#buffy the vampire slayer imagines

[prose-for-hire]

Stake your bets

Pairing: Faith x reader; Buffy x platonic!reader

Request: hi, would it be okay to request a story or maybe hc's if you prefer about dating faith and being buffy's best friend and trying to make them get along? I love your work, I hope you're not overwhelmed by all the requests you're getting

Requested by: Anon

A/N: I think we can safely say I probably was overwhelmed by my requests lol !! Sorry for the wait, love, hope this one’s okay! 💖

You and Buffy had been best friends pretty much since her first day at high school. She had sat next to you in English class and you had to borrow a pencil when yours flew across the classroom. She was the best friend you had ever had, you told each other everything and nothing was ever too much information to share between you. I mean, you had saved the world together.

You shared so many amazing memories, some good and some bad. Some absolutely terrifying.

You were so close that you could barely find one of you without the other. You basically lived at each other’s houses. Attached at the hip. You just got on, you couldn’t explain it. Even when you argued, you never feared losing her as a friend. You knew there would be nothing worth losing your friendship over. So, when you started dating Faith, you knew it would be hard for her. But you hoped that she would be happy for you at least to begin with.

You had met Faith in the same way as everyone else when she had ran in and borrowed Buffy’s stake to dust a vamp before introducing herself at the Bronze. You didn’t know what to think of her to begin with, she was obviously very attractive (and she knew about it too). She kept to herself a lot after that, she didn’t really give much away other than that she liked to party and slay.

Her I-don’t-care persona intrigued you and after a while, you found yourself becoming more and more drawn to her. It was slowly at first, you paid more attention to the little things.

How she near always avoided talking about herself seriously. How she got a kick out of helping people but hated to let it show. And the cigarette she would always treat herself to after a really good slay. Even the gum she always bought and chewed on long patrols for something to do. By this point, it had made you wonder if this habit made her lips taste of ‘Very berry’…

You had it bad. You had grown close although she always appeared to be keeping you at a distance. Until one evening, you had asked if you could come on patrol with her. To her, it appeared out of the blue, but you had been trying and failing to ask all week. By Friday, you had worked up enough courage to ask and she shrugged to show that she didn’t mind, and you tried to hide your elation as you walked beside her into the night.

You spoke about anything and everything on that patrol, savouring every time you made her laugh. Real, genuine laughter from Faith was a divine sound. Though, you would never tell her that or risk getting teased within an inch of your life. At the end of the night, you rounded a corner and without saying anything, she slid her hand into yours. She was bold, much bolder than you. You would have waited at least a year to do something as scandalous and intimate as holding her hand.

But not her. Usually, she would have pressed you against a wall and kissed you without even a second thought, but that came a little later. There was something about you that, for once in her life, made her want to take things slow. It meant something. With you. And there was no chance she was letting you go once she realised that she had you.

Your relationship turned into a very well-kept secret. Not only because Faith thought pda and being as soft as she could be with you in public would make her look weak to humans and demons alike. But mostly because by this point, Buffy was starting to get jealous. Not because she wanted to date you, not at all. But because she thought she had been replaced by Faith as your very best friend.

You had tried to balance your time between them equally, honest you had. But there was only so much time in a day and your relationship was new and you found yourself aching for Faith every moment you spent apart.

One day, you woke up by Faith’s side pressed against the soft skin of her back and you knew it was the day you wanted everyone to know about your relationship. You couldn’t describe why or what had made this day so special, it was like any other. You woke up by her side in the mid-morning glow and pressed soft kisses against her exposed shoulder to wake her up. She turned and sleepily reached for you, sighing contently in a way she never had before she started to share her bed with you.

Later that day, when you had reluctantly left your girlfriend’s side, you met up with Buffy for your usual catch up at the Espresso Pump. She told you all of the latest gossip and she passed you an unusual looking rock she had picked up on patrol (you always collected weird looking rocks and trinkets when you went out patrolling with your best friend because sometimes it could get really boring).

You eventually managed to broach the subject that had been making you nervous the entire time you had spent at the coffee shop. You knew that Buffy would never end your friendship over anything like this, but her approval and support really mattered to you. And you just wanted her and Faith to get on.

“I need to tell you something…”

“If you’re gonna tell me you’re a secret vampire I might give you a 30 second head start before I start slaying” Buffy said, a hint of a smile in her voice although she could tell you were a little uneasy. Buffy had firmly decided that she didn’t like Faith. They were too different, they never seemed to agree on anything. Especially not slaying. So you didn’t want to cause yet another argument by admitting that you were dating.

But you couldn’t keep it from your best friend. You had kept exactly three secrets from her before this one and all led to a near-death experience (on your part). So you had learned the hard way to trust her with even your darkest secrets.

“No, it’s, well… me and Faith. We’re together. I think I might love her, actually” You said softly. She had never seen you like this, you had relationships in the past. Good ones, even. But never one like this. Where you had fallen so deeply and so willingly for someone. For your Faith.

“You’ve got to be kidding, the Emo slayer? She-who-must-not-be-tamed?”

“Please, just, hear me out before you start the name calling. What are you, seven?”

“One word: why?”

After a long conversation, that went off on several tangents and consisted of one shared cry and a long hug, you and Buffy were on good terms. You didn’t like keeping things from her and she admitted her own secrets she had been withholding too. Things went back to normal between you and Buffy and were even better between you and Faith. It told your lover that she mattered to you, that you wanted everyone to know that you were with her.

“I told her”

“Yeah? You actually want people to know about us then, huh?” she said this as if she assumed you might be embarrassed to love someone like her. But that could never be true.

“Faith, I love you. I would announce it to the world if I could” you insisted, taking her hand in yours and pressing a delicate kiss to the back of her hand. You swore you saw her blush as she pulled you into her, her lips meeting yours in a way that it never had. It was her way of telling you that she loved you back. She wasn’t quite able to say the words yet, but you knew instantly from the sensitive graze of her lips against yours that she had never felt anything more.

However, it took a good, long while to get Buffy and Faith back in the same room without them both exchanging some kind of snide comment. They were both intensely jealous people, though neither would admit it. But they both cared for you even more so and eventually, came around to trying to get on. For you.

Luckily, you were a person with a plan. In fact, you had made a list. Ten pages long (front and back) of ways you were going to convince them that they should both get along. Some of the most ridiculous ideas included hiring a paid vampire to try and attack them whilst also helping them bond as well as telling them that there was an ancient prophecy that the slayers had to like each other or the world could end.

You chose game night as your first activity. Which, in hindsight was probably not your best idea on the list as it brought with it a big element of competition. Something you could have done without. You had chosen Monopoly at first but there had been a creative interpretation of the rules by both of the slayers and so you had to call the end and pretend it was a draw to save each of them from ripping the other’s head off.

When you settled on poker, after Faith took out some matches to use after Buffy said she didn’t want to use real money. You had been on a losing streak for most of the night and you had been teased twice that it was a good job you weren’t playing strip poker. Something Faith quickly added she wouldn’t want to do with Buffy even if she paid her.

But suddenly, you started to win. Just a few games at first but you got better as the night went on. As did the mood between Buffy and Faith. They were civil, at least, and that was all you could really ask for.

Eventually, you realised that they were letting you win. Not only that, but they had silently agreed on this while you weren’t paying attention. They didn’t like that little droopy look you did when you realised you lost. They did a good job of letting you lose just enough times that you really could have been winning by your own skill. But you had seen glances of their cards every now and again and saw they weren’t playing their best hands.

You never called them out though, you didn’t let on that you knew because they had found a way to work together. To get on even if they weren’t as close with each other as you were with them both. Perhaps they never would be, but what made you glow was that they were at least making an effort. For you.

