Sins Series
folder
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Spike(William)/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
6,118
Reviews:
29
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Spike(William)/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
6,118
Reviews:
29
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.
Sins 4-- Greed
Title: Greed
Author: Tisienne Blue
Sequel to: Envy, Pride, Anger
Series: Sins (#4)
Rating: NC-17, I guess, for language and some not terribly graphic sex... just to be on the safe side.
Summary: Now that Xander’s secret is at least partly out to Spike, how does the former Scooby react?
P.O.V.: Xander’s
* * * * * * * * *
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
And… can I say fuck again?
Fuck.
He knows something. Spike knows something. Or he thinks he does. That’s the only reason I can think of for him to be acting like this.
It’s… not okay. If I weren’t so… dirty… maybe I wouldn’t mind. Wouldn’t mind that he’s still holding me, even hours after I fell apart and dripped tears and snot all over his coat. Wouldn’t mind the strange peace of his arms around me, his chin on my shoulder if I didn’t know just how much I don’t deserve his comfort… his care.
Fuck. I swore I wouldn’t let myself want him. I swore it! And I didn’t. I didn’t want him! I just… wanted him to believe I was okay so he would…
Shit. I can’t even lie to myself anymore.
I want him.
I won’t have him, though. I can’t. Not when I don’t know what it would do to him.
I could… Fuck, Spike’s a vampire. With a soul.
I’m a human… no matter what the things I’ve done make me feel like. Also soul-having, supposedly.
And that’s the problem. How could I do what I did to Shayna and Wave? I shouldn’t have… it wasn’t my place!
And Spike knows I’m a monster. I told him. Told him and told him and he didn’t…
‘Sometimes… takes a monster ta kill a monster, luv,’ he said last night, and God I want to believe him. I want to think that maybe there’s some purpose to what I’ve become… some big, good reason for what I did.
But there isn’t. I’m just… evil. I must be. How else could I have… killed… someone I loved?
Someone I thought I loved… maybe I didn’t?
Hell, I don’t know.
I know when I followed them, Slayer and Watcher, I thought… God, I know what I thought they’d been sneaking off to do, but when I found them…
Fuck.
I lost it. I lost it and it felt good, it felt right and I wanted… needed… to finish it. Finish them. I needed to… stop them. Stop the whimpers and moans, stop the looks and the horror in my own mind… and I…
God, fucking help me, God, if you’ll even listen to something like me!
I did it and it was… easy.
They were still shocked that I was there when I did it. They didn’t even fight back.
I didn’t give them the chance.
I don’t want to remember anymore. I don’t want to… see it. But I do. I see it every time I close my eyes, see it even when I’m awake.
I stare at the ceiling and I see them dying.
I look in the mirror and I see… the blood.
God, how can Spike even stand to touch me? How can he not feel the… evil?
But he doesn’t. He must not because if he did, he wouldn’t be here, wouldn’t be curled behind me, his chest to my spine.
His hands wouldn’t be hard but soft, cool but hot on my skin.
His lips wouldn’t be pressed to the back of my neck and he wouldn’t be doing something that sounds and feels like purring.
I… want him. But I can’t have him. I can’t!
I… I have to tell him. Have to make him see. He can’t go on doing this; I can’t keep resisting temptation.
Hell, he is temptation and I’m only human and… am I even human anymore? Would a human have…
Christ, I’m so fucked up.
But his hands are still on my skin and he’s pressed against my back and he’s hard, which he never is in the morning, and God this is bizarre. He… he can’t be turned on because I’m a monster, can he?
“S-spike…” I finally say, not looking over my shoulder at him, not trying to see him, because if I see him I won’t be able to say what I have to say and… “Wh-what are you doing…?”
“Hush,” he says, his fingers flexing on my skin as his lips move to my shoulder. “Let me do this, luv… show ya how ta live again, yah…?”
