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#Buffy the Vampire Slayer x Reader
evieelyzabethh · 29 days
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Warmer than a Comforter
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pairing(s): Spike x fem!reader
summary: it wasn't unusual for Spike to 'break' into your apartment, but it was unusual for him to want to spend the night.
warnings: very long (4.4k words), spike being a simp, one bed trope, dry humping, thigh fucking, masturbation, some fingering, slight praise, Spike being Spike, a smidge of possessiveness, and thats about it
It was no secret to anyone your favorite time of day was long after the sun went down. A full-time college student who worked a part time job on top of that was no easy feat. Your time during the day was never your time, it was your shitty professors time who assigned reading after reading that needed to be read for the never-ending stream of papers and theses, it belonged to your shitty boss who piled on tons of paperwork and demanded you be at his beck and call even after you clocked out. As much as you loved them, your time off belonged to your friends; patrolling, looking through dusty-old books, trying not to die every time you stepped out of your apartment.
When you got home (if there was no patrolling to be done), it was your time and while you were tired, you made time for your nightly routine. You'd slip off your shoes and walk in the dark to make it to your room to turn on your lamp, because you'd be damned if you were turning on one of the big lights this late.
You would usually strip down and dig a pair of pajamas out of your drawers before taking a scalding shower. You'd brush your teeth and wash your face, maybe if you had the energy, you'd do a face mask and paint your nails. You'd turn on your stereo or switch on your TV to fall asleep to the fuzzy sound and soft light. This, of course, is what you'd be doing right now had you not walked into your house with company.
You could see him lounging on your bed, the darkness of his attire somehow darker than your unlit room. His duster slung on the back of your desk chair, only clothed in some tight navy shirt and jeans.
"What are you doing here, Spike?" You crossed your arms over your chest, annoyed when you realized he had his dirty ass boots on your bed.
"M' paying my favorite Scooby a visit." You walked over to turn on your lamp, giving you enough light to see how smug he was. His arms sat behind his head, his eyes glittering with amusement. He was doing this to annoy you. He did most things just to annoy you.
"Pay another Scooby a visit." You were dead tired, practically forcing your eyes open. You had just gotten back from work, your bag still in your hand which you used to knock his legs off your bed. He could've been stubborn, but he let you.
You stripped off your hoodie, flashing him your stomach as your undershirt rose with the movement. He whistled, "Scandalous."
"Get out of my apartment." You tossed your hoodie at him while rolling your eyes. He caught it midair, bringing it to his nose to sniff it.
"Smells different. You using a different bodywash?" You hummed as you walked around your room to find something suitable to wear to bed. It was dreadfully hot out, even worse than what you'd expect from a California summer. You had at least 3 fans going anytime you were here, especially since your landlord could never seem to find a permanent solution to the junky A.C unit.
"Midnight Rose. Real fancy stuff." You hadn't even noticed a difference, but of course Spike would. Vampire senses had a way of being intrusive in a way that was only helpful when it came to your cycle and saving you bed sheets.
"I like the other one better: the cocoa butter one. It was fainter. You smelt more like you." You scoffed.
"Duly noted." Your hands roamed over the old t-shirts from high school and camisole tops so old the straps had snapped on a couple of them.
Spike sat up on your bed, untying the laces on his shoes haphazardly before setting them by your bedroom door. He roamed around like you had been, picking up bottles of nail polish and flipping through one of the books on your shelf.
"You could spare me a bit of your attention, love. I mean I did go through the trouble of-"
"Breaking into my apartment?" You interrupted.
"On second thought, it was a bit easy. I pushed it a bit and the window came right out. Are you leaving it open for somebody?" His tone was supposed to sound much more teasing than it did. There was a pang in his chest, probably of jealousy. Much to his chagrin, he was jealous a lot these days and he couldn't quite tell if his frequent visits were enabling that or the very cause of it. Either way, it was hard not to just crawl through your window anytime he pleased.
You acted like you were annoyed and if he had a dollar for every time you threatened to call Buffy on him, he wouldn't need to dumpster dive for furniture. If he had another dollar for every time, you never followed through, he'd be even richer. You said it's because you could handle yourself without her help, but, admittedly, you didn't hate his company that much.
As far as house guests go, it could be worse. It's not like he eats all your food, talks your ears off, or is unfunny. He was just there. A pain in your ass sometimes, like when he insists on being half a step behind you during patrols and never fails to tell you how great your ass looks from behind. Never a malevolent presence, just annoyingly noticeable.
His boots were clunky, and he smelled of faint cigarettes and alcohol. He also hated silence. He was fidgety and anxious, even if his intentions were stealth, he couldn't help but break the tension and open his mouth. At times against his will, he just wanted to be noticed that bad. He just needed to be around you that bad.
"I keep telling the landlord to fix it, but he insists it's just fine. 'Nothin' some glue won't fix'." But you had tried gluing it. Had it not been for the clear shit jammed in the lock, the window would've just come right open with the flick of a finger.
"I could fix it for you." He went ignored while you had made your way to your bathroom, taking your hair down from the claw clip it had been stuck in for the past few hours. A slight moan of relief slipped through your lips as your fingers carded through it to massage your scalp.
"You know how to fix windows?"
"Well...no. But it can't be that hard. I've been around a few hundred years, surely I can figure out how to fix a bloody window." What he meant to say (if he had the balls) was that he would be more than happy to learn how to fix a window for you. It would give him an excuse to hang around, it would keep him in your good graces for a solid month, and he wouldn't have to break an entering anymore. Granted, his preferred place of entry had long been broken and he could always come through the front door, but it was a matter of principle.
You looked him up and down, trying to decipher if this was a set up for a joke or if he was actually serious, but he kept his head down. He hadn't been able to blush since he was a human, but the habit had a way of rearing its head for you.
He was so pretty too. With his high cheekbones and the way the warm light made his complexion look less ghastly. As ironic and cliche as it would be to say, he looked slightly angelic. Like one who fell from Heaven and donned the dark and mysterious charade to make it hurt less. He would burn away under a cross just to make it back to Heaven. Nearly break his spine falling out of windows and bleed out taking stabs if it meant he was closer to your doors. If there was one thing Spike did well, it was devotion.
"You wouldn't even know where to start. I'll just call Xander or something."
"What're you gonna do that for!"
"Because, Spike," you laughed incredulously, confused as to if this was going to become an argument or form a chip on his shoulder. "If I want something fixed, I'm going to call someone who does it for a living."
"But would Xander do it for free?"
"Would you?"
"I wouldn't charge anything of monetary value." You snorted, not surprised at all with his answer.
"You are such a whore, you know that?"
"What can I say, baby?" He leaned against the door frame of your bathroom, where you stood staring at your reflection in the mirror. He was happy that his nonexistent reflection could betray him. He was grateful to be a part of this routine - your routine- in a way that didn't disrupt your peace. It was soft. Almost domestic.
You were so meticulous about the way you scrubbed your face and brushed your teeth. He liked how when you took off your makeup the glitter remained. You sparkled at the right angles, really fucking sparkled. Of course, he was going to sit and stare at you; mascara still not completely wiped away, hair tied back with a fuzzy headband, lips agitated from being bit throughout the day. It was poetic. Second nature to him. He didn't need to breath, but it came to him then, overwhelming and filling his lungs like water until he was full as he stared at you in the mirror with not even his own reflection to judge him.
"I'm gonna hop in the shower."
"How rude, without me?" Damn, he sounded like a bloody idiot. You only looked him up and down, trying to appear deeply disgusted but stopped just shy of mildly annoyed.
"Get out of my apartment before I stake you." You slammed the bathroom door in his face, hiding your blush behind the wood.
"That's not a no." His voice is muffled behind the door, and as much as you'd like to believe he didn't hear it, you did laugh.
***********************************************************
Spike had to have been a cat in a previous life, is what you decided when you found him still on your bed, nose in some magazine he found pretending to care about the newest Natasha Denona palette.
"That crypt must be uncomfortable as hell for you to still be here." You skated around your room to sink beside him. He reaches across his side to pull out a bottle of water and hands it to you.
"Your showers are hot as hell; I'm surprised you didn't pass out in there." He flips through the pages nonchalantly, pretending not to be incredibly fixated at the water dripping from the nape of your neck and disappearing into your shirt.
"You would've loved that, wouldn't you? Getting to play 'knight and shining armor' while I'm conveniently naked." The sound waxy pages being torn was a surprise. So much of you and his banter was contingent on the assumption that neither of you meant anything serious so nothing would become anything.
Spike, who spent most of his mortal adult life swallowing his feelings until his stomach became an endless chasm where his feelings went to fester rather than die, was more than okay with this unspoken arrangement. Sarcasm was a second language to you. You were used to your words not mattering, especially since in your group of friends, your existence seemed to matter far less than everyone else's. You wondered if that was why you and Spike got along so well.
He just got you. Maybe a side effect of him being around you whenever he could. He just got you. In a stupid way. In an annoying way. The kind of way that made you worried that reading minds was also one of his vampiric powers. He wormed his stupid way into your brain, slithering around in his own sort of Spike way til you didn't know where his influence began.
He did sort of have this hypnotic way of speech. Maybe because he was a poet. Poets have to have some sort of hypnotic power, right? Surely, there was some connection between rhythms and brain waves that made the effect of Spike's voice so persuasive. Maybe it's not the rhythm and it's just the honesty. Ironic, since the basis of your "relationship" was built on never assuming that the other meant what they said, but who cares. It gave you guys flavor. Something to keep things interesting.
"I'll have you know; I am a very old-fashioned guy with manners." You snorted as his response. He talked about his "old-fashioned" ways a lot. Maybe to convince you that he was a gentleman. Gentleman your ass, you'd seen what he kept in his crypt.
"My deepest apologies for assuming that a guy that used railroad spikes as a murder weapon of choice wouldn't be above jumping at the opportunity to see me naked."
"Am I that transparent?"
"When it comes to mirrors, yeah." His scoff was lost in the sound of a car horn going off across the street. Damn, you needed a new place. He had complained to you about the noise before. If you didn't leave near a busy street, he would try his luck spending the night far more than he already did. Each blare deepened the scowl on his face as he flinched at the sound, even louder from where he sat in front of it.
"Those death buggies have to be the worst thing to come out of the 20th century. So obnoxious, and for what?"
"I imagine they are more convenient than horse drawn carriages."
"Yeah, more convenient and not even half the charm." He turned his head to gaze out the window. "It's not even a nice car! I'd rather ride around in the fucking Angel Mobile than drive around in that thing."
"You are so dramatic. Usually I just," you swing your leg over his waist, straddling and reaching over to close the window. He swallowed hard at the feeling of your chest pressing against the magazine, the only boundary between him and you, and the nonchalance of the action. "Shut the window." You felt him tense beneath you, his right hand awkwardly meeting your hip, blue eyes staring up at you through dark eyelashes. "Then again, I'm not a pansy who needs complete silence to sleep."
He cleared his throat before he spoke. "I sleep in a cemetery, love, ain't much noise around those parts." His eyes wandered everywhere they could but the worst part about beautiful people is that there is no unsightly place to avert your gaze. He couldn't stare at your gorgeous eyes, or your stunning nose, or your lips to distract himself from the steadily growing boner that you were sitting right on top of. You were no better than he was.
Within the context of the unspoken agreement, this meant absolutely nothing. The boner was just a normal reaction, that didn't have to mean anything. The way he was looking at you was a bit hard to ignore, but that was the way he always looked at you. He was a lot closer right now, sure, but that stupid lovesick look that you have spent years trying to ignore, totally just a joke. Not real at all. A trick of the light, in fact. The hard-on was very real though.
After sitting there for a few seconds too long, you shift your weight to move back to your side of the bed, but his hands keep you in your place. " 'm cold", he mutters, his thumb rubbing circles between where your shorts meet your bare skin.
"Yeah?" You feel him pressing up against your core. "I didn't think you could get cold."
" Me either but-", you lowered yourself completely on his clothed dick and the groan he let out was salacious. "Here we are." The frigid way he moved made his lie believable. Incredibly cautious, hesitant. No idea what to do with himself. He ran his hands along your thighs, up and down your side, one cold hand sliding underneath your shirt, rubbing the hem of it between his pointer finger and his thumb.
You leaned forward, warm breath fanning against his nose. It smelled like mint. You smelled like some sort of cocoa butter. Smooth and soft on top of him and he didn't know if you were going to roll right off or melt into his skin. Your hands come to the sides of his face, and you stare intently at him. He felt like he was under a microscope with the way you looked at him like you were committing each detail of him to memory so that even when you closed his eyes, it was still him burning in the forefront of your mind.
"You gonna kiss me?" You whispered, pressing yourself further into him. He let out a breathy laugh.
"What, a guy's always gotta make the first move?" With that, you leaned down to give him what was meant to be a quick peck. A tester. A tease. But when you give Spike an inch, he takes a mile, and he took the opportunity to devour you. Mouth open, sloppy, wet kisses while his hands worked as eagerly as his tongue did. You were a calming presence, slow and sane as you grabbed fistfuls of his shirt to try and ground the both of you.
Breathing through your nose, you inhaled him. The faint smell of smoke, the fresh smell of whatever he washed the gel from his hair with, the distinctly Spike musk. Your thighs wrapped him more closely, subtly grinding into his lap, ignoring the slight burn on your knees from the friction between them and your sheets. His large hands covered swathes of skin, cooling you where you grew too hot from his touch. When he had his fill, he broke away from you, still nose to nose, a string of saliva still between the two of you.
"Do you wanna spend the night?" Your voice was somehow meek as if there was any way in hell he would say no to you. He breathed out, turning his head into the crook of your neck, leaving searing kisses on your silky skin, worshipping at his altar, and thanking who or whatever got him here tonight. He kisses you from your neck, along your jawline, to the corner of your lips.
"Yes", he whispers against your skin. He bucks his hips into you, the imprint of his cock and the rough material of his jeans kissing your pussy through the thin layers of material. You nearly choke on his tongue at the feeling. Fuck.
Your eyes are closed, hips moving furiously against his, too blissed out to even care about the steadily growing wet patch in your underwear. You're lost in kisses, kisses that overwhelm and confuse and steal your breath until you wonder how much you need to breathe anyway. Along with not needing to breathe, you learned they must have incredible resolve. He chases you. Not like how a wolf chases a lamb but how the sun chases the moon.
He pulls and you push for breath, some sort of reprieve, some time for your mind to catch up with your body because right now everything but the way the seams of his jeans catch your clit is one of the only things on your mind. He pulls you, still, his hands squeezing at your waist, moving up to cup your breasts, thumbing at your nipples, and flicking the already hard peaks. And you push, still, not in protest but in harmony. Your hips pressing down, his jerking up. Your hands tugging his hair, his squeezing your waist. It was good. It was so good.
"What is the point", he starts breathlessly, "of these damn shorts if they're so thin. You're leaking right through, love." He smiles against you, sharp teeth grazing against your cheek as he smirks.
"Take 'em off me then." For once in his life, he takes his time. The desperation of his prior movements forgotten as he looks at you as he trails a finger from your chest down between the valley of your breasts, to your navel. He draws invisible shapes along your stomach, diamonds, hearts, and letters spelling m-i-n-e. And he stalls there. Looking from beneath you, smug as you ground yourself onto his dick in an attempt to move him along.
He was amused. Fascinated. You in your own world, mewling, moaning, putting on a show just for him. Choosing to ignore how sticky your panties had gotten, how much they stuck to your cunt as you wiggled your hips as if you could get any closer. Your tits moving with you, the way your mouth was slightly agape, the way you keened when you rubbed against him just right. It was no motivation for him to move his hands at all, not when it was much more rewarding to angle his hips up and make you see stars. "You gonna cum like this?" He crooned, full of fake sympathy.
"You're really gonna make me get myself off." You rolled your eyes, maybe out of pleasure, maybe out of faux annoyance. Either way, his hand slithered to the waistband of your shorts and dipped even deeper. He left feather-light touches on your clit which sent jolts of electricity up your spine. Overcome with the tightening feeling in your belly, your hands grabbed at his shoulders as your hips worked and worked you snapped. Impossibly wet and dazed, you rocked into him until the high had passed and the stars had left from behind your eyelids leaving only Spike.
His fingers still, in your panties, he moves to slide them and your shorts off your body. You hover slightly, still too sensitive to rub your bare pussy against him. You fidget with the button of his jeans and zipper, Spike's hands coming to cover yours to ease the shakiness. Maybe to give the appearance that he was much calmer than he was. He was painfully hard, and you felt it when you palmed him through his boxers after getting his pants down enough. Where his tip sat was a wet spot. You smirked.