You ended up having regular game nights to unwind whenever there was no heavy slayer patrol needed, you leaned against Faith, lacing your hands with hers. She accused you of looking at her cards but never moved from the comfort of your touch. Buffy pretended to gag at the proximity you shared but you could see the way the corners of her mouth twitched into a slight smile. She had never seen you so happy and it was truly all she wanted for you. To be your happiest.

It actually went well for a while, you could be yourself around these women and you loved them both dearly, in different ways. You spent most of your time with your best friend and your girlfriend and found yourself having fun.

That was, of course, until Buffy found out about Faith and the Mayor…

#Faith x reader #Faith lehane x reader #Faith x you #Faith lehane x you #btvs #btvs imagine #btvs x you #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #btvs x reader #Buffy summers #Buffy summers x reader #fluff #faith lehane imagine #faith imagine #x reader #gender neutral #gn reader #buffy

[the-crooked-library]

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

[liam-summers]

Bangel + Forehead Touch

#btvsedit #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #atsedit #bangel #buffy x angel #buffy summers #angel btvs #*gif #zanisummers #dailybtvs #usernaj #buffyverse #otp: how's forever? #imagine being this in love #the softest #body language....they just HAVE it

[theseventhveil1945]

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER Created by Joss Whedon (1997-2003)

#btvsedit #buffyedit #tvedit #slayerdaily #buffy the vampire slayer #this has been sitting in my drafts since october #i love dru's manicure it's giving imagine being the first victorian bitch to rock acrylic nails

[evieelyzabethh]

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

[specialagentlokitty]

Spike x reader - my good thing

Standing on the edge of the field, you smiled a little to yourself as you looked up slightly at the endless amount of stars that were above you.

You were out there waiting for the meteor shower to start, it had been something you were looking forward to the whole month.

Just something for you, without college, or hunting the supernatural, or having to listen to everybody complain about everybody to you.

This was time for you.

At least it was supposed to be.

You heard a branch snap, and you turned around, watching as the white haired vampire came stumbling out of the trees, brushing his jacket down.

You sighed, but you offered him a small smile when he looked up at you.

“How did you find me?”

“Slayer told me where you were, or, roughly where you were.”

You nodded, and he walked over, standing next to you while you turned back to carry on watching the stars.

“They want me to bring you back to help them.”

You nodded a little, turning around so you could face where the calorie had just come from.

“Alright, lead the way.”

Spike furrowed his brows a little.

“I said they told me to get you, not that I was going to actually take you, I just wanted out of the boring meeting and decided to see what it was you were doing here and if it were any fun.”

You smiled at him, shaking your head a little.

“Sorry Spike, I don’t think this will be any fun for you.”

“Who says it won’t? What are you doing anyway?”

“Well, I’m waiting for the meteor shower, this one doesn’t happen all that often, but it’ll be twice as big as any of the others, it’ll cover the whole sky!” You beamed.

You turned back to the sky, putting your hands into your pockets.

Spike glanced at you a little and scoffed.

“You’re right, that is boring. Later.”

“Bye, have a good night!”

You beamed at him again, and Spike began to walked away before he stopped.

He glanced at you just standing there unprotected, not a single care in the world and he cursed quietly to himself.

They would kill him if something happened to you, or even blame him, so he had to turn around and make his way back over to you.

“How long does this take?” He grumbled.

“Spike you don’t have to stay, I’ll be alright, I’ve got this whole area cornered off to monsters.”

Spike furrowed his brows a little.

“Then why did I find you?”

“You’re on the list of people who can come through it.”

The way you said it so happily and casually with a smile on your face.

You said it like it was so casual, so normal, as if he were one of the humans you were always hanging around with.

Not that he was a powerful vampire and the only thing stopping him from ripping your head off was a little chip in his brain.

Or one of the two things stopping him at least.

You were bouncing on the balls of your feet, and you reached out to the grass, brushing your fingers along it.

A few bugs flew up, lighting themselves up and spike jumped back in shock.

“What the hell kind magic was that?!”

You laughed a little.

“No magic, they’re fireflies!”

You grinned that innocent little grin when you found something absolutely fascinating, not like demons or vampires or anything like that.

But a pure, wholesome fascination, like when someone brought you a new book you had never seen, or you had completed a new spell perfectly for the first time.

It was a pure, innocent grin that made Spike wonder how despite everything that had happened, everything you had seen or been through you could still be so happy and bright about everything.

Spike watched the fireflies as they danced about a little bit, and he shuffled back a little as one came near him.

“Come on Spike, they won’t hurt you. They’re harmless.”

“They’re bugs that glow in the dark, I don’t like that, it’s not natural.”

“They’re natural, compared to most things in this town at least.”

You reached up, gently guiding the firefly away from him back towards its friends.

“There’s loads of them in the grass, it’s so cool when they all fly upwards, like it’s like the stars all fell from the sky!”

“It would be a total disaster if the stars fell from the sky love, even you know that.”

You shrugged a little.

“Well, yeah. But it’ll still be pretty at least, if that’s the last thing I saw before I died I’d be okay with that.”

Spike glanced down at you.

“Really, burning stars, millions of them falling from the sky and you would be okay if that was the last thing you saw before one of them killed you?”

You laughed a little.

“Okay, okay when you put it like that maybe not so much, but I mean come on, you have to admit it would be nice.”

“Can’t say it’s what I would want to see before I died.”

You looked at him in curiosity.

“Then what would you want to see?”

Glanced looking at you before he turned away again.

“That’s none of your business.”

You grinned again, and you looked back out at the grass.

“You know what you need Spike?”

“What that?” He asked.

“You need to have some fun, not like beat demons up and drink blood kinda fun, like just pure, wholesome fun, you know? Like road trips and… and things like that!”

He rose a brow at you.

“Now I may have forgotten but I’m pretty sure the whole part of being a vampire is I can’t go out in the sun. Plus what’s so wrong with my lifestyle?”

You sighed, turning around to look at him.

“Everybody treats you like a monster, you help them and they still don’t trust you despite everything. And I mean yeah they probably have a reason to, but I think you’ve been a vampire for far too long.”

“Maybe I have, I’m pretty okay with that though. You seem to value life so much, tell me, why is that? Won’t you just die in the end anyway?”

You shrugged slightly, turning your attention back towards the sky.

“Well, yeah. That can make life pretty morbid.”

“Then why are you always so happy?”

“There so much beauty, it varies from person to person, I like the small things, the unnoticed things. Stars, nature, old paintings and vintage music.”

“So, you’re an old person in a young persons body?”

You laughed, smiling softly at him.

“Life is short spike, and unpredictable. If we don’t pay attention to what’s right in front of us, it’s easy to miss it until it’s all gone. Then it’ll be too late.”

“For a vampire life is long, I have all the time in the world.”

“You’re immoral to old age, not to death itself Spike.”

You sighed, and you turned back to the stars.

“One day you’ll die too, and you’ll regret all the things that you never did. Stop trying to be the big bad for once, just be happy.”

“That’s a disgusting statement, I am the big bad, I will always be the big bad.”

“Uh huh, the big bag who’s scared of bugs!”

“Hey!”

Spike tried to grab your arm but you ran into the grass and he ran after you, immediately getting swarmed by the fireflies.

He swatted his hands around, accidentally hitting you and he yelled in pain, clutching at his head as he dropped to his knee.

“Bloody hell! It’s like a death trap here!” He yelled.

You knelt next to him, placing your hands over his on his head.

You whispered something, and the pain rattling around in his skull faded.

Spike looked up at you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for your to get hurt.”

“I’m the one that hit you. What did you do to me? Why doesn’t it hurt?”

You smiled at him, moving your hands away from his and you rested them on your knees.

“It’s a healing spell, it takes your pain, that’s all, or at least lessens it, which for you would be like me taking it away.”

You sat down, leaning back on your hands as you looked at the hundreds of fireflies dancing about, lights slowly moving around.

Spike sat there watching you, a hand behind him, the other resting in his knee, and he turned his gaze up to the sky as well.

