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buffyverse anon kink meme, anyone? [Dec. 4th, 2008|10:51 pm]
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[glimmergirl]
So, antennapedia and I realized the best way to solve our need for a buffyverse anon kink meme was simply to start one ourselves and hope other people are interested. This comm seemed to be well-suited to the purpose as it's very kink-friendly and includes fans from all corners of the buffyverse. Mods, let us know if it's not appropriate, otherwise...



... buffyverse anonymous kink meme info...

- Post an anonymous request for some characters and a kink. Your prompt can be shippy or gen, wildly kinky or vanilla. Want to read it? Ask for it!
- Slash, femmeslash, and het are all welcome, as are solo flights, threesomes, and moresomes.
- Read through the list of requests, find one that inspires you, and reply with your fic or art response.
- Please post anonymously here.
- Be respectful of other people's kinks and ships.

Here are some example prompts:
Buffy + Willow, eating jelly beans.
Spike/Xander, tattoos.
Angel/Cordelia, vamping, with loads of h/c.
LinkReply

Comments:
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From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-05 04:00 am (UTC)

(Link)

Giles/Wesley, Giles's braces put to use on Wesley's wrists.
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-06 07:25 am (UTC)

(Link)

[warnings: semiformal D/s, bondage]

"Blue and Bracing"
(with apologies to Milne)

When Giles loosens his cuffs and removes his braces, they both let out the deep breath they hold at the library, the terrible formality of it, the careful, mincing steps that Wesley takes around his Master and the almost casual rudeness with which Giles dismisses him -- it is all a game, but not their Game. Not the Game that Wesley would rather play.

Giles half-smirks, half-smiles. He runs a hand through his own hair -- in a moment, he will have a drink, sit on his couch, let Wesley remove his shoes and begin to touch him -- begin to unwind the day's burdens and spin new thread: the two of them, twined.

For now, Wesley looks at the floor of Giles's flat, not quite able to meet Master's eyes, but scared to close his own -- that the nightmare will still be there. After the library, the graveyard, and after that, the Bronze, and the vampires that his Slayers -- their Slayers -- His Slayers -- chased there. The flecks of gore on the neck of the victim they couldn't save, and Giles's pocket handkerchief mussed -- ruined -- with Buffy's sweat and blood.

"Mr Giles, sir --"

"In a moment, Wesley. In a moment."

So Wesley lifts his eyes to the couch, the articles of dress that Giles has discarded, the bright blue braces, Milnean (http://www.dymphna.net/ucsl//archive/angelsparrow-scaryvisual.txt), enticing. They bound Giles all day, have tasted his sweat and labor when Wesley has been restrained in his own bonds, and --

"What are you doing? With my -- let me guess. Another fetish?"

"I've been very repressed," Wesley says, and his understatement sounds ridiculous as soon as he says it. "Sir, would you --?"

Giles takes a last deep breath before descending to play the Game -- "Come here, boy."

It's so easy to cease being himself, then, to come and let Giles hold his chin, examine his face and mouth for imperfection, claim him with a quick kiss and transform him into boy, the abstract creature of schoolboy fantasy -- hopelessly young, utterly helpless.

At Master's mercy, as the braces go around his wrists, loosely, then more dangerous -- hands bound behind him, and his own belt loosed, his trousers removed. Giles is very good, very quick -- not sensual at all, a man doing a distasteful job.

"Are you ready to serve me?" Giles asks, and Wesley can't bring himself to nod -- opens his mouth wide, begging for a gag. Giles pushes him to his knees, firmly enough -- enough so that he has no choice, anyhow, enough so that he couldn't say no. Giles undoes his own zip, lets his own prick escape from his shorts, guides it into Wesley's mouth without asking consent or demanding submission. Wesley is His, property, slave, to fuck as he pleases, and as he settles into a pace, a quick shallow fucking then, for a few seconds, as deep as Wesley can take him, as deep as he can go, his cock rests at the back of Wesley's throat. Wesley's lips are spread wide around him, and he -- he opens his eyes, now, and looks up, and, hands bound behind his back and impaled with his Master's cock, Wesley feels free for the first time all week.
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From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-05 04:28 am (UTC)

(Link)

Buffy/Willow. Pancakes, jammies, and nuzzling
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-05 04:29 am (UTC)

(Link)

Giles/Willow, library spank
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-05 04:36 am (UTC)

(Link)

Buffy/Giles. Thermometer.
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-05 04:37 am (UTC)

(Link)

Giles/Tara, guitar, magic.
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-05 05:02 am (UTC)

(Link)

Wesley (solo), vampires
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-11 04:44 pm (UTC)

(Link)

Here go. Hope you like. :)

-------

His letter from the Academy came today. The acceptance was never in question; his father is Roger Wyndam-Pryce, after all. But its coming is why he is standing at a fresh grave tonight, waiting. This isn't an Academy requirement. It's a Wyndam-Pryce tradition, which is far less yielding. If he is to become a Watcher, he first must slay a vampire. Alone. If cousin Frederick is forced to intervene...

