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fandom-imagines-stories · 3 years

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Worth the World

Spike x Reader

Words: 2459

Summary: On a particularly bad day, the reader can barely bring herself to get out of bed. Spike does his best to comfort his girlfriend without being overbearing.

Notes: This is inspired by one of my favorite fics ever by @suckmysupernatural. I got this idea when having a depressive episode myself, so I hope you guys enjoy a little comfort fic with one of my favorite vamps. Plus, I’ve never written for Spike before and since I’m getting back into Buffy, I thought this would be the perfect time. (Also, this is entirely based on my own experience, so it might not be everyone’s experience with this kind of thing {but please be nice, I just used a few of the things I felt so it’s all based on my own emotions and insecurities!}) Enjoy!

Warnings: Depression, self-loathing, anxiety (This imagine was really just a way for me to put down my emotions and write something comforting, but I hope you all like it too)

You didn’t want to move. You weren’t really sure if you could. Your limbs just felt… heavy. Forcing your legs to move, you slowly swung them over the side of the bed, using all the strength you could muster to sit up straight.

It wasn’t that something terrible had happened. In fact, the day before had gone pretty well. You’d spent most of it watching movies with Willow and Buffy and, when the sunset, you went on a long evening walk with your boyfriend. There were no deadly forces plotting world domination, no vengeful vamps after you or your friends. Hell, your favorite restaurant was open and you brought home leftovers for breakfast.

Now, the idea of eating made your stomach turn. You managed to shuffle your way to the kitchen of your apartment, but just stood in front of the counter, leaning on the marble top for support. Just standing there felt like it took every ounce of energy you had. It was almost painful, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You did your best to keep them from falling. You had places to be today, meeting up with the gang and you didn’t want to worry them with your moping.

With slow steps, you made your way back to your room to get dressed. Of course, most of your clothes were dirty and you didn’t care enough to wash them. So you threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and put on some shoes, hoping no one would ask about it. You caught your reflection and felt that dark, empty feeling in your chest grow. Pathetic. Your shoulders sagged forward and you blinked away more tears as you watched them well in your eyes. You didn’t have the right to feel like this. How much had Buffy been through and she still greeted every day with a smile. Everything was perfect and yet you were pathetic enough to still want to crawl back into bed. You just hoped that you would feel better by the time you saw everyone. Especially Spike.

You sat with your legs pulled up to your chest. Xander and Willow were debating whether or not using wooden bullets would be a good vamp killer. Buffy was listening in amusement and Giles just looked exasperated, distracting himself by putting books back in their proper place on the shelves. No one said anything about your pajamas. You actually felt kind of invisible, like no one even really knew you were there. It made the empty feeling that much worse.

“What do you think, Y/N?”

“Xander, don’t you think that’s a little insensitive?”

“What? It’s not like we’re planning on dusting her boyfriend. Even if he is annoying and evil and-”

“Xander.” Willow said sternly. When you looked up, everyone’s eyes were on you.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t really paying attention.” Your voice held little to no emotion. You were almost too exhausted to feel anything. You just felt hollow.

“If I shot Spike with a wooden bullet do you think he would, you know,” Xander made a motion with his hands that was meant to simulate a vampire dying. “Just theoretically, of course.”

Everyone was expecting a witty remark. You and Xander were close and teased each other often, especially about your relationship with Spike. Instead, you just shrugged, your eyes fixating on a spot on the table.

“Maybe.”

The group collectively exchanged a look of concern, but didn’t press anything. After all, what reason could there be for you to be upset? They knew that if something had happened with Spike, you would tell them and there weren’t any recent deaths to worry about, so they continued on with their playful conversations about breaking curses and some movie that they had watched recently. It felt like you were intruding- like an unwanted bystander that everyone wished would just disappear. While no one had said anything like that, the thoughts filled your head nonetheless.

This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, but you’d never told them. An episode like this hadn’t happened in months so you had hoped they had stopped. Some days you were as happy as you ever had been, but others you felt like a burden. Worthless and pathetic- pitying yourself for no reason at all.

Spike didn’t even know, even after almost a year of dating. You never dreamed of telling him. Spike was always saying that you were the strong one. You were the one that helped him through every day of his endless living. He got his soul for you. What would he say if he saw you like this? If he knew the doubts and loathing going through your head. He would know that you’re weak and vulnerable and you didn’t want that to happen.

So you didn’t tell them. You kept all of your thoughts inside of you as they ate away at your mind. On the outside, you just looked tired. Everyone knew that you stayed awake into the late hours because of Spike, so you hoped that’s what they would think. You were tired, but it wasn’t from lack of sleep. It was like your body just wanted to give up. Maybe if you could just wake yourself up, everything would go back to normal.

Buffy and Willow went out for coffee, so you went with them, hoping the caffeine would be enough to shake you out of this. Instead, it just made you more jumpy and anxious. The cup shook in your hand, but you kept drinking, still hoping that it would give you enough energy to fake it. This, like your out-of-it demeanor, did not go unnoticed.

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” Buffy asked, suddenly stopping her conversation with Willow about shoes. At first, you didn’t realize she was talking to you. You were so focused on the thoughts swarming around in your head, you hadn’t noticed they were both looking at you with concern.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you’ve been spacing out all morning. What’s going on?”

“I guess I’m just tired.” You shrugged, grimacing from the effort the small movement took.

“Are you sure? Did Spike do something stupid, because you know I’ll-”

“Really, Buffy, I’m okay. I think I just need to go home and rest for a while.” You finished the rest of the coffee, feeling your heart beat faster as the anxiety built up in your chest. “I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

“Okay.” Buffy gave you a skeptical glance and Willow smiled sincerely.

“Feel better, Y/N.”

“I’ll see you guys later.” You faked the best smile you could before turning away from them.

“Is she going to be okay?” Willow wondered, watching the way you nervously messed with the hem of your shirt as you walked. Buffy narrowed her eyes and grabbed her bag.

“I don’t know, but if she won’t talk to us about it, there’s one person she will.”

“Oh do we have to go there? You know that place gives me the creeps.” Willow whined. Buffy just gave her a look and the two trekked off in search of your sun-hating boyfriend.

You stood in the middle of your living room as the tears slowly started to pour down your cheeks. The coffee must have given you enough energy to cry and now you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move, you just stood, frozen by the overwhelming emptiness inside you. Pathetic. Useless. Worthless. Everything was swirling around your head, breaking you down further until you had to lean against the window sill to stay standing.

You could faintly hear something outside your door, but you made no motion to open it. It sounded far away, or maybe you were just blocking it out. All you could hear was your heart pounding, along with the hundreds of doubts rattling in your head. It was until the door burst open that you flinched.

“First, the slayer comes banging on my crypt, telling me that something’s wrong and then you leave me to break down your door- if I could die, you would have scared me to death. Why didn’t you open the door?” Spike huffed in frustration. You didn’t turn around. Frankly, you hardly noticed he was there. His irritation quickly faded, replaced by worry. “Y/N, love, what is it?”

You still didn’t respond, keeping your back turned with your hands clinging to the window sill to keep from falling. Spike approached you slowly and you thought you heard his footsteps, but part of you thought you were just imagining him. Why would he come for you? It was the middle of the day and the sun was high in the sky. A rush of guilt washed over you. He came here despite the danger of being burned and you didn’t even have a reason. You’d put him at risk for your own pitiful problems.

“Darling, why won’t you look at me?” He took another step towards you, but stopped. The sun’s rays created a shield around you, preventing him from pulling you into his arms. “If you could just lower the blinds, that would make this far less awkward.”

“You d-didn’t need to come here. T-the sun.” You stammered. You wanted to reach for the curtains, but you still couldn’t move your arms without your legs giving out.

“A little sunlight isn’t going to stop from me from getting to you,” he said sincerely. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him rush to the window, the sound of his skin sizzling in the light made you let go of the ledge. Your legs buckled just as he got the curtains closed.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You had hurt him. All you had to do was reach up and shut out the sunlight and you couldn’t even do that. He burned himself just to reach you.

“It’s alright. I’ve got you. It’s alright.” He held you up for a moment before sinking to the floor to hold you in his lap. “I’ve got you love, I’ve got you.”

“Y-you shouldn’t be here, Spike. I’m not-” You hid your face from his view so he would see the tears. “I’m not worth all of this. There’s something wrong with me. One minute I’m fine and the next I’m like this and I don’t even know why. I don’t have a reason to feel like this. It’s like I’m… broken or something.”

“You aren’t broken.” Spike said softly, tucking your head under his chin and gently rocking you back and forth. “You’re human.”

He held you like that for a long while, not saying anything or even moving off of the floor. He didn’t make you look at him until he was sure you had relaxed enough. Putting a finger under your chin, he gently lifted your face to meet his.

“I’m sorry about all this.” You sniffed, using your sleeve to wipe some of the dampness off your cheeks.

“I don’t want to hear those worse from you for the rest of the day.” Spike gave you a small smile and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I would trek across deserts wrapped in a blanket if it meant being here with you. Every second is worth it.” Now, he lowered his lips down to yours for a slow, sweet kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes were shining with the soul of a man in love. “To me, love, you’re worth the world.”

You stared into his eyes and knew that he meant every single word. While it didn’t chase away your doubts or the empty feeling in your chest, it helped you see that this feeling would end. And for now, that was enough.

“I love you.” You whispered, pulling him closer. He kissed the top of your head.

“I love you too, darling.” He hooked his arm under your knees and stood, holding you against his chest. “Now, why don’t I get you something to eat and we can spend the day in bed?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“Spike.” You laughed lightly.

“There,” He beamed, “I knew I could get a smile.”

He carried you into your room and placed you on your usual side of the bed, laying your fluffiest blanket over top of you. Then he vanished into your kitchen, the sound of your cupboards opening and shutting reminding you that he had no idea where anything was. It almost made you smile. He came back in with a bowl of your favorite cereal, a class of milk, and a thin leather bound journal.

“What’s that?” You wondered as he climbed into the bed beside you. He handed you the cereal and milk and put his arm around you, pulling you close.

“Eat your cereal.” He ordered teasingly, opening up to the first page. You tried to look over his shoulder, but he pulled the book away, laughing. “Do you want me to read or not?”

“What is it?” Your curiosity made your tone amused and playful. You were starting to sound like you again.

“Well, ever since I got this pesky soul back, I’ve had an unbearable amount of feelings running about in my head, so I figured I could at least put them to good use.”

“Spike, are they…?” You perked up with excitement. He smiled sheepishly.

“Poems.” He looked down at seemingly endless pages of his writings and back at you. “They’re mostly about you, of course. I thought, maybe, you’d like to hear them. See if they’d make you feel a little better.” You were almost too awestruck to nod.

“I’d really like that.”

With your cereal in hand, you curled up beside him, laying your head back against his shoulder. He read softly and slowly, his gentleness with his words almost lulling you to sleep. The poems were beautiful, forcing you to stay awake if only to hear one more word. Spike felt you relaxed against him as he read and paused his reading to kiss your forehead, then your cheek, and lastly your lips.

You felt the emptiness for a few more days, but each day, he was by your side, making sure you ate and gave yourself time to breathe. By the time you started to feel normal again, he’d read most of his poems and continued to write more and you were able to go for your evening walks without feeling exhausted. Your friends were more than supportive and helped you through it all while still giving you the space you needed.

It wasn’t the last time an episode like this happened, but now you always knew that, no matter what, you’d never be alone.

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks; @kendahl0216

#spike x reader #james marsters #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #btvs #spike #spike buffy #xander harris #buffy summers #willow rosenberg #buffyverse #comfort fic #depressive episode #comfort boyfriend fic #cute

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prose-for-hire · 3 years

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Face your demon

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: Could you do A Spike x reader where the reader is in love with him, but doesn't show her emotions (except for getting easily flustered around him), but Spike overhears hears her talking to willow about it and he confronts her, ending in them being together?

Requested by: @wiccanindigo

Requested tags: @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @artsymaddie @shy-ginger-in-the-graveyard @cameo-greaves

You were pretty neutral in public. Your face rarely shifted other than to a polite smile or perhaps a confused frown should the moment take you by surprise. Other than this human reaction, you would usually maintain a resting face. One that appeared to most as if you didn’t wish to be in their company. Or anywhere at all really.

You felt a lot. You really cared about your friends, the people you loved. It was just near-impossible to express this. At least, in a way that you were comfortable. It was much easier to hold people at a distance. That way, you didn’t risk rejection. Or painful, bitter emotions that you didn’t enjoy.

So, you tended to hide your emotional side completely. Rather than wrestle with articulating the way you felt. It wasn’t necessarily a conscious decision, just one that you lived with. You struggled expressing your emotions – not only on your face but also verbally. Any way, really. It could be so hard.

Luckily for you though, you had some very caring and empathetic friends. The Scoobies. They understood and gave you the time you needed – between fighting apocalypses of course.

You were sat in the Magic box with all of your friends around you. Buffy, Willow, Xander, Anya, Tara and Giles. You were characteristically just staring into the centre of the room as the usual antics played out around you.

You contributed now and again although not as passionately as the others, it must be said. You tended to bounce off of someone else’s point and repeat it if you agreed with it with a shrug. As if you would rather be anywhere but there.

You weren’t shy. In fact you came across as the complete opposite. Cool, collected. Near apathetic should your friends not understand how deeply you truly did care – you just didn’t express it as much as most. There was no need to gush in your book. You weren’t one to keep your heart on your sleeve and make the entire room look at it.

Well, that was until him.

Spike ran in, slamming the door shut behind him. It slammed so hard the entire store shook and he sauntered in as if it was nothing. It made the corners of your mouth tug into an almost-smile but you looked down to avoid anyone seeing.

There he was, your weakness. The one that could render you speechless. A flustered mess. A heat would rise in your cheeks and your voice would appear weak and just wholly unlike yourself.

You had it bad. He always did this, walking in with that swagger. Those cheekbones. That look…

His eyes were straight on you. As they always were. You were a mystery to him, one he was so desperate to figure out. You had noticed the way he always made his way to you. The way he dropped his voice and made comments about the others in the room in the hopes of you cracking a smile.

You spoke to him as much as you could, but often your words failed you. You didn’t want to give anything away. Couldn’t. You didn’t want him to tease you, reject you in such a painful way.

He was Spike, after all. He could have anyone he wanted you were sure of it.

The point was, though, that he wanted you. And you were too wrapped up in focusing on how to breath properly when he was around that you didn’t notice.

Spike found your resting face beautifully morbid. He found you to be strong-willed and the very little he sensed or heard from you he found himself clinging to. You would be stamped onto his brain for the rest of his un-life, he was sure of it.

He was in so deep. Thought about you constantly. Wanted to know what you were doing, what you were thinking. Imagined himself by your side. Taking you into his bed… oh, and I won’t even start on the dreams. They left him aching. Such deep, unending desire. For you. God, it could only ever be you.

“Alright, pet? Don’t rush to say you missed me, written on your face already” He smouldered in that way he did. Hoping for any kind of reaction.

You looked up at him before immediately looking away. A ghost of a smile on your face as you shifted in your seat. He took this as an invitation to sit beside you and so he did.

“Hi Spike” You just about managed before your voice wavered. You didn’t like the way he rendered you this flustered mess. But, at the same time you couldn’t help but completely love it.

Your usual cool demeanour gone. Lost in those beautiful eyes of his. You could happily live in his eyes for the rest of your life.

You managed to position yourself in your seat in such a way that meant he made up most of you vision, without it looking glaringly obvious to anyone else. He lived in your peripheral vision. At least this way a little part of him was yours.

You became a little brave and moved your eyes to look at him properly, no longer just from the side. He was beautiful. The way that t-shirt clung perfectly to his torso. The way his leather duster managed to land in such a relaxed way on his shoulders. Effortless cool. Or, that’s what you assumed.

You loved him. His looks. His personality. Just everything. You couldn’t escape it.

Something snapped you out of staring. Everyone’s eyes were suddenly on you. Staring.

“Huh?” You asked, feeling a heat rise in your cheeks as he turned to face you properly too. You had apparently managed to miss the entire meeting. Not one scrap of the plan had entered your head. You were consumed by him instead.

“Y/n? You sure that’s okay?”

“We’ll be fine on patrol, right love?” Spike smirked at the rest of the room and raised an eyebrow which made everyone reconsider.

“We can switch if evil dead makes you uncomfortable” Xander offered kindly which made spike glare. He wanted you to himself.

“No that’s good- uh, fine. It’s fine. I’ll patrol with Spike” you rushed out at a completely different pace than anyone was used to hearing you speak.

What you were supposed to be looking for, you didn’t know. You hadn’t been listening just focusing on regulating your breathing. Wiping the sweat from your palms at the proximity. He was sat so close to you. You wanted to just lean against him. Whisper how you felt.

You and Spike walked out into the cool night air. Mostly in silence, although you could almost hear the cogs in his mind whirring to come up with something to say. You didn’t realise but he was trying to impress you. Trying to get you to smile. He loved it when you smiled. Near melted.

He then finally asked something he had so wanted to say to you. For such a long time.

“We could, uh, blow this off, go for a drink?” He let the proposition hang in the air.

You didn’t even begin to consider this had been something more than a teasing joke because he didn’t want to be stuck patrolling anymore. Just wanted to rebel against Buffy’s sudden authority in his life.

“Yeah, because I’ve always thought you’d look great with a redwood through your chest” You spoke, referring to what Buffy would do to him should he leave you or the demon to run through the streets.

“Pet-”

“It’d make a pretty accessory. Bring out your eyes” You deadpanned and he just stared. Why were you like this? Why did your flirting so quickly descend into just being rude?

It was like a disease. You were riddled with it. Any sense that your mouth would spill the contents of your mind and something took over. Possessed you, began to say the very opposite of what you wished to say.

You wanted him to ask you out for a drink. Tell you that you looked nice, that he felt lucky to have someone like you to take out. Have on his arm. Show off. You wanted to loop your arms around him and embrace him. Kiss his lips. Have him in your bed. His body yours and only yours.

But, instead, you had just told him he would look better dead. Or, well, more dead. He had taken this as a firm no, you didn’t want to go out with him. He looked upwards, trying to stop the stinging at the back of his eyes before he nodded firmly and just shrugged.

“Whatever, let’s find this vamp”

Oh, right. It was a vampire. You were supposed to be looking for a vampire. That at least narrowed it down… kind of.

Both of you took turns in glancing at the person beside them. So desperately wishing to touch them. Have some kind of intimacy. It was hard having the one that you loved so close and yet emotionally so far away.

There was a distance. A canyon between you that you both wished to cross. But it was so hard. There would be no turning back.

You never caught up with the vampire you were meant to find and Spike walked you home instead when it got too late. You tried to thank him for the gesture but he had turned and walked away. Licking his wound at the rejection you had inflicted upon him without realising.

Despite the fact you had hurt him though, he had needed to make sure you got in safe. Protecting you from harm meant everything even if you wouldn’t give him the time of day.

It had been a couple of days since this unwitting rejection and you and Willow had arrived early waiting to meet with the others at the Magic Box. Giles had gone to pick up some order sat the back. Which left just you and your friend. Well, that’s what you thought anyway.

She was the only one that knew how you felt for Spike. She had seen you watching him, a new expression unlocked on your face. As if she had won a quest or something in a video game and been allowed to see it.

Conversation had quickly turned to this man that you were so in love with it managed to fluster even you. You near hid your face from your friend at even the implication you liked him. But you were comfortable that Willow was being supportive.

You discussed that you liked him. Truly admitted it out loud for the first time. Not realising that the man himself was stood around the corner listening. He loved to hear your voice and so had stayed back because you seemed to speak less in his company.

Spike’s jaw tensed as he heard you talking about this mystery man though. He had never heard you gush this way before. Stumbling over your words to describe such longing. You usually appeared so calm, collected. He wished to be the one that sent you weak at the knees in the way that this nameless idiot did. He guessed it was probably Xander.

Stupid bloody Xander. Gormless nit.

“Maybe, uh, you should tell him? You can’t know his feelings unless you try” Willow offered.

