#friend: buffy x giles

[pirateboy]

my ethan/giles playlist is sooo good i have such an ego ab it. thank u btvs for making this storyline an obvious metaphor for drugs so i have lots of songs to cry ab them with.

[evieelyzabethh]

Sugar and Spike

pairing(s): Spike x fem!reader

summary: after a night of patrol goes wrong, Spike starts noticing some changes in himself, mainly that Buffy's sweetest friend won't leave his mind and that she would never look at him the same if she knew what he wanted to do to her.

warnings: smut!!! a smidge of yandereness, kinda a sex or die fic, possessive spike, handjob, unprotected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it), oral (fem receiving), praise kink, biting/marking (mentions of blood), a little bit of spanking, overstimulation, riding, fingering, veryyy little plot, and I think thats about it.

In hindsight, they should've kept a better eye on him. It was an odd night of patrolling, the usual gaggle of vampires being a demon or two this time around. Big tall thing that appeared out of nowhere and left as soon as it came. Spike, always with little regard for the consequences of his actions, ran right in. Ran so hard he went right through the demon as it went into smoke. He breathed it in before going into a coughing fit, as if he could feel it in his nose and lungs, spreading in his chest like a vine that pulled everything impossible tight before releasing him like he was never in its grasp . Red flag one.

It fell on him like rain, some clumping into what looked like pink sparkles in his hair, on his jacket, his worn boots. He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling away expecting to see it gunked together, but there was nothing there. It felt like his hair had been hit by my mist, slightly damp and cool. It seeped into his exposed skin, adhering itself into a pink sheen which also disappeared after only a few minutes. He remembered trying to brush it off, expecting it to feel wet but it was just slick. It was admittedly infuriating, especially since the feeling wouldn't go away. Red flag two.

“Buffy!” He shouted, rubbing his hands on his jeans as if it was going to wipe away the phantom feeling, but his complaints were met with apathy. 

“There’s nothing there, Spike.” A groan bubbled in his chest. 

“Astute observation, Slayer, but it feels like something’s there.” You were there beside him, something that would’ve gone unnoticed had he not been hit with your scent as your fingers brushed against his hand. He pulled away quickly out of instinct, not as subtle as he would’ve liked to because you noticed and scampered off in between Buffy and Giles. The distance between you and him got larger and the two of you talked about a mall trip you had planned and Willow was the only one to stick with him. She humored him, allowing him to shower at her place and taking a sample of skin only to find nothing. No residue, nothing abnormal, nothing had changed at all. Red flag three.

But he was sure it was fine. Nothing had really changed. You had been a bit cautious though.

You were prone to worrying, and he couldn't blame you. There was a lot to worry about when your best friends hunted demons and one of them was a literal creature of the night. You worried about Buffy so much he genuinely feared you would collapse from all the stress you put yourself under. Pursuing a nursing degree so they could avoid hospital visits unless absolutely necessary because none of you had the money. Having him train you in basic self-defense because you hated feeling like dead weight. You took up Latin and all of the other dead languages in those old dusty books just so you could be useful. You tied yourself in knots just to be sweet. God, you were so sweet. Even to your own detriment, like pure sugar that was going to rot his teeth eventually.

The more time you spent together, the more the rot seemed to take his brain than his teeth. His mouth never got anywhere near you; Buffy made sure of that. He wished he could say it was because she was babying you too much, that you were also tired of Buffy making Spike seem like the biggest mistake you could ever make. To be fair, he hardly knew you. He knew of you; he knew of the pink wardrobe and the fluffy socks and the pretty shoes. He knew of you as Buffy's cute neighbor who stopped by so often that you might as well live with them. You weren't being a baby, you were being cautious, even more now. He almost wished you didn't believe him as much as you did, maybe you'd keep visiting him. He hadn't seen you in days and it was really starting to take a toll on him. His leg bounced and he got in the bad habit of biting his nails, which was starting to get annoying with how often he had to repaint them.

If you were here, you would repaint them. You would sit your pretty self on his busted couch, and you'd have a little bag with you with all your pins and charms that jingled like the earrings that dangle from your ears. In your bag would be at least three shades of pink, a range of blacks and greys, and a wild card or two, maybe a blue or a green. You'd let him pick his color, despite knowing he always went for black. You asked anyway, just in case he decided to go with pink just to humor you. Had you walked through right now, he would've obliged. He would've done anything you asked him too. It wasn't even that he was lonely, but it was getting to suffocate in here. It was getting hot, like a fire was spreading. Each breath felt smoke filled, his skin was on fire, his skin was getting damp, like the dust had fallen again. His hand was shaky as he put a cigarette between his lips and lit it, surely the smell would break him out of what had to be a daze.

If you were here, you'd make a joke about him needing to air the place out. He'd probably open the door and call that enough air, but he liked his privacy, and he didn't like the idea of anyone just being able to waltz right in. You would want to make a joke about no one wanting to visit him, but you’d bite your tongue at the fear of being too harsh. You always got that look in your eye when you thought something that could be misconstrued as mean. You took your lip into your teeth and your pretty eyelashes flitted and you looked away. He thought about what it would be like to bite your lips, wanting to see what they looked like, all red and even prettier than they were before. Just a taste, that's all he wanted, a taste.

He got up to open up the door only for that phantom feeling to return. All over his body, it felt like he had stepped out into the sun, like every molecule that made up his body was vibrating and mere seconds from combusting. His breathing got ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly and his brain going into overdrive. He squeezed his eyes shut as if it would make it go away, but even from behind his eyelids, you were there. The idea of you, your smile, your laughter, fuck the very way you said his name. It sounded so nice coming from you. 

The way you said it when he got injured in a fight when you would patch up his wounds and have a bag of blood for him to replace what he lost. “Spike.” you would say. Like he should’ve known better than to just throw himself into danger. Not even bothering to consider the possibility that he did it to look heroic, or maybe in your care with your hands over his chest. There’s no reason for him to be this beaten and bruised from some baby vamp; William the Bloody. Spike? He had pride, but not as much as Angelus. It was easily quenched by the fact that he was in no way losing with your delicate hands tracing over faded scars on his chest and feeding him blood while they were just dust. 

“Spike.” Buffy would say, her tone laced with less concern and more disapproval. She knew something was up. After all they had gone through together, vampires should’ve been nothing for him. He had to space out his “fuck ups” just to get her off his back, just to get her voice out of his head. She didn’t say his name like you did. 

There wasn’t much better than how you said his name when it was just the two of you. Being together in his crypt, sometimes in your own bedroom which you had invited him into much to Buffy’s chagrin. “It’s Spike,” you had said, “how many times have we saved the world with him? I think he’s earned it.” It sent shivers down his spine. He would’ve saved the world so much sooner if it meant being able to be in your space. If it meant getting to hear you say his name through fits of laughter, trying to regain your breath while still finding enough to utter his name. “Spike.” you said, your hand over his while you giggled. He felt that heat now, felt the heat of all your touches culminating right now. All over his skin, tensing his muscles, holding his chest as he fought for breath himself. 

While he had the chance, he should’ve raided your underwear drawer. Now he was left to fist his dick with just the memory of you. You wouldn’t notice a pair or two gone, surely you wouldn’t. It was the type of small thing you would overlook because really what is a pair or two. You wouldn’t want him to be in pain, hearing his situation now, you’d feel like it was all your fault. The least you could spare was a pair of your prettiest panties for him to wrap around his cock while he fisted himself to the thought of you and how you would say his name now. 

The closest he’d gotten would be after a big battle. You had taken a beating, by the time you had gotten to a safe space you had lost a dangerous amount of blood, but the sounds that came out of your mouth were so delicious. And you trusted him to carry you to safety, your bloody hand wrapping itself around his bicep to maintain some tether to consciousness. “Spike.” your voice dripping with pain, but even that wasn’t enough to mask how pretty you sounded. He felt bad then for how hard it got him, but there is such a thin line between   pain and pleasure. The only difference now would be circumstance, and he would never hurt you. This would be good for you, the both of you, you just had to let him. You just had to say his name. 

“Spike?” In that moment, he knew there had to be some high power looking out for him when he heard your voice. Dream-like, and soft, like the wind could have blown it out and away from your lips. “Spike?!” you said again. He couldn’t tell if it was his shred of restraint or his body’s unwillingness to listen to his brain that kept him glued to his couch. 

“Now really isn’t a good time, love.” He tried to keep his voice level, he really did, but it was too much. And you weren’t stupid, he heard the heels of your shoes against the hard floor and smelt you before he even saw you. And fuck you smelt heavenly. 

“Are you okay? What happened-” You looked like you had a halo above your head, or maybe he was much further gone than he had thought. You cut yourself off in shock. When you had walked in, you hadn’t expected to catch Spike with his hands down his pants. 

“You know what, I’m just gonna go a-and come back later.” You tried to smile in an attempt to make the situation less awkward than it needed to be, but he grabbed you by your wrist. 

“Wait-I just need-fuck. I just need you to stay for a bit. I don’t feel good.” Your eyes met and you saw the sheen of what you assumed to be sweat covering his chest and face. His pupils blown out, his hair out of place, his labored breathing, like he couldn’t catch his breath. Oddly enough, the sheen had a pink tinge, and despite the fact that his fangs were protruding, his vampire face hadn’t appeared. You reached out to touch his forehead to surprisingly find a temperature. He groaned at the contact, both wanting to melt into your skin and like it physically pained him. 

“What happened?” He declined the answer, instead pushing his head more into the palm of your hand, tipping his head to sniff the inside of your wrist. “What are you doing?” You tried to pull away and put some distance in between the two of you, but he pulled you back, even closer than before. 

“You smell so good.” He nosed his way past your wrist and up your arm till he made it to your collarbone, trying to find where he could hear your blood pump the loudest. “Stop it!” you pushed against him as soon as you felt the tip of his fangs attempting to break skin. To both of your surprise, he let you. It looked like it pained him to do so, his eyes screwed shut and his hand gripping the arm of his couch until the wood snapped. 

“If this is about the demon thing, I’m gonna go get Willow, okay? You just need to stay right here.” The authority you had laced in your voice was cute. 

“Just stay here with me, yeah? There’s no need to get Willow. We don’t need Willow.” His voice had dropped an octave, his pupils blown and his brain damn near empty. Anything went in one ear then out the other as he held your hands in his, staring through you as if daring you to defy him. 

