Fic: Everything a Big Bad Wolf Could Want
Title: Everything a Big Bad Wolf Could Want
Pairing/Character: Spike
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Pedophilia. Lemme bold that. Pedophilia. I'll not be coy. This is about Spike having pedophiliac urges. It's disturbing and it's graphic, and I feel dirty just having written it.
Word count: 1,241
Summary: Set in S7 after LMPTM, Spike thinks he has a handle on himself now that he has a soul. However, he gets a reminder that he still has a demon with dangerous and perverse urges...
Author's Note: This is a plot bunny I picked up in an offhand comment by flake_sake in her post about vampire sexuality. The basic premise being that Spike is "a veal kinda guy". How would this predilection conflict with his soul in S7? I took it on, and I think I've now gotten about as dark as I ever want to go in my writing.
Thanks for any and all feedback. There are notes for this story if you're interested.
He'd thought it would be simple. Get a soul. Fix himself. Get the girl.
He'd been bloody stupid, of course.
The soul had changed everything for Spike. The things he'd done before, felt, believed...all changed. All twisted. With staggering horror he realized what it meant to be the Big Bad. Not something to wear as a badge of honor. Something that filled him with revulsion.
The things he'd done...
That had been the first curse the soul had brought upon him. It gave him a full understanding of the monster he'd been.
There was more, though. Something he couldn't even bear to talk to Buffy about. The soul had set his mind straight, but it hadn't changed his demon. He still had urges. Horrible, unthinkable thoughts that wouldn't have given him a moment's pause before the soul. Now, every time he found himself wanting to give in. To bite, to kill, to fuck…he loathed himself for it.
Despite his best effort, he had a better understanding of Angel's perpetual broodiness now.
What he would not do is sit around feeling sorry for himself about it, though. Unlike Angel, he didn't want to lurk about in the dark flogging himself about how evil he'd been and still might be. Buffy needed him. The Scoobies. The little Potentials. He could damn well help them, and he would.
He'd done his brooding. He wouldn't get any less evil sitting on his ass moping about things.
The night air was still when he and Buffy went out to patrol. As they'd done the past few nights. Patrolling. Waiting for the First to make its move now that it didn't have its grubby non-corporeal hands on him. The removal of the trigger brought with it a wave of relief. Spike wasn't a danger anymore. He could tend to his past sins without gathering up new ones.
His past sins numbered aplenty to keep him occupied. He was reminded of that every time he looked at Buffy.
Patrolling was a distraction from that. A way to be useful. Fight the fight. Not linger on the past.
It was a standard vampire that night. A larger fellow they found hulking after two little girls. The would-be victims watched in paralyzed fear as Buffy and Spike dispatched of the vampire threat. It didn't take them much time anymore, so in sync they were. Couple punches, couple kicks, stake and dust. End it all with a companionable nod at each other without further discussion.
After the task had been taken care of, Buffy and Spike turned to the two girls. Sisters, most likely. Oldest one looked to be 12 or 13. The younger probably barely 10. Older Sis had the younger tucked under her arm to shield her from the attack. Spike could smell their fear.
Older Sis had light blonde hair that was just beginning to darken thanks to puberty. Beneath a loose t-shirt, Spike could see the faint outline of budding breasts cased in a training bra. Spindly, non-muscled legs stuck out awkwardly from a pair of soccer shorts that stopped at mid-thigh. Smooth skin. So very smooth. Something he could tell without even touching.
Spike closed his eyes, but she was still there in his mind. No, not her. Another one. Long ago. Same age, though. Snatched at a fairground. Him and Dru had had one of their falling outs. So he went for his comfort food. A young girl.
She'd had curls. He'd liked that. And a face sticky from cotton candy. She'd wobbled off after too many spins on the teacups. Once she'd got too far from her family, he'd hauled her into an unused tent. Didn't matter if she cried out. Noise of the fair. Nobody would hear her.
Nobody but him.
Her skin had been smooth. Fresh. Everything untouched. She hadn't even know what was going on as he'd stripped her down. Tweaked her barely-there breasts. Explored her virgin pussy with his fingers before forcing himself into her mouth. Take it like a lollipop, he'd told her as she cried.
All the while, he got harder. His demon didn't get sated. It only wanted more. Urging him to partake in more depravity. It was his "fun". That's what he was supposed to do at a fair, right? Have fun?
