Writing the Spike - 1/1 - Spike/Buffy - Adult
Posted: Sun Jul 17, 2005 11:14 pm
Title: “Writing the Spike”
Author: femmenerd
Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Genre: drabble/one parter
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: All belongs to Joss and Mutant Enemy. Including Spike, but we can look, can’t we?
Summary: Spike. Buffy. A typewriter. Naughty words.
Author's Note: Only my second BtVS ficlet and my first where Spike actually SPEAKS, OMG.
“Spike, what are you doing? Lazing about, is what it looks like to me. It’s almost three. I thought you were going to come out patrolling with me?”
She had her hands on her hips, standing in the doorway, a slight bit of moonlight reflected on her skin. Her hair was down, a bit messy from the slaying she’d done on her way home, to <i>their</i> home (she still hadn’t quite gotten used to that idea). It had been run-of-the-mill slayage. A couple of young vampires, not in control of their own strength yet. Nothing that she needed his help with.
All the same, she was standing there, trying to look indignant, although it didn’t always work as well with him anymore. Oh well. Just another of the things that she’d had to give up, since she’d begun to trust him. But she’d gained so much…
“I’m writing me memoirs, Luv. Or trying to anyway. This bloody technological contraption of yours is a bit too sanitized for my taste. There’s no smell, not like with ink and paper.”
He was hunched over the computer at her desk, elbows leaning against the solid wood of the desk. The same moonlit that illuminated her skin was making his slicked-back, white hair glimmer and glow. God, he was beautiful.
“Been thinkin’, I have. An’ I realized what a bloody fascinating life – unlife, what have you - I’ve had. Lot of adventures, I been privy to. Dunno, figured I’d try my hand at it. See what comes out.”
At this, she stared, struck dumb for a moment. Even now, when she felt that she knew him so well, he still had the capacity to surprise her. No matter how close they got, there were still ways in which the gears in his head functioned that she would never entirely be able to fathom or predict. But as she looked at him then, she realized that that was a great part of why she loved him, wanted him. So much of it was still to do with the big, gaping mystery of him. Whatever it was that made him different from any other man – or vampire – she’d ever come across.
“I know what you’re thinking, Pet. Don’t need to hide it. ‘Twas a terrible poet, I was, back in the day. But I think things maybe are different now, yeah? Poor sod that I used to be hadn’t lived yet. Not really. A man can’t write if he’s got nothing to say, right? Well, me, now I got something to say. Lot o’ somethings.”
She strode across the room to stand beside him then. She could feel his presence palpably, despite the absence of heat from his body. And it wasn’t just because he was a vampire and she had her super duper Slayer senses. It was because he was <i>him.</i> He overwhelmed her senses, every minute of every day.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to go all literate and nerdy on me. Who knows, pretty soon I won’t be intellectual enough for you.” She said this with a teasing tone that was meant to cover the teensy weensy bit of fear that she had that he would leave her one day, now that she truly knew that she wanted him back, the way that he had always wanted her. Now that he knew it too.
“Aw, shut it, Luv. You know nothing could make me tire of you so don’t go prattling on in that ridiculous fashion. Christ, if you were going to push me away…”
She didn’t want him to say it, to remind her of how she’d treated him before. So instead she leaned down to kiss him, hoping it would shut him up. And it did for a moment, as their lips met and tongues clashed deliciously. Just as she was really getting into it, beginning to lost track of herself in his kisses, he surprised her by grabbing her and pulling her down to him.
“That’s right, Pet. Sit on old Spikey’s lap. You’re my good girl. My sweet, naughty, ornery girl. Can’t hide it anymore, can you?” He clapped his hand on her ass for good measure, grinning as the sharp thud resounded through the cool air of the apartment.
Then he did the thing, the thing that drove her the most crazy. Rained small, soft, half openmouthed kisses up her neck, lingering at the space just beneath her ear. Buffy sucked in her breath with a sharp hiss.
