[personal profile] hopelessfangirl
a;sdksa;ldf I had to join in on this.


Fave Acts Meme
hosted by [livejournal.com profile] toestastegood


- Post a list of your five favorite acts/kinks to read about. Check out this list if you need some inspiration. At the bottom, add what fandoms/pairings you're interested in.
- Read other people's lists.
- Post comment-fic based off of other people's lists.

My List:
I had to copy/pasta some from that list cause I was drawing a blank. OH GOD, GUYS, SOME OF THESE ARE ACTUAL KINKS, I'M BLUSHING.
  1. Absence makes the heart grow fonder
  2. AUs (alternate characterizations and situations; sex between alternates of one character or between different characters; role reversal)
  3. Domesticity (moving in together; nesting; shopping; watching movies; building a family or meeting the family; kidfic)
  4. Dominance and submission (one is the agressor and it turns the other one on, etc.)
  5. Voyeurism and vision themes (character A secretly watches B and C have sex; character A watches character B perform/masturbate; eye contact, especially as flirting; closing eyes as a trust gesture; character A feeling that character B truly sees him, when no one else does; the quality of light, e.g., characters lit by moonlight or candlelight, or gilded by the setting sun; being in the dark; gazes as objectification)


Ships List:

Angel: Fred/Wesley
Buffy: Buffy/Angel, Willow/Oz
Firefly: Mal/Inara, Simon/Kaylee, River/Jayne
Friday Night Lights: Eric/Tami, Matt/Julie, Tyra/Landry, Tim/Lyla
Glee: Finn/Kurt, Will/Emma, Artie/Tina
Harry Potter: Harry/Hermione
House: House/Wilson
Leverage: Parker/Hardison
LOST: Jack/Sawyer, Charlie/Claire, Sawyer/Juliet, Jack/Juliet, Boone/Shannon
Mad Men: Pete/Peggy, Don/Joan
The Office (US): Michael/Holly, Michael/Pam, Jim/Pam
Pirates of the Caribbean: Jack/Elizabeth (or more affectionately, Sparrow/Swann)
Six Feet Under: David/Keith
Supernatural: Sam/Jess, John/Mary, Castiel/Anna, Sam/Castiel, Sam/Jo
(GUYS, WHY DON'T I SHIP MY DEAN WITH ANYONE, REALLY... AND SAM WITH EVERYONE??? D=) Oh, fuck it, I'll put Dean/Jo on the list too.


Fills:
  • Six Feet Under: David/Keith - music (with a hint of d/s) (R/NC-17) - for [livejournal.com profile] janie_tangerine

  • Moulin Rouge/Titanic: Christian/Rose - h/c + domesticity + schmoop (PG) - for [livejournal.com profile] invisiblelove

  • Chuck: Ellie/Awesome - Cuddling, with a bit of size!kink (G) - for [livejournal.com profile] wandersfound
  • Tags:

    Date: 2010-04-19 05:16 pm (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] inthekeyofd.livejournal.com
    Jack/Sawyer, it may be time to whip out that detective James fic. :)

    Date: 2010-04-19 09:24 pm (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] hopelessfangirl.livejournal.com
    YESSS!!! DO IT

    Date: 2010-04-19 05:42 pm (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] invisiblelove.livejournal.com
    OMG I REALLY WANNA DO THIS WHY DO I HAVE SCHOOL D: I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY I CAN'T JUST SIT AROUND AND WRITE FANDOM PORN ALL DAY. I REALLY DON'T.

    OH GOD, GUYS, SOME OF THESE ARE ACTUAL KINKS, I'M BLUSHING.
    GAAAAAAAASP. YOU SEX FIEND, YOU!!! ;)

    GUYS, WHY DON'T I SHIP MY DEAN WITH ANYONE
    I'm just saying, the Dean/Cas Express is an excellent place to be. You could take Lauren's approach and just ship all incarnations of Dean/Cas/Sam ;)

    YAAAAY PORN.

