The moment you first laid eyes on him, you knew there was something about him that screamed trouble. Trouble. Ruin. Misfortune. Chaos.
When your eyes met, something in the room changed.
Those ice blue eyes. They sent a shiver down your spine and made your breath hitch in your throat. They were dangerous, mysterious, and everything that mothers warn their daughters about. There was this darkness about him, a darkness that surrounded his very aura. You could feel it when he entered your personal space. It made you nervous and tense.
There was just something about him. His eyes lingered as his lips curved into a sly smirk and he didn't turn his eyes away from you for a moment even when you looked away.
What kind of name was Spike anyway?
—
The second you left the bus station you felt blinded by the sunlight. For you it was finally a new start. It was the end of August, and your first day of school. After leaving the station you started to walk toward your new place that you would be living in for the next few years, your suitcase next to you. You decided to live in the school dormitory instead of commuting from home. It was going to change many things about your life, especially when it came to your income since you wouldn't be able to work at your family's book store anymore, and instead you would be working at the coffee shop located near your school, UC Sunnydale. You were a grownup now and living away from home meant that you would have a new sense of independence.
When you arrived at your dormitory, you filled the papers you needed to fill at the reception desk before you finally received the key to your new room. You were going to be sharing a room with your best friend Hope so that was very exciting for you and you did not have to worry about living with a stranger. Hope was already in class by the time you entered your dorm and so you settled in by organizing a few of your things before you had to leave for your first class of the day in the late afternoon.
It was the first day of college and you were excited. You were eager to meet your new classmates and explore the campus a little. Unfortunately, you wouldn't be seeing Hope for most of the day since she was able to snag some morning classes before they got filled up. Your classes didn't start until 4PM in the afternoon with your last class ending at around 10pm.
Denim shorts and a short sleeved lace black blouse that fit just right, you walked around the university's campus, a bag on your shoulders as you stared at your phone, muttering your schedule to yourself as you wished for Fall to come quickly, and with it, cooler weather.
"History 17A with Professor Megenney in Vigil Hall 209… after that Psychology 105 with Professor Walsh… that's in Vigil Hall too… 245," you muttered to yourself and stopped to look around. You had a tour, yes, with all the other freshmen, however you had already forgotten your way. You were standing in what looked like a quad. The buildings all surrounded this square space of grass and trees, there was a sidewalk that connected the buildings to one another going along the perimeter benches situated here and there, as well as wooden benches in the quad itself under tall trees. You looked around and spotted a stone arch against a near long brick building that was inscribed with Vigil Hall. You smiled and rushed in immediately, checking your phone to see you had ten minutes till class began.
The inside of the building was a long hallway with sleek walls and flooring, there were poster boards everywhere advertising classes and roommates wanted. You ignored these and made your way down the hall, your eyes falling on each door as you passed, reading the numbers until you reached 209.
The classroom was already starting to fill, sleep-deprived college students were all here to check off their history requirements—one or two maybe a hopeful history major. You hugged your bag to yourself as you moved to the back to sit in a free seat by the window. There, you pulled out a notebook, a pen, and then waited for class to begin.
That was when your best friend Hope came in.
"Hey, did you know that Mary Shelley lost her virginity on her mother's grave?" Hope asked as she took a seat next to you in the large classroom, sounding way too excited about this newfound fact she learned. Her long dark brown wavy locks nearly swung in your face as she made her way across the crowded classroom.
You rolled your eyes at her and then shook your head in playful annoyance. "You totally just Googled that, didn't you?" you asked, arching one unimpressed eyebrow at her. "Also, literally everyone knows that. Everyone."
Hope laughed before answering, "No not everyone! I didn't know that! So clearly it isn't the common knowledge you think it is. That woman was badass," she added and placed her backpack next to her seat. "My english prof told us all about it. Really interesting stuff. I wonder if she was a vampire."
"Oh my god, don't talk about that stuff here," you whispered loudly at her.
"What? They come out at night, you know. What if there's a vampire in this very classroom?" Hope questioned, the girl had no filter most of the time.
"You are talking crazy again," you retorted, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous she sounded right about now.
"It's kind of exciting, though, like they could be lurking around, really anywhere, and you might not even know," Hope giggled, her hazel eyes lighting up at the idea of meeting a vampire.
"That is definitely not exciting. That's actually really scary," you told her honestly. "And it's not dark yet so I don't think they are around. I think we're safe."
"I just think it adds some kind of thrill to living here, that's all, and maybe we are in luck by taking night classes. Maybe we will meet one on our way to the dorm or when we are headed to the library," Hope contemplated, acting like the idea of vampires only existed in horror movies or unrealistic, cheap rom-coms.
"Okay, you have seriously lost it," you told her.
"Oh my god, chill! I'm just kidding," Hope said, but you seriously wondered if she was joking or not, sometimes it was hard to tell with Hope. You believe she had a morbid curiosity about vampires in general.
Class finally started and your professor was enthusiastic about history, and as much as you would have wanted, you just did not reflect the same enthusiasm. Class drilled on, the only interaction you had with your new classmates was a mutter of thanks when the girl in front of you handed back the syllabus.
With a start, your hands immediately flipped for the required assignments and breathed a sigh of relief. No group projects, just two essays, one in the middle and one at the end. You hated working in groups, somehow you always ended up doing most of the work and it was irritating to say the least. When the hour was up, you were one of the first to stand and moved quickly while the others mingled in the classroom.
Psychology was next, and you were really looking forward to this class. Psychology fascinated you and it made you contemplate the reasons why you did the things you did and why you were the way that you were. It was certainly a complex and interesting subject and you were eager to learn more about it.
