#Rupert Giles fanfiction

[darling-i-read-it]

Would you be willing to maybe write Giles headcanons from btvs. Like about his love languages and how it would go? Much love 💕! Please and thank you ☺️.

angel? spike? no. giles. it'll always be giles. (ps thank you for this request im knee deep in watching buffy so this is on my mind lots)

this is love language headcanons or alternatively: different scenarios in giles house. (gentle warning for some insinuating jokes lol)

acts of service

Giles appreciates when other people do things without him having to ask. He's very used to be in charge and likes that position; it makes him feel important

but goddamnit it sure would be nice for someone else to shoulder the weight. it would be double nice if it was someone other than buffy who also never gets a damn break.

it also doesn't have to be big things. Setting the tea bags out for him, buying the kind he likes when he's low.

Bringing him books you think he'll like or putting away the ones he had left out.

This also goes for things like helping research or helping Buffy if she needs it. A lot of his life is surrounding helping her so if you help as well it takes some of the pressure of his shoulders.

Giles ran his hand through his hair as he left the bedroom. You had stayed over the night before but weren't in bed when his alarm clock went off. He looked around the corner, seeing only himself in the mirror coming down the stairs. He wanted to call out your name but didn't, out of sheer exhaustion.

When he emerged into the living room he could hear you. You were in the kitchen, gently humming to yourself. His eyes opened wide, the sleep leaving them, when he saw you.

"Mornin sleepy head. You forget to turn your alarm off?" He gave you a confused look. "It's a holiday today. No school." He looked back up the stairs, trying to find what day it was in his head.

"Why are you awake then?"

"Couldn't sleep." His eyes drifted down to your hands. You were making breakfast. You had pancakes on the counter already made. Bacon was sizzling.

"Breakfast?"

"Figured it was the least I could do. You were so generous last night," you teased. He smiled, shaking his head.

"This..this is a lot of bacon." There was a whole stack already made.

"I figured your scoobies were going to be stopping by sometime this morning with a problem. Don't want them to starve." His eyes floated to your face with the most adoring look. You met his gaze. "You okay?"

"I love you. I love you so much."

quality time

Giles doesn't have a lot of free time, at least not in the first few seasons. He was technically always running around and doing something with the library or with Buffy or with the council. Constantly stuck within a losing battle of his free time and his sanity.

Spending all the time he could with those he loves and appreciates is important to him. He attempts to make time.

It's just...not easy.

It isn't actually his fault necessarily but yeah...he can barely finish a book for pleasure.

But when he has that time he does not like to waste it.

"I've taken the phone off the hook," Giles announced. You looked up from the couch where you were sitting. He looked quite proud. "Buffy is patrolling with Angel. She'll be safe for the night."

"You don't have to convince me," you told him.

"I know. I was convincing me." You gave him a sly smile. He sat down beside you. He had a stack of books in front of him on the coffee table. You were cuddled up in the corner of the couch with a blanket and a mug. "Has your tea gone cold?"

You shook your head, no.

"Good." He picked up the stack of books and rested them on his lap. You watched him with big heart eyes. He was about to talk about something he was extremely passionate about. You were excited to listen.

"Which one are you going to read to me tonight Rupert?"

"I have options."

"Naturally."

physical touch

we all saw the episode where they reverted to their teenage selves

growing up, Giles had the tendency to be handsy in relationships. That wasn't something that exactly faded away as he grew older, he just became slightly better at hiding it

It was something you were surprised about when you started a relationship with him but it was something that was simple to ease into. It became natural fast

He likes to have his hands on you whenever you're alone. the whole time. all the time.

in public he's okay, he's sophisticated, he's borderline shy/timid. He does not want to traumatize the children he is constantly around. Even when Xander makes joke after joke after joke after jo-

Will pull you aside privately if he feels the need to though. Stern talking to. You look too good. That's literally not his fault.

but ALONEEEEEE

"Rupert," you muttered. He had his arm wrapped around you tightly from behind as you sat on the couch. He had his book up but was holding it with one hand. Everytime he turned the page he would set the book down and turn it so he didn't have to take his hand off you.

"Yes?" he questioned. You looked up at him. You sat between his legs, your back flush with his chest.

"I need to go to the bathroom," you said. He raised his eyebrows, floating his gaze back to his book.

"Can it wait?" You laughed.

"No." He let out a hearty sigh as though you had just told him grave news.

He moved his arm off you so you could get up.

"Hurry back," he said. You smiled, face scrunching. The warmth in your chest expanded out towards to your face as you walked away.

"I'm hurrying."

[lokidokieokie]

Accidental Slumber

Summary: After a long night of researching, you and Giles fall asleep in the library.

Pairing: Rupert Giles x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): cuteness overload, friends to lovers type sitch, cuddling, idiots in love, mutual pining, lemme know if I forgot anything

I do not own this image...credit to the original creator

The library was dimly lit, and the musty smell of ancient books filled the air. You and Giles had been researching late into the night, delving into the mysteries of an obscure demon. Exhaustion had finally caught up with both of you, and without realising it, you had drifted off to sleep.

As the sun began to rise, soft rays of light peeked through the library windows. The first sounds of footsteps echoed through the hallways, indicating the arrival of the Scooby Gang. Buffy, Willow, and Xander made their way to the library, eager to share their newfound discoveries with their mentor and the newest member of their team, you.

However, the sight that greeted them was unexpected. Their jaws dropped as they saw Giles and you, entwined in each other's arms, fast asleep on the library table. The tension in the air was palpable as they exchanged perplexed glances.

Buffy cleared her throat, breaking the silence. "Um, guys? Maybe we should give them a minute." Her tone was playful, but her eyes sparkled mischievously.

Giles, as if sensing the disturbance, pulled you closer into him; pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Willow's cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson. "Oh, yes, definitely. We can...wait outside or something."

Xander scratched the back of his head nervously. "Yeah, no problem. We'll just... be over there, pretending not to see anything." He gestured toward the bookshelves and quickly herded the others away.

Slowly, the two of you began to stir, disturbed by the hushed voices and nervous shuffling. Groggy eyes fluttered open, meeting each other in a mix of surprise and embarrassment.

"Good morning," Giles murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

You stifled a yawn, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "Morning. Did we... fall asleep here?"

Giles chuckled, his British accent adding a touch of warmth to the moment. "It appears so. Research can be quite exhausting, it seems."

