#william the bloody x reader

[evvyyypeters-fics]

Forbidden Fruit

William ‘Spike’ Pratt x f!reader

Word count: 5k+

Warnings: smut, pnv, period sex, Spike is a munch, porn w/ plot (sort of), absolutely feral shit, filthy, toe-curling bloody sex with the slutty bad-boy vampire himself, cringe, very specific characterization of Y/N, possible OOC Spike? (idk it's kind of hard to write a British accent lowkey), lots of banter, only like two uses of Y/N, mentions of Xander Harris, idk what else to add--that's it ig. It's some down-bad aah shi ok?

Author's note: My first fic in a whilleeee, hyperfixations always get me motivated. I’m back for now, but only to rant about my latest obsession. I'm actually surprised there was no period sex in BTVS. I mean for a pretty progressive y2k show about sweaty vampire romance and killing and there's not even an implication of periods let alone period sex? Not even a little quip or comment? Either that was too taboo even for BTVS or the writers weren't creative enough to think outside the box. (Either way, I come to serve the people).

It’s already been three days since Spike had that muzzle installed in his head. He refuses to stop complaining about it, and I don’t entirely blame the guy. Technically speaking, for a vampire, being physically modified to prevent the most natural of their instincts is like being forcefully castrated like some wild animal. Sure, it might be for the better and greater good, but it’s still sure to cause some discomfort and distress to said subject. Especially if they are a malicious, murdering monster and not a horny puppy. Though, when it comes to Spike, two things can be true at once.

Having to hand-feed the bound Spike with a mug of blood decorated with a straw was not on my list of things to do this month, that was for sure. But spending time with Spike turned out not to be all that terrible after all. If I just ignore his whining about being hungry because Giles and Buffy only allow him to eat a cup full of animal blood every day, he becomes quite the personality to be around. Specifically when he’s threatening what he’ll do when he eventually gets the chip out of his head and comes back to murder us all in cold blood in that casual, suave British tone that he makes sound so serious. But I know that he’s just bark and no bite now. The Scoobies agreed to keep pathetic Spike around for now since he has some information on the strange men who have been popping up around demon-hunting-related rendezvous, which of course cursed me with the duty of watching and taking care of him while they were off and living in their separate worlds. Separate from mine at least, as I practically lived at Giles’s house now to make sure the new pet dog didn’t get loose from his leash.

Today would have been just like any other day had I not conveniently gotten my period around the time I began babysitting the blood-sucking fiend. A few more days and I may have been relinquished of my duties from the bloodsucker, but alas, I would just have to hope that vampire senses were also a misconception, just like sleeping in a coffin during the day.

“Leavin’ you all alone again with the big bad, eh pet?” He croons, an all too familiar sly smile on his face as I enter the bathroom and pull up a chair a few feet away from him. He jokingly lunges forward and reaches his hands out, trying to scare me. But I barely jump before the chains holding them tight to the clawfoot tub hold him back.

“Funny,” I reply sarcastically, bemused by his behavior. “Are you going to do this all night? Or shall I ask Giles if I can chloroform you for a few hours just so I can get you out of my hair for once?” Crossing my arms as I sit back in the highly uncomfortable chair.

“Well, if you’re looking to shut me up, I have a few ideas on how to…remedy the issue.” Devious as always.

“And that would be?” I question, subtly quirking my brow.

He scoffs and flops back dramatically into the tub, rolling his eyes. “Well, what do you think, love?” He turns his gaze back to me, seemingly a little annoyed I couldn’t pick up on his non-obvious signals.

I continue sitting silently in the chair, my face scrunching into a more scrutinizing look as he stares me down, waiting for me to figure it out and answer. “What?” I ask offendedly as he scrutinizes me with his eyes.

“Blood you nitwit! I’m bloody starvin’ here!” He sighs exasperatedly, a slight growl in the back of his tone. “No pun intended—” His face drops softer as he quickly chimes, adding as he raises one finger in a dramatized gesture.

“You look fine to me.” I mock him, flickering a smile. “I mean, besides looking a little pale, but that’s just your regular Tuesday, now isn’t it?” He grits his teeth and turns his head, acting as if he wanted to strangle me with the way his hands flexed.

“Besides, we ran out. Xander was asked to pick some more up from the butcher’s earlier, and he probably won’t be back until way later like the others.” I added, though not kindly. “Seems you’re always hungry and sucked your own supply dry. You’re lucky any of us even bother to feed you.”

“Well, I am your hostage, love. Not a torture victim.” His annoyance is almost as amusing as his failed attempts to intimidate me now that he can’t actually hurt me.

“I mean, you always could be. That is if you don’t start talking.” I shrugged.

“I told you guys, I’m not talkin’ until I’m ensured that the chip will be removed.” He leans his head back against the edge of the tub defeatedly.

“Well you know that’s not happening any time soon, so you might as speak up now before we change our minds and kill you for it. I’m sure Buffy would love to do the honors.” I smirk at him, and I can see the flash of fear in his eyes as he foolishly tries to hide it behind his indifferent and sarcastic demeanor. “Though, at the end of the day, we might not need you after all. So, might as well make yourself useful.”

He groans with a slight growl in defiance, rolling his head against the edge of the tub before sighing exasperatedly. Finally convinced, he turns his head back to me and nods in my direction.

“Al’right, I’ll talk. But I want somethin’ to eat first.” A hidden grin appears on his face as if he’s caught me in some sort of loophole.

“I just told you we don’t have anything right now. You’ll have to wait until Xander gets back.”

“Well that’s not entirely true, now is it, love?” He says, a strange puppy-dog-eyed gleam in his look.

“What are you even talking about? I just told you we don’t have any blood left. It’s not like you can bite me or anything, you little chip-thing-a-ma-bobery will give you a nuclear headache.”

“That’s not what I meant, love.” He smirks at my innocence.

Oh.

I go still and silent when the realization hits, my confused and slightly offended expression drops and I stare at him blankly. He looks back at me with another sly smile on his face, enjoying my flustered reaction and waiting for me to respond to the inappropriate request.

“I was hoping the whole wolf-smell thing was another written exaggeration.” I finally spoke out, breaking the moment of silence that was a little suffocating to me.

“You hope or you wish?” He asks, raising a curious brow back at me, still beaming with that stupid smirk.

“Does it matter?” I ask rhetorically, aggravated and annoyed with him now.

“Not to me.” He shakes his head and purses his lips. Liar, of course, he said it to piss me off. Trying to convince me that I wanted him to know as if it wasn’t the farthest from the truth. But a part of me was somewhat grossly keen on the idea. But only faintly.

“Well, seems you’re just going to keep starving until Xander gets back. I can wait as long as we need for you to either talk now or be patient. And by that point, Buffy and the gang should be back in time to hear what you have to say too.” I put my foot down, smiling a silent proud grin as he gives me a look that mimics if I had just stuck my shoe in his mouth.

He rolls over in the tub defeatedly again, and I take the time of his moping to grab a magazine and flip through it. Making sure that I turn over each page with an annoying crinkle so that he knows my presence is still there, even as he attempts to nap, which most likely is just his attempt at pretending to sleep so that I’ll consider not breaking the silence with the annoying slice of loud paper wringing through the not-so-cozy acoustic bathroom. Which of course didn’t work on me.

For some reason, it began to feel like the Scoobies had been gone forever, and it was still dark outside. I kept checking the clock every few minutes even though it had felt like an hour each time. Normally when I babysat Spike the time seemed to go by quite quickly. It must be the subtly charged silence as I keep praying the minutes start passing quicker. Not even the books and magazines were helping it drive by. At the same time, I realized that my cramps were starting to worsen and I wanted to cry. Partially from the pain, but mainly because today felt like the worst day. The timing is so perfect it’s painful. Having to watch Spike the neutered dog while everyone is away, getting my period a few hours earlier, the worsening cramps, the hours seemingly taking forever to pass. Maybe it’s another demon who's playing tricks on me to drive me crazy with my worst nightmares. I’m sure something like that exists.

Spike hears the soft hitch of my pained breath as I clutch my abdomen, cupping my angry uterus lashing out at me. I try to keep the book in my hand steady and pretend I’m not in an infuriating amount of pain, focusing my eyes away from Spike as he turns in my direction.

“You alright there, pet?” He asks in a tender, concerned tone. But as I raise my eyes to him, I catch the shit-eating grin on his face that’s just dying to tell me ‘I told you so’.

“Yes, I’m fine actually. No thanks to you. I don’t need any of your help.” I grit my teeth to keep my voice from wobbling and revealing the absolute pain clawing at my insides.

“You sure? You seem to be strugglin’ a bit. You know, I heard that—”

“Just shut up, Spike! I know what you’re trying to do.” I hiss at him, stopping him before he could finish the sentence. I could feel the burn of my cheeks a little as they flushed.

“And what is it exactly that I’m tryin’ to do, love?” He asks, a faux offensive tone as he sits up a little higher and leans against the tub.

“Don’t play coy with me, Spike.”

“Your pouty face is so cute, Y/N. Do you know that?”

“Stop trying to be charming. It’s not working.” I slide away the magazine and cross my arms over my chest, trying to ignore the burning pain still coursing through my lower body.

“Oh, it isn’t? Well, my bad then. Excuse me for sayin’ anything.” He says sarcastically and annoyed, defeated again, giving up as he turns over once more and sinks deeper into the tub.

“Good.”

“Fine, then.” He pouts.

“Fine.”

I nod, pepping myself to refrain from talking with him anymore about this. Moving my focus to the boiling pain that is becoming harder to ignore. I think of every remedy I can to relieve the pain without having to get up because I have a feeling if I tried, I would keel right over. And then Spike would take his most glorious opportunity to run away, and I couldn’t risk that. So I sat in a longer and drawn-out silence than before trying to persevere through the pain.