    Date: 2010-04-19 06:41 pm (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] invisiblelove.livejournal.com
    OMG I JUST REMEMBERED ABOUT CUSTOM FRIENDS LISTS. I THINK THERE STILL MAY BE SOME LINGERING PEOPLE ON MY FLIST FROM HIGH SCHOOL. BUT I JUST MADE A FANDOM LIST FOR PORN AND OTHER MISC EXCELLENCE. AWESOME. I DON'T KNOW WHY I'M USING CAPS.

    ...I'M PRETTY SURE I'M GONNA DO THIS NOW.

    ALSO, DEAN IS HARD TO SHIP WITH. I ONLY LIKE HIM WITH CAS. OH AND LAYLA.

    CAAAAAAAAAAPS.

    (no subject)

    From: [identity profile] hopelessfangirl.livejournal.com - Date: 2010-04-19 09:30 pm (UTC) - Expand

    Date: 2010-04-19 06:03 pm (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] wandersfound.livejournal.com
    Hahaha, I think you're the only person I know for whom Dean isn't the oblig fandom bicycle. Hm, now I have to figure out what I'm going to write you...

    Also I agree with MC, if you're looking for someone to ship Dean with... that little nerdy dude with wings isn't a bad option.

    Date: 2010-04-19 09:50 pm (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] hopelessfangirl.livejournal.com
    I know, it's the weirdest thing. It's not even like I'm one of those strictly-Sam girls who doesn't care for Dean and thus doesn't care to ship him... I'm a Dean girl for God's sakes! Like I was saying to MC above, perhaps one day I'll find a Dean ship I love instead of just 'like.'

    I'm off to brainstorm for yours now. So far I only have an idea for [livejournal.com profile] janie_tangerine...

    Jack/Sawyer, D/s, R - HATCH FIC

    Date: 2010-04-20 05:12 am (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] invisiblelove.livejournal.com
    OMG I JUST WROTE SPONTANEOUS PORN. I FEEL SO LIBERATED. I HOPE THIS IS SOMEWHAT HOT AND NOT JUST AWKWARD OMG......



    He had wanted to get Jack worked up. He was a con man. He knew it would be easy. He just didn’t realize it would be this easy.

    Or this awesome.

    Sawyer had been running his mouth off about something or another, watching as the good doctor slowly revved himself up into a frenzy of frustration. He had expected him to lose his temper, maybe even take a swing.

    What he hadn’t expected was for Jack to fix him with a heated stare for a good fifteen seconds before practically lunging at him, pinning him against a wall of the hatch, both of his wrists clasped above his head in one of Jack’s hands.

    “Dammit, will you ever shut up? Your goddamn mouth. Shut up. Shut up! Fuck!” Jack attacked his mouth, pressing his own against Sawyer’s and thrusting his tongue inside.

    Sawyer realized he may not have given Jack enough credit. He was using his bulk to keep Sawyer pinned to the wall, and a delicious thrill crept up Sawyer’s chest when Jack fisted the material of his shirt in his free hand, unsure of whether he was about to get punched or fucked.

    Jack apparently made up his mind and reached for the button of Sawyer’s loose jeans, using his deft surgeon’s fingers to get them open one handed and letting out a little grunt of appreciation when he realized Sawyer wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

    Jack thrust his hand into the V made by the open zipper and found Sawyer already half hard, which only fueled Jack’s frustration. He fisted his hand around Sawyer and pumped, angling his own hips and rutting against Sawyer as he worked him off.

    Sawyer could feel perspiration beading up on his temples. He tried to keep his hips from hitching up into Jack’s fist, but he was quickly realizing that maybe he had given up the control of this situation. And maybe he didn’t care.

    “Make you shut up,” Jack muttered, giving a few more pumps of his cock before reaching down further and dragging his index and middle fingers across his balls.

    Sawyer shuddered and came over Jack’s hand, his hips stuttering as he rode out his orgasm. Panting, he took a moment to clear the ringing in his ears before realizing that Jack had let go of his arms and now stood staring at him, unsure of what he has just done.