As you began to sit up, Giles' arm instinctively tightened around you. His touch was gentle yet possessive, as if he never wanted to let you go. You glanced down, noticing the affectionate gesture, and couldn't help but smile.

The library doors creaked open, and the Scooby Gang tiptoed back inside, albeit less discreetly than they intended. Buffy, Willow, and Xander tried their best to hide their amusement, failing miserably.

Buffy broke the silence once more. "Well, you two sure know how to have a slumber party without inviting the rest of us."

Willow nodded, grinning ear to ear. "Yeah, we thought we'd come and join in on the cuddle-fest."

Xander nudged Buffy, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "And I even brought the popcorn, just in case."

You felt your face heat up, and Giles' cheeks tinged with a blush that matched your own. It was clear that the Scoobies were delighted to witness this unexpected moment of vulnerability between you and Giles.

Giles finally released his hold on you, running a hand through his tousled hair as he straightened himself. "Well, um... it seems we may have dozed off accidentally."

Buffy grinned playfully. "No judgment here, Giles. We just wanted to make sure you two lovebirds didn't miss out on anything important."

Willow joined in the teasing, her eyes twinkling. "Yeah, we wouldn't want any precious research time to go to waste."

Xander added with a mock-serious expression, "And if you ever need any tips on cozying up, we're here to help."

The playful banter continued, gradually easing the awkwardness. It was clear that the Scoobies were genuinely happy for you and Giles, their friendly ribbing serving as a testament to their acceptance and support.

As the laughter subsided, Giles took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. "Well, it seems we owe the nosy teenagers our gratitude for their invaluable research assistance."

Buffy grinned. "We'll take our payment in the form of a slightly less awkward group hug."

The suggestion was met with enthusiastic agreement, and soon the library was filled with warm embraces and lighthearted chatter.

In that moment, surrounded by your newfound family, you realised that accidental slumbers and shared vulnerabilities could bring people even closer together. And you couldn't have been happier to be a part of it all, entwined with Rupert Giles, the man who had stolen your heart.

A/N I love Giles 😍

[gemstone-roses]

Giles X reader

Me and @my-head-is-an-animal were talking and agreed what needed to be done about the lack of fics for Giles. So here we are.

Thankyou so much @my-head-is-an-animal for reading this over and giving me some fab advice!

Summary: Giles helps you through an anxiety attack.

Word count: 1k ish.

Warnings: contains descriptions of an anxiety attack, loneliness, vague mentions of how people and life can be unkind sometimes. Heavy hurt comfort vibes I can't stop thinking about being comforted by this man okay.

A:N- everyone experiences anxiety differently and this fic will reflect my experiences, but I hope this brings comfort to anyone reading this, as it did for me when writing it. As always 18+ only thankyou! This took SO long to write so please be nice and kind thanku 😊.

Giles knew immediately he liked you. There was something about you, something, endearing.

You walked in one evening after seeing the assistant required poster on the town noticeboard and when Giles had asked what qualifications you had you responded simply and almost nervously, 'I love books'.

He'd held out his hand and chuckled 'your hired'.

You'd become fast friends with the British librarian ever since. Helping him get books for his students… and the buffy gang, you soon became familiar with the layout of the library.

You spent your evenings curled up in the chair, books piled lazily on the floor, and before long you didn't even need to hesitate to remember the shelf when giles or willow asked for a specific book.

You stayed late most nights, Giles would turn off the main lights and make you a cup of tea while you read and he researched. He looked adorable with his glasses hanging out his mouth when he was thinking .He'd hand you the steaming mug, saucer too, because he's Giles, with a smile each time.

It's been a busy week, every night you've stayed late with giles and buffy and co to help deal with some demon or other.

Finally, the demon was dealt with and buffy and everyone left to have some sort of socialising after a night of battling. You just want to curl up with a book, you've felt off all day and nothing has quite snuffed out that feeling. Usually when you felt like this you'd curl up under the thickest blankets you could find in your place and you'd fiddle with the chain on your neck.

It was a simple piece of jewellery, the small circle hanging in the middle of the chain contained your favourite quote from one of your favourite books in tiny writing. It brought you comfort whenever your hands reached for it. The words brought you comfort.

You'd always found more comfort and affection in books than in people. In the past, life or rather, some people in it, had not been kind to you.

And when that happened, you found your escape in books.

"Tea?" Giles asks, sighing, sending a small smile your way.

"Mm no thanks" you shook your head. You shivered slightly.

"Are you alright?" Giles asks, eyebrows raised, you never turn down a cup of tea from him, it worried him slightly, but he pressed on.

"Mm, just tired" you assured him with a small smile.

Giles is unconvinced.

"Right" he says, and he does that little nod that he does when he's not really paying attention when he's researching and someone talks to him, except this time he is paying attention.

"I'll just put these books back and then I'll get off for the night" you say, your not looking at him though, almost past him. standing up and gathering the books with one hand, the other hand wraps around the chain hanging round your neck, twisting it round your fingers.

"Y/n?" Giles asks, and you're far too concentrated on holding onto the pile of books in your hand you don't notice he's right in front of you.

"Giles" you say, finally looking up at him, your sure that his piercing but concerned gaze can see right through you, right through to your heart hammering in your chest.

Giles takes the books out of your hand gently and places them on top of the shelf.

His hand comes back and lingers on your arm.

"What's the matter?" And he asks so softly you think you might break down then.

Your hand goes back to fiddle with the chain around your neck, it's the only thing you know for a fact brings you even an ounce of comfort ,but Giles reaches for your hand instead, pulling it away, he closes his hand, which is much bigger than yours, around it.

It's a gesture your unfamiliar with.

"I- I'm fine" you whisper

Giles frowns, his hand still holding yours.

"It's alright" he whispers, and the hand that's on your arm squeezes

You close your eyes and let out a shaky breath.

"Hey look at me" Giles says softly.

"m sorry, I don't, i cant- " you go dizzy, your breathing becomes faster, your head spins.

"Breathe,y/n" Giles says. His tone is laced with concern as he looks at you, your chest heaves as he moves his hand to your chin.

"Y/n, i got you" he says softly, his hand swipes at a tear running down your cheek.

"No" you whisper, and Giles frowns again but this time its because he can see you're not used to this kind of… affection, of this kind of.. comfort. And Giles feels a sudden pang of sadness at that,and then an overwhelming urge to make sure you never feel so alone again.

