#buffy's caresses....... oh..... me when

[earnestlymine]

Buffy the Vampire Slayer | 3.21

[sapphicjjareau]

the leather jacket

read on ao3 | masterlist/s

description: you’re having a bad day and spike runs into you, a conversation sparks and you realise you might actually feel something for him.

relationship: spike & reader

a/n: in my mind reader is fem, but idk if i specified it anywhere? they are wearing a dress, but that’s mentioned once, in the beginning.

wc: 1140

You sat down on a bench, it was dark, there was only one lantern a couple meters away from where you were. You felt the cold air caressing your bare arms and calves, as your skirt reached a little below your knees. It was hard, adjusting to living like this, living and haunting demons while you had your own demons haunting you, for a good while now, life was just, too much. Buffy’s life seemed to be piecing together, Willow met Tara and was obviously in love, Xander started to work and had Anya, you were just… there.

Wishes and what ifs filled your thoughts, you wanted to go back to high school, when it was just the Scooby Gang, when you had Cordelia, who you were close with at the time, you two were always outcasted to an extent, she was especially after Xander cheated on her, that’s when you distanced yourself more from him, while Willow always seemed honestly sorry, he never did. It was never the same after that, while you enjoyed spending time with them, you just never got that close again and your life seemed to go down hill from that ever since.

You watched people passing by in distance, you felt so empty, like someone cut a whole in you that could never be filled, today was especially bad and all everyone cared about was demons and other strange creatures of the dark to fight. A set of footsteps caught your attention, it was getting closer to you, you looked over to see a face you recognised, but haven’t seen in a while.

His hair was still platinum, combed back, he had his leather jacket on per usual and a funeral like — all black — outfit. Your eyes stopped at his face, he tilted his head, as he just stood there for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face, you could swear you saw his eyes soften for a brief moment, before they went back to being cold as usual.

“What’s wrong?” He said and the question took you aback for a second, you parted your lips ready to answer, but ended up biting your own tongue in time.

“What do you want, Spike?” Your voice was calm, almost emotionless, a chill run down your spine as the wind blew again, creating goosebumps on your skin.

“What? What do I want?” Spike let out a scoff, as he relaxed more, now standing in a less of a dull position. “Do I always have to want something?”

“Well, you usually do so… What is it?”

He scoffed again, you could feel your hands clenching slightly at that, he was bothering you and now wouldn’t even say what he wanted.

You just focused back on the people you could see in the windows of the dorm rooms, those passing nearby or those going out, probably to party. You kept a mental note of the fact that he was still there, his gaze was lingering on you and you could feel it. He eventually moved to sit down next to you, you glanced at him, your gaze paused on him, as you noticed his eyes softened again.

“If you’re hoping to see Buffy, she’s not coming.”

“Oh right, the slayer…What a loss.” He said, his tone more playful now, you just glanced between him and the passers by.

Silence fell between you two for a moment, he was just… sitting there and so were you, you didn’t really mind or care as long as he didn’t annoy you too much, it was quite nice, having company wasn’t so bad, even if it meant his company.

“Something is wrong.” Spike said, catching your attention, you turned to him, this time focusing on him. “What’s wrong, hm? Maybe I can help out.”

“I don’t need your help. Or want it.”

“Gee, no wonder you’re sitting alone.”

Ouch.

Your lips lightly pouted, it was instinctual, your head moved down as you looked at him with hurt in your eyes.

“Well, you’re sitting with me. So…”

“So what? You’re not alone? You’re in my company, a bloody vampires and not your ‘my little pony’ friend group?”

You let out a sight answering with a simple, “No.”

He took out a flask bottle out of his coat, he took a long sip, moving it towards you with a raise of a brow.

“What is it?”

“Apple juice— What do you think it is?” He scoffed.

“God you’re insufferable.” You mumbled taking it from his hand and taking a huge sip yourself.

It didn’t take long for you to get more talkative, you had a pretty weak head when it came to alcohol, you were shivering by then, the cold becoming unbearable. You began to think how cool was the fact that the cold couldn’t affect him, he was dead after all and probably cold himself as well… you stopped your train of thought there, because why on earth were you thinking if he was hot— warm or cold.

“You’re shivering.” He noticed, his voice was deep, he took his jacket off. He moved it onto your shoulders, allowing you to adjust it, so you did, doing your best to cover up as much as you could, it just ended with you putting it on fully.

You smiled lightly at him, your cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, “Thanks.”

“So you were saying…” He clears his throat as he takes another sip of the drink.

“Right… Um… What was I…” You frowned your brows, your mind was fuzzy, each thought went in and out within seconds, not letting you to focus on anything. He seemed to notice you struggled with putting it together so he just spoke for now.

“Well truth be told, the… whatever you called them gang… they are not as half as cool as you are, I mean, think of that prat Xander.”

You just nodded in an agreement, there was something in common between you, a human, struggling mentally and a blood thirsty, old as time vampire — your hate for Xander Harris.

“I— I don’t know…” You shook your head, drinking more, the flask was almost empty. “It’s all just… I’m just… Tired.” You looked down as you spoke, voicing it all felt a little too real.

“God this is so depressing.”

“Is it? I think that’s just you, love.” He smiles lightly at you, making you smile, he had a pretty smile… wait what?

God.

“You know what… I- I need to go.” You got up, giving him back the flask, unable to say much you just… took off. You could hear him yelling a couple of “hold up” after you, but you kept on walking, you eventually reached your dorm room, you walked inside.

You took your leather jacket off, but it wasn’t yours, was it?

[andthesunwillalwaysshine]

TOP 5 fav spuffy moments since they became canon in no particular order

1. buffy saving spike in s7e11

2. touched (all of it, inc spike’s speech to the scoobies and potentials, spike’s speech to buffy, them cuddling together aka spike holding buffy and buffy holding spike (with THE MUSIC starting the montage w them and ending it w them) 

3. their entire convo in end of days

4. the i believe in you speech from buffy

5. FIRST DATE being an episode that screamed LOVE (so the entire episode but also the last convo, ’’i am not ready for you to not be here’’ and glances)

BONUS IN CAPITAL LETTERS: tell me you love me (i love you, you know i do) tell me you want me (i always want you) scene (no when i am telling you i was down bad for this moment i was truly down bad) ++++ ’’If you try anything again he’ll kill you…and more importantly i’ll let him’’, Buffy finally saying that 3 words 8 letter aka I LOVE YOU (and no matter what Spike said, it’s confirmed he knew she meant it) I was a broken mess  (you know how hard it was putting this outside of top 5, but the buffy saving spike scene was so ahhhhh<33333</333333)

EXTRA bonus: the bday episode in s6, buffy breaking down in front of tara talking about her feelings regarding spike, buffy dreaming of spike and her being in her bed after the trio made her think she had killed someone, buffy defending spike to giles, ’’he is in my heart’’, ’’clearly you don’t cause that whole having my pride thing was just a smoke-screen’’ ’’oh thank god’’ ’’i don’t know what i would’ve done if you had gone up those stairs’’ *caresses cheek*, when spike wakes up from his dream and asks buffy if something is wrong after she’s done talking with the first disguising as herself (idk it seemed so domestic to me, also the way he said her name), THE FADE OUT MOMENT IN CHOSEN, when the evil is controlling spike and normal spike is talking to buffy and being like i could never forget you and it’s still all about you and i didn’t go to hell to retrieve my soul and back only to hurt people again and how he can’t live with himself for hurting buffy 

[hiddenbysuccubi]

"Yeah...." Joan sighed, blowing out smoke from a second procured cigarette and stifling a cough. "Town was weird with um," she waved her hand in front of her, frowning. Even with Althanea's guidance and her, the keeper of the time watch, provided Buffy without an exact date. Technomagic and indeed magic itself was not her strong suit.

Luckily, Spike provided. "Everyone all hush-hush quiet like, thanks to the poncy boys in suits? Couldn't scare a proper scream from anyone with that going on. Takes all the fun right out."

Oh, she thought. She'd scream for him again, any day. But faced with everything now, the longing remained an acrid burn in the bottom of her gut. Steadying herself, she finally pulled her purple hood back. Remembering the time she and the others had faced The Gentlemen. She'd never really known back then what Spike had been up to during that time (getting chipped came to mind), but pretty soon Willow'd be saving him from staking himself. "Any other Vampire'd get a sick kick from the added novelty of their prey not being able to voice themselves, I bet." she told the trees in front of her, not quite seeing.

"Well, 's not my style." Spike defended slowly, swiping his nose before leaning back and looking the strange woman up and down. "What's a pretty thing like you doing out in the cemetery all alone?"

Any way the wind blows. When your body aches to lay it down

Joan smiled. It was just as tight as her Buffy smiles had become near the end, but it wouldn't give her away. Finally she faced the ghost of her past fully. Lost in the blue of his eyes, even shadowed as they were. A waning something-whatever moon just glancing off his platinum hair. But in her mind she could see the light pouring out of him, the martyr, the sun, "No you don't but-" NO. She wouldn't let his memory repeat that line. In the end you're better off alone

"Looking for you, looking at the stars." She mumbled, taking a sip from the now nearly-empty flask. "They don't shine like this when I come from."

Spike was leering now, intrigued. "'When' is that, luv?"

"2012. Not too far. Heard stories. Figured I could come back and.. change things" (fix everything). "I'm not as helpful as B-uh, Buffy. The slayer." It was a struggle, saying her lost name. She couldn't say I want to save you, I want to screw the me of the past over and keep you to myself.

The vampire hummed, unaware of the thoughts going through her head as she finished her flask. "Some kind of time travelling witch then? Got a name?"

"Joan."

He nodded sarcastically. No doubt already cooking up a way to turn this unexpected visitor into an asset towards his own gain. Wiping his hands on his jeans and grinning, he offered her his hand. "Spike."

Your name is like a melody. She didn't say, as she smiled sadly back at him and shook. Letting go quickly, lest she never let go, and willing her heart to stay dead despite the jolt of electricity which was briefly caressing it.

[bakedbakermom]

Stained

Chapter 1: Sanguine.

Read on Ao3; tagging @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr

But first, a word from the author. I first wrote this fic when I was about 14, circa late 2000. It was very much a product of its time, both of who I was/how I wrote then, and where the respective shows were in their runs. I found it recently in an archive I will NOT share, and was stunned to find that it actually did have some good bones--and, as is to be expected, plenty of cringe, but I try to look on my past self with indulgence and sympathy in that regard; we are, all of us, unfortunately fourteen at some point. There were even a few beautiful lines in there that I lifted entirely. I don't think I've ever gone 20+ years between a first and second draft, but here we are, in 2023, and I am back on my XF/BTVS brainrot for a second pass (and third, and fourth, as editing commands me). This fic takes place in late season 7 of the X-Files, post-Hollywood AD; and season 5 of Buffy, post-Intervention. Do those seasons line up at all? Nope. But let's be real, neither show was all that great at keeping consistent timelines. Besides, time is an illusion and canon is a sandbox; if we're not going to play, what's the point? As for how a crossover like this works when there are references to one work within the other work? Short answer: Don't worry about it. Long answer: I have lost my mind and you can see my spiral into madness here (contains a few minor spoilers/background info for this fic)

Fic is COMPLETE and will be updated Sundays and Wednesdays.

Scully unlocked the door to room 217 of the Sunnydale Motor Inn and slipped inside, hoping the brief spill of buttery sunlight wouldn’t disturb the occupant. The soft snick of the door plunged her into sudden darkness, but her eyes adjusted quickly; she was getting used to the dark. Inside, little light pierced the drawn curtains, and what did filter through was stained a deep crimson, as if a haze of blood hung in the air.

She eased herself down onto the edge of the rumpled bed that filled half the room and prodded the lump of blankets she assumed was her partner. The lump moaned and shifted, and from the opposite end, Mulder’s tousled head appeared. A shock pierced through her when she saw how pale he had become, how dark the circles were under his eyes; she tried not to think about how he had been sleeping upside down, like a bat. He would only tease her for the comparison. “How are you feeling?” she asked softly, hoping she sounded calmer than she felt.

He groaned, his voice barely more than a croak. “Half dead.”

She lifted one auburn brow and tried to smile. “Oh good, only half.”

Mulder sat up stiffly, his bones creaking and popping like the hinges of a haunted house. The sheets fell away from his bare chest, now a sickly white instead of his usual golden tan. He shoved a pillow behind his back to prop himself up, as if the effort of sitting was too much for his withering body. His eyes narrowed into tiny slits and he winced. “Isn’t it a little bright in here?”

“Mulder, I can barely see you.”

“Oh. Right.”

Something shameful flickered in his eyes and she reached out to take his hand; his skin was dry and frighteningly cold, the bones beneath it not quite right. She pushed the fear down with a thick swallow. “Don’t worry about it. The sun will be down in an hour or so.”

They relied so much on touch to communicate these days. A subtle brush of fingers to say I am here. The pressure of his hand on the small of her back, We’ll be alright. A tear thumbed away from a cheek, Your pain is mine too. A kiss pressed tenderly to a forehead, We’re not done yet.

Touching him was different now. Strained. Stained. Death lived in his skin; it was a void she had to force herself across with every caress, because each time she touched him, she was reminded of what lived inside him. 

