Friday: Free For All

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Hey guys! The weekend has all but officially begun. And you know what that means? That's right! Any fandom, any pairing or grouping, and any prompt are welcome!



But please be sure to format your prompts appropriately for the sake of your friendly neighborhood Code Monkeys! For example:

Supernatural, Sam/Dean, "I always wanted to be in a comic book"

or

AtS/Leverage, Angel/Eliot Spencer, "no human should be able to do that"



Not seeing any prompts that just reach out and grab you? Try checking out our collection of Lonely Prompts. We've got a little of everything, hopefully we've got something for you!



Speaking of Lonely Prompts, this weekend will be another Lonely Prompt Challenge. It will run from 0:00 PST Saturday to 23:59 PST Sunday. But we're going to tweak things just a little bit, so please make sure to read the challenge post tomorrow.


And with that, happy writing everybody. And have a great Friday!

Comments

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Sam/Dean, "I always wanted to be in a comic book"

[bekkis.livejournal.com]

Dean finds it in his bag three days later.

"Dude, no way!" Sam looks up from the laptop, and Dean holds it up to show him. "It's a comic book. About us."

"I thought that whole thing creeped you out." Sam scowls and looks back at his laptop. Dean flips through the comic book, ridiculous versions of himself and Sam fighting a demon. It's pretty badass, actually.

"Yea well. I always wanted to be in a comic book." He flops down on the bed, laughing at the dialogue. A minute later Sam sits down next to him, and Dean scoots over to give him room.

"Okay, it is pretty cool." Sam smiles at him, that goofy grin that Dean can't help but smile back at.

"Think there's more?" Dean asks, and Sam shrugs and pulls the comic out of Dean's hands.

"Dunno. We could find out though."

[cyphersushi.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, rewarded for good behaviour

[mariana-oconnor.livejournal.com]

I'm fairly certain this isn't really what you wanted, but it's what came out. Hope it's not too far off.

*

“Shouldn’t I get a reward?” Dean asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm. Castiel stood in the doorway opposite him, watching him with the exact same look of perplexed indifference he always had in these situation. “Come on, aren’t you going to pat me on the head for being such a ‘good boy’?”

The angel took a step forward and raised on hand, for a second Dean thought he was actually going to pat him on the head, but instead the hand found its way to his chest, resting lightly over his heart.

I pulled you out of hell

He froze. Castiel could probably stop his heart beat with a thought.

I can throw you back in.

But the angel was looking down at his hand thoughtfully, not like he was imagining Dean dying, crumpling to the ground and his soul sinking down into hell again, but like he was faced with a problem he had not considered before.

At first it just tingled, spreading out warm from where Castiel’s hand was resting. Dean almost pulled back, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to. Then the heat increased and he could feel his heart beginning to speed up as the tingling expanded to every inch of his body, running through him.

What came next was beyond description. It was as though he exploded and then reformed, like a spontaneous orgasm, only twice as powerful. There was just a sensation of absolute, pure pleasure, running through him, leaving no knowledge for anything but that single moment. White heat covered him; utter bliss and rapture. Dean knew that he was crying out, but he couldn’t hear his voice over the roar of ecstasy. When the world filtered in again he was on his knees, panting for breath and shaking. His hands spasmed against the carpet and every muscle in his body felt weak.

After seconds – or minutes, or hours – had passed and he had managed to regain control over himself, he looked up. Castiel was gone, the only memory of him the remaining warmth where his hand had been pressed against Dean’s chest, and an echo of it in the scar on his arm.

[havenward.livejournal.com]

AtS/Leverage, Angel/Eliot Spencer, "no human should be able to do that"

[cyphersushi.livejournal.com]

Criminal Minds, Reid/Morgan, experimentation

Fic: Handcuffs and Blindfolds; Criminal Minds; Morgan/Reid; PG-13

[aravistarkheena.livejournal.com]

Title: Handcuffs and Blindfolds
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None

Handcuffs and Blindfolds

Morgan regarded the pair of proffered handcuffs and blind fold with no little sense of trepidation.

“Uh Reid, I’m not so sure about this…” he began and Reid shot him a disappointed look.

“But you said you wanted to experiment,” Reid pointed out his best pedantic voice.

“That’s true, but I was thinking more along the lines of chocolate syrup and shower sex. Not so much blindfolds and handcuffs.”

Reid gave him an ‘Ah-ha!’ look and narrowed his eyes slyly.

