His Princess
Aug. 4th, 2022 10:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
apachefirecatTitle: His Princess
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Author: Apache Firecat
Characters: Spike/Buffy
Rating: PG/K+
Summary: Spike knows anything will be well worth the wait.
Word Count: 1,751
Written For: Nekid Spike Quote Me Challenge: "Love means never having to say you're sorry." and "I'm so tired of being good." and 1 Million Words A to Z: P (Princess)
Warnings: None... unless you count the ending being pure fluff ;)
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.
He stared into the beautiful, green eyes of the woman he loved as tears overflowed them. "I am so sorry, Spike," she babbled, tripping over her words as they came spilling out of her so fast that sometimes he had to wonder if she even really knew what she was saying. "I am so sorry I didn't see you! I am so sorry I didn't see what you were doing for me, giving me! I am so sorry for everything! I'm so glad you lived and he died, and I'm just -- I'm just -- "
She shook her head, at a loss for words, and then finally she threw her hands into the air and exclaimed, "I'm just sorry for everything I've ever done that hurt you! I'm sorry for ignoring you! I'm sorry for trying to kill you so many times even after you proved to me that you're the better man, especially when you tried to save the world all those years ago for Drusilla when you weren't being forced to be good! I'm so sorry I didn't see how good a man you are! I'm so sorry I hurt you! I'm so sorry I made you cry! I'm so sorry I blinded you that one time and that I've hit you so much and that -- I -- I -- I'm just so sorry!"
He stared at her, amazed. Was this really happening? Could it be? Was she under some kind of a spell or something? Buffy never appreciated him, not as she was currently doing, not unless she was desperate and thought she was going to pull the world-saving out of her ass that night.
He stared at her as she continued to babble and cry. Her bottom lip wobbled sexily, and her eyes finally dropped from his. "I'm sorry. I know I don't deserve you. I don't deserve your forgiveness." She whimpered as she started to turn away from him, one last cry.
But then, almost as though the spell that had been cast over him instead, he was moving to stop her. He grabbed her arm, pulled her back to face him, cupped her beautiful face in his hands, and tilted her head so that he could look directly into her eyes. She truly was repentant that she had hurt him so and almost driven him away. "I'm sorry -- " she started to say again, but he hushed her with a quiet, soothing voice.
"Hush, luv. I knew what I was getting into what I let myself fall for a Slayer." He brushed away her tears with his black-nailed thumbs. "But love means never having to say you're sorry. Of course, I forgive you, pet. I'll always forgive you. That's what love is, true love, always forgiving the person you love no matter how much they hurt you, no matter how often they leave you for dead, always loving them no matter what, and I will always love you." He leaned in to kiss her, but then his mouth angled for her sweet neck.
Spike woke with a roar that he barely stopped from escaping his mouth. He bit his own lip, drawing blood but silencing the terrified beast within. Buffy's heart pounded in his ears. He looked down at her, sleeping so sweetly beside him. They'd gotten pass those horrible nights when she'd beaten him because she hated herself so greatly, just as he'd known they would if he could only hold on. They'd gotten pass her fear of him and her fear, hatred, and disgust of herself for falling in love with him.
She had yet to actually say the words, but he knew she loved him. Even now she was murmuring his name in her sleep. He reached down and stroked her soft, blonde hair. "Sh, pet. It's all right. I'm alive, most I can be anyway. Hell, better'n I ever was when I was alive because of you. Everybody's safe and sound, tucked into their beds. Dream sweetly, Princess." He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss to her head.
She murmured his name again in his sleep, turned over, and then lay still. He smiled, drawing pleasure from the simple fact that he could ease her horrid nightmares. His girl was a warrior, the best there'd ever been, and he cared not what anybody else had to say. She was the reason why this whole, damn ball was still spinning. He couldn't help loving her, although he'd tried.