What it had tried, gleefully, to do.

Her memories of that night in the graveyard were murky at best, flashes of blood and terror glimpsed only through a dense fog like a stormy night at a drive-in, and it was a relief to her that she was spared the worst details. Her body was healing, and though she knew that repressing emotional trauma was an unhealthy coping mechanism, it was the only thing allowing her to function. The reckoning was coming for her, sure as the sun outside was edging toward the horizon; when the darkness came, it would swallow her whole, just as it was trying, now, to swallow her partner.

The darkness was inside him, a part of him, and she could not touch one without wanting to recoil from the other. She hated the relief that filled her as she released his hand to reach into the paper bag she had brought inside with her. “I got you something to eat.”

His eyes lit up as they landed on the small styrofoam container, the kind usually filled with soup or pasta salad to-go, with the name of a local butcher on the side: Sunnydale Fine Meats. Its logo was a cartoon pig holding up a link of sausage speared on a fork, the little speech bubble near his mouth proclaiming it both local and delicious. Scully found the image horribly macabre. “Beef or pork?” Mulder asked, taking it eagerly from her hands and giving it an appraising sniff.

“Lamb,” she said, and when he wrinkled his nose, “Sorry. It was all they had left.”

“Don’t worry about it, Scully. I imagine it’s a popular take-out spot in this town.” He squeezed her shoulder gently, and she fought not to pull away from the chill of his touch. “Thank you. For all of this.”

He stood slowly, accompanied by another symphony of popping joints. He tightened the drawstring on his sweatpants—when had he gotten so thin?—and carried the container to the microwave in the room’s tiny kitchenette. Her stomach lurched as she realized he was heating the contents. Ninety-eight point six.

Mulder glanced up and saw her staring, then looked quickly away. “Tip from Spike,” he muttered. “Says it’s easier to… get it down… this way. That I’ll get used to it faster if it’s warm.”

“Is it really that bad, compared to..?”

A shudder passed through his body, but not of revulsion. She shouldn’t have reminded him about that, but he answered anyway. “It’s like day-old coffee versus a chocolate shake. With whipped cream. And extra cherries.” His voice dripped with a hunger bordering on lust. “I can handle it, but I’d rather have… well.”

Compassion and pity warred with a visceral disgust and the sudden roiling in her gut pushed her to feet. She couldn’t watch this.

“I’ll let you eat,” she said, too fast, nearly lunging for the door. Stupid, she yelled at herself the moment she realized what she was doing. Don’t give him anything to chase. Not when he’s hungry.

His hand clenched painfully tight around her wrist before she even heard him move, and her heart started to hammer beneath her sternum. She knew he could hear it, watched his pupils dilate as the sound reached him, and his gaze fell on the pulse fluttering in her throat.

The dark centers of his eyes grew inhumanly huge, nearly eclipsing the warm golden green, and his tongue flicked out to lick his lower lip.

Scully stood very, very still.

Her blue eyes were cold and hard as she met his stare. Do not flinch.

“Mulder,” she said carefully, threading steel into her voice. “Let me go.”

He held on, breathing harder than he had any need to, nostrils flaring as he took in the coppery scent of her fear, fingers constricting so tightly she felt the fine bones of her wrist grinding together and the tingling static of the circulation failing in her fingertips. She would have a new bracelet of bruises tomorrow. A sound between a moan and a growl bubbled up from his throat.

Scully’s free hand began to inch toward the chain around her neck when suddenly the microwave beeped from across the room, breaking the tension like a splash of cold water. He stepped quickly away and turned his back to her, shoulders hunched and shaking.

“God, Scully, I am so sorry.”

If her hand trembled as she laid it on his back, they both ignored it. “I know, Mulder. It’s okay. I know.”

“No, you don’t,” he said gently, his voice choked and breaking. “And I’m glad you don’t.”

She forced herself to move closer, to cross the death-black void that had bloomed between them; the fear she felt was a small price to pay to erase the pain written so clearly across his face. She wrapped her arms around his abdomen and laid her cheek against the icy expanse of his back. He flinched as the tiny gold cross on her necklace made contact with his skin; she pulled away just enough to tuck it into her shirt, then squeezed him even tighter. “You’re so warm,” he murmured, placing one hand over hers where it rested against his stomach. “It’s so nice to feel warm again.”

Her throat constricted painfully as she fought away the tears threatening to spill from her eyes, and it was a long while before she trusted herself to speak. Her voice came out small, empty of anything but helpless fear. “What are we going to do?”

He sighed and rolled his gaze heavenward. There were water spots on the ceiling. “Shoot me?”

“Yeah, a lot of good that would do.”

Mulder huffed out a barbed little laugh and turned within the circle of her arms. His hands came up to cup her face, and the defeat in his eyes nearly broke her heart. A single tear slid down his ashen cheek, glinting red in the fading light. Red as blood.

“I’m scared, Scully,” he whispered. His thumbs brushed tenderly over her cheekbone for a moment before he folded around her, his face buried against her neck and his arms painfully tight around her. “I’m so scared.”

She held him as he wept, stroking his hair and whispering soothing words neither of them would remember later. It was not really her words he needed, merely her touch, the comfort of knowing she cared enough to brush up against the monster inside him if it meant that the man could feel the touch of her body, small and warm against him. His tears soaked into the collar of her t-shirt until it stuck to her skin.

No, not tears. Saliva. He licked the place where her neck met her collarbone and moaned. His hands came up to thread his fingers through her hair. He pressed himself tightly against her, and she felt him growing hard against her hip. Her gut clenched, and not just from fear.

“Mul—”

His name died on her lips as something sharp pierced her skin, a sudden warmth spilling down her shoulder. She struggled in his grip, a fly in a web, and he bit down harder.

Scully had an unfortunate amount of practice stuffing down her gibbering panic, translating the adrenaline that threatened to paralyze her into action instead; she summoned every drop of strength she could manage, twisting at the hip, and used the strength of her legs and torso to shove him back. Her hand immediately flew up to press against the wound on her neck as she stared at him, blood trickling between her fingers and her mouth open in shock and fear.

A monster stared back at her from the place where his face should have been, thickly ridged brows and serrated teeth dripping with crimson and eyes gleaming the fevered yellow of a jungle cat. It wore her blood like warpaint, like a sacrificial mask. A growl rumbled forth from what had been Mulder’s throat and its hands clenched and unclenched at its sides as it prepared to strike again. It dropped into a crouch, shoulders hunched, muscles rippling unnaturally beneath the surface of its skin. Its features twisted into something like joy.

Scully wondered if she could free the gun at her hip before it reached her; a bullet might not drop the thing, but she could slow it down.

Even vampires feel pain.

A sudden shudder passed through the creature and a high wail of grief tore from its throat. Slowly, the face softened, melted, Mulder’s familiar features coming back to the fore, dazed and afraid. He touched a finger to his chin and revulsion crossed his face as he realized he was streaked with her blood; the stain of it was shockingly dark against his skin. He turned away, shame-faced, but not before she saw him lick his lips clean.

“Get away from me,” he growled as she started to reach for him. She snatched her hand back as if burned, as if he would bite it. He collapsed onto the bed, his head buried in his hands. “I can’t—I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“I’m all right, Mulder,” she said, though her knees threatened to buckle beneath her. “You didn’t hit anything important. I’m fine.”

But her hands shook as she grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on the nightstand and pressed them to her neck; they soaked through more quickly than she had expected, red blooming across the flimsy paper like roses on snow. She dropped them and grabbed another bunch, ignoring the way his eyes followed the sodden ones to the floor. She forced herself to take a step forward, then another, and then to sit beside him on the bed. Her free hand found his shoulder, and though they both flinched at her touch, neither moved away.

“I could have hurt you, Scully. I could have—” He gulped, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “I could have killed you.”

Her hand on his shoulder tightened and she forced him to turn towards her, not with the strength of her hand—pitiful compared to the strength he now possessed—but with the tenderness of her touch. She cupped his chin and waited for his eyes to meet hers; she held his gaze, blue staring unwavering into green. “You didn’t, Mulder. And you won’t.” She took a deep breath. “You’re just hungry, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding shakily. “Speaking of which.” He pushed himself to his feet and crossed to the microwave, fishing out the container and pulling back the lid. His face twisted and fell as a rancid, metallic smell wafted through the room.

“No good?” she asked, nose wrinkling.

“It’s gone all lumpy.”

“Coagulation,” she explained, the medical doctor inside her rising to the surface. “Clotting factors catalyze plasma proteins into sticky threads, forming gel-like clumps that slow blood loss from a wound.”

“Charming. It looks like tapioca pudding that’s been left out for a few centuries.”

Her stomach turned at that mental image. “I don’t know much about your new… dietary requirements… but I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t eat that.”

He sighed, closing the lid and dropping the whole container into the wastebasket beside the mini fridge. “It’s okay, Scully. I can wait.”

“No,” she said matter-of-factly. “You can’t. Mulder, you’re barely standing. You won’t be able to hold yourself back much longer, and you won’t be any help with research tonight.” She laughed, though there was no joy in it. “You can’t even make it through a single stakeout shift without a sack of junk food, and that was before you took on a ravenous, demonic parasite.”

Her voice grew hollow and detached as she realized what she needed to do. “If you snap and… hurt someone… you’ll never forgive yourself.” And I’ll never forgive either of us. She drew her pocket knife from the front of her jeans and turned it over and over in her palm, hoping she’d cleaned it recently, hoping it wouldn’t hurt too much. “No, Mulder, you have to eat.”

“What are you—?! No—!”

But she had already flipped open the blade and pressed it into the creamy flesh of her forearm, below the bend of her elbow. She pushed a little harder, letting a thick bead of blood well up before slashing firmly downward, opening herself to him with a small whimper of pain. Thick rivulets of red, glimmering like jewels, trickled down her pale skin, pooling in the trembling cup of her hand.

Mulder managed to hold her gaze for a brief moment, his face a silent plea for forgiveness—for what he had become, for the hunger he was powerless to fight, for what he was about to do to her. She smiled her benediction as tears fell from her eyes. “Just don’t take it all.”

As the scent of her blood reached him, the demon’s form bubbled up to the surface—and its face was full of nothing but pleasure. It lunged forward and closed its mouth over the wound, its teeth piercing deep as it suckled ravenously, its tongue probing obscenely beneath her flesh. Its hand closed around her bruised wrist almost tenderly, like an apology, pinning her in place; small sounds of satisfaction came from its throat as it gulped her down. It moved off the bed and knelt before her, its free hand spreading her thighs and gripping her firmly as it settled between them.

Deep inside her heart, in a place she rarely thought of and never shared, she felt a tremulous thrill at the need this monster had for her. She knew all the legends, the place vampires occupied in folklore as seducers and devils. She could rattle off theories about devouring blood being a puritanical metaphor for sex: the penetration of the fang as it corrupts innocent flesh, the blood spilling from the bite the way some women bleed during their first intercourse.

Hell, she’d seen that Anne Rice movie more times than she would ever dare to admit.

But no dusty book of folktales or moody Hollywood film could have prepared her for the desire that flooded in to fill the space her blood left behind as it flowed into Mulder’s mouth. Her heart pounded, her breathing grew rapid and shallow, and maybe she could blame that on the blood loss—but not the way she throbbed between her legs as he tongued her open wound.

Pity it took this for Mulder to finally put his mouth on her.

Through the ecstasy of her pain, she felt him pull away. Her head was swimming, and she drew several deep, steadying breaths, feeling out the weakness in her body before deciding she was mostly all right. Not much worse than the annual Red Cross drive at the bureau. She debated asking Mulder for a cookie; but his refusal to meet her eyes, even as the face of the demon faded away, killed the joke before it passed her lips.

“That’s enough, Scully.” He looked around for a moment, as if puzzled to find himself kneeling between her legs, and dropped his eyes as he moved away. “Um. Thank you.”

“Are you sure? I’m a little dizzy, but you can have more if you need it.”

A small amount of color had returned to his cheeks, but the circles beneath his eyes were still dark as bruises. Even as he shook his head and stepped away from her, his eyes lingered on the still-oozing cut, on the thin trickle sliding down her arm and dripping off the tips of her fingers. It landed on the dingy carpet with a patter like raindrops.

She moved quickly into the bathroom and shut the door; she didn’t want to see him licking the floor.

The face that met her in the mirror above the sink was even paler than usual, her freckles like dark constellations spread across the expanse of her skin and circles under her eyes nearly the same purple as Mulder’s. She would have to return to her room and apply more makeup, and find something to cover the mark on her neck, which she was relieved to see was smaller than she had imagined. She shuddered as she moistened a washcloth and wiped away the crust of dried blood that had formed around the punctures, remembering the heat of his mouth, the way her body had coiled with pleasure even through the haze of pain—and the way his body had responded to the hot pulse of her blood in his mouth. Maybe it was a good thing Mulder couldn’t see his reflection anymore; she found herself unable to meet her own eyes, and she had only been the vessel. How must he have felt, drinking of her very life?

In the medicine cabinet, she found a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide and used it to clean the wounds on her neck and arm. Rummaging under the sink produced only a box of moldy bandages, too small to cover the slash she had made. It was deeper than she had first thought, blood still seeping sluggishly down her arm, and she made a mental note to be more careful next time.