    With a slow smile spreading across his face, Sawyer gave a languorous stretch of his pleasantly sore arms before pulling his jeans back over his hips. Fixing Jack with a stare of his own, he quickly flipped their positions, pressing him up against the wall.

    Pausing a moment, loving to watch the wheels click in that infuriating, irresistible, self-righteous bastard’s brain, Sawyer left Jack in suspense for a moment before gracefully sinking to his knees.

    Smirking at Jack’s shocked expression, Sawyer looked up as he went to work on his belt. “Well shit, Doc. Seems like we’ve wasted a whole lot of fuckin’ time dancin’ around each other, huh?”

    Re: Jack/Sawyer, D/s, R - HATCH FIC

    Date: 2010-04-20 05:19 am (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] hopelessfangirl.livejournal.com
    AS;F'SDKDL;GKFSDL;GFDK;GLDFKG;LDFGK;DFL

    MY BRAIN.

    IT HAS EXPLODED.

    OMG THIS IS PERFECT. I HAVE NO WORDS. D/S, S1-S2 SEXUAL TENSION, SAWYER'S JEANS, JACK SWEARING, OMG. I LOVE YOU SO FREAKING MUCH.
    ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

    Re: Jack/Sawyer, D/s, R - HATCH FIC

    Date: 2010-04-21 08:09 pm (UTC)
    siluria: (Lost_J/S Dibs)
    From: [personal profile] siluria
    Oooooooooooooh - gorgeous!!! It includes two of my very favourite things... oh, and wall!sex and argument -induced-sex... and that last line! *loves*

    Re: Jack/Sawyer, D/s, R - HATCH FIC

    Date: 2010-07-06 09:48 am (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] haldoor.livejournal.com
    FUCK ME. (Ooops, sorry, I think I just spoiled your LJ, hopelessfangirl!). Anyway, that was hot. Seriously hot. Thankyou.

    Supernatural, Sam/Castiel, Voyeurism, R

    Date: 2010-04-20 09:15 am (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] entangled-now.livejournal.com
    It starts with two words.

    "Show me."

    It's how Sam ends up pressed back against the headboard of his bed in his motel room, t-shirt stripped off, jeans thrown on the floor, boxer shorts pushed all the way down his thighs.

    He'd thought it would take him a while, that he'd have to work to get himself hard. But he was halfway there before his boxer shorts made it over his hips. Castiel sat almost primly at the end of the bed, watching everything.

    Sam's holding himself just a little too tight, hand not as easy, not as relaxed. He tells himself it's because of how awkward this is. Because it's clinical and slightly unreal.

    But - God - that's a lie. Castiel's expression is bright and intent, like he's seeing everything, absolutely everything. The tense and relax of Sam's thighs, the twitch of his stomach muscles. The way the head of his cock slips out and in between his curled fingers. His other hand, tucked down under, to tug and roll the weight of his balls every time the ache in his belly stabs deep.

    It's messed up and he should stop, but he can't. Because there's nothing clinical in Castiel's look.

    Nothing at all.

    Castiel's hands are loose on his thighs. But his mouth is ever so slightly open, the relaxed line of it soft and full and human. It makes Sam push up, just a little, the hard line of him leaving the curl of his thumb wet where it slips across the head, over and over on every slide. Quick and indulgent and Castiel watches that too, fascinated.

    He knows that Castiel is going to watch him come. That's the whole purpose of this. This is why he's here, why Sam agreed to do this. Why Castiel's here watching him, watching the slide of his hand and the breathless, stunned rasp of every breath.

    "Cas." It falls out without meaning to, and Castiel lifts his eyes to look at him. Bright and fierce and hungry. God - Sam's hand drops and squeezes, stops the low thump of pressure. Feels every inch as naked as he is, too far into arousal to care about the slice of shame. That edge of rough guilt, because he thinks this is something it isn't supposed to be. Wasn't supposed to be.

    He watches the angels fingers curl, drawing his hands into fists. A barely-there reaction that has Sam spreading his thighs wider, shuddering out a breath and turning every slow put into a long, hard slide.

