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tigerf00d · 2 months ago

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Pairing: Spike x Reader

Other Characters: Giles, Buffy (only mentioned)

Tags: No use of Y/N, gender neutral reader (afab body, one use of the word ‘princess’), slight injury, hurt/comfort. Mentions of Spike's past.

Word Count: 3k

Summary:

“Just your luck, the one person you didn’t want seeing your epic landing that you swear you could have brushed off and been a-ok in time to join the others to patrol.”

After Buffy arranges herself a rare night off, reader is determined to patrol when things go wrong.

A/N: Posted this a while ago on my Ao3, but since I just finished the second part, I figured I would finally transfer it here!

UGHHHH. Sometimes Spike can just be… such a pain in the ass. He was a stupid vamp with the stupid instant noodles hair and, his stupid voice and stupid cluelessness.

God, and he’s just so head over heels for Buffy and I hate the jealousy, but I’m right there. I know I’m not the slayer, but I like to think being her shadow has its perks! Well, perks besides always being around the slayer to see her get doted on by Spike and his stupid, pretty smile.

Whatever, D.D. I have to go. I will update you tomorrow.

You sighed, closing the notebook, holding your innermost thoughts and feelings before tucking it securely into its hiding spot. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust your friends not to go through it; it was just that a certain vamp that held your affections had the tendency to peruse whatever handwritten book was at his disposal. Which, as annoying as it was, reminded you of the first time you felt feelings for him. While reminiscing sounded mighty appealing when the alternative was the cold, dark night just outside your window, you couldn’t hesitate. Tonight was all hands on deck for patrolling so Buffy could have a full night’s sleep for once, an idea you were fully behind. Sleep was so so nice, and she rarely got very much of it.

Looking once more at the area where your diary was, you turned back to the window and exited, but not before tripping on the ledge that you only seem to trip on when you absolutely do not need to trip on it (not that you ever do), landing not so gracefully into a bush… and maybe one of your neighbour’s garden sculptures, which to its credit, looks fine, if a little completely broken in half. You, on the other hand? That’s gonna leave a mark. Maybe. It should be fine.

Ok, so when you wrote “Slayer’s shadow”, there was an emphasis on the shadow. You didn’t have any of that mystical, cool and not-at-all painful landing juice in your veins. Fuck that hurt. Was your side wet, or were you just imagining things in your new dazed state?

“Did you just… fall out of that window?”

Just your luck, the one person you didn’t want seeing your epic landing that you swear you could have brushed off and been a-ok in time to join the others to patrol.

Before you could respond, you heard Spike call out to you, and the ground swirled around your feet. the little green blades of grass dancing and coming closer before a sudden stop as Spike caught you just before you fully collapsed.

“I’m fine.” Wow, did your knees hurt.

“I may be old, but I’m not senile pet.” He raised an eyebrow at you, and you rolled your eyes in response.

“Ok, well, maybe I’m not fine. So what?” You stood up, pushing yourself off of him and brushing stray grass off of you.

“I was going to come tell you that I spotted some folks of the unsavoury sort near my crypt, but I think we should get you patched up first.”

“Sounds good, but before that, I think I should have a lie-down.”

“You humans and your tenacity to cause yourselves bodily harm will never cease to amaz—”

Your body went limp in his arms, or so you were told. All you remembered was the surroundings disappearing as you suddenly felt it was simply Too Much to deal with and passing out.

Coming to was… not the best you’ve ever felt. Your head swam, and the light felt like someone was rubbing your eyes harshly, as though they were trying to stop you from being able to see the person above your face.

“Giles? She’s waking up now.”

“Huh? Wha time’sit?” Whose bathroom are you in right now? Why does it smell so familiar?

“Shhh, you seem to have done a number on yourself. This next part won’t be pleasant. I’ve managed to do most of the patching up already, certainly nothing I couldn’t handle, but there seems to be one spot that is uh, well. We figured you might want to choose who did it. Within reason, of course.” The older man spoke, without the adrenaline in your system, the dull ache on your ribs, hands and legs blossomed into a throbbing pain, which only rose as you listened.

