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Happy, happy birthday diva... (sing it!)
Oct. 1st, 2003 07:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
essene_backup Happy Birthday ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
diva_stardust!
He heard her before he saw her. She always thought she was so quiet, that she blended into the background, that no one noticed her. He always noticed her.
“Why aren’t you asleep, niblet?” He asked the question without rolling over, before her foot even hit the basement floor.
She was close enough now that she drifted to him on the air: her citrus shampoo, the rose oil she dabbed on daily, a whiff of mint and…something new. A scent he was all too familiar with…
Identifying the last smell caused him to sit up and face her. If he had a pulse it would’ve stopped, or maybe started racing.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t noticed that the bit was growing up—she didn’t quite fit in the nook of his arm anymore, he had to stand farther away to avoid a kick, and then there were the boys who came sniffing around.
But this…this vision standing before him bore no resemblance to the gawky teenager he’d watched over these past few years. This was a woman.
Long, lithe legs stretched out from under an over-sized t-shirt that skimmed the tops of her thighs. The thin, worn material did more to enhance her form than cover it. The swell of her breasts pushed against the fabric, outlining her nipples and farther down, her gently flared hips announced themselves. Her large eyes were bigger than usual and darting from corner to corner.
Dawn had stopped at the landing of the stairs and was just watching him, eyes dashing away, as if afraid he would see, afraid he would know. His eyes roamed over her in a way they never had before—lingering, drinking, and licking her. A shudder ran over her and she reached up to hug her arms tight around her. She took a deep breath, “I couldn’t sleep.” She glided towards him on carefully pedicured feet.
Spike caught the quick tightening of her nipples just before her arms came up and he had to swallow the lump that emerged in his throat.
Dawn reached his small cot and sat next to him, sending the springs creaking and tilting him into her warm body. Spike eased himself back into the wall, not fast enough to alarm her, but quickly moving his traitorous body away from her.
Closing his eyes to regroup, he asked, “What’s keeping the sandman away, bit?” He reopened his eyes and focused on her back. Nothing wrong with looking at her back.
She ran a slim-fingered hand through her hair letting it fall in soft tangles and turned slightly, so her eyes were on him again.
diva_stardust!He heard her before he saw her. She always thought she was so quiet, that she blended into the background, that no one noticed her. He always noticed her.
“Why aren’t you asleep, niblet?” He asked the question without rolling over, before her foot even hit the basement floor.
She was close enough now that she drifted to him on the air: her citrus shampoo, the rose oil she dabbed on daily, a whiff of mint and…something new. A scent he was all too familiar with…
Identifying the last smell caused him to sit up and face her. If he had a pulse it would’ve stopped, or maybe started racing.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t noticed that the bit was growing up—she didn’t quite fit in the nook of his arm anymore, he had to stand farther away to avoid a kick, and then there were the boys who came sniffing around.
But this…this vision standing before him bore no resemblance to the gawky teenager he’d watched over these past few years. This was a woman.
Long, lithe legs stretched out from under an over-sized t-shirt that skimmed the tops of her thighs. The thin, worn material did more to enhance her form than cover it. The swell of her breasts pushed against the fabric, outlining her nipples and farther down, her gently flared hips announced themselves. Her large eyes were bigger than usual and darting from corner to corner.
Dawn had stopped at the landing of the stairs and was just watching him, eyes dashing away, as if afraid he would see, afraid he would know. His eyes roamed over her in a way they never had before—lingering, drinking, and licking her. A shudder ran over her and she reached up to hug her arms tight around her. She took a deep breath, “I couldn’t sleep.” She glided towards him on carefully pedicured feet.
Spike caught the quick tightening of her nipples just before her arms came up and he had to swallow the lump that emerged in his throat.
Dawn reached his small cot and sat next to him, sending the springs creaking and tilting him into her warm body. Spike eased himself back into the wall, not fast enough to alarm her, but quickly moving his traitorous body away from her.
Closing his eyes to regroup, he asked, “What’s keeping the sandman away, bit?” He reopened his eyes and focused on her back. Nothing wrong with looking at her back.
She ran a slim-fingered hand through her hair letting it fall in soft tangles and turned slightly, so her eyes were on him again.
