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

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Buffy, Spike/Angel, payback

[lucy-ash.livejournal.com]

Author: LAsh
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Title: Payback
Characters: Spike, Angel, Drusilla
Rating: Mature for violence
Disclaimer: Not my characters. Not making any money.

“A bit disappointing now, isn't it pet?” Spike asked as Drusilla dragged him towards their chained victim.

“Little tick-tock is returning,” she said.

“Yeah,” Spike said sarcastically. “Whatever that means.” Stepping over a weeks worth of corpses, that stank of dead humanity and which maggots were making into worm food, he added, “This is getting boring. Let's just kill him and move on.”

“Now, now, no need to be rude. Not when the party's just getting started.”

“Spike,” Angel said, raising his head as if exhausted. Spike and Drusilla stepped over the corpses towards their chained Sire.

“Well, well. Look who's finally woken up,” Spike said with a smirk.

“What's all this?” Angel asked, nodding down towards the corpses. Their throats had been viciously torn out, as if by a wild animal.

“You were very hungry,” Drusilla replied.

“No. I wouldn't have.”

“That's the thing. You really haven't been... yourself since you came back from hell. We had to bloody them up a bit before you'd feed but once we did, well, instinct took right on over.” Spike grinned as Angel gagged at the image.

“Would you like another?” Drusilla asked. “I found the sweetest little boy over by the playground the other night. Oh,” she added, looking confused, “but he's dead.”

“Never,” Angel whispered.

“No matter,” Spike replied confidently. “You're yourself again. Time to play a new game. Now, where did I put that knife?”

As Spike turned towards Angel, blade glinting in the candlelight, Angel said, “You can't kill me with that thing.”

“Who said anything about killing you? Going to cut your heart out. A gift for my dark lady.”

Over Drusilla's singsong, Angel said, “Thought you weren't going to kill me.”

“Wood,” Spike replied. “Wood to the heart kills you. Believe it or not, this won't. Hell”, he laughed, “maybe I'll even wait for it to grow back and cut it out again.”

“Again?” Drusilla asked. “Oh Spike, I could have a trail of hearts, all over our pretty, pretty home.”

“That you could, luv,” he said, pulling her in for a kiss.

“Why?” Angel whispered.

Breaking off from the kiss and playing the knife against Angel's chest, nicking just enough to draw a bit of blood, Spike replied, “Because I can.” He pushed the knife in. Over Angel's screams he added, “Because I want to.” Pulling the knife out, he made a shallow cut just below Angel's heart. “Remember Valentine's Day, when you gave Dru a heart? Payback is a bitch.”

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Dollhouse, Topher/Caroline, payback

[darkmagic-luvr.livejournal.com]

Topher wasn't paying any attention to his surroundings. he knew them well enough, so he didn't have to. He was trying to write out the perfect formula; a sweet girl who was so kinky underneath that she would fit perfectly into a BDSM club. He was thinking something along the lines of Jenny from the L Word when suddenly he couldn't see anything.

His head was throbbing when he managed to open his eyes. he was staring up at the ceiling, his head spinning slightly. It took a moment to realize that he was sitting in the chair, and something was sitting in his lap.

"So how does this thing work, anyway?"

"Echo?" The brunette's eyes narrowed and Topher swallowed. "Caroline."

"Surprised?"

She had one of the memory drives in her hands, turning the little black box over in them, examining it. Topher shook his head, his mind racing to figure out a way to get out of the situation.

"Not exactly. What are you doing?"

"Payback," said Ech-Caroline, with a nonchalant shrug. Like she was there out of boredom. She shifted in his lap and Topher's eyes snapped down to where she was sitting on him...quite provocatively. He couldn't help but ask.

"What kind of payback?" Caroline smirked at him, tossing the black box over her shoulder so it smashed into the floor.

There goes million, right down the toilet, thought Topher, morning his technology, until Caroline leaned forward, her chest brushing against his as her lips brushed against his ear. he felt her smirk against his skin and tried not to swallow at her words.

"The worst kind."

[merihn.livejournal.com]

Skins (S1), Maxxie/Tony, not a pity fuck.

[lorilann.livejournal.com]

The Sarah Connor Chronicles/Supernatural, John Connor/Sam Winchester, bringing Dean and Cameron in to play

The Same To You, Termintor:SCC/SPN, John/Sam, bringing Dean & Cameron In to Play :P

[hunters-retreat.livejournal.com]

I love you for this prompt :P


“You know what she is, right?” Sam nodded because he was psychic after all and John knew it. “You don’t care?”