"Come here" he whispers, pulling you into his tight embrace.

You wrap your arms around him like your clinging to a life raft.

"There you go, I got you love" he comforts.

Giles holds you until you've stopped shaking.

"What can I do?" He asks after a moment, still not letting you go.

"im cold" you whisper,

"and tired" you added.

"Come on" he says, ushering you over to the couch in his little office.

Giles shrugs off his jacket and places it over you, when he's satisfied your sufficiently tucked in with his jacket, he sits in the corner of the couch, pulling you close to him.

you bring your knees up to your chest as you curl into him.

His fingers move slowly up and down your arm, comforting. Safe.

"Giles?" You whisper, and he stops and moves slightly.

"Hmm?" He says

"Thankyou" you say softly, and you wrap your arm around his waist and drift off in his embrace.

[evieelyzabethh]

Hi me again! 👋🏻

I was wondering if you had time maybe to write a small fic (or one shot whatever you’re comfortable with) where the reader is Buffy’s cousin ( also library assistant or whatever you would like ) and the reader and Giles are in a secret relationship ( maybe smut?? ) and they’re navigating that and Buffy finds out and it’s this whole thing. If you’re busy I totally understand or if you just don’t want to, again it’s okay. I really do enjoy your work 🥰.

Not Unavailable, More Unimpressed

pairing(s): Giles x Summers!Reader

summary: what started out as a short term fling has gotten increasingly complicated when the reciprocity and sincerity of feelings is called into questions. pt.1 of ???

warnings: smut, fem!reader, drinking, hand job, a bit of breast worship, clothed grinding, riding, slight choking, age gap (Giles is in his mid to late 40's, reader is in her late 20s/ early 30s), reader has nipple piercings bc I said so and I think they are hot

an: This fic will contain smut so be warned. You are responsible for your own media consumption, read at your own risk.

The man at the bar was a mystery to you. He didn't quite fit into the bar atmosphere. He wasn't one of the barely legals or illegals who snuck in eager to drink, he wasn't one of the old guys who came to hit on the bottle girls, he didn't smell like a smoker or shoot whiskey like a drinker. He was also British, something that left an odd taste in your mouth.

You couldn't call yourself a regular here, more often than not you found yourself at the Bronze, purely per Buffy's request, which had okay enough booze and slightly better music. Here, some place clearly meant for an older crowd called Jack's, is where the older man sat. Alone, he sat at the far corner, sometimes looking longingly at the stage like he was a performer. He didn't look like a performer though.

He was older than you. He was greyed out and looked like he came from when TVs were still in sepia tones. He looked like Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mockingbird, like he was always a moment away from scolding someone. It didn't help that he always looked tired, like a lot of his age came from stress. If that was the case, it still didn't make sense as to why he chose a bar to be his spot to wind down.

It was loud. Not in the way that the Bronze was, a type of loud filled with life. A loud spurred by rowdy souls, people who couldn't let loose at home, so they came to one of the only shitty bars in the small town to drink a shitty beer and watch their favorite sports team lose. Not to mention the countless barely legals who got into fights with the bartenders after they failed to get their underage friends a drink. Jack's wasn't a place to have fun, it was the place to avoid doing something reckless during your midlife crisis. You were only there because of convenience, and after being there for a half hour were already beginning to get a migraine.

Job hunting was rough. When you moved to Sunnydale on behalf of your aunt, she offered to let you stay under her roof, but being a grown woman who got up to grown woman shenanigans, it would be more than distasteful to do it in Joyce's home. You were lucky enough that the housing market was great in the area, with all the supernatural happenings so one chose to move to Sunnydale, but that still didn't mean that a decent looking apartment wouldn't cost you a nice sum of money every month.

I could just work here, was your first thought. You were once a young college student also desperate for money, you had bartended, you could always go back if you lacked self-respect. You had a degree dammit, sure you didn't have a doctorate, but you shouldn't need one to get a nice quiet desk job. Neither option was all that fulfilling, but something told you that bartending in a town when demons just roamed the streets didn't seem like a great idea.

The mystery man looked like he had a nice job. Maybe a nice car. Possibly a nice house. He looked financially stable, and fuck was that hot. What did he do? What was there to do in Sunnydale? You could ask.

You looked at his hands to see if there was a ring or any indication that there was someone waiting for him wherever he came from. Maybe a picture of a kid, maybe a photo of a significant other. Nothing. Nothing.

You slinked over to the seat beside him, not meaning to make your presence immediately known yet he still looked up as he felt the heat of someone else beside him. His glasses perched low on his nose and his grey hair tussled. His eyes were green. He was pretty.

"Hello?" He looked at you confused. He took a moment to drink you in. Younger, gorgeous, clearly bold.

"Hello."

"Are you waiting for someone?" You shook your head.

"No. Are you?" and he'd be lying if he said he was.

☽✯☾

"You know, I don't do this often." He said between the rare breaths that were allowed in between suffocating kisses. Whatever he took up in his free time must've involved a great workout regimen. His hand sat comfortably at your neck, and you basked in the warmth that it provided in his cold apartment. His other held your cheek, his thumb mindless rubbing against it in a way that was hypnotizing. It almost had a numbing affect, your skin not being able to get past the feeling making your brain pause as he kissed your lips.

He tasted like fine wine. He smelled like old books. You half expected him to quote a classic at you, you didn't know him well enough to gauge if he was the type. His tongue contradicted his previous statement. These weren't the kisses of a man out of practice, that or he did it so much in his youth it was impossible to forget. Something like riding a bike.

"For a man who doesn't do this often, you're mighty good at it." He smirked; you could feel it against your lips. You wished you could see it, but he had the lights in his bedroom turned low and you weren't sure you wanted to open your eyes in the fear that you were dreaming. It was warm, he was so warm. So warm it was noticeable when his lips left yours and moved to your neck, hovering under your ears. His breath fanning against your neck was enough to send shivers down your spine.

"You haven't even seen how good I am, darling." The pet name alone made you weak in the knees, but you would be damned if you swooned at someone called you darling. Granted, you couldn't help how your mouth went dry or how your pussy clenched at nothing, but he didn't need to know that. He was going to find out, but he can find out later when your lust ridden brain stopped listening to reason and pride.

"Show me, then."

