#spike btvs imagine
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Warmer than a Comforter
pairing(s): Spike x fem!reader
summary: it wasn't unusual for Spike to 'break' into your apartment, but it was unusual for him to want to spend the night.
warnings: very long (4.4k words), spike being a simp, one bed trope, dry humping, thigh fucking, masturbation, some fingering, slight praise, Spike being Spike, a smidge of possessiveness, and thats about it
It was no secret to anyone your favorite time of day was long after the sun went down. A full-time college student who worked a part time job on top of that was no easy feat. Your time during the day was never your time, it was your shitty professors time who assigned reading after reading that needed to be read for the never-ending stream of papers and theses, it belonged to your shitty boss who piled on tons of paperwork and demanded you be at his beck and call even after you clocked out. As much as you loved them, your time off belonged to your friends; patrolling, looking through dusty-old books, trying not to die every time you stepped out of your apartment.
When you got home (if there was no patrolling to be done), it was your time and while you were tired, you made time for your nightly routine. You'd slip off your shoes and walk in the dark to make it to your room to turn on your lamp, because you'd be damned if you were turning on one of the big lights this late.
You would usually strip down and dig a pair of pajamas out of your drawers before taking a scalding shower. You'd brush your teeth and wash your face, maybe if you had the energy, you'd do a face mask and paint your nails. You'd turn on your stereo or switch on your TV to fall asleep to the fuzzy sound and soft light. This, of course, is what you'd be doing right now had you not walked into your house with company.
You could see him lounging on your bed, the darkness of his attire somehow darker than your unlit room. His duster slung on the back of your desk chair, only clothed in some tight navy shirt and jeans.
"What are you doing here, Spike?" You crossed your arms over your chest, annoyed when you realized he had his dirty ass boots on your bed.
"M' paying my favorite Scooby a visit." You walked over to turn on your lamp, giving you enough light to see how smug he was. His arms sat behind his head, his eyes glittering with amusement. He was doing this to annoy you. He did most things just to annoy you.
"Pay another Scooby a visit." You were dead tired, practically forcing your eyes open. You had just gotten back from work, your bag still in your hand which you used to knock his legs off your bed. He could've been stubborn, but he let you.
You stripped off your hoodie, flashing him your stomach as your undershirt rose with the movement. He whistled, "Scandalous."
"Get out of my apartment." You tossed your hoodie at him while rolling your eyes. He caught it midair, bringing it to his nose to sniff it.
"Smells different. You using a different bodywash?" You hummed as you walked around your room to find something suitable to wear to bed. It was dreadfully hot out, even worse than what you'd expect from a California summer. You had at least 3 fans going anytime you were here, especially since your landlord could never seem to find a permanent solution to the junky A.C unit.
"Midnight Rose. Real fancy stuff." You hadn't even noticed a difference, but of course Spike would. Vampire senses had a way of being intrusive in a way that was only helpful when it came to your cycle and saving you bed sheets.
"I like the other one better: the cocoa butter one. It was fainter. You smelt more like you." You scoffed.
"Duly noted." Your hands roamed over the old t-shirts from high school and camisole tops so old the straps had snapped on a couple of them.
Spike sat up on your bed, untying the laces on his shoes haphazardly before setting them by your bedroom door. He roamed around like you had been, picking up bottles of nail polish and flipping through one of the books on your shelf.
"You could spare me a bit of your attention, love. I mean I did go through the trouble of-"
"Breaking into my apartment?" You interrupted.
"On second thought, it was a bit easy. I pushed it a bit and the window came right out. Are you leaving it open for somebody?" His tone was supposed to sound much more teasing than it did. There was a pang in his chest, probably of jealousy. Much to his chagrin, he was jealous a lot these days and he couldn't quite tell if his frequent visits were enabling that or the very cause of it. Either way, it was hard not to just crawl through your window anytime he pleased.
You acted like you were annoyed and if he had a dollar for every time you threatened to call Buffy on him, he wouldn't need to dumpster dive for furniture. If he had another dollar for every time, you never followed through, he'd be even richer. You said it's because you could handle yourself without her help, but, admittedly, you didn't hate his company that much.
As far as house guests go, it could be worse. It's not like he eats all your food, talks your ears off, or is unfunny. He was just there. A pain in your ass sometimes, like when he insists on being half a step behind you during patrols and never fails to tell you how great your ass looks from behind. Never a malevolent presence, just annoyingly noticeable.
His boots were clunky, and he smelled of faint cigarettes and alcohol. He also hated silence. He was fidgety and anxious, even if his intentions were stealth, he couldn't help but break the tension and open his mouth. At times against his will, he just wanted to be noticed that bad. He just needed to be around you that bad.
"I keep telling the landlord to fix it, but he insists it's just fine. 'Nothin' some glue won't fix'." But you had tried gluing it. Had it not been for the clear shit jammed in the lock, the window would've just come right open with the flick of a finger.
"I could fix it for you." He went ignored while you had made your way to your bathroom, taking your hair down from the claw clip it had been stuck in for the past few hours. A slight moan of relief slipped through your lips as your fingers carded through it to massage your scalp.
"You know how to fix windows?"
"Well...no. But it can't be that hard. I've been around a few hundred years, surely I can figure out how to fix a bloody window." What he meant to say (if he had the balls) was that he would be more than happy to learn how to fix a window for you. It would give him an excuse to hang around, it would keep him in your good graces for a solid month, and he wouldn't have to break an entering anymore. Granted, his preferred place of entry had long been broken and he could always come through the front door, but it was a matter of principle.
You looked him up and down, trying to decipher if this was a set up for a joke or if he was actually serious, but he kept his head down. He hadn't been able to blush since he was a human, but the habit had a way of rearing its head for you.
He was so pretty too. With his high cheekbones and the way the warm light made his complexion look less ghastly. As ironic and cliche as it would be to say, he looked slightly angelic. Like one who fell from Heaven and donned the dark and mysterious charade to make it hurt less. He would burn away under a cross just to make it back to Heaven. Nearly break his spine falling out of windows and bleed out taking stabs if it meant he was closer to your doors. If there was one thing Spike did well, it was devotion.
"You wouldn't even know where to start. I'll just call Xander or something."
"What're you gonna do that for!"
"Because, Spike," you laughed incredulously, confused as to if this was going to become an argument or form a chip on his shoulder. "If I want something fixed, I'm going to call someone who does it for a living."
"But would Xander do it for free?"
"Would you?"
"I wouldn't charge anything of monetary value." You snorted, not surprised at all with his answer.
"You are such a whore, you know that?"
"What can I say, baby?" He leaned against the door frame of your bathroom, where you stood staring at your reflection in the mirror. He was happy that his nonexistent reflection could betray him. He was grateful to be a part of this routine - your routine- in a way that didn't disrupt your peace. It was soft. Almost domestic.
You were so meticulous about the way you scrubbed your face and brushed your teeth. He liked how when you took off your makeup the glitter remained. You sparkled at the right angles, really fucking sparkled. Of course, he was going to sit and stare at you; mascara still not completely wiped away, hair tied back with a fuzzy headband, lips agitated from being bit throughout the day. It was poetic. Second nature to him. He didn't need to breath, but it came to him then, overwhelming and filling his lungs like water until he was full as he stared at you in the mirror with not even his own reflection to judge him.
"I'm gonna hop in the shower."
"How rude, without me?" Damn, he sounded like a bloody idiot. You only looked him up and down, trying to appear deeply disgusted but stopped just shy of mildly annoyed.
"Get out of my apartment before I stake you." You slammed the bathroom door in his face, hiding your blush behind the wood.
"That's not a no." His voice is muffled behind the door, and as much as you'd like to believe he didn't hear it, you did laugh.
***********************************************************
Spike had to have been a cat in a previous life, is what you decided when you found him still on your bed, nose in some magazine he found pretending to care about the newest Natasha Denona palette.
"That crypt must be uncomfortable as hell for you to still be here." You skated around your room to sink beside him. He reaches across his side to pull out a bottle of water and hands it to you.
"Your showers are hot as hell; I'm surprised you didn't pass out in there." He flips through the pages nonchalantly, pretending not to be incredibly fixated at the water dripping from the nape of your neck and disappearing into your shirt.
"You would've loved that, wouldn't you? Getting to play 'knight and shining armor' while I'm conveniently naked." The sound waxy pages being torn was a surprise. So much of you and his banter was contingent on the assumption that neither of you meant anything serious so nothing would become anything.
Spike, who spent most of his mortal adult life swallowing his feelings until his stomach became an endless chasm where his feelings went to fester rather than die, was more than okay with this unspoken arrangement. Sarcasm was a second language to you. You were used to your words not mattering, especially since in your group of friends, your existence seemed to matter far less than everyone else's. You wondered if that was why you and Spike got along so well.
He just got you. Maybe a side effect of him being around you whenever he could. He just got you. In a stupid way. In an annoying way. The kind of way that made you worried that reading minds was also one of his vampiric powers. He wormed his stupid way into your brain, slithering around in his own sort of Spike way til you didn't know where his influence began.
He did sort of have this hypnotic way of speech. Maybe because he was a poet. Poets have to have some sort of hypnotic power, right? Surely, there was some connection between rhythms and brain waves that made the effect of Spike's voice so persuasive. Maybe it's not the rhythm and it's just the honesty. Ironic, since the basis of your "relationship" was built on never assuming that the other meant what they said, but who cares. It gave you guys flavor. Something to keep things interesting.
"I'll have you know; I am a very old-fashioned guy with manners." You snorted as his response. He talked about his "old-fashioned" ways a lot. Maybe to convince you that he was a gentleman. Gentleman your ass, you'd seen what he kept in his crypt.
"My deepest apologies for assuming that a guy that used railroad spikes as a murder weapon of choice wouldn't be above jumping at the opportunity to see me naked."
"Am I that transparent?"
"When it comes to mirrors, yeah." His scoff was lost in the sound of a car horn going off across the street. Damn, you needed a new place. He had complained to you about the noise before. If you didn't leave near a busy street, he would try his luck spending the night far more than he already did. Each blare deepened the scowl on his face as he flinched at the sound, even louder from where he sat in front of it.
"Those death buggies have to be the worst thing to come out of the 20th century. So obnoxious, and for what?"
"I imagine they are more convenient than horse drawn carriages."
"Yeah, more convenient and not even half the charm." He turned his head to gaze out the window. "It's not even a nice car! I'd rather ride around in the fucking Angel Mobile than drive around in that thing."
"You are so dramatic. Usually I just," you swing your leg over his waist, straddling and reaching over to close the window. He swallowed hard at the feeling of your chest pressing against the magazine, the only boundary between him and you, and the nonchalance of the action. "Shut the window." You felt him tense beneath you, his right hand awkwardly meeting your hip, blue eyes staring up at you through dark eyelashes. "Then again, I'm not a pansy who needs complete silence to sleep."
He cleared his throat before he spoke. "I sleep in a cemetery, love, ain't much noise around those parts." His eyes wandered everywhere they could but the worst part about beautiful people is that there is no unsightly place to avert your gaze. He couldn't stare at your gorgeous eyes, or your stunning nose, or your lips to distract himself from the steadily growing boner that you were sitting right on top of. You were no better than he was.
Within the context of the unspoken agreement, this meant absolutely nothing. The boner was just a normal reaction, that didn't have to mean anything. The way he was looking at you was a bit hard to ignore, but that was the way he always looked at you. He was a lot closer right now, sure, but that stupid lovesick look that you have spent years trying to ignore, totally just a joke. Not real at all. A trick of the light, in fact. The hard-on was very real though.
After sitting there for a few seconds too long, you shift your weight to move back to your side of the bed, but his hands keep you in your place. " 'm cold", he mutters, his thumb rubbing circles between where your shorts meet your bare skin.
"Yeah?" You feel him pressing up against your core. "I didn't think you could get cold."
" Me either but-", you lowered yourself completely on his clothed dick and the groan he let out was salacious. "Here we are." The frigid way he moved made his lie believable. Incredibly cautious, hesitant. No idea what to do with himself. He ran his hands along your thighs, up and down your side, one cold hand sliding underneath your shirt, rubbing the hem of it between his pointer finger and his thumb.
You leaned forward, warm breath fanning against his nose. It smelled like mint. You smelled like some sort of cocoa butter. Smooth and soft on top of him and he didn't know if you were going to roll right off or melt into his skin. Your hands come to the sides of his face, and you stare intently at him. He felt like he was under a microscope with the way you looked at him like you were committing each detail of him to memory so that even when you closed his eyes, it was still him burning in the forefront of your mind.
"You gonna kiss me?" You whispered, pressing yourself further into him. He let out a breathy laugh.
"What, a guy's always gotta make the first move?" With that, you leaned down to give him what was meant to be a quick peck. A tester. A tease. But when you give Spike an inch, he takes a mile, and he took the opportunity to devour you. Mouth open, sloppy, wet kisses while his hands worked as eagerly as his tongue did. You were a calming presence, slow and sane as you grabbed fistfuls of his shirt to try and ground the both of you.