"Did I get your dick that wet?" A shiver went down his spine. The heat from your palm was felt through his boxers. Your hand was barely big enough to cover it. Before either of you was prepared for it, he flipped you on your back. His hands sat on either side of your head while yours removed him from his boxers. He was so big.
You tore your gaze away from his cock to meet his gaze. He still looked at you the same. Pupils widened from lust, cheeks with a slightly pink tinge, lips puffy, eyes looking down at you with the same look they always had. It's then he leans down to kiss you for the millionth time. No urgency, less messy, a kiss like he was trying to wake you from a thousand-year slumber.
Your hand still on his cock, you pumped it a few times, swiping your thumb against his tip to lubricate his dick. He groaned into your mouth, humming in pleasure. You try to line him up to sink in your hole, but he slaps you on the wrist. "Don't want your cunt tonight," he mumbled in between kisses, "Jus' let me feel you."
He pumped his cock a few times before slotting it in between the meat of your thighs. The veins and ridges of his dick would occasionally slide between your folds, but that wasn't the focus. No matter how much you wiggled for him to plant his cock so far deep it kissed your cervix, you were ignored as he squeezed your thighs together, panting as he fucked them.
The juxtaposition made your head dizzy. The softness with which he kissed you and the fervor of his dick between your thighs, them getting wetter with the accumulation of precum leaking from his dick. It only forced him to press harder, leaving handprints from how hard he gripped. "Such a pretty thing, aren't you." He sighed out, his pace still even but his breaths far from it. "Go ahead and touch that pretty cunt f' me."
As much as your brain wasn't working, it wasn't needed to do what you were told. Bleary-headed, your hand traveled from the outside of your leg to between your folds. Still wet from your previous orgasm, it didn't take much to just slip a couple fingers in, moaning as you did. One hand toyed with your tit as the other toyed with your clit, your hips wanting to buck into your hand had it not been for Spike's palm on your stomach.
Had he had the composure, he would have made some sarcastic comment. Slow down, love, what's the rush, is what he would've said had his thrusts not been as sloppy as they were. He pulled away from your lips to see the mess he was making. White beads pooled on the skin of your stomach, dripping down your thighs like liquid pearls. And you. Low warm light bouncing off your skin, lip tucked in your teeth, staring right up at him. It took all of him not to cum at the sight.
Not before you did, he decided, which by the way your moans pitched up wasn't that far away. Each "accidental" slide into you was met with a jerk of your hips. "Stop it", you squealed, the bucking of your hips screaming otherwise.
"Feels too good, doesn't it." Then he did it again. His large hand drifts around before grabbing your abandoned tit, groping it until you hit your limit again. Your chest heaved unevenly as you tried to catch your breath as Spike's hips sped up, stuttered, then stopped as his cum splashed on your stomach and breasts.
Spent and not knowing what to do, he kisses you again. He smiles into it, and to his surprise, you do too. Like it was the only thing that made sense to do. The fuzz gradually fades from your mind, the noise from the multiple fans running and the faint humming of electricity apparent again. There's a breeze coming in from your window and you giggle.
"Are you still cold?"
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specialagentlokitty · 4 months
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Spike x reader - my good thing
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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
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readingbookelf · 1 month
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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
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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.
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jinxthequeergirl · 2 years
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Back at it again heres
What Dating Popular Vampires Sounds like:
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David:
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Michale:
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Jerry Dandrige:
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Lestat:
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Louis:
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Dracula:
(Idk what drac ya'll prefer so i went with the og)
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Shirin:
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Spike:
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Angel:
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676 notes · View notes
writings-n-stuff · 1 year
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The Perfect Moment (Part 2)
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Pairing: Spike x (gender neutral) Human!Reader
Words: 1,714
Summary: Weeks after their first kiss, the reader finds themselves back in Spike’s crypt. Will Spike be able to overcome his fear of hurting them, or will their perfect moment together stay locked in the past?
Content Warning: kissing, angst, mention of death, mention of turning into vampire
Note: This definitely feels kind of erotic
Part 1
Once again, you didn’t notice that you were sneaking out of your house until the night air was brushing against your cheeks. Your mind catching up with your body, you noticed you were already at the edge of the cemetery, already making the beeline for Spike’s crypt. The night air was chilly on your skin, the thin flannel of your pajama pants offering little warmth in the dark breeze.
These days you were on auto-pilot: responding in one-word phrases, looking distantly away, head in the night air you’d shared with Spike that night you two kissed.
This isn’t safe.
You scurried between the rows of headstones, eyes at the door of Spike’s crypt. Your usual prickly feeling of fear was absent this time, exhaustion and desperation making your feet sluggish and your mind foggy. You imagined the flicker of candles at the edges of the stone room, the slight smell of lavender, his jacket’s soft leather. Spike had to be there, and he had to hear you out. 
The past few weeks had been hell for you. Nothing could keep your mind off of the moment he looked away, silently asking you to leave. The way his hand rested at your neck. Your lips tingled whenever you thought of it; your eyes watered whenever you thought of it for too long. 
People were starting to notice your weird behavior. Even as that smell of death and something else had subsided, your dejected nature sparked a whole new worry. At school, your friends awkwardly ignored this change in demeanor, instead chattering over your wilting figure at lunch and between classes. Your mom had insisted you accompany her on an errand the day before, poking and prodding at your single-syllable responses, trying to figure out whether your blatant disinterest was some “call for help” she’d read about in a self-help book. All you wanted was to talk about Spike with someone, anyone, and know that you weren’t slowly drifting away. You needed to know that you were still real.
No matter how hard I tried, I still hurt you.
Ever since that night, you’d lie awake in your bedroom, hoping that he’d come to your window in some perfect timeline. That the rusting of the wind against your window was him; you’d turn your head and there he would be, asking politely to be let inside.
He still wanted you, you knew. There was no way that he didn’t. Spike had been thinking of kissing you and more for so long; this needed to be as tough on him as it was on you. Replaying his words couldn’t help the wall that he raised between the two of you.
You entered the crypt without knocking, too scared to linger in the cemetery to knock and wait. Your heartbeat crept up your throat--there was no way he couldn’t know you were coming.
It was all too loud: your footsteps, the lavender rustling in the air with your entrance, the sound of glass clinking against each other, this isn’t safe, this isn’t safe, this isn’t safe hammering around in your head. You imagined the worst things before lifting your eyes, scanning the dimensions of Spike’s living space. Your mouth went dry as you weighed every possible bad outcome. Many of them ended with your corpse lying on the cold, stone floor.
And there he was, bottle and glass in his hands, turned away from you while he paced ten steps or so, turned and paced again. He seemed lost, eyes miles away while his body remained right in front of you. 
A beat passed while you watched him, and you lightly stumbled as you tried to move forward. Swearing under your breath, you caught yourself and tried to remain calm while brushing yourself off. You looked up, right into Spike’s bright, shocked eyes. 
You could have stood there all night, just looking at him and wanting him closer. Your legs trembled at the thought of running to him, but you weren’t sure how to act. Spike was standing there, face illuminated by the candle light in the most wonderful way, looking at you like you were the only thing in the world. Hell, he was the only thing in your world. 
No matter how hard I tried, I still hurt you.
You stepped forward. “Spike-” you said hoarsely. You had to catch your breath, the damp crypt air pressed reassuringly against every part of your body. 
“Love,” he mumbled, his face breaking composure as he seemed to tear up. Could vampires cry? “Oh, love.” He noticeably swayed before setting down the bottle and glass on the nearest table, eyes fixed surely on you. “Oh, you’re here. You’re here.” 
All worry melted away instantly. Your feet carried you across the room perfectly, and you tried to melt right into Spike’s arms. He’s all you’d thought about for days turning into weeks, and here he was, right in front of you. He was not some dream you conjured at your bedroom window. He was all of a sudden very real and very much here, finally. 
At the last second, Spike turned away from your embrace. He almost crouched away from you, refusing your touch. “I can’t, love.” He shook his head, wrenching a hand through his platinum blonde hair, fighting with himself. “I can’t do it, love.”
His regret fell in a thick barrier between the two of you. He was replaying the last time he’d seen you in his head once again for the thousandth time. It made him sick, the round and round, until he had to find various ways to forget. But you didn’t want to forget, and neither did he.
Your chin trembled, torn. “Spike, please. I want to try again.” You stepped back into his line of vision, however influenced by alcohol it was. “I want to try this again,” you said firmly, attracting his eyes back into your gaze. They called your attention, pools of emotion that invited you in. “Spike, I want you.” You held your hands out to him, palms up in invitation.
Spike’s gaze moved between your hands and your eyes. He was contemplating, still so burdened by his obvious power to hurt you. To kill you. He was terrified of the likelihood of his being a vampire becoming the very thing that destroys you both. He already let it get out of his hands once, and he was afraid to take that risk again. 
But deep down, Spike wanted you so badly. He wanted to make you happy, to feel your love softly tickle his cheeks. He wanted to give you all that he knew he could--he knew he could please you so well, and he wanted to give himself that chance.
He ran another hand through his hair, obvious conflict in his eyes. “I want you too, love. I just can’t hurt you again. I can’t do that to you.” He leveled his eyes with you, seeing the very real possibility of killing you. “This isn’t safe.”
You continued to hold your hands out to him, wanting him closer. You thought again now that you were deadly to him as well. That you were deadly to him--your absence would break him if it didn’t already. “I know, Spike,” you said softly, gently moving to touch his chin. “But I trust you. And you need to trust me, too.”
He stared at you, kept his face still as your fingers met his face. He took in your words, weighed them clumsily in his mind. His jaw trembled as your fingers caressed his cheek, his temple, brushed his hairline. 
Spike said nothing, just kept himself in check while you moved to comfort him. The cold, still air of the crypt wrapped you up in its grip. You would find yourself here eventually, either as a corpse or as the undead. The thought had crossed your mind over the months you’d spent seeing him; this possibility had never felt as real as it did now. 
You brought your other hand to his face, too, holding him in your eyes. He was tortured with the thought of losing you, and he was terrified of the thought of hurting you again. “I know you won’t hurt me. Can we just try again?”
A beat, two beats, three. The seconds lingered on as he stood in front of you, gears turning over that word, try.
Can we just try again?
Spike’s hands met your own, held them as they cradled his face. His soulless body still asked for yours, full of life and open for his answer.
He moved one had away from his face, and your stomach almost dropped with the possibility of rejection. But he turned his head, kissed your fingertips, breathing out a sigh. Kissed them again, he nodded once. “Once more, love. Just once.”
And you sighed too, your lips curving into a smile. He caught your eye, a sad smile glimmering back. “Softly,” he said, “slowly. Will you kiss me again, my love?”
And you did, a shiver running from the nape of your neck to your toes. You stepped forward and tilted your head up to meet his lips. Your kissed the corner of his lips, drinking in the smile etched into his features softly as he met your own. He held your face, your neck, leaning into your touch and staying. Something opened back up in him too, and he finally held you close once again. He slipped one hand around your waist, bringing your bodies flush against each other. 
You knew that you wanted to feel this again, and you’re glad that you didn’t imagine that he wanted this again, too.
Melting into each other, you and Spike moved as one being, something alive and something dead that lingered in between. He grazed his lips along your jaw, over your cheek, down your nose, kissing your face and feeling it again. “Oh, my love. You’re absolutely perfect,” he whispered, eyes flitting up to meet yours. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” left your lips, rang in your ears, deafening against his words from that night before. You didn’t want to let go, and he didn’t either.
Somehow, the perfect moment met you again.
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smartycvnt · 4 months
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Creature of the Night*
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Title: Creature of the Night
Summary: Faith sneaks away to hook up with Ash.
Warnings: smut, bottom faith, top reader, oral (f receiving)
Word Count: 956
Faith hated being stuck in the same place. Sunnydale attracted its fair share of evil freaks, which was great, but Faith was still bored. There wasn't nearly as much for her to do with Buffy there. Maybe Faith wouldn't have minded things so much if it was just Buffy, but the nerd herd grated on her nerves. She couldn't just go out and do her thing with them constantly breathing down her neck.
They forced her to be too good. Faith knew that as a slayer, her alignment was on the "good" side, but still. Faith liked being a rebel. She had always been a bit of a troublemaker. Two slayers was a mistake, and maybe, just maybe, she wasn't really meant to be a slayer.
"These stupid little posters don't do you justice," Ash said as she dropped down from a tree branch. Faith glanced up at the tree above her. There was no telling how long Ash had been waiting up there for Faith to arrive. They had made these plans weeks ago, but Faith kept backing out. She'd never admit it, but a part of her was afraid to be alone with Ash.
"I'm not really interested in your lines," Faith said as she grabbed onto the lapels of Ash's jacket. Ash opened her mouth to protest that move, but Faith kissed her instead. Faith had heard all about Ash's authentic and ancient fashion from when she was turned. Ash had a tendency of talking about things that didn't really matter, so Faith had learned a lot during the brief period of time that Ash had helped them out.
"You're not interested in courting, I know. I wasn't when I was alive, either." Ash smirked. Faith went in for another kiss, this one heavily reciprocated by Ash. It was a bit odd kissing a vampire, but Faith was into it. The coolness of Ash's lips was like a little shock. Although, Faith had begun to find a lot about Ash shocking as they got to know each other better.
Faith could only imagine how far ahead of her time socially Ash must have been. According to Angel, Ash hadn't changed one bit since they had first met hundreds of years before. If anything, Angel claimed that Ash had only grown a little tamer throughout the years. Every so often, Faith could understand what he meant by some of the things that Ash said.
"This is a very interesting use of leather," Ash said as she ran her hands along the inside of Faith's thighs. Faith's breath hitched when Ash's fingers brushed against the inseam of her jeans just a little harder than they had elsewhere. Faith was not the type of girl that wanted to wear frilly dresses or anything of the sort, but she wondered about the ways that Ash would have gotten underneath the skirt of her dress to do this.
Faith glanced down at Ash, who was kneeling down in between Faith's spread legs. It was utterly intoxicating to have such a powerful creature focusing solely on pleasuring her. Faith's head would have been spinning if not for the tree bark digging into her back. There would be marks in the morning, ones that Faith wouldn't even bother to explain away to the Scoobies.
"No matter how much some things change, others will always stay the same," Ash muttered to herself. She tugged Faith's pants down just enough to get to what she wanted. There was no way for Faith to move away now, not that she could ever think of it. Faith would have stayed pinned to that tree forever if she could.
"Fuck," Faith moaned. She had a fistful of Ash's hair and tugged it hard enough to get the vampire to hiss. Faith wondered if Angel and Buffy's little love affair was nearly as hot as hers. She doubted it. She doubted that Angel got on his knees like this to service Buffy, or that Buffy would even let him.
Angel seemed far too proud, still stuck in an old fashioned mindset. Ash wasn't submissive by any means, but she knew what she liked doing. Faith had seen Ash feed on someone once, and it wasn't nearly as enthusiastic as this. Still, when Ash looked up at Faith, her face glistened in a similar way that it had before. Only the blood had been replaced with arousal.
Faith felt a tightening in her stomach as she thought about how Ash had looked while feeding. Ash seemed to pick up on Faith's second wave of arousal. Instead of bringing her mouth back to Faith's wanting cunt, she opted to use her fingers instead. Ash's fingers kept a fast and strong rhythm of thrusts mixed with just enough subtle curls for Faith's second orgasm to take her by surprise.
She clamped her hand down around her mouth to keep quiet as she came. Ash let Faith drop forward onto the grass. Faith pressed her lips to Ash's for a kiss, one that was just as messy and broken as she felt. Ash kissed back, nipping slightly at Faith's bottom lip hard enough to draw a little blood. Faith let her lap it up, and once the small cut had stopped bleeding, Ash had vanished into the night.
"Typical," Faith muttered to herself as she fixed her pants. She gave a quick little look around of the area before she moved on. The group was surely waiting up for her, and Faith knew that she was already on pretty thin ice with most of them. The last thing Faith wanted was to get booted out and have to leave Ash in Sunnydale until it was safe to come back again.
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rip-quizilla · 1 month
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You Could Kill Me (and You Should)
Pairing: Vampire!Eddie Munson X Slayer!Reader
Word Count: 16k
Tags: SMUT🔥🔥🔥, dubious consent, memory alteration, reader's pronouns aren't specified, reader has a vagina, oral sex, p in v sex, blood drinking, blood kink, unprotected sex, squirting, dom/sub undertones, vampire sex, references to Buffy the Vampire Slayer (but you don't have to be familiar to understand this story)
A/N: please read the tags! This work contains depictions of blood and VERY adult content. Minors, do not interact!