It ended in blood, of course. Always did. Her being tight and warm, gripping him like a vise. He'd destroyed her. No gentleness needed. He knew she was disposable. He took her as hard as he could. Unleashed every bit of his animal onto her. When she screamed, he laughed and pushed harder. And when her throat was raw, her face red, her entire body exhausted and used up, he'd plunged fangs into her neck. Listening, delighting in her high-pitched keen as he'd drained her. Only then did he find release as her body passed the threshold into death.
It was just one night. Like many others he'd had. So many others. So many little girls. Taken brutally. Killed. By him.
The soul made him feel guilt, but it did not take away the urge.
Spike went cold as he felt himself harden looking at the two girls. Shaking in fear and crying like all the others had. Having sisters…Dru used to get creative with sisters.
As he thought it, as he remembered, he felt sick. Sick enough to walk away, trying to pass it off as surveying something in the distance. He had to fight the compulsion to vomit, but he daren't explain to Buffy what was going on. Couldn't let on to her that he had urges like that even now. Something so heinous. So wrong.
Despite the soul, looking back at the two girls conjured up memories of the past. Things he'd done. Things he could do to them. It excited him. Part of him wanted to do it. Rip into them. Take away their innocence when they were still too young to know what it meant. Then kill them before they could grow up to figure it out.
There couldn't be redemption for a creature like him, could there? He knew it in his gut. As he fought down those thoughts, those instincts, he knew that he could do all the good in the world, but it wouldn't matter. He'd still want to be a monster. Deep inside.
If there were a pool of holy water before him, he'd surely cast himself into it. Anything to not think those things.
"Spike," Buffy said. He turned to her. "I wanna do another sweep around the park. Can you walk the girls home?"
The two had calmed down a bit. The younger one peeked her head out and was staring in wide-eyed...admiration? Fear? A little of both? Her mouth slacked open slightly, revealing missing teeth. Still at the awkward stage. Innocent. His body responded against his wishes.
Buffy was waiting for his answer. It wasn't a big request. Walking two girls home. She trusted him with the soul. Knew the soul wouldn't let him do anything bad.
He wished he had her certainty.
He shored himself up. Past in the past. Buffy believed in his change. Couldn't go back on that. No matter what his demon was screaming at on the inside. Couldn't disappoint Buffy. Couldn't disappoint himself.
Spike nodded, stepping towards the girls. "Don't worry, Slayer. I'll take care of them."
fin
Pairing/Character: Spike
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Pedophilia. Lemme bold that. Pedophilia. I'll not be coy. This is about Spike having pedophiliac urges. It's disturbing and it's graphic, and I feel dirty just having written it.
Word count: 1,241
Summary: Set in S7 after LMPTM, Spike thinks he has a handle on himself now that he has a soul. However, he gets a reminder that he still has a demon with dangerous and perverse urges...
Author's Note: This is a plot bunny I picked up in an offhand comment by flake_sake in her post about vampire sexuality. The basic premise being that Spike is "a veal kinda guy". How would this predilection conflict with his soul in S7? I took it on, and I think I've now gotten about as dark as I ever want to go in my writing.
Thanks for any and all feedback. There are notes for this story if you're interested.
He'd thought it would be simple. Get a soul. Fix himself. Get the girl.
He'd been bloody stupid, of course.
The soul had changed everything for Spike. The things he'd done before, felt, believed...all changed. All twisted. With staggering horror he realized what it meant to be the Big Bad. Not something to wear as a badge of honor. Something that filled him with revulsion.
The things he'd done...
That had been the first curse the soul had brought upon him. It gave him a full understanding of the monster he'd been.
There was more, though. Something he couldn't even bear to talk to Buffy about. The soul had set his mind straight, but it hadn't changed his demon. He still had urges. Horrible, unthinkable thoughts that wouldn't have given him a moment's pause before the soul. Now, every time he found himself wanting to give in. To bite, to kill, to fuck…he loathed himself for it.
Despite his best effort, he had a better understanding of Angel's perpetual broodiness now.
What he would not do is sit around feeling sorry for himself about it, though. Unlike Angel, he didn't want to lurk about in the dark flogging himself about how evil he'd been and still might be. Buffy needed him. The Scoobies. The little Potentials. He could damn well help them, and he would.
He'd done his brooding. He wouldn't get any less evil sitting on his ass moping about things.
The night air was still when he and Buffy went out to patrol. As they'd done the past few nights. Patrolling. Waiting for the First to make its move now that it didn't have its grubby non-corporeal hands on him. The removal of the trigger brought with it a wave of relief. Spike wasn't a danger anymore. He could tend to his past sins without gathering up new ones.