“I get it, you’re just scared,” Reid said in an elaborately understanding tone of voice.

“I’m not scared!” he shot back, reflexively and then groaned internally. Morgan had two sisters, he knew that the minute he went on the defensive all was lost.

He looked down at the handcuffs with resignation and reminded himself that it was always a bad idea to try and out maneuver a genius.

[cyphersushi.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Parker/Eliot/Hardison, friendly competition

[darling-lisa.livejournal.com]

It had started out with little things, Parker trying to steal the last piece of bacon at breakfast before Eliot could get to it, Eliot sneaking in to the office to leave "presents" for each of them on their desks - although he had an easier time coming up with a work related explanation for twelve bottles of lubricant than Parker did for a Princess Leia slave girl costume. It was just one upmanship, playing who was the better thief... and it was cute.

But tonight? They had taken it to a whole new level, and apparently Alec was the target. It had started with Parker doing that thing with her tongue that always made his eyes roll up into the back of his head and no sooner had he recovered from that, then Eliot was there using those long, strong fingers of his to drive him right back to the edge of sanity again. They had been at it for hours now, and didn't show any sign of stopping. And Alec? Well his Momma didn't raise no fool. As he lay back, panting and moaning Eliot's name as the retrieval expert did something with his hips that caused him to brush up against just the right spot over and over, he resolved to let them work it out on their own... after all nothing wrong with a little friendly competition, nothing at all.

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Nate/Eliot, "how do I feel this good sober?"

lyric from Sober by P!nk

Leverage, Nate/Eliot, "how do I feel this good sober?"

[echoing-dream.livejournal.com]

Nate wakes to the feel of Eliot crawling down his body, soft kisses pressed into his stomach, hands grasping firmly at his hips as Eliot's hair strokes over his cock, soft touch of it making him bite back a whimper.

Eliot's still not quite awake, pushing the covers away as he slides between Nate's legs, pushes his knees wide so he can settle himself between them. He licks his lips before a sly smile slides into place, pursing his lips to blow a steady stream of air over the damp head of Nate's cock. Eliot's hands are still pinning his hips into place, and Nate's pretty sure he'll have finger marks there later because he's arching anyway, not awake enough to have any control over the tease.

Thankfully, Eliot doesn't seem too fussed about teasing either, because his mouth slides closer, licking a hot stripe up Nate's cock before he sucks the head into his mouth, and Nate's whimper escapes him before he can bite down, because Eliot's always been good at this. He feels more than hears the soft chuckle, vibrations running through him and making him squirm a split second before Eliot's swallowing him down.

The hands on his hips are bruising now, and Nate digs his fingers into the crumpled sheets, trying to keep his eyes open as Eliot slides up and down on his cock, wet sounds whenever he slides off completely to tongue the head, bringing him off slow and easy.

He reaches out to grab at Eliot's hair, managing to tug on a few of the strands in warning, but Eliot's eyes met his as he slid back down anyway, sucking hard and swallowing Nate down as he came.

It took a moment to blink the spots from his eyes, and when he could, Eliot was sprawled across his chest, lips swollen and eyes bright.

"Better than drinking?" he asked, not giving Nate time to answer before his lips were pressed against Nate's, sharing the taste. It took a long while for Nate to miss the usual dull ache in his head, his limbs heavy for an entirely different reason.

[darkmagic-luvr.livejournal.com]

CSI:NY/Criminal Minds, Don Flack/Emily Prentiss, out for drinks

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Firefly/RPS, companion!Chris/Inara, lost in the Black

[ravensword.livejournal.com]

He huddles into himself and stares out into the black. The little shuttle isn't built for this and he knows he's lost...too far out, too much...he can't go back, but here there's nothing but the black...

His body aches with the cold, and he pulls the thin robe around his bruised flesh as he closes his eyes and tries to remember the training house, the warm baths and the sun shining on the terrace.

He almost imagines he can feel the warmth, see the light shining down on him out of the dark...

"Christian?" The voice is gentle, familiar, the hands soft. That voice curls around harsh words as those hands brush over his face. "Simon!"

There are other voices now, men and he pulls away involuntarily, curling forward to protect himself, to hide. "It's okay, it's okay. I've got you."

The smell of her floods his senses as his head lands in her lap, bringing everything into focus.

"'Nara?"