You and Hope entered the classroom together, and there was only one other person in the room. You were quick to notice the young man who only looked a few years older than you standing behind the professor's desk, fiddling with the computer and projector that hung from the ceiling. The young man looked up and at first, you thought he was another student.
He was tall and slim, with pale skin and blue eyes, and shiny light brown hair that was perfectly combed. Well-muscled, the young man wore a tight grey shirt. His eyes met yours for a moment and he smiled at you, before going back to fiddling with the computer on the desk, it was warm and friendly, and you couldn't help but smile back. You felt your heartbeat speed up and your pulse quickened dramatically. Hope nudged you in the shoulder and again whispered too loudly, "Who's the cutie?"
"Hey," he said, "how are you ladies doing? I'm Professor Walsh's TA, Riley Finn. It's a pleasure."
He offered his hand and you shook it, introducing yourself and then Hope chimed in, immediately grabbing his hand after you had barely shook it.
"It's nice to meet you two, I'm sure that this will be a productive semester," Riley said. "You're freshmen, right?"
You nodded.
"Well I sure hope you find this class intriguing. I certainly do. The professor really knows her stuff, you'll like her," he winked and you couldn't help but giggle like he told some hilarious joke that you were in on.
"Oh my god, I loooooooooove psychology. It's so fascinating! Like learning about how the brain works and why humans do the things we do and why we are the way we are! So interesting!" Hope exclaimed, giggling like a schoolgirl. She was worse than you. And hey! That was your line! You thought.
Riley chuckled in response. "Well I'm glad to hear that you like psychology," he looked down at his hand and Hope was still holding onto it. "Any chance I can get my hand back?" he asked in a half-joking voice.
"Oh sorry!" Hope said with an awkward laugh before pulling her hand away from his and you gave her a look.
"Please have a seat," Riley said. You nodded and moved directly for the back with Hope. You could see her cheeks were blazing and she was murmuring loudly about how embarrassed she was.
"It's okay, it's okay, just chill out," you told her before you started teasing her again, "you always make the best first impressions."
"He's just so cute, I didn't know what to do. I got so nervous," Hope said in a flustered voice. "Oh god, he's probably talking about me."
You could see Riley whispering to the professor. She was an older woman who appeared to have a no-nonsense personality and you were starting to worry that she might be one of the professors who might make the material harder to learn than it should be as well as one of those professors who always repeat the phrase: "Read the syllabus!"
Once class was over, you and Hope left the room and she was talking your ear off about how embarrassed she still was about the situation.
"I'm such an idiot! He probably thinks I'm such an idiot too!" Hope whined, a pout on her lips.
"Calm down, it wasn't that… bad. Okay, that was kind of bad. You gave me second-hand embarrassment," you told her before you started laughing once more.
"Well I gave myself first-hand embarrassment! So how do you think I feel?" Hope said in her defense.
"Okay okay, good point. Hey, I'm sure he'll forget about it the next time he sees you," you said, trying to reassure her.
"Whatever, honestly I just want to forget about the whole thing," she said with a slight shrug of her shoulders.
"That psychology class seems interesting, there's so many theories. Professor Walsh seems intense, though, or should I say: Evil Bitch-Monster of Death?" you said, mocking her tone.
"Yeah, don't they teach psychologists all about having empathy and compassion? That lady is clearly lacking it," Hope scoffed.
"I don't really like her attitude but she does know her stuff. I feel like she could psychoanalyze me with a look," you said, maybe you were lowkey afraid of her, but then again you were willing to bet that most of her students were.
"Let's hope we can survive the semester. Hey are we still up for going to the Bronze after you're done with your last class of the night?"
"I don't know. I mean I probably shouldn't stay out later than I have to. Maybe we should just stay in tonight," you said, rethinking the idea of hanging out at the Bronze after all. You had been there a couple of times and it was a sketchy place and vamps frequently hung out around that area.
"Aw c'mon! We should go! Don't you want to have some fun before we get all busy with grown-up stuff?" Hope asked in her whiny 'I'm not giving up until you say yes' voice.
"I don't think it's the best idea, Hope," you told her honestly.
"Pleaaseeeeee! Pretty please!" she whined, sounding her voice all baby-like. "I know you want to unwind and have a good time, and we should do it together!"
"I guess you're right," you caved in after a few moments of her complaining. "But only for a little while. I don't want to stay out too late," you told her. Though, in the back of your mind you knew it wasn't the best idea, but you didn't want to let her down.
"We should totally live it up and have fun! I mean, that's what college is all about, right?" Hope said with a grin.
"Yeah and playing grabby hands with TAs and submitting assignments at 11:58pm on the due day," you teased.
"You did not just say that! Shut up!" Hope cracked up and playfully hit you in the shoulder.
"You know I'm right!" you laughed with her.
"You are so not!" Hope teased back. It felt good to share a laugh with your best friend, and the great thing about your friendship was that you could laugh about embarrassing moments even after they just happened. She was always so easy-going and fun-loving which was perfect for you because sometimes you could be so hard on yourself and she was always a breath of fresh air.
"I'm gonna grab something to eat before I head to my next class. I'll see you later, okay?" you told her, giving her a quick hug and then grabbing onto her hand, pulling her close to whisper in her ear, "Bye Grabby Hands!"
"Do not call me that!"
You got another playful hit on your shoulder before she returned the hug and then left you to be on your merry way to the cafeteria. You only had a granola bar in the morning and now you were starting to feel like your stomach was going to grumble any second now.
You were on your way there when you felt a presence behind your shoulder. It felt like someone was watching you and they weren't far away. You started to think there was something—or someone lurking around the corner, but you just didn't catch it in time. You continued on your way to the cafeteria, sticking your earphones in your ears and ready to tune out the loud chatter of students on campus.
