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itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland · 14 days

Text

Hope (Spike x y/n)

Requested: No

TW: none

Word count: 2.3k

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He felt horrible. Destroyed. Lesser than what he wanted to be. He continued to hurt himself by making bad choices. Choices that he knew were detrimental to him. Never good enough for others, he was doomed to not be good enough for himself.

Spike walked the cemetery looking for trouble. A vampire or demon to entertain him, that’s all he needed. Soon he would find no one to entertain his self-destruction.

"Bloody slayer, doin' her job.” He moped at the loss of companionship.

He desperately wanted to visit y/n but he knew he had no business there. She wanted to rest and he wanted to not be reminded of his worthlessness. If only he was enough or more, he could prove to her that he deserved to be by her side. To be hers. However, he still craves violence and destruction. He reminds himself that if the chip wasn't in place that he would choose to kill for fun. And she knew that, which made him lesser than what she deserved.

He hoped Buffy was hurt or low so that she could take her frustration out on him. Make him feel the pain. The only thing that he deserved.

He continues to wander and ends up in town looking for something to do. What can a chipped vampire do in a hellmouth? He hates it when he finds himself walking down y/n's street. He was attracted to her like a moth to a flame. He gave in and gave up. If Buffy brought him pain, y/n brought him peace. Even when he didn't deserve it, he craved it.

As he walks up to y/n's house his attention is caught by the overwhelming stench of werewolf. Again, she was seeing that damned werewolf. What did she see in him? Why did she choose him, when Spike was right there, ready, and willing? He can hear the rustle of bedsheets from the open window. Lustful sighs and laughter. All things that he will never have.

He waited outside on the porch. Heated. Angry. Hurt. He was going to catch this werewolf and... what? Hurt him? Threaten him? In every scenario y/n would scold him. But he didn't give a damn. He was blinded by passion and revenge.

Hours passed but he waited patiently until the front door opened. It was Matteo. Spike's blood boiled but he stood, frozen, speechless. He simply gave Matteo a head nod as Matteo walked away from the house. Spike caught the door before it closed. He refused to knock to let y/n know he was there. He wanted to catch her red handed, satiated and vulnerable. All the feelings that he wanted to make her feel.

He walked into your bedroom and sat on the bed. The scene of the crime. You were showering so he waited. When you came out in a towel you gasped.

"Spike!"

"Somethin' wrong, love?" He played it cool.

He could sense her nervousness. He breathed in her panic.

"What are you doing here? I didn't hear you knock." You scrambled to get clothes.

"That's cause I didn' knock."

You stand there in a towel, clothes in hand. You decide it’s best to go back to the bathroom to change. Spike is aware of your dilemma.

"Don't let me stop you." He grins.

"Just turn around." You sigh giving up.

He does as you ask. He feels giddy knowing that your naked body was mere feet away from him. How he longed to look. But he was a gentleman and respected your wishes.

"Done" he turns back around.

"Havin' fun, are we?"

You stammer looking for the right answer. "A girl has needs."

He stood up and moved faster than you expected. He put his hand on your hip and pulled you to him. Bodies flushed together. You could feel every inch of him. His other hand trailed your face with the back of his hand.

"If your needs were bein’ neglected, why didn' you come to me?" He was feeling bold, brash.

You forget to breathe. Your head is spinning. You remind yourself to take it slow. To think before reacting, but your body betrays you and your thoughts go haywire.

You wrap your arms around his neck, settling into his hold. Feeling the comfort of his body.

"You know why..." was all you said. It was enough for Spike to falter, to almost loosen his grip. He steadies himself and holds you tighter, hoping you feel his resolve.

"It could be different." He tries.

"We're too far apart." You hold your ground.

"Let's close the gap, then." He insists.

You both stay as you are, staring into each other’s eyes. Fighting a lost battle. Too much is at stake and there's not enough space for mistakes.

His eyes beg you to reconsider, but your resolve never waivers. He has so much to say but not enough words. How to ask for you to choose him when he couldn't even choose himself?

"What would it take?" He was determined.

You faltered. What would it take? You hold your silence, mulling the question over. Spike grew impatient, afraid.

Spike sighs, defeated. He lets go of your body, putting distance between you two.

You stand there in ruins. You could have it all but at what cost. You were not meant to be loved. And he wasn't mean to be good. If these two situations were to dissipate, the difference it would make. You wondered if this change would bring you peace and break the curse. You didn't dare entertain the idea.

You both stood silent, waiting for the other to speak first. The seconds felt like hours.

"Want to dance?" You cave.

He looks up at you. He wondered if that was all you were capable of giving him. He wonders if that was all he could have. He assents.

You find a slow song playlist. Something smooth and personal.

"No waltz tonight, pet?" He smiles softly.

You shake your head. You wanted him to hold you.

You lay your head on his chest, while he wraps his arms around you. The proximity was killing him. He has you so close and yet you were so far away from his grasp.

The music plays softly as your bodies sway. Spike makes sure to memorize every second of your time together. He may not have you forever but he has you right now, and that is pure bliss.

A knock is heard on the bedroom door. You both are startled but don't break contact.

Matteo stood at the doorway, annoyed. At the sight of him you let go of Spike and straighten yourself. Spike smiles smugly at him.

"Matteo... what's wrong?"

"I left my phone." He points to it on your nightstand.

You stand there as he gets his phone, walking past Spike who refused to move. You swear you hear Matteo growl lowly, but you brush it off.

"Sorry to interrupt." He squares up to Spike and walks out of the room.

You palm your face out of embarrassment.

"What's wrong with your boyfriend?" Spike asks, still smug.

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Sorry, your lover." Spike spoke the last word through gritted teeth.

"Not that either." You busy yourself by making the bed.

"What would you call him, then?" He laid down on the bed impeding you from completing your task.

You sigh in frustration, "what do you call Buffy?" You bite back.

"By her name." He smiles his shit eating grin.

You look at him. You remind yourself to breathe. This man was going to be the end of you on so many levels. You walk out of the room into the kitchen. He follows you to the kitchen.

"Worked ourselves an appetite, did we?" Spike was still grinning, sitting on your counter.

You turn to him thinking of ways to shut him up, to catch him off guard. The only thought in your head was how badly you wanted to taste his words, to kiss him senseless. That, in itself, would bring more trouble and confusion than just sending him away. You're passion quickly turns bitter as you remember his choices.

"Don't you have a slayer to take care of?" You insinuate.

"That's why I’m here." Spike is feeling flirty and needy. Tonight was not a night for Buffy. Tonight he had to prove that he was the only one in y/n's life. Tonight, Matteo had your body but Spike had your heart.

You sigh. "I can't keep doing this with you." You turn to him, defeated.

He's caught off guard by your confession. He stutters and fails to find something to say. What did you mean by that? Was this you pushing him away? Anger bubbles in his stomach.

"But you can with that werewolf?" Spike said venomously.

"I already told you, he's a distraction. Just like the others, he has an expiration date."

"Others?!" Spike raises his voice.

"What do you want from me? I have needs. I can't just settle down. Not while I’m cursed."

"Am I not good enough? Am I too beneath you?" Spike was closer to you, closing the gap.

"What? No. It's just... you're different." You waiver.

"Different. You mean evil."

You raise your chin in defiance. Who was he to be questioning your choices.

"You're being quite bold for someone who is openly fucking someone else."

He's incredulous.

"You want something with me but not enough to let Buffy go. You don't want me. You want what you can't have." You spit out, angry and hurt.

"Is that what you think? That I’m only here because you're unreachable?"

"Why else would you not commit? Why else would you play with me, make me feel?"

He scoffs. In some level she was right. He couldn't let go of Buffy. He needed the punishment, the constant reminder he was only dirt. But he craved y/n because she brought him hope. He needed to feel the light even when he hadn’t earned it. But he wasn't ready to admit all of this to himself. He wanted to be selfish. To move through two worlds, to be balanced. To feel.

"I've heard enough." He states.

"So, what now?" You were determined, you needed closure.