A few meteors shot across the sky and a small gasp left you.

“Spike look!”

“Yes love, I can see them I have eyes you know.”

He looked back at you, sitting up a little bit so he was able to see you a little better.

You wore the softest smile, a gleam of excitement in your eyes.

“They’re so beautiful…”

“Yeah, they are.”

You chuckled a little bit.

“I know you’re looking at me, I can feel your eyes on me.”

Spike got up, and he moved over, crouching in front of you, his arms resting on his legs.

“Is that so wrong?”

You turned your head towards him.

“Spike?”

Reaching up, he carefully placed a hand on the side of your face, and you looked at him in utter confusion which made him chuckled a little.

“Come now, you really can’t pretended you haven’t noticed anything.”

“Noticed what?”

He sighed.

“Come on love, I know you know. I just need to know if you feel the same way.”

You didn’t reply and he sighed again.

He’d been trying to make it obvious to you, without directly telling you. He tried being nice, he tried being mean, he tried getting you things or just following your around.

Now he was just going to be upfront about it.

“You’re so soft, so gentle. You are everything somebody like me doesn’t deserve, somebody I would never deserve, I’m evil, you’re good. It could never work out.”

“So, then why are you here?” You asked quietly.

“Because I want you, and I don’t care how selfish it is. I want one good thing for myself, I want you to be that one good thing I have.”

“Spike…”

He leant forward, brushing his lips against yours.

“Be that one good thing in my life…” he whispered.

You smiled, leaning forward, connecting your lips either his.

Your hands gently gripped at his jacket, pulling him a little closer.

Spike smirked into the kiss and you pulled away, and he chased your lips trying to kiss you again.

“Spike the meteors..”

“Alright! Alright.”

You smiled, shuffling around and you laid your head in his lap, staring up at him, the shooting stars above his head.

You reached up, gently touching his cheek.

“I know you’ve been trying to get my attention for months.”

“So… you’ve been ignoring me then?”

You just grinned a little.

“I wanted to be sure I guess… that I wasn’t going to be just another you know.. like.. conquest or something…”

Spike placed his hand on yours.

“Now I could never do that to someone as pure as you, I could never hurt you in such a way love.”

He lifted your head, and shuffled down so he could lay down as well, resting your head in his chest.

Your hand held his, running your thumb along the back of his hand, small circles against his skin.

It was a strange feeling for him, we was used to violence, aggression, anger.

With you it was care, compassion, gentle.

He was sure if he had a soul, and a beating heart this would probably be what you would consider to be true love and happiness.

Spike never understood your whole love for nature and all the little things, but in this moment he did, he really understood it.

It wasn’t the first time he was so close to you, but it was the closest he’d been to you, and he loved it, he loved your warmth, and how soft you were.

It wasn’t killing or being the big bad, but this was definitely his new favourite memory he would remember for as long as he lived, he just hoped there was time to make many more.

“Spike?”

He hummed a little.

You sat up, and you leant down, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad you’re here too love.”

He pulled you down into his embrace, and you rested your head on his shoulder, going back to look at the night sky

#buffy the vampire slayer imagine #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy the vampire slayer x reader #Buffy the vampire slayer x you #spike x reader #spike #spike x you #spike imagine

[readingbookelf]

The Defense Rests - Spike

Summary: The Scooby-gang holds an emergency meeting when they find out you're dating Spike.

Pairing: fem!reader x Spike

My Writing | Taglist

You’re at Giles’ home, currently being yelled at by Xander, who apparently saw you kissing Spike last night. Instead of just talking to you about it, in private, he called an emergency meeting. Hence the yelling while everyone else just stares at you.

“Spike is a psychotic killer and you’re handing yourself to him on a silver platter. Have you forgotten how he came into our lives? What he was going to do to Buffy for his precious Dru? Who is also nuts in the head, I might add,” Xander practically yells in your face.

“I did not forget, but I’ve used my eyes these past few months. Spike has helped us out more times than one, even when he didn’t need too. Also he hasn’t attacked anyone in months…” you trail off at the end knowing the only reason he hasn’t attacked anyone is because of the chip the Initiative has planted in his head.

Xander scoffs, ready for round two, but Buffy jumps in.

“Xander, you have to admit he’s helped us out… a lot in the past few months. Figuring out who the initiative is, what they do, even fighting demons or helping out with the latest threat. I’m not pro-Spike and I still don’t trust him, but if he makes y/n happy then that’s enough for me. Also I’m the last one to condemn anyone for dating a vampire,” Buffy finishes with a wink towards you.

“Thank you, Buffy,” you whisper.

“So we’re going to ignore the fact he would kill us all if he didn’t have that chip in his head,” Xander asks.

“Xander, last week you admitted that Spike has grown on you. What about all the times you spoke about ‘everything we’ve been through together’ just to try and convince Spike to help out? Don’t you think you’re being hypocritical,” you ask softly.

Xander scoffs but doesn’t make another move to convince you Spike is the devil incarnate.

“And on that note I’m out of here. I’ve got a bed that’s calling my name,” you say before getting up.

“Don’t you mean a certain someone who’s waiting for you in your bed,” Willow quips, wiggling her eyes.

Everyone groans.

-----

When you walk through your front door, you find Spike on your couch watching a movie.

“Home already or you haven't left yet,” you ask the blond man.

“Home for the night,” he replies while smiling at you cheekily.

That smile never fails to make you weak in the knees. You let yourself fall onto the couch next to Spike while letting out the biggest sigh of your life.

“The scooby doo-meeting was that bad, huh,” he asks. “The end of the world again,” he chuckles.

You look at Spike and see the concern shining in his eyes. He puts his arm around you and pulls you close into his side. You let your head fall on his shoulder and nuzzle close.

“The end of the world for Xander,” you scoff.

“What do you mean,” Spike asks.

“You were right that someone was watching us last night. After seeing us together Xander followed us and saw us kiss. Hence the emergency meeting,” you explain.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Spike exclaims while jumping up.

Immediately your hand circles around his wrist. You give a little pull to make him sit down again. He sighs and sits down next to you once more.

“Who does he think he is? He’s dating a vengeance demon for god’s sake,” Spike spits out.

You rub his shoulder trying to calm him down.

“There was a discussion. I defended you. Buffy jumped in. Everyone is more or less okay with it. I’m kind of done talking about this, Spike. Xander’s opinionated. I’ve seen the way he was with Buffy and Angel.”

You shake your head at the end. The uncomfortable memory resurfacing. He was so mean to Buffy. It’s hard dealing with the supernatural world as a human. You realise how fragile your life really is. It causes Xander to act out like this, and it’s not an excuse, but it gives him some leeway when he explodes.

“I still hate that you had to sit through that meeting all by yourself. I should’ve been there. I’m part of this relationship,” he says fiercely.

You take his hand and squeeze.

“You were. There was this little annoying voice that sounded a lot like you edging me on while I was defending you…and calling Xander names I won’t repeat,” you chuckle.

A twinkle lights in Spike’s eyes. He presses his lips firmly on yours. A moan slips past your lips by the sheer force of it all. Slowly you pull away.

“I like you. You like me. And everyone else can suck it,” Spike says before kissing you once more.

#buffy the vampire slayer #buffy the vampire slayer x reader #buffy the vampire slayer imagine #buffy the vampire slayer x you #spike x reader #spike #spike imagine #spike x you #spike x y/n #ness writes

[geekynerfherder]

Showcasing art from some of my favourite artists, and those that have attracted my attention, in the field of visual arts, including vintage; pulp; pop culture; books and comics; concert posters; fantastical and imaginative realism; classical; contemporary; new contemporary; pop surrealism; conceptual and illustration.

The art of Mona Finden.