“Hurts, Giles.”

“I know, I'm uh, sorry about that. The sooner you pick the sooner I can give you a good painkiller, alright?”

Tears threatened to roll down your cheek. Great. What was supposed to be the first time on the job, and you manage to fall out of your own window so badly that your clothes are probably ruined and you don’t even remember if the baddies you were supposed to stake were dust or if the others were totally mad at you or something.

“So, who should I call for?” Giles prompted gently. You groaned as you shifted your weight before answering,

“Uh. Spike. Send in Spike.” Despite your better judgement, he was the one you were most comfortable around out of everyone, Giles was great and all but his sordid youth was a memory to him, Spike seemed to understand what being your version of outcast was like.

“Right. Very well then. Spike? If you're not still eavesdropping by the door, they’ve requested you.”

“I was not eavesdropping.” Spike muttered as he entered.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, head lolling slightly as you saw the bleached blond peer his head in the doorway.

“So, what needs to happen Giles?” You asked with false confidence.

“Well, You have to lift your shirt a considerable amount, hence the waiting for you to wake up and what not, then Spike will clean the wound, do any stitches if he has to, and help you bandage.”

“All that and you haven’t even bought me dinner first,” Spike tsked, “it’s unbecoming.”

Giles fixed an unamused expression to the vampire, “Do you want me here for this?” he added, his soft gaze focusing on you, despite Spike's teasing.

“Uh, no, thank you, Giles. Just uh, just Spike.”

“I’ll be just outside if you need me.”

You nodded feebly in response, watching as he exited, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

“Right. Well. Take your top off.”

“Giles said I would just need to lift it.”

“Giles lied.” Spike emphasised.

You leaned back on the cold floor for a moment, thinking as he hovered above you.

“Help me?” You slowly sat up, attempting not to jostle yourself and lifting your arms so the black fabric could be pulled over them. The air was cool on your exposed skin, and the sports bra you had bought so that fighting was more manageable pulled the skin around the wound painfully taut. You must have landed on a particularly pointy gnome or something for your side to be so… open. Or maybe the fence post?

Good thing you weren’t of the blood-sucking persuasion like the man before you otherwise, Poof.

The vamp nodded, “That will have to come off too, I think, love. It’s pulling the skin, and we don't want it to stuff any possible stitches, now do we?”

Nodding distractedly, your heart skipped a beat. Both at the thrill of being called love (and admittedly, of being naked in front of Spike) and also the whole being naked in front of Spike thing was daunting, and the situation wasn’t exactly what you’d imagined.

Teeth worrying your lip for a moment before you looked at him in silent question before once more lifting your arms, it was clear he understood your desire for help.

“Now I’m taking off your clothes? If I didn’t know any better, I would think this was all an elaborate plan to get me to touch you.” Spike removed his duster, which you knew was just so he didn’t get any blood or chemicals on it, but it was nice to imagine he was doing it in solidarity.

“Shut up, Spike. Just fix me up so we can go. Please.” You averted your eyes, face heating up as you crossed your arms over in your chest in an attempt for body heat and dignity.

Spike raised his palms in surrender. “You’re the one that picked me, Princess.”

You stood carefully, before moving so that you were sitting next to the sink and spike moved to in between your legs, the height difference making it as though you were straddling him. Spike lifted a wipe that you knew was going to sting the tender flesh on your side, but you would rather a short moment of ouchy rather than running the risk of an infection.

“C- can you talk? Please?”

Spike glanced up from where he was focusing before looking back down and touching the wipe to your skin gentler than you thought he was capable of.

“Mmm? What about?”

You gasped from the mix of the cold wetness and the feeling of the sterilisation working, “Uhm. You? Just, ow, fuck, careful with that— just talk about you?” You paused before smiling weakly. “You seem to be good at that.”