And she knew, eventually, there would be a next time.

They had said the pull of human blood was strongest in newly-turned vampires, and she had witnessed firsthand how he struggled to consume animal blood. If it was a choice between feeding him herself or allowing him to grow hungry enough to snap and prey on a helpless stranger, she would choose to open her veins every time. At least she had a gun and a cross and her FBI combat training to fall back on.

She grabbed a thin towel from the pile beside the shower and ripped it into strips to clean and bind her cut.

As she worked, she found herself slipping with relief into the cool, clinical detachment of science and medicine, pondering the physical reality of what her partner had become, because the mystical side was beyond her realm of expertise. If she sent a sample of his saliva to the lab, would she discover the presence of anticoagulants, painkillers, aphrodisiacs—chemicals to make the victim more compliant and allow a vampire to feed more deeply? And, she thought with a blush, explain my reaction to his bite? Could his pale skin contain some kind of photo-reactive substance that burst into flames upon contact with sunlight? She had seen vampires bleed; what moved that blood through their bodies, when they had no detectable pulse? What sort of electrical activity would she find in his brain, how did he keep from rotting if his cells were no longer alive, and what was the mechanism of the change that came over him when the demon came out to feed?

By the time she had tended her wounds to her satisfaction, Scully had a long list of questions; even without the answers, she felt more secure in her skin than she had in days. Yes, something horrible had happened to her partner. Yes, she was adrift in a sea of paranormal mystery that she didn’t fully understand. But this was not the first time she had found herself faced with a daunting new reality; she had survived all that had come before, and she would survive this too. She was a medical doctor, a trained FBI agent, and a veteran of more than seven years worth of hauntings, monster hunts, and demons—both personal and literal.

She would face this. For Mulder and for herself. She would find answers, maybe even a cure, if not in the science she held so sacred than in the dusty tomes of mysticism and myth. She took comfort in reminding herself that they were not alone in this quest, that Mulder had somehow stumbled across a band of unlikely allies in this coastal town whose sunny days only belied nights filled with terror and death—allies who had spent years battling the stuff of nightmares and usually won. Even now they waited in town for Mulder and Scully to join them.

She stepped back into Mulder’s room to find that night had fallen completely, filling the room with an inky darkness. The lights were off—he didn’t need them to see in the dark anymore—but she found him by scent and touch just the same and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“You’d better get dressed, Mulder. It’s time to go see the Slayer.”

[justmoreocs-writing]

‘Let. Her. Go,’ Cami said through gritted teeth. Alia didn’t need to be looking to know her older sister’s grip on the stake had her knuckles burning white. She didn’t need to see the way her teeth were almost bared; eyes tracking the idle pacing of not-Eden, concern burning behind them all the while. Alia didn’t need to see any of it because she’d seen it all; it was practically burnt into her memory.

The demon possessing Eden laughed. Eden’s laugh with a hint of unfamiliar maliciousness that made the whole thing wrong. That made it harder to ignore exactly what was happening.

What they’d let happen.

‘You know I’m not doing to do that,’ the demon sneered.

‘Use me instead.’ Justin, adding his two pence despite the tremor of fear in his voice. Despite his desire to be as far from the magic and hell that came with it.

Another laugh; Alia tensed but kept her eyes on the page. There had to be another way. She refused to accept the only option was to kill the… To kill Eden.

‘Oh honey, you’re not worth anything,’ not-Eden said, voice almost a caress.

‘That’s a lie,’ Alia said, finally looking up. It tore at her, seeing Eden but barely recognising her. There was no brightness to her expression, no easy smile or lightened eyes. Even her fashion sense appeared to currently be controlled by the demon. Still, for Eden’s sake she matched that cold, unrelenting stare.

‘Is it?’ not-Eden asked sweetly, cocking her head like an interested puppy. An oddly Eden gesture. ‘What exactly does he bring to this little outfit?’ She waved her hand dismissively between them all. ‘I have decent magic. Buffy here slays vampires. Hell, even you have a little box of tricks to explore. But him? I could snap him and it wouldn’t make a blind bit of difference.’

The posturing was all it took for Alia to throw a shield spell in front of Justin before not-Eden struck. It was pathetic, little more than a ward, but it absorbed the painful strike sent his way. Shattered into a cascade of colourful shards as the superior magic collided with it.

Not-Eden gave a slow clap. ‘Well done. Now, do you want to share the good news or shall I?’

‘You’ve got something?’ Cami found her voice before Justin could. It was more demand than question, the urgency of it palpable. Still, hope lingered in her voice; a craving for a concrete plan. After all, possessions and demons were Alia’s domain. This was meant to be her strength.

Alia’s eyes narrowed at not-Eden. Even looking so much like the sweetest of the siblings, there was something innately wrong with it all. Slowly, however, she trailed her attention to Cami, felt Justin’s eyes on her as well. She fought to keep her voice steady, to give them hope when her own reserves were so dangerously low.

‘Yes,’ she said, looking at her siblings and hearing the low, disbelieving hiss from the demon. ‘There was a book.’ She glanced at the demon, saw the eagerness behind its eyes; it really wasn’t sure. Alia beckoned her siblings closer, but kept her voice a touch too loud, laying seeds as she’d done before and really hoping the ploy may take even a slight root. Anything to buy them time, however much it broke her heart to leave Eden in the claws of that thing any longer. ‘Buried in a New Orleans tomb. Supposedly a Witch Doctor who could banish all spirits, even those meant to be in a body. We get that, we get Eden back.’

‘Oh honey,’ not-Eden crooned, before everything went black.

[svftlove-a]

" i have no doubt that you can, " pearly whites sink into her bottom lip in an attempt to hide the smile that threatened to escape. she's always been hard to impress, but for some reason, she couldn't seem to resist his charm. " oh, you don't have to worry. i was talking about buffy, she's the good company, " the brunette teases, an amused spark dancing in her gaze. " average is not what i'm here for. i fully expect a dazzling performance, you have to sweep me off my feet. if i'm not impressed, i'll have no choice but to tell buffy that her human is slacking off, and we can't have that, now can we ? " the lightheartedness of the moment enveloped her, and she felt a flutter of excitement at the mere thought of spending the next hour in his company. leading the way outside, she smiles as the soft breeze caresses her dark locks. " so tell me, jaden. what do you do when you're not inviting your dog's vet for a walk ? "

it was easier to deal with that way, to greet any hardship with a grin. jaden had seen more than his fair share of it—he wasn’t sure how anybody coped with the trauma he had without a sense of humour and a rolodex of jokes to respond to any questionable comments. his go-to was telling people he lost his leg in a shark attack; spielberg would be proud. it bolstered his confidence when there was none, filled him with—at the very least—a temporary belief that he could conquer anything. it was that exact belief he needed in order to ask ada what he had wanted to ask for weeks. “i can be pretty convincing when i want to be.” with almost imperceptible difficulty, jaden stood and supported himself with a hand on the edge of the table. he stretched out, buffy standing to attention and obediently finding her way to his side. her tail drummed against the ground, pink tongue wagging, glancing between jaden and ada as though she was the one orchestrating the plan entirely. “i don’t know whether i can offer you good company, but i can definitely offer you something average. you can direct all complaints to the relevant departments.”

[prose-for-hire]

Choices

Pairing: Faith x reader

Request: i am so beyond thrilled requests are open again! when you have the time can you please do a faith x reader oneshot where the reader is a scooby and usually pretty ethical and trustworthy but they secretly date faith after she goes evil, preferably including angst with the other scoobys when they find out❤

Requested by: Anon

You liked to stick by the rules. You walked in the light. You weren’t a complete saint, of course. But you did pride yourself on being trustworthy. Your friends, the Scoobies, always came to you for advice.

You and Faith, in theory, appeared to be opposites. She was always so much more outgoing and cooler than most in the room. You were a lot more bookish and stereotypically ‘good’ than her. But you did compliment each other. You were both very caring people. You shared values and your humour complimented each other’s.

You found yourselves becoming closer and closer. Until the day she admitted she liked you. Kissed you. Ever since, you had lifted her up. Supported her when she thought you may turn from her.

You had both fallen so deeply. She had never felt this way before. It was everything. She couldn’t dare think about losing you. Much less because of her own actions. She would hate herself for it.

Faith had never had a relationship so good. You liked to communicate your feelings and always encouraged her to do the same. She had never been able to trust anyone in the way that she trusted you.

However, then you found out. About how she had hurt that man. About her working with the Mayor. When you found out what had happened with Faith, it hit you in the gut. Worried you.

Not for the reasons most may expect though. You worried for her safety. For what she was getting involved in. You wanted to wrap your arms around her, try to ground her the way she had for you so many times.

You saw her again but she hid behind that mask she usually used with the others. You hadn’t missed the way she hid those emotions. Your horror at what had happened had read to her as disgust. As if you no longer wanted to be with her. As if you hated her where there had only been love there before.

She was walking away from you, storming to her new apartment courtesy of the Mayor. Her eyes watering. Her heart in pieces. The only person she had ever trusted with her heart and now she had to face being alone again.

“Faith!” You shouted, rushing up behind her before she disappeared. She turned instantly, she always would for you.

“You’re here to end it, huh?” She said, looking at the floor, “Evil doesn’t really match the goody-schtick you have going on, right?”

“I can’t lose you Faith…” You admitted, your eyes welling with tears.

“Yeah, well, everyone leaves. Turns away. Gotta get used to it sometime right?”

“No! Please, don’t do this! I-I don’t want it to be like this…”

“Well, there’s no way you’re gonna turn from any of them – they were always your friends not mine”

“I won’t be able to stop being their friends, but I wanna be with you still… maybe we could… still?” “Uh, but… in secret?” You offered, cringing slightly. Hoping she wouldn’t laugh in your face. But she clung to it, near desperately. Her eyes brightened. Face appeared brightened by this hope.

She never thought you would say that. She adored you but she knew you well. Had expected you to be unable to see that things were grey not just black and white. Because of the way you always tried to be so good. Make the correct choices.

“You really mean it?”

You nodded vigorously to further your point. Eyes streaming with tears at even the idea of losing her. You wiped your eyes on your sleeve, facing her again.

“I can’t stand being without you”

“Even though I’m working with the Mayor, you can live with that, huh?”

You wrapped her in your arms, looking into her eyes the way you always did. Your love hadn’t changed. You had meant it when you said you would never leave her side. That nothing she could ever do would cease your love.

She wasn’t used to love in such an unconditional way. For someone to risk everything to be with her. Your friends, your morals, all of that was on the line. But you loved her. You needed her. Of course you would choose her. To stand by her.

You cupped her cheeks. Palms stroking either side of her face. You leaned in, pressing your lips to hers. It was slow and so gentle. Caressing her with such meaning. Full of your unending love. Your lips moved against hers in such doting display of affection. This kiss told her you would never leave. Never turn from her just because of her mistakes. Choices.

She wasn’t used to such tenderness. She was so overcome with emotion. You meant everything to her.

You would still help your friends and act as you always did. You wouldn’t help the Mayor although you had met him several times now. Under Faith’s protection. You would just be by her side. You loved her, how could you not?

You sat in the library, mostly silent now. You were still your usual friendly self but it you were just a lot quieter. They had been discussing Faith. Again. And you hadn’t really been listening until Buffy’s voice could be heard louder than the rest.

“Yeah, well, now she’s gone total psycho-gal there’s nothing we can do” Buffy said and the force of her words made you wince. You had audibly gasped without realising and everyone looked at you awkwardly. Realising what they had said. How fresh this must be for you.

“I’m sorry, Y/n, we’re here if you need to talk” They mistook your discomfort for heartbreak. And you let them. Just nodding in reply.

Truth was, you were counting down the minutes. Until you saw her again. You couldn’t help it. No matter how your choices now conflicted, she meant everything to you.

You had been daydreaming again. Of the way she enjoyed to slide a hand around your shoulder so that she could lean in closer and press a kiss to the side of your face. How she could whisper things in your ear. Sometimes teasing and too dirty to ever repeat, sometimes unbelievably soft things that could make you blush just as big.

Finally, it was the best part of the day. The bell went and you rushed out of the exit as soon as you could. Straight to her. You heart would beat faster the closer you got to her.

You smiled at her, entering her new place. It was plush and although you knew how she got it, you couldn’t help but enjoy it with her.

She kissed you on the lips, that smirk on her face that she did with the side of her mouth when she had you alone. She was exited to see you, had been alone most of the day. She lead you to her bed, pressing a few kisses to your mouth between the run-down of her day.

You lay in bed together as she showed you the large plasma tv that hung on the wall opposite. You loved it when she was excited this way. You didn’t get to see it often. Her showing you the items she had never owned before. You loved how fun she could be. You settled against her. Just cuddling and sharing your thoughts on the day until you decided to turn to watch the tv.

Your hand rubbing slowly against her upper arm. She enjoyed the sensation. Enjoyed the way nothing had changed for you. You really did still love her. You scooped her into your arms, holding her into you further.

You only wanted to spend time with her. Wanted to make her feel so very loved. She felt herself physically relax. Her jaw loosening, shoulders relaxed.