He dipped his head to kiss you, grabbing a fistful of your hair to tip your head back and you let him, grabbing on to his broad shoulders to stabilize yourself. You were pressed between the wall and him, pressing him even closer as you fisted his shirt to pull him closer, but he was hesitant to oblige. He was teasing, you could tell by the way he smiled into your kisses, pulling away like he needed air while you chased after his lips.

"You having issues breathing, old man?" The hand at your neck squeezed, not enough to choke you but enough to make your head even dizzier. His other hand travelled to any piece of skin he could get his hands on. Feather light, his fingers ran across your arms, then your collarbones, before knocking the straps of your dress off your shoulder. His kisses moved slow, his tongue damn near like languid waves that you were somehow managing to drown in.

Still, you chased after him, and still, he ran. His lips ran to the corner of your mouth, to the skin of your neck his hand didn't engulf, to where your strap lay useless. His kisses scorched your otherwise cold skin, his mouth sucking hickeys and then immediately soothing them.

He was so soft. Soft in how his hands found the back of your dress, soft in how his eyes looked into yours, asking permission without even saying a word, soft like the way the fabric slipped of your body and onto the floor. Soft like the bed he laid you on. Even soft in the way he continued to tease you, his knee meeting the crotch of your panties and him meticulously unsnapping your bra as if you couldn't tell he knew how to do it.

He then paused for a minute, finally coming across something he hadn't experienced before. His fingers took the ball of cool metal between his fingers, and you moaned at how it pulled ever so slightly at your nipple.

"What are these?" You chuckled.

"I got 'em pierced ages ago. Drunk night out with a few friends my senior year." He continued to play with the metal ball, well aware of how you keened and ground yourself into his knee.

"So, I can play with them." Fuck. It was how he said it. Like a nerd you might've messed around with in school because he was a good tutor but also because he had that nerdy charm to him. Like playing with your body was a game of Operations he had been so eager to play and was determined to get good at. It was easy to imagine Giles like that, fogged up glasses, eyes concentrated and focused on figuring out what buttons to press to get a prize. There was the curiosity in his lust-blown eyes, and in your lust addled brain you were fine with being his toy.

"Please do." He didn't need to be told twice. Avid learner he was, he went in, his large hands easily covering your breasts. His fingers pulled at the bars, drawing whimpers out of you the more he prodded. It wasn't too rough, Giles was too soft to ever be truly rough, but the feeling of his gaze, your clothed pussy rubbing against his soft slacks, and his large hands over your chest was getting a bit much. And he hadn't even put his mouth on you yet.

It didn't take long for him to realize the feeling of your pierced tits in his mouth was one of the best things he's felt, and it felt even better for you. A wet patch had long since been growing and he certainly felt it too, it egged him on. He wasn't even in you, he hadn't even tasted you, and you were almost there. You were so close.

You grabbed at anything you could, his shirt, his sheets, his hands that held yours as you rocked yourself onto his knee until you saw stars. Then he grabbed your face and swallowed your moans as he kissed and kissed you until you came down. A moment of clarity hit you, and you pulled on his shirt. "Off." you told him simply, and he obliged. You smashed your lips into his, peeling off button after button until the shirt was thrown to the side and his undershirt beneath was discarded with even less care.

"Issues with patience, darling?" You shook your head.

"Not fair I'm practically naked and you were fully clothed." His retort was cut off by your lips as you sat up to meet him, his hands absent-mindedly finding your breasts and yours finding his belt and making quick work of it before he even realized what was happening. You kissed him through it, anyway, still chasing after him as he pulled away to curse at the feeling of your hand around his dick.

"Gods." he muttered, words tumbling out clumsily as you rubbed the tip of his cock. He never had the control to pull away fast enough for an adequate breather, just a second to get a breath out and pray. You were flattered. His hand seemed like it wanted to swat you away, but it didn't have the strength to betray his brain like that. It felt good. Too good. So good he couldn't even think, and Giles never stopping thinking and now he was drawing blanks. He was sure you had mocked him once or twice, which went through one ear and out the other.

He caught himself thrusting into your hand before he caught himself, grabbing your wrist. "Hang on." He choked out, but you didn't listen. Your hand moved up and down his shaft terribly slow, and it was almost worse. Watching you spit on your hand and collect pre-cum from his tip and spread it like some sick simulation of what it would be like to be in you, and yet he couldn't help but watch his hand completely cover yours as you pumped him. Don't cum yet.

"I said hang on." His breath was ragged and his voice was deep. This time he meant it. "There are condoms in the top left drawer. Take one out for me, love." And you did as such. Did it with so much assurance that you slid it on without him even needing to ask you. Slid your panties off and sank down so fast neither one of you was ready.

You both sat there a moment, feeling your nerve endings tingle and burn, like you were both on fire. But you were on fire together. Like you could feel every atom in your body, like it had all been reduced to nothing but water, you were both feeling everything and anything yet absolutely nothing at the same time. So much feeling any nuance got lost in the moment. Just being there, breaths away, with a complete stranger you were sleeping with because he was pretty and looked financially stable.

You kissed him, a real kiss. Spontaneous. One with a feeling neither one of you could decipher and both assumed meant nothing. You rode it out until you had both exhausted each other, you falling on top of him and him catching you.

"Would you like to use my shower before you go? Did you need a ride home?" You cheesed to yourself. And they say chivalry is dead.

"Yeah, that would be nice." You had already rolled out of his bed in search of your dress and waiting for feeling to return to your legs. "I never got your name."

"Giles. Rupert Giles." You giggled as you shook of your dress after picking it up from the floor. Sounds about right.

"And what do you do for a living, Mr. Giles."

"Do these things typically end in interviews?" He made no effort to get out of his bed, he even had the decency to turn away while you get dressed as if he wasn't just balls deep in you.

"No, but I am new to town and would like to not be broke."

"I'm a librarian." Of course, you are. "Have you any interest in literature?" You did. You were a nerd. You had tried convincing yourself you weren't for years, but you majored in philosophy and minored in classic literature; and no one likes philosophy majors.

"I dabble a bit. Got a degree from all the reading I did if that counts." He looked at you like he knew you were trying to make yourself sound cooler. Nerd calls to nerd.

"Well, plenty of places are always hiring. The turnover rate is quite atrocious here." And even new to town, you believed it.

"I just might."

☽✯☾

You did end applying, you even ended up getting the job. Apparently, your little cousin's high school was in desperate need of a library assistant. You also had the pleasure of freezing when you saw Giles again and watching your little cousin greet her favorite teacher.