He won't be. Wesley cannot even contemplate the result if he were.

Soil shifts at his feet. He stiffens. Up comes one hand, then the other. The dirt spills away and the vampire thrusts his shoulders upward and out.

Wesley's never seen one so close before. For a moment he is frozen, staring at this thing he is bound by blood and duty to kill.

The vampire sees him. It snarls.

He's fought before: fisticuffs that earned him a bloody nose and a reprimand, and then the training under Frederick's dour tutelage. Those times were nothing like this. He's not prepared for the fear that crackles over his skin, or the nausea that rises at the particular shade of yellow in the creature's eyes as it lunges for him.

Wesley staggers aside and jabs with the stake, but he is much too slow. The vampire swipes at him and grabs the back of his neck with fingernails ragged and gritty from clawing through gravedirt. He twists away and bats at the arm that reaches for him. Then one wrist is caught, useless, in a steel grip. The panic that's been riding him finally digs its spurs in. Fear-blind, he drives the stake square in the vampire's chest just as its fangs graze his throat. For one eternal instant he's sure he's missed, and then the creature dissolves in a chill swirl of dust and a hollow cry--the cry of the damned, Wesley thinks. The dust clouds around him, sticking to his sweaty skin.

He did it. He, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, slew a vampire. He's going to go to the Academy and become a Watcher and then he's going to disprove every black prediction his father has ever muttered about the dilution of the Wyndam-Pryce family line.

He realizes he's still clutching the stake, his grip so tight that splinters are digging into his fingers. He loosens his hold. He's going to frame the thing, he thinks. Or maybe have it bronzed.

Frederick is at his side now, and Wesley can't keep the foolish grin off his face. "Did you see?" he says. "I slew the bloody bastard!"

Frederick is not grinning. "Another half-second and he'd have had your carotid artery. You father won't be pleased." He turns and begins walking towards the car.

For a moment Wesley watches him go, and then he drops the stake to the grass and follows.
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From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-05 05:24 am (UTC)

(Link)

Dawn/Xander, underage
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-05 05:48 am (UTC)

(Link)

Giles/Xander, handguns, gun oil as lube
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-05 08:56 am (UTC)

(Link)

Giles/Willow, toys
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-22 04:11 pm (UTC)

Voila

(Link)

Rupert always starts with the anal plug. She never thought she'd like having something up her butt, until he teased her and stroked her and opened her up with his fingertip and then slid the cool firm slick rubber in, no thicker than a finger until yeow, the bulge in the middle popped through and then she was full. She came the first time, just from taking the plug all the way in.

Having the butt plug makes her clit ache like crazy, so it's good that Rupert uses the vibrator next. He smooths back the tuft of red hair over her clit--he won't let her shave, or even trim it too close--and strokes the slim shiny length along her pussy lips. She's already wet from kissing and petting and taking the plug; the vibrator slides over her, and she whimpers and wiggles trying to get the buzz just where she wants it, inside her, or over her clit. Rupert's lips twitch, not quite a smirk; he likes watching her squirm, Watcher that he is, and he likes to tease. He won't give her what he wants right away; instead he presses the vibe against the base of the butt plug and twists it up a notch, then another, strong enough to make her feel it. She's been hinting about getting an anal vibe, but he hasn't bought one yet. The rules are clear: Willow requests the toys, but Rupert buys them. Willow tells him what she wants, and then Rupert does what he pleases.

The vibe glides off the plug, dips into her cunt, and lands on her clit. Bliss. Willow moves with it, whimpers, moans, yes, yes, please, oh, right there, and just as the orgasm is about to hit, the vibrator slides inside. She hears herself shout--but it's gone before she can take it, feel it, bear down on it. Rupert, you bastard, you fucking bastard. He chuckles, and Willow realizes she's gasping the words aloud. The vibe is teasing her thighs, her pussy lips, the plug.

When she relaxes under his touch, sated for the moment, Rupert lays aside the vibe--and bends down and licks her clit, twice, three times, provoking her to a squeal of orgasm. "You bast--" and his mouth smothers her outright, smelling and tasting of *her*. Mm, yes.

"Are you ready now?" he asks, his breath on her cheek.

