Friday Free For All

[badfalcon.livejournal.com]

So, here we are. May 1st. Where has the year gone?
But, more importantly than that, it's Friday. Which can mean only one thing... It's time for FRIDAY FREE FOR ALL!!

Yup, you got it. Anything and everything goes. Any fandom, any pairing, any crossover, any prompt.

Just make sure to be nice to this codellama and her fellow codemonkeys by leaving your prompts in the proper format

For a single fandom: Fandom, Pairing, Prompt
Example: RPS, Chris/Steve, "I swear by my pretty floral bonnet, I will end you"

For a crossover: Fandom/Fandom, Pairing, Prompt
Example: The A-Team/Leverage, team centric, 'If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire...'

Don't forget that we have a lot of lonely prompts, so if you're not being inspired today, you can always adopt one of those

Comments

[sagaluthien.livejournal.com]

SPN/Twilight, Sam/Edward, bottom

[morgan-cian.livejournal.com]

He was so beautiful. Unreal and etherael, the sunlight made his skin sparkle.

"You hunters never get it right do you?" His slender fingers speared through Sam's hair. "Vampire aren't your enemies, sex between males is not wrong."

Sam arched into his touch, "Show me."

Edward's fingers breached him, teaching him that it did not make him less a man to be on the bottom. Edward showed him passion and lust. Sam rocked back harder and hard, wanting more.

Edward chuckled, soothing Sam's tense muscles with a gliding hand across his back. "Let go, Sammy."

His orgasm was hard and brutal, and unlike so many lovers before. Edward held him, kissed him, long into the mornings dawning light.

[honeyjojames.livejournal.com]

RPS, Steve/Kitty!Chris/Teen!Kitty!Chris/Kitten!Chris, purr

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Steve smiles as he leans against the door frame, gazing out onto the porch. The hammock hangs heavy with the three of them, sprawled out and tangled with each other in a way that only cat's can manage.

Christian (his Christian) is on the bottom ears twitching lightly as they swing gently back and forth. It's rare to see him so utterly comfortable and content in his feline form, at least without Steve giving him a good scritching. The teenager almost seems like he could fall out at any moment, tail dragging lightly across the floor boards and occasionally flicking about as h dreams, his head curled down onto Christian's shoulder and his arm curled protectively over the kitten.

The kitten, who is, of course, snuggled perfectly between the other two and purring out his heart's content.

[honeyjojames.livejournal.com]

RPS, Steve/Kitty!Chris/Teen!Kitty!Chris/Kitten!Chris, innocence

[badfalcon.livejournal.com]

Christian stretches out along the length of the couch, his head buried in Steve's lap. Steve's fingers are petting softly through his hair and his tail is swishing back and forth in pleasure, purr rumbling in his chest. He tips his head back, nipping and licking at Steve's wrist before settling down again; nudges and nuzzles to encourage Steve to keep petting. A smile curls his lips and his eyes slit half closed in contentment even as he keeps half his attention on the kids playing on the floor.

The teenager is sprawled out on his stomach, head pillowed on folded arms as he watches TV and texts on his phone. He's swishing his tail back and forth, chuckling softly as the kitten giggles and purrs and pounces on him; sucking and chewing on the tail, rolling over on his back and capturing it between all four paws, back legs kicking gently. Every so often the teenager stills and look over his shoulder, reminds the kitten to put his claws away when playing.

And the kitten will blink up at the teenager and hold his hand up, retracting his claws. He scrambles up over the teenagers back to lean over his shoulder and apologise, pressing a lick and a kiss to his cheek. Which is when the teenager pulls the kitten over, pets him until he's purring again, then tickles him and blows a raspberry against his belly to make him giggle.

Steve bends over and kisses Chris. "You're not getting all broody and wanting kids are you?" He frowns. "Or should that be kittens?"

Christian laughs softly and rolls over to look up at Steve. He cups Steve's cheek in his hand and returns the kiss softly. "No." He smiles and kisses Steve again. "I just... like watching them. I want them to stay like it. They're... they're happy. They don't know what it's like to be hurt, to grow up in a world where mutants aren't accepted. I don't want them to know what that feels like." A shudder runs through Christian and Steve pulls him up to hug him tightly, kisses away the tears that spilled over.

"They won't," Steve promises.

[moonchildfic.livejournal.com]

Leverage, re-aged!Eliot/Nate, Innocence and when it's lost again.

Innocence and when it's lost again, Leverage, re-aged!Eliot/Nate

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

Eliot sleeps in Nate's bed now - on a permanent basis and not just because he's had a nightmare and needs someone to hold him. Although there are still nightmares, of what Isadora did to him way back when, of what she's planning and what happened that one week Nate couldn't find Eliot anywhere.