“Alright then, Slayer. Let’s have ourselves a nice fuck an’ then I’ll come out and dust some vamps with you. Scout’s honor.” Despite his lack of breath, she shivered as his words hit her ear drum.
“Could smell you as soon as you walked into the room. Lovely, pretty cunny scent wafting in with the breeze. Mmmmm…..it’s even better now that you’re near. S’enough to make a chap bust right through his shorts. Well, if he was wearin’ any.”
Spike pulled away from her with a grin. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but before she could he stood up quickly, hoisting her in her arms as if she were a feather instead of a full grown woman.
“Come on now, sweetness. You know you’re always more on your game if you’ve been seen to properly. Clears the head, it does. A good rogering.”
Buffy rolled her eyes as he approached their bed and unceremoniously dropped her onto it.
As soon as her back hit the mattress, she was up and active, pulling hastily at the waistband of his jeans, unzipping him as though it were a race. Sure enough. No underwear. Just a mouth-watering cock that bounced up hard and ready for her. Despite the fact that she’d seen it lots of times before, her eyes opened wide as she took him in her eager hands.
“That’s right, Luv. It’s all for you. Gonna fuck you with it till you scream your pretty head off. An’ when I’m finished, gonna lap up the juices from your honey pot ‘til you cry out for more. Then…we can go and kill some baddies.”
He cocked his head to the side and surveyed her as she worked his cock with her fingers. Despite the seemingly crude tenor of his language, there was an underlying tenderness to his tone. That’s just how Spike was. Hard and soft. Lusty and tender. Violent and loving. The list of contradictions could go on almost indefinitely.
She pulled him down to her with as much Slayer force as she could without hurting him. Grabbed his cock once again and guided him in between her legs. She pulled her panties to one side and tilted her head back as she felt him slide inside of her.
“Unh,” he grunted, at a temporary loss of words, and quickly began to thrust and figure eight with his hips, finding a groove quickly. She lifted her knees up to clutch his flanks, gaining a better angle so he’d hit the good spot deep inside.
“Yessssss,” he hissed as she scraped her nails down his back, scoring his pale flesh. “You’ve the prettiest, tastiest cunny in the world, Slayer. Could drown in it and still come back for more.”
Her breath hitched as she stared up at him while he pushed and prodded at her with his cock, spouting off at the mouth all the while. He <i>did</i> have a way with words, she found herself thinking, smirking slightly on the inside as she did. Maybe this memoir thingy he’d been talking about would turn out, well, interesting.
Then her idle thoughts were blasted out of her as he began to work her clit with his practiced fingers, all thoughts of anything evaporated as she came hard like she always did with him after he worked her into such an easy frenzy with words and cock and deep, dark reservoir of love.
*****
The next evening she came home and found him sitting at the table, drinking tea and smoking. As he twirled the filter absentmindedly with his fingers, he somehow managed to make sipping Earl Grey manly. Although really, it was more that he seemed to make his every gesture and habit somehow seem seeped with a strength that transcended gender lines. Her Spike didn’t need to be boxed in by anyone’s set of rules. Tough ass nancy boy that he was. Didn’t give a Fuck. Except of course, when he did, about her or Dawn or the mission.
Buffy strode over to his side and plopped her heavy cargo in front of him.
“Oi, what’s this?” he said with surprise.
“It’s a typewriter. Found it second hand. There’s paper there in the box too, and extra ink if you need it.” She walked towards the kitchen like it was nothing, this gift of hers. But he pounced on her and covered her with kisses.
“Just tell me one thing. This thing that you’re writing – will I be in it?” she asked when he finally let her up for air.
He laughed and spun her around like they were dancing. “Silly question, that is. Don’t be coy with me. Fishing like that. ‘Course you are. A starring role for the lil’ blonde Slayer that tamed old William the Bloody. Well, mostly tamed…”
At that, he grinned and twitched his eyebrow, the left one with the scar. Then he patted her nicely on the rump and settled back at the table to play with his new toy.