But then you felt that same presence again. You could have sworn you heard footsteps approaching and it felt like they were closer this time. Maybe it was just your imagination because when you turned again you did not see anything. Maybe it was just first day anxiety.
You entered the cafeteria and played music on your smartphone, grabbing a bottle of juice and a wrapped premade sandwich. Your favorite song was sounding in your ear as you waited in line. You were just standing there, waiting for the cashier to ring you up when you felt a tap on your shoulder. It was subtle but you sensed it. You whipped your head back and found no one. There was not anyone standing in line behind you. Maybe someone just bumped into you accidentally or was just trying to pass you, but you didn't see anyone in your field of vision across from you. It was probably just nerves. The first day could always be a little overwhelming.
You made it to your last class of the night, which was an English class, and things ran smoothly for the most part, there was a couple of big essays to write but it seemed like manageable work and there was a dude that kept texting next to you while laughing obnoxiously but you tried your best to tune him out. After class was over, you and Hope arrived at the Bronze and met up with some of your other friends there as well. You knew the Bronze was located in the "bad part" of town but it was the place where all your friends hung out and all the cool kids got together. You did meet some creeps in the area though but unfortunately Sunnydale was full of them. Maybe going to the Bronze wasn't always the best idea but you just wanted to have a good time and this felt like the right way to start off the long and dreaded semester that awaited you this fall. You had been to the Bronze a couple of times before and it wasn't so bad, there was the occasional weirdo hitting on you and begging to buy you a drink, and if you were lucky you could get a live viewing of Buffy kicking a vampire's ass, and the latter was definitely worth it.
The cool night air swept through the front door of the nightclub as you stepped inside. Pulsating lights and rhythmic music filled the air as bodies knocked against one another, bumping and rubbing.
Things had been stressful for you as of late with the moving out of your parents' home and into the school dormitory, finding a new job, and the pressure of succeeding in college as well as maintaining a strict schedule to stay on track. It was a lot for anyone to handle and you still wanted to have a social life and hang out with your friends when you could so now was the time to forget about everything that was weighing you down and just relax. Everything seemed to ease off once you found your comfort zone and you were able to dance freely without thinking of work. Now was the time you could enjoy yourself with your friends, have a drink, dance with a stranger, and maybe have a good bit of fun.
Only you did not have as much fun as you would have liked. It was boring for a bit, following your friends around, watching people dance as you just moved with the crowd, trying so desperately to stick to the two people you knew. It was hard to keep up, but you managed, and it helped that your male friend Tyler was so tall.
You felt awkward. Incredibly awkward. You felt like you didn't belong, but you ignored that thought, just trying to stick to your ride.
Maybe this was a mistake.
You glanced about the room and you were quick to notice the young college twenty-something-year-olds who were loud and reckless, laughing as they ordered drinks for the bartender to mix. You also noticed that your friends were getting a little loopy, and that was when you really wanted to dip out. You bit your lip. Would they remember to find you if you stepped away?
A grim feeling tugged at your chest at the thought that maybe they would leave you behind, forget about you like how they were now. That's why you walked up to Hope and asked if she would remember to call you when they were getting ready to leave. Hope was already drunk. "Yeah, yeah," she mumbled, laughing, clearly enjoying the alcohol.
She pushed for you to stay. 'It'll be fun,' she says, 'You need to loosen up more,' she says. But at this point you were considering going back home to lay in your bed and sleep. Besides, since the three of you arrived, most of Hope's attention was on some nameless dude that she just met and the whole time she was making googly eyes at him. She only spoke to you once every ten minutes or so. If you thought about it, you could easily escape this whole scenario without your friends noticing.
You walked up to Tyler, your male friend, the man who always had to tag along when he heard there was a party or cute girls around—asking him if he would remember to call you when they were leaving. It seemed like Tyler was the only one who wasn't anywhere close to drunk and it appeared that he had a non-alcoholic beverage—giving you the confirmation that, yes, he wouldn't leave you behind, he would be sure to give you a call. That was a relief.
You thanked him, taking a step back, letting the crowd eat you whole.
Part of you questioned if you should trust Tyler. Then again, what other choice did you have? It was already getting harder and harder to stay close to them as they actively moved from place to place. It was hard to stay a far enough distance away so you didn't hear their crude and lewd jokes that they were making and it was lowkey getting under your skin.
Luckily, the blasting music helped with distracting you from the jokes and implications, the throbbing basslines of the music pulsing throughout the building like a heartbeat. Countless bodies filled the room, dancing, drinking, celebrating, making the most of the night and having a good time. You wanted to have a good time too, and that was why you came here in the first place but at the same time you just weren't feeling it tonight. You started doubting that you should have come out here at all. You did have to work early in the morning and then after that you head to class.
After some long, drawn-out moments of standing in the crowd, people moving past you. Surprisingly, only one or two people bumped into you as you stood there, arms holding yourself as you stared at your feet.
Did you really wear nice clothes for this? Come on. You didn't want to waste your little black dress on a night like this, the article of clothing clung to your curves like a second skin. Part of you wished maybe these people did get in trouble for this, and they most likely would, but another part of you knew you didn't want them to get in trouble immediately because they were your only ride home.
You knew it was a bad idea to go to this place.
You knew you should have stayed home and started reading one of the many unread books on your bookshelf, or perhaps start watching one of the many series you wanted to watch.
But no!
Instead you had to let your friends convince you that you needed to relax somewhere other than your comfortable couch. You did enjoy a good party every now and then, but sometimes you didn't always feel like going out.