#Art #Mona Finden #Firefly #The Dark Crystal #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #League Of Legends #Jinx #Elden Ring #Sekiro #Fantasy Art #Fantastical Art #Imaginative Realism #Japan #Japanese #Samurai #Final Fantasy #Final Fantasy XII #Final Fantasy 12 #FFXII

[ang3lik]

KINKTOBER

(masterlist.)

hi!! so basically i thought instead of doing a celebration for 2k i’ll just do a kinktober and ficmas!! i want to thank you all so much for all the wonderful support and feedback i’ve received, even though writing has been a pain, thankyou all for being so kind and patient! i love you all so much! <3

there’ll be 4 fics each week starting on the 03/10 and finishing on the 31/10.

week one ::

• 3/10 — bill kaulitz x size kink…. • 5/10 — owen x public sex… • 7/10 — sophie d’or x temperature play…. • 9/10 — jacob black x breeding kink…

week two ::

• 11/10 — tom kaulitz x daddy kink… • 13/10 — vampire!bill kaulitz x blood play…. • 15/10 — faith lehane x degradation… • 17/10 — never!tedros x throat training…

week three ::

• 19/10 — kevin khatchadourian x dacryphilia… • 21/10 — edward cullen x monster fucking… • 23/10 — gustav schäfer x praise kink… • 25/10 — cordelia chase x mommy kink…

week four ::

• 27/10 — carlisle cullen x spit kink… • 29/10 — georg listing x phone sex… • 31/10 — tom kaulitz x roleplay/fearplay/knifeplay…

i really hope you enjoy this event! and of course enjoy the spooky season!! 🎃

#kinktober 23’ #triggering content #tokio hotel #the school for good and evil #twilight #buffy the vampire slayer #angel the series #we need to talk about kevin #tokio hotel x reader #tsfgae #twilight x reader #btvs #kevin khatchadourian #tokio hotel smut #sfgae #jacob black #kevin khatchadourian x reader #tokio hotel imagine #sge #edward cullen #kevin khatchadourian smut #bill kaulitz #sge movie #carlisle cullen #tom kaulitz #sge netflix #jacob black x reader #georg listing #sge sophie #edward cullen x reader

[quality-whether-current-produc]

#csm #john soap mactavish #yoonseok #bruce banner #hajime hinata #Everglow #the sims 4 #sunghoon #chris evans imagine #exercise #buffy the vampire slayer #hard k1nk #tony perry

[prose-for-hire]

She hates me

This was my fic for @idabbleincrazy​‘s 1k I can’t believe it’s classic rock challenge !!

(I’m sorry it’s so ridiculously late, but I still wanted to post it !!)

Pairing: Spike x fem!reader 

(or I guess it can be read as Spike x Buffy maaaybe if she was a little ooc and you just squint a little)

Desc: I chose the song She hates me by Puddle of mudd and the phrase ‘Oh fuck off’ !! I decided to actually... challenge myself for this challenge and write something with a bit more angst. Rather than ‘you’ I use ‘she’ pronouns throughout.

Warning: unresolved angst, swearing, arguing, alcohol consumption.

The room was dark by design, the lights dimmed as much as they could be. The clientele of the place weren’t the kind to appreciate any kind of harsh lighting. Not just because it may harm the several pairs of eyes on some demons faces, but because it made it easier to navigate without the stares the less humanoid in feature were accustomed to.

He had braved the bar despite almost every demon in there having him at the top of their hit list. He needed this, needed to be away from the crypt. Everywhere he looked it reminded him of her. Of moments of fervent intimacy. Of stolen moments where she appeared to be right there with him.

Now he couldn’t stop second-guessing it. Everything. Finally seeing through what had been so obvious, if he hadn’t been distracted by how deeply he felt for her.

He sat at the bar. Hunched over his drink. He was several rounds in and not even likely to be halfway through his alcohol intake for the night. Regulars would recognise his face and mutter in disdain, but he didn’t care. His mind was on her. It was always on her.

Here he was again, a place he had found himself in much more frequently. Since her. He always found himself, alone, sitting at the bar and knocking back as much liquor as he could take. He had become a regular, giving the phrase ‘drowning your sorrows’ a new meaning.

There had been a silence for a moment, only interrupted occasionally by growls and whispers about him by demons from the corners of the room. Someone had hit the faulty jukebox on their way past to the bar and jolted it back into action. It was magically programmed to have any song on there that one could imagine and yet this one starts up. He scoffed, downing the rest of his drink.

Met a girl, thought she was grand. Fell in love, found out first hand…

The voice reverberated around his head, making him feel like the room was spinning. Or, perhaps that was the alcohol. His jaw tensed at the words, managing to hear through the fog of his mind and fully experience the meaning.

Because, well, the words spoke to him. He felt them. He was thinking them before the lyrics had put it painfully back into the forefront of his mind.

Went well for a week or two. Then it all came unglued

He growled at this, an involuntary response. His anger began to seep from every pore. About the situation. About her. He turned swiftly and threw an empty glass bottle at the speakers.

The bartender tries to intervene and ask him to leave but before he opened his mouth, he saw Spike’s demeanour. This man was in pain and he had a soft spot for the lonely, heartbroken demons of Sunnydale.

“Let me get you a drink” He offered as Spike patted his pockets down for any cash.

“Hey, this one’s on me. You wanna talk about it?” The bartender asked, scanning the blonde vampire as he spoke.

“Don’t swing that way, mate” He said flatly. Although he cast an eye over the man before he said so. No, he was too concerned with her. As he always was. He could only ever go her way and that was what made this worse. He wanted to fuck away the image of her in his mind. Drink it away. Do anything that could possibly burn her image from where it was stuck fast in his brain.

“Uh, no. I’m offering my ear pal. Most say I’m good to vent to” He shrugged, a third arm slid from under the bar to pass him a drink.

In a trap, trip I can't grip. Never thought I'd be the one who'd slip

“She’s bloody left again… left me hollow – a space she could only fill” he groaned, knowing how pathetic he sounded.

Spike had been trapped. In the web of the words she would spin for him. Such beautiful words that had spoken to his romantic heart. To the idea that had always lived in his mind that he would find the one. One that would last an eternity. That he could love with both heart and mind.

He thought back to how it had been. He began to recount it to the guy behind the bar. Visions of the good that clouded his mind, made him near ready to get up of his seat and walk straight to her. Sink to his knees before her, promise her that his heart would never stray. No matter what she thought. What she said. He hated that he was this way, hated that he would lose the last thread of his pride so that he could tie it into a bow and gift it to her.

She had walked out on him three times, including the latest incident. This one had been the worst, there was something so final about it. That look on her face. As if she wouldn’t care if he had been dusted before her eyes.

When it was good though, it was really good. Devastatingly good. Addictive, even. They spent hours in bed, skin touching skin. There were rough, passionate encounters that led to both parties panting and glowing with pleasure. Other times could be surprisingly tender, holding hands and whispers that led to feelings spilling out. Mostly from Spike, but she had let on that she felt something during the throws of passion.

When they were alone this way, he felt as if he were on top of the world.

Then I started to realize. I was living one big lie…

He had known from the beginning that their relationship, or whatever it was, would have to be a secret. It had been fun at first, sneaking around under everyone’s noses. That was until the guilt settled in. He noticed that she started to pull away. Refused to even discuss telling anyone or calling their relationship what it was. She couldn’t let anybody know about them.

Spike sighed, nursing his drink as he explained how it had been getting harder to get time alone with her. How she didn’t even acknowledge his existence around other people. Especially not her precious Scoobies.

“Didn’t speak to me, would barely look my way. Pretended like the night before hadn’t happened” He said, his voice cracked at the memory. At how she could walk through her life as if it meant nothing. That he meant nothing to her.

He wanted to hold her, to have some sort of intimacy that wasn’t just a quickie whenever she could find the time to slip into the crypt unannounced. But after a while, she always insisted she was busy. Found excuses for why she couldn’t stay very long after they finished up. It hurt him. Wounded him in such a way that his insecurity became too much.