Author: femmenerd
Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Genre: drabble/one parter
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: All belongs to Joss and Mutant Enemy. Including Spike, but we can look, can’t we?
Summary: Spike. Buffy. A typewriter. Naughty words.
Author's Note: Only my second BtVS ficlet and my first where Spike actually SPEAKS, OMG.
“Spike, what are you doing? Lazing about, is what it looks like to me. It’s almost three. I thought you were going to come out patrolling with me?”
She had her hands on her hips, standing in the doorway, a slight bit of moonlight reflected on her skin. Her hair was down, a bit messy from the slaying she’d done on her way home, to <i>their</i> home (she still hadn’t quite gotten used to that idea). It had been run-of-the-mill slayage. A couple of young vampires, not in control of their own strength yet. Nothing that she needed his help with.
All the same, she was standing there, trying to look indignant, although it didn’t always work as well with him anymore. Oh well. Just another of the things that she’d had to give up, since she’d begun to trust him. But she’d gained so much…
“I’m writing me memoirs, Luv. Or trying to anyway. This bloody technological contraption of yours is a bit too sanitized for my taste. There’s no smell, not like with ink and paper.”
He was hunched over the computer at her desk, elbows leaning against the solid wood of the desk. The same moonlit that illuminated her skin was making his slicked-back, white hair glimmer and glow. God, he was beautiful.
“Been thinkin’, I have. An’ I realized what a bloody fascinating life – unlife, what have you - I’ve had. Lot of adventures, I been privy to. Dunno, figured I’d try my hand at it. See what comes out.”
At this, she stared, struck dumb for a moment. Even now, when she felt that she knew him so well, he still had the capacity to surprise her. No matter how close they got, there were still ways in which the gears in his head functioned that she would never entirely be able to fathom or predict. But as she looked at him then, she realized that that was a great part of why she loved him, wanted him. So much of it was still to do with the big, gaping mystery of him. Whatever it was that made him different from any other man – or vampire – she’d ever come across.
“I know what you’re thinking, Pet. Don’t need to hide it. ‘Twas a terrible poet, I was, back in the day. But I think things maybe are different now, yeah? Poor sod that I used to be hadn’t lived yet. Not really. A man can’t write if he’s got nothing to say, right? Well, me, now I got something to say. Lot o’ somethings.”
She strode across the room to stand beside him then. She could feel his presence palpably, despite the absence of heat from his body. And it wasn’t just because he was a vampire and she had her super duper Slayer senses. It was because he was <i>him.</i> He overwhelmed her senses, every minute of every day.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to go all literate and nerdy on me. Who knows, pretty soon I won’t be intellectual enough for you.” She said this with a teasing tone that was meant to cover the teensy weensy bit of fear that she had that he would leave her one day, now that she truly knew that she wanted him back, the way that he had always wanted her. Now that he knew it too.
“Aw, shut it, Luv. You know nothing could make me tire of you so don’t go prattling on in that ridiculous fashion. Christ, if you were going to push me away…”
She didn’t want him to say it, to remind her of how she’d treated him before. So instead she leaned down to kiss him, hoping it would shut him up. And it did for a moment, as their lips met and tongues clashed deliciously. Just as she was really getting into it, beginning to lost track of herself in his kisses, he surprised her by grabbing her and pulling her down to him.
“That’s right, Pet. Sit on old Spikey’s lap. You’re my good girl. My sweet, naughty, ornery girl. Can’t hide it anymore, can you?” He clapped his hand on her ass for good measure, grinning as the sharp thud resounded through the cool air of the apartment.
Then he did the thing, the thing that drove her the most crazy. Rained small, soft, half openmouthed kisses up her neck, lingering at the space just beneath her ear. Buffy sucked in her breath with a sharp hiss.
“Alright then, Slayer. Let’s have ourselves a nice fuck an’ then I’ll come out and dust some vamps with you. Scout’s honor.” Despite his lack of breath, she shivered as his words hit her ear drum.