His past sins numbered aplenty to keep him occupied. He was reminded of that every time he looked at Buffy.
Patrolling was a distraction from that. A way to be useful. Fight the fight. Not linger on the past.
It was a standard vampire that night. A larger fellow they found hulking after two little girls. The would-be victims watched in paralyzed fear as Buffy and Spike dispatched of the vampire threat. It didn't take them much time anymore, so in sync they were. Couple punches, couple kicks, stake and dust. End it all with a companionable nod at each other without further discussion.
After the task had been taken care of, Buffy and Spike turned to the two girls. Sisters, most likely. Oldest one looked to be 12 or 13. The younger probably barely 10. Older Sis had the younger tucked under her arm to shield her from the attack. Spike could smell their fear.
Older Sis had light blonde hair that was just beginning to darken thanks to puberty. Beneath a loose t-shirt, Spike could see the faint outline of budding breasts cased in a training bra. Spindly, non-muscled legs stuck out awkwardly from a pair of soccer shorts that stopped at mid-thigh. Smooth skin. So very smooth. Something he could tell without even touching.
Spike closed his eyes, but she was still there in his mind. No, not her. Another one. Long ago. Same age, though. Snatched at a fairground. Him and Dru had had one of their falling outs. So he went for his comfort food. A young girl.
She'd had curls. He'd liked that. And a face sticky from cotton candy. She'd wobbled off after too many spins on the teacups. Once she'd got too far from her family, he'd hauled her into an unused tent. Didn't matter if she cried out. Noise of the fair. Nobody would hear her.
Nobody but him.
Her skin had been smooth. Fresh. Everything untouched. She hadn't even know what was going on as he'd stripped her down. Tweaked her barely-there breasts. Explored her virgin pussy with his fingers before forcing himself into her mouth. Take it like a lollipop, he'd told her as she cried.
All the while, he got harder. His demon didn't get sated. It only wanted more. Urging him to partake in more depravity. It was his "fun". That's what he was supposed to do at a fair, right? Have fun?
It ended in blood, of course. Always did. Her being tight and warm, gripping him like a vise. He'd destroyed her. No gentleness needed. He knew she was disposable. He took her as hard as he could. Unleashed every bit of his animal onto her. When she screamed, he laughed and pushed harder. And when her throat was raw, her face red, her entire body exhausted and used up, he'd plunged fangs into her neck. Listening, delighting in her high-pitched keen as he'd drained her. Only then did he find release as her body passed the threshold into death.
It was just one night. Like many others he'd had. So many others. So many little girls. Taken brutally. Killed. By him.
The soul made him feel guilt, but it did not take away the urge.
Spike went cold as he felt himself harden looking at the two girls. Shaking in fear and crying like all the others had. Having sisters…Dru used to get creative with sisters.
As he thought it, as he remembered, he felt sick. Sick enough to walk away, trying to pass it off as surveying something in the distance. He had to fight the compulsion to vomit, but he daren't explain to Buffy what was going on. Couldn't let on to her that he had urges like that even now. Something so heinous. So wrong.
Despite the soul, looking back at the two girls conjured up memories of the past. Things he'd done. Things he could do to them. It excited him. Part of him wanted to do it. Rip into them. Take away their innocence when they were still too young to know what it meant. Then kill them before they could grow up to figure it out.
There couldn't be redemption for a creature like him, could there? He knew it in his gut. As he fought down those thoughts, those instincts, he knew that he could do all the good in the world, but it wouldn't matter. He'd still want to be a monster. Deep inside.
If there were a pool of holy water before him, he'd surely cast himself into it. Anything to not think those things.
"Spike," Buffy said. He turned to her. "I wanna do another sweep around the park. Can you walk the girls home?"
The two had calmed down a bit. The younger one peeked her head out and was staring in wide-eyed...admiration? Fear? A little of both? Her mouth slacked open slightly, revealing missing teeth. Still at the awkward stage. Innocent. His body responded against his wishes.
Buffy was waiting for his answer. It wasn't a big request. Walking two girls home. She trusted him with the soul. Knew the soul wouldn't let him do anything bad.
He wished he had her certainty.
He shored himself up. Past in the past. Buffy believed in his change. Couldn't go back on that. No matter what his demon was screaming at on the inside. Couldn't disappoint Buffy. Couldn't disappoint himself.
Spike nodded, stepping towards the girls. "Don't worry, Slayer. I'll take care of them."
fin