“Spike, you aren’t well.” You had tried to reason, but all he heard was that you weren’t saying no because you didn’t want this. You were concerned for his well being, even when he had you pinned down and his teeth at your neck, each breath moving you closer to him drawing blood, you were saying no because you were concerned he didn’t want this. You somehow thought he didn’t want you. 

“I’ve never felt better, baby.”, he said-practically fucking growled. Hell if he wanted you, he needed you. He pressed himself into you, his hands grabbing at anything he could to ground himself, his left at the base of your scalp and his right bunching the fabric of your skirt in his hands. He breathed into your neck, nipping and nicking at bare skin then soothing it with his tongue and kisses. He worked himself up over you, taking and taking until he was drunk, his tongue lolled out as he put his head on your chest.“Can I fuck you.” 

You had been caught in a daze yourself, his words had barely registered. You had more sense than he did at this point, finding enough resolve to shake your head. “Please.” he begged, groaning it out through clenched teeth. “I need you to make it feel better, please God just make it feel better.” He had pushed his hips into your hand, his weeping cock leaking onto you, pleading with you to touch it. “I’ll make it good for you, I swear, just be my sweet girl, yeah? Just make it better.”

You experimentally rubbed the tip, and he whimpered. His hand grabbing your wrist so fast a look of shock flashed across his face. You took that as a sign to pull away but he put your hand back around him, pushing your hand up and down his base. “Too much too quick, love.” 

Any hesitancy you had was swallowed as he smashed his lips into yours. It was urgent and quick, almost bruising how hard he kissed and held you as if you were going to disappear at any point. He tugged at a handful of hair, catching you in a moan that he used to force tongue into your mouth, sucking it as you pumped his dick at a painfully slow pace. 

His kisses made you breathless, and it was then you realized that he likely forgot in his haze that you actually needed air. He moaned into your lips, the sound spreading throughout your body and shaking you to your core. It wasn’t lost on him how damp your underwear had gotten, had he had the strength to pull away to touch you he would, but the mere seconds his skin would be off yours was enough of a deterrent to keep him in place. 

You tried to move away, but his hand kept you in place. “Don’t move.”, he rushed it out, a tone that otherwise would’ve been more commanding had he not been weak himself. “Keep going.” His hips bucked and stuttered, his movements becoming erratic the more faint your touches became. Like it was a warning; let me up for air and I’ll keep touching you. He whined at the thought of you pulling away. That wasn’t fair. 

His lips parted from yours, settling for the corner of your mouth before moving to your jawline to your neck, then just under your ear. You gasped for breath, you numb with the ecstasy of air and the feeling of his rushed kisses. He was getting close. Your hand was covered in his sticky pre-cum, his cock even more so as your hand moved alone over him, his own hand now grabbing at your shirt at the feeling. You squeezed at the bass, a motion he clearly enjoyed with how his body tensed up. A series of obscenities flowed from his pretty lips as he came, spurts of his cum getting over your pretty pink skirt, an image Spike would get himself off to later. 

You didn’t get long to sit in what just happened when he was on you again, laying you on your back and ripping your skirt clean off. You moaned something that sounded like “My skirt!”, but neither one of you were really worried about it. 

His lithe fingers were quick, rubbing you through the fabric of your panties, while he kissed up to where you wanted him excruciatingly slow. His hands rubbed and teased at the soft skin of your thighs, marking bruises everywhere he went. 

He moaned into you, sniffing you once again, before finding a place he wanted to dig his fangs into. Maybe it was how delicately he stuck in his teeth, maybe it was the lust blown fervor, but it didn’t hurt as much as you anticipated. In fact, you moaned at the intrusion, unable to know what to do with yourself as he sucked and lapped up the blood he had drawn. Your fingers wove into his hair, as if he could be pulled any closer to you than he already was. “You taste so good. So good.” And he let you know as such. The obscene noises that flew from the both of you, the slurping and whines, the pop of his lips as he traveled from one spot to another. But that’s not how he intended to eat you whole.

You were unbelievably wet, soaking through your panties and even Spikes fingers before he took pity on you and decided to pull them aside and plant his fingers into you. Now, you weren’t a virgin, but you had never had sex that felt as good as this. Never had someone in you that had hundreds of years of practice beforehand. 

“You’re doing so good, Sweet Girl. So good, can’t get enough of you.” What was an attempt to calm your nerves, had you keening and over the moon, the praise bringing tears to your eyes as you ground yourself in his hand. That didn’t move him along any quicker, his tongue still collecting anything you would give him like he hadn’t been fed in years. 

“Spike!” You called out, which finally seemed to get his attention. He saw the glass-like look your eyes had taken and the pout on your face. You looked like you were about to cry. Poor thing, so desperate. He said he’d take care of you, make you feel good. No point in denying the inevitable. 

You whined when he pulled out of you just to choke when he began to devour you. His nose at your clit and his tongue plunging into. “Thank you.” he muttered into you, like this was some divine gift to him. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” The combination of his praise and how good he was giving it to you made that coil in your belly tighten and tighten until it threatened to snap. And he just kept going. Completely in his own world, the only thoughts in his mind being about you, how you smelled, how you tasted, god you were so good to him. Letting him eat you out like this, helping him like this. He shouldn’t have expected any less from his girl. His sweet girl. No one else's, you couldn’t be anyone else's after this. His grip tightened around your thighs at the very thought. “Mine.” he said, the vibrations hitting your core deliciously. “Mine.”

“Yours Spike, all yours.” He hummed in approval, inserting two fingers back into you while he kept up his electric pace. He held your hand as it began to be too much, your back arching off the couch and your thighs closing around his head as he just kept going. You called his name as you came, high and higher until it became too heavy on your mouth and you couldn’t say anything at all. The grip you had on his hand had loosened, but he hadn’t let up. He still rambled into you, “Again. Again. Again. Please.”

You didn’t know if your hips were bucking into him or try to wiggle away from him. Either way, both attempts were unsuccessful. With how hard he pulled on your panties they had snapped and had been thrown to the side for the simple crime of being in his way. His forearm lay on your hip keeping you in place. Your hand still laid in his, him squeezing it as if it was any comfort from the inescapable feeling of his tongue licking your thoroughly soaked pussy. 

Your toes curled in your frilly socks as you came again on his tongue, and you foolishly expected that to be enough. You would’ve asked him to stop if you could pant out anything more than whines. You would’ve pushed him away if you could manage anything more than weak taps on his forearm. “No more.” you whispered out. “Can’t.” His fingers rubbed your hand as some form of encouragement. 

“Yes you can, love.” You shook your head weakly, scooting your hips back only for him to swiftly smack your pussy. You preened on the contact, and he drank in the arousal that gushed out just from that. “My sweet girl isn’t gonna disappoint me, is she? She’s gonna make me all better, isn’t that right?” Your brain was so fogged out you couldn’t even produce a response. You just groaned and squirmed, unable to brace for impact when he smacked you again. 

“Spike!” You cried out, but he didn’t care. Heknew you were feeling good from how much you gushed while he tongue fucked your cunt. It was just a bit too much for you right now. You would feel better, you just needed to let go some more. He tried to relax you, tried rubbing mindless shapes on your skin to calm you down as he worked you through your third orgasm, but you just heaved. Your tits bounced with how heavily you breathed, and yet after all of that, he still didn’t feel better. Why didn’t he feel better?

Despite the relief that came from him pausing his abuse, you still whined as he sat up from behind your legs. With your taste still on his tongue, he kissed you. You sighed into him, the feeling of his large hands moving from your hip to under your shirt to touch your tummy and rip your bra in half. You didn’t even notice him moving you into his lap and setting your thighs on either side of him so you straddled him. He thumbed your nipples, pinching and rubbing over them while he relished in the feeling of you cunt so close to his dick. 

You didn’t seem to catch on either as he slid in between your folds, too lost of him finally kissing you again. You moaned into this kiss as his fingers dipped to toy with your clit before he whispered in your ear. “Just one more.”

In one fluid motion, he slipped his dick into his cunt, catching you as your limbs went weak. He was so big you felt your eyes water with the pressure of him being in you. You could tell he was struggling to stay still, but the haze had worn off enough for him to regain some sense. He still waited eagerly for you to adjust, brushing the fallen tears from your eyes and kissing your checks to make it all better.

“Too big. It’s too big.” You stuttered. It was all you could manage to mutter out. He cooed at you, his dick growing harder than he thought possible at the feeling of it all and the praise. 

“I was made for you, Pretty Girl, you can take it.” You yelped as he jerked his hips into yours, but he just couldn’t help it. You were so pretty like this, all fucked out and dumb. Not a thought behind those eyes of yours and the only thoughts he was capable of was you. How warm you were, how wet you were, how tight you were. You were squeezing him and  milking him dry and as much as he tried he just couldn’t stop him self from fucking into you. 

“I’m sorry.” and he meant it. You weren’t ready and he couldn’t even tell if he was ready, his body had a mind of his own and he felt himself just slipping into the feeling of being enveloped by you. “Just too good. You’re too good. My good girl. You’re gonna take all I give you, aren’t you, love? You gonna be my sweet girl and take it?” His voice was breathy and low and impossibly hot. 

All you could manage was a soft ‘mhm’ as you took him in. It wasn’t like you had any other choice as you bounced on his cock, gripping at his chest and taking in each moan you earned as you drew blood from your scratches. 

You felt every inch of him, felt the tip of his dick hit your cervix and kept pounding at it like it was his job;  like he would die if he didn’t. You can’t do anything but take it as you screw your eyes shut and just try to breathe as everything in your body fights to hold on to some feeling. It was impossible to think, not when Spike’s hands were all over you and his touch was so incredibly hot. Even stranger, a pink glow began to emanate from him, that or you were closer to passing out than you originally thought. . 

He kept you close to his chest as you both chased your impending highs together, your lips meeting in the middle as you moaned and sighed into each other's mouths and he was a goner, rambling like a mad man in your ear, thanking you endlessly for something he couldn’t put his hands on. Maybe it was your release, that you felt coming like a truck. He squeezed at the fat of your hips, pulling you even closer until neither one of you could tell where the other started and ended and you came like that, so close that you were almost suffocating, but a different kind from before. 