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<font size="6"> Happy Birthday <user site="livejournal.com" user="diva_stardust">!</font>
<lj-cut text="Someone came to Spike the night before the apocalypse, but not who you think...unless you're diva...">
He heard her before he saw her. She always thought she was so quiet, that she blended into the background, that no one noticed her. He always noticed her.
“Why aren’t you asleep, niblet?” He asked the question without rolling over, before her foot even hit the basement floor.
She was close enough now that she drifted to him on the air: her citrus shampoo, the rose oil she dabbed on daily, a whiff of mint and…something new. A scent he was all too familiar with…
Identifying the last smell caused him to sit up and face her. If he had a pulse it would’ve stopped, or maybe started racing.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t noticed that the bit was growing up—she didn’t quite fit in the nook of his arm anymore, he had to stand farther away to avoid a kick, and then there were the boys who came sniffing around.
But this…this vision standing before him bore no resemblance to the gawky teenager he’d watched over these past few years. This was a woman.
Long, lithe legs stretched out from under an over-sized t-shirt that skimmed the tops of her thighs. The thin, worn material did more to enhance her form than cover it. The swell of her breasts pushed against the fabric, outlining her nipples and farther down, her gently flared hips announced themselves. Her large eyes were bigger than usual and darting from corner to corner.
Dawn had stopped at the landing of the stairs and was just watching him, eyes dashing away, as if afraid he would see, afraid he would know. His eyes roamed over her in a way they never had before—lingering, drinking, and licking her. A shudder ran over her and she reached up to hug her arms tight around her. She took a deep breath, “I couldn’t sleep.” She glided towards him on carefully pedicured feet.
Spike caught the quick tightening of her nipples just before her arms came up and he had to swallow the lump that emerged in his throat.
Dawn reached his small cot and sat next to him, sending the springs creaking and tilting him into her warm body. Spike eased himself back into the wall, not fast enough to alarm her, but quickly moving his traitorous body away from her.
Closing his eyes to regroup, he asked, “What’s keeping the sandman away, bit?” He reopened his eyes and focused on her back. Nothing wrong with looking at her back.
She ran a slim-fingered hand through her hair letting it fall in soft tangles and turned slightly, so her eyes were on him again. <i><Sod all,, she had to stop LOOKING at him.></i> Soft green eyes on his, full pink lips parted, “I cant stop thinking about…what if…I’ve never…” She drew one of those lush lips between her teeth, halting the stilted flow of words.
When she turned to face him her lower body shifted and that singular odor suddenly assaulted him, worrying him more than any other. <i><Bloody hell, she’s aroused.></i>
Spike had never gone long without sex since he’d begun living in the night. Dru had taught, provided, supplied and catered to every need in that department for over 100 years. After her he’d never lacked for a willing partner. And then there’d been Buffy. A passion that raged and consumed, that had gotten the better of both of them. But that was done now. Had been done for more than a year now. Not long in the grand scheme of things, but an eternity in context.
He’d never thought about finding a new lover since Buffy. He couldn’t imagine anyone who would want whatever it was he’d become. But he was still male, and an experienced one at that. You couldn’t go back to virginal, rosy, romantic thoughts after what he’d been a party to.
But this. To have the thoughts that were racing through his mind, the feelings coursing through his body for HER. For his niblet, Dawn, Dawnie, The Slayer’s sister. That was not something he and his newly minted soul were prepared for.
Gruffly he urged, “Spit it out, pet.”
“Could you just hold me please?” Trusting eyes, innocent face, nearly the same words her big sis had used. <Bugger. What was it with these bloody women?>
Not trusting his voice, Spike nodded brusquely and opened his arms, silently cursing himself for not wearing more than the carpenter’s cast-off sweats to bed—but thankful he’d at least started doing that. Wouldn’t do to have one of the nattering ninnies upstairs to wander in on him when he was starkers.
So warm. Her soft flesh was so warm and when one of her small hands lit on his chest he had to restrain a moan.
They stayed like that for long minutes, time frozen for just a moment while they sat entwined; both older than this moment, once vamp, once key.
It was the smallest of moves, but it shook his world. A feather light kiss pressed into his chest. He froze. It had been so gentle, so brief, that for a moment he thought he’d imagined it and then it happened again, and again, and again. When the scorch left by the rain of those tiny kisses finally sunk into his bones and brain he pushed Dawn off him and looked at her sternly.