Spike guiltily hoped that you would have to face rejection so that he could comfort you instead. Spend more time with you, prove to you that you could trust him with your emotions. He so longed to have your attention. Your trust.

“I can’t… I-it’s too hard” You sighed and his spirits lifted, maybe this would be his chance instead. While you tried to build up your courage, he could show you how much you meant to him. How much he wanted you.

Nothing could have prepared him for what came out of your mouth next. There had been only a slight pause while you sifted through your emotions.

“He’s so- he’s… he’s Spike” You had no other description other than this spike-ness was all that you wanted. You near craved it. But also these words explained how hard it was. How trying to speak to him was near impossible. Willow nodded in understanding and patted your shoulder sympathetically.

“It could be good for you, y’know? Facing your, uh, demon…” Willow’s voice dried up. Turned into a little squeak. You looked up, confused.

There he was, as if your longing had been a magnet to the man himself. Your eyes bulged and your mouth opened in shock. The most your face had ever given away.

Willow stumbled over some excuse that neither Spike nor you heard before she left for the exit. Allowing you to both speak.

“I’m the bloke you’ve been harpin’ on about?” He said slowly. He did this only because he wanted to hear it from your mouth again. As if he wasn’t entirely sure if he had dreamed it or not.

“We don’t have to make it into a big deal… I’m sure I’ll, uh, get over it” You tried, avoiding the rejection you could feel coming.

“Don’t” He said quickly, “God, please bloody don’t get over it. You’d break a poor dead man’s heart if you did”

“What?” You asked, frowning in confusion. He couldn’t possibly feel the same way… could he?

“Don’t be daft, love. Asked you for a drink didn’t I? Trailed after you despite you not even pretending to take an interest. Been there just in the nick of time before somethin’ nasty ate you?” He reeled off things he had pretty much done in the last fourty-eight hours. It made you gasp with surprise. How had you missed this? “Tell me I haven’t bent over bloody backwards for even a shred of your affection,”

“Spike…” You looked away, it was so hard. You didn’t even know how to begin to say what you needed to.

“Please, don’t shy away. Can’t stand it when your eyes wander…”

“Spike, I…” He took your hand, nodding subtly to show that he was there. That he liked you, that he needed to hear it. Whatever it may be, “I love you”

Spike pulled you into him immediately, knowing this must have bee hard for you. He was beginning to understand. You were like him, petrified of the rejection. The idea that the one that held such promise and stirred such feeling could ruin everything. You restored his faith in love. Rekindled his affections for the notion as well as confirming that he loved you too.

He crashed his lips to yours, his reply to your words communicated in this way. And you understood completely. Lips moving against yours, a display of affection only for you. he was firm in his love but so very tender. He embraced you close, a hand along the small of your back that made you shiver and lean further into him. Deepening this perfect kiss.

You parted, somewhat reluctantly and just gazed at the other for a moment before he spoke.

“I’m just glad you don’t have eyes for the whelp” Spike grinned and it made your face brighten. A smile. One that he savoured as you rolled your eyes at him being so pleased you liked him more than Xander.

He took your hand in his and sauntered beside you. Chest puffed out and proud to have you by his side. As if you had just gifted him the entire world.

Now you just had to break it to your friends. There was no way you would be hiding this.

#Spike btvs #Spike x reader #Spike imagine #Spike x you #Spike #btvs #btvs x reader #btvs imagine #btvs x you #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #spike fic #buffyverse #btvs fic #x reader #gn #gender neutral reader #gender not mentioned

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wordynerdygurl · 3 years

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Hello Everyone! I've been conspiring with @sammy-jo1977 to create a new series of sorts. We want to explore all those characters that started us on our journey into Fandoms, large and small.

This series will be a place for those ladies and gents who haven't had a lot of attention recently, are old favorites or the ones you can't seem to shake. If you would like to contribute a chapter to this guide, please send me a message! We want to have a full and accurate guide, so we are hoping you'll hop in with your character of expertise!

As an example, I'm posting our first story... I'd love to get your thoughts! With Love - Your WordyNerdyGurl

In The Stacks - A Rupert Giles Story

Author’s Note: This story is due, in large part, to my beta-bestie @sammy-jo1977 and it is part of the afore mentioned series. This character might be off television, but his fiery spirit lives on!! As always, reblogs/ shares are encouraged as are comments and love!

Pairing: Female Reader x Giles (Buffy The Vampire Slayer Series) Summary: You get up to mischief with the librarian, in the stacks. Warnings: SMUT ahead. General Buffy knowledge might help, but is not required. There’s a moment with a bit of blood, but hopefully nothing too triggering for anyone! I hope you enjoy!

“Mr. Giles?” “Just a moment!” You heard the clipped British voice answer before being drowned out by the heavy thumping of falling books and the rustling sound of shifting papers hitting the floor. As you stepped further into the Sunnydale High library, you weren’t surprised to see the familiar faces of Buffy, Willow, Xander and Cordelia huddled around a small table. The friends were practically inseparable and clearly close. You found their kinship adorable and couldn’t help smiling at the group as you drew closer. “Hello to some of my best students! And of course, to you Mr. Harris. How is everyone today?”

Willow, stalwart student and overachiever, smiled broadly, “Pretty good. I did ace my math quiz and got an A on my English paper… but, well, I only pulled a B on my Bio test and I just know that I could have done better.” Offering her friend a consoling pat to the shoulder, Buffy sighed, “It’s ok, Will. You’ll get those cells next time!” “Tune in next week as Willow passes her AP Biology test with flying colors, on ‘As Sunnydale Turns’!” Before anyone could counter, Giles came around the corner carrying a sturdy stack of texts which he dropped onto the table as gently as the large load allowed, “As always, you four are the best assistants a librarian could ask for.” “Come on Giles! You know I only hang out here for the beautiful ladies!” Pinching the bridge of his strong nose, Rupert Giles sighed, “I am well aware of where your interests lie, Xander.” “Please, he can hardly handle being with one beautiful girl.” That was from Cordelia who pouted prettily, her hand mirror open as she fixed her hair. “My girlfriend, ladies and gentlemen! Thanks for that, Cordy.” Snapping the case shut, staring down her beau, she smiled, “You’re welcome.” “Uh, Mr. Giles, if I may?” You hated to interrupt but you had come in with a purpose and you meant to see it through. “Yes, of course, how can I help?” Shuffling your feet, a bit nervous now with the asking, you smiled shyly, “I asked at the local library but they were absolutely no help. You see, I’m looking for a specific point of reference and I was led to believe that you could help me.” “Oh! Is it something for our Inner Vision collage boards? I love working on mine, only… It’s not my fault that I only see dark clouds and blood when I close my eyes.” “Well, Miss Summers, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And the best art challenges us to see that beauty.” “I hate to tell you what I see when I close my eyes.” Xander retorted. “Ah, Mr. Harris, your collage certainly showcases your, ahem, cultured world view.” “Hey! The Simpsons are fine art, ok? Just because they don’t live in a museum doesn’t mean they aren’t culture.” Giles, unable to stand by any longer griped, “Xander, I am almost positive that cartoons do not count as culture.” You started to answer but Buffy cut you short, adding, “Don’t mind Giles. If it doesn’t come out of some dirty, dusty old book it can’t be culture.” “It’s pop culture! The entertainment of my generation!” It was your turn to cut in, turning to the tweed clad gentleman, “Actually, Mr. Giles, Xander has a point. Cartoons and animation in general are all increasingly seen as valid forms of art. No matter what your tomes might tell you.” Smirking a little, he appraised your answer before replying, “Be that as it may, Mr. Harris, the amount of television you consume is corrosive.” Raising his hands in defense, Xander’s head swiveled between the two of you as Willow chimed in, “Give it up, Xander. You know you’ll never win and besides, I’m pretty sure that animation and art are different. Wait. They are, aren’t they?” “When I was in Rome last summer, the very attractive, very Italian tour guide told us that they’ve found painted graffiti on the Coliseum. It only goes to prove that times change but people don’t.” “Cordy’s right! About the art, not the dishy Italian. And they didn’t paint it, they carved it.” Bouncing her blonde hair decisively, Buffy made her declaration. “Wouldn’t paint be easier? I mean, who wants to carry a chisel in order to deface a wall?” “Oh! Oh! I know this! The kind of paint needed to last for centuries hadn’t been invented yet!” Willow, lifting out of her seat in the excitement of academic excellence, was giddy. “Yes, Willow, that is correct. In fact, a lot of the graffiti is simple and very crude. Mostly of the phallus, if memory serves. I’m sure I can find a documented case in Agrippa if you’ll all just-” And you watched as everyone rolled their eyes as Giles trailed off, lost now in the hunt for a specific volume which could be sited, should further proof be needed. “Ew. Pass.” “I’m with Buffy here, Giles. Keep your Grecian graffiti out of my brain.” “I’ll stick with the Simpsons, thank you very much.” “Yes, well. It’s not Grecian at all, is it? It’s Roman-” Smiling broadly, Buffy hopped off the table, “Giles is right. The Greeks were more into orgies!” “Buffy!” Willow’s shocked response made you cover a laugh with a fake cough. “-Of course, cites are rare. Very difficult to find documentation.” Giles, typically, hadn’t given up the search. Cutting through the chatter, louder than it ever needed to be, the period bell sounded. "Ugh. Gym class for me. Why is this even a thing?" "I don't know Buffy, I thought you liked showing off in your little shorts and beating the boys at basketball." "Cordy, that's enough. And while us boys do love looking at you, Buff... we don't love the beatings you regularly deliver." "Well, I have a free period Giles! Do you want me to stay and -" Snapping shut the leather book he was gripping, Giles caught your eye and turned to the peppy student, "Uh, no Willow, I don't think so. I believe I need to see what our Art Department is in need of at the moment." With a shrug, Willow began packing up her belongings as Xander slung his back back over his shoulder, "Will, you can come with me. I'm going to find a nice little corner, under a tree, and sleep away my study hall." “But, I… I could help find the Agrippa? Or… some other old Roman book?” Xander wrapped an arm around Willow and took Cordelia’s open hand, “But why do that when nothing calls?” "Another fine example of your scholastic aptitude, Mr. Harris", was your parting shot at the foursome as they walked out the door. "Well. Mr. Giles, now that we’re alone… Could I talk you into helping me out?" “Of course, of course.” Pushing his glasses further up his nose, fixing his light eyes on yours, “What are we looking for?” Sighing deeply, knowing the chances were slim, “I was hoping we would find some examples of Pre-Columbian deity carvings.” Pausing, his look serious, Giles peered at you, “Interesting. Anything in particular?” “Yes, actually.” Again you flushed, more than a little flustered at what you were really looking for, “I’m researching fertility icons.” Raising his eyebrows, Giles started, more than a little outside of his comfort zone, but you had to give him credit. He recovered from the shock rather quickly, “Oh… I… I see. Well yes, I’m sure we can find… something. If you’ll follow me, please.” “I’m right behind you.” Biting into your bottom lip, you smiled to yourself. Right behind Mr. Giles? What a place to be. Giles led the young art teacher through the deepest stacks of the library, pausing once or twice to confirm that she was keeping up with him. He was ashamed to admit that he had lost travelers a time or two as he stalked through his overstuffed shelves, knowing instinctively where to find the book he needed most. For her, watching the tweed covered bottom of Mr. Giles was no hardship. True, he was older and tad bit reserved in the best British way, yet she had the sneaking suspicion that underneath all the wool and starched cotton was the heart of a wild man poet. "Uh... just a bit further, I'm afraid. Books like this, well, I keep them at a greater remove." "It makes sense. Don't want the kiddos getting a hold of anything too tantalizing." "Of course not. As you well know, they don't need much help in the libidinous response department." You chuckled softly, nodding as the air around you grew stuffier, "Too true! You should see what some of them turn in and call art. It would make a blind man blush." And at the mention of blushing, you were shocked to see a rosy hue grow on Mr. Giles' cheeks. You liked it. It reminded you of the high color in a Vermeer painting. You couldn’t help the flutter in your belly at the thought, "Mr. Giles, have you ever seen a South American fertility statue?" "I can't say that I have... have... have you?" Something about the idea of you examining an ancient artifact directly connected to sexual congress made his body stir. "Hmm... Oh, yes. I was able to study in Mexico for a semester. Some of the art work is just incredible and the carvings, they're truly magnificent. Carefully made. Usually stone or..." swallowing hard, your throat suddenly dry, "hard wood." Breaking fast at the implication in your words, Giles froze in place which caused you to press directly against his broad, vest covered back. You had a second to register the soft scent of his aftershave; something spicy and masculine, which made your mouth water. Moaning quietly, you offered a weak apology, “Oh, I am so sorry, Mr. Giles.” Offering you his profile, the bookcases too cramped for him to turn around fully, you saw his sweet smile, “That’s… that’s quite alright. In fact, we’re here.” Stepping out of the way, you pushed back against the opposite wall, the shelves digging into your spine in the confined space. Giles bent over, giving you a great view of his backside, as he extracted a slim book from the bottommost ledge. When he stood up, directly in front of you, the narrow, book covered alcove caused him to stumble. Giles’ chest collided with your own, forcing the air out of your lungs. Instinctively, you lifted a leg, curling it over the swell of one trousered hip and lifting the hem of your knee length plaid kilt. Nose to nose in a compromising position, you exhaled a shaky breath as Mr. Giles inhaled, “Close quarters around here.” Shifting under his deceptively hard figure, it was difficult to ignore all the places that were firm to the touch, especially when you could feel so much through the thin barrier of your cotton panties. Bracing one arm on the obliging shelf biting into your shoulder, Giles pushed back a bit, lifting his weight off of you without making any other attempts to move away. He was so close now. Close enough to feel your fuzzy sweater and all the soft skin that trembled beneath it. Close enough to see the pound of your pulse in your throat. Close enough that when you licked over your bottom lip Giles could almost taste it too. And why shouldn’t he? “Giles?” Your voice was whisper soft, fanning hotly over the face of your colleague. “Uh… yes?” “I’m stuck.” Blinking behind his thick lenses, it took the normally quick witted Brit a second to process your words, “You’re stuck?” Nodding slowly, your hair curling over your cheek, “My… My skirt. It’s… uh, caught. Caught on something behind me.” “Good heavens! I’m so sorry, let me help you.” Slowly, Giles lowered your bare leg to the floor, his hand lingering for a second longer than absolutely necessary. He was still in your space. Still incredibly close to you. You arched away from the bookcase in an attempt to free yourself with a groan that sounded heady in the stuffy stacks. All you managed to do was force your sweater covered décolletage into Giles’ chest. Stammering, a wave of sweat breaking over his brow, “Allow me?” The way your skirt was caught pulled the bright plaid lower on your waist than you would normally consider decent. It meant that you had a fleshy strip of skin exposed along your tummy and Giles raised his eyebrows by means of asking permission to touch you. “Yea, yes. Please!” Tentatively, gently, you felt the strong fingers of Rupert Giles circle your waist and shivered at the unfamiliar familiarity of his touch. Your chin rested on his shoulder as he worked and you couldn’t help sighing when he opened his hands and pulled you closer. Under other circumstances you might have misunderstood the embrace but you were both professionals. Not that you hadn’t considered the handsome book guardian a time or two before. “I… I think we’re almost there. If you’ll just, maybe to the right?” “Um, sure.” Following his directions you twisted in his arms, trying hard not to tear your outfit or rub against Giles. All the close contact and talk of fertility gods had you feeling a little aroused and it wouldn’t do for your colleague to learn that fact. With a triumphant grunt, Giles set you free, only for gravity to kick back in. The momentum created by your falling took the gentleman and the entire Grollier’s Gothic Almanac collection with you. A cascade of papers, scrolls and dust rained down on you both. Coughing, aware that you were laying on something softer than the floor, you struggled into a sitting position, swatting away clouds of disintegrated pages, “Rupert? Are you alright?” From beneath you a rumbling grumble that sounded like, “Yes quite… you?” was heard. It was then that you realized exactly where you were. Straddling your friendly neighborhood librarian, surrounded by debris, but safe, all the same. “Oh my! I’m so-” “No, No. Please, don’t apologize. I’ve been meaning to reorganize this section and well, now it seems I’ve got no choice.” “You’ve got a bump. Right here…” Just over his right eye a small bruised egg, the color of lilacs, was starting to rise and you gingerly touched the swelling spot. “Then it will match the one on the back of my head perfectly.” “Poor Giles! All of this injury in the name of research!” “No one ever tells you the dangers one might encounter in the library.” His dry British wit sent you both into giggles and suddenly nothing could be funnier than the moment you were in with Mr. Giles. Looking up at you, his fingertip traced over your cheek, suddenly serious, “I’m not the only one with a war wound, it appears.” “Oh?” Your hand covered his as you realized that you had a small cut, bleeding just a little, over the apple of your jaw. Smoothing his thumb over your injury, Giles soothed you, saying, “Hush now, I think you’ll live.” And you watched as Giles sucked the drop of scarlet from the pad there, his green eyes on yours, daring you. Something about it was so… sinful. So dark. So alluring. Then his lips were on yours, suddenly and savagely. Hands, firm and capable, slid under the fluff of your sweater along your spine as you tangled your own in his dark hair. Giles, drawing you near, was satisfied only when you were splayed over him, writhing between the piles of text and stacks of piled paperbacks, as his tongue plundered your mouth. Trapped by his bent knees at your bottom, Giles helped center you over the firmness of his excitement, teasing you as you moaned, “Oh, oh Rupert!” “Call me Ripper.” Before the word had left your throat, Giles was sloppily kissing over your neck, sucking lightly on the skin revealed by the v-neck of your top. Sitting up quickly, you lifted the soft sweater over your head, tossing it away from you without concern. Like one of the teenagers you might chastise, you then hugged your lover tight, gasping when you felt the nip of teeth over your bra. “Giles… Uh, Ripper! Please, go easy?” With a hard grip on your upper thigh and one hand on the back of your neck, Giles held you still, smirking, “If you wanted easy you shouldn’t have come looking for fertility icons, my dear little art teacher. And if this particular article of clothing-” He paused long enough to pinch at your hardening nipple before continuing, “-is dear to you, take it off.” Clenching your abdominals at his crass language, more turned on that you could remember, you reached behind you. Unhooking the pretty scrap of lace and satin, you shyly covered yourself, biting into your bottom lip, “Fine… Ripper. Should I be worried for my virtue?” “Absolutely.” Without waiting for permission, Giles pulled your arms away, exposing your bare body to his blazing gaze, “You have nothing to hide, you know? You are-” “Just shut up and kiss me, Ripper.” And he did. Grinding your hips into his, it was impossible to ignore his hardening manhood, even through the fabric of his pressed trousers. Giles cupped your bottom, under your skirt but over your panties, bouncing you in place as if he was already inside of you. For your part, you tried to unbutton his pin striped shirt, but the force of his kisses was proving too distracting. “Oh, dear! Poor thing been kissed senseless?” He was teasing and cruel, but in the sexiest possible way. Red cheeked and huffing, you nodded, “Yes… let me touch you!” “Tsk… you didn’t say ‘please’.” “Please! Please, Ripper! Oh god, please let me!” Unseating you slightly, Giles leaned up on his elbows, cocking his head to one side as he took in the mess he had made of you, “Go ahead then. Unzip my pants.” “What?” Removing his glasses, eyeing you darkly, “You heard me, I think.” Swallowing hard, your hands shaking with excitement, you reached for Giles’ belt. Watching him, and only him, you slowly slide the leather from it’s buckle. When you popped the button of his pants and let your hand drag over his hardened length, Rupert groaned and tossed his head back, “Yes. Keep going.” Slowly, agonizingly so, you lowered the zipper as you were ordered to do, “What now, Ripper?” “Take me out. I want you to feel what you do to me.” “I can do that.” You played it cool, but the saucy words being said in that clipped British baritone did things to you. They made your thighs tighten, your belly flutter and your breath catch. Trailing a hand over Giles' barely exposed hip, you moved closer to the prize, your prize, as it pulsed with need. Wrapping your hand around the meaty girth of Rupert's member, you couldn't help stroking the silky hot skin, so vital in your palm. That it caused the man beneath you to moan your name only added fuel to the fire of your desire. Slick and sorely wanting, you licked your lips, ready to savor the flavor of your book stacking beau but he stopped you, saying, "Last chance to run back to the studio." "No way… Ripper." And you felt a rough jerk as your panties were removed by force, the air cool on your overheated core. Another kiss, full of needful things, distracted you as Giles parted your lower lips with his nimble fingers. Pumping into you, once, twice, just to ensure that you were ready, Rupert swiftly stretched your center. With your small hand guiding his shaft, you lowered yourself onto the engorged tower of his power, crying out a ragged, "Oh God!" You thought you were capable of handling any man, but the delicious spread Giles' fine form forced you to endure was more than you expected. Clutching at his bunched up sweater vest, your back arched tautly as Rupert dragged your hips down onto his unrelenting hardness over and over. In your head, a rhythmic, tribal tattoo that made you think of ancient fires and curved statues took hold and you rose and fell against Giles on the beats vibrating through your brain. He sensed it too, alternating his stroke, slowing down and speeding up in time with the thrumming pulse only the pair of you could hear. "I want you to cum for me. Do you understand? Tell me you understand." "Yes! Yes! I'm so close, Ripper! So close!" "Good. That's very good." Tingling now, your muscles tensed, ready for the release Rupert would provide. You flung yourself onto his swollen sex without thought or reason, merely searching for the pleasure he had promised. His thumb, so thick, so clever, pressed against your sensitive clit and your world imploded. Rupert felt it. The moment your body and his melded together was forceful. It tore his pleasure from his loins in grunting gasps as he experienced your ecstacy at his hands. Limp and listless, you draped your half nude body over his, dazed and drained. Who knew screwing the librarian would feel this good? In your post coital haze you started to laugh. Giles, his hands roaming over the sweat soaked skin of your back, heard your chuckles and joined in. It was another release, of sorts, and you found it almost as intimate as the act you had just committed. Folding your hands under your chin, flashing Rupert a wide smile, "Ripper, huh?" Sliding his glasses back into place and carding a hand through his hair, Giles grinned, "Oh, uh… yes. Ripper. My nickname in London." Toying with the collar of his shirt, "I'd love to hear about London sometime… Ripper." At the sound of that name in your voice, Rupert flexed inside of you, "Call me that again and you'll miss last period." Gasping against him, nodding weakly, "Hmm… promise?" That made him smile broadly as he handed you back your sweater, "We can't have a repeat of last week, can we?" "It wasn’t my fault you didn't hear the bell ring, Mr. Giles!" Sitting up, you fastened your bra and shrugged into your sweater before asking, "Did you have to destroy my undies?" "I'm afraid I did. Although I told you to remove anything dear, didn't I?" "What am I gonna do for the next hour, Giles?" Pushing his glasses up, "I would advise you not to bend over." Swatting at him playfully, you used one of the sturdier shelves to stand, adjusting your skirt and fluffing your hair. Looking around at the absolute mess created by falling books, embarrassed, you asked, "Can I help clean this up?" "No, I don't think that'll be necessary. After all, Willow will be in-" "Along with Buffy and Xander and Cordelia. Got it." Standing himself, Giles chuckled as he fastened his trousers and set himself to rights, "Precisely. Now-" he bent over to retrieve a slim volume, "- The book you asked about. Fertility iconography in Meso-American subcultures." "Thanks. Ya know, I always enjoy coming to the library. I'm surprised more people don't." Walking with you, his hand on your lower back, nuzzling into your neck, "I enjoy you cumming in the library." It was on the tip of your tongue to say something fresh when the overly loud bell clanged. Lifting up on tiptoes you pressed a kiss to the goose egg over Giles' eye, saying, "I hope that makes it feel better!" Snagging you into a tight hug, Giles stared into your eyes before kissing you deeply, "That. That makes it feel better." And then the library door swung wide on the four students who called the library a second home, "Um… are my eyes deceiving me or is Giles sporting a black eye? I was only gone for an hour, big guy, what happened?" "If you must know, Xander, a shelf collapsed in the back. We were fortunate enough not to be badly hurt but, there were some bumps and bruises." "A shelf! Oh no… which one?!" Giles turned to Willow solemnly, "I'm afraid all the Grollier’s… and most of Crentist." "On it. Come on Xander. You can help me sort!" "Aw, gee. That sounds like fun." As the pair trotted off, you turned to Giles, whispering low, "Dinner? My place? You can tell me about London, your childhood and why you love tweed." Eyeing Buffy, who was distracted and a distraught, Giles answered, "Tonight? Um…" "He'd love to! Say 9 o'clock? And, he'll bring the wine."