He came not long after you, his dick still inside spurting his cum inside you and keeping it in there with little intention of coming out any time soon. That pink glow had faded from before, fading away until there was nothing there and the slight pink tinge from before was gone too. His eyes drooped a bit, his blue irises that you hadn’t realized you had missed finally reappeared, his pupils returning to normal and his fangs retracting. 

He hung his head in your neck and you felt his temperature drop a bit, no longer boiling hot. He refused to move his head from his spot though. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was ashamed of what just happened. 

After the both of you had a moment to catch your breaths, he removed himself from inside you, stalking off to find something to wear now that your outfit was completely ruined. He even had the decency to turn around while you changed, granted he had a hard time looking at you anyway. 

“You’re gonna wanna deep clean that couch.” You said to break the silence. You were surprised you got a chuckle out of him. 

“Yeah. I don’t normally do this sort of thing on there.” Another moment of silence passed between the two of you.

“You know, we can go back to my place and I can fix your nails. I can tell you’ve been biting at them.” He didn’t need to be told twice either. The place still stunk of sex and his head was feeling clearer than it had in days, he couldn’t stand to be there right now.

“About all of this…you won’t tell Buffy, right?” You giggled. 

“Not if you don’t.” And that was more than enough for him.

[prose-for-hire]

Should I Stay or Should I Go? (Part Three)

Part One // Part two

Pairing: Spike x Giles!reader

Part three of four 💖

Warning: reader drinks/smokes, difficult relationship with Giles and not friends with Buffy.

He had been searching for you when you hadn’t returned, his face steeped in worry as he stormed through the night to find you. Maybe you had got lost or eaten in that annoying human way. He cared for you deeply. He couldn’t help it and as he walked through Sunnydale until the light started to singe his body, he knew that he couldn’t fight his feelings anymore.

It had been five days. He had caught your scent around the UC Sunnydale campus but he kept losing it in certain places. He needed to see you, needed to make sure that you were okay.

He had been sleeping in your bed clinging to your clothes, bathing in your scent. Wishing he could have you back by his side again, where he was more sure each day that you truly belonged. He wished to have you pressed against him again, cradle you in his arms, grip your body in his bed.

He had found you five days later by chance, stalking into the Bronze looking for something to pass the time. His mind on you but he had little hope that you would appear before him. He was even beginning to worry he had dreamt you up.

Until, well, there you were. Stood at the side of the Bronze looking miserable as you swirled your drink around. You were talking to a redhead who looked a little exhausted by your company.

He stepped back, watching you intently as if you were a mirage. He wanted to reach out and touch you so badly but he was afraid you may be a cruel illusion. He had looked for you for days, he had worried sick about you.

From the dark he overheard your conversation, you had left because of the kiss. It had overwhelmed you as much as you had wanted to stay in the moment forever.

“I just don’t know… should I go? Should I stay?” You asked, not for the first time since you had started talking to her.

“I, uh, I’m still not sure Spike is exactly boyfriend material”

“I’m not trying to make a blanket out of him, Will” You said smiling softly at the idea of Spike wrapping his arms around you.

Your indecision was bugging even yourself as you spoke about it for the millionth time. Willow was at a loss as to what to say other than that Spike was very dangerous and ultimately evil. You were already way past that and had seen the good in him as well as the bad. You liked both but you knew that this would sever any chance at reconciling with your Dad.

“Embarrassed, is that it?” Spike asked, his eyes not meeting yours as he stepped from the shadows. His eyes were haunted by a situation much like this, some decades earlier. He felt it, the rejection, the pain. It was so acute and written on his face so clearly that you could almost feel it yourself.

“Spike, it’s not like that, I-”

“You used me for a cheap thrill and then went toddling back to your boring little life livin’ under Daddy’s thumb”

He stormed out, lighting up a cigarette as he walked, his duster whipping around him as he walked into the street. You ran after him, ignoring his muttering about not even getting to the thrilling part.

You grabbed his shoulder and he let you turn him to face you. He was agonisingly close, you even found his frown cute. His anger desirable. You wanted to kiss his pain away, remove the furrow from his brow. Offer up any thrill that he could possibly want.

“If you don’t want me then bloody well let me free” He moved as if to push past you but you took his hand. With your touch he softened, even slightly.

“I was scared, Spike”

“Now you find the time to bloody fear me”

“It’s just, I was trained from a child to be a Watcher and as much as I never cared for it, things like that are kinda difficult to unlearn. Suddenly I was ten years old again being screamed at by some stuffy Watchers when I started to empathise with one of the vampires in our case studies.”

You had been wrestling with your own morality. It was a battle you could never win when kissing Spike felt so right but everything you had been taught until now had told you it was so wrong.

He nodded, understanding that where you come from can impact your life, and even your un-life. He was still reeling from the rejection, it had hurt in a way that he hadn’t felt since he was human. He offered you a smoke, you took it, leaning into him as he flicked his lighter on for you. Your eyes met, deepening your gaze as you inhaled the thick smoke.

Nothing was said in this time, though it lasted for an age, something unspoken was communicated. Shared.

He lowered himself, his duster sliding from his shoulder slightly as he knelt on the floor his cigarette bobbing from his lips as he spoke, “I’m on my knees here, pet, I can’t lose you. Love like this comes once an eternity.”

“Love?”

You reached for him, lowering yourself to kneel with him, your hands clasping his after flicking your cigarette away. You couldn’t help the way your doubts creeped into your head, how your upbringing made you question every move that you made in terms of good and evil.

“Where do we go from here?”

“Come home?”

You had barely nodded before he slammed his lips against yours, your knees resting uncomfortably on the tarmac, but all you could think about was the way he felt against you. The urgency in which he kissed, the way he cradled your face in his hands, caressed your skin. He felt divine beneath your hands, his lips felt heavenly on yours.

How could anything about this be wrong?

You leaned against him, your forehead pressed against his as you panted trying to regain your composure. You stayed like that for a while in the dark alley before you took his hand again and walked towards your shared crypt.

From there, you took things slow. Much slower than either of you would like. You often fell asleep against him in the evenings and shared such deep confessions. Of your pasts, of your feelings for the other.

After a week of settling back into your home, you had an unwelcome houseguest. And she didn’t even bring a home-warming gift.

Buffy slammed the door to your crypt so hard that it almost came clean off its hinges. She came to tell you that your father had been turned into some demon by Ethan Rayne and she wanted to make sure that you knew that he was okay. That he was shaken but unharmed and would perhaps appreciate a visit from his family.

You mumbled something about going to visit sometime but realised this was the wrong decision. Buffy saw this as an opportunity to give you some (again, unwelcome) advice.

“Look, y/n, as a friend-”

“We were never really friends, Buffy”

The young girl looked surprisingly hurt, perhaps she had truly seen you as a friend and you had misjudged her. She had, of course, never been anything other than pleasant to you. You had just allowed your jealousies to fester beyond control. Plus she was self-righteous in a kind of annoying way.

“Well, friend or not I care about you because I care about Giles. Grow up, y/n, the rebel act was kinda last season. He misses you”

“He made it very clear that I’m not welcome, why would him letting Ethan make him all Fyarl-y make a difference?”

“You can’t be happy here, with him” she visibly shuddered as he walked up to join you from the lower level of the crypt. You appreciated that you got a glimpse of his athletic torso beneath his unbuttoned red shirt.

He slung an arm around you, squeezing your shoulder and whispering in your ear. You were too comfortable together and Buffy looked as if it made her physically sick. She threatened Spike vaguely, gave you another warning and then with a hair flip she stormed back out of the crypt and slammed the door shut behind her.

The thing that irritated you the most was that she genuinely thought she was ‘saving you from yourself’. That you had taken the wrong path. That the love, this amazing and beautiful feeling that you had never quite felt anything like before, was somehow wrong. Or gross. Or evil.

Which had fed into your thoughts the first time you had been close to Spike. You wouldn’t let it happen again. You hated the distance. The way his absence had physically pained you.

Spike guided you back down to the his bedroom, pressing soft kisses against your jaw, nipping at your neck and caressing his lips down your chest. He wanted you all to himself, he wouldn’t let you go again. Not now he knew how good life could be with you in it. By his side, in his bed.

By late afternoon you were lying on your side in his bed, watching him writing in a notebook. Papers littered the floor of the crypt. He hadn’t had such inspiration since he was human. You had brought him back to life. Revived him.

“Did you mean it, when you said you loved me?” You asked softly, your fingers trailing softly against his muscled arm.

“Never meant anything more,”

He had, of course, noted that you hadn’t said it to him. It stung a little but he would rather have you by his side even if you didn’t love him than not at all. He knew you cared for him, of course. Knew that you felt safe with him. Knew that he would kill any man, demon or slayer that came anywhere near you.

He put his writing down, shifting himself and burying his face into the crook of your neck. He would give anything to hear you say it.

“Say you’re mine, love, and I’ll be here until the end of time,” He pleaded between landing slow kisses against your exposed skin.

“I love you, Spike, I think… I think I’ve always been yours,” You whispered as if you were afraid he might overhear.

He smirked darkly, his fangs bared and his face morphed from beyond your line of vision. Your eyes were closed, enjoying his touch. He suddenly wrenched your head to the side, exposing your neck further.  

He could feel your pulse thrumming faster now.

He swallowed thickly,  before propelling himself towards your neck, ignoring the firing from his chip as he held you in place…

[thissharktypes]

Spike (btvs) x reader

Sensitive crybaby reader x bitchy Spike lol GN reader College age Scoobies and reader

You swing your legs back and forth on the kitchen counter, nibbling on a peanut butter drenched apple slice while you watch Buffy, Giles and Xander bicker back and forth about the best way to dispatch of yet another group of vamps. The door swings open and Spike stalks in, boots thudding loudly enough to pause the chatter before they resume bickering. You hop down and trot over to Spike with a big grin on your face and a handful of apple slices. “Hi Spike! How are you tonight?” you chirp up at him, your smile faltering only slightly when he scowls at you, rolling his eyes and dropping himself down on the couch. You follow suit, sitting on the edge to give him space, you hold out you hand “Do you want an apple slice?” his mouth curls down in disgust “Can’t you leave me alone? Everytime you’re around it’s talk talk talk,” he makes a talking motion with his hand “Starting to think you’re just drenching your panties every time you see me at this point.” you retract your hand and stand up “Sorry Spike! I’ll leave you alone.” Your voice still bubbly despite the tears clouding your eyes.

