Fantasyland

By Sweetprincipale

Willow and Tara are just trying to mend fences when they buy a half dozen cookies from the Sisters of Gaia Blessed Be Bakesale. Little do they know that one wicca among them has actually done some reading and her "Cookies of Your Dreams" might actually make your dreams come true. Set in Season Four, with some events tweaked, nudged, or slightly out of order. (Because this is going to be more fun.) Written for the Artistic April Challenge Month. Banner #77 designed by AlloSpoike.

Part III

She knew it had to be a dream. Nothing could feel this consistently orgasmic and hot while also feeling so amazingly tender and loving. Because dirty fantasies, the kind where Spike made her scream in the good way were totally separate from the sexual experiences she'd shared with two (count 'em, two) people, both of whom she took to bed with a kind of intensity and desperation that left her senses reeling and her lady parts kind of so-so.

"Do I need to distract you again?" Spike nibbled his way down her naked body, stopping at her soaking pussy.

"Again? We haven't even…" Because he hadn't "done the deed." He hadn't put his beautifully made cock into her eager little tunnel. He'd kissed her and massaged her while they stripped each other down to nothing. He hooked her leg up over his hips as they stroked one another, lying face to face. Stroking turned to rutting his slick crown against her satiny abdomen while her fingers gently teased and curled around him, exploring. His fingers returned the favor, slipping over her clit and finding her soaking, hooking deep inside, working to a steady rhythm.

No one had ever done that before. She knew exactly what fingering was, but Angel hadn't done it and Parker hadn't done it. Both of them seemed eager to get to the part where they were inside her.

"Yep, again," Spike sighed and rolled his eyes in a martyred way. His smirk assured his queen that he didn't honestly mind. "Even in your dreams, you're thinking too hard. Distraction it is."

As her body started humming with electrical currents that went from her clit to her toes to the tight peaks of her nipples, Buffy found herself thinking anyway. All about the guy moaning as he made her moan.

Spike is so into me. So into this, at least. His tongue worked inside her, his fingers spreading her. She felt a momentary knot of tension in her stomach as she felt his hungry eyes on her pussy, but the feeling evaporated as he purred against her.

She felt him shift and turn which forced her eyes open long enough to watch him adjust his position so that he could stroke himself while feasting on her. "Is it… good for you, too?" Was that a lame question?

"This is the second best," he replied instantly, stopping for one second only before sucking her bead into his mouth.

She couldn't hold on for long if he kept that up.

So of course, he kept that up. His fingers slipped inside, thrusting pointedly as he worried her clit, also pointedly.

Spike is an effing sex god and he knows it. And now I know it. She wailed out a long, gasping cry as she spasmed around his fingers. Spike was crowing along with her— his mouth still full.

She was trembly and breathless as she reminded him, "You can stop now."

"Don't wanna. You're extra juicy now and you're so soft. Freshly fucked."

"We didn't—"

"The hell we didn't. Fingers are just the appetizer, but it's still part of the meal," he huffed.

Buffy decided this kind of feasting was okay in her books, even if she was squirmy and feeling like she wanted more than fingers this time. She pushed her hips down pointedly. "Wanted something a little bigger soon," she hinted.

"Of course, my love." He nuzzled in, lost in her. Some might see this as a service rendered, but not him. This was a gift. Woman had to trust you and love you to let herself lie back, let herself be all vulnerable and feed you her secrets. Just the thought of the Slayer's sweet pussy spilling her warm juice on his face was pushing him over the edge. He pumped himself harder. Dru, through no fault of her own, had never tasted this hot and wet, this warm and sweet. Spike groaned and gave in, not caring if he came all over the silk sheets while Buffy came all over his face. This was a dream, right? He'd yell, "Do over!" and be back to a full-on rager in seconds. Speaking of ragers… his girl sure was one. Her clit was so tight and high now. He could feel the stiffness of it between his lips, could feel her losing control, whimpering and tugging on her tits, rolling her nipples between her thumb and forefinger. Tugging.

Shit, she liked a bit of pressure. Meant to take it hard, but meant to be loved and cherished, too. Best of all— he wasn't too late to show her that she could have both. Angel hadn't worked his claws in too deeply yet.

And maybe the fact that he was doing things with Buffy that Angel hadn't done made him just a little extra high.

Buffy gasped as the tingling in her pussy turned more concrete. Prickles on her skin, outer and inner folds. Her eyes opened. Her mouth opened. Spike was tugging his cock without mercy while he delved into her. It must have… She didn't know. She didn't know why Spike would be wearing his lumpies and his fangs while moaning softly against her skin. "Are you okay?" she whispered. Her first instinct had been to yelp and pull away. But this was a dream, so even if he went ahead and bit her, it would be fine, right? She'd stake him.

Also, she had utter faith that he wouldn't bite her and she wouldn't stake him.