My gaze flickers to Spike occasionally without thought, catching glimpses from the back of his radioactive blonde hair before dropping once more to the book in front of me. As waves of pain crashed through me I start to wonder if it would truly be that bad to take up on his offer. I mean, he says he will talk if he has some food, and Xander obviously won’t be here for a while. Alongside the rest of everyone else, so if I indulged him, it’s not like anyone would catch us. And say he didn’t give the information up, well I’d still benefit, and we’d probably kill him anyway. It’s a fully ensured mutually beneficial deal, well, swinging towards one way more than the other—but the schematics of it all doesn’t really matter. Not will the sharp throb of abdominal pain making my thoughts stutter and my brain swirl.

Frustrated, I throw the book to the floor and stand up, raising myself above Spike.

“Alright,” I state sternly. “You say you’ll talk if you have something to eat?” I question him–more like interrogate.

He turns his head to me, slightly startled by my jumping up, and possibly the fact that I seem to be agreeing to his terms. He doesn’t have that shit-eating-want-to-punch-him-in-the-face-bastard-smirk on his face, and that makes for something.

“Just a snack is al’right.” He says eloquently, shrugging. “Then I’ll tell you all you want to know. ‘Swear on my grave, love.” He peers up at me through his brow bone, his eyes latching onto mine with their dark depths. Something in that look makes me fold, it seems so genuine and raw.

“Oh well that’s promising,” I scoff sarcastically.

Nerves swim in my stomach as I become flustered with the realization of what I’ve just agreed to. I stand there for a moment before him, nearing close to the edge of the tub.

“You just going to stand there, pet? Y’know, if you unchained me I could help you a little—” He offers, a small grin hidden on his face as he snaps me out of my trance.

“Yeah, that’s not happening. We’re doing this my way.” I scold him as I start to unbutton my jeans. Spike catches my hands with his gaze as soon as they pop open the metal button and his eyes flash. I try to pretend that his gaze isn’t burning through me as I begin to shimmy them down to my ankles, but it’s no use.

“Are you just going to keep staring?” I ask, gritting my teeth a bit to hide the shyness, despite my obvious flushed cheeks.

“Well, what else am I suppose’ to do, love? Not watch the show? Besides, there are more embarrassing things that—”

“That’s enough from you.” I stop him mid-sentence, pressing my index finger to his lips and he smiles quietly against it. God, he’s just thoroughly enjoying this isn’t he? I’d regret to admit it’s turning me on. Especially with that look in his eyes, watching me like I’m the best thing he’s seen in weeks. Which technically speaking, could be true.

It was difficult to find positioning given the small space of the tub that he was totally overtaking.I was starting to regret not taking off the cuffs for him, but I knew (hoped) it would be better in the long wrong. Who knows, maybe that’s what he wanted me to do all along. Though, would it have mattered at this point? My mind was too far stretched to care even if he did, but I was too preoccupied with the look on his pale face to bother removing them anyway.

Positioning my bare, bleeding core over his mouth, his eyes are locked onto it hungrily. Something in his gaze made it unclear if he was entranced by the blood or my body, and regardless it was making my skin feel slightly hot. His lips drained of color from his forced diet, parted readily as I hovered, his tongue practically lolling as he begged silently for me to lean closer. Cautiously, I tempted him. Lowering myself closer towards his lips, it was a warm and inviting feeling, surprisingly gentler than I expected from him. Soft, experimental kitten licks as he explores the fleshy fat of my labia majora, wiping away any mess as he circled closer to my engorged clit. My whole body felt like it was pulsing, I could only watch him from below me with blown, wide eyes. Skin flushed and rosy from the sensation of his tongue darting out and licking stripes, as if savoring the taste. Seems he likes playing with his food after all. I found myself subconsciously pressing closer into his mouth and I only notice when he lets out a low moan in response, his lips pursing to press a kiss to my clit, making sure to catch my eyes as he sucks on it gently. A gentle popping sound rings as he removes his lips and licks a fat stripe with his tongue across my entrance, blood lingering across it. His lips were already stained from drool and arousal, mixed with the faint hue of blood.

I always thought vampires were disgusting, evil creatures, I couldn’t imagine how blood could be enjoyable. Even for a vampire. Especially when it came to Spike and Angel. I couldn’t wrap my head around it, which is why it’s already so confusing for me as to why I’d agree to him like this. But seeing the look of my blood covering his mouth, and the expression painted on his face of pure bliss. I understand a little more now.

Spike grins against me for a moment when I shudder after he flicks his tongue on my clit aggressively, becoming a little more bold.

“I thought you were going to eat my blood, not mess around.” I accuse him, trying to keep my voice steady and stern as before, but it still cracked anyway.

“I’m just enjoying the moment, love. You agreed because you want to feel good too, isn’t that right, pet?” He asks cheekily, his voice vibrating against me and I almost fall over from the trembling that shocks my knees, finding balance in gripping my hands in his gelled hair. Wait, did he say ‘too’?

“N-No more talking,” I say breathily and Spike beams once more, even more amused than before as he goes back to his ministrations.

He doesn’t seem to mind as I claw into his scalp, messing up his meticulously done hair. If anything he seems to enjoy it as he laps faster into my cunt, sucking out any of the blood that leaks forth, dribbling down his chin. My legs start to feel sticky as the blood starts to dry down them, which prompts Spike to lick stripes up my thighs to wipe it away, savoring every single drop as if he couldn’t possibly waste it.

I can feel the waves of pleasure reach higher inside of me as he focuses on my clit every few moments before plunging his tongue into me, twisting it and moving it in ways I didn’t know were even possible, and making me feel in ways I hadn’t even imagined. I couldn’t help the progressive yelp of moans that slipped past my lips, melting into the pleasure. I hadn’t even noticed that the cramps had almost completely subsided from how quickly I had gotten caught up. My hands went from gripping his hair painfully tight to massaging his scalp, and he purred just like a cat about it. The vibrations of his voice and breath against me brushed just right, pushing me closer to the edge. He looked even more like a puppy, being helpless bound, chained, and all, trying so hard to please me and get his fill.

“S-Shit…” I gasped quietly, my eyes squeezing shut. I could just feel the cocky grin on his face. But when I open my eyes to look, his expression is anything but. He looks almost dazed, mindlessly focused on lapping and kissing me clean of blood, utterly lost in the taste of me. His eyes were practically glittering as he stared up at me, his gaze unbreaking. Sweet blood mixed with arousal that made his skin tingle warmly. It was driving him mad, he looked more starved than he had before. As if he had been holding back how badly he wanted it, or maybe as soon as he had a taste he was overcome with the full extent of his hunger.

The look alone was getting me closer but mixed with the quick flicks and broad stripes of his tongue working closer, harder, faster against me. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I clasped a hand over my mouth as I cried out a little louder, my hips stuttering as they shook against his face, a gush of arousal I hadn’t known I had in me came out and he relished it.

He didn’t stop, continuing to slurp away, a little more intensely now. Overstimulating me with a purpose. I squealed, gripping tighter onto his blonde hair, now a mess. I don’t know how I kept my balance with the way my legs shook as wave of orgasm after orgasm crashed into me before he finally gave up, slowing down with gentle licks and kisses around my clit and upper thighs. I was heaving and on the brink of breathlessness, my throat becoming sore from the cries I rang out.

He leans his head back farther to gauge my expression better, darting his tongue to the corners of his bloodied lips that he licks away. “That better?” He asks, still being cheeky. I just nod silently, basically speechless.

“Good.” He tilts his head. “You should have told me sooner how delicious your blood is,”

“I hadn’t realized ‘til now,” I respond in a breathless tone.

“Still catty after all that, eh love?” The idiot smirks. Though, I couldn’t hate him for it. He was looking exceptionally prettier than usual. I chalked it up to the hormones coursing through me, still blissed from the consecutive orgasms.

“So…did the pain stop…love?” He asks, slightly shy. Which was a little surprising. Spike, a vampire who attempted to suck me dry of period blood, getting nervous over asking me about my cramps? Or maybe he wasn’t shy. There was something tender about his expression.

I shake my head. A lie. But one couldn’t hurt. Technically speaking, the pain had stopped, or at least numbed to a dull ache, but I still ached over something else.

“I see…” He responds his voice a low drawl that sent a shiver down my spine. “What shall we do about that?” He asks rhetorically, thinking. Something about the way he says it makes me think he’s already caught onto my lie but doesn’t want to call me out. However, it could just be my guilty conscious making things up.

“Aren’t you full though?” I ask, my lame attempt at segueing smoothly.

“Could it be you’re needin’ something else, love?” He asks, cracking that same grin again I had been waiting for, dragging his lips over my thighs as he places a tender kiss. His stark gaze continued to stare deeper into mine, not allowing me to break away from it. His tone is clear with innuendo.

I finally break free of his eyes, glancing away nervously, not knowing how to respond to him without sending pathetic.

“Well, if we’re going to do that, you’re unfortunately going to have to unchain me, love.” My eyes quickly snap to him.

“Absolutely not. You know I’m not doing that.” I say sternly.

“You might not have a choice.” He says, pulling at the chains that bound his hands close together and prevented me from getting anywhere close to him comfortably and I sighed to myself. Having to decide between giving up or risking unchaining him for a while. Weighing the pros and cons for a moment, I conclude that if he tried to escape it wouldn’t matter, but from the visible strain in his pants that I noticed, I recognized that he likely wouldn’t try. Regardless, I still didn’t trust him when I began to unshackle him.

He flexes his wrists for a moment, rubbing at the chaff marks. Before I can say anything he pulls at my waist and drags me into the tub, keeping me from hurting during the fall. I gasped before I landed and when I turn my head I catch a new stupid, cheesy smile on his face. He doesn’t speak or make any taunting remark, instead, he presses a tender kiss to my lips and I meet the mingling taste of cigarettes mixed with what I assumed was my own blood and arousal in his mouth. The soft, playful kisses turned into something more hungry and we were quickly meeting each other at a desperate pace. He was practically eating my face as I kissed him, and I returned the same energy. Allowing myself to let go and lean into his touch, turning myself and splaying my hands over his chest, my hips hovering over his as his hands explore up from my waist to my back. The hands running up and down the hot flesh trail their way into the base of my hair, cradling my head closer. I had underestimated the lack of breath vampires had when I had to fight to pull back to gasp for air between kisses.