Blinking rapidly you duck your head and quickly maneuver into the kitchen, busying yourself with making dinner for the group. Focusing on cutting veggies and stirring pots, picking out spices here and there, all these little things help you brush off another one of Spike’s outbursts “Hey, you okay?” Willow touches your shoulder gently and you nod “It’s fine, really! I know he’s just cranky today.” she sighs “Y/N he’s always like that, why do you keep trying to be nice to him?” you shrug, suddenly finding your shoes very interesting “I guess,” you hesitate “I guess I feel a sort of connection to him?” you squint at Willow “Before I met you guys I had nobody, I was just the weird kid.” You laugh softly “I know that deep loneliness, Nobody deserves that.” you whisper. Willow lets out a soft ‘awwwe’ and throws her arms around you. Out of everyone she had always been your closest friend, stumbling across her in the college library and immediately hitting it off by bonding over your similar fandom shirts you had both worn that day.

After a plan had been agreed on you set out bowls and plates, Willow trailing behind with silverware and cups. A big pot of pastina, fresh bread and a wonderful salad decorated your table. Cooking was something you took pride in, always so happy to share with your loved ones. But your eyes flickered towards Spike who had taken a seat near the end of the table, a spoon tightly grasped in his hand. You know in your heart that Spike could be kind, but the fear of him insulting the only thing you felt like you could offer to the group was rattling around in your skull.

Despite your hesitation you give him the benefit of the doubt and settle yourself in a chair too, letting everyone grab what they want before you serve yourself. Praises and compliments of how good it smells and how pretty everything is make you beam with pride “Okay okay enough talking, everyone eat!” you flap your hands dramatically. Everyone seems pleased with the food and casual conversations spark up before a groan followed by the loud clattering of a spoon and a chair being pushed back “I know the little one doesn’t have any useful skills for your merry little crew, but the food isn’t that good.” he turns on his heel and leaves, the door slamming shut behind him. All eyes are on you while you desperately try and keep a smile on your face while choking back tears, a hand slides into yours, you already know its Willow “It’s really good Y/N, you always cook for us when we’re sick or sad and it always makes us better, we wouldn’t keep coming over for meals if we didn’t like it.” Xander nods in agreement “You know me, I can’t lie about food.” he says through a mouthful of pasta and bread. You let out a watery laugh “Thanks you guys, It’s okay, I’ll keep trying. One day I’ll make him like me!” you wipe your eyes, ignoring the frustrated looks the group passes each other, all of them knowing you had spent every moment you could fighting to make Spike happy despite how much they all hated him.

Weeks pass, cookies laughed at, little clay sculptures insulted, clothing picked at, hair messed up, you took it all. Every last insult, every angry look, you tried so hard with your gifts, never giving up, until he took it too far.

Buffy had been gushing about some guy she met on campus, you and Willow sipping tea while the rest of the gang sat around the tv nearby “Ugh, I can’t even explain it!” she squealed happily “It’s like he’s perfect, and absolutely no vampy, demon-y, creepiness at all!” you and Willow give fake applause before you three melt into a pile of giggles “That just leaves you Y/N,” the red head wiggles her eyebrows “Everyone here has someone except you,” her nose scrunches “And crabby pants.” you swat her arm gently, laughing “I have a better chance at getting someone than that poor sod,” Spike shouts at the group “Nobody would pick such a boring creature like Y/N.” he snickers.

Your head swims, you have no idea why that hurt so much worse than anything he had said before. You stare at the table, trying to will away the sob that was bubbling up. Slowly standing, you push yourself away from the table, tears streaming down your cheeks. His grin drops as soon as he sees your face, but you’re gone, the front door flung wide open, silence falling over the room while your retreating figure gets farther and farther away. Willows fists clench, she had bit her tongue for the sake of you, but screw it “You fucking asswipe!” she chucks a plate at Spikes head, eyes wide, he ducks, just barely missing it “Every time Y/N does something nice you stomp on it! Do you know how hard they worked on every little gift for you?” her feet guide her in front of the now cowering blond man “And every single time you. made. them. Cry.” she jams a finger in his chest each time to punctuate her words “But they never give up, no matter how many times we all warn them about you they still pour their heart and soul into caring about you because they believed you deserved love and affection.” Willow snarls the last bit out, her rant more rage filled than any of her friends even thought she could muster.

Willows chest heaves, suddenly out of breath. She steps back, about to follow her friend outside before a hand stops her “I’m sorry. I’ll fix it.” Spikes face is hard as he leaves, unsure of how to handle the new information.

Over an hour of searching with no sign of you, he kicks a nearby tree, bark and wood splintering into the air “Bloody ponce!” he rakes his hands through his hair, aggravated “Such a bloody idiot!” Spike paces back and forth, a slew of self hatred spewing from his mouth. A twig snaps but he doesn’t even notice “Spike?” you sniffle, eyes puffy and red “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” he whips around to face you, drinking in your pouty, quivering lips, how you’re hugging your elbows and shivering, the mud staining your pants. All this and your first thought is to comfort him? He has you pulled into his arms, face buried in your hair, gripping you against him, before you can even repeat your question. A muffled ‘Oh!’ as your face is smothered in his chest. You both stand like that for who knows how long, Spike’s fingers carefully running through your hair, pausing to unravel tangles or pull out little bits of twigs or leaves. You squirm, your legs hurting from holding you up for so long after running. He shifts and suddenly you’re both on the ground, you on his lap, now swaddled tightly in his jacket. Spike presses kisses all over your face before guiding you to nuzzle into his neck, he’s rambling and you’re barely able to catch each word “I’m so sorry love, I truly am, I shouldn’t have been such a wanker to you.” he tucks his jacket under your chin “I was…” he swallows “Scared, I ‘spose. You were just so sweet, absolutely dotting on me pet, I’m not used to it.” your hand curls into a fist, gripping his shirt “I’ve been right smitten with you since you tried to give me that dinosaur band-aid,” you smile against his skin, remembering that day “You had said somethin’ about you having ‘Ello Kitty ones too but you didn’t want me to be embarrassed.” he pulls you even closer “I kept everything, ate all your little treats too, took everything in me to not beg you to cook for me.” you pull back and look up at him with such a soft look on your face his breath catches in his throat “Really?” your voice is so quiet he almost didn’t hear you, but he nods, his now messy hair falling across his forehead “Pet… You scared me when you ran off, Willow put the fear of capital G-O-D into me, threw a plate at me and everything,” he chuckles “Your friends love you, so vocal about how much they care, made me a bit jealous I think.” he nods “I could write a thousand sonnets about your kindness and it would never be enough to even begin to explain how much I cherish you.” your lips are pressed to his the second he finishes. Wrapped in each others arms, soft kisses, sweet nothings whispered in your ears, everything you could have hoped for and more.

[noceurstars]

”Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.”

Rupert Giles x Witch! Younger! Reader

You and the Scoobies try to have a normal Thanksgiving. Try, anyway.

[ w — age gap (20+ years), older man/younger woman, injured! reader, assumed unrequited love, short story, tv show-compliant only, slight canon divergence ]

— divider cred: @/inklore

Living above the Hellmouth meant that nothing would ever be normal. No holidays, no birthdays would ever be like the average person’s.

Thanksgiving and Christmas was the same. Monsters and creatures of the dark never took days off, not with their insatiable need to be evil.

Buffy sighed as she staked what was probably the 20th vampire of the night. Thanksgiving was a time to sit down with friends and family, having a lovely, large dinner and being thankful for the people in your life and the things you had.

But not for the Scoobies.

You huffed, rolling your sore shoulder. A vampire had taken a good chunk out of of your neck, but the second he tasted your blood, he instantly revolted, and you took a stake to his heart.

“You good?” Buffy asks, eyeballing your shoulder.

“Yeah.” But you hiss a little as pain flares through it. “It’s just gonna take a minute to heal. I’ll put some bandaids on it when we get back.”

Buffy cheerily and knowingly chips in a, “I’m sure Giles would disapprove.” That prompts you to give her a deadpan look.

“You know that he doesn’t like me like that,” you reply. You shove your hands into your pockets. “It’s a one-way street. Can we talk about something else?”

She shrugs. “Sure.”

The two of you walked side by side out of the graveyard. Buffy sighs, tilting her head down.

“I really wish Christmas could be normal,” she admits. “I miss it, from when I was a kid. It’s so much different from now.”

“Not as involved with monsters, you mean?” you say, and Buffy nods in confirmation. “Yeah, me too. I feel so… apathetic about it anymore. It doesn’t feel as important, as fun as it used to be.”

“Cons of being apart of the supernatural world,” she adds.

“Truly.” You laugh. “Not to mention—” A scream rips from your throat. Cold heat washes through you and up your spine, all the way up to your skull. Your head jolts back at the pain, and the cold heat leaves as the wooden stake leaves your body, now replaced by odd, liquid warmth.

Oh, you’re bleeding. Bleeding out, perhaps.

You heard the slaps and thuds of fighting as you fall to the ground. You try to have some semblance of control as you collapse in pain, but it doesn’t work. You bump your head into a headstone and more liquid oozes down your skin.

You hear the familiar hissing sound of dust. Buffy’s won. Now you see her over you, terror and fear written all over her features.

“[Name]? [Name]? You with me?”

You gulp, attempting to focus and swallow down the pain. “Kinda,” you hiss.

“Healing magic? Can it fix this?” she inquires hurriedly.

“Probably,” you reply, becoming more and more breathless.

“I’m gonna put pressure on it, okay? The second you feel any sort of clarity, start chanting.”

You let out a loud cry of pain, more blood coming out and staining your shirt. The pain signals the adrenaline in your body. It takes you a couple seconds longer than what you hope before you start chanting in Latin.

It feels strange, your body stitching itself back together. The strange feeling of blood coming out of your body disappears. You huff, the chant ending a minute later. Buffy takes her hands off the wound and you watch her examine it.

“How’s it look?”

“Looks good, head wound is gone, too,” she says. “But we need to get you back to the Magic Box. Giles and Willow might have something they can help you brew up to get you fully healed.”

You lean up using your elbows and hands. You take Buffy’s hand and let out groan of pain as you get to your feet. You two walk out of the graveyard and head to the Magic Box. You thank God it’s dark and no one can see you and your best friend walk through the streets of Sunnydale with her holding you up.