But his worst nightmares are of losing Nate, and not like his childish nightmares of losing the older man. Those were vague fears of being left, and unloved, and abandoned. These are blood-soaked, death-shrouded and he wakes from them feeling like his heart's been ripped from his chest although, of course, it hasn't. Eliot makes sure to check when he wakes, just in case.

He's getting better at hiding the fact that he's having a nightmare, though - better at forcing his sleeping mind to be quiet, to keep the whimpers and the begging and the screams inside, to keep his body loose and untensed. At least he's only disturbing Nate occasionally, not every single night - although it makes the bad dreams somehow worse when there's no one awake to comfort him afterwards.

Sometimes Eliot gets up and gets a glass of water; sometimes he just sits up in bed for a while, forcing his mind to think of something else. No matter which, when he comes back to bed or lies back down, he always curls into Nate, who reaches in his sleep to pull Eliot in close, and he'll fist his hands in Nate's T-shirt and fall off to sleep staring at the man, trying to will him not to disappear.

*~*~*~*

Nate wakes up every single time Eliot has a nightmare - six nights out of seven, usually. But he keeps his eyes shut, and he lets Eliot go when he pulls away, even though it hurts and feels so, so wrong to do so.

He knows what Eliot dreams about, though. Remembers what Eliot told him when he was still a kid, and he hears the soft, painful mutterings now that Eliot's grown again, and Nate presses his mouth tight-shut to hold in the comforting words and instead he pretends to sleep, to allow Eliot his little dignity, and he pulls Eliot back to him like Eliot's some kind of teddy bear when Eliot comes back to bed.

And when Nate knows Eliot's fallen asleep, he opens his eyes and looks at the younger man, and he wishes, desperately and secretly, that he could have the little, innocent Eliot back again, just to stop the nightmares from being so bad.

[moonchildfic.livejournal.com]

Leverage, re-aged!Eliot/Nate, Nate legally (sort-of) adopts Eliot.

[kelsusie.livejournal.com]

rps/popslash, jensen/lance bass, "green eyes"

[morgan-cian.livejournal.com]

"You are going to learn," John snarled. He tightened the handcuffs around Dean's wrists binding him to the chair. "You are going to get your fool neck killed if you don't slow the fuck down."

"Dad," Dean opened his mouth only to shut it with a snap at the look in John's eye.

"Better, or I'll gag your sorry, ass." John mutter.

He made quick work of Dean's pants, boots, and boxers. Kneeling between his son's spread thighs, he looked up into the pretty green eyes.

"Slow." He said hoarsely. He worked his fingers of the silky smooth skin of Dean's inner thighs. He followed with his lips and tongue, feeling Dean squirm beneath his touch. The boy wisely kept his mouth shut.

He licked and tasted his son, hard soft steely flesh, broad wide head. Pushing his tongue into the slit caused Dean to moan. John aswered as the taste filled his senses.

"Dad, please," Dean begged.

"No, boy," John replied, "Slow."

John brought him to brink over and over again, alternating sucking pulls, delicate licks, rolling his son's balls in his hand.

"Now, baby," he whispered taking Dean once more. The thick come slid down his throat.

Panting, he leaned against Dean's thigh, "Learn your lesson?"

"I don't know, Dad," His boy had a shit eating sated grin, "You may need to teach me some more."

[morgan-cian.livejournal.com]

Abby found him in a much seedier club, destructive and needy asking for the wrong kind of attention to find what he needed.

He was so pretty, long and lean, his body rippled as he made his way across the floor. On his hands and knees, her leash on his collar, where he needed to be.

They watched the action, his arm wound around her calf, her hand in his hair. She put him on the St. Andrew's cross. A kiss to his shoulder.

"Safeword?"

His eyes screwed shut, "Dean."

She kissed him again, soothing him with a gentle sweep of fingers in his hair. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you....Sammy."

[honeyjojames.livejournal.com]

RPS, Werewolf!Chris/Steve, nuzzle

[morgan-cian.livejournal.com]

Steve laughed. Chris nuzzled his neck and nipped his skin. He cupped his lover's ass as he ground into him.

"Horny?"

Chris rumbled his approval as Steve released his cock. He worked the hardened flesh as Chris devoured his mouth. When he came, Chris grabbed Steve's hand and licked away his own come.

Steve was hard enough to hammer nails.

"You want my ass, don't you, boy?" Chris continued to writhe.

"You know I do," Steve gasped out. He pushed Chris back and shivered at the feral look in the bright blue eyes. Chris seemed to read him.

"Can smell you," Chris muttered, "Fear and arousal. I need you to fuck me but don't fear me. It's just lunar heat. I don't want anyone else to sate my needs."

Steve growled at that. "Only me."

"Only you."