Oh, how he'd tried! He'd tried leaving Sunnydale. He'd tried multiple times to end the world before he could fall prey to the dreams he'd been having; visions, Drusilla had once screeched at him, visions that he'd wanted. He hadn't wanted things to turn out this way, but he was glad they had. For all the times he'd called both Drusilla and Cecily before him his Princess, Buffy Anne Summers was the one true Princess he'd ever come across; all the rest of the strumpets paled by far in comparison.
You couldn't compare, he thought, with perfection. Maybe Buffy wasn't perfect. She was still human at her core, still vulnerable to all the same plights as any Vampire or human, still prone to an ego, to jealousy, to pain, and to pride, even to the point of the night where she had pounded on him until she'd effectively blinded him. He'd thought for certain that would free him of her hold over him, a hold for which he knew she'd never asked, but it hadn't. He'd still come through that savage ordeal loving her.
He would always love her, even if she never found the strength within herself to return that love as he longed for it to be. He could make her, Spike knew, oh so very easily. His fingertips grazed her neck as she slept deeply. He could take her right now, bite her, change her, and have him calling her Master before the sun was up. He had been so tired for so long of always trying to be good and his efforts never being appreciated. He could make her his.
But it wouldn't be the same, and he knew it. He wanted her to love him just as he loved her, freely and without abandon, completely adoring him no matter how hard she tried to deny it. He could tell he was starting to get there. She had fallen in love with him, but she was still fighting it. She didn't fight it in her sleep, though, and whenever she really needed someone, she always came to him.
Spike lay back, stroking her hair as she slept. Some men fought bloody wars over women and still never got the woman. Some lived their entire lives, no matter how miserable, without finding the perfect soul mate. He'd found his. He'd claimed his, because he was never going to leave her, no matter how many times she told him to go or punished him because he didn't leave her side for long ever. Most of all, even if she wouldn't admit, he knew she loved him. He knew from moments like these when she called his name while dreaming, in moments when she turned to him with confessions she would never dare tell another soul, living or dead, in moments when in the heat of battle her back pressed against his and he could feel every move of her body as thoroughly as though they were making love, and even in simple, quiet moments when her eyes just met his and neither of them could think of any words worth saying that they wanted to voice but words weren't actually needed.
She loved him. Otherwise, she would have done staked him, but in truth, no matter how many times she claimed she was going to do that very thing, she always turned to him when she needed someone the most, when she needed something no one else could provide or when she just needed something from the one person she could trust the most. He would always be there for her, but one night she'd allow him to go further. One night she would finally say the words. One night the time for the ring buried deep in a hiding place in the stone walls of his crypt would come, the time when she would finally stop fighting and cry "yes" instead even when not in the throes of passion.
That night wasn't tonight, but he'd wait for it. He'd wait for it, and for her, no matter how long it took. Tonight, he contented himself with laying down beside her, pulling her close, and hugging and caressing her while she dreamed. Tonight, he glowed with happiness for the simple fact that, even if she wasn't quite yet ready to say the words, she still loved him.
"I love you too," he whispered, kissing the back of her head, as he heard her call his name again, "Princess." He grinned. He'd never dare call her that while she was awake, but she would always be his Princess, his Mistress, his Queen, his soul mate, everything he'd ever looked for in a woman and more, so much more, than he could ever hope to deserve.
He could never deserve her, he knew. No one could. No one would ever be good enough to deserve her not just for her beauty but far more so even for her courage, her determination, her amazingly strong will, her eloquence in battle, and so many more traits that only she, of all the Slayers and all the women, possessed... He fell back to sleep counting all the things that were so amazing about his beloved Buffy, all the reasons why he and no man, or woman, could ever be good enough to win her love and knowing that when she did love him fully in return, every sacrifice he'd ever made to earn his place here beside her would be so well worth it.
The moment she spoke those three, little words would really be all the reward he would ever need for being good, no matter how hard it was to be so at times. Besides, he knew, it would be so much harder to not be Buffy's; that, he knew, one be a Hell worse than any other he'd ever experienced, the one Hell he could never survive. "I love you," he whispered right before he fell asleep and missed her unconscious answer of "I love you, too, Spike."