Spike blinked hazily, golden eyes shining. "Hmm? What, Pet?"

"You dropped something." She gestured to his face.

"Oh." The features reverted easily. "Felt so wonderful. Taste so good. Bet you'll feel even better."

Buffy nodded eagerly, sitting forward. "So… fangs aren't just hardware? They're mood rings, too?"

He chuckled. "Mine might be. I like violence. I also like pleasure. I also love you." He snuggled up to her contentedly, knowing that since her fantasy and his seemed to be merging, she was about to experiment on his cock, her sweet little virgin mouth slipping around him like a bloody expert. That was the Slayer for you. Looked innocent and fragile— could break you with a well-placed word. "You didn't scream at me for it," he realized.

"You sounded happy. I didn't think you would hurt me."

"Never would. Loyal to the crown, that's me." Hell. He'd said he loved her, too. Was that her fantasy or his?

Buffy scooted closer to the engorged cock, beads of juice dotting the slit of his crown. She's never been with a man long enough or close enough to see all these details.

Wait, if this is a dream… how do I get to see all the details? The way the hairs on his stomach are so fine and his muscles are so hard, but then there's dark, fine little hairs here… smooth here… Her hand wandered over him possessively, reveling in the moans she drew out of him. Her tongue flicked out and captured his crown, giggling internally with half-formed puns about a crown for a crown.

Juice for juice.

Pleasure for pleasure.

She was sliding her mouth on him easily in seconds, his hands in her hair, fingers gentle, breathing ragged. "So good. Thank you, Beautiful. You're so good to me. Give me so many gifts. Being with you like this…" he was babbling, rambling now.

"It's okay. I love you, too. It's okay." It's a dream. It's all okay. It's going to feel so much better if we love each other, right? If you never had to be afraid and never had to watch them leave you behind.

"No, you don't. But thanks for saying it," he whispered, heart suddenly stabbing him.

"This is my dream!" Buffy sat up, a spark in her eyes. "Don't tell me what I can or cannot do. If I… If I want to love you, so that we—" she swallowed hard, looking at those intense blue eyes and the jaw that was working too hard, "so that we don't just have sex, but we also get to really make love with someone…"

"Shhh. Shh, I was stupid. I forgot. Of course that's how we do it. That's how you and I do everything, nothing by halves. Been waiting to make love to my girl since the second I saw her."

Don'taskdon'taskdon'task. "Really?" Buffy whispered, hands on his shoulders as she slid her hips over top of his.

"Every move you made, I wanted you on me. Wanted to feel you move against me. Fight you. Own you. Love you. Feel you own me, too. Oh, God!" He ended his confession with a strangled cry as her sweet, wet pussy slid over his cock and she let herself push down, burying him completely inside.

"You got your wish. I own you. You're inside me now." This was power. This was pleasure.

Maybe there was something to love about it, too.

"I love it," he groaned. She rippled and bucked on him, and that was just to get comfortable. As she leaned forward and his hips bucked up of their own accord, she moaned. "Is my queen satisfied?" he chuckled softly.

"More than satisfied." How many times could a person cum before they had some sort of medical problem? Could you double that number for Slayers and Vamps? What about people in a dream?

Shit. She had to wake up eventually.

"Come."

"Not yet," Buffy shook her head.

"No. Come find me when you wake up? Please? Promise me?"

"I…"

"I'll come find you if not."

"Why?"

"This is too good to let go, Slayer. I don't walk away from good things. Well, not the good things like you."

"I walk away from bad things, though." Spike is bad. Waking World Spike is bad. Right?

He laughed and rolled her under him. "The hell you do. You charge at 'em, full tilt."

She swallowed.

"I'll find you. I promise."


"Um. I promise I didn't do any magic. None." Willow's voice was a shaky, timid squeak. Being a mouse would be good right now. She was in a field of white lilies and yellow sunflowers, miles away from anyone.

Which was great, since she was totally naked.

Floral scents wafted around her. The sun was perfectly warm and gentle on her back. What's more, the flowers were corralling her toward a perfectly blue lake that reflected the sky. A peach tree was growing by its edge, branches stretching way out over the water. It was beautiful, serene, and surreal.

Not real.

This is just a dream.

Willow knew what her dream was missing. Somewhere, by the nearest bed of white lilies, would be Tara. Tara in a long white gown, the gauzy, transparent robe kind of gown that enchanted maidens or fairies wore. She'd sit up on a woven blanket, poised to welcome her, or doing some spell.

But I should totally have clothes on. Why don't I have clothes on?

"Oh, Willow. Willow…"

Willow smothered a yelp as she heard breathless moans. Moans that were in Tara's voice, moans that were calling her name?