She grinned at the way you cuddled up to her. She began pressing slow kisses against your neck. Your hand slid to weave between her hair. The way you always did when she got this way. She really loved you. Wanted to show you at any opportunity.

Her body heat and yours, skin against skin. It was pure bliss when it was just the two of you. There was no good or evil. No right or wrong. Just this deep, all-encompassing connection.

She used to use people for sex and then move on so quickly. Before she had found happiness. Before she had found you.

Having you didn’t change her choices or that she had changed sides. But it did change how she felt about herself. She still had your love, your affection. You couldn’t leave her side despite the fact she knew you didn’t agree with her choices.

She moved, your embrace loosening as she pressed herself into you further, one hand now guiding your jaw to face her properly. So that she could kiss your lips fully. You grasped at the strands of hair weaved between your fingers, pulling her closer still.

It was bliss.

That was, until an uninvited visitor arrived. Buffy had kicked the door in as Faith had rolled over so that she was above you in bed.

You both looked over to the door, eyes widened. You had been caught out. Nobody had known about your continued relationship, you had kept it well hidden.

Both of your eyes widened from your compromising position. There was no way you could just explain this away.

“Oh my God, what is happening?!”

“Yeah, guys, could the Hellmouth finally be giving us opposite day?”

“Well, that would make me the good Slayer and you the-”

“You’re not bad” You hissed in her ear as she slid from the position she had been in to sit on the edge of her bed. Staring at the intruders. She felt so vulnerable. So scared they were going to take you from her.

“No way! No way would they give you the time of day now that you’re bad-”

“Please, don’t wig, we’re just… I couldn’t just leave her! She’s not a bad person!”

“Oh, right, she convince you of that between the soulless gropy-ness?”

“Didn’t realise there was a big book of big, bad deception now that we don’t know about. She lend you a copy?” Buffy said, her tone harder than she had ever directed at you before.

“It does kinda seem like she’s clouded your brain with… smooches” Willow added, looking at the floor. She didn’t like confrontation.

“She’s been there for me when nobody else-”

“We’re your friends! All she’s ever done is wrecked your life!”

“Yeah, Y/n, didn’t know you could even consider moving over to the dark side” Xander said, trying to aim for light hearted but it quickly rounded into sounding accusatory. As if they were all so disappointed in you.

That it had been expected of Faith, that she was a ticking time-bomb. But they drew the line at you being ‘dragged down’ to her level.

“Hey, it didn’t mean anything, okay? I just, it was just to end it. Get it outta our system, y’know? Right, y/n/n?” Faith offered. The group still didn’t like this and would likely not let you off for a month, but it meant you would at least get them back as friends eventually.

She didn’t ever want to be the reason you lost your friends. Not over her, she didn’t feel like she was worth it at all. You gave her a look and she nodded once, showing that it was okay. That she understood.

Her eyes were glassy and you had never seen her cry before. She was always so strong. Never wanted you to see her emotional, to admit it. But you could tell that over this – over you, her eyes were welling up.

“No” You said suddenly. Everyone’s faces a picture of shock. They couldn’t believe that you, of all people could be so firm about this despite everything you knew about Faith and what she had done.

You moved to stand by her side, your hand slid into hers. You squeezed slightly, showing her you meant this. That you would always be here, no matter what. That you loved her because of who she was no matter what choices she had made.

“I love Faith. I don’t care anymore, I choose her. I’ll always choose her.” You insisted, “A-and if this isn’t the ‘right’ choice then… then I don’t want to be good anymore”

There was a stony silence where you felt the tension rising uncomfortably. The room that had been glowing with love was now heating with anger. Disapproval. Near-hatred for your words.

They were angry with you. Their faces at different levels of seething. You, doing this, was a worse betrayal to them than to Faith switching sides. You suddenly felt unsafe with them where you never had before with your friends. You stepped back, unconsciously. Trying to shield yourself from them with Faith.

How could friends of yours change their mind of you so easily?

“Then you choose to be beaten. I can’t promise I won’t fight you if it means doing what’s right - and I mean properly right” Buffy warned. But for today, with this devastating blow – of losing you as a friend in their eyes. They just left.

Left you with Faith, which would never be a penance to you. You adored her. She instantly moved to your side, she had left a little space in case your proximity would have created a worse argument.

She never wanted you hurt. She comforted you, enveloping you in her arms. Walking you back to the bed. Your safety. Just you and her. The idea of losing your friends had devastated you. You felt pushed out, hated. You couldn’t help how deeply you felt for Faith. You knew you would do the exact same thing over again.

You had meant it. You had made your choice. You chose Faith. Always.

[inkandpen22]

Beautiful Angel of Darkness (2/?)

Pairing: Spike x Female! Reader 

Warnings: Swearing, violence, angst, mentions of death 

Word Count: 2k

Part Summary: Y/N considers Spike’s offer, but for obvious reasons she’s hesitant. However, she can’t deny the pull feels toward him. 

Masterlist

“Forever is an awfully long time,” I state quietly, torn between the options of life or living forever.

“Um yeah, that’s sort of the whole point,” the stranger retorts as he pulls out a cigarette for himself.

“aw yes, that’s the way to get a girl’s permission to bite her,” I remark sarcastically. “Sass her to death!”

“I don’t need your permission, Pet,” he so ominously reminds me.

“I suppose not, but you prefer my compliance. Am I wrong?” I challenge. 

He glares at me while lighting his cigarette. “You’re such a tease, you know that?” He mumbles bitterly.

“And you’re a hard ass,” I fire back, unfazed. He stares at me with raised brows. “Oh I’m sorry, are you the only one who can name call?”

His eyes roll dramatically with a huff of annoyance. “I couldn’t pick a mute girl to be interested in.”

“I imagine she’d bore you,” I predict, crossing my arms over my chest.

He shrugs, “you’re probably right.” Casually, he hops up onto one of the nearby headstones and sits down.

“Get used to saying that sentence frequently,” I snicker, moving to sit on the headstone across from his.

“So, you want to be vamped out?” He waves me along, growing impatient.

“Oh, so I do have a choice?” I tease, pretending to be surprised.

“Not if you keep talking,” he grumbles, taking a hit of his cigarette.

“I have family and friends I have to consider,” I state matter-of-factly.

It’s true, I have a mother, my siblings, friends from school, all of whom will wonder what happened to me. I can’t just let that go.

“They won’t be a thought once you’re mine,” he claims, smirking at me mischievously.

“Why the sudden interest?” I inquire, genuinely curious. I imagine he could have anyone in the world, why me? Why now?

“I lost someone,” he answers, avoiding my gaze as he focuses on tapping his cigarette against the tombstone. “My girl, Druscilla.”

“So I’m the rebound,” I clarify, nodding in understanding.

His head snaps up, meeting my eyes directly. Apparently, I’ve hit a trigger point. He hops down from his tombstone and rushes over to me. The man pries my legs apart and stands between them. He cups my face in his hands, making me stare into his emerald eyes. “You will be far more,” he assures me with such certainty in his voice I can’t help but believe it. “You will be my reason for existing.”

My chest rises and falls at a rapid rate as I process it all. The longer I stare into his marble-like eyes, the more convinced I become. How could I ever deny him? “Okay,” I finally grant him my answer.

An amazing glimmer appears across his features and he steps closer. “Okay, what?” He repeats as if he isn’t sure he heard me correctly.

I place my hands over his that caress my cheeks. “Make me like you, but under one condition.”

He rolls his eyes, “should’ve known this was coming,” he grumbles. “What is it?”

“Tell me your name,” I request simply.

“Spike,” he answers without hesitation.

“What’s your real name?” I clarify, almost certain that ‘Spike’ couldn’t be it. “And not just your first name either, I want to know the whole thing.”

He frowns, evidently growing frustrated with the subject. “Why does it matter?”

“Because it does!” I argue.

“But why? It’s stupid,” he dismisses sharply, removing his hands from me, but remains between my legs.

“Because if we’re going to spend forever together I’d like to know your real fucking name so just say it!” I snap at him, earning a look of surprise.

Visibly, there’s a strong debate occurring in his mind. He sighs, shaking his head as he glances around the cemetery then back at me. “William, alright? My name is William Pratt, happy now?”

“Over the moon,” I joke with a giggle, reaching up and holding his cheek in my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Will.”

“Yeah, yeah, nice to meet you too,” he pretends to be hard and disinterested in the charm of it all, but I can tell by the way he subtly leaned into my touch that he truly longs for it.

____________________________________________

Becoming a vampire is by the far the most freeing experience of my life or should I say undead life? Either way, Spike has broken me free of all torments and has opened the gates to the world. There is nothing we can’t do together. The entire world belongs to us. All we have to do is reach out and take what we want. Each night, I wake up with a strong urge to destroy and devour. I’ve never felt more powerful and entrancing.

I’ve been a vampire for a few days now, but Spike has kept me confined to the crypt for safety reasons. He claims I’m fragile in the early days until I become used to my new status. To build my strength, he brings me humans to feed on and is teaching me how to defend myself. I’m still learning how to fight in case I ever run into the Slayer or her team of misfits. Her very existence is annoying, such an inconvenience. According to him, I’ve been adjusting rather well, better than usual actually. So, to celebrate my growing strength and swift adaptions, Spike is taking me to The Bronze tonight. It’ll be the first time I’ve been outside the crypt in a week! There’ll be so many people to feed on and every opportunity to terrorize, I’m so excited!

Spike grips my hand protectively as we travel through the crowd of the club. I rarely had enough time to visit this place when I was human. Taking care of my mom and siblings all while balancing school consumed most of my days.

“Oh great,” Spike grumbles, tossing his head back.

I grip his forearm and squeeze his hand worriedly. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“The Slayer and her clan of party killers are over there,” he growls, his eyes directed sharply at a nearby table.

I purr, watching the table of oblivious teenagers hungrily. I spot the blonde Slayer as she chats with her friends naively happily. So, that’s the infamous Buffy Summers. Spike has described her to me frequently. Apparently, we go to the same high school, different grades. I never really branched out of my grade or friend group for that matter. Immersed in the idea of snapping the Slayer’s neck for myself, I move to approach her. Imagine what her friends would do if I killed her right here and now.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Spike repeats quietly in my ear, wrapping his arms around my waist to stop me. “Not here, Love. Wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“But I thought you loved the dramatics, Darling,” I mutter, keeping my eyes on Buffy with a pout.

“I do, but we mustn’t yet.” He brushes my hair away from my neck slowly, planting a pattern of kisses on my neck. “Let’s go dance.”

I smile, spinning in his arms to face him. Spike takes my hand, leading me to the dance floor. We pass the table of goody-goodies and chatter ensues amongst them. I whip my head around and find the Slayer. Her eyes narrow at me, a confused expression across her features. I turn my attention back to Spike right as he stops in the middle of the dance floor. He brings his hands to my waist, pulling me in closer. I drape my arms over his shoulder loosely and meet his exquisite emerald eyes. God, he’s gorgeous.

Seductively, Spike and I dance as though we’re alone in the building. I see no one else but him. He stares into my eyes so deeply that I can feel it in my soulless body. I would wreck the world for him. I would do anything if it brought him pleasure. Spike is now my purpose in this undead life. My purpose is to make him happy. If we were to ever be parted, I don’t think I’d survive it.

“Get away from her, Spike,” a voice interrupts us.

Our heads whip to our side in unison. The little blonde Slayer stands with her arms crossed. A serious expression plaguing her face. Aw, why the frown Buffy?

Spike snickers, tossing his head back mockingly. “Won’t even wait five minutes, will you?”

“Get out of here,” she commands sharply to him. Then, Buffy turns to me with softness in her eyes. She grips my forearm pleadingly, “he’s not who he says he is.”  

Oh, this is funny, she thinks I’m human. She assumes I’m an innocent defenseless victim. Okay, I could work with this. This may be the opportunity Spike and I was looking for, the perfect charade.

My eyes go wide and I step back from Spike anxiously, “what... what do you mean?” I move to stand beside Buffy.

Spike frowns at me as though I’ve lost my marbles.

The Slayer takes my hand, ready to pull me away, “he’s-”

“Must we cause such a scene?” Spike rips me away from Buffy, grabbing my wrist roughly. “Come on, Y/N, let’s go,” he instructs, wrapping an arm around my waist and escorting me to the door. I interlock my hands instead of leaning into him as I usually would keep up the act. Once we’re out of hearing range of the Slayer and her team, he whispers to me harshly. “What the bloody hell was that?”

I suppress a snicker, “you’re far too simple-minded sometimes, Baby. Buffy is going to follow us and I need you to just go with it.”

As he opens the door for me leading out into the alley, he glances at me in amazement. Finally, the pieces are coming together. “You’re trying to pull one on her.”

“Precisely,” I confirm with an evil grin.

Alone in the dimly lit alley, Spike squeezes my waist and tugs me into his chest. He bites down on my lip, peering down at me with a pleased smirk. “You are by far the most miraculous woman I’ve ever met.” Eagerly, he leans down and smashes his lips to mine. My fingers comb through the back of his hair and grip the edges in a fist. He growls against my lips and it only drives me crazier. Will, it ever subside, the wanting him?