You shook your head, straightening your position and looking around. Some entertainment? No, listening to the loud music was going to give you a headache, and you certainly didn't feel like dancing or drawing any attention to yourself. The stench of booze and sweat stung your nostrils as you navigated through the wall of grinding bodies wearing dangerously little to cover themselves.
Your eyes settled on the bar. You grimaced, glancing back at where your group was, seeing they hadn't moved. They were getting worse. You witnessed one of the guys slap someone on the butt and laughed. Everyone laughed at that.
That was when you cringed, backing away, deciding perhaps to give the bar a chance. Get out of this crowd. Sit down. Have a drink of two maybe. You walked up to the bar, seeing most of the seats were taken. You frowned, not sure if you wanted to sit down next to someone. It was just your luck when three people at a table scooted off their seats, drinks in hand as they moved past you. You ordered a vodka soda and then took the opportunity to sit on the stool at that table.
Reveling in the burn of alcohol warming your throat from the inside, you downed the last of your drink in one gulp. It was your first drink of the night and you needed it to soothe your bones. A young man who appeared to be in his early 20s approached your table and delivered the cheesiest pickup line without a lick of charisma before offering to buy you a drink but you immediately declined, feeling irritated before he even opened his mouth to speak. You were just glad he left after his futile and pathetic attempt at trying to hook up with you.
After you had a few drinks, your discomfort was replaced with contentment. The muscles that were so tense under your skin tight dress began to loosen up and your head wasn't hurting anymore. Instead, you felt a pleasant fuzziness extend from your head to your core and all the way to your fingertips.
You glanced down at your phone to see if your friends had texted or called you because you were planning on leaving soon. No messages. No calls. You sighed deeply.
But then you looked up from your phone and saw him.
There was someone sitting directly across from your table. All by himself.
The man in front of you had an air of mystery and your instincts screamed wildly that he was dangerous. The man was like a black hole attracting your attention. He was broad-shouldered, platinum blonde hair was combed back and framing his pale face, long nose, expressive blue eyes that you could easily get lost in, absolutely tempting lips, and a sharp jawline. The bright lights illuminated the man's features with a brilliant contrast. Sharp, elegant features were enhanced by fierce steel blue eyes that lingered on you. From across the bar you could have stared for hours. The man was beautiful, beyond beautiful, and why he was making eyes at you—you honestly didn't know but you wanted to. The man was dressed in grey jeans, a crimson t-shirt, and a long black leather duster. He appeared to be right at home in the atmosphere, like this was a place he frequented quite often. His pale skin in the light shining down on him made him look almost ethereal sitting on that bar stool. You started to wonder if it was a good idea to approach him and strike a conversation, find out who he was, but found your mouth wasn't exactly working optimally.
He took a steadying sip of his glass of scotch and his stare did not let up while he did so. That fixed gaze made you so tense, it was like he was undressing you with his eyes, it felt invasive. Icy though they appeared, his eyes burned like no other.
Who was this guy?
You forced yourself to look away from him when you realized that your pulse had accelerated and your heart skipped a beat. Your eyes met the stranger's and you felt a shiver of fear and excitement run down your spine and the fact that he licked his lips as he stared at you, made you imagine the sensations those sinful lips could cause your body for a fleeting moment.
He raised his glass ever so slightly and twitched his eyebrows, inclining his head. You mirrored the movement, a small smile playing across your lips, and turned back to your drink.
You felt warmth radiating from the center of your body, awakening a part of you that you had been neglecting in recent months. Turning away from him again, you took a deep breath, your lips parted, trying to slow your heartbeat and keep some control over your emotions. 'Just don't look at him,' you told yourself.
Like a magnet, your gaze was drawn to the stranger again. He was so frighteningly mysterious and attractive. He made you think of a predator, a wolf who disguised himself as a sheep so he could approach his prey and choose his next meal unnoticed.
But you had noticed him.
And now you couldn't stop staring into those devilishly expressive eyes that stared at you as if you were his prey, as if you were his next meal.
You were feeling a sudden spike in your heartbeat and you unconsciously held your breath as he stood, his eyes still fixed on yours, and began to walk toward you. As he walked, people went out of his way, as if they had an unconscious fear of him. He looked bigger and more dangerous and fascinating as he approached you and you forced yourself to breathe.
He made his way around the table and grazed your shoulder, sending a shiver through your body.
"You don't seem like you belong here," a husky voice reached your ears through the blaring music. The hand gradually slipped down your back, also nearing your other shoulder. It was not an entirely casual touch, but it also wasn't invasive.
"You're probably right," you said. You contemplated his unreadable expression as the hand on your back began to trace light circles through the fabric of your dress.
"Did you come here alone?"
"Yeah," you lied. You weren't sure why you didn't want to tell him that you arrived here with your friends. The part of your brain that used logic shut down after the first few drinks.
"I'm a little worried that you don't have anyone with you."
You felt your heart skip a beat. Maybe three. "Why is that?"
"With that innocent face of yours, in this type of club, you're practically a feast for wandering eyes, pet. Such a pretty face you have."
Heat instantly rises through your chest, spreading all throughout your body. Goddamn. He could tell all kinds of pretty little lies with that alluring British accent.
"You think I'm pretty?" you asked, almost as equally intoxicated by the attention as with the alcohol.
Grinning, the stranger slid a finger along the nape of your neck, his voice was deep and commanding, and it pulled you to him. "Maybe too pretty for your own good."
You shivered at the touch. You rolled your eyes. "Or maybe you've had too much to drink."
The man ignored the comment. He looked away for a moment to think. You found yourself looking closely at his lips. You wanted to touch them. Just to feel them. Feel them against your own.