Breathing through your nose, you inhaled him. The faint smell of smoke, the fresh smell of whatever he washed the gel from his hair with, the distinctly Spike musk. Your thighs wrapped him more closely, subtly grinding into his lap, ignoring the slight burn on your knees from the friction between them and your sheets. His large hands covered swathes of skin, cooling you where you grew too hot from his touch. When he had his fill, he broke away from you, still nose to nose, a string of saliva still between the two of you.
"Do you wanna spend the night?" Your voice was somehow meek as if there was any way in hell he would say no to you. He breathed out, turning his head into the crook of your neck, leaving searing kisses on your silky skin, worshipping at his altar, and thanking who or whatever got him here tonight. He kisses you from your neck, along your jawline, to the corner of your lips.
"Yes", he whispers against your skin. He bucks his hips into you, the imprint of his cock and the rough material of his jeans kissing your pussy through the thin layers of material. You nearly choke on his tongue at the feeling. Fuck.
Your eyes are closed, hips moving furiously against his, too blissed out to even care about the steadily growing wet patch in your underwear. You're lost in kisses, kisses that overwhelm and confuse and steal your breath until you wonder how much you need to breathe anyway. Along with not needing to breathe, you learned they must have incredible resolve. He chases you. Not like how a wolf chases a lamb but how the sun chases the moon.
He pulls and you push for breath, some sort of reprieve, some time for your mind to catch up with your body because right now everything but the way the seams of his jeans catch your clit is one of the only things on your mind. He pulls you, still, his hands squeezing at your waist, moving up to cup your breasts, thumbing at your nipples, and flicking the already hard peaks. And you push, still, not in protest but in harmony. Your hips pressing down, his jerking up. Your hands tugging his hair, his squeezing your waist. It was good. It was so good.
"What is the point", he starts breathlessly, "of these damn shorts if they're so thin. You're leaking right through, love." He smiles against you, sharp teeth grazing against your cheek as he smirks.
"Take 'em off me then." For once in his life, he takes his time. The desperation of his prior movements forgotten as he looks at you as he trails a finger from your chest down between the valley of your breasts, to your navel. He draws invisible shapes along your stomach, diamonds, hearts, and letters spelling m-i-n-e. And he stalls there. Looking from beneath you, smug as you ground yourself onto his dick in an attempt to move him along.
He was amused. Fascinated. You in your own world, mewling, moaning, putting on a show just for him. Choosing to ignore how sticky your panties had gotten, how much they stuck to your cunt as you wiggled your hips as if you could get any closer. Your tits moving with you, the way your mouth was slightly agape, the way you keened when you rubbed against him just right. It was no motivation for him to move his hands at all, not when it was much more rewarding to angle his hips up and make you see stars. "You gonna cum like this?" He crooned, full of fake sympathy.
"You're really gonna make me get myself off." You rolled your eyes, maybe out of pleasure, maybe out of faux annoyance. Either way, his hand slithered to the waistband of your shorts and dipped even deeper. He left feather-light touches on your clit which sent jolts of electricity up your spine. Overcome with the tightening feeling in your belly, your hands grabbed at his shoulders as your hips worked and worked you snapped. Impossibly wet and dazed, you rocked into him until the high had passed and the stars had left from behind your eyelids leaving only Spike.
His fingers still, in your panties, he moves to slide them and your shorts off your body. You hover slightly, still too sensitive to rub your bare pussy against him. You fidget with the button of his jeans and zipper, Spike's hands coming to cover yours to ease the shakiness. Maybe to give the appearance that he was much calmer than he was. He was painfully hard, and you felt it when you palmed him through his boxers after getting his pants down enough. Where his tip sat was a wet spot. You smirked.
"Did I get your dick that wet?" A shiver went down his spine. The heat from your palm was felt through his boxers. Your hand was barely big enough to cover it. Before either of you was prepared for it, he flipped you on your back. His hands sat on either side of your head while yours removed him from his boxers. He was so big.
You tore your gaze away from his cock to meet his gaze. He still looked at you the same. Pupils widened from lust, cheeks with a slightly pink tinge, lips puffy, eyes looking down at you with the same look they always had. It's then he leans down to kiss you for the millionth time. No urgency, less messy, a kiss like he was trying to wake you from a thousand-year slumber.
Your hand still on his cock, you pumped it a few times, swiping your thumb against his tip to lubricate his dick. He groaned into your mouth, humming in pleasure. You try to line him up to sink in your hole, but he slaps you on the wrist. "Don't want your cunt tonight," he mumbled in between kisses, "Jus' let me feel you."
He pumped his cock a few times before slotting it in between the meat of your thighs. The veins and ridges of his dick would occasionally slide between your folds, but that wasn't the focus. No matter how much you wiggled for him to plant his cock so far deep it kissed your cervix, you were ignored as he squeezed your thighs together, panting as he fucked them.
The juxtaposition made your head dizzy. The softness with which he kissed you and the fervor of his dick between your thighs, them getting wetter with the accumulation of precum leaking from his dick. It only forced him to press harder, leaving handprints from how hard he gripped. "Such a pretty thing, aren't you." He sighed out, his pace still even but his breaths far from it. "Go ahead and touch that pretty cunt f' me."
As much as your brain wasn't working, it wasn't needed to do what you were told. Bleary-headed, your hand traveled from the outside of your leg to between your folds. Still wet from your previous orgasm, it didn't take much to just slip a couple fingers in, moaning as you did. One hand toyed with your tit as the other toyed with your clit, your hips wanting to buck into your hand had it not been for Spike's palm on your stomach.
Had he had the composure, he would have made some sarcastic comment. Slow down, love, what's the rush, is what he would've said had his thrusts not been as sloppy as they were. He pulled away from your lips to see the mess he was making. White beads pooled on the skin of your stomach, dripping down your thighs like liquid pearls. And you. Low warm light bouncing off your skin, lip tucked in your teeth, staring right up at him. It took all of him not to cum at the sight.
Not before you did, he decided, which by the way your moans pitched up wasn't that far away. Each "accidental" slide into you was met with a jerk of your hips. "Stop it", you squealed, the bucking of your hips screaming otherwise.
"Feels too good, doesn't it." Then he did it again. His large hand drifts around before grabbing your abandoned tit, groping it until you hit your limit again. Your chest heaved unevenly as you tried to catch your breath as Spike's hips sped up, stuttered, then stopped as his cum splashed on your stomach and breasts.
Spent and not knowing what to do, he kisses you again. He smiles into it, and to his surprise, you do too. Like it was the only thing that made sense to do. The fuzz gradually fades from your mind, the noise from the multiple fans running and the faint humming of electricity apparent again. There's a breeze coming in from your window and you giggle.
"Are you still cold?"
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Evol (or, a backwards love story)
Pairing: Spike x reader
Request: Hey I love your spike x reader fics I was wondering if you could do one were like they both have a crush on eachother and he invites her over to his crypt but it's super fluffy and he makes it all romantic with candles and shit
Reader isn't a big fan of pink but doesn't like hate it or anything (just a heads up in case you love pink (like me) and it takes you out of the story).
Requested by: anon
A/N: Be kind please this is the first fic I've done in ages! Hope this is okay, love 💖
You had been in deep thought, your mind travelling ahead of you as your limbs tried to follow. But your wandering mind had led you down an unknown path. You had taken a strange turn somewhere and found yourself in unchartered territory.
You were at a crossroads, in almost pitch darkness. The streetlights had disappeared a couple of streets ago and you weren’t entirely sure where you were. You were fumbling through the dark now, trying to find something to hold onto, to anchor you.
You found yourself connecting with something, a figure in the shadows. You groaned, the last thing you needed tonight was to get eaten, your top was brand new. You recoiled slightly but a pair of steady hands righted you. He, of course, could see in the dark.
“What’re you doing round these parts, pet?” His voice came from the darkness, retracting his hands, a flame from his lighter ignited so that you could see.
“Got kinda turned around… I’m lost”
“Can’t have that, can we, love? If you’re not careful somethin’ nasty might eat you up” His eyes glinted with amusement, his lips curled slightly in that irresistible way he did. Even when he was being ‘evil’ he was attractive to you. You were doomed to fall for him.
“What did we talk about Spike?”
“Too much?”
“Only a little” you smiled despite yourself, now unable to look up from your feet. You were afraid that you would reveal too much, he could read you like a book. He always had, ever since you met a year ago.
It was tongues and teeth. Blood and sweat. You were backed against the wall, the vibrations from the music pulsing through you. You grasped the black t-shirt that clung to him so perfectly, the vampire you had only heard about.
You knew he and Buffy had faced each other on numerous occasions, you just happened to miss him each time. You had met them in college and had only known of the stories about William the Bloody at this point. But you always liked to judge people for yourself, anyway. And, well, you hadn’t realised how beautiful he was, you had been taken by him as soon as he stomped up to the bar and sulkily ordered a beer.
You heard voices through the crowd, through the headiness of that moment. Voices you recognised. You pulled away, your face a picture; as if you had seen a ghost. You weren’t supposed to be here,
“Go home” He had hissed, covering you as you slid away. Taking Buffy’s attention.
You should have known then he had a soft spot. Or, well, the potential for one. Usually he would have relished the awkwardness of Buffy walking in to find you kissing a vampire. Drinking with demons and beating them at kitten poker. But if he had the chance to do that again he wasn’t going to ruin it by getting the ultimate mood slayer involved, now was he.
But you hadn’t ever had any real time alone since. Sure, sometimes it felt like you were both the only people in the room but there was barely a chance to even allude to what you had done let alone reignite the moment again. Though he of course tried at every moment he got.
“Got have plans, love? My crypt’s only down the way” he spoke softly, almost tentatively if you didn’t know better.
“I’m late. I’m supposed to meet some… friends” You hesitated and you knew he caught it before you looked back into his eyes. Eyes you were slowly being lost in.
“Not those bloody losers again. You’re better than them”
“Those losers are actually my friends”
“Friends that you hide yourself from” He shrugged, not entirely able to drop it. He couldn’t hide his distaste for Buffy and the others.
Despite it all he gestured with his head, offering to take you to your friends. Even though you knew Sunnydale quite well after moving into your dorm a year ago and running around the town many times after (or often away from) demons, you still got lost a lot. It was a kind of running joke amongst the other scoobies.
He lit a cigarette as you rounded the corner, only pausing to offer you one which you declined with a soft smile. A smile that made him want to drop to his knees and declare his undying love for you. It pained him, how soft he was for you.
He shoved the other hand in the pocket of his duster, jaw tensing as he saw your friends speaking rapidly, apparently concerned about something. Willow noticed you first.
“We thought you’d been all ookified, we were worried!” She flung herself around you with a big smile of relief.
“You got lost, huh?” Buffy said with a smile, which quickly dropped when she noticed the company you were in.
“Yeah, Spike helped me get my bearings. Thanks, again” You grinned, despite Xander and Buffy’s distaste. Anya patted your head a little patronisingly at your habit of getting yourself lost.
“Anytime, pet”
“Yeah, right, evil dead is only good for being evil… and dead”
“Not that I’m not enjoying the boy’s wit, but I’ll be off now” He addressed only you, hoping to keep the barbs at his expense from the group to a minimum. Someone muttered something distasteful about Spike, which was of course in his earshot, but he didn’t turn back around.
“He’s, like, the lowest of the low.” someone agreed, shaking her head at the figure walking away.
You weren’t sure why that moment was the moment. Why you spoke something that had been so safely unspoken.
“Spike! Spike, wait-”
“Y/n, what’re you doing?!” your friends called after you, still in earshot as Spike ditched his cigarette and swung around to face you.
“Love, you go and do the friendship thing with the meddlin’ kids, okay? I’d rather stake myself than spend an evening with them”
“I know, I was wondering if the offer’s still on that is, well, I’m free tomorrow night”
He put both hands in his duster, rocking on the balls of his feet and looking down. It was as if he thought you were being cruel to him. Taking him up on his offer just to hurt him by rejecting him in the next breath with all your friends watching. He had to know you better than that, surely.
You reached for his arm, willing him to feel what you felt. Know what you knew. That you and him were meant for each other, that this chance that you were trying to take meant a lot. For someone you had kissed so passionately before it was strange how nervous you were suddenly at even grazing his skin.
“After sunset, tomorrow at your crypt?” You asked softly, though the vulnerability in your voice bled through. He saw it, he saw that your intentions were pure. There were some gasps and some vague unimpressed whispering from your friends behind you but you couldn’t bring yourself to take notice.
Instead you waited with bated breath for his answer. You knew he had offered earlier but there was always the chance he was doing it to tease you. That he had no interest in you. That he was playing with you, looking for something quick and easy. You could do that, of course you could, if it meant being close with him. But it may just break your heart beyond recognition.
This purgatory, which only lasted a second, felt like it lasted hours. Your grip on him tightened, as if you were afraid he would slip away from you.