    He wonders if Castiel would come closer if he asked. If he'd let Sam slide his thumb into his mouth and drag it open, let him push inside, fingers, tongue, the heavy, solid weight of his cock.

    Fuck.

    Castiel's eyes sharpen, then fall, watch his hand again. Sam groans sharply, fist working quick and greedy. A rough, too-dry pull that he meets with his hips. It's ragged and messy and close. So close.

    "Cas." He comes on the bed and across his own fingers, the warm, messy slide of it leaving him shaking and loose.

    Castiel watches Sam work himself through it, slow, steady, every rough breath is guilty and ends on a helpless noise of pleasure.

    Sam closes his eyes and tips his head back, rests it against the wall and waits. He expects Castiel to disappear, to vanish off to wherever he goes when he's not here. Now he'd gotten what he came for.

    He starts in surprise when fingers glides across his throat, catch his jaw and tilt it down.

    Castiel's mouth is soft and wet, and open.

    Re: Supernatural, Sam/Castiel, Voyeurism, R

    Date: 2010-04-20 02:03 pm (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] invisiblelove.livejournal.com
    O_O ummmmmmmm that was super hot. I think I just cheated on Dean/Cas a little bit.

    Re: Supernatural, Sam/Castiel, Voyeurism, R

    Date: 2010-04-20 04:52 pm (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] hopelessfangirl.livejournal.com
    GUHHHHH. This entire scenario and the way you wrote it is perfect. I love how it begins with Sam thinking it's awkward and clinical and ends up completely not that way. This is AMAZING, thank you so much!

    Re: Supernatural, Sam/Castiel, Voyeurism, R

    Date: 2010-04-20 06:37 pm (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] wandersfound.livejournal.com
    This is hot and awesome. I love Sam contemplating how far Cas would let him go and what he'd let him do.

    Re: Supernatural, Sam/Castiel, Voyeurism, R

    Date: 2010-04-21 09:47 pm (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] mulder200.livejournal.com
    Wow! Even though my heart belongs to Dean/Cas, I find this ridiculously hot!

    Re: Supernatural, Sam/Castiel, Voyeurism, R

    Date: 2010-04-23 07:58 pm (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] miya-morana.livejournal.com
    Yup, shower. Definitely. Though I think I'll read all your porny ficlets first.

    So delicious and hot and oh my, I love you.

    Sam/Castiel; Voyeurism; R/NC-17

    Date: 2010-04-20 05:21 pm (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] wandersfound.livejournal.com
    Unclean. Castiel turns the word over and over in his mind. That's what it is, what he's doing. Dirty and wrong and the best thing to do is to just leave, leave right now and go find Dean who is out getting dinner or go begin researching in the books Bobby has pulled from his large collection and left on the table.

    He doesn't leave, though. It would be so easy; just a thought and a shifting of wings and he could disappear unnoticed. But he has no motivation to go; he isn't hungry for cheeseburgers or whatever revolting thing Dean shares a common bond with Castiel's vessel in craving, and he's sure that books will do little to hold his interest when this is happening right in front of his eyes.

    This being Sam sprawled out on a guest room bed, knees bent and legs spread as he works a fist over his hard cock. He's still mostly clothed: his flannel shirt is unbuttoned but there's still a t-shirt underneath, and his jeans and boxers are bunched around his calves. Castiel watches as Sam strokes himself, notices the way his hand twists as he nears the head, how he loosens his grip on the downstroke.

    From where Castiel is standing, peeking around the doorframe into the bedroom, one of Sam's knees blocks Cas's view of his face, so he can't see what the younger Winchester’s expression looks like when he jerks off (a term Castiel learned from Dean, who suggested it to him and told Castiel he needed to relax. Castiel has yet to follow Dean's advice, but here, now, watching Sam, he begins to understand the appeal).

    However, he can hear the man. Sam moans, drawn-out but quiet, whispery, probably from years of living in motel rooms, close quarters with his brother and father. Sam slides his hand faster over his erection and Castiel can see his whole body tighten before he's coming, crying out but still quiet, letting his hand drop to his side and panting, his whole body shaking.