She walked closer to where a thicket of flowers acted as a natural shield. Peering through them, she saw…

The most beautiful, most erotic thing ever. Tara was there all right. No gown. No magic. Well, there was magic in the way she was swaying, writhing on her back, naked and glorious.

Moaning for me?

Her heart sped up. "Tara?"

Tara sat up with a guilty gasp, knees instantly tucking in tight to her chest, head hanging down, shielding herself with locked arms and dangling hair. "W-Willow! Wh-what are you doing here?"

That's what I want to know, thought Willow, but she decided to remain carefully hidden by the wall of flowers and say something else. "I heard you calling for me. So I came."

"I… I didn't expect you to come. It's just a dream. I know y-you and I are just friends," Tara hurriedly stammered, retreating further in on herself.

Tara hadn't meant for Willow to find her like this. In fact, she had just started to believe the events of her night had been a dream. Willow came over to her dorm with a book of really advanced spells, including one of transportation. Again, Tara was sure she couldn't do it, but Willow had been so confident, so proud of her, praising her skills and her courage (how Willow knew about her courage was a little confusing, but she loved it). Before Tara knew what was happening, she and Willow were all fused together, glowing brightly, hands clasped leaning forward as their words mingled in the few inches of space between them. Tara often closed her eyes when she cast spells, channeling her focus. This time, when she opened her eyes, she and Willow were suffused with a golden light, both from the spell and from the bright, perfect sun in a cloudless blue sky.

"Where are we?" Tara had murmured, frightened.

"Where we belong. Together." Willow's eyes took on a heated intensity Tara had never seen in another being before. Then the redhead's lips crashed down, claiming Tara's mouth, pulling moans out of her. Clothes were shed without hands aiding, simply melting away in the warm golden light and the dry, lily-scented heat.

Just as Willow fell to her side, looking up with hungry eyes, her hand extended— she vanished.

Because of course, it was all a dream.

Because of course, Willow wouldn't want to kiss her or touch her… make love with her. Loneliness and want swamped her, but her body had been so ready to respond to Willow's scorching kisses and curious hands. Left alone, she gave herself over to pleasure in the sun.

Then? Willow was back.


"I must be dreaming," Willow whispered. If this is a dream, then it's okay to explore. I mean, just because Tara is a lesbian, doesn't mean she likes just any old woman. Or young woman. I mean, anyone who is a woman. Like me.

I'm also not exactly gay. Maybe kinda gay. Tara-gay? Is that a thing?

Tara raised her head to meet her eyes, her lips parted, her skin flushed, generous breasts pressed tightly to her knees, showing an ocean of creamy cleavage.

Yes. Tara-gay was absolutely a thing, an okay thing. "I thought we'd be in some enchanted place together," Willow whispered, pushing through the tall flowers. "A forest or a waterfall. Maybe a meadow."

"Y-you did?"

"Running toward one another. Clothes were on, though."

"Oh. I— I d-don't know how—"

"I like this version way better," Willow blurted.

"You do?"

Willow bit her lip. It would be too terrifying to admit this to Tara in the waking world, but now she whispered, "It's my dream, right? You don't feel this way about me for real, but I can't stop thinking about us. About kissing you. About more. I've never… I know I'm not…" How to explain? Why bother to explain?

Because I'm dying to say it, to ask it. "I don't know if you could ever like me like that?" she breathed out, waiting for the words she knew would come. Oh, I do, Willow. Of course, I do.

"M-me? B-but you're not gay. I m-mean, I thought with Oz… And Xander! You had a crush on him once, so…" Tara's head jerked up.

Willow squinted in the brilliant sunlight. Okay, so her sleeping brain didn't take directions. Try rebooting. Repeat the sequence.

"You didn't answer my question," Willow swallowed. "Do you think you could ever like me like that?"

"Obviously!" Tara laughed, a slightly hysterical sound. The Willow of her dreams didn't force her to confront her feelings like this, she was just magically there, enveloping her, melding together.

"You can?" Willow sank down and pushed through the disproportionately tall flowers ringing her new best friend— her new something more. "Can I come into the circle with you?"

"Sure." Tara kept herself concealed as best she could and scooted over, her bare bottom on some gauzy white linen on top of warm, sandy earth.

Willow felt hesitancy turning more and more to curiosity and lust as she watched Tara's form move, breasts bubbling over carefully placed arms, long legs and graceful calves. She wanted to touch and explore every curve of that beautiful body. She hoped her own slender figure was appealing. Who knew Tara's type, for real?

"You're so beautiful," Tara smiled a half-grin, her lip shyly bitten as Willow settled next to her on the ground.

"I am?" Willow looked stunned.

Tara found stunned Willow extra adorable. She just had to wait for her dream to settle back into the peaceful pattern of Willow's hands on her, Willow's magic in her. What had caused the interruption, anyway?

Nothing happened.

"Hm," Tara made a puzzled noise.