He nodded, to anyone else it probably looked as if he wasn’t bothered. What he didn’t know was that you could read him in the way he did for you. You saw the slight upturn of his mouth before it disappeared, you noticed the way his eyes searched you with wonder for a fraction of a moment. You knew then, for sure, he felt for you as deeply as you had started to fall for him. Everything you had learned about him you held close, collecting it as the most valuable treasures.
You arrived the next night a minute after the sun set and promptly knocked on the door of Spike’s crypt. You could hear some scuffling about from behind the door and a lot of a British accent muttering ‘bloody bollocks’ every so often which made you smile softly.
You waited patiently until he swung the door open, allowing you to walk in. You gasped, he had transformed the main level of his crypt for the evening. There were candles everywhere, on every single available surface and surrounding the sofa where there was a couple of blankets piled up and a stack of VHS tapes.
There were wilted roses that had shed their petals all over the floor beside the TV set and you tried to ignore the high probability that these came from a few of the graves surrounding the crypt. Stuck haphazardly to the walls were pink and red hearts made from crepe paper and various strips hanging about.
I mean, it was a huge fire risk but you tried to ignore this fact as you appreciated his scattered decorations. You assumed that Spike was ensuring you were aware that he thought of this as a date.
“How was your night with America’s most haunted?” Spike asked, you could tell he was genuinely interested if you had a nice evening after he left you at the Bronze.
You told him everything in complete detail, you were a keen storyteller and he adored this about you. You spoke in such detail that he could picture himself there beside you as the night played out.
“Drink, pet?”
“Please”
You looked around as he started rummaging around with bottles and glasses. You read the words on some of the hearts, your brow furrowing slightly.
“EVOL? I think it’s spelt-”
“No, love, it was meant to be- they’re from the craft store. They, well, I didn’t want it to scare you off now did I?” He turned the heart around, the word was actually ‘love’. He hadn’t wanted you to think he was coming on too strong so he had hidden the word. Though the rose petals and the various pink and red crafts might well have done that if you hadn’t realised how deeply you felt for him.
You laughed, you couldn’t help it. You hadn’t been sure if he was making sure that all this romantic stuff didn’t take away from him being bad. Telling you he was ‘evil’.
He passed you a glass, different from usual where he would just drink straight from the bottle. You were surprised to note that it was your favourite drink. It was incredibly endearing that he had learned this about you, or perhaps it was his favourite and you just had that in common.
The glow of the candlelight accentuated his features, casting shadows from his cheekbones. You felt yourself leaning into him as he spoke animatedly, it was entirely involuntary. When you thought about it, you had done everything in reverse. You were tentatively courting after sharing a much more passionate moment the night you properly met. You much preferred it this way though, in some ways it cemented now just how much Spike had grown to care for you through the stolen moments you had together through the year.
Quick glances and lingering touches. The way he had thrown himself in front of a demon to ensure you would be safe. The way he always offered to walk you home, even if he was shot down every time by the slayer. He always made jokes in the hope that you would laugh.
The evening was lovely, you shared drinks and watched films together, while Spike made biting commentary on each scene. You were wrapped in a blanket while he stayed room temperature. He sat a little more rigidly than usual, seemingly unable to relax. He wanted the night to be perfect. He was concerned he might say something wrong, something a little too murderous and off-putting.
You hadn’t really been paying attention to the film. He had done everything to try and prove he was a man worthy of your love. You could sense he was holding back but you loved him for who he was, the flaws wrapped into the thread of his personality were just as important to you.
“I really like you, Spike. You don’t need to impress me, you know that right? I’m already yours, if you’d let me be” You spoke barely above a whisper. He turned to you, searching your face before a smile grew slowly on his lips. It was a smile you had only ever seen him give to you.
“You’re tellin’ me I can take all this sodding pink bollocks off my walls now then?”
“I mean, it’s a real improvement from the cobwebs but it’s not really my colour,” You grinned, pressing your lips to his quickly before pulling away.
You leaned against him as the night progressed, leaning your head into the crook of his neck. He shifted as you moved down the sofa so that you could comfortably rest against him. He inhaled, savouring your scent. It felt like home. He closed his eyes, focusing on your heartbeat thrum steadily. You were truly here, by his side.
Your body was made to fit beside his, you knew this as if it was fact. You couldn’t imagine a future where you wouldn’t hold each other. Or share moments such as this. The warmth from the candles and the care and attention that Spike continued to show you told you that his feelings at their core were clearly no act, his execution had been slightly exaggerated only because he hadn’t really dated in the usual way for a good few decades.
He slid his arm along the headrest behind you and you settled into watch the next movie. After a moment you realised his eyes were still trained on you, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. When you looked at him, giving him a quizzical look, he just gestured back at the screen with his head a soft smile on his face.
If this was the first proper date, you were looking forward to the rest. In fact, as his arm snaked around you and pulled you close, you were not sure you would ever be ready to leave.
#spike btvs#spike x reader#spike x you#spike imagine#spike btvs x reader#spike btvs x you#spike btvs imagine#buffy the vampire slayer#btvs#btvs imagine#buffy the vampire slayer imagine#btvs x reader
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What would spike be like as a boyfriend, specifically maybe to a reader who's really short (like 4'11 to 5 foot short)...
Please don't say drop kick, that's what I got last time I asked for a comfort thing :)
Your writing is wonderful 💛💛
a/n: that’s absolutely awful that they said that, I don’t believe he would do that to be honest! And thank you so much for the kind comment, I’m completely open to criticism for my writing xx
Also I feel like it needs to be addressed his actions in season 6 - I would love a discussion about how others feel (I’ve only JUST finished watching buffy lol) and I love Spike but that episode was a mess? And I don’t want to disrespect anyone ... do we pretend it didn’t happen? do we accept him because he got his soul back?
𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕
𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐬/𝐨
⸱ I definitely think you guys have a pride & prejudice beginning. He feigned hatred and tried to ignore you. You were nothing but a mere human to him. You’re close to Buffy and her gang of merry vampire slayers, which automatically made you an enemy
⸱ And yet, there was something about you. The twinkle in your eyes whenever you look up at him, the way you smiled when the world seemed it would end in a second.
⸱ He always considered himself, the Big Bad, but when an ancient vampire named Erylis came to Sunnydale, his reputation shadowed all else. No one knew where he came from, what he looked like. But he was someone to be afraid of.
⸱ You had been captured, drank from, but given something, that once rescued, no one could understand. You did not turn, but some of Erylis’ power seeped from him to you. You were faster, stronger, keener; more awake. Any wounds healed quickly and you were able to foresee a semblence of the future.
⸱ The group helped you the best way they could; Willow was always there to listen. Xander for a shoulder to lean on, Giles for information and Buffy for strength. They still accepted you, but wanted to know what exactly you were now. Some sort of superhuman?
⸱ Spike helped resue you from Erylis; after he had the chip inplanted in his head, what else was he supposed to do? Where else would he go?
⸱ He had pulled Erylis from your neck, and although tempted himself, he saw your paled face and something in his chest changed. Cracked open? Blossomed?
⸱ Now that Spike was ... sort of apart of the gang, he spent more time with you. Especially since he was the only one who wasn’t frightened of you. (The group still loved you, but they did have some apprehension, would you hurt someone? Did you need to feed?)
⸱ Spike was there when some of the questions about your change were answered. In short, there was small experiements. Like eating usual food; did it fill you up the same? Were you craving something else? Nope, it was like before. Except what you had liked before (possibly sweets, or chips etc,.) were intensified. And what you didn’t like seemed repulsive.
⸱ You had no desire to hurt other people, except those who had wronged you. You felt things more deeply, and the things that helped humans seemed to help you x100.
⸱ You always carry lavender and chamomile to help calm you down.
⸱ After getting to know you, he was smitten. He would try his best not to show it, but there was his possessive side that wanted to jump out whenever someone showed any type of interest in you
⸱ And you know what, you felt the same way. When he would be around any other girl, there was a flash of pain in your chest. You cared so deeply for him. But you tried not to show it; I mean Willow caught on. She caught on fast, then Buffy and Giles. Xander was completely oblivious.
⸱ When you had your first kiss, he would’ve leant down, while you were on your tippy toes.
⸱ He’s is vERY protective of you, even though you’re more durable than he is. Every demon knows there will be hell to pay if they go anywhere NEAR you.
⸱ So, it’s actually a good thing for you and the gang... that you and Spike are together, it’s like they have an extra layer of protection.
⸱ However, that does put Spike at risk. But he has plenty of enemies anyway, so he’s used to it
⸱ He likes it when he’s laying between your legs, head resting against your chest as you stroke his face.
⸱ “Ya know pet, I wouldn’t of thought you and I would get along so well.” He mumbled one night, your head resting against his chest.
“Sometimes we don’t,” you replied teasingly.
“Well love, you know what they say.”
“What do they say, Spike?”
“Opposites attract.”
⸱ You always wake up before him, but on the odd day that he wakes first, he’ll bring you in a cup of tea.
⸱ Also I don’t want anyone saying this is out of character because we haven’t seen Spike in a positive relationship. So I do think he would be thoughtful to his significant other (also he’s british, they love tea)
⸱ His favourite thing to do together is when he has his head in your lap, and you’re reading out loud to him
⸱ He tells you tales of the lives he’s lived
⸱ Doesn’t like other people making inquiries or jokes about your relationship
⸱ There’s still tension when he’s around the group, but he is changing with you. Becoming softer, kinder
⸱ You’re becoming more ... sassy? If that’s the right word to use...more in tune with quick-witted comments
⸱ He knows a lot about you, not just because he listens to you talk but he has been watching you for a while. Noticing your quirks in conversations and likes/dislikes
⸱ He knows your favourite movies and books
⸱ Spike loves taking you on adventures, especially when there’s chaos... have probably robbed a place together I won’t lie (it was pub with a sexist bartender, what else were you supposed to do?)
#spike btvs#dating spike would include#spike btvs headcanons#spike x reader#spike btvs x reader#buffy the vampire slayer#buffy the vampire slayer headcanons#spike btvs imagine#buffy the vampire slayer imagine#would include#buffy the vampire slayer would include#answered asks#answered anons#answered requests#requests are open
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does anyone else think about Spike and Giles looking at each other and seeing a personification of the most despised and vulnerable aspects of their own past or is it just me
#btvs#i'm so serious bc they're perfect foils especially when their relationships with buffy are to be considered#spike vs the ripper. rupert giles vs william pratt#they're the same. just the same. they just had an opposite and equal evolution and they can't imagine anyone doing it the other way#spike btvs#rupert giles#buffy summers#one knows exactly where unrestrained recklessness and hedonism lead and wants to steer her away from that#the other knows exactly what a prison societal expectations and repression can be and wants nothing more than for her to break free of them#i'm about to start gnawing bricks#buffy the vampire slayer
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pretty skirt spike
#can u imagine buffy fucking him in a skirt AHHHHH#anyway#also I know the cross necklace makes no sense#James was just wearing it in the reference photo#my art#spike btvs#buffy the vampire slayer#james marsters#spike
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Smoking and Vampires Kill (Reader x Spike)
'A sigh escaped your mouth as you remember the feeling of being kissed by Spike and exhaling smoke. You knew if you didn't quit smoking and break up with Spike they would have both killed you in the end.'
Summary: Your vampire ex-boyfriend visits your house when he hears you've quit smoking to try and tempt you into giving in to both.
Word Count: 2048
Ao3 link: Ao3
At midnight on New Year's Eve you walked straight into the bathroom and flushed your last pack of cigarettes. While your heart leapt up into your throat for an instant as the panic started you breathed out a sigh of relief. Trembling, you washed your hands and went to go re-join the party and find your new boyfriend in the crowd.
It's Winter break and you've been back home from studying at UC Sunnydale for two weeks now. Coincidently, that's also the number of days gone without smoking. Counting them off like prison scratches on the wall. You've always wanted to quit smoking and it didn't help when you met Spike who would chain-smoke indefinitely without the death anxiety, for obvious reasons. You first met Spike outside the Bronze one evening when he asked you for a light. Not thinking anything of it, you said he could keep it remembering all the Clippers in your draw at home. It was a novelty Halloween design with a vampire motif and the words 'blood sucker' wrapped around it. You never liked it, vampires were never your favourite monster. He looked at you credulously, with his eyes opened and slightly frowning at the suggestion. His facial expression soon relaxed and he thanked you and said he'd maybe see you inside. You thought he was strange as he blew smoke rings and poked is finger through them while looking up wistfully at the night sky.
You would only ever see him loitering outside the Bronze back alley. Since you spent half the night going inside and outside to smoke you'd end up catching him before he disappeared into the night. Soon enough, he became the sole reason you went to the Bronze. How pathetic, you thought, wanting to shiver in the cold while waiting for a stranger to appear, only to exchange a few words, maybe share a cigarette and then say goodbye.
One night you were warming yourself up with your lighter after crushing out your second cigarette waiting for Spike. You didn't think he was going to show until you turned around to go inside and there he was, brooding over the top of you and grinning manically.