The metal door to The Bronze squeezes and I instantly shove Spike off of me with a scream. He stumbles back, still in a daze from our kiss. “Help!” I scream, “someone helps me, please!” I pretend to be distraught and soon Buffy is by my side, ushering me behind her safely.

“I’m not going to let you take her!” She yells at Spike bitterly.

“Well that’s really up to her, isn’t it?” Spike mocks with a cheeky grin on his lips.

“She’s human, Spike! She doesn’t know what you are,” she argues, acting as the big-bad defender of man.

“What is he?” I squeak, sounding all poor pitiful. Honestly, it’s kind of annoying playing the victim. I sound like such a cry baby. Plus, if I were human, I definitely wouldn’t follow a strange man into an empty alley. I’d be asking to get murdered. No, I just talk to them in empty cemeteries in the middle of the night.

Buffy turns to me urgently, doing everything she can to keep me safe, how sweet. She grips both of my forearms, leading me away from spike. “Look, Spike isn’t a good guy, okay? He’ll hurt you or worse! You need to run!” She urges, gesturing down the alley to the road.

“But-” I stutter, glancing at Spike. Then, in one swift motion, I yank my arms free of Buffy’s hold and leg sweep her. She falls to the pavement with a smack. I tower over her with a giggle. “You know, grabbing people without their permission isn’t nice. Where are your manners?”

Spike jogs over and pulls me into his chest. I rest my arms over him around my waist and he places his chin on my shoulder with a cheeky grin. “Beautifully done, My Love.”

Buffy pants, staring up at us in confusion, “what the-”

“Surprise! Didn’t see that one coming, did you?” I laugh wickedly, steadily approaching her like a snake going in for the kill.

______________________________________

Masterlist 

Tags: @currently-obsesed-with-spike​

[spuffyficquotes]

As he gently drew his mouth away, she opened her eyes to glare at him. “Stop doing that.” “Doing what?” He began tasting back along the line of her jaw to the sensitive hollow behind her ear. Her body trembled, but she fought to remain resolute. “That. Don't think you can seduce me every time I say something you don't like.” He chuckled, his hand coming up to thumb almost distractedly over one nipple as his mouth slowly moved down her neck. “Well, that will seriously curtail our opportunities. You're always saying something I don't like.” The slow, intimate track of his mouth was getting to her, making it a challenge to concentrate on her words. “Well, that won't be a problem much longer.” “Oh?” He seemed much more interested in her skin than her words, tracing his fingertips in advance of his delicate lips. “Why is that?” “Because,” she gasped as his fingers trailed slowly lower, “you're going to be dead in a few hours, remember?” His caresses stopped, his head dropping with an aggravated sigh. When he lifted it again to look at her, his expression was a mix of frustration and arousal. “You know, pet, you keep on like that and I might begin to lose confidence.” “I wish.” She couldn't resist curving her hand up around the base of his neck. “You aren't taking this seriously enough, and it's going to get . . .” “It's going to get me killed, yes, I gathered that.” He lowered his head until their lips barely brushed, his eyes still locked with hers. “I'm beginning to think you care what's going to happen to me.” “I care what's going to happen to all of us,” she denied. “The Slayer 's good, but I don't think even we are good enough to take a whole town.” A flash of something tightened his eyes, and she resisted the urge to reach up and smooth it away. “Fear not, fair lady.” He bent back to his attentions, his hand now tracing descending spirals over her belly. “If what you insist comes to pass, Jayne will gloat a bit and then you'll be given my corpse to dispose of. You can dump my body at sea the way you've threatened on numerous occasions and go avenge me by robbing the bastard blind.” The blunt reminder of her earlier threat sent an icy stab through her heart. “William . . .” “Buffy,” he interrupted her impatiently, “please grant a dying man his last request and just be quiet.”

And a Star to Steer he by By Sadbhyl

[cjsmalley]

Giving it a Go:

She was glad Hope was outside with Dawn; she was glad she wasn’t holding anything.

Because there was Spike, proposing with that ugly old skull ring that didn’t fit her anyways but she had kept in her jewelry box since the Love Spell Incident.

Proposing a ‘Mating’. Whatever that was.

“Spike, get up; talk to me,” she ordered, pointing to the bed, “what the hell is a Mating? This is literally the first time I’ve heard of it…is it, like, marriage or something?”

Spike seemed shocked, even as she sat beside him on the bed, “The Great Poof never—”

“Literally the first time I’ve heard about it,” she promised realizing that whatever it was was something deathly serious, “so what’s the deal?”

Spike sighed, set down the ring, ran a hand through his hair, and began, “S’It’s like marriage alright, ‘cept there’s no divorce. Buffy, I thought—he went on all ‘bout yer ‘great love’, I thought maybe…”

“Nope, he gave me some Irish ring, I could never pronounce the name, said I was his girl, but never mentioned Marriage or…Mating?”

Spike sighed again, this time in relief, and said, “when vampires—most demons but I know most ‘bout vampires—want ta take a spouse they’ll do a Mating. No set ceremony, each couple does their own thin’, but the important bit’s the Bite. They have ta be damned sure of their love, ‘cause like I said, no divorce. The Mating will bind them fer eternity, Buffy. ‘Til dust an’ maybe beyond. I know it happens that if one of a pair dies, the other will too—”

“We can’t do the Mating,” Buffy declared firmly, though her eyes were suspiciously shiny.

“Slayer,” he sounded strangled.

“That’s just it, Spike. I’m the Slayer. Capital S, I’ve lived past my expiration date already,” she choked out, “I—I can’t do that to you. If I die…Hope and Dawn need you—”

He gave a choked off laugh, “Oh, Slayer; I dunno how it works with humans—no records of a vampire Mating a human, but ol’ Rupes an’ I theorize that ya could share my lifespan. My durability. ‘Cause in other demons, partners share their strengths with the weaker of the pair. An’ I love ya, adore ya, but, Love, you’re still mortal. All my strengths might become yers. Hell, you might give me yer daywalking ability. I dunno.”

“But if we try and it doesn’t work like that,” Buffy sniffled.

“Then we set up wills, make sure the kids are alright an’ ya get ta be very careful, ya already are careful. We make sure we never fight alone, even a fledglin’. Even if we don’t Mate, Buffy, I plan ta have ya fer a very long time.”

She chuckled wetly and nodded, “Okay…say I say yes…you mentioned a Bite? You have to bite me?”

“S’it’s a Claimin’ Bite,” he nodded back, reaching out to trace her throat, “if we do it all traditional, I’ll put it right…here.”

His fingers were to her pulse-point

“But you won’t…Change me?”

“Never. We could move the Bite if ya don’t feel comfortable with—”

“I do!” she blushed before repeating, “I just…Giles never mentioned anything but eating and Changing bites.”

Spike quirked an eyebrow and smirked, “Ta Change ya, I’d need ta feed ya some of my blood, ya know that, I hope.”

Buffy’s blush intensified as she nodded, “So I was being…not-so-smart right then. But I do trust you.”

“We can put the Bite somewhere else,” he repeated, fingers dropping to caress her covered chest, “I know it’s traditional ta some demons ta have it ta where only the intimate partner can see.”

“I’d want it on my neck,” she assured, “I’d want to show it off. Like wedding rings. Prove I’m yours and…can I—” she broke off, avoiding eye contact as she finished, “could I bite you?”

He used his fingertips to raise her head and meet her eyes, his normally blue eyes suspiciously golden and he nearly purred, “Oh, love. I’d love fer ya ta try. Maybe the Slayer demon’ll let ya return the Mating.”

“How do we do this?” Buffy asked in hushed, anticipatory tones, “Do we—”

“Wait, s’it’s a yes then?” Spike demanded, holding her gaze.

“Yes!” she bounced, embracing him, and putting her own mouth dangerously close to his still pulse-point.

He chuckled deeply, winding his arms around her, “Easy, Buffy. Let’s slow down a mo’.”

She pulled back and pouted, all doe-eyed.

“Oh, look at that lip; gonna get it,” he teased, leaning down to nip at her lower lip and causing her to giggle girlishly.

Spike pulled back, licked his own lips, briefly went into his vampiric face, and spoke seriously, “You have ta be sure; far as I know, nothin’ can break a Mating. Maybe s’it’s different while Mating humans.”

“Oh, Spike, I am sure,” she promised, “if we can’t marry, at least we can Mate.”

He searched her eyes, her face before nodding and then beaming.

“Right, then, submit to me.”

Buffy instinctually tilted her head to the side to expose her pulse-point; she didn’t even flinch as his vampiric face came out once more.

Quicker than a cobra-strike, he had his fangs in her neck; she gasped in pleasure.

He retracted his fangs, licking the mark he had made. Both of their pupils were blown wide.

Still, she moved to make her mark on him; he submitted easily and guided her with his hands to the matching place.

She bit down, gasping again as her teeth lengthened for an instant; he roared his own pleasure.

He barely waited for her to remove her teeth to pin her down to the bed.

It was a good thing the others had Dawn and Hope.  

Wished Away 8:

“Mom, Dad, help,” Dean said, holding a baby out.

A whirlwind of activity followed.

“He is Nephilim,” Castiel declared, having inspected the boy, “though I cannot tell his true parentage. It is being…hidden from me.”

The pediatricians took over as soon as the angel stepped back.

“Nephilim,” Danny said slowly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “isn’t that half-angel or something?”

“Precisely,” Castiel said just as slowly, measuring his words like they were his last rations, “They are…it is Forbidden for angels to lay with mortals. The creation of Nephilim is even more taboo as the first, the original, were monsters more often than not. It is an intentional act, to create Nephilim; the angelic parent must give a portion of their own Grace to the child during conception.”

“So they purposely knocked someone up then ding-dong ditched the kid,” Dean growled.

“Perhaps they heard that we are romantically involved, Dean,” Castiel offered, “and hoped we would take in the child as our own.”

“Well, of course we are,” Dean huffed, rolling his eyes at his angel who shook his head fondly, “I’ve already picked out a name too. A good human name.”

“Oh?”

“Jack, after Grandpa Jack. Unless, you have a name?”

“Perhaps…James, after James Novak?”

“Hmm…Jack James…James Jack…JJ…no, definitely Jack James. I like it, Cas.”

“Well, little Jack is healthy as far as we can tell,” Doctor Peterson joined the little huddle, “every scan we can perform came up normal, perfectly within range for his age group.”

Both Dean and Castiel visibly relaxed.

“We’ll get you set up,” Sam promised her son and might-as-well-be son-in-law.

A servant brought David’s old wrap and Sam showed Dean and Castiel how to wind it around their bodies to carry little Jack close to their hearts.

“Does the heart even beat?” Danny asked Castiel with interest, referring to his Vessel.

“Yes, I have kept all systems functioning as intended,” Castiel confirmed.

“Good. Because babies this young are used to heartbeats,” Danny explained as Sam worked with Dean, “they just spent nine months with their mom’s in their ears.”

“I see,” Castiel nodded, “well, Dean has assured me that I have a perfectly human sounding heartbeat.”

“What’s the likelihood that his mom was the human?” Danny asked next.

“Oh, quite likely…angels with female vessels most often shutdown the reproductive system. It would also be quite hard to hide the evidence of the gestating Nephilim. His mother likely died in childbirth; her body finally unable to handle his Angelic self.”

Danny winced; that would be a horrid way to die and he fried like a French fry.

Within hours, little Jack was all ready to go home.

Over the next few days, a room in the Bunker became a nursery and supplies loaded in.

[hip-hip-she-gayyy]

Answer all of them ;D

You asked for it :P

soft asks: 1. cherry - what is your sexuality? Lesbian! 2. lollipop - favorite makeup products? I don't really wear makeup, but when I do it's mostly just fun shit like eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, and/or lipstick. 3. daydreams - if you could be anything or anyone, who would you be? @delicateladybluebird's wife :P 4. october - what month were you born in? February! 5. caress - do you like to snuggle? Yes! 6. ivory - describe your pajamas? Pink hammered satin shorts/cami set 7. golden - favorite stationary product? I love a good pen 8. freckles - most-worn article of clothing? black work pants 9. twilight - best friend? My buddy, Derrik <3 10. silk - do you like k-pop? I don't really get into it 11. poppy - favorite pastel color? yellow 12. dimples - most attractive features of a person’s face? eyes and freckles 13. sunkissed - autumn or spring? spring! I love blooming things 14. buttery - favorite snack? @delicateladybluebird, but also cheese sticks lol 15. whisper - how much sleep do you get? Usually around 8 hours 16. pencil - do you own a journal? I have some old ones, but I don't really journal much anymore. 17. cupcake - are you a good cook? I like to think I'm pretty good-- I don't get a lot of practice these days, though. 18. honey - favorite term of endearment? Unironically, "my lady" 19. clouds - describe one of your favorite dreams? I don't really have any recurring ones that aren't some form of tech week stress nightmare 20. velvet - who was your first crush? Sarah Michelle Gellar in Buffy 21. paper - favorite children’s book? I was obsessed with reading as a kid, so I can't really narrow it down. I do have a soft spot for reading Amelia Bedelia to kids. 22. peaches - do you have a skincare routine? When I actually follow it: I use a gentle face wash, toner, a gentle moisturizer, and undereye lotion. In the winter I use a heavier moisturizer. 23. mochi - favorite studio ghibli film? Spirited Away!! 24. backyard - did you ever have an imaginary friend? Oh, yeah, a ton. Were they ever consistent? No, not at all. 25. strawberry - favorite fruit? It's either lemons or pomegranates 26. kiss - have you ever kissed a friend?, Yup! First girl I ever kissed was one of my best friends in elementary school. 27. nightlight - do you read before bed? I fucking wish T_T 28. shampoo - favorite scent? Probably coconut right now 29. skin - what distant relative are you closest to? My cool second cousin! 30. aphrodite - favorite actress/actor? Idk probably Kristen Stewart? 31. cuddles - do you have any pets? Yes! Too many cats lol 32. lace - if you own any dresses, which is your favorite? Ooooh, tough one. Either my burnt orange velvet wrap dress OR my gold square neck dress that reminds me of Belle 33. sheets - sanrio or san-x characters? Sanrio, but also I really love Rilakkuma 34. cream - frozen yogurt flavor? I usually go for cheesecake-y flavors.

