AN: Just a short Spuffy PWP. This contains public sex and a little bit of voyeurism. Totally not appropriate for anyone under the age of 17 (or the legal equivalent from where ever you might currently be reading from), so please read responsibly and so on. Everyone else, enjoy...




WANT


Buffy stood in the shadows of the balcony at the Bronze and watched her friends interact down below.

God was she tired—tired of pretending. Her whole life was a farce. She played so many different parts that she didn’t know which one was her anymore.

She didn’t want to admit it—least of all to herself—but with Angel gone there was just one less part for her to play, and for that she was thankful. With Angel she had always had to be the one pure force of good in the world. His salvation—the one who could lead him along the road to redemption and could do no wrong from way up on the pedestal he had placed her.

If only.

She was the student at school, the daughter around her mother, the Slayer to her watcher, the ‘normal’ friend to Xander and Willow, not to mention their saviour when they got themselves knee deep in shit time after time. No. Despite everything they’d been through and everything she’d felt for Angel, she was glad to be rid of one of her many faces.

Buffy’s eyes returned once more to the dance floor where her friends were laughing and dancing happily, comfortable in their own skin and confident in who they were and where they were headed. They didn’t have the responsibilities she had. They didn’t have to stop every few minutes to ask themselves ‘who am I meant to be right now?’ They hadn’t lost themselves in the whirlwind of different parts that didn’t fit together to make a whole.

Buffy sighed heavily. So lost in her thoughts, she almost startled when a hand came to rest on her shoulder for a moment before continuing on to slide down the soft skin of her bare arm. It was a cool hand, yet she felt no danger. This hand felt familiar and for a few blissful seconds the voices in her head seemed to quieten.

“They don’t understand you, do they, pet? They don’t understand what you are, where you come from, what you’re capable of… they don’t understand your needs.” His voice was rich and smooth. She could feel it vibrating against the skin of her neck as he spoke softly into her ear. “Not like I do, Slayer.”

“What are you doing back in Sunnydale? I thought we had an agreement—you help me with Angelus, I never see you again,” Buffy said in a quiet voice that betrayed how tired she was. That she hadn’t jumped around and threatened to stake him yet was telling enough. Yet, she knew somehow that he was not here to hurt her.

“What can I say, pet, I’m a demon. I do what I want,” he said as he slid his hand down her side to punctuate his statement, eyebrows rising appraisingly when she didn’t stop him, “when I want.”

Spike’s hand slipped under her shirt to play across the skin of her belly as he pulled her back into him roughly.

Buffy let out a soft moan.

“What do you want then?” She asked, making no move to stop him.

“That’s a loaded question,” he said with a small chuckle as his fingers dipped lower to slip, just slightly, beneath the waistband of her pants. He made no move to go lower though.

“Right now?”

She nodded her head slowly, her eyes never having left the dance floor below her. “Right now.”

“You,” he replied simply.

Buffy gasped as he punctuated the statement by pushed his erection firmly into the rounded softness of her bottom. Her head seemed to fall back against his shoulder naturally, leaving bare the long arch of her neck. Beautiful. She opened her eyes slowly, craning her head around to meet the blue of his eyes for the first time that night.

“And you? What is it that you want, Slayer?”

Buffy hesitated, a split second of indecision, but it was enough for his eyes to darken.

“No.” He interrupted; cutting her off before she could even begin to answer. “I asked what you want. Not what you think you should want, not what you think your friends want you to want. You. What does the Buffy standing here before me, right in this very moment want most?”

A flicker of something shuttered across her eyes—some unnamed emotion that the blond vampire couldn’t decipher—then she straightened and turned in his embrace.

“I want you.” She returned in the same low confident tone Spike had used, before dragging his lips down to hers for a bruising kiss. He let out a small snarl of pleasure as her tongue snaked out to trace his mouth, probing against his lips in a quest to gain entrance, which he readily granted.

Spike’s hands tightened on Buffy’s hips, his finger tips digging into soft skin there as he dragged her closer in order to grind his erection against the mound at the apex of her thighs. Buffy’s small whimper of pleasure filled the air as she pushed back against him desperately, moisture flooding her underpants.

Spike growled again, increasing the already flowing juices between her legs. He backed her up into a darkened corner slowly, pushing her up against the wall firmly.

“Slayer likes a bit of animal in her man, does she?” Spike enquired with a small chuckle as her arousal perfumed the air.

She surprised them both by letting out a realistic growl of her own.

Buffy made no move to stop him when his hand dropped to the button on her pants. It was quickly undone, followed rapidly by the zipper and then his hand was inside her pants. She moaned, panting heavily as he lightly trailed his finger across her nether lips—barely touching her, but touching her enough to make her buck against him and cry out.

“Don’t tease,” she ordered, pulling his mouth back to hers and grinding her herself down against the hand currently occupied in her pants. Obliging her with a wicked grin, he circled her opening once before plunging two fingers up inside her.