"Hey Y/N! I was just looking for you. What are you doing outside? You must be freezing. Here let's go back inside."
He shuffled you indoors and bought you a hot mulled wine to warm you up. All the time shaking his head and complaining you were going to catch a cold. You moved naturally with him and followed his lead. This was the first time you had ever even seen him inside the Bronze, let alone be in his company with others around. You both sat down at a table in the back where it was away from the main stage.
"I haven't seen you in a while" you said, instantly regretting admitting you noticed.
"Yeah, I've been busy," Spike said raising his eyebrows, obviously surprised. "But I had my lucky lighter with me to remind me of you," showing you the vampire lighter out of his pocket and playing with it on the table. This made you smile that he remembered. You talked all night together until closing and he walked you home, after insisting, saying there's bad people lurking around this time of night.
It would only be a few weeks into the relationship that he would reveal his true identity as a vampire. You immediately ended the relationship in your head when his face turned into that of a beast. You weren't scared at the change in his appearance and demeanour. You only wanted to leave the Bronze and never see him again. This was three months ago and you hadn't seen him since. Not even when you braved to go our to the Bronze a few weeks after the break-up. You slowly forgot, or pretended you had forgotten, about the mystery vampire when you went to UC Sunnydale. What with all the studying, coffee and cigarettes consuming your brain you could hardly think straight let alone remember basic English. But, now you were back home and the memories consumed you. Perhaps, you thought, you had unconsciously quit smoking to forget Spike.
It was midnight, day 15, and you were kept awake by the intense cravings and nausea. You felt dizzy and the whole world was spinning when you rested your head. So, you switched on your bedside light and tried some breathing exercises. In and out. It will all go away soon, you thought. You stared out your bedroom window and remembered all the memories you had with Spike. You both had stood huddled under his leather jacket while it rained with his arm wrapped around your shoulder as you shared a cigarette. With your faces almost touching, all it took was a slight turn and that was the first time you both kissed. The cigarette forgotten about, laid burning half finished on the ground outside the Bronze. A sigh escaped your mouth as you remember the feeling of being kissed by Spike and exhaling smoke. You knew if you didn't quit smoking and break up with Spike they would have both killed you in the end. There's nothing in this world that compares to having something you love which kills you in the process. You feel both weak and strong being defeated because it means you have something to overcome.
These were the thoughts racing through your head as the clock moved between the early hours of the morning. You heard your parents snoring down the hallway and closed your eyes trying to isolate your dad's breathing and snoring. This grounded you in the moment until you heard a sudden sound outside of a lighter spark and an inhale that was followed by a familiar scratchy cough and a curse word. Paralyzed, you sat frozen on your bed while your eyes bursted open like a cat's, hair sticking up on end. You drifted to your windowsill, hiding behind the curtain and peeping outside you saw Spike standing below your window. He was leaning up against a tree in your front yard and looking straight into your bedroom. Flustered you backed away from the window. It's too dark to tell but you don't think he looked angry or upset. Honestly, it looked like he was just minding his own business, loitering in the middle of the night. Except, he was staring into your window so he obviously hasn't forgotten about you. You remember he is unable to enter the house since you never formally invited him inside. But, that didn't make him go away as there he stood waiting outside your house.
Knowing that you would be unable to sleep unless you confronted him about his stalker behaviour you returned to the window. You opened both curtains and sat down on your window sill bench wrapping the blanket around you. Breathing a deep breath, you opened your window and finally looked down at Spike.
"I had nearly given up," he said waving his lit cigarette. "I thought I was going to have to smoke a whole packet before you'd open up."
"What are you doing here Spike?" you ask, grimacing as you see his bleached blonde hair shine in the moonlight. God, how did that ever attract you.
"A little birdy told me that you've quit smoking and I've just come to give my congrats. Nothing wrong with that, is there?" He asks, grinning innocently and putting his hands up in the air. He crushes the cigarette on the ground and proceeds to light another one. "You see, I've tried quitting every turn of the century but nothing's seemed to work and I was thinking, since you're doing so well and all, you'd let me in on the secret".
This is unbelievable, you thought. He's really going to stand there all night, smoking a packet of cigarettes, trying to get inside your head. The wind rustled the leaves above Spike. Maybe if it picks up it would blow out his cigarette or at least drown out his voice. You looked into Spike's eyes as he raised his eyebrows waiting for your response.
"If you really want to know Spike, sometimes to kill one addiction you have to kill another. Like, if you always smoke when you have a drink you might have to quit both. At least for me, breaking up with you has solved all kinds of problems in my life."
"Ouch that hurts, love. But I bet that's what you wanted. Though I know you don't mean a word. I'll throw you up a smoke, if you want. Must be craving one like mad stuck in your room watching me enjoy one." He said, blowing out a cloud of smoke. You hated to admit it but he was right. You would have liked a cigarette but you couldn't bow down and accept one from Spike of all people.
"Sure and while I'm at it I think I want to get back together, don't you?"
"Cool it with the sarcasm pet, I'm just teasing you. Honestly, I want to commend you for giving it up. There's no point ruining your body when it's your only one. But I've been missing you lately. You never come to the Bronze anymore."
Why doesn't he just start crying, you thought. If you would have known he'd be this clingy you would never have spoken to him. Maybe all those times you waited in the back alley for him, he was also waiting for the right time to walk up to you. You had never thought about that before. How long could he have been staring at me, watching me, waiting to come up to me and have a smoke. It creeped you out to think of yourself as prey and Spike the predator. But that's what he was, at the end of the day. He had never raised his hand or drawn your blood, but that doesn't mean he wasn't trying to kill you. He was toying with you, making you believe you were in love with him. You thought you could never love another person except for Spike. But, you had proved that wrong having been in a more than happy relationship for months now.
You no longer needed those things that were silently killing you. Neither Spike or cigarettes were welcome into your life anymore. You stared down at Spike, smoking his third cigarette now catching a glimpse of your old vampire lighter. If only you could have known how ironic it was when you handed it over to him, he must have loved it. Reflecting back on when you first started smoking in your teenage years, you didn't know smoking was going to corrupt your body and become an irrepressible addiction. You were naïve and thought it would lessen the monotony of everyday life and make you more mature. The same was true about going out with Spike, an older guy who happened to be much older than he looks. You know you shouldn't blame yourself for what you know now but it's hard when you're consumed with deep seated regret. Especially because your body desires and craves both Spike and smoking.
"Goodbye, Spike." you whisper, just loud enough to see his face start and mouth open.
You smile sincerely looking down at Spike remembering the times you had together. The nights he'd stay out with you after closing hours and talk with you all night. But, Spike is a double-edged sword and someone who, in the end, would kill you if he had the chance. You close the curtains not turning back and curl up into bed imagining his arm around you as you smoked together in the rain. It felt so real, like he was there in bed beside you, Though you knew it was impossible you curled up next to him in his smoked-stained leather jacket and felt his arms wrap around you.
"I guess that's another addiction I haven't gotten over." you say as you breath a sigh of release. Turning out your lamp, you toss and turn trying to sleep while memories of Spike lighting a cigarette and handing it over to you with a grin churns in your brain.
#spike#spike headcanons#spike buffy the vampire slayer#spike x reader#buffy the vampire slayer#buffy the vampire slayer headcanons#buffy the vampire slayer imagine#btvs#spike btvs x reader#vampire#vampire x reader#reader insert#fanfiction#headcanon#spike btvs
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Waves (Spike x YN)
Request: Nope. Just another concept that turned way too long. Continuation of other fics.
TW: Mentions of blood and phsyical harm.
Word Count: 2.2k
Previous | Next
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Another night of hunting. Another night covered in blood. You walked half contorted down the street, in pain after your battle. Your body was regenerating but it was still painful. How many more nights if this hell before you found peace. You would cry, like you did in the past, but there's no point. It brings no relief. So, you just hobbled home in the dead of night hoping no civilian would catch you. Cause what a horrifying sight you are.
Smoke litters the air as Spike exhales. Another night of helping the slayer. Another night of getting his ass handed to him for getting cocky around her. He wishes he wasn't infatuated with her, but life just happens. A quick thought interrupted his line of thought. The cursed slayer. He hasn't seen her in 3 days. He misses her. Now that she doesn't work at The Magic Shop it’s harder to see her. Maybe every other day he'll see her in the cemetery with Buffy or alone but never on a consistent schedule. He knows where she lives... he could visit her. He would blush if he had any blood to produce a blush. How silly is he being? Him, chasing after the cursed slayer. Ridiculous.
He trails off from the cemetery, still debating on whether to visit y/n or not. What reasons would he have for stopping by? The waltz! He offered her a dance! He stops in his tracks and shakes his head. He was being silly. No one that experienced and ancient would care to spend time with him. Even if they were friends. She was just being polite. He tried to reason with himself. He has never felt so much doubt over someone. With Buffy it was straight forward, stalk and wear her down. With y/n it’s so complicated. Like playing a game without rules.
His attention is caught by a trail of blood on the ground. He's on high alert. He follows the zig zag of blood down the street. This is the street to y/n's house. He walks faster, afraid for her safety. As he turns the corner he sees her, a macabre sight of body parts twisted and torn. He holds his breath as if he had any. He rushes to her side.
You become aware of a presence behind you. You're tired and badly hurt, but if a fight has to happen then you are ready.
"Y/n!" Spike yells after you.
The wave of relief that washes over you is insurmountable.
You barely turn as he runs up to you, worry etched on his face.
"Despite my current presentation, I'm fine." You interject before he can get a word out.
"You look like death."
"I'll survive." You try to hobble past him.
Without any warning he scoops you up into his arms, your face against his chest. You feel a blush coming on. He starts at a steady and careful pace back to your house.
"I can walk." You argue.
"Barely" he says.
You sigh. You would never admit it but you like how it feels to be taken care of. You breath in the scent if dirt and leather that clings to Spike. You stay quiet the rest of the way, contemplating how much different your life would be if you had Spike around. You wave the idea away. He belongs to Buffy and you belong to the curse, simple as that.
You reach your house, still in his arms. He gently puts you down on your feet. You're surprised by his gentle nature.
"Thank you." You smile, trying to steady yourself.
"What are friends for." He pauses for a second. "You owe me a dance." He felt like a putz bringing it up in her current state. Why did his brain short circuit around her?
You chuckle. "I haven't forgotten. Maybe next time." You turn away and walk inside your house.
As soon as the door closes, he hangs his head. What an idiot he's being! Asking for a dance when she can barely move. Might as well wear a sign that says touch starved. He walks back home, hands in his pocket, angry and embarrassed. He can still smell her blood on him, making him hungry.
The next day he was itching to see y/n again. He had to wait at the cemetery, maybe? Walk up her street? He didn't know where to locate her, simply that he had to make sure she was okay. After a while he gives up and starts to walking by y/n's street to find her sitting by the curve. She looks in pain.
He rushed to your side. You have a broken leg. You thought it would be a good idea to limp back home after your early but painful altercation with a demon. Spike crouches down to your level.
"What do we got here?" He says in a playful tone trying to hide his concern.
"You should see the other guy."
Spike frowned at seeing the damage. "Can you get up?"
"Yes. And no, you're not carrying me today. I've been taking care if myself for years and I can do it now."
"A bloody terrible job you've been doin’."
"Rude" you get up and start limping again.
Before you can get your footing Spike sweeps you up again. You protest but he hushes you. Again, incredulous. This man is sweet but is getting on your last nerve.
"Sorry love, can't let you waste away." He looks down at you. He notices how fragile you are in his arms, how good you feel so close to him, and how much power he has over you in this one moment.
He quickly looks up, trying to avoid your prodding gaze. "Tell me what happened."
"Simple. Demon had a club. I got cocky. He swung, broke my leg and I swung my sword and cut his head."
"Big fan of decapitation, I see."
"All in a night's work." You grinned.
"You say you’ve always taken care o’ yourself. Does every night end like this?"
"Most nights, yes. It’s just me and the big bad demons. I do get careless cause of the whole immortality bit."
He nods. You both reach your house. He gently puts you down on your feet. You sway and he catches you. You look up, your faces mere inches from each other. You take the time to admire his chiseled face, his sharp cheek bones and his blue eyes. All the while he enjoys getting reacquainted with the valley of your lips, and the deep hue of color in your eyes. He wonders how soft your lips really are. He pulls back at the thought and you almost stumble onto him. He steadies you, from a distance. You laugh at his reaction.
"Once again, thank you. You always seem to show up when I need you, and I appreciate that."
He nods, contemplating his next move. You turn to open, enter and close your door. However, Spike puts his foot on the door.
"I don't want you goin' our without me."
"Excuse me?" You're incredulous.
"Every time you're alone you get hurt. We can't have that now, can we? So, you're with me from now on."
You stand there speechless. Before you can retort he ends the conversation with "I'll pick you up at 9." And walks away.
The following night you wait for him, amused at how the night will turn out. A knock is heard in the distance. You open it to see Spike, your chaperone if the night.