Spike glanced up at you once again, unimpressed.

“Well… I suppose I could tell you of before I was sired.”

“Gross.” You made a face.

“Not in that way, idiot.”

“I knowwww, it’s called a joke. You should try it sometime.”

Spike paused his scrutiny of your injury for a moment to roll his eyes.

“Maybe I won’t tell you then.”

He began to clean the area closer to the wound, removing the albeit small amount of blood that had dried along your side.

“No! I’ll be good, I promise.” Readjusting slightly to give him better access as a demonstration.

“Hm. Ok. Well, as much of a surprise as I'm certain it is, I wasn’t always such a hit with the ladies.”

You stifled a giggle.

“There was one girl I was really into. Back in my human days, I wrote her a poem.”

“Oh, Spike, how sweet!”

“Yeah, well, you’d be the first to think so. My alias back in the day was ‘William the Bloody’, which sounds somewhat prophetic, I suppose.”

“But it wasn’t meant to be, was it?” You ask, disheartened.

You knew the answer. It had haunted you on the rare nights when restlessness crept in.

“No. It wasn’t.” He responded quietly. The sanitisation was done, and after deciding stitches probably weren’t necessary, he began preparing the dressing.

A solemn silence hung around the both of you, making the desire to fidget in discomfort increasingly strong.

“Spike?”

“Mm?”

“Can I be honest?”

The vamp stilled, looking up.

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t be able to.”

“I… thought what you wrote for her was nice.”

“Oh? And how would you know what I wrote for her?”

Your eyes widened as you averted your eyes, warm cheeks sure to be obvious to the man who could probably hear your heart stuttering.

“I may have.” You glanced at him, bracing yourself against the cold surface you sat on. You couldn’t meet his eyes for more than a few seconds as you realised what you were about to reveal.

“I may have done some research. On you.”

Spike crooned, “Now, I stopped trying to kill the slayer a decent while before you came along. Why on earth did you do your homework?”

You still weren’t looking at him, and he gently pushed your jaw so that your eyes stared into his own.

“Come on, pet, you wanted to be honest.”

“I have all this time on my hands, so I… reviewed their old notes. And you're just… interesting.”

“Interesting? Hm? And this has nothing to do with the way your heart quickens and your blood thrums when you notice me, does it?”

Well, that confirms that. WHAT? Wait, where did that come from? Hello? HE DOESN’T KNOW, DOES HE? Is… was that real? Is this some gnome-induced blood loss or delirium? DOES HE KNOW WHAT HE’S TALKING ABOUT?

“What are you talking about?” You hesitate to ask.

“Oh, surely you knew I could tell?” He was teasing you again. He had to be.

“Tell… what?”

“Don’t act obtuse. I’m a vampire. I can tell when a heartbeat changes and most other things involving blood. It’s kind of what we do. But you already know that.” Spike’s face was nearly stern looking, but you could tell from the way his eyes were fixed upon your face it was a mask for his curiousity, and possibly something else.

Sighing, defeated, you at him and begin to explain.

“I— ok. Yes. It had— has something to do with that. Ok? You’re right. I wanted to know more about you, but it’s not like you have a police record that counts, anyway. Except maybe a deranged missing persons list.” You paused, catching a breath and correcting your line of thought. “I don’t know… I just. I wanted to know what you were like when you were human.”

He let you stew in your thoughts for a moment as he dressed the wound, pressing the material down softly, which caused you to let out a quiet hiss.

“And were you surprised? That the man you see today was once so… pathetic.”

Your eyes snapped back to his, gaze intense.

“William Pratt was not pathetic.” You were surprised to see shock colour his features, this was evidently not what he was used to hearing.

Had no one told him that he wasn’t an unwilling outcast in all his long years of life? Surely, at least Drusilla had let him know he was wanted in a way that wasn’t asking him to do things? Beyond… manipulating him in return.