We mutually grind ourselves together as the kisses become passionate, my hips roll against the thankfully black fabric of his pants (though I’m sure he wouldn’t care to begin with), and his buck up and grind against me in return. The bare friction of my core against the coarse fabric of his pants became a mix of pain and pleasure that left me searching for more. Impatience took over me, and Spike latched his kisses onto my neck and jaw as I reached back and freed him from his briefs. His hands were too busy squeezing my breasts and flesh to help me, holding me close.

Wasting no time, I sink onto him, my cunt swallowing him whole with a mutual sigh between us. My breath hitches in my throat again as I feel the full stretch, reaching to my cervix with a gentle kiss of his tip. Our chests heave against each other rapidly, my breasts pressing against his chest and rubbing against my shirt with their hardened peaks, sensitive to the softest graze. I lift my head from his shoulder to kiss him again, catching a glimpse of his dazed expression. He looked even more drunk on arousal than he had earlier and I questioned if that was even possible. I didn’t spend time staring, holding a hand to his cheek to pull him into another fiery kiss as I began to grind my hips. He groans into my mouth, choked moans leaving his mouth gaping for me to slip my tongue in. He responds and our tongues battle as he wraps his arms around my waist, his hips gradually bucking up into me without abandon.

It only takes a few minutes before we’re both completely worked up and he bullies my cervix, his tip aggressively hitting all the way back with each thrust. His arms held me in place to keep me from running as if I would even want to or could with the way that my head was completely numb. Zero thoughts running through my brain other than the intense pleasure coursing through every nerve in my body that was painfully active. He lets out multiple erotic sounds from deep in his chest, especially so when we break from kissing occasionally so we can nibble on each other. I pull at his earlobe while his tongue slides over my neck, desperately wanting to bite me for sure. Despite the clear loss of his inhibitions, he doesn’t attempt it.

The blood that continues to leak from my cervix only acts as extra lube, and causes a mess on both of our thighs, leaking down from his cock and splattering with each slap of our skin. The smell of blood and sex begins to linger in the air, even more so with the bathroom door closed. The sounds coming from us were filthy and if I weren’t lost in lust, it’d be embarrassing. But for the moment, it was the hottest thing I’ve ever heard, music to my ears. I was feral, and it seems that so was he.

I wasn’t even fully aware of what was happening until I clawed into his shoulders, my hands slipping from the back of his hair as a new orgasm crashed over me. I don’t even remember when our shirts fell to the floor, but I had wasted no time clawing up his back apparently as the skin was almost scratched raw. Sweat glittered on our skin, shining from the bright white light in the bathroom. He hadn’t stopped at the clear cry of my orgasm, continuing to buck up into me madly, reaching his own high. I finished once more, this time he followed pursuit, feeling the warmth of seed flowing into me. His thrusts pausing in a staccato pattern. Post-bliss buzzes through us and I lean my head into his shoulder as I find my breath once more. I don’t want to move, feeling too limp to attempt to get off him.

Though, I quickly change my mind when I hear the familiar sound of the front door opening. My body jolts out of its daze and I quickly fling myself off of Spike, throwing him back his clothes.

“Shit!” I hiss, half-hazardly pulling my clothes back on, my pad still attached to my underwear as I slide them up. During the quick minute, we were lucky no one came in, and I take the extra 30 seconds to make sure I don’t look too disheveled before I step out of the bathroom. Hoping that I can distract everyone from checking on Spike before he can put his clothes back on the way they were. As well as fix the mess of his hair I had made.

Everyone seems to be distracted and discussing something when I step out of the bathroom and gently close the door behind me, guarding it a moment before stepping forward when everyone turns their head to my presence.

“Y/N!” Xander chimes with a stupid friendly smile. “How’d it go with fangless? He bore the shit out of you again?” He asks, taunting me a little.

I nod, smiling and trying to act normal. But it feels as if they can already tell something is off. “Yeah, definitely! Man, how I hate that guy!”

There’s a moment of awkward silence between everyone as we pause, unsure of how to deal with the clear tension in the room.

“So, I’m guessing you guys were fighting and that’s why you look like that.” Anya points out bluntly.

I can feel my cheeks burn a little as I realize why everyone is looking at me so confused, trying to keep my face from turning too red.

“Yeah. That’s what happened. Don’t worry, I took care of him. I think he might actually be willing to talk now.”

“I’m sure you did,” Buffy added with slight suspicion in her tone. “Make sure to talk to him then if he’s ready.” She nods, changing the topic as she goes back to talking about whatever it was they were discussing before that I had no interest in at the moment.

As soon as Buffy says something I notice a flash of held laughter on everyone’s faces, even if they do know, nobody seems to care too much. Though, I can feel the judgment, only a little. But at this point, I don’t have the energy to care.

Taglsit (you can be added or removed at any point. If you used to be on my taglist and don’t see your username, let me know so I can update it. Same goes for if you want to be removed):

@fear-is-truth @xkaisxjazzxsingerx @marchsfreakshow @colinzabelswife @dearlizzies @americanwh0rerstory @xrag-dollx @lacucarachapisser @alittleobsessedbitch @n0tonlin3

[edenspoem]

ellie williams covered in blood. ellie covered in blood. ellie with a nosebleed. ellie with a bleeding lip. ellie covered in the blood of others. punching ellie and giving her a nosebleed fight-club style. cleaning up her blooded face. intimate contact: wiping the blood on her philtrum with your thumb, noses nearly touching. kissing her lips stained with blood. yeah.

[r0s3m4ry-mp3]

HELP ME AND @vampghoul MADE LIKE CREEPYPASTA FAKE TWITTER POSTS AND IM LITERALLY CRYING RN

CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY OR WHATEVER

I stand by that some the older creepypastas probably barely know how to use twitter and cant change their pfp💔❗❗

[itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland]

Dream of You (Spike x Y/N)

Requested: YES! Requested by @wtv-my-current-hyperfixation

TW: Smut. so much smut.

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

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Giggles and breathy laughter fills the room. Shared glances and touches of desire. You laid in Spike's arms satiated and content. Your body marked and sore. Nights like this were things if novellas and steamy dreams. Spike caressed your hair as he whispered how proud he was of how well you took him. You blushed and smiled. You wanted this to be forever. You wanted it to be real. You reach for his skin, but it's gone. You're left alone, again in your own bed.

You wake up aroused and moist, again. These dreams are a nightly recurrence, something of routine. Your desire for your dear friend Spike was getting out of hand. You wanted him not just on but inside you. However, you would be mortified if he found out. 

You get out of bed and go straight for a shower. On a lazier day you would play with yourself to meet some of those needs. Today you were in a hurry. It was your nightly date-ish with Spike. You would sit around his crypt and watch tv. You wanted to make sure you ran all your errands before nightfall.

Most of the day is spent running around town, getting things for tonight. You were sure to get all of Spike's favorites, including a couple of blood bags from the butcher. Before heading to the cemetery you decide to pop into The Magic Shop.

"I just need bone powder and it'll be done" Willow commented to Buffy. 

"I'd rather not grind out demon bones." Buffy responded. 

"No, silly. It's on the top shelf to your left."

Willow continued making her spell. She worked diligently to make sure all the ingredients and words were correct. 

"Hello, peeps. What it do?" Y/n walks into the store. 

The scoobies greet y/n as she walks up to Willow. 

"What are you up to?" Y/n asks Willow directly.

"Oh, a truth spell!"

"Who are we truthing?"

"Spike."

"Spike!" Your voice gets a pitch higher.

"Yep. Buffy thinks he's being dishonest, and she needs information from him."

"Don't you need his hair for that?"

Willow pulls out a small vial with blondish hair. "Got it." She grins. 

You look nervous but say nothing. You feel out of place, but you stay. You make sure to be helpful and calm. You didn't know why Spike being under a truth spell made you uncomfortable. You mulled over the ethics of what your friends were doing but instead you came up with an idea. If Willow casts the spell while you were with Spike you could ask him how he feels about you. You're quick to gather yourself and head out with a quick goodbye. 

You basically skip all the way to Spike's crypt.

As you enter the crypt you hear Spike running around downstairs. He hears the door and runs up to the main floor. 

"Don't close that door!" He yells

It was too late; you had shut the door. Spike looks frustrated. He sighs in exasperation. 

"What?" You ask.

"I've been trapped in here for 2 days the bloody door is stuck and only opens from the outside."

"Oh... uh oh." It dawns on you that you're now trapped with Spike. You feel giddy but scared. How long will it take for someone to bust in through that door. Worst, now you can't question Spike while he's under the truth spell. If he says he feels the same shenanigans can ensue, but if he says no than you're trapped here with your shame. 

You wring your hands nervously. Spike walks up to you unsure if to shake you or hug you. He notices the care basket you made for them.

"What's this?" He points to the basket. 

"Well, the plan was for us to watch trash tv and eat junk food. I even brought baggies of blood for you. But I guess our plan is to survive." You take a long look at the door. 

Spike palms his face in frustration. Of course, his planned "date" night with you would be ruined. Suddenly he perks up. If the door is shut for now that means you would have to stay with him, share his space... share his bed. 

He takes you by the hand and leads you to the couch he found in the dumpster. 

"Let's make the most of it." He grins. 

You nod and sit back. You spent the night watching tv and eating. It was 2am and your eyes were drooping. Spike noticed and turned off the tv. 

"You can take the bed." He mumbled as he walked you down to his room.

You're suddenly awake. His bed. You can share it. Wait... are you even ready for that intimacy. You risk it. 

"We can share. I trust you" you say cheeks burning red. 