"Good evening. Where to m'lady?"
You laugh at his antics. As you walk towards the woods you explain to Spike your goal for the night. To take down set of twin demons that have been trying to lure children to eat them. Spike is attentive and energized. He wanted to impress you. He wanted to prove to you that he was no sniveling child vampire. Just because there is an 800 year difference between the two of you, it doesn't mean that he's useless.
You both make it to an empty playground.
"Here?" Spike asks.
"Here." You confirm.
So, you sit and wait. Spike steals glances at you, hoping to catch your eye. He has never felt so small and shy. You turn to look at him and smile "nervous, baby boy?"
He is taken aback, speechless. Baby boy! You had some gal! He didn't know if to fight back or let you dominate him. Neither action came to fruition due to two big demons coming into view.
You stand ready, "show time, baby boy." You run up at the twin demons.
Spike needs a minute to rewire his thoughts and calm his feelings. Once reconnected he runs after you to back you up.
You both go on a head on collision with the demons. Spike is surprised at your direct approach. He can tell you're too focused on the win and not on your safety. He swoops in to play defense and keep you safe. While you work on slashing and punching, Spike works on blocking and moving you out of the way. You both work as a unit, fearless of what’s to come. Your bodies speak a language that only you two understand.
The demons are tired and bruised but you guys aren't done. Spike calls your name as he pushes one of the demons your way. Your sword is ready, and you stab into him with ease. Spike misses his cue as you call to him and the other demon attacks him, hurting him. You call to him one last time throwing your sword his way. He catches it with ease and stabs the demon multiple times. You're both triumphant.
You walk up to Spike to assess the damage.
"It's bleeding but not terrible" Spike states.
You nod and sling his arm around your shoulders. You both limp towards your house.
"Thank you. You were amazing." You compliment him.
He smirks, "You weren't half bad."
"If you hadn't been there those demons would've taken me out."
"I know" Spike smiles his shit eating grin.
You stop at your porch and Spike moves away from you. "Good night. I'll see you tomorrow night" and he starts walking away.
"Wait, I'm gonna patch you up." You stop him from moving farther away from you.
He freezes. "Love, I'd have to come in..." He trails off at the prospect of being in your home.
You chuckle. "I know." You stand inside your house. "Go ahead, ask."
He couldn't believe it. Dead heart be still. "Can I come in?"
"Nah."
Spike's jaw drops. Ridiculous. He feels like storming off until he hears you laugh which makes his blood boil.
"Wait! Don't leave. I’m sorry. Ask again. Please." You say trying to get your laughter under control.
He asks again, and you say yes. And he feels all the air, if any, leave his body. He was elated and giddy.
He saunters into your home as if it was his own. He takes in the space, the furniture.
"Take a seat, I'll be right back" you point to your couch.
You bring him a cup of water and a med kit. He is humbled at your gesture. So simple yet so loving.
"Take off your shirt." You say as you look through your med kit.
"Buy me a drink first, love" he chuckles and complies.
You make an annoyed face, but it’s quickly washed off at the sight at his body. He was breathtaking. Dips and valleys hidden under hard lines of muscles. You remind yourself to breathe. You refocus and go to tending his wound. You are careful, loving as your work on him.
He admires your gentle hands, So carefully caring for him. Buffy would never. Yet y/n will always. Always. He snaps back from his reverie as you apply the anti-septic to his wound. It stings.
"All new!" You state looking at your handy work.
"Thank you..." he mumbles as he pulls his shirt down.
"My pleasure. I mean, it was a pleasure to help. I mean not that I take pleasure in seeing your hurt. I mean - " Spike places his pointer and middle finger to your lips. A firm but gentle gesture.
"I know what you mean." He smiles, a genuine one. "I have to go now. The sun is rising."
As he turns away you pull at his duster. "Stay."
He turns slowly, in surprise of what he just heard.
"Stay" you repeat. "You can stay on the couch. It’s a pull out."
He makes eye contact. He steps closer, purposefully entering your personal space. One hand distracts itself by playing with your hair. The other ghosted over yours at your side.
He knew, in that moment, that you would look out for him no matter what. The woman he got to know before he knew her as the cursed slayer was still there. The attentive eyes, the smart mouth and the loving heart. All that he needed. He refuses to let himself drown in this feeling. Not yet. He needed time before he let himself swim in your waves of love. But there was no harm in taking a dip, just for tonight.
#spike x yn#spike x y/n#spike x reader#spike x you#william the bloody#spike the bloody#btvs#spike btvs#btvs imagine#btvs x reader#buffy the vampire slayer#william pratt
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Inktober'23 - Day 27 - Spike
#spike#buffy the vampire slayer#james marsters#fanart#btvs fanart#digital painting#digital art#inktober#inktober 2023#linda marie anson#artists on tumblr#imagine being in a fandom for 20 years and doing a fanart only now#buffy fanart
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tearing out my hair and throwing up and screaming at the sky every single day because on the vampiric council, which consisted of so many famous actors from vampire media (including the shitty old buffy movie!!!) we didn’t have the fanged four from btvs. like. middle aged modern day them in those white robes with big sharp fangs. think about it.
*viago voice* and this is james, julie, juliet, and… dave. hi dave.
or even if it was just spike and angel, they could have been arguing every time anyone said anything and all the other vampires were like SHUT THE FUCK UP GUYS WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS LIKE THIS
#when I think of that scene I imagine them in it#wwdits#what we do in the shadows#btvs#buffy the vampire slayer#buffyverse#fanged four#btvs angel#btvs spike#btvs darla#btvs drusilla
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#Eric Northaman imagine#eric northman#queen akasha imagine#Spike imagine#Benny Lafitte imagine#Katherine Pierce imagine#damon salvatore imagine#stefan salvatore imagine#Selene imagine#Caius volturi imagine#The Lost Boys imagine#imagines#True Blood#buffy the vampire slayer#queen of the damned#supernatural#vampire diaries#Underworld#Twilight#The Lost Boys#queen akasha#spike btvs#benny lafitte#katherine pierce#damon salvatore#stefan salvatore#selene#caius volturi#lost boys david#dwayne lost boys
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Sugar and Spike
pairing(s): Spike x fem!reader
summary: after a night of patrol goes wrong, Spike starts noticing some changes in himself, mainly that Buffy's sweetest friend won't leave his mind and that she would never look at him the same if she knew what he wanted to do to her.
warnings: smut!!! a smidge of yandereness, kinda a sex or die fic, possessive spike, handjob, unprotected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it), oral (fem receiving), praise kink, biting/marking (mentions of blood), a little bit of spanking, overstimulation, riding, fingering, veryyy little plot, and I think thats about it.
In hindsight, they should've kept a better eye on him. It was an odd night of patrolling, the usual gaggle of vampires being a demon or two this time around. Big tall thing that appeared out of nowhere and left as soon as it came. Spike, always with little regard for the consequences of his actions, ran right in. Ran so hard he went right through the demon as it went into smoke. He breathed it in before going into a coughing fit, as if he could feel it in his nose and lungs, spreading in his chest like a vine that pulled everything impossible tight before releasing him like he was never in its grasp . Red flag one.
It fell on him like rain, some clumping into what looked like pink sparkles in his hair, on his jacket, his worn boots. He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling away expecting to see it gunked together, but there was nothing there. It felt like his hair had been hit by my mist, slightly damp and cool. It seeped into his exposed skin, adhering itself into a pink sheen which also disappeared after only a few minutes. He remembered trying to brush it off, expecting it to feel wet but it was just slick. It was admittedly infuriating, especially since the feeling wouldn't go away. Red flag two.
“Buffy!” He shouted, rubbing his hands on his jeans as if it was going to wipe away the phantom feeling, but his complaints were met with apathy.
“There’s nothing there, Spike.” A groan bubbled in his chest.
“Astute observation, Slayer, but it feels like something’s there.” You were there beside him, something that would’ve gone unnoticed had he not been hit with your scent as your fingers brushed against his hand. He pulled away quickly out of instinct, not as subtle as he would’ve liked to because you noticed and scampered off in between Buffy and Giles. The distance between you and him got larger and the two of you talked about a mall trip you had planned and Willow was the only one to stick with him. She humored him, allowing him to shower at her place and taking a sample of skin only to find nothing. No residue, nothing abnormal, nothing had changed at all. Red flag three.
But he was sure it was fine. Nothing had really changed. You had been a bit cautious though.
You were prone to worrying, and he couldn't blame you. There was a lot to worry about when your best friends hunted demons and one of them was a literal creature of the night. You worried about Buffy so much he genuinely feared you would collapse from all the stress you put yourself under. Pursuing a nursing degree so they could avoid hospital visits unless absolutely necessary because none of you had the money. Having him train you in basic self-defense because you hated feeling like dead weight. You took up Latin and all of the other dead languages in those old dusty books just so you could be useful. You tied yourself in knots just to be sweet. God, you were so sweet. Even to your own detriment, like pure sugar that was going to rot his teeth eventually.
The more time you spent together, the more the rot seemed to take his brain than his teeth. His mouth never got anywhere near you; Buffy made sure of that. He wished he could say it was because she was babying you too much, that you were also tired of Buffy making Spike seem like the biggest mistake you could ever make. To be fair, he hardly knew you. He knew of you; he knew of the pink wardrobe and the fluffy socks and the pretty shoes. He knew of you as Buffy's cute neighbor who stopped by so often that you might as well live with them. You weren't being a baby, you were being cautious, even more now. He almost wished you didn't believe him as much as you did, maybe you'd keep visiting him. He hadn't seen you in days and it was really starting to take a toll on him. His leg bounced and he got in the bad habit of biting his nails, which was starting to get annoying with how often he had to repaint them.
If you were here, you would repaint them. You would sit your pretty self on his busted couch, and you'd have a little bag with you with all your pins and charms that jingled like the earrings that dangle from your ears. In your bag would be at least three shades of pink, a range of blacks and greys, and a wild card or two, maybe a blue or a green. You'd let him pick his color, despite knowing he always went for black. You asked anyway, just in case he decided to go with pink just to humor you. Had you walked through right now, he would've obliged. He would've done anything you asked him too. It wasn't even that he was lonely, but it was getting to suffocate in here. It was getting hot, like a fire was spreading. Each breath felt smoke filled, his skin was on fire, his skin was getting damp, like the dust had fallen again. His hand was shaky as he put a cigarette between his lips and lit it, surely the smell would break him out of what had to be a daze.
If you were here, you'd make a joke about him needing to air the place out. He'd probably open the door and call that enough air, but he liked his privacy, and he didn't like the idea of anyone just being able to waltz right in. You would want to make a joke about no one wanting to visit him, but you’d bite your tongue at the fear of being too harsh. You always got that look in your eye when you thought something that could be misconstrued as mean. You took your lip into your teeth and your pretty eyelashes flitted and you looked away. He thought about what it would be like to bite your lips, wanting to see what they looked like, all red and even prettier than they were before. Just a taste, that's all he wanted, a taste.
He got up to open up the door only for that phantom feeling to return. All over his body, it felt like he had stepped out into the sun, like every molecule that made up his body was vibrating and mere seconds from combusting. His breathing got ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly and his brain going into overdrive. He squeezed his eyes shut as if it would make it go away, but even from behind his eyelids, you were there. The idea of you, your smile, your laughter, fuck the very way you said his name. It sounded so nice coming from you.
The way you said it when he got injured in a fight when you would patch up his wounds and have a bag of blood for him to replace what he lost. “Spike.” you would say. Like he should’ve known better than to just throw himself into danger. Not even bothering to consider the possibility that he did it to look heroic, or maybe in your care with your hands over his chest. There’s no reason for him to be this beaten and bruised from some baby vamp; William the Bloody. Spike? He had pride, but not as much as Angelus. It was easily quenched by the fact that he was in no way losing with your delicate hands tracing over faded scars on his chest and feeding him blood while they were just dust.
“Spike.” Buffy would say, her tone laced with less concern and more disapproval. She knew something was up. After all they had gone through together, vampires should’ve been nothing for him. He had to space out his “fuck ups” just to get her off his back, just to get her voice out of his head. She didn’t say his name like you did.
There wasn’t much better than how you said his name when it was just the two of you. Being together in his crypt, sometimes in your own bedroom which you had invited him into much to Buffy’s chagrin. “It’s Spike,” you had said, “how many times have we saved the world with him? I think he’s earned it.” It sent shivers down his spine. He would’ve saved the world so much sooner if it meant being able to be in your space. If it meant getting to hear you say his name through fits of laughter, trying to regain your breath while still finding enough to utter his name. “Spike.” you said, your hand over his while you giggled. He felt that heat now, felt the heat of all your touches culminating right now. All over his skin, tensing his muscles, holding his chest as he fought for breath himself.