The Magic Box comes into sight not ten minutes later. Buffy uses her key to open the door, but neither of you expect to see the floor of the Magic Box completely cleared out, with a large, decorated table filled to the brim with food and drinks.

Xander is the first to turn his head up and see you and Buffy.

“Happy Thanksgiving, you guys!” he says.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Xander,” you speak breathlessly. And that’s when he knows something is wrong. His eyes trail down to your bloodied shirt and widen drastically.

“Oh, crap.”

“Oh, crap is right.” Buffy sets you down in one of the nearest chairs. “Get the others and tell them [Name] needs a healing potion… or some sort of healing magic. The wound isn’t as bad as it looks, but she needs help crossing the finish line.”

“On it.”

Xander heads to the back to get the others, who come rushing in not a moment after he gets them.

Unfortunately for you, all you can focus on through one eye (the other squinted in pain) is Giles, and the look of worry and concern on his face.

“She’s very pale,” Giles says. His voice is clearly worried. It almost seems borderline… terrified?

“Blood loss,” you say in a shakily exhale. “Healed, yes. Blood back inside the body? Not so much.”

“Can you do anything, Giles?” Buffy asks.

“Let me see the wound and we’ll see.”

You raise your shirt, showing off the nasty scar. It’s not fully healed, maybe three-quarters. You look away, eyes meeting Buffy’s, who’s expression is borderline teasing and full of amusement. You roll yours in return.

“Nothing out of my capabilities I can’t heal,” Giles says. He looks up at you and adds, “But I do have to touch it to heal it.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine.” The second Giles places his hand on the injury though, a large wave of nausea makes you shudder and groan.

“She looks like she needs a trash can,” Xander pipes.

“I’ll get one,” Anya offers, disappearing behind the counter momentarily to grab one. She places it next to you and you thank her.

Giles’ warm hand leaves your lower torso. The wound is completely healed, although you still feel faint from the blood loss. He looks at you again, scanning over your sick expression.

“I’ll be fine in a bit,” you tell, a smile appearing on your face. “I think some food in my stomach would do me some good. Thank you, Giles.”

“You are most welcome,” he replies, standing. “And I think you are absolutely correct. Shall we eat?”

Buffy nods and speaks for everyone’s hungry stomachs. “We shall.”

Dawn sits between you and Buffy. Xander, Anya, and Dawn are on the other side of the table. At the head of the table, between Xander and Buffy, is Giles. Just like a father should be, you think, humored.

“So… What happened? How’d you get such a wound?” Willow asks.

You and Buffy answer in unison: “Vampires.”

“Thought we were done and one caught us by surprise with one of the stakes,” Buffy explains. “[Name] used her magic, but she couldn’t heal it all the way.”

“Glad you both made it back,” Xander said happily. “This Thanksgiving dinner we put together would’ve been a total bust.”

Everyone laughs in agreement and digs into the food. Unknowingly to you, Giles can barely keep his eyes off of you, only looking away to take a bite of food off of his plate. Though he does try to it make it obvious.

Indeed, he’s glad you made it back. He’s glad he’s able to heal your injuries. Life would certainly be a lot more dull without you around.

But as Anya hands you the gravy, you catch Giles staring at you out of your peripheral vision. There’s a look on his face, one you know well, because it’s the same one Spike gives Buffy when she’s not looking.

You smile and raise your glass in a toast. “Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.”

Everyone raises their glass cheerily, downing a swig.

You thank this Thanksgiving for giving you hope. Even if it doesn’t last.

[acciofictionalmen]

bait - ANGELUS (btvs)

(angelus x female!reader one-shot)

summary : in a desperate attempt to catch angelus, the scoobies send you in as bait.

a/n: i don't usually write darker pieces of writing such as this, so lmk what you think ! :)

warnings : gets a bit spicy, sexual references, strong language used, angelus hurts reader, mention of blood, a sprinkle of yandere, kinda angsty?? 14+

"Angel?" You said uncertainly, pushing open the door to his apartment. It was unlocked.

The silence felt consuming, and you swallowed anxiously as you took small steps inside.

His bed was untidy, duvet strewn across the floor, "I came to ask for help, there's a demon-"

"(Y/n)? You're back?" He walked in after you. You forced yourself not to wonder whether he had been following you or not.

His voice startled you and you failed to suppress a flinch. You hadn't seen him like this yet, had only heard the chilling stories that Giles and the others had told you full of the details of what he was capable of. Buffy had been determined to keep you far away from Sunnydale, from the soulless demon, to hide you and ensure your safety. You had been face to face with Angelus before, and it hadn't turned out well. But things had changed, your situation had changed, and your friends needed help to defeat him. No matter the cost.

He looked almost exactly the same as always, except his brown eyes were filled with faux concern. "Are you okay?"

Angelus advanced towards you as your eyes flitted to the clock on the wall opposite. Seven and a half minutes. Then Buffy would be here, and Angelus would be caught and restrained. A couple of minutes. You could do that.

Yet you hadn't entirely been sure of your friends' plan- luring Angelus into one place would surely be something the two-and-a- half century old demon would expect. But your friends - Buffy especially - were desperate, and it seemed that the vampire couldn't resist an opportunity to spend time with you. To kill you, was your assumption. He had made it clear from the start that he delighted in these small games that you all played. What worried you was that he always left as the winner.

"Yeah, I have to write an article on Sunnydale's history; I'm an intern now at the Sunnydale Press." You explained, your confidence increasing, "I figured you could help. I arrived this morning and the others weren't home so.." You trailed off, uncertain if he'd bought it. You were doing a terrible job at pretending and you knew it, but the others insisted that it should be you who stalled Angelus. In the past he had always been slightly more lenient in a situation where you were involved.

"I thought you needed help with a demon?" He jested, and your heart dropped. He knew, and you were fucked. But there was nothing left to do except play along.

The vampire slowly advanced and you moved backwards, "Yes, uh, an article on the history of demons in Sunnydale."

Your back hit Angel's wardrobe, and the man opposite you smiled.

"I've never liked liars." He said absentmindedly, finger lifting your chin as he observed you. The fear in your eyes was evident and he inhaled your scent, distress seeping from your pores. "Tell me, (Y/n)," He began, closing what little distance was left between you. If he had been human, you would've been able to feel his breath hitting your face. You shivered. "-and don't lie," he continued, "do you ever think about me?"

You struggled against him, "Angel I-"

"Don't say his name," Angelus spat through gritted teeth as his hands harshly grabbed your wrists, keeping you firmly in place. "And feel free to keep struggling, precious, but just do it a little more to the left." He groaned.

You didn't respond, breathless and feeling nauseous. The both of you knew that you could easily resist him more if you tried, but Angelus knew that despite what you told yourself you didn't want to.

"At night, when you're in your small double bed, cushions propped up around you, hair down, head leant against the headboard, heart racing, in your thin, thin silk dress," He paused as though he were imagining it right then and there, imagining the fabric, imagining how when it hit the moonlight it was practically see-through, "the one in that pretty shade of periwinkle," his eyes found yours again, and you swore they darkened. You were shaking under his touch, terrified at the prospect of this, monster watching you when you were most vulnerable. During moments you had thought you were alone. Private moments. And how had he even known where your friends had hidden you? "-do you ever think about me?" He repeated, pressing into you as a warning that if you dared to lie, to even consider it, he would know. The frail, wooden wardrobe shook at the movement.

"Yes." You whispered, barely audible, eyes focused on anything but his face.

He removed his hand from your left wrist and tilted your jaw so that your eyes were forced to look into his brown ones. Angel's eyes, yet lacking Angel's warmth.

"Good, good." He dragged the words out as his tongue darted out to lick his lips.

Your eyes fell to his mouth, then hurriedly went back to his eyes. He was smirking, he'd noticed.

"And how," his face morphed into a vampire's, "does it make you feel?"

Tears brimmed in your eyes as he grinned, revealing his fanged teeth. A warning. It was pointless- his teeth would end up buried in your neck no matter what you said.

"Good." A salty tear fell onto your cheek, which he instantly swiped away with his thumb. "And I hate myself for it." You mumbled, voice breaking. You had always had an attraction to Angel, even during his relationship with Buffy, and the shame of it was suffocating. She had never been anything but good to you, and you had repaid her by stealing glances at Angel whenever you thought no one was looking.

However now it became clear that someone had been.

"What was that?" Angelus lowered his fangs towards your neck at a tantalisingly slow rate. As though he meant to drag out the pain, to burn this memory into your brain.

Your eyes fluttered closed in preparation as you whispered, "I hate myself for it every, day."

A small scream left your mouth as the door to Angel's apartment was broken off its hinges, clattering onto the floor only inches away from where the two of you were. Buffy.

Angelus slowly pulled himself off of you. As a result of the interruption, his fangs had only managed to puncture the top layer of skin, leaving behind two red dots that quickly began to pool with blood. Angelus licked the smudge of red off of his fangs, making a show of savouring the taste.

Your best friend and mentor, the slayer, began to fight the vampire as you tried to help at every possible opening, but it was no use. He easily escaped.

Your neck on fire, you gently brushed the tips of your fingers against it, pulling your hand away to see them coated in crimson blood. Something told you that Angelus would be back for more.

thank you for reading!! lmk your thoughts <33

[specialagentlokitty]

Giles x reader - my immortal love

I’d love a fanfic where Giles falls for a vampire (I’d feel like he’d tell himself not to) - @hungrybaby89 💜

Looking at the slayer that landed at your feet, you crouched down, poking her head a couple of times, trying to wake her up.

You hummed, and you looked around, trying to see if she was with anybody, but you couldn’t see or sense any other humans nearby.

You snapped your head up to the vampire in front of you and growled, making him step back, raising his hands.

“I didn’t know…”

He backed up a few steps, and the moment he turned around you threw the stake through his heart and began to leave.

You then stopped and grumbled to yourself, making your way back over you picked up the slayer.

“Oh yes, wonderful idea. Let’s save the slayer, so she can stake me through the heart…” you grumbled.

You made your way on to the street, and headed in the only direction you knew to take her, the only place she would be pretty safe.

Making your way to the school, you wondered through the hallways, and you heard noises coming from one of the classrooms but you paid it no mind.

You walked into an empty classroom and set her down, leaving the room you came back some some things and cleaned the cut on her head, stitching it up for her.