"Keep your werewolf. Live in your fantasy. You want to find peace so bad but you're too busy escaping what you have." He told the truth, unafraid of the repercussions.

Before you could provide a rebuttal he stepped away and went for the door.

"You want to feel something so bad but you're too busy punishing yourself." You yelled after him, wanting the last word.

You hear the door slam. He's gone. You feel tears roll down your face. A thousand years and you had never cried for man. You stand there feeling sorry for yourself. Hating how things ended.

Spike storms down to his crypt. Angry and hurt. He made the first move, and he was shot down. What else did he think was going to happen? He wanted to be bold and flirty in the hopes you would reciprocate but it blew up in his face, just like he deserved. Pain through Buffy and pain through y/n, just desserts. He knew better but he needed something, anything to hold onto hope. This just proved that he wasn't good enough. He didn't deserve the light, the hope, the love. At least, not as he is now. Soulless and evil. He is reminded that the chip was the only thing keeping him in your world. He could never be the key to your curse but he wanted to be your respite, your companion. He dreamed of that much. He was but half a man and half a vampire. He craved to be whole but that would mean a sacrifice.

He enters his crypt in a haste. He quickly picks up after himself, determined to leave and find what he’s looking for. Buffy busts through the door. Focused and wanting. She throws herself on Spike. Rough kisses and wandering hands. Spike is unresponsive, holding his ground. He feared the repercussions of his choice, but if he wanted more for himself he would have to sacrifice immediate gratification.

"What?" Buffy spit out disdainfully.

"Not tonight, love." He pries himself from her grasp.

He fears a fight will break out. He is ready to endure her rage.

Enraged, she pushes him away. “What? Too caught up on y/n?

He’s taken aback. He refuses to answer. Buffy gets closer, menacingly.

“You keep dreaming of her as if you deserved her. You’re nothing to her, like you’re nothing to me.”

Spike stands his ground, tears burning in his eyes.

Buffy gives up and walks away. "Don't expect me to come back."

Buffy exits the crypt leaving Spike alone with his thoughts. He is glad that there was no physical altercation but can’t help but feel beat down and bruised.

"Fuck..." he mumbled under his breath.

Alone by force and alone by choice. He felt like he couldn’t catch a break. So many thoughts and none conducive to an answer or solution. Spike stood frozen, afraid. He knew what would get him to the person of his desire. However, was he strong enough to conquer his own demons? Was he strong enough to become who he wanted to be? He pondered this as he wrote a quick note to y/n. He needed answers. He needed to re-inhabit his body. No more dancing on the edge of pain and punishment. No more lust and violence. If he wanted an answer from you, the answer he craved, he had to give up the chains that kept him drowning in an ocean of despair.

He got on his motorcycle and drove to your house. He dropped off the note in your mailbox and drove off.

He hoped that you would read the note. He hoped you would wait for him. He hoped.

#buffy the vampire slayer #william the bloody #btvs #spike #spike btvs #buffyverse #spike the bloody #spike x y/n #spike x yn #spike x reader #spike x you

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itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland · 26 days

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Master list

Hey cuties, I've decided to make a master list of the fics that I've written. I'll update it as I add new ones. I put them in the order they should be read, if you want it to be a multific saga, but they can all be read as stand alone pieces.

Have fun!

Paid In Lies

Smooth Operator

Dance With Me

Waves

Not Yet

Choosing Peace

Hope

#spike btvs #buffy x spike #spike #buffy the vampire slayer #buffyverse #spike x yn #spike x y/n #spike x reader #spike x you #Spike the bloody #William the bloody #William Pratt #btvs #spike imagine

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itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland · 28 days

Text

Choosing peace (Spike x y/n)

Requested: no

TW: Some steamy not graphic scenes.

Word count: 1.9k

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You were out of breath caught in the throes of love making. Sensual yet rough. Matteo, your new -for now- love. His rough hands trailed your body memorizing every curve, dip and valley. You let him take you, no reservations. His body and mind are all yours for the taking. You reminded yourself to breathe as the tight coil in your womb released. You held onto him for dear life. He released soon after. You both lay in bed, comfortable and satisfied.

Matteo had come into your life out of nowhere. A young werewolf in his early 30s. No commitment just hot sex and release. You kept your situationship under wraps, careful to not get too involved or let others know. The connection had been recent. Born out of need and loneliness. He understood and enjoyed the freedom of it.

"Thank you, it was amazing." You broke the silence.

He chuckled, " you don't have to thank me every time we do this."

"Oh, I do. You could always say no, but you're always down to bump uglies."

"Don't call it that!" He groaned.

He held you for a while. Silently hoping to stay the night. However, he knew the drill. He slowly got up and dressed. No commitment, no staying the night, and no sharing of what transpired. He kissed you one last time and exited your house.

You laid there basking in the feeling, in your release. You came to terms with the fact that you would never find the one, so there was no use in trying to seek him out. You harbored feelings for many, like Spike, but nothing ever comes to fruition. Matteo served as a respite from reality. You could tell he wanted more, but you aren’t able to give him that. You’re too broken to be whole with someone else. You do wish that there were more tender moments. Moments where you felt truly loved. But that’s the problem with playing pretend, it usually stops being a game after a while.

You get up and head to the bathroom. You're stopped in your tracks as you hear a knock. Spike. You get dressed quickly and head to the door. You greet him with a smile.

"Good evenin'" He pretends to tip an imaginary hat.

"You're early" you say nervously.

"Got bored, thought we could start early."

He enters the house. As he walks by you his face contorts. The smell of werewolf fills his nostrils. He hates it. He turns to you so slightly, catches you darting your eyes. You're hiding something.

"What you been up to?" His eyes burn holes into your face.

"Nothing really. Just hanging around." You lied.

He debates on whether to press you or not. He was afraid of what your answer might be.

"Nothing, eh? Pet, I can tell when you're lying." He risked it.

"Um... I had a friend over. Just to chat." You lie again.

He becomes frustrated with your lying. Something's going on and you're not willing to spill the beans.

He grunts, "I guess that's the game we're playing, huh."

You fiddle with your hands and look down. "I don't want to talk about it." You raise your head defiantly, "Plus, you don't tell me everything, why should I?"

He clicks his tongue in annoyance. "I see. We're really doubling down on the secrets?"

You walk past him into your room to get your weapons. "Are we doing this thing or not?"

He follows you into your room not ready to let the topic go. He is instantly blown away from the intermingled scent of you and the werewolf. It's clear what you're hiding. He is sick to his stomach. Is this how you felt when you found out about him and Buffy?

"Let's get it over with." He said through gritted teeth.

You pause. You slowly turning to him. "You don't have to if you don't want to." You say quietly.

He felt a squeeze in his undead heart. He couldn't stand it when you acted like this, so small and vulnerable. As if he had rejected you, pushed you away. He hated what he was smelling but he couldn't stay away from you. The werewolf might have you for a moment but he had you for the whole night, every night.

He walked up to you and grabbed your hands. "I want to be here. I just don't like it when you lie to me." He matched your energy.

You sigh, “I can't really tell you much. I want to keep this for myself. If I don't talk about it, it stays where it's at and not in the light."

He mulled your words over. It made sense. Buffy was the same way. What was it with these slayers and their desire to hide their passions?

"I understand."

You both stood there for what seemed an eternity, looking into each other's eyes. An unspoken promise being shared. Still holding his hand, you guide him out of your room and out of the house.

"Come on, we have work to do."

As you walk to the woods you notice that your hand is still entwined with his. Even in this small act of affection it felt like home. You become self-conscious and try to let go of his hand, but he holds on tight.

"What, pet? Getting nervous?" He raises your hand to his lips. He ghosts kisses on the back of your hand. Your heart beats faster.

You chuckle. "No. I don't want Buffy getting the wrong idea." You dig in deep, reminding him of his choices where he picked her over you.

"She doesn't have to know." He's feeling defiant, jealous of the werewolf. He needed to make space for himself in your world.