“He was… naive and kind-hearted, and he wasn’t ashamed of it. At least not initially. And I think that’s brave, to share your affections so publicly, even though she rejected you. She didn’t deserve you. So no. I don’t think ‘William the bloody’ was pathetic, or a lonely loser, or any of that, and neither are you, Spike.”

The vamp was quiet, still processing your sudden liveliness and what you had revealed.

“You better believe it, Spike. I may have terrible common sense when it comes to self-preservation. At least in this instance. But I have pretty high standards for myself.”

“I never finished that poem. How did you find it?”

Oh. well, that was harder to explain. And you grew more awkward despite all that you had been previously vulnerable about.

“There are excerpts in the Watcher bo–”

“Lie.”

You rolled your eyes. “You aren’t the only one with… sticky fingers.”

Spike blinked before a mischievous grin crept upon his face.

“You stole it. From me?”

Cautiously, you nodded, uncertain if this mischief was going to be at your expense;

“You're the one who kept it.” You added defensively.

“My, what a strange one you are, pet. You can’t even successfully exit a window without needing to be patched up, and somehow, you manage to steal from a vampire? I’m almost proud. If you hadn’t stolen from me, maybe I would be.”

“Listen, Spike, uh. I’ll explain my grand heist the second I have some clothes on, ok. I need to move.”

Spike looked at you cheekily. “And what if I wanted to keep you like this? I rather fancy the view.”

You squeaked in response, face undoubtedly growing redder by the second as the man laughed at you.

“I’m only playing, about the keeping you this way bit, at least.”

“Spike!”

He tossed a smirk your way and then wordlessly looked down at the clothes you had been wearing. “Ah.”

Your sports crop? Pretty much fine, but you would rather be comfortable right now, so that wasn’t exactly an option. The shirt you had elected to wear was ruined, the fabric torn and with a patch of dried blood where that stupid statue elected to attack you.

He picked up the article of clothing and offered it to you with a raised brow. You didn’t want to wear it, but it wasn’t like you had any other options right now. Sensing your hesitation, Spike put it next to you rather than in the hand that was reaching for it.

“I’m about to make your night, poppet.”

“Huh?”

Spike ignored your question, electing to begin pulling off the black tee he was wearing instead.

“You ass.” you grumble, accepting the shirt and putting it on as you ignore your face heating up.

The fabric was soft in a way that can only be achieved by being worn in. Who knew how long he had had this shirt in particular, though.

You looked up from fiddling with the hem. The threads were loosening there, and saw hunger in Spike’s eyes. Typically, hunger would be concerning, considering you could be his next meal after all, but this hunger was… different. It was flattering, even,

“Spike?”

The man blinked and made an aborted shake of the head, clearing away the thoughts that evidently lingered. Covering this behaviour with his signature sly grin, he boxed you in between his arms, and if Giles were to walk in at this moment, he would view it as strikingly indecent.

“Nothing, love, just like seeing you in my clothes does something to a man.” He tilted his head to the side, examining you as you realised just how close you were to his now semi-nude frame.

You made sure to not be caught lingering on his torso despite him having confirmation that you liked him. Spike licked his lips, eyes glittering with mirth.

He leaned forward, and you sucked in a breath, your own eyes widening slightly in anticipation, and you watched his mouth twitch upwards.

He leaned closer, eyes boring into yours,

“You know… if I were alive, I’m sure we would share symptoms.”

“Pardon?”

His lips twitched again. He was trying not to grin. Spike was definitely enjoying playing with your mind but trying to keep it serious.

“I find you interesting too.” he parroted your words back, but you were still loading this information, he. He. Spike? He liked you, too? Oh good. Good. WHAT? Yes, that’s excellent. That really works out nicely for you. I'm sorry he what, now? He does what?

“Just to uh, double back.”

“Mmm?” he glanced at the door, listening to the others outside.

“You mean you like me, right? Like. Like like?”

The vamp looked back at you tiredly.

“Yes, pet. I like like you.” he hesitated momentarily, glancing at the door once more, before kissing your cheek and laughing breathlessly at your tiny squeak.

