WARNING: Some of these stories are rated NC-17. NC-17 means no one under the age of 18 may read it, according to the LAW. If you are under the age
of 18 please leave this site now. You can find my PG, PG-13 and R rated works here.
_____________________________________________________________________
Written for Sunday 100 (100 word drabbles)
[ Homo-eroticism Challenge - Angel/Xander ] NC-17 [ Silver Challenge - Spike ] PG [ Homo-eroticism Challenge - Angel/Spike ] PG-13 [ Alt Universe Challenge - Faith ] PG-13 [ Fantasy Challenge - Faith/Wes/Fred ] NC-17 [ First’s Challenge - Faith ] PG - Other Drabbles (Various length) [ Spike/Tara Picture Challenge ] PG-13 [ Spike/Inanimate Object Challenge ] NC-17
~Inner Beauty ( Willow/Giles - PG - wish challenge)~
She used to wish she was popular. That she was pretty. That she wasn't a geek.
Then she met Buffy. And she was still a geek, but being a geek meant something new. It meant being brainy, being the person people looked to for help. She dyed her hair red, she changed. She got the
boyfriend she'd always wanted, and eventually the woman she'd never known she wanted. But she never got the thing she wished for the most until after it seemed too late.
Giles had never looked at her like that before she tried to end the world.
_______________________________________
~Inner Beauty II ( Willow/Giles - PG - wish challenge)~
England. Beautiful flat green fields of peace that offered her no comfort. England was the home of her
sin, the home of her self-hatred. It was the antithesis of her evil, its innocence and peace drawing sharp contrast to her darkened, vengeful heart. It hurt, being here. It reminded her of what she wasn't, like
a thin razor wire drawn over her soul.
She wished to be better, to be good again. Giles made her believe that she could be. He was so tender. He told her she had a choice.
Was it wrong that she wanted to kiss him?
_______________________________________
~Inner Beauty III ( Willow/Giles - PG - wish challenge)~
England would never be her home, but as she slowly forged a link with its loamy earth, she found a kind
of solace in it. With time, nature gave healing of spirit, but not of heart. She found that elsewhere.
She stood in the doorway and stared out over low green hills, and a pair of arms encircled her waist.
She turned, and he touched her hair, kissed her mouth.
"What are you thinking?" he asked.
She smiled, kissed him again. "That I have nothing left to wish for."
England would never be home, but it was where Giles was.
_______________________________________
~The Hands of Time (Angel/Buffy - PG - silver challenge)~
Silver.
Silver would have been the color of their wedding rings. The perfect compliment to her spun gold hair and her smooth, tawny skin.
Later, he thought that gold and silver would be perfect. Bands of yellow warmth twined with pale glittering beauty, like the gossamer threads that streaked her golden hair as she grew older.
And when at last her hair was completely silver, he gave up hopes of wedding bands and prayed for apocalypse, for the end of days and the reward he'd been promised so many years ago.
They buried her with all his other broken dreams.
_________________________________________
~Portent ( Spike - PG - silver challenge )~
In the darkness of the seer's tent, Spike smiled. "So if I get him to feed on this gypsy girl..." he paused, chuckled mirthfully. "They'll give him a soul?"
The demon nodded, eyeing Spike nervously.
Spike ignored him, thinking. Lure them near the gypsy camp, point out the girl to Darla, drop a suggestion... so simple.
"I suppose you'll want to hurry off and warn your friend now?"
Spike laughed.
"I told you everything you wanted to know," the demon pleaded, backing away.
"Speech is silver," Spike said, advancing on the demon, face shifting, yellow eyes glaring. "But silence is golden."
___________________________________________
~Sweet Nightmares (Angel/Xander - NC-17 - homo-eroticism challenge)~
He hisses, biting down on his lower lip as he stifles a cry of pure pleasure. This is beyond all the times he's imagined it; young, smooth body beneath him, clenching with virginal tightness as he slowly slides in and out, each thrust eliciting desperate gasps and begging moans. He loves the way his name sounds coming off those sweet, boyish lips, guttural and raw with need for him--all for him.