He had started to follow her, to see if there was another guy. One that she left his bed to see. He never caught her with anyone but she did catch him following her one night. He had thought he was at a safe distance but somehow she had spotted him. Might have been something to do with the cloud of smoke that signalled his presence.

She had screamed at him and, although he knew he was in the wrong, he shouted back. That had been the beginning of the end, he realised. She didn’t trust him as much, wouldn’t come round as often. Not even to allow him to explain.

He sighed, trying to explain himself to the demon behind the bar, “She just-”

She fucking hates me. Trust, she fucking hates me

The music kicked back in and finished his sentence for him as he lit up a cigarette and recalled the events of earlier that evening. They had been arguing. Again. He saw her pulling away further and had confronted her about it. Seeking solace, some kind of reassurance that she would stay. Instead, he was met with her blank expression as she waited for him to finish his usual accusatory speech.

Instantly, he felt her disinterest and interpreted it in his own mind. People didn’t love as deeply or as earnestly as he seemed to, or at least wouldn’t admit to it. Especially not her and so he decided that she must truly hate him. There was no other possible explanation.

She snapped. She was sick of having to stroke his ego every time she saw him. And she told him this. The conversation turned ugly. Eventually, he asked her to leave, to never come back and hoping that she would plead with him to let her stay. The way he knew that he would had it been the other way round. He just needed her to show some kind of emotion, give him some kind of reaction. Something, anything that would give him hope.

He could remember it now, as if it was… well around three hours ago. He could see it playing out on a loop in his mind’s eye. Just how much she appeared to loathe him and clearly herself just for being with him. It hurt, a deep and devastating ache that ate him from the inside out.

“Oh fuck off!” he had shouted, kicking the nearest piece of furniture to him and splintering it in his frustration. He scanned her face, it was unmoving and set.

“Happily,” She said, shrugging and storming away. The crypt began to shake at the force she slammed the door shut behind her. 

“Bloody women!” He shouted, kicking the cupboard again for good measure.

I tried too hard and she tore my feelings like I had none. And ripped them away

It gets worse. He couldn’t leave it, despite shouting at her to leave him to rest in peace. He followed her out as she weaved between the gravestones. Trying to get her to come back to the crypt. Hopefully apologise in bed, the best way he knew how. But she was over it. She had gone colder, her eyes would have betrayed her though if he could bare to look in them.

“I thought you wanted me to fuck-off-and leave-you-alone-for-the-rest-of eternity or else?”

“Look, just stop, would you? I was angry, ‘cause you’re, well, you’re you and I’m… me”

“I’m not in the mood for riddles, Spike” She warned, as he sighed. He would have to do this. And now. He adored her. Needed her more than he had ever needed anything in his un-life.

“I love you, pet, always have” He insisted, taking her hand in his. She watched him for a minute, as if to discern if it was some kind of joke.

“You don’t love me, you… you don’t even know how. I think you’re right, we should keep a distance from each other. I can’t do this anymore. It’s shit.” She stated clearly. No emotion in her voice and Spike interpreted it in the most disastrous way possible. She didn’t care about him.

“Love-” He grabbed her arm desperately. Trying to pull her into him but she shrugged him off, looking ahead of her rather than at him.

“Bye Spike” she said, steely tone made him choke back a sob. As all of the past rejections he had faced mingled with the freshest one, which had become the deepest and most painful.

She was queen for about an hour. After that, shit got sour

All the good memories swam to the surface after she walked away, drowning all of the bad. Just to make the loss sting even more.

All the lazy mornings/evenings that they spent in bed together. Kissing and talking when she had time. The times they spent patrolling, laughing and working together to slay the demons. He loved the way she looked when she laughed, it made her face look so much brighter.

There were times where he had convinced her to stay at the Bronze when he arrived. They had danced, bodies pressed together in a way that felt natural. As if they were a proper couple. It had been fun, she had relaxed around him. Pressing a kiss against his lips on the busy dancefloor even though people she knew might have been there. They even played a few drinking games, leaving together to go to the crypt later to continue the fun.

But the good times never lasted. Some of the worse memories came back to the surface. They were very different people in some ways, they found themselves arguing fiercely, over anything. Just because one was in a bad mood and had taken it out on the other. They struggled to find anything to agree on during a bad day.

The way she would leave as soon as they finished up in bed always left him feeling like shit. Sometimes without a second glance at him as she got dressed and hurried out of the crypt. The look of shame that clouded her face when they were together, the way she blamed him for how she felt. She felt gross inside, lying to people and sleeping with someone that had tried to kill her more than once. She took all the love and care he had offered her and left him, lonely, in his crypt without a shred of reciprocation.

She took all I ever had. No sign of guilt

Not feeling bad, no

“She- she just treats me as if I’m nothing, barely looks at me on a good day” He sighed continuing his explanation of the recent events to the demon behind the bar, “Sees me as a monster, I can see it you know… the kind from her personal nightmares”

“Why don’t you move on, pal, huh? She’s not worth it” He offered as he cleaned down the counter.

“You don’t understand, she’s the love of my un-life”

“But you’re obviously not hers” He shrugged and realised he wasn’t helping when Spike stood up as if to fight the bar tender, who quickly surrendered and turned away to look busy.

He sat back down and nursed his drink, shaking his head and downing the rest before demanding another. He thought about it, he swore she felt the same sometimes. It wasn’t often she left her guard down but it was there. She enjoyed the sex, he knew that much. But he had hoped there was a deeper reason why she kept coming back for more.

They had laughed together at the beginning, shared things. Nothing too deep but you pick things up about another when you spend as much time as they did. Enough to love someone. Enough to make them your every thought.

But the way she reacted when he professed his love was nothing that he could have ever expected. She barely even blinked. She had taken his heart in her hands and crushed it into a fine powder. The kind that could never be pieced back together. The kind that couldn’t be retrieved or replicated by anyone else. He had a hole where his heart should be. His heart now lost somewhere with his soul, in the ether.

In a trap, trip I can't grip. Never thought I'd be the one who'd slip

By the time he left the bar in the early hours of the morning, he had convinced himself he didn’t care about her. Didn’t need her. She was cruel and cold and… the only person that had ever owned his heart in this way. The one person that made him feel alive again. Made him quiver with want. 

God, he couldn’t get over this in a night. He didn’t think he would ever get over it. He had fallen for her deep and he wished he hadn’t. He always did this, became love’s bitch. The fool that fell so deep without thought or reason. But never had he fallen as deep as this. He ached for her. Longed for her, in both sleep and wake.

It was meant to be a bit of fun. Shagging and sneaking around. Until, of course the inevitable happened. He should have known this would happen. Especially when he had suddenly been inspired to write poetry for the first time in several decades. But he had been oblivious, these feelings growing fast and strong.

He now felt as though he was caught up in a maze with no end in sight. A predicament he wasn’t always sure he wanted to escape. Stuck, loving her for eternity when she probably hadn’t thought twice about him since she walked away. Yet, he was all in. Even now, after everything. The constant arguments. Her lack of emotion. Her coldness.

Then I started to realize. I was livin' one big lie

As he staggered through the dark streets, he knew deep within that if she even gave him a moment of attention again, changed her mind and offered to come back to his crypt even now that he would say yes. He wouldn’t even stop to think.

Through the entire night, as he tried to convince himself and the bartender that he was over her, he was thinking about how he would give anything to be in bed with her again. To slog through the pain, the disgust or worse, that blank expressionless look that may flash across her face just for that sweet moment they may share briefly.

He knew she was annoyed. Mad. Tired of the constant arguments. The sneaking around. The lying she was doing to her friends. And she blamed him. For being this monster, just as he blamed himself. She made him wish his un-life away.

But the truth was, he would go through all of that again, just to be close to her. He would allow her to set him on fire. Stake him through the heart. He would bathe with her in holy water, just for a single moment by her side.