A shiver runs down your spine as you make eye contact. This is wrong and you know it. Spike, your home and peace was never to be yours. You lived cursed and that is all you'll ever be and ever have.

You snatch your hand back. He pouts. You look up to see Buffy. You hoped she hadn't seen the affection you were sharing with Spike, her pet.

"Glad you could join us." Buffy said through gritted teeth.

"This job take 2 slayers, I guess." You respond paying no mind to the shift in her mood.

Spike is visibly uncomfortable with the pairing. He wanted to make a snarky remark but was afraid of upsetting either slayer. He knew that Buffy and y/n were on good terms but there seemed to be tension tonight. Something that they all knew but no one said. Like fighting for the last slice of pizza. Who's more hungry? And was it worth sharing?

You and Buffy bring Spike up to speed on your plan. The focus of tonight was to break a ring of bandits that were comprised of demons and vampires. You all head over to the bar where they were. Buffy is quick to jump into action, she was clearly working off some steam. You follow suit afraid for Buffy's safety. Spike is focused on not letting anyone escape. Between vampires being made into dust and demons being decapitated the plan was a hit. No more ring of bandits.

As you three walked back there was Awkward silence. None of you dared to speak up first. Being the bigger person, you decide to speak up but were interrupted by Buffy.

"Spike, I need to talk to you later." She said not making eye contact with anyone.

You bit the inside of your cheek waiting for his response. Making him choose was cruel and you hated it for him.

"Sounds serious. Spike, you can go with Buffy. I'll be okay walking home." You concede.

Spike snorts, "No can do, love. I told you; you don't go out without me."

Buffy quickly glares at Spike. She hides her anger. "Fine. I'll talk to you later." She holds back a snide comment and saunters off.

"What's gotten into her?" Spike acts innocent.

You give him a knowing look. You both head back to your place. Silence abounds once more.

"She's gonna make you pay for this." You whisper.

Spike clicks his tongue, "I ain't no Nancy boy. I can handle it."

You've seen the bruises she has left on him. You worried but he always reassured you that it was consensual.

You both reach your house, and you invite him in. He declines. You both stand there on your porch afraid to speak, afraid to end the night.

Spike clears his throat. "You don't have to feel ashamed of shagging the werewolf."

Your eyes widen at his bold statement.

"We all do what we got to do to feel loved." He says unabashedly.

You mull his words over. "It's not love I seek. It's peace." You pause before mirroring his bold statements. "And... he may not be who I want," you make sure to make eye contact, "but he's who I can have."

Spike swallows hard. If only for this moment he can feel heat rising through his body. He never wanted anything, anyone, so much but he knew better. She wasn't meant for a man like him. And no matter what he did, all he deserved was pain. He could never be her peace. Not as he was now.

Spike leaned in, hoping for something, anything. His lips almost ghosted over hers. He looked attentively into her eyes seeking, wanting, a sign. Time stood still as he played this dangerous game.

You took a deep breath, breathing him in. Savoring the closeness. You decide to take his hand and bring it to your lips. You give the back of hind hand a soft kiss. An invitation. A promise.

Spike smirks and leans away from you. "Good night, pet." He walks off into the night towards the cemetery.

As soon as he is out if your sight he starts running. He is pent up, angry, and disappointed in himself. He needs release. He needs to be numb. He knows that Buffy will be waiting for him to either have intercourse with him or hurt him. Which both were fine for him tonight.

He finds her waiting at his mausoleum. Anxious and angry.

"A bit presumptuous to think I'd come back for you." He smirks, hiding his own need for contact.

She swings and connects with his jaw. He basks in the pain.

"Is that all you got?" He wipes at his now bloody lip.

She lunges at him and punches him again. Punishing for choosing y/n over her. He laughs while he is being pummeled. He believes this is what he deserves for daring to choose happiness. She leans close and kisses him, feral and wild. He reciprocated. They tumble into his home, the tomb where he chooses to die a little bit every time he gives into Buffy.

She is rough and demanding, not giving him a chance to provide direction or boundaries. She is focused on getting her needs met. She wants to remind him that he is no better than what she uses him for. And he basks in it. He drowns in another night of self-loathing and self-mutilation. He does not deserve more than that. And if he dares to dream of more, he knows that Buffy will always remind him that he is no more than the dirt that dirties those who touch him.

The night is over, and Spike is spent. Buffy is long gone, and he is left with a mess. A mess in his home and a mess in his heart. He wonders if y/n holds her precious werewolf in the aftermath. He wonders what it would be like to give her aftercare. He wonders and wonders to no avail. He lays there naked, torn and lonely. Another night where he chose destruction over peace.

#spike x yn #spike x y/n #spike x reader #spike x you #spike the bloody #spike btvs #william the bloody #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #spike imagine #buffyverse #spuffy

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itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland · 1 month

Text

Not Yet (Spike x Y/N)

Requested: nope

TW: Mentions of alcohol and drinking. Mentions of rough s e x.

Word count: 1.7k

Previous | Next

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If his body wasn't cold, steam would be rolling off it. Kiss after kiss. Grope after grope. Spike couldn't get enough. He knew it was wrong. He knew it wasn't real, but he needed it. Buffy was rough and demanding in her lovemaking, if you could call it that. She threw Spike around as if boneless and limp. She focused on meeting her needs without regard to Spike or his feelings. Spike held on and let himself be dominated. Even for a moment, he felt loved.

After Buffy has had her fill, she leaves Spike spent and tired. He knew she would return later this week. He knew it wasn't the touch that he craved, but it was the touch he deserved. Though a hopeless romantic, he couldn't fathom real love. He was immersed in a world of pain and destruction, and that is all he deserved. Unless... it was with y/n. With her time stopped. He was whole. A man. With her, there was partnership and laughter. With her, there was something he didn't deserve but desperately craved.

He got dressed and ready to pick her up. It was just another night of hunting. Buffy and Y/n decided to divide and conquer instead of working together. Buffy kills vampires, and y/n kills demons. Their decision to go their separate ways meant that Spike had to make time for both, being degraded and then being valued. Honestly, he preferred the latter.

He strolled down to y/n's house, ready to be by her side. He wanted to enjoy her scent, her presence, and her kindness. He promised to knock on the door instead of barging in, so he complies. Two knocks, and he waits.

You open the door, greeting him in your bathrobe. Spike is taken aback. "A bit early, am I?"

You chuckle, "no. I forgot to tell you yesterday. I'm taking the day off today. I want to rest."

Spike is crestfallen. You resting was good for your health but bad for his heart. This meant he wouldn't get time by your side.

"Oh... well... alright then. I'll see you..." He tries to hide his disappointment.

"I didn't say you had to leave."

A smile trails his face. "What do you have planned?" He said leaning against your doorframe.

"Well," you pondered, "you owe me a dance..." You grin.

He sighs, feigning annoyance when, in fact, he's been dreaming of the chance to hold you again. "Fine."

You invite him in. "Wait here. Let me change."

He sits on the couch. He takes in the scent of your home. It was you enveloping him, welcoming him. He could get used to this. To be in your space was to be at peace.

You come out in a flowy sundress. He forgets that he has no breath and feels a loss of air. As if the sight of you could bring him back to life. He stands up quickly.

"Darling, you are a vision."

You blush, "it's just an old dress."

He smiles softly as he approaches you. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You lock eyes, and time stops.

You catch the faint smell of Buffy on his skin. The smell of leather, dirt, and cigarette masks it well. You remind yourself of your friendship. There's nothing more. You remind yourself to breathe.

"Where do we start?" He whispers.

"Let's move some furniture and I'll get some tunes off my phone."

You work together to make space in the living room. You find a generic watlz Playlist, and you take your places in the center of the room.

Spike feels nervous and silly. He has waltzed many times but never with anyone of interest. Here you were, his friend waiting for his touch, his guidance.

He places his left hand on your back and holds your left hand with his right, and it felt like it's the first time he has been touched. You hold his hand firmly and place your other hand on his shoulder. It felt right.