The End
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Author: Apache Firecat
Characters: Spike/Buffy
Rating: PG/K+
Summary: Spike knows anything will be well worth the wait.
Word Count: 1,751
Written For: Nekid Spike Quote Me Challenge: "Love means never having to say you're sorry." and "I'm so tired of being good." and 1 Million Words A to Z: P (Princess)
Warnings: None... unless you count the ending being pure fluff ;)
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.
He stared into the beautiful, green eyes of the woman he loved as tears overflowed them. "I am so sorry, Spike," she babbled, tripping over her words as they came spilling out of her so fast that sometimes he had to wonder if she even really knew what she was saying. "I am so sorry I didn't see you! I am so sorry I didn't see what you were doing for me, giving me! I am so sorry for everything! I'm so glad you lived and he died, and I'm just -- I'm just -- "
She shook her head, at a loss for words, and then finally she threw her hands into the air and exclaimed, "I'm just sorry for everything I've ever done that hurt you! I'm sorry for ignoring you! I'm sorry for trying to kill you so many times even after you proved to me that you're the better man, especially when you tried to save the world all those years ago for Drusilla when you weren't being forced to be good! I'm so sorry I didn't see how good a man you are! I'm so sorry I hurt you! I'm so sorry I made you cry! I'm so sorry I blinded you that one time and that I've hit you so much and that -- I -- I -- I'm just so sorry!"
He stared at her, amazed. Was this really happening? Could it be? Was she under some kind of a spell or something? Buffy never appreciated him, not as she was currently doing, not unless she was desperate and thought she was going to pull the world-saving out of her ass that night.
He stared at her as she continued to babble and cry. Her bottom lip wobbled sexily, and her eyes finally dropped from his. "I'm sorry. I know I don't deserve you. I don't deserve your forgiveness." She whimpered as she started to turn away from him, one last cry.
But then, almost as though the spell that had been cast over him instead, he was moving to stop her. He grabbed her arm, pulled her back to face him, cupped her beautiful face in his hands, and tilted her head so that he could look directly into her eyes. She truly was repentant that she had hurt him so and almost driven him away. "I'm sorry -- " she started to say again, but he hushed her with a quiet, soothing voice.
"Hush, luv. I knew what I was getting into what I let myself fall for a Slayer." He brushed away her tears with his black-nailed thumbs. "But love means never having to say you're sorry. Of course, I forgive you, pet. I'll always forgive you. That's what love is, true love, always forgiving the person you love no matter how much they hurt you, no matter how often they leave you for dead, always loving them no matter what, and I will always love you." He leaned in to kiss her, but then his mouth angled for her sweet neck.
Spike woke with a roar that he barely stopped from escaping his mouth. He bit his own lip, drawing blood but silencing the terrified beast within. Buffy's heart pounded in his ears. He looked down at her, sleeping so sweetly beside him. They'd gotten pass those horrible nights when she'd beaten him because she hated herself so greatly, just as he'd known they would if he could only hold on. They'd gotten pass her fear of him and her fear, hatred, and disgust of herself for falling in love with him.
She had yet to actually say the words, but he knew she loved him. Even now she was murmuring his name in her sleep. He reached down and stroked her soft, blonde hair. "Sh, pet. It's all right. I'm alive, most I can be anyway. Hell, better'n I ever was when I was alive because of you. Everybody's safe and sound, tucked into their beds. Dream sweetly, Princess." He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss to her head.
She murmured his name again in his sleep, turned over, and then lay still. He smiled, drawing pleasure from the simple fact that he could ease her horrid nightmares. His girl was a warrior, the best there'd ever been, and he cared not what anybody else had to say. She was the reason why this whole, damn ball was still spinning. He couldn't help loving her, although he'd tried.
