Hands a welcome warmth as they stroked down his back and sides. This thing Sam had started was getting to be too much, but fuck if Dean cared to stop it.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Tru Calling, Jack/Tru, make you sorry

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

You took something from me that I can never get back... and you couldn't give him back, no matter how hard you tried.

Luc is dead.

I want to kill you, too -- to make you sorry for what you did -- but I'm not sure I could kill you, even if I could bring myself to actually take things that far.

No... I'll have to resort to a much more complex form of revenge.

It starts with a casual glance here, a few well-placed words there -- all leading you to believe that I'm softening toward you and your cause, seeing where maybe you might be right about some of the things you keep telling me -- about fate and the order of the universe and all that other crap you use to try to make me think it's okay to help bring about the deaths of innocent people.

I'm not really coming around. I just want you to think I am.

Next, I turn my attentions from your cause... to you.

It's so gradual, you never suspect.

You're good at taking advantage of people's vulnerabilities, but this time I don't get the feeling that you're actually taking advantage -- which just makes this all the sweeter.

Gradually, you come to actually care about me -- and you think that I care, too.

I don't.

Not about you, anyway.

What I care about is making you sorry -- making you see what you did to me, and know what it feels like.

Eventually, you'll fall in love -- and that's when I'll crush your twisted heart under my feet, leaving you only once I know that you'll be nothing less than devastated by it.

And then... then you'll be sorry for what you did... because then, you'll know what it feels like to lose the one you love.

[jade-starlight.livejournal.com]

SGA/BSG, John Sheppard/Lee Adama, flight

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Ugly Betty, Betty/Daniel, unexpected

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

He never thought this would happen.

It was the whole reason she got the job in the first place -- because she was the type of girl that Daniel Meade would never in a million years take any kind of interest in.

At first, he even tried to get rid of her.

And then... he got to know her.

Betty proved to be the most loyal, generous, kind-hearted person Daniel had ever known in his entire life. She went out of her way for him again and again, doing everything in her power to bail him out of the self-created messes in which he seemed to find himself on a daily basis... but she meant so much more to him than that.

Over time, Betty had become a dear and trusted friend.

She was there at the hospital when Molly passed. Daniel's mother was there as well, and offered him a slightly awkward half-hug before discreetly leaving the room, nodding to Betty to follow her and give her son some space.

Betty didn't notice. Her attention, as always, was focused on Daniel.

She went to him and put her arms around him, holding on even when she felt his natural resistance as he tried to end the hug. After a few moments, he gave in, and she held on tight as his shoulders shook with his sobs of grief -- offering him a kind of support which she had always had in her own family, but which was new and unfamiliar and desperately needed for him.

He knew in that moment that he loved her -- like a best friend, or like family.

It was several months later when the truth of the matter hit him -- a quietly unexpected truth that was suddenly clear as his own name.

He was in love with Betty Suarez.

Equally unexpected was finding out that she was in love with him, too.

Sometimes it's the things you can't plan for or expect that end up being the best parts of your life.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Will and Grace, Will/Jack, what he needs

What he needs, Will and Grace, Will/Jack

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

He puts Jack on his knees, first, forcing the younger man to stay still while he finishes cleaning the kitchen, then moves over to stand in front of Jack, looking down at him. Jack's kneeling there, back perfectly straight, head up but eyes down, and Will feels a sudden feeling of complete pride.

"Up," he says, and Jack unfolds himself gracefully, his eyes still fixed on the floor until Will reaches out and runs a finger up the line of Jack's throat to his chin. "Mine," Will says, and Jack blushes so prettily as he nods.

"Always," he breathes, eyes just a little dazed, and Will pulls him in, slowly and gently with one hand cupping the nape of Jack's neck, and he kisses Jack, loving the way Jack opens beneath him, a little gasp escaping that tempting mouth.

They're going to take it slow tonight - slow and easy and it's going to last until he's managed to reduce Jack to little more than whimpers, well past the begging, until Jack can't do anything more than lie there and take what Will wants to give to him.

After all, they've both had a very bad day - a case lost for one, a job lost for the other - and they need this, even if Jack will never admit it.

[merihn.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Merlin/Arthur/Lancelot, freedom.

ahem...

[mariana-oconnor.livejournal.com]

I don't usually write porn, and I don't usually write threesomes so... I, uh, hope this is alright.