Bat divider made by @saradika ❤️
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Hunting on game nights was never ideal. 
There were too many people around… the double-edged sword of vampire hunting. The great throngs of people made it easy for a poor soul to get lost in the fray, so it brought the baddies out into the open. On the flip side of that coin, what made an ideal hunting ground for vamps created a field of landmines for a Slayer. Throngs of people meant infinite chances to get caught in the open with a wooden stake in your hand, and that brought too many questions. 
Still, you could deal with humans; you had been your whole life. Hawkins, Indiana was just like any other town- people would believe what they wanted to believe, and you knew exactly how to spin a story into something they’d find acceptable. 
However, if you got caught out in the moonlight with the specific vamp you were hunting, you knew you’d attract the wrong kind of attention. You wanted to fly under the radar here; it was the only way you’d be able to live here long enough to stave off the influx of demons that liked to slip in time to time from the Upside Down- the hell that waited on the other side of this reality. Not every town was as connected to it as Hawkins was, but then again, not every town sat on top of a Hellmouth. 
A sound from behind you perked up the hairs at the back of your neck. You turned, making sure the brick wall of Hawkins High protected your back as you surveyed the empty courtyard before you. Everyone within a mile radius who still had a beating heart was in the gym, cheering on the Hawkins Tigers in hopes that the subpar basketball team might actually take home a win tonight. 
Well… everyone except for you, whose heart was beating alarmingly fast for someone who had slain so many bloodsuckers that you’d lost count. Why were you this nervous? Aw, who were you kidding, you knew why.
You weren’t hunting just any vampire this time. You were hunting Eddie Munson. 
You steadied your turncoat heart with a slow, deep breath. “Stop kidding around, Munson,” you said, keeping your voice low and eerily calm. “You know why I’m out here and I know you’ll only hurt me if you have to, so let’s just cut the formalities and have a little chat.”
A rumbling chuckle sounded from above, and when your eyes flicked up to the sky they were met with the sight of the most elusive and cunning vamp you’d ever had the displeasure of hunting. 
Eddie Munson. Or, as he was known amongst the town’s community of bloodsuckers, Kas the Bloody Handed. 
“Little chat, huh?” Eddie’s smiling voice echoed from where he sat on the edge of the rooftop above you. “Put away the stake and we’ll talk, Slayer.”
You kept your eyes on him, narrowing your gaze but complying nonetheless. You pocketed the stake, shifting your brown leather jacket to the side and sliding the wooden spike into your waistband. 
Were you dealing with any other vamp, you would have laughed in their face at the demand that you disarm yourself when vampires had nearly every advantage against you. You had Slayer strength, sure- but that was it. These demons had speed, strength, teeth, claws- the fact that sunlight would incinerate them was really their only weakness besides their need for blood. 
Correction- sunlight should incinerate them. Sunlight didn’t affect Eddie Munson. That wasn’t the only thing that didn’t seem to affect him- bloodlust was apparently not an issue either, seeing how he was a student. At a high school. A building just teaming with sweaty, hormonal teens who were just itching to do something stupid- one would assume that a vampire in a place like that would be draining cheerleaders left and right, but not Eddie. In fact, you’d been watching him for months now since you moved to Hawkins, and you’d never even seen him hurt a fly. Hell, you’d seen kids try and beat him up and yet he hadn’t so much as made a fist since the first time you laid eyes on him. 
That was why you’d sought him out tonight- this vampire wasn’t killing people, and it was making you suspicious. 
Once your weapon had been safely tucked away, Eddie hopped down from his insane height at the top of the school building and landed swiftly and quietly on his feet in front of you. He smiled at you lazily, his eyes twinkling with the curiosity and glee that came with sharing a secret.
“Excuse my forwardness, but I’ve gotta know-” Eddie began, hands in his pockets as he slowly sauntered toward you. “-how long did I have you going before you figured me out?” 
You pushed off the wall, casually placing your hands behind your back as you matched his stride in the opposite direction. You were circling each other, two predators locked in a deadly dance. 
“You’re a pretty good actor, Munson.” you replied, voice lighter than air but balanced out by the unwavering rock-solid gaze that remained locked on him. “I might not have figured it out at all if your friend at the hospital hadn’t spilled the beans.”
That got his attention. “Annie ratted me out?” His eyebrows were practically synonymous with his hairline. “Impossible.”
You shrugged. “Apparently HIPAA laws don’t apply to secret bloodbag dealers and their demon customers. In her defense, she was pretty tight-lipped until I had convinced her I wasn’t trying to kill you.”
That stopped Eddie in his tracks. He peered at you through his curtain of moonlit curls, his gaze suspicious and unsure. “You’re not?” 
You stood squarely before him at ease. “Nope.” you replied brightly. “And I don’t think you’re trying to kill anyone either… are you, Kas?”
His suspicion gave way to a blinding smile. “Well someone’s been doing their research!” You blinked and he was inches away, his enhanced speed catching you off guard; you instinctively took a step back before instantly regretting it. Eddie caught your momentary lapse in stature and his grin crept upwards in one corner. “Tell you what, killer, how ‘bout we put a pin in all your fun little Kas facts and cut to the chase, hm?” 
In a flash his hand held your chin firmly. Your grip flew to the back of your waistband, fingertips already caressing the smooth wood of your stake. You mirrored each other, the two of you standing in a twin stance with one foot placed in front of the other a shoulder’s width apart, his hand at your jaw and yours ready to stake the bastard at the first sign of a threat. 
“You’re here to protect people,” Eddie continued, “and I don’t plan on hurting anyone. We can coexist here, it isn’t that complicated.”
“I’m here to slay vampires.” You corrected, but Eddie only grinned and shook his head. 
“See, that’s not true- you would have killed me already.” He leaned in, a smug smile only taking up more space on his countenance. “Ain’t that right, Slayer?”
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You’d expected that the decision to let Eddie live would come back to bite you in the ass, but surprisingly enough, nothing changed. 
You went to school. You hunted. You did normal teenager things. Not once did you witness Eddie Munson do a single thing out of the ordinary. 
Well…out of his ordinary. For a bloodsucking demon hiding among human teenagers, he liked attention far more than you’d expected. The more you thought about it, however, the more you saw his reputation for being the town freak as a genius cover. He was hiding in plain sight; any weird behavior would simply be written off as a cry for attention from Hawkins’ resident eccentric. If he wanted to, Eddie could be getting away with a lot more than stolen blood bags. 
So why wasn’t he?
You wanted answers, and surprisingly enough you had a feeling that it wouldn’t take too much for him to give them to you. You just needed to find a private place to ask him. Word travels like wildfire after a drought in Hawkins, and even if Eddie didn’t mind the attention, you on the other hand did. You couldn’t afford for people to start associating you with him, so you’d passed Eddie a note at lunch to meet you out in the woods at the old picnic table.
“Did you know I used to do drug deals in this exact place?” 
His voice sounded wistful as his body weight caused the weakened wooden bench to creak when he sat down with you later that afternoon. “Those were the days, man.”
You snorted. “You mean the days when you were human? Or are you a bloodsucker and a pill pusher? That’s an intersectionality I can’t say I’ve encountered before-”
“Back when I was human, smartass.” He cut you off, rolling his eyes. “Now, why did Hawkins’ shiny new vampire slayer invite me to meet in the middle of the woods? All alone?” he pretended to think it over for a second, feigning epiphany when his eyes widened and his brows shot up his forehead. His voice quivered, apparently auditioning to play the role of the victim in a slasher film. “Are you g-g-gonna k-k-kill me?” He braced his hands against the edge of the picnic table, scrambling to the ground as he amped up the drama while you watched, forcing a smile at bay. 
“P-p-please, don’t s-s-slay me, almighty S-Slayer!”
You snorted, shaking your head, unable to completely stop the ghost of a grin from sliding across your lips. “Having fun?” you snarked.
It took only a millisecond- in a blur of supernatural vampire speed, he was back up on his feet and sitting on the surface of the table. “Lots!” His smile was overwhelming- it was easygoing, unguarded, and above all things it was so human. It was disconcerting.
“The reason I asked you out here,” you said, getting down to business. “Is because I have some questions for you.”
The vampire’s eyes narrowed, that smile staying firmly planted on his lips. “I’m sure you do.”
“How can you be out in the sunlight without bursting into flames?” Every vampire you’d ever encountered would be reduced to ashes if they dared to step out the door in broad daylight, yet here was Eddie Munson- 100% bloodsucker, 100% sitting on a picnic bench and soaking up the rays that filtered in through the cover of tree branches. 
“I know a witch.” Eddie replied, eyes following you as you paced around the picnic table. “She did a spell. Next question?”
You raised an eyebrow, “Who’s the witch?”
“Not telling.” 
“I figured.” you lamented. “Do the blood bags satisfy you as much as fresh blood?” 
Eddie was quiet for a moment, then replied with a curt “They’re enough.”
“Enough to stave off the urge to- I don’t know- murder?”
His head whipped sharply in your direction, expression souring. “Have you seen me kill anyone? In all the time you’ve been here, have you ever seen me so much as harm someone?”
You paused. “No.”
Jutting out his chin triumphantly, he straightened his posture a bit. “Then stick to relevant questions, alright killer?”
You narrowed your eyes on him. “Your bloodlust isn’t relevant?”
He scoffed, tightening his grip on the edge of the tabletop he still sat on, and you could have sworn you heard the wood creaking beneath his white knuckles. “You may not be from Hawkins, but with that self-righteous, bigoted attitude you could’ve fooled me.” His head was hanging down, Eddie’s dark eyes trained on his Reebocks which dangled from where he sat.
When he looked up at you through his long, chestnut curls, the gaze he gave you was so disappointed, so intense, that you actually felt a pang of guilt even though you hadn’t done anything wrong. You’d accused a vampire of having bloodlust. What was there to feel guilty for?
“You’re a vampire, Munson. A demon.” you stated, matter of factly. “You need blood to survive, and you’re a killer by nature-”
“You’ve done more killing in this town than I have,” he laughed humorlessly, his voice tinged with exasperation. “-and I’ve lived here my entire life!” Eddie hopped off the tabletop, shaking his head. “I thought you wanted to have an actual conversation with me, but if you’re here to point out splinters and ignore the stakes, then I’m gone. Go interrogate some other vampire.” 
You stood your ground, watching Eddie walk back towards Hawkins High as you felt that guilt crawl into your chest and start to burrow there. 
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You found it ironic that the Hideout was known for both being the bar in town that never carded, and being the bar that vampires frequented the most. It resulted in a clientele that was either immortal or too young to be there. 
Your presence in town had slowed down vampire activity quite a bit, but apparently that hadn’t been enough of a deterrent to rid the dive bar of their undead customers for the night. After a few years of slaying, you’d learned how to distinguish between prey and predator- there weren’t too many people in the bar since it was a Tuesday night, but that only made it easier to single them out. 
You knew what to look for: eyes that swept the room to sort out the hierarchy of those present. Skin that lacked the plumpness and healthy complexion that came with blood running freely through the veins beneath. Behaviors that reflected an intention to single out the weak and alone before isolating them, going in for the kill. 
Unfortunately, they weren’t who you were here for. Tonight, your attendance wasn’t attributed to any run-of-the-mill vampires. 
Funny enough, you were here to see the band. 
You sipped on your glass of cranberry juice, watching warily as tonight’s headliner situated themselves on the small almost-stage in the corner of the tiny bar. Long dark curls shadowed eyes that followed you with equal wariness, unsure of why you were here but intrigued nonetheless. 
Sitting stationary at the bar with your glass sweating in your hand, you took in the spectacle before you- four boys who looked fairly human, setting the crowd ablaze with songs about nonconformity, rebellion, and hellish imagery. Funnily enough, humans and vampires alike were all watching them, heads bobbing to the thrum of the baseline, all of them united in their quest to distract themselves from life- or afterlife- for the night.
You’d always loved how music did that- it brought together folks of all shapes and sizes, political ideals, religions, backgrounds… and it gave them something to agree on. Music made people feel something. Whether you were alive or undead didn’t seem to matter; people loved to feel things.
To your chagrin, you found yourself tapping out the melodies along with the crowd, bouncing your knee in time with Eddie’s band’s music. They were- surprisingly- not bad. The place was small enough that even though you were seated at the bar, you were able to get a good look at each of the band members over the course of their set. You recognized some of them from school- Grant was a nice guy, you had some classes with him. Gareth was… shy? Standoffish? Either way, he kept to himself and away from everyone who wasn’t Eddie- typical behavior for a vampire. Now, seeing the pallor of his skin compared to the lively flush of his bandmates, you were all but sure he was a vampire; one of Eddie’s underlings, no doubt.
You’d figured out as much information about Eddie Munson’s standing in Hawkins’ vampire community as you thought you’d be likely to get, being a vampire slayer in a town fraught with vampires. He was the first to become a vampire the Hawkins way, and that afforded him a certain level of respect among vampires here. Other than that, you were flying blind. 
Vampires existed in many forms across the world- name a continent, and you could rattle off some fun facts about that region’s particular breed of bloodsucker. Some born, some made, some immortal, some not- and they all had their own particular set of characteristics that set them apart and made slaying even more complicated. Eddie Munson had been the first of a new breed of vampire, and that’s why your watcher had sent you here; not only to slay, but to collect data. 
The audience’s applause for Corroded Coffin’s final song faded into a dull chatter and the clinking of bar glasses, and your attention snagged on Eddie as you watched him amble off the stage in your direction. The other band members stayed where they were, shifting around as they began packing up their instruments. Gareth’s eyes stayed on Eddie, narrowing when they crossed over his shoulder and landed on you.
“Didn’t take you for a metal fan, Slayer.” Eddie murmured just loud enough for you to hear him over the din of noisy patrons. 
You shrugged, sipping from your glass. “I listen to a little bit of everything. You guys aren’t bad.” Eddie hopped up onto the stool beside you, nodding to the bartender in a silent exchange. A half second later, Eddie had a freshly opened can of PBR sweating in his hand. 
“Thanks.” He was eyeing you warily, sipping slowly from his can. “So what are you doing here?”
He didn’t bullshit around when there was an elephant in the room… you guessed you appreciated that. “I wanted to see you in your element.”
He snorted into his silver can. “In my element, huh? Wouldn’t that be -I don’t know- catching me in the act of ripping someone’s throat out? Draining the blood from a litter of kittens or something?”
A pang of guilt threatened to nudge its way through to your eyes, but you didn’t let it get that far. “No,” You replied, “you said it yourself, I’ve never actually seen you hurt anyone. Or even try, actually.”
His gaze was measured, eyeing you up and down as if scanning you for some indication that you were planning on staking him right here and now. You waited for him to speak but surprisingly he didn’t, so you continued.
“I’d like to propose a truce.” 
Eddie smirked slightly, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards enough to call into action the dimple hidden in his cheek. “Didn’t know we were fighting, I sure as hell haven’t been getting in your way, have I?”
You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you’re getting at? You want an apology?” As Eddie’s smirk grew wider, your mouth moved in the opposite direction, lips forming a hard, tense line as you glared at the smug bloodsucking bastard before you. 
“I’m a Slayer. I’ve traveled all over the world with the sole purpose of killing vampires just like you-”
“There are no vampires like me, sweetheart.”
You snorted. “Yeah yeah, you’re so unique, we’re all aware.” You downed the last swig of your drink. “Can I finish now?”
He nodded, that grin still growing along his lips. 
“Every vampire I’ve ever met has wanted to kill people. Forgive me for having my defenses up when I came across one that didn’t.” Eddie’s eyes softened, as did the corners of his mouth. His smug grin now seemed a little more understanding, and maybe a little sympathetic. That last bit made you bristle.
“I’m not saying this for your sympathy, I just want you to know where I was coming from when I made assumptions about your…”
“I believe the term you used was ‘bloodlust’?” Eddie supplied, his tone accusatory but not altogether unfriendly. 
You sighed heavily. “I made assumptions. I’m sorry about that.” 
Eddie tilted his head to the side, digesting your apology. Finally, “Buy a round for me and my band and I’ll forgive you.” 
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The stipulations of your truce were laid out the next day at lunch. You were able to convince Eddie to leave his cronies’ lunch table in the cafeteria in favor of a more private place to discuss your terms- the picnic table out in the woods. 