Picking her up again, you made your way down the hall and set her in the floor, then you opened the door to the library, walking in.

“Hello, I have something that belongs to you I think.”

A crossbow was pointed and you raised your hands.

“What?” The British man snapped.

“Smallish human, lurks in the cemetery most nights, goes by the slayer I don’t know her name.”

“Buffy?! What did you do?!” Xander growled.

You slowly lowered your hands and buried your nose in the fabric of your scarf.

“Put the crossbow down and maybe I’ll tell you.”

“How about we put a stake in your heart?” Xander responded.

You shrugged a little bit.

“You could, but then you won’t know where the girl is, so, your call. She could be dying for all you know.”

They all began whispering, keeping an eye on you and finally the crossbow was set down on the table.

Giles nodded his head, and he grabbed a stake instead, as did Xander and Willow.

“No crossbow, take us to Buffy and we might let you go.”

You walked out the door, and you walked around the slayer on the floor, making your way down the hallway.

You turned around, stopping in your tracks, watching as they crowded around her.

“She’s alive, tell her she shouldn’t be so reckless, any other vampire would gladly kill her.”

With that you turned around and left, making your way back outside to wonder for a few hours before you had to go back into hiding for the day.

Buffy sat up, rubbing her head slightly.

“Buffy thank goodness, are you alright?” Giles asked.

“What happened?” Willow asked next.

Buffy furrowed her brows a little, shuffling to sit on the edge of the table.

“My head hurts a bit…”

She raised her hand, feeling the stitches.

“You’re getting better Giles, nearly professional.”

Giles cleared his throat, picking up a chair he put it down in front of her and slowly sat down, taking his glasses off to run a hand down his face.

“That wasn’t me, you were already stitched up when you were on the floor outside the library.” He said.

“Who?”

Xander and Giles said nothing, and Buffy turned to willow who was doing anything to avoid looking at her best friend.

“Who brought me here?”

“(Y/N)!” Willow blurted.

“Spikes sister?!”

Giles sighed, nodding his head.

“The one and only, you were already patched up when you came here, she just brought you here then left.”

“Why?” Buffy asked.

“Well, we’ll be sure to ask the insane vampires when we next see them. Or we could just stake her and get it done with.” Xander said.

They began to talk about their next move, but none of them could shake the wonder as to why you would save the slayer.

The very same person who was tried to kill you numerous times, and nothing they thought about or came up with made up.

It was only a few nights later when she saw you again, sitting on top of a crypt in the cemetery, swinging your legs back and forth as you read a book.

“We need to talk.” Buffy said.

You looked down from your book.

“Go on then, I’m listening.”

“Not here, and with everybody. We want answers from you.”

You closed the book, and you pushed yourself down, landing on the floor.

“I suppose you do, I can’t say I blame you. Lead the way.”

You were led to a different place this time, and you stood at the door, book in your hand as you watched them all aim their weapons at you.

“Come in.” Giles said.

You took a slow step inside, pushing the door closed behind you and you set your book on the desk, sitting down in the chair.

Buffy walked over, and she wrapped chains around the chair, around you.

She stepped away when she was done and they all watched you for a moment.

“Why did you rescue me?” Buffy asked.

“Is it so bad for me to be doing the right thing?”

“When you’re related to Spike, yeah.” Xander said.

You gave a small shrug, and they asked a few more questions which you didn’t seem much interested in answering.

“Fine, then you stay here until you tell us what we want to know.” Buffy shrugged.

“Do I not get a say in this? It is my house.”

“Giles where else are we going to keep here that’s away from everybody? Away from Spike?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Fine, but you’re helping make sure that she is somewhere secure.”

So, after a few hours of working that’s what they did, Giles rearranged some shelves to keep the sunlight away from you and you were confined to a small corner of his home.

The students all left and you leant back against the wall, plucking one of the books from the shelf and you began to flick through it.

Giles sat at his desk, taking a sip of scotch as he tried to do some research.

He heard the chains rattled as you moved about and he turned to look at you.

“Must you keep moving?” He asked.

“No, I just want to.” He sighed.

Setting his glasses down he picked up his chair and walked over, sitting just out of your reached and he looked at you.

“Why did you save Buffy?”

“Because I can.”

He shook his head.

“No, you have a reason behind this. All the information on you clearly states that you are methodical in what you do, you never do anything without weight up the pros and cons.”

You shrugged.

“So what? I think about what I do, that’s not illegal.”

“No, maybe not. But it does make you incredibly dangerous. You nearly wiped out a whole empire. So, there is always a reason behind what you do. You could have killed buffy, you could have chosen not to come with her, so tell me why.”

“What if I don’t? Then what?”

Giles got up, grabbing a cross and some holy water he sat down in front of you again, setting them next to his leg.

“You will.”

You didn’t seem scared of his threat, you could tell that it was empty, he wasn’t actually going to do anything to you.

Despite the fact you were a vampire you had made no clear effort to hurt any of them.

So, for nearly a week that’s how it went, he would try get you to talk and you wouldn’t, you simply just ignored him, settling for reading.

And he realised that was the key.

This time he came back, and he sat in front of you, holding up a book.

“That’s mine.”

“You tell me what I need to know and I’ll give it back to you, do we have a deal?”

You looked between him and the book, clearly you were attached to it.

Giles reached over, going to hold it over a candle.

“Fine!”

He pulled it back, setting it down in his lap.

“I saved the girl because either way, whether she lived or died there is going to be a slayer, it’s the natural order of things whether my brother likes it or not. She just happens to be here and knows what she’s doing.”

“I see, so there is a reason why you saved Buffy.”

You nodded your head, laying on your back, hands on your stomach as you stared up at the ceiling.

“Spike wants to destroy the world along with everything in it, which means no food for us. Now, I don’t know about humans but for a vampire starvation is a bitch, it’s not fun at all. If he keeps up his way, he’s going to ruin a perfectly good world in which we live for many years.”

Giles furrowed his brows a little, leaning forward slightly.

“You don’t agree with him, do you?”

“No. I don’t. He can kill all the slayers he wants they’re going to keep coming back, there’s no stopping that, and eventually it’s going to get him killed.”

You turned your head to look at Giles.

“Maybe he deserves it, punishment for everything he’s done. He kills for fun, for sport.”

“You don’t? I read your history, and it seems like you’ve been doing the same thing as well.”

“Do some more research Rupert Giles, not everything is always as it seems. Just because it is written doesn’t mean it’s true.”

You held your hand out, and he reached over, handing you the book.

You sat up and opened it, flicking so many pages until you stopped and he got up to go do some more research.

“Do you know what he’s planning?”

“No, the moment he found out I didn’t agree with him he forced me to leave. Spike could never hurt me, but he could bare the fact I didn’t agree with him, so he kicked out in broad daylight.”

Giles turned to you, and he walked back over, crouching down.

“You need to do whatever you can to stop him, before it’s too late.”

“Is there anything you can tell us that may help?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

You rolled over on your side, and he could see the healing burns on your arms.

Giles got up, making his way back to his desk.

He stayed there for a few minutes and he got up, he wanted a book from the shelf but didn’t want to go near you.

“Can I have that book by your head, the red one?”

You passed it over and went back to staring at the wall.

When he left the following day you were still asleep, and when you woke up you began messing with the chains, and you unlocked them, walking across the house careful of the sunlight to the kitchen.

Sitting on the counter, you hummed to yourself as you opened a packet of biscuits, flicking through one of the books left in there.

Giles walked in, setting his bag at his desk, and he looked to your corner before turning back to the desk.

He froze, rushing over he whipped around to look for you, and he found you in the counter.

Walking over, he stood in the doorway, and you froze, biscuit in your mouth as you slowly closed the book.

“I’m not here.”

“How did you get out?”

“I’m not going to tell you that.”

He sighed, and he marched over, taking the biscuits from you.

Jumping down the counter, you tried to snatch them back, and he held them out of your reach.

“Does being a hostage mwan nothing to you?”

“No not really.”

You jumped up, taking the biscuits from him and you walked back into the living room, dodging the rays of sunlight.

“Is there any use in me putting those back on?”

“I mean if it makes you feel better sure, but I’m just going to do it again.”

“Right, and I guess that explains where half my food has been going.”

You grinned a little, slowly walking away from him as he tried to come closer.

“Alright, fine, you help us and we’ll let you go.”

You nodded in agreement, and you walked to his desk to see what he had.

Your nights were spent at the library with them, helping them with what they needed help with, and slowly you began earning their trust.

During the day you were confined to Giles’ house, wondering around and finding things to do to pass the time.

They began to trust you, seeing you weren’t as bad as history made you out to be, that everybody had a chance at redemption.

Giles began to grow used to having you around, it was nice having the company.

Especially on days off where he usually just sat around reading, he was trying to sort some of his things out while you were walking around reading.

Giles picked up your book to set it on the table, and he watched as something fell out.

Reaching down, he picked it up, sitting down on the couch as he looked at it.

He could instantly recognise it as a drawing of you, though as old as it was, paper yellowed with age, it was incredibly detailed, and you were wearing an elegant dress, a bright smile on your face.

“My mum painted it for me, the day before my wedding.”

“You’re married?”

You shook your head, sitting down next to him as you looked at the painting.

“No, i couldn’t go through with it, it felt wrong. I never really loved the man, my mum wanted me to marry him.”

“I see.”

“Not long later I fell sick, Spike, or rather at the time William saw the only path to go down was to turn me as well.”

Giles held the painting out to you, and you set it down on the table, taking the book you opened it and pulled out another.

He took it, a beautiful lake scenery, the dark sky with stars, a half moon in the sky.

“I painted this a few weeks later.”

“It’s so vibrant, full of life, full of soul. I thought vampires didn’t have souls?”

“We don’t, but that doesn’t mean we can’t find things beautiful Rupert. Most vampires meet a violent end, it’s what fuels their hate, I didn’t meet a violent end, I still saw beauty in the world, I still do.”

Giles set it aside with the other.

“Do you have one? A soul I mean.”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Sometimes I think I do, sometimes I think I don’t.”

He nodded his head, and he chuckled a little bit.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“You were going to get married, really?”

You punched his arm lightly and laughed softly.

“Yeah, I know even I can’t believe it. The only thing I’m disappointed about is I learned how to dance for nothing, those lessons were brutal.”