"What are you here drinking all by your lonesome? Rough night?" you asked with a nonchalant expression, which was your attempt at playing hard to get.
You caught his attention right away, his blue eyes resting on you, tracing over every curve of you and taking you in. You kept your heart rate in check, not letting yourself get too excited at him actually noticing you and seeming to take an interest. You always had a thing for the bad boys, and it has gotten you in trouble, more than you would like to admit.
"You have no idea," he smirked when his eyes returned to yours, clearly deciding that he liked what he saw as he turned to face you. "What's your name?"
You told him your name and some part of you wanted to hear how your name fell from his lips with that accent of his. When he asked for your name, for some strange reason you felt oddly compelled to do so. On nights like this, you often gave out a fake name for the sake of your privacy, but the usual nickname wasn't on the tip of your tongue. His smile was oddly attractive. Everyone about him was attractive. At the sound of your voice giving him what he wanted, the man's smile widened. "Yours?"
You needed to know at this point. Anything, anything at all to keep him interested in you. Of course, he was more than interested for a variety of reasons, but you didn't know. A click of the tongue. He seemed to be considering answering you.
His hands grazed up your arm, the cold sending a chill down your spine yet causing warmth to pool up inside of you. "Spike."
"Spike," you said, finding the name to be unusual. What kind of name was that? "Okay Spike, is this the part where you ask me if I come here often?" you asked with a smug smile.
A soft laugh escaped his lips, leaning in closer to your personal space and practically setting your skin on fire knowing how dangerously close he was to you. "Now why would I do that? I don't want to say the wrong thing like the birdbrain you sent away."
You bit down on your lower lip to hold back a smile, you knew he was damn good at getting what he wanted with that ridiculous British charm and you could feel your cheeks heating up further. You stood up from your seat, standing in front of him. Spike stepped closer, and you wondered if you imagined the way he inclined his head, inhaling slightly, as though scenting him. You could smell him too—incense, tobacco, and an underlying musk that made your mouth water. You sucked your lower lip between your teeth and met his eyes, your eyelashes fluttering.
There was a darkness that flared up in Spike each time his eye caught the smoothness of your neck—skin uninterrupted; unbitten.
His fingers just brushed your upper arm and it was just like a jolt of electricity shot down your spine. "Care to dance?"
You debated it for the briefest of seconds before nodding – it wasn't as if you would be able to carry on much of a conversation here anyway. It was loud and people were passing back and forth down the corridor.
He reached out and tangled his long, pale fingers with yours, leading you back out and onto the floor as a new song started. He stopped and turned abruptly so you ran into his chest, hands splayed across the fabric of his shirt to prevent you from toppling as the breath left your body in a huff.
His hands glided down and wrapped around your waist, keeping you against him. Before you were wondering where your friends had gone off to and what they were doing but now they were the furthest thing from your mind.
You tipped your chin up and shot him a cocky smirk, cheeks flushed and keeping your body against his. His eyes dropped to your chest for half a beat and his fingers flexed on your hips. With a rush of satisfaction, you snaked your arms up from your position on his chest to rest loosely on his shoulders, wrists criss-crossing behind his neck. Still pressed into him, you pulsed your hips and swayed to the beat of the song, which he reciprocated.
Emboldened by the physical response you felt against your hip, you dropped your arms and spun in place, so your ass was rather brazenly rubbing against him. You heard him suck in a shocked breath and smiled to yourself, bringing your arms back up and placing them around his neck, this time pulling him down a bit and tipping your head to one side while your back arched, giving him what you knew was an impeccable shot of your breasts.
Spike shifted his hips and ground his erection against you as he dropped his head to the crook of your neck, warm breath caressing your flesh. He smelled like scotch and sin. He dragged his nose slightly up the side of your throat before brushing it over your ear.
"Wanna get out of here?" he whispered. You felt gooseflesh erupt on your arms, breath catching.
"Can I," Spike continued, leaning in closer to your ear; close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath travel down your neck, "keep you company for a little while?" he leaned away to gauge a reaction and his hand ceased movement, waiting.
"W-Who are you?" the words finally escaped you, breathier than expected. You wanted to sound confident and strong, not weak.
"Does it matter, dear?" His tone was condescending, but god, it only fanned the flames. "You wanted to be noticed by someone. Anyone. You just happened to catch my eye. You're burning up. You want this more than anything."
You didn't want to admit it but it was true, maybe deep down you were hoping that somebody would notice you, and someone did.
"I can give you everything you need, pet. Anything, and everything. All you have to do," he paused for a moment, leaning forward, his lips brushing against the tip of your ear, "give me a taste. I know you want me, don't lie to yourself."
You felt heat gather in your abdomen at his intense gaze. You choked out a small yes, nodding at his words, feeling completely and utterly flustered. You couldn't see his grin, the sharp canines just out of view. What you could hear was a rumbling chuckle as he pulled back, grabbing the small of your back, ready to leave with you. Whatever he wanted, obviously it wasn't going to be in front of other people.
This was something you couldn't explain. It was obvious what you were agreeing to. You couldn't believe it. You didn't always do this kind of thing and it was definitely not the best idea to do this kind of thing in Sunnydale. You knew when someone was hitting on you, and you knew when someone wanted to sleep with you. It was not rocket science. But why you agreed was beyond you.
As the song ended and a new one began, you turned and gave him a small smile. He led you away from the dance floor and out a side door from the club, into a small, dark alley. He was definitely more familiar with this place than you were. The brisk night air felt good on your searing skin.
Before you even had time to turn around, he grabbed your wrists and drove you backward into the brick wall of the opposing building, pinning your hands above your head. The door clicked shut behind him and the music dulled to muted thudding.
