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The urge to run flowed through her veins at an unrelenting pace. Buffy needed to fight something—but what was there to fight? Town-wide laryngitis wasn’t really a punchable foe at this point. Until they had answers, she, alongside her friends, were stuck in research mode in Giles’ apartment. A seemingly never-ending cycle of page flipping through books with more types of demons than Buffy could comprehend. Honestly, what was the likelihood that she was going to encounter a Lei-Ach demon? Probably not enough to justify a book with an entire chapter about them.
Regardless, she flipped through the pages anyway in case something stuck out to her. Even though she knew Willow or Giles would most likely be the one to find the answer and she’d just be handed a weapon. It was all a matter of waiting until then. Or at least until Buffy could escape into what was hopefully an eventful patrol—regular beasties taking advantage of the current situation plus whatever caused this extreme case of the silent treatment.
Nightfall couldn’t come fast enough. Research parties were usually boisterous, filled with quippy commentary and the occasional ‘ah ha!’ when someone found a relevant demon—but today it was uncomfortably silent. The only sounds being the occasional flip of a page and Willow’s keystrokes on her laptop.
And Spike tapping his damn pen on the side of the book in his hands.
Why Xander had thought to bring the vampire was beyond Buffy’s understanding. At least, like the rest of them, Spike couldn’t speak so she hadn't been subjected to listening to him go on about their imminent failure. There was at least one silver lining to the silence.
He continued tapping the pen. As she began to move to grab it from his fingers and toss it to the other side of the room, she realized…despite his tapping, he was actually reading. Wait, was Spike actually helping research?
When the vamp had first arrived at the apartment, he'd dramatically thrown himself on the opposite end of the couch that Buffy was on and reached for the remote. Just as he was about to turn the television on, Giles snagged the remote and replaced it with a book and a classic Giles pointed look. Spike responded in kind with an expected vulgar hand gesture.
But apparently, he’d eventually cracked open the book. He must be as bored as Buffy was.
Not one to be shown-up by Spike, Buffy looked back in the book in her lap. At least for another half hour. A half hour of exhausting silence that had Buffy even more on edge than she’d been earlier. She’d tried meditating, tried heavily focusing on the book in her lap, even tried to make a pattern out of Spike’s tapping. Nothing was working.
With an annoyed—but silent—sigh, she stood up from the couch. Maybe a change in scenery would help, or at least provide a distraction.
Side stepping Spike’s legs, Buffy headed towards the kitchen. She was never good at the sitting still part of this; she much preferred being pointed in the direction of what to hit.
Tossing her useless book and almost blank notebook on the counter in front of her, she reached for a banana from the fruit bowl. Resting her elbows on the cold surface of the counter, she stared at her book that might as well have been in Latin for as much as she was comprehending.
Although she didn’t look up from her book, she knew the exact moment Spike had decided to move. She wasn’t deliberately focusing on him, but she’d been sensing him more lately. Some mixture of vampire alarm bells and something she’d begun to identify as Spike. It irritated her, whatever it was. He’d stood up from the couch, probably stretched in his annoyingly cat-like manner, and had begun walking towards her. She didn’t move her eyes for a second; she was not entertaining any of his antics today.
He didn’t seem discouraged by her lack of acknowledgement and soon he was leaning on the counter beside her. Standing closer to her than mortal enemies had any right to.
She watched with a curious eye as Spike reached over towards the almost blank notepad in front of her with the pen he’d been annoyingly tapping just minutes prior in his hand.
Now he was writing in her notebook. Where she’d written important things like: ‘probably not aliens’ and the tally of times Giles had made tea only to forget about it until it was cold (three times so far). But now Spike was writing on it with his damn pen; it was almost more annoying than the tapping.
His breath ghosted over on her shoulder—why was he even breathing? Why was he so close to her? She didn’t think it was possible for someone to make so much noise without a voice. Spike might as well have been halfway through a one-man-show at this point for how present he’d been. Even without a voice it was hard for Buffy to not be acutely aware of his presence.
Which was even more unfair because she’d been trying extra hard to ignore him. Ever since their magic-induced engagement of the previous week, she’d been avoiding him. She knew he basically had an artillery built of zingers that would probably cut through her thick skin—Spike always had a way to get to her—and she’d been trying to avoid the combat zone. Not that she wasn’t prepared with her own weaponry—seriously, he wanted to recite a poem as his vows? Some big bad vampire…
When he pulled his hand away from the page, she looked down to see what he’d left. A death threat? Some sort of British curse word she didn’t yet know?
I’m bored.
She snorted. Well, her nose did the scrunchy thing but no unimpressed noise emerged.