[never-says-die.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Merlin/Possessive!Arthur, author's choice

It could be worse, Merlin, Merlin/possessive!Arthur - 1/2

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

Merlin has it easier than most of the servants in Camelot. He didn't think so at first - what with all the chores Arthur told him to do, it was a wonder Merlin had even managed to find time for self-pity, let alone actually thinking about it. But Gwen had quietly pointed out that the castle had specially designated laundresses, and seamstresses, and cooks/grooms/stable boys/scullery servants and that there was even someone specifically in charge of the royal kennels - and that there was no need for Merlin to wash Arthur's stinky clothes, or to mend the clean ones, or to cook Arthur's meals/brush Arthur's horse down/muck out Arthur's horse's stable/or to lug several buckets of hot water up several flights of stone steps for Arthur's bath.

So, yes. It could have been a lot worse - and those were just the menial chores. He'd heard stories, since arriving in Camelot, of serving girls forced to bed knights and soldiers and of the more fey of the kitchen boys made to service anyone who so chose. And yet no one's approached him since the end of his first week as Arthur's manservant. Oh, there'd been a couple before that when he'd been delivering medicines for Gaius, but he'd laughed it off, hadn't he, thinking it was because he was new and so hopelessly out of place, and that the men were having a little fun with him.

But now Merlin is starting to wonder. He knows Gwen is never, ever touched - although her status as Morgana's chief maid might keep her safe, Merlin knows what really protects her is the power Morgana has that backs up every move Gwen makes. He's heard tales of more than one man forced to leave Camelot, or to pay recompense, in order to avoid meeting Morgana in the tourney ring for some slight done to one of her favourites.

Arthur, though. Merlin has no such reassurance there, he knows, because Arthur might tolerate him, and it might amuse Arthur to order him around, but there is very rarely anything more to any kind of relationship between them...

And then one day Merlin's coming back from the forest outside the town with Gaius' herbs and bits of plant, and a knight bars his way, backing Merlin into one of the darker corners along the corridor. He doesn't even know the knight's name (well, there are so very many of them, aren't there?), but he does know he feels completely and utterly afraid for the first time in his entire life when the knight takes the basket from him and drops it to the floor, then leans in and crowds Merlin back until there really is nowhere to go and he's trapped and the man's hands are all over him, it seems, and he can't call out for help because it would be so embarassing...

But Arthur's there, suddenly, pulling the knight back and stepping between them, hand casually circling the man's wrist but Merlin can see Arthur's knuckles whiten as he squeezes with all his strength and the knight whimpers just a little.

He doesn't know what Arthur told the knight - he whispered it into the man's ear and so quietly that all Merlin could hear was the faintest murmur. It had an impact, though - the man had nodded his head at Merlin when Arthur had let him go, and he had scooped up the basket and presented it to Merlin with an actual spoken apology before bowing to the prince and walking away. Arthur had stayed in front of Merlin until the man had rounded the corner, shoulders squared and jaw tense, and Merlin had sagged slightly with relief, caught between the wall and Arthur.

Cont. below. Stupid character limit! >_

[gaffsie.livejournal.com]

SGA, John/Ronon, rope

Ties that bind, hard R

[guiltyreasons.livejournal.com]

Ronon was suppose to be giving him a knot tying lesson. It had started out innocent enough. Both of them with lengths of rope making silly designs in them that seemed way to complicated.

Than Ronon had suggested that John tie him up and see if his knots were strong enough. John did a hell of a job tying him up and the moment he saw Ronon bound with his arms behind his back and his legs tied so he was forced to sit on his knees while his feet were connected to his hands, damn. He hadn't been able to help himself.

"What are you doing? We're suppose to be learning to tie ropes not," Ronon said, but it ended in a groan as John undid the front of his pants and pulled out the erection he'd been working on for five minutes now.

"Complain all you like, but I know you want it," John teased going down and gently licking the very tip. Ronon groaned and arched forward, but John won't give him more.

He ran his hands up his chest, pulling his shirt with him. He exposed those two lovely nipples and ran his fingers over them. Using both thumbs he teased them into arousal and listened approvingly as Ronon moaned for him.

Suddenly to big hands were on his shoulders and he was being pushed down to the floor.

"Bad knots. Told you not to let the lope be that loose. Now, you're going to have to pay for that," he said putting his knee into John's back and using the ropes that had been around his wrists to tie John up. Only he knew there was no way John was getting out of one of his traps.

[galor5.livejournal.com]

RPS, Orlando/Karl, hanging out

for xchasingtailsx

[slashfairy.livejournal.com]

One of the best things is, Karl likes to do stuff, too.

He won't bungee jump. But he's parachuted. He loves to surf, and he's good. And motorcycles? Oh, man, he LOVES that red Ducati, and he'll race Orlando anywhere.

Afterwards, he always has beer, and wine, and tea, and condoms, and after they fuck Karl cooks him pasta and sauce and they sit on the deck and watch the surf roll in, and let the dogs lick the plates, and do nothing at all, together.

