Rating: R (a whole lot implied, not much said)
Setting: Post S9,
Title: No Holding Back
Warning: Minorly spoilerish for S8 and S9, don't really need comic knowledge. All based on Buffy's secret fantasy (see icon).
I was in bed. Almost asleep. And my brain decided this had to be written now (I blame our lovely moderators for making me worry about deadlines).
Okay, look, here was the deal: It was just a fantasy, a secret fantasy, the kind that helped to get you over the edge, no big deal, everyone had them (she knew this from reading Cosmo and Elle) even Slayers, but most especially Slayers who had gone through an extra-long and dry spell after having the kind of mind-blowing orgasms that changed your life.
So she’d had this fantasy, okay, and it had featured not one but two vampire lovers, because both of them had been in her heart, and both of them had claimed her womanhood, although in very different ways. There was the one she would always love because he had been first, and the one she would love the rest of her life because of who he was.
And for some stupid reason, when he asked her about her fantasies she told him, because this is what they did now. They told each other things, no holding back, no secrets, everything out in the open.
Of course she immediately wished she hadn’t. She knew he had issues about the other one, giant insecurities, and this admission would only fuel them, especially after that whole Twilight Saga blunder.
He surprised her though. Brought home a sexy nurse’s uniform and a nametag that said ‘Buffy’ and even a set of chains, and said, “I’m willing to take this as far as you are, pet.”
All of a sudden it wasn’t just a secret fantasy anymore, no, it was a possible reality, and because she was nervous and unsure (and just a little excited), she said, “What’s the tradeoff? What sick fantasy do I fulfill in return?”
He knew her too well, didn’t take offense, only said, “If we do this, we do this, no holding back, no squeamishness, no running off virtue a-fluttering, no regretting it after,” and the images flashing though her brain left her aching and wet and not a little ashamed.
“I don’t get it. How are you okay with this?” she asked, and his answer, “I’ve lived a long, long time, sweetheart,” left her to understand that this was, well, tame.
Of course, it wasn’t up to just her, or just him; there was a third party to be involved, but he was (surprisingly) agreeable.
So there she found herself, in the middle of a (very) secret fantasy come true – Doctor, Doctor – naked both, pressed up against her, chains binding them in place, her sandwiched between all that cool, hard flesh, and the details?
You’ll just have to imagine those.