“Urgh!” she gasped out shakily against his lips.

Spike let out a muttered “Fuck” as her heat suddenly surrounded his fingers, the virtually untested tightness of her sheath squeezing him tightly as her juices began running down his fingers into the palm of his hand.

A sob of pleasure was torn from her lips. “More.”

Off to the side, Buffy could see the top of the stairs that led up onto the balcony level. Spike and Buffy were encased in the shadows of the club, but they would still be in plain view of anyone who happened to come up the stairs just as she had done earlier that night. Any number of people could catch them. Her friends could walk up at any moment and see them.

Buffy shivered. The thought only made her wetter. The idea of her friends walking up and catching them together, with Spike’s fingers buried deep within her quim and her head thrown back in obvious pleasure.

Spike’s head dropped down to rest against her shoulder and she turned her head into his and groaned into the curls of his hair. His fingers pumped in and out of her rhythmically as she panted in time to what she was feeling.

“Oh God…”

“You’re praising the wrong man, Slayer,” he mumbled with a smug expression that she couldn’t see. His words went straight over her head as he pushed down on her clit with the pad of his thumb.

“Spike!”

He smirked against the skin of her neck. “Better.”

She whimpered loudly in complaint at the sudden loss of his fingers as he withdrew them and sucked them into his mouth. She watched curiously as he dropped to his knees before her, dragging her pants down as he went, before helping her kick one leg off.

“What are—Oh!” All thoughts she had been about to voice fled from the forefront of her mind as she felt him bury his face into the junction of her thighs. She shuddered over him as a wash of pleasure unlike anything she had ever experienced crawled across her skin, igniting her with his cold touch.

She heard voices on the stairs. Her heart rate picked up and a gush of fluids pooled out onto his probing tongue.

“Spike,” she whispered out as she ground herself down into him, body quaking with pleasure as the pad of his thumb pushed down hard over her erect nubbin once more.

She gripped his shoulders harshly and pulled him up to her level, slamming her lips down over his. She jumped up to curl her legs around his waist, reaching down between them as she unzipped his pants quickly and pulled him out. Spike groaned at the feel of her hot little hand on him. Lining the head of his cock up with the opening of her quim, her hand quickly left his hardness to curl around his neck.

Growling, he thrust up into her harshly, groaning loudly at the overwhelming feeling of her almost virgin-tight tunnel. The thought blew his control to smithereens and Spike began pumping into her rapidly, moving her further up the wall with each thrust.

“Oh! God! Spike! Argh!” she panted breathlessly in his ear as she clamped her muscles down around him. “Bite me!”

He wasted no time morphing into his demon face before plunging his fangs into her neck as he continued to pump into her. Buffy opened her eyes as he took the first pull of blood, her gaze turning in the direction of the stairway once more as she felt eyes on them, watching them. Her eyes locked and held with the shocked and aroused gaze of one Xander Harris. Surprisingly, the thought of him watching her didn’t bother her as much as she might have once thought it would and Xander could do nothing but stare helplessly at them as Spike pounded into the girl of his dreams.

Xander watched the myriad of emotions cross over her face as she stared straight back at him while moaning and withering all over Spike’s cock. He felt himself harden—he could do nothing to prevent it. Buffy gave him a heated, almost challenging stare as she clutched the vampire to her neck. Spike’s bite was clearly bringing her anything but pain.

Xander knew the exact moment she came, it was the moment her eyebrows drew together in a sweet form of agony, as the breathy exhale was pushed from her lips, when she turned her flushed cheek into Spike’s head and gently held the top of the vampire’s ear between her teeth. It was when he helplessly came in his own pants. But even more than all that, it what when Spike drew back and growled ‘mine’ followed by a passionate ‘yours’ in response from Buffy—something that although Xander didn’t understand, he knew had some importance—and he knew the game was up. Buffy would never be his.

He watched as they engaged in a heated kiss, unable to tear his gaze away even when Buffy pushed Spike’s duster from his shoulders and he was gifted with a glimpse of the pussy he had dreamed about from the moment he had met her completely engulfing another man’s cock. He could see their combined fluids running down her legs as they untangled themselves gently and began touching and kissing each other.

Turning quickly, Xander made his way back down the stairs and across to the first girl he saw. Thankfully one he knew from school. He made his way to Anya Jenkins and pulled her after him into a nearby closet.

“Xander?”

“I’m losing my virginity with you right now in this closet. I want to fuck until our combined juices have nowhere else to go but down your thighs.” The teen stated boldly, unable to get the picture of Buffy and Spike out of his head. “Is that okay with you?”

“Oh!” She said with a big smile. “More than okay! Shall we get started?”


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AN: Sucky title, I know. Anyway, I thought I'd try something short to help jump start the muse a bit. I'm aware the time line is a little bit wonky, but what the hell, right? Let me know what you think :) Thanks to Slackerace for the beta.