Spike is chipper but downplays it. He assents and lets you lay down. 

"I'll be down in a bit." Spike tucks you in and scurries back to the couch.

You find it hard to fall asleep. Your heartbeat in your ears. You were sharing your crush's bed, and you were stuck with him. What is this a Wattpad story? Eventually, your eyes close and you're off to dreamland. 

Soft touches and passionate gazes. Bodies intertwined in lust and love. You breathe hard finding your sanity as Spike thrusts into you at a steady pace. Your eyes are rolled back into your head. Chest down, ass up, you were at his mercy. He grabs your hair keeping you in place. Your moans are lewd and loud. You feel yourself closer to the edge, closer to release. His hand finds your swollen bud and plays with it in circles. It makes you see stars. You're climbing, soaring, so close to your release. 

"Y/n"

You can’t speak.

"Y/n!" 

You awake in a startle. Your eyes adjust to see Spike over you. You pull the covers up to your chest as your brain adjusts and remembers where you're at. 

"Are you okay?" Spike asks

"Y- yes... why?" 

"You were mumblin' in your sleep. At some point you were yellin'. "

You blush ferociously. "Did I say anything?"

"Nah, love. I couldn’t make it out. 

You sigh in relief. He looks at you confused. 

"It was probably a bad dream" you mumble. You turn around and pretend to go back to sleep to avoid further questions. 

It's 4pm and you and Spike are wide awake and bored. You try to open the door to no luck. 

"Stop, pet. I already tried."

You sigh and turn to him. "What now?"

Spike walks to the couch and turns on the tv again. You give up, not knowing what to do, and sit by him. 

"Do you have any friends?" You ask

"No. Partners in crime, yes. Friends, no."

"Do you get bored of being a vampire?"

"No. I kill, I shag, and I sleep."

"Do you -" you're cut off

"Wha is this, 20 questions?" He turns to you annoyed. 

"I’m bored. Let's play a card game."

Spike obliges. He finds a deck of cards and you spent the next several hours playing cards in silence.

"I’m bored again." It was 8pm. 

"Let me ask you questions then." Spike grinned. 

You nodded, nervously. 

"Who was your first kiss?"

"Robert in third grade. Sloppy kisser."

"Cheeky."

"Who was your first love?"

"Jason in college. A real gentleman. Before you ask, we broke up because he developed a coke addiction."

"A real gentleman, indeed."

"Who's your last love?" Spike leaned in expectantly. 

You chuckled, nervous. "What? No question on who I lost my virginity to?" You tried to change the subject.

"It ain' Xander, is it?"

"I’m tired. More questions tomorrow, okay?"

Before he could respond you book it to Spike’s room. You lay down and close your eyes real tight in the hopes that Spike didn't trail after you. 

Dim lights and rustling. The scent of sex in the air. You're laid out, open and exposed. Spike is nowhere in sight. You feel slight pressure on your clit. You gasp as it increases. You look down to see a head of blonde hair. Your eyes widen as you notice what was happening. Spike's tongue played with your folds. He lavished your insides with his mouth. Your breath labored as you grabbed the sheets of the bed for dear life. He made sure to take his time. To memorize every crevice and nook you had to offer. He became drunk with your scent, your taste. You moaned his name like a Gregorian chant while he worshipped you. You felt your lower abdomen tighten as he lapped at your slit, rolling circles around it. You knew he would give you the best orgasm of your life and you were ready for it. You begged him for release. He prayed your juices would wash over his mouth so he could memorize your taste. You feel unstable, as if someone is shaking the bed. The movements becomes more prominent.

You wake up, groggy, disoriented. Spike, again staring down at you. 

"Love, are you okay? You were repeating my name over and over again."

"Um... I had a nightmare... about you...?"

"What about me?"

"Uhhh... You were being attacked... by a uh... demon! And I was scared for you." 

Spike is confused but takes your explanation as true. 

"What time is it?" You try to change the subject. 

"5pm."

You jump out of bed. "We gotta get out of here." You say for your sanity. 

Back at the Magic Shop Willow was ready to do her truth spell. All her ingredients in place and determination in her mind. Sadly, she had taken an extra ingredient in with all the others, a strand of your hair. As Willow works on the, unbeknownst to her, ruined spell Buffy beelined it to Spike's crypt. 

Back at the crypt only arguing can be heard. 

"You're acting weird." Spike accused.

"I’m just tired of being here!"

"So, you're tired o' me?"

"I didn't say that." You turn to him, exhausted and embarrassed. 

Pounding comes from the outside of the crypt. Buffy kicks down the door and goes straight for Spike. You're left standing there. 

"Where's the next big bad?" Buffy questioned Spike. 

"I already told you; I don't know." Spike looks helpless.

"You're lying. Why is the spell not working" Buffy shakes Spike. 

"What spell?" Spike asks.

"A truth spell for you." You chime in without your consent. 

Both Spike and Buffy look at you. Spike was surprised and Buffy annoyed. You were confused at your own statement. You didn't intend to tell the truth. 

Buffy punches Spike a couple of times before questioning him again. When she didn't get an answer, she dropped him and walked away furious. 

You just stand there until you remember your fight with Spike. You had to get out of there. 

"Oh, no you don't" Spike grabs your forearms. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I've been having sexual dreams about you." You blurt out before you can stop yourself. Your free hand flies to your mouth. You mentally reprimand yourself. 

Spike takes in what you said. A grin painted on his face.

"You don't say, love. Out of curiosity, what are we doing in these sexual dreams" He leans in. 

Your eyes widen and your mouth starts moving. You tell him about the lewd and lustful acts you have dreamed about. You confess to waking up wet and pent up. You put yourself out there in display for him to ravage the carnage of your secrets. 

Spike's face hurts from smiling so wide. 

"Now tell me, why would you have these dreams about us?"

You try to bite your tongue but it's too late, "Cause I’m in love with you."

Spike wastes no time claiming your mouth. He memorizes how you taste, how soft your lips are, the way you closed your eyes to kiss him. 

"Ler me show you what I can really do." He whispers against your lips. 

He picks you up bridal style and walks you down to his bedroom. With care he places you on his bed. He climbs on top of you, kissing you as he settles between your legs. 

Impatient, you start tugging at his clothes trying to get them off. 

"Easy. All in its due time." He says. 

He trails kisses down you jaw to your neck, nipping on his way down. Carefully, he removes your shirt and your bra. You resist the urge to cover yourself from his prying eyes. His gaze is lustful, like a predator eyeing his prey. 

His mouth makes a path between you neck all the way to your breast. With great care he places his mouth on your left nipple, giving it the attention it deserved. With his right hand he massaged your right breast. All synchronous so as to stimulate you and prepare you for what’s coming next. He alternated between breasts, sending little jolts of pleasure through your body. 

With little haste he made his way to your abdomen and found his way to his prize. He nestled himself between your legs inhaling your scent. Without much wait he dived in, lapping at your folds, twisting his tongue on your clit, memorizing your taste. 

You gripped the bed sheets as hard as you could. Your back arching, reaching for him. Your body was alive and electric. He didn't slow down his assault, giving you no space for a deep breath. You moan and beg. You're at odds with yourself. You need release but want to savor the moment.

Spike is observant of the rise and fall of your chest. He tracks your moans and whimpers as he plays with speed and pressure. He has never been this hungry. He decided that he wants to have you wash over him. He wants your release. He inserts two fingers in you while still lapping at your clit. He chases your orgasm with his nimble hands and expert tongue. You swear that your soul is being exorcised out of your body as you crash and spill all over with your release. You're a whimpering, shaking mess. You gasp for air as you slowly land back in your body. 

As you look down you see Spike, still between your legs, grinning. Pleased but not satisfied, yet. You make a move to stand up, but he's on you faster than you can speak. He claims your mouth, inviting you to taste yourself on his lips. You're drunk on your own taste on his tongue. 

As you passionately make out, Spike makes quick work of his clothes. He's ready to claim you. You're giddy and pliant. 

"Are you gonna be a good girl for me?" He asks.

You nod, unable to form a single word. 

When he finally releases his erection from his pants you're surprised. How are you going to take all of him? He's so big and hard. Spike can read the uncertainty in your face. He cups your cheek gently and places his forehead against yours. 

"It'll be alright. If it's too much just tap me on the arm and I'll stop."

You nod again, determined. 

He teases your entrance and clit by rubbing the head of his cock back and forth. Slowly entering you every now and then but then retreating from your entrance, so as to prepare you for his size. Your whimpers fill the room. You want him so much. He can tell you're getting impatient, so he aligns himself and slowly enters you. He stays still, letting you acclimate to his size. Your breath is labored, you're almost delirious with pleasure. You can't believe this is happening. 

He slowly moves, rocking back and forth, giving you a rhythm to hold on to. You moan in tandem. Your eyes brimming in tears from the pleasure. 

"Look at you, taking me so well." Spike praises you. 

You give a lustful smile, too lost to register his words. 

He picks up the pace. Thrusting in and out, in and out. Giving you what you asked for. Giving you heaven on earth. You beg for him to go deeper. You needed him completely. Spike chuckles and thrusts harder. His movements are rough and long, giving you a chance to feel every vein and curvature on his cock. You push up against him with your hips, meeting his every thrust. He looks down at you, drunk on sex, admiring how beautiful you look out of breath and disheveled. 

He feels your legs shaking. He can tell you're close. 

"Are you gonna come for me, love? I want to hear you say my name. Remember who’s taking you.”

You can barely nod as you chase your orgasm, focusing on his movements. Taking him all into you. Memorizing how he feels and how he makes you feel. 

Your body ceases and you gasp as your orgasm crashes over you, like a tidal wave. Your veins are full of electricity. You’re seeing stars. You hold onto him while you repeat his name, over ad over again. Music to his ears. Spike holds you, never stopping his fierce thrusts. He wants you to remember who is claiming you.

"Good girl" he litters your face with kisses as you work to regain your breath. 