"Uh-huh."

(Continued in further comment.)
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From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-05 11:44 am (UTC)

(Link)

Buffy/Giles, magic weed, ice cream, Buffy tied down with scarfs
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-05 11:54 am (UTC)

(Link)

Buffy/Giles, angsty & angry sex.
Instead of leaving, Giles decided to stay in Tabula Rasa. They start a destructive relationship.
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-05 03:18 pm (UTC)

(Link)


Buffy/Willow, bubble bath
From: (Anonymous)
2009-01-03 01:59 am (UTC)

(Link)

This, Willow thinks, is nice.

Okay, not just nice, but... nice.

Warm, wet, slippery skin and hot water and fluffy, sweet, fruit-and-cream bubbles and Buffy. Buffy, naked, panting, beautiful, and expectant, her body atop, between, around Willow's and her hands slipping over Willow's body, bubbles and warm water and eagerness and... Buffy.

So, yeah. Nice.

It had taken two glasses of wine and countless kisses to convince her that this whole sex in the bathtub thing would work out, but now that she's slightly drunk and more than slightly aroused, things are definitely working.

Buffy kisses her cheek, then the corner of her mouth, and draws back with a smile. "See? It's fun. You were all worried about the splashing and small spaces. But... that's what makes it fun." Her voice low and her lips curving into another smile, Buffy slips one hand down over Willow's side to stroke her hip.

"I didn't think it would be not fun, just... Different. Not bed-sex. We always have bed-sex, and.. Oh. Oh, Buffy..." Willow can only gasp when her body rises to meet the touch and gasps again when Buffy draws back a little more, just enough that their breasts barely brush against each other.

Bubbles cling to Buffy's shoulders and collarbone, her hair to the side of her neck. Willow reaches up to gently push a few strands of hair from Buffy's skin. She pets Buffy gently, one fingertip touching Buffy's earlobe, the point of her shoulder, the soft skin at the swell of her breast and the taut, sensitive skin of her nipple, where she pets extra-gently, extra-teasingly, in that way she knows Buffy loves.

Buffy shudders, laughs and Willow can only lean up closer to kiss her, damp lips against damp skin, and can't help but laugh, too, when she tugs Buffy back in close and water splashes over the rim of the bathtub.

It's still slippery and awkward and the space really is too small, but the sex is nice and fun and Buffy keeps touching Willow, keeps tickling her sides and kissing her when Willow tries to twitch away from the touch. She gives a small, breathy 'oh!' of delight at the press of Willow's thigh between hers, parting them as much as she can to let herself rub against Willow.

There isn't room enough between them to slip hands between bodies, so Willow just holds Buffy closer, runs her fingers up and down Buffy's spine, cups one hand over the curve of her ass, and waits for Buffy to make another small, sweet sound of pleasure.

And this, this is so nice, to be shivering and wet, wet and needy, just at that very edge, just about to come, but not quite, so the moment is incredibly stretched out, hot water and slick hands and tangled limbs and that one, wonderful, trembling moment. There's water everywhere by the time they've moved apart and twisted together and pressed fingers into each other, puddles on the bathroom floor, footprints that lead toward the bedroom, and damp sheets, heavy with the scent of fruit-and-cream and girlmusk.
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From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-05 06:12 pm (UTC)

(Link)

Giles/Ethan, 'bound and beaten', oral.
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-20 12:06 am (UTC)

(Link)

"Took you long enough," Ethan said, drawling it out through swollen lips.

Giles ignored him to bend over the one soldier still conscious. He extracted the rubber hose from the youth's hands and tutted. And kicked him in the groin, without changing expression in the least. The soldier groaned in a most satisfying way. Giles kicked him again and it went up an octave in pitch. Ethan shifted himself as best he could in the low chair, spreading his thighs to ease the cramps. Ripper knew the way to his heart. Assuming Ripper wouldn't turn it on Ethan next. He'd been provoked, rather.

Giles knelt on the floor and did something Ethan couldn't see. The boy writhing on the floor went silent. Giles stood up and dropped the rubber hose.

"Did you kill him?"

"No."

"Pity."

"You got off on that," Giles said. A bare statement of fact.

Ethan shrugged with some difficulty. He hadn't, in fact, not until Giles had shown up, lead pipe in hand and in that state of cold rage that so exhilarated the both of them. Then, of course, it had been pure pleasure, watching Ripper dismantle four armed men before they could get off a single shot. It would have been most erotic in other circumstances.

The bulge in his trousers meant Giles had got off on it too. The leopard might abandon his nickname, but he could not change his spots. Ethan let his gaze linger on Giles's stiff prick, as obviously as he could. He smiled with the half of his face that wasn't swollen.