Spinning on your heel, surprised that Buffy was your champion, you grinned, "Great! Awesome! I will see you then."

As you left you heard the bubbly blonde doling out instructions, "No Giles. You can't wear that outfit to dinner! You need to look nice. Nicer than you do now. Also, why is there so much dust in your hair?" If Giles answered you didn’t hear it over your big yawn. You had a lot to do between now and 9 o’clock. Rupert Giles was coming over for dinner and you could hardly wait.

------ Fin ------- I’m tagging my minxes, even though this is specifically NOT a Loki story. I do want you guys to send me stories that might fall under the “Hot Characters” banner though! Minxes: @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @iamverity @mizfit2 @sammy-jo1977 @wolfsmom1 @jessiejunebug @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @procrastinatinglikeabitch @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @alexakeyloveloki @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @jenjen8675309 @that-one-person @roguewraith @toomanystoriessolittletime @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote

#giles #rupert giles #rupert giles x you #giles x you #hot characters you forgot about #rupert giles smut #giles smut #buffy fanfiction

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

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Shared Minds and Shared Souls (5/?)

Pairing: Spike x Female!Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, depression, trauma, PTSD, some fluff

Word Count: 2.3k

Part Summary: After the hospital with Glory, Y/N falls into despair, unsure of whether or not the world around is real or Glory’s doing. Days go by and Spike grows frustrated as the Scooby Gang is lost on how to fix Y/N. So, he takes matters into his hands, doing everything in his power to bring her.

Masterlist

"Bloody fix her!" I hear Spike yell at the others in the kitchen.

I lay on the couch in the allusion version of the Summers's living room. All I can do is wait. Wait for the most-evil-big-bad to show up and take me away. I wait for this vision to end. Glory is messing with my head. I just know it. I'm still in her memories or worse, she dragged me down to Hell with her.

"We can't, not yet at least," the imaginary Willow explains, sounding defeated.

"We don't know the right spell, but we're not going to stop until we find it!" Tara assures, her tone carries a bit of hope in it.

"What exactly did Y/N see when she entered Glory's mind?" Giles questions. "Perhaps that will help us figure out a solution."

"Did she tell you anything, Spike?" The pretend Buffy inquires, her voice optimistic.

"No!" The vampire shouts again. "You saw her! She won't even look at me, at any of us, and you think she told me everything?!"

"Spike, we're just trying to help..." Willow mumbles, sounding mousey.

“Yeah, since when do you care about Y/N or anyone of us for that matter?” Xander insults.

“I don’t… ” Spike grumbles defensively. Then, he releases a deep sigh of frustration, “okay, look! The sooner Y/N is better, the sooner she can help with destroying Glory. Let’s pick up the pace here!”

There's a prolonged pause and the allusion of Dawnie appears entering the room from the kitchen. She approaches me cautiously. Starring blankly ahead at the distant wall, the allusion of Dawn kneels beside me on the floor.

"Hi Y/N," she mumbles, fiddling with the edge of her shirt nervously. "Do... Do you need anything? A glass of water? Some food? I... I can make anything you like!" She tells me with forced enthusiasm. "Oh, here!" She rises from her spot swiftly and reaches over me.

Startled, I scream and fly up from my laid position. She's going to hurt me! She's a demon! She's going to kill me! She's going to drag me back to that place! All of the fire, the screaming, the pain! The others comes running into the room, the vision of Spike leading them.

"I didn't mean to!" The fake Dawn urgently tells me, running to safety by Buffy. "I was just going to give her blanket!"

The allusion of Buffy comforts her, "I know, you're okay! It's not you're fault. Y/N's just really fragile at the moment. We can't touch her or get too close, otherwise we'll scare her."

Panicked, I shuffle my sight between all of them, waiting for one of them to charge at me. I curl up, bringing my legs close to my chest on the couch. Shaking, I can't find the words to speak. I'm afraid if I do they're retaliate and I'll be send back to the fiery place. The figure disguised as Spike approaches me steadily, his hands up as a sign of peace. I don't believe it, not for a second. He's trying to trick me!

He shushes softly, "it's okay Y/N. I'm not going to hurt you."

I cower away, scooting to the farthest side of the couch from him.

"You can also see people's energy. You can also see into people's minds, right?” He calmly moves closer until he's sat on the coffee table. “I want you to look into mine,” he instructs boldly, holding out his hand to me.

I shake my head rapidly in a panic. No, I can’t do it again, not after what happened! Beside, my magic doesn't work in Hell. No, I saw it before. When the roots were attacking me, nothing worked. He's testing me. He wants an excuse to damn me to Hell.

"I’ll focus only on the good memories! You told me that I can control what you see, right? If I remember that it’s all in my head and try hard enough! Let me prove to you that I’m really me and I’m not a threat to you!" The spirit disguised as Spike reasons. "Come on, use your powers, Love. Show yourself that I won't hurt you," he says in almost a plea.

I hesitate, afraid of the repercussion if I do as he asks. He could show me more traumatizing images. I want to believe he's the real, do more than anything! If it were really him, it would mean I'm safe and truly out of Glory's nightmare.

Buffy quietly steps forward to protest the idea. “Spike, I don’t think-”

“Just let her try for Christ’s sake!” He snaps, standing up to face everyone. Clearly, he’s hit his boiling point with all the bickering. “You all bloody act like she’s a goddamn porcelain baby and you’re afraid of dropping her. She’s the most powerful whatever-the-hell she is I’ve seen in my hundred and forty-eight years on this planet! Now, shut up!” He finishes, sitting back down on the table with a dramatic huff.

Calmly, he looks at me and requests again, “try it, Pet. I know you can do it,” he encourages softly.

Slowly, I meet him gaze. It’s the first time since the hospital I’ve look at anyone in the eye. I’ve been afraid that if I look, I’ll see the red eyes that frighten me more than I can bare to say. Instead, I’m meet with the familiar emeralds. They’re fake. They must be fake. They’re a part of the allusion.

“Please…” Spike adds almost inaudibly. He eyes peer at me, filled with what appears to be despair. Reaching out his hand again, he waits for me to take it.

I don’t feel threatening energy radiating from him, at least not directly. Then again, I don’t know how well the demons mask their intentions. My chest rises and plummets as my nerves and mind warn me not to do it. Yet, my gut is telling me to at least try. My heart is telling me to give him, the allusion, a chance.

Steadily I ease my shaky hand out to interlock with his own. Our hands meet and our fingers glides between each other. Gently, Spike rubs his thumb over my hand, doing his best to ease the shaking by squeezing it. He stares into my eyes and gives me a sharp nod of confidence. His features, however, express uncertainty and worry. I feel a surge of energy, the warning before the storm. I blink rapidly as the sensation of falling consumes me. Then, my vision goes black…

I’m sat in my mother’s old parlor on the rug as I read her my newest poem. She rests on the loveseat behind me, petting my head gently. I worry for her. Her health hasn’t been ideal in recent weeks. I read to her, knowing how much it makes her feel better. All I do when I can find a free moment, usually when she’s asleep during the daylight hours, is write more poetry in hopes that it heals her ailments.

“William, my love,” she groans, moving to sit up. She holds out her hand and swiftly I assist her. She mutters a ‘thank you,’ expressing a weak smile.

I peer up at my mother admiringly. I feel the fierce duty to protect her. She’s my whole world, I love no one more than her.

She caress my cheek, “you, my William, are my angel on this Earth. All I want, as my dying wish, is for you to be happy and settled.”

“I am happy, Mother,” I tell her, truly content. “There’s no other woman I need in my life than you.”

She grins, releasing a soft giggle. Oh how I long to hear her laugh. It reminds me of when she was healthy and thriving. Gently, she guides me to rest my head in her laps as I did when I was a child. Steadily, she brushes her fingers through my hair comfortingly. “Early one morning…” She starts to sing her lullaby to me. It’s our song. She’s been singing it to me since infancy. It’s brings me unparalleled peace. I adore her voice. I adore her. There’s no one else in the world I need but her.

With a jolt, like bringing dragged out to see by a strong wave, I’m back in the Summers’s living room. I gasp for air as I settle back into my body, my senses returning to me. The energy surge slowly leaving my bloodstream. Everyone’s eyes are on me, waiting for my words or at least a reaction in someway.

Spike looks at me eagerly, a faint bit of hope in his eyes. “Did it work?”

Silently, I slowly move off the couch, standing to my feet. Spike leaps up from his position, causing me to jump a little. He frowns, disappointment returning to his face. Wrapping my arms around my body safely, I turn and walk out of the room. As I head up the stairs, discussion erupts in the living room.

“What does this mean?” Xander questions urgently.

“Well, did it work?” Anya adds.

“Clearly it fucking didn’t!” Spike barks, followed by a thud and the sound of the coffee table dragging across the hardwood floor with a screech.

“Spike!” Buffy shouts, “that’s not going to help Y/N!”

“Screw this,” he curses, storming around downstairs. “I’m out of here! You lot aren’t going to do anything to help her! I’m going to find a way myself!” I hear the front door slam shut moments after.

_______________________

Days later and I continue to lay in my bed as I have since fake Spike’s attempted to fix me. Alone and silently, I wait for the black smoke-like figures to come haunt me. Sleep is nonexistent because every time I try all I see are those red eyes starring back at me. They wish to drain me cold and consume my soul. The allusions of Buffy, Joyce, and Dawn take turns checking on me. Joyce worries and Buffy tries to get me to eat. Dawnie begs for me to return to normal. What is normal? I can’t remember what I was like before. There’s nothing waiting for me but the Hell I saw. I’m not okay. I’m slipping into an abyss of darkness.

As night falls, the door to my room creaks open behind me, revealing a strip of light from the hall. Distant voices from downstairs linger in and I see someone cross in front of the light as they enter the room. I remain emotionless on my bed, facing the opposite wall. As a figure appears in my peripheral vision, I focus ahead blankly.

“Hello there, Love,” Spike whispers, squatting at my bedside.

I don’t react to his presence physically. Inside, I’m reaching out to him. I’m in a prison made up by my own mind.

Spike hasn’t seen me since the day after the hospital. When I left the living room and he stormed out, he never came back to be exact. Fake Buffy told me in passing while she was bringing me food that he went away for a few days. I didn’t ask, she just told me. She went by his crypt after he hadn’t come around, he wasn’t there. He left a note saying he’d be back.

“I won’t touch you, promise! Yo don’t have to worry about that,” he assures with a frown. “They say you haven’t eaten since…” he shakes his head, refusing to speak of that faithful day. “You need to eat Y/N. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

He worries, they all worry. What will worrying get them? Why don’t they just put me out of my misery? When will this vision end?!

“Y/N!” He whispers my name harshly, not to alert the others downstairs. “Come on, Love, I know you’re in there somewhere! I don’t know exactly what Glory did to you or what you saw, but you have to fight this! It was another vision! It was only in your head! Dawnie, Buffy, Joyce, they need you…. I need you….” He barely says the last part, looking down at his hands.

I process his words, but everything is delayed. Time has been off since I awoke in the hospital or at least changed visions. In my head, time moves slower and the agony is more intense. I’ve missed Spike more than I care to admit, even if he’s not really here with me and it’s all in my head. I welcome the allusion.

Spike rises from his position with a sigh upon receiving no sort of reaction from me. “I heard of a guru in India who’s apparently dealt with this sort of things before while I was looking for help amongst the covens in New Orleans. I only came back to see if you’ve improved at all...” He moves to step away toward the door. “I’ll check back in before I leave for India,” he informs over his shoulder.

No, no he can’t leave me, not again! Please, don’t leave me. On impulse, I break free of my mental prison and grab Spike’s wrist. His head whips around as his attention lands on my hand. His eyes meet mine wide-eyed with amazement.

“Stay,” I struggle to speak for the first time in nearly over a week.

Spike places his hand over mine. He lowers to my level, knelling beside my bed. A bright smile of glee spreads across his face as relief relishes in his emerald eyes. He cautiously reaches up, cupping my face and I don’t cower away. I ponder the feeling of his touch, leaning into his palm. It makes me feel more alive than I have in days. When I don’t flinch away, he releases a soft chuckle of joy. Before we have the chance to talk, my vision goes black.

____________________________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream

@hexmancia

#spike #btvs #fanfic #spike x reader #dawn summers #buffy #buffy summers #buffy s5 #spike fanfic #spuffy #spike x buffy #btvs imgaine #btvs fanfic #william the bloody #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagine

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beauenfer · 3 years

Text

Confessions We Won’t Admit | pt. 1

: *✧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫: @beauenfer

: *✧𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4,581

:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*: .: ⋆*･ﾟ: ﾟ .: ⋆* .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

•‎𐩐 ༘ ✦* FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

•‎𐩐 ༘ ✦* PAIRING: Xander Harris x chase!Reader

•‎𐩐 ༘ ✦* WARNING: language, bitchy reader, some meanie behavior from Xander

•‎𐩐 ༘ ✦* SUMMARY: Reader is Cordelias sister, or according to Xander, Satans spawn. They don’t get along (well, most days), but all it takes is for some alone time in a sewer and an almost kiss for them to figure out why

:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*: .: ⋆*･ﾟ: ﾟ .: ⋆* .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

“XANDER?” THE BOY IN QUESTION turned his head towards you with a curious hum in response, being misled by the sweet smile on your face. You had your arms crossed against your chest, your hair neatly held back with a bulky headband so Xander could see your face clearly. You cocked your head at him, letting out a delighted chuckling noise to further confuse the boy.

“Can you shut up? Unlike you, some people like to listen.” Your smile fell from your face into your standard pouty frown, your glossed lips twisting into a grimace that contrasted the genetic beauty of it. You were a Chase, after all. Your eyelids, shaded with a faint green to match your dress, blinked at him when he just continued to stare at you, as well as made your eyes pop.

“Even I felt that burn.” Cordelia, with her hands crossed over her knee, turned to her ex with a deadpan expression, raising her brows at him in a knowing look. You smirked slightly at that, seeing the way he opened and closed his mouth to form a response. To be truthful, you were trying to listen to Giles and his demon lecture, but Willow and Xander’s irreverent giggling was distracting you from it. Plus, you took any excuse you could to push Xander’s buttons, It was too easy.

“Oh please, like you can hear anything with that antenna on your head.” He pointed at you with a fervor, talking about the forest green headband on your head that matched your outfit. Your hands flew up to the accessory, offended. You glared at the brown-haired boy, clutching the headband in your hands.

“Antenna!? This is Burberry I’ll have you know, but of course you’ve never heard of it. You’re not financially able to get one!” You exclaimed with a sneer, jerking your head at him as you watched his eyes widen in response. Willow sat between you and him with a scared expression, literally in the middle of an argument. Giles just stood by the table with an open book in his hand, turned to the page he had been reading off of, looking at the table in annoyance.

“Well, (y/n), why would I get one!? I’m a man!” He cried, pointing at himself as he leaned over Willow to get in your face, the smell of his cologne (which you were shocked he even wore) distracting you for a second before you did the same, your lip curled in anger.

“A man? Now I know why everyone thinks you’re so funny!” You heard a ringing in your ears and felt your cheeks start to heat up on their own accord, an anger only Xander could bring out in you bubbling in your chest. You couldn't focus on anything but Xander and that smell that seemed to smother you; the smell of bergamot oranges and cedarwood. You crinkle your nose as you take another whiff; intoxicated.

He flared his nostrils, the both of you hovering over Willow to meet in the middle, equally irritated with the other.

“Oh! Oh, I’ve had it up to here, Missy!” He raised his hand above his head with crazed brown eyes, and you just scoffed at him, getting closer until you could see the stubble on his neck and above his lip. You flickered your eyes back up to his eyes once you caught yourself, giving him a glare.