Trust, she fucking hates me…

#Spike btvs #Spike x reader #Spike x you #Spike imagine #Spike btvs x reader #btvs #btvs x you #btvs imagine #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #buffy summers #spike #buffy x spike #spuffy #if you squint? #female reader #Song Fic

[try-sea-staff-cause]

https://christine-708.mxtkh.fun/sz/eZ9Ldp5

#chris evans imagine #Eliza Ibarra #exercise #buffy the vampire slayer #rammstein #hard k1nk #illustrator #tony perry #max mayfield #mina ashido

[suddenly-conference-mrs]

#candidbubbles #curvy af #hyoyeon #jschlatt #sandra bullock #bum #diluc #feeling spicy #Everglow #the little mermaid #chris evans imagine #buffy the vampire slayer #hard k1nk

[tubesock86]

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

[evieelyzabethh]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐞𝐝

pairing(s): spike x demon!reader

summary: watching the man you love fawn over someone else is always hard, especially when you know you could love him better.

warnings: angst with a happy ending, later seasons Spike, soft Spike, the reader is a demon so old that no one knows your name and they call you Honey.

Spike was an actor, but William was a poet. This was easy to tell when watching Spike act as if he wasn't in love with Buffy. William would've written her a sonnet, presented her with a rose and some ridiculously expensive necklace. The image of a stone glittering around her neck would've inspired dozens of lines of prose, enough to keep her image alive in those fateful moments when she wasn't there to be looked upon. Spike looked. He watched. He stalked. It was his bad boy persona, the leather jacket hiding the heart that still beat out of his chest. Some things never changed.

This new apocalypse had changed something, though, that and the fact that Buffy had now come back from the dead a second time. You thought it would make her more formidable. A cockroach. Through apocalypse after apocalypse, thick and thin, even death, she was never really gone. Whether she was crawling, suffering, or drowning, she always came back. You liked Buffy, you were friends, or whatever she called the unhumans she hung around who wasn't dating her or one of her friends.

She kept you at an arms width ever since she found you back before her first death. In a bottle or a vase, something old and dusty that tipped over in the library and through smoke you materialized. You didn't remember much; you didn't remember anything. The collection of you took days, like assembling some million and one pieced puzzle. Pieces were lost along the way, Giles bet that somewhere between your brain being assembled and your bones hardening that your memory slipped through the cracks of the old hardwood flooring and was lost to the Hell Mouth beneath. He also said that if the memory was so heavy it sank, it wasn't worth remembering anyways.

This being said, it made since that she wasn't immediately open to letting you in and you were fine with that. You didn't know how to exist otherwise. Feelings were also lost on you, along with your name, and breathing, and speaking. You read a lot, after being placed in Giles' care, you only ever were in the school library or his personal library in his apartment, and being born again, you now had a broken vocabulary of unnatural and old English.

It was Willow who named you Honey. She told you hot tea helped with the healing vocal cords and that honey would hopefully act as a sticky cement so they would stay together. Lots of honey was what you consumed until your presence became synonymous with honey and then that became your name. Remembering to breath came soon after, it made your human company that much more relaxed around you. That and the fact that because you were so broken, you weren't deemed a threat.

Feelings came crashing after the fact.

Angelus' return took a toll on Buffy and Spikes appearance began your ascension. You had read classics before; Giles didn't exactly keep copies of Dr. Seuss or even Baum. It was all Bronte, Shelly, or Austen. Writers who taught you that humans love and to love is human and you didn't understand at all not until

"And who might you be, love?"

What are you wasn't the question and he called you "love". Could you be called love, was that something you could be. With how much honey you consumed, you probably were part honey, but even outside of that, when the humans introduce themselves, they say "I am..." so you said "I am Honey" to fit in.

But he called you Love.

You didn't doubt Willow, but you wondered if being Honey was a mistake, if being love was an option. To be love would mean to have love and how did one do that.

"I am Honey." you replied. 3 words that didn't even scratch the surface of what you wanted to say. Maybe speech was more lost on you than you thought.

A lot of time had passed since then. A few apocalypses, a more modern and appropriate speech pattern, plenty of feelings and more importantly, the knowledge that feelings couldn't be shared.

Being so far removed from everyone else made it easy to notice things that they didn't. You noticed her push him away. You had heard him confess. You had become friends after a while, and there were many moments when you would be in his crypt talking to him in between bottles of wine and blood, pigs' blood after he became aware of his feelings. He told you about her, he raved about her bravery, he retold her jokes. The affect she had on him was palpable, impossible to ignore. His lips spoke of Buffy, he cried tears that reflected Buffy, even when he looked at you, he was looking for pieces of Buffy. That was the only explanation for why he would look at you for so long. You weren't a genius, you weren't even a poet, but you knew better than to delude yourself. And yet

He looked at you.

He watched you. He saw you. He perceived you; and it was so beautiful.

He also told you of Dru. She would have moments of clarity when she would revert to the ghost of who she was before Angelus drove her insane. Moments when she would look at the stars, not because she was seeing things, but because she was looking at them. Like the haze of one thousand years had cleared and she was looking at the stars, not shiny shards of glass wedged in a rocky ceiling. She stopped echoing wishes, and she made them. He even told you her favorite wish. She wanted a pretty dress to go to a pretty ball. It was so normal and human. She wanted to exist and be a girl in her own time again, like it used to be. Maybe she also wanted to be human.

Sometimes, if you found the strength in you to stomach it, you liked to think he looked at you like how she used to look at the stars. Like Buffy was his pipe dream and you were what he really wanted.

It wasn't a stretch of the imagination. She was a slayer, and he was a vampire. She is a pipe dream. She was the false stars of shattered glass, she was dangerous to him, she would hurt him. She has hurt him.

Every time he told her he loved her, she told him no. A step worse than rejection, she denied he even could love her. Demons weren't capable of love; he was experiencing obsession. He wanted to own her, to take her, ravish her and leave her a husk of who she used to be then toss her when the infatuation faded. He didn't need to, she already was. Death did that to her, she didn't need Spike to finish the job. And obsession. If what Spike felt towards her was obsession, then what the hell was she feeling.

This all lead to today. An old show playing on the boxy television, sitting on a newly stolen couch, occasionally passing a bowl of popcorn between the two of you. The show was a cheesy vampire comedy where the main character had finally cornered the terrifying "Dracula" and staked him with a cartoonishly large stake. "Blood squirted everywhere, coating the main character with what was probably corn syrup, chocolate syrup, and red food dye.

"That is totally unrealistic. Us vampires don't bleed, and he would've seen that stake from a mile away." he said while tossing a handful of popcorn at the screen.

"I doubt they had a way to turn him to dust back in like the 40's." he scoffed at your nonchalance.

"This is ridiculous. Us vampires need better representation on the telly, they're makin' us look like bumbling idiots." you can' help but laugh at his dramatics. In his rage, his hair had fallen out of place. It wasn't gelled like it usually was, a mistake he'll probably rectify in a few hours when the sun goes down.

"I didn't know you took such pride in being a vampire." He dramatically jumps to face you, a disgusted look on his face.

"Of bloody course I do. Why on Earth would I want to be human."

"Maybe Buffy would like you if you were human." For anyone else it would've been a low blow, but he lets you slide. That and the fact that beneath the mocking tone you took, you didn't laugh at it all that much.

"Would you want to be human, love?" There it is again. You should be used to it by now, but you still every time you hear it from him. Maybe because when it comes from him you want it. You had been on dates with other guys, some of whom confessed to you. The Scoobies told you they loved you multiple times before, even better, they all meant it and the feeling is mutual. Why is it still so much different with him.

"I don't know, I think it could be nice. I think life would be easier." He smiled.

"Why? You're not a vampire, you can frolic in the sun as much as you'd like." you shake your head.