He said your name in a rumble, lips hovering perhaps a centimeter from yours.
This was not where you expected to be. Not pressed against the wall in an alleyway, just outside of the Bronze, certainly not by a man whose stare pierced right through you. You could feel the vibration from the bass line through the cement. Those eyes could burn a person, but looking away simply was not an option anymore. You weren't sure how you got to this point, one moment you were sitting by your lonesome, and now you were here. Your friends looked like they were doing just fine hanging out with other people that weren't you. That was the thought process, but then this sharply-dressed man had appeared out of nowhere, voice teasing and incredibly sensual. At first it was a bunch of harmless flirting, you commenting on his clothing and more. But now you were here, desperate and wanting him.
"Such a pretty thing, make me want to ruin you," he told you, and the way he said it made your stomach flip, nervous knots tying themselves. Who was he, really? Why was this such a turn on? Normally you wouldn't go out in a dark alleyway with a handsome stranger and allow him to do what he pleased with you. This was so drastically different from your usual behavior it almost made you afraid. His eyes roved over your body, lingering on your neck longer than was necessary. A heat began to blossom within you, not embarrassment like you thought would happen, but desire. He cupped your chin, thumb brushing against your cheekbone.
"Spike," you breathed, chest heaving. In the dark alley, his eyes looked nearly black. Before you had time to ponder that, to think at all, his mouth was on yours, claiming it ruthlessly. He slipped his tongue out, gliding it across your bottom lip before giving it a sharp nip, requesting entry. You acquiesced immediately, parting them just enough to touch your tongue to his.
The man knew what he was doing, that was indisputable. You attempted to remove your hands from his grasp above your head, pinned there by one of his own, but he held firm. His other hand began to wander, ghosting across your breast and brushing one hard nipple through the fabric of your dress. You squeezed your thighs tighter, trying to alleviate the desperate need for friction.
He broke the kiss and traced his mouth down your jaw, sucking and licking and nibbling in a dizzying trail along your pulse point.
His free hand, the damnable thing, moved from over the fabric of your dress to beneath it, sliding under the plunging neckline. Without preamble, he sharply pinched your nipple and caused your hips to buck forward slightly, in response to which he chuckled against your throat.
He traced his tongue along your bottom lip, provoking hitched breaths and choked down moans that only got louder as he pressed you further against the wall. Once he dropped your hands, your fingers immediately started trailing along his waistline until you reached under his shirt, nudging it up, finally getting your hands on the cool pale skin that had been obscuring your sense of rationality. His skin was cooler than you expected and it elicited a shiver from you, but you were sure that your body heat was going to be enough for the both of you with how flushed you were becoming.
He leaned his head down, breaking away from the kiss when it became too much, panting heavily to catch his breath. His hands were almost trembling when he reached to unzip the zipper on the front of your dress. He immediately looked back up with lust in his eyes and he pressed your lips to his, dominating and searing hot. You were then dragged by the collar and pushed roughly against the other side of the wall, switching the position and keeping you on your toes. There was little you could do in protest when his thigh was pressed directly into your crotch, and you felt nibbling on your lower lip. It was messy. Uncoordinated. But you had never felt like this before. Overwhelmed with desire. The need to be touched.
His breath was hot against your already boiling skin. "You smell so fucking good. I'm sure you taste even better."
You felt the heat pooling in your abdomen at the raspiness of his voice and the evident desire in his words. The cool touch of his hands barely meets your neck and his leg moved forcefully into your aching body while his fingers danced just above your skin, teasing you and making you moan onto parted lips. Rhythmically pressing his thigh against your clothed crotch, he licked across your upper lip and kissed you again. You were losing it. You just wanted him. You were aching for him. You never wanted him to stop touching you.
You two broke apart again. He moved his head into the crook of your neck, and he did nothing until you felt a heated breath and hungry lips reach the edge of your ear. A hard bite and a tug on your earlobe before trails of opened-mouth kisses down your neck had you seeing stars. You scratched red marks on his back as you tried to keep yourself from collapsing, legs ready to give out at any moment.
"Fuck," you huffed weakly as he stopped just above the base of your neck, "please."
You reached down, fingers grazing against cool skin, frantically pulling at the hem of his jeans, blindly searching for a way to get rid of any and all barriers keeping you from feeling the bliss of skin to skin contact.
"I need it so bad," you whined, cheeks flushed and voice quivering.
You felt his lips curl into a smile against your skin, followed by a particularly rough thrust against your crotch. You bit your lip hard to stifle your moans, and his mouth met your skin gently, but it felt like a pinch, definitely leaving a hickey.
He pulled away, breathing against your neck. "Impatient, are we?"
You pulled your zipper down the rest of the way until your bra was fully exposed as well as your stomach, inhaling sharply as the cool air meets your scorching skin. He leaned back to look you over, eyes darkening with something unclear to you. Desperation. Greed. Desire. You couldn't get enough of it.
He leaned back in immediately, tracing his tongue along your skin, across your collarbone. He reached his hands around your waist and tightly grabbed at your skin with his nails, invoking a whimper, and licked down your neck. You shuddered, clenching your eyes shut, pushing your head back hard against the wall. He started by kissing it, pressing circles around it with his tongue, stopping to suck every now and then. You were painfully aching now. You couldn't help but let your voice out at how good it felt. Spike's body was like electricity to you. He savored the taste of skin and heat. The taste of sin.
His lips were on your neck in an instant, kissing up the pulse point until he reached your lips, his hands skirting under your dress and taking in your soft, bare skin. Vampires were takers by nature, they didn't ask when they wanted something, and agreeing to go to the alley with him was more than an open invitation that you knew the risks of. Though, you didn't know about the vampire part. His lips traveled back to your neck and the only warning you had was of his teeth grazing against your skin before fangs sunk in with a jolt of pain.