“You know who he is…” Sam answered back, because it really was his brother they were talking about.

John smiled that crooked smile and Sam knew his answer. He pressed forward, his lips catching John’s. When he pulled away from the kiss, he didn’t look at the man before him though. He looked at his brother, looked up and beckoned him with an arch of his brow, nothing more.

Cameron moved closer because Dean was which meant more of a threat to John and she couldn’t care the slightest about privacy when his safety was at stake. When Dean got close enough Sam reached a hand into his leather jacket and pulled him forward into a brutal kiss. “Dean, you’ve met John…” He said with a smile. Like they hadn’t gone into fights together, hadn’t been there when they’d starting forming a resistance together.

“Sam?” John said with a light laugh in his voice. “Go meet Cameron.”

Dean filled the space that Sam left and he only let himself watch his brother pressed John back into the wall for a minute before he turned to see the metal before him.

“I already know you.” She said. Sam nodded. “Why did he tell you to meet me?”

“He meant something a little more intimate.” She turned her head slightly. “He wants you to join us.”

“If you hurt him I’ll kill you.” She said calmly.

Sam smiled. “Dean will say the same to you.”

Cameron smiled. “I think…. I should go meet Dean.”

[barhaven.livejournal.com]

Heroes/Supernatural, kid!Gabriel and kid!Dean, waiting for dad

Milkshake (SPN/Heroes, waiting for dad)

[speccygeekgrrl.livejournal.com]

Gabriel didn't trust diners any more. He got nauseous every time they stopped at one on a long drive, like today, going down to Virginia to drop off his mother with his aunt. "Because she's not feeling well," his father said, but Gabriel was pretty sure it was because she was going crazy again. She'd done that twice already since--

Since they became his mom and dad, he told himself firmly, already very good at avoiding unpleasant memories.

At least on the drive there, Mom was with them; on the drive back it was just Gabriel and Dad, and whenever Dad got up from the table Gabriel would clench his fists and hope that he wasn't about to be passed over to another set of parents.

This particular diner was somewhere in the middle of Jersey, and this was the first time Gabriel was allowed to sit up at the counter. He got a strawberry milkshake, and while he sat there sucking on the straw, his father patted him on the shoulder and said, "Stay here, son, I'll be right back."

"You look like a fish," a boy three seats down the counter said, making a face to imitate Gabriel's-- big eyes, pursed lips. "Fish with glasses." He couldn't have been more than six, freckle-faced and rude; Gabriel was at least three years older, way more mature, but he rose to the bait.

"Fish don't wear glasses, dummy," he said scornfully, and the freckle-faced boy laughed, loud but kind of a nice laugh, a real one that wasn't mean. "Who are you?"

"I'm Dean... Martin. Dean Martin." When Dean smiled, Gabriel could see a gap between his front teeth. "Who're you?"

"Gabriel Gray." Gabriel's head tilted to one side when Dean went oooh. "What?"

"Like the angel Gabriel. That's a good name to have," Dean said, and Gabriel smiled, because no one ever said that to him, only his mom, and she said it like a sap. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm waiting for my father," Gabriel said, glancing toward the bathrooms. When he looked back at Dean, the younger boy was staring at the diner door.

"Yeah, me too," he said quietly. He sounded almost as unhappy to be alone as Gabriel felt, and Gabriel only thought about it for a second before he pushed the tin cup full of extra milkshake (one of the only good things about diners, in his opinion) toward Dean.

"Do you like strawberry?" Dean's eyes lit up, and Gabriel was surprised at how green they were.

When the waitress behind the counter gave Dean a straw, he looked just like a fish when he drank his milkshake too. "A fish with freckles," Gabriel said, and they both laughed, for a moment not worried about where their fathers were.

[merihn.livejournal.com]

RPS, Rob Pattinson/Zac Efron, taken.

[amato.livejournal.com]

lmao! that's a fab icon

[merihn.livejournal.com]

SPN, Sam/Dean, power.

Power, SPN, Sam/Dean, power

[hunters-retreat.livejournal.com]

Sam could see the future. He had visions of what would come to pass and he had the power to stop them.

Sam could move things with his mind. It wasn’t always steady and sometimes it didn’t work, but the power was there and the more he tried to do it, the better he got. He used it to throw Dean to safety and to knock things out of his way as he charged into the fight.