"Certain you didn't kill him, Ripper?" he said.

Giles made no answer but took out his clasp knife. He stepped closer to Ethan and held the curved edge rather too close to his throat. Ethan closed his eyes and parted his lips. The ropes holding him to the chair fell away. Ethan waited, but Giles made no move to cut the ropes around his wrists.

"I have a score to settle with you," Giles said, from close behind him.

Ethan opened his eyes. "Oh?"

"One best settled with you on your knees."

Ethan licked his lips, though it hurt to do so. "I should be delighted. Do untie my hands."

Giles snorted. "I think not."

"You always did prefer me bound and beaten."

But the flat of the knife slid along his arm and the ropes cutting into his wrists were gone. Ripper's arms around him, lifting him up and slinging him over a shoulder, were almost tender. Though Ethan knew better than to say so aloud.
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From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-05 06:39 pm (UTC)

(Link)

Giles/Willow---spiked heels, feathers, chocolate syrup, anal
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-05 06:55 pm (UTC)

(Link)

Fred/Lilah, shaving, cunnilingus
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-05 10:25 pm (UTC)

(Link)

Giles/Buffy, making up (with or without sex)
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-19 04:44 am (UTC)

(Answer, part 1)

(Link)

Buffy storms into the library at 9:15 PM. Giles is sure she would have slammed the door if it weren't the swinging un-slammable variety. She's wearing trainers, overalls, and a short-sleeved yellow T-shirt, not one of her perky and oh-so-distracting miniskirts, but his heart still lifts and constricts when he sees her. As always.

He loves that shirt. It shows a delicious scoop of cleavage, and it's so tight he suspects she needn't wear a bra beneath it. He's seen her nipples stand out through the fabric in a cool breeze, every tiny ridge visible, fantastically distracting...

But this isn't the moment, or the week, to think about that. The last few days have been atrocious. This is in fact the first time he's seen her today, and she's glaring.

Small wonder.

Yesterday she turned 18, and Giles got sacked. From his true career, anyway; his position as her Watcher. He's still the school librarian, for what that's worth, so he's still here. Among the books. Moping.

"Buffy. Erm, how are you feeling?"

"Look, I'm sorry," she nearly shouts. "I am sorry you got fired for defending me, but it was your own stupid fault!"

"Pardon?"

"I trusted you. You should have trusted me, too. You should have told me! About the Council, their lame test, everything. We could have done something. We could have, I don't know, faked it for them."

Giles removes his glasses. With them on he can see the anger in her face too clearly; it hurts his eyes and arouses his resentment. "It wouldn't have worked. Can we please sit down and discuss this calmly?"

Buffy smacks a library table with her palm. The legs creak and shudder under the wrath of the Slayer. "You got fired! This ruins everything for me!"

"For you? Yes, it also ruins a few things for me."

"You were supposed to be there always."

"I told you, I'm not going anywhere."

"But some other jerk is going to be here now. Getting in the way." She sounds close to tears--the dangerous, furious tears of hers that both move and alarm him so much. "It was supposed to be you, to the end."

Her words start to sink in. He advances a step and puts his glasses back on, wanting further clarity now. "Supposed to be me?"

"It was you I was willing to die for, or die near, or next to, or in the arms of." A tear spills out of each of her green eyes. She doesn't wipe them away; she keeps her fists clenched at her sides. "No one else. Definitely not some other freak."

His heart pounds. "Buffy."

"Yeah, I know. You have 'a father's love' for me; that's swell. It's fine. I'm used to disastrously mismatched relationships. But at least I thought we'd have this relationship my whole short life. And you screwed it up when you betrayed me and didn't tell me what I needed to know. And now someone else is going to get forced on me!"

He steps closer still. He could touch her, feel the straps of those overalls trembling on her shoulders, if he dared to reach out. "I did. I did tell you. I couldn't betray you anymore. And Buffy, he was wrong. About the father's love, I mean."

Her face goes blank with surprise.

Giles laughs dryly. "Oh, I tried to view you that way, believe me. But I can't deny feeling a shameful relief when you turned eighteen. 'Well,' I thought, 'at least now if I slip up and touch her, I'll only get a broken jaw and not a prison sentence.'"

Her mouth falls open. Giles turns away. Good Lord, what has he said? He clearly misinterpreted her words. She only meant he was her favorite friend to have along in a battle, or something like that...

