Lingerie
folder
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
5,237
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
5,237
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
4 (s/x)
Buffy's POV
OH. MY. GOD.
Ohmygod! It’s Spike, and he’s…he’s…
In some remote corner of the galaxy she hears Xander’s voice, but it’s so muddled she can’t make it out.
He’s… …
That is so wrong. Wrong and disgusting and wrong and, and wrong and SICK! Yes! It’s sick and gross and she can’t believe that he’s…
He draws the sheer wrap tightly around himself, cinching the belt in a loose knot.
Yeah. That helped. If she were a blind Tibetan monk.
She blinks – the first movement she’s made in eight minutes – and wonders how she could have possibly missed the fact that it was only a few shades darker than his eyes. She had picked that shade because it set off her tan, but she’d be damned if it didn’t look incredibly... sick…against dead, evil, soulless flesh that hadn’t seen the sun in over a century (minus a day). It was…so…wrong. For Christ’s sake, his manly boob muscles really filled it out - well. How gross was that? And in what freakish alternate universe is Spike allowed to have legs like that? Smooth aneamyeamy, like her mother’s china set – the one she was never allowed to play with that was now missing three plates, a saucer, and a cup that Dawn had broken when she was seven – from that disgusting hollow in his hip, all. the. way. down. to his heels. Heels…wow…sick. And was that her new nail polish??
“You…you…insufferable…undead…moronic…stupid…Toth!” She hurled the bag she had been carrying at that bleached freak’s head, and the sexy new teddy, the one she’d saved for weeks to buy, the one she was supposed to wear tonight while Dawn was at Janice’s and her Mom was out of town at a show, the one that was the SAME DAMN ONE SPIKE WAS WEARING, fell to the floor.
Wide-eyed and panting, she glared into those damn questioning blue eyes. Her vision flickered to the pool of blue silk on the floor. She couldn’t wear it now; she didn’t have the legs for it.
“Keep it, you pig! You can wear it tomorrow, Xander’s just gonna rip that one off you later anyway!”
Huffing, she stomped out the door.
“You wanna tell ‘er it’s not my size, or shall I?”
“Can you take it back and exchange it for your size?”
“Yeah, why?”
“’Cause I think the Buffster had a damn good idea.”
OH. MY. GOD.
Ohmygod! It’s Spike, and he’s…he’s…
In some remote corner of the galaxy she hears Xander’s voice, but it’s so muddled she can’t make it out.
He’s… …
That is so wrong. Wrong and disgusting and wrong and, and wrong and SICK! Yes! It’s sick and gross and she can’t believe that he’s…
He draws the sheer wrap tightly around himself, cinching the belt in a loose knot.
Yeah. That helped. If she were a blind Tibetan monk.
She blinks – the first movement she’s made in eight minutes – and wonders how she could have possibly missed the fact that it was only a few shades darker than his eyes. She had picked that shade because it set off her tan, but she’d be damned if it didn’t look incredibly... sick…against dead, evil, soulless flesh that hadn’t seen the sun in over a century (minus a day). It was…so…wrong. For Christ’s sake, his manly boob muscles really filled it out - well. How gross was that? And in what freakish alternate universe is Spike allowed to have legs like that? Smooth aneamyeamy, like her mother’s china set – the one she was never allowed to play with that was now missing three plates, a saucer, and a cup that Dawn had broken when she was seven – from that disgusting hollow in his hip, all. the. way. down. to his heels. Heels…wow…sick. And was that her new nail polish??
“You…you…insufferable…undead…moronic…stupid…Toth!” She hurled the bag she had been carrying at that bleached freak’s head, and the sexy new teddy, the one she’d saved for weeks to buy, the one she was supposed to wear tonight while Dawn was at Janice’s and her Mom was out of town at a show, the one that was the SAME DAMN ONE SPIKE WAS WEARING, fell to the floor.
Wide-eyed and panting, she glared into those damn questioning blue eyes. Her vision flickered to the pool of blue silk on the floor. She couldn’t wear it now; she didn’t have the legs for it.
“Keep it, you pig! You can wear it tomorrow, Xander’s just gonna rip that one off you later anyway!”
Huffing, she stomped out the door.
“You wanna tell ‘er it’s not my size, or shall I?”
“Can you take it back and exchange it for your size?”
“Yeah, why?”
“’Cause I think the Buffster had a damn good idea.”