    Castiel's own orgasm takes him by surprise. He hadn't even noticed he was hard inside his dress pants until suddenly he's dying for friction and when he presses against his crotch with one hand he thrusts forward into his own palm and comes, feeling the wetness leak through the fabric of his clothing.

    He vanishes before Sam is aware enough to look at the door, to realize it's open and that Castiel is watching him. Cleaning himself up with a thought, Castiel sits on a park bench not far from Bobby's house and thinks. It's wrong, what he did, watching Sam without his permission, and Castiel knows it. He feels ashamed, unclean.

    But he also feels good.
    Edited Date: 2010-04-20 05:21 pm (UTC)

    Re: Sam/Castiel; Voyeurism; R/NC-17

    Date: 2010-04-20 06:27 pm (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] hopelessfangirl.livejournal.com
    OMG, CAS CREEPIN' ON SAM IS MY NEW FAVOURITE THING.

    However, he can hear the man. Sam moans, drawn-out but quiet, whispery, probably from years of living in motel rooms, close quarters with his brother and father.

    I love that, it makes perfect sense and is extra hot.

    Um yeah, I'm out of words because I LOVE IT, plain and simple. Quality Sassy is quality, thank you so much! ♥ ♥ ♥

    Date: 2010-04-20 06:49 pm (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] janie-tangerine.livejournal.com
    Mm. Damn. I can't decide between two ships. *thinks* anyway, you have some lovely kinks up there. -nod- *goes brainstorming* Also lol shipping everyone with everyone = totally best possible approach, but then again I ship Dean with like TWO people or maybe three, so I can't say zilch. XD

    Date: 2010-04-20 07:02 pm (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] hopelessfangirl.livejournal.com
    Good luck; I'm sure whatever one you choose I will love! =D So far you're the only one I have a solid plot bunny for, so I've got yours like 75% written and then I'll have to edit cause OMG WHAT IS THIS, I'M WRITING PORN. O_O ;)

    PS: IS THAT A NEW ICON? I LOVE IT.

    (no subject)

    From: [identity profile] janie-tangerine.livejournal.com - Date: 2010-04-20 08:08 pm (UTC) - Expand
    From: [identity profile] janie-tangerine.livejournal.com
    [PS: this is totally AU, supernatural stuff never existed and Mary is still alive etc etc ;)]

    As Sam Winchester gets into the Stanford library for his first day in his third year of grad school (what was he thinking when he has opted for law at first? Yeah, well, in truth, ancient languages were more his thing, but if you go with that, grad school is kind of the sanest option to choose), is that the new librarian is fucking hot.

    Which, well, might not actually seem at first, because the guy isn’t exactly your standard of fucking hot.

    He’s about thirty, maybe a bit older, with brown hair so dark that it borders on black, wears a suit (which is weird enough because Sam has never seen a librarian with a suit around here) and looks not exactly small but still, kind of subdued. Sam hadn’t really noticed anything out of the ordinary when he got to the desk with his request, and then the librarian raises his head and fuck, Sam finds himself staring into breathtaking blue eyes. He doesn’t think that he has seen eyes of a purer shade of blue in his whole life; and they come with regular and delicate but-not-too-feminine lines on the guy’s face, a straight nose and two pink, full, slightly chapped lips which just beg to be kissed.

    Sam realizes he’s staring and then shakes his head and asks for his books. The guy nods and goes to retrieve them, and meanwhile Sam catches the name on his tag. Castiel N., it says, and duh, well, weird name, but it seems kind of appropriate.

    “These are your books. I assume you already know how to return them since you’re most definitely not a freshman,” the libra- Castiel says as Sam takes them. Two things happen, then: first thing, their fingers brush and Sam notices that Castiel’s fingers are warm and quite soft to the touch; second, that he hears Castiel’s voice. And fuck. It’s low, dark, and if you didn’t pay attention you’d say even close to flat, but it you do it really isn’t, and Sam is really glad that the librarian can’t see what’s going on below his waist.

