the first seven ficlets
There may be more later. I don't know. Note the ratings.
[Stargate: Atlantis, Weir/Zelenka, ice cream, for alyse. PG-13. 100 words]
Homemade
Radek came into Elizabeth's office almost bouncing at having ice cream for her, homemade and fresh and tasting of chocolate. But the look in her eyes deflated him, and while he sighed, she changed from lover to leader.
"Should you really be using lab resources for making desserts?"
"You can think of something better to be doing with the Ancients' technology?"
She cloaked a giggle with a sigh.
"We wouldn't have to eat it if you are worried about calories. You could wear it, and I could lick it off."
"So that's what this is about."
"It is about dessert.
++
[Buffyverse, Angelus/Dru/Spike, leather whip, for goddess_loki. NC-17. D/s, S/m, crazy. 100 words]
Like a Good Dog Should
Spike's a dog tonight, with his tail wrapped around him, and he whines so nicely. She pets him, cooing good doggy while Daddy whips him.
"Do you like it, puppy?"
"Love it," he says in a whine.
Singsong: "Say please."
He shakes all over when the whip hits him, like he's got worms in his skin. The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out.
"Be a good dog. Beg," she barks.
And because Spike is a good dog, he rolls over and begs, and Daddy's long leather tail whips around him, leaving streaks of blood.
"Oh, isn't he precious, Daddy?"
++
[Buffyverse, Faith/Tara, first time together, for cadence_k. R. 169 words]
Preparations
Faith bounces on the bed, edgy and ready. "You coming or not?"
"In a minute," Tara says for like the fifth time.
"You coming?"
"I'm getting ready," Tara tells her patiently, and Faith rolls her eyes and flips herself backwards. She could kill anything right now, would do anything, for Tara to be done grooming herself and ready for sex.
"You scared or something?"
Tara laughs. "Not as scared as you."
"I'm not scared."
And Tara finally emerges, wearing this flimsy white *thing* that is magnetically attracted to Faith's fingers. When the nightgown's off and there's nothing stopping Faith from touching her breasts, she knows why Tara had to get ready. She could use a minute herself, give her time to look before she plunges in. Tara's gonna make her like B, patient and scheming. Nevermind that; she's got breasts to touch.
Tara sighs so low Faith thinks she might've broken her, but the finger on the zip of her jeans tells her different.
"I'm ready now," Tara says.
++
[Buffyverse, Willow/Xander, talking about their long friendship, for invisionary. NC-17. 236 words.]
For You Only
Xander wouldn't let - Xander let Anya but - Xander wouldn't even let Buffy - unless of course she begged. Or asked. Or seemed to want to -
Xander wouldn't be buggered by just anyone.
But Xander's known Willow since before he could speak, and when she's naked for him, Xander can't speak at all.
And he's like this for her, raw and newborn.
And he's like this for her, bouncing up the stairs to preschool, willing and eager to learn. Willow can make Xander forget that he hates school.
And he's like this for her, tongue-tied and twisted, and he can't think of how to show her how he loves her except to touch her, to feel her breasts, to stroke her pussy, to pull her long ponytail and run away, scared, because he doesn't know what he feels at all.
And he's always been like this for her, even when he wasn't. He licks the ice cream off her nose this time, and always will again.
"Say you're sorry," Willow whispers, and slips the first finger in.
"I'm sorry." He'd say anything.
The first time Xander kissed her, he forgot for a minute that he was alive. He'd die for her. He thinks he has.
"Say you love me."
"I've always loved you, Will." She slips another finger in.
And he can't remember anything else, just fingers, just Willow fingers, Willow hands, and bliss.
++
[Stargate: SG-1, Sam/Daniel, ice cubes, for zeldaophelia. NC-17, wacky hijinnks. 187 words]
Downtime
Daniel lounges against Sam's spotlessly clean one hundred percent Formica kitchen counter, drinking domestic beer and flinching at the taste, while Sam rummages through her freezer.
"When was the last time you cleaned it?"
"The last time I cooked," she tells him helpfully.
"We don't need ice."
"I want ice."
"Why do you want ice, Sam?"
"Aha!" she eurekas. "I found it."
"Really old ice?"
She drops an ice cube down his shirt, and he stops lounging.
"Let's make love now," Sam suggests.
Daniel's really not about to argue with that suggestion. And though he doesn't understand the ice thing, he's an anthropologist and game for anything, especially things that culminate in a warm mouth wrapped around his dick and ice dribbling down his thighs. He flails more than he usually does during sex, and one arm accidentally knocks Sam's favorite lamp onto the floor.
Fortunately, she's too distracted to care. She's even too distracted to notice Daniel sneaking one arm over her shoulders, sliding an ice cube down her backbone.
In retrospect, this wasn't the wisest thing to do while her mouth was on his dick.
++
[Buffyverse, Willow/Giles/Buffy UST, lickage, for glimmergirl. PG-13 or R, depending on how good your imagination is. 260 words.]