“That’s the only thing you’re disappointed about?”

You shrugged a bit.

“You live in those times you’ll understand it.”

Giles got up, making his way to the kitchen to put the kettle on, and you followed him, leaning on the counter.

“How old are you? The age you died?”

“I was in my thirties that much I remember, time starts to bleed all into one after a while.”

Giles nodded his head, turning his attention back to the kettle on the stove and while you hummed as you wondered away.

You sat on the floor, looking at the rays of sun just in front of you and he set your tea on the table.

Walking over Giles put his hands under your arms, dragging you away from the sun.

“You are going to get yourself burned or worse.”

“Not if I stay out of it directly, come on, it’s warm.”

Giles walked in front of you, crouching down so he could look at you.

“There’s other ways to feel warmth, sitting in front of one of the few things that can kill you doesn’t exactly seem appropriate does it now?”

You grinned sheepishly, your eyes gleaming with mischievous.

For the first time Giles noticed that your eyes were the softest (E/C) that he had ever seen in his life.

Unlike other vampires your eyes seemed so full of life, joy, compassion, warmth, gently, and so full of pain at the same time.

He cleared his throat and quickly stood up, grabbing his jacket.

“I must go, stay out of the sun.”

He quickly left, rushing out to his car and he sat in it, resting his forehead in the steering wheel.

He had been spending so much time with you he hadn’t even realised it, he was falling for you, and falling hard.

The way you laughed, smiled, danced around the rays of light to avoid them, how much you enjoyed reading, your jokes, the way you would ever so carefully move around him as not to accidentally hurt him.

“No… no.. no…” he whispered.

He had criticised Buffy for this exact thing, criticised her for falling in love with a vampire.

“You cannot love a vampire Rupert.. you cannot..” he whispered to himself.

Admittedly you were absolutely gorgeous, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, one of the perks to being a vampire.

But you were supposed to be the enemy, you were only helping them on account of the same goal in mind on stopping Spike.

He took a drive, trying to clear his mind, and after a few hours he returned.

He walked through the door, content with the fact he had cleared his head, confirmed he wasn’t in love with you.

Hanging his jacket up, he took a small breath and turned around to find you playing one of his records, dancing to to yourself.

You looked absolutely stunning, moved like water, not a single sound or step from you, you had your eyes closed and seemed lost in your own world.

He tore his gaze form you and he quickly rushed away, pretending he didn’t notice.

Making his way into the bathroom, he locked the door and stood in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection.

“Dear god… I’m falling for a vampire…” he whispered

[itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland]

Finding Peace Pt.2: Smooth Operator (Spike x y/n)

Request: no. Part 2 of the Multi fic

Warning: None.

Summary: Spike finds out about your secret. He is enraged and hurt. He is seeking within himself what to do.

Previous | Next

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In the back a figure appears. Darkness consumes their silhouette. He picks a table in the back, away from the multitude of people. He spots her at a distance.

He scowls at her. Watching her dance in the crowd of the Bronze enraged him.  So carefree and distant. He felt like a fool for trusting her. Y/n if that was even your real name. 

He remembered the past with disdain. He was attentive to your words. Watchful of your needs. He listened when you spoke of past loves. He imagined what your life had been when you mentioned you were an orphan. He was there with you. He drank every word as if it were the only sustenance he needed. When you came into his world, found you working for Giles at the Magic Box he became enthralled with your voice. Attentive of your clumsy movements that contrasted your sharp knowledge of demons and the metaphysical. All a rouse. 

How naive he has gotten to have believed that you simply waltzed into his life. What a rube. No one that delightful, funny, and focused could exist without their own secret. 

He was disgusted by her flippant attitude after being discovered. He was even more disgusted that The Scoobies had welcomed her in so readily. However, he did note that Buffy was weary of y/n. How could she not? Another slayer. I’m sorry, a cursed slayer. 

A nearly 1,000 year old slayer cursed by a powerful witch for killing her vampire lover. Who could make this up? Now there is 3 slayers, all varying degrees of fucked up. 

He couldn’t figure out if he was more upset that she lied to him or that she believed he couldn't be trusted. Granted, they had just met. However, they spent 3 months of pure friendly bliss. The banter, laughter, teasing, the knowing glances... all for nothing. 

He was evil, yes, and he wasn't all too honest but she crossed a line. She blatantly became someone else. He understood why. Explaining her past did sound like an acid trip and she did need to keep a low profile to permit slayers step into their power without depending on her. Nevertheless, she hurt him. He thought they were friends! He thought she understood him! No. She pretended. She played him. 

He is cognizant that he omitted his true nature. Downplayed his vampy-ness, but that's neither here nor there. He was mad at her. She damaged him, just like all the rest. 

He watched her move her body with the music. Hips moving steady like a trance. The crowd molded with her permitting her to disappear and become one with the throng of sweaty bodies. He hated it. How could she have so much fun with these mortals? More pretending he guessed. 

He is caught off guard as he watches her walk up to him. 

"Wanna dance?" Y/n's breath is rushed. She is out of air from dancing.

Spike scoffs. "With you? Pass."

She tilts her head; a small smile plays on her lips. "Still mad, huh?"

His lips purse. Anger bubbling in his stomach. He wants to swear at her, grab her by the neck, whisper a threat or two. But he recollects himself, slightly. "This ain't my scene and neither are you."

"Just one song. A slow dance. Give me a chance to explain." She leans in hoping to persuade him. 

"Buzz off." He turns and walks away. 

Y/n is left alone at the table. Smile on her face, tears in her eyes. She decides to go back to the dance floor. 

She understands how she hurt Spike, but she had no choice. Being a cursed slayer was taboo. It brings so much baggage to have to be acknowledged and seen by others. 2 slayers was a problem, now 3 is chaos. Her role is to watch from a distance. Only offer guidance when there is no watcher, or the slayer has gone rogue. Y/n is good at hiding and pretending. Sometimes, like this time, she gets caught and that opens a can of worms. 

In the past her existence has been a source of shock and contention but never of a broken heart. Spike, her dear friend whom she became close to in the last 3months was now battling his own demons in regards to her. She hurt him by lying. She swore by her story, demonstrated genuineness and transparency. All for it to be a charade. 

She pondered how to make it up to him when he wouldn’t give her the time of day... err night. She missed him. His cheeky comments, his smile, the underlying big bad persona, everything. 

The lights dim, the tempo lowers. A slow song. Smooth operator by Sade. She looks back, hoping to make eye contact with Spike. A last invitation. He was nowhere to be seen. 

He's loved in seven languages

Defeated, she walks back to her table with the Scobie’s only to be grabbed by the arm. She's being pulled towards the dance floor. Ready for a fight she whips back only to see Spike. Before she can say anything he guides her hands to the back of his neck, and he places his hands on her hips. They start to sway to the song. 

Diamond life, lover boy

"Well, explain..." Spike says. 

She's taken aback by his words, "um, well... first off, I’m sorry I lied but I had to." A minute passes. They are locking eyes but no words are being exchanged. 

No place for beginners or sensitive hearts

Y/n feels self-conscious. Something that has rarely happened in the almost 1,000 year she has lived. She looks down.

"I was protecting you guys" she starts up again. "I have never met a slayer with friends. It has a different dynamic. More people to account for. I was afraid my reputation would damage what Buffy had, and by proxy, it would hurt you." She looked up again. His eyes never leaving her face. 

"You lied to protect me?" He mocked. "Love, you knew I was the big bad and still you toyed with me."

He's a smooth operator

"Don't start. You did not tell me what you really were. And I was not toying with you. I was trying to keep distance between us."

"Distance, eh? "

She sighed. It seemed hopeless to get him to see her side. She pulled away, hoping to leave things as they were but his hold was strong. She stayed put.

His eyes are like angels but his heart is cold

"What did you think of me, of us?" He questioned her. 

The question threw her off. She stammered. He became irritated. She knew that the only way to get his trust back was to be honest. To do that, she would have to sacrifice her pride. 

"I like you. You're a solid friend. I do not care that others think you're no good, I can see the light in you. And us? I thought we made a decent team, much to everyones dismay."

Smooth operator

He felt giddy. He never had a friend. Someone that valued him. Someone that saw him as he is. 

He mulled her words over, carefully. He assented and pulled her closer. She stilled in his arms for a moment before returning to their sway. 

"I'll allow it. Lie to me again and you'll regret it."

She chuckled knowing his threat was pointless and fake. 

Smooth operator

[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 😍

[emma-m-black]

Soul Mate Magic - Chapter Twelve

Rupert Giles x OC (FanFiction) - MATURE 18+

A new magical transfer comes to Sunnydale High, and ends up discovering a magical connection with our favorite Watcher.

OC is 19+ (Not a Minor), Age Gap, Slow Burn-ish (with a little preview thrown in there during the Bandy Candy Episode).

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Okay so I just finished writing Chapter 20!! I'm so glad that some people seem to be enjoying this story and reading it haha 🩷 I cannot wait to get these all uploaded, and it is taking all my willpower to not just post everything right now, but I'm gonna try and do a few days in between each post.

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Author Master List

Read: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven,

Chapter Twelve:

Since Christmas Eve, Rose had barely a moment to herself, suffocated by the constant presence of her new-found friends. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate their concern, but their pitiful glances and whispered conversations behind her back gnawed at her nerves. She needed time—time to breathe, time to think. She craved silence from their endless protection. When classes finally resumed, it was her first chance to at least be alone in the crowd, despite Buffy and Giles’s lingering disapproval.

The ride to Sunnydale High in Oz’s van was a brief escape, but not nearly enough. By the time Rose sat down for English, the weight of everything pressed on her once again. She let her mind wander, her pen idly scratching across the notebook page when she felt it—a flicker of magic, like the brush of cold air against her skin. Her notebook lifted ever so slightly off the desk.

Her heart pounded as she found a folded scrap of paper underneath. The ink had bled through hints of jagged letters on the other side. Rose glanced at Willow beside her, but her friend was engrossed in her own work. Slowly, with careful fingers, she unfolded the note beneath her book.

If you want answers, you need to get away from your annoyingly attached friends. Use the cafeteria exit. Your equally annoying family isn’t watching it. - Ethan

Her breath caught in her throat. Ethan. A trick, maybe, but what would her family gain from pretending to be him? And why now? Despite the warning bells ringing in her head, it was tempting. Ethan was part of Giles’s magical past—a piece of the puzzle Rose had been desperately trying to solve.