    “Oh. Yeah. Thank you,” Sam blurts, before getting out of Dodge as fast as he can.

    --

    When that night he calls his brother (who is still in Lawrence and has bought the auto shop off their dad, and Sam doesn’t think he has ever heard him sound happier), he already expects the comments.

    “Dude, what? The librarian, now? Gross.”

    “Hey, he’s… like, thirty, maybe thirty-two, not fifty. And he’s hot.”

    “Yeah, like I trust your judgment on that. Alright, I’ll trust it on the hot part of it, but…”

    “God, Dean, not about Ruby again. I fucked up there, okay? I know. No need to remind me.”

    “Yeah, well, at least you’re seeing the light. I’ll give you that she was hot. But considering that all the girls you dated weren’t that much better, I guess that maybe you could give the other side a shot. Maybe it’ll go better.”

    “Shut it, jerk.”

    “Grad school or not, you’re totally still a fourteen-year-old bitch. But well, you really like the guy, go for it. Just check, before you get into his pants.”

    Sam’s cheeks are red when he closes the conversation.

    --

    Still, he spends the next three weeks loaning a lot more books than he needs.
    From: [identity profile] janie-tangerine.livejournal.com
    --

    The situation is stalled (and damn, why is it that when Sam is studying in the library he just can’t help paying more attention to the way Castiel’s tie is crooked on the left than to what he should be working on?) until one day he actually curses over some freaking Latin that he just doesn’t get.

    And he has never spoken out in a library in his whole life.

    Nice way to get people’s attention on you.

    What he doesn’t expect is a hand on his shoulder after, and when he turns to his left, duh, there’s Castiel, quite in his personal space, and while his mouth isn’t moving, his eyes are glinting with amusement.

    “I gather you need help?” he whispers, and fuuuck. That voice, lower?

    Sam is really glad that he’s sitting.

    “Yeah. It’s this part here. I just can’t translate it and…”

    “Meet me outside in half an hour,” Castiel whispers again, and Sam just nods, dumbfounded.

    He does, and turns out that the guy actually fucking taught Latin at another college on the other side of the country. Sam would like to ask why one would move here and give up a teaching position, but he keeps his mouth shut and just thanks Castiel profusely. Castiel nods and takes his thanks, even if he looks a bit embarrassed by all the attention, and then as Sam is about to leave, he calls him back.

    “If you need help again… “ he says before turning his shoulders back on Sam, tightening a tan trench coat around him, and Sam isn’t sure he believes it’s actually happening.

    --

    “Sammy, you idiot, you’ve been translating all your Latin crap with him for three weeks and you still haven’t gotten into the guy’s pants? How can we even be related?”

    “Dean, shut the fuck up. It’s not like that! He’s… he’s not easy!”

    Sam just doesn’t like the way Dean is making it sound like a cheap fuck. Castiel is everything but a cheap fuck, dammit, or the kind of. While being obviously very intelligent (well, you don’t land a teaching position at such a relatively young age if you aren’t), he just doesn’t slam it in your face, and he just has five years on Sam so not really that much, and while he’s mostly quiet until you speak with him more than twice, you can just see how passionate he is about what he does, and dammit, it’s just good to talk about stuff with him. Most of Sam’s friends are still from the days when he was in pre-law, so it’s not like he can, as Dean puts it, ‘gush with them over freaking three centuries old books’. And…

    He doesn’t realized he actually said it out loud.

    “Jesus fucking Christ, Sam, if you’re so whipped just ask him out. Or to a movie. Or something friends do. He isn’t your fucking teacher, just do something or I’m comin’ there and arrange it myself.”

    For some reason, the idea is frightening. And so he promises Dean he will.

    --
    From: [identity profile] gottalovev.livejournal.com
    Everyone has a breaking point, a moment where their sanity snaps and James just reached it. He doesn't know where his calm went to hide, but he's vibrating with barely reigned anger, and it's like the turmoil is feeding on itself, growing until all he can think is that he won't take it anymore. That's it, finito, game over.