She wrote back: Don’t care.
She had no interest in running an After School Program for Neutered Vampires. She was also incredibly bored but it wasn’t like she’d approached Spike to fill that void.
Spike picked up his pen once again and drew the grid of a tic-tac-toe game.
Buffy rolled her eyes but still wrote an X in the top left spot. Screw it, she was bored. And what harm could there be in playing schoolyard games with the resident vamp? Definitely not more than the rounds of tonsil hockey they’d played the previous week.
Shaking off those thoughts, Buffy waited for Spike to play his ‘O’. They went back and forth until Buffy was victorious and Spike drew another grid.
After gleefully drawing another winning line, she set down the pencil and turned back to the research in front of her. She had to at least look focused in case anyone looked over and she couldn’t be spotted playing games with Spike.
After a few minutes of attempting to focus, the tapping returned. She knew it was some sort of song that she couldn’t quite place.
Out of her periphery, she saw him reach over to the notebook again and begin writing. He slid the notebook back over to her, knocking her elbow.
Buffy glanced down.
Still bored.
She rolled her eyes and wrote back: Entertain yourself.
He smirked before drawing a tiny little devil’s face next to her words.
Great. He was feeling cheeky. That probably meant he was gearing up to be an extra-nuisance. Well, at least the few rounds of tic-tac-toe weren’t horrible. But she feared what he was now up to.
He reached over and began writing again—maybe this time he’d start a game of MASH?
I do owe you one, love.
God, he even wrote out the pet names? It should be lame. It should make her cringe. Anyone else using cutesy patronizing names had gotten a quick shutdown from her in the past—but for some reason, Spike got a free pass. She almost liked them. And even now, in writing, she didn’t mind.
She didn’t know what he meant by owing her one, though. Her brows crinkled in confusion and she looked up quizzically at him. He was staring at her with a look that she could only define as sinful. His eyes raked over her body in a way that made her feel so completely desired—in fact, she’d only felt like that one other time before. Recently in fact. Last week, actually.
Her eyes went wide with realization and her cheeks reddened.
He clicked his tongue, clearly proud of himself at catching her off guard. Then he picked up the pen again: The loo?
Buffy glanced from his words to where the bathroom sat on the other side of the wall. Where she’d dragged him eagerly by the hand only a few days ago.
—*—
“Shh—be quiet,” she murmured into his lips as she pressed him back against the closed door.
“My my my, is my Slayer secretly a naughty girl?” He was smiling like an idiot between words.
“I just want to…do something nice for my husband-to-be,” she said as she slowly lowered herself to kneel on the cold tile. “Is that so wrong?”
Spike reached out and gently caressed her face, pushing her hair back behind her ear. “Well, who am I to deny my betrothed?”
Buffy smiled as she reached up to undo his belt. She was nervous—she wasn’t completely inexperienced at this, but she wasn’t ready to start bragging. And she knew Spike was definitely more seasoned; he had the whole oozing-sex-appeal thing paired with literally being over a hundred years old. There was probably little Spike hadn’t done, right? But she wanted to impress him. To show that she could please him. They were already facing a lifetime of difficulty being a vampire and a Slayer; they were going to have a fulfilling sex life as a happily married couple, damnit.
It wasn't surprising when his hard cock bobbed out excitedly towards her the moment she undid his zipper. She knew how hard he'd been for most of the night; she'd felt it against her thigh as they snuggled in the chair. He'd even caught her staring at the bulge in his jeans and had placed her hand over the denim and whispered to her about how she always made him so bloody hard. How he couldn't wait for their wedding night and they'd make such beautiful love that he might burst into flame. That she was so radiant that he couldn't believe she'd said yes to him. That he couldn't wait to love her the way she deserved.
Then of course, because he's Spike, he told her about how he'd jerked off countless times over the years imagining her spread out before him or on her knees ready to take him into her mouth—her perfect lips opening just for him. How he could tell how hot his words got her, that she was dripping for him.
It was what had inspired this brief detour to Giles’ restroom.
With more confidence than she truly felt, she reached out and slid her fingers up his hard length. Immediately at her touch, he gasped in pleasure. His cock was smooth and felt right in her hand.
Spurred on by his positive reaction, she wrapped her fingers tighter around him and began to slowly pump. She never knew how much pressure to have doing this. She had gone a bit too firm on Parker and it had left her nervous. Although in retrospect, it was kinda funny and she no longer felt bad about hurting him. But she didn’t want to hurt Spike: she wanted to love him.
He must have sensed her hesitancy and reached down to cover her hand with his. He tightened her grip and began stroking faster, pinching slightly at the tip. She smiled knowingly up at him and after a few pumps, she began to lead the pattern and Spike lessened his grip.