"That's not it." What could it be? Spike wasn't often confused, as a matter of fact he was extremely self-assured, but he couldn't figure out what you were missing out on. He'd much rather be in you position than to remember every sin he's ever committed. You got the immortality and the powers with none of the guilt that comes with it.

"If I was human, I wouldn't be nearly as confused. I'd know more, I guess."

"But what if you never lost your memory? Knowing things wouldn't be an issue." If only knowing your name was the knowledge you were seeking.

"Knowing things wouldn't be an issue but there are some uniquely human things I can't experience because I'm not a human."

"Like what?" Being human at one point was interesting, it was so ingrained in Spike he couldn't imagine what it would be like for feelings to not be second nature. He never needed to understand them, feeling them was more than enough.

"I don't know because I'm not human. I don't know what I'm missing, but I'm missing something." Quit beating around the bush.

"What if you didn't need to be human and it just fell out?"

"What is so bad about being human that it fell out."

"Trust me, as a former human myself, there is plenty to hate about being human. They're puny and pathetic." He pulled a pack of cigarettes from the couch along then struck a match against a loose plank of wood. Bringing it to his lips, he inhaled the smoke and blew it away from your face, but the breeze from an open (broken) window whisked it towards your face anyway.

"But is that because you were human, or because you are you?" His gaze hardened at how quick the answer came.

"You think I was pathetic?" The fallen embers came onto his pants, but he paid them no mind.

"You think you used to be pathetic." Though this was true, a part of him felt offended. Even stranger, he didn't know which part.

"Because I was. I was human and emotional and a bloody mess, because I was human. Demons don't feel anything which is far better than feeling and getting hurt."

"But you aren't demon enough to know what it means to feel nothing!" You weren't a demon to him, though. It would've been easy for him to forget that you weren't one of those pesky humans had it not been for your distinctly not human scent. It was like whisky, rich and old and expensive. Too expensive to break open and drink because it grew more valuable with time. He'd do anything for you not to go to waste.

"And if you want to feel so badly, you can't possibly be that much of a demon!" To waste you would for you to be human. They're too fragile. They die. Spike longed to be a demon because at his core, he was a coward. He didn't want to die. Judging by how much you yearned to be human, you feared loneliness more.

"Why do you love Buffy so much." Ah, the point.

Spike was many things. A bastard, one of those British nancy boys, a coward, a freak. A thing he prided himself the most on was his intellect. He was insightful, he could be emotionally intelligent when he wanted to be. This was the important part.

A part of him knew his best friend loved him. A part he profusely ignored because he was only emotionally intelligent when he wanted to be. He could admit that he was intellectual and intelligent and at times wise, he believed those to be self-evident truths, cornerstones of his Spikeism. He's the brooding, yet insightful, bad boy with a heart of gold who does the right thing when it conveniences him. He's an actor and this was the character he's had centuries to build, and he'd be damned it cracked because then he'd be proving that he was never anything more than William "The Bloody Bad Poet".

Maybe self-hatred was the root of it. The inescapable need- no instinct, to kick himself in the ass at any possible opportunity, was why he ignored you. It had to be some sick penchant for pain, or the belief that he wasn't deserving of good things, because if you were nothing else, you were good to him which meant you deserved better than him.

But altruism doesn't fit into the paradigm of Spike. Altruism is William's thing which made this so much more horrifying. William loved you. Spike loving you meant nothing because he didn't really mean it. The stage kisses and the dramatized sex scenes were suffocatingly filled with false passion, more passion than humanly possible. Spike loved hard, William loved deeply, and both loved you. It couldn't be undone, but it could be forgotten.

"I don't know." Those 3 words didn't even begin to scratch the surface of why he "loved" her.

"But all I know of love comes from you, I learned it from you, and you don't know why you love her?" You wanted to cry, and you hated it. If you could take it back, you would. You wished you had shut your mouth and watched the stupid show that was still playing as you had this argument.

"Love isn't something you explain." He put distance between the two of you, standing up and walking away from the couch in search for a bottle of alcohol. He wasn't planning on you following him, following closer than the tail of his leather duster.

You threw the alcohol before his hand even grazed it, smashing it against the concrete walls of his crypt. Positioning yourself between himself and the makeshift table that used to be a grave, you stood your ground. Blinking back tears because the second water hit that cement you were done for.

"Then show me. That's how I learned before." He clenched then unclenched his jaw. Buffy was all over him, but you were inside of him. The air he breathed, the blood in his veins, the force making his heart beat was you and it always had been. "Show me."

He was scared.

"What if you don't understand." He was stalling. For too long he hadn't been allowed to have anything. Dru was never his because Angelus had ingrained his way into her very being. Buffy was never realistic, and even if she was, she was human. One day she'd die, and he'd move on long before that date anyways. You were so attainable, and you were willing to be his. What if he fucked up. He has, right in front of him, sharing breaths mere inches from each other, everything he had ever wanted, and he didn't even have to fight for it. Handed to him on a silver platter was the key to the universe, but he could find a way to fuck it up. He always did.

"You don't know that." He held your head in his hands, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. His world in the palm of his hands. What if he dropped it.

"You love me?"

"I didn't even know what love was before I met you." You whispered it and he shattered. He kissed you, as if he could pull the sound from your lips so that your confession him that could replay forever in his mind. Like he was sealing some sort of promise so you couldn't take it back.

"I love you." He said in between kisses. "I love you so much it hurts." He kissed you on the forehead." I love you so much it makes me feel alive again." He kissed you on your right cheek, "Longed for you like the sun and cherished you like the stars, I love you.", then on the left.

He looked you in the eyes before kissing you again. As if he wouldn't be there to say it again, as if you could somehow forget it, he said it once more.

"I love you."

#spike btvs #spike btvs x reader #buffy the vampire slayer fanfic #spike x reader #buffy the vampire slayer imagine #btvs imagine #btvs x reader #spike btvs imagine #spike btvs fanfiction #buffy the vampire slayer fanfiction

[specialagentlokitty]

Spike x reader - before I laid eyes on you

Sitting under the street lamp, you smiled to yourself as you pulled the pen away from the notebook you were drawing in.

You had been at it for a couple of hours, your wrist hurt a little bit, but since you hadn’t had a break that was to be expected.

What wasn’t to be expected was the sense you had from behind you that there was somebody creeping up on you.

“Hello.”

You heard whoever it was stop.

“How did you know I was there?”

“I know many things, just like I know who you are Spike, I know you’re here to kill me.”

Spike walked around the bench, and he sat down in next to you, leaning back as he lit a cigarette, resting an arm on the back of the bench.

You didn’t look at him, you simply just went back drawing in your notebook.

“You’re not even going to run away? You know that does take all the fun out of killing you pet.”

“I know I would never stand a chance trying to run from you.”

He hummed, nodding his head as he smirked a little bit.

“Is that so?”

He glanced down at the notebook, leaning over to look at what you were doing and you covered it.

Reaching up you placed a finger on his forehead and pushed him back.

“Oi, don’t touch the merchandise.”

“It’s not ready yet, if you want to look you have to wait.”

He huffed a little, and you smiled, going back to your drawing.

“Is this a trap? Am I being set up?”

You shook your head.

“No, they don’t even know I’m out. It’s the only time I can find time. Plus, if it were a trap I’d be an easy hostage so I don’t see any situation in how you can’t win.”

He smirked a little again, nodding his head in agreement.

You glanced up at the building in front of you, studying the design, the structure, the colours.

Looking back at your notebook you carried on, hands moving on their own, as if you had drawn this exact building a million times, burned in your brain.

Spike watched you intrigued.

You made no effort to run away from him, no effort to scream or fight or try save your life in any kind of way.

It made him curious, and it took all the fun out of him wanting to kill you because for him it was all a game, the thrill of the chase, an instinct all hunters had, but you didn’t seem to have the instinct to flee.

