( this is not a brag — this is a horrifying reality. buffy can go for hours, and her slayer enhancements will leave her barely sweaty, ready for more. this was extremely novel and sexualized by the boys in college — which is similarly humiliating, and humbling, as expecting a guy might want to have more than just sex with you. angel only got the one chance to try it. riley could keep up, but it would exhaust him. spike? a real goldilocks of sexual partners, fitting just right. he'd probably be happy to die having sex with buffy, which works, because dead is exactly what buffy pretends to want him. )
you wanted to do things to me. you said you thought about it a lot. you know what i mean?
( it feels hard to write out the words, like they're uncomfortable somehow — not that she's shy, but that she doesn't know how to say it, isn't sure what it'll sound like coming from her. but, you know. it's texting. it barely counts. )
i fucked you against the wall. and then the floor. and then you pushed me on my back and tried to tongue all your come out of me. you didn't stop until i came twice. or maybe three times. that hadn't happened to me before, getting off like that.
you're not doing a good job of making me not think about it btw
[ Sometimes, Spike smokes more for want of something to do with his mouth and hands than any sort of nicotine habit, because vampires can't get addicted to human substances anymore--but he's addicted to Buffy. The scent of her, feel of her, the sound of his name on her lips.
The filter's gone wet on his tongue, dick pressing uncomfortably against the zip of his trousers. ]
'Course I know what you mean. Can't think of anything but the things I want to do to you.
And I'd let you do anything you want to me. Smother me with your cunt 'cause I don't need my lungs, anyway. Cuff me to the bedposts 'cause I don't need my hands to make you scream, either.
( she's worrying the side of her thumb against the flat of her teeth — which crack into a smile, buffy rolling over and onto her front. linus (the well loved, and unfortunately not unused to this treatment, lion) gets snagged, tucked between her legs. )
no way you'd actually let me cuff you. you're just saying that. you like to be in control too much
money where your mouth is, spike. i'll believe it when i see it.
( though, really — it's not that hard to imagine. if spike is grateful for every inch he gets of her, wouldn't he accept that with open arms? if, theoretically, it was the only way buffy knew how to be — it's not like he'd ever call them incompatible, he'd never forfeit that. if he didn't like it, he'd make himself fit the mold. same as buffy with all her previous boyfriends, changing to squeeze into the space. )
gonna be some trouble finding a bedpost right now, though how about i cuff them together, above your head? with enough room to put my knees on either side of your neck
( getting eaten out isn't something she's ever enjoyed, really. since spike? it'd be too flattering to call it a favorite (but not at all a lie). )
are you gonna beg me to lower down, or just open your mouth like a sweetie?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
most can't keep up
( this is not a brag — this is a horrifying reality. buffy can go for hours, and her slayer enhancements will leave her barely sweaty, ready for more. this was extremely novel and sexualized by the boys in college — which is similarly humiliating, and humbling, as expecting a guy might want to have more than just sex with you. angel only got the one chance to try it. riley could keep up, but it would exhaust him. spike? a real goldilocks of sexual partners, fitting just right. he'd probably be happy to die having sex with buffy, which works, because dead is exactly what buffy pretends to want him. )
you wanted to do things to me. you said you thought about it a lot.
you know what i mean?
( it feels hard to write out the words, like they're uncomfortable somehow — not that she's shy, but that she doesn't know how to say it, isn't sure what it'll sound like coming from her. but, you know. it's texting. it barely counts. )
i fucked you against the wall. and then the floor. and then you pushed me on my back and tried to tongue all your come out of me.
you didn't stop until i came twice. or maybe three times. that hadn't happened to me before, getting off like that.
you're not doing a good job of making me not think about it btw
no subject
The filter's gone wet on his tongue, dick pressing uncomfortably against the zip of his trousers. ]
'Course I know what you mean. Can't think of anything but the things I want to do to you.
And I'd let you do anything you want to me. Smother me with your cunt 'cause I don't need my lungs, anyway. Cuff me to the bedposts 'cause I don't need my hands to make you scream, either.
no subject
no way you'd actually let me cuff you. you're just saying that.
you like to be in control too much
no subject
Wouldn't give it up to just anyone. Gotta be someone who can keep up with me.
no subject
( though, really — it's not that hard to imagine. if spike is grateful for every inch he gets of her, wouldn't he accept that with open arms? if, theoretically, it was the only way buffy knew how to be — it's not like he'd ever call them incompatible, he'd never forfeit that. if he didn't like it, he'd make himself fit the mold. same as buffy with all her previous boyfriends, changing to squeeze into the space. )
gonna be some trouble finding a bedpost right now, though
how about i cuff them together, above your head? with enough room to put my knees on either side of your neck
( getting eaten out isn't something she's ever enjoyed, really. since spike? it'd be too flattering to call it a favorite (but not at all a lie). )
are you gonna beg me to lower down, or just open your mouth like a sweetie?