Spike never slows down, chasing his own high. Seeing you spent and tired knowing that he caused it makes him inch closer. He continues to thrust in you, sending aftershock ripples into you as he finds his own release. He fills you to the brim with his seed. He makes you his. 

You both stay connected. Breathing heavy. Satiated and in awe. He eventually pulls out of you with a little shiver. He lays down by your side pulling you close to him. You're both silly with pleasure, spent and happy. 

"Wow." Was all you could say.

"There's more where that came from. Rest up, because we have a lot of catching up to do."

You giggle, giddy for what your future with Spike holds. To think, all of these restless nights craving him and all you had to do was confess your love. You knew once the sun rises you’ll be tired and sore. Something that you’re looking forward to.

[moriitis]

MasterList.

All my works put together so it's easier to find! Disclaimer; most of my works are very over 18+. most of my works will probably include a lot of Toby as he is the only person of interest rn

¬ Toby Rogers.

Knight Toby x Female Reader. Medieval AU. Part 1. OVER 18+.

Knight!Toby Rogers. HCs. Medieval AU. OVER 18+.

Stalker!Toby Rogers x Fem!Reader Part.1. OVER 18+.

Stalker!Toby Rogers x Fem!Reader Part 2. OVER 18+.

Requested Ask. Toby x Fem!Reader/Long Hair. OVER 18+.

What Would It Be Like Dating Toby Rogers? OVER 18+.

Christmas! Toby Rogers x Fem!Reader. OVER 18+.

Phone Sex! Toby Rogers x Fem!Reader. OVER 18+.

Father!Toby Rogers x Fem!Reader. HCs. OVER 18+.

Father!Toby x Fem!Reader SHORT. ChildLoss. HCs. OVER 18+.

The Apple. OVER 18+.

Toby and Lyra ! Angst. OVER 18+.

Morning Sex! Toby Rogers x Fem!Reader. OVER 18+.

Jealous!Toby Rogers x Reader.

Ask! Would Toby Kill Or Spare Children? OVER 18+.

Jaws. OVER 18+.

Mute!Reader x Toby. HCs.

How Freaky Is Toby? OVER 18+.

Nosferatu!Toby x Fem!Reader. HCs OVER 18+.

Toby x Reader Horror OVER 18+.

WereWolf!Toby x Reader OVER 18+.

Toby Rogers x Reader Angst!Short OVER 18+.

Toby x Reader Horror Ask. OVER 18+.

¬ Original Character Writings.

Thyra, Lady To Be of Lord Oswine. OVER 18+.

¬ Eyeless Jack.

Requested Ask. Domestic Life Fem!Reader. HCs.

What Would It Be Like Dating Eyeless Jack? OVER 18+

¬ Jeff The Killer.

What Would It Be Like Dating Jeff The Killer? OVER 18+.

Jeff The Killer HCs OVER 18+.

¬ AUs & HCs.

Eyeless Jack HCs/AUs. OVER 18+.

Toby Rogers HCs. OVER 18+.

More Toby HCs. OVER 18+.

Toby AU.

¬ Bloody Painter.

NSFW HCs. OVER 18+.

¬ BloodLust. DISCONTINUED.

Chapter 1. OVER 18+.

Chapter 2. OVER 18+.

Chapter 3. OVER 18+.

Chapter 4. OVER 18+.

Chapter 5. OVER 18+.

¬ Ramblings.

Slender Mansion.

Did Toby Actually Ever Attend/Or Was There Even A Funeral For Lyra?

The Proxies. OVER 18+.

Eyeless Jack. OVER 18+.

Toby Rogers. Knight Toby Rogers.

Eyeless Jack. 2

Toby NSFW. OVER 18+.

Creeps Opinions On One Another!

Being With Toby Is Toxic.

Toby Spider.

Twitch Streamer Toby.

Knight Toby. OVER 18+

NSFW Toby. OVER 18+.

Plus Size Reader. OVER 18+.

The Creeps Fears.

Child Toby.

¬ What If..

What If.. You Let Jack Eat You? OVER 18+.

What If.. Toby Lived A Normal Life?

¬ PlayLists.

Toby Rogers.

Toby And Lyra.

¬ Mood Boards.

Lyra Rogers.

Thyra, Lady To Be of Lord Oswine.

Eyeless Jack.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Creep Minecraft World

I've mentioned before how they have a Minecraft world they all play on, and I wanted to actually just randomly talk about it :p

At least several times a month, they all get together to play on their Minecraft world together. Sometimes a few people might be missing or absent, but they try to have as many people playing at a time as they can. Things I've already established, BEN is the one who builds cool houses for everyone (I'm adding on that they're all set up like a villager village, so they're all connected by paths and near each other like a housing development), Jeff helps people the most with mining, and Toby and Sally are both working together to make a zoo for all of the animals they come across with nice surroundings so they can all be happy in there. Now, back to my expanding on it.

I think that they all probably split into groups on who does what, and some people will just tag in whenever they want to. BEN, Liu, Helen, and Brian are the designated builders of the world. They're really good at building and have an eye for making pretty designs, so generally, that's what they spend their time doing. Jeff, Natalie, Kate, and Tim are the designated miners in the world. They had built like a whole mining system and are constantly expanding it to collect more and more materials together. Both groups work together to help each other out, and the rest of the creeps are free to join a team if they'd like to so that they can help out more, but they usually just follow the instructions of the established team members. Toby and Sally as I said earlier are committed to building a zoo, and they name every single animal that they put in there. Sometimes others will help with building or getting animals in there (they have also been allowed to use creative mode to get animals or build something if they need to), and it's situated near the housing area so that everyone can just walk over and look at the progress when they want to. Generally, they all work really well together in their teams, but sometimes they do have disagreements.

Speaking of disagreements, one of the world rules is that keep inventory has to be on, mostly because there was a point when they kept going around killing each other and then they'd get mad because they'd lose their stuff, and fights would happen, so keep inventory has to be on so that now if they die or kill each other, nobody can be upset. (That started because Jeff and Tim would push each other into lava whenever they were in the mines and disagreed on something). They haven't even gotten very far into the Nether yet because they all keep dying or killing each other. Also, nobody is allowed to alter or destroy anything that someone else has made (even if they think it looks really bad and they want to change it to make it look better, cough cough, Helen, cough cough) so that everyone can have their own little area that they build in and they don't have to worry about the safety of the work. I think they also all have an "open chest" policy where they each have one chest with a sign above it that says open, so that if someone is missing or really needs certain supplies they can take from someone else's open chest that has extra stuff they don't really need in it. I'd like to think they also go on like planned attack expeditions, like if they find an area that has a warden they'll all team up to try to fight the warden together (they rarely succeed because everyone is just screaming and yelling and running and laughing), or they'll all fight the ender dragon together, or a wither. Also??? So many mods. BEN has added so many mods to the world and he and everyone else get so much enjoyment out of it. It can be chaotic sometimes, but the Minecraft world is one of the few things everyone can actually usually get along with about, so it's a good bonding experience for them.

[chemical-killjoy]

Mr. Bloody Brightside

Spike x reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: very silly and fluffy

Summary: Spike has a pity-party when he thinks Y/N likes someone else, only to be very wrong

Bloody bastard, Spike thought, as he paced his crypt. Tosser. Who did he think he is, Mr soddin' Perfect? Y/N probably thinks so.

It had been a rough day. Bored out of his mind, he thought he'd come find you, hang out. All the scoobies thought you were crazy, befriending Spike since a little before he got the chip in his head (Buffy didn't know you were friends before hand), and getting so close. Why would you want to be friends with a killer? But you saw there was a man beneath the monster, and you didn't mind the monster so much anyway. You'd bonded over your sense of style, hatred of the man, music and poetry. And Spike was everything to you. Unfortunately for him, he didn't know that.

So it was a warm Thursday evening when Spike got to your shitty apartment. Sometimes he'd dream of moving in with you, buying a better place so you didn't have to live in that shit hole. Put up some black-out curtains and he'd be good to go. But he didn't dare risk suggesting it. He knocked on the splintering door and was surprised when Willow greeted him.

“Spike, hey!”

“Willow, hi,” Spike looked behind her, craning his head a little. “Is Y/N here?”

“Oh, no, she's out with Charlie, I think he's finally gonna make a move!” Willow smiled up at him, not knowing the pain she was causing.

“Charlie, right. Charlie.” He huffed.

“Something wrong, Spike? You look a little paler than usual, and that's kinda saying something.”

“Yeah, yeah all good. Just, uh, tell her I was lookin' for her, will you? And that...” Spike took a breath, turning away. “No, just tell her that. Thanks, love.” He attempted to smile at Willow before leaving.

There were many benefits to being your friend. And one of them was your ability to find cheap CDs and your love of giving gifts. A while back, after seeing how barren his crypt was, you new what he needed. A few days later, there was a box on his doorstep, a CD player with built in radio, and a bunch of old CDs, both yours and ones you bought in a pile on top. Spike spent hours on the phone with you that night, listening to songs and asking which you liked, which were gag gifts and which you'd stake him if people knew you listened to.

And that's how Spike found himself blasting The Killer's 'Mr. Brightside' and singing along at only 9pm. He spent hours getting angry, training for fights, beating up the air, reasoning with himself why he was better for you, until he eventually gave up and sank into the misery. He picked up a half-full bottle of whisky, turned on the song and played it on repeat, singing, crying, dancing and drinking until the bottle hollowed into a microphone. It was a hell of a pity party, perfect for heartbreak such as this.

He was so sure you'd pick Charlie. You sure talked about him enough. And he was such a good guy it made Spike want to puke. He was tall, dark hair, muscly, with a smooth voice. He played guitar, and was teaching you, and what's more romantic than that? And he was only a year older than you. You probably thought Spike was an old man. But he's only a few decades past 100!