The music starts. Soft. He guides your body, and you follow. Your turn and sway to the music, feeling the ebb and flow of your bodies. Synchronicity and attunement. You were a unit, inseparable.

Spike looked into your eyes, swimming for his life. He recognized something in them. Something he didn't deserve.

You locked eyes with Spike. A smile painted on your face. This was the moment you wished for. It felt like peace. It felt like the end of your journey. You wondered how you could use this moment to break your curse, but it was far too weak to take over a 1,000 year old curse. Nevertheless, it was perfect. It's been so long since you've been able to rest.

"Does this please you, love?" Spike asked as you both danced.

You nodded, "It reminds me of the last time I danced. It's been so long."

"Thinking of another man while in my arms, you dirty bird?" He smirked

You laugh, "No. I'm thinking of how good it felt. Dancing is very relaxing."

"So, no man comes to mind?" He asks, a little jealousy in his voice.

"Oh, yeah. One man. A British guy, poet, auburn hair, with glasses. A sweet man with beautiful eyes. Too shy for my taste but definitely a prize." You mused much to Spike's disdain.

"Sounds like a pratt." He said through his teeth.

You laugh, big and full. "He was a crush for the moment. Someone to dream a future with. Even though I knew it was impossible, he made me feel free." You made sure to dig in on your remarks. Part of you knew that this was your getback for Spike sleeping with Buffy. If he had her, why couldn't you at least have your memories.

Spike did a mistep causing you to fall into him. Your face against his chest, his hands catching your body. You both still. You raise your face. You're mere inches from his face. Lips, almost gracing. Your breath hitches in your chest. Spike looks down at you intrigued at your next move.

"Did he ever hold you like this?" He whispered.

"No..."

Time stops, and you feel like melting into him. So close and yet so far. You knew better, but at this moment, all that mattered was what he tasted like. At the same time, you wanted to ask if it felt like this when he held Buffy. The thought pushed you away from the moment. You straightened and stepped away.

"Do you want water?" You walk into the kitchen.

Spike smacks his forehead. What was he doing? What did he want? He follows you into the kitchen. "Got any booze?"

"Oh, it's that kind of party?" You giggle.

You bring out different types of liquers and beers. "Pick your poison."

"Shots and then drinks."

You pour two shots. You both pick it up and clink your drinks before drinking it. You both sigh at the bitterness of the spirit.

You share a bottle of wine. A bittersweet red. Something that reminded Spike of blood.

"Thank you. That was fun." You break the silence.

Spike grins, "Anytime, love. It's been awhile. Sorry for stopping abruptly." He says in between sips of the wine.

You nod not knowing how to address his reaction to you talking about a past love. You didn't know how to communicate how much you loved his reaction, or the fact that he held you that close.

Spike becomes aware of Buffy's scent on him. Embarrassment takes over. He hoped that you didn't notice. How could he knock boots with Buffy and then run into your arms? You deserved respect. He made a mental note to shower next time.

You both drank the night away. Chatting and connecting. You share laughter and playful touches. The touches lingered with time. Personal space was non-existent. By the end of the night, you were cuddling on your couch. You were sleepy, and your words slurred, which made you giggle more. Spike watched attentively and committed every smile and sigh to memory.

"The sun is about to raise, love." He mentioned.

You stirred in his arms, "Already?"

He held you close, taking in the scent of your hair. "Yes, love." He hated the idea of moving, but he knew this wasn't his scene. Not yet.

You both, slowly, part. You miss his body, and he misses yours. You both slowly get up, wordless.

"Are you staying?" You ask silently.

"Not tonight, love." He hated himself for that answer.

"I understand." You mask the disappointment in your voice.

He walks to your kitchen and comes back with a cup of water. " 'm not leaving 'till you drink it."

"Then I'm never drinking it." You smile as you take the cup.

He smiles, big, and full. "Cheeky."

You finish the water and set the cup down on your coffee table. You walk Spike to the door. "Thank you again. You're the best friend I've ever had."

Spike is taken aback by your compliment. He basks in it. "Anything for you, love." He leans in and kisses her cheek. He turns and walks away before you can react.

You place a hand where his lips were. You felt lightheaded, but you didn't know if it was the alcohol or Spike's affection.

Spike walked fast-paced but happy all the way to his mausoleum. He pondered his actions tonight. He went fom degradation to...dare he say it? Not yet. He wanted time to bask in the effects of tonight. The sensations. The scents. He wanted to capture tonight into his being forever. Never had he had such intimacy, so much vulnerability. All ready for the picking, but not yet. He had much to offer but not enough to be loved by her, or so he told himself. He didn't deserve it. Not yet. Someday, soon, he will be able to bypass the degradation and the self-mutilation that is his rendezvous with Buffy. On that day, he will be good enough, whatever that means, for y/n... but not yet. So, until then, he had pain, destruction, and tonight's memory to keep him afloat.

#spike the bloody #spike x you #spike x reader #spike x y/n #spike x yn #spike btvs #spike #btvs x reader #btvs imagine #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #william pratt #william the bloody

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itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland · 1 month

Text

Waves (Spike x YN)

Request: Nope. Just another concept that turned way too long. Continuation of other fics.

TW: Mentions of blood and phsyical harm.

Word Count: 2.2k

Previous | Next

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Another night of hunting. Another night covered in blood. You walked half contorted down the street, in pain after your battle. Your body was regenerating but it was still painful. How many more nights if this hell before you found peace. You would cry, like you did in the past, but there's no point. It brings no relief. So, you just hobbled home in the dead of night hoping no civilian would catch you. Cause what a horrifying sight you are.

Smoke litters the air as Spike exhales. Another night of helping the slayer. Another night of getting his ass handed to him for getting cocky around her. He wishes he wasn't infatuated with her, but life just happens. A quick thought interrupted his line of thought. The cursed slayer. He hasn't seen her in 3 days. He misses her. Now that she doesn't work at The Magic Shop it’s harder to see her. Maybe every other day he'll see her in the cemetery with Buffy or alone but never on a consistent schedule. He knows where she lives... he could visit her. He would blush if he had any blood to produce a blush. How silly is he being? Him, chasing after the cursed slayer. Ridiculous.

He trails off from the cemetery, still debating on whether to visit y/n or not. What reasons would he have for stopping by? The waltz! He offered her a dance! He stops in his tracks and shakes his head. He was being silly. No one that experienced and ancient would care to spend time with him. Even if they were friends. She was just being polite. He tried to reason with himself. He has never felt so much doubt over someone. With Buffy it was straight forward, stalk and wear her down. With y/n it’s so complicated. Like playing a game without rules.

His attention is caught by a trail of blood on the ground. He's on high alert. He follows the zig zag of blood down the street. This is the street to y/n's house. He walks faster, afraid for her safety. As he turns the corner he sees her, a macabre sight of body parts twisted and torn. He holds his breath as if he had any. He rushes to her side.

You become aware of a presence behind you. You're tired and badly hurt, but if a fight has to happen then you are ready.

"Y/n!" Spike yells after you.

The wave of relief that washes over you is insurmountable.

You barely turn as he runs up to you, worry etched on his face.

"Despite my current presentation, I'm fine." You interject before he can get a word out.

"You look like death."

"I'll survive." You try to hobble past him.

Without any warning he scoops you up into his arms, your face against his chest. You feel a blush coming on. He starts at a steady and careful pace back to your house.

"I can walk." You argue.

"Barely" he says.

You sigh. You would never admit it but you like how it feels to be taken care of. You breath in the scent if dirt and leather that clings to Spike. You stay quiet the rest of the way, contemplating how much different your life would be if you had Spike around. You wave the idea away. He belongs to Buffy and you belong to the curse, simple as that.

You reach your house, still in his arms. He gently puts you down on your feet. You're surprised by his gentle nature.

"Thank you." You smile, trying to steady yourself.

"What are friends for." He pauses for a second. "You owe me a dance." He felt like a putz bringing it up in her current state. Why did his brain short circuit around her?

You chuckle. "I haven't forgotten. Maybe next time." You turn away and walk inside your house.