As per your side of the deal, Eddie would provide you a list of names of vampires that he knew followed the same lifestyle as him- purchase blood from his supplier at the hospital, go about their normal lives, and never harm a living soul. You would refrain from hunting any of them.
Eddie’s side of the deal: he promised not to interfere with the slaying of any vampires in town who didn’t subscribe to his way of life; in other words, if they tried to hurt a human or drink from any living animals in town, they were fair game for slaying. In addition, Eddie would provide you any information you needed about Hawkins Vampires, and you would relay that data to the Watchers’ Council for them to enter into their database. 
Unsurprisingly, Gareth Emerson’s name was at the top of Eddie’s list of vampires under his protection. When you saw it, you chuckled.
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Surprised?” 
“Not in the slightest.” you laughed. “The guy clings to your side like a guard dog and barely talks to anyone else. And he always looks like he’s on the verge of ripping someone’s throat out.”
Eddie couldn’t help but laugh along with you. “Well, in my defense, he was like that back in his human days too, I didn’t do that to him.” 
You peered over the list at the leather-clad vamp as he lit a cigarette. “But you did do the ‘vamparism’ thing to him?”
“Trust me, it wasn’t a premeditated decision.” Eddie may have sounded aloof, but you could tell that the words were strained. “I had only been…turned…for a couple of weeks at that point. I thought I could handle more human interaction than I really could.”
Your eyebrows jumped a fraction of an inch, but you tried to appear unphased. You hadn’t known too many vampires who could bite a human and manage to stop themselves before killing their victims at that phase of their afterlife. A vampire’s thirst could be nearly impossible to resist for the first few years after their transition, never mind the first matter of days. The fact that Eddie was able to bite Gareth without killing him was… impressive, to say the least. 
Regardless of how impressive it was, however, Eddie’s facial expression spoke volumes to you about how unimpressed he was by his choices at this particular moment in his history. You decided to air on the side of casual empathy. “Could have been a lot worse.” you said, voice soft but matter of fact. “Plus he has you to protect him.”
Eddie looked at you, eyes guarded and yet bursting at the seams with unshed secrets. You could tell there was so much more he wanted to say, but he settled for a simple, solid “Yeah.”
You didn’t pry. If you needed to know more, you’d find it out in due time, but for now you would settle for ‘yeah’. 
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The two of you fell into a strange dynamic as your truce was put into effect. For one thing, he made an effort to seek you out in the hallways more; it was troubling, to say the least. You didn’t want people in this town paying attention to you. If they started taking notice of your unusual habits- never getting involved at school, lurking in graveyards and dive bars late into the night, keeping to yourself instead of falling into a friend group like normal teenagers were supposed to- they might start keeping a closer eye on you. A closer eye on you meant a closer eye on the vampires in this town, and the Watcher’s Council would have your head if you became the proverbial Pandora to open the vampire box in Hawkins.
The point was, Eddie was an attention magnet, and his incessant need to interact with you in front of an audience made it difficult to fly under the radar in a town where gossip traveled faster than the average speed limit.
“Slayer!”
His calling you that in the middle of the hallway just after the final bell didn’t help things in the slightest. He was half-jogging through the throng of teens, dodging and weaving between bodies as he made his way to where you stood at your locker with wide eyes trained on the most obnoxious vampire you’d ever had the pleasure of knowing.
“Can you not call me that in the middle of a crowded hallway?” you hissed at him once he’d reached your side. In reality, you knew the chances were slim that anyone within earshot knew what a Slayer was, but you weren’t about to test that theory. 
“Sorry, killer.” Eddie quipped, shit-eating grin loud and proud on his beaming face. “Just wanted to catch you before you left without me.” 
You quirked an eyebrow. “Without you? What, are we carpooling now?”
“Yeah, unless you want to get drenched in the tempest going on out there, sweetheart.” 
Your mouth was open, poised to argue before Eddie wordlessly scooped up your backpack with effortless strength, shouldered it, and began marching down the crowded hallway. He didn’t even wait for you to close your locker, so you had to make quick work of grabbing your books and locking it shut before bumbling after him.
“Excuse me,” you huffed, power walking in an effort to keep up with his quick pace. “Is there something about me that screams ‘I need to carpool with Eddie Munson’? Because if there is, I will happily correct the issue.”
Eddie hop-skipped through the front doors of the school, threw a chuckling look over his shoulder at you, then took off running through the pouring rain in a straight shot to where his van was parked. 
You had no choice but to run in the same direction; he had your backpack. 
In a mad dash through the sky’s heavy onslaught, you shielded your head best you could until you made it to Eddie’s passenger door. The rolling percussion of raindrops on pavement was cut starkly short at the shut of your door, and you breathed a sigh of relief before swinging your head around to look at Eddie Smug-Faced Munson, scowling for all you were worth. 
“There are quite a few ways I can answer your question, Slayer, all of which could get me staked…” He twisted slightly to toss your backpack into the backseat, where it landed on a discarded t-shirt and a mess of paper and spiraled wire that must have been a notebook at some point. When Eddie turned back to you, your faces were mere inches from each other, both of you trusting the center console with your weight. Eddie’s movements stilled, his eyes flitting ever so quickly down at your barely-parted lips. 
You were close enough to hear his soft intake of breath. “Could be worth it, though.” 
Your cheeks heated, and you briefly wondered if vampires felt the stolen blood in their cold bodies rush to places in times of tension. Breaking eye contact, you crossed your arms over your chest, brushing your biceps and shoulders with your hands in an effort to warm your rain-drenched skin.
 “Just drive, Munson. I have a stake in my pocket with your name on it if you try anything.” 
Eddie shook his head, smirking widely. “And here I thought you were just happy to see me.” Shifting the car into drive, he expertly navigated his way out of the parking lot and onto the main road that would take you to the small apartment you currently lived in, courtesy of the Watchers’ Council. 
“You’re hunting tonight, right?” Eddie’s voice cut through the rain-spattered silence in the van, jerking your attention from the hypnotic sight of his struggling windshield wipers. 
“Yes?” Unintentionally, the answer sounded like a question.
“Take me with you.”
You snorted. “You, a vampire, want to go vampire hunting?” 
Eddie shrugged, keeping his umber eyes on the glassy road ahead. “Now that I know there won’t be any innocents on your hit list- yeah, sounds fun.”
You arched an eyebrow. “If I end up staking anyone tonight, you won’t stop me?” 
“Good vampire, remember?” he reminded you, placing a hand over his heart before flashing you a reassuring grin. “If somebody’s out there hurting people, I want them off the streets as much as you do.” 
And that was how you wound up with an undead hunting partner for your nightly patrol of Hawkins for malicious undead. 
Despite being the unlikely duo that you two were, you actually looked like a pair of vampire slayers on a usual patrol- the two of you both wearing combat boots and leather jackets to match. The only tell that this wasn’t your normal routine was the stark silence occupying the space between you. You ended up being the one to finally break it after the first few minutes of patrolling as the two of you strolled through the Hawkins’ cemetery.
“So if we run into some unsavory vampires tonight… how are you gonna kill them?”
“What do you mean, ‘how’?”
“I’m not letting you use my stakes.”
Eddie angled his head toward you, a grin dancing on his lips. “Aw, scared I’ll stake myself on accident, sweetheart?”
“Oh I would consider that a happy accident.” you matched his grin in stride, teasing the tip of your tongue through your teeth. 
“Aw, don’t say that! You know you’d miss me, baby.”
Baby?
You sped up your pace a fraction- just enough for him to leave your periphery. “I am not your baby.” You tried to laugh through your response, but it got caught in your throat, tangling with the words and straining them in a way that sounded less lighthearted than you’d intended.
“Well look at that, I found something that makes you nervous.” You could practically feel his smugness from your two steps ahead. 
“Nothing makes me nervous.”
“I do.” 
You scoffed, speeding up your pace. “You do not-”
In half a second he was in front of you, vampiric speed landing him directly in your way, forcing you to stop short. He was eyeing you down, arms crossed and lids squinted in concentration. “Why’s your heart rate getting faster, then?”
You huffed a breath into the cold air, sending wisps of heat to curl and dissipate as they hit Eddie’s solid form. “Annoyance. Rage. Could be a number of things along those lines.” You sidestepped him, marching forward purposefully. Eddie followed suit beside you.
“Along those lines, you say.” He mused. “Y’know, those lines in particular can get pretty blurry.”
Eddie paused, waiting for you to take the bait. He waited a long time before giving up on that, because under no circumstances did you plan on doing so. 
“The lines,” he continued, “between rage and other feelings of… equal passion.” 
“You saying you want me to more passionately say you annoy me, Munson?” You quipped, refusing to meet his eyes that were practically begging you to look his way. “I will, don’t tempt me.”
“I’m quite sure you’ll find I can be very good at tempting you, baby.”
You huffed, chin whipping to the side to give him a full view of your serious face. “Stop calling me baby.” You regretted looking his way immediately, because those dark eyes were staring you down with an intensity that caused the air to leave your lungs and your voice to falter.
“Yeah… y’know-” Eddie’s grin was shining in full force now, watching you like you were a puzzle he’d just made a breakthrough in solving. “I don’t think I’m going to do that. This is the first time I’ve seen you flustered.”
“Shut. Up.” You muttered, eyes focused on a newer-looking grave about ten feet from the two of you. 
“Hm, sounds like something a flustered person would say-”
“Eddie,” you hissed, already reaching for the stake in your back pocket. “Shut. Up.” 
It took him a second, but he followed your gaze and saw what had you shifting gears- the low, wet sound of something sucking, accompanied by the pat pat of excess blood as it dripped to the cold earth. Slightly obscured by the headstone you’d spotted, a vampire had found some unsuspecting soul to snack on. 
You held your wooden stake aloft, ready to strike. “Ready to watch the master at work?” you whispered under your breath.
Eddie matched your volume, whispering back an encouraging “Hell yeah, go get ‘em, baby.”
You rolled your eyes and sighed, carefully advancing “Just shut up and watch my back, Munson.”
“Oh I will gladly do that.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“I’m adorable.”
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You arrived home around dawn, just as the sun had begun to peek over the horizon and paint the morning in blushing shades of pinks and purples. Your apartment was a little efficiency located above a pawn shop downtown. The entrance was behind the building, which meant that there weren’t any snooping neighbors to watch you entering your home in the wee hours of the night. In a town like Hawkins, this kind of privacy was a valuable commodity.
Eddie had insisted on walking you home since it was so late- or early- which tickled you to no end since he’d just watched you take down a vampire pretty much single-handedly. He climbed the squeaking fire escape two steps behind you, stopping at the final landing as you began to unlock your door. 
“You can go now.” You told him curtly. 
“You’re not going to invite me in?” You almost laughed; he actually sounded hurt. He was a good actor.
“You act like I haven’t studied vampires every day since I became the Slayer.” You placed your hands on your hips, “As If I’m about to give you an all-access pass to my apartment.”
Eddie laughed, his chuckle a dark and musical thing. “Baby, if I was going to kill you, don’t you think I would have tried already?” His hand was resting on your doorway, blocking the light from the time-yellowed lamp that lit the left side of your doorway and caging you in with his shadow.  
“For all I know, this is you trying.” You stood your ground, arms crossed solidly across your chest, refusing to cower even though he was looking at you like he wanted to wrap his teeth around you.
He leaned forward ever so slightly, eyes heavy and hungry. “Do you think that’s what I’m trying to do?” His gaze flicked to your closed door and back to you in half a second. “You think if you walk through that door and invite me inside, I’m going to try to kill you?”
You studied him for a moment. “No.” You hadn’t meant for the word to come out in a whisper, but that’s what happened anyway.
Eddie’s gaze remained unmoved. “So you’ll invite me in?”
“No.”
A chuckle escaped through the crooked smile that invaded his lips. “So fucking stubborn. You know I can smell you, right?”
You raised an eyebrow, confused. Smell what? Did you work up a sweat fighting that vampire? There’s no way you smelled that bad-
“I can smell you, baby.” His lips were moving against your ear, brushing the little silver rings that decorated your cartilage. “You’re right, you shouldn’t let me inside. But I can smell how curious you are about what might happen if you do.”
You were suddenly very aware of how wet you were- you felt a rush of heat as a fresh wave of slick rushed through you, undoubtedly moistening your panties. He could smell that? You were frozen, at a loss for words that could adequately respond to his insinuation.
Before you could react, Eddie’s hand was on your face, gripping your jaw just tight enough to slightly purse your lips. You felt the cold bite of his silver rings on your skin, sending goosebumps trickling down your spine. He looked you in the eyes, his gaze growing deeper and darker, and you began to relax into his grip as you realized that he truly did not intend to hurt you. 
“You should invite me in.”
His eyes were so beautiful… how had you never noticed them before? They practically glowed… no, they actually glowed. They were like a neon fucking sign, bright and crimson and shining such a beautiful rose-hued glow that they looked more like rubies than irises.
Your lips moved to echo him. “I should invite you in.” Of course you should. He wasn’t going to hurt you- with every second you spent with his skin on yours and his eyes boring into your own, you became even more sure of that. He just wanted to make you feel good- so, so good…
“And are you going to?” Eddie’s voice was so beautiful- how had you never realized how gorgeous his voice was?
“Yes.”
“Good. That’s a good Slayer, unlock the door, baby.”
And you did. It was the easiest decision you’d ever made. You stepped inside, immediately shedding your coat and hanging it on the coat rack by the door. “Come inside, Eddie,” You smiled at him, letting down your defenses. You were so tired of putting them up around him. “It’s cold out there.”
He matched your smile, looking at you like you’d hung the moon. “Well aren’t you just the sweetest thing.” He crossed the threshold easily, following your lead and shrugging off his leather jacket and hanging it beside your own. He glanced around the little apartment, an appraising look in his gaze. It was just one room, a small studio with a modest kitchen and living space. Your modest bed frame sat nestled in the corner beneath a skylight, along with a small armchair and a closet with the few belongings you’d taken with you to Hawkins. 
“Bed looks cozy.” Eddie mused. 
“It is.” 
He nodded towards it. “Go sit on the edge.”
And of course you did. You sat up straight, keeping your eyes on him and waiting for that beautiful voice to say something else. You so wanted him to keep talking; each word was like a warm shower after hours in the cold, relaxing you into a happy little puddle. Eddie watched as you perched yourself on the edge of the bed, slowly stalking across the room until your knees were almost touching his. 
He stared at you, his gorgeous dark eyes glowing deep red. “Open your legs.” You did. Without breaking eye contact, Eddie commanded you again. “Tell me how wet you are for me.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but he raised a hand gesturing stop. “I’m sorry baby, I misspoke.” Placing both hands on either side of your hips, Eddie leaned forward until he was close enough for you to feel his cold breath on your face. “Stick your hand down your panties and feel how wet you are for me. Then tell me out loud.”
You nodded, happy to comply. Your hands were cold, but you didn’t care. You eagerly snaked your hand under the waistband of your pants, shivering as your icy fingers traced a line down your pelvis until they reached the heat beneath your panties. The moment they dipped over the hood of your clit, you were mildly surprised at just how soaked you were.
“Talk to me, baby,” Eddie’s voice washed over you, and you felt a fresh gush of heat pulse through your core. 
“I’m soaked, Eddie.” It was the truth; you couldn’t imagine lying to him when he was so curious. Besides, you wanted him to know that he was reducing you to a deluge in his honor.
Slowly, Eddie sunk down to his knees on your floor. His head was level with your open knees, hands dragging down the skin of your outer thighs as he inhaled the air between your legs.
“Take your fingers out of your pussy, I want to taste them.”
You did as he asked, wide eyes rapt with attention as you watched him grab your wrist and shove your drenched fingers in his waiting mouth. His tongue made you want to melt; it lapped along the skin of your fingers and savored the tart, heady flavor of you. You whined when his lips popped off your hand, but eagerly changed your attitude when his fingers began tracing your waistband.
“Tell me you want me to taste that pretty pussy baby, I can smell how bad you want me already, you smell so fucking good.” 
You did. You wanted him to taste your pussy very badly… you wanted it more than you could remember ever wanting anything before now. “I want you, Eddie.” you panted. “I want you to taste me, I’m so wet for you.”
Eddie’s eyes shone up at you, like light through a glass of dark red wine. “I know, baby, I know. Don’t worry, I’ll have my tongue on you again in a second.” He slid his hands into your pockets, gently yanking on the material and jolting your hips forward. “Take these off for me.”
Your hands flew to the button of your pants, making quick work of them as well as your panties while Eddie helped you remove your shirt. You wanted to bare yourself to him completely, let him devour you whole, even. When you looked into those beautiful eyes, letting him have you just made sense.