But more importantly, Spike was reminded of how much he isn't worthy of you. Like so many women he'd loved before, he was probably beneath you. He was lucky you were even friends with him, after all. He was a shit man, and now a shit vampire. Why would you care for him at all? He took another swig of what was left of the quickly diminishing liquor, and screamed the chorus into the bottle, laughing into a half sob-half scream. He huffed. And then he continued to sing and dance.

You'd know that tune anywhere. Mr. Brightside. One of your favourites, blasting from Spike's crypt. You could hear it outside, and were smirking for a minute before you knocked on the door.

No answer.

“Spike,” you yelled. “I know you're in there!”

“IT WAS ONLY A KISS!” Spike yelled the lyrics, and you giggled. No way had he heard you.

You tried the door, and it was unlocked. Weird, Spike wouldn't normally leave it unlocked... Unless he's going through something.

The sight before you told you he definitely was.

Spike was dancing with his back to you, black short sleeved shirt and black jeans, hair a mess, singing into a bottle of whisky. You couldn't help but laugh at the sight before you.

Spike jumped, and turned around so fast he nearly fell over. His eyes couldn't have been wider.

“Y/N, hi.” Spike rushed to turn the song off. “What're you doin' here, love?”

“Evidently crashing a one-man party.”

“I, er, I thought you'd be out with Charlie.”

“Charlie?”

“Yeah, Willow said, I went to visit you today.” Spike took another, smaller, swig. “You know, I think that boy is, uh, I think he'd be good for you, you know. He's got, uh, stability, for one, I guess, and-”

“Spike.”

“Yes?”

“I don't like Charlie, not like that.”

“You don't.”

“I don't.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! He asked me out today, and while I was flattered, I said no. He's not the kinda guy I want to go on dates with.”

“What, cause he's so perfect?”

“Well, yeah, actually. He's so... nice. He's such a good guy, he has no faults, no flaws, nothing of real strength to him. Like he's sweet, don't get me wrong, and I like being his friend, but it's not like I'm into him. He's too... soft.”

“...oh.” Spike's brows raised and he nodded.

“Oh?” you couldn't help but giggled. “Spike, don't tell me you were jealous? You weren't gonna lose me even if I went out with him. We'd still be friends.”

“Yeah. Right. Friends.” Spike put the bottle down and sat on the couch. You came to sit next to him.

“Spike?”

“Yeah?” He hated how his heart leapt at you simply saying his name, and you loved how his eyes, open and honest, bore into yours.

“I, um,” you said, scooching closer. Spike took a sharp breath, feeling more intoxicated by your perfume than the whisky. “Do you, um, did you not want to be just friends?”

“Careful there, pet, what're you really asking?” Spike could swear he sobered up at your words.

You swallowed nervously before asking properly.

“Do you like me? As more than a friend?” You looked into his blue eyes, and he took a minute to process your words. If he said no, he'd be damned. If he said yes, he could lose you. He glanced down at your lips. Screw it.

“I adore you, Y/N. As much more than a friend.” His voice was low but soft. “I don't throw a bloody pity party when I think a girl's datin' someone because I think she's neat... I love you.” Spike was breathing faster with the words out in the open, and you didn't know what to say.

You opened and closed your mouth, not sure how to respond.

“Really?”

“Yes, of course, I-” Spike gave up, lurching forward and crashing his lips against yours.

You smiled into his lips, and sighed softly into the kiss, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him closer towards you, tasting the whisky on his tongue and pulling softly at short strands of pale hair. Spike put his arms around your waist and pulled you onto his lap so you were straddling him. You stayed that way, lips locked, smiling, then you pulled away.

“I love you too.” And your lips were back on his.

If you like my writing, please considering buying me a coffee <3

Taglist: @fandomfoodiedancer

[theghostinyourwalls]

Sure he’s a scary psychopathic monster, but he’s MY scary psychopathic monster <3

[carmelica]

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?

[auroracalisto]

day #18: "last christmas"

spike x gn!reader, 941 words a/n: angst? angst. or... you can be the judge of that. tw: use of god in vain :P

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart But the very next day, you gave it away This year, to save me from tears I'll give it to someone special

Oh, when Spike spotted you at the Bronze, he knew he was done for. An entire year without you, without your presence and your pretty face. Just seeing you was enough to get him going—enough to make his dead heart rise again, just to be squandered in the same breath.

"Come to the Bronze!" Buffy had said, and although he was annoyed with her, he agreed anyway. "It'll be fun. They're having a Christmas party thing. Just like a Christmas celebration."

Christmas celebration.

He should've just stayed home.

He knew he did you wrong. He remembered like it was yesterday, because in all reality, it was, for him. Time tended to meld together after so many years of living as a vampire. It was just something that unfortunately happened. He couldn't stop it.

Time would keep moving, even if he wasn't ready for it.

Would he ever be ready for it?

The look on your face when he kissed that girl in front of you—a girl whom he couldn't have given two shits about but just wanted to have some fun.

Goddamn. It wasn't always worth it.

The thrill of it all wasn't worth it, especially he remembered the way you looked at him when you saw it. He'd never seen a human look so... devastated before. He'd seen it in the supernatural, those who had dealt with lives of strife, but never in just a regular old human.

But there's where he was wrong, right? You weren't just a regular old human. You were you. You had been his. And he threw it away, just to have some fun.

He'd been a fool. A right fool who'd yet to correct his mistakes.

Perhaps you were one, too. Going out with him, looking at him with those pretty eyes of yours. You were both fools. One an honest fool and the other a downright mess.

Spike looked down at his drink, a frown etched into his pale features. He could just go over to you, talk to you like a proper adult, like a proper vampire, but a part of him was almost afraid.

Afraid of how you'd look at him.

He couldn't handle those eyes looking at him like he'd ripped your beating heart out of your chest. He'd done enough damage by kissing the damn girl.

Spike groaned and downed his drink before he slammed the glass down and walked away from the bar. He began to search for you, knowing that you couldn't have gotten very far.

And there, in the corner of his eye, he spotted you. You were alone, preparing to leave—he could tell by the way you hurried yourself along.

He quickly crossed the Bronze to your side, a hand grabbing onto your wrist.

"Hey," he softly said, your name leaving his lips soon after. "Wait."

He watched as you looked back at him. You offered a soft smile—one that may have been genuine, but he couldn't quite tell. Not know when his mind was so consumed with the grief of what he put you through.

"Hi, Spike."

Your soft words made his chest feel all tight and his stomach lurched at the sound. You made him feel so incredibly human, even after all this time.

He smiled a bit at your words. "Hey," he repeated. "Look, love, I've been meaning to talk to you, but I just hadn't caught you."

"Really?" you simply asked.

He paused—eyes searching yours. "Yeah," he said. "I've got quite a lot I could say to you, you know?"

"So do I."

He pursed his lips. "Yeah. I was afraid of that. But... well, I'll just rip the band-aid off," he said. "I'm sorry for the last time I saw you."

An entire year ago. He's apologizing for an entire year ago.

You'd moved on. You did. He could see it in your eyes, you moved on, and you were going to push him away like everyone else did at some point in their life—

"We weren't together," you softly replied. "I... shouldn't have expected anything less of you."

He narrowed his eyes at your words, but he caught himself from being too upset. He knew you had a point. "I know," he said. "We weren't together. But you were loyal to me and I—I ruined that. I'm not sure if you will ever forgive me, and I couldn't blame you one bit if you decided to never look at me again after this, but I needed you to know. It wasn't worth it. Kissing her, losing you. None of it was worth it."

You stared at him. "You're a fool," you mumbled.

He took your words like the champ he was—in that he wasn't, and he felt his heart chipping at the three simple words.

"I know," he said.

You frowned softly and pulled your wrist away from him. "We can talk," you softly said. "But I do not trust you like I once did, Spike. You're going to have to earn that back."

His eyes widened. "Earn it back?" He paused at your words. "You... you will let me try?"

"I will," you said. "But if you seriously want me, you can't pretend like we aren't together. That shit's stupid, and I will never look at you the same if you do it again. Especially if I'm going to be giving you a second change."

Spike began to smile—that cheeky look he had so often when the two of you first started talking was back on his handsome face.

"Truly?"

"Truly. But I'm telling you now. You fuck up, I'm done."

He grinned. "I think that's fair, love."

[burntsecrets]

Winter's Bite

Pairing: Spike x Reader Word Count: 1280 Prompt: @fluff-cember Day 7: condensed breath Summary: On patrol during a cold winter night, Spike keeps teasing you about your visible breath in the icy air, calling you a “bloody dragon.”  Warnings: mild suggestive themes, banter, and some violence typical of Buffyverse patrols (vampires/demons).

The cemetery is eerily quiet under the full moon, the kind of silence that makes you question every shadow. The chill bites at your cheeks as you walk the winding path, your breath curling into the icy air like tendrils of smoke. Adjusting your grip on the stake in your hand, you glance around, senses sharp for any sign of movement.

Behind you, a familiar voice cuts through the stillness.

"Careful there, love. With all that huffing and puffing, you’re liable to start a forest fire."

You glance back to see Spike leaning casually against a headstone, his leather duster flaring slightly in the breeze. Even in the dim light, his pale hair gleams like a beacon, and his trademark smirk is firmly in place.

"Really?" you say, rolling your eyes. "This is how you’re helping me patrol? By making fun of my breath?"

"Why not?" he replies, falling into step beside you. "It’s bloody freezing out here, and you’re the only thing keeping it interesting. Besides," he adds, with that infuriating grin of his, "you look quite fetching as a dragon."

You tug your scarf tighter around your neck, trying to ignore him. "It’s called being human, Spike. You should try it sometime."

"Why would I want to?" he retorts, flashing a teasing smirk. "All that pesky breathing, eating, and freezing your arse off nonsense. No thanks."

You shove your hands deeper into your pockets, exhaling a puff of frosty breath. "You’ve got to get some new material, Spike."

"Why? This works just fine," he quips, his voice dropping into a playful murmur. "You always bite when I pull your tail."