Sam could destroy demons with his mind. He could exorcise them and send them back to hell, or he could destroy them completely. He could cleanse the world of them someday, if given the time and place.

It was nothing though, because Dean controlled him. When Dean crawled up his body and pressed into Sam, there wasn’t a thing in the world that could touch him. When Dean smiled at him with that half smile, the crooked one that wasn’t so cocky or self-assured, that was just pure Dean, nothing in the world existed for Sam.

They all feared Sam for what he could do, but none of them understood that Dean was the one with the real power.

[lorilann.livejournal.com]

The Sarah Connor Chronicles/Supernatural, John Connor/Sam Winchester/Dean/Cameron, meet and greet

Better Than A F'ing Barbie, TSCC, SPN, John/Sam/Dean/Camerson, meet and greet

[hunters-retreat.livejournal.com]

“Dean.”

He didn’t need to hear anything else to get his attention. He’d been attuned to his brother his entire life. Living as hunters and then as survivors only made it stronger. He looked at the metal at Sam’s side, the way she watched him with eyes that calculated and planned. Didn’t make a difference to him. He did the same thing. Calculated how to kill her before she could get to Sam, how to slow her down long enough for the two others to get away. He was one of the few that knew what and that only because Sam had told him.

Dean smiled at Sam softly, felt John’s hands pull at him, leaving his back pressed to John’s chest as Cameron came over to stand between their legs. “I think I need to meet you Dean Winchester.” She said softly and he could see when personality programming kicked in because she licked her lips and smiled a slow sensuous smile. “I think John wants us to be good friends.”

Dean put a hand out over her hips and tugged lightly, knowing if she didn’t want to come he couldn’t make her. “Oh I think the four of us will get along just fine.” He said as she pressed herself against his body. When she leaned up, her lips touching his briefly, he pushed into her, his mouth sealing over hers. He felt Sam behind her, felt his hand on her hip, felt John’s hand on his own, his erection pushing up into Dean. He had no idea how Sam got them into this, but he sure as hell wasn’t complaining.

John’s hands were working at his pant button and Sam was working on Cameron’s. He felt the cool air as his pants were pushed down, felt the way John moved behind him and knew that he wasn’t the only one feeling it. John didn’t mess around though and he was pressing a finger inside Dean almost before he knew what was happening.

He bit into Cameron’s lip as he moaned into John’s movements. She might be metal underneath but she could moan and act the part as well as any woman he’d met. Her pants were off and he could see Sam’s falling to his ankle as he watched. “Gonna fuck her Sammy?” He asked, wetting his lips as he watched Sam pulling her out of Dean’s legs and against the wall. His brother was beside him then, sinking into Cameron’s tight body.

“Better than a fucking Barbie.” Sam said with a laugh.

“Barbie?” Cameron asked and Dean could tell she was curious and had no idea what Sam was talking about.

Sam laughed as Dean leaned over, pulling Sam in for a rough kiss. John chose that moment to pull his fingers free. He lined himself up and started to sink slowing into Dean. He moaned into Sam’s mouth as John bit into his shoulder. “Jesus…. Barbie… a doll that was supposed to be the perfect woman. Not perfect, just annoying.”

Sam and John matched thrusts, their rhythm as good in this as it was on the battlefield. The pace was driving Dean mad but suddenly there was a hand on his cock and John was stroking him while Sam reached over and cupped his balls, rolling them as he continued to fuck his mouth with his tongue.

Dean spilled all over John’s hand, coming first and hardest. Sam’s hips sputtered to a halt a minute later and John managed a handful of thrusts before he bit into Dean’s shoulder again, signaling his own release.

When his breathing was back to normal, Dean pulled away from John, settling his clothes back and taking a deep breath as he watched the other three doing the same.

He smiled as he leaned back against the wall where John was still leaning. “You know… if this is what you do at your meet and greets, it’s no wonder everyone joins up.”

“I am.” Cameron said suddenly, looking between John and Sam and Dean. “Better than a fucking Barbie.”

The three men exchanged looks and started laughing. Cameron didn’t seem amused, but then John had an arm around her shoulder, leading her away from the brothers.

Sam smiled at Dean. “At least we know she’s anatomically correct.”

[bloodyfire.livejournal.com]

“What’s a shiatsu massage?” Logan asked his boyfriend while getting ready for bed.

“No idea,” Alec replied, “but we’re doing it.” He said with a smile climbing into bed and waiting for the other.

