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itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland · 1 month

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Waves (Spike x YN)

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

TW: Mentions of blood and phsyical harm.

Word Count: 2.2k

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/n!" Spike yells after you.

The wave of relief that washes over you is insurmountable.

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

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

"You look like death."

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

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

"I can walk." You argue.

"Barely" he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You should see the other guy."

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

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

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

"Rude" you get up and start limping again.

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

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

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

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

"Big fan of decapitation, I see."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Excuse me?" You're incredulous.

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

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

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

"Good evening. Where to m'lady?"

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

You both make it to an empty playground.

"Here?" Spike asks.

"Here." You confirm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You walk up to Spike to assess the damage.

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

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

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

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

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

"I know" Spike smiles his shit eating grin.

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

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

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

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

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

"Nah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland · 1 month

Text

Not Yet (Spike x Y/N)

Requested: nope

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

Word count: 1.7k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Darling, you are a vision."

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

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

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

"Where do we start?" He whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No..."

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

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

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

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

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

"Shots and then drinks."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stirred in his arms, "Already?"

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

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

"Are you staying?" You ask silently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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