You ignore him—or at least you try to—but it’s hard when his gaze lingers on you, sharp and assessing, like he’s trying to see past the surface. Since Buffy left for Italy, Spike’s been different. Still sarcastic, still sharp-tongued, but there’s a new softness in him, like he’s figuring out how to move on from her. And then there’s the way he looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice...

A rustling sound pulls you from your thoughts, your body tensing as you grip your stake. Spike’s demeanor changes instantly, the teasing gone as his predatory instincts take over. A moment later, two fledgling vampires lurch out of the shadows, their movements erratic and feral.

"Finally," Spike mutters, cracking his knuckles. "I was getting bored."

The fight is quick but intense. You duck as one of the fledglings lunges for you, its claws slicing through the air where your face had been. Spinning on your heel, you drive your stake into its chest, and it crumbles to dust before it can even cry out. Spike, meanwhile, dispatches the other with his usual flair, staking it with a bored expression as though he’s done it a thousand times—which, of course, he has.

When the dust settles, you’re out of breath, your chest rising and falling in sharp bursts that fog the cold air. Spike leans casually against a tombstone, twirling his stake like it’s a toy, completely unruffled.

"You alright, love?" he asks, his smirk returning. "Not too winded, I hope. Wouldn’t want my dragon passing out on me."

"Would you stop calling me that?" you huff, brushing dirt from your jeans.

"Why? It suits you," he teases, stepping closer. "Fierce, fiery, and entirely too much fun to rile up."

"Keep it up, Spike, and I’ll show you fiery temper."

He raises a scarred eyebrow, his smirk softening into something more playful. "Promise?"

Your cheeks heat—not from anger but from the way he says it, low and flirtatious, the words curling through the space between you. You hate how easily he gets under your skin. Or maybe you don’t hate it as much as you pretend to.

"Come on," he says suddenly, nodding toward his crypt. "You’re freezing your scales off out here. Let’s get warm."

✦ ✦ ✦

Spike’s crypt is warmer than you expected, though that’s likely due to the small space heater humming in the corner. The air smells faintly of leather and whiskey, and the flickering candles scattered around give it a surprisingly cozy atmosphere.

"You’ve upgraded," you remark, eyeing the threadbare but inviting couch as you settle onto it.

He shrugs out of his duster and tosses it over a nearby chair. "Figured I’d make the place a bit more hospitable. Not that I get many visitors these days."

"Well, consider me honored," you quip, though there’s a weight to his words that lingers. Since Buffy left, Spike’s world has grown smaller, quieter. You suspect he’s still figuring out how to fill the void she left behind.

He grabs a bottle of whiskey from a nearby table and takes a swig before holding it out to you.

"Here," he says. "Warm you up."

You hesitate for a moment before accepting. The first sip burns, but it spreads warmth through your chest, chasing away the chill of the night. Spike sits down beside you, closer than he needs to, and you’re hyper-aware of the space—or lack thereof—between you.

"So," he says, leaning back and stretching his arms along the back of the couch. "What’s it like, being one of the Chosen?"

"It’s... a lot," you admit, staring into the amber liquid in your hand. "Buffy made it look easy, but it’s not. Sometimes it feels like I’m just trying not to screw up."

"Buffy was good," he says, his voice softer now. "But she had her share of screw-ups too. Don’t sell yourself short, love. You’ve got fire. You’ll figure it out."

The mention of Buffy hangs in the air for a moment, a ghost neither of you can ignore. You glance at him, trying to read his expression, but it’s unreadable.

"Do you miss her?" you ask quietly, the question slipping out before you can stop it.

He doesn’t answer right away. When he does, his voice is low, almost a whisper. "Used to think I’d never stop missing her. Thought she was it for me, you know? But... things change."

His eyes meet yours, and there’s something raw and honest in his gaze that makes your heart skip a beat.

"And now?" you ask, barely more than a whisper.

"Now..." He trails off, his lips quirking into a small smile. "Now I think I might be moving on."

The air between you crackles with unspoken possibilities, and for a moment, you forget about everything else—the patrols, the vampires, even Buffy. It’s just you and Spike, the space between you shrinking by the second.

"You’re not as much of a pain as you think, you know," you say softly, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

"Careful, love," he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. "Say things like that, and I might start thinking you like me."

"Maybe I do," you admit, your cheeks heating despite the cold.

For once, Spike doesn’t have a snarky reply. Instead, he leans in, his hand brushing against yours. His gaze drops to your lips, and for a heartbeat, the world seems to hold its breath.

But before he can close the distance, a loud crash outside shatters the moment.

"Bloody hell," he mutters, standing and grabbing his stake. "Can’t a bloke get a moment’s peace?"

You laugh despite yourself, standing and pulling your jacket tighter. "Come on, dragon," he says with a wink, holding the door open for you. "Duty calls."

As you step out into the night, the cold bites at your cheeks again, but the warmth of his presence lingers. And as you walk beside him, trading banter and stolen glances, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re not the only one moving on.

[taylorsversion22]

This is my Roman Empire! They are my Roman Empire ❤️😭

[princesspastel8]

That smile....is hauntingly beautiful

Secret Desire

《A Jeff The Killer Fanfic》

°•~Collection of Chapters~•°

☆

▪︎ Synopsis

▪︎ Chapter One

▪︎ Chapter Two

▪︎ Chapter Three

▪︎ Chapter Four

▪︎ Chapter Five

▪︎ Chapter Six

▪︎ Chapter Seven

▪︎ Chapter Eight

▪︎ Chapter Nine

▪︎ Chapter Ten

▪︎ Chapter Eleven

▪︎ Chapter Twelve

▪︎ Chapter Thirteen

▪︎ Chapter Fourteen

▪︎ Chapter Fifteen

▪︎ Chapter Sixteen

▪︎ Chapter Seventeen

▪︎ Chapter Eighteen

▪︎ Chapter Nineteen

▪︎ Chapter Twenty

▪︎ Chapter Twenty-one

▪︎ Chapter Twenty-two

▪︎ Chapter Twenty-three

▪︎ Chapter Twenty-four

▪︎ Chapter Twenty-five

▪︎ Chapter Twenty-six

▪︎ Chapter Twenty-seven

▪︎ Chapter Twenty-eight

▪︎ Chapter Twenty-nine

▪︎ Chapter Thirty

▪︎ Chapter Thirty-one

▪︎ Chapter Thirty-two

▪︎ Chapter Thirty-three

▪︎ Chapter Thirty-four

▪︎ Chapter Thirty-five °TW°

▪︎ Chapter Thirty-six

▪︎ Chapter Thirty-seven

▪︎ Chapter Thirty-eight

▪︎ Chapter Thirty-nine

▪︎ Chapter Forty(TW)

▪︎ Chapter Forty-one(TW)

▪︎ Chapter Forty-two

▪︎ Chapter Forty-three

▪︎ Chapter Forty-four

▪︎ Chapter Forty-five

▪︎ Chapter Forty-six

▪︎ Chapter Forty- seven

▪︎ Chapter Forty-eight

▪︎ Chapter Forty-nine

▪︎ Chapter Fifty

▪︎ Chapter Fifty-one

▪︎ Chapter Fifty-two

▪︎ Chapter Fifty-three

▪︎ Chapter Fifty-four

▪︎ Chapter Fifty-five

▪︎ Chapter Fifty-six

▪︎ Chapter Fifty-seven

▪︎ Chapter Fifty-eight

▪︎ Chapter Fifty-nine

▪︎ Chapter Sixty

▪︎ Chapter Sixty-one

▪︎ Chapter Sixty-two

▪︎ Chapter Sixty-three

▪︎ Chapter Sixty-four

▪︎ Chapter Sixty-five

▪︎ Chapter Sixty-six

▪︎ Chapter Sixty-seven

▪︎ Chapter Sixty-eight

▪︎ Chapter Sixty-nine

▪︎ Chapter Seventy

▪︎ Chapter Seventy-one

▪︎ Chapter Seventy-two

▪︎ Chapter Seventy-three

▪︎ Chapter Seventy-four

▪︎ Chapter Seventy-five

▪︎ Epilogue

▪︎ Author's Notes

▪︎ Bonus: Helen and Eboni

▪︎ Bonus: Valentine's Day Mishap

☆

Story Playlist

Jeff Origin Story(David Near Version)

Jeff's Interviews(David Near)

《 This is a dark romance with heavy triggers for some readers. Viewer discretion is advised.

《 This is an oc female(African American) love interest, but feel free to picture yourself as the character.

《 This is the fully edited version of my book. The completed unedited versions are on Wattpad & Ao3. Links will be below.

《 Wattpad

《 Ao3

Dividers credits are used throughout the story:

° @khaer

° @anitalenia

° @kimjiho1

° @somenteniki

° @bucciniexe

° @cafekitsune

° @k1ssyoursister

° @chaefilm

- If any of the art used within this story is yours, please let me know so credit can be given.

[blood-stained-lollipop]

Pastas as Greek Gods

Jeff- ares, god of war

Ben- hermes, god of trade

Jack- athena, goddess of wisdom

Toby- hephaesteus, god of fire

Helen- apollo, god of art and poetry

Liu- nemesis, goddess of revenge

Jane- hera, queen of Olympus

Clockwork- artemis, goddess of the hunt

Nina- hestia, goddess of hearth

Sally- Hebe, goddess of youth

Kagekao- dionysus, god of wine

Zalgo- Hades, god of the underworld

[itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland]

Permission (Spike x y/n)

Requested: Yep. @wtv-my-current-hyperfixation

TW: Smut. A lot of smutty smut.

Word Count: 2.2k

Masterlist

---------------------------------------------------------------

The TV plays in the background. Canned laughter and rehearsed lines contrast the mood and actions in the room. The air is heavy. The room is scented of spice and musk.

You run your hands up to Spike’s hair as your mouth gets lost in a torrent of lust and wanton desire. His hands hold you tight as you straddle him on the sofa. You come up for air, soft pants with heavy eye contact.