"Shhh..." Something warm and wet splashes on his face and his eyes open. Her face swims in his failing sight, the black all around her, them.

"Found me..."

"Just hang on, Chris...just hang on..."

[darkmagic-luvr.livejournal.com]

Twilight, Edward and Jasper/Alice, sexy thoughts

[akasakasan.livejournal.com]

Ok so I've never actually written anything Twilight related before so I'm sorry if this isn't very good.

He really should have known better than to piss Alice off. It had been just a casual remark, missing the thought process and bursting out of his mouth. Alice had narrowed her eyes and walked off, thoughts of retribution bouncing around her brain.

Edward glared at Jasper; he could have warned him that telling Alice that her dress made her look “curvy” was nowhere near a smart thing to do. For someone who had been alive for almost a hundred years sometimes Edward’s survival instinct just sucked.

The next day Alice sat extra close to him on the couch, lean body curled next to him with Jasper on her other side. Suddenly she sighed loudly and began to daydream, memories of what she did last night assaulting him in full colour, booming sound and high definition. And boy he did not need to know that his adopted sister could do that with her tongue... or that she was that flexible... or what Jasper looked naked... and was that position possible even for a vampire?

Edward let out a manly squeak and jumped off the couch. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Carlisle looking at him with worry and Jasper burying his face in his arms. Edward escaped to the sanctuary of his room to the twinkling sounds of laughter.

Sometimes reading minds really sucked.

[smilesoftnsweet.livejournal.com]

Supernatural/BtVS, Sam/Faith, tequila and lime

[morgan-cian.livejournal.com]

Sam grinned as he set up in the bed, messy sheets pooled around his naked hips. "Where have you been?"

Faith smirked, her robe opened to reveal her naked beauty. "Look what I found." She waved the bottle back and forth, "Tequila and lime."

Sam pulled her forward by her hips, sliding his hands around to cup her ass. "What about salt?"

She leaned forward and nipped his ear, "I thought you can handle that." She hissed and bucked into his touch as Sam's long fingers teased her between her legs.

"Sounds like a plan."

[lorilann.livejournal.com]

Fight Club, Angel/Narrator (Jack), destroy

[samescenes.livejournal.com]

I have never seen a Fight Club prompt here before. You are awesome. I hope I do this justice :/

****

He’s never looked the same. He didn’t go to a hospital – none of you ever do.

After a while, even the dull-eyed, late-night nurses look at you funny when you’ve forgotten all your previous excuses and say you’ve walked into a car door for the third time in a row.

His hair is still shockingly, shockingly yellow, but his face is purple and yellow and green, and if he laughs too wide you can see where you’ve knocked the teeth out.

You’ve destroyed him. You find you like the thought.

Sir, he says to you – he doesn’t bow because that’s not what Fight Club is, you can’t stop bowing down to Egyptian cotton sheets just to bow down to the man – men, if you count Tyler – who birthed you this new life.

He doesn’t bow, but he shows you the proper respect.

You can have your own life now, you say to him. Gucci underwear, snake-skin boots, houses with stained-glass windows – he could take his pick.

I don’t think I can, anymore, he says.

You don’t think you can either.

You reach out and touch a bruise under his eye. You can feel a crack under his skin, where the cheekbone has healed crooked.

[darkmagic-luvr.livejournal.com]

Dollhouse, DeWitt/Topher, tokens of appriciation

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

"You wanted to see me?"

She's sitting on the edge of the chair when he walks into the control room, but rises as he enters, giving him a polite smile.

"Yes. Come in, Topher."

"Yeah... I will, since I... kind of work here. Why did you want to see me here, anyway?"

There's something about the whole situation that unnerves him, making him wonder what it is that's being kept from him. She left him a brief, rather cryptic message that simply said to meet her in the control room to receive a token of her appreciation.

However promising that might have sounded, Topher was anxious and unsettled -- and moreso when he saw the two large, silent members of the security staff accompanying her.

"Well, it was the scene of the crime, wasn't it?"

"Uh... yeah. Her crime," he hastned to remind her. "Echo's... Caroline's... whoever she was. I did everything i could to try to stop her..."

"Yes, I could see that. I'm sure the weeping and pleading would have been completely effective if I'd just given you a few more moments before intervening."

A chill went down his spine at the cool derision in her voice as he protested, "Hey, that... wasn't my fault! Having a gun to my head is not part of my job description!"