"Spike," you gasped sharply, the intensity of the sting had made you shiver violently. You were sure he had broken skin and you could feel blood trickling down your neck, the smell of iron assaulting your nostrils. The hunger that consumed Spike was unbearable when the scent of your fresh blood hit his nose. It was when he looked back up at you that you felt a pang of panic strike your heart. He didn't look like the Spike you knew just a few moments ago. No, it couldn't be—you weren't just with a vampire—that was the worst possible scenario. It couldn't be—
But it was.
His face was horrifically different. The first thing you noticed was his glowing yellow eyes and the disappearance of his eyebrows, his pronounced and bumpy brow ridges, those elongated upper canines and pointed upper incisors. It was his vampire face. He was a vampire.
Spike was a vampire. He was a monster. A monster that wanted your blood.
"Aw what's wrong, pet? Cat got your tongue? You were just crying my name out like a pretty thing just a moment ago," he mocked you, tilting his head to the side with a vile grin on his face.
After your initial shock, your fight or flight response kicked in, and without giving it another thought, you decided to try and fight. You made a futile attempt to strike him with your hands but he quickly took hold of them and pinned them above your head, his grip tight and unrelenting as they scraped against the harsh, biting stone. He sunk his fangs back in your achingly sensitive skin and it made you yelp out in sheer agony, it burned and it made you weak in the knees in the worst way possible. You tried to free your hands from his ruthless, bruising clutch and you could feel his sharp nails digging into wrists.
"Please, I don't want to die, please don't—" you pleaded brokenly. You never thought you would be the type to beg for your life until now. It's true that you never truly know how you're going to react in a life or death situation until you're in one. You felt pathetic and ashamed the moment the words slipped out but it was too late and there was no helping it. You were young and you had your whole life ahead of you, as the older ones say, and you did not want to go out like this. You felt like you had barely lived your life, and there was still so much you wanted to do, so much you wanted to see. It couldn't end like this. You were petrified like a victim caught in a spider's web, entangled in fear and affliction, and the venom was sinking in. You were his prey and he caught you, but you were not going to be hunted.
He was keeping you pinned in place between the hard wall and his body by pressing against you, and you barely had any room to maneuver your limbs, or move at all in fact. He was so strong and heavy, and you were sure he could have killed you within seconds, but instead he wanted to toy with you, and make you suffer, like how a cat captures a mouse and plays with it for a prolonged period of time before it inevitably puts the mouse out of its misery. You really did not want to be that mouse.
"I knew you were a beggar, pet, and honestly it's a bit pathetic but go on, plead your case. I do love it when they beg," Spike teased cruelly in a rasp. He was getting off on this. He was getting off on your suffering and misery. You were just another blood bag to him. He wanted to ruin you. He wanted to break you. Piece by piece. No, you couldn't give him that satisfaction of begging for your life. You couldn't give him more power over you than he currently had. If you were going to die tonight, you had to die fighting and without pleading for mercy from a blood-sucking vampire.
You gritted your teeth, huffing and puffing, and you felt like a prey captured by a predator, a cold-blooded predator that just wanted to see you writhe and cry and feed on every ounce of your blood. You should have known better than to leave the bar with a handsome stranger in Sunnydale. Now you were probably going to die here, in a dark alleyway, and your friends would hear about it in the news. You could see the headlines now: College student found brutally murdered in alleyway, blood drained from her body.
No, you did not want to be another missing college student, or another missing murdered college student. It was not going to end like this. It couldn't end like this. You had to do something.
With every ounce of strength you could muster and with little space you had, you raised your knee and struck him directly in the groin. Hard. He was temporarily stunned from the unexpected attack and in his surprise he took a step back, grunting out and doubling over, and this gave you enough time to scramble away and run for your life.
"Hey, where are you going? We were just getting started, getting to know each other!" he called out to you and bursted into condescending laughter. He gave you a head start before he started chasing you.
Your heart was beating like a war drum and your feet practically bounced off the pavement as you quickened your pace. You had no choice but to run, you knew that if you were caught by him that you would be killed. And if you were lucky, it would be quick and nearly painless, but something told you that Spike liked to drag things out because he found it more entertaining. You had to keep going. You were racing through the alley faster than you'd thought possible.
"I love the thrill of the chase, pet, so I don't think running away is going to do you any favors," Spike mocked.
The heavy steps of your pursuer's boots followed you, the sound of low laughter reaching you. A second later there came the sound of more footsteps, these lighter, faster. You gave a burst of speed, emerging in a large clearing. If you could make it to the other side, maybe you could lose him. You stumbled once you twisted your neck around to make sure you still had distance between you and your assailant. The crunch of leaves under your feet and shallow breathing was filling the air, hand pressed against the leaking wound spilling out from your neck.
You sucked in a quick breath as your foot slipped on the damp leaves covering the ground, but you had no time to stop. You were grateful that you chose to wear flats instead of heels tonight. You kept pushing forward, hot tears were starting to blur your vision but you didn't have a moment to wipe them away so you blinked them back. From somewhere behind you—you could hear a growl, deep and throaty, and the promise of danger that sent violent shivers up your spine.
You tried to be clever by swinging out to your left and then doubling back, hoping to disguise your tracks. Though, you should have known that this simple ruse would not be a hindrance for a tracker with supernatural keen senses. He ran with an unnatural, inhuman type of speed but then sometimes he would slow down his pace, and you were sure he was doing this to mess with you, he was trying to knock you off balance so that you wouldn't see him coming.