He had heard the word somewhere earlier that day and suggested to the cyber-journalist that they try it. Didn’t really matter what it was all the transgenic cared about was that it would lead to sex. And oh how he loved sex.

“As long as this doesn’t wind up like that one time you suggested we use honey,” Logan said joining his lover and pulling Alec close.

[danse-amore.livejournal.com]

Dean set the plate down in front of Castiel. The angel looked at it, then back at Dean, waiting.

"Uh," Said Dean. "It's pie."

"I do not need to eat, Dean." The angel's eyes didn't leave his, and Dean raised a shoulder uncomfortable.

"I know, I know. Just...we have to wait it out, right?" His eyes flicked to the doors and windows, the lines of salt there almost luminous in the dim room. "And let me tell you, if there's one thing I've learned in this life, it's that there's nothing better for settlin' a stomach than corner-store pie." The corner of his mouth lifted, and he gave the last words a sort of southern drawl.

Castiel lifted the fork and tasted a bit, delicately. Dean watched, nonsensically nervous. The angel's lips closed around the bit of apple and he swallowed. He set down the fork and stood up, eyes flicking back up to Dean's, and the hunter was sure they always would, no matter where he was, in battle, in hell, in heaven, Castiel could pick him out from the crowd without trying.

Castiel took a step forward, moving around the edge of the table. Dean didn't move back, and maybe he should have because Castiel's hands were suddenly cupping his face, and Dean's protests were muffled against chapped, gentle lips. The angel pulled back, and Dean took a moment to just stare at his eyes (how often did he stare back, rather than just notice that Castiel was staring at HIM?) and notice how impossibly blue they were before Castiel was pushing the pie back across the table. Dean glanced down at it, utterly confused. "Dude, what the HELL? What just..." He trailed off, because Castiel's lips were curved upwards at the edges and he was forced to wonder whether finding an angel adorable was a sin.

"You are better than pie." Castiel said simply, and sat back down at the table.

[darkmagic-luvr.livejournal.com]

Firefly/Supernatural, Sam/River, dreams

[havenward.livejournal.com]

She knows his name is Sam.

He's a nice boy. A sad boy. Swallowed by fire and the black, and he doesn't even know why, doesn't see the golden eyes that twinkle like stars while he sends out the ones that come for her two by two, two by two, two by two.

Sometimes his dreams are nice, though. Something silly half remembered, usually about his brother the hero. The one with the silly string all over the Impala's mess hall is her favorite, green and pink tangling all over them when they wrestle each other to the floor. She likes the blond girl too, and her sweet soft kisses, even if she is a ghost.

It's okay. River is a ghost too, always peeking on other people's dreams. She doesn't dream her own anymore.

[smilesoftnsweet.livejournal.com]

RPS, Jared Padalecki/Taylor Kitsch, meeting in a Vancouver gay bar

[hawk-dancing.livejournal.com]

No fic but I think you killed me with your icon. ::thud::

[hunters-retreat.livejournal.com]

SG-1, Jack/Daniel, so not home for the holidays...

SG-1, Jack/Daniel, so not home for the holidays: All These Years

[jaxon-knight.livejournal.com]

All These Years


"Y'think maybe you're taking this whole anti-Christmas thing a little too far?"

"What? Who said I was anti-Christmas?"

"Uh, let's see. Before we were captured by Ares' Jaffa, I invited you to spend Christmas with me at the cabin, and you said you had translations to do. Last year, I invited you to spend Christmas with me in the Bahamas, and you said you had staff to train. I asked you to spend Christmas with me two years ago, right there in the Springs, and you said you just had to spend Christmas with this glowy chick instead. Sounds to me like a classic case of holiday avoidance to me."

"'s'not. I like Christmas just fine. And the glowy chick shouldn't count."

"Ah. Well then. It's a classic case of Jack-avoidance, obviously."

Daniel sighed carefully, so it wouldn't trigger another coughing fit. "Because it's always all about you. Obviously."

"What's your point?"

"No point. None at all." He grimaced. "I'm just... gonna sleep for a while."

"Mmm-no, how 'bout you don't?"

"Jack," he said softly, "let it go. Just-- just let it go."

"No, I'm not gonna let it go. We were in the middle of a discussion about Giza before the snakehead interrupted us. You were gonna tell me everything you know about the place. Not the pyramids and dynasties and pharaohs and stuff like that. Everybody knows that touristy crap. I want to know what it was like to grow up there. I want to know what you used to do for fun, what you did that you weren't supposed to. What your parents did when they caught you being a brat--"

"You don't need to do this."

