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FICLET: Reprise
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rahirah wrote B/A. The internets are going to implode. Spuffy fen will disown her. Get me a bowl of ice cream as I watch apocalypse. And post Spuffy smut (she called me out).
Reprise
Spuffy, NC-17, post NFA, snippet
Well there's grace, and then there's grace, and then there's fire. Spike thinks this might be all three, because his hand is fisted in her hair, her thighs are open over his, and she keeps taking him higher. The mutilation she rewarded with a kiss, the sensational spark that was supposed to make him man again, the final revelation in which he became her burning brand--he hadn't done it to give her anything. Not her sister, not his soul, not some peace of mind at the end when it was too late. He'd done it for himself; he was thieving definition from the flames. He was doing it again in her. In her tight, wet spaces, mouth and cunt; in his fingers finding the hollows along her scapula, the crevice down her ass; in the way she touched his face, knowingly. It was the same.
"I love you." It was a breath she dragged by his ear, a feminine grunt and a demand. He began to fall apart. "No," she said; she held him down and fucked him. "You're coming with me. I mean it this time. I really do."
He knew that that was true, because she was burning too. They would be destroyed, conquered, nothing at the end of it, and bigger, stronger, more themselves because of it.
rahirah wrote B/A. The internets are going to implode. Spuffy fen will disown her. Get me a bowl of ice cream as I watch apocalypse. And post Spuffy smut (she called me out).Reprise
Spuffy, NC-17, post NFA, snippet
Well there's grace, and then there's grace, and then there's fire. Spike thinks this might be all three, because his hand is fisted in her hair, her thighs are open over his, and she keeps taking him higher. The mutilation she rewarded with a kiss, the sensational spark that was supposed to make him man again, the final revelation in which he became her burning brand--he hadn't done it to give her anything. Not her sister, not his soul, not some peace of mind at the end when it was too late. He'd done it for himself; he was thieving definition from the flames. He was doing it again in her. In her tight, wet spaces, mouth and cunt; in his fingers finding the hollows along her scapula, the crevice down her ass; in the way she touched his face, knowingly. It was the same.
"I love you." It was a breath she dragged by his ear, a feminine grunt and a demand. He began to fall apart. "No," she said; she held him down and fucked him. "You're coming with me. I mean it this time. I really do."
He knew that that was true, because she was burning too. They would be destroyed, conquered, nothing at the end of it, and bigger, stronger, more themselves because of it.
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