“Oh really? Well, I could say the same for you, Missy!” You mocked, his eye twitching at you. Willow looked between the both of you with a panicked expression, leaning back in her chair as she watched the exchange. She winced at your statement, but looked at Xander with furrowed brows. She didn’t understand why you guys were arguing so much, she was observan like that. She noticed the glares, the frowns, the scoffs, the arguing that seemed to increase when Xander and Cordelia broke up. Honestly, she was worried. Because Xander and Cordelia used to argue like this, over the smallest things… before they dated.

“Uh, guys?” Willow interrupted the stare down with a small voice, hesitant to put herself in the situation. She didn’t want anyone to snap on her.

“What?” You and Xander snapped your heads over to the redhead, too engrossed in the tension that seemed to surround you both like a bubble. It was always there, lurking above your heads like a storm cloud ready to explode.

Willow flinched, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“Erm, air? I kind of… need it.” She sighed, giving you both a nervous smile. You frowned, giving Xander a glance as you realized how little space there was between the pair of you.

“Oh, right. Sorry…” You mumbled, leaning back in your seat and clearing your throat as everyone stared at you. Xander let out a laugh to clear the tension, shooting back in his seat and swallowing down a lump in his throat. He glanced at you a moment after you did him, suddenly jolting in his seat and looking at Giles with a frazzled expression.

“So, Giles, a demon sacrifice? Let’s talk about that. Please, god, let’s talk about that.” He stammered, wringing his hands together with a nervous giggle. You nodded your head, crossing your legs and looking up at the librarian.

“Yeah, I mean, like, a virgin sacrifice. Because those used to… used to be a thing.” You coughed, your hands intertwined together on the table as you leaned away from Xander to appear unbothered. You weren’t having anyone fooled.

Giles looked between the both of you with an annoyed, but curious expression, holding his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, yes, right. And please, d-don’t interrupt. This-this information could be proven futile on your patrol tonight.”Giles mumbled, flipping a page and wagging his finger at the group.

“Oh right, because Buffy decided to ditch us to go to Los Angeles and leave us with the slaying. Isn’t this her job?” Cordelia furrowed her brows at Giles, who just threw his head back to look up at the ceiling.

“Oh lord…”

“Uh, Cordelia, Buffy left to go see her father.” Xander looked at her like it was obvious, speaking slowly. You didn’t want to look at him for too long, so you just cracked a small smile at your sister and looked at her confused expression.

“Your point?” She said, waving her hand at him.

“Cordy, Buffy didn’t ditch us. She just went away for the weekend. She’ll be back on Monday.Besides, I think we’ve been doing pretty well given the circumstances. We’ve been kicking some vampire ass.” Willow gave the group a cheesy grin, bouncing in her seat. You let out a small laugh, knowing this little vigilante group of humans has most definitely not been kicking vampire ass.

“Will, while I appreciate the enthusiasm, you’re living in a fantasy world. Dare I bring up last night when a vampire snuck up on me and almost had his dinner?” Xander recounted, putting an arm around Willow’s shoulder. You didn’t miss the action, but refused to look too much into it. Willow frowned, slumping her shoulders.

“Yeah, you’re right. We suck.” Willow pouted, putting her arms in her lap.

“ Oh, I remember. I was the one who saved you.” You smirked, remembering when you staked the vampire that pinned Xander to the side of a crypt, his teeth near Xander’s jugular.

“That is so not the point. But since we’re on the subject, remember when your heel got stuck in the mud and you fell? Huh, I bet you don’t remember that one, do you? See, it’s no fun when people bring up embarrassing moments, is it?” He waved a finger at you, making you give him a mean look for bringing it up. You took three showers last night trying to wash the mud out of your matted hair, clumps of dirt splattering onto the tile. But worst of all, you had lost a heel last night. And that part of you will never be recovered.

“You wore heels… to a cemetery?” Willow raised a brow at you, but you didn’t have an explanation. You just shrugged, moving past the matter.

“But see, this is my point. Buffy’s in Los Angeles having the time of her life while we’re stuck here getting our asses handed to us every night.” Cordelia gestured around to everybody, making you look down at the wood grain of the table. You slumped, a part of you agreeing with her, but you also knew Cordelia could be insensitive at times. You loved her, she was your sister, but she wasn’t always the most understanding unless it benefitted herself.

“Now you know how Buffy feels every night of her life.” Xander gave Cordelia a smile, that playful atmosphere shifting into something more serious. You quickly looked at Giles for a distraction so the table of students could move on from the subject. Your pleading eyes met his, and he quickly jumped into gear.

“Oh, right, well, erm. I know it’s been discouraging, but I have faith in you lot. Somehow, you never cease to surprise me. Now, back to tonight's patrol. I have been given word that tonight is no ordinary night. Which means you guys need to be careful. There’s been word circulating that the demon, Akristos, will be risen tonight. Now, now, this does not mean it will happen, just be on the lookout for anything suspicious. If I hear anything more on the matter I’ll tell you all immediately. Are there any questions?” At some point Giles had put the book down and now had his hands in his pockets, looking at the group with raised eyebrows. Xander raised his hand with a goofy smile, wiggling in his seat. Giles looked him over, then turned elsewhere.

“Great. I will see you all tomorrow. And, again, please be careful and extra cautious. This may very well be the most important night of your young lives and there is a high possibility one of you will die..” Giles took a pause, his eyes looking Xander over distastefully. “Probably Xander.” Giles walked off to his office, unknowingly casting a feeling of dread to run through you. As casual as Giles seemed to be on the matter, you were worried sick. The four of you could barely handle a vampire on your own, how could you face up against a powerful demon? You swallowed down a sour taste in your mouth. You needed Buffy.

“Is it just me or was Giles being sarcastic?” Cordelia voiced once Giles’ office door slammed shut. You looked at her to try and remain unbothered, that sick feeling in your stomach making you feel a little nauseous.

“Giles was definitely being sarcastic.” You sighed, getting out of your seat and picking up your purse. Willow nodded her head, putting her bookbag on.

“I think he learned it from us.” She smiled, adjusting the straps. Still, the words echoed around in your head, a frown forming on your face. You always had shaky hands when’d you walk in the cemetery, especially at night. But unlike Xander, you were able to keep it to yourself. You used to be one of the most popular girls in the school, you were good when it came to hiding your emotions. It wasn’t that hard, everyone already thought you were a bitch so might as well play the part.

“I, personally, cannot wait. I already planned me and (y/n)’s outfits.” Cordelia picked up the books in her hands and held them to her chest, giving you a look as she sashayed away, her skirt swaying behind her. Xander stared after her with a shake of his head.

“Can you believe I used to date that woman?” He looked down at Willow, his hands holding the strap of his bag that crossed over his chest.

“Not at all.” Willow said, giving him a final look before heading towards the doors. Xander did a double take, running after her.

“Hey, what is that supposed to mean?!” As the double doors swung behind the duo, you stared after them with an unfamiliar longing in your chest. You’d been feeling it these last few weeks but you didn’t know why. All you knew was that you were dreading tonight and whatever mystical demon that may or may not be arisen.

You flicked your hair back behind your shoulder, taking a few steps towards the door as the sharp pang of the dismissal bell rang through the intercom.

You almost jumped when a head popped into the room, the stream of students filling the halls.

“Hey, you coming to fifth period or what? Dylan Carter said Mr.Henderson was wearing his toupee today.” Xander gave you a large grin that you couldn’t help but look at, and you let a small smile slip too as the thoughts of what’s to come later tonight got pushed to the back of your mind. You shook your head, walking a little quicker to join him.

“Of course that’s all you’re worried about. Nevermind you're failing the class.” You gave him a look as you joined him in the hall, rolling your eyes.

“Wait, you’re telling me you do the work? How could you when his hair is flying all over the place? If you ask me it’s not the vampires you needa worry about. It’s that creep. Hey, we should just slay him!” Xander theatrically went on a rant that had you laughing as you two walked down the crowded hall, another bipolar episode you two shared. One minute you’re fighting, the next you and Xander are walking to class together. You laughed again at something else he said, instinctively putting a hand on his shoulder.

He wasn’t blind to it, looking down at your manicured hand that touched his bicep. It might’ve been over a t-shirt and flannel but it made him jumpy anyways. He rubbed the back of his neck and nervously glanced at you, paying attention to the way your eyes crinkle when you laughed and the way your makeup matched your green dress and cardigan. He quickly went back to telling his story so you didn’t get suspicious, hyperware of your hand on him.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Willow watched from down the hall as one of her friends mindlessly spoke to her, a frown on her face as watched her best friend flirt with one of the sisters in the I Hate The Chase Sisters Club.

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“Wait, did you guys really wear matching outfits? That’s completely insane, you realize that right?” Xander told you and Cordelia as you met him at the gate entrance, the chirping of crickets loud in your ears. You carried a stake in your hands and an axe tucked into the waistband of your pants. You weren’t going to come unprepared to a demons awakening that may or may not happen.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over the brown long sleeve you had on. The leather was heavy on your form but it was worth it. You and your sister looked bad ass.

“You’re just mad she didn’t do it with you.” You jutted your chin out, crossing your arm with Cordelia’s.

He waved his fingers around, looking at you like you were stupid.

“Dear god, let me tell you how wrong you are.” He narrowed his eyes, eyes that seemed darker in the night.

“Um, where’s Willow? She said she’d be here already.” Cordelia asked, looking at Xander with furrowed brows. You looked at him too, asking yourself the same question when you noticed the redhead was nowhere to be seen. As your eyes scanned the cemetery in front of you, a thin veil of fog surrounding the grounds, you couldn’t help but feel you were entering your own doom. You swallowed, your mouth feeling like cotton as you clutched the stake tighter in your hand.

“To hell if I know. You would expect her to be punctual. She’s Willow, for Christ’s sake.” Xander stated, sucking his teeth as he turned towards the road to see if she would miraculously appear. You sighed as a cold chill ran through you, about to say something before a voice piped up from behind you.

“Hey, guys. Sorry I’m late. I got stuck doing dishes.” Willow gave us a small smile, running up to the group with a cross necklace jangling around her throat. You made an amused face, you and Cordelia walking into the cemetery once the group was reunited.

“Really, Will? Dishes? Do you not understand the world needs saving?” Xander reprimanded, but only jokingly as the pair followed after you and Cordelia. You two carried on your own conversation as the two in the back made their own. It might’ve been unwise to do so, especially when there was a 50/50 chance you’d stumble on a demon parade.You tried not to think about that as you and Cordelia talked.

“Oh my god, and did you see Melanie’s hair? I mean, who does she think she is? Madonna?” Cordelia referred to Melanie Harp, one of the girls who used to follow you and Cordelia around like puppies. Melanie dyed her hair last week into platinum curls once Harmony took over the clique, effectively ruining the soft brown hair she used to have. You agreed, laughing as quietly as you could.

“Oh my gosh, right! And you know she only did that because Harmony has blonde hair.” You rolled your eyes, the grass crunching beneath your boots, the same ones Cordelia had on. It was Saturday night, a night you should’ve been at The Bronze shacking up with college boys. But lately, boys just didn’t interest you anymore. You barely glanced at boys in the mall, the boys Cordelia hooked you up with didn’t interest you anymore, and you’ve been surprisingly by yourself the last month. I mean, a Chase daughter actually focusing on school and not boys? Okay, that’s a stretch. You just found it odd that you weren’t chasing after male attention like you usually did. You got pulled out of your head whenever Cordelia spoke, a gentle hand touching your elbow.

“Are you okay? You’re being weird.” She noticed, furrowing her finley plucked eyebrows at you in question. You looked into her brown eyes and saw an emotion Cordelia Chase rarely showed. Worry, concern. But she wasn’t going to be outright about it.

You gave her a little shove, bumping your shoulder with hers. You smiled, hoping to relieve her.

“I’m fine, Cordy. Are you? I mean, you're still friends with your ex-boyfriend. That’s gotta be weird.” You gave her a knowing look, but she just scoffed, looking at you like you were ridiculous.

“Oh please, me and Xander? There’s nothing there anymore, trust me. I would never stoop that low again. Although, I have noticed you and him, don’t think I haven’t.” She put her hands in your pockets and raised her eyebrows at you, she wasn’t looking particularly supportive of the idea. And that’s all it was, an idea, a silly notion, an absurdity. You would never go for Xander. Him? No, no, no. You let out a disgruntled noise, your mouth twisting in disgust. You gave her a real shove this time.

“Oh my god, why would you even suggest the idea of that? Ew, no, never in a million years. Light years, even. Infinity years.” You made gestures with your hand to elaborate your point, but it didn’t seem she believed you with the way she raised a brow.

“Yeah, well, I said the same thing and next thing I know we’re making out in the supply closet.” She shrugged, remembering the year before when Xander and her would run off to the makeout closet during class. She didn’t miss those times. You made another noise of disgust at the image that popped in your head.

“Ew, TMI.” You groaned, putting a hand in her face.

“I’m serious. Don’t get yourself into something you don’t want to, because I’m telling you right now Xander has got a big fat crush on you. Shocking, I know. He just has a thing for us Chase girls. I mean what is it about us that gets us all this male attention?” You stopped listening to your sister as she considered what makes us so attractive, looking at the ground with wide-eyes. Xander has a crush on you? You didn’t believe it. Cordelia was an expert when it came to men, but she's also an expert in misinterpreting things. Xander was just your friend, but also the guy you hated most of the time. Besides, you knew for a fact he had a crush on Buffy, with the way he stared at her in class and held her textbooks and hated Angel. You took a big breath in to calm yourself, a fuzzy feeling fluttering in your stomach. While you considered why he wouldn’t like you, your mind slipped up and said, what if he did? Would it be so bad?

In that moment, when your brain said a relationship with Xander wouldn’t be such a bad idea, you knew you were fucked.

:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*: .: ⋆*･ﾟ: ﾟ .: ⋆* .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Half an hour went by with silence and stealth, featuring the occasional laugh, with nothing showing up around the cemetery. Nobody saw demons, robes, or sacrificial virgins anywhere. Sometimes, Xander would yelp at a grasshopper or a bird, and everyone would pull their stakes up ready to fight only to see nothing. Sure, those moments were funny, but you couldn't be bothered, what with your sister's accusations still going through your mind.

You had been quiet unless directly spoken to, a pit of nerves sitting heavy in your stomach. You were uncomfortable; your jacket was making you hot, your shoes cramped your toes, and the handle of the ax was digging into your lower back. Oh, and the fact you couldn’t look at Xander without seeing Cordelia, which makes you think about Xander. On top of that, you felt that if you looked at him he would hear the thoughts going through your head, or the anxious beating of your heart. You believed that all it took was for one look for Xander to strip you down layer by layer and everything you’ve been thinking will be exposed. And on top of that, the longer you stayed in the dark cemetery with the rustle of bushes and the haunting croaks of birds the more your nerves acted up. You had come here confident, but you’re going to leave a muddled mess.

This was all Cordelia’s fault. If she had just not said anyth-

“Hey, guys, over here.” Xander hurried to hide behind a crypt, waving his hand to signal to you. You looked up, and across an empty patch of grass, right next to a neighboring crypt, could robed figures be seen.

Your eyes widened, Cordelia grabbing your wrist and bringing you both over behind Xander. Cordelia was behind Xander, you behind Cordelia, and Willow behind you. Each trying to breath and talk as quietly as possible.

“What do you see?” Cordelia murmured, leaning up to Xander’s ear. He held up a finger, eyes focused on the group of demons. You looked behind you at Willow, who was clutching onto your jacket with a white-knuckled grip of fear.

“Do you mind, Rosenberg?” You raised a brow, her shaky hands releasing her grip with an squealed out sorry.

“Hey, is it wrong that I’m a little excited but also a little scared for my life?” She murmured, giving you an unsure look as she put her hands on your shoulders. You thought about it, nodding your head.

“I think it's a little weird because we can die, but hey, to each their own.” You shrugged, pinning yourself to the wall before Xander whipped around with a scared expression. The group of you moved back a little so you’re out of earshot, looking at Xander with curious expressions.

“What’d you see?” Willow whispered, making the boy snap his head towards her with a petrified expression. You furrowed your eyebrows at the sight. That couldn’t be good.

“I saw a weird, veiny thing! To give you a better image… a penis with horns.” Xander explained, making the three of you cringe.

“So is that the demon that Giles said wasn’t going to be summoned tonight? Because I wasn’t prepared for this. Oh god, oh god, we’re going to die. (y/n), we’re going to die and I’ll never get to see Richard again.” Cordelia shook her head, breathing heavily with the humid air and fear coursing through her veins. She went into full panic mode, leaning back against the crypt and sliding down to the grass melodramatically. You nodded your head, giving her a pout as you agreed with the statement, sliding down next to her.

“Xander, I think we lost them.” Willow frowned down at the two of you, rocking in the dirt as the thoughts of death consumed you. Your measly axe was no match for a big demon, and they were big from the glance you had to them.

“So, Willow, what’s the plan? Come on, use that gifted brain of yours and think! Think, damnit!” Xander spoke quickly, looking at Willow hopefully. You looked up at the redhead too, knowing she always came through in situations like this.

“Plan? I-I don’t have a plan. This is too much pressure, Xander, I don’t know what to do!” Willow panicked, stumbling over her words and looking at Xander frantically.

Xander went and slid down next to you, the doom settling in.

“Oh, god. Oh, god, I’m gonna die only having had sex with Cordelia.” Xander frowned, looking at the ground with a glazed over look. You side-eyed him, rolling your eyes. Cordelia scoffed, but said nothing else.

“Well, Xander, was the demon fully, you know, arisen?” Willow looked down at him, the distant sound of chanting entering your ears. It was scratchy, deep, and some foreign demon language you obviously didn’t know. You could barely speak english right, much less whatever the hell that was. You assumed they were reciting an ancient text, as all spells go.

“Not as far as I could see, why?” Xander mumbled, a little out of it as his head lolled back and forth when he talked to her.

“Oh, I haven’t made it that far, yet.” Willow cringed, seeing Xander’s expression. He threw his hands up, while you sat next to him trying to get your thoughts together. You couldn’t possibly attack them. There were too many, and they were powerful, if their broad backs and tall stature were anything to go by. You looked across the field at the other crypt, eyeing the statuesque angels standing on either side of the entrance.

“Wait, guys, you see that other crypt over there?” You whispered, pointing towards the gray construction.

“Yes, (y/n), but we need to think of a plan, not go sight-seeing.” Xander scoffed, looking at Willow in bewilderment. Willow crouched down, slapping his shoulder.

“She’s saying the plan, dumbass. What are you thinkin’, (y/n)?” Willow looked at you with a softer expression, the aimless mumblings of Cordelia still in your right ear. You took a hot breath in to calm yourself, then looked back at Willow.

All you could do was hope it worked.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ part two

omg, I didn’t know there was a text limit so I made this big ass one shot that’s gonna have to turn into a two shot. hmmmmm.

so that’s why the ending is SHIT. I had to cut it off so it made somewhat sense. ugh. argh.

and to whoever requested it, I should have part two up soon. Thank you for requesting. Gave me something to do ♥️ 💜 ♥️ 💜

#btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #xander harris fanfic #xander harris x reader #Xander Harris imagine #Alexander Harris #Xander Harris

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ifeveristoday · 3 years

Text

I got out my DVDs for this rewatch (that’s not actually a big deal. I only have season 3 on DVD. 😂) so let’s get to it.

I forgot they did a cold open for this episode!

I know it’s for ambiance but man does Angel have a lot of candles displayed. Probably too ‘mainstream’ for his taste but the thought of Angel furtively going to a Bath and Bodyworks in the mall during their semi-annual sale and just buying out their whole candle selection gives me the purest joy. Let’s be real though, Angel would shop at some boutique/hole in the wall owned by a wizened old character with a twinkle in their eye and everything marked up 20%. Or it would be a steel and glass monstrosity with a collection labeled Candles for Men. That’s the range.