“Dawn. Luv, what are you doing?” His voice was harsh, pained, full of confusion.
A lone tear made its way down Dawn’s graceful cheek. “Please.”
There were beseeching sentences, longing paragraphs, and pages of aching explanation in that one word. And then she said it again.
“Please,” and the book was written.
Groaning, Spike fell on her mouth, sucking one of those full, trembling lips into his mouth. Tender, lush, soft. And then one of her hands cupped his face, exploring him with her fingers, learning the planes of his features and he knew there was no turning back.
<i>He remembered her at 10 chasing the marshmallows around her cup of cocoa when Joyce had so nicely invited him in. She’d sat on the stool, legs dangling, freckled nose finally appearing, dabbed with foam. </i>
Her hands roamed over his back like whispers or scraps of silk. It wasn’t until he deepened the kiss, gripping the back of her head, holding her still and open for his tongue’s plundering that she finally settled on him, arms wrapping around his body and molding herself to him.
<i>He remembered her when she was a four-and-a-half foot spitfire, brandishing a stake much too big for her, warning him to leave her sister alone, even as she backed away from him.</i>
He ripped her shirt at the seams and finally, her breasts were bare before him--he’d never tasted such sweet ripe flesh. Her nipples tightened and rose, bringing her breasts with them, filling his mouth as she arched instinctively at him.
<i>He remembered her blood. He’d never forget her blood, rich and thick, falling through the grate, passing by him even as he fell, both on gravity’s race to the ground.</i>
His fingers traversed their way to her panties, rubbing and massaging her through the already moist material, receiving gifts of heat and more liquid for his ministrations.
<i>He remembered her tears. Dry, wracking sobs that came between screams and flying knick-knacks. Her tears had etched himself in his memory deeper than anything else. He’d watched them wax and wane with the flashes of her loss. They’d hit her unexpectedly and he’d see her through their tides.</i>
He kissed his way down her softly rounded belly, twirling his tongue in her navel, making her giggle. Thumbs under the elastic, hands easing the cotton away from the one place he so wanted to be. Her scent was overwhelming. Spicy, tangy, sweet; he dipped his head and ran the tip of his tongue over the drops that had seeped out through soft hair. Dawn gasped and drew her thighs together.
Looking up at her, finding her eyes with his, Spike massaged her hips, let his thumbs press into her forgiving mound. “S’okay luv, want to taste you, feel you, drink you down. Open for me, bit.” With a soft sigh she let him in.
<i>He remembered her rage. And silence. The unbearable, unending, unwavering endurance of them both. There were words spoken, but they were always around him, or at him, but never to him.</i>
And now. He would never forget now. Now she lay beneath him, thighs spread, back arched, eyes latched to his, silently begging him to experience this last and final expressive act with her.
He surged forward into her tight, wet heat, stilling both their cries when he covered her mouth with his.
It was over quickly for both of them, he flicked and twirled and rolled her into ecstasy within minutes and was glad for it, as his body had forgotten the sublime feeling of being buried in warm, clenching, live flesh.
He watched her find her way back to him out of the haze and was dismayed to see the tears streaming into her hair.
“Oh bit, I’m sorry. I’m so bloody sorry,” he babbled as he started the slow, agonizing slide from inside her. Then there were hands wrapped around him, hips thrust up into his own.
“No. Stay. Stay in me. Never leave me. Don’t want to lose you. Stay.” Whispered, frantic, pleading.
He dropped his forehead to hers, closed his eyes and nodded. So perfect was his girl. Knew just what she needed, what she wanted, how to get it. He stayed in her warm sheath, holding her, kissing her until she finally fell asleep. After long still moments passed in measured breaths, he withdrew and moved to her side, drawing her close. Cradling her, he closed his eyes and dreamed of the sun.
<lj-cut text="Someone came to Spike the night before the apocalypse, but not who you think...unless you're diva...">
He heard her before he saw her. She always thought she was so quiet, that she blended into the background, that no one noticed her. He always noticed her.
“Why aren’t you asleep, niblet?” He asked the question without rolling over, before her foot even hit the basement floor.
