SUMMARY: Zaphod, Ford, alcohol, and table dancing.
NOTE FROM 2009: Ford in this fic is clearly (to me) played by Mos Def, which is interesting because when I wrote it I thought it was bookverse.

( Read more... )

The street is deserted, but you can feel the prickle of eyes on the back of your neck. It’s past three in the morning; you breathe dew instead of air. A slight breeze stirs the velvet drapes that serve as doors as you pass them. Darkness drips from the eves of buildings like moisture from the roof of a cave, leaving long stalagtites of shadow in its wake. The tramp of your boots echoes on the worn cobblestones, rude and out of place, and the fog rushes out and swirls around your feet to muffle them into quietness.

You must be quiet.

The breeze tugs at your sleeve impatiently, motioning you forward. You are at the door; the door you passed without seeing yesterday and many days before. Until a stranger met you at your club, and bought you drinks, and trickled red-tinged dreams of glory into your ear. Lastly, he whispered the name of this place. Where to come, when.

The door opens at your touch. A pale, featureless mask floats in the darkness behind it.

“Ah, you’re right on time.” The masked voice smiles. “Come in.”

The night reaches out a tendril, and pulls you into its heart.

SUMMARY: Rumours are flying. Set around Season Five, but disregards all canon past Season Four (except for the bits I like).

( “Hey, do you guys remember Buffy Summers?” )

SUMMARY: Auron and Braska enjoy a little time to themselves.

( Jecht had gone on ahead... )

Medically speaking, it was advantageous for a man of Jack’s weight and height to have his upper back routinely massaged. That was the excuse the first time; they scarcely needed one anymore. Stephen swept his long, slim fingers across the bared skin, stroking gently over the shoulders and applying expert pressure to the bulky muscles of the upper arm. Jack’s breath came in spurts; the noises he made in the back of his throat were highly gratifying.

Stephen smiled as he worked. He knew well the power and the gentleness of Jack’s overlarge hands. And it was his turn next.

SUMMARY: Five things that never happened to Nightmare.
WARNINGS: Implied underage, implied incest, implied noncon.

( Read more... )

“Hey hey! I don't use lard just for tea!" Palmer grinned, winking suggestively at Heidegger.

Heidegger blanched.

“No?” He tried his level best to sound nonchalant. “Perhaps you use it in sandwiches as well?”

“Well, yes,” Palmer admitted. Then, with what could only be described as a leer, he leaned closer. “But I can also think of more... creative things to do with it. I think you know what I mean.”

Heidegger was horribly afraid that he did. He was about to make any excuse he could and get the hell out of there, when he saw Scarlet hanging about, trying to catch his eye. She was wearing her cleavage dress, and that always meant trouble.

With a sigh, he did the only thing he thought might possibly put her off. He kissed Palmer.

When they broke the kiss, he watched Scarlet’s hastily retreating back, and listened to her screams, with a certain amount of satisfaction. What the hell, he thought, resignedly. Maybe I can get him to reconsider the lard.

WARNINGS: Dubcon.

~

"What the hell are you doing?" yelled Griffin, disentangling himself from Demian's arms.

The beginnings of Demian's apology for who knows what imagined offence were quickly cut off by Griffin's reassurances. He glared up at me, attempting to preserve what remained of his dignity by means of a bedsheet.

“Honestly! Surely you’ve learned by now that when we lock doors around here, it’s for a reason.”

“Griffin,” I drawled, happy to have the upper hand over the supercillious bastard for a change, “surely you’ve learned by this point that it takes more than a locked door to thwart the Master’s will.”

He drew his arms up, protectively.

“I have not disobeyed him.”

“Oh, but you have. I was entrusted with teaching this one about his new body. That means that what you were doing” - I crossed the floor to stand directly in front of him – “is my task.”

I captured Demian’s chin in my hand, looking deep into his wide-opened eyes.

“And I intend to see it through.”

I pressed those parted lips with a kiss, and Griffin could only watch me do it.

SUMMARY: Temptation comes in many forms. Some BDSM content.

( His arms are outspread, straining. )