As soon as the door closes, he hangs his head. What an idiot he's being! Asking for a dance when she can barely move. Might as well wear a sign that says touch starved. He walks back home, hands in his pocket, angry and embarrassed. He can still smell her blood on him, making him hungry.

The next day he was itching to see y/n again. He had to wait at the cemetery, maybe? Walk up her street? He didn't know where to locate her, simply that he had to make sure she was okay. After a while he gives up and starts to walking by y/n's street to find her sitting by the curve. She looks in pain.

He rushed to your side. You have a broken leg. You thought it would be a good idea to limp back home after your early but painful altercation with a demon. Spike crouches down to your level.

"What do we got here?" He says in a playful tone trying to hide his concern.

"You should see the other guy."

Spike frowned at seeing the damage. "Can you get up?"

"Yes. And no, you're not carrying me today. I've been taking care if myself for years and I can do it now."

"A bloody terrible job you've been doin’."

"Rude" you get up and start limping again.

Before you can get your footing Spike sweeps you up again. You protest but he hushes you. Again, incredulous. This man is sweet but is getting on your last nerve.

"Sorry love, can't let you waste away." He looks down at you. He notices how fragile you are in his arms, how good you feel so close to him, and how much power he has over you in this one moment.

He quickly looks up, trying to avoid your prodding gaze. "Tell me what happened."

"Simple. Demon had a club. I got cocky. He swung, broke my leg and I swung my sword and cut his head."

"Big fan of decapitation, I see."

"All in a night's work." You grinned.

"You say you’ve always taken care o’ yourself. Does every night end like this?"

"Most nights, yes. It’s just me and the big bad demons. I do get careless cause of the whole immortality bit."

He nods. You both reach your house. He gently puts you down on your feet. You sway and he catches you. You look up, your faces mere inches from each other. You take the time to admire his chiseled face, his sharp cheek bones and his blue eyes. All the while he enjoys getting reacquainted with the valley of your lips, and the deep hue of color in your eyes. He wonders how soft your lips really are. He pulls back at the thought and you almost stumble onto him. He steadies you, from a distance. You laugh at his reaction.

"Once again, thank you. You always seem to show up when I need you, and I appreciate that."

He nods, contemplating his next move. You turn to open, enter and close your door. However, Spike puts his foot on the door.

"I don't want you goin' our without me."

"Excuse me?" You're incredulous.

"Every time you're alone you get hurt. We can't have that now, can we? So, you're with me from now on."

You stand there speechless. Before you can retort he ends the conversation with "I'll pick you up at 9." And walks away.

The following night you wait for him, amused at how the night will turn out. A knock is heard in the distance. You open it to see Spike, your chaperone if the night.

"Good evening. Where to m'lady?"

You laugh at his antics. As you walk towards the woods you explain to Spike your goal for the night. To take down set of twin demons that have been trying to lure children to eat them. Spike is attentive and energized. He wanted to impress you. He wanted to prove to you that he was no sniveling child vampire. Just because there is an 800 year difference between the two of you, it doesn't mean that he's useless.

You both make it to an empty playground.

"Here?" Spike asks.

"Here." You confirm.

So, you sit and wait. Spike steals glances at you, hoping to catch your eye. He has never felt so small and shy. You turn to look at him and smile "nervous, baby boy?"

He is taken aback, speechless. Baby boy! You had some gal! He didn't know if to fight back or let you dominate him. Neither action came to fruition due to two big demons coming into view.

You stand ready, "show time, baby boy." You run up at the twin demons.

Spike needs a minute to rewire his thoughts and calm his feelings. Once reconnected he runs after you to back you up.

You both go on a head on collision with the demons. Spike is surprised at your direct approach. He can tell you're too focused on the win and not on your safety. He swoops in to play defense and keep you safe. While you work on slashing and punching, Spike works on blocking and moving you out of the way. You both work as a unit, fearless of what’s to come. Your bodies speak a language that only you two understand.

The demons are tired and bruised but you guys aren't done. Spike calls your name as he pushes one of the demons your way. Your sword is ready, and you stab into him with ease. Spike misses his cue as you call to him and the other demon attacks him, hurting him. You call to him one last time throwing your sword his way. He catches it with ease and stabs the demon multiple times. You're both triumphant.

You walk up to Spike to assess the damage.

"It's bleeding but not terrible" Spike states.

You nod and sling his arm around your shoulders. You both limp towards your house.

"Thank you. You were amazing." You compliment him.

He smirks, "You weren't half bad."

"If you hadn't been there those demons would've taken me out."

"I know" Spike smiles his shit eating grin.

You stop at your porch and Spike moves away from you. "Good night. I'll see you tomorrow night" and he starts walking away.

"Wait, I'm gonna patch you up." You stop him from moving farther away from you.

He freezes. "Love, I'd have to come in..." He trails off at the prospect of being in your home.

You chuckle. "I know." You stand inside your house. "Go ahead, ask."

He couldn't believe it. Dead heart be still. "Can I come in?"

"Nah."

Spike's jaw drops. Ridiculous. He feels like storming off until he hears you laugh which makes his blood boil.

"Wait! Don't leave. I’m sorry. Ask again. Please." You say trying to get your laughter under control.

He asks again, and you say yes. And he feels all the air, if any, leave his body. He was elated and giddy.

He saunters into your home as if it was his own. He takes in the space, the furniture.

"Take a seat, I'll be right back" you point to your couch.

You bring him a cup of water and a med kit. He is humbled at your gesture. So simple yet so loving.

"Take off your shirt." You say as you look through your med kit.

"Buy me a drink first, love" he chuckles and complies.

You make an annoyed face, but it’s quickly washed off at the sight at his body. He was breathtaking. Dips and valleys hidden under hard lines of muscles. You remind yourself to breathe. You refocus and go to tending his wound. You are careful, loving as your work on him.

He admires your gentle hands, So carefully caring for him. Buffy would never. Yet y/n will always. Always. He snaps back from his reverie as you apply the anti-septic to his wound. It stings.

"All new!" You state looking at your handy work.

"Thank you..." he mumbles as he pulls his shirt down.

"My pleasure. I mean, it was a pleasure to help. I mean not that I take pleasure in seeing your hurt. I mean - " Spike places his pointer and middle finger to your lips. A firm but gentle gesture.

"I know what you mean." He smiles, a genuine one. "I have to go now. The sun is rising."

As he turns away you pull at his duster. "Stay."

He turns slowly, in surprise of what he just heard.

"Stay" you repeat. "You can stay on the couch. It’s a pull out."

He makes eye contact. He steps closer, purposefully entering your personal space. One hand distracts itself by playing with your hair. The other ghosted over yours at your side.

He knew, in that moment, that you would look out for him no matter what. The woman he got to know before he knew her as the cursed slayer was still there. The attentive eyes, the smart mouth and the loving heart. All that he needed. He refuses to let himself drown in this feeling. Not yet. He needed time before he let himself swim in your waves of love. But there was no harm in taking a dip, just for tonight.

#spike x yn #spike x y/n #spike x reader #spike x you #william the bloody #spike the bloody #btvs #spike btvs #btvs imagine #btvs x reader #buffy the vampire slayer #william pratt

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itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland · 1 month

Text

Paid in Lies (Spike x Y/N)

Requested: No.

Synopsis: This is lore for the character in the other fics. It helps to build up the relationship and the direction. Feel free to get acquainted with it. <3

Word count: 2.5k

TW: None.

Masterlist | Next

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Another droll day with the Scoobies. The Magic Box was their hangout after all. Spike wishes he was anywhere but this place. However, he found himself at the metaphysical store more times than not. After getting the chip implanted and losing his ability to kill, he finds himself being amused by their banter and attempts at saving the world.

Today was different. The normal Scooby chatter was taken up by a voice he didn't recognize. A story he had never heard was being told followed by laughter. He was weary of new people.

"So then I told him that he couldn't tell a newt's eye from a bat's and that's what makes him a horrible wizard." Y/n exclaimed and laughter erupted.