Willow found puzzled Tara exceedingly cute. "What's wrong?"

"In my dream, we were doing magic and you were on top of me and in me and it felt amazing and then it kinda stopped and reset, but you're still here so… I'm wondering what's wrong. This wasn't part of my dream. The stopping."

Willow's eyes widened. "Your dream? This is my dream!"

"Nu-uh!" Tara was startled into bursting out. "I was dreaming about you coming toward me through a field of lilies and see? Here you are!"

"Yeah, but my dream had you and me doing naughty experimenting things that I would never in a billion years be brave enough to ask you because you're my best friend and I don't want to lose you! Here you, all gorgeous and not—not wearing anything, so… This is my dream." A field of flowers was meadow-like enough, right?

Tara blinked.

Willow's mouth stilled, then swung open slightly. "Oh."

"Oh. Y-you were dreaming about us, too?" Tara licked her warm lips.

"Too?"

"What part of in me and on top of me did you not get?"

"Wow." Willow's head swam.

"Yeah. Wow."

Tara cautiously put her hand between them, palm down. Willow's hand came to rest atop it. "You won't lose me."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"What if I'm not good at this?"

"Then we can practice. And practice is fun." Tara's lit up with the shy sparkle of playfulness a very few got to see.

Willow had the sudden jarring sensation of missing the last step.

There is no way my brain can recreate that look so perfectly. The words. It's like she's here. Really here.

"Tara! Are we in a spell together? I think you're really here, like really in my dream, or I'm in yours… or something!"

"But… how? Why? Did you do a spell? I mean, I d-did a spell with you h-here, but it was a dream spell, right?" Tara stammered.

Willow swallowed. The romantic mood, tentative though it had been, was splintering. "I didn't do a spell. Are we the only ones in here?"

"I think so."

"You know how in a dream, you know it's a dream, and then you wake up?" Willow looked sideways at her friend.

"Mmhm." Tara felt regret stab her. She didn't want to wake up yet. She didn't want to leave this warm, safe space where Willow might have feelings for her. Would those feelings be different in the morning, cold awkwardness replacing everything they'd nurtured?

"I think we're safe enough."

"I guess."

Willow scooted closer. "M-maybe we don't have to wake up, yet? Not just yet?"

Tara nodded eagerly. "But we don't have to do anything! Not anything like— well." She cleared her throat nervously. "What we just said." Because in a dream, there were no consequences, but there might be consequences if the two dreamers knew one another and were acting together.

Willow's fingers slowly touched Tara's wrist, a light, tentative stroking that could have been merely reassuring, or could be something more. "You were dreaming about me? Calling for me?"

Tara's sunlight skin turned bright pink as she worked up the courage to flatly admit it. Willow already knew, right? There was no point in lying.

As Tara hesitated, Willow quickly blurted, "I know that just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I'm your type. I know that. Just because I have feelings for you and I was dreaming about being with you—"

"Right! Like, this is beyond a dream. This has real life, awake consequences."

Willow bit her lip. "What kind?"

"Once you're intimate with someone m-maybe it would be hard to s-stop wanting that again."

"Do we have to stop wanting it? I wasn't planning to. We could do it again? Awake?"

"Oh! Oh, yes. If you want to. I… I want to do what you want. Wh-what makes you happy," Tara whispered, head raising fully, her hand coming out to lightly touch Willow's bare shoulder.

"You make me happy. I'd wake up and run over to your room right now just to hug you. Or more than hug you." Willow scooted to her knees, her hands sliding gently to Tara's cheeks. "Okay? However you're happy, too."

Tara leaned forward, her lips connecting slowly with Willow's. The kiss was lingering, still soft but long and deep. When she pulled back, she smiled. "It'd be a shame to waste this perfect dream world, though. How often can two people have two first times?"

"Practically never," Willow lay on her side, tugging Tara with her.

Tara kissed her again, glowing like the sun.

"My goddess." Willow gasped.

Tara's eyes were suddenly dark with lust, something mystical about them as they drank in the sight of the naked, nubile form reaching for her. "My love."

"Ohhhh. Yes. Love." Willow moaned as Tara's pillowy perfection sank against her, soft and wet in places, firm and tight in others. Tara was a sensory feast, but a safe one. Any fear evaporated when they cocooned together, beginning to move as one, losing themselves in each other. They didn't really need the dreamscape, Willow realized. "My paradise."

Some dreams are more than just a nightly fantasy, Tara breathed out as Willow's hands raked her sides, as her fingers indented her tight cheeks and held her close. "My dream come true."

To be concluded…

Author's End Note: Sorry for the delay. I am back to my once a week posting! It was a busy few weeks. My new sweet, steamy paranormal romance novel officially released today! It's called Pale Girl by S.C. Principale and it's free on KU. Cheap if not! I would love it if you would check it out!