35. watermelon - do films ever make you cry? Yup! I'm a bit of a crybaby lol 36. sapphos - favorite poet? I'm a basic bitch, Emily Dickens 37. plush - how many stuffed animals do you still own? Uhhhh, 5 axolotls, 1 mini german shepherd my roommate in college gave me, a giant rainbow caterpillar, and I think that's it? 38. roses - what flower do you find most beautiful? Sunflowers! Peonies are a pretty close second, though 39. sweetheart - favorite mug/cup? I have two disney princess mugs a friend gave me for Christmas back in high school. We don't talk anymore and I'm not like the biggest disney fan, but I like having them and thinking of her when I use them. 40. sunset - what are your pronouns? She/her!

[honeybunny-sawamura]

*He furrows his eyebrows at your distress and kisses your soft lips as if to ease your worries. His hand comes up to cup your face before using his thumb to stroke your cheek.* “Hey, I’m okay. I loved it bunny, I promise I’m okay....I wouldn’t mind some aloe though.” He tells you with a cheeky grin taking notice of how red your pretty cheeks are before resting his head back on your shoulder. “Did I hurt you all? Did you have a good time, my love?” *He asks with a shy smile on his face. He’s happy you’re both hiding your faces because just thinking about how beautiful you looks all sprawled out with your chest heaving has a blush blooming on his face*

- Daichi

(Don’t apologize, bunny. You know I’m always here for you. I’m sorry I didn’t message earlier, beautiful)

(oh honey plz don’t worry about that (о´∀`о) i know you’re busy so it’s okay kisses u)

*She leans into his hand as he cups her face and turns a tad so she can kiss the inside of his palm. Her eyes close for a moment as she enjoys the soft and sweet touch of his thumb caressing her cheek. She nods at his answers before opening her eyes to watch him lay on her and rest his head on her shoulder. Her hand going back to comb her fingers through his hair while her other hand tries to soothe the scratches she left on his back. She frowns a little at the few she finds that could be a bit painful* “’m sorry. You didn’t hurt me, honey. And I really really liked it.” *She giggles at her answer then gets all shy when he calls her “my love”. It makes her heart sing and soar, and she presses her face into his hair, wondering if he can hear how loud her heartbeat is right now. They lay there for a moment, catching their breathes, then she cups his face and has him face her with his chin resting on her chest. And she knows she has already said it, multiple times tonight, but she wants to be sure he knows* “I love you Daichi. You’re the love of my life. The earth to my sky… My buffy bunny” *She giggles the last part*

[wildandsexyjacks]

Love Sucks

Vampire!Seonghwa + #37, #62 and #70 from this halloween prompts list

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: none

You stare at your own reflection in the mirror, impressed with the quality of your red victorian dress. Seonghwa’s light steps echo behind you, and cold hands caress your shoulders, soon followed by his lips.

“You look exquisite.” he praises in a soft tone “Need a hand with the dress?”

“Oh my god, yes!” you stop trying to reach behind your back “Why. So. Many. Buttons?”

He lets out an amused laugh.

“Zippers weren’t a thing back then. Besides, this makes it is way more entertaining to take off...” his hands go down instead, unbuttoning the small section you could, in fact, button up by yourself.

Shrieking, you slap his hands away and turn around.

“We’re gonna be late if you- Wait.” you do a double-take on him “Why are you dressed like that?”

He looks down at his clothes and frown.

“Like what?”

“Where is the rest of your costume?”

Seonghwa groans and points to your bed where his burgundy cape and plastic set of vampire teeth lay abandoned.

“I’m not wearing that, it makes me look stupid.”

“But...” you pout, and wiggle your shoulders, struggling to keep your unbuttoned dress in place “How can I be Mina Murray if you refuse to be my Dracul-hwa?”

He sighs and motions for you to come closer so he can help you with your dress again.

“No respected vampire in this world wears a cape, love. If anyone sees me like that, I’ll be a joke for eternity.” after finishing his task, he presses a tender kiss to the pulsing point on your neck “I would also like to point out that D. is a douchebag and no one - no one - likes him.”

You stare at him from over your shoulder in pure shock.

“Do you know Dracula? As in Count Dracula, The Vampire King? As in- he’s real?”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes.

“What? You thought old Stoker was that creative, really?” he drags his feet to your bed and grabs the cape “But he’s not nearly as cool as the book made it seem. Carmilla’s fictional story is surprisingly more accurate, what with the partying and lesbianism.”

Your jaw drops in disbelief.

“You know Carmilla too? So they’re all real! What about- No, nevermind. I can’t deal with this right now. But we WILL talk about it later.” you shake your head, then point to his hands “Now put on your amazingly vampiric cape, babe.” You tease.

Reluctantly, he does as you say.

“Can I at least use my own teeth?” he flashes you an incredibly white, very pointy smile. “Those plastic ones are ridiculous and honestly kind of uncomfortable.”

You stop in front of your dresser to pick a few accessories while he sits on the edge of your mattress.

“It’s a college party, babe, everyone will be drunk and not one person will notice your real fangs as they seem pretty natural if you ask me.”

He shrugs.

“They will after I bite the first one.”

You put on a dark shade of red lipstick, then sigh. Every year, every Halloween party is the same thing… Dating a vampire has a lot of perks but it can also be exhausting sometimes.

“We’ve talked about this, haven’t we? Biting rules.”

He throws himself on the bed in an overly dramatic way.

“Yes, ma’am, we have. I’m not allowed to bite anyone except for you, and never when we’re in public because we both enjoy it way too much.” he perks his head up, expectantly “But... Not even once? Just one bite. One tiny bite! Only one person... If they smell exceptionally good?”

Laughing, you grab your purse, ready to leave.

“You want to keep on a low profile, blend in and look normal, don’t you? So don’t go around sniffing my friends, please. It’s weird and normal people don’t do that. Are you ready to go? Don’t forget your vampire teeth.”

Seonghwa groans again but takes the plastic fangs anyway, and follows you out of the bedroom.

-

Before ringing the doorbell, you poke Seonghwa’s chest.

“Remember: no biting and no sniffing random people. We can have fun later if you behave.”

He nods and puts on the set of fake vampire teeth, giving you a thumbs up. You lean in and kiss his cheek.

“I love you, my handsome vampire prince.”

Your friend opens the door dressed up as a sexy witch. She giggles and traps you in a crushing hug.

“OH MY GOD Y/N YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL!” then she looks at you again and frowns “But who are you supposed to be again?”

You laugh.

“I’m Mina Murray and this is my boyfriend, Count Dracul-hwa.”

She claps and walks up to him.

“Oh, you’re Park Seonghwa! It’s so nice to finally meet you, Y/N talks about you all the time. So glad you could make it to the party!” she offers a handshake and shivers when he takes it “Wow, your hands are REALLY cold.”

“Ifven dedfoshethdb” he explains, nodding his head. You side-eye him, then he realizes what’s wrong and spits out his plastic fangs to say it again “I’ve been dead for two centuries.”

“You’ve...? Oh. OH. Of course.” she slaps her forehead and waves her hand at his Dracula costume “Being a vampire and all, silly me. Anyways, everyone’s in the backyard, drinks are in the kitchen, there’s an ouija board for later...” she turns around and steps inside, but neither you nor Seonghwa follows her. “What are you waiting for, guys?”

“You have to invite me in,” Seonghwa states, slightly embarrassed.

Your friend laughs.

“Are you a drama major? Your costume looks great, and you’re so in character, it’s amazing.” winking exaggeratedly, she plays along “Please, Mr. Dracul-hwa, come on in.”

Before following her inside, you look at Seonghwa, who’s rolling his eyes for the millionth time tonight.

“It’s honestly surprising how mankind is considered the evolved species, being that oblivious to literally every threat presented to their face. Humans are idiots.” he takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles “Except for you, love. But I do hope you run out of vampire-themed couple costumes someday.”

“There’s still Sookie and Eric... Buffy and Spike...” you drag him inside the house “Next year we can be Bella and Edward.”

He scowls.

“Over my dead body.”

“Well, honey, I hate to tell you but...”

Seonghwa sighs, defeated.

“I hate Halloween.”

-

NOTE - for the next two weeks i’ll be writing halloween-themed stuff, feel free to request if you have something in mind or just pick a number from this list. Here you can find information on what i write and who i write for

[jungstruly]

Velocity || Wong Yukhei

Biker!Lucas AU and Soulmate! AU

*Summary: In a world where in whatever markings (tattoos, scar, birthmark, etc.) your soulmate has would appear on your skin too. You were always curious about who he is. Whoever that may be, he has been ever so careful not to hurt himself. You were grateful for him, really.

Not until you almost deliver a speech on the entire university population with a massive dick sharpie drawing on your left cheek. That’s the time when you have never wanted to kill your soulmate so badly.

*Word count: Around 4.8k

*Warning/s: profanities here and there, cat calling, harassment, a bit of violence against women, yAnG yAnG being a side character and giving you a hEaRt AtTaCk

(p.s. I like the sound of Yukhei compared to Lucas so, I’ll use his Chinese name. Happy reading!)

“Not again,” Your best friend whines beside you and you can’t help but look up from your laptop. “This dude needs to bubble wrap himself up.”

She sighs as she run a hand on a new purple bruise on her wrist. You can’t help but snort, chomping on your croissant. Your eyes not leaving your laptop screen, reading what you just typed. “Your soulmate could either be a trouble magnet or just extremely clumsy.”

The quiet coffee shop starts to buzz with different conversations as university students start to come in groups. Your best friend gives a sigh of defeat. She crosses her arms and leans back on her chair.

“I just wish he would take care of himself more.” You hear her whisper. Your hands typing something quickly on your keyboard. “Hey Y/N, can I borrow your sharpie?”

You rest your chin on top of your palm. “It’s on my backpack’s small pocket and,”

A wide smile is in your face, turning your laptop to her. “Done! Now I want you to proof read my speech for me.”

There is no response from her so you look across the table. She was grinning wildly as she writes something on her palm. You chuckle in amusement.

“Wow,” You tease her. “Look at you being love sick and all.”

She looks up with small blush on her face, closing the sharpie marker. “So what if I am?”

You take a glimpse of what she has written on her palm. A ‘please be careful :( ‘ is written neatly on it. You can’t help but smile at her sweetness before scrunching your nose. “Too cheesy,”

Your best friend tries to hit you across the table. “Shut up. I’ll start to read your draft now. Happy?”

“Very,” Stretching your limbs before standing up, your hand grabs your purse from your bag. “I’ll buy something. Do you want anything?”

She waves you off, eyes glued to your laptop. “I’m good.”

 You stand at the end of the line. It was lunchtime already. The place is starting to fill up little by little. Your eyes squint at the menu above. As you silently debate on getting their Greek Salad or chicken pesto sandwich, you can’t help but to feel uneasy. The boisterous group of boys in front of you keep on throwing side glances. You try to give them a polite smile as you awkwardly cross your arms. The blonde boy looks at you from head to toe, obviously lingering on your legs before turning to his friends.

“Damn, I would do anything to get between her legs.” He says rather too loudly. “Fuckin’ look at those.”

You fume with anger. “I can hear you crystal clear dickhead.”

His friends turn their heads with wide eyes. He fakes a gasp before making his way towards you. His bicep flexes as he run a hand through his blonde locks.

“Oh you did?” You hold back the urge to roll his eyes at his extended hand. “I’m Wes by the way and you are?”

“Leaving,” You glare at him and his friends. “I have clearly lost my appetite because of you.”

A loud laugh escapes from him when you start to walk back towards your table. His large hand grabs a hold of your wrist tightly.

“You’re a feisty one. I like that.”

“Let go of my hand.” You demand, trying to break free from his tight grasp. “Please,”

He disregards your plea and starts to pull you towards the door. “We’re just going to have a lovely chat outside sweethe- “

“You heard the lady Langley.” A low voice piped up behind him. “Let go of her hand. You’re hurting her.”

“It’s none of your business Wong.” He spits back. “Mind your own fucking business.”

You look behind him to see the owner of the booming voice. Hooded brown eyes pierced back at your captor. His black hair glimmer whenever sunlight hits it. A couple of piercings can be spot on both of his rather large ears. The tall leathered jacket man towers before the both of you. He is tall however, Wes, the guy gripping your wrist is more buffy than him. Your eyes meet for a second and you can’t help but give him a pleading look.