-

It took his breath away, to see them like this, moving against each other with such fluidity and abandon that he was a little jealous.

There was something there that he could never have, something that he had always been cut off from by thick walls, sturdy doors and heavy responsibilities.

Merlin’s head was thrown back, his mouth open as some incoherent syllables burst from his mouth. There was no self-consciousness there. He did not care what he looked like or what he said. He did not care what people thought.

Lancelot’s hand slid down his back, lower and lower, leaving white tracks which quickly filled in with red. His eyes were closed as he muttered Merlin’s name over and over again in between leisurely bites and kisses down the exposed neck.

He could label it as the drink and have done with it. Alcohol had eradicated their inhibitions, made them less concerned with anything other than the other’s taste, smell, touch. But they were like this separately and sober as well. Merlin had the constant appearance that he was about to dart away and Lancelot fought like he was a force of nature; neither of them ever minded what people thought or people saw.

He should have walked out when he caught sight of the skin He should have turned around and left Merlin’s tiny room, but he couldn’t help but watch enviously as Lancelot hoisted Merlin up into his lap.

His grip on the doorframe was making his knuckles white and his fingers ache, but if he let go, he wasn’t sure he would be able to restrain himself from reaching out.

Suddenly, his eyes were caught in a dark gaze over Merlin’s shoulder and he couldn’t look away from Lancelot as he stared back, his lips moving up to Merlin’s ear.

Arthur knew he should turn around now, walk away, but he was still frozen there, unable to move closer or further away, as though just being near them might convey some of that freedom onto him.

The pair of them tilted backwards, Lancelot supporting Merlin’s body until his back hit the bed. Merlin looked up at him, upside down, and his face slid into a smile, unconcerned at having been caught in such a position. Arthur could see right down between them, to where Lancelot was thrusting into his manservant, and both of them were looking back at him.

He watched one of Merlin’s hands slide down to wrap around his erection and Arthur could feel his own hand mirroring the movement. Merlin must have noticed too as his smile grew.

Lancelot didn’t last much longer, he drove into Merlin three or four more times before Arthur watched his eyes clench shut and heard the guttural moan that fell from his mouth.

As he pulled out, Merlin still lay there, head tilted back, watching Arthur with his hand shoved down his breeches. His hand was leisurely stroking up and down and, even upside down, Arthur knew that his expression was at its most wicked.

“What are you still doing all the way over there?” he asked.

Arthur was moving before Merlin had even finished the question and as soon as he reached the bed, hands were reaching out to him and swiftly stripping him, Merlin’s more sure than Lancelot’s, but only through experience. Every time they touched him, it was as though he was feeling what it was like to be them – without strictures or rules or appearances to maintain. Lancelot’s arms wrapped around him from behind: one replacing his own hand, the other darting around his chest. Merlin was kneeling in front of him, lifting his legs and spreading him apart.

The sensation was unfamiliar as fingers slid into him, but Lancelot’s hands and Merlin’s tongue, lapping at his balls, distracted him as he was slowly worked open. Then his hips were hoisted up and Merlin was sliding into him with a groan. His only points of contact with the outside world were where their touches burnt into him.

He let his head fall back onto Lancelot’s shoulder as the man chuckled and Arthur cried out as Merlin pushed into him again. The whole world constricted until there was just the three of them: Lancelot’s throaty whispers in his ear, Merlin’s murmurs of pleasure above him and Arthur’s own wordless moans.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

QaF, Brian/Michael, secret submission

Teenage Michael & Brian

[justapieceofme.livejournal.com]

"Come on," he whines, turning on the puppy-dog eyes full force.

"No," Brian replies, not even bothering to look up from the magazine he's flipping through.

"Please?"

"No. I am not going to some stupid comic-book convention."

"I'll love you forever," Michael cajoles.

"You'll love me forever anyway," Brian says, finally looking up. Their eyes meet and Michael wonders if Brian knows how true that is, because he's pretty sure that he really will.

They stand there for a moment, just looking at each other, and finally Brian sighs. "Fine. But if you ever tell anyone I went to some nerd-fest, I will have to kill you."

"Deal!" Michael agrees, face breaking into a huge grin.

I seem to be the master of twisting prompts today. But much as I love Michael's unrequited pining, the idea of actual sex between them squicks me a little.