‘No, Spike… don’t touch me, don’t care, don’t let me make you dirty and worthless, you’re too good for this…’ I want to say all that and more, but his hands… his lips… God, his tongue is… and I find myself saying none of those things. I find myself nodding instead. “Y-yeah…”
* * * * *
God help me… God, please help me…
“God…” is all I manage to get out, my head falling back on his shoulder, eye closing tightly while his hands stroke and skim, fingers plucking softly—too damned softly—at my skin…
I can feel him inside me, where only Wave’s ever been before and it’s good, it’s right, it’s…
Maybe Spike can wash him away, flush him from me, take away the… hate.
I thought I loved him, thought he was it… thought he was mine and how stupid was that? Nobody would ever want to be mine. I know that now.
I must have had it in me all along… the desperate killer, the… darkness. It was always there, must have been, and I was so lucky for so long that nobody noticed, nobody saw, or I thought they didn’t but they must have because if they never knew…
“Thinkin’ too much, luv,” he murmurs, hips shifting while he presses himself deep again, and the pain of it makes me shudder even while the pleasure builds higher… higher… too high… don’t deserve this, shouldn’t feel this good, not with what I am, what I did, how I liked it, and…
“C-can’t stop,” I hear myself admitting, and God, I don’t know if he thinks I mean I can’t stop my thoughts or can’t stop moaning every time he’s deep in me, every time he pulls back, every time he rubs against that spot inside me that’s making me shiver around him.
I want him to hurt me. Need him to hurt me. I deserve to be punished, broken, torn… and that’s exactly what he’s not doing.
No, he’s… God, it’s almost like he’s…
And I can’t even think it, can’t let myself believe that it could be anything like that. He just… wants to comfort me, take my mind off what happened before, and… his hand wraps around me, pulling and stroking, fingers tightening almost painfully but not quite, and…
“Don’t… deserve this…” I whisper on a gasp, shallow thrusts forcing me closer and closer to what I want… what I fear.
He just moves faster, harder, shallow becoming deep again, and when I bite my lip to keep the pleasure at bey, he growls, sharp teeth pricking lightly at the skin of the crook of my neck.
“Deserve whatever I say ya do, pet… now cum for me, yah…?” and those teeth drive deep, spearing into my flesh, and I keen and wail and try as hard as I can not to listen, not to do what he says, but…
Fuck, there’s no choice, and my body seems to know it even if my mind disagrees and the next thing I know, I’m even fuller of him, of the coolness bathing my innards, than I ever would have imagined and it feels so… good…
Too good, I tell myself, even as I spill over his hand, onto my thighs. Too good, too right, too… painful that I let myself enjoy it, too… addicting.
Oh, fuck.
I was fine before, before I knew, before I gave what he wanted to take and now I…
God, I want it. Want it even more than I thought I did and it’s Spike and he… he…
“Hush, luv,” he says, his voice quiet and soft as his tongue moves over and over the skin he just bit, “Through lettin’ ya drift, I am.”
Fuck, he’s still hard, still in me, still holding me against him and I can’t escape, can’t move without losing this feeling, and… how sick is it that I don’t want to? Because I don’t.
No, I… I want to stay right here, right like this, stretched around him, full of him, his body cool and strong against mine, and…
“Hush,” he says again, one hand sliding up my chest and to my head to run slow, pale fingers through my hair and I can’t hold back the sigh. “Goin’ ta take care of ya, pet,” he adds, “Make ya whole again, yah?”
I shouldn’t be nodding, shouldn’t let him think it could happen. Hell, I shouldn’t be letting myself enjoy the way he’s touching me now, but I am.
I know now that I really am a monster because I can’t tell him no. I can’t pull away, can’t make myself let go of this… feeling.
And I know this evil inside me is gonna wrap around him eventually, tarnish him, dirty up that beautiful soul of his, and… I don’t care.
Right at this moment, I just don’t care.
I’m a monster, and… I can’t get enough of him.
Fuck.
~End.