Back to the enormous fire hazard that this scene is -

Wait. Does fire burn on stone?

Shout out to the stunt doubles.

I think that Angel getting food for Buffy for a sort of alfresco picnic while training is really sweet, actually. Also, can't miss the opportunity for both carbs and phallic symbolism ala bread.

Everyone is so embarrassingly horny in this moment. I'd say get a room except they're in a whole giant mansion.

Always remember the bread! What did Angel do with the food after Buffy fled? Fed the no-doubt cursed pigeons that live in Sunnydale.

Thanks for the workout (insert stereotypical dirty laugh).

Oh yes, the awkward 'let's talk about your birthday without mentioning the last birthday you had at all because it's horrifying' chitchat. God, the anxiety Angel is radiating here and Buffy trying to smooth it over. You can't unfrost that trauma cake!

Angel, you utter dork. You're lucky Buffy finds you pretty. Very powerful himbo energy here. And it's nice to see some light-hearted flirting/banter between them.

How do you know when someone's aura's dirty? Buffy is only asking the reasonable questions everyone has.

Do you hear yourself, Giles. "I'm aware of your distaste in studying vibratory stones..." I can't imagine what that section of the Slayer handbook looks like. Are there pull-out charts?

Faith being conveniently gone for this episode. Boo, hiss.

That workout really did a number on Buffy. I see what you're doing with those crystals.

One of the sad parts of rewatching Buffy is that you just don't have the first time discovery feels of watching it - that magic is gone, but even though I know why Buffy's wobbling in her fight, the reveal is still upsetting. Thinking about how in Season 5, when she does get staked, just as she's questioning her powers - and here, where she's losing them.

Also, obvious observation is obvious - the sexual violence imagery is really, really blatant here - with the vampire crouched over her with the stake aimed toward her heart, just as she playfully staked Angel earlier in a more romantically set scene.

AND THEN THE THEME KICKS IN. Like, damn! Three minutes and you can pretty much tell what the plot is going to be - Buffy and Angel's UST is getting out of hand, Buffy's lone Rangering it, and something is wrong with her. And it's her birthday.

And Buffy's resourcefulness saves the day.

Perhaps you shouldn't be throwing knives in the library, Buffy.

Did they do a geography lesson on Cuernavaca? It's also just fun to say. Like La Cienega. Brief moment to ponder yet again about a show set in Southern California, actually shot in Southern California, with the huge Latine population we have and the Spanish-influenced names and culture and - getting sidetracked by all this casual 90s racism.

"We do it every year for my birthday," except your seventeenth, presumably because of the murderous ex-boyfriend stalking the town you live in and all your loved ones. [Or, he did take her and it was not shown on screen!] Sometimes I wonder if the continuity editors just go, you know, I'm going to let this one go for the 'emotion' and not just so years later, a Virgo with a deep-seated need to obsess over throwaway details will go into a thought spiral to make it make sense.

I think this is also the last time Hank Summers was spoken of with any real affection because then he was Deadbeat Dad for the remainder of the show. Oh, look. The Scoobies are surprised about the traditional birthday ice show that I'm going to nitpick about forever.

Oz is so supportive, and then the clunker of a 'deep' line of ice being cool because it's water then it's not. I do like the Whedonesque school of dialogue, but sometimes you gotta reel it back. I remember the dialogue on Dawson's Creek was getting pinged for the teenagers talking like grad students.

Quiet reflection. Oh you poor girl, you have no idea.

Quarterly projections - is a convincing filler phrase for when you don't need to know what the job is, because it's boring but sounds vaguely official. What does Hank actually do? Who cares! He's an asshole.

Sunnydale Arms, because of course, Sunnydale has a broken down abandoned murder hotel.

Quentin Travers. Boo. Hiss.

The scary music is very scary. Also one of the Council flunkies looks like a very young Vincent D'Onofrio.

This scene with them in the library is so bittersweet because Buffy is fishing for Giles's attention as a father figure substitute ("very sophisticated people go!" breaks my heart) and he pointedly is rejecting this for training talk.

Look for the flaw at its center. THE FLAW IS YOU GILES. YOU YOU YOU.

it's just so terrible, this scene because of how methodical and clinical it plays out. And Buffy is just not there, and then Giles smiles like nothing has happened.

Buffy makes it through another night - next day (another reason why this trial is so horrifying is that it takes place over several days - it's not on Buffy's birthday but leading up to it, so the idea of her getting weaker and weaker and unable to fight to make it to 18 in the first place) and it's time for the Cordelia has had enough of toxic masculinity scene!

Also, Willow blithely ignoring a person's feelings and treating Amy as just a rat is played for laughs and cuteness, but yeah...you can't treat people like puppets or rats [law and order sound]

I love Cordelia's coat. And also, while it does suck that she stood him up, he's not entitled to her time or attention and certainly not to threaten her. Go, Cordy! Fight like a girl! Yes! Pummel him into the hallway.

I also love Willow's outfit here because I think the colors are so complementary and warm and it's a cute outfit. Okay, the knit wooly hat is a bit too Blossom-esque, but whatever.

Buffy is tiny, we all know this, but I do think they purposefully dressed her in larger than her size coats in this episode to make her look even more tiny and vulnerable.

Giles is TOO BLASE for this scene also shut your mouth about throwing knives like a girl

"It's an archaic exercise in cruelty." SO WHY DID YOU GO ALONG WITH IT, BRAIN TRUST. (I am going to be very mean to Giles this whole rewatch, deal with it.)

"But I'm the one in the thick of it." No, you're not. You are going to be adjacent to it, at best.

Hey it's that guy!

Okay, in better lighting, flunkie does not look like Vincent D'Onofrio.

It's impossible to pin down one type of Vampire in the Whedonverse, except for the delineation between Grunt Bait Vampires, and Special Guest Star/Master vampires, but Kralik is the only other example of a vampire with mental illness besides Drusilla, yet he's medicated. Makes me wonder how exactly they got Kralik...he was a monster before he was a vampire, but who vamped him? I don't put it past the Watchers to have vampires created for this purpose.

Curse against lawyers!

Xander and Oz bonding over comic books is so fun. I regret they didn't really get closer until after Xander and Willow cheated because Oz was the one male friend Xander had.

They mentioned her birthday! Thinking about Buffy's love of poetry later on, this is a nice little detail, and it *is* a thoughtful, sweet gift. Also those poems: horny. Oh yes, maybe in a restrained way, but Elizabeth Barrett Browning knew what was up.

The Buffy and Angel relationship in season three is full of these starts and stops that I can see why and agree with others about how it's frustrating on a number of levels. They know why they can't be together, but they still try to find a common ground because they want to need the other one. They still have their identities to figure out - Buffy as the slayer and a young adult, Angel as a person, separate from Buffy and being Buffy's ex sort of maybe.

But this conversation in Helpless is genuinely sweet and a glimpse at what a normal couple at the crossroads would talk about - I think I'm also being soft on this because the other Important Male Figure in Buffy's life in this episode lets her down so spectacularly bad, that Angel being supportive and kind in his awkward way is a nice respite. It's good to be away from the angst and the horror that their relationship has had.

And the self-aware puncturing of the Moment between them is something Buffy does very well. "Taken literally, incredibly gross - I was just thinking that too". Look, it's cute and soft and I will allow it.

The horror of this episode (and there are so many) is that we have to watch Buffy become the helpless blonde in a slasher flick who is being chased by the monsters and she can't do anything about it - that she has to be rescued or die. That the real world with men catcalling and bystanders who ignore women's cries of distress is far scarier than the literal demons that inhabit the town - and Buffy brokenly saying she can't just be a person, she can't be helpless like that [like women are, still, today] is a gut punch. It's uncomfortable and unhappy because Buffy is supposed to be the hero, the [sigh] strong female lead who can kick ass and take names, and this episode is all about finding who Buffy is, separate from her super powers. Also an exercise in emotional torture, but must be Tuesday.

The physicality - the weakness that both Buffy and Giles display in this scene is so, so good. The way Buffy's hand trembles toward the needle in the case and the dawning realization of what Giles has done, has chosen to do - and he bloodlessly tells her what the Cruciamentum is.

Her tiny little "Liar."

GOD WHY DIDN'T SHE GET AN EMMY (rhetorical we all know genre tv only matters if it was Game of Rapey Thrones)

"You will be safe now, I promise you." LIAR.

Another puncturing a heavy moment - Cordelia as cavalry - I love it. Cordelia taking the most obvious approach to the situation - 'oh Buffy might have lost her memory, well he's Giles,'

I can't believe they robbed us of a conversation in the car scene with Cordy and Buffy.

Kralik had to have found a polaroid camera and a metallic sharpie for this whole scenario -- OH I KNOW WHO HE REMINDS ME OF. The Night Stalker and any number of serial killers that terrorized SoCal. Is the show being self-aware of the problem with mothers and parents in general?

Probably a glib accident.

I don't have much to say about the part where Buffy hunts Kralik because it's so masterfully done with the atmosphere and music.

Nice of Giles's backbone to enter the chat now.

This is not business. Ooo.

Buffy's "I thought I killed a man" emo overalls!

Like it's shadowy, but there's still enough light to see facial expressions. Lighting guy, I salute you.

Little red riding hood metaphor. Oh, that's so her stunt double.

CREEPY SEXUAL VIOLENCE REARS ITS DEFORMED HEAD AGAIN

Jump stair scare. I remember the first time I saw it, I jolted in the living room.

Serial Killer Shit. Why are vampires such drama queens?

THAT'S RIGHT, BUFFY DID THAT

The ending scene in the library is cathartic in that Buffy gets to stand up for herself finally, and recognizes what Giles gives up by helping her, delayed as it was, also there's the feeling of hate punching Quentin Travers via your eyes.

Still don't think she should have forgiven Giles so easily, but we don't get to see a lot of aftercare for Buffy when she gets hurt, and it is a very tender scene.

The Scoobies are being way too upbeat if they knew about the fact that Giles poisoned Buffy, which is why I'm assuming she told a very abbreviated version of events ending with Buffy killed the bad guy and Giles got fired, oops.

Xander's big strong man comment and then looking immediately to Willow to open the jar and not Oz...

I could watch this episode again with episode commentary from David Fury, but another day.

#a bit later #but here it is #saff rewatches buffy

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winifredsandersonsbitch · 4 years

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“My Babysittee’s a Vampire”

Spike x Reader, BTVS

Warnings: cursing, partial nudity, a little pain? but not necessarily violence. Possible spoilers.

Description: The reader volunteers to watch Spike at Giles’s house while the others do some sluthing, but nothing goes as planned. It turns out that vampires are very hard to babysit.

Spike swore that the chip in his head prevented him from hurting anyone, but you weren’t so sure. Giles decided to keep him chained up in the house for observation and that required someone to actually observe him. You volunteered.

You were still the weakest of the Scoobies, unfortunately (except for maybe Anya, but she got points for being an ex-demon). There wasn’t much you could do except get in the way of the monster fighting. But if you could be helpful by staying in and doing some homework, hey. You weren’t going to complain.

“What, Buffy can’t even be bothered to watch me herself, now that I’m all neutered?”

Spike was in a hell of a mood, seemingly forgetting that he had come to you and your friends for sanctuary. It probably didn’t help that Giles and Xander chained him up in the bathtub.

“She’s busy.” You were unsure of whether or not you were trying to comfort him or just get him off your back. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”

“So I’m just supposed to sit here and stare at the bloody wall all night?”

“Mhmm.”

You were up against the opposite wall, trying—and failing—to get through the sociology chapter your professor had assigned that day. Everyone else in the gang seemed to ignore their homework entirely, except maybe Willow, but you needed a good grade. Your future plans extended outside Sunnydale. But that was only half the trick. You also had to convince Buffy to come with you.

Spike lapsed into silence as you took your notes, the concept finally clicking into place in your head after the third time around. You highlighted and underlined, drawing triangles to help you understand the ideas of hierarchy and filling up your margins with little asides that helped you contextualize. You didn’t even wonder if you should be worried about the vampire’s sudden quiet until his voice broke through your focus.

“Read to me.”

You dropped your pen, startled. He was staring at you intently, like how you imagined a lion might study its prey. Like everything else had faded from view and he was trying to decide whether or not to take his chances on the hunt.

“I-It’s just soc-sociology,” you stuttered, holding up the textbook for him to see. “I don’t think you’ll like it.”

“I like people.” Spike bared his teeth in a grin that you guessed was supposed to be charming or encouraging, but toed past the line to frightening. When you hesitated, he sweetened his voice, practically cooing, “Come on. What harm could it do?”

So you did. He never asked you to stop and explain anything or gave any indication that he didn’t understand, but you interjected your own learnings in anyway. You almost forgot that it was him you were talking to. Willow used to really value school, and she was still the smartest person you knew, but witchcraft was taking over her areas of interest and none of the others cared about this kind of stuff unless you were helping them with their own homework. It was nice to have a rapt audience, even if he was literally being held captive.

“Basically, he’s saying that social environment shapes how we act and react to situations. Like in the Stanford Prison Experiment.” Your eyes darted from the text to Spike, waiting for a nod or something, but he looked as much like a statue as ever. “Good people can be made to do bad things because of the pressure they feel, real or imagined, to follow the rules that have been set in their environment.”

You waited for him to tell you that you had been right before and he was bored, but instead he leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. The chains around his midsection clanked against each other and you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral, even though your heart felt like it might beat out of your chest.

“What about bad people?”

Being around Buffy and the others, around so much supernatural for so many years, had made you into a person who could handle most things with a cool head. It was a required skill. You could freak out about the little things—tests, dating, work—though they seemed to matter less now than ever. But you couldn’t let the supernatural world scare you shitless unless you wanted to shut down completely. Your hands trembled where they grasped your book, but you kept your voice even. You forced your eyes upward to meet Spike’s.

“You tell me.”

——

You couldn’t run away from him, even though you were deeply and truly uncomfortable, so you excused yourself and went to the kitchen for a snack. You knew you shouldn’t leave him alone for too long, chip or not, so you sat down at the table and tried to catch your breath. You were counting down from one hundred when he started shouting about blood.

“It’s unfair,” he said when your frame filled the doorway, arms crossed, “that you get your snack and I don’t get mine.”

At this, his eyes raked down your body. You doubted that the gang would mind much if they came back to find him with a broken nose, but you exercised some hard-won self-control and dug your nails into your palms. Spike was smart and if he was working you up, it was probably for a reason. You treaded back to the kitchen and returned with a mug filled with some B negative that Giles had “borrowed” from the hospital’s blood bank.

“This is the last of the human stuff,” you told him with some satisfaction. “Next you’re drinking pig’s blood.”

You held the mug well away from you, willing your eyes to ignore the splatters on the rim from when you had poured it in. Spike cocked his head.

“Are you going to unchain me, or—?”

“I’ll get a straw.”

When you came back, he was slumped against the inside wall of the porcelain tub. You sat on the edge, held the mug up for him, and turned your head away, enough that you couldn’t see him take his first sip but not enough that he would notice. The sound by itself was almost worse.

“It’s cold.”

“I’m not running a hotel. You’re a hostage.”

“I’m a guest seeking asylum.”

You sucked in a deep breath. “Fine.” You couldn’t bicker with him any more. You needed this to be over.

You warmed it in the microwave, swearing the whole time, and brought it back with both hands wrapped around the mug to keep yourself from throwing the blood in Spike’s face. He smiled as if he knew what you were thinking and relaxed against the tub, tilting up only his chin so that you had to sink to your knees against the tile floor to get an angle that would work.

“I could get used to this,” he mused when he had finished. A few droplets splattered on your hands. You tried not to look at them and began soaping up in the sink.

“Don’t.”

“You know, love, Passions is on in twenty, if your watch is correct.”

You unclasped it from your wrist and wiped it off with a damp tissue. “Forget it.”

“I guess we could always read more from the textbook.” You caught his crafty smirk in the mirror. “You seemed to like that well enough.”

You sighed. “Will it get you off my back?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Fine.”

You crossed to the tub and tried to puzzle out how to lift him without breaking anything. Spike’s hands were bound in front of him by a separate set of chains than his body to make it more difficult for him to escape and give him some limited mobility. His back was flush up against the tub wall, pressed to the porcelain in a way that would make it difficult to pull him up from behind. There was a small amount of space in between his legs, as his feet had been spread to either side of the tap.

“Well?”

“Shut up.”

You stepped into the tub gingerly, easing over the high rim to stand in between Spike’s legs in the space provided. It wasn’t much, and you caught the fabric of his jeans under your foot at first, but you adjusted.

Next you placed your arms on either side of his chest right under his arms.

“Lift with me,” you said, and together you managed to get him to sit on the edge of the tub. “Okay, next—”

He straightened out, trying to stand before you were ready for him, overcompensating so he wouldn’t hit the wall nearest to him and then hitting you with the full force of his weight as he toppled forward.

“Fuck, Spike!”

He was so goddamn heavy. His chest pressed against your face, forcing your back to the wall where the tap caught you in the back of the lower thigh and tore the skin. You couldn’t shove him back unless you wanted him to fall out the back of the tub and onto the floor, possibly cracking his skull in the process. It was tempting, but your reputation as a babysitter would be shredded.

“This isn’t exactly comfortable for me either, you know!”

“Ouch. Ouch. Fuck. Okay, I’m going to push you back slowly. Try to keep your balance.”

But when you moved your leg to keep it from being pressed against the spout, you hit the knob for the cold water, which came pouring down over your heads.

Spike cursed so loudly the neighbors could probably hear. “Turn it off!”

“Stand up! I can’t turn it off with you all over me like this!”

He righted himself too quickly and fell backward back into the floor of the tub, sending his legs sprawling out beneath you. Your feet were knocked out from under you and you fell on top of him heavily, bruising your elbow and knocking your chin against his sternum as the water poured on.

“Fuck,” he whispered, unable to do anything else. It took you both a moment to adjust to the pain and you closed your eyes to your own idiocy.

“Did you hit your head?” you asked finally, reaching out a hand to the platinum blond mop that was now plastered against his skull.

“Turn. The bloody. Water. Off.”

“Okay, okay,” you huffed. He groaned as you sat up, spreading your legs to either side of his hips to steady yourself and keep from slipping in the tub that was slowly filling up. “But this was all you. You had to watch Passions.”

“You’re the one,” he grunted, “who volunteered to play babysitter.”

The shower head drenched you as you twisted and leaned back to flick the knob off.

“I’m normally good with kids, so I figured I could handle one whiny brat for a night.”

You were breathing heavily, your body throbbing from all the places you had scraped and bruised in the struggle. Spike didn’t look much better, although you supposed he had his super vampire healing or whatever. You weren’t worried about it. Your clothes, on the other hand...

“Now what?”

Carefully, you stood and stepped out of the tub. You avoided your textbook on the ground as you grabbed a towel from the cabinets underneath the sink and wrapped it around yourself.

“You can’t leave me here.”

There was at least an inch of water kept in the tub by the plugged drain. It would probably serve Spike right to sit there all night. You both knew that the others would find it funny rather than an exercise in abuse of authority.

“Take the chains off,” he said, switching his tone from murderous to honeyed. “I promise I won’t bite.”

“You can’t,” you retorted, before realizing you had proven his point. “I mean, if what you say is true.”

“Do you think I would be here right now if it wasn’t?”

You couldn’t. This was the setup for a disaster. Things like this always happened to you guys.

“Look, I could’ve hurt any of you before you chained me up. I didn’t.”

He did look kind of pitiful, soaking and lying on his back in the bathtub.

“Maybe you were playing the long game. And now you’ve decided it’s not for you.”

Your words made sense, but you were wavering. Maybe you had a death wish. You left the room for a moment and returned with the key.

“Your hands stay locked up.”

“Fine.”

You were all too aware how close to him you were now, to his mouth. You barely breathed when you stepped into his personal bubble and let the chains slide to the floor. His lips twisted as he looked down on you and before you could step back, his face contorted and he stretched his mouth open.

“Ow! Fuck! Bloody hell!” he cried, putting a hand to his head as you fell back onto the floor on your already sore ass, scrambling backward. “It was a joke!”