"Yeah, I really do. Now, give with the history lesson, Doctor Jackson!"

"Please, Jack, let me go. There's nothing more you can do, and I can't... oh, god, it really fucking hurts, and I can't--"

"So!" Jack said loudly, easily drowning out Daniel's quiet voice. "How does Christmas in the desert get celebrated, anyway? I'm not sure you can even really have Christmas without snow, can you? How is that done, exactly? I'm not really seein' the allure of tinsel on a fig tree, either, or on an olive tree, for that matter... that's just... wrong. Christmas should be celebrated in Minnesota, or not at all, I'm sure you'd agree... "

There was nothing but labored breathing from the other occupant of the tiny cell.

Jack heaved a put-upon sigh. "Okay, be that way.” Determinedly, painfully, he dragged himself on his side across the stone floor to where Daniel lay in a crumpled heap, right where the Jaffa had kicked him. There was a large brown spot, dried now, where Daniel had nearly coughed up a lung afterward. Bastards.

With effort, Jack managed to haul himself into a sitting position against the wall. He gave himself another whole minute to catch his breath from that exertion and the searing pain it'd caused, before he started to drag Daniel to him by the collar of his shirt, making Daniel groan piteously.

"Oh, did I wake you?” Jack snarked through gritted teeth. "I'd apologize," Jack grunted, "but I think I mentioned the part about no sleeping, so ya get what you deserve." He shifted his grip underneath Daniel's armpits in order to manhandle his head and shoulders into his lap.

"God, Jack, what the fuck...?" Daniel sobbed, the arm that wasn't crushed wrapped around his broken ribs. That led into another coughing fit, and Jack hoped to god Daniel wouldn’t be able to feel Jack's tears falling into his hair as he held him through it.

"Was that really necessary?” Daniel gasped, letting his head fall heavily against Jack's thigh. "And I wasn't asleep. I don't think," he added. He swallowed painfully, and tried to clear his dry throat. "Um... Christmas outlawed everywhere but Minnesota, right?"

Continued here: http://jaxon-knight.livejournal.com/4587.html

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Dollhouse, Topher/Victor, oral fixation

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

This is a rare opportunity.

Victor's latest client didn't want a full, elaborate history -- a complex character with whom to perform a detailed role play. No, this particular client had asked for a doll who wouldn't speak, wouldn't object, wouldn't interrupt his pleasure with any annoying self-interested requests.

Basically -- he wanted a pretty boy doll who lived to suck cock.

Topher knows that imprinted desire isn't specific to the client alone. He knows because he programmed it himself, with this very moment in mind, when he might get the opportunity to take a few meager perks from his job here.

"Hey, Victor," he murmurs as he unzips his pants, glancing toward the closed and locked door to the control room, making sure he's positioned far enough from the windows so as to be beyond view from the ground floor. "I've got something for you..."

He didn't bother changing his name for this assignment.

For this assignment, Victor might as well have not had a name at all.

Topher smiles with contentment as the doll eagerly begins to execute his programming, and leans back against the chair for support.

Sometimes, he really loves his job.

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Being Human, George/Mitchell, topping from the bottom

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Their roles are very well defined, and clear to anyone who knows them at all.

Mitchell has the more dominant personality, while George is content to simply let him take charge, take the lead in this unconventional relationship that's developed between them.

But there are days when all that changes.

There are days when George comes home angry and frustrated and on the verge of furious tears -- and struggling to hold it all back. He tries to hold it together for the sake of the others, tries not to bother them with his issues.

But Mitchell knows him too well.

George is much more comfortable with allowing Mitchell to take him than with the idea of taking Mitchell himself.

"I don't want to hurt you," he insists, with that gentle softness in his voice that only makes Mitchell love him more.

So Mitchell finds another way to let George take the lead on those occasional dark nights, when his entire life feels like it's out of control.

It feels good to let go for a little while, to lie back and let George control their pace, covering his skin with bites that hurt just enough while driving down onto him with enough force to make Mitchell hiss back a groan of mingled pain and pleasure.

He holds it back -- because George would stop if he thought he was hurting him.

But Mitchell craves the pain.

George doesn't know it -- but Mitchell lives for George's bad days.

