Ticklish Slayer
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Title: Trust Me
Author: Ticklish Slayer
Summary: Buffy puts Spike's weakness to her advantage. Set after Gone, but before As You Were.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the fic you see before you. If you're planning on sueing me, too frickin' bad, 'cause I ain't making money off of this. Nyah! Characters are property of my beloved Joss Whedon. -petpet-
He was running his tongue up the side of her neck when Buffy decided to teach him a lesson.
There was something about the way that Spike was growling against her skin that just irked her off beyond belief; it was like he was a dog, some kind of predator claiming her as his own. He was always so cocky anyway, but this was the last straw. He nipped at her neck and snarled again; she inhaled sharply, unable to repress the surge of pleasure that shot through her. It pissed her off even more that he could do this to her, that he could make her feel these things. She was the Slayer, dammit, the fucking Slayer -- but Spike had control over her, and she knew it.
Time for the tables to turn.
Buffy placed her hands gently on his shoulders and pushed him back, fixing her face with an innocent stare.
"Do you trust me?" she whispered. Spike stared at her like she was crazy, then quickly composed himself. She supposed he didn't want to waste any time with games -- the hard-on in his jeans was going to need tending to very soon. Whatever it takes to get in my pants, Buffy thought, and felt the anger in her chest flare up again.
"Well, yeah," he said in a husky voice, and slowly rocked forward, grinding his hips hard against hers. She tried to repress a gasp and couldn't. This only fed the little fire of resentment that had sprung to life since he started to growl. " 'Course I trust you, love." Buffy's lips curled into a small, devilish smile as she slowly ran her hands down his bare chest, then back up to his neck. It made her satisfied to feel him shiver beneath her palms.
"Then close your eyes," she purred. Spike's face briefly clouded over with an expression of doubt; when she bent her head and traced a path slowly up his chest with her tongue, he squirmed pleasurably and obediently closed his eyes. Buffy looked him over for a brief moment. His mouth was curled up into that cocky half-smirk, one that suggested he was expecting quite a treat for being so good. Not quite, she thought, and grinned.
She searched the room briefly and found some conveniently placed manacles. He was waiting patiently as she set them up on his bed, fastening them securely to the posts. Buffy cracked open one of the cuffs, shot him a glance, and caught him with one eye open.
"Eyes closed," she said sternly, and Spike's eyelid snapped shut.
"Game of bondage, pet?" he asked in amusement as she carefully clicked the manacles around his wrists.
"You bet," Buffy murmured. She made sure his arms were stretched tightly above his head, then slowly spread her legs to straddle his hips. Spike's hard-on was straining at his jeans and his breath was shallow. He was obviously very turned on; she smirked at his discomfort and slowly leaned forward, brushing her lips against his ear. "Still trust me?" Spike arched his back at the closeness.
"Cor, love, what's the catch?"
"No catch," Buffy murmured, reaching to the bedside table and grabbing something to tuck in the back of her jeans. It was a lie -- of course there was a catch. She had discovered something quite surprising when she was invisible. Undetected, it had been easy to catch Spike off his guard during (and before) sex; since he couldn't see her hands, it made it hard to anticipate her touch. So when Xander came in, she wanted to have some fun. Buffy had nibbled on Spike's various parts to drive him wild. It had worked, too -- Spike was squirming and having trouble concentrating on his conversation with Xander. She was having a ball, so she brought her hands into play too. She gently brushed her fingertips slowly over his body, down his back and around his neck. When her fingers reached his sides and stomach, his body had immediately tensed; Spike had let out a strangled laugh and blindly pushed her away. In that simple action, he had doomed himself -- Spike was ticklish, and now she knew it.
"What sort of game are we playing, pet?" he asked in a tone of dry amusement. Buffy gave him a small, mischevious smile, and Spike seemed to sense it was not a game he was going to enjoy; he tensed just a little.
"It's called 'How Long Does It Take To Break A Cocky Vampire'," she crooned, placing her hands on his sides, "or 'Spike's In Some Deep Shit'." His brows met in a confused frown, then shot up as Buffy's fingers moved down his sides, scrabbling softly at the contours of his ribs.
"Ah -- AH --" Spike made an odd groaning noise as he tried first to stretch back, then twist away from her hands, but he didn't have enough leverage to avoid her fingers.
"What's wrong, Spike?" Buffy asked innocently, her nails scratching lightly at the tender skin just below his ribs. "Is the the self-proclaimed Big Bad ticklish?" She paused to smirk down at his strained expression. It was quite obvious he was very ticklish, but much too proud to laugh. She planned to break him very quickly.
"Buffy?" he said breathlessly, obviously confused.
"Don't talk," she reprimanded, and attacked his stomach again. Spike's pale face went red as he held his breath in an attempt to conceal laughter; Buffy was undaunted, because whenever she hit a tender spot the corners of his mouth tried to jerk into a smile. He held out for a good two minutes before she pulled her hands from his body and hid them behind her back. "Still trust me, Spike?" she purred.
"Slayer, this isn't funny," Spike growled. It was his chance to appear tough again, but the weak facade just made Buffy want to roll her eyes. "Let's just shag and get it over with --"
"There will be no shagging until I've had my fun," she stated firmly, and pulled the object out of the back of her jeans where she'd tucked it. It was a black bandanna.
"What's that for?" Spike sounded slightly cautious; she smiled and slowly leaned forward.
"I want to be invisible again," Buffy whispered, and promptly placed it over his eyes, tying it around his head before he could even protest. She sat back to admire her work; Spike's arms were above his head, there was a blindfold over his eyes, and he was thrashing and cursing for all he was worth.
Time for the fun to begin.