Instantly her smile faded, a dangerous gleam in her eyes as she snapped, "Doing whatever it takes to keep this place running and functional is your job description!"

Topher held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, taking an unconscious step backward toward the door as Dewitt rose from her perch on the chair and moved toward him, her arms crossed angrily over her chest.

"O-okay... okay, you're right... shutting up now..."

"Yes, that would be wise."

Dewitt seemed to settle a bit with his submission, sighing and shaking her head as she leaned back against the wall instead of the chair. Still, Topher felt the sick sensation in his stomach intensifying as he wondered again what this strange meeting was all about.

"I... d-don't have to remind you how I nearly died as a part of our big plan to protect this place..."

She smiled with a slow, patient nod. "I'm aware of that, Topher. I was there. And, truth be told, I'm beginning to suspect that perhaps the position you've been given is a bit too... dangerous, for your particular skillset."

"Um... okay. That... sounds good. You going to give me more security from now on? Is that what the muscle is here for?" He gestured with a trembling hand toward the security guards, then hurriedly put his hand down again when he realized how badly it was shaking.

"Not exactly."

Warning bells went off in his mind, but the two guards had him by the arms before he could move. He tried to pull away, but he was not even close to a match for their strength as they dragged him toward the chair.

"Hey... hey, wait! What are you doing? What... stop it!"

"We highly value your contribution here, Topher," Dewitt offered by way of vague explanation. "I want you to know that. In fact... we value it too highly to allow it to ever be lost."

"What are you talking about? What are you doing?" Panic seized Topher and he tried in vain to escape as the men fastened the little-used restraints on the arms of the chair around his wrists and forearms, binding him into place.

"Restrain his head, too. It wouldn't do to have him moving during the procedure..."

Dewitt's voice was detached and unconcerned, and suddenly Topher felt a cold sense of despair building in the pit of his stomach. His breath was rapid and shallow, his heart pounding so hard and fast that he could feel it as he struggled to get out the frantic, trembling words.

"What procedure? What are you doing to me?"

"Something we should have done a long time ago. I can't believe we didn't think of it before. Your personality, memories, knowledge -- everything -- will be stored in the form of an imprint, which we will place into one of the dolls. Then, if something happens to that doll, it's not a crisis. We still have the imprint."

"What... but... but you can't! What about me?" His voice is panicked, a high, thready, near-scream by now.

She gives him a calm, almost benevolent smile. "Don't worry, Topher. You won't ever have to worry about any of this again."

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Leverage/AtS/RPS, Eliot/Lindsey/Chris, one hand two hands/bad hand good hand


... Ok. I'm going to bed now, I swear. When I'm convinced manipulating Seuss rhymes is a good idea...

[lorilann.livejournal.com]

Psych, Gus/Lassiter/Shawn, movie marathon

Fic:Psych, Gus/Lassiter/Shawn, movie marathon; PG

[aravistarkheena.livejournal.com]

Prompt: Psych, Gus/Lassiter/Shawn, movie marathon
Rating: G
Warnings: None.



“When you two invited me over for a movie marathon I was thinking ‘Die Hard’ and ‘Terminator’ not—“ Lassiter was cut off when Gus made a loud ‘shushing’ noise.

“Be quite, he’s just about to meet the skunk,” Gus said reproachfully and gave Lassiter a dirty look before reaching for another handful of popcorn and focusing his attention back on Bambi.

Lassiter gave Gus a bemused look and Shawn leaned over to whisper in his ear.

“You might want to grab some tissues before the dead mom scene starts. Gus tends to hog the box,” he told Lassiter confidentially before tossing a handful of M&Ms into his mouth.

It was going to be a long night.

[magnavox-23.livejournal.com]

Burn Notice/MacGyver, Victor/MacGyver, "try a little tenderness"

[ravensword.livejournal.com]

I don't know if I could actually do this because I don't really watch Burn Notice, but....somebody really needs to!

[merihn.livejournal.com]

SPN, Sam/Dean, (Smith/Wesson) in the elevator.

For Starters, SPN, Ssm/Dean (Smith/Wesson), in the elevator

[hunters-retreat.livejournal.com]

“Gonna push you face first into the wall and slide that jacket right off your shoulders.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Gonna flip open the buttons on your shirt as I press my hard cock up against your ass, make you squirm underneath me, make you want it so back you think you’re gonna come in your pants just from the feel of me.”