You put your put your pen into your bag, and you slowly tore the page from book, and you set it on the bench.

“So, you made me pause my killing so you were able to finish a drawing?” He scoffed.

He picked it up, and he studied it.

It looked so real, as if you had picked up the building from the street and crammed it into the tiny page of a book.

“Intriguing, I wonder if you’ll want to draw what it will look like when I snap your neck.”

He looked up and you were gone.

“What the hell?”

Spike stood up, trying to find any sign that you were somewhere still around, or that you had even been there but there was none aside from the paper in his hands.

Spike flicked his cigarette across the e street and he began to walk up to the building.

You really hadn’t missed a spot of detail when you were drawing it, everything was there, from small cracks in some of the windows to the emblem at the front of the building.

That wasn’t the first time Spike met you, but it was the first time he was intrigued by you, and not in a way that made him want to kill you.

He noticed that when the he was fighting with Buffy or the others you weren’t there.

They made sure to keep you as far away as possible, but then as the nights came he would find you accidentally around the town.

He would just be on the hunt and he would stumble across you just sitting there, in your own little world as you drew something new and his attention would be focused on you.

And tonight was no different, he found you sitting at a table outside some late open cafe, a cup of coffee in front of you, your notebook on the table as you looked around.

Spike slipped into the seat in front of you.

“Hello love.”

“Should I be concerned for the amount of times you come to visit me?” You asked.

“Well, you should know better than wonder alone at night, especially in a town like this. Never know when a big bad will jump at you.”

You gave a small shrug, pulling your scarf a little tighter around you.

Spike watched intensely, and he leant back in his chair.

“Well, you seem to appear most nights, yet you still haven’t killed me.”

“I will one day, after all, it’s no fun if I kill you right away.”

You let out a soft laugh, picking up your cup so you could take a drink, then your turned your attention back to your drawing so you could finish it.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked.

“Depends on the question.”

Spike took your cup so he could drink some coffee and he set it back down, picking up the menu to browse the boring food.

“Why won’t you kill me?”

Spike looked up at you, slowly setting the menu back down.

“Do you want me to kill you?”

He didn’t say it with excitement, you could hear the curiosity in his tone, along with confusion.

“If I ask you to would you?”

“Maybe, might sire you, that could be fun.”

You shook your head at him.

“No sire, just pure death. As in nothing after, I won’t wake up again.”

“Now talk like this concerns a bloke love.”

You sighed, shaking your head.

Ripping the page from the book you handed it over to him and stood up, finishing your coffee before you began to make your leave.

Spike quickly got up, catching up to you in a few long strides and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“Ah, ah, you’re not running off that easily. You can’t just say something like that and not expect follow up questions.”

“Please Spike, I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine.”

You carried on walking and Spike followed you, not saying a single word he simply just looked at you every so often.

Truth be told he would have killed you the first chance he got, now he didn’t want to, even if he could that thought never crossed his mind, but you didn’t need to know that, or about the chip.

You just had to think he was the same big bad.

“I’m not quite sure that was an invitation for you to follow me.” You said.

“I don’t need an invitation.”

You hummed a little bit, clasping your hands behind you as you turned around to look at him.

You smiled softly, walking backwards and he rose a brow at you.

“You can only go so far.”

“I can be rather convincing if I do say so myself, I’m sure I can convince your parents to invite me in.”

“You could try, that might be a bit hard if you live alone.”

Walking up to your house, you opened the door and stepped inside, grinning at Spike as he stood outside.

He wore an unamused look on his face, watching as you sat down on the stairs.

“Now that just isn’t fair love, don’t I get an invite?”

“Hm, I don’t think so. You’re nice company outside but at least u know I can just leave you at the door.”

He placed a hand on his chest, leaning on the doorframe.

“Ouch, now that hurts love.”

You smiled softly, and Spike looked around the hallway, all framed paintings and pictures that looked exactly like the ones you did.

You got up, turning the light on so he could see better, and it worked.

He could see better, a lot better

Now you were out of the dim streetlights, into some bright light that actually illuminated things Spike could see you better.

He could see you clearly.

“You’re blind..” he said quietly.

You smiled weakly, nodding your head as you walked back over to the steps to sit down.

“Not fully, mostly. I can still see a bit, my eyes are sensitive to the light, but I found a few spells that can help me navigate around.”

“A witch?”

“Yeah.”

Spike looked at you, it wasn’t obvious to anybody that you were blind, but he could see the blank look in your eyes, you looked at him but you didn’t.

He would’ve thought maybe you were just awkward at eye contact, but he could see it, the faint gloss that covered the outside of your iris, slowly creeping.

There was something else.

A sickly paleness to your skin.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked.

You sighed, resting your head on the wall behind you, and you looked over at the open door.

Spike was sat in your doorway, in his hands the new picture you had made of a deer, and it was so lifelike just like all the others.

“Cancer, in the brain, the uh.. the blindness might be a side effect of the tumour but they can’t be sure.”

“What do you think?”

“Maybe it’s making it worse yes, but I’ve always had problems with my eyes, ever since I was a child. Either way I’ll go blind.”

Spike nodded his head, looking up from the drawing.

You still held a small smile on your face.

“Do they know?” He asked.

Your smile a little.

“No. Spike you can’t tell them, they don’t need to know. Not with everything going on with you know.. well.. you… demons..”

“Right, right. It would put a damper on everything considering they think I’m just missing.”

You nodded.

A small silence fell over the pair of you.

“How long?”

You said nothing.

“How long do you have?”

You let out a heavy sigh.

“I don’t know, I’ve been offered surgery to try remove the tumours.”

“Have you accepted?”

“No.”

Spike stood up, slamming his hand on the doorway.

“Well why the bloody hell not?!”

“Either it works, and I still go blind, I die on that operating table, or I die of cancer. All three sound like rather poor choices.”

“But there’s a chance you could survive, you said it yourself you found a way to make it more bearable with the blindness.”

You walked over, sitting against the door and he sat back against the frame on the otherside looking at you.

“It will most likely come back.”

“Then.. then they cut it out again, they keep doing that.”

“Spike, they can only do it so many times before they stop.”

He furrowed his brows, eyes staring into yours.

“You’ll still die…”

“Yeah.”

He put the drawing in to his pocket, and he rested his head against the wood.

“That’s why you asked if I would kill you. Because you don’t want to die to the tumour, at least if I did it you would have control in your death.”

You nodded your head, and a soft smile gracing your face once more.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of the cool breeze coming through the door.

“Very well.”

You opened your eyes.

“I will do it under one condition.”

You titled your head a little.

“What’s that?”

“You agree to the procedure, if it fails then you hang on for as long as possible, then when the time is right you ask and I will give you a quick and painless death.”

“No resurrection?”

“None, just death.”

You agreed to his terms, and the following day you went back to the hospital to speak to your doctor about the procedure.

Spike was there, lurking in the hallways away from the sunlight, and when the door to your room was opened he stepped aside and waited.

You closed the blinds and he walked in, closing the door behind him.

“Well?”

“They ran some tests, they need to take it out now, and I’ll be hospital bound for a while.”

“Right, you should call your friends. In the event that you die of course.”

You laughed weakly.

“The doctor is doing it, I guess that means I won’t be seeing you around huh?”

Spike sat on the edge of your bed.

“I’ll be around.”

You smiled, and reached up, gently touching the side of his face and he said nothing about it.

You could tell his was smiling though, from the little crinkles at the corner of his eye.

“Thank you.”

Spike got up, leaning forward he pressed his lips to your forehead and took a step back.

“Good luck love..”

With that he was gone.

He hasn’t told you about the chip in his head, that even if he wanted too he wasn’t able to hurt you, but he definitely didn’t want to hurt you.

He couldn’t hurt you, it would hurt him, but if it came down to it and it was what you wanted then no amount of pain in his skull would stop him from granting you that wish

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