[galor5.livejournal.com]

Lotrips, Orlando/Sean B, teach me something new

[lorilann.livejournal.com]

RPF, Eliza Dushku/James Franco, cold nights

[galor5.livejournal.com]

RPS, Orlando/Karl/Harry, Time in a bottle

[galor5.livejournal.com]

TW, Jack/Ianto, No AC

Nothing more and nothing less

[guiltyreasons.livejournal.com]

It was hot out, especially for Cardiff. It was like the earth was trying to melt and sadly it had nothing to do with aliens. If it had to do with aliens they could have tried to stop it or something, but instead they were all suffering.

Ianto, who normally looked amazingly tidy had his jacket off, his tie undone and two buttons at the top of his shirt undone. He'd been getting looks from Jack all day, but he was ignoring him.

The other man was completely insane though. Jack not only was fully dressed but he had his coat completely buttoned up.

Jack came down from the backroom and groaned.

"Any chance we can get some A/C going?" Jack asked standing right behind Tosh.

"Nope, systems completely out. It hasn't been turned on for years and when I tried, bam," she said making a explosion gesture with her hands.

"This is killing me. Can I go home?" Owen begged.

"No," Jack snapped.

"God I'm going to bloody boil down here," Gwen said as she came in holding a folder and wearing nothing but a bra in a pair of shorts. Everyone stared at her. "What? Nothing less than you'd see on a beach. Calm down, it's too bloody hot for shirts."

Speaking of which, Ianto thought walking over to Jack.

"Shall I take your coat?" he asked holding out an arm to take it.

"I really didn't want to do this but.." Jack went to unbuttoning his coat and flung it open. Jack was completely naked under the greatcoat and handed it to Ianto without a hint of bashfulness. Ianto put his face in his hands.

"jack!" Gwen shrieked.

"Nothing more than you'd see on a nude beach," he said than marched himself upstairs.

[honeyjojames.livejournal.com]

RPS, Winged!Chris/Steve, everything you ever wanted

[badfalcon.livejournal.com]

"There must be something," Steve insisted, lifting his head to meet Christian's eyes. He quirked an eyebrow when Christian shook his head, insisting there wasn't.

"I got everything I need right here," Christian said simply. He rolled onto his stomach and lifted a cigarette to his lips, lighting it. Arching his back and stretching his wings, he smiled at Steve. "I got wide open space, summer sun and someone I can be me around. I got you." He leaned over and kissed Steve. "Everything I ever wanted."

[honeyjojames.livejournal.com]

RPS, Vampire!Steve/Chris, lonely before I met you

RPS, Vampire!Steve/Chris, lonely before I met you

[yanzadracan.livejournal.com]

The lone figure sat at the end of the bar observing the Saturday night crowd. The Christian Kane Band was garnering a reputation as a premier bar band in the city, and the number of people seemed to support that claim.

This should have made the man at the bar happy. This was what he’d been working toward. His manager had said several record companies were putting out feelers towards them.

Chris was never one for living inside his own head, but lately he’d been dissatisfied and restless. He smiled grimly into his glass, wondering if he was having his midlife crisis 15 years early or if he just needed to get laid.

He ran a jaded glance over the crowd. The faces and the bodies were all groomed and coifed like they were going for ‘Best of Show’, but none stirred the fire in his belly that urged him to go on the prowl.

He checked the time, shook off his strange mood and headed back to the stage for the next set. By the end of the night he’d let himself sink into the music and let it carry away his loneliness.

When he rolled out the bed of the blonde beauty he’d picked up after the last set, all he wanted was a shower and his own bed. He was gettin’ too old for this one night stand shit.

The band was booked all week. By Saturday, Chris was ready to punch somebody. Knowing the signs of the infamous Kane temper, the band kept their heads down to wait out the storm. At the end of the second set, Chris stalked to ‘his’ corner of the bar only to find some blonde dude on ‘his’ bar stool. He ordered a shot of JD and a beer.

“Tough day?” Questioned the man sitting on ‘his’ stool.

While still savoring the burn of Black Jack, he turned to the blonde, a snide remark ready on his lips. As he looked into clear blue eyes, the words died as a feeling of calm seemed to roll over his body. Rubbing a hand over his face, he took a sip of beer to buy himself time to get a grip.

“Tough week.” He growled, still off balance.

Suddenly he’s startled out of his thoughts by a familiar voice behind him.

“Christian?” His blonde lover grew concerned over the confusion he saw in the blue/grey eyes.

“I’m fine Steven.” He took a pull of his beer. “Remember when we met?”

“Yes. I believe it was in this very establishment.” The vampire chuckled warmly. “You were looking for a battle in which to engage.”

“But I found you instead.” His thoughts started to turn inward again.