"Angel," Xander pleads, shuddering.
Angel wakes in his own bed, alone and disgusted. Just a dream, he thinks, relieved.
But he's rock hard, and the sheets are wet.
_______________________________________
~Just Like Old Times (Spike/Angel - PG-13 - homo-eroticism challenge)~
It was exquisite.
Bent over the hood of the car, Spike's hot, tight body pressed beneath him, the smell of oiled leather
filling up his senses, the bare nape of Spike's neck so near.
Oh, how he wanted to sink his fangs deep into pale, inviting flesh that had once been so willing. Would
Spike still be willing? Did it matter if he wasn't? It never had, before. Angelus had done everything to him, made the younger vampire his plaything... and Spike had loved every second of it, willing or not.
Angel shuddered, gasped--and Spike spun, knocking him away.
_______________________________________
~The Final Nail (Buffy/Angel - PG-13 - alternate universe challenge)~
She'd been dying; green eyes wide with pain, blood and mortality. He'd held her with love in his arms and tears in his eyes, and tried to let her go. He tried... but he didn't.
Their love died the moment her heart stopped beating. There would be no spells this time, no resurrections. The final nail had been his. And now he drove it home.
"I love you," Angel whispered and slipped the stake beneath her breast, and blond hair scattered to ash on the wind.
He turned it on himself, and was dust before his tears struck the ground.
_______________________________________
~Wishverse: Come August (Faith - PG-13 - alternate universe challenge)~
Faith had been expecting the Council to send a new Slayer since her recent "death". She wasn't disappointed; the girl fought almost as well as Faith herself, though she looked younger than Faith had
been when she'd been called.
"Come on, August," she teased with a sly grin, ducking the girl's spinning kick. "You don't think simple kicks and punches are gonna work against the Master, do you?"
After all, Faith thought as she reached out and grabbed August's head between her hands, snapping the girl's neck. They hadn't saved her, had they?
Fangs descended. August's blood was still warm.
_______________________________________
~Earth Below Us (Spike/Buffy - PG - alternate universe challenge)~
He'd loved Dru like the black, precious pearl she was. When she'd left him, the moon had crept down out of the sky and he'd wept for its loss. How silly and young he'd been then.
Loving Buffy had been like the sun; bright, full of life and heat, blooming like a supernova inside them both until age had claimed her. Golden rays of light fell now across her grave, but they paled. Oh, how they paled.
He would not weep this time.
"I'm coming home, love."
Spike stepped into the sunlight, spread his arms, and smiled through the flames.
_______________________________________
~Spirit Guide (Buffy, Tara - PG - dead and gone challenge)~
Buffy opened her eyes and squinted into bright white light. She blinked and the pain of sudden
brightness began to dissipate, but she recognized the scent of dull, earthy sand on the wind long before her eyes adjusted enough to tell her where she was.
The desert.
Tara stood before her, encased in clinging silk, intricately beaded jewelry and gemstones dripping from her like ripened fruit, and smiled, face gentle, serene. And then Buffy could see him, standing behind
Tara, distant dunes visible through his translucent form, amulet still hanging around his neck.
"See you soon," he said and smiled.
_______________________________________
~Torn (Faith/Wes/Fred - NC-17 - fantasy challenge)~
He slips sometimes.
Hips rising, thrusting, in and out, wet warmth, delicious friction. She is wonderful, beautiful, everything
sweet and innocent, and he is elated. Then the glasses melt, her smile twists, changing her face from good girl to smirking whore. Dark eyes, deep and sweet, grow bitter, glittering like hard candy.
She rocks her hips, devouring him as she teases mercilessly. He gasps and tries to pull away, fingers tangling in still-brunette hair, and she reaches down, pins his wrists to the bed, and smiles as she rides him to orgasm.
"Come, Wesley," Faith whispers.
And gasping, shuddering, he does.
_______________________________________
~First Kill - (Faith, pre-BtVS - PG - ‘firsts’ challenge)~
She rolls with the punch, letting new instincts take over, and tastes blood, dirt and grass, the sour tang of stung pride.