While he had the chance, he should’ve raided your underwear drawer. Now he was left to fist his dick with just the memory of you. You wouldn’t notice a pair or two gone, surely you wouldn’t. It was the type of small thing you would overlook because really what is a pair or two. You wouldn’t want him to be in pain, hearing his situation now, you’d feel like it was all your fault. The least you could spare was a pair of your prettiest panties for him to wrap around his cock while he fisted himself to the thought of you and how you would say his name now.
The closest he’d gotten would be after a big battle. You had taken a beating, by the time you had gotten to a safe space you had lost a dangerous amount of blood, but the sounds that came out of your mouth were so delicious. And you trusted him to carry you to safety, your bloody hand wrapping itself around his bicep to maintain some tether to consciousness. “Spike.” your voice dripping with pain, but even that wasn’t enough to mask how pretty you sounded. He felt bad then for how hard it got him, but there is such a thin line between pain and pleasure. The only difference now would be circumstance, and he would never hurt you. This would be good for you, the both of you, you just had to let him. You just had to say his name.
“Spike?” In that moment, he knew there had to be some high power looking out for him when he heard your voice. Dream-like, and soft, like the wind could have blown it out and away from your lips. “Spike?!” you said again. He couldn’t tell if it was his shred of restraint or his body’s unwillingness to listen to his brain that kept him glued to his couch.
“Now really isn’t a good time, love.” He tried to keep his voice level, he really did, but it was too much. And you weren’t stupid, he heard the heels of your shoes against the hard floor and smelt you before he even saw you. And fuck you smelt heavenly.
“Are you okay? What happened-” You looked like you had a halo above your head, or maybe he was much further gone than he had thought. You cut yourself off in shock. When you had walked in, you hadn’t expected to catch Spike with his hands down his pants.
“You know what, I’m just gonna go a-and come back later.” You tried to smile in an attempt to make the situation less awkward than it needed to be, but he grabbed you by your wrist.
“Wait-I just need-fuck. I just need you to stay for a bit. I don’t feel good.” Your eyes met and you saw the sheen of what you assumed to be sweat covering his chest and face. His pupils blown out, his hair out of place, his labored breathing, like he couldn’t catch his breath. Oddly enough, the sheen had a pink tinge, and despite the fact that his fangs were protruding, his vampire face hadn’t appeared. You reached out to touch his forehead to surprisingly find a temperature. He groaned at the contact, both wanting to melt into your skin and like it physically pained him.
“What happened?” He declined the answer, instead pushing his head more into the palm of your hand, tipping his head to sniff the inside of your wrist. “What are you doing?” You tried to pull away and put some distance in between the two of you, but he pulled you back, even closer than before.
“You smell so good.” He nosed his way past your wrist and up your arm till he made it to your collarbone, trying to find where he could hear your blood pump the loudest. “Stop it!” you pushed against him as soon as you felt the tip of his fangs attempting to break skin. To both of your surprise, he let you. It looked like it pained him to do so, his eyes screwed shut and his hand gripping the arm of his couch until the wood snapped.
“If this is about the demon thing, I’m gonna go get Willow, okay? You just need to stay right here.” The authority you had laced in your voice was cute.
“Just stay here with me, yeah? There’s no need to get Willow. We don’t need Willow.” His voice had dropped an octave, his pupils blown and his brain damn near empty. Anything went in one ear then out the other as he held your hands in his, staring through you as if daring you to defy him.
“Spike, you aren’t well.” You had tried to reason, but all he heard was that you weren’t saying no because you didn’t want this. You were concerned for his well being, even when he had you pinned down and his teeth at your neck, each breath moving you closer to him drawing blood, you were saying no because you were concerned he didn’t want this. You somehow thought he didn’t want you.
“I’ve never felt better, baby.”, he said-practically fucking growled. Hell if he wanted you, he needed you. He pressed himself into you, his hands grabbing at anything he could to ground himself, his left at the base of your scalp and his right bunching the fabric of your skirt in his hands. He breathed into your neck, nipping and nicking at bare skin then soothing it with his tongue and kisses. He worked himself up over you, taking and taking until he was drunk, his tongue lolled out as he put his head on your chest.“Can I fuck you.”
You had been caught in a daze yourself, his words had barely registered. You had more sense than he did at this point, finding enough resolve to shake your head. “Please.” he begged, groaning it out through clenched teeth. “I need you to make it feel better, please God just make it feel better.” He had pushed his hips into your hand, his weeping cock leaking onto you, pleading with you to touch it. “I’ll make it good for you, I swear, just be my sweet girl, yeah? Just make it better.”
You experimentally rubbed the tip, and he whimpered. His hand grabbing your wrist so fast a look of shock flashed across his face. You took that as a sign to pull away but he put your hand back around him, pushing your hand up and down his base. “Too much too quick, love.”
Any hesitancy you had was swallowed as he smashed his lips into yours. It was urgent and quick, almost bruising how hard he kissed and held you as if you were going to disappear at any point. He tugged at a handful of hair, catching you in a moan that he used to force tongue into your mouth, sucking it as you pumped his dick at a painfully slow pace.
His kisses made you breathless, and it was then you realized that he likely forgot in his haze that you actually needed air. He moaned into your lips, the sound spreading throughout your body and shaking you to your core. It wasn’t lost on him how damp your underwear had gotten, had he had the strength to pull away to touch you he would, but the mere seconds his skin would be off yours was enough of a deterrent to keep him in place.
You tried to move away, but his hand kept you in place. “Don’t move.”, he rushed it out, a tone that otherwise would’ve been more commanding had he not been weak himself. “Keep going.” His hips bucked and stuttered, his movements becoming erratic the more faint your touches became. Like it was a warning; let me up for air and I’ll keep touching you. He whined at the thought of you pulling away. That wasn’t fair.
His lips parted from yours, settling for the corner of your mouth before moving to your jawline to your neck, then just under your ear. You gasped for breath, you numb with the ecstasy of air and the feeling of his rushed kisses. He was getting close. Your hand was covered in his sticky pre-cum, his cock even more so as your hand moved alone over him, his own hand now grabbing at your shirt at the feeling. You squeezed at the bass, a motion he clearly enjoyed with how his body tensed up. A series of obscenities flowed from his pretty lips as he came, spurts of his cum getting over your pretty pink skirt, an image Spike would get himself off to later.
You didn’t get long to sit in what just happened when he was on you again, laying you on your back and ripping your skirt clean off. You moaned something that sounded like “My skirt!”, but neither one of you were really worried about it.
His lithe fingers were quick, rubbing you through the fabric of your panties, while he kissed up to where you wanted him excruciatingly slow. His hands rubbed and teased at the soft skin of your thighs, marking bruises everywhere he went.
He moaned into you, sniffing you once again, before finding a place he wanted to dig his fangs into. Maybe it was how delicately he stuck in his teeth, maybe it was the lust blown fervor, but it didn’t hurt as much as you anticipated. In fact, you moaned at the intrusion, unable to know what to do with yourself as he sucked and lapped up the blood he had drawn. Your fingers wove into his hair, as if he could be pulled any closer to you than he already was. “You taste so good. So good.” And he let you know as such. The obscene noises that flew from the both of you, the slurping and whines, the pop of his lips as he traveled from one spot to another. But that’s not how he intended to eat you whole.
You were unbelievably wet, soaking through your panties and even Spikes fingers before he took pity on you and decided to pull them aside and plant his fingers into you. Now, you weren’t a virgin, but you had never had sex that felt as good as this. Never had someone in you that had hundreds of years of practice beforehand.
“You’re doing so good, Sweet Girl. So good, can’t get enough of you.” What was an attempt to calm your nerves, had you keening and over the moon, the praise bringing tears to your eyes as you ground yourself in his hand. That didn’t move him along any quicker, his tongue still collecting anything you would give him like he hadn’t been fed in years.
“Spike!” You called out, which finally seemed to get his attention. He saw the glass-like look your eyes had taken and the pout on your face. You looked like you were about to cry. Poor thing, so desperate. He said he’d take care of you, make you feel good. No point in denying the inevitable.
You whined when he pulled out of you just to choke when he began to devour you. His nose at your clit and his tongue plunging into. “Thank you.” he muttered into you, like this was some divine gift to him. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” The combination of his praise and how good he was giving it to you made that coil in your belly tighten and tighten until it threatened to snap. And he just kept going. Completely in his own world, the only thoughts in his mind being about you, how you smelled, how you tasted, god you were so good to him. Letting him eat you out like this, helping him like this. He shouldn’t have expected any less from his girl. His sweet girl. No one else's, you couldn’t be anyone else's after this. His grip tightened around your thighs at the very thought. “Mine.” he said, the vibrations hitting your core deliciously. “Mine.”
“Yours Spike, all yours.” He hummed in approval, inserting two fingers back into you while he kept up his electric pace. He held your hand as it began to be too much, your back arching off the couch and your thighs closing around his head as he just kept going. You called his name as you came, high and higher until it became too heavy on your mouth and you couldn’t say anything at all. The grip you had on his hand had loosened, but he hadn’t let up. He still rambled into you, “Again. Again. Again. Please.”
You didn’t know if your hips were bucking into him or try to wiggle away from him. Either way, both attempts were unsuccessful. With how hard he pulled on your panties they had snapped and had been thrown to the side for the simple crime of being in his way. His forearm lay on your hip keeping you in place. Your hand still laid in his, him squeezing it as if it was any comfort from the inescapable feeling of his tongue licking your thoroughly soaked pussy.
Your toes curled in your frilly socks as you came again on his tongue, and you foolishly expected that to be enough. You would’ve asked him to stop if you could pant out anything more than whines. You would’ve pushed him away if you could manage anything more than weak taps on his forearm. “No more.” you whispered out. “Can’t.” His fingers rubbed your hand as some form of encouragement.
“Yes you can, love.” You shook your head weakly, scooting your hips back only for him to swiftly smack your pussy. You preened on the contact, and he drank in the arousal that gushed out just from that. “My sweet girl isn’t gonna disappoint me, is she? She’s gonna make me all better, isn’t that right?” Your brain was so fogged out you couldn’t even produce a response. You just groaned and squirmed, unable to brace for impact when he smacked you again.
“Spike!” You cried out, but he didn’t care. Heknew you were feeling good from how much you gushed while he tongue fucked your cunt. It was just a bit too much for you right now. You would feel better, you just needed to let go some more. He tried to relax you, tried rubbing mindless shapes on your skin to calm you down as he worked you through your third orgasm, but you just heaved. Your tits bounced with how heavily you breathed, and yet after all of that, he still didn’t feel better. Why didn’t he feel better?
Despite the relief that came from him pausing his abuse, you still whined as he sat up from behind your legs. With your taste still on his tongue, he kissed you. You sighed into him, the feeling of his large hands moving from your hip to under your shirt to touch your tummy and rip your bra in half. You didn’t even notice him moving you into his lap and setting your thighs on either side of him so you straddled him. He thumbed your nipples, pinching and rubbing over them while he relished in the feeling of you cunt so close to his dick.
You didn’t seem to catch on either as he slid in between your folds, too lost of him finally kissing you again. You moaned into this kiss as his fingers dipped to toy with your clit before he whispered in your ear. “Just one more.”
In one fluid motion, he slipped his dick into his cunt, catching you as your limbs went weak. He was so big you felt your eyes water with the pressure of him being in you. You could tell he was struggling to stay still, but the haze had worn off enough for him to regain some sense. He still waited eagerly for you to adjust, brushing the fallen tears from your eyes and kissing your checks to make it all better.
“Too big. It’s too big.” You stuttered. It was all you could manage to mutter out. He cooed at you, his dick growing harder than he thought possible at the feeling of it all and the praise.
“I was made for you, Pretty Girl, you can take it.” You yelped as he jerked his hips into yours, but he just couldn’t help it. You were so pretty like this, all fucked out and dumb. Not a thought behind those eyes of yours and the only thoughts he was capable of was you. How warm you were, how wet you were, how tight you were. You were squeezing him and milking him dry and as much as he tried he just couldn’t stop him self from fucking into you.
“I’m sorry.” and he meant it. You weren’t ready and he couldn’t even tell if he was ready, his body had a mind of his own and he felt himself just slipping into the feeling of being enveloped by you. “Just too good. You’re too good. My good girl. You’re gonna take all I give you, aren’t you, love? You gonna be my sweet girl and take it?” His voice was breathy and low and impossibly hot.
All you could manage was a soft ‘mhm’ as you took him in. It wasn’t like you had any other choice as you bounced on his cock, gripping at his chest and taking in each moan you earned as you drew blood from your scratches.
You felt every inch of him, felt the tip of his dick hit your cervix and kept pounding at it like it was his job; like he would die if he didn’t. You can’t do anything but take it as you screw your eyes shut and just try to breathe as everything in your body fights to hold on to some feeling. It was impossible to think, not when Spike’s hands were all over you and his touch was so incredibly hot. Even stranger, a pink glow began to emanate from him, that or you were closer to passing out than you originally thought. .