“What troubles you, love?” He reached for Chris’ arm to ground him the present. His emotions were in such turmoil it was hard to read the mortal.

“I was remembering…I was…” Chris waves his hand with his frustration and disordered thoughts. “I was always searching for something—someone I could never find. That night I…” He dropped his head letting his hair shield his expression.

Steven was beginning to feel alarmed. Christian didn’t often express himself verbally, but when he did he was usually quite articulate.

Chris tried another track. “The aloneness. How do you deal? I felt so hollow that night, and I didn’t know what to do or how to fill the hole. Sex wasn’t gettin’ it—bein’ around people made it worse. I was so alone when I met you. How do I deal with that again when you leave?”

“If you feel like this than I have not expressing myself very clearly.” Steven’s voice was low, hypnotic.

Chris shivered as he felt fangs break the surface of his skin just enough for the tiniest sip.

“There is no leaving. You are mine Christian Kane. There will be no need to worry about dealing with loneliness.” Steve growls in his ear.

Chris let his weight fall into the cool comfort of his vampire.

To Serve - FRM (angst) - SPOILERS for last night's ep

[hawk-dancing.livejournal.com]

No porn, just angst, sorry. :( But if you have seen the ep, you know why...SPOILERS!!!!!!
--

To Serve
--


“I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean. I serve Heaven,” Castiel told him coldly. “I don’t serve Man. And I certainly don’t serve *you*.”

--

One last look and the angel turned to leave. Leave Dean behind. Again.

Sam was…messed up. Addicted. Hurting. But he could fix him…later. Right now, Cas needed him.

They had hurt him. Bad. Real bad. Dean could *feel* his pain; see it, hear it screaming out of blue eyes that no longer held the purely human joy of a bad hamburger or seeing his family again. It *burned*, flicking between them, rolling over him like a bucket of ice water…Heaven’s displeasure…

Too painful to balance between two Masters. Dean had no doubt They had shown Castiel just why it would be a Bad Idea to continue to buck the system.

Because the angels - *his* family, Cas’ family - they had hurt him, and with every step Jimmy took away from Dean, Castiel was losing a piece of himself, leaving it behind because he no longer had the strength to hold himself together.

Because he no longer had the courage. Dean could relate, all too well.

Dean could *feel* it. It had been in his eyes before Cas had turned away - that same look that stared out at him in green from the mirror every morning. He didn’t know what it felt like to have your soul ripped up to Heaven but he did know what it felt like to have it ripped apart in Hell…the cynic in him figured it couldn’t be much different. *They* certainly weren’t.

Angels. Demons. As long as they got their way…

So with only a brief look at Sam Dean stepped in Castiel’s way - waited until the angel looked up - saw the anger and frustration, the desperation and pain warring in his eyes…

…and dropped to his knees on the hard concrete floor, offering himself to the angel instead. “Then tell me what you need me to do to serve you.”


End

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

HIMYM, Barney/Robin, cruel

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

It's fast and violent and desperate, and he knows this isn't about him at all. She's tied him to her bed, not caring if the scarves she's used are too tight, not caring if she hurts him as she takes the lead at a frantic pace.

Simon's been back in town, and Robin once again fell for his lines, allowed him to treat her like that girl she tries so hard not to be anymore.

And Barney's reaping the benefits -- or consequences.

At the moment he's not quite sure which it is.

At the moment of his climax, he breathes out words he's been concealing for so long, but can't quite hide in the midst of the powerful sensations that consume him.

"Robin... God... I love you..."

She freezes over him -- and his heart stops for a moment. He finally dares to open his eyes, looking up at her. There's something cold and dark in her eyes as she stares down at him in clear disbelief.

"What did you say?" she whispers.

"Nothing," he replied. "I didn't... I mean... it was nothing..." He shakes his head.

She studies his face for a moment -- and then a cold, bitter smile spreads across her lips. Her voice is soft and dangerous as she leans down over him again, her face inches from his.

"No, Barney. Go ahead. Say it again."

He hesitates, uncertain what's happening here.

"Go ahead," she urges him softly. "I want to hear you say it."

"I... I love you, Robin," he whispers at last, every ounce of his sincerity in his trembling voice. "I really do."

She nods slowly, as if confirming to herself that that's really what he said. Her smile slowly widens into something nasty and vicious, as she runs a sharp nail slowly down the side of his cheek. He turns into her touch with a soft gasp, hungering for closeness with her -- sensing the opportunity for it slipping away.

"You know why that's funny, Barney?" she whispers. "You know why that just makes me want to laugh? Because it's pointless. Pointless and pathetic. Because no one could love a pathetic... stupid... easy little slut like you!"

He flinches, stunned by the cruel words. A part of his mind is able to realize that the words are meant more for herself than for him -- but they still hurt.