“Buffy should have staked you,” you spat, but you led him into the living room anyway.

The two of you were still dripping all over the carpet, but you ducked into Giles’s closet after re-hiding the key and brought out two pairs of pajama pants and a t-shirt.

As it was, you had to take the scissors to Spike’s shirt and throw it out. It was impossible to get it off with the chains on, though you gave it a shot anyway and ended up tangling Spike in it. It was kind of gratifyingly funny to see his head tucked in under the fabric as he struggled.

“You bloody witch!”

“Stop squirming!”

The pants were worse. He had to sit down in the armchair as you shimmied his soaked jeans off, leaving him only in boxers.

“Like what you see?”

“Shut up or I’ll leave you like this.”

Getting the pajamas on was even harder. He had to stand up, support himself by leaning his hands on your shoulder, and kind of hop into the legs of it as you held them up. They were big on him, too, but you tied the drawstrings as tightly as you could, which meant having your hands near a very sensitive area for a few seconds. Ultimately, the pants still hung low on his hips, and you wrinkled your nose in frustration. When you pulled back, Spike had his lips puckered, stringently trying to avoid laughter.

“So you’re just going to leave me in damp knickers?”

“We’re all having to make sacrifices today. Turn around.”

You didn’t want to leave him again, not even for a second, afraid of the trouble he’d get up to on his own. You yanked off your own jeans and t-shirt, watching his back in case he disobeyed you, unable to ignore how muscled and lean he was.

Goddamnit, he really could kill you if he had half a mind to. You’d been training ever since you’d found out what Buffy was, but with school and a job, there was only so much you could fit in.

You wavered between turning around to unclasp your bra and staying in place to monitor him, but ultimately you decided it was safer to just hurry up and do it. You weren’t sure how much skin Spike saw when he went ahead and broke the rules, but it was more than you had hoped. You pulled the t-shirt over your head hurriedly, but Giles wasn’t necessarily a very big man, and it was decidedly short on you.

“Spike,” you hissed. “Go watch TV.”

“Well, we’ve probably missed Passions by now. But our romantic evening doesn’t have to be ruined.” His eyebrow quirked suggestively and you balled up your wet jeans, aiming right at his face.

“Go!”

You almost took yourself out on the corner of the coffee table as you pulled on Giles’s only pair of pajama shorts. You had to roll the top down three times for them to sit at your hips without totally falling off. Spike watched you do it. You gritted your teeth and said nothing.

When the others came back, you and Spike were in separate chairs, your hair still drying.

Xander opened his mouth and then closed it, glancing back and forth between the two of you. Giles seemed disturbed, his right eye beginning to spasm as he spotted the piles of clothes on the floor. Willow stifled a laugh, almost choking on it. And Buffy’s fists curled like she was preparing to hit one—or both—of you.

Spike didn’t look away from the TV, although the corner of his mouth twitched. You dug your fingers into the chair’s arm rests.

“I deserve a raise.”

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

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ex-vengeancedemon · 3 years

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Averting Disasters and Other Ways to Avoid Your Problems

Chapter 5

Characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Mentions of things that occurred in Angel: The Series season 5.

Main Pairing: Buffy x Spike

Characters: Buffy, Spike, Giles, Willow, Xander, Andrew, Faith, Dawn

Summary: Set in 2008, five years after Spike’s resurrection at Wolfram & Hart. Buffy is living in Cleveland guarding the hellmouth. Spike has left Angel and company and is hiding out in Chicago. The Scoobies are scattered. When something starts going wrong with the slayers around the world, it’s time to get the gang back together.

Masterlist & Chapter 1

Chapter 5

"Buffy. Buffy! Slayer!" Spike yelled as he grabbed the pacing Buffy by the shoulders. "It's alright. You're home. The First is gone. You beat it. Remember?"

"What?" Buffy stared at him wild-eyed with something that almost looked like fear.

Apparently this was exactly the Buffy he remembered. Right down to her timeline.

"Buffy," Spike began slowly, "what's the last thing you remember?"

Buffy shook her head and tore away from him, resuming her pacing. "I- we were preparing to face The First. The plan was to go to the high school tomorrow and finish it. One way or another. I was going to give-"

She began frantically searching her pockets, almost ripping the lining of her already tore-up jeans. "Where is it? I just had it!"

"Where is what?" he asked. "Buffy, please. How about you just sit down on the couch and I'll go fetch some bandages. We'll sort the rest out after."

She shook her head vigorously. "No! I have to find it. Angel said-"

Realization dawned on him. She was talking about the amulet. The one that killed him. The one that brought him back.

Spike took her shaking hands in his own, trying his best to be reassuring, though he felt unsteady himself. "Don't worry about the amulet. I got it. It's over. The First is gone, Buffy. It's really gone. You won."

She looked into his face searchingly. He wasn't certain what she found their, but she stopped shaking.

"How?" she asked.

"I'll explain it all," he replied with no small measure of relief. "Just as soon as we get you patched up. Scout's honor."

Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly for an instant, a shadow of doubt crossing over her features. Spike noticed how accentuated those shadows had become. Her face seemed more hollow than he remembered, and dark circles hung under her eyes.

This wasn't how it was suppose to be. She was supposed to be better. She was supposed to be happy. She was... she was suppose to be free.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

She nodded slowly. "I do."

"Good, then sit down."

Spike led her over to the tan couch that reminded him more of burlap than linen. She sat without protest, gazing over at the window without blinking. That might not have been a cause for concern... if the curtains had been open. He was hesitant to leave her alone, even if it was just to go to another room for a moment. Her behavior was nothing short of erratic and unpredictable. For all he knew, she could sprint out the door and be lost in the night in an instant. But that gash looked bad, and he couldn't just leave her covered in blood - her own or otherwise.

He would be quick.

Spike bounded up the stairs, taking pains to appear calm and collected until Buffy was out of sight. Once she was, he hurriedly made his way to the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet behind the mirror that - blessedly - showed no reflection. Pill bottles spilled out, falling into the sink, some half empty, some completely empty. Spike wasn't exactly sure what most of them were for. He never really had much need of painkillers himself. Unless you count bourbon. He grabbed a bottle conveniently labeled 'painkiller' and stuffed it in his coat pocket. Continuing his tear through Buffy's bathroom, he found a red first aid kit under the sink. Jackpot.

"You know, you could've just asked me where the first aid kit was instead of totaling the bathroom."

Spike jumped, pulling himself out of the cupboard and hitting his head on the counter's edge. He cursed under his breath and looked up to find Buffy standing in the doorway with her arms crossed.

"You were supposed to wait on the couch," he replied, rubbing the spot on his head that had kissed counter.

"I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine."

Spike looked pointedly at the gash on her leg and Buffy frowned.

"I don't know where I got that," she said finally. "I don't remember."

Spike stood up slowly with the first aid kit in hand. "It's alright. We'll get this all sorted."

It was all he knew to say.

Whether she was convinced or not, he didn't know, but she let him guide her to her bedroom. Buffy made her way directly to the bed and took a seat at its edge, her eyes downcast. Spike stopped dead at the threshold as if he was barred from entry.

The room was nothing like Buffy's old bedroom in Sunnydale. It reminded him slightly of a military barrack. Sterile, regulation, generic, and empty. The bedspread was a bright white, but it was stained with splotches of crusting blood. On the dresser were two picture frames: one with Buffy and Dawn, and another with a picture of the full Scooby gang. There was nothing else in terms of personalization. Nothing... unless you counted the walls.

All four walls of Buffy's bedroom were covered in newspaper clippings, photographs, and handwritten notes. Everything seemed meticulously organized by case. Mysterious killings. Suspected vampire attacks. Demon sightings. Everything a slayer would need to hunt down and track potential creatures of the night.

It was all wrong. Everything about the room was eerie. It didn't seem like Buffy at all. It wasn't her style.

The slayer stayed seated on the bed, looking down at her hands that were covered in some combination of dirt and blood. Spike ignored the walls for the moment and knelt down next to her.

He snatched a bottle of antiseptic from the kit and began dabbing it on the long gash on the side of Buffy's exposed calf. She winced but otherwise didn't react. Spike worked carefully to remove all dirt and caked-on blood from around the wound. He hoped it wasn't infected, but it might not be the worst idea to get her to a doctor later.

"You said you would explain," Buffy said, breaking the silence. Her monotone voice seemed almost worse than her previous panic. "Start explaining."

Spike didn't answer immediately, choosing instead to focus on cleaning up her wound. Really he just needed a minute to think of something to say.

"Where to start," he said with a humorless laugh. "Well, Willow did it. Activated all the Potentials. You, Faith, and a whole lot of newly made slayers beat back a whole legion of those Turak-Han nasties. It was really something to see." He grinned at her. "You were really somethin', Buff. Ask anyone who was there. The First is gone."

He paused and his grin faded. Now he supposed he owed her the less welcome news, she had to know eventually.

"But Anya didn't make it."

Buffy stiffened and she looked away. There were no tears. No nothing. Just a blank, emotionless expression.

"All the other Scoobies made it out alright," he continued, trying to add a happy note. "Xander, Willow, Giles, Dawn, Faith, they're all alright. Just saw Willow and Xander myself. Right as rain."

Buffy laughed. It was strained and slightly manic, but Spike sensed more relief than anything else.

He looked down. "But to do it, well, Sunnydale is nothing but a bloody hole in the ground. We leveled the hellmouth. It's gone. Permanently."

Buffy stared at him like he had started speaking Latin. "Gone? How?"

He chuckled ruefully. "Well that nifty little bauble of yours came in handy after all."

Spike finished cleaning the wound and began wrapping it with a layer of gauze and medical tape. When he was finished, he began wiping off her hands with the antiseptic before he realized that the blood wasn't her own. She stopped him and for a moment he just marveled at being able to hold her hand. Then he was hit with the sudden realization that he hadn't redeemed himself in her eyes yet, not according to her memory.

"Can you give me a moment?" she asked. "Just- wait downstairs. I'll be right there."

She seemed rational. Calm. So he just nodded and did as she asked.

***

After Spike left her, Buffy let out an unsteady breath as her hands began shaking again. Tears welled up in her eyes and she put her head in her hands. She didn't want to see the walls. Covered in those unfamiliar clippings, traced over with someone else's handwriting.

Sunnydale was gone. Anya was dead. She was a complete mess with no idea what was going on. And Spike was looking at her like she was some sort of ghost, some miraculous apparition. It reminded her of when he had first seen her after she clawed her way out of her grave. Maybe she had died in that battle with The First. Maybe Spike just didn't want to tell her they had snatched her from death's jaws yet again. She couldn't remember a heaven this time. She couldn't remember anything.

She shot up from her bed and almost ran out of the room, heading directly to the bathroom. When she got there, she threw the handle of the sink onto its hottest setting and scrubbed at her hands until they were bright red and not a speck of the blood or dirt remained. Moving on to her face, she washed off more grime with a soapy washcloth until she was satisfied. If she could just wash off the blood, she'd be good as new. The woman who looked back at her in the mirror looked paler than normal, with slightly bloodshot eyes. She frowned. Guess leading a bunch of Potentials into battle will do that to a person. Then she froze. No. That was over. Whatever the reason for her sorry state, it had nothing to do with The First.

She fixed her hair back in a hasty braid and returned to the bedroom, grabbing the first outfit she could get her hands on. She took the new clothes back to the bathroom, shutting the bedroom door behind her. If she never saw those walls again, it would be too soon.

She changed into what she realized must be some of her patrolling attire: all black pants and a long-sleeve shirt. It wasn't the most stylish ensemble, but it would do. She guessed this Buffy didn't have as good of a fashion sense. Oh god, I'm turning into a creepy hermit who only comes out at night, aren't I?

And from the looks of the house, it seemed she was the sole occupant. No Dawn. No boyfriend. No girlfriend. No roommate. No pet. And when all the current madness got figured out, she made a mental note to do something about the décor.

***

Spike roamed around downstairs where nothing seemed amiss besides the mud. It was a bit odd how all the doors were unlocked, but other than that there didn't seem to be any pressing cause for concern. There were no messages on the answering machine. The phone line still worked. So why hadn't she been answering her calls? Had she been getting the messages?

He heard the sink turn on upstairs and hadn't heard any windows opening, so he figured the amnesiac patient at least wasn't trying to make a break for it this instant. Tacked up next to the phone was a list showing two columns of names and phone numbers: Willow, Xander, Giles, Faith, Dawn, Andrew, Angel, and others he didn't recognize. He picked up the phone and quickly dialed a number. No time for second guessing.

The phone line rang five times before someone picked up.

"Hey Buffy, what's up?"

"Hey nibblet," Spike replied, keeping his voice low to prevent eavesdroppers. Well, eavesdropper anyway.

There was no response on the other end.

"It's Spike," he continued. "I think you better get yourself over to Cleveland. Now."

"I don't know what kind of sick game this is," Dawn hissed back, "but I'm not playing."

"Call Willow," Spike replied. "She'll catch you up to speed. Tell her you know about the slayers."

With that he hung up.

Ten minutes later, he heard Buffy come down the stairs and she found him staring at the phone. She looked much better than when he had left her. Her hands and face had been cleaned up, her hair was pulled back in a braid, and she had gotten a change of clothes. The wild, bloodstained Buffy he had first seen had been replaced with a more familiar version. She seemed to have shook off most of her earlier fear and panic - outwardly, at least. Always the soldier.

"Alright, so what the hell is going on then?" she asked. "Why can't I remember any of this? Seems like a battle that would be kind of hard to forget."

"We don't know yet."

"We?"

"Willow, Xander, Andrew, and Giles are working on it. It's happening to all the slayers."

Buffy frowned. "Has anyone checked on Faith?"

Spike shook his head. "Not that I know of. No one's been able to reach either of you for days."

Buffy sighed, crossing her arms. "Great. Anything else I should know?"

He pursed his lips as if in thought. "No, I think that about covers it."

"Alright, let's go meet up with everyone then." She made to turn toward the door before pausing. "How long has it been?"

"Not sure I quite followed you there."

"Since Sunnydale."

"Ah. That."

This would be easy. Just tell the slayer that it's been almost six years now since we leveled your old residence, destroying all your high school and college memories forever along with your family home and all your childhood keepsakes. Also I have no idea where your sister is and you haven't seen your old buddies in a couple years. And, oh yeah, I died and came back from the dead six months later and never told you about it.

Instead, he simply settled on, "It's been almost six years. Year's 2008. The U.S. just elected its first black president and they released a truly horrible film about sparklin' vampires."

Buffy's eyes widened, but she masked her shock admirably. "Oh. And so, I've just been, what? Guarding the Cleveland hellmouth?"

"Well, yeah, for some of that time anyway."

"And what have you been-" she started, then seemed to switch tracks. "I mean, where'd you end up? You know, after."

Spike looked down at the floor, making the pebbles scattered around seem like the most interesting thing in the room. "Los Angeles. Ran with Angel and his merry band of do-gooders for a beat."

It wasn't exactly a lie. It wasn't the whole truth either.

"Oh. You ran off to LA," she said tonelessly. "Everyone seems to love it there."

Before he could respond to what sounded almost like an accusation, the front door flew open and slammed open hard enough for the doorknob to leave a hole in the drywall.

"B! We need to talk," Faith said, storming in without invitation and startling the both of them.

The arm of her leather jacket was torn at the seam and barely hanging on and a shallow cut ran across her forehead. Her dark brown hair was matted from the blood. She was similarly disheveled as Buffy had been earlier. Seemed to be going around.

She froze when she caught sight of Spike. He guessed the jig was up.

Faith pulled a stake out of her boot and lunged at him. "What the hell are you?" she growled, as he jumped back from her parry.

"Faith, stop!" Buffy ordered, grabbing her arm before she could attempt another blow. "What are you doing?!"

Faith ripped her arm away and raised up a hand at Spike. "Buffy, that's not Spike! I don't know what the hell it is, but Spike died in Sunnydale. There's no way anyone survived that!"

#btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #btvs fanfiction #buffy the vampire slayer fanfiction #spuffy fanfiction #spuffy #spike x buffy #spike btvs #buffy summers #averting disasters and other ways to avoid your problems #chapter 5

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thatfanficstuff · 5 years

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The Bookworm - Spike

Pairing: Spike x Reader

Warnings: um...nope.

A/N: Spike. Requested by me. For me. Cuz Spike.

***

You placed your bag in the back seat of your car and shut the door. When you glanced up you saw Buffy heading in your direction. She gave you a tight smile and glanced around as she got to your car. “Hey, Buff. Did you want to ride with me to Giles’ place?”

“No, I’m good but I did want to talk to you about that. I just wanted to let you know that you didn’t need to come tonight.”

You shifted your weight on your feet. “Oh, did you guys figure out what it was that ate those kids already?” You’d gone to Sunnydale High along with the rest of the Scooby gang. Unlike the rest of your classmates you chose not to ignore the vampires and everything else that ran rampant in your town. And as it turned out you had a knack for research so they’d kept you around.

Realizing Buffy hadn’t responded and wasn’t looking at you, you tilted your head trying to catch her eye. “Buffy?”

“The thing is, we’ve discussed it and we really don’t need you to help out at all anymore.”

Your stomach dropped. “I’m sorry?”

“Come on, Y/N. You have to admit that you don’t do much. I mean if anything, you get in the way. The only reason we let you stay involved is because you were in the know so to speak. Now that we’re not in high school anymore, it’s time to move on, you know?” She rested a hand on your upper arm and gave it a squeeze before she turned and walked away.

You stared after her, too stunned to stop her or follow her. You had thought…Well, you had thought they were your friends. And you had thought you were helping save people. But if Buffy said you were in the way, apparently you’d been wrong.

You just wished someone had said something sooner. Maybe you could have been less of a bother or just stayed out of the way. Maybe they would have wanted you to stick around.

Maybe you’d still have your friends.

***

Spike leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. The Scoobies were all talking to one another as they waited for Buffy and Y/N to show up. Spike normally didn’t get involved until it was time for the fight, but he’d found himself hanging around more and more lately. Usually he’d end up helping Y/N. At first it was because she seemed to be the only one that could tolerate him. Then it was because he found her fascinating. Truth be told, he had it rather bad for his little bookworm.

Everyone looked up when Buffy stepped into the house but there was no sign of you.

“Hello, Buffy,” Giles greeted. He furrowed his brow when he saw that she was alone. “Where is Y/N?”

She shrugged and pursed her lips. “How should I know?”

Spike pushed himself away from the wall and glowered at the blonde. “What did you do?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she insisted.

“Buffy.” The word was little more than a growl and the others in the room looked between the two of them.

“Seriously, Spike, just drop it. It’s better if she’s not here anyway. She just gets in the way.”

Willow frowned. “That’s not true at all. She’s almost a better researcher than Giles.”

The Englishman in question looked at her over the top of his glasses.

“I said almost,” Willow protested sheepishly.

“Well, we can do that without her.” Everyone turned to look at the Slayer but she wouldn’t meet anyone’s eye.

Spike clenched his fists at his sides. “You petty, spiteful bitch.”

Shouts of “Spike” went up from around the room along with one “Whoa, back off there, buddy” from Xander.

He ignored them all. “What did you say to her? What did you do?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Spike,” Giles said getting his attention. “Explain please.”

“The Slayer here made me an offer I found rather easy to refuse.”

When no one commented, Spike rolled his eyes. “She came onto me and I told her in no uncertain terms that my affections lie elsewhere. Namely with one little bookworm.”

Xander laughed. “You and Y/N? Ha!”

“I mean, Buffy would n-never…” Willow trailed off. “Yeah, never mind.”

Giles sighed and took off his glasses. He pinched the bridge of his nose before slipping them back on. “I suppose someone should um—go find Y/N so we can sort this out.”

Xander hopped up from his spot. “I’ll go.”

Spike turned with a glare. Xander held his hands up and took a step back. “Or Spike. Spike could go.”

***

Someone knocked on the door to your apartment. You thought about ignoring it but you rarely had visitors. The knock came again. You sniffed and wiped the moisture from your cheeks. “Just a minute,” you called. Your head throbbed as you got to your feet.