    When the bane of his existence smirks as he stalks over, amused, James pushes him hard against the first available vertical surface. It happens to be the fridge and there's a big rattle inside as it rocks with the force of impact. James is plastered against House, an arm across his chest so he doesn't move until he's said everything that needs to be said.

    "I've had it. I've had it with you, and your games, and your methodical sabotage of my love life," James all but growls directly in House's face.

    For the first time he can recall, House doesn't talk back, no smartass quip, not even a mocking eyebrow. He's still, listening for once, so James barrels on.

    "From now on, you mind your own business. Is that clear?" James demands.

    "Yes," House says, and his voice is unusually gravelly.

    It makes James frown, but then he notices how House's breathing is ragged, short little pants between parted lips. James moves his forearm up against House's throat and it's like the pupils of House's eyes all but eat the blue, blowing wide. The fucker is turned on by this. By him.

    "You can't be serious?" Wilson says, but the growing hardness against his hip doesn't lie. House answers by arching against him, wanton, a dare in his eyes.

    "'Fraid so," he says, licking his lips. A pink flash of tongue and Wilson follows it with his own, crashing his mouth on House's in a bruising kiss.

    James doesn't know why he does it, even as he claims House's mouth as his. Wonders why it never happened before, too, it's just so right. Then James decides that it's going to happen way more often from now when House opens up and surrenders with a whimper.
    From: [identity profile] hopelessfangirl.livejournal.com
    OH MY GOD, THIS IS PERFECT. It's out of character but in character, if that makes any sense. I like that House barely says anything but his intention is all there. I absolutely ADORE this! Thank you so, so much! ♥

    Angel: Fred/Wesley - PG - Domesticity.

    Date: 2010-04-21 10:56 pm (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] yersi-fanel.livejournal.com
    Fred blinked slowly, studding the room with much care, making mental notes of every detail in it. She made a face, not liking the conclusion she reached after a few minutes of hard study.

    "Is not his style," She worriedly. "Is just not."

    "Come one puppet, is just a bloody room, He'll like it." Spike rolled his eyes, bored with the whole situation. He was helping Fred with the task of moving stuff from one place to another of the loft she and Wesley shared, she insisted in taking care of part of the decoration, especially Wesley's study, because she wanted to do something nice for him.

    "But, it just does not look like him, it just a study, not Wesley's study, not at all."

    "If you ask me to move the desk again, I'm tossing it over the window, savvy?" Fred pouted and in return Spike just sighed, "Fine, where do you want it?"

    "No, no, leave it that way. I got a much better idea!" Fred said and ran out of the loft, taking her backpack in her way out, leaving the door open, "Come on Spike!, I want to finish before he returns!"

    ******

    That very same day, Wesley was looking at the catalog in his hands, not sure what to pick out of it.

    "Are you done, Sir?" asked the nice lady for the fourth time, because he was taking too long to choose and she wanted to leave, it was almost her lunch hour and Wesley had not picked a thing yet.

    "I think… hum... can I ask you a question?"

    "Sure..."

    "What would you want if you were to live with, let's say, your significant other for the first time?"

    "You’re move in with you girlfriend?"

    "Yes, you could also say it like that."

    "I don't know sir, I think something nice would be enough, but don't you think that getting samples of scientific material is a bit odd for a gift?"

    "She's a very special girl."

    ******

    Wesley carried the box with much care, he entered the apartment and placed it over the table, looking at it as if was going to explode and making sure not even a single part was damaged.

    "Wes!" the ex-watcher almost tripped on his own feet when Fred came out of the nearest room and jumped over him in a thing hug, "I finished! Come over!"

    she leaded him to the study, Wesley found the room not as he expected and smiled anyway. Fred was giving him a nervous smile and shrugged. The room had a large TV and sound system, a very conformable sofa and at the other side a bookshelf from floor to ceiling, with all kind of books, from regular classic novel to some of the mystical material they were used to read.

    "I was not very sure about the TV, but I guess we could watch the history channel together."

    "It's perfect Fred, really, I like it."