She was close enough now that she drifted to him on the air: her citrus shampoo, the rose oil she dabbed on daily, a whiff of mint and…something new. A scent he was all too familiar with…
Identifying the last smell caused him to sit up and face her. If he had a pulse it would’ve stopped, or maybe started racing.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t noticed that the bit was growing up—she didn’t quite fit in the nook of his arm anymore, he had to stand farther away to avoid a kick, and then there were the boys who came sniffing around.
But this…this vision standing before him bore no resemblance to the gawky teenager he’d watched over these past few years. This was a woman.
Long, lithe legs stretched out from under an over-sized t-shirt that skimmed the tops of her thighs. The thin, worn material did more to enhance her form than cover it. The swell of her breasts pushed against the fabric, outlining her nipples and farther down, her gently flared hips announced themselves. Her large eyes were bigger than usual and darting from corner to corner.
Dawn had stopped at the landing of the stairs and was just watching him, eyes dashing away, as if afraid he would see, afraid he would know. His eyes roamed over her in a way they never had before—lingering, drinking, and licking her. A shudder ran over her and she reached up to hug her arms tight around her. She took a deep breath, “I couldn’t sleep.” She glided towards him on carefully pedicured feet.
Spike caught the quick tightening of her nipples just before her arms came up and he had to swallow the lump that emerged in his throat.
Dawn reached his small cot and sat next to him, sending the springs creaking and tilting him into her warm body. Spike eased himself back into the wall, not fast enough to alarm her, but quickly moving his traitorous body away from her.
Closing his eyes to regroup, he asked, “What’s keeping the sandman away, bit?” He reopened his eyes and focused on her back. Nothing wrong with looking at her back.
She ran a slim-fingered hand through her hair letting it fall in soft tangles and turned slightly, so her eyes were on him again. <i><Sod all,, she had to stop LOOKING at him.></i> Soft green eyes on his, full pink lips parted, “I cant stop thinking about…what if…I’ve never…” She drew one of those lush lips between her teeth, halting the stilted flow of words.
When she turned to face him her lower body shifted and that singular odor suddenly assaulted him, worrying him more than any other. <i><Bloody hell, she’s aroused.></i>
Spike had never gone long without sex since he’d begun living in the night. Dru had taught, provided, supplied and catered to every need in that department for over 100 years. After her he’d never lacked for a willing partner. And then there’d been Buffy. A passion that raged and consumed, that had gotten the better of both of them. But that was done now. Had been done for more than a year now. Not long in the grand scheme of things, but an eternity in context.
He’d never thought about finding a new lover since Buffy. He couldn’t imagine anyone who would want whatever it was he’d become. But he was still male, and an experienced one at that. You couldn’t go back to virginal, rosy, romantic thoughts after what he’d been a party to.
But this. To have the thoughts that were racing through his mind, the feelings coursing through his body for HER. For his niblet, Dawn, Dawnie, The Slayer’s sister. That was not something he and his newly minted soul were prepared for.
Gruffly he urged, “Spit it out, pet.”
“Could you just hold me please?” Trusting eyes, innocent face, nearly the same words her big sis had used. <Bugger. What was it with these bloody women?>
Not trusting his voice, Spike nodded brusquely and opened his arms, silently cursing himself for not wearing more than the carpenter’s cast-off sweats to bed—but thankful he’d at least started doing that. Wouldn’t do to have one of the nattering ninnies upstairs to wander in on him when he was starkers.
So warm. Her soft flesh was so warm and when one of her small hands lit on his chest he had to restrain a moan.
They stayed like that for long minutes, time frozen for just a moment while they sat entwined; both older than this moment, once vamp, once key.
It was the smallest of moves, but it shook his world. A feather light kiss pressed into his chest. He froze. It had been so gentle, so brief, that for a moment he thought he’d imagined it and then it happened again, and again, and again. When the scorch left by the rain of those tiny kisses finally sunk into his bones and brain he pushed Dawn off him and looked at her sternly.
“Dawn. Luv, what are you doing?” His voice was harsh, pained, full of confusion.
A lone tear made its way down Dawn’s graceful cheek. “Please.”
There were beseeching sentences, longing paragraphs, and pages of aching explanation in that one word. And then she said it again.