You now sat completely naked at the edge of your bed, Eddie kneeling before you taking in the sight and smell of you. His gaze was hungry, his hands tracing possessive lines into your outer thighs. “You’re going to lie back for me,” he said, voice low and commanding, “and I’m going to taste this pussy that’s been leaking for me since I first called you baby in the graveyard.” Your eyes were wide, desperate- stuck on his like a moth to a flame. He pressed his hands to your knees, opening you up as wide as you could go, and you felt his breath on your wet lips.
“Go ahead, Slayer.”
You laid back, staring up at the morning’s gradient of cerulean and lavender through your skylight as your heart began to race from the anticipation. When Eddie’s tongue licked a broad, wet stripe from your entrance to your clit, a reedy, wanting moan pulled from your chest, singing into the stillness of your apartment. 
“That’s it, give me every noise you have, baby. I’ll know if you’re holding any back, and believe me when I say I’ll make you moan one way or another.”
And make you moan he did. Eddie’s tongue was masterful in its movements, licking and flicking in the perfect places as you listened to the symphony of noises that were coming from between your thighs. Between the sound of his wet tongue squelching in the juices that you eagerly supplied and the humming little moans that Eddie made as he feasted on all you had to give him, it was all you could do not to start sobbing from how badly you wanted to cum for him. You knew he’d get you there, but let’s be honest- you were not a patient person. 
“More, Eddie- hngh- please, I need… aah!” Your pleas were cut short as you felt a sharp suck at your swollen clit. You moaned, high and pathetic under the careful ministrations of Eddie Munson. His two middle fingers plunged into you, not bothering to give you time to adjust because he knew you were already wet enough to take him. His fingers curled slightly, sharply jerking his hand up and in, over and over in a way that filled you like a water balloon. You were whining, loudly arching your back into your bed as you squeezed your eyes shut, sensing your climax was fast approaching-
“No,” Eddie lunged forward, his right hand never ceasing its assault as his left grabbed you by the neck, wrenching you forward into a crunch position. “Look me in the eyes while you cum, don’t you fucking close those fucking eyes, baby.”
Your mouth hung open, eyebrows drawn together desperate and needy as you felt yourself getting impossibly wet and impossibly tight. His hand kept going, ruthlessly pounding into you as you screamed his name. Curses tumbled from his lips as he watched you soak his hand, and all the while his other hand stayed curled possessively around your neck. Wetness sprayed from you, and his eyes were downright feral as you squirted all over his face. You watched his smile grow, stretching across his face in triumph and baring his fangs in all their unholy glory before turning his head to the side and opening even wider.
Then he sunk his teeth into your femoral artery, and sucked. 
You moaned- loudly- and then you woke up. 
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Being a vampire slayer who’s had a sex dream about a vampire was pretty embarrassing. 
Being a vampire slayer who’s had a sex dream about Eddie Munson was… inconvenient.
When you’d first woken up from… the dream… you’d spent your first waking moments frantically trying to figure out how much- if any- of it had even happened. Had Eddie even walked you to your door, or had you parted ways at the cemetery? Had he actually called you baby? Did he admit he could smell how much it affected you when he’d called you that? Most importantly, had you actually invited him into your apartment? 
It took a few minutes, but eventually you sorted out reality from whatever your traitorous brain had concocted. You and Eddie had hunted last night. He did indeed call you baby at one point and teased you about how defensive you got about it. You’d slayed a vampire while Eddie assessed the victim, and afterward the two of you had taken her to Annie at the hospital and updated her on the situation. With Hawkins’ vampire population growing by the day, this wasn’t the first time she’d dealt with a newborn; she knew what to do. 
After that, you’d gone your separate ways. As far as you knew, Eddie still didn’t know where you lived- though, you knew if he wanted to find out then it wouldn’t be difficult for him to follow you home undetected. The good news was that he still hadn’t been invited into your home, so you were probably safe as long as you were inside your apartment. Of course, the rules for Hawkins Vamps were still mostly unknown to you, so there was a possibility that he might be immune to the invitations-only rule that bound most types of vampires- but you weren’t about to take him home and test that theory.
Then there was the compulsion- the ability to control the minds of humans and turn them into subservient prey at the mercy of their vampiric predator. You had heard of some vampires having this ability, but had never actually come across it in your time as the Slayer. You hoped that this dream had just been the product of loneliness and sexual frustration taking over a sleep-deprived mind, but how could you be sure? Maybe everything in your dream had actually happened, and Eddie had simply compelled you to think it was all a dream. Maybe he had some sort of psychic powers specific to Hawkins Vampires, and he had planted the dream in your brain just to fuck with you. 
You didn’t know what was real. On top of that, Eddie kept trying to get your attention at school the next day and it was getting more and more difficult to ignore him without being obvious about it. You successfully avoided him for the duration of the school day, but he finally caught up to you as you were walking home. Driving his van at a steady crawl, he rolled down his window next to where you walked on the grassy shoulder. 
“You wanna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me all day?”
You sighed, too chicken to meet his eyes. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”
“Yes you have.” 
You sped up your pace, which was stupid because Eddie was literally driving a motor vehicle. 
“No, I haven’t.”
You were still refusing to look at him, but you could hear the eye roll in his sigh. “Quit being difficult, Slayer,” he said, still keeping equal speed with your barely increased pace. “Get in the van.”
“No.” 
“Uugghhh.” Eddie groaned. “Please? I don’t know what I did wrong but I’ll make it up to you.”
You shook your head but still faced forward as you trudged along on the side of the road. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” You didn’t think he had, anyway. “I’m just… I’m in a weird funk today, don’t read too much into it.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Okay, then get in the van.”
You felt your cheeks heat at the thought of being so close to him… just the idea was enough to get you wet. You felt the familiar gush of arousal as you walked even faster. “No.”
An echo from last night’s dream reverberated in your skull. So fucking stubborn. You know I can smell you, right?
You picked up your pace. 
Eddie sighed, jerking the gear shift into park. In a moment, he was inches in front of you, his hand planted firmly on your shoulder. 
“Stop,” he said, his tone much more all-business than before. You did what he said, begrudgingly, but you were glad you didn’t feel any real need to be obedient. No compulsion, then… you thought, at least not right now. 
You slowly looked up at him, hoping he couldn’t smell the effect that his sudden touch had on you. “Eddie, it’s fine. Seriously.” you tried to smile at him reassuringly, but you could feel on your face that it came out looking more like a cringe. 
Eddie was silent, looking you over with an unreadable expression. Finally, he spoke, “Please get in the van. I’ll take you out for food, whatever you want, my treat. If you aren’t going to tell me what I did to make you so mad at me, at least let me make it up to you somehow.” 
You thought it over for a moment, eventually conceding and nodding your head. Eddie exhaled a sigh of relief before turning on his heel to open the door for you. When you were both seated in the car, Eddie looked over to you cautiously, questioningly.
“Milkshakes?”
You nodded, eyes still facing forward. “Milkshakes.”
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Benny’s had everything. 
They had the best burgers in town. They had the best fries, the best chicken fried steak, the best pancakes in the morning. But the milkshakes? They were the best you’d ever had- which was saying something, since you’d lived in twelve different small towns just like this one since your Slayer powers awakened four years ago.
You sipped your vanilla milkshake through a red-striped straw and let the sweet, dependable flavor ground you. It was like releasing a breath you’d been holding since you’d woken up that morning. Eddie’s powers of observation didn’t need to be above average for him to notice the relief washing over you.
He sipped his chocolate shake, raising an eyebrow as your shoulders relaxed into your first suck of the straw. “You don’t have to talk about it, sweetheart,” he murmured against the plastic held between his lips, “but if there’s something on your mind, you can talk to me.”
Yeah, but you are the thing on my mind, you thought, and therein lies the problem.
“I appreciate the concern, Munson, but I’m fine.” You shrugged. “Like I said, it’s just a weird funk. Normal. It happens.” 
Eddie didn’t seem convinced, sipping from his straw as he studied you intently- it was making you uncomfortable. 
“Stop staring at me.”
“Stop lying and saying you’re fine, I can tell something’s up.” Eddie reached up with one hand and tapped on one of his dormant fangs with a fingernail. “Vampire senses, remember?”
Your heart rate picked up at the thought of what his vampire senses might be sensing, and you could instantly tell that Eddie had heard it from the subtle tick of his eyebrow. 
“Speaking of vampire senses,” you started, eagerly trying to turn the conversation away from your current state, “I have some questions about your, um… powers. Specifically, about Hawkins vamps in general.”
Eddie seemed surprised by the new line of questioning, but nodded cooperatively. Leaning back in his squeaky booth seat, he let go of his glass to stick his hands nonchalantly in his pockets. “What do you want to know, Slayer? I’m an open book.”
Pulling your legs up to rest on the seat of the booth, you made yourself comfortable, leaning against your backpack that sat between you and the wall. “Are you able to enter someone else’s place of residence without an invitation?”
“Yes.” 
Your eyebrows jumped. “Really?”
Eddie was already nodding. “I already knew my fair share of vampire lore before my stint in the Upside Down… I tested the more popular vampire theories pretty quick after I figured out what I was.” 
You smiled, your curiosity eclipsing the nagging worry in your chest regarding his answer to your first question. “Which theories?”
Eddie chuckled at himself, making a show of counting them out on his fingers. “Well, the first was running really fast- really, really fast, I mean you’ve seen me-” Your scoff and eye roll earned you a cheeky wink from the vampire. “-tested out how good my hunting skills were in the forest by hunting down some squirrels, and let me tell you, super speed and super hearing can only get you so far, because those motherfuckers are always on alert. Learned how quiet I can be now, which is weird because staying still and silent has never been my strong suit.”
“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” you snorted. “And you told me the sunlight thing doesn’t bother you because of your witch friend- what was her name, again?”
“Nice try, but I’m still not telling you.”
You smiled, throwing your hands up in mock surrender. “Worth a shot, I’ll find out eventually anyway.” Taking a sip of your milkshake, you kept your voice even as you asked your next question, which was arguably the most important to you at the moment. “So, uh, are there any other powers that you’ve noticed? Powers that don’t fit into the ‘popular vampire theories’ umbrella?”
He raised an eyebrow, “Such as?”
Ugh. “Well,” you began, focusing on a spot on the table where the vinyl coating had begun to peel off and using your fingernail to help it along. “In some regions, there are vampires who can read minds or compel humans to do whatever they say. Some can even bite humans without turning them.”
“Damn,” Eddie whistled, “lucky bastards.”
“So you’re saying you can’t do those things?” you prompted, to which Eddie shook his head and sighed. 
“Nope. First and last time I bit someone, I turned my best friend into a monster. Didn’t feel like testing that theory anymore after that. Can’t read or control minds either, but honestly I’m fine with that. That kind of power doesn’t tend to end well for people.”
You nodded, sipping the final bit of milkshake down. “Wise words.” 
Eddie did the same, fishing out his wallet and slapping a ten dollar bill on the table before standing. “They’re the words of someone who’s flown close enough to the sun to know himself pretty well by now.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and nodded towards the door. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” you stood and followed him, catching the door as he opened it for you. “Thanks for the milkshake.”
“Don’t worry about it, consider it an apology.”
“I told you, you didn’t do anything! I’m just in a funk-” but if Eddie could hear you, he didn’t show it as he jumped into his van and closed the door. 
The drive to your apartment wasn’t long, only about five minutes. Approaching your front door with Eddie in tow gave you the strangest sense of deja vu even though the only time this had happened before was in your dream. You stood with him in the doorway, the warm light of your single-bulb lamp casting harsh shadows across his face as he watched you with eyes tinged with something imperceptible. 
“Gonna invite me in?” Eddie asked, his voice husky and eerily quiet in the cold air. 
You smirked, feeling slightly apprehensive knowing that he didn’t need an invitation, but was asking for one anyway. “Why, you trying to snoop through my things, Munson?” 
Eddie snorted, “We both know that I could if I wanted to, sweetheart, and I wouldn’t need your permission.” He shrugged, leaning a shoulder against the chipping paint on your doorframe. “I’m just trying to be a gentleman.”
“Since when has that been your priority?” you bit back, but there was no venom in it. You were already jiggling your key into the brass lock and turning the knob. You weren’t sure why Eddie wanted to come in, but he was right- if he had malicious intent, he could barge into your home whether you wanted it or not. You made a mental note to request some demon-repellent poultices from a witch friend of yours to remedy that…
The door creaked open, and you tried to shake off that wild feeling of deja vu that kept washing over you with every similarity to your dream that kept occurring. Eddie’s boots thumped against the floorboards, heavy souls claiming the aging wood with every step they took. He surveyed your apartment, assessing what he saw with nods of his head and crossing of arms. 
“Well I can tell you don’t plan on staying long.” he mused.
You raised an eyebrow, closing the door and locking it behind you. “What makes you say that?”
“The walls are empty. Nothing in here looks like you picked it out. I didn’t know better, I’d think I was in a hotel room. ”
You raised your eyebrows, nodding. “Perceptive. You’re not wrong, you know. I don’t usually stay in one place very long.”
“What’s the longest your wardens have let you stay in one place?” Eddie had hopped up on your tiny kitchen counter, his arms straining against the fabric of his leather jacket as he braced his hands on the ledge. You hoped he hadn’t noticed the way your eyes lingered on the way your dim lighting glinted off his bicep. 
“Watchers. Not wardens.” you corrected, shedding your own leather and dropping the coffee-colored jacket over the edge of your bed. “And it’s never been more than a year. If you want to get technical, I think I was in Las Vegas for around 11 months.”
He quirked a curious smile. “Vegas, huh? Lot of vampires there?”
You shrugged. “Tons of tourists to munch on and nothing but nightlife. Believe me when I say that city is run by vampires.” 
Eddie chuckled, “Guess that makes sense.” He looked down, as if he were debating whether or not to say whatever he was thinking at the moment. Then- “Any idea if… well, have they told you if you’ll be here long?”
You smiled; it was a small, tentative thing, but you allowed it to grace your lips. “I’ll probably just stay until the council is happy with the knowledge I’ve accumulated about Hawkins vamps. Once they feel I’m needed more elsewhere, I’ll be packed up and moved within days.” You averted your eyes from his, suddenly finding it difficult to voice the reality that any day, you might have to leave Hawkins. Leave the friendship you’d started to get the slightest bit attached to. 
You heard Eddie scoff- it wasn’t bitter or laced with venom, but it was hollow. An empty, breathy laugh that didn’t do much to cover the vulnerability he had shown by simply bringing up the subject of how long you’d be staying. “Well, you know what they say- hate to see you go, love to watch you leave.” 
It was an attempt at glossing over the mournful mood that’d begun lingering in the air. You looked up at him, brows pulling together in a hopeful, sweeping arch. “You really hate to see me go?”
The smile he’d plastered on was devious and smart-mouthed, but it softened at your question. “Yeah…” he said, his voice lower and rounded as he stroked his fingers along his jawline. “...I think I hate it.” His head stayed down while his slitted eyes looked up at you beneath bushy brown brows. “I was just getting you to like me.”
Now it was your turn to scoff. “Who said I liked you?”
“Your heart rate.”
Well, if it wasn’t true before, it was now. You felt all the blood in your body suddenly rushing through your veins with purpose. The room was feeling surprisingly hot, and you absently pondered whether you had left the heater on when you had left that morning. 
Your voice matched his quiet timbre, “And what’s my heart rate saying?”
He slowly stepped down from his perch on the countertop, stalking toward you with care, as if he were approaching a wild animal. 
Ironic.
“Well,” he started, “something in your brain obviously must have told your heart that you might have to run soon, because your blood’s been racing since I walked through that door.” He took a step closer, and now all you had to do was look up and your faces would be parallel, his eyes boring into yours. “Your body still knows I’m a predator, that’s good.” 
He was right. Your blood was racing under his gaze, and he could undoubtedly feel the heat that was radiating off of you- but that didn’t mean you were ready to openly let that show. “What about you? Big and scary ‘Kas the Bloody Handed’?” you asked. “How does your body react around a vampire slayer?”
Now you looked up. He was glaring down at you, pensive and predatory as a cheshire grin slowly crept across his features. “That depends on how much blood I’ve got in me, sweetheart.” You were leaning against the edge of your tiny excuse for a kitchen island, but now that his hands were planted on both sides of your torso and braced along the tiled edge of the countertop, you felt caged in with nowhere to go and nothing to look at except his eyes as they glowered down at you. “If it’s been a while since I've fed… well, to be honest I get a little hungry.”
