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obviously5believers ([personal profile] obviously5believers) wrote in [community profile] summer_of_giles2017-07-31 08:25 pm

Fic: Thin Ice (Buffy/Giles) - NC-17

Title: Thin Ice
Rating: NC-17/FRAO
Pairing: Giles/Buffy
Setting: Post Chosen, no comics
Word Count: 821
Warnings: Mild kink, explicit sex
A/N: Not beta'd. I'm attempting a multi-chapter fic, but I'm horrible at actually updating, so I apologise in advance for the time it'll take me between chapters.
AO3

Summary: Buffy is introduced to a new way to view her Watcher.


Chapter 1

Buffy moaned as he pushed his fingers deeper inside her. His other hand was caressing her breast; alternating soft touches with pinching her nipple. She was panting, eyes closed underneath the blindfold he'd tied around her head, her hands and arms straining against the bonds around her wrists, attached to the headboard. She was close; her walls gripping his fingers in an ever increasing rhythm, her breath coming in short pants; her hips lifting off the bed when his thumb brushed her clit. "God", she moaned. "Please".

And then, all of a sudden, his fingers were gone, his hand removed from her breast. She could her the creak of the bed as he shifted, could hear his deep breaths even over her own. She wanted to look at him, but he'd tied the blindfold well, and the material was too thick and dark to see through.

"Giles?" she asked. She felt one of his fingers on her lip. It was wet with her juices. She moaned again.

"Ssshh." His voice was a mere whisper. If she hadn't been so tuned in to his entire being, she might've mistaken it for the wind outside.

She was still breathing hard, frustration starting to seep into her body, but she complied nonetheless.

She felt the mattress dip and veer up as he left the bed, then heard the sound of a drawer being opened. He was rummaging through its contents for what seemed hours to Buffy. Finally he closed it again and returned to the bed. She could feel him on top of her, straddling her. His thumb briefly flicked her clit again, and the suddenness of it made Buffy gasp. She wasn't sure if she was imagining it or not – she wasn't really thinking clearly anymore – but she could've sworn she could almost hear his grin. Then she definitely heard a cap being unscrewed and liquid being squirted out of a bottle. She tensed when she felt his left hand move underneath her, his finger, slick with lubricant, probing her anus. Her gasp quickly turned into a moan when he slowly pushed the digit inside of her. His other hand returned to her clit, softly rubbing it with his thumb, the other fingers moving over her slick opening. The combined stimulation was overwhelming and drove Buffy over the edge quicker than she would've thought possible, even considering how close she'd already been before. As she screamed his name, he brought both hands up to her breasts and gently massaged them as she came down. Her breath was still coming in short, quick gasps when he took one of her nipples into his mouth and bit down hard. She came again, surprising even herself, moaning and gasping for breath.

"Fuck", she groaned, when she had regained enough of her self-control to speak again.

She felt him grin against the skin of her belly, where he'd been alternating licks with kisses as she came down again.

"I take it you approve of this new training method?", he asked, the amusement clear in his voice.

***

Buffy woke with a start, covered in sweat and still flushed with only slowly fading arousal. That had to be the most confusing sex dream she'd ever had. Or the most confusing sex dream anyone had ever had, maybe. She got up out of bed for a drink of water, and, mostly, to throw some of it in her face, and sprinkle some on her neck and arms. She caught her own eyes in the mirror, and was surprised by the intensity of the arousal still present there. She shivered, rubbed her eyes, and returned to her bedroom. Part of her wanted to curl up in her bed and go back to sleep, but the part that realised that her sheets were still damp decided against it. She sat down on the edge of her bed instead, and rubbed her arms. She had to admit to herself that she was slightly freaked out. Okay, more than slightly. More freaked out than a sex dream actually warranted, even if it was one that featured Giles. Now that she could feel reality reassert itself again – the remnants of the dream, and with it her arousal, fading enough to look at them from a distance, instead of feeling like she was still in the middle of it – she could evaluate the dream more rationally. What she found didn't make her feel any better though. While she hadn't been able to see anything in the dream, she'd had the distinct feeling – no, she'd known – that it had taken place in the past. In Giles' Sunnydale apartment, to be precise. She couldn't tell how she knew, exactly, but she did.

But the overwhelming feeling that she was left with, the one that accounted for most of her confusion, because it made no damn sense, was that it felt exactly like one of her prophetic dreams. .