(A/N: Many thanks to mariposa, delmi, nulinka, hh9007 & anon for the reviews of the last part of this series! Love knowing you're liking it!)
Author: Tisienne Blue
Sequel to: Envy, Pride, Anger
Series: Sins (#4)
Rating: NC-17, I guess, for language and some not terribly graphic sex... just to be on the safe side.
Summary: Now that Xander’s secret is at least partly out to Spike, how does the former Scooby react?
P.O.V.: Xander’s
* * * * * * * * *
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
And… can I say fuck again?
Fuck.
He knows something. Spike knows something. Or he thinks he does. That’s the only reason I can think of for him to be acting like this.
It’s… not okay. If I weren’t so… dirty… maybe I wouldn’t mind. Wouldn’t mind that he’s still holding me, even hours after I fell apart and dripped tears and snot all over his coat. Wouldn’t mind the strange peace of his arms around me, his chin on my shoulder if I didn’t know just how much I don’t deserve his comfort… his care.
Fuck. I swore I wouldn’t let myself want him. I swore it! And I didn’t. I didn’t want him! I just… wanted him to believe I was okay so he would…
Shit. I can’t even lie to myself anymore.
I want him.
I won’t have him, though. I can’t. Not when I don’t know what it would do to him.
I could… Fuck, Spike’s a vampire. With a soul.
I’m a human… no matter what the things I’ve done make me feel like. Also soul-having, supposedly.
And that’s the problem. How could I do what I did to Shayna and Wave? I shouldn’t have… it wasn’t my place!
And Spike knows I’m a monster. I told him. Told him and told him and he didn’t…
‘Sometimes… takes a monster ta kill a monster, luv,’ he said last night, and God I want to believe him. I want to think that maybe there’s some purpose to what I’ve become… some big, good reason for what I did.
But there isn’t. I’m just… evil. I must be. How else could I have… killed… someone I loved?
Someone I thought I loved… maybe I didn’t?
Hell, I don’t know.
I know when I followed them, Slayer and Watcher, I thought… God, I know what I thought they’d been sneaking off to do, but when I found them…
Fuck.
I lost it. I lost it and it felt good, it felt right and I wanted… needed… to finish it. Finish them. I needed to… stop them. Stop the whimpers and moans, stop the looks and the horror in my own mind… and I…
God, fucking help me, God, if you’ll even listen to something like me!
I did it and it was… easy.
They were still shocked that I was there when I did it. They didn’t even fight back.
I didn’t give them the chance.
I don’t want to remember anymore. I don’t want to… see it. But I do. I see it every time I close my eyes, see it even when I’m awake.
I stare at the ceiling and I see them dying.
I look in the mirror and I see… the blood.
God, how can Spike even stand to touch me? How can he not feel the… evil?
But he doesn’t. He must not because if he did, he wouldn’t be here, wouldn’t be curled behind me, his chest to my spine.
His hands wouldn’t be hard but soft, cool but hot on my skin.
His lips wouldn’t be pressed to the back of my neck and he wouldn’t be doing something that sounds and feels like purring.
I… want him. But I can’t have him. I can’t!
I… I have to tell him. Have to make him see. He can’t go on doing this; I can’t keep resisting temptation.
Hell, he is temptation and I’m only human and… am I even human anymore? Would a human have…
Christ, I’m so fucked up.
But his hands are still on my skin and he’s pressed against my back and he’s hard, which he never is in the morning, and God this is bizarre. He… he can’t be turned on because I’m a monster, can he?
“S-spike…” I finally say, not looking over my shoulder at him, not trying to see him, because if I see him I won’t be able to say what I have to say and… “Wh-what are you doing…?”
“Hush,” he says, his fingers flexing on my skin as his lips move to my shoulder. “Let me do this, luv… show ya how ta live again, yah…?”