Why did crying have to give you a headache? As if you weren’t already miserable enough. You opened your door and sucked in a breath as you were greeted by your favorite head of white-blond hair. Spike glanced up as you opened the door and ran his gaze over your face. “You’ve been crying.”

“Thanks for pointing that out, Spike.” You crossed your arms over your chest and looked down at your feet. When he didn’t say anything, you cleared your throat. “What can I do for you?”

“When you didn’t show up tonight, I thought perhaps I better come check on you. You’re the only one I can tolerate. You know that.”

You stepped away from the door, leaving it open behind you so he could follow you in. “I guess you weren’t included in the vote then?”

“Vote?”

You reclaimed your previous seat on the couch and pulled your blanket over your lap. “Yeah. The one where they decided to finally tell me I was only in the way and I wasn’t needed anymore.”

“I swear I’m going to kill that blonde bitch.” Spike’s voice was little more than a snarl and you turned wide eyes in his direction.

“Spike?” you prompted when he didn’t explain on his own.

He sat on the edge of the chair next to you and leaned forward, keeping his gaze on yours as he spoke. “Listen, love, whatever Buffy told you was strictly her opinion. The rest of us didn’t know anything about it.”

“But…” Your brow furrowed. It didn’t make any sense. Buffy had been the one that encouraged you to help out when you’d discovered the truth. And now Spike was saying she was the only one that didn’t want you around?

“I would have come on my own anyway, but you should know that Giles asked me to come get you.”

You considered for a moment then shook your head. “Buffy has an important job. If she feels like I’m in the way, maybe I should just forget the whole thing. If I make things harder on her, I shouldn’t be involved.” As much as it killed you to say it, you meant it. Buffy had to have a reason to not want you around anymore.

“Don’t you dare listen to her, Y/N. She’s pissed she didn’t get what she wanted and she’s taking it out on you. Simple as that. Now, why don’t you get freshened up and I’ll escort you to Giles’ myself.”

Your brow was still furrowed but you nodded your head as you got to your feet. Spike followed you down the hall to your bedroom and leaned in the doorway. His eyes trailed you as you dug through your closet to find a different shirt. Finding something satisfactory, you started to pull off the old shirt only to realize Spike was still watching you.

“Do you mind?”

He grinned. “No. Not at all.”

When you simply continued to stare at him, he chuckled and turned his back toward you.

You switched shirts quickly and ducked into the bathroom to clean your face. Your mind kept running over your conversation with Spike. Once you felt refreshed, you sat the rag to the side, you met Spike’s eyes in the mirror. He’d come over to the bathroom door to watch you while you scrubbed away the remnants of your tears.

“What did she want?”

Spike frowned. “Come again, love?”

“You said Buffy was pissed because she didn’t get what she wanted. What did she want?” It was important to you to know what was so damned important, Buffy would toss you aside in her ire. Not only that, but she was willing to let you think none of your friends wanted you around anymore. The more you thought about it, the angrier you became.

Spike came to stand behind you. He rested his chin on your shoulder and placed his hands on the counter to either side of you. The two of you kept your gazes locked in the mirror. Finally, he smiled, but it didn’t mask the hint of worry you could see shining in his eyes. “Me.”

Your brows shot up. “You?” Your surprise came not only from the fact that Buffy would admit to her feelings but from the fact that she was the only one you’d admitted your feelings for the vampire to. You’d thought her your friend, but if she was coming onto the guy you told her you liked she really wasn’t. The thought didn’t hurt as badly as you’d expected it to.

“Don’t sound so surprised, love. I’m near impossible to resist.”

You chuckled and placed your hands on top of his. Your gaze shifted to watch your fingers intertwine and your heart started to race. “I’m just surprised you didn’t take her up on it.”

“It’s not her I’m interested in.” He said the words softly. His fingers remained intertwined with yours as he moved his arms so they crossed over your stomach. He turned his face into your neck and pressed a soft kiss to your skin.

You sucked in a breath and your gaze darted up to meet his again. You swallowed past the lump in your throat. “It’s not?”

He pulled you gently against him and shook his head. “I’ve found bookworms more my type than slayers it seems.”

Your lips twitched but you managed to keep the smile off your face. You nodded. “That’s probably for the best. Safer that way.”

He flattened one hand against your stomach and moved the other up to rest gently across the front of your neck. His teeth scraped the skin at the side of your throat. “Safe is not necessarily the word I would use.”

You hummed in contentment as your eyes slipped closed and you leaned your head to the side to expose more of your throat to him. His answering moan finally had you allowing yourself to smile. “Have I mentioned I’m crazy about you?”

He stilled behind you. “Since when?”

“Since way before I should have been. You were still firmly in evil villain territory.”

Your eyes flew open as he turned you to face him. His hands framed your face and his eyes searched yours. After a moment, he tilted his head. “You’re serious.”

You slid your hands around his waist to pull him closer to you and pressed your lips to his. His lips slid along yours making you smile again. You leaned back and looked up at him. “Us bookworms have to stick together, William.”

The pure shock on his face pulled a giggle from you.

“How did you—”

You cut him off with another kiss. If his enthusiastic response was any indication, he didn’t mind in the least.

#spike imagine #spike x reader #spike x you #buffy the vampire slayer imagine #btvs fanfiction #btvs imagine

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melonsmessymusings · 4 years

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Potential Post S2 Fic...

Right so my current WIP seems to be going alright, but someone asked is there’s going to be a sequel and I honestly hadn’t even considered it... until 4am the other day. Since then, I’ve written a 5,000 word outline of what the plot would be, with every twist and turn and everything in alarming detail.

Basically it’d be a Post-Becoming ‘What we did on our summer holiday’ type thing focused around recovery for each of the gang except Buffy, because she’s not fuckin there, and I’ve got some really interesting ideas that are getting steadily weirder.

It won’t be happy, it’s going to mess everyone up because I really want to write a story focusing on how they all coped after the whole Acathla and Angelus thing. Because let’s be honest, everyone was a mess and obviously they would be and I don't think it was properly addressed in canon. Now I’m by no means suggesting that what could be created will be any good, and it might be way off base but now that I’ve got the idea in my head, it won’t fucking leave. Let me give a brief overview of what the plan is in my head:

A massive angst fest with copious whump, guilt, and torment and all that jazz. I want the gang breaking down every thirty seconds because they don’t know what to do.

I want the Police launching a full scale investigation as to what the ever loving fuck happened that night. I want them starting a manhunt for Buffy, keeping tabs on all the Scoobies and just generally doing their fuckin jobs for once.

I want Willow blaming herself for Buffy running away because if she’d been able to do the spell the first time then maybe it wouldn’t have happened. I want her actually recovering from nearly dying and turning into a mother hen about the others. I want her making the guys take their meds, I want her planning things to do to make the idea of doing physio fun because if she focuses on how badly everyone is hurting then she'd literally become catatonic.

I want Xander utterly helpless as his friends struggle to heal from it all and falling into a manic depression. I want him turning that uselessness into learning to cook so he can make dinner for everyone. I want him doing night shifts at people’s houses to make sure they’re not alone, I want him trying to be the glue that holds everyone together through the tough times.

I want Giles to be going physically insane with finding Buffy while literally falling apart. I want him to be forced to accept what happened to him and I want him to actually look like he was fucking brutally tortured for like twelve hours by a one of the most evil vampires to plague the earth, because he was. I want him utterly unable to cope with it and being a complete state no matter what anyone does to try and help him. I want him to stay up all night trying to find Buffy and being prepared to do anything to get her back home safe even if he has to sell his soul to Satan. I want the guy to be a fuckin husk of the man he once was because his whole life fell apart in the space of like a month and a half and believe me, that shit breaks you.

Joyce needs to be a wreck, I want her to blame Giles for everything even though she knows it’s not his fault deep down. I want her to help Willow and Xander, and later Giles, in recovering and finding Buffy. I want her to understand the impact of her words and actions. I want to explore how she met that bitch Pat and how she dealt with Hank when he’d be all ‘I knew you couldn’t handle her’ and being a downright arsehole.

Giles teaching them how to patrol because there’s no fucking way he’s going to let them out without some training and preparation. He probably won’t let them out anyway but he knows he can’t stop them and he’s in no state to do anything himself.

I want the Watchers’ Council to get involved and run an investigation. I want them to be like ‘oh dear Rupert, it’s all gone terribly wrong’ because fucking Kendra died on top of this mess and now they need to find the next Slayer. Travers frothing at the mouth because everything seems to always go wrong on Giles’ watch and it’s not funny anymore.

Snyder being a nuisance because it’s funny and he’s convinced that these meddling kids are going to ruin his perfect structure and order.

There needs to be a hopeful ending not a happy one because that’s not how life works. I want them all to be hopeful that Buffy’s return will bring a sense of normalcy and balance back to their lives. They won’t ever recover from it, but eventually the pain becomes bearable and they can begin to move on.

Do you see why I want this? There’s so much potential to unpack there. I’ve been desperate to give my own interpretation of the between season events, but never had the balls to actually start it. Until now.

Is that something you'd be interested in reading? Because I may and or may not have started it and blasted 18K words out in two days... so it’s not something that won’t exist. If anyone has any ideas on stuff like the title or just wants to tell me to shut the fuck up and stop wasting people’s time, let me know.

#btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy summers #willow rosenberg #xander harris #rupert giles #fanfic #ao3 writer #honestly what the fuck is wrong with me #someone send help

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mistysnat · 4 years

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Worry And Care - Faith/Buffy - 2000+ words

Season 7, extended fuffy scene after the Empty Places fight, this time with a lil more communication hopefully

on ao3

The front door quietly hinges shut behind Faith as she follows Buffy into the chilly night air, crossing her arms over her chest. “Wait! B... Buffy. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

Buffy stops at the edge of the porch but doesn’t turn around. “What did you mean to have happen, then? You brought it up. Obviously you didn’t agree with how I was handling things.” But she doesn’t sound angry, just hollow. Almost like she expected her friends to stab her in the back.

Faith clears her throat awkwardly. “Well, no, but I… I didn’t want everyone to jump all over you and shit. It wasn’t even about them! I was just trying to...talk to you.”

“Talk to me? Question my leadership in front of everyone, you mean? Cause this completely unprepared group to fracture even more while I’m doing everything I can to keep us going?”

“No! I wanted to talk to you, Jesus. I’m…,” she huffs, throwing her arms down. “I’m worried about you, Buffy. I just thought maybe I’d say something and we’d all take a break and think about it and you could, like, fuck, I don’t know, go to sleep? And we could talk about it in the morning? You just look so…,” Faith bites her lip and cuts herself off, not sure where she should stop, if she went too far already.

“So what?” Buffy asks in an empty voice.

Faith half shrugs, eyes flitting between Buffy’s back and the dark air surrounding them. “Tired. Stressed out, more than usual, I mean. Like you’re about to snap, or something. It’s freaking me out.”

Buffy’s quiet for several moments. “Maybe I am about to snap, Faith. Is that any of your business? You don’t even—you haven’t been around for the last few years. For any of the things I’ve—the things that have been happening, although you featured pretty heavily in the beginning of Bad Times for Buffy. You don’t get a say in how I deal with it, okay! Everyone is always trying to—to dictate how I feel and...make me okay with everything. But maybe I’m not. Okay.”

Faith just sighs. “I know.”

Neither of them say anything as the cool air stings their fingers and cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Faith says gruffly, throat thick. “I wish I was.”

“What?” Buffy turns around to face Faith, the last of her tears drying on her face.

“Here. I wish I was here. For you. With you, I mean, with you guys, everyone, just to—help out, with everything. Whatever. It’s what I should have been doing.”

Buffy scoffs. “Right. I’m sure you would have loved seeing me cry over my mom dying and over Giles leaving and over being dead and….”

“No, I would have hated it, B.”

Buffy scowls. “Exactly. So don’t blame me if I’m not exactly heartbroken that you weren’t around to witness my most bad and humiliating moments so that you could make me feel even worse.”

“No, I—fuck!” Faith exclaims, annoyed with their constant miscommunication. “It’s not like that! I wouldn’t hate to be around, I already said I should have been here. But why would I...why would I love to see you cry?”

The silence emerges again as Buffy chews on her lower lip. “You did before,” she mutters darkly.

“No I didn’t.” She says it before she can stop herself.

“Like hell you didn’t,” Buffy snaps. “Did you forget all the things you did to me? The things you purposefully did to break me?”

“I know what I did, Buffy. Trust me, I could never forget. But I never liked it. Seeing it, I mean. What it did to you. How I hurt you.” Faith looks up from the ground and grabs Buffy’s gaze with intense, emotion filled brown eyes, and Buffy can’t look away.

“I….” Buffy opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. “Then why did you? Do it?” She waves her hand in the air between them immediately, brushing off any possible reply. “Never mind, we don’t have to get into it now. I don’t understand, but I do know why you did it...for the most part.” Faith flushes a little at that, remembering a recent conversation where she’d confessed most of the frenzied logic that had lead to her downward spiral. “Just, but it...seemed like you liked hurting me.”

Faith nods. “I know it did. I acted like I did. I seemed like a lot of things that I wasn’t.” She keeps going at Buffy’s silence. “Hell, and some things I was, too. Even I couldn’t keep it straight most of the time.”

Buffy snorts. “Well, that I can believe.”

“But I didn’t like hurting you, Buffy. I felt like I had to do it, but I fucking hated myself for it. And for everything else. Maybe some day you can believe me about that, even if you can’t forgive me. I don’t expect you to.”

Buffy averts her eyes. “Why do you even want me to? Isn’t it water under the giant bridge for you at this point?”

Faith wants to say something easy, but all she can do is shake her head and choke out, “Never.” What she did to Buffy will never leave her, not ever. She clears her throat. “Plus, hey, the world’s about to end, gotta make amends, right?”

Buffy sinks down onto the porch step, heavily, like all her bones just turned to cement at the thought of doomsday looming. “Yeah. I guess now’s as good a time as any. We’ll probably all be six feet under in a few weeks, so. At least there’s this. Last ditch effort to get some things off our chest.”

Faith nods, unsure if she should join Buffy on the step or go back inside and deal with whatever chaos is sure to be brewing. Maybe she can convince Buffy to come back with her. She’s about to chance asking, but with one look it seems that Buffy’s deep in thought.

“So, you were worried about me, huh?” Buffy asks suddenly in an easier tone, smirking lightly.

Faith blinks, surprised. “Still am. But I think you’re gonna be okay.”

“I was too. Worried, I mean. About you,” Buffy says quietly.

“Huh? You mean...’cause of the evil cops? I’m fine—”

“No…,” Buffy whispers, “back then. I was worried about you. I was so worried that you were gonna go off the deep end. That you were hiding your feelings. And I didn’t know how to handle it. I just wanted you to know...that you could talk to me, tell me the truth. That’s why I put so much pressure on you to be honest, I guess. I wanted to get through to you. And look what happened.”

Faith gives a short laugh. “And I just put pressure on you ‘cause I wanted you to open up to me, with wicked great results again. Fuck. I guess we really don’t know how to talk to each other.”

Buffy snorts. “Nope.” Worry and care just come out like anger and mistrust around Faith. She doesn’t want them to but she can’t seem to help it, and it seems like Faith has the same issue. She hates it, can’t stop hoping for the understanding and connection with Faith that she’s always longed for. However impossible it seems. “Think we’ll learn to?”

“Well, if an old dog like you can learn new tricks….”

“Calling me old now?”

“You know it,” Faith smirks. “Fuck, B, you’re running an army here. You ain’t no babe in swaddle clothes or whatever.”

“I guess. I feel old, anyway.”

“Well, you look hot, so don’t worry about it.”

“I thought you said I look tired?”

“Uh….”

“Gotcha.” Buffy smiles and Faith just smiles back, glad that Buffy seems not about to burst into tears again. She keeps smiling at Buffy until it gets to be too much, then turns her gaze outward. They sit in companionable, as opposed to resentful, silence for once. It’s nice. Then Faith shakes her head, breaking the calm quiet. “Shit, I can’t believe they threw you out of your own damn house, B. That was kinda fucked up. I never thought I’d see the day the scoobies would rebel against their golden queen.”

“I didn’t see you saying anything against it.”

Faith shrugs. “Wouldn’t have been my place. Come on, these are your best friends. You guys have history. And you’re right, I haven’t been around, for, like, years. I know I don’t get much of a say here.” She pauses. “Still think it was fucked up, though.”

“I guess you’re right. I don’t really blame you. You were just...voicing your opinion. You’re allowed, I suppose,” Buffy sniffs.

“Oh, I am huh?” Faith chuckles. “When did that change? Never was before.”

Buffy rolls her eyes. “Yes you were. Or if you weren’t, you did it anyway. I sure heard a lot of what you had to say.”

Faith laughs outright at that. “And you always let me have it for what I said.” She pauses for a moment, calculating her next comment. “But you didn’t say anything to them now, and I...I think you should have, B. What right do they have? Seriously, Buffy, they can’t treat you like that. You’re trying to help them, for Christ’s sake. And don’t you pay the bills in this joint?”

Buffy just sighs and rolls her shoulders back, gazing out into the night. “People treat me however they want to, it seems. I’m just expected to take it.” This Buffy is so different than the one Faith had known. It seems like her defiance, her confidence, her fire has all but gone out and she’s hanging on by sheer force of will. Fuck, Faith’s not surprised the scoobies had been able tear her down so easily. It hurts. It fucking hurts to see her so sad and defeated. She wants to remind Buffy of who she is.

“You never took it from me. Got the wounds to prove it.”

Buffy grimaces but just says, “’Cause you were annoying.”

Faith huffs. “Oh, and Willow and Xander and all them aren’t? I’m sorry, B, but your friends are irritating as shit.”

Buffy smiles a little. “Well. Irritating in a lovable way, maybe.”

Faith brings a hand to her chest protectively. “And I’m not lovable? I’m hurt, B. I really am.”

Buffy’s lips twitch. “I didn’t say that, you big baby. I’m sure you were lovable.” She narrows her eyes. “As an infant.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. My mom said I was a little devil. Threw my baby chow on the floor and ripped my diapers off and dragged them on the carpet.”

Buffy hmms. “Always trying to take your clothes off.”

“That’s what you got from my story? Damn, B, you seem pretty fixated on my body if that’s the case.”

“You wish!”

“Hell yeah I do, and what are you gonna do about it?” Faith leans forward as she teases, into Buffy’s space. God, she loves this. How things between her and Buffy can go from heartbreaking and so painful one second to exciting and crackling with chemistry the next, she’s sure she’ll never know.

Buffy smiles. “Well, not kick your ass I guess, since we have bigger fish to fry.”

“Hey now, I knew the apocalypse would come through for me one of these days! But listen,” Faith whispers conspiratorially to Buffy, gesturing for her to lean in. “I know how you can get back at me.”

“Yeah, and how would that be?” Buffy whispers in return.

“Come back in the house with me. Make your besties and the newbies screech and cry all night long. No sleep for Faith. That’s a surefire way to get me to suffer.”

Buffy widens her eyes. “Jeez, I don’t know, Faith. That seems a little harsh, even for you.”

Faith grins. “I knew you were a big softie for me, B.” She holds her hand out, palm open and reaching. “But seriously, come back with me. Please. You know we sure as shit can’t do it without you.”

And Buffy takes her hand.

#fuffy #faith lehane #buffy summers #faith x buffy #fuffy fanfic #buffy x faith #fuffy fanfiction #IT'S BEEN 84 YEARS #but here i am back on my fuffy bullshit #i'm doing a rewatch and was inspired #and just so y'all know my fuffy love is ALWAYS there #never dims a bit #my girls....#i actually kinda like this one #it's not perfect but please tell me what you thought??#and maybe i'll be inspired to write some more fuffy #ANYWAY I LOVE BUFFY AND I LOVE FAITH BYE

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bobasheebaby · 4 years

Text

100 Buffy Prompts

I had a lot of fun compiling this list. I was cracking up more than once and now I want to binge Buffy. If there is a show you want let me know because these seriously help me shut of my brain during this covid hell.