It was almost worth it for the look on his face, though.

[vampswritings]

Giles enjoys looking into various facets of history, with the exception of his own. Ethan, thinks this is an astronomical mistake.

“Are you going to let me finish?”  Giles nods, unfortunately hanging onto every word.   “Really - figured I made it obvious, but you’ve always been thick when it comes to our little fling.” Ethan meets his eyes, like his words will cast a spell. “I missed my Ripper,” he flicks, “Is that so awful?” 

post band candy giles/ethan rammed into my head and wouldn't leave until i wrote this. i think that the notion of nostalgia and running away from problems into the past is a huge giles character trait - and i figured why not throw ethan (the literal personification of this coping mechanism) into him

[ftmshepard]

Google is trash and I don't remember the name but I read a fic ages ago on livejournal or dreamwidth or even a personal website where giles becomes a vampire after being turned by either spike or drusilla

Things I remember

-he still helps fight Glory

-he still cares for dawn

-drusilla dies and it upsets Spike and Giles

-debate over whether to give him his soul back

Does anyone know this fic, or fics like this? Please help me!!

[caricature-of-fic]

mini fic for btvs 1x04 Teacher's Pet

---

There are times when Rupert seriously, genuinely, very much questions every single life choice that led him to Sunnydale.

Not because the town is just about teeming with all sorts of demons in addition to the vampires. Not even because it is, for some reason, built on top of a hellmouth, which just seems like an irresponsible choice all around, but what can one expect. No, it’s simply that no one thought to tell him in advance that the calling as a Watcher would involve so much worrying about humans and the things they got up to.

Witches—he can deal with witches, even those whose motivations are a mystery to him. Cheerleading. Really. After all, there he may have gotten up to some thing or other in his youth that, to an outside observer, may seem just as mysteriously-motivated. Stupid, even, perhaps. Maybe even to Rupert himself, if he were to judge his past self now. Which he will not, because it bears no relevance, and he is much too busy trying to keep up with more young people than he ever expected to be responsible for.

It astounds him, on occasion, how quickly he conceded the possibility of the Slayer going to school and making friends. Then he looks at her, and it astounds him that he could ever have considered trying to keep her from it.

At the moment, the main thing that astounds him is the readiness—and enthusiasm—of one Willow Rosenberg for the committing of illegal acts. He knows her as a shy, unassuming girl trying to keep out of trouble. Apparently, trouble with the law is not as much on Willow’s radar of concerns as trouble with her peers, for she cheerfully and skilfully uses the computer to conjure coroner’s reports and teachers’ records alike. He does admire her, if he’s honest with himself. He hardly understands how to use this technology for the simplest tasks; if he were to attempt any such thing as she is doing with such casual ease, it would be embarrassing for everyone involved.

Rupert looks at her proud smile, full of innocent joy as she presents the results of her criminal activities, and vaguely hopes she will never think to look into what might be recorded of his own past.

[beatriceeverytuesday]

New fic alert!

Title: Waitress

Rating: T

Summary: Jenny Calendar is a pie-maker and waitress stuck in an unhappy marriage in a small town. Jenny finds solace in baking and dreams of winning a pie contest in a nearby city to escape her husband life. Each facing their own problems at home, Jenny and her friends support each other through the ups and downs of navigating relationships and trying to regain control of their lives.

Read it now on AO3!

[roselynnthornwood]

Author IG: roselynnthornwood_author

Support me on Patreon!

Artist IG: drea.d.art

Support her on Patreon!

[hippiegoth97]

hippiegoth97's Fic Master List

Banner by @cafekitsune

Characters/Fandoms I Currently/Will Write For

Stranger Things: Mainly Eddie Munson, but I’ll write any adult and older teen characters (portrayed at least 18+), I WILL NOT age up child characters

The X-Files: Fox Mulder

Fargo: Gator Tillman

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Giles, Spike, Angel, Drusilla, Faith, Buffy, Willow (Basically anyone except Xander, all portrayed as 18+) 

Ghostbusters: Egon Spengler

Once Upon a Time: Killian Jones, Regina Mills

Slumber Party Massacre 2: Driller Killer

Pretty in Pink: Stef McKee (18+)

Current Works

Into the Fire (Eddie Munson x Female Reader) Master List

Last Christmas (Eddie Munson x Female Reader) Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3

You’re A Winner (Gator Tillman x Female Reader)

I Want to Believe (Fox Mulder x Female Reader)

Roam Pt.2 (Rockstar Eddie Munson x Female Reader)

Diary of a Hawkins Hussy (Stranger Things x Female Reader) Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7

Be Kind, Rewind (Eddie Munson x Female Reader)

Upcoming Projects

Dream a Little Dream of Me (Driller Killer x Female Reader)

Who Ya Gonna Call? (Egon Spengler x Female Reader)

Watch Me (Giles x Female Reader)

You’ve Got Me Hooked (Killian Jones x Female Reader)

If You Leave (Stef McKee x Female Reader)

I Want to Believe Pt. 2 (Fox Mulder x Female Reader)

Requests

As you can see, I have a pretty full plate as it is. If you make a request, the most I’ll feasibly be able to do is blurbs. I may possibly do a one-shot, if the idea sparks strong inspiration in me. I’m open to most things, but there are some things I WILL NOT WRITE. I'm not shaming or judging anyone who writes/enjoys them, I'm just not comfortable writing these subjects:

Rape/Non-con (I’ll write references/flashbacks to past sexual assault if it’s beneficial to the story. But no rape fantasy)

Incest/Stepcest

Cheating (In a positive light)

Anything relating to Minors

Watersports/Scat/Vomit Kink

Omegaverse (I honestly just don’t know enough about it)

Pregnancy/Breeding Kink

Pretty much anything else is on the table, so have at it!

Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams @slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals @eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30 @jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson @sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975 @costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles (Please let me know if you ever want to be added or removed from the list!)

[darling-i-read-it]

Replacement

Rupert Giles x fem!reader, slight Wesley Wyndam-Pryce x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: younger reader (12 years younger than Giles but super legal ofc), btvs season 3 spoilers, jealousy/insecurity, drinking, light insinuation to smut 

Author’s Note: I know this is literally not on the list of things I was supposed to write and I’m going to get to the requests tomorrow I think but the fact there’s so little giles content makes me wanna DIE. anyway here’s this <3 watching buffy season 3 and feeling things for him. 