"I can't believe you got into a fight with a kid over the last piece of candy." Willow stated.

"I take Halloween very seriously." You quipped.

"Aren't you like a hundred?" Xander chimed in.

"Rude. I'm 25. I can still trick or treat. They say it’s the only day the big bad doesn’t come out" you got up from your chair and walked to the register when you noticed Spike.

Everyone became nervous about your statement.

"What big bad?" Buffy asked.

"I don't know. It’s just something people say." Spike approached you. "Welcome to the Magic Box how can I h-"

"Don't bother with him, he doesn't buy anything." Giles interrupted, having come from the back room after he heard your comment.

"Oh. In that case, hi I’m y/n." Your voice was inviting, suspiciously so. Spike didn't trust it but didn't back away.

"I’m the big bad" he responded.

"Interesting. Then it means that you don't come out on Halloween."

Willow snickered.

Spike seemed incredulous. You just met him and you're already making fun of him.

"He's Spike, he just exists." Buffy chimed in.

"Rough." You stated.

An awkward silence followed. No one would say it, but they wanted you gone. It was time for the Scoobie’s nightly meeting, and you weren't invited since you were a regular civilian.

Giles finally got the hint. "Y/n it’s gonna be a slow night. Why don't you head home."

You hesitated but nodded. You packed up your things. "Night guys! It was nice meeting you Mr. Spike Big Bad."

As soon as you leave the chatter picks up. Conversations about the latest big bad and how to take them down takes up the space. But not for Spike. His interest is peaked by y/n. He's used to being mocked but never by someone he just met, much less a human. If you knew who he was would you still try that stunt? He was strung out from a previous altercation and was actively looking for trouble. So, he starts asking questions about you.

"She just came in one day and asked for a job. She doesn't talk much about herself but knows a lot about the occult." Willow offered.

"I bet she's a demon" Xander chimes in.

"How about we slow it down on the demon accusations. She might just be a big nerd like Giles." Buffy mentions.

Giles frowns at Buffy's retorts.

Spike mulls it over. He's decided to get more information out of you. He may be off base, but he feels that you're hiding something. No one comes to Sunnydale just because.

The conversation continues in the background as Spike devices a plan to follow you, maybe find out more about you. He exits The magic Box without a word. He’s hot on your trail watching your every movement until you stop. He doubles back into an alley. He hears you snicker. He’s so irritated by your calm demeanor that he breaks his silent stalking.

“You know, pretty girls shouldn’t be walking alone at night.” He walks up behind you.

“You think I’m pretty?” You turn around, a grin on your face.

He’s definitely annoyed now. “I could kill you if I wanted to.”

“Same.” She retorted and started walking off.

He stands there, flabbergasted. Who do you think you are? Don’t you know who you’re dealing with?

He walks up to you again, walking beside you. Eyeing you as you walk silently.

After awhile you speak up, “It’s weird for you to follow me.”

He’s quiet again. You knew he was following you. Most humans are oblivious. “You’re not afraid to be on your own, huh?”

“Nope. I’ve done it my whole life. Being an orphan does give you that hyper independence vibe.”

He stands in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. He thinks over whether he will show you his vamp face. Maybe scare you a bit. He decides against it. “Just be careful, love.” He walks away.

“If it’s so dangerous, why don’t you walk me home, big bad?” You shout out to him.

He stops, smirks and turns around. He smugly walks up to you and you both resume a quiet but steady pace to your house. Upon arrival you turn to him, “I can’t invite you in. I just met you and I can’t risk all that noise. Thank you for walking me home, though.”

He nods nonchalantly. “Goodnight, then.” He walks away feeling a bit awkward. Like, what just happened? He offered to walk a stranger home and you refused to invite him in? Did you know he was a vampire? Were you just being polite? So many questions.

The next day a similar occurrence happened. He saw you at The Magic Box, heard you talking about the occult soliciting laughter with your odd anecdote, and off you were to your home. He debated whether or not to follow you again. As if his feet had a mind of their own, he trailed behind you once more. He caught up to you and started small talk.

Where did you come from. “North Carolina”

Where were you going. “To find freedom.”

How long were you planning on staying. “’Till the money runs out.”

Who were you in love with. You paused at his bold question. He shrugged, “well, answer the question.” He pressed.

You took a pause. You told him of two previous lovers, both in which love was unrequited. You explained that you lived for the moment and not for men.

Before he could start up with questions you interested with your own. You asked the same questions. He hesitated to answer your questions honestly.

“Same questions. Go.”

He sighed. “England. Err.. to…” He paused. He realized he didn’t have the answer to where was he going and how long he was planning on staying at Sunnydale. How to explain that he is a vampire with no real vamp-like behavior? How to admit that he was obsessed with Buffy? So, he opted to skip to the last question. “It doesn’t matter. As for love, I had a nice lady. Crazy bird, she was. I loved her until she left me. Now I just go with whatever fancies me.” He flashes you a grin. You laugh.

“You’re harping on me, but you have no real plan or ambitions.”

That hurt his feelings. He had ambitions, in the past he wanted to kill the slayer. Now he wants to date her. Maybe his priorities got skewed.

As he further mulls over what you said, you both arrive at her home.

“Thank you for walking me home, again. It’s nice to have company.

And so, this became a daily occurrence. Spike would walk you home and ask you about your life, your day, and your connection to the Scoobies. It seemed harmless and he enjoyed how normal you made him feel. With you there was no talk of demons or the end of the world, just a normal human doing human things.

A month has passed, and Spike is still walking you home every day you work at The Magic Box. Today Spike felt bolder in his questions while walking you back home.

“What are we?” Spike side eyed you.

“That’s a bit forward. If you need to know, I thought we were friends. I mean, aren’t you and Buffy a thing?”

He was taken aback by your observation. Of course, he had a thing for Buffy, but it wasn’t reciprocated.

“Let’s change the subject…” Spike trailed off. “Friends, huh? Don’t got many o’ those.”

You smiled. “Then consider yourself lucky to have me.”

He looked away, a smile on his face.

You arrive at your house. “So, when are you inviting me in?” Spike spoke up.

You paused. How to tell him you know… “I’m not ready. Give me time.” You made heavy eye contact. He stepped closer to you, sharing your space. You stood there for what seemed an eternity.

“I’m not gon’ hurt you.” He whispered.

You nodded, “I know.” You leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. You turned around and entered your house.

He stood there, surprised, and giddy. He smiled, a genuine smile as he walked back to his mausoleum with a pep in his step.

2 months have passed, and you too have spent a lot of time being close. Boundaries are still in place. Like he’s not allowed in your house, but you too linger at your doorway, in each other’s space. He is still after Buffy, but he brushes his hand against yours, whispers into your ear, and plays with your hair, among other affectionate touches.

3 months have passed, and you and Spike have gotten to know each other well. The Scoobies were weary of your inside jokes and playful glances.

“You know, the sun is setting quicker.” Spike mentioned as a hint that it was time for you two to head out.

You sighed. “Let me finish up this order.” You looked up at him feigning annoyance.

“Don’t want the big bad to get you.” Spike gave you a playful look.

You smiled. “Well, what am I keeping you around for?”

Xander groaned. “Kiss already.” He yelled in frustration which made you and Spike laugh.

As you were getting your bag a demon came crashing in through the entrance of The Magic Box. It snarled and tore down shelves and tables that were in his way. “Give me the slayer” He exclaimed.

“I’m right here, tall and ugly.” Buffy jumped in.

“Not slayer.” He swatted her away. “Real slayer.” He pointed at you. Everyone looked at you confused. You debated on whether to feign innocence or help out. Before you had made up your mind the demon started charging at you. At that point you back flipped into his line of fire and kicked him in the jaw. Everyone stood incredulous.

You proceeded to beat the demon punch after punch. Not holding back, you pulled a sword from a sheath you had strapped on your back under your shirt. Without hesitation you went for the demon’s throat, blood splattering everywhere. You stood covered in blood but triumphant.

Silence followed. You turned around, “Ta-da?”