**More to come soon... feedback, please! Any requests or suggestions?**
Author: Ticklish Slayer
Summary: Buffy puts Spike's weakness to her advantage. Set after Gone, but before As You Were.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the fic you see before you. If you're planning on sueing me, too frickin' bad, 'cause I ain't making money off of this. Nyah! Characters are property of my beloved Joss Whedon. -petpet-
He was running his tongue up the side of her neck when Buffy decided to teach him a lesson.
There was something about the way that Spike was growling against her skin that just irked her off beyond belief; it was like he was a dog, some kind of predator claiming her as his own. He was always so cocky anyway, but this was the last straw. He nipped at her neck and snarled again; she inhaled sharply, unable to repress the surge of pleasure that shot through her. It pissed her off even more that he could do this to her, that he could make her feel these things. She was the Slayer, dammit, the fucking Slayer -- but Spike had control over her, and she knew it.
Time for the tables to turn.
Buffy placed her hands gently on his shoulders and pushed him back, fixing her face with an innocent stare.
"Do you trust me?" she whispered. Spike stared at her like she was crazy, then quickly composed himself. She supposed he didn't want to waste any time with games -- the hard-on in his jeans was going to need tending to very soon. Whatever it takes to get in my pants, Buffy thought, and felt the anger in her chest flare up again.
"Well, yeah," he said in a husky voice, and slowly rocked forward, grinding his hips hard against hers. She tried to repress a gasp and couldn't. This only fed the little fire of resentment that had sprung to life since he started to growl. " 'Course I trust you, love." Buffy's lips curled into a small, devilish smile as she slowly ran her hands down his bare chest, then back up to his neck. It made her satisfied to feel him shiver beneath her palms.
"Then close your eyes," she purred. Spike's face briefly clouded over with an expression of doubt; when she bent her head and traced a path slowly up his chest with her tongue, he squirmed pleasurably and obediently closed his eyes. Buffy looked him over for a brief moment. His mouth was curled up into that cocky half-smirk, one that suggested he was expecting quite a treat for being so good. Not quite, she thought, and grinned.
She searched the room briefly and found some conveniently placed manacles. He was waiting patiently as she set them up on his bed, fastening them securely to the posts. Buffy cracked open one of the cuffs, shot him a glance, and caught him with one eye open.
"Eyes closed," she said sternly, and Spike's eyelid snapped shut.
"Game of bondage, pet?" he asked in amusement as she carefully clicked the manacles around his wrists.
"You bet," Buffy murmured. She made sure his arms were stretched tightly above his head, then slowly spread her legs to straddle his hips. Spike's hard-on was straining at his jeans and his breath was shallow. He was obviously very turned on; she smirked at his discomfort and slowly leaned forward, brushing her lips against his ear. "Still trust me?" Spike arched his back at the closeness.
"Cor, love, what's the catch?"
"No catch," Buffy murmured, reaching to the bedside table and grabbing something to tuck in the back of her jeans. It was a lie -- of course there was a catch. She had discovered something quite surprising when she was invisible. Undetected, it had been easy to catch Spike off his guard during (and before) sex; since he couldn't see her hands, it made it hard to anticipate her touch. So when Xander came in, she wanted to have some fun. Buffy had nibbled on Spike's various parts to drive him wild. It had worked, too -- Spike was squirming and having trouble concentrating on his conversation with Xander. She was having a ball, so she brought her hands into play too. She gently brushed her fingertips slowly over his body, down his back and around his neck. When her fingers reached his sides and stomach, his body had immediately tensed; Spike had let out a strangled laugh and blindly pushed her away. In that simple action, he had doomed himself -- Spike was ticklish, and now she knew it.
"What sort of game are we playing, pet?" he asked in a tone of dry amusement. Buffy gave him a small, mischevious smile, and Spike seemed to sense it was not a game he was going to enjoy; he tensed just a little.
"It's called 'How Long Does It Take To Break A Cocky Vampire'," she crooned, placing her hands on his sides, "or 'Spike's In Some Deep Shit'." His brows met in a confused frown, then shot up as Buffy's fingers moved down his sides, scrabbling softly at the contours of his ribs.
"Ah -- AH --" Spike made an odd groaning noise as he tried first to stretch back, then twist away from her hands, but he didn't have enough leverage to avoid her fingers.
"What's wrong, Spike?" Buffy asked innocently, her nails scratching lightly at the tender skin just below his ribs. "Is the the self-proclaimed Big Bad ticklish?" She paused to smirk down at his strained expression. It was quite obvious he was very ticklish, but much too proud to laugh. She planned to break him very quickly.
"Buffy?" he said breathlessly, obviously confused.
"Don't talk," she reprimanded, and attacked his stomach again. Spike's pale face went red as he held his breath in an attempt to conceal laughter; Buffy was undaunted, because whenever she hit a tender spot the corners of his mouth tried to jerk into a smile. He held out for a good two minutes before she pulled her hands from his body and hid them behind her back. "Still trust me, Spike?" she purred.
"Slayer, this isn't funny," Spike growled. It was his chance to appear tough again, but the weak facade just made Buffy want to roll her eyes. "Let's just shag and get it over with --"
"There will be no shagging until I've had my fun," she stated firmly, and pulled the object out of the back of her jeans where she'd tucked it. It was a black bandanna.
"What's that for?" Spike sounded slightly cautious; she smiled and slowly leaned forward.
"I want to be invisible again," Buffy whispered, and promptly placed it over his eyes, tying it around his head before he could even protest. She sat back to admire her work; Spike's arms were above his head, there was a blindfold over his eyes, and he was thrashing and cursing for all he was worth.
Time for the fun to begin.
**More to come soon... feedback, please! Any requests or suggestions?**
