Demonic Bliss

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Demonic Bliss
by garnigal
Post season – NC-17

Based on Domestic Bliss by enigmaticblues


It arced through the air, droplets flying from it to glint in the amber glow of streetlights. Hitting the ground with a dull thud, the head rolled awkwardly to stop against his boot.

But he didn’t really notice; not like a decapitated head was much of a concern.

She was just so fucking gorgeous.

He leaned against the wall, his sword held loosely at his side and hidden by a fold of his coat. They’d both prepared for this fight, arming themselves with long blades as well as the usual stakes, but so far he was unneeded in the brawl. He’d thought that might be the case. Buffy’d been spoiling for a good battle for weeks. Training the girls, normal patrol runs and even sparring with him (and the post sparring tussle of another sort) wasn’t enough to scratch that itch under her skin that made her the Slayer.

She’d needed to kill something.

She’d needed to slash and cut and stab and decapitate.

She’d needed to risk her bloody neck, apparently.

She’d taken out two already, but had managed to get backed against the wall, facing down two tall, brown, and wrinkly demons, barely keeping them at bay with clever sword work. But she was totally unaware of the third demon perched atop the brick fence, ready to come down from above.

He’d not let anything happen to his girl.

It was a lovely bit of work, he’d quite impressed himself. He’d leapt over the two demons facing Buffy, taking a slice out of one on the way by, before landing on the top of the wall and facing down the third. It was a matter of just a few moments to slice and dice that one before he jumped down to fight beside Buffy.

Of course, those few moments were all Buffy needed to dispose of her opponents and turn on Spike.

“I didn’t need your help, Spike! I had everything under control.” Her eyes flashed with anger, her crossed arms showing her displeasure.

Everything about her screamed ‘I want to kill something, and you seem to be handy.’

Naturally, that made him hard as stone. Naturally, Buffy noticed instantly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake. Are you kidding me right now? We’re here, in the middle of a fight,”

“After the fight, actually, love.” Spike tried to adjust his position inconspicuously, but her glance at his crotch made it clear that he hadn’t been subtle. He’d seen anger in her eyes before, this was pure fury.

Well, maybe not pure fury.

She grabbed his belt and pulled him to her. Thier lips crashed, even as she pushed him far enough away to undo his belt buckle and fly. He buried his hands in her hair, feeling the sweat and grime from the exertion of the fight with the demons.

She felt like steel, like power and violence.

She felt like the Slayer.

She felt like his.

He’d meant to let her take the lead, let her work out the last of her aggression in a more sensual fashion. But apparently his demon needed this just as badly as hers did, as his fangs came to the fore and he flipped around to push her against the wall and fumble at her belt and fly as she’d fumbled at his only moments before.

He loved her, and she loved him. They’d been surprised by how well they’d gotten on together, sharing a bed, and even more challenging, closet and refrigerator space. They’d had their battles; different standards of tidiness, the pinpricks of jealousy. But they muddled on together, working their way through. Just like any other couple, they got through their work days, business trips, and settled in for some telly and a snack, then fell into bed, mostly to cuddle and sleep.

It was a wonderful life. Something he’d always dreamed of having, a life she’d always wanted.

But there was more to them than just Buffy and Spike. They had to keep the Slayer and the vampire happy too, and sometimes domestic bliss just didn’t cut it.

Sometimes, they needed to let their demons play.

Neither of them were fully naked, but all the important bits were available, so he slid into her hot depths with no further ado. She growled at the abrupt intrusion, but her hands slid down to his ass and pulled him closer; pulled him deeper.

He roared in return, lifting her and pistoning into her. Her hands had been roaming over his muscles under his coat, but now she keened and drove her nails through his shirt into his back.

As soon as his skin broke, he was done for. His hips stuttered, losing rhythm as he reached the apex.

Fortunately, she was right with him, clenching around him and biting her lip to keep her wail of pleasure behind her teeth. They collapsed together, her panting against his chest while he used the wall to keep them both upright.

Footsteps from the other side of the wall brought them back to themselves, and they pulled apart to refasten buttons, belts and zippers.

Buffy laughed, a low dirty sound, as she collected their swords from where they’d fallen, ignored during both fighting and fucking.

“I’d originally planned to bring the girls out with me tonight, you know. Get them some experience fighting as a team, against something different than vampires. But one look in your eyes, and I’d known you needed a night to let your less housebroken sides run free. I just hadn’t realized how badly I’d needed it too.”

“It’s all bliss with you love. Both domestic and demonic.”

“Oh Spike, you do say the nicest things,” she laughed, wiping her sword on the hem of his shirt.

“Oi! That’s my shirt! Use your own!”

“Which one of us does laundry? I’ll use what I want, thanks.”

Their voices faded into the dark, still arguing, still loving.

Still hand in hand.

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