Buffy stood from her spot and marched up to you. “Who are you, really?”

“Yeah, explain yourself.” Spike yelled from the back.

You sighed, defeated. “Everyone sit down. I’ll explain. Please, just listen and then ask questions. It’s a long story.”

You proceeded to explain that you were close to 1,000 years old, 985 to be exact, and that you were then deemed the slayer in your village. You were raised by your grandfather who was also your watcher. On the night of your 25th birthday, you killed a vampire that was the lover of a very powerful witch in your village. The witch, heartbroken and vengeful, put a curse on you that you would not die until you found peace. That doomed you to roam the Earth in the search of true peace.

The gang was quiet. The atmosphere was heavy. You were ashamed and embarrassed.

“Why did you lie?” Spike spoke up first. His voice was heavy with anger.

“I had to. It’s so difficult to be open about why I still exist. It’s shameful.” You lowered your head.

He didn’t seem satisfied with your answer and left. Your eyes trailed after him. You knew you hurt him. You purposefully created a whole life, and he believed it. You both shared moments, connection, vulnerability and yours was all a rouse.

“I’m confused. How can you not die?” Willow asked.

Her question snapped you back to reality. “Um, uh, Well… If I get mortally wounded, it heals faster. Even if it’s a fatal blow, my body regenerates.”

“What happens if you get decapitated, maimed, or burned alive?” Xander asks, curious.

Everyone looks at him. “What?! You were all thinking it.” Everyone nodded.

You chuckled. “One word. Regeneration.”

Everyone nods. “That makes sense and ew.” Xander responded.

You stand there, still covered in blood answering question after question. Have searched how to break the curse? Do you know what will give you peace? How many slayers have you met? Do you enjoy being eternal? You answered every question until they were satisfied. The conversation shifted to how 3 slayers could exist.

“It makes sense now how you knew so much about the occult.” Giles chimed in.

You grinned. “I dabble.” You say trying to be funny. A joke that landed flat due to the circumstances.

“I know this is weird. Me existing is weird but know that I didn’t mean harm. I’m just trying to figure out how to end this curse. I can’t be running around divulging my existence to every slayer. Having two slayers makes it easier to say that there is a third but still. You must understand where I’m coming from.”

The gang was quiet, pensive. “I think it’s best that you go. We can talk more about this tomorrow.” Giles stated.

“I know this is stupid, but do I still have a job?”

Giles glares at you. You raise your hands in a defensive stance. You decide it’s best to leave.

You walk home, alone. It’s the first time in the last three months that you were walking home alone. You felt tired and sad. Not only did you potentially lose your connection with the Scoobies, but you also lost who you considered to be your closest friend, Spike.

Loud thrashing and banging can be heard inside the mausoleum. Spike is enraged and full of energy. Of course, the one person he wanted to lean on was a fake. Another illusion in his path. He felt like he could confide in her, trust her. She was no more than a liar, a con artist. To hell with her sob story. She hurt him. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t been honest himself, he did the best he could while obscuring the truth to protect her. To protect her! She would pay for making a fool of him. Everyone mocks him for his lack of vampire like behaviors. Everyone puts him down for failing at killing Buffy. But to made out to be a rube for trusting, for caring, that’s where he draws the line. He was vulnerable and he got paid in lies.

#spike btvs #buffyverse #spike yn #spike the bloody #william the bloody #btvs #spike x reader #fanfiction #buffy the vampire slayer #william pratt

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itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland · 2 months

Text

Dance With Me (Spike x Y/N)

Request: No. Just another drabble that is way too long.

Synopsis: Being a cursed slayer is hard. Harder when a vampire won't just leave you alone.

TW: None.

Word Count: 1.2k

Previous | Next

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Sun has set and the air is thick with fog. It’s eerily quiet in the cemetery. Not a creature to disturb the atmosphere. Inside the mausoleum there permeated a different energy.

Heavy sighs and lustful laughs can be heard. The sound of passionate kissing and groping is evident in the quiet of the night. Spike held you close to him on the sofa. Like a predator that caught his prey. You sighed in his mouth as you melded in a fiery storm of desire. His hands roamed your upper back, trying to unclasp your bra. You didn’t protest. Everything was going well. Too well. You came out for air. Heavy eye contact was made. As if you could communicate your deepest desires with one look.

As Spike was ready to go in for another round of erotic contact a loud noise was heard. He looked up but nothing was there. Another thud nearer still. He felt in a haze. As if something was amiss. As he looks back down at you, you disappear. His dream is broken. He wakes up with a gasp. Another dreaded dream of the cursed slayer. He felt surprised that his attention had shifted so suddenly to the new slayer. His heart still belonged to Buffy, or at least that’s what he liked to believe. However, these heavy sensual dreams were more frequent as of late.

Outside y/n roamed the cemetery, hacking away at heavy foliage near the wooded area. Another night out on the hunt. If it could stop, that would be an improvement to y/n's life. Being cursed to hunt demons for over 1,000 years is less of a privilege and more of a punishment. The world may be safe, but y/n loses her grip on reality. Every day is the same. Wake up, go to work, wait till the sun sets and hunt. Everything was the same with a little twist, this time around. Spike being the lemon to her lemonade. She regarded him as an equal, someone that she enjoyed being around, but the lord knows he was bad for her. With his British accent, bravado and underlying poet heart. She had met many like him, but he had a spark to him. A light that others missed. She hadn’t seen him since their slow dance. You could say that tonight her hunt was partially focused on finding him again.

The cemetery was empty, quiet. The fog gave it an eerie ambiance. Y/n was guarded and ready for a fight. No, hoping for a fight. A crack in the distance catches her attention. She walks closer, hoping to encounter a demon. She pounces on a bush, wrestles with a branch or two to find nothing. A bunny on its way to its hide out.

"Attacking critters, are we?" A smug voice called from behind.

Y/n whips her head around to find him, leaning on a tombstone. She made a mental note of how ridiculously big the tombstone was. She feigned annoyance.

"You can never be too sure in the Hellmouth. What are you up to in this cryptic place." She brushed off the twigs and leaves that gathered in her hair.

"Vampire plus cemetery equals home."

She felt dumb. "Oh right, god forbid you find somewhere that doesn't smell like death"

"I like to call it musk." He grinned and walked closer. He fiddled with her hair, pulling the remaining twigs out of it. "Are we hunting tonight, cursed slayer?"

She snatched her hair back. "It’s just slayer and yes. I heard that a big demon was hiding out here. You didn't see a skinny little rascal full of horns and pointy teeth, did ya?"

"The description paints a picture but none that I’ve seen. Why not entertain yourself with some vampires while you wait?"

"No can do. That's Buffy's territory. I just hunt demons now a days.”

Spike raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “A retired slayer?"

"No, to loop back to your original point, I’m a cursed slayer. Part of the ordeal is that I can't kill vampires and they can't kill me. So we're eternally stuck with each other. Poetic, ain't it?" Y/n makes a face of defeat.

Spike takes a breath, processing what you just said. He is thoroughly amused by your circumstances. Enthralled with the idea that you can't hurt him and he can’t hurt you. Equals.

He proceeds to laugh after a pause. "You're pathetic."

"Super rude." She pushes past him. She regrets seeking him out. Of course, regardless of how she feels about him, he is still evil.

He reaches back for her only to miss her hand. The slight touch sending shivers down his spine. What a nit he has been. If she were like Buffy, she would’ve bantered with him. Picked a fight. Y/n is much less tolerant of his teasing.

Y/n walks with purpose deeper into the cemetery woods in search of the demon. Spike follows her.

"What do you want Spike? Let me be pathetic in peace." She's angry and hurt.

This is why you don't share about your curse. It makes you feel defective, useless. She thought.

He steps in front of you, hands up in a defensive stance. "I’m sorry. I didn't mean it as an insult"

You laugh. "How else am I supposed to take it?"

"I’m not used to people taking what I say to heart. I was expecting an insult back."