Emboldened, she gave the underside of his cock a firm lick with the flat of her tongue. She could hear his gasp and she continued her exploration. Licking up and down each side of his cock like a popsicle on a hot summer day, she finally swirled her tongue around his slit, tasting a hint of precum. With a final swirl of her tongue around the head, she parted her lips and took his cock into her mouth.
At hearing his gasp, she looked up at him with wide-eyes, wanting to witness his pleasure. She began bobbing her head, sliding his cock in and out of her mouth. Tightening her lips around him, she worked him further into her mouth, approaching her throat.
“Touch yourself while you suck me off,” he panted.
Her lips curled around his cock in a smile. Slowly she moved her hand down his thigh, nails scraping down the denim before moving to slip her hand past the waistband on her pants.
She’d been turned on for so long now, she was itching for release. Even before the proposal, the banter with Spike had got her going—it always had. Quickly, she slipped her fingers in between her pussy lips and located her swollen clit. She was already so wet, she knew she wasn’t too far away from release.
She moaned around Spike’s cock which she was still bobbing in and out of her mouth. Focusing on getting them both off simultaneously felt exhilarating.
His fingers brushed the hair out of her face and held it back in a loose ponytail. “That’s it, love. Good girl.”
She never really considered herself as having any sort of praise-kink, but as the words flowed through Spike’s lips she couldn’t deny her reaction. Her eyes widened and her fingers circled her clit with increasing pressure and she felt herself approaching the cusp of coming. She’d never come so fast before, especially with just her fingers. But Spike had been keeping her on edge all night with filthy promises whispered in her ear and discreet caresses, that she didn’t need much coaxing to push her to where she was now—writhing on her knees with Spike’s cock in between her lips and her own fingers rubbing her clit back and forth as she approached the edge of her orgasm. She just needed something more to push her over the edge.
Spike spoke again: “I want to feel you come with my cock down your throat.”
Fuck, that was it.
She choked a bit as she came; her throat constricting around his cock as the pleasure washed over her. A muffled moan escaped her throat and she stopped moving her head as she settled in amongst the stars. Spike picked up the motion with his hips, slowly thrusting his hips forward to continue the motion. Somehow through the blood rushing through her ears, she could hear Spike’s moans as she flattened her tongue against his moving cock.
Just as she felt his cock tense, he pulled out from her mouth slowly. Before she could get the words out to tell him she wanted him to finish in her mouth, he lightly tapped her lips with the head of his cock.
“Hold out your tongue, love. Show me how much you want this.”
He stared at her while he stroked his cock at the same speed that he had in her mouth.
She should have been embarrassed—kneeling before a man as he jerked off, with her tongue out and ready to accept his spendings. But she wasn't embarrassed. All she could think of was how fucking badly she wanted to watch him come, to see that tense release wash over his beautiful face, to taste him. All she could think was ‘I can't believe we get to do this for the rest of our lives.’
They were going to be that annoyingly perfect couple. The ones that everyone wanted to hate but just couldn't. The ones that you could just sense in every movement how much love was between them. And sure they'd fight, but they'd always make up and come home together. They wouldn't leave.
Cause he was hers. And she was his.
And well, fuck this was so damn hot—they’d only just begun discovering each other and she was already addicted.
She looked up to watch his face and wasn't surprised to see him staring back at her. His eyes were dark with lust but with a hint of softness she hadn't noticed before. God, she loved him so much. His expression changed the longer he looked at her and soon he was radiating with love. She could practically feel the trust blossoming between them.
His fingers stroked over his pulsing cock, lightly squeezing the tip and tapping her tongue with each pull. She watched as his cheeks hollowed in tension and soon she felt his release on her tongue. His eyes fluttered shut and her name whispered past his lips like a prayer. As he continued to come, she closed her lips around the head of his cock to not miss a drop. As he slowly opened his eyes again, she made eye contact as she swallowed.
She kissed his tip before gently tucking him back into his jeans and pushing herself back up to a standing position. She smiled shyly at him, unsure of what to do now. He lovingly grinned back at her before sliding his fingers through her hair and pulling her lips to his. This, she could do.
Melting into the kiss, she enjoyed the simple act. Softly, he spun them both around to guide her back against the door.
“My turn,” he said as he kissed down her neck and began to lower himself to the ground.
She halted his descent, “We don’t have time. The magic shop is going to close soon.”
He paused at her chest and looked up with an adorable pout on his face. “I want to taste you.”