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, bodyguard

Bodyguard, Merlin, Arthur/Merlin

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

Merlin always stands on the King’s right when Arthur attends court. It’s just the way of things. After all, there are many knights willing to quite literally die for their most beloved King – but it’s Merlin’s job. Ever since that first dagger had been hurled at Arthur…well.

And Arthur revels in the attention he – they – claims from the court and any visiting dignitaries. Merlin’s eyes are constantly golden now; a result of too much magic and living in a state of constant vigilance, always wary, always looking for the next threat, the next enemy, the next weapon. So everyone stares, whether they mean to or no, because everyone has heard tales of what Merlin can do – the greatest sorcerer Albion has ever seen, maybe even the known world…

It’s rumoured that Merlin can turn himself into a huge and fearsome beast, that he can hear a whisper from across the kingdom, that he can smell plots and taste trouble, that he can boil the seas dry and turn the lakes red with blood.

Most, if not all of these, are true.

All of this power, all the fear and love and hate that Merlin’s golden eyes and sharp gaze invoke – it all belongs to Arthur, because there’s another story that’s been doing the rounds since before the King was crowned. Merlin is Arthur’s man. Always has been and always will be.

And so he stands at the King’s side, walks with him and talks with him and laughs with him even when the King will have no other near him – and he’ll lean an elbow on the top of the King’s throne, and he’ll turn that golden stare on the court, and no one with a grain of common sense will even think of attacking the King, because Merlin is Arthur’s, and Merlin’s power is Arthur’s to do with what he will.

[lorilann.livejournal.com]

Fight Club, Angel/Narrator (Jack), beauty

[guiltyreasons.livejournal.com]

It's something I would never have done before.

I've been watching him for days. Watching him fight like any of the other men, but he's different. They don't hit him in the face as often. It's like they avoid beauty on purpose. Even in this world they kept something sacred, think they can find something worth keeping.

Even Tyler treats him different, like he's special. I'm the one that started this with him, I should be the only special one. Angel is nothing more or less than anyone. The power he has is all a gift of luck from his genes, from his hump happy parents, from societies preference for his beautiful eyes.

I've fallen under his spell before. I've been taken by those eyes, fallen into those lips and taken advantage of that firm ass. Never again, I'll make sure no one treats him different ever again, especially not Tyler.

My punches keep coming, I'm breaking out that makes Angel special. I'm bringing the man down to my level, just like I want to bring the rest of the world down to me. No one will ever be treated as better again, let alone this worth nothing pretty boy.

As I'm dragged away, my fists covered in blood, I've never felt more satisfied. I set out to do something and I made a difference. Isn't that what all great men of history do?

[cydonianknight.livejournal.com]

The Boat That Rocked, Carl/Mark, "How about it then?"

(Kind of a shot in the dark as the film's only been out a week in the UK but I can't get them out of my head!)

[noxnoctisanima.livejournal.com]

Carl pushed himself up on his elbows as the door opened. Mark leant in the doorway, hip against the frame and hair in his face. Carl waited for him to speak, but Mark just stood there watching him.

"Can I help you?" Carl swung himself off the bunk and stood to face Mark in the close quarters of the cabin.

Mark stepped into the room and shut the door behind him but didn't answer.

Carl started to squirm under his gaze, blushing a little and turning away. When Mark finally spoke it was so unexpected that Carl jumped a little and then, when he registered what Mark had said he blushed bright.

"I'm sorry? Can you say that again?" Carl's voice was incredulous.

"How about it then?" Mark grinned at him from beneath his fringe.

Carl opened his mouth to speak a few times, running his hand over his hair. But Mark obviously didn't take silence as a no, actually he seemed to take it as a yes.

He crowded Carl up against his bunk, fingers sliding underneath his sweater. Carl opened his mouth to comment but Mark kissed him and slid one hand down over Carl's cock, and as it turned out it really didn't care which gender hand was touching it.

Carl arched into Mark's hand and was pushed back onto his bunk, Mark's weight pressing him down into the mattress.

And if there were more interesting ways to lose your virginity Carl couldn't think of them.

[honeyjojames.livejournal.com]

RPS/Dollhouse, Doll!Chris/Handler!Steve, regrets

[havenward.livejournal.com]

He doesn't let them touch him as he carries him into the elevator, trembling and whimpering. Fear burned like fire in Steve's veins, because they'd all been taken for fools this time. He should have known, should have been closer. Should have been faster. He can only hope now that he had been fast enough.