The woman is here, the Watcher, and though Faith wants badly to impress her new teacher, she will never let it show.
She leaps, dodges a clumsy fist, and ducks under the fledgling's arm like the woman taught her. The
stake strikes and it vaporizes, leaves her face sooty with ashy remains, grinning triumphantly. Dead. Dead because of her.
This is victory, she thinks, feeling giddy. And then another, darker voice speaks up inside her mind.
No. This is power.
_______________________________________
Written in response to anniesj and wisteria’s LJ challenge: write a 150-word story about Spike involving an inanimate object. Of course, it’s NC-17, un-beta’d and written solely for fun!
~Penned Lust (Spike/Other)~
They could never know.
Spike's fingers tremble as they sweep lower, brushing over finely trimmed fur. Pink skin, so extraordinary beneath his fingertips, making him tremble.
So wrong. So forbidden. So fucking hot.
He can't help himself. Bites down on his lower lip as his passion overwhelms him, fingers of his other hand creeping lower, unzipping himself. And then he touches his own skin, not soft like the object of
his desire, no--he is hard and pale, erect with appreciation for the pink skin beneath his fingers.
He turns his face into the pillow and shudders, biting down hard as he strokes his fingers over his own
flesh. Feels the silky fur, sweet soft skin, sliding beneath his other hand--and can't hold back any longer, back arching as he convulses with sweet release, pillow relinquished from his lips, crying out his secret
love's name with undying devotion--
"Oh! God! Mr. Gordo!"
_______________________________________
Written in response to Circe Tigana’s “write a story for this picture” challenge. Look at the picture first
or the story won’t make sense.
~In The Name Of Love (Spike/Tara)~
Spike turned his head and gazed sidelong at Tara, long mascara-thick lashes blinking at her once. "You
really think this is going to help me channel my feminine energy?"
"The witchdoctor said it would, sweetie," Tara said, giving him a reassuring smile that made her little drawn on mustache crinkle cutely.
Spike's mouth curled in a smirk, and he leaned toward her, wanting to catch her absurdly made-up mouth with his.
Tara put a hand against his chest, pushed him gently backward.
"No sweetie. Concentrate on the spell."
He frowned, growing pouty and petulant, and he looked like a two-dollar whore who'd gotten stuck
holding the bill. "Why do we have to do the bloody stupid spell anyway?"
"It's supposed to bring us closer together, remember? I channel male energy, you channel female
energy and then we both understand each other better."
"I'm very in touch with my feminine side. I don't need a sodding spell for that." When Tara only looked
at him, he shifted uncomfortably in his flowered dress. Damned wispy thing. "Well, I don't. And we understand each other just fine." He stiffened then, narrowed his eyes at her. "Hey. I know what this is
about. This is about how you used to be a lesbian, isn't it? Got to have me channel 'female energy' so I can be more feminine for you, is that it?"
"Shh." Tara pressed a finger to his lips. "It has nothing to do with that and you know it. It's just a simple exercise so we can both know what it's like to be in each others bodies."
"I already know what it's like to be in your body," Spike said huskily, leaning toward her again. "Sweet,"
he whispered, lips grazing over hers. "Hot. Tight. Like the whole world was melting all around me."
She gave a shuddery sigh against his mouth, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her
closer. Her lips were soft, redolent with the taste of sugared plums, and he drew her deep inside him, tongues entwining, savoring every trace.
She wrapped her arms around him, one hand pressing against the base of his neck, the other tangled in his hair, and pulled him down on top of her.
"What about the spell, love?" he asked breathily, unable to resist teasing her.
She looked up at him, lips smeared with the Fire Engine Whore Red lipstick he wore, ridiculous
grease-pencil mustache twisting with that sweet, quirky grin that made his knees want to quiver.
"Sod the spell," she said, pulling him down to her again.
_______________________________________
[ short stories ] [ epics ] [ btvs / ats fic ] [ x-men fic ] [ feedback ] [ home ]