‘No, Spike… don’t touch me, don’t care, don’t let me make you dirty and worthless, you’re too good for this…’ I want to say all that and more, but his hands… his lips… God, his tongue is… and I find myself saying none of those things. I find myself nodding instead. “Y-yeah…”
* * * * *
God help me… God, please help me…
“God…” is all I manage to get out, my head falling back on his shoulder, eye closing tightly while his hands stroke and skim, fingers plucking softly—too damned softly—at my skin…
I can feel him inside me, where only Wave’s ever been before and it’s good, it’s right, it’s…
Maybe Spike can wash him away, flush him from me, take away the… hate.
I thought I loved him, thought he was it… thought he was mine and how stupid was that? Nobody would ever want to be mine. I know that now.
I must have had it in me all along… the desperate killer, the… darkness. It was always there, must have been, and I was so lucky for so long that nobody noticed, nobody saw, or I thought they didn’t but they must have because if they never knew…
“Thinkin’ too much, luv,” he murmurs, hips shifting while he presses himself deep again, and the pain of it makes me shudder even while the pleasure builds higher… higher… too high… don’t deserve this, shouldn’t feel this good, not with what I am, what I did, how I liked it, and…
“C-can’t stop,” I hear myself admitting, and God, I don’t know if he thinks I mean I can’t stop my thoughts or can’t stop moaning every time he’s deep in me, every time he pulls back, every time he rubs against that spot inside me that’s making me shiver around him.
I want him to hurt me. Need him to hurt me. I deserve to be punished, broken, torn… and that’s exactly what he’s not doing.
No, he’s… God, it’s almost like he’s…
And I can’t even think it, can’t let myself believe that it could be anything like that. He just… wants to comfort me, take my mind off what happened before, and… his hand wraps around me, pulling and stroking, fingers tightening almost painfully but not quite, and…
“Don’t… deserve this…” I whisper on a gasp, shallow thrusts forcing me closer and closer to what I want… what I fear.
He just moves faster, harder, shallow becoming deep again, and when I bite my lip to keep the pleasure at bey, he growls, sharp teeth pricking lightly at the skin of the crook of my neck.
“Deserve whatever I say ya do, pet… now cum for me, yah…?” and those teeth drive deep, spearing into my flesh, and I keen and wail and try as hard as I can not to listen, not to do what he says, but…
Fuck, there’s no choice, and my body seems to know it even if my mind disagrees and the next thing I know, I’m even fuller of him, of the coolness bathing my innards, than I ever would have imagined and it feels so… good…
Too good, I tell myself, even as I spill over his hand, onto my thighs. Too good, too right, too… painful that I let myself enjoy it, too… addicting.
Oh, fuck.
I was fine before, before I knew, before I gave what he wanted to take and now I…
God, I want it. Want it even more than I thought I did and it’s Spike and he… he…
“Hush, luv,” he says, his voice quiet and soft as his tongue moves over and over the skin he just bit, “Through lettin’ ya drift, I am.”
Fuck, he’s still hard, still in me, still holding me against him and I can’t escape, can’t move without losing this feeling, and… how sick is it that I don’t want to? Because I don’t.
No, I… I want to stay right here, right like this, stretched around him, full of him, his body cool and strong against mine, and…
“Hush,” he says again, one hand sliding up my chest and to my head to run slow, pale fingers through my hair and I can’t hold back the sigh. “Goin’ ta take care of ya, pet,” he adds, “Make ya whole again, yah?”
I shouldn’t be nodding, shouldn’t let him think it could happen. Hell, I shouldn’t be letting myself enjoy the way he’s touching me now, but I am.
I know now that I really am a monster because I can’t tell him no. I can’t pull away, can’t make myself let go of this… feeling.
And I know this evil inside me is gonna wrap around him eventually, tarnish him, dirty up that beautiful soul of his, and… I don’t care.
Right at this moment, I just don’t care.
I’m a monster, and… I can’t get enough of him.
Fuck.
~End.
(A/N: Many thanks to mariposa, delmi, nulinka, hh9007 & anon for the reviews of the last part of this series! Love knowing you're liking it!)