They take the back route to Dr. Ferris' side of the facility, straight to surgery. Steve has to put him down now, but Whiskey doesn't let go, fingers tightening in his shirt. Just like then, when Steve had broken the door down and emptied a clip into the twisted son of a bitch client. "Do you trust me," Steve asked, and Whiskey didn't speak. Just clung to him with a bruising grip, like Steve was the only thing keeping him alive.

Ferris tries to keep him out of the room. But Whiskey won't stay still, even when sedated as much as she's willing to risk with so much blood loss. So Steve is kneeling at the head of the gurney, fingers carding lightly through his hair and making soothing noises in his ear. Whiskey tips his head to look at him, crystal blue eyes blinking closed, and Steve feels his gut twist again.

"Not your fault," Whiskey whispers as the drugs claim him and the doctors set to work. Steve doesn't answer, but he doesn't move either.

[honeyjojames.livejournal.com]

RPS, Goth!Chris/Goth!Steve, vibrator

Because you can't leave it there, dammit!

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Follows after this (http://community.livejournal.com/comment_fic/28993.html?thread=5192001#t5192001)...


It's a shock of wantneedfucknowPLEASE that makes him cry out, that pulls a string of mangled cursing from his lips. He'd swear anything, if he could, but the vibration against the beads inside tip him over the edge into complete incoherency. There's no release, though, not yet. He writhes, on the edge of desperation, on the edge of madness.

"Fuck," he groans, he begs. It's the closest he can get to asking because Steve turns the vibrator up a notch. Each breath now is a shuddering moan, and he rocks his hips back. There's no slap this time. Instead the vibrator kicks up again.

[honeyjojames.livejournal.com]

RPS, Goth!Chris/Goth!Steve, too much

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Follows directly off of this (http://community.livejournal.com/comment_fic/31258.html?thread=5739546#t5739546).


Christian squeezes his eyes shut and tries to remember to breathe. He wants to be fucked so much, needs to be fucked, that it hurts. He wants the relief of motion, of Steve's arms around him, of Steve inside him. He's been on the edge for so long, it's almost too much.

"Steve," he manages at last, puts everything into it because the next thing he says otherwise is going to have to be his safeword.

The vibrator disappears, and Steve's making soothing noises. Praises him as he rubs a circle at the small of his back, grounds him through the small torture of removing the beads. Chris whimpers softly, still trembling as he raises his ass to offer himself in the only way he has left.

"You're so beautiful, so beautiful," Steve murmurs. He kisses the base of Chris' spine. "On your back. I want to see your face."

Chris turns and lays back, spreads his legs and lifts his ass again. Steve takes his time, giving him time to breathe as he slicks himself. He peppers kisses along the inside of Chris' thighs, along the crease of his groin, the curve of his hip. He skips up to Chris's mouth as he lines up, the head of his cock pressing against his hole and teasing them both. His hips hitch up, and Steve moans against his lips.

"What do you want, Christian? Tell me."

"You," Chris answers, and there's nothing to his voice but rough need. "I want you to fuck me into the sheets."

He has barely enough time for another breath when Steve slams into him, hard and fast. Chris lets his head fall back, hips bucking to meet each thrust, each thrust hitting the mark. He reaches up to grip Steve's shoulders, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.

"Tell me, Christian," Steve growls above him, hips snapping as he picks up the pace.

"Come," Chris says. "Let... Let me, please."

Steve reaches between them and removes the ring, strokes him once, twice as he thrusts. Chris arches into him as he comes, fireworks and ecstasy and sweet, sweet release. He clings to Steve as he loses the rhythm and follows after, filling him. For a long moment they stay like that, just breathing. Then Steve stands, gets a cloth and cleans them.

He crawls back into the bed beside Chris, pulling the blankets up before pulling him closer. Chris settles his head on his shoulder and curls his arms around him. "Welcome home," he says into Chris' hair, pressing a kiss to his temple. Chris hums in agreement, tightening his arms, and then sleep claims them both.

[lorilann.livejournal.com]

T:TSCC/Supernatural, Sam/Dean, "You think John would let us play with Barbie again?"

Dirty, TSCC/SPN, Sam/Dean, YOu think John would let us play with Barbie again

[hunters-retreat.livejournal.com]

He turned over on his side, trying to get to sleep but it was hard the way Dean was tossing and turning. Sam sighed, thought about banging his head against the wall, thought about banging Dean’s head against the wall, but then Dean was right behind him, his hand gripping tightly to Sam’s hip.