He paused, taking a deep breath, his eyes closed as he imagined exactly what he wanted to do. “Then I’m gonna pop the button on your pants and slowly slide the zipper down, dragging my palm down with it, feel how hard you are for me. Gonna slip my hand down those boxers of you’re and stroke you so good you come all over me. Gonna slick myself up with it and drag one of those suspenders off your shoulder so your pants are barely on, just that one little bit of elastic holding them. Gonna push ‘em down as far as they’ll go and fuck you against the wall until you’re coming again.”

“Fuck.”

“That’s what I said.” He smiled as he heard a car door slamming close to him. He opened his eyes and looked across the parking lot to see Dean on his cell.

“All that in the elevator?”

“For starters.”

He saw Dean looking, saw the moment he saw Sam as he opened the door of his car. He didn’t move to join Sam but there was a smirk on his face. “Meet you there.” He said, shutting his cell phone as he walked towards the office building.

Sam was right behind him.

[aravistarkheena.livejournal.com]

DCU; Tim Drake (Robin III)/Zachary Zatara; 'but flirting is a family tradition!'



*sniffles sadly* I hold out hope that someone will answer one of my prompts. They all seem to end up sad and Lonely. :(

[havenward.livejournal.com]

I wish I were familiar enough with either character to oblige you... it breaks my heart to see you sniffling!

Have you pimped the comm to friends you know write in DCU? We've got some banners over here (http://community.livejournal.com/comment_fic/4035.html) if you'd like?

:really hopes we get someone who'll write for you:

[merihn.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Merlin/Arthur/Lancelot, too much ale.

[entangled-now.livejournal.com]

It's Arthur who breaks the silence.

"You're the servant Merlin," he says imperiously. Though there's a lilt to the words, an unsteadiness, that suggests Arthur has already had too much to drink.

Merlin obeys the strange command, slipping Lancelot's goblet from his hand, fingers sliding across his wrist in a way that isn't accidental but slow and curious. Then Merlin is much closer, pressed into Lancelot, a collection of angles, warmth, and uncertainty, eyes searching Lancelot's face, looking for permission.

And for his life Lancelot can't help but give it, freely, completely.

Merlin's hands are at his waist, warm through the cloth, gathering the material in bunches while his breath flows over the edge of Lancelot's mouth.

Under orders, like a servant.

"I couldn't-" Lancelot starts, but Merlin has already found the hem of his shirt, is already pushing it up in one movement, hands flat on his skin, warming where they touch him; light enough to drag a breath out of him.

"It's alright," Merlin says quietly, and the words shake just a little. Lancelot thinks that it's fear, and the demand to stop this surges in his throat. But Merlin's fingers are dragging material up his chest in one long pull, drawing it over his head and dropping it behind. When his hands fall they find Lancelot's waist, fingers shifting on the skin, testing, stroking, and Lancelot breathes and curses himself for not saying a word.

Merlin takes this as permission too, bends into him, cheek sliding over his own, before his mouth opens on the curve of Lancelot's throat, a slow trail of tongue and teeth and hunger that leaves Lancelot's protests scattered.

Like his wits.

Because Merlin's mouth isn't afraid at all. Merlin's mouth is open, and greedy and reverent on his skin.

"Merlin," He doesn't mean to sound so helpless. Merlin breathes into his neck, nose skimming the edge of his jaw and Lancelot turns, finds the wet, open warmth of his mouth and presses his own against it. One hand finds the dishevelled mess of his hair, the smooth length of his neck. Lancelot kisses him like he's wanted to for days. He takes Merlin's enthusiastic response as his own permission, ignoring the way Arthur's chair creaks sharply as he shifts his weight. The way Merlin sighs between every press of his mouth.

Lancelot can't resist moving his own fingers, sliding them up under the edge of Merlin's shirt, and Merlin laughs, soft and breathless and raises his arms. Lancelot drags it over in one quick movement, leaves Merlin's hair canted at every possible angle, long lengths of bare skin pale under his own tanned fingers. His mouth reddens so quickly under pressure, but he seems more than willing to let Lancelot bruise it anyway.

There's a playful aggressiveness to his touches but still a taste of something newly curious underneath.

Lancelot lifts his head, finds Arthur in the dark.

He watches from his chair, goblet tilted towards the floor, contents long gone, either to the floor, or down his throat.

Merlin's fingers twitch and shift in Lancelot's hair, restless, while he watches him watching Arthur.