He closes his eyes against her cold, piercing stare, waits as she unties him, waits until he hears her get up and walk away, laughing harshly under her breath. He stays there for a long time, listening until he hears his front door close behind her.

Only then does he allow his secret, despairing tears to fall.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

HIMYM, Barney/Lily/Marshall, misplaced trust

[lilithisbitter.livejournal.com]

Lily was spooning him ice cream past a throat that feels like he's gargled a sink full of glass. Somehow getting his back wrenched, his knee busted, his ear infected on top of everything else that happened to him is made better by a little TLC... though not the music group... but that would be sweet... he missed L Eye so much.

Marshall was on the phone screaming at Ted. "Really, Mosby? You let him see your damned list?! Did you realize he would want to do every item on it, trusting you had some sense of safety."

"Muratlph," Barney tried to whisper out around his sore throat. Lily just sighed and ruffled his hair.

"Ssssh, sssh," she said and he could get used to it. The sex with Marshall and Lily was always nice... sometimes S&M, sometimes not, they were so so creative and it blew his hedonistic mind, but if this was what was like to really have a mother take care of you instead of having to survive on fluffernutter sandwiches because you were too little to use the stove, he could love this. "Don't worry. We'll take care of you."

Marshall was still yelling. "His hair was pink! Pink! Do you know how long it took us to wash it out." A pause. "I don't care if you thought it was funny. His hair is pretty. You don't mess with pretty, Mosby, you douche. It's number one on the list of pretty things. The next is Lily's smile. And that self-pierced ear gave him strep throat. No, we're not letting Robin taking care of him... she has no bedside manner whatsoever."

"It's time for your medicine, Barn-barn," Lily said and awesome Barney would have complained, but sick as a dog Barney had his bubblegum flavored antibiotic and popped his mouth open so Lily could squirt the liquid in. "There you go."

"Mmmm..." Barney nuzzled against her as she straightened his night shirt and tucked Feely the Share Bear against him. Lily, Marshall... maybe they would have pity sick sex with him... he nosed her behind the ear, hoping she would get the hint.

"No, no..." she said, "We'll wait until you get better. Okay?"

Barney made a half frustrated whine as Marshall hung up the phone. "How's he doing?" Marshall asked, sitting right by him on the couch.

"Still feverish."

Oh, maybe Marshall would be up for some fun... pity the sick man. Oh... oh... damnit... Barnacle Jr. didn't want to play. "Hey, Tiny," Marshall said and ruffled the curls he had tried so hard to try with careful application of hair gel.

"Mmmrph," Barney mumbled his discontent.

"I think he wants to be punished," Lily said.

Now she gets it. Punish the Barney... punish him long and hard. Barney could feel a smile rising to his face. "Oh, I see," Marshall said, "He wants his Doms to chain him and spank him."

Barney started nodding in excitement. "I think..." Lily began. "No. Marshall has a worse punishment in store. Tell him, Marshmallow."

"Well... when you get better, you are going to wear normal clothes.... for a month. See... that's what you get for placing your trust in a douche like a Ted. Trust us."

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

HIMYM, Barney/anyone, repressed memory

What Barney Really Does For a Living (Darkfic)

[lilithisbitter.livejournal.com]

The president of GNB meets Greg's eyes with a steady gaze. He didn't expect that the president of AltruCell would be such a man of hedonistic tastes. The centerpiece is such an example, being slender and toned, six foot one, blond and blue eyed with chiseled features with an air of delicateness beneath them. He is also very nude, covered in edible treats from head to toe, a blend of east and west, of sushi, fruit, and truffles. "He's been trained not to move for hours at a time," Greg says, running his hand along the centerpiece's flacid member, impressive in its size, long and thick, lily white compared to the rest of his tan skin, "And he's been waxed for this task. Haven't you, Barnaby?"

"Barnaby" closes his eyes and nods, even that a graceful act. "And he agrees to this?" GNB's president asks. "Who is this?"

Greg laughs harshly. "This is Barney Stinson, AltruCell's finest experiment in brainwashing." He runs his hand through Barney's short blond hair. "When I found him nearly a decade ago, he was such a waste of perfectly good man. He wanted to make something of himself. Little blond hippie with a ponytail and a sad wisp of a goatee. Change... As if that's even possible."

"Hardly," the words tumble out of Barney's mouth and sound both cruel and robotic.

"So what did you do?" The GNB president asks, helping himself to a piece of orange off of Barney's hip. It seems like a waste of otherwise and there is something empowering about using someone to be your plate.

"I rescued him of course," Greg says, looking at Barney as if daring him to say anything different. "Didn't I? Tell him..."

Barney's eyelashes flutter for several minutes and his lips part, slowly. "I was saving myself for a girl," He says with an odd monotone to his voice, "You stole her from me. You made me realize that I couldn't be a hippie anymore. You saved me from being a loser."