Oh, how he'd tried! He'd tried leaving Sunnydale. He'd tried multiple times to end the world before he could fall prey to the dreams he'd been having; visions, Drusilla had once screeched at him, visions that he'd wanted. He hadn't wanted things to turn out this way, but he was glad they had. For all the times he'd called both Drusilla and Cecily before him his Princess, Buffy Anne Summers was the one true Princess he'd ever come across; all the rest of the strumpets paled by far in comparison.
You couldn't compare, he thought, with perfection. Maybe Buffy wasn't perfect. She was still human at her core, still vulnerable to all the same plights as any Vampire or human, still prone to an ego, to jealousy, to pain, and to pride, even to the point of the night where she had pounded on him until she'd effectively blinded him. He'd thought for certain that would free him of her hold over him, a hold for which he knew she'd never asked, but it hadn't. He'd still come through that savage ordeal loving her.
He would always love her, even if she never found the strength within herself to return that love as he longed for it to be. He could make her, Spike knew, oh so very easily. His fingertips grazed her neck as she slept deeply. He could take her right now, bite her, change her, and have him calling her Master before the sun was up. He had been so tired for so long of always trying to be good and his efforts never being appreciated. He could make her his.
But it wouldn't be the same, and he knew it. He wanted her to love him just as he loved her, freely and without abandon, completely adoring him no matter how hard she tried to deny it. He could tell he was starting to get there. She had fallen in love with him, but she was still fighting it. She didn't fight it in her sleep, though, and whenever she really needed someone, she always came to him.
Spike lay back, stroking her hair as she slept. Some men fought bloody wars over women and still never got the woman. Some lived their entire lives, no matter how miserable, without finding the perfect soul mate. He'd found his. He'd claimed his, because he was never going to leave her, no matter how many times she told him to go or punished him because he didn't leave her side for long ever. Most of all, even if she wouldn't admit, he knew she loved him. He knew from moments like these when she called his name while dreaming, in moments when she turned to him with confessions she would never dare tell another soul, living or dead, in moments when in the heat of battle her back pressed against his and he could feel every move of her body as thoroughly as though they were making love, and even in simple, quiet moments when her eyes just met his and neither of them could think of any words worth saying that they wanted to voice but words weren't actually needed.
She loved him. Otherwise, she would have done staked him, but in truth, no matter how many times she claimed she was going to do that very thing, she always turned to him when she needed someone the most, when she needed something no one else could provide or when she just needed something from the one person she could trust the most. He would always be there for her, but one night she'd allow him to go further. One night she would finally say the words. One night the time for the ring buried deep in a hiding place in the stone walls of his crypt would come, the time when she would finally stop fighting and cry "yes" instead even when not in the throes of passion.
That night wasn't tonight, but he'd wait for it. He'd wait for it, and for her, no matter how long it took. Tonight, he contented himself with laying down beside her, pulling her close, and hugging and caressing her while she dreamed. Tonight, he glowed with happiness for the simple fact that, even if she wasn't quite yet ready to say the words, she still loved him.
"I love you too," he whispered, kissing the back of her head, as he heard her call his name again, "Princess." He grinned. He'd never dare call her that while she was awake, but she would always be his Princess, his Mistress, his Queen, his soul mate, everything he'd ever looked for in a woman and more, so much more, than he could ever hope to deserve.
He could never deserve her, he knew. No one could. No one would ever be good enough to deserve her not just for her beauty but far more so even for her courage, her determination, her amazingly strong will, her eloquence in battle, and so many more traits that only she, of all the Slayers and all the women, possessed... He fell back to sleep counting all the things that were so amazing about his beloved Buffy, all the reasons why he and no man, or woman, could ever be good enough to win her love and knowing that when she did love him fully in return, every sacrifice he'd ever made to earn his place here beside her would be so well worth it.
The moment she spoke those three, little words would really be all the reward he would ever need for being good, no matter how hard it was to be so at times. Besides, he knew, it would be so much harder to not be Buffy's; that, he knew, one be a Hell worse than any other he'd ever experienced, the one Hell he could never survive. "I love you," he whispered right before he fell asleep and missed her unconscious answer of "I love you, too, Spike."
The End
