𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒

[saltburntmods]

MISFIRES

a rambunctious duo in salt has stuck their nose where they shouldn't and now you can all reap the rewards! this is a MISFIRES meme. post a header for your character, and receive accidental texts from your local saltburntian guests. nudes, nasties, confessions of a certain persuasion? things you'd otherwise never write or send? they're all on the table. (meme threads aren't game canon, but they're not not game canon either, right)

Comments

[ripher]

[ The kiss is sweet and shocking, but only because it's not shocking at all. It feels as natural and normal as any other kiss, clumsy and open-mouthed and wanting, tongues and teeth and the faint taste of her lip gloss. If he closed his eyes, she could be anyone -- but he finds that he doesn't want to close his eyes; he doesn't want it to be anyone. He wants it to be her, wants it to be Buffy, and he barely has room inside him for that revelation as she crowds desperately into him and slides herself up and down on his cock, grinding and bouncing in his lap.

He shudders with it, crying out softly, and leans in to kiss her again, one hand rising so he can push his fingers into her hair and hold her there while he kisses her, hard, full of guilt and grief, joy and love and desire. When he breaks away it's so he can put his forehead against hers for a moment. ]

Buffy. [ Broken, shivering -- he's close again, unbelievably enough. ] Buffy, I love you.

[bronze]

( there's no real mystery to the things that get buffy off — it's the same as when she was a little girl, afraid of a life without her father in it. now, it's the reassurance that gets her there, not just an i love you, but an i love you despite or an i love you because. she doesn't think he'd say it if he didn't mean it — and part of her knew, the way adored and spoiled children always know, that her father loves her most of all. hearing it, like this? despite the mistake being made, or because of it. despite that she looks like the spitting image of her dead mother at nineteen, or because she's a little, living part of her still to this day. in the end, she doesn't care about all the reasons giles might give to love her, and instead finds satisfaction just in the fact that he'd say it, pressed against her lips, dick diamond hard inside her.

bleeding affection is molten and thick inside her, some different kind of armor than giles offers. it feels like a fist in the center of her stomach, buried in her cunt — sharp and a little scary, rampant bouncing growing needier, more desperate the closer she gets. buffy gets louder, crying out, cunt slick, sensitive, hungry. )

I — Giles, I love y-you too. So, so much.

( it doesn't register to her that calling her dad by the last name they share is weirder than weird, though not exactly at fucking your dad levels of weird. it feels natural to say while her body fractures apart, throwing her face into the crook of his neck while she's convulses around him, legs shaking as the pressure of an orgasm courses through her in waves. she goes from moaning to whining, palming sweaty hands around his shoulders and neck, eventually lapping up the salty side of his throat to moan into his ear, voice babydoll feminine, sultry. )

I don't like it when you give it to other girls. ( her teeth sink into his lobe, nipping, humming in his ear. her pussy still slides up and down his dick like a pole, because buffy is a giver — because buffy doesn't think any of it is worth it, if giles doesn't give her a treat at the end. good kitty. ) You're mine, mine, mine. I want you to fill your baby girl up, and put your come right where it belongs, Daddy. Can you, please? For me?

[ripher]

[ They've never done this before, but Giles already feels as though he knows every inch of her -- why not, when she's part of him, surely the very best of his body and mind, the part he values the most walking out in the world? He's held her during moments of joy and sadness, dried her tears and brushed her hair, caught her to stop her falling, watched over her when she slept. He's argued with her and laughed with her and admired her from a distance as she described arcs and circles across the ice. The newness isn't new, not really; he knows those hands and tear-wet eyelashes. He sees Joyce in the curve of her bare shoulder and the way she catches her breath in a hiccup of pleasure. But most of all it's just Buffy. Undeniable, demanding, brave, tireless.

It's only the second time he's seen and felt her come, but this time it's better, deeper and stronger. He puts his arms around her and kisses her temple, her ear, the damp strands of her hair, groaning as her body clamps tight around his cock, muscles pulsing against him.

Mine, she breathes in his ear, low, debauched. Put your come right where it belongs, and she's right, how could it belong anywhere else? If anyone's earned it -- if anyone needs it -- it's Buffy, his darling girl. He wants, desperately, to make things right, to give her anything she wants as long as it means she'll be okay, that she'll be his girl a little while longer, and not lost in the world of darkness and sickness and monsters -- ]

Buffy. [ He moans, and it's all the warning she gets as he slides his hands under her thighs, lifting her up and turning in the same movement so he can roll them both over, almost throwing her down onto her back on the bed, cock still sliding wet and slick between her legs so he hardly misses a stroke.

Gathering a knee under himself, forearm braced beside her head and the other hand stroking her face, he fucks into her in long deep thrusts. Close, so close, but wanting to hold on to every moment, to memorise every part of how this feels. He drags a clumsy hand over her forehead, brushing back her hair, looking down into her eyes, so like her mother's. Each movement of his body against hers sounds wet and obscene; it only makes him want her more. ]

Buffy, ah -- tell me you want this.

[bronze]

( she's still more of an orgasm than a girl, barely registering being rolled over, body still hot, tight, clenching around him, thighs shaking at his sides. she might black out for a second, just under the pressure of how good it feels, long swaths of sweaty skin lined up together, giles in and around every inch of her. heaven. pouty mouth stuck open and gasping, her breath hiccups on every perfect slide forward, hips instinctively dancing back on his cock, mourning his loss on every thrust out. there isn't a corner of buffy that can't be described as needy, starving, wanton — every part of her is inching closer to him, pink fingernails on his shoulders, demanding he stay close, that he never leave.

there's already a nod in her motions before he gets the words out, a natural yes, daddy, whatever you want, present for anything he could want from her. she'd give it, no matter what. heavily, her eyes blink back open, stars in her vision, staring giles in the eye while he fucks her, watching him do it. her hands flatten on his cheeks, chin tilting up to kiss him, nodding against him. )

Want it. ( it comes out whiny, pleading. how could he think otherwise? she kisses at his mouth, around his face — peppered, brief kisses on his nose and his eyelids, like she can't stop herself. chanting, ) Please, please, please, pleaseplease. Daddy — ( eventually she just can't get close enough, arms tangling around his neck, crushing him to her, trying to get all his weight on top of her. ) Need you, please.

[ripher]

[ They're making a mess of the bed, sheets and blankets rucked up, a spreading damp patch underneath their bodies. The frame creaks and rattles with each thrust, but Giles doesn't hear it, his world made up of the fuck-drunk look on Buffy's face, dishevelled and tasting of sweat and desire. He breathes open-mouthed into their kiss, chasing her back when she pulls away, groaning underneath her words, her devotion.

How could he ever have doubted her? That she was his, that she would always be his. Somewhere in the back of his mind he berates himself for leaving her, for every time he left her, for every tear she shed, for every moment he wasn't there, the foundation of this need. The rest of him is occupied with fucking her as thoroughly as he can, not caring if this is a mistake, making it worth it. ]

Buffy, Buffy -- [ He drags himself away from her kisses, mouthing her name against her cheek, her sweat-damp temple, into her hair. His orgasm builds and builds, tight and hot inside him, until his movements become automatic, hips stuttering and shuddering, grinding into her half-forgetting where and who he is.

He comes like that, gritting out a curse between his teeth as he spills into her for the second time, throbbing and shaking on the raw edge of it. As it crests and breaks, he catches himself on his arms above her, muscles trembling, panting, nose pushed up against her cheek. His pulse beats hard in his chest and his dick. ]

Buffy.. [ He whispers her name. Reality grips him like a hand on his shoulder. He wants to shake it off. He should leave. He doesn't want to move. ]