He bit at the nape of his little brother’s neck as his hand moved down until his fingers were lightly skating over the edge of his waist band. Sam bit his lip to keep quiet. It wasn’t like they were alone, but if he kept quiet they were far enough away that no one would notice. He hoped.

Dean worked his button free and slid his hand down as the zipper gave way. Sam brought his hand up to his mouth, biting his fingers to keep quiet. His hips pumped up into Dean’s fist as he stroked Sam fast and hard.

He came quickly, heat and fear of discovery, right and wrong and shame and need all making it so much dirtier than it already was. Dean milked him through it, bringing his hand to Sam’s lips when he was done. Sam licked his hand clean and turned into Dean, his brother chasing the taste of come from his mouth.

The hard fall of boots made the brothers look up and Cameron stood above them, a small smirk on her face. They didn’t say anything and she moved past, the programmed emotion gone once they had witnessed it.

Dean dropped his head to Sam’s shoulder to stifle the laugh. Sam smacked him on the back of the head but he was smiling also.

“Hey Sam, you think John would let us play with Barbie again sometime?”

Sam groaned because really, it wasn’t dirty enough to be rutting against his brother in the nasty hallways of the current bunker. Dean had to want to add metal to the act too. Damned if it didn’t make him want to ask though.

[myinkyfingers.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, I can't pretend anymore.

[raphaela667.livejournal.com]

Probably not quite what you were looking for - but I hope you enjoy it!

It's like this when Arthur gets married. It's like - like he's been in love with Merlin for absolutely ever, and he knows now that it's not stupid, and he's not infatuated. Well, he is, but not just infatuated. He knows it's not going away - not ever, or possibly just not until they've bickered or fucked themselves to death. But his father is dying and he loves his land and his people, too, and he needs to rule them. And they won't have him without a queen. He knows that just as well as anyone else does, and Merlin keep reminding him anyway, eyes all gold and pointedly not a woman. Not someone Arthur could marry and crown, but the only one he'd ever want to.

And he thinks, sometimes, about not pretending anymore. Not courting noblewomen and flirting with widows to keep up appearances. Not having Gwen let it be thought she's in his bed every night and sending Merlin back to his own quarters at dawn. He likes to think what it would be like to stop pretending, but he can't. He can't without giving up his kingdom and he won't do that - Merlin wouldn't let him anyway. Merlin won't accept anything less than the best, and it's for that and that alone that he lies.

And the biggest lie - the one he tells to his people, to his father, to Gaius and to Morgana (especially to Morgana who can never know, except Merlin just laughs and says that there aren't any things Morgana doesn't know). The biggest lie in the one he tells when he and Merlin and Gwen spin a story - well, they don't make it up. They change it - so it was Gwen, not Merlin, who saved him from death (so very many times), and Gwen, not Merlin, who tended him afterward. So that Gwen fell in love with him and Merlin, ever the dutiful manservant, kept it secret. So that he and Gwen eloped for love, and then - months later, when he is crowned, and out of mourning - that the king's wife, his beloved, is barren.

And then, then he can have Merlin at his right at the table, and Gwen at his left - shamed, but never left, and elevated beyond her wildest dreams. Able to do good and rule over a Camelot that would never have killed her father, and won't see such injustice again. And Arthur?

Arthur doesn't pretend anymore.

[speccygeekgrrl.livejournal.com]

Heroes, Sylar/Noah, broken to be built again

[speccygeekgrrl.livejournal.com]

Lie to Me, Lightman/Loker, honesty is sometimes a really fucking bad policy

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

"What are you hiding?"

"W-what? What are you talking about? Hiding...?"

"The way you keep looking at me when you think I'm not looking... the way you pay more attention than anyone else to every little nuance... the way you're... blushing and avoiding eye contact right now..."

"Really, I d-don't have any idea what you're talking about..."

"You're not a very good liar, Eli."

"I'm not a liar at all, remember? I never lie..."

"Yeah... and that's what makes it so easy to tell when you do."

"... Huh?"

"You know, someone who lies consistently and frequently over a long period of time can develop the kind of skill that prevents their lies from being detected -- even by a professional like you or me. Someone who almost never lies, on the other hand... can't seem to hide a thing from anyone..."

"..."

"Well... what do you think that means?"

"I think it means that sometimes honesty is a really freakin' bad policy!"