“Please,” and the book was written.
Groaning, Spike fell on her mouth, sucking one of those full, trembling lips into his mouth. Tender, lush, soft. And then one of her hands cupped his face, exploring him with her fingers, learning the planes of his features and he knew there was no turning back.
<i>He remembered her at 10 chasing the marshmallows around her cup of cocoa when Joyce had so nicely invited him in. She’d sat on the stool, legs dangling, freckled nose finally appearing, dabbed with foam. </i>
Her hands roamed over his back like whispers or scraps of silk. It wasn’t until he deepened the kiss, gripping the back of her head, holding her still and open for his tongue’s plundering that she finally settled on him, arms wrapping around his body and molding herself to him.
<i>He remembered her when she was a four-and-a-half foot spitfire, brandishing a stake much too big for her, warning him to leave her sister alone, even as she backed away from him.</i>
He ripped her shirt at the seams and finally, her breasts were bare before him--he’d never tasted such sweet ripe flesh. Her nipples tightened and rose, bringing her breasts with them, filling his mouth as she arched instinctively at him.
<i>He remembered her blood. He’d never forget her blood, rich and thick, falling through the grate, passing by him even as he fell, both on gravity’s race to the ground.</i>
His fingers traversed their way to her panties, rubbing and massaging her through the already moist material, receiving gifts of heat and more liquid for his ministrations.
<i>He remembered her tears. Dry, wracking sobs that came between screams and flying knick-knacks. Her tears had etched himself in his memory deeper than anything else. He’d watched them wax and wane with the flashes of her loss. They’d hit her unexpectedly and he’d see her through their tides.</i>
He kissed his way down her softly rounded belly, twirling his tongue in her navel, making her giggle. Thumbs under the elastic, hands easing the cotton away from the one place he so wanted to be. Her scent was overwhelming. Spicy, tangy, sweet; he dipped his head and ran the tip of his tongue over the drops that had seeped out through soft hair. Dawn gasped and drew her thighs together.
Looking up at her, finding her eyes with his, Spike massaged her hips, let his thumbs press into her forgiving mound. “S’okay luv, want to taste you, feel you, drink you down. Open for me, bit.” With a soft sigh she let him in.
<i>He remembered her rage. And silence. The unbearable, unending, unwavering endurance of them both. There were words spoken, but they were always around him, or at him, but never to him.</i>
And now. He would never forget now. Now she lay beneath him, thighs spread, back arched, eyes latched to his, silently begging him to experience this last and final expressive act with her.
He surged forward into her tight, wet heat, stilling both their cries when he covered her mouth with his.
It was over quickly for both of them, he flicked and twirled and rolled her into ecstasy within minutes and was glad for it, as his body had forgotten the sublime feeling of being buried in warm, clenching, live flesh.
He watched her find her way back to him out of the haze and was dismayed to see the tears streaming into her hair.
“Oh bit, I’m sorry. I’m so bloody sorry,” he babbled as he started the slow, agonizing slide from inside her. Then there were hands wrapped around him, hips thrust up into his own.
“No. Stay. Stay in me. Never leave me. Don’t want to lose you. Stay.” Whispered, frantic, pleading.
He dropped his forehead to hers, closed his eyes and nodded. So perfect was his girl. Knew just what she needed, what she wanted, how to get it. He stayed in her warm sheath, holding her, kissing her until she finally fell asleep. After long still moments passed in measured breaths, he withdrew and moved to her side, drawing her close. Cradling her, he closed his eyes and dreamed of the sun.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-01 07:25 am (UTC)And the icons are so pretty! Whee!
And I *loved* what you did with him remembering her through the years. I know people think the fact that he's known her for so long (or in some cases *thought* he knew her for so long) makes the whole thing wrong but I think it only makes the relationship that much more special. They have a large foundation to build on.
Thanks again!!!!!!
no subject
Date: 2003-10-01 07:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-02 12:32 am (UTC)And I'm especially giddy that you mentioned that part--it's one of my favorites as well. I worked on getting it right a bit harder than usual.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-02 12:35 am (UTC)Can you stop making so much sense please? I HAVE a OTP! ::grin::
And I'm glad you liked it. Hope you had a great birthday with lots of prezzies and most of all, love.