Spike withdrew, beginning to look around at what had to be cleaned up.

As Giles returned, your fingers grazed his cheek where he had just kissed you.

“Is everything alright, in there? I thought I heard somet—”

Giles frowned, blinking twice and looking between you and Spike.

“Spike, where’s your shirt?”

Spike waved a hand in your direction, picking up your tops and presenting them to the man, plainly answering, “Theirs was bad.”

#buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #Spike x Reader #Spike BtVS x Reader #Spike x You #Spike BtVS x You #crossposted on ao3 #sorry all who are following me for lockwood and co stuff but Spike came way before George. ha

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vampirewrestlinglover · 8 months ago

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I don't know if you take requests or not, but here goes nothing: What if there's a spike x reader where the reader is a slayer yet she's ofc like the opposite of Buffy(goth, rebel, lives in a trailer with her mother), and when Spike figures out there's another slayer in Sunnydale, he's in disbelief, and then he sees hee in like full goth getup and everything and assumes she's a vampire💀. But then she tells him that she's a slayer and he's taken aback and stuff(I'm thinking that it'll be funny).

I'm not the best writer, but i'll do my best-

"So, i'm assuming you're not a vampire?" Spike had welcomed himself into your trailer and was met with a wall of stakes and crucifixes that only made him slightly nervous.

"What? No." You slowly approach him, a stake behind your back and a look of both confusion and annoyance on your face; You really want him out of here. Your mother would be home from work soon after all. "Alright," Spike held his hands up in mock surrender, though it was clear this was kinda funny to him, "i'll get out of your hair in a bit. I just saw your badass get-up and thought you were a vampire. Not another bloody slayer." You lower your stake and look him up and down, then you look at yourself; You couldn't deny that he was kinda cute, even if he was possibly a horrible human-or undead-being. And you also couldn't deny that you did look kinda like a vampire.

"Uh, thanks I guess?" You were looking everywhere but at your target by now. You had no clue what you were supposed to do with him. At first you wanted him gone, but now you kinda wanted him to stay with you. "Are you gonna leave now?" You pushed your... feelings aside for now and tried to stay focused on getting this man, this blood-sucking, hot awful man, out of your home.

"Oh, so you don't want me here?" Spike's voice was slow as he walked even farther into your trailer despite you grabbing his arms in an attempt to stop him. He knew what he was doing. He knew you kinda liked him. "Fine, I guess i'll leave and never come back. I'll just be lonely for the rest of my poor, undead life." He dramatically threw himself onto the couch, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table with no regard for your things.

"Get your nasty shoes off my fucking table. NOW!" You drive your stake as hard as you could into the wood, making a small dent you knew your mother wouldn't be pleased with. Spike just stared up at you, shock and amusement mingling in his eyes. "Well well, looks like someone's got a bad bloody temper, huh?" Spike stood up and placed his hand on your cheek, a smug grin on his stupid face. "That's alright luv. I like a good temper."

You turn to look out the window and see your mother pulling up, completely unaware of what was unfolding in her house, and you knew you had to act quickly. "Can you turn into a bat or something?" You ask, the small amount of patience you had dwindling quickly. "No." Spike answers quickly, too quickly, but you don't have time to question him and instead grab his hand and drag him down the short hallway.

"Well, if you can't fly out of here or whatever, you're gonna have to stay in my room until you can sneak out once my mom's asleep." You continue power walking until you reach your bedroom door and open it, being greeted by the sea of posters and CDs on your wall.

"Maybe i'll shove you into the back of my closet and forget about you until I eventually move out of this shithole and I have to dig deep into my closet to get my things and i'll find you back there. That sounds exciting, huh?" You weren't looking at Spike so you didn't notice the large, shit-eating grin he had on his face.

He'd gotten into your room like he wanted to, but now what?

Hopefully this is what you had in mind and it didn't suck too bad!

#buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #spike btvs #spike x reader #vampire stuff

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