She almost gave in. She desperately wanted to—to let him act out some of the promises he’d whispered over the evening. But she knew they were in a rush as they needed to get the supplies for Giles. They'd already lost enough time—sure, amazingly hot and loving time spent, but lost time nonetheless.
In a daring move that she wasn’t sure where she’d gotten the confidence from—but something about Spike made her feel brave and safe and she was already addicted to it—she lifted the fingers that had just been encircling her clit to his lips. He happily opened his mouth and sinfully licked his way up and around her index finger, savouring every second.
His eyes shut as his lips closed around her fingers. She could feel his tongue wrapping around each finger, trailing up and down, paths similar to what she had done moments earlier on him.
He groaned and his eyes slowly opened to meet hers, darker than she’d ever seen them.
Slowly, she pulled her fingers from his mouth. “There…a taste.”
He leaned forward and kissed the tips of her fingers. “Fuck, love. Make an addict of me with honey like that.”
He pulled her closer by her belt loops and trailed his fingers lightly over her midriff.
“I don't like to leave my woman wanting…” Spike said as he dropped his fingertips just inside the top of her pants.
She smiled but pushed him slightly away from her, fighting all of her instincts to pull him closer and never leave. Instead, she forced herself to open the door
“You can owe me one,” she said with a flirty wink before leaving the room.
—*—
At the touch of his fingers on her lower back, she jumped back into the present, where she was standing far too close to a vampire who had just propositioned her.
She’d offered and apparently he’d come to collect.
Her eyes were wide with surprise as he continued to stare at her. She hadn’t answered his question. She didn’t even know if she could.
Spike moved in the direction of leaving the kitchen, whether to go to the bathroom or back to the living room, Buffy wasn’t sure. But she reached out and stopped him either way.
Glancing down at her hands on his chest, Spike grinned and stepped forward to push her slightly back against the counter. Then with a pop of his eyebrows, and a shrug as if to say ‘fine, then,’, Spike slunk to his knees on the ground in front of her.
She watched in shock and disbelief as he settled in on his knees on the kitchen floor. His coat billowed around him in a leather circle and the jerk had the arrogance to hold his pointer finger up to his lips in a shushing motion.
She should be kneeing him away—should be punching him in the face and moving back to the living room. She shouldn’t be nodding as his fingers lightly brushed the exposed skin of her midriff, mirroring the action he had done in the bathroom only a few days earlier.
But they had been under a spell then. That was why Spike had offered what he had…right? He couldn’t actually be interested in following through on his promise. But then she vividly remembered how he’d savoured the taste on her fingers, how he looked at her with such intense passion that it made her feel powerful and womanly.
She’d spent more than her fair share of private moments over the past few days thinking about the filthy promises he’d made.
So when his fingers reached towards the drawstring of her pants, she watched frozen in place. He seemed just as shocked as she was that she was letting this happen. Hell, that she was excited and so freaking turned on and wanted this to happen.
She’d plead temporary insanity brought on by stir-craziness if anyone ever found out about it.
Spike had kept his lips shut about her efforts on the tile floor of Giles’ bathroom. Even as he’d made fun of her choice in wedding music, he hadn’t gone for the kill by sharing their exploits. And that made her think he’d keep this a secret too.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she was shimmying her hips out of her pants.
Maybe she’d have to accept one day that she was currently standing in her Watcher’s kitchen with her pants around her knees and a vampire toying with her underwear. But not today. Today, she just needed him to hurry up before Giles realized he needed to remake his third cup of tea.
His fingers feathered over her mound before hovering over the apex of her thighs. He rubbed his thumb along the line of her lips through her underwear. She could feel the dampness of the fabric against her skin and wasn’t surprised—she’d been this wet when it had been her on her knees for him.
Finally, he peeled her underwear down her hips and she couldn’t look away from how dark his eyes were. How his nostrils flared and he looked at her body like she was simultaneously prey and the most precious thing he’d ever seen. God, a girl could get addicted to being looked at like that.
There was nothing good in thoughts like that. This was simply about boredom and pressure. And hell, she got on her knees for Spike once—he did owe her one.
He breathed in heavily and then quickly flicked his eyes up to catch her staring. He didn’t break away from their gaze as he leaned forward and licked the bud of her clit peeking out from between her pussy lips.
A silent gasp emerged from her throat and Spike smiled. Then he delved in between her legs like a man starved.
Soon, her left leg was flung over his shoulder as he moved to taste more of her.
His tongue pierced her with smooth grace and he raised his fingers to continue the movement on her clit.
God, Spike was fucking her with his tongue. In Giles’ kitchen. And fuck, she might die if he stopped.