Greg pats Barney's thigh. "Good boy. It's more complicated. I saw him after I saw her... she was pretty, but he was magnificent. I realized when he reached maturity, he would be a God. You have to invest in something like that... so I repressed his memories. It's easy enough to do. Not to mention his sweet little body is laced with nanities... they've stopped his aging, multipled his healing ten-fold. Otherwise, you'd be crippled when that bus hit you... wouldn't you..."

"I would... thank you, my Master," Barney says and closes his eyes in what looks like rapture.

"He can thank everything he is to me... I taught him to be desirable... I even altered his body chemistry so he smells good, tastes good... voice lessons to give him the proper pitch and pick up lines... acting lessons, a porn library, yoga to make him flexible... if you ask... he will suck his own cock for you... his tastes in everything from suits, cigars, and booze to all of that Red Bull he loves so dearly. He loves everything you demand of him... even S&M, because it makes you happy..."

"I see," says the president, his mouth very dry, "And he's mine if I go through the merger."

Barney closes his eyes and opens them, looking at Greg as if pleading. "No," Greg says, "He's my project. Consider him on loan with his office."

"Does he remember these sessions?"

"No... once I use my command word, he'll take a shower, get dressed, and think he spent the day in a board meeting."

"I see."

The rest of the GNB and AltruCell board members march in and the merger goes as planned. And Barney Stinson lies in the middle of it, doll still, perfect and perfectly broken.

[csichick-2.livejournal.com]

Supernatural/Dark Angel, Sam/Dean and Alec/Logan, "Dude, it's you. But like twenty years ago you."

Can You Blame Them?, Supernatural/Dark Angel, Sam/Dean and Alec/Logan, "Dude, it's you. But like twe

[hunters-retreat.livejournal.com]

His eyes opened wide as he looked at the man before him, looked and looked because unlike Ben and the others, this one as older than him. He didn’t know what to think of that, what to say.

He could feel Logan behind him just as stuck for words and the snarky part of his brain wanted to make some comment to Logan about being speechless before his beauty only it wasn’t his, it was something different. Same face but with more power to it, more strength.

Alec knew he was beautiful and he knew it. He was trained to work it, trained to know when to smile his innocent smile and when to use his mischievous one. He was never supposed to look dangerous but the man before him was exactly that. Alec was the bad boy that came from money and wanted rebellion. This other guy was the bad boy that took you home and left that night never to be seen in that town ever again.

"Dude, it's you. But like twenty years ago you." The guy behind him said and damn he was a tall drink of water also.

His words seemed to break the spell though and then introductions were made. Dean. Sam. Alec. Logan. Dean had a possessive hold on Sam’s elbow and Alec pressed himself back further against Logan. Just to make sure he was still there. Not that he didn’t trust Logan. When Sam suggested they go somewhere private to talk, they went and none of them seemed too comfortable with this, except maybe Sam.


Sam explained it all, about the genetics and how they had found out about Manticore and the transgenics and the series made to look like Dean. After that though he’d been quiet, letting Logan and Dean talk about the world and what was safe. When Alec trailed into the kitchen to get a beer Sam followed.

He pulled four bottles out of the fridge and set them on the counter, trying to decide if he needed anything else. When he decided against it and turned around, Sam was there, in his space and pressing him slightly back into the refrigerator door. His fingers trailed lightly over Alec’s face and he could see the way Sam was cataloguing the differences. He’s watched Logan doing something similar.

“Sam?” It wasn’t his voice, but it was. Sam shivered at it as he pressed his cheek against Alec’s. He closed his eyes, trying to calm his beating heart. Trying to decide if Dean would try to kick his ass for knocking Sam away and trying to decide if he should. He had Logan and he wasn’t looking to trade off here or anything but there was something in Sam’s touch, in the devotion that he gave, that made him feel like Sam needed that.

“Sam!”

“Yeah Dean?”

“Sammy. Back away from the other me before this one starts to take any more offense.”

When Sam backed away there was a small smile on his lips and Alec knew that whatever he’d needed in that moment he had. “Sure thing Dean.”


Logan came up and brought his hand to Alec’s face, his eyes searching. “You alright?”

Alec nodded. “He’s a little… intense. It’s fine.”

Logan, now past the point of worry was steadily moving to possessive and before he could try to turn that on the other two, Alec pulled him in for a hard kiss. Logan was tense but started to relax under his hands as his lips parted and he let Alec in.

When they finally came up for air, Dean was watching with a faint smirk and Sam was in the other room. Logan went to find him and they could hear them chattering away about whatever bit of research had peeked their interest.

“Thought it was going to be a problem there for a minute.” Dean said.

Alec shrugged. “Can you blame them? I mean, look at us.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, we are pretty awesome.”