He kept you close to his chest as you both chased your impending highs together, your lips meeting in the middle as you moaned and sighed into each other's mouths and he was a goner, rambling like a mad man in your ear, thanking you endlessly for something he couldn’t put his hands on. Maybe it was your release, that you felt coming like a truck. He squeezed at the fat of your hips, pulling you even closer until neither one of you could tell where the other started and ended and you came like that, so close that you were almost suffocating, but a different kind from before.
He came not long after you, his dick still inside spurting his cum inside you and keeping it in there with little intention of coming out any time soon. That pink glow had faded from before, fading away until there was nothing there and the slight pink tinge from before was gone too. His eyes drooped a bit, his blue irises that you hadn’t realized you had missed finally reappeared, his pupils returning to normal and his fangs retracting.
He hung his head in your neck and you felt his temperature drop a bit, no longer boiling hot. He refused to move his head from his spot though. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was ashamed of what just happened.
After the both of you had a moment to catch your breaths, he removed himself from inside you, stalking off to find something to wear now that your outfit was completely ruined. He even had the decency to turn around while you changed, granted he had a hard time looking at you anyway.
“You’re gonna wanna deep clean that couch.” You said to break the silence. You were surprised you got a chuckle out of him.
“Yeah. I don’t normally do this sort of thing on there.” Another moment of silence passed between the two of you.
“You know, we can go back to my place and I can fix your nails. I can tell you’ve been biting at them.” He didn’t need to be told twice either. The place still stunk of sex and his head was feeling clearer than it had in days, he couldn’t stand to be there right now.
“About all of this…you won’t tell Buffy, right?” You giggled.
“Not if you don’t.” And that was more than enough for him.
#btvs#btvs imagine#btvs x reader#buffy the vampire slayer#buffy the vampire slayer fanfiction#buffy the vampire slayer imagine#buffy the vampire slayer x reader#spike btvs x reader#spike btvs imagine#spike btvs fanfiction#spike x reader#spike btvs#spike smut#spike btvs smut#btvs smut#buffy the vampire slayer smut
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High Stakes
Pairing: Spike x witch!reader (gn)
Request: I was wondering about maybe one where spike and reader are in a relationship like a really healthy one and he is completely in love them but the scooby gang ask them to do some really big draining spell because they are more powerful witch then willow and like reader starts to panic once leaving the magic box with spike and he is super concerned and like they start to have a panic attack and he immediately starts calming them down and looking after them and it’s just really fluffy and angsty.
Requested by: @witchb1tches
Warning: Reader has a panic attack. Crying.
There was a storm brewing. The sky was dark but only you could feel it. You were at one with the elements. A powerful sorcerer who had unfathomable power. As you waled briskly through the streets, your hands laced with Spike’s, you tried to push down your anxieties and focus on the feeling of his hand in yours.
You and Spike had been together for years. He adored you with ever fibre of his being and you matched his love in every way. It was a love that others only dreamed of. You had met at a demon bar one evening and in attempting to impress you, Spike had picked a fight with half of the bar. When he got in trouble and they all tried to jump him at once, you stood up raised your hand, making the entire crowd slam into the back wall of the bar as if shoved by an invisible force.
Spike had just stared, mouth wide open as you winked and left him in the bar, saying your goodbyes. Although you didn’t agree with love at first sight, the ground started humming and the breeze that whistled through your ears on the way home telling you that you had met the one. You waited though, to see if he would make the first move. To test if it really was fate.
You had run into each other several times after that and after getting over the fact that you were friends with the Slayer, he built up the courage to ask you on an actual date. He had even brought flowers that looked suspiciously like they had been swiped from a nearby grave. He had been rather bashful and it had been incredibly endearing, you only understood later on why he was so nervous of rejection.
You had been laying in bed when you got the SOS message from Xander. Some big evil this or some creepy spell that. You knew you had to come as fast as you could and your vampire insisted he was only coming to try and score a nip of blood, but you knew him better than that.
“Don’t know why they think you’re at their every bleedin’ beck and call” Spike had been sulking the entire way there, his unlit cigarette bobbing from his mouth as he spoke. He mostly did it to see you smile, he was very fond of your smile. He did this, especially when he sensed that you were feeling tense about something.
“Spike, it’s the end of the world, we can’t just hold each other and wait for it to get us”
“If it was the end of the world, we’d be doin’ more than cuddlin’. That I can tell you, pet” he pointed at you, his cigarette between his fingers as a curl of smoke escaped his smirk. You rolled your eyes and pushed him playfully as you walked.
“I have power, it would be wrong not to do something to help”
“No, what’s wrong is callin’ up a vampire in the middle of the afternoon while he’s trying to sleep! Apocalypses are ten-to-the-bloody-dozen ‘round here, we could have finished our nap and still caught the next one, I wager”
“That may be true, but-” You started to defend your younger friends and Giles, but that was when you sensed it. The coming storm had distracted you but now you saw it. The Magic Box was ablaze, green fire licked the building and what looked like a tornado inside the store fanned the flames.
You ran straight into the fire, with Spike trying to pull you back. You shot him a meaningful look, your intentions sending your thoughts and reasons into his own head. He nodded, understanding, the fire was magically suspended, something (probably Willow and Tara) was working against the damage.
When you both arrived, Spike had a hand firmly on your waist, he knew that in this sort of fight, you were the one that was doing the protecting. He was man enough to admit that. But it didn’t stop him wanting to ensure that you were by his side. Safe from harm’s way.
The scene was pure chaos, and not in a nice, neat, easy-to-calm way. You had ceased many of those for your friends before. This one was different. An invisible tornado had whipped up around the store, the noise was so loud it was near impossible to hear yourself think. Anya was trying to hold down anything valuable from getting more broken while Giles and Willow were screaming incantations over the din.
“No bloody way” Spike muttered, taking you hand and trying to lead you out again. There was no sodding, buggering, bloody way that you two were getting involved in this one. The slayer and her little friends could fry for all he cared. Just so long as it didn’t involve you.
Buffy was trying to fight the air around her, with Xander on back up, as some force kept attacking the two that were trying to reduce the amount of fire that threatened to consume them.
That was when you saw it. In the centre of the room, the eye of the tornado.
“Th-that book…” You said softly. You knew that book, you could feel the ancient power rolling off it. Humans couldn’t touch that book unless they were powerful enough to withstand it’s hold on their souls.
And seemingly, Tara had touched it. She was suspended in the corner of the room, eyes black and her hair to match. She was a good witch, but not powerful enough to withstand something like that. You weren’t even sure that you were.
How had they found it? Why was it here?
No wonder the world was ending. One chapter, no one sentence even, from that book spoken aloud by someone that didn’t know what to do with it and the whole fabric of this dimension, and many others, would tear and scatter until it was no more.
That book was supposed to be suspended in a hell dimension and, you later found out, Willow had received it as a Birthday gift from an unnamed admirer.
“Y/n, we need to do this, now!” Buffy shouted over the noise. It was a lot worse than you had expected. Time was speeding up, lives were in danger and the whole thing seemed to be resting on you. You wavered, the others couldn’t see it over all the chaos. But he could. Your Spike. Your protector. He was the only thing that could ground you.
“Piss off, would you! You saw what happened to them last time” Spike stepped up to the Slayer menacingly, his leather duster whipping around him in the artificial wind. He cared about you, deeply, none of your friends could deny it. He was worried about you, doing so many spells for them he thought they took it for granted that you could just bounce back and be fine. He told them as much whilst simultaneously throwing a few punches at this invisible being that was trying to fight the room.
You were stood there, seemingly daydreaming as you stood still as the mayhem raged around you, just staring at the book.
“Y/n, the stakes are high, are you, ah, able to do this?” Giles asked, pausing from chanting as he realised that you were now using your own power to hold off the fire.
“We don’t use that word in our house, stakes that is. What with the whole burning at the stake bit” Spike cut in, throwing a punch and overbalancing when it didn’t connect with anything. He managed to style it out, rolling and landing back onto his feet.
“And the dusty vampire thing” You agreed distractedly, pressing your lips against his as he got up from the floor beside you.
“Yes, yes, well? Are you able to do it?” Giles was growing impatient with the man that was always so close by your side. Both Giles and you knew what you had to do. It was something that no other could do. If you didn’t do this, Buffy would never be able to get the upper hand. You may all perish in an instant.
“I can stop time, isolating it so that Buffy can still move will, uh, take a lot… But, luckily for you I am blessed with a lot of power” You insisted, feeling their resolves falter slightly. Buffy had never faced anything like this before. The Hellmouth opening was nothing compared to complete obliteration of dimensions.
The way your power works, you would be pushing against time whilst also pulling Buffy into the present with you. Shifting more than yourself was known to be near-impossible when stopping time. You had done it once before but it had taken a lot out of you.
Spike stayed stood by your side in all of this, only fending off anything that came towards you now. You nodded at him gently, he was always in awe of you, but more so every day.
It was a lot of pressure and the responsibility was crushing. But you persevered, Spike nodding by your side, giving his unending support without even having to say a word. You took a breath, closed your eyes and raised your arms, chanting rapidly.
You did it. When you opened your eyes time had stopped, your love frozen by your side.
Buffy nodded at you, able to move as you held the very threads of time together. It was already taking a toll on your body. It was like you were hanging over the edge of the universe, grip so tight that your knuckles whitened, grimace on your face as you tried to stop everything from tipping into nothingness.
You stopped time long enough for Buffy to decloak the invisible force, the Slayer was already weakened from the earlier fight but managed to kill the demon that had emerged from the book. It bled profusely, spraying the floor with an orange goo.
“Don’t- not on the book!” You screamed, if any demon blood got on that book literally anything could happen. But none of it good.
With one final flourish, Buffy managed to slay the demon and take its weapon, a long staff that had been invisible until now that was needed to return Tara back to them.
While you were watching her, you were hurting, aching all over, you couldn’t hold it any longer. While Buffy finished, you had a spinning wheel of dimensions in your mind and you dropped the book into nearest Hell dimension, hoping it could hold it.
You dropped to the floor as the book disappeared, the wind stopped and everything went silent. Tara was back to herself after a ceremonial wave of the staff, now propped up in a corner by Willow as everyone else skidded towards them. A battered Buffy included.
“You okay?” Spike asked it quietly, as you got to your feet, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention from the group. You nodded once but he wasn’t convinced. He knew you inside out and he took your hand tenderly as he spoke.
“Yeah, I-” You started but the look he gave you told you that he knew. He could sense it. You weren’t doing okay.
“I, uh, I just need some air” You said, grappling with yourself to get out of the magic shop, your hand no longer clasping Spike’s. He was on your heels, throwing a glare behind him at your friends as he went.
The others called their thanks to you as you left, while Xander tended to Buffy’s battle wounds. Your friends all loved you but they didn’t understand certain things about you. You were known as being a little odd, you went missing for periods of time and you frequently shied away from praise or gratitude. But they were fond of you all the same.
You were overwhelmed. Drained and scared you hadn’t done the right thing. What if that book was summoned in another dimension and you could do nothing to stop it? What if you had killed thousands of others by only saving the dimension you lived in?What if it came back and a different chapter opened, one where you couldn’t fight it?
Once outside, the storm had started. The thunder cracked through the air as your heart hammered through your chest. Your chest writhed in pain, as if several hands were scratching at you from within, trying to claw their way out of you. You couldn’t take a full breath, your breathing quickly shallowed, as if something was wringing out your lungs.
It had been creeping up on you ever since you had started the spell, but it had just crashed on top of you like a ton of bricks. You slid down the wall you had been leaning against, clutching your heart and fighting for breath. You were panicking.
“You’re okay, love, ‘m right here with you” Spike knew immediately what it was, crouching down beside you the ghost of his touch hovering over your shoulder as it erratically rose and fell.
“I- I can’t-” You stammered, lightning violently cracking through the air as you spoke.
“You’re okay, love.” he soothed, taking big unneeded breaths of his own to give you something to focus on. You tried to speak but he shook your head, you needed to focus on your breathing, “Breathe, Y/n, that’s right.”
He continued to breathe with you, your fingers numbing and your chest feeling like it was caving in. You felt like you needed to reach inside and stop it somehow but you could summon no amount of power or magic to stop it. This made it worse, you couldn’t control it. You couldn’t stop it and the storm raged on, worse this time as the thunder came from within.
“You’re safe, I’ve got you. Not gonna let anythin’ nasty get you, just take your time” He knelt before you, so that he was all that you could see.
As you slowly managed to regulate your breathing, you stayed sat in the same position as before. Rain started to fall as your tears broke, rolling down your face as the rain pelted down from the sky. You reached for him and he held you, arms wrapping around you as raindrops rolled down his cheeks.
You both stayed, crouched on the floor with the rain hammering down and soaking you both as he pressed the most tender kisses. First against your forehead, then your temple and finally a gentle peck against your lips.
Eventually, Spike moved, only to remove his leather duster to drape it around your shoulders. You hadn’t brought a jacket despite his insistence back in your shared crypt. He didn’t feel the weather and even if he did he would have done the same. Just as he knew you would for him.