Summary: Set in season 3 when Buffy gets Wesley as the new Watcher. The reader, the assistant librarian and also Giles’ girlfriend, gets hit on a bit by Wesley and Giles gets protective™. 

Genre: mostly fluff! 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

“They’re sending in the new Watcher soon,” Rupert murmured. He was sitting on the couch in front of you. You could only see the back of his head but you could tell what kind of look he had on his face. Contempt, annoyance, some disappointment lacing his features. He had a glass in his hand, his arm over the back of the couch. He glanced back at you in the kitchen. “I fear I might be a tad unbearable for the next couple of days.” 

“You’re always unbearable,” you quipped, grabbing your own glass as you finished pouring it. “That's what I like about you.” 

You knew Giles was extremely worried about Buffy’s new Watcher. It had been the topic of conversation ever since Buffy’s test. It had also been a general point of contention; how could he let her go through that? Though now that he was being punished through various other means, you laid off on the argument. 

“Do you know who it is?” 

“No. They won’t tell me. Fear of my reproach I imagine.” He shook his head a bit. “I can’t believe they’re allowing someone else to come in after Gwendolyn Post.” You stayed silent. It was better to let him just talk through this himself, without any kind of argument or solace from you. “Buffy will never trust someone as she trusts me. Trusted me that is, I suppose. I never should have gone through with it. No, don’t say anything. I’m just conceding to your earlier point, I know.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Relax. The Watcher won’t be here tonight…” you put your hand on his arm. “So let’s not talk about him hm?” 

“You’re being suggestive. Is it because I conceded to your point?”

“One of the various reasons,” you explained. “Relax Rupert. I have no ulterior motives, I’m not a vampire, I’m not possessed. I’m just a girl in your house with some light alcoholic suggestion.” He nodded slowly. 

“You know, I don’t need that much convincing.” 

“I know.” You grabbed his drink and put it down on the coffee table. He admired you with an eyebrow raised until your phone rang. You groaned, picking it up beside the drinks. “It’s Buffy.” He let out a soft sigh. 

“Duty calls.” 

“Hey, it’s my phone. Maybe she just wants to gossip.” 

“Moments like these I remember we’re from slightly different generations.” You rolled your eyes and answered the phone. 

“12 years is not that many years. Hey Buffy.” 

“Arguing about your age difference again?” she said over the phone.

“Always. Ever the straight.” You kicked your legs up onto his lap. He grabbed his glass back from the table and took a drink. 

“I have said you have odd taste in men right?” 

“Once or twice. What can I do for you?” 

“Was gonna ask if you want to go to the Bronze with Willow and I before patrol. I fear this will be my last night Watcherless.” 

“Does she know I can hear her?” Giles questioned. You shrugged. 

“I would love to come but I think I’ve got my hands full over here. Men's feelings are hard.” 

“Tell me about it,” Buffy muttered. You could almost see her rolling her eyes over the neverending Angel ordeal. 

“You should go,” Giles said. “I’ll be fine.” “I made plans I don’t like to break,” you pouted. “Rain check Buff?”

“Sure thing.”

“Have fun.” 

“I would say you too but that brings awful images to my brain.”

-

You came into school a little bit late. You were working as library assistant, at Snyder’s hope to keep Giles the least destructive as possible. Giles woke up ungodly early and usually had several cups of coffee before you even saw him. 

You pushed open the doors to the library, holding your bag to your side. You slowed at the sight of a man you didn’t recognize by the check out desk. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to place the suit. Familiar, but foreign. The man turned around, revealing some glasses and an even looking face. 

“Good morning,” he said, just as evenly. 

“Good morning…” You craned your neck to look behind him, wondering if you had suddenly entered a world with a different librarian. 

“Are you here for the librarian? He’s out at the moment.” He stumbled over his words a bit, making you unsure of his dedication to the sentence. 

“Who are you?” He cleared his throat. 

“Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.” He offered his hand. You shook it, warily. 

“Wesley Wy-” You paused and thinned your lips. Maybe it was the British accent that gave him away or maybe it was the suit. “Are you the new Watcher?” His eyebrows raised. 

“I take it you know about the slayer” You shook your head. 

“Just a tad. I swear I’m not a threat, just a friend. Y/N.” He nodded once, looking you over. 

“What kind of friend?” You scoffed a bit. 

“You Watcher’s have a type,” you observed. 

“Hm?” 

“Where’s Rupert?” 

“Out.” 

“What was it? Westley?”

“Wesley. Wyndam-Pryce.” You nodded, pointing a finger at him. He smiled shakily, looking down. You opened your mouth to speak when the door opened again. 

“Oh man. You’ve met the new Watcher,” Buffy observed. Wesley straightened up and cleared his throat. “Getting along?” “Well,” he observed. Buffy raised an eyebrow at his stiffness and then glanced back at you. “I wonder if the Watcher’s have a book that says what kind of girl they’re allowed to go for. Maybe Giles just stuck a picture of you somewhere and this guy read it wrong.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Do you know where Rupert is?” 

“Nope. He’s not my Watcher anymore, remember?” she said, defeated. She passed you further into the room. You put a hand up in defeat. 

“He could be dying and none of us would know.” 

“I’m sure he’s alright,” Wesley promised. “Are you and Rupert…” 

“Yeah,” you said curtly. As if on cue, Giles walked into the room, holding a stack of books, looking completely in his natural habitat. “Thank God. Giles.” He halted when he caught sight of the two of you. 

“You met the replacement.” 

“I did. He’s a little stiff.” You squeezed his bicep. He watched you do it. “I was looking for you.” 

“Is everything alright?” He put the books down on the counter. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just wasn’t sure where you had run off to and I like keeping tabs.” 

“That’s unhealthy,” Buffy noted. 

“Your boyfriend is dead,” Giles retorted. She shrugged with a point taken look on her face. You turned back to him. Wesley gave a once over at the two of you. Giles had put a hand on your upper arm, a gesture that was familiar to the two of you. You took the top book off his stack. 

“Whatcha reading?”

“You’re miraculously calm.” 

“One of us has to be.” You took the book and walked over to sit beside Buffy. She was eyeing the new Watcher intensely, like the whole world could come down at her mere gaze. Knowing her, you wouldn’t be surprised. 

