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| a.connor a.doyle a.lindsey a.oz a.spike a.wesley a.xander a.other three.somes het.fic character.study |
| Title: Vicarious: The Buffy-in-the-Mix Remix Author: Lynne Pairing: Buffy/Angel/Spike Rating: NC-17 Setting: Some vague point in the future, post-"Not Fade Away." “It’s a bit tight on you,” Spike observed. Angel didn’t mind. The view from where he was, lying on the bed, was one of the best he’d seen in recent memory. The way the straps bit slightly into the cheeks of Buffy’s ass, the way the huge dildo looked protruding from her curvy hips – she was a porno fantasy come to life. “Liked your old one better,” Spike continued, as he helped Buffy adjust the strap-on. Then he looked at Angel and grinned, wicked smile full of memories and secrets. “Had a place for her vibrator. Could get herself off while she was getting me off.” “Like I want her using the same sex toy on both of us,” Angel growled. Spike scoffed. “Not like you’d catch anything. Sides, you’ve been covered in every one of my bodily fluids at one time or another.” “Ew. Spike, stop being gross,” Buffy chided. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get me off later.” Then she knelt on the bed. She turned her eyes on Angel, and they narrowed like a demon’s. “After I’m finished with you.” Angel felt a shiver run up his spine, all the way to his fingers. His wrists chafed against the cold metal biting into them. “Do we really need these?” He rattled the handcuffs against the headboard. His eyes lingered on her naked breasts, her soft, tanned skin. “I wanna touch you,” he whispered. “Touching later,” Buffy scolded, running her finger along the underside of Angel’s arm. He shivered again at the soft caress. “Whenever Spike fucks you, you always end up wrestling with him or flipping him over or being Mr. Bossy Bottom.” Buffy leaned in for a kiss, petal-pink tongue soft in Angel’s mouth. Her hair fell against his neck, satin ribbons caressing his skin. “I want you,” kiss, “to lay it all down,” kiss, “and just feel it.” Angel closed his eyes. “Okay,” he breathed. “Okay.” Buffy leaned back, smile dazzling like sunshine. “Spike.” Her long, perfectly manicured fingernails traced circles on Angel’s chest as she spoke. “Why don’t you tell Angel about the first time we did this?” Angel watched Spike prowl up behind Buffy, predatory gaze trained on them both. A hundred years, Angel had seen that look flare to life in blue eyes, and it never failed to make his dick hard, make his own eyes narrow in kind. Spike nuzzled into the side of Buffy’s neck, pressed his naked body against her back. His hands slid up to caress her breasts. See? This is the reward you get for doing what you’re told. Good boys get to touch. Angel had always wanted to be good for her. “Was back in Sunnydale,” Spike began, pulled-taffy voice stretching along Angel’s spine. Spike’s hands slid down over Buffy’s ribcage, down to her waist, over her hips. His fingers disappeared inside her and Angel watched as her eyes closed, as her lips parted. Christ, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “She showed up in my crypt with this hot little pink number.” Spike’s hand gave a small thrust, and Buffy gasped. “Where’d you get that thing, anyway?” A flirty smile spread over Buffy’s face. “There might have been some rifling through one of Anya’s catalogues.” Spike grinned, nipped at Buffy’s ear. “My dirty girl.” Buffy leaned forward, let the full length of her body settle over Angel’s. Her nipples pressed tight against his chest, while she ground the dildo against his dick. “How’s that feel?” Buffy asked. “Feels kinda like you, Spike.” Angel smirked over Buffy’s shoulder. “Only bigger.” Spike rolled his eyes at him. “Wanker.” Buffy ground the strap-on harder against him, and this time Angel couldn’t keep a breath of air from escaping. “How about now?” she asked. Angel could only groan. Buffy’s self-satisfied grin looked altogether too much like Spike’s. Which only made him groan again. One of these days, Angel would figure out how to stop being so fucking predictable. “You’re so predictable,” Buffy giggled. “Buffy—” “Shhhh.” She laid a finger across Angel’s lips. Slid down his body, laying kisses all along the way. “Spike, please continue the story of seduction.” “Right.” Spike laid himself down beside Angel. Let his voice melt into Angel’s ear. “So I help her into this marvelous contraption, and she asks me if I’ve ever done this before.” Buffy’s lips were at Angel’s hips, now, swirling small circles around his cock but never quite touching. “Course, at that point, she wasn’t ready to hear about all the times you buggered me senseless. And I didn’t fancy telling her about the times Dru buggered me with whatever she could lay her hands on, including an elephant tusk.” “Ouch,” Angel and Buffy both said in sympathy. “You said it, pet. So, me being evil at the time, I said, No, Buffy. I’ve never done this before.” “Little shit,” Angel muttered. Buffy’s fingers twisted his balls. “Hush,” she commanded, and Angel did. “So,” Spike continued, “she takes her sweet time with me, getting me good and ready for my ‘first time.’ She lifts up my legs,” and Angel found himself wriggling on the bed as Buffy’s actions began to follow the narrative, “and bloody dives in with her tongue, slicking me up good and proper.” “Jesus, Buffy,” Angel moaned. Buffy’s mouth was busy turning him into a puddle, but she twisted his balls again. Angel winced. “Hush up, pet. Lady said to stay quiet. So she stays there for what feels like hours, till I’m moaning and whimpering. Then she takes her fingers,” and Angel could feel the scratch of Buffy’s nails where her tongue had been, “and shoves them up inside me.” A sharp intake of breath, as Buffy’s fingers started stretching him. Her hands were so small, and yet they could open him like nothing else. “She’s never done this before either,” Spike said, “so she’s asking me, ‘Do I press here? How about here?’ And she keeps moving her fingers around until…” “There,” Angel nearly shouted as his hips bucked up off the mattress, his cock slick and wet and stone-stiff against his belly. “Oh god, Buffy, right there.” Spike leered at him. “Yeah. Just like that.” Buffy withdrew her fingers, crawled up Angel’s body. For someone so small, it was amazing the way she loomed over him, eyes and hair shining, wielding her silicone cock in front of her like a weapon. Buffy’s hands rested against Angel’s knees, pushed them back till they were nearly around his ears. His bones creaked. “He’s not nearly as bendy as you are,” she said to Spike. “He’s old,” Spike countered. “Needs to loosen up.” And he helped Buffy spread Angel’s legs wide while she got into position. “Then she stops playing nice.” Spike’s voice dropped like falling down a well. “Takes this huge dick, twice as big as yours, and shoves it in hard.” “Christ!” Stars burst behind Angel’s eyelids as she thrust, all her Slayer strength plowing him into the mattress. Electricity zinged through him everywhere, toes to fingertips, his balls tingling, his cock slapping against his stomach muscles as she thrust in and out. “Angel, look at me.” Buffy's voice was positively feral. Angel looked, and felt stripped bare. “Does it feel like this when Spike fucks you?” Angel shook his head. Nothing had ever felt like this; letting Buffy take him over. Surrendering himself to this woman for whom he would do (had done) anything. Live and love and die at her command. But he kept those words inside, a desperate effort to keep body and soul together. Instead he said, “You’re lighter. But stronger.” And at that, Buffy smiled and thrust even harder. Angel yelped, a wolf submitting to the pack leader. “Nothing like it, is there, pet?” Spike murmured, voice thick with admiration. “Letting her take charge. Rolling over and showing your belly to her. She’s fucking glorious.” Buffy’s hair fell into her eyes, her breasts bounced as she moved, and Angel couldn’t agree more. “Buffy,” he breathed. “Please.” He didn’t even know what he was asking for. “I told you to hush,” Buffy chided. And she clamped a hand down over Angel’s mouth. Oh, god. “Don’t have to be a hero with her,” Spike whispered in his ear. “Can just be her pretty little toy.” Oh, god. Buffy’s other hand wrapped around Angel’s dick, and her grip was tight and her fingers were hot and he could feel her thrusting inside him further than anything or anyone ever had and Buffy Buffy oh shit Buffy fuck Angel screamed her name behind her hand as he came, cock pulsing again and again. His ass was burning, his legs cramping, she was tearing him up inside and still it went on. When he finally collapsed, his chest was covered in his own spunk and every muscle was a limp, useless weight. He felt wrung out, floating, and dangerously contented. He could hear the sounds of Buffy and Spike kissing, but he couldn’t even open his eyes to watch. “I think he’s about ready for you,” Buffy said. Angel opened his eyes at that. “For him?” Buffy nodded. “You’re looking way too happy right now, Mister. So Spike gets a turn, and I get to watch. And you,” she ran one fingernail through the mess on Angel’s chest, “are gonna do exactly what he tells you to do.” Angel struggled against the handcuffs. “Buffy, wait…” But she moved away, and Spike settled between Angel’s legs. “Necessary evil, pet. Can’t let you get too cozy.” He grinned, a little boy pulling the legs off spiders. “But don’t worry. You’ve come to the right demon.” Angel sighed, and let his head flop back against the pillow. Family. If there was one thing they could always count on each other for, it was punishment. -End Feedback |