"Arthur," Merlin says simply, quietly.

Arthur slides out of the chair like it's a demand, knees on the bed behind Merlin, hands in his hair, dragging his head back up, and the noises that come out of Merlin's throat are deeper, silkier than before.

"Kiss him again," Arthur demands.

Lancelot obeys.

[trulybloom.livejournal.com]

The Sarah Connor Chronicles/Supernatural, John Connor/Sam Winchester. "why does your sister keep staring at us?"

My Own Heart, Terminator:SCC/SPN, John/Sam, why does your sister keep staring at us

[hunters-retreat.livejournal.com]

“Dude, why does your sister keep staring at us?”

They had a small moment of time, just a quick moment and the last thing he wanted to be thinking about was John’s sister but she was watching them and it made him uncomfortable.

“Why is your brother?”

Sam looked at John and shrugged. “He’s not very trusting. Paranoid and a little jealous.” It was a lot easier to say things like that since Judgment Day. People lost everything and if you had something, someone, to hold onto you did it however you could.

“Mine too.”

John kissed him hard and Sam moaned into it, into the feel of John’s hands hooked through his hair as he pressed them closer. He bit at Sam’s ear. “We could ask them to join.”

Sam let back his head and laughed, his eyes coming back to John’s blown dark with lust and desire. “You’re a man after my own heart.”

[trulybloom.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Dean/Incubus (played by Christian Kane) Dean is having trouble with this monster and Jensen is having trouble with this actor.

[kavidawn.livejournal.com]

Dean was in trouble. Which wasn’t anything new since generally Dean was always in trouble. Now he was pinned to the bed by the incubus, struggling and trying desperately to escape so he could go rescue Sam, although from what he couldn’t really remember. It didn’t matter, Sam was generally in trouble too. He didn’t realize that his struggling had turned into more of a rocking until he heard the low laugh above him and the director yelling cut.

Jensen stilled almost immediately, refusing to meet the eyes of the man still hovering above him, pinning him down. Because, yeah, Dean was supposed to be in trouble but Jensen was pretty sure that that trouble didn’t involve the rather impressive erection he was sporting. Again. Apparently the third time wasn’t the charm.

Of course, the man that was the cause of his problem found the whole thing way too much fun in Jensen’s opinion. Laughing and grinning and all around not seeming to care about Jensen’s embarrassment. Which pissed him off, because he was an actor and dammit he could get through a scene with a guest star without getting hard. Hell, he filmed with Jared all the time so you’d think he’d be used to controlling his reactions. But no, all it took was one scene with Christian Kane and all of his self control went down the drain.

Jensen gasped and stifled a groan as a thigh was pressed against his groin. He finally met the eyes of his friend, and the heat and promises in them made it difficult for Jensen not to arch up into the touch, to beg the man to do more than just touch. Luckily, or unluckily, for them, the director chose that moment to make sure everything was in place for take four, and were Jensen and Chris okay, and could they try to get it right this time? After getting agreement all around, though Jensen was pretty sure this take was just going to go like the previous three, there was a brief silence, and then the call of action.

Dean was in trouble. Which wasn’t anything new since generally Dean was always in trouble. Now he was pinned to the bed by the incubus and really, the last thing on his mind was trying to get out from under the creature that was gazing at him with heat and promise in its eyes.

[merihn.livejournal.com]

Primeval, Nick/Connor, skin.

[noxnoctisanima.livejournal.com]

Connor's skin was slick against his, sweat damp and naked, long plains laid out against white walls. Nick dipped his mouth, pressing it to Connor's throat, biting lightly against the pull of his breath and feeling the groan beneath his lips.

Connor's skin looked lovely against the white, darker and smooth, open for Nick's hands to move, sliding down his side and dipping into the soft skin in the hollow of his hip.

Connor was hard against him, already leaking and drawing wet streaks across Nick's thighs, pushing in, seeking friction only to have Nick pull back again with a smirk.

He whimpered, head thudding back into the plaster as Nick's hand finally wrapped around his cock, spreading precome down the shaft. Nick grinned at him and kissed him before dropping to his knees and pressing his mouth to the soft skin at the top of his thigh.

Nick's arms bracketed Connor's thighs, hands resting against the wall, as he licked his way down Connor's cock.