“You like that, love?” He spanks your ass and gives it a tight squeeze.

You let out a soft moan, inviting him for more.

His member is hard and tight against his jeans. You tease him by creating friction between your underwear and the top of his jeans. He leans his head back, enjoying the taunting. Preparing himself for what’s to come.

You lean in for another kiss and instead Spike trails his mouth down your neck. He leaves love bites on his way to your collar bone where he works steadily to create a hickey.

Once done he leans back to admire his handy works, “Mine.” He whispers.

You continue to ride him, fully clothed, in an attempt to ease some of your own lust.

“I want more.” You croon.

He turns and pushes you onto the couch roughly, your back to the soft material. You gasp as you go down.

He hikes up your skirt and makes quick work of your underwear. His hand finds your slick and plays with your slit. You bite down a moan. He gently finds your opening and inserts a finger. His thrusts are steady, long, and deep. You moan at his ministrations.

“Let’s see if my girl can take two.”

He works on inserting another finger, stretching you to your max.

“Gotta gets you ready for the main course.”

You are full and lost in desire. He pumps his fingers in and out, in and out. You count your breaths to stay sane. Without warning her curls his fingers making you see stars.

Spike has decided he wants to make you orgasm multiple times tonight. He is relentless with his fingers, making sure that you’re deep in pleasure.

“Do you like that, love? Am I making you feel good?”

You can barely answer, your brain in a fog. You babble an answer which is incomprehensible and makes Spike laugh.

“Shall we pick up the pace? Can you take it?”

As promised, he moves his hand faster, curling his fingers when inside. He uses his other hand to massage circle on your clit. He is deliberate with his movements matching his thrust with the pressure he is placing on your clitoris. You’re a mess. You can barely breathe, holding onto the sofa for dear life.

He is consistent and persevering. He mumbles dirty words to you, lost in his own pleasure. You can feel your insides tighten. Your abdomen feels tight and ready to burst. You try to warn Spike, but that was his goal. He wanted to get you off with his fingers and make sure you’re hazed out with pleasure before he gave you the main course.

You feel something snap, electricity courses through your brain. It hits your pleasure point, and you gasp in shock followed by a slew of loud moans. You’re still trying to regain yourself when you feel Spike pull you up.

“Come on, we’re not done yet.”

Your legs are jelly, so you struggle to stand up, still fucked out and lost. Spike smirks at your demeanor. His pride and joy. He grabs you and carries you down to the bedroom. He throws you on the bed, rough and aggressive. You gasp in surprise. By his actions, you could tell that tonight would be an intense night. So, buckle up.

You try to make quick work of your clothes but Spike is already naked and impatient. He walks up to you and tears your clothes off. Shreds of fabric all over his bedroom floor. You scowl but he dismisses you.

He lays down face up, his erection standing up and proud. You knew what he wanted. You put your hair to the side and lean down to give him sloppy head.

Your mouth envelopes his penis. Hot and moist. You work your way down slowly, reminding yourself of his size and girth. You bob up and down, up and down, setting a steady rhythm. Spike’s head is tossed back, eyes shut. He loved feeling your mouth on him. If he didn’t have other plans for you, he would finish in your mouth.

You slither your tongue against his tip tasting his precum. You give it a little kiss and shove his length back into your mouth. Spike becomes impatient, desperate and presses your head down. He wants you to choke. He wants you to gag. You oblige. Tears prick your eyes as you let him find his pleasure. He lets go and you come up for air, gasping.

“Good girl.” He praises you.

You lean so as to take him back into your mouth, but he pulls your hair, stopping you. You look at him confused.

“Lay down.” He commands.

You lay on your back waiting for his next command. He straddles your torso and places his cock against your breasts. You were catching on. You press your breasts together for him to pleasure himself. You spit in between your breasts to give him lubrication.

He thrusts his penis against your breasts roughly. He wanted to feel as much pleasure as possible. You couldn’t lie, looking up at him with his penis so close to you made you feel weak and wet. You wanted to pleasure him as much as possible cause you knew he would reward you well.

You open your mouth to catch the tip of his penis when he thrusts up. He is steady and consistent in his thrusts. He grunts as he finds his pace. Suddenly he stops, remembering his plans for the night.

He leans down and gives you a kiss on the forehead before settling himself in between your legs.

“So wet. All for me?” He teases. “You nasty, bird.”

He pulls your body down the bed closer to the edge. It was time to worship. He nuzzles his head in between your legs, taking in your scent. He licks your clitoris, shy and chaste. He traces a longer lick on your slit, inviting himself in. He is focused as he licks circles around your clit, playing with pressure and movement.

You’re a moaning mess. You love when he gave you head but you always forgot how intense it could be.

His tongue finds your hole and wanders inside. He moves his tongue inside you. You’re seeing stars. He makes sure to place pressure on your clitoris with his hands as he licks your insides. His face is covered with your slick and he loves it. He can’t get enough of you. You’re impatient and grab his head. You want him to make you come right that instant. To which he gives you a smack on your hip, teaching you who’s in control. You stay still, pliant and ready. He takes his time eating you out. His tongue returns to your clitoris. He trails long circles around it. Adding pressure on and off, on and off. You can feel your body levitating from the pleasure. You’re caught up in the moment and want this to last forever.

He introduces two fingers in you while he continues to circle your clit with his tongue. He had plans to make you cum as many ways as he could. You were seeing stars. You were gone with the movement and you stayed that way.

His fingers pick up the pace. His tongue is relentless in putting pressure on your clit. You gasp for air. You knew it was coming. You wanted to be prepared for your orgasm. However, in his last thrust he curled his fingers hitting your G-Spot and it sent you. You’re a screaming moaning mess. Your eyes water from the intensity of the orgasm. Your body convulses and lifts up from the bed.

Spike places a hand on your abdomen to keep you in place. He refuses to stop his ministrations. He wants you to feel it all. He wants to ride that orgasm all the way to the end.

You eventually come down form your high, spent and tired. Spike smiles and wipes his face with a nearby towel.

“You look so pretty when you cum.”

You look up at him, fucked out, dazed and pleasured. You inch up towards your pillow getting ready to sleep.

“Oh no you don’t. I’m not done with you.” He pulls you by your leg.

You look up at him surprised and a little scared. He grins as he approaches you. He leans down for a kiss.

“I’m not done getting what I want. Lay on your stomach.”

You slowly oblige, concerned about what’s coming next but excited that there’s more.

Spike pulls out massage oil from the nightstand nearby. He straddles you, puts some oil on your back and starts massaging you. You sigh. You could get used to this. He makes sure to work your shoulders and lower back. Places that he knows you hold the most tension. He waits until you’re relaxed and satiated to slip hi cock in between your folds. You gasp in surprise and follow it with a moan. His girth and length filling you.

His favorite position was to take you from behind while you lay on your stomach. He could get so much more space to move, a nice view of your ass, and easy access to your hair.

He thrust slow into your cunt. Soft and caring. Making you feel safe. He is deliberate in his strokes, letting you get accustomed to his size. He smiles at himself and without a warning lays down a loud slap on your base ass. You yelp. He follows it with another, and another. He starts to pick up the pace, riding you hard. You can feel him fill you to the hilt. Your moans fill the room. Embarrassed, even after everything he’s done to you, you hide your face in a pillow to keep quiet.

“Oh no you don’t.” He grabs, twists your hair in his hand and pulls. “I want to hear how good I’m fucking you.”

You’re caught in limp kitten mode. At his mercy. He fucks you rough and long. He rides you until you’re sore and begging for release. He wants to be like this forever. Powerful and full of lust. The room is filled with the sound of your moans and the harsh sounds of meat slapping together. He eventually lets you go to land more slaps on your ass. You’re begging for more. He obliges. You loved when he dominated you. It made you feel wanted, dirty, and satiated.

Without a warning he pulls out. You groan in desperation.

He man handles you and flips you on your back. He lifts your legs and folds you in a mating press. Without missing a beat, he slips himself back inside you and fucks you hard. His hips hitting against yours in a steady rhythm. He grunts and huffs as he fills you up time and time again. You’re a pitch away from screaming in pleasure. Your moans are loud and non-stop.

He makes sure to be in control not just of your pleasure but of your body. You start begging for release.

“Can I come. Please, can I come?”

“Not yet, sweetheart. Be good for me.”

You nod and hold on. Your brain only understands pleasure and the need to hold onto your orgasm. He thrusts hard and long. He wants you to remember the feeling and shape of his penis inside of you. He feels himself getting closer and debates if to finish inside you. He leans down and bites down on your shoulder making sure to leave another mark. He wants people to know what transpired here today.

“Come.” He commands.

As if in cue you unravel under him. You come undone in a seeping heap of moans and thrashing. You’re no longer in control of your body. You’re his to use and his to have.

He lets you catch your breath, barely, before he pulls you up.

“Get up. On your knees.” He comands you to kneel before him.

You do as he says. You look up to him, seeing him jack off his penis furiously in front of your face. You knew what he wanted. You open your mouth and without fail he fills your mouth and face with his cum. You take it all in. Filthy, dirty and pleasurable.

You kneel there for a couple of seconds before Spike gets a towel to clean your face. He is gentle and loving, a contrast to his earlier behavior. Once cleaned he leans in for a gentle kiss,. Soft and loving. You open your eyes and smile.

“Can I rest now?”

“Yes, my love.”

“Did I do good?”

“You did amazing. You’re such a good girl.”

You smile as you get into bed. He makes sure that you’re tucked in before he gets into bed. He scooches over to you. You lean your head against his chest and before he can praise you again, you’re asleep in his arms.

[sarahskywalker-amidala]

*yells into empty void*

I NEED SOMEONE TO WRITE A SPIKE FIC BASED ON THE BEAST BY LADY GAGA PLEASE I AM BEGGING ON HANDS AND KNEES😭😭😭