    There was a hard sound over the living room and both ran there, to find the box Wesley brought turned over the coffee table and the contest all over the floor. Fred picked up a stuffed toy and looked at him unsure about its origins or intend. She was about to ask about it when a tiny bark got her attention, her gaze feel over the floor, when a small beagle puppy was seeking for attention.

    "Hello there," she picked the puppy, Wesley was behind her and rested his head in her shoulder, she looked at him, smiling.

    "I was not sure about it either but..."

    "Oh, I love it!" she lifted the puppy and giggled to them place it in one arm, "Him."

    "I could get you a plant if you prefer."

    "No, no, he is perfect, we could practice, you know? Taking care of someone else." She kissed Wes tenderly and went back to hug her new puppy.

    "Practice?"

    "Yes, for a family." She said that and bit her lip, the puppy barked and whined, seeking more attention. "What is it, darling? You want something to eat? Let’s get you something, so your Daddy can keep on gaping and looking silly in peace."

    Fred kissed him again and took the puppy’s paw to make him wave at the ex-watcher, then both left the room. Wesley was left there, still gaping in surprise.

    Maybe a book of how to be a parent for dummies would be a nice addiction to his future reading material.

    Re: Angel: Fred/Wesley - PG - Domesticity.

    Date: 2010-04-21 11:21 pm (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] hopelessfangirl.livejournal.com
    Awww, how adorable! I love the two of them being worried about having everything just perfect for their first living space together. This is lovely, thank you so much!
    From: [identity profile] ozmissage.livejournal.com
    Juliet’s always hungry after sex.

    Nine times out of ten they end up in the kitchen afterwards; James in his boxers, Juliet wearing nothing but his shirt.

    He cooks for her, standing at the stove scrambling eggs. She sits on the counter and watches him work, her long legs crossed at the ankle. He tells her stories about bad cons while they wait; one night he tells her about the Tampa job and she damn near laughs her ass off.

    He likes watching her eat; somehow she manages to make licking a spoon look sexy as hell. She always offers him a bite, holds her fork out to him and then pulls it away at the last minute making him curse. He smirks, promises to pay her back later.

    They never bother with the dishes at night, just dump them in the sink and head upstairs to fall back into bed. She gets sleepy after she eats, and sleepy Juliet is a hell of a thing to see. She gets cuddly and silly, starts giggling at everything---he likes that part, it ain’t often a man gets to hear Juliet Burke giggle.

    She always falls asleep first, her arms wrapped around his waist, her head resting on his chest so that he can feel every breath she takes ghosting across his skin. She looks beautiful like that, relaxed and unguarded. There’s something nice about lying in the dark with Juliet curled against him like that, it makes him feel safe somehow, peaceful in a way he’s never quite felt before.

    It’s nothing special really---just sex and eating eggs in the middle of the night and falling asleep with miles of blonde hair tickling his chin---but it all adds up, makes him feel like he’s got a home for the first time in his whole godforsaken life.

    He’ll never tell her this, not in so many words---but come morning he’ll wake up to the smell of burnt toast and bacon and she’ll kiss him without having to think about it and he’ll know it don’t really matter if he ever says it.

    They both know what they’ve got here.
    From: [identity profile] hopelessfangirl.livejournal.com
    Omg, this is absolutely wonderful! By far my favourite thing about Sawyer/Juliet is that sense of belonging and "home" that they share, particularly for Sawyer who was robbed of that early in life. This just perfectly captures that. ♥ And I love that you included Juliet being hungry after sex cause I remember her sitting and eating peanut butter(?) with a spoon while in bed with Goodwin was one of my favourite random little Juliet moments ever. =D

    I LOVE this, thank you so much!

    Date: 2010-04-24 07:42 am (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] ewanspotter.livejournal.com
    You're like the only person I know who doesn't ship Dean/Cas.

    Date: 2010-04-24 06:02 pm (UTC)
    From: [identity profile] hopelessfangirl.livejournal.com
    Yep, it's a lonely shipping road I travel. I can see one-sided Dean/Cas from Cas's perspective, but I dunno about the other way. =\ *shrug* Just not my cup of tea.

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