Your pulse was ringing in your ear as you ran, one foot in front of the other, and you nearly slipped again on the wet concrete, but after steadying yourself quickly you took off sprinting with renewed vigor, knowing full well that any small amount of lost time could be the difference between life and death. You were fueled with a rush of adrenaline, fueled with the primal desire to live. The voice of the vampire pursuing you grew consistently closer, remaining steady despite the speed he was moving at. Your legs were starting to burn and your heart was stuttering in your chest but you were not going to allow that to hinder you.
Spike was amused by your desperation, knowing you had no chance of escaping him if he had anything to say about it. He enjoyed the chase after all and he could pursue you for as long as it took to catch you. A feeling of panic settled in your stomach, your footsteps beginning to falter. He was allowing you to only get so far, before all too quickly catching up again, mocking the very notion that you could possibly shake your pursuer.
The blood was steadily trickling down your neck, covering your collarbones and soaking through your dress. You weren't the most religious person, but that didn't stop you from frantically mumbling prayers under your breath in hopes that someone—anyone would save you from this monster. Your lips were quivering, and adrenaline spiking through your body as your feet hit the ground.
You dashed through the twisting alleys and sidewalks, glancing over your shoulder, you caught a flash of black or the whisper of a duster. He was closing in fast.
It was a losing battle. You were quick, but your endurance couldn't match his. You were growing weary now, and your pace was gradually slowing.
"You're a quick little thing, aren't you love?" his gravelly voice seemed to echo all around you. You stopped cold in your tracks, turning your head frantically to search for the direction he was coming from. Your throat was burning and tasted like blood. Your heart was pounding against your eardrums, beating so fast it felt like it was about to burst out of your chest.
Crouching down, you tried to take breaths, willing yourself to take air into your lungs. You were only human. You could only do this for so long. Blood was seeping through your fingers. No matter how much pressure you applied, it just wouldn't stop. There was a soft dripping against the leaves below you like raindrops lazily falling from the sky above.
"You've got a lot of fight in you, you're not one to give up even when you know it's a lost cause, huh love?" Spike told you with a dark chuckle.
Shooting up from your spot, you began sprinting blindly ahead, scrambling over despite yourself. You didn't know where you were headed but you just knew that you needed to find a way out. You couldn't let him win.
"You're leaking all over yourself, pet, it's actually quite concerning," his voice whipped around you like the air rushing past your face. Your legs felt like jelly, only running on adrenaline to push you forward and out of harm's way. Your vision was becoming spotty and tilted. Each harsh breath you took threatened to send you to the ground. You looked about your whereabouts and through the darkness you realized that you had ventured into the cemetery, surrounded by tombstones and dying flowers and dirt.
"You know you can't run forever. Those little legs are gonna give out on you," he said, and his words were followed by a dark sadistic chuckle, the sound encasing the space surrounding you. You lurched forward, but then despite yourself you nearly fell to the ground. Where were you running to? You hadn't thought it through because your only goal was to get away from him but you didn't know where and how you would escape him.
"I've got to say, you're making this a lot of fun, it's more entertaining this way, the thrill of the chase, the exhilaration of the hunt, it's what makes life worth living for," he told you. Your knees buckled below you, chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to draw in ragged breaths. You had to take a break before you could keep going, but there wasn't time. The moment you relaxed, your head felt dizzy. You had to get out of here before he found you.
The cemetery was eerily quiet, only the sound of a crow cawing in the distance.
"Hey there, pretty thing."
You let out a loud shriek, throwing your body to the side in your shock. He was looming over you, crouched down where you once sat. He was right behind you, and you hadn't even heard him coming.
"You smell absolutely amazing, you know that?" he drawled out. His attention was focused on the smudged blood across your neck, his fingers gathering up the blood on your skin before he brought it close to his face. He dipped his tongue out to slide it down his finger, closing his eyes and sighing as he tasted the crimson stain.
"Such a sweet thing, leaving a trail behind just for me to follow," he mocked. The taste of copper began to crawl up your throat, your hand losing its strength and falling to your side, blood dripping from the wound he left behind. A harsh sob escaped from your trembling lips, and you tried with all your might to scoot away from him.
He stared at you like an eagle watching its prey struggle in vain, studying its movements for the right time to attack. Elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand, head cocked to the side. He smiled at you, sharp pointy fangs catching your eyes.
"This game of hide and seek was fun, but unfortunately, all good things come to end, isn't that right, love?" Spike taunted. He leaned over as he reached out to you, his fingers extending to grab hold of your bloodied neck but then in a flash something happened.
Before Spike was able to toy with you any further or capture you, he was yanked by the collar and abruptly thrown to the ground.
You saw the blur of a blonde ponytail swing in the air before your very eyes.
Your prayers were answered.
She appeared to be petite but you were quick to realize that she was a lot stronger than she looked. When she turned around to look at you and your eyes met, you were shocked to see that it was none other than Buffy. The Slayer. And now your savior. You stood there in awe as Spike was getting pummeled.
"Get out of here, now! Run!" she shouted at you.
It took you a moment to process what was happening but after she ordered you to run, you got back up on your feet and whispered a breathy thank you to her.
"Oh if it isn't the Slayer here to save the day! Why won't you just let me have my fun for once?" Spike said, chuckling in amusement even though he was getting punched in the face.
"I think I liked you a lot better when you weren't in Sunnydale," Buffy retorted before pulling her stake out.
You scrambled to your feet and started to run away just as Buffy had told you.
"I'm not done with you just yet, Buttercup! I will be back to finish what I started!" Spike called out to you before Buffy struck him in the face once again.
You ran and ran without looking back, his words echoing in your ears long after you finally made it back to your dorm.