The Slayer spins him around as easily as if he were made of straw, and ensnares him in a kiss.
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From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-06 12:54 am (UTC)

(Link)

Xander/Larry, in the locker room
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-06 12:55 am (UTC)

(Link)

Anya/Xander, "We've enjoyed spanking"
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-06 12:56 am (UTC)

(Link)

Buffy/Cordelia, first season, bitchy enemy fem-slash
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-06 12:57 am (UTC)

(Link)

Riley/Xander, there are no heterosexuals in foxholes
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-06 12:58 am (UTC)

(Link)

Cordelia/Harmony, Harmony wants to vamp and/or seduce Cordy
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-06 01:08 am (UTC)

(Link)

Request - A story where Xander gets a girl pregnant. On purpose. Any rating's fine; I'll take smut about the conception, I'll take fluffy conversation about baby names. I'm not particular about who the girl is, so long as she's a willing participant (though bonus points if it's Dawn!)

Oh, and I'm talking real pregnancy only here. No mpreg. Sorry, that's just not what I'm looking for.
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-06 01:34 am (UTC)

(Link)

Willow/Xander, ecstatic anal. Pref high school but later's okay too.
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-06 01:58 am (UTC)

(Link)

Willow/Faith, nude beach.
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-06 02:00 am (UTC)

(Link)

Willow/Xander, spanking. Er, Xander spanking Willow, just to be clear.
From: (Anonymous)
2008-12-06 10:50 pm (UTC)

(Link)

Xander paces around Willow's bedroom, fishtank to door to window and back around. He's angry, maybe a little, but mostly his feelings are hurt. The worst, though, is that Willow can't let it go. She keeps poking at it, reminding him.

"Xander, I'm sorry. I'd make it up to you, but I don't know how."

Willow's lip is trembling and he can see she's on the verge of tears. He's got to do something.

"Let me punish you," he said.

"Wh-- what?"

"My little Willow needs a spanking."

He stops, right in front of her and says it again. A spanking. He's half-kidding, but Willow's pupils flare out huge and dark, and wow, the idea excites her. Knowing that makes him excited too and Xander breathes hard. He takes his courage in both hands and goes for it.

"Over my knee," he says. "Hard."

"I guess I deserve it," Willow says, looking him in the face, breathing as fast as he is.

"You do."

Xander sits down on Willow's bed. He's more excited than he's ever been in his life but he's so nervous he's almost not thinking about the possibility of sex. He has to spank Willow now. Spank her until she cries. Can he even do it?

She starts to climb onto the bed next to him. Xander stops her. All he's got to go on here is a letter to Penthouse, about a delivery guy who'd never thought it would happen to him, and he isn't going to admit that. But he's pretty sure that the woman has to be naked.

"You need to take your clothes off," he says. "I'm going to spank your bare ass."

Willow doesn't protest at all. She just starts unbuttoning her shirt. Her hands are shaking, Xander sees. He holds up his own hands. Yep. His too.

Willow's bra is green and lacy. He can see her nipples stiff underneath it. She turns away from him and lets the straps fall down her arms. Xander has eyes only for her ass, for her thong, for the way it disappears between her bare cheeks. It matches her bra, he thinks. He watches her hook her thumbs into the sides and push it down her legs, step out of it. Then she comes and stands right in front of him. She's hiding her tits behind crossed arms, but she slowly unwraps them and comes to rest in front of him bare. Letting him look at everything.

They've kissed, they've cuddled, they've dared a few lingering touches in secret places, but they've never seen each other. He's been carrying a condom in his wallet for weeks now, thinking they might soon, but they haven't. Until now. Willow is completely naked for him, for Xander, his first naked girl. Her eyes are downcast. For once she's not looking at him nervously, wondering if he likes what he sees, because of course he does. Xander loves what he sees. Small breasts, the nipples bigger than he'd thought. Xander's eyes drift down, to her navel, down her belly, to the patch of copper hair below it.

He wonders if he should tell her she's gorgeous, then decides not to.

"Over my knee now," he says, trying to make his voice sound growly and firm.

She kneels next to him on the bed and bends herself over his lap. Her ass is up high and those lovely tits rest against his thigh. He caresses her face with his left hand, rubs his thumb over her lips. She kisses his hand.

"Spread your legs," he says. He doesn't know why he whispers it.

She obeys him and parts her thighs wide and arches her back without being asked. She's amazing. His hard-on is poking against her side. Feels good, but he ignores it. He has to spank Willow now. He's not even sure he can do it. He lets his hand cup her butt. She's so slim. His hand covers one cheek. It's dark and tan against her skin. The sun has never seen Willow's ass. Nobody has, until him. Xander is Willow's first.

(continued in the next comment)
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