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This story is No. 4 in the series "The "names out of a hat sexual partners" series". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Buffy dishes about fantasies. Femslash

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > Buffy-CenteredJinxyFR181909011,82425 Mar 0825 Mar 08Yes
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author notes: Another of the name in the hat lover challenges. I pick a Buffy character, put 20 characters in a hat, and draw out five names for the character to have had a sexual relationship with, whether in fantasy, reality, or wish. Main person is Buffy this time, the lovers I drew were, in order, Faith, Stephen King, Darla, Death, and Willow.

Most people, when they think of Buffy Summers, would probably think I’m a pretty conventional kind of girl as far as my relationships go. Well, okay, maybe it’s not exactly conventional to sleep with a dead guy. Okay, two dead guys. But other than that, my relationships have been pretty straight and narrow. Whatever that means. But they were straight. All of them.

My fantasies, on the other hand… I’m pretty sure they’d make some jaws drop. And probably people would laugh. Really hard. Or else be scared. Which is why I would never, ever tell them to anyone. Ever.

Okay, so I’m telling you. But other than that, nope, no one, never.

Faith was always ragging me on me for being so uptight, talking about how I just denied my horny side, that I needed to ‘find the fun’. Oh, I found the fun in the privacy of my own head- with her. Yeah, I know, give me those looks of disbelief. Miss Gives- the-disapproving-looks-to-Faith’s-sexual-innuendo Buffy, fantasizing about making out with her, among other things? I know, I’m a hypocrite. But what was I supposed to do, grab her every time she gave me that incredibly wicked, sexy dimpled smile, and shove my tongue down her throat? I would have been so dead. Probably literally. Or even worse… what if she’d went with it and kissed me back?

Couldn’t do it. No way, no how- it was that simple. I was with Angel, and I couldn’t risk that just because of a few crazy daydreams about me, Faith, and baby oil. No way. Nope. Plus there was the fact that I wasn’t gay. I’m still not gay. Not that just

being gay is bad, my best friend is gay- but I’m not. Come on, everyone has had fantasies about Faith! How could you help it, the girl is like, Miss I-turn-straight-girls-into-fervently-questioning-girls or something. Right?

Please tell me I’m right.

Moving on now, definitely moving on now. This fantasy, it’s just a tad more acceptable, but still a little ooky. I mean, the guy is about forty years older than me, and not exactly a babe, but he is a complete genius. And at least he’s the right gender. Plus, if you read his stuff (which, even as Cordy-esque as I was before becoming the Chosen One, I did, until enough monsters were in my life that I was no longer freaked by fictional ones) you see that the guy can’t be took freaked out by the existence of vampires and other ugly evil things. He writes about them so much it kinda makes me suspect he’s seen them- which would be ideal for a relationship partner for me.

Okay, so I’ll stop with the mysterious pronouns and tell you already. Stephen King. I know, I know, make weirded-out faces. But some girl out there with superpowers knows what I’m talking about… even if it’s just Faith.

If you think Faith and Stephen King were bad, the next two will really make you squirm. The first one… Darla. Okay, not so much because I want to have sex with Darla the person, or vampire, or whatever. Even though I have to admit that she’s a very attractive woman. Vampire. Whatever. Like I said, it’s not that I really want to be with her, I just want to be with her. Kind of to see what kind of competition I am in comparison to her among Angel’s lovers. It’s more of a me thing than a I-have-a-thing-for-Darla thing. Do you know what I mean?

Probably not. Damn… oh well.

And then there’s Death. I know, I know- Death, that’s so morbid and gross, etc etc. Would it help any if I said Death in Brad Pitt’s body, like in Meet Joe Black? I know that was just a movie, but if Death could take someone’s body, why not Brad Pitt’s?

It’s just a fantasy, after all. And as far as the ick factor goes, I’ve slept with dead people before. Sleeping with Death itself- now that would be different.

My last fantasy… god, I squirm just saying it. Willow. I mean, how can you help it? Someone’s your best friend for seven years- someone who decides four years into it that she likes girls- how can you not occasionally wonder what it would be like to kiss her? You share a bed with her so many times, how can you not wonder what it would be like to use it for more than sleeping?

And she’s just so adorable. And she can be sexy too- that one Halloween…

God, please tell me I’m not the only one who does this. Everyone else has sick, twisted fantasies like this too, and they just keep it all nicely locked away in their heads where it belongs. Right?

I’ll just pretend I heard a chorus of voices saying ‘right’ back to me. The alternative reply is too disturbing to think about.

The End

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