Blame It On The Snackfood
Willow would be a good girl, really, if it weren't for lollipops. But recently Giles has developed a fixation, and always has a big fishbowl of cherry lollipops on his desk, so most afternoons when she gets to the library and slings her backpack onto the table, Buffy's already there, wearing her teeny tanktop and stretching heartily, a stick hanging out of her mouth. Then she'll unbend herself and pop the sucker out of her mouth and say, "Hi Will!" and Willow can see that her tongue's bright red. And then Buffy will take a long, slow lick of candy before saying, "I've really got to stop eating these," and resuming her stretching.
So you see, Willow has a problem.
It doesn't help that Giles is also really fond of lollipops and is always sticking his hand into the bowl and grabbing a handful and offering one to Willow saying, "Really, you should have one. They're quite - yummy," and then smiling and unwrapping one himself, crinkling the cellophane wrapper between two big, knotty fingers before taking an absentminded lick of his lollipop while watching Buffy from behind as she touches her toes.
Willow really ought to find a less distracting place to do her homework, but whenever she gets up to leave, Buffy sticks out her lower lip and begs her to stay and Giles says, "We can always use your help," and Willow, poor, innocent Willow, has no choice but to sit down and stick a lollipop in her own mouth, to prevent her from blurting out something unfortunate.
++
[Farscape, John/Aeryn/John, s'mores, for catherinebruce. R. Spoils through "Meltdown."]
The Difference
John - her John, who's been living with her on Talyn for a half a cycle - has chocolate on his nose. Whenever she tries to clean him, one of the Johns will grab her hand and say, "You want to get us confused?"
She couldn't get them confused. They're as different from each other as one pulse pistol and another. There was a time, not very long ago, when everyone not in her regiment looked identical, when she could identify men only by the uniform they wore.
Now she knows without looking which John has his hand on her. Sometimes they can't even tell each other apart, but she always can.
John - her John - has his hands on her thighs and is earnestly explaining s'mores to her, chocolate and crackers - "Not the crap like we have on Moya, these are good crackers. The best. Graham crackers. And marshmallows. Marshmallows are best when they're gooey - "
"And crisp on the outside," says the other John, and Aeryn tries to relax as he massages her shoulders, but it's difficult.
"Who's telling this story?"
"I'm just a little surprised you were frelling her for six months and didn't teach her campfire rituals."
"Boys," Aeryn says warningly, and instantly they're both attuned only to her, rubbing her shoulders, rubbing her thighs. She didn't think she would let herself be aroused in his presence, but John knows her so well she can't not be aroused. She relaxes another notch, and waits.
It's the other John who kisses her. She had expected that but not so soon.
"Things'll be different now," John whispers from between her legs. She knows, and kisses him back.
++
[Stargate: Atlantis, Weir/Zelenka, ice cream, for alyse. PG-13. 100 words]
Homemade
Radek came into Elizabeth's office almost bouncing at having ice cream for her, homemade and fresh and tasting of chocolate. But the look in her eyes deflated him, and while he sighed, she changed from lover to leader.
"Should you really be using lab resources for making desserts?"
"You can think of something better to be doing with the Ancients' technology?"
She cloaked a giggle with a sigh.
"We wouldn't have to eat it if you are worried about calories. You could wear it, and I could lick it off."
"So that's what this is about."
"It is about dessert.
++
[Buffyverse, Angelus/Dru/Spike, leather whip, for goddess_loki. NC-17. D/s, S/m, crazy. 100 words]
Like a Good Dog Should
Spike's a dog tonight, with his tail wrapped around him, and he whines so nicely. She pets him, cooing good doggy while Daddy whips him.
"Do you like it, puppy?"
"Love it," he says in a whine.
Singsong: "Say please."
He shakes all over when the whip hits him, like he's got worms in his skin. The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out.
"Be a good dog. Beg," she barks.
And because Spike is a good dog, he rolls over and begs, and Daddy's long leather tail whips around him, leaving streaks of blood.
"Oh, isn't he precious, Daddy?"
++
[Buffyverse, Faith/Tara, first time together, for cadence_k. R. 169 words]
Preparations
Faith bounces on the bed, edgy and ready. "You coming or not?"
"In a minute," Tara says for like the fifth time.
"You coming?"
"I'm getting ready," Tara tells her patiently, and Faith rolls her eyes and flips herself backwards. She could kill anything right now, would do anything, for Tara to be done grooming herself and ready for sex.
"You scared or something?"
Tara laughs. "Not as scared as you."
"I'm not scared."
And Tara finally emerges, wearing this flimsy white *thing* that is magnetically attracted to Faith's fingers. When the nightgown's off and there's nothing stopping Faith from touching her breasts, she knows why Tara had to get ready. She could use a minute herself, give her time to look before she plunges in. Tara's gonna make her like B, patient and scheming. Nevermind that; she's got breasts to touch.
Tara sighs so low Faith thinks she might've broken her, but the finger on the zip of her jeans tells her different.
"I'm ready now," Tara says.
++
[Buffyverse, Willow/Xander, talking about their long friendship, for invisionary. NC-17. 236 words.]
For You Only
Xander wouldn't let - Xander let Anya but - Xander wouldn't even let Buffy - unless of course she begged. Or asked. Or seemed to want to -
Xander wouldn't be buggered by just anyone.