"Yes, please make fun of my suffering. I just love being eternal. If you’re looking for a fight, go somewhere else. Now move, this pathetic cursed slayer still has work to do."

As you walk away, he beats himself up internally. What a fucking idiot he's being. How can he reach out to you if he's too busy pushing you away? So, he follows you again without a word.

Screeching is heard from a couple of miles away. A pained scream from an unknown being. There's a clearing in the woods and an animal is seen thrashing and fighting for its life. Y/n crouches low, eyes on the demon feeding on the animal.

"That our guy?" Spike sneaks behind you.

You don't answer. You pull a sword from a sheath strapped to your back. You're ready.

You go in fast with a big swing. You miss by a small margin. The demon confronts you and you go at it. His slim form permits him to be agile while you're slightly slowed down by your weapon.

Frustrated, Spike gets tired of being on the sidelines. "Mind if I cut in." He slugs the demon unexpectedly.

The demon stumbles and before he can get his bearings you slice into the demon’s chest cavity. The demon screams out in pain. His body slumps with a disgusting thud.

"That was easy." Spike smirked.

You're frustrated with him for insulting you and the even more for cutting in. It was clear that coming out tonight was a mistake. You turn around and start to storm off, sword in hand. You hated how overly sensitive you felt around Spike. He was just another vampire. So, why were you so hurt by him?

"Wait..." Spike begs.

You swing your sword and place it inches away from his face. He steadies.

"I liked our dance the other night. It felt right. Can we do it again sometime?"

"Are you gonna insult me again?"

Spike pondered it. He liked getting under her skin. "Not unless it turns you on."

You laughed, you couldn't help it. This dolt of a vampire had you in a chokehold and you didn't know why.

"Do you know how to waltz?" She asked.

Spike grimaced. "A bit uppity for my taste but I'll do it." He pushes your sword away and steps closer "But only for you."

#spike btvs #spike the bloody #william the bloody #spike x reader #spike x y/n #spike yn #spike hc #spike headcanon #buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #y/n #spike imagine

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itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland · 2 months

Text

Smooth Operator (Spike x y/n)

Request: no. Just a long drabble that came to me in a dream.

Warning: None.

Summary: Spike finds out about your secret. He is enraged and hurt. He is seeking within himself what to do.

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In the back a figure appears. Darkness consumes their silhouette. He picks a table in the back, away from the multitude of people. He spots her at a distance.

He scowls at her. Watching her dance in the crowd of the Bronze enraged him. So carefree and distant. He felt like a fool for trusting her. Y/n if that was even your real name.

He remembered the past with disdain. He was attentive to your words. Watchful of your needs. He listened when you spoke of past loves. He imagined what your life had been when you mentioned you were an orphan. He was there with you. He drank every word as if it were the only sustenance he needed. When you came into his world, found you working for Giles at the Magic Box he became enthralled with your voice. Attentive of your clumsy movements that contrasted your sharp knowledge of demons and the metaphysical. All a rouse.

How naive he has gotten to have believed that you simply waltzed into his life. What a rube. No one that delightful, funny, and focused could exist without their own secret.

He was disgusted by her flippant attitude after being discovered. He was even more disgusted that The Scoobies had welcomed her in so readily. However, he did note that Buffy was weary of y/n. How could she not? Another slayer. I’m sorry, a cursed slayer.

A nearly 1,000 year old slayer cursed by a powerful witch for killing her vampire lover. Who could make this up? Now there is 3 slayers, all varying degrees of fucked up.

He couldn’t figure out if he was more upset that she lied to him or that she believed he couldn't be trusted. Granted, they had just met. However, they spent 3 months of pure friendly bliss. The banter, laughter, teasing, the knowing glances... all for nothing.

He was evil, yes, and he wasn't all too honest but she crossed a line. She blatantly became someone else. He understood why. Explaining her past did sound like an acid trip and she did need to keep a low profile to permit slayers step into their power without depending on her. Nevertheless, she hurt him. He thought they were friends! He thought she understood him! No. She pretended. She played him.

He is cognizant that he omitted his true nature. Downplayed his vampy-ness, but that's neither here nor there. He was mad at her. She damaged him, just like all the rest.

He watched her move her body with the music. Hips moving steady like a trance. The crowd molded with her permitting her to disappear and become one with the throng of sweaty bodies. He hated it. How could she have so much fun with these mortals? More pretending he guessed.

He is caught off guard as he watches her walk up to him.

"Wanna dance?" Y/n's breath is rushed. She is out of air from dancing.

Spike scoffs. "With you? Pass."

She tilts her head; a small smile plays on her lips. "Still mad, huh?"

His lips purse. Anger bubbling in his stomach. He wants to swear at her, grab her by the neck, whisper a threat or two. But he recollects himself, slightly. "This ain't my scene and neither are you."

"Just one song. A slow dance. Give me a chance to explain." She leans in hoping to persuade him.

"Buzz off." He turns and walks away.

Y/n is left alone at the table. Smile on her face, tears in her eyes. She decides to go back to the dance floor.

She understands how she hurt Spike, but she had no choice. Being a cursed slayer was taboo. It brings so much baggage to have to be acknowledged and seen by others. 2 slayers was a problem, now 3 is chaos. Her role is to watch from a distance. Only offer guidance when there is no watcher, or the slayer has gone rogue. Y/n is good at hiding and pretending. Sometimes, like this time, she gets caught and that opens a can of worms.

In the past her existence has been a source of shock and contention but never of a broken heart. Spike, her dear friend whom she became close to in the last 3months was now battling his own demons in regards to her. She hurt him by lying. She swore by her story, demonstrated genuineness and transparency. All for it to be a charade.

She pondered how to make it up to him when he wouldn’t give her the time of day... err night. She missed him. His cheeky comments, his smile, the underlying big bad persona, everything.

The lights dim, the tempo lowers. A slow song. Smooth operator by Sade. She looks back, hoping to make eye contact with Spike. A last invitation. He was nowhere to be seen.

He's loved in seven languages

Defeated, she walks back to her table with the Scobie’s only to be grabbed by the arm. She's being pulled towards the dance floor. Ready for a fight she whips back only to see Spike. Before she can say anything he guides her hands to the back of his neck, and he places his hands on her hips. They start to sway to the song.

Diamond life, lover boy

"Well, explain..." Spike says.

She's taken aback by his words, "um, well... first off, I’m sorry I lied but I had to." A minute passes. They are locking eyes but no words are being exchanged.

No place for beginners or sensitive hearts

Y/n feels self-conscious. Something that has rarely happened in the almost 1,000 year she has lived. She looks down.

"I was protecting you guys" she starts up again. "I have never met a slayer with friends. It has a different dynamic. More people to account for. I was afraid my reputation would damage what Buffy had, and by proxy, it would hurt you." She looked up again. His eyes never leaving her face.

"You lied to protect me?" He mocked. "Love, you knew I was the big bad and still you toyed with me."

He's a smooth operator

"Don't start. You did not tell me what you really were. And I was not toying with you. I was trying to keep distance between us."

"Distance, eh? "

She sighed. It seemed hopeless to get him to see her side. She pulled away, hoping to leave things as they were but his hold was strong. She stayed put.

His eyes are like angels but his heart is cold

"What did you think of me, of us?" He questioned her.

The question threw her off. She stammered. He became irritated. She knew that the only way to get his trust back was to be honest. To do that, she would have to sacrifice her pride.

"I like you. You're a solid friend. I do not care that others think you're no good, I can see the light in you. And us? I thought we made a decent team, much to everyones dismay."

Smooth operator

He felt giddy. He never had a friend. Someone that valued him. Someone that saw him as he is.

He mulled her words over, carefully. He assented and pulled her closer. She stilled in his arms for a moment before returning to their sway.

"I'll allow it. Lie to me again and you'll regret it."

She chuckled knowing his threat was pointless and fake.

Smooth operator

#spike x yn #william the bloody #buffy the vampire slayer #william prat #spike fanfiction #spike the bloody #spike #spike drabble #spike imagine #spike btvs #btvs #spike x reader

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