“He’s gonna say something stupid,” she muttered. 

“Hm?” you asked. Wesley was looking at Giles. 

“Don’t you think she’s a bit on the younger side for you?” 

Silence went over the room as the words seemed to hang in the air. Giles stared bullets into his former colleague. 

“I don’t think that’s any of your concern,” he said coldly. 

“She looks closer to the slayer's age. My age. I have every right to ask, as a proceeding member of the council and part of the investigation towards your extermination.” Giles took a step forward, too close. You were suddenly reminded of the ‘not so booksmart’ person he used to be, the one who would throw a punch before working with words. You stood back up. 

“Keep her out of your mouth or so help m-”

“Alright,” you intervened. You stepped between the two of them. “I’m only 12 years younger but you flatter me. Giles, a moment?” You grabbed Rupert’s arm, gently pulling him in the direction towards his office. It took him a moment, not wanting to digress from the standoff. Eventually he followed. 

“Don’t leave me here all by my lonesome with this guy,” Buffy pleaded. 

“Vetoing your contribution here slayer,” you called back. She let out a huff, returning to staring bullets. You shut the office door gently behind you. 

“That’s a tad dramatic,” he pointed out. “I’m fine.” 

“I’m not going to put words in your mouth but I’m allowed to observe, yeah?” He pursed his lips, shoving his hands in my pockets. You nodded. “Other Watcher, bad. Wiles Westley Watchamacalllhim is making you, Rupert Giles, sad. You want Buffy to remain under your watch, lack of better word, and this new man is now stepping all over your toes in that regard. Observations correct?”

“Generally.” 

“What am I missing?” He shook his head. 

“It’s not important. Move on with your speal please.” 

“Buffy won’t trust this man the way she trusts you. She never could, you have too much history. You have the upper hand here, despite the council not backing you up. He’ll never be half the Watcher you are,” you promised. You grabbed his hand. “Speal over.” 

He nodded gently, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“You do have a way with words.” You laughed gently, shaking your head.  

“I’ll try to be more Bronte later.” He squeezed your intertwined hands, a defeated smile on his lips. 

There was a knock on the office door. You rolled your eyes and released his hand. You swung open the door to meet Wesley on the other side. 

“I have to speak to Mr. Giles.” 

“He’s all yours Wes.” You patted his chest as you walked past, back to Buffy. 

-

As the day wound down and everyone started home, you were stuck in the library still. You loved the place but the more you spent in it with two Watchers, the more you were starting to see its lesser qualities. Giles had followed Buffy and Faith out to have a generally mentor-like talk. 

Leaving you alone with Wesley. 

“So you know of Buffy because of Giles?” he questioned. You raised your head from the book you were reading. You had hardly noticed him watching you. He had a cup of coffee in his hand, standing disgustingly straight. You sat on the steps. 

“I was assistant librarian. Almost died by vampire. Happens to the best of us.” 

“He fraternized with a colleague?” 

“Continues to do so. Don’t look so jealous, Wes.” You put the book to your chest. “You’re ruining the perfect balance of the scooby gang you know.”

“Perhaps it needed to be out of kilter. I don’t see it going swimmingly right now.” He walked over to you. You looked up at him, observing his very even stature. You wondered, not for the first time, if Giles looked like this when he was a little younger. “What are you reading?”

“Rereading.” You glanced at the book. “Wuthering Heights.” 

“Classic.”

“Yes sir. One of my favorites. Helps me forget about the neverending impending doom,” you muttered. He looked awkward for a moment and then sat down beside you on the steps. You raised an eyebrow. 

“I’ve always enjoyed a bit of light fiction reading.” You opened your mouth to speak, reading the signals he was not so eloquently putting off. You were interrupted by the library door opening. 

Giles slowed his walking speed at the sight of you. Wesley stood up, embarrassed. You gave Rupert wide eyes, a gentle I don’t know sign. 

“Go do Watcher duties won’t you? The girls need someone to watch them before patrol.” Wesley wanted to argue but noted the look in Rupert’s eyes and decided against it. He gave you a nod and then passed him to leave the room. 

You were alone with Rupert. Finally.

“Wuthering Heights?” he asked gently. You nodded, a small smile on your face. 

“Am I so predictable?”

“You’re a classic.” 

You leaned against the railing, watching him with admiration in your eyes. There was something special about emotions fluttering around the room, knowing there was something to be said and something understood. You softly patted the stairs beside you. He walked over, sitting down without a word. 

“You know what I’m going to say,” he breathed. You grabbed his hand, staring down at it as you traced the lines of his palm. 

“Wesley will never be you.” 

“Are you speaking for Buffy or…or for you.” 

“For me.” You wanted to argue aggressively, assure him that whatever he was thinking was wrong. You felt the opposite, you would never love someone like you loved him. That Wesley, no matter the difference in your ages, it would always be Giles. That the age truly wasn’t even that big of a deal. You were consenting adults with fully formed frontal lobes. 

Instead you leaned down to him and put your chin on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you whispered. He did a double take with his eyes, not moving his head so as to not disturb you. You hadn’t said that yet. “You don’t have to say anything-”

“I love you too.” 

You smiled brightly. You kissed his shoulder and then sat up all the way. 

“Can you read to me?” He glanced up at you, wondering how you had moved on so quickly. 

“Hm?” 

“I just like to listen to you talk Rupert,” you murmured. You handed him your book and slid down the stairs so you were sitting beside each other. He cleared his throat curiously. “One second. I’m gonna go grab one of your sweaters from the office, I like to get cozy. You got any blankets in there Rupert?” You got up and walked away. He smiled to himself. 

“Under the desk.” 

“Ah ha!” you peeked around the corner. You emerged wearing one of his gray knitted sweaters. “I love that you have blankets in your office. Hm. I love you I think.”

“Oh?” You shrugged. 

“Yes sir.” 

You sat beside him again and put a blanket over his lap. 

“Go on. Heathcliff won’t read himself.” 

When Wesley returned he glanced through the door window before walking in. Your head rested on Giles’s, eyes closed in content. You looked rather cozy on that step. Giles kept reading, even as you presumably slept. 

Wesley turned back to bother Buffy some more.

[lokidokieokie]

Rupert Giles Masterlist

ONESHOTS

Threads of Redemption

Accidental Slumber

[lupines-slash-recs]

Rec: Pub Crawl by kangeiko

Title: Pub Crawl Author: kangeiko Canon: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Pairing: Rupert Giles/Ethan Rayne Rating: Mature [R] Word Count: 2,680 Summary: Giles and Ethan go on a pub crawl during the S4/5 hiatus.