Breathe.
“And if you’ve had your fill?”
He chuckled. “Oh, baby, if a vampire ever tells you they’ve had their fill, they’re lying. There is always room for more.” You felt a chill, and the blood in your veins was screaming at you now to grab a fucking stake!! However, you couldn’t seem to tear yourself from this conversation. The way he made you feel- hot, ironically enough- was gluing you to the spot. 
“But if I’ve got some blood in my system,” he continued, “I have to confess, Slayer, just seeing the way you look at me is enough to make all of that blood rush to all sorts of places.”
You were both silent, but the air was pregnant with the question he knew you wanted to ask. A few short breaths were all it took to make you give in. “And… how do I look at you?”
His thumbs ventured to brush over your hips through the material of your jeans, and you jumped at how much the contact affected you. You took in a sharp breath in surprise, and the strained sigh that rumbled through his chest in response nearly made you shudder. 
“Like… a fox that knows it’s being hunted. Wants to be hunted…knows it could outsmart the hunter, but wants the chance to run simply for the thrill of it.”
Fucking. Breathe.
“Is this your way of saying you’re hunting me?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, like the tension between the two of you was so fragile that it could be shattered if you spoke loud enough.
Eddie’s lips were inches from yours, and you could feel his cold breath on your cheeks. “This is my way of saying that I don’t need to.” He nodded sharply in your direction, “Fox.” He squeezed your hips, tugging you gently closer to him, “Trap.”
You squirmed under his gaze but refused to look away from his smoldering eyes. “Bold of you to assume I’m the fox in that scenario.”
“Yeah, yeah…” his husky whisper rasped into your ear when the soft brush of his fingers along your hips became a firm grasp as he effortlessly lifted you up to sit on the counter behind you. He did it so swiftly, so easily… it wasn’t hard to forget about his vampire strength when he barely showed it. He gazed into your wide eyes with a grin that was playful but hungry. “Big bad Slayer is a hunter, not hunted. We’re all aware, sweetheart.” 
His hands splayed atop your thighs, and you couldn’t remember a time before now that you had felt anything as acutely- or with as much anticipation- as you were feeling every inch of him touching you right now. Your inner calves touching the outer sides of his thighs. The knobby contact of his hip bones where they wedged between your knees. The way his fingertips pressed into the meat of your thighs ever so slightly, like he feared how hard he could squeeze before he hurt you. 
You watched his hands, breathless as you studied the light that glinted off his silver rings. There were splotches of faded black shining on a few of his fingernails. It wasn’t nail polish; you’d seen how he colored on his nails with black Sharpie when he got bored in class. Those black nails shone reddish-purple when the light hit them just so, and you shivered as they traveled further up your thighs until he reached the part of your hips that had the most flesh for him to squeeze. A low growl danced in his throat when he heard the noise that escaped you at the sensation his hands were supplying.
He squeezed tighter, tentatively testing how much of his strength you could handle. Luckily for him, slayers are not delicate creatures. 
Wordlessly, you lifted your hands to his shoulders, letting your fingers twist into his dark curls. They were beautifully brown, frozen in the perfect shade of chocolate until the end of time. Your nails gently met his scalp, raking through the roots until both of your hands were nested deep in his hair. 
You made two fists and pulled. 
It wasn’t a sharp tug, wasn’t meant to yank him away from you; it was a slow pull, meant to tease and tell him that you weren’t afraid of a little pain, given or received. He was testing the waters, and you were giving him the all-clear. 
His eyes screwed shut when you pulled his hair, and it wasn’t from any sort of pain but simply from the fact that you were doing it in the first place. Eddie took a deep, shuddering breath as he opened his eyes once again to glare up at you with enough impassioned heat to give his bloodless body a temperature. He clenched his jaw until it ticked, then mumbled “alrighty then” so quickly and quietly that you didn’t even know if you were meant to hear it.
And then he was slamming you against the wall. 
Your thighs straddled his waist, ass seated in Eddie’s stone-strong hands as you felt your back hit the drywall. His eyes were pitch black, hungry for so many things but settling for your lips as he captured them in his own. You kissed him back fervently, desperate now that you knew his touch and the sensations that came with it. 
“God you smell so fucking good,” Eddie growled, pressing into you at the waist and pinning you to the wall where he held you tightly. His lips were insatiable, kissing you like your lips were dipped in sugar and he was a starving man. He panted against your mouth, breathless. “Always smell so fucking good… might be obsessed, I want…want…”
“Want what, Eddie?” you panted with him, eyes fluttering open, wanting to see the way he looked at you when he said things like I might be obsessed as he kissed you… who wouldn’t want to see that? You weren’t disappointed with the sight.
Framed by the backlit baby hairs that formed an evening halo around his head, you might have thought at first glance that Eddie looked angelic. Oh, how wrong that would be. His eyes held far too much gluttony for that.
He leaned in to scent the crook of your neck, causing you to shiver as the tip of his nose traced the base of your skull before whispering into your ear-
“Want to taste you- in every way-” You shivered. “-I want to feel you on my tongue, running down my throat, soaking my hands, falling apart…” Eddie’s lips traveled down your neck, mouthing over the veins that pumped your life force at top speed under sweet, pliant skin. “I want to break you just to know what you look like broken by me.” 
The two of you were waltzing on the line of your collective self-control, and you knew all it took would be one little bite- one tiny prick of his fangs- and his venom would pour into your bloodstream. Then it would be goodbye, humanity.
Mustering up the slightest amount of dignity (with surprising difficulty), you took one hand out of his hair and braced it on his shoulder while the other stayed fisted in his curls. With a sharp tug, you used your Slayer strength to remind him he was evenly matched here, yanking him from your neck and bringing his bloodlust-glazed eyes parallel to yours. 
“Fucking try it then.” you hissed, “See if you can break me.”
Eddie’s familiar roguish grin triumphantly returned then, and you barely registered his nasal scoff and a rush of wind before you were suddenly being flung onto your bed across the apartment. Eddie climbed on top of you, caging you in with solid arms and a scarlet guitar pick that dangled from his neck to dance on the skin of your collarbone. 
He stared down at you expectantly, all-business. “Take your shirt off.”
“You take yours off.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Are you really in a position to be giving the orders, Slayer?”
In a split second, you grabbed his wrists and hooked a leg over his hip, rolling over in the blink of an eye. Now, you were seated firmly on his hips, back arched to splay over his torso and pin his wrists to the mattress. Eddie’s eyes widened, caught off guard by the sudden display of strength and dexterity that he had apparently forgotten you had. 
You grinned, cocky. “I am now.” 
Eddie glared, thrusting upward in hopes that he might throw you off balance, but to no avail. Rotating his hands in your grip, Eddie dexterously took hold of your wrists and gently pressed his nails into your skin. You winced; his nails were sharper than you’d thought they would be. Almost like…
Claws. Eddie’s nails had grown into catlike points, and now they were applying a little too much pressure. Any more than this and he would surely draw-
“-Blood.” 
You whispered to yourself as you watched the bright bead pooling where Eddie’s thumb had pressed hard enough to puncture skin. Before you had time to react, Eddie was pulling your bleeding wrist to his face, inspecting his handiwork up close. He caught a whiff of your scent, inhaling deeply before exhaling so heavily that it rumbled low in his chest. Bringing your wrist to hover above his mouth, you felt your survival instincts kicking in as Eddie’s grip on your arm tightened, squeezing more of your blood to pool into the drop that now hung precariously from the cut in your skin. 
Eddie’s finger on the top of your wrist raised, then firmly tapped down hard enough to shake the drop free and send it falling into his waiting mouth below. 
You watched, transfixed as Eddie moaned at the taste of you on his tongue. He licked his lips, spreading your blood across them and letting your essence settle into the cracks in his skin. You wondered how long his lips would taste like you after tonight. Would it only take moments for the flavor of you to leave his skin? Or would he still taste you in the morning?
Eddie’s eyes rolled back in his head, his composure slipping under the influence of your blood in his mouth. He pulled your wrist to his mouth and licked greedily at the tiny puncture wound, gently sucking but still staying careful enough to keep his fangs far away from the opening. You were trusting him to be responsible here, as stupid as that was, but so far he seemed to be completely aware of where the line was, and he was careful not to cross it. Test it, maybe… but he wouldn’t cross it. At least you were hoping he wouldn’t.
His gaze settled on yours, and you found yourself at a loss for words. He smiled proudly, slowly sitting up until his face was even with yours. You’d long since let go of your grip on his other hand, and now that your bones were suddenly jelly, it was easy for Eddie to lift both hands to your neck and slot both of them so that his thumbs and pointers rested on either side of your ears. He pulled your lips to his, kissing you passionately and sharing the taste of your own blood from where it still lingered in his mouth. 
“Tastes like fuckin’ honey.” He murmured against your lips, tongue snaking out to lick into you, and you couldn’t tell if he was referring to the taste of your lips or the taste of your blood. You recognized it in his kiss- the metallic flavor rolling over your taste buds and awakening something primal in you. Your hips bucked into his, and you felt the solid length that ached for you through his jeans.
Eddie chuckled darkly, rolling his hips into yours in response. “Careful, baby.” You felt his lips lowering, placing gentle wet kisses along your throat. Your heart raced to a bounding pulse as it dawned on you that were he to bite you here, he could kill you quite quickly. “Mmmmmm,” you shivered as his voice reverberated through your neck. “I can feel your blood rushing faster. That just for me?” 
You forced yourself to breathe as you confirmed his suspicions with a small nod. Eddie sighed, hot breath pluming from his nostrils and across your skin. “Just for me… all for me…” His tongue emerged once again and licked a fat, wet stripe along the center of your neck, and you couldn’t stop the desperate moan he pulled from you at the sensation. His hand slid down for his thumb to make slippery caresses over the trail of spit he’d left behind. 
“I’ve never tasted blood this good, sweetheart. It’s… I don’t know how to describe it, it’s like the way you smell, but better.” His thumb pressed ever so gently into your throat, and you felt the tip of his sharpened nail rake a promise against your skin. Eddie kept it there, pausing for a moment, and you realized with a pang of emotion that he was trying to stop himself from asking for more. 
You allowed the slightest bit of tenderness to break through to your exterior, smiling gently at him as you leaned into his touch. “It’s okay,” you whispered, “I can trust you not to take too much, right?” 
The lights were dim, but you could see enough of Eddie’s face to make out the glowing smile your trust had elicited. His hands curved gently along the back of your neck, cradling the base of your skull as he pulled your forehead to rest against his own. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
So much warmth flooded your chest at Eddie’s praise that it almost scared you. You knew this wasn’t compulsion- you felt complete control of your body and mind, and felt aware of your ability to tell him no. In fact, you knew in your heart that if you told him that you wanted to stop everything now, he would obey without a second thought, bid you goodnight, and walk right out that door. 
But you definitely did not want that to happen.
That much was made clear by the pornographic moan that tumbled from your lips as Eddie’s claw drew a single, shallow gash down the center of your neck. His hand slotted under your jaw, applying enough pressure to hold off the blood flow above your neck for the fewest of seconds. Blood pooled in the cut, and Eddie admired his handiwork with hungry fascination. 
“Gorgeous…” he muttered, leaning closer. Your heart was racing, undoubtedly causing the blood to rush even faster to your neck, and when you heard Eddie fucking inhale the scent of your blood like it was a perfectly aged Bordeaux? It started beating out a marathon. 
The moment your scent hit his nostrils, you shivered as a guttural, primal rumbling rolled from Eddie’s chest. The growl grew into a moaning sigh as you felt his warmed wet lips envelop the base of the cut on your neck, and lick into the life that pooled there. 
He sucked, pulling more into his mouth and you whimpered slightly from the sensation. As if to comfort you, his hands slid a little further down so that they cupped the vertebrae at the back of your neck, and it was strange how you could almost feel his touch getting warmer the more blood he took from you. He pulled your neck closer, hungry for all you had to give him.
For a moment you started to worry, fearing that you may have overestimated Eddie’s control over his bloodlust, but your worries were put to rest when he detached himself from his latch and licked up the minimal mess that he had made. 
“Let’s get this off of you, Slayer.” 
Eddie’s hands snuck underneath the hem of your shirt, causing you to shiver at the sensation of cold fingers on heated flesh. Before long, You were both stripped down to nothing and panting with need, a tangle of hands and lips and pulses as you melted into each other in the moonlight. He pushed you gently onto your back, climbing over you slowly and with purpose. You felt the hard length of his naked cock bounce against your thigh as he did, and the anticipation you began to feel between your legs was hot and wet, dripping from your lips as if it were salivating for him. You bucked up involuntarily, eliciting an amused chuckle from the vampire on top of you. 
“Easy, baby,” Eddie cooed, “starting to think you only invited me in for one thing.”
“Oh blow it out your ass.” you rolled your eyes at him, “Don’t pretend you weren’t hoping for that one thing exactly.” 
Eddie smiled, a twinkle in his eye launching your heartbeat into overdrive as he planted a quick peck to the cut on your neck and began to lower himself further south. “I may have had a hunch, yeah.” You watched with rapt attention as his face drew closer and closer to where you wanted him most, the echo of your dream still potent in your memory. What similar talents might the Eddie from your imagination have shared with the Eddie that currently studied your glistening pussy as if it were a delicacy to devour?
In your heart of hearts, you knew that every move you’d made tonight since Eddie walked through that door was absolutely insane. Masochistic, even. But your own idiocy was no match for the ecstasy that hit you when Eddie’s dextrous tongue dove into your folds, twisting and lapping up the essence that he craved in ways that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your arching form. 
You moaned, writhing under his touch as his tongue glided over the dripping lips of your core, savoring the flavors of your arousal and the way they paired with the taste of your blood that still lingered in his senses. 
“Taste so fucking good, sweetheart, goddamn.” Eddie’s voice was muffled, wet and hot in the way he spoke it into you and moved his lips along your pussy to speak the words. The sensation coupled with the commentary all but broke you, and you mewled a bewildered thank you as he continued his ministrations. 
A sharp sting jolted you, ripping your eyelids open- you didn’t even remember closing your eyes- and it took a second to realize that Eddie had used his sharpened nails to create another gash at your inner thigh. It stung, but only slightly, so you assumed the cut must not be too deep. 
“Sorry, sweetheart, did that hurt?” Eddie’s voice was soft and sympathetic as his fingers toyed with the small wound, gently pinching and pressing to undoubtedly coax more blood for him to enjoy. 
“Little bit,” you whispered, and the voice that came out of your mouth was so high-pitched and airy that you hardly recognized it. “-but it’s not bad. It’s not too deep, right?”
“Nah, barely even a scratch.” Eddie assured you. “Besides, I’ll close it in a second anyway.” 
Your head popped off the pillow. “You can do that?”
“Check your neck, sweetheart.” 
You brought a hand to the place where Eddie’s cut had been, but were amazed to find that the cut was completely gone. You felt nothing but smooth, unscathed skin in its wake. Bemused, you checked the cut at your wrist and found it had healed as well.
 “How did you do that?”
Eddie shrugged, the pads of his fingers beginning to draw idle shapes over your clit, mixing your blood with the wetness of your cunt. “Apparently, all I have to do is lick a scratch and it heals itself within minutes.” You jolted when you felt his lips close around your clit and suck, whining at the suction as he drew the mixture of your flavors into his mouth and hummed in satisfaction. 
“Now if you don’t mind,” he murmured, “I was in the middle of something down here.”
You barely had time to nod before he was diving back between your legs, lapping up your essence with an urgency that lay somewhere between passionate purpose and reckless abandon. He alternated, going back and forth between the bloodied gash on your thigh and the shimmering lips of your dripping cunt. 
“Oh my god,” you whimpered, arching into the mattress as he moaned into you at the intensity of your taste. “More, please… I need… inside-” 
In a blur of movement, Eddie’s face was level with yours, and you were staring directly into his lust-blown eyes as his cock nudged its head between your folds. Eddie shuddered at the feeling, closing his eyes as ecstasy overtook him and he slowly sheathed himself completely into you. 
“Hoooooly shit, sweetheart-” Eddie gritted out through clenched teeth. His arm reached behind your shoulders, pulling you flush against him and bringing his mouth to hover mere inches from your ear. “Fucking made for me, so fucking tight.”
When Eddie began to move, your hips bucked to meet him instinctively. In your current position, Eddie had you caged in and wrapped in his arms, held in place as he thrusted into you and grunted sweet, filthy nothings into your ear.
“Feel so good squeezing my cock, baby.”
“Wrap your legs around me, don’t let me leave.”