[csichick-2.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Eliot/author's choice, bad day

Leverage, Eliot/AC - Simon Templar, The Saint (Ian Ogilvy carnation), Bad day

[yanzadracan.livejournal.com]

Eliot Spencer moved as quietly as he could, using the deeper shadows to hide his erratic progress. He hoped he wasn’t leaving a blood trail, but at the moment he really didn’t give a rat’s ass.

What had started as a simple job to retrieve a rare postage stamp had become the job from hell. A taser burn on his arm, a dog bite on the cheek of his ass and bruised ribs from a fall down a hill into a stream was its own testament to his bad day.

He’d just secured the stamp and was ready to slip out the French doors when a man slipped in the study door. 50ish, handsome, clothes custom tailored, Eliot had heard stories of a master thief who would do absolutely anything to get what he wanted, and was richer than Croesus. He suspected the man opening the safe was none other than The Saint, Simon Templar. Shame they couldn’t have met in different circumstances.

Curses from the poor side of London erupted from the man when he discovered the safe was empty. He started scanning the room, discovering Eliot by the French doors.

“I suppose you’re the reason the safe is empty?” The snotty English accent was back.

A shrug was the only indication Eliot gave he heard the question.

“Don’t suppose you’d consider handing it over?” Eliot rolled his eyes as small derringer appeared in the older man’s hand.

“Kinda cliché, ain’t it?” A nod indicated the gun.

“The old ways are still the best.” The older man lectured as he moved closer to Eliot in anticipation of being handed the stamp.

Quick as a mongoose on a cobra, a right hand grabbed the gun hand and pulled as a left elbow met a square jaw. The older thief ended up on the floor nursing his jaw as Eliot unloaded the derringer and pitched it across the room.

“I don’t like guns.” The retrieval specialist growled as he back toward the doors.

“Nicely played.” The older thief picked himself off the floor and straightened his clothes. “Simon Templar.”

“I know.” Was all Eliot offered.

A woman’s screams filled the big house.

Both men looked toward the sound.

“What’d else ya take?” A dark eyebrow arched at Templar.

“There might have been a very nice diamond necklace the lady was wearing when she retired.” Simon’s grin was unrepentant.

“Time to go?” Eliot went for the door.

“Believe you’re right.”

The men split up as they crossed the lawn, making it harder for security.

With a groan of relief he finally made it back to his hotel. A hot shower took care of a lot of his aches and pains. He’d be sitting carefully for a day or two, but luckily the dog’s teeth had only bruised his ass. He left the bathroom and there sitting on the bed holding another gun was Simon Templar.

Eliot crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. Templar looked confused at the younger man’s nonchalance when facing a man with a gun while only wearing sweat pants.

“Ain’t got it.” Eliot said simply.

“Oh?” Templar stood up.

“Stopped by on the way here.”

“Smart.” He moved toward the younger man tucking the gun in his jacket pocket.

Eliot straightened away from the wall.

Manicured hands ghosted over his chiseled chest.

“Maybe you’d like to help alleviate my disappointment.” Templar breathed in Eliot’s ear.

Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad day after all.

[csichick-2.livejournal.com]

AtS, Angel/Lindsey, why won't that bitch leave us alone

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Angel held Lindsey up off the ground, his hand pressing Lindey's jaw upward, his body pressed against the cold stone wall.

"I'm going to make you pay for everything you've ever done, Lindsey."
Lindsey responded by smiling through the pain and the blood. "I always knew you'd be the one to do it, Angel."

"How do you want it Lindsey? Fast and brutal or slow and terrifying?" Angel leaned in close to Lindsey's face, and continued, "I vote for slow and terrifying myself. I'd like to draw your portrait, Lindsey. I'd like to sit down and relax and draw a nice, leisurely picture of you at every stage of your destruction. First, broken skin, from the whip. Then maybe broken bones. Then the broken spirit. That's my favorite part. To see how you look when you're begging on the floor, naked and trembling, wondering where that idiotic boldness went, wondering if I'll be gentler if you call me master. No wait, that's my second favorite part. My faves is when I break you in the way that I save for only the prettiest girls and boys, when you're throbbing and screaming and you want so badly for me to stop. What do you think of that, Lindsey? Sound like what you deserve?"

Just then Spike walked in, turned the TV to a re-run of The O.C., and started munching on Funions as he dipped them in sheep's blood.

"Spike!" Angel yelled.

"Hey, Angel. How's it going Lindsey?"

"That's it, I'm out of here," Lindsey huffed.

"Dammit, Lindsey, we'll just ask Spike to leave, okay?"

"Forget it. Why won't that bitch leave us alone? And who has a roommate at your age anyway?!" Lindsey slammed the door on the way out.

"Thanks a lot, Spike," Angel grumbled as he took the red Funion he was offered and reluctantly settled in for a hopelessly tame evening, adding, "You know, Julie's the only good character on this dumb show."