“Sorry about…”
“Don’t you ever apologise. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, you got nothin’ to be sorry for. I meant it, I always mean it. I’m here for every part of you” The look in his eyes told you that he meant every word. There was no reason for you to ever feel embarrassed, especially not around him. You would never be a burden, nor an inconvenience.
“Thanks” you murmured, but the look he gave you told you that him being here for you was not something he needed to be thanked for, he loved you after all. He was by your side always.
“Let’s get you home, love, catch your death out here” he joked, a watery smile on your face as you pulled his jacket around you. He encouraged you to lean against him as you walked, his arm firmly around your shoulders, the weather clearing if only slightly as you went.
#spike x reader#spike x you#spike btvs#spike btvs x reader#spike imagine#spike btvs imagine#btvs#btvs x you#btvs imagine#btvs x reader#Buffy The Vampire Slayer#buffy the vampire slayer imagine#witch reader#gender neutral#gn#magic
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Adding to the “Spike eats garlic” line of thought, todays headcanon is I think Spike wears crosses sometimes. There’s been stuff in canon that implies he’s really not afraid of them even though they burn and he’s definitely not afraid of sunlight so I don’t think it’s a stretch to imagine he might wear a cross because he likes the design or he borrows one of Buffy’s. He wears it over his shirt where it doesn’t touch his skin but sometimes he forgets and reaches up and his hand grazes it.
My final thoughts are, adding all this together, I think it would be funny if there was a new member of the group that simply…didn’t clock that he was a vampire for a long time. Like yeah he seems oddly strong but they’ve never seen him in game face. Why would they think he’s a vampire?? He eats normal food all the time, he’s at Buffy’s house and the magic shop during the day, and they always just miss him crashing into the room on fire. They’ve seen him wear a cross. He’s standing in the background, tossing a bulb of garlic around like it’s a hackey sack.
The first time they see him in game face they scream and freak out and run to Buffy like “SPIKE GOT TURNED INTO A VAMPIRE!” And Buffy’s like…”yeah…he did…before radios were invented…”
#also low key inspiration but the pictures I’ve seen of jm with a cross#buffy the vampire slayer#spike#btvs headcanon#btvs imagine
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POV Vampire bf
#🗯#bro I don’t smoke but coffee and a cigarette with him >>>#btvs#spike btvs#spike#buffy the vampire slayer#vampire boyfriend#james marsters#spike imagine#spike moodboard#spike aesthetic#spike x reader
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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞
⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ
SFW🌿
⭑ When Spike falls in love, he falls hard. And I mean, head over heels, heart-aching, chest-burning, mind full of you and you only...
⭑ I think once he realises how much he loves you, he’d leave for a few weeks. No note, no telling anyone where he was going.
⭑ He needed to get away. To try and sort himself out before being around you
⭑ When he comes back, he tries to act as calmly and collected as he can.
⭑ A cigarette in his mouth whenever conversation ceased, snarky comments, but never directed towards you. It’s like his defense mechanisms don’t work when you’re around.
⭑ And he tries to move on from you. He tries so hard. But he can’t. It’s impossible.
⭑ So he tries to sway you. To seduce you; he just wants you to love him.
⭑ Flowers, red roses because he knows that’s the most romantic, although when you frown at them he insists on you telling him your favourite.
⭑ Always hanging around your house, ‘just in case of trouble,’ he would mutter in his gruff accent
⭑ I think there would be a time when he can’t hide his feelings any longer. A romantic display of his love turns sour when all the things he’s planned go awry.
⭑ And he tries. He tries and tries; protecting you, getting your groceries, fixing your car. He turns into a best friend really.
⭑ Spike listens to you - he would want you to feel like you have a person, someone you can go to with whatever is lying heavy on your chest
⭑ And he does everything within his power not to touch you - not until you’ve consented
⭑ I think a lot of people find Spike to be toxic, and it’s a genuine concern that you bring up with him. It’s something that holds you back from committing to him.
⭑ “I can be better y/n, I would never hurt you,” he stood in your living room, his arms dangling by his sides.
“Is that the truth? Because you’ve hurt so many before.”
⭑ Your belief in Spike being a changed man would be the beginning of the relationship. And he does everything in his power to be on the ‘right’ track. Like a retired villain.
⭑ The wooing and romance does not stop when you accept him. He still goes out of his way to make you feel like the most important person in the world.
⭑ “You’re looking ... most scrumptious today love,” he’d purr in your ear.
⭑ And surprisingly enough ... he does honour you and himself. Figuring out what ‘a hero’ would do and trying to do it to the best of his abilities.
Tagged: https://notanalienindisguiseblink.tumblr.com/
#spike#spike headcanons#spike buffy the vampire slayer#spike x reader#buffy the vampire slayer#buffy the vampire slayer headcanons#buffy the vampire slayer imagine#buffy the vampire slayer would include#btvs#spike btvs x reader#vampire#vampire x reader#reader insert#fanfiction#headcanons
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Not Yet (Spike x Y/N)
Requested: nope
TW: Mentions of alcohol and drinking. Mentions of rough s e x.
Word count: 1.7k
Previous | Next
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If his body wasn't cold, steam would be rolling off it. Kiss after kiss. Grope after grope. Spike couldn't get enough. He knew it was wrong. He knew it wasn't real, but he needed it. Buffy was rough and demanding in her lovemaking, if you could call it that. She threw Spike around as if boneless and limp. She focused on meeting her needs without regard to Spike or his feelings. Spike held on and let himself be dominated. Even for a moment, he felt loved.
After Buffy has had her fill, she leaves Spike spent and tired. He knew she would return later this week. He knew it wasn't the touch that he craved, but it was the touch he deserved. Though a hopeless romantic, he couldn't fathom real love. He was immersed in a world of pain and destruction, and that is all he deserved. Unless... it was with y/n. With her time stopped. He was whole. A man. With her, there was partnership and laughter. With her, there was something he didn't deserve but desperately craved.
He got dressed and ready to pick her up. It was just another night of hunting. Buffy and Y/n decided to divide and conquer instead of working together. Buffy kills vampires, and y/n kills demons. Their decision to go their separate ways meant that Spike had to make time for both, being degraded and then being valued. Honestly, he preferred the latter.
He strolled down to y/n's house, ready to be by her side. He wanted to enjoy her scent, her presence, and her kindness. He promised to knock on the door instead of barging in, so he complies. Two knocks, and he waits.
You open the door, greeting him in your bathrobe. Spike is taken aback. "A bit early, am I?"
You chuckle, "no. I forgot to tell you yesterday. I'm taking the day off today. I want to rest."
Spike is crestfallen. You resting was good for your health but bad for his heart. This meant he wouldn't get time by your side.
"Oh... well... alright then. I'll see you..." He tries to hide his disappointment.
"I didn't say you had to leave."
A smile trails his face. "What do you have planned?" He said leaning against your doorframe.
"Well," you pondered, "you owe me a dance..." You grin.
He sighs, feigning annoyance when, in fact, he's been dreaming of the chance to hold you again. "Fine."
You invite him in. "Wait here. Let me change."
He sits on the couch. He takes in the scent of your home. It was you enveloping him, welcoming him. He could get used to this. To be in your space was to be at peace.
You come out in a flowy sundress. He forgets that he has no breath and feels a loss of air. As if the sight of you could bring him back to life. He stands up quickly.
"Darling, you are a vision."
You blush, "it's just an old dress."
He smiles softly as he approaches you. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You lock eyes, and time stops.
You catch the faint smell of Buffy on his skin. The smell of leather, dirt, and cigarette masks it well. You remind yourself of your friendship. There's nothing more. You remind yourself to breathe.
"Where do we start?" He whispers.
"Let's move some furniture and I'll get some tunes off my phone."
You work together to make space in the living room. You find a generic watlz Playlist, and you take your places in the center of the room.
Spike feels nervous and silly. He has waltzed many times but never with anyone of interest. Here you were, his friend waiting for his touch, his guidance.
He places his left hand on your back and holds your left hand with his right, and it felt like it's the first time he has been touched. You hold his hand firmly and place your other hand on his shoulder. It felt right.
The music starts. Soft. He guides your body, and you follow. Your turn and sway to the music, feeling the ebb and flow of your bodies. Synchronicity and attunement. You were a unit, inseparable.
Spike looked into your eyes, swimming for his life. He recognized something in them. Something he didn't deserve.
You locked eyes with Spike. A smile painted on your face. This was the moment you wished for. It felt like peace. It felt like the end of your journey. You wondered how you could use this moment to break your curse, but it was far too weak to take over a 1,000 year old curse. Nevertheless, it was perfect. It's been so long since you've been able to rest.
"Does this please you, love?" Spike asked as you both danced.
You nodded, "It reminds me of the last time I danced. It's been so long."
"Thinking of another man while in my arms, you dirty bird?" He smirked
You laugh, "No. I'm thinking of how good it felt. Dancing is very relaxing."
"So, no man comes to mind?" He asks, a little jealousy in his voice.
"Oh, yeah. One man. A British guy, poet, auburn hair, with glasses. A sweet man with beautiful eyes. Too shy for my taste but definitely a prize." You mused much to Spike's disdain.
"Sounds like a pratt." He said through his teeth.
You laugh, big and full. "He was a crush for the moment. Someone to dream a future with. Even though I knew it was impossible, he made me feel free." You made sure to dig in on your remarks. Part of you knew that this was your getback for Spike sleeping with Buffy. If he had her, why couldn't you at least have your memories.
Spike did a mistep causing you to fall into him. Your face against his chest, his hands catching your body. You both still. You raise your face. You're mere inches from his face. Lips, almost gracing. Your breath hitches in your chest. Spike looks down at you intrigued at your next move.
"Did he ever hold you like this?" He whispered.
"No..."
Time stops, and you feel like melting into him. So close and yet so far. You knew better, but at this moment, all that mattered was what he tasted like. At the same time, you wanted to ask if it felt like this when he held Buffy. The thought pushed you away from the moment. You straightened and stepped away.
"Do you want water?" You walk into the kitchen.
Spike smacks his forehead. What was he doing? What did he want? He follows you into the kitchen. "Got any booze?"
"Oh, it's that kind of party?" You giggle.
You bring out different types of liquers and beers. "Pick your poison."
"Shots and then drinks."
You pour two shots. You both pick it up and clink your drinks before drinking it. You both sigh at the bitterness of the spirit.
You share a bottle of wine. A bittersweet red. Something that reminded Spike of blood.
"Thank you. That was fun." You break the silence.
Spike grins, "Anytime, love. It's been awhile. Sorry for stopping abruptly." He says in between sips of the wine.
You nod not knowing how to address his reaction to you talking about a past love. You didn't know how to communicate how much you loved his reaction, or the fact that he held you that close.
Spike becomes aware of Buffy's scent on him. Embarrassment takes over. He hoped that you didn't notice. How could he knock boots with Buffy and then run into your arms? You deserved respect. He made a mental note to shower next time.
You both drank the night away. Chatting and connecting. You share laughter and playful touches. The touches lingered with time. Personal space was non-existent. By the end of the night, you were cuddling on your couch. You were sleepy, and your words slurred, which made you giggle more. Spike watched attentively and committed every smile and sigh to memory.
"The sun is about to raise, love." He mentioned.
You stirred in his arms, "Already?"
He held you close, taking in the scent of your hair. "Yes, love." He hated the idea of moving, but he knew this wasn't his scene. Not yet.
You both, slowly, part. You miss his body, and he misses yours. You both slowly get up, wordless.
"Are you staying?" You ask silently.
"Not tonight, love." He hated himself for that answer.
"I understand." You mask the disappointment in your voice.
He walks to your kitchen and comes back with a cup of water. " 'm not leaving 'till you drink it."
"Then I'm never drinking it." You smile as you take the cup.
He smiles, big, and full. "Cheeky."
You finish the water and set the cup down on your coffee table. You walk Spike to the door. "Thank you again. You're the best friend I've ever had."
Spike is taken aback by your compliment. He basks in it. "Anything for you, love." He leans in and kisses her cheek. He turns and walks away before you can react.
You place a hand where his lips were. You felt lightheaded, but you didn't know if it was the alcohol or Spike's affection.
Spike walked fast-paced but happy all the way to his mausoleum. He pondered his actions tonight. He went fom degradation to...dare he say it? Not yet. He wanted time to bask in the effects of tonight. The sensations. The scents. He wanted to capture tonight into his being forever. Never had he had such intimacy, so much vulnerability. All ready for the picking, but not yet. He had much to offer but not enough to be loved by her, or so he told himself. He didn't deserve it. Not yet. Someday, soon, he will be able to bypass the degradation and the self-mutilation that is his rendezvous with Buffy. On that day, he will be good enough, whatever that means, for y/n... but not yet. So, until then, he had pain, destruction, and tonight's memory to keep him afloat.
#spike the bloody#spike x you#spike x reader#spike x y/n#spike x yn#spike btvs#spike#btvs x reader#btvs imagine#btvs#buffy the vampire slayer#william pratt#william the bloody
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