“God, you smell so fucking good, can still taste you on my lips.”
“Such a good little vampire slayer. Take it all, sweet thing.”
You were getting closer with every word; each whispered praise in your ear made you tighten more and more, but you weren’t quite there yet. As if he could read your mind, Eddie’s hand snaked down between your naked bodies until his middle finger came to rest on your throbbing clit. Careful to keep his claws from scratching the sensitive area, the soft pad of his finger slipped small circles over the wanting bud. 
You mewled, eyes rolling back at the combined sensations. The stimulation was overtaking every sense, numbing you to everything but the climb of your orgasm that awaited you on the other side of the peak you were climbing. 
“You know what’s crazy, Slayer?” 
Eddie’s voice was husky in your ear, and you’d barely registered what he’d said before he continued. 
“I didn’t even need the power to control your mind. Didn’t need to make you want me like this, you did that all yourself.”
You struggled to comprehend what he was getting at, but a particularly forceful thrust caused a sharp moan to leap from your lips. Eddie laughed, and it was somehow both musical and malicious all at once.
“Dreams are funny things… I showed up just to see what would happen, thinking ‘hey, there’s no way in hell she’d have me, right? But maybe in my dreams’...” Eddie chuckled ruefully, shifting slightly to angle his cock further into you and moaning at the way you gripped him tighter when your leg was tilted just so. 
Your eyebrows knit together, confused. What did he mean he showed up? As in, showed up in your dream? Your mind was reeling, spinning in the midst of the jumbled logic of his words and the mounting pleasure his cock was driving into you.
“But it wasn’t even in my dreams that you wanted me, it was yours… in your dream you gave in to me so easily, practically begged me to tell you what to do…”
What? What was he… was Eddie saying what you thought he was saying? You squirmed, trying to lift him so you could look him in the eyes, but he held you in place- immobile and at his mercy. Your eyes widened as you stared up at the skylight in your ceiling. The moon was full tonight, and it stared down at you unwaveringly as Eddie continued to thrust into you and hit that spongy spot within your cunt over and over and over.
“The compulsion was a great touch, I hadn’t even thought of that until your delicious little brain took a turn for the kinky.” You could hear the smile on his panted words. “One dream told me all I needed to know… you wanted me just as bad, Slayer. Wanted- needed- permission to just let go and admit you wanted the bloodsucker’s cock, didn’t you?”
“Y-you….ah! Oh, fuck!” 
You tried to respond, tried to tell him you needed a second to process what he was telling you, but before you could get more than a word out his finger began to work your clit at a pace so rapid, only a demon like him was capable. If you didn’t know better, you would think he’d pulled out a vibrator. That was how fast he was able to rip your orgasm from its precipice and make you spasm out of control around his cock.
“Shit!” You clenched at the sinful sound of Eddie’s voice in your ear as he unraveled inside of you. “Holy- I’m cumming, baby, fuck-” He continued to thrust into you as he rode out his orgasm, murmuring into your neck, “...mine. Fucking mine…”
Your eyes stared unblinking at the moon as you clenched around Eddie’s throbbing dick, mind beginning to flood with post-sex clarity as soon as your orgasm began to calm. Your chest felt like it was clawing at your heart, trying desperately to rip out the offending organ for overtaking the control that your brain was supposed to have had this entire time. Your instincts had tried- god, they’d fucking tried- to tell you not to trust the demon inside you, and yet here you were. Pinned to your own bed with his seed dripping from the most intimate parts of you, and you’d fucking invited him in. 
How much of your attraction to him had been you, and how much had been him? You’d asked him so many questions this very night about his powers, what he was capable of- and he’d glossed over a very important piece of information by omitting the fact that he could make appearances in your fucking dreams. 
Before you could even voice even one of the questions that swirled around in your head, Eddie’s eyes were hovering over yours, the moonlight dancing in a ghostly halo along his silhouette. 
“Listen to me, Slayer.”
His eyes were pitch black, and you found yourself missing the brilliant ruby red they’d shone in your dream. Maybe that’s all tonight was? Just a horrible dream, and the one person you’d considered a friend in this godforsaken town was still someone you could trust. 
“I’m going to get you cleaned up, you’re going to get under these covers, and then you’re going to go to sleep.” You heard him take a breath; felt his shaking exhale on your face. “When you wake up in the morning, you’ll forget everything that happened since I walked through that door.”
You blinked, listening intently. Obediently.
“I walked you home, said goodnight at the door, and left. Then you went inside, locked your door, and went to bed. Repeat it back to me.”
“You walked me home, said goodnight at the door, and left.” Your lips moved seamlessly of their own accord, parroting his own story back to him as you stared into those bottomless black eyes. “Then I went inside, locked the door, and went to bed.”
Eddie stared at you a moment, and there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite read. It suddenly dawned on you that his eyes weren’t normally black or red. They were brown. You missed how pretty those brown eyes were. They were sweet; honest. Trustworthy eyes.
Finally moving after a few seconds of watching you intently, searching your face for something he evidently couldn’t find, he leaned forward and tenderly kissed your forehead.
“Good.” he whispered, low and tired. “That’s good, sweetheart.”
The night played out exactly as Eddie said it would. He cleaned you up, taking the time to make sure he’d kissed every nick he’d made in your skin until there wasn’t a wound in sight. He watched silently as you cleaned your face, donned a soft shirt so large it reached mid-thigh, and slid under your covers. Eddie kissed you softly before wordlessly locking your doorknob from the inside and exited your apartment. You heard him double check the lock and leave once he was satisfied with your safety. 
Then you fell asleep.
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Eddie had only dreamwalked a few times before he’d realized that his newfound vampirism gave him the power to manipulate the dreams that he’d recently gained the ability to stumble into.
It had started when he’d heard Wayne sleeping restlessly in the living room of their trailer, tossing and turning on the couch with his forehead pinched with worry. Eddie had wanted so badly to ease his pain, and before he knew it he was watching his uncle’s nightmare playing out around him like he’d stepped onto the set of a film. He’d seen his own gravestone, seen Wayne tearing at the dirt until his fingers bled, and wanted nothing more than to alleviate his uncle’s pain- that yearning on his part had evidently been enough to cause the scene to shift in his favor. The grave had sunken into the ground, the sky changed from stormy gray to sunny blue, and the bed of dirt had become a gingham blanket, upon which sat a significantly happier Wayne and a sticky-fingered Eddie at age four holding a PB&J that was oozing out the sides.
It was at this moment that Eddie had started thinking that maybe these powers he’d gained might not be all bad.
He hadn’t realized he had the ability to manipulate memories until the first time Gareth had lost control and killed that girl from U.S. History.
She’d asked Gareth to meet her behind the bleachers after school, and Eddie had told him not to go, told him not to risk it, but Gareth was so fucking stubborn. The girl was cute, and the idiot had thought he could handle it. By the time Eddie had realized Gareth had ignored his warnings, it was too late.
Eddie had been so close to cleaning everything up seamlessly, and then some cheerleader had to go and stumble upon Gareth, Eddie, and the bloodless corpse of that poor girl. Eddie’s instincts had taken over, and before he knew it he’d grabbed the cheerleader by the shoulders and used every ounce of willpower he could muster to convince her that she hadn’t seen them at all, and in fact what she had actually seen was U.S. History girl walking into the woods behind the school. 
It had been a desperate, kneejerk reaction, and Eddie had had next to no confidence it would work, but the next day he’d been amazed to hear that exact story being repeated through the rumor mill word for word. It gave Eddie and Gareth the cover they’d needed to take the girl’s body to the Upside Down and hide it where no one would think to look. 
His abilities were handy tricks to have, sure… but it scared him. Eddie didn’t like that every new power he discovered within himself gave him a new way to get away with something awful. Eddie didn’t trust himself enough for that knowledge to sit well with him. 
Now, he sat in the cafeteria at his usual table with Gareth, eyes sweeping the room for your face. He hadn’t seen you in the halls yet today, and even though he had every reason to be confident that you wouldn’t remember last night, he’d never tried to erase memories from a Slayer before. Maybe you had some sort of mental defenses against him? Maybe you were already waiting at his trailer, stake in hand? The unknown of it all was stressing Eddie out. 
That’s what he was feeling- stress. Not guilt. Eddie had hardened his undead heart enough that he didn’t feel guilty for things like this anymore. If he had been completely honest about his powers at Benny’s, there’s no way you would have trusted him after that. After being an active player in your wet dream without your consent?  He didn't know many people who wouldn’t hate his guts after that- hell, he hated his own guts after that. He was a horny creep who’d violated you in more ways than one, and there was no way anyone could forgive him for that. Why should you?
He could have been honest about his memory manipulating abilities, but the idea of giving that secret away had simply scared him too much. It was easier to keep that in his back pocket, and wasn’t that what you always had against him, after all? A wooden stake, always ready and waiting as a last resort. A failsafe. 
No. Eddie didn’t feel guilty. For the sake of his own self-preservation, he couldn’t. 
As if on cue, Eddie perked up when he saw you enter the cafeteria. Act casual, he reminded himself. He couldn’t act like anything was out of the ordinary, but at the same time he needed to be sure you remembered nothing. Then he could move on, not feel as… stressed. 
He watched you discreetly, looking up from his crumpled bag of pretzels every twenty seconds or so to check if you were looking at him. You sat at your normal table on the opposite side of the room, pulling a sandwich from your bag and quietly began to eat your lunch. You didn’t seem to be the least bit concerned with where Eddie was, much less whether or not he was looking at you. 
Suddenly, as if you could feel his gaze on you, your eyes flicked up and locked with his. For a split second, Eddie’s confidence in his powers faltered- maybe his powers were useless against you; maybe you remembered last night in all its shameful glory. The jig is up, he thought, I’m caught. Let justice be served.
But all you did was smile at him and give a little wave before turning back to your sandwich. 
Eddie felt a nudge at his elbow from Gareth. “You good, man?” the floppy haired boy glanced in your direction, raising an eyebrow in question. 
You didn’t remember. Eddie should be relieved… he’d successfully befriended, seduced, and fooled The Slayer. This was a good thing. 
“Yeah,” he huffed, reassuring Gareth with a curt nod. “I’m good.”
Good. Such a relative term. So many definitions for the word good, and yet not a single one would make ‘I’m good’ anything but a lie when it came from Eddie’s mouth. 
He ran his tongue over one of his sharpened canines, pressing it into the tip hard enough to break skin. The taste of your blood that still lingered in his veins flooded his mouth for a split second before the puncture healed itself, and he closed his eyes to savor you for a moment. 
No; Eddie Munson wasn’t good. He hadn’t been good for a very long time. 
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Taglist (just some people I think will be interested, as well as those who I've spoken to about this story during the MONTHS it took to finally finish): @the-unforgivenn, @vintagehellfire, @munson-blurbs, @littlesubbyflower, @msgexymunson, @hellfire--cult, @word-wytch, @carolmunson, @bettyfrommars
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bruhseidon · 1 year
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Y/N: Is this a date?
Damian: A— [baffled] Please. A date? You are completely off your bird! I mean— [whispering] Do you want it to be?
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evieelyzabethh · 9 months
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Sugar and Spike
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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.
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specialagentlokitty · 4 months
Text
Spike x reader - before I laid eyes on you
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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
138 notes · View notes
harveywritings92 · 1 year
Text
[R/n is in a pissy mood and is snapping at everyone.]
Ghost: You're really campaigning for bitch of the year, huh?
R/n: As the defending champion, are you nervous?
{Soap and Gaz nervously side-eye each other and bail before the bloodbath starts.]
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britany1997 · 2 months
Text
Good girl
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Spike x Fem Reader
I’ve been meaning to do this for a while. Spike just gives brat tamer to me because of season sex six, and with a human I feel like he’d be even more intense (he would love the power imbalance). Hope y’all enjoy!
Warnings: a little predator/prey, sub/dom dynamics, brat/brat taming, a little pet play, fingering, oral sex, p n v sex, a little blood drinking, a little praise, cream pie
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You felt the bass thumping in your chest as you maneuvered through The Bronze’s Friday night crowd.
You reached your table, leaning against it and swirling your drink with a bored sigh. You hated going to the club alone.
Out of the corner of your eye you saw a flash of black slip under the staircase. You smirked to yourself, you wouldn’t be alone much longer.
You hummed, grabbing your coat to step outside for “some fresh air.”
You wandered aimlessly, slipping a smoke out of your pocket and lighting it up. You were about to bring it to your lips when you felt a hand snake around your waist and pull you into a firm chest.
Another hand appeared to steal the cigarette out of your grasp. You turned to see Spike bring it to his lips.
He tsked at you, “naughty pet, don’t you know these are bad for your health?”
“They’re not mine,” you smirked, “I just hold ‘em for my boyfriend. But you know, he makes ‘em look so good I had to try.”
“Yeah love? Want to try?” He grasped your chin in his hand before taking a drag. “Open up pet.”
Your lips parted and his mouth enveloped yours in a possessive kiss. He exhaled, filling your mouth with smoke. When he finished, he released you, but not without nipping at your lip. His lip.
“Such a dirty mouth love,” he growled, “think we’d better go wash it out yeah?”
You mock pouted, “well I don’t know, should I go home with a big bad vampire like you?” Your fingers danced up his chest, “isn’t that sort of…dangerous?”
A laugh rumbled through his chest, “not if you’re good.” He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “are you a good girl pet?”
You bit your lip, fighting a smile, “oh I’m terrible.”
He pulled back a bit, sighing for show, “don’t worry pet, I can fuck that right out of you.”
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Spike led you through the opening of his cave before grabbing a pillow and throwing it to the ground, “for your knees love.”
You huffed a laugh, “how considerate.”
“It is considerate,” he said plainly, “now kneel.”
As you did, you watched him pull a nail file from his bedside table. You snorted. “You’re gonna do your nails?” your eyebrow raised.
He strolled over to you, placing the nail file down next to him as he began to unbuckle his belt with one hand. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” he tapped your forehead. “Worry about that nasty ashtray mouth of yours. Say ahh.”
You shivered, “ahh.” He ran one hand through your hair as he finished freeing himself from his jeans with the other. “Good, stay like that.”
He entered your mouth, grabbing the back of your head and pressing you forward to take him. You moaned around him and went to grab his hips, but he slapped your hands away.
“Did I say you could touch?”
You whimpered and let your hands fall, gripping the pillow you were knelt on instead.
“That’s better,” he began to move in a steady rhythm, his cock pushing deeper with every thrust.
After a minute or two, he let his hand fall away from your head and picked up his file. While he fucked your face, he began to file his nails.
Your eyes narrowed.
He thrusted forcefully, causing you to gag a bit. “Good girls don’t scowl,” he scolded.
“Sorry,” you said, the apology muffled by his cock down your throat.
He sighed, “good girls don’t talk with their mouth full.”
You fought the urge to rolls your eyes and hollowed out your cheeks instead. A moan fell from Spike’s lips. “That’s more like it.”
He put down the file and gripped your head again. He began to move it back and forth, sliding your mouth up and down his cock.
“Swallow for me love,” he groaned as he came down your throat.
You obeyed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand when you finished.
Spike smirked, admiring the sight of you kneeling, his cum dripping from your perfect lips.
He reached over to caress your cheek. “Take your clothes off for me, then sit on the bed pet,” he tells you.
You begin to slouch off each article of clothing as slow as humanly possible, teasing your vampire lover. Spike smirks, amused by your antics. He moves to squeeze your bare hip. “Don’t push your luck pet, you were doing so well.”
With feral determination, he rips the rest of your clothes off before pushing you back onto the bed.
You gasp as your core grows slick with wetness. You bite your lip as he kneels in front of you, wedging himself between your knees.
“Say you’re mine,” he orders, his tone coated with lust.
“First, why don’t you tell me why nail care was more important than watching me suck you off,” you teased, giving him the taste of defiance you knew he’d love to snuff out of you.
“Was so I could do this love,” he said as he sunk two fingers into your core. You gasped, tears springing to the corners of your eyes.
Spike smirked as he curled his fingers, searching for the spongey spot inside you. Your eyes rolled back into your head when he brushed against it.
“Think you need more love,” he whispered as he began circling your clit with his thumb. You let out an embarrassingly loud moan.
“That feel good pet? Make you wanna be a good girl for me now?”
You nodded, whimpering, desperate for just a little more.
He leaned in, fingers still stroking deep inside you. “Then tell me you’re mine.”
He’d won and you knew it. “I’m yours,” you moaned.
“My what?”
“Your human.”