Connor's hips snapped forward as much as the tight space against the wall let him and Nick just opened himself against it, loosening his throat as much as his could. He could feel Connor's dick twitch against his tongue when he realised what Nick was allowing him. Long fingers slid into his hair and Connor's hips lifted off the wall carefully, as if testing his resolve, Nick just hummed and grinned when Connor's next thrust turned ragged.

There was precome on Nick's lips and Connor's thighs had begun to twitch and his thrusts fall apart. Nick dragged his teeth down lightly and Connor shuddered and came, fingers tangled in Nick's hair, hard against his scalp.

Connor was slumped against the wall, mouth open and red and Nick rested his face against his thigh, licked a little come from his lip and smiled in satisfaction up at him.

[hunters-retreat.livejournal.com]

Terminator:SCC, John/Derek, why me?

[smaragdbird.livejournal.com]

John explained why he needed to send a team back: destroy SkyNet, prevent Judgement Day and protect him if necessary and possible. In that order because he had already sent Cameron back for his own protection and he trusted her even if Derek never understood why.
Afterwards John made Derek wait, which in itself was nothing unusual but as soon as the last one had left, John turned to Derek and said:
'I want you to go with the team.'
'Okay.' Derek answered slowly. John could see that he had scratched the skin were his barcode was tattooed until he had drawn blood, again.
'Why me?' Derek was a good soldier but John knew him long and good enough to hear the hurt and confusion in his voice. They had barely seen let alone spoken with each other since Derek had come back from his imprisonment and Kyle's...disappearance.
John had anticpated that question but he couldn't answer it truthfully.
Why you?
Because you didn't come back last time
Because I like you just a bit too much
Because I want you to be happy
Because you're my uncle and really shouldn't have kissed you that first time
Because now I know for certain that one day you won't come back and since I can't prevent that I can at least pick the day.
Out loud he said:
'After what happened with Kyle and Cameron I know that you don't trust me. I don't need a soldier whose trust I don't have.'
John close his eyes once the door had fallen shut behind Derek.
It's better this way, trust me.

[hunters-retreat.livejournal.com]

Dark Angel, Alec/Logan, bleed

[hunters-retreat.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, John/Bobby, those boys need something normal

[myinkyfingers.livejournal.com]

“For god’s sake John, listen to yourself for once. Are you actually thinking about what you’re saying?” Bobby’s voice was husky with emotion, the pain and love and want and deed that were all rushing through him.

“I don’t care, Bobby, I want us to be together, all four of us. You know we’ve always worked better as a team. I can’t raise the boys on my own, I need you.”

“Oh, John, don’t you know how much I wish we could be together, but it’s 1986, and those boys need SOMETHING “normal” in their lives. What with all the moving around, demons, hunting, and now with their Mom gone, the last thing they need is for me to step in and confuse things. You know as well as I do that it’s best for me to just be a ‘sometimes’ uncle, not a permanent one.”

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

House, House/Wilson, handcuffs

House, (pre)House/Wilson, handcuffs

[little-dumpling.livejournal.com]

The metal dug into James' wrists as he eyed the police officer across the table warily.

The light in the room was much too bright and the blood on his clothes had begun to seep through to his skin and dry. The itch it created was almost unbearable.

"James Evan Wilson, 40-years-old, Oncologist at Princeton Plainsborough Teaching Hospital." The officer read off the file.

James closed his eyes at let himself slump forward as far as he could in his chair.

"Is he-" James' breath hitched. "Is he alright?"

The police officer frowned at the doctor, "I'm surprised you would care. After all, he came at you with the knife."

James tilted his head and looked up at the officer, "I still..."

"I understand. He's fine, just a lot of stitches." The policeman looked at him sympathetically. "Unfortunately, when the police tried to pull you apart, you gave the officer a good smack in the face. So you'll be staying overnight if you can't make bail."

James nodded and lowered his head. His emergency contact was House so that meant he'd be in jail until the morning.

Not a second after that thought ran through his mind, there was a knock at the door and another officer poked his head in.

"Someone made bail for him."

The officer across from him released his wrists quickly and lead him from the room.

Stooped at the main desk, House stood signing something an officer was walking through. It's not that James doubted that House viewed him as a friend, but sometimes he wasn't sure it mattered. House wasn't exactly what you would call a good friend.

Reaching the desk, he watched House turn, his eyes quickly flicking over him as if to analyse whose blood he was sporting.

James was most surprised by the sad look in House's eyes.

"You alright?"

James nodded and looked at the ground.

"Lets go then."