Continue reading...

[vampswritings]

He’s never built a bed before. The loft apartment had come furnished with necessities, fridge, sofa, oven, bed, desk. Everything a newly relocated Watcher should require. (Post Passion, Giles puts together a bed, it's ostensibly difficult)

I've been stuck on the idea of Giles apartment as a center of trauma but also love and that's how this happened. The idea of the space absorbing energies was a fun gothic concept I needed to play with.

[celinecooperjones]

Hi still me, still writing Jopper (or trying to at least) but currently having a deep Jenny Calendar and Rupert Giles fixation that doesn’t seem to be letting up. Soooo perhaps you may see a little something written for them eventually 👀

As for Sexploration of Joyce Byers updates, it’s coming along slowly but surely, I have just had no time or motivation lately. But it’s partially written and I’ve been excited for this chapter so I hope to get it to you all soon, thanks for your patience ❤️

[caricature-of-fic]

2x mini fic for: 1x03 Witch

POV Giles; 2. POV Buffy

----

Had he thought himself prepared, when he was called upon to act as the Slayer’s Watcher? Prepared to take on this task that he’d barely expected to be assigned at all anymore?

Had he thought he knew what it would mean, to watch over and prepare the one girl whose life was to be dedicated, fully and without fail, to the greater good, to the saving of the world from all those malevolent forces most humans had no idea they needed saving from?

Rupert wasn’t sure anymore, but he thought he had. After all, the job being to prepare the Slayer herself, wasn’t it automatically implied that he, as her Watcher, must already be prepared?

Shifting the Slayer—Buffy, shifting Buffy in his grip so she wouldn’t slip from his arms, so he wouldn’t drop her on the concrete—shifting her carefully and clenching his jaw at her quiet moan, he knew that he’d been wrong. He, and everyone who’d prepared him for this job, this calling. Because the Slayer wanted to go to the local disco and to be a cheerleader. Because the Slayer had defeated a master vampire before Rupert had ever laid eyes on her, and instead of accepting this as her initiation into the life that destiny had decreed to be hers, she tried to turn her back on her Calling, and on him. Because despite her obvious contempt, she immediately took up her weapons when necessary, and did her best to keep everyone else out of danger.

Because the Slayer was a girl of sixteen, and he’d been prepared—or at least willing—to pitch her against all sorts of demons and creatures, and she’d seemed easily up to the task when she’d been stubbornly asserting her teenage will and punching and staking anything that required such treatment, her small, thin body belying the strength she wielded.

God, she was so small. So small, and so very, very young. Did he remember what he’d been like at sixteen?

He didn’t, not really, but it hardly mattered. Buffy was sixteen now, and despite all the preparation he’d received from the Watcher’s Council, he had in no way been ready for the reality of being responsible for her.

Because that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? The Council had meant to prepare him to wield a weapon. A living, breathing weapon, but a weapon nonetheless. Instead, she had come to him a human, a teenager, with opinions and objections in abundance, and with a personality as strong as her powers, if not, impossibly, stronger.

If he’d been better prepared, maybe he’d have known how to handle that. Handle her. Maybe he’d have known how to squash her protests, her rebellion.

Maybe having her lie dying in his arms would not feel quite so much like losing a child. Maybe it would simply feel like a moment of professional failure, no more. He’d known her less than a month, for heaven’s sake, and in that short time the majority of their encounters had been accompanied by an intense sense of frustration. By all rights, it should not be such a hardship.

By all rights, she should get to live her life in peace. Not making the cheerleading squad should be the greatest of her worries.

Buffy grimaced in his arms, and Rupert knew that he was, to put it the American way, completely fucked.

---

coda.

“So, is this usually how things work for you?”

Buffy glanced up from where she was rummaging through her bag for a pen. She had committed to spending her free period to catching up on her math. Well, more like, she had absently mumbled in Willow’s vague direction that she really should do that, shouldn’t she, and Willow had responded to the idea—more of a passing thought, really—with an enthusiasm that Buffy had yet to learn to expect, and, well. Somehow it had turned into a sort of commitment, so she should probably at least be ready to take notes, right?

Right.

“With the failing to find the materials needed to do actual studying?” She shrugged, taking the opportunity to briefly give up her search. And then take the pen that Willow held out to her. “Oh. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome! But, uh, no, I meant…” Willow glanced around, as if anyone on school grounds would care what the two of them were saying. “It’s all, slaying vampires and hunting demons for you, right? And witches, now, I guess, so… do these things always just, you know, show up to interrupt whatever you’re doing, or…”

“Oh.” Buffy took a moment to reflect. “Never did so far? Well, until now. Believe it or not, but until recently, my life was actually pretty normal. School, friends, sports… Nothing even tried to kill me until I was 15! Unbelievable, right?”

Going by Willow’s frown, maybe she’d overdone the perkiness on that last bit. Oops. Buffy shot her a halfhearted smile. “Okay, seriously, no. The interfering in my normal life activities is kinda new. Except the whole vampires-in-the-school-gym was obviously also a major interference, but that was more a… coincidence, I guess, not an attempt to assassinate my academic career.” She swallowed. “Wasn’t really expecting to have the first normal high school girl activity I go for be a source of supernatural trouble, no.”

“And it wasn’t even vampires this time, huh.”

Willow was looking at her all sympathetic. Buffy wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that. “Guess I can count humans among the things that might try to kill me now! Fun times. Who ever said being the Slayer was boring?”

“No one, I think,” Willow pointed out reasonably. “This didn’t even have to do with being the Slayer though, did it? It was just… Amy, well, Amy’s mum being way too much into cheerleading.”

“Great! So it’s not just who I am as the Slayer, but who I am as a Buffy that makes people murderous!” Maybe her smile was a little bit manic. So what? She had earned a little bit of hysteria, hadn’t she? “Willow, promise me, if you ever feel like murdering me for any reason, let’s talk about it first?”

“Um. Sure? I’m not planning to, though. Murder you, I mean.”

“I cannot tell you how grateful I am to hear that.” Buffy lightly pushed her shoulder against Willow’s before finally turning towards the, as of yet unopened, math book. “On second thought… if it’d get me out of math…”