“What else,” his fingers sped up as they flicked over your clit, almost vibrating.
“Your pet!” You moaned.
“Good girl,” he growled as he sunk his teeth into your neck.
The pleasure from his fingers and the pain from his teeth pushed you over the edge. You screamed his name as you coated his hand.
Spike pulled back from your neck, licking his lips. He then met your glazed doe eyes as he sucked his fingers clean. “God you’re delicious,” he purred, his mouth slick with a mix of cum and blood.
His eyes softened a bit as he took in the sight of you. Your pouty lips whimpering, your eyes wide, your thighs dripping. You were all his.
“Lay back,” he whispered, and you did without a fight.
He smiled down at you, “see how much fun we can have when you behave?”
You whined.
He huffed a laugh before taking your right ankle in his hands. He brought it to his lips, kissing it softly before slipping it over his shoulder. He did the same to your left.
“You’re perfect,” he praised, “and you’re all mine.”
He pressed into you, splitting you open on his cock, making your back arch in pleasure.
His grey eyes bore into yours with possessive affection as you felt him plunge so deep, you swore he was in your stomach.
You began to roll your hips to meet his thrusts, mewling and writhing in ecstasy from his touch.
Spike fucked you deep with long, slow strokes. He pulled almost all the way out of you, letting his tip bump against your clit, before driving back in.
You screamed, feeling familiar pressure building inside you, “can I…” you trailed off with a moan.
He smiled down at you fondly, “yes pet, you’ve earned it.”
You let out a blissful sigh as you came all over Spike’s cock.
With a few more quick thrusts he was falling over the edge with a low moan.
He gently slipped your legs off his shoulders and placed them down on the bed before laying down next to you. He wrapped an arm around you and pressed a kiss to your temple.
You smiled, taking his hand and lacing your fingers with his.
He chuckled softly, pulling the blanket up to your shoulders. “I’m yours too,” he told you.
You smiled, mock gasping. “Oh yeah? Big bad creature of the night? All mine?”
He smirked, “you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”
“No you won’t” you booped his nose.
He rolled his eyes, “No I won’t.”
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Spike Taglist (comment to be added)🖤:
@sad-ghost-of-garbage @6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @bloodywickedvamp @ghoulgeousimmaculate @anna1306 @arbesa-mind @lostboys1987girl @dwaynesluscioushair @crustyboypix @ria-coolgirl @the-glitter-wizard
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jinxthequeergirl · 2 years
Text
What dating the scooby gang sounds like:
(I already did angel and spike so if you want them check my vampire set)
Buffy:
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Giles:
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Willow:
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Xander:
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Cordelia:
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jasmines-library · 3 months
Note
do u think you could possibly do head cannons of the batfam with a reader whos like buffy from buffy the vampire slayer?? love ur work<33
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I can definitely try! I’ve never watched Buddy (I know, even im ashamed) but I did some research for you :)
⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤
⛤ They were surprised when you first revealed your destiny to them.
⛤ You were even more surprised, and had tried to brush it off, but you soon became accepting of it.
⛤ You kept it hidden for a little while, gaining more skill and knowledge before you decided to break the ice and tell them; they had been growing suspicious because they had been seeing you less and less.
⛤ At first, they thought it was a joke.
⛤ Jason would laugh at you
⛤ Tim would ask you if you were feeling ok.
⛤ Damian would also think it was amusing. “Tt. How long did it take for you to come up with that one?”
⛤ I think it would take them a little bit of time to fully believe you, although I think Dick would have a slight felling from the get go that you weren’t lying.
⛤ After all there are many strange creatures in Gotham. What’s to say that there aren’t vampires.
⛤ They would finally believe you when they see you slip away during a patrol and they follow you.
⛤ After this, I think Damian would get properly into helping you. “Vampires are real?! Are you kidding me?”
⛤ Jason would also be keen to help you.
⛤ Tim would spend his time helping to research for vampires and other supernatural creatures.
⛤ Dick would be concerned constantly urging you to keep safe but he would also be proud of you for what you were doing.
⛤ You also get bonus points for being badass.
⛤ If you went missing at any point, they would spend hours delving into lore to help find you.
⛤ But overall they would be in awe at your work.
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𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞!
𝑻𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔! 𝑮𝒆𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒇𝒍𝒚!
𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐎𝐍𝐄: Head over to your camera roll. The last celebrity or fictional character saved to your gallery is your Valentine's date --- oh! what a cutie! 💗
𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐓𝐖𝐎: Sneak a peek at my Valentine's Date scenario chart! Here's how it works: Choose the first letter of your first name, your birthday month, and your star sign to reveal the ins-and-outs of your romantic getaway! 🥀
𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: Share the deets and share the love! Tag any lovely moots or followers that you think might get a kick out of this! Cheers! 🥂
𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄! 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓!
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I'll go first...
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Okay... the Governor and I are headed to Vienna to catch a show at the theatre and I'll be gifted a love letter! I love this man to bits but I'm expecting a double cross... ❤️🥀
moots, assemble! *no pressure, of course!*: @starstruck-loner @goldencherriess @astudyinlaura @lumosouls @misaverawrites @selcouthangel @asherloki @baby-bloos @thespiritoflife @lydiablack-m @starryeddie @andthevillainshallrises @bakerstreethound @silverdaydreamer @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @classickook @lucywrites02 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @blogthebooklover @imeternallylove @fictional-hooman @waiting-for-cas-to-save-me @amplifyme @frostandflamesfanfic @mindibindi @foxmulderlovebot @space-helen @inlovewithfictionalcharacters666 @paperheartsarts @aephereal @christinasyellowflowers @natti-ice
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prose-for-hire · 3 months
Text
Evol (or, a backwards love story)
Pairing: Spike x reader
Request: Hey I love your spike x reader fics I was wondering if you could do one were like they both have a crush on eachother and he invites her over to his crypt but it's super fluffy and he makes it all romantic with candles and shit
Reader isn't a big fan of pink but doesn't like hate it or anything (just a heads up in case you love pink (like me) and it takes you out of the story).
Requested by: anon
A/N: Be kind please this is the first fic I've done in ages! Hope this is okay, love 💖
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You had been in deep thought, your mind travelling ahead of you as your limbs tried to follow. But your wandering mind had led you down an unknown path. You had taken a strange turn somewhere and found yourself in unchartered territory.
You were at a crossroads, in almost pitch darkness. The streetlights had disappeared a couple of streets ago and you weren’t entirely sure where you were. You were fumbling through the dark now, trying to find something to hold onto, to anchor you.
You found yourself connecting with something, a figure in the shadows. You groaned, the last thing you needed tonight was to get eaten, your top was brand new. You recoiled slightly but a pair of steady hands righted you. He, of course, could see in the dark.
“What’re you doing round these parts, pet?” His voice came from the darkness, retracting his hands, a flame from his lighter ignited so that you could see.
“Got kinda turned around… I’m lost”
“Can’t have that, can we, love? If you’re not careful somethin’ nasty might eat you up” His eyes glinted with amusement, his lips curled slightly in that irresistible way he did. Even when he was being ‘evil’ he was attractive to you. You were doomed to fall for him.
“What did we talk about Spike?”
“Too much?”
“Only a little” you smiled despite yourself, now unable to look up from your feet. You were afraid that you would reveal too much, he could read you like a book. He always had, ever since you met a year ago.
It was tongues and teeth. Blood and sweat. You were backed against the wall, the vibrations from the music pulsing through you. You grasped the black t-shirt that clung to him so perfectly, the vampire you had only heard about.
You knew he and Buffy had faced each other on numerous occasions, you just happened to miss him each time. You had met them in college and had only known of the stories about William the Bloody at this point. But you always liked to judge people for yourself, anyway. And, well, you hadn’t realised how beautiful he was, you had been taken by him as soon as he stomped up to the bar and sulkily ordered a beer.
You heard voices through the crowd, through the headiness of that moment. Voices you recognised. You pulled away, your face a picture; as if you had seen a ghost. You weren’t supposed to be here,
“Go home” He had hissed, covering you as you slid away. Taking Buffy’s attention.
You should have known then he had a soft spot. Or, well, the potential for one. Usually he would have relished the awkwardness of Buffy walking in to find you kissing a vampire. Drinking with demons and beating them at kitten poker. But if he had the chance to do that again he wasn’t going to ruin it by getting the ultimate mood slayer involved, now was he.
But you hadn’t ever had any real time alone since. Sure, sometimes it felt like you were both the only people in the room but there was barely a chance to even allude to what you had done let alone reignite the moment again. Though he of course tried at every moment he got.
“Got have plans, love? My crypt’s only down the way” he spoke softly, almost tentatively if you didn’t know better.
“I’m late. I’m supposed to meet some… friends” You hesitated and you knew he caught it before you looked back into his eyes. Eyes you were slowly being lost in.
“Not those bloody losers again. You’re better than them”
“Those losers are actually my friends”
“Friends that you hide yourself from” He shrugged, not entirely able to drop it. He couldn’t hide his distaste for Buffy and the others.
Despite it all he gestured with his head, offering to take you to your friends. Even though you knew Sunnydale quite well after moving into your dorm a year ago and running around the town many times after (or often away from) demons, you still got lost a lot. It was a kind of running joke amongst the other scoobies.
He lit a cigarette as you rounded the corner, only pausing to offer you one which you declined with a soft smile. A smile that made him want to drop to his knees and declare his undying love for you. It pained him, how soft he was for you.
He shoved the other hand in the pocket of his duster, jaw tensing as he saw your friends speaking rapidly, apparently concerned about something. Willow noticed you first.
“We thought you’d been all ookified, we were worried!” She flung herself around you with a big smile of relief.
“You got lost, huh?” Buffy said with a smile, which quickly dropped when she noticed the company you were in.
“Yeah, Spike helped me get my bearings. Thanks, again” You grinned, despite Xander and Buffy’s distaste. Anya patted your head a little patronisingly at your habit of getting yourself lost.
“Anytime, pet”
“Yeah, right, evil dead is only good for being evil… and dead”
“Not that I’m not enjoying the boy’s wit, but I’ll be off now” He addressed only you, hoping to keep the barbs at his expense from the group to a minimum. Someone muttered something distasteful about Spike, which was of course in his earshot, but he didn’t turn back around.
“He’s, like, the lowest of the low.” someone agreed, shaking her head at the figure walking away.
You weren’t sure why that moment was the moment. Why you spoke something that had been so safely unspoken.
“Spike! Spike, wait-”
“Y/n, what’re you doing?!” your friends called after you, still in earshot as Spike ditched his cigarette and swung around to face you.
“Love, you go and do the friendship thing with the meddlin’ kids, okay? I’d rather stake myself than spend an evening with them”
“I know, I was wondering if the offer’s still on that is, well, I’m free tomorrow night”
He put both hands in his duster, rocking on the balls of his feet and looking down. It was as if he thought you were being cruel to him. Taking him up on his offer just to hurt him by rejecting him in the next breath with all your friends watching. He had to know you better than that, surely.
You reached for his arm, willing him to feel what you felt. Know what you knew. That you and him were meant for each other, that this chance that you were trying to take meant a lot. For someone you had kissed so passionately before it was strange how nervous you were suddenly at even grazing his skin.
“After sunset, tomorrow at your crypt?” You asked softly, though the vulnerability in your voice bled through. He saw it, he saw that your intentions were pure. There were some gasps and some vague unimpressed whispering from your friends behind you but you couldn’t bring yourself to take notice.
Instead you waited with bated breath for his answer. You knew he had offered earlier but there was always the chance he was doing it to tease you. That he had no interest in you. That he was playing with you, looking for something quick and easy. You could do that, of course you could, if it meant being close with him. But it may just break your heart beyond recognition.
This purgatory, which only lasted a second, felt like it lasted hours. Your grip on him tightened, as if you were afraid he would slip away from you.
He nodded, to anyone else it probably looked as if he wasn’t bothered. What he didn’t know was that you could read him in the way he did for you. You saw the slight upturn of his mouth before it disappeared, you noticed the way his eyes searched you with wonder for a fraction of a moment. You knew then, for sure, he felt for you as deeply as you had started to fall for him. Everything you had learned about him you held close, collecting it as the most valuable treasures.
You arrived the next night a minute after the sun set and promptly knocked on the door of Spike’s crypt. You could hear some scuffling about from behind the door and a lot of a British accent muttering ‘bloody bollocks’ every so often which made you smile softly.
You waited patiently until he swung the door open, allowing you to walk in. You gasped, he had transformed the main level of his crypt for the evening. There were candles everywhere, on every single available surface and surrounding the sofa where there was a couple of blankets piled up and a stack of VHS tapes.
There were wilted roses that had shed their petals all over the floor beside the TV set and you tried to ignore the high probability that these came from a few of the graves surrounding the crypt. Stuck haphazardly to the walls were pink and red hearts made from crepe paper and various strips hanging about.
I mean, it was a huge fire risk but you tried to ignore this fact as you appreciated his scattered decorations. You assumed that Spike was ensuring you were aware that he thought of this as a date.
“How was your night with America’s most haunted?” Spike asked, you could tell he was genuinely interested if you had a nice evening after he left you at the Bronze.
You told him everything in complete detail, you were a keen storyteller and he adored this about you. You spoke in such detail that he could picture himself there beside you as the night played out.
“Drink, pet?”
“Please”
You looked around as he started rummaging around with bottles and glasses. You read the words on some of the hearts, your brow furrowing slightly.
“EVOL? I think it’s spelt-”
“No, love, it was meant to be- they’re from the craft store. They, well, I didn’t want it to scare you off now did I?” He turned the heart around, the word was actually ‘love’. He hadn’t wanted you to think he was coming on too strong so he had hidden the word. Though the rose petals and the various pink and red crafts might well have done that if you hadn’t realised how deeply you felt for him.
You laughed, you couldn’t help it. You hadn’t been sure if he was making sure that all this romantic stuff didn’t take away from him being bad. Telling you he was ‘evil’.
He passed you a glass, different from usual where he would just drink straight from the bottle. You were surprised to note that it was your favourite drink. It was incredibly endearing that he had learned this about you, or perhaps it was his favourite and you just had that in common.
The glow of the candlelight accentuated his features, casting shadows from his cheekbones. You felt yourself leaning into him as he spoke animatedly, it was entirely involuntary. When you thought about it, you had done everything in reverse. You were tentatively courting after sharing a much more passionate moment the night you properly met. You much preferred it this way though, in some ways it cemented now just how much Spike had grown to care for you through the stolen moments you had together through the year.
Quick glances and lingering touches. The way he had thrown himself in front of a demon to ensure you would be safe. The way he always offered to walk you home, even if he was shot down every time by the slayer. He always made jokes in the hope that you would laugh.
The evening was lovely, you shared drinks and watched films together, while Spike made biting commentary on each scene. You were wrapped in a blanket while he stayed room temperature. He sat a little more rigidly than usual, seemingly unable to relax. He wanted the night to be perfect. He was concerned he might say something wrong, something a little too murderous and off-putting.
You hadn’t really been paying attention to the film. He had done everything to try and prove he was a man worthy of your love. You could sense he was holding back but you loved him for who he was, the flaws wrapped into the thread of his personality were just as important to you.
“I really like you, Spike. You don’t need to impress me, you know that right? I’m already yours, if you’d let me be” You spoke barely above a whisper. He turned to you, searching your face before a smile grew slowly on his lips. It was a smile you had only ever seen him give to you.
“You’re tellin’ me I can take all this sodding pink bollocks off my walls now then?”
“I mean, it’s a real improvement from the cobwebs but it’s not really my colour,” You grinned, pressing your lips to his quickly before pulling away.
You leaned against him as the night progressed, leaning your head into the crook of his neck. He shifted as you moved down the sofa so that you could comfortably rest against him. He inhaled, savouring your scent. It felt like home. He closed his eyes, focusing on your heartbeat thrum steadily. You were truly here, by his side.
Your body was made to fit beside his, you knew this as if it was fact. You couldn’t imagine a future where you wouldn’t hold each other. Or share moments such as this. The warmth from the candles and the care and attention that Spike continued to show you told you that his feelings at their core were clearly no act, his execution had been slightly exaggerated only because he hadn’t really dated in the usual way for a good few decades.
He slid his arm along the headrest behind you and you settled into watch the next movie. After a moment you realised his eyes were still trained on you, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. When you looked at him, giving him a quizzical look, he just gestured back at the screen with his head a soft smile on his face.
If this was the first proper date, you were looking forward to the rest. In fact, as his arm snaked around you and pulled you close, you were not sure you would ever be ready to leave.
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