“Could smell you as soon as you walked into the room. Lovely, pretty cunny scent wafting in with the breeze. Mmmmm…..it’s even better now that you’re near. S’enough to make a chap bust right through his shorts. Well, if he was wearin’ any.”
Spike pulled away from her with a grin. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but before she could he stood up quickly, hoisting her in her arms as if she were a feather instead of a full grown woman.
“Come on now, sweetness. You know you’re always more on your game if you’ve been seen to properly. Clears the head, it does. A good rogering.”
Buffy rolled her eyes as he approached their bed and unceremoniously dropped her onto it.
As soon as her back hit the mattress, she was up and active, pulling hastily at the waistband of his jeans, unzipping him as though it were a race. Sure enough. No underwear. Just a mouth-watering cock that bounced up hard and ready for her. Despite the fact that she’d seen it lots of times before, her eyes opened wide as she took him in her eager hands.
“That’s right, Luv. It’s all for you. Gonna fuck you with it till you scream your pretty head off. An’ when I’m finished, gonna lap up the juices from your honey pot ‘til you cry out for more. Then…we can go and kill some baddies.”
He cocked his head to the side and surveyed her as she worked his cock with her fingers. Despite the seemingly crude tenor of his language, there was an underlying tenderness to his tone. That’s just how Spike was. Hard and soft. Lusty and tender. Violent and loving. The list of contradictions could go on almost indefinitely.
She pulled him down to her with as much Slayer force as she could without hurting him. Grabbed his cock once again and guided him in between her legs. She pulled her panties to one side and tilted her head back as she felt him slide inside of her.
“Unh,” he grunted, at a temporary loss of words, and quickly began to thrust and figure eight with his hips, finding a groove quickly. She lifted her knees up to clutch his flanks, gaining a better angle so he’d hit the good spot deep inside.
“Yessssss,” he hissed as she scraped her nails down his back, scoring his pale flesh. “You’ve the prettiest, tastiest cunny in the world, Slayer. Could drown in it and still come back for more.”
Her breath hitched as she stared up at him while he pushed and prodded at her with his cock, spouting off at the mouth all the while. He <i>did</i> have a way with words, she found herself thinking, smirking slightly on the inside as she did. Maybe this memoir thingy he’d been talking about would turn out, well, interesting.
Then her idle thoughts were blasted out of her as he began to work her clit with his practiced fingers, all thoughts of anything evaporated as she came hard like she always did with him after he worked her into such an easy frenzy with words and cock and deep, dark reservoir of love.
*****
The next evening she came home and found him sitting at the table, drinking tea and smoking. As he twirled the filter absentmindedly with his fingers, he somehow managed to make sipping Earl Grey manly. Although really, it was more that he seemed to make his every gesture and habit somehow seem seeped with a strength that transcended gender lines. Her Spike didn’t need to be boxed in by anyone’s set of rules. Tough ass nancy boy that he was. Didn’t give a Fuck. Except of course, when he did, about her or Dawn or the mission.
Buffy strode over to his side and plopped her heavy cargo in front of him.
“Oi, what’s this?” he said with surprise.
“It’s a typewriter. Found it second hand. There’s paper there in the box too, and extra ink if you need it.” She walked towards the kitchen like it was nothing, this gift of hers. But he pounced on her and covered her with kisses.
“Just tell me one thing. This thing that you’re writing – will I be in it?” she asked when he finally let her up for air.
He laughed and spun her around like they were dancing. “Silly question, that is. Don’t be coy with me. Fishing like that. ‘Course you are. A starring role for the lil’ blonde Slayer that tamed old William the Bloody. Well, mostly tamed…”
At that, he grinned and twitched his eyebrow, the left one with the scar. Then he patted her nicely on the rump and settled back at the table to play with his new toy.
You did a great job with his dialogue... I could actually hear Spike saying all that in my head. This was steamy and sweet all in one. Awesome work. :D
Great job! 
: I agree with alienmom!