He sips on his ice shaken tea. “I’ll mind my own fucking business if you start to respect women.”

The hand on your wrist stays the same. “You should watch your words Wong. Before you get beaten.”

Wes nods toward his friends and then back to the leathered jacket man. “Take care of this nosy asshole.”

“I still have business to take care off.” He starts to get drag you again.

“Why don’t we settle this outside then?” The both of you halt on your tracks, turning at the tall guy once again. “Like a real man,”

Wes chuckles darkly. “Are you challenging me to race against you? You have some great balls you got there.”

The man shrugs, stepping forward as he lazily takes another sip. “You have your bike with you, I assume?”

He seems to ponder first. You heave a sigh of relief when he lets go of your hand. You massage it, silently praying that it won’t leave a bruise. Your eyes not leaving the both of them.

“If I win,” Wes catches his white helmet from one of his friends. “I’ll take her and you piss off.”

The tall guy on the other hand lets go of his drink before grabbing his black helmet from his short friend beside him. “But if you lose, you stop bothering girls and keep your dick inside your pants.”

He raises an eyebrow, giving him a taunting look. “Deal?”

“But I never lose,” Wes brags. His friends wolf whistle as they head out.

A smug smirk is left on his opponent, walking pass you. “We’ll see about that.”

You are left standing in the middle of a crowded café with a dumbstruck look on your face. The tall guy’s friend waves his hands at you.

“I’m sorry about that. Wes is just an ass.” You snicker in approval. “I’m Yang Yang by the way.”

“Y/N,” You answer. The two of you walks toward the window where you can see them clearly. “Hey, how good is your friend? My ass kinda depends on him right now.”

Wes hops into his white Ducati before putting his helmet on. A bashful smirk never leaves his lips.

“Oh you mean Yukhei?” He proudly beams as the both of you watch him put his black helmet that perfectly matches his jet black Ducati. “Don’t worry,”

Yang Yang softly pats your shoulder. A glint of mischief can be seen on his large eyes. “Wes won’t bother you anymore.”

+++

“Y-you almost got what the other day?” Your best friend wipes her lips, coughing on her water after you finish telling her everything; from getting harassed by Wes to Yukhei beating his ass on a heart pounding race. You pat his back as you watch her helplessly.

“You heard me.” You twist your pen in boredom. Your professor is late, again.

She looks at you with wide eyes. “And why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why did I just heard about this just now?!”

“I did,” You defend yourself. “You’re just too pre-occupied with your soulmate. Didn’t you say he starts to write back on your palm?”

She smiles at you sheepishly. “Oh, fair enough.”

You wave the topic off. “Anyways, what do you think about my speech’s final draft that I sent you last night? Was it okay?”

“More than okay,” Your best friend reassures you. “You’ll do good on Monday. I just know it.”

“You think so?” You nervously smile. “What if I mess up in front of the whole student body? O-or what if I-“

Her hands engulf yours in a reassuring manner. “Sweetheart, you will smash it.”

She watches you flinch when she swipes her thumb on your knuckles. A frown is evident on her face as she sees your bruised knuckles.

“Oh my God, what happened?”

You shrug, caressing your bruises. “My soulmate seemed to have a rough day. Whatever it may be, it must’ve pissed him of that much cause this is actually a first.”

Your best friend pats your back sympathetically before sitting properly. Your business accounting teacher starts her class with a pop quiz and a long ass discussion. The thought of your soulmate drowns her voice. A long sigh comes from your lips, staring at your purple and red knuckles. You lost yourself in your train of thoughts as you mindlessly walk towards the campus gate after the class.

“I’m sorry,” You immediately apologize when you bump into someone, causing his books and binders to scatter on the ground. You pick up the loose paper sheets as fast as you can. “I’m so so sorry. I wasn’t looking.”

“It’s okay. I was actually rushing and i- hey, Y/N right?”

You immediately look up. Yang yang’s familiar smile greets you and you can’t help but sigh in relief.

“Yes,” You hand him a book. He places it on the ground before crouching. “Yang Yang right?”

He nods, stacking his book. “You look like you’re in a hurry. You can go if you want. I can handle this.”

You wave your hands, shaking your head. “No, helping you is the least I can do. If you don’t mind me asking, do you know where can I find your friend, Yukhei?”

You scratch the back of your neck. “I never thanked him properly the other day.”

“He’s still busy in class.” Yang Yang answers. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell him.”

You reach the paper near him. He stops on what he’s doing, eyes trailing on your hand.

“What happened to your hand?”

You wave it off by laughing. The both of you dusted yourself up as you give him the last stack of paper. “Soulmate problems,”

His knees weaken as he smiles weirdly. “S-soulmate?”

A nod is your only response as you try to study his face. Yang yang laughs before rushing towards his department, leaving you dumbfounded. He turns to you one last time while trying to balance the large pile of books and binders on his arms.

“Thank for the help Y/N and oh,” His grin is too wide. You worry about his cheeks. Hell, you worry about his sudden change of mood.  “Your soulmate is one lucky fella!”

He almost crash into someone again as he run like his pants are on fire. Shaking your head, you chuckle at his jolliness before spotting your chauffeur standing patiently beside a black sedan. Still thinking on how you can repay Yukhei’s kindness on the way home.

+++

Yukhei grabs Wes by his collar before taking one full swing on his jaw. His face hit the concrete. He spits a blob of blood beside him as he maniacally laughs. The adrenaline rush still in their veins after the match. Wes’ buffy exterior seems to not match Yukhei’s tactical approach. He doesn’t like fighting because he knows it’ll be messy. Besides, his soulmate would suffer the consequences too. Guilt washes over him as he glances at his knuckles. Wes suffers a lot of his jabs and swings. Yukhei thinks that’s enough for him to learn his lesson.

“Here you are crawling like a pathetic loser,” Yukhei runs a hand through his hair. “Can’t really accept the fact that I won the race that you really need to corner me here and play dirty. Huh?”

“You just got lucky pretty boy.” Wes tries to sit up, holding his abs. “You really think that’ll stop me from getting in her pants?”

“Why you little shi-“ Yukhei grits in his teeth as he strides to him. Yang Yang interferes between them as he places a hand on his heaving chest.

“We should go.” He tries to be calm. He’s too afraid of what his friend can do. “You know Wes is all bark, right? He wouldn’t touch a single strand of her hair. He doesn’t know her name. He won’t find her.”

Yukhei gives him a death glare, pointing at him. “Don’t fucking disrespect woman if you really want to keep your balls intact you asshole.”

The short boy drags his giant friend away before he kills the man.

+++

A Sunday night is the perfect time to study and prepare for the upcoming week. Not for Yukhei. For him, Sunday night is a party night. After his encounter with Wes the other day, he decides that it’s best for him to let go and let loose again. His dorm mate gives him a disapproving look while he checks his outfit on the mirror. He decides to just wear a simple black shirt paired with his favorite black jeans.

“You’re seriously going to sneak out on a Sunday night?” Yang Yang disbelievingly asks Yukhei. A white towel tied securely on his waist without any top. He rubs the foamy soap on his face. His cute yellow ducky headband pushes his hair off of his face. “We have to be present on the sports fest’s opening tomorrow morning for goodness sake.”

“I don’t think that’ll stop me from having fun.” He swings his legs on their window. His bike’s keys on his hands.

Yang Yang rolls his eyes before heading to the bathroom. “Don’t drink too much. You know you can’t really handle hard drinks or any alcohol for that matter.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He waves his friend off. “Don’t wait up for me.”

And with that, Yukhei is off to the ‘Turf’, a famous race track beside a party house in town. In just one night, he wins race after race, victory after victory and drinks shots after shots. He passes out on the couch, surrounded by wild people intoxicated with alcohol.

+++

“I’m on my way.” You glance at your watch again. “Shit, I’m coming!”

You end your call with your best friend as you quickly drive with whatever car there is in your garage. It happened to be your grandad’s old and dying mustang. Your chauffeur is asked by your mother to take your little brother to pre-school, clearly forgetting you have an event today. It must’ve slip their minds for your mom was hurrying to meet an investor and your dad is called for a meeting in their department. You curse to yourself for waking up late. You woke up with just 20 minutes before the ceremony.

Because of that, you swiftly change into your baby blue dress and your white pumps. Brushing your knotted morning hair while driving. You sigh in relief when you realize that you are just in time.

“Hey,” You breathe out to your best friend. “How do I look?”

Her smile falters as she looks at your face. “Oh my God!”

“What?” You panic as she rummages through her make up bag.

“Have you seen yourself in the mirror? Oh my God, Oh my God…” She repeats.

“And now for the opening remarks.” Your eyes widen with her. “Our speaker is the President of the student government, the College of Business Administration’s representative…”

“Why?” You try to fix your hair. “Do I look bad?”

“Worse!” She screams in horror as she shows your reflection on her hand mirror. You almost feel like breaking down right there and then when you saw a humungous drawing of a dick on your cheek. The both of you start to rub the drawing off with some wipes.

“Why does my soulmate decided to act up? Why now? I’m just a minute away from delivering a damn speech!” You rub your cheek furiously. Your cheek is turning red because of the friction. Nevertheless, it’s working. Little by little, it’s working.

“-all welcome, Ms. Y/F/N.”

“Shit,” With one last glace on your reflection you walk towards the podium. The sharpie drawing on your cheek luckily fades because of your harsh cheek scrubbing session earlier. An obvious red mark is on your cheek. Still, you do not want it the other way. You smile before starting your speech that you practiced a couple of times. You spot a jumping Yang Yang in the crowd and you can’t help but give him a subtle smile. He waves at you before furiously pointing at the guy beside him. It is Yukhei. Except this time, his piercing stare is replaced by a shy gaze. His nervousness can be seen in his eyes as her try to avoid eye contact. Yukhei pushes Yang Yang’s body behind him. You shrug it off before completely focusing on your speech.

+++

The ceremony ends well that morning. The sharpie fiasco did not hold you back from getting your speech done. You rub your tired eyes, stretching your limbs. You have decided to volunteer and be a facilitator on a chess match. It is almost 10 in the evening. You aren’t aware that you have taken a nap that long. A warm hand touches your shoulder.

“Thank you for assisting me in today’s chess match love.” The old librarian softly says.

You place a hand on top of hers. “No worries Mrs. Potts. You go ahead to your grandson’s birthday party.”

“I’ll lock this room for you.” You sweetly smile before grabbing your sling bag. She waves her hand as she walks toward the door.

“Thank you Y/N and make sure you do.” She flies you a kiss. “The physics department are kind of strict with their classrooms.”

You watch her disappear from the hallway. You double check the room before you lock it up. Your heels click as you walk down when a faint light coming from another classroom near the exit catches your attention. You curiously peek from the door. A guy’s back is turn against you. His hands writing in lightning speed as he answers a complicated equation. The sound of chalkboard screeching bounce back on the empty classroom and you can’t help but marvel at his speed. You can see his muscle flex  through his white shirt.

“Yukhei always loves physics.” You almost have a heart attack when someone whispers behind you. You look behind and you see Yang Yang staring intently at his friend. “He basically sucks at every subject except physics. He literally breathes and eats physics. He solves it if he’s stress or if he’s bored or if he just wants to have some ‘fun’ as he says”

The both of you stare at his back as he continues to solve. “That’s mainly the reason why he’s the best at racing.”

“It’s his secret.” He whispers beside you. You are in awe as you watch him get lost in his own little world. Smiling to yourself, you walk towards the exit.

“Hey Y/N, don’t you want to go to Lucas?” He waves a paper bag. “I bought dinner. Maybe you can join us.”

“Thanks but I think I’ll pass for now.” You rummaged through your purse before handing a small box to him. “Hand this to Lucas. It’s a small token of gratitude.”

He nods before you head to the parking lot. You must’ve judged Lucas quickly to be surprised by his ability. You really thought that he’s just a black leathered jacket wearing guy with a bunch of piercings who rides his motorbike to escape his responsibilities and what not. It turns out, Yukhei is something more. Because of that, you get more drawn to him. You remember his shy gaze when you were at the podium. His deep ass voice and his dark brown eyes. If you look closely, he has a cute baby face behind his dark and strong façade.

Your cheeks blush as you hurriedly look for your car keys. “Cute? You think he’s cute? I m-mean yes he is but-“

You talk to yourself in the empty parking lot. You curse when you accidentally drop your keys.

“You really think that I’ll leave you that easily baby?” Blood runs out from your face and you freeze at your spot. “Nice speech by the way.”

You gulp, slowly turning your head. “What do you want this time dickhead?”

He shrugs slowly striding towards you. His blonde hair glistened under the parking’s light post. “I’m just here for the unfinished business and fucking Wong can’t stop me this time.”

+++

“How fast did you finish it this time?” Yang Yang places the paper bag’s contents on top of the teacher’s table before propping himself up.

Yukhei looks at his watch, popping a sushi on his mouth. He chews before answering. “3 minutes and half. A minute quicker than last time.”

His friend nods as they devour their meal. Yang Yang grabs the small box from his pocket before throwing it at him.