1 “NAME, your mouth is open, sound is coming from it. This is never good.” – Buffy Summers

2 “I just want to be alone and quite in a room with a chair and a fireplace and a tea cozy. I don’t even know what a tea cozy is, but I want one.” – Buffy Summers

3 "They were supposed to be my light at the end of the tunnel. I guess they were a train.” – Buffy Summers

4 “I don’t know what’s coming next. But I do know it’s gonna be just like this – hard, painful. But in the end, it’s gonna be us. If we all do our parts, believe it, we’ll be the one’s left standing.” – Buffy Summers

5 “I don’t handle rejection well. Funny, considering all the practice I’ve had, huh?” – Xander Harris

6 "Just because you’re better than us doesn’t mean you can be all superior.” – Xander Harris

7 “I’m leaning towards blind panic myself.” – Rupert Giles

8 “Since the picture you just painted means that I will never touch food of any kind again, you’ll just have to pick it up yourself.” – Rupert Giles

9 "With all the rubbish people keep sticking in my head, it's a wonder that there's room for my brain." – Spike

10 "Oh, I don't know. Looking in the mirror every day and seeing nothing there...it's an overrated pleasure.” – Angel

11 "Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping, waiting, and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir. Open it's jaws, and howl. It speaks to us, guides us. Passion rules us all, and we obey. What other choice do we have?" – Angel

12 "Anyway, for real now, I'm gonna ask you something, and you gotta promise you'll be honest and not spare my feelings just 'cause I could kill you. You promise?" Faith

13 "You gotta give me something to do. There's no way I'm sleeping. Don't you need anyone dead? Or maimed? I can settle for maimed.” – Faith

14 "You know, I honestly don't think there's a human word fabulous enough for me.”- Glorificus

15 “I’m cookie dough. I’m not done baking. I’m not finished becoming whoever the hell it is I’m gonna turn out to be. I make it through this, and the next thing, and the next thing, and maybe one day, I turn around and realize I’m ready. I’m cookies. And then, you know, if I want someone to eat m — or enjoy warm, delicious, cookie me, then that’s fine. That’ll be then. When I’m done.” — Buffy Summers

16 “Seize the moment, ’cause tomorrow you might be dead.” — Buffy Summers

17 “The hardest thing in this world is to live in it. Be brave. Live.” — Buffy Summers

18 “No weapons. No friends. No hope. Take all that away and what’s left?” “Me.” — Angelus & Buffy Summers

19 “Don’t you have an elsewhere to be?” – Cordelia Chase

20 “God! What is your childhood trauma?!” – Cordelia Chase

21 “Gee, can you vague that up for me?” – Buffy Summers

22 “I laugh in the face of danger. Then I hide until it goes away.” – Xander Harris

23 “I don’t know what your problem is, what your issues are. But as of this moment I officially don’t care.” – Xander Harris

24 “You’re really campaigning for bitch of the year, aren’t you?” – Cordelia Chase

25 “I mock you with my monkey pants!” – Oz

26 “Funny how preparing looks an awful lot like sitting on your ass.” – Spike

27 “That’s fairly freaksome.” – Oz

28 “Do you have any tact at all?” – Giles

29 “I’ve known you for two minutes and I can’t stand you.” – Spike

30 “Great. Now I’m gonna be stuck with serious thoughts all day.” – Cordelia Chase

31 “You didn’t happen to take a lot of drugs, did you?” – Willow

32 “I’ve seen honest faces…they usually come attached to liars.” – Willow

33 “Can I be blind, too?” – Xander

34 “Gee, I hope I’m not interrupting anything really depressing.” – Riley

35 “And you just accepted that? I only said that because I thought that’s what you wanted to hear.” – Anya

36 “This is the crack team that foils my every plan? I am deeply shamed.” – Spike

37 “We’ve got to face it, we’ve changed. Well, not you—you’re still sadistic and self-centered.” – Giles

38 “Sometimes the most adult thing you can do is ask for help when you need it.” – Giles

39 “Did everybody have their Crazy Flakes today?” – Xander

40 “Do you love me?” “What?” “Do you?” “I love you. I don't know if I trust you.” “Maybe you shouldn't do either.” “Maybe I'm the one who should decide!” — Angel & Buffy

41 “Six a.m.!" NAME cried. "I know that's a number on my clock, but I've never actually been awake to personally witness it!” — Xander

42 “Bored now.” — Vampire Willow

43 “We’ll go be heroes.” — Spike

44 “You have a plan?” “I am the plan.” — Giles & Buffy

45 "Strong is fighting. It's hard and it's painful, and it's every day. It's what we have to do. And we can do it together." — Buffy

46 "I make it through this and the next thing and the next thing, and maybe one day I turn around and realize I'm ready." — Buffy

47 "You have to take care of each other. You have to be strong. NAME, the hardest thing in this world is to live in it. Be brave. Live, for me." — Buffy

48 "Make your choices. Are you ready to be strong?" — Buffy

49 “Weird love’s better than no love.” — Buffy

50 “The who having wha with huh?” — Buffy

51 “Whatever you choose, you’ve got my support. Just think of me as… as your… You know, I’m searching for supportive things and I’m coming up all bras. So, something slightly more manly, think of me as that.” – Xander

52 "A lot of things that seem strong and good and powerful, they can be painful." Angel

53 "To forgive is an act of compassion, NAME. It's-it's... it's not done because people deserve it. It's done because they need it." — Giles

54 "In the end, we all are who we are, no matter how much we may appear to have changed." — Giles

55 "I don't have time for vendettas. The mission is what matters." — Buffy

56 "I don't want to protect you from the world. I want to show it to you." — Buffy

57 "Make your choice. Are you ready to be strong?" — Buffy

58 "Recognizing power in another does not diminish your own." — Joss Whedon

59 “Out. For. A. Walk… Bitch.” — Spike

60 “You can’t see the stars, love. That’s the ceiling. Also, it’s day.” — Spike

61 “Is everyone here very stoned?” — Spike

62 “I feel safe with you.” [Chokes] “TAKE THAT BACK!” — Dawn & Spike

63 “I love you.” “Oh, my god.” “Hey, no. Look at me. I... love you. You're all I bloody think about... dream about. You're in my gut... my throat... I'm drowning in you, NAME. I'm drowning in you.” — Spike & Buffy

64 “Just... give me something. A crumb, the barest smidgen. Tell me maybe, someday there's a chance” “NAME ... the only chance you had with me was when I was unconscious.” “Oh, wha-“ [screams, then shouts] “What the bleeding hell is wrong with you bloody men/women? What the hell does it take? Why do you bitches torture me?” “Which question do you want me to answer first?” — Spike & Buffy

65 “You can't deny it. There's something between us.” “Loathing. Disgust.” — Spike & Buffy

66 “Could do without the laugh track, NAME.” “But it's so funny. I knew... before you did. I knew you loved the NAME. The pixies in my head whispered it to me.” — Spike & Drusilla

67 “Damn right I’m impure! I’m as impure as the driven yellow snow.” — Spike

68 “I love you.” “No, you don’t. But thanks for saying it.” — Spike & Buffy

69 “This with you, it’s wrong. I know it. I’m not a complete idiot.” — Spike

70 “You always hurt the ones you love, pet.” — Spike

71 "When I say ‘I love you,’ it’s not because I want you or because I can’t have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are." — Buffy

72 "I’m just gonna go home, lie down, and listen to country music. The music of pain." — Buffy

73 "I have feelings for you. I do. But it's not love. I could never trust you enough for it to be love." — Buffy

74 "Weird love's better than no love." — Buffy

75 “People don’t fall in love with what’s right in front of them. People want the dream — what they can’t have. The more unattainable, the more attractive.” — Buffy

76 "Trust is for old marrieds, NAME. Great love is wild and passionate and dangerous. It burns and consumes." “Until there's nothing left. Love like that doesn't last." — Spike & Buffy

77 "This isn't some fairy tale. When I kiss you...you don't wake up from a deep sleep and live happily ever after" — Angel

78 "I love you. I try not to, but I can't stop" — Angel

79 "If I may suggest, ‘This time it's personal.’ I mean, there's a reason why it's a classic." —Oz

80 "Well, to the casual observer, it would appear that you're trying to make your friend NAME jealous, or even the score, or something. And...that's on the empty side. See, in my fantasy, when I'm kissing you, you're kissing me. It's okay, I can wait." — Oz

81 "NAME’s our friend...except I don't like him/her.” — Xander

82 "What am I gonna do? I think about sex all the time! Sex ... Help! Four times five is thirty ... five times six is thirty-two ... Naked girls. Naked women ... Naked NAME ... Oh, stop me!" — Xander

83 "Man, NAME! My whole life just flashed before my eyes. I gotta' get me a life!" — Xander

84 “NAME. You're really campaigning for bitch-of-the-year, aren't you?” “As defending champion, you nervous?” — Cordelia & Buffy

85 "Tact is just not saying true stuff. I'll pass." — Cordelia

86 “Oh please. Like shame is something to be proud of.” — Cordelia

87 “I’m going to give you some advice: get over it.” — Cordelia

88 “Oh, and you’re welcome.” — Cordelia

89 “I’m not a sniveling little cry-NAME. I’m the nastiest guy/girl in PLACE history. I take crap from no one.” — Cordelia

90 “I think it. I say it. It’s my way.” — Cordelia

91 "I don't like spiders, okay? Their furry bodies, and their sticky webs, and what do they need all those legs for anyway? I'll tell you - for crawling across your face in the middle of the night." — Willow

92 "I don't want danger. Big 'no’ to danger.” — Willow

93 "Let's get this straight. I don't understand it. I don't wanna' understand it. You have gross emotional problems. And things are not okay between us." — Willow

94 "NAME, I got so lost." "I found you. I will always find you." — Tara & Willow

95 "But you like him/her, and when you think about him/her, you get that good down-low tickle, right?" — Faith

96 "You hurt me, I hurt you. I'm just a little more efficient." — Faith

97 "Just relax ... and take off your pants." — Faith

98 "I am, you know." “What?" “Yours." — Tara & Willow

99 "I don't have time for bondage fun." - Buffy

100 “It's fine, I don't need to be snuggled.” — Willow

#buffy prompts #buffy quotes #btvs #writing prompts #dialogue prompts #drabble prompts #buffy summers #angel #cordelia chase #rupert giles #xander harris #willow rosenberg #faith #spike #quaratine sucks and making these keeps my mind busy #i live in covid 19 hell

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prose-for-hire · 3 years

Text

Smile, though your heart is breaking

Pairing: Bi!Cordelia Chase x fem!reader; Xander Harris x Cordelia Chase; Xander x fem!reader (familial/platonic)

Request: hi! i already requested some cordy x reader but i have another idea, if i may! could i have a fic where reader is Xander’s sister, and she walks in on them kissing. reader has a crush on cordy and xander knows this. cue angst and sibling fights 😭!

Requested by: Anon

You had a crush on Cordy. You had played it off as silly and fleeting at first, but as you became closer friends it grew.

She was the reason you realised that you liked women. Discovered and began to love yourself and your sexuality. She was such a gift to you and yet she never knew.

A while after, you told Xander about your sexuality. He was shocked, struggling to comprehend it but he held you in a hug. Showing you that you would always be his sister, even if he was still coming to terms with your news himself.

Eventually you came out to the others. Everyone except Cordy. You weren’t prepared for her not to want to be your friend anymore. You were scared of the rejection. You adored her so much, you were happy with platonic so long as you could be close with her.

The others supported you and those that were unsure at first slowly got more used to it. They loved you, you were such a good friend, a big part of your close-knit little group. Things were going well.

Months later, as you sat on the bleachers with Xander and your friends watching a school football game, he turned to look at you and saw you staring at the cheerleaders.

“Stare much?” He muttered.

“I was trying to, um, pick up the routine” You offered, smiling at him.

“Oh yeah, ‘course. You’re so gay, y/n” He joked, showing how far he had come. How much more comfortable he was with you. He was the only one allowed to tease you though, if anyone else did he got really annoyed.

“Shut up, Xander” You shoved his shoulder and he mock-surrendered. The others all knew now and smiled along with your sibling squabbling.

When the game was over, you and your friends all walked back together. Buffy, your brother, Willow and Cordelia walked with you towards your respective homes. You were in good spirits, it was a rare night where there were no demons or anything. You could just relax and have a nice time.

You lit up when Cordy specifically moved through your little crowd to walk beside you. You giggled together and she gave you one of her pom-poms to hold as you walked almost completely in-step. She spoke to you a lot nicer than she did with anyone else, you were probably the one Scooby that could claim that you were genuinely good friends with her.

She offered you a lift back home in her car that she had parked a few blocks away because so many people were parked in the usual lot. You declined, starting to get nervous that she would find you really lame. Not to mention Xander would have to come too and they just got into a insult-slinging contest when they were both together.

Cordy looked a little disappointed but shrugged and waved goodbye before getting into her car. You regretted it instantly. You could have given Xander the code and told him to walk, but he probably would have insisted to come in the car just to annoy you.

You watched her drive away before you realised that she had left you with the pompom and you smiled down at it. It was like she trusted you. You had a piece of her to take home with you. You smiled the entire way home and Xander thought you had gone mad. Later in the evening, you decided to admit that you were crushing on her. Really hard.

“I think I’m in love” You whispered to Xander, in case anyone else was in the house and could hear through walls. You were both brushing your teeth, a little tradition you had left over from when you were growing up. You used to do everything together.

“Oh yeah? Poor girl” Your brother teased. You rolled your eyes and spat into the basin.

“I’m being serious! I wanna hold her hand and touch her face and-” you started to stare dreamily off into the distance before he interrupted.

“Please say somethin’ normal like have sex with her”

“I want to cherish her, hold her! Tell her that I love her” You frowned at him for being crude. You wanted a love story with her, she was so special to you.

“Who is she then?” Xander asked while the toothbrush was still in his mouth.

“Cordelia” You smiled.

“Not the devil in designer boots!” he was genuinely surprised at this.

“She’s not like that!” You insisted and he gave you a look before you left him to go to bed. He continued to tease you mercilessly about it for the rest of the week. You wished you hadn’t said anything, Xander had never really been a fan of Cordelia.

Although, what you didn’t realise was that somewhere after you had revealed your crush on Cordy, Xander and her had started to steamily make-out in secret. Whenever they got the chance. Today, it had been in a deserted art classroom.

You had been sent there to steal some paper for Giles for the library. There was an inter-department free-for-all on paper and Giles was currently losing the battle.

You opened the door, your intuition giving you a bad feeling. But you walked in anyway. Just in time to see your brother sticking his tongue down Cordy’s throat.

“Oh” Was all you said before you backed away, slammed the door and ran. Tears blurred your eyes as you sprinted, letting your legs take you as far away as you could.

The pair sprung apart immediately. They walked around everywhere looking for you. They squabbled and almost bit each other’s heads off over it. Neither of them had ever wanted you to see that, for very different reasons.

Eventually, when they had stopped an entire football practice by shouting at each other in the middle of the pitch they decided it was better if they split up and looked for you.

Xander found you in the late afternoon, sobbing into a book. You had made your way back to the library after hiding in the bathrooms for most of the day.

You had decided to cry in a change of scenery. Giles had insisted you really didn’t need to be there researching but you said you wanted to help. Or, he thought that’s what you said he couldn’t really hear over all the crying noises.

You were heartbroken. Twice over.

Giles had tried twice to take the book you were leaning over, he wanted to save the pages from water damage. But you had insisted on helping and he didn’t want to make you cry harder. He had retired in his little adjoining office. Crying made him uncomfortable and he was fond of you which made him feel worse for you.

“Y/n! God, I’ve been looking everywhere!” Xander said. As if he didn’t have a care in the world. You stood up, closing the book shut with a soggy snap. Giles took his glasses off and cleaned them, he wanted to come and give Xander a piece of his own mind once you had explained what had happened. However, as you started to speak, he knew you could handle your brother.

“You knew how I feel about her! You knew and you still-” You tried to calm yourself down, but your next sentence came out angrier and even louder, “You don’t even like each other for fuck sake!” Your voice echoed around the empty library.

“Woah, hey, y/n calm down” he said, waving both of his hands out to try and get you to be quieter. He didn’t want people to know why you were shouting. He was embarrassed. It made you feel even worse.

“Are you kidding?! Calm-?” Your temper was rising and you didn’t know if your relationship with him was going to survive this, “You know how much I like her and you just let me talk about it over and over like some idiot! All the while you were kissing her behind my back!”

“Y/n, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t even know it was that serious” Xander shrugged, but he did feel guilty. But he would have done it again, he knew it. Kissing her was fun.

He did become more guilty, especially so when Cordy had explained to him that she was bisexual and he had neglected to tell you. Which, on one hand of course it wasn’t his place but on the other he had done this for entirely selfish reasons.

“You liar! You’re so selfish Xander Harris! I hate you!” You screamed, shoving him away when he tried to rest a hand on your elbow.

You felt so betrayed. You were disappointed in him. He was supposed to be family. Your own brother. He supported you but only so long as it benefitted him. He loved you, but he still whether intentionally or not blocked you from even trying to date the woman you were interested in.

You stormed off, barely missing that you passed Cordelia in the corridor. She had heard everything. But you had tears in your eyes, blurring your vision. You needed to get out of there.

You stayed at Willow’s. You told her everything and Willow explained what she had heard from Xander. Your best friend was completely on your side.

She told you a secret that night, one you kept hidden from the others until she was ready. You bonded over the things you had been hiding. But, you weren’t so sure your affection for Cordelia was hidden anymore.

This was confirmed to you when Willow came up to her room and told you that you had a visitor. You frowned, not sure who it could be. You skipped down the stairs, having put yourself in a better mood with your best friend by your side.

But you stopped as you descended, and you swear your heart did too when you saw her standing there. The light hit her face perfectly, she was glowing. As always.

She smiled, shakily. The corners of her eyes crinkled in that way you adored when she was truly happy. But, why would she be happy to see you? After everything she had found out.

“Cor, what are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to see how you were doing. Is that a crime?” She said a little more half-hearted than she usually would. She seemed almost nervous to face you.

“No, except you did once say that if you were ever seen dead in whatever frumpy bungalow that willow lived in-”

“I know what I said, I didn’t really mean it. They’re just words” She shrugged, interrupting you. She forgot half of the mean things she said sometimes.

“Okay…” You said a little awkwardly. You knew that she knew. So, you thought it better to just let her speak. It was one of her favourite hobbies, after all. A hobby you usually loved, she turned insults into an art form.

“I’m here because-” She took a deep breath, this was so important to her she couldn’t get it wrong, “Because I like women. Uh, but mostly I like you.”

“You… like me? Is this some kind of sick joke?”

“No! I only- I know this makes me look so totally heinous but I only got close with Xander because I wanted to get close to… you”

“You got bored of one sibling and wanted to hop onto the next? I don’t think that I’m comfortable with that” You explained truthfully. It was weird to you.

It was all you had ever wanted her to say, but it was still just so alien to you at the moment. As if you were dreaming. You were ten seconds away from pinching yourself because it felt too good to be true.

“I just wanted you to know, I had nothing to lose anymore. I broke it off with him as soon as I heard what you said” She explained, referring to hearing the way you felt.

“I-I need some time” you explained, your thoughts still spinning so fast around your head that you were starting to get dizzy.

“Anything, for you” Cordy nodded her voice barely above a whisper as she opened her arms to you. You almost fainted in shock, bowling her over as you embraced her. She wrapped her arms around you, inhaling happily.

She had wanted this for so long and you never even knew. She had stolen glances when you weren’t looking. Watched you from afar and imagined detailed fantasies of being close to you. Perhaps even kissing you. She had even gotten way too close to your brother in an attempt to learn more about you. She had been lonely, it was her only explanation.

You moved from the close hug and she wasn’t able to stop herself from grinning. You wanted to trust her, but you weren’t there yet. You needed a change to sort through your own feelings.

She turned and left and you watched her go. Things weren’t great with your brother. Your friendship group was fractured. But as you watched her turn back and wave at you, you had something special starting.

It started small in the back of your mind, but it was slowly growing. Hope.

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