She couldn’t believe she was doing this. This wasn’t like her at all, but she couldn’t stop. This was calming her nerves like no amount of meditation and tea ever could. Like a thousand patrols put into one.
Fuck, they were going to be caught. She was being the worst Slayer in history, slutting it up while her friends researched the weekly bad guy on the other side of the room. But she was so fucking close and goddamn this vampire knew how to work his tongue.
Thankfully, no one seemed to be paying them any attention. As she looked back over her shoulder and the rest of the apartment, everyone was focused on the books in front of them. Xander was asleep in a chair, Giles and Olivia flipping through books, and Willow typing away on her laptop. No one was even giving a passing glance towards the kitchen.
As he captured her clit between his lips and suckled, she closed her eyes in pleasure. She was ready to ride this wave right into next week if he would just keep flicking her bud with the tip of his tongue like that.
Then Spike’s tongue stopped moving. She opened her eyes to glare down at the suddenly underperforming vampire.
He reached up to the counter to the notepad and quickly wrote: eyes open, pet.
She glared harder at him. How dare he tell her what to do—even if he was technically right that she needed to look presentable from the waist up if they were going to get away with this. But she didn’t think it was just about that; he wanted her to watch him.
Her annoyance dissipated as she noticed the wetness around his lips and she remembered she’d been on the cusp of something epic just seconds ago.
“Fine,” she mouthed with every ounce of irritation she could muster.
He grinned up at her and she was reminded of some poem from class about the devil on his knees. But she was the damn Slayer and a vamp on his knees in front of her shouldn’t be so cocky. Forcefully, she grabbed his head and pulled him back between her still shaking thighs. Spike’s tongue returned to her clit with enthusiasm, as he was seemingly spurred on by her direction.
Leaning back to watch her, he thrust two fingers inside her. Her eyes widened and she could tell he was freaking smirking into her dripping pussy. God, it made it even hotter and spurred her on more.
He was curling his fingers as he thrust them in and out, touching some inner part of her that made her believe she could actually see stars. She buckled and thrashed against Spike’s face as her orgasm washed over her.
In the back of her mind, she thanked her current voicelessness, because she was sure she was screaming at this point. A combination of gasps, moans, and more than one exclamation of his name (that she’d vehemently deny later) had escaped her throat and if she had her voice, there’d be no way to hide the world shattering orgasm she was currently living while her friends sat mere feet away.
Seconds, minutes, maybe hours later, she stopped convulsing against him. Her thighs twitched as he slowly released her clit from between his lips. She felt a delicate kiss on her swollen clit, another two kisses on her inner thighs, before he leant back on his ankles and stared up at her.
Dazedly, she looked down at him and she couldn’t even muster any annoyance at his smug grin. Spike was so fucking pleased with himself and she couldn’t argue that he shouldn’t be—the vamp had just played her body like a goddamn maestro. He could be cocky if he wanted to at this moment.
With a deep breath out, Buffy steadied herself. She gave Spike a shy smile and he stared at her with that observant head tilt that made her feel too vulnerable. Like he was seeing more than she was willing to show at this moment. She could feel his breath against her pussy and she reached down to grab her underwear to add some sort of barrier between them. Her movement seemed to shock Spike back into the present and he reached forward and began dressing her with a kindness she didn’t know what to do with.
She expected Spike to do something to ruin the moment—do something crude or draw attention to them. Maybe even try to get her to go another round in the bathroom or something. Maybe try to talk her into exploring the bedroom upstairs.
Instead, he stood back up slowly, leant back over the counter and grabbed the book he’d been reading before. As if nothing had ever happened. As if he hadn’t just had his tongue inside her while she basically rode his face in the kitchen.
Why was she almost a bit disappointed that he hadn’t just spun her around and taken her from behind? Or at the very least dragged her off to the restroom?
Apparently he had just been looking for a way to temporarily cure his boredom. Why did that thought feel like it hurt too much?
She slowly spun back to her original position, leaning against the counter on her elbows and staring at her own book. The sun had almost set and soon she’d be able to head out to patrol. Try to get her head on straight and figure out what the hell just happened here.
Then Spike reached out and grabbed her notebook once more.
I know more ways to entertain us, pet
Buffy smiled at his words. This is definitely not how she thought her day was going to go. But hell if she wasn’t going to see where it took her.
She grabbed Spike by the wrist and pulled him out of the kitchen and directed him to the door. She quickly wrote on her white board and held it up to the group that were now looking at her curiously.
Going to patrol. Taking Spike.
She didn't bother to give a reason. She'd come up with one by the time she returned and be forced to give one.
Maybe she’d come up with a really believable one in between orgasms.
Only one way to find out.