The Blood of Many A Valiant Knight (R)
Title The Blood of Many A Valiant Knight
Author Brutti ma buoni
Rating R
Words 550
Prompt Let's not bicker about who killed who.
NB There are significant warnings and setting info below a second cut - but they are spoilery for this fic. I've deliberately not tagged setting just yet [will come back once a few of you have a chance to read it].
Spike licks hard up her neck. He loves that bare expanse, that vulnerable spot where bites take best. It's already claimed, of course, the scar tissue hard and nubbly under his tongue. He loves it anyway. Buffy gasps and presses back against him.
"Like that, don't you, kitten?" She makes a grumbling sound, hating the nickname, but it just makes her all the more kittenish in this moment. Nice for her to be something other than a warrior, just for a moment.
Since he first saw her, Spike knew she could be like this, tigerish and matching him in fight and fuck alike. The first time he had her, face down on a cop car and pressing back into him, halfway between giving in to the moment and throwing him off, but he'd convinced her to play it his way. Starbursts of pleasure across his brain and he knew she'd been right there with him.
Hard to believe it's only a couple of days since. Look how far they've come.
He pulls Buffy upright, back to his front, so that she can see the mansion in all its glorious dusty bloody completion. Feels her face change, bumpy against his cheek as they survey the mess they made together.
There's her Watcher. There's the pile of dust that was once Angelus, close but not touching the smear that once was Drusilla. She never did quite get back to touch her Daddy and say a proper goodbye. There's the boy, the incompetent one. Couple of dusty and unmourned minions. And, more recent, the second heroic raiding party: two little girls, the dog boy, and the Slayer's mother. It's a pretty clean sheet, if Spike does say so himself. Not that they were much competition.
"Reckon this alliance is the best idea I've had in a long time, Slayer." He rubs his hardening dick against her. She presses back. He wonders vaguely whether they'll ever get around to fucking face to face, but it's not an urgent thought right now. And he likes to press her down under him, the only time she's within his control. Even then, it's only with her consent. That's the fun of it.
She giggles. "I can't believe they didn't see it coming."
Spike knows, a little better, how this goes. "Come on, pet. Nobody even knew I was healed enough to find you. Let alone take you down." Nobody knew how tired she'd been. Bone-exhausted, disheartened, seeing her future in the bloody gape of Kendra's throat. How he'd been going to try for a kinder alliance, of a strictly temporary sort, but how a much better option presented itself. How she'd turned her head, offering her neck, and not fighting him while he took everything he wanted.
Nostalgic already, Spike allows himself a little recap. "So, yeah. We saved the world. Saw off Angelus and bloody faithless Dru. Wiped out your tedious little Scoobs. Gained ourselves a Hellmouth to play on. Not too shabby for a couple of days' work, Spike."
He's starting a smug exhale when Buffy elbows him smartly enough to double him over briefly. "Hey! Not all that was you."
"Baby, baby," he croons, dragging himself back upright and returning to his favourite spot on her neck. "We've achieved so much. And there's so much to look forward to. Let's not bicker and argue about who killed who."
After all, it was Spike who killed the Slayer. And that's the really important part.
***
Setting season 2, during/after an AU Becoming where the raising of Acathla and its aftermath took a few days
Warnings Hints of non-con, multiple major character deaths, vamp!Buffy
Author Brutti ma buoni
Rating R
Words 550
Prompt Let's not bicker about who killed who.
NB There are significant warnings and setting info below a second cut - but they are spoilery for this fic. I've deliberately not tagged setting just yet [will come back once a few of you have a chance to read it].
Spike licks hard up her neck. He loves that bare expanse, that vulnerable spot where bites take best. It's already claimed, of course, the scar tissue hard and nubbly under his tongue. He loves it anyway. Buffy gasps and presses back against him.
"Like that, don't you, kitten?" She makes a grumbling sound, hating the nickname, but it just makes her all the more kittenish in this moment. Nice for her to be something other than a warrior, just for a moment.
Since he first saw her, Spike knew she could be like this, tigerish and matching him in fight and fuck alike. The first time he had her, face down on a cop car and pressing back into him, halfway between giving in to the moment and throwing him off, but he'd convinced her to play it his way. Starbursts of pleasure across his brain and he knew she'd been right there with him.
Hard to believe it's only a couple of days since. Look how far they've come.
He pulls Buffy upright, back to his front, so that she can see the mansion in all its glorious dusty bloody completion. Feels her face change, bumpy against his cheek as they survey the mess they made together.
There's her Watcher. There's the pile of dust that was once Angelus, close but not touching the smear that once was Drusilla. She never did quite get back to touch her Daddy and say a proper goodbye. There's the boy, the incompetent one. Couple of dusty and unmourned minions. And, more recent, the second heroic raiding party: two little girls, the dog boy, and the Slayer's mother. It's a pretty clean sheet, if Spike does say so himself. Not that they were much competition.
"Reckon this alliance is the best idea I've had in a long time, Slayer." He rubs his hardening dick against her. She presses back. He wonders vaguely whether they'll ever get around to fucking face to face, but it's not an urgent thought right now. And he likes to press her down under him, the only time she's within his control. Even then, it's only with her consent. That's the fun of it.
She giggles. "I can't believe they didn't see it coming."
Spike knows, a little better, how this goes. "Come on, pet. Nobody even knew I was healed enough to find you. Let alone take you down." Nobody knew how tired she'd been. Bone-exhausted, disheartened, seeing her future in the bloody gape of Kendra's throat. How he'd been going to try for a kinder alliance, of a strictly temporary sort, but how a much better option presented itself. How she'd turned her head, offering her neck, and not fighting him while he took everything he wanted.
Nostalgic already, Spike allows himself a little recap. "So, yeah. We saved the world. Saw off Angelus and bloody faithless Dru. Wiped out your tedious little Scoobs. Gained ourselves a Hellmouth to play on. Not too shabby for a couple of days' work, Spike."
He's starting a smug exhale when Buffy elbows him smartly enough to double him over briefly. "Hey! Not all that was you."
"Baby, baby," he croons, dragging himself back upright and returning to his favourite spot on her neck. "We've achieved so much. And there's so much to look forward to. Let's not bicker and argue about who killed who."
After all, it was Spike who killed the Slayer. And that's the really important part.
***
Setting season 2, during/after an AU Becoming where the raising of Acathla and its aftermath took a few days
Warnings Hints of non-con, multiple major character deaths, vamp!Buffy