“Catch,” With fast reflexes, he did. “It’s from Y/N.”

Yukhei coughs out the stuck suchi rice from his throat. “What? How?”

He grins before putting his chopsticks down. “She saw you solving that. She asked me to give it to you before she heads out. I invited her to dinner actually but she declined.”

A soft smile is evident on Yukhei’s face as he carefully opens the small box. His cheeks blush furiously when he sees a silver key holder with a small motorbike charm. He immediately grabs his keys from his pocket.

“You’re blushing.” His friend teases. “Who would’ve thought that your freshie crush turned out to be your soulmate? This is like an early senior year gift. I’m jealous.”

“Shut up.” Yukhei tucks the new keyring back his pocket. His old one already in the trash bin. His friend laughs and he can’t help but be thankful for him. If it weren’t for Yang Yang’s clumsy ass back then, he would not know that his bruises on his knuckles from his fight with Wes are on yours too. He can’t help but feel extremely guilty because of his own carelessness the day before your speech. The faded dick drawing on your reddened cheek makes him frustrated and disappointed at himself. He made a mental promise to be more extra careful with everything. He does not want you to be hurt, ever again.

“Thanks bro,” Yang Yang makes a thumbs up at him.

He chomps on his sashimi. “When will you tell her this soulmate thingy? How are you going to tell her?”

Yukhei shrugs before walking towards the blackboard to start cleaning his mess. “As much as possible, I don’t want to tell her right away. I don’t want to rush her or put pressure on her just because we’re soulmates. I’ll make her fall in love with me.”

He dusts his hand before smirking at Yang Yang. Eyes wide, Yang Yang walk towards him.

“Shit!” He exclaims, “Yukhei, your cheek is bleeding.”

His hand immediately flies into his face. He hurriedly run towards the full sized mirror near the door to check his face. A scratch is evident on his cheekbones. It isn’t that big but it makes him worried and angry at the same time.

“Y/N,” He breathes out in realization before running towards his parked Ducati just outside the building, leaving his friend behind as he blindly searches your whereabouts.

+++

Wes pins you down on the ground. You hiss at the sudden impact. You wince when you feel a scrape on your cheekbone. Oh boy, he won’t get you that easily. Not without a fight. You flail your arms and legs, trying to throw a punch on his face. It lands on his jaw and it stuns him, giving you enough time to stand up.

“You’re not going anywhere.” He grits, pulling your leg down. A scream left your mouth as you come contact to the ground again. “We’re not finish yet!”

A mixture of sweat and tears is evident on your face. You plea, “Please don’t. Please,”

With one swift motion, he swipes you off the ground. Your upper body dangling on his back while your legs are securely lock on his arms. Your light blue dress already rag and dirty. Your sobs echo through the empty lot. “Let me go you dickhead!”

“Hey Langley,” A familiar deep voice echoes through the silence of the night. “Didn’t I fucking tell you to stop disrespecting woman if you want your balls intact?”

The blinding headlights of Yukhei’s Ducati blinds you for a second. Like a deer caught in headlights, Wes puts you down. Your heart sinks when your eyes meet Yukhei’s. His death glare is replace by a worried look. You bite your lips as tears threaten to fall from your cheek. He turns his attention back to Wes, striding towards the both of you.

“I called the cops so if you don’t want to be put behind bars then I suggest you scramble back home.”

“How about a fucking no Wong?” He hides you behind him. “How about we fight like men. Huh?

“Oh for Christ’s sake Langley!” Yukhei’s voice booms. “This is not pre-school anymore! Let her go before the cops come for your ass.”

“You’re bluffing,” He bluntly answers before he hears sirens coming from afar. His eyes widen before he runs away.

“This is not over yet!” Wes shouts before sprinting for his life. You watch him disappear out of your sight before turning back to Yukhei. He sprints towards you, engulfing you into a tight hug. The calming smell of musk and mint fills your senses. You melt in his arms, bursting into tears.

“I’m here, I’m here.” He cooes. His large warm arms pull you tighter to his chest. Pushing back your hair, he looks down at you. “Look at me darling,”

Your teary eyes meet his calming brown orbs. “You’re safe now. I’m here,”

This make you burst into tears, burying your face into his chest. “I-I thought no o-one will come a-and…”

“Nothing’s going to hurt you now, okay?” Your terrified sobs make Yukhei’s heart break into tiny little pieces as he strokes your hair.

“Darling, you’re safe here with me.”

+++

You sit inside the ambulance. A blanket drape on your shoulder as you chug down a glass of water given by the paramedics. The wound on your cheek has been taken care off by them. Your tear stained face searches for Yukhei. You find him being interviewed by the police. You hop out of the van. The blanket is obviously large for your figure. Yukhei walks towards you.

“Get back inside,” He places a hand on a small part of your back. You stay where you are.

“Thank you,” You smile before walking towards him. You place a warm hand on his cheek. He leans on it with a small smile. His large hand on top of your small ones.

A gasp leaves your lips. “Yukhei, you’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” He cough, slightly turning his head towards the opposite direction. “Your parents are almost here.”

“Yukhei,” You sternly says, grabbing his arm. “Let me see,”

“No! It’s not that serious”

You sigh, “Let me see. Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

With a sigh of defeat, he looks at you. Your eyebrows furrow as you see an identical scratch near his cheekbone.

“Y-you,” You gasp. “You’re my soulmate?”

He awkwardly scratches his nape. “I guess I am,”

Yukhei looks at your unreadable impression before walking closer, face inches away from each other. He brushes your hair back before leaning closer. You gulp, completely nervous with his next step. You close your eyes, anticipating his warm lips on your lips. Your eyes flutter open when you feel a long kiss on your forehead.

“We don’t need to rush Y/N. No pressure though,” He gives you a boyish smirk as he pulls away. “We have all the time in the world.”

You smile at his words before scrunching your nose. “Too cheesy,”

You can’t help but melt in his arms again.

“I’ll take my time to make you fall in love with me.” He gives you a toothy grin before kissing your hairline. “And you’ll take your time to fall in love with me.”

[a1kitkat]

smut prompt #98!

A loud crash from the kitchen is what awoke Alex early Christmas morning. He sat up and looked around the empty room, at the empty bed beside him and took pause as his heart stopped pounding erratically. No Michael and no Buffy. The noise was clearly one of them. He reached for his prosthesis but took his time for the sound hadn’t come again so he wasn’t overly concerned. He still knew he needed to investigate though.

Alex pulled on a pair of sweatpants then grabbed his robe before making his way in the direction of the noise. He padded into the kitchen and stopped to admire the sight that filled his heart and made him soar.

Buffy was sitting on the floor, tail wagging as she stared up at Michael who was attempting to scold her for trying to steal the food he was prepping. Alex couldn’t help the wide grin that spread over his lips as Michael dropped to his knees and wagged a finger at her. Buffy merely licked the traces of food from his finger so Michael scoffed again then hurried to the sink to wash his hands.

His bare feet, uncovered legs and exposed ass cheeks just added to both the endearing way Alex looked at and felt about him. He crossed his arms then leaned against the door frame as he silently watched Michael running back and forth around the tiny kitchen.

Alex turned and quietly went in search of something. When he returned, Michael was still in a frazzle so he softly cleared his throat.

Michael turned around and looked at Alex; his face lit up with love as Alex held up a piece of mistletoe. Michael used his telekinesis to lift it from Alex’s hand as he moved towards him. The mistletoe floating in the air above them, Michael gently cupped Alex’s face in his hands and kissed him. A slow, gentle kiss that quickly escalated as Alex’s hands closed over Michael’s naked ass to pull him closer.

“I see the gift I got you fits well” Alex whispered against Michael’s ear.

*****

On Christmas Eve, Michael and Alex were cramped together on the couch. Michael’s head propped on his arm while his other was wrapped around Alex. They’d intended to watch a movie but after decorating the tree, all they wanted to do was just hold each other. So they’d settled for ‘just a few minutes’ and passed the time sharing soft, gentle kisses while talking of past Christmases.

Neither of them really had a happy loving memory so it was more commiserating while both in agreement that this one had already been their most memorable because they’d finally spent it with someone they loved, who loved them back and wanted to be with them.

They quickly resumed their kissing when the conversation became too much for them. Despite the closeness and the romantic ambiance in the room, all the couple did was kiss and share tender touches until Michael asked if they could exchange gifts.

Alex sat up and looked at the four presents under the tree. One for Michael from Alex and vice versa and the gifts they’d each bought for Buffy. He turned to Michael, smiled nervously then slowly nodded his head.

Michael slipped off the couch and crawled across the room to collect the two gifts then he made his way back over but stayed seated on the floor, looking up at Alex with an equally nervous smile.

“So uh at the same time or…?” Alex asked him.

“You first” Michael said as he handed the wrapped gift to Alex with a trembling hand.

Alex reached for it then placed his hand over Michael’s to soothe him. When that didn’t work, he placed the gift in his own lap then took Michael’s face in his embrace and kissed his lips.

“Don’t be nervous” Alex whispered. “I promise”

Michael nodded his head and slowly released a nervous breath. Alex picked up the gift and carefully unwrapped it to reveal a box. He removed the lid and peered inside, frowning in confusion. He reached into the box and pulled out a beaded necklace.

A memory stirred in his mind; his father bursting into the toolshed, smashing Michael’s hand with a hammer before turning to him. Jesse Manes had grasped Alex’s throat, ripped the chain from his neck and sent the beads in every direction. It had been months before Alex had returned to the toolshed and there’d been no sign of the beads.

“Guerin?” He softly whispered.

“I sneaked into the shed and collected them up” Michael confessed. “I uh always intended to give it back to you one day but… I kept it for myself because it… reminded me of what happened between us that day”

“I… I…” Alex didn’t know what to say as tears filled his eyes.

Michael reached for it, took the chain from Alex and gently affixed it around his neck. Alex grasped Michael’s hand and looked into his eyes, could barely see him through the tears as he leaned over to kiss him.

“Thank you” he whispered.

Alex slowly reached up and touched the beads. It had been years since he’d worn anything other than dog tags around his neck.

He saw Michael reaching for the gift with his name on it and Alex immediately began to panic.

“No!” Alex cried out as he made to snatch the gift back.

“Alex?” Michael frowned at him.

“Guerin, don’t! Let me get you something… else”

“Why?”

“I can’t… you can’t… not after this”

Michael raised an eyebrow at Alex and grasped his hand.

“Alex, there could be a lump of coal in here and I would still love it” he assured him “because it's from you”

When Alex opened his mouth to protest, Michael kissed him. He stayed on the floor while he tore at the wrapping to reveal a novelty Christmas sweater. It looked just like the ones in the bad movies and cheesy TV specials; it was similar to the one he’d eyed off in Alex’s closet several times but the pattern was slightly different. It was Christmas coloured but instead of snowflakes and candy canes, the images were of UFOs and aliens.

His hand immediately covered his mouth to hold back a gasp of surprise as tears filled his own eyes.

Alex tried to grasp it, to take the sweater from Michael but he refused to give it up.

“I’m sorry” Alex whispered “It was a stupid idea and-”

Michael cut off his protests with a single kiss.

“I love it” he replied. “And I love you”

*****

“It fits amazingly” Michael replied with a wide smile.

Alex’s hand slid under the sweater to caress Michael’s lower back. He pressed in even closer so Alex could feel his morning excitement against his thigh.

“Are you sure I can’t take it off?” Alex asked him.

“No!” Michael hissed. “I plan to live in it for the rest of my life”

“You don’t… don’t have to act all-”

“I’m not!”

Michael reached up and wrapped his arms around Alex’s neck, looked into his eyes and spoke with honest sincerity.

“This is the sweetest gift I’ve ever gotten” he insisted “it’s thoughtful and personal and it… it means something. I love it and I truly mean it”

“Are you sure it’s not-”

“Alex, will you please stop fretting?”

He leaned over and nuzzled his face against Alex’s neck.

“Should I show you how much I love it?” Michael murmured in his ear.

“Oh? How exactly do you plan to do that?”

Michael pulled away and took both of Alex’s hands in his then he led him into the living room. He gently pushed Alex onto the couch then climbed into his lap, straddling his thighs. Michael reached up and fingered the beaded necklace around Alex’s neck.

“I see this fits you well” Michael whispered.

Alex smiled then ran his hands up Michael’s naked thighs to cup his cheeks. Michael leaned in and kissed his neck.

“I love this” he continued “and I love you”

Michael trailed his caress down Alex’s naked chest then slipped his hand inside his love’s pants to grasp his cock. He leaned in and captured his lips in a deep kiss. Alex groaned into the kiss and thrust into Michael’s hand.

As they exchanged kisses, Michael pulled Alex’s hardness free and took both their cocks into his hand. He worked them both inunison as they ground against each other.

“I love you” Alex whispered against Michael’s lips.

“Don’t mess my sweater” Michael gasped.

He lifted the knitted sweater just enough but Michael positioned themselves just right and the couple came within seconds of each other all over Alex’s naked chest.

“Merry Christmas, baby” Michael whispered. He reached for Alex’s hand, raised it to his lips and softly kissed his palm while Alex smiled up at him. “You really do love it, don’t you?” Alex asked him. “I told you, I love both you and my sweater”