But Xander's known Willow since before he could speak, and when she's naked for him, Xander can't speak at all.
And he's like this for her, raw and newborn.
And he's like this for her, bouncing up the stairs to preschool, willing and eager to learn. Willow can make Xander forget that he hates school.
And he's like this for her, tongue-tied and twisted, and he can't think of how to show her how he loves her except to touch her, to feel her breasts, to stroke her pussy, to pull her long ponytail and run away, scared, because he doesn't know what he feels at all.
And he's always been like this for her, even when he wasn't. He licks the ice cream off her nose this time, and always will again.
"Say you're sorry," Willow whispers, and slips the first finger in.
"I'm sorry." He'd say anything.
The first time Xander kissed her, he forgot for a minute that he was alive. He'd die for her. He thinks he has.
"Say you love me."
"I've always loved you, Will." She slips another finger in.
And he can't remember anything else, just fingers, just Willow fingers, Willow hands, and bliss.
++
[Stargate: SG-1, Sam/Daniel, ice cubes, for zeldaophelia. NC-17, wacky hijinnks. 187 words]
Downtime
Daniel lounges against Sam's spotlessly clean one hundred percent Formica kitchen counter, drinking domestic beer and flinching at the taste, while Sam rummages through her freezer.
"When was the last time you cleaned it?"
"The last time I cooked," she tells him helpfully.
"We don't need ice."
"I want ice."
"Why do you want ice, Sam?"
"Aha!" she eurekas. "I found it."
"Really old ice?"
She drops an ice cube down his shirt, and he stops lounging.
"Let's make love now," Sam suggests.
Daniel's really not about to argue with that suggestion. And though he doesn't understand the ice thing, he's an anthropologist and game for anything, especially things that culminate in a warm mouth wrapped around his dick and ice dribbling down his thighs. He flails more than he usually does during sex, and one arm accidentally knocks Sam's favorite lamp onto the floor.
Fortunately, she's too distracted to care. She's even too distracted to notice Daniel sneaking one arm over her shoulders, sliding an ice cube down her backbone.
In retrospect, this wasn't the wisest thing to do while her mouth was on his dick.
++
[Buffyverse, Willow/Giles/Buffy UST, lickage, for glimmergirl. PG-13 or R, depending on how good your imagination is. 260 words.]
Blame It On The Snackfood
Willow would be a good girl, really, if it weren't for lollipops. But recently Giles has developed a fixation, and always has a big fishbowl of cherry lollipops on his desk, so most afternoons when she gets to the library and slings her backpack onto the table, Buffy's already there, wearing her teeny tanktop and stretching heartily, a stick hanging out of her mouth. Then she'll unbend herself and pop the sucker out of her mouth and say, "Hi Will!" and Willow can see that her tongue's bright red. And then Buffy will take a long, slow lick of candy before saying, "I've really got to stop eating these," and resuming her stretching.
So you see, Willow has a problem.
It doesn't help that Giles is also really fond of lollipops and is always sticking his hand into the bowl and grabbing a handful and offering one to Willow saying, "Really, you should have one. They're quite - yummy," and then smiling and unwrapping one himself, crinkling the cellophane wrapper between two big, knotty fingers before taking an absentminded lick of his lollipop while watching Buffy from behind as she touches her toes.
Willow really ought to find a less distracting place to do her homework, but whenever she gets up to leave, Buffy sticks out her lower lip and begs her to stay and Giles says, "We can always use your help," and Willow, poor, innocent Willow, has no choice but to sit down and stick a lollipop in her own mouth, to prevent her from blurting out something unfortunate.
++
[Farscape, John/Aeryn/John, s'mores, for catherinebruce. R. Spoils through "Meltdown."]
The Difference
John - her John, who's been living with her on Talyn for a half a cycle - has chocolate on his nose. Whenever she tries to clean him, one of the Johns will grab her hand and say, "You want to get us confused?"
She couldn't get them confused. They're as different from each other as one pulse pistol and another. There was a time, not very long ago, when everyone not in her regiment looked identical, when she could identify men only by the uniform they wore.
Now she knows without looking which John has his hand on her. Sometimes they can't even tell each other apart, but she always can.
John - her John - has his hands on her thighs and is earnestly explaining s'mores to her, chocolate and crackers - "Not the crap like we have on Moya, these are good crackers. The best. Graham crackers. And marshmallows. Marshmallows are best when they're gooey - "
"And crisp on the outside," says the other John, and Aeryn tries to relax as he massages her shoulders, but it's difficult.
"Who's telling this story?"
"I'm just a little surprised you were frelling her for six months and didn't teach her campfire rituals."
"Boys," Aeryn says warningly, and instantly they're both attuned only to her, rubbing her shoulders, rubbing her thighs. She didn't think she would let herself be aroused in his presence, but John knows her so well she can't not be aroused. She relaxes another notch, and waits.
It's the other John who kisses her. She had expected that but not so soon.
"Things'll be different now," John whispers from between her legs. She knows, and kisses him back.
++