It’s worth the risk.

There was no slipping away unnoticed if Willow caught wind of her plan. Rose steadied her breath, whispering a word beneath it, “Subsisto.“ The world around her froze mid-motion: the teacher, the ticking clock, the tapping of pencils. Time held still as she darted from her seat, her bag and books clutched to her chest.

Once in the hall, the spell’s effect ebbed. She could already feel it faltering. Heart hammering in her chest, she rushed toward the cafeteria exit, knowing Willow would soon be on her trail. Sunlight blinded her as she burst through the doors, but she barely had time to register Ethan’s dark, triumphant smile before everything went black.

When Rose awoke, cold tile pressed against her cheek, the metallic stench of mildew filling her lungs. Disoriented, she blinked through the haze clouding her mind. Where am I? A dingy bathroom spun into focus, and her stomach twisted as fear anchored in her gut.

“What—?” Her voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper.

Ethan’s face came into view, a smirk plastered across his face as he crouched in front of her. “Why, hello love.”

Her first instinct was to lunge at him, but a sharp jolt of pain held her back. She looked down—her wrists were bound in thick iron cuffs, etched with runes that pulsed faintly. Chains rattled as she struggled, securing her to a rusted pipe behind her. Panic surged through her as she reached for her magic, only to find emptiness. The familiar spark was gone.

“They negate your magic.” Ethan’s voice dripped with amusement as Rose continued her futile attempts to summon her power. “Did you really think I’d meet you without a way to nullify your power? Plus, this keeps you hidden from both your lover and your family.”

Rose gritted her teeth. “So, this was all just a trap.”

“Yes and no,” Ethan replied, standing up and dusting off his hands. “I needed to separate you from your babysitters. As much as I enjoy chaos, I have information you want and I don’t need the band of misfits trying to kill me.”

Her mind raced, but it kept circling back to Giles—how furious he would be, how reckless she’d been. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

Ethan’s smile widened, a glint of malevolence in his eyes. “Because it will kill Ripper to know the truth, and nothing gives me more pleasure than watching him self-destruct. So don’t worry, today is not the day you die, Rose.”

His words struck like a knife, slicing through her resolve. The air around her felt heavier, suffocating. “Why do you hate him so much?” Rose spat, though her voice wavered.

“Hate? Oh, darling, I don’t hate him. I pity him.” Ethan crossed his arms, his tone thick with sarcasm. “Your white knight, hiding behind his books, preaching about morality when he’s done worse than most of the monsters he fights.”

Rose’s heart pounded in her chest. “If I’m here to just listen to you slander him, you’re wasting your breath. Rupert is a good man.”

“Is he now?” Ethan’s gaze bore into her. “Tell me, those feelings you have for him—do they feel real? Or are they just a spell, carefully crafted to bind you to him?”

Her blood ran cold. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s a spell, love.” His voice was low, almost gentle, as though he enjoyed watching her break. “Years ago, Ripper and I performed a little ritual. A spell to draw out the one person whose magic would perfectly complement our own. Someone who would satisfy every need, every desire. We were lonely men dear, you have to understand. However, it is my luck that your pesky family curse has made everything so much more fun. “

Rose’s breath hitched, the world around her narrowing into a suffocating tunnel. “A spell?“

Her heart splintered under the weight of his words. Everything she had felt—her attraction to Giles, her growing connection—was it all fabricated and by Giles himself? Tears stung the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to give Ethan the satisfaction of seeing her crumble.

“We thought we did it wrong, that it didn’t work. Then, to my surprise, about five years ago, I found him. Hugh was my everything; we complimented each other perfectly... until the Watchers killed him for using dark magic.” Ethan’s voice was quieter now, but the bitterness behind his words cut deep. Then he left the room, his retreat leaving a hollow silence.

Rose’s pulse quickened, her heart pounding against her chest. It wasn’t just the realization that Ethan had lost someone—someone who completed him, just like she thought Giles did for her—but the creeping fear that slithered into her mind. Was her bond with Giles just an illusion? Just another manipulation?

“So this is all revenge on Rupert because the Council killed the man you bewitched into loving you?” she asked, her voice strained as she pulled at the cuffs, trying to loosen her wrist even a fraction.

Ethan reappeared, a twisted smile tugging at his lips. “No, I’ve wanted revenge on Ripper for much longer than that. Hugh... he gave me a purpose, a new life. But now that he’s gone, what else is there?” He stepped forward, the glint of something cold in his hand catching Rose’s attention.

Her heart dropped as she saw the blade—a ceremonial dagger, its hilt adorned with the same runes that marked her family’s coven. Recognition hit her like a punch to the gut. “How did you get that?” Her voice trembled with fear she could no longer suppress.

“You’re not the only one with friends, love.” Ethan’s smirk deepened as he leaned casually against the doorframe. He twirled the dagger, the metal catching the dim light, making her stomach churn. “Now, here’s where you find yourself, Rose. I want access to your coven’s magic. In exchange, I’ll give you the spell to sever the magical aspect of your romantic connection with Ripper. He’ll still be your guardian in this little curse of yours, but you’ll be free from the... nasty effect your death will have on him.”

Rose felt the walls closing in, her breaths growing shallow as panic settled in her chest. “Why would I even bother? I’m going to die anyway. What difference does it make?” The words came out sharper than she intended, though beneath them was a thread of desperation she couldn’t mask.

“The spell, love.” Ethan’s eyes gleamed with a cruel satisfaction. “Judging by how close you two were when I first met you, I’d wager you’ve already consummated your bond—emotionally and physically. That’s how the spell fully connects, you see. It ties you to each other in ways you can’t escape. If you die...” He let the words hang in the air, his grin widening. “Rupert dies too.”

Rose’s heart stopped, her blood running cold. “What?” Her voice barely escaped her lips. A strangled whisper as the weight of his words settled on her like a shroud. “But...”

Ethan’s smile widened. “But I’m alive, aren’t I? See, I severed the connection between myself and Hugh long before his death. I’m not one for being tied down and when I realized the love, I felt was a result of the spell, I found a way to break it.” He paused, watching her intently, savoring her unraveling. “Unfortunately, we really did love each other, so it still felt like my heart was being ripped out when his was pierced with a dagger. So, here’s your dilemma, love. If you die, are you going to take Ripper with you?”

“No...” Rose’s throat tightened, her vision blurring as tears welled in her eyes. The book Anya had shown her—the passage about the bond—it had been true. All of it, just not in the context they thought. “No,” she whispered again, as if saying it enough times would make it false, but deep down, she knew. She had known for a while that what she felt was deep down was only magic.

“You really are unlucky, aren’t you?” Ethan cooed, circling her like a predator, savoring its prey. “Cursed by your ancestors and bewitched by a warlock... It’s almost poetic.”

The first tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it, but once it started, more followed. She couldn’t hold back the flood of emotions crashing into her all at once. The love she thought was hers—real and pure—was a fabrication, an enchantment woven into the very fabric of her being.

“So... it’s all a lie?” Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper. The room felt impossibly small, the walls pressing in as her heart broke into pieces.

“No, not entirely. The love I felt for Hugh was still there after I broke the spell, even when I didn’t want to feel it.” Ethan crouched down in front of her, brushing a tear from her cheek with a mockingly gentle touch. “The connection would have been there, but without the spell and given your age differences, you’d have dismissed it as a fleeting crush. And Rupert, well, he would’ve remained the saintly, rule-abiding Watcher, keeping his distance, never acting on his feelings.”

A sob caught in her throat as another tear slipped free. Ethan’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched her crumble. “But I could have never expected what I would find here in Sunnydale, here you are... bound to him in ways you can’t control. Tell me, Rose, do you really want to take him with you to the grave?”

Rose closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the cold wall, feeling utterly defeated. Her mind raced, spinning through the impossible choices laid before her. She couldn’t bear the thought of Giles—Rupert—dying because of her. But to sever the bond meant surrendering to Ethan, allowing him into her coven’s magic. Was there any way out? Any path that wouldn’t end in ruin?

“I can’t do the ritual like this.” Her voice was hoarse, broken as she lifted her shackled wrists slightly in a half-hearted gesture.

“I’m well aware,” Ethan responded smoothly.

“Well?” Rose whispered, her voice trembling as she glanced down at the enchanted cuffs biting into her wrists.

“I’m not stupid, love,” Ethan replied smoothly, his tone condescending as he eyed her restraints. “I’m not releasing you until we’re ready for the ritual. Besides, I’d like Ripper to stew in his own guilt a little longer before we meet up again. Once the time comes, we’ll gather with your do-gooder friends, and once you’ve brought me into the coven, I’ll give you the spell to sever your connection with your beloved Watcher.”

He straightened himself, his gaze cold and calculating as it bore down on her. “But I think I’d like to see you a bit weaker before that. Can’t have you overpowering me, now can we? You see, with those cuffs binding you, the longer you and Ripper are apart, the weaker you’ll both become.” His smile was a cruel, deliberate thing, full of satisfaction. “Gotta even the playing field somehow, because I want to enjoy watching Rupert lose yet another woman he cares for.”

Rose’s heart pounded painfully in her chest as Ethan turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him. The moment she was alone, the silence of the musty bathroom swallowed her whole. It was as if every fear and doubt she’d been holding back came crashing down in an unrelenting wave. Her breath hitched, and before she could stop it, the sobs ripped from her throat, raw and helpless.

Her body shook as she cried, the weight of Ethan’s words crashing over her. Every tear that fell was a reminder of how trapped she was—physically, emotionally, magically. The truth carved itself deeper into her heart with every ragged breath. Her love for Giles twisted into a cruel, unnatural connection. It wasn’t real, none of it was real.

And yet, the pain that tore through her wasn’t a lie. The fear of what was happening to them—of what could happen to Giles—was all too real. Ethan’s game, his twisted manipulation, had reduced her to this—bound, broken, and desperate, with no clear way out.

Each sob that wracked her body felt like a betrayal of her own strength, but she couldn’t stop.

Chapter Thirteen

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Wednesday, September 11th - Part One

Xander is walking in a deserted street and sees Angel and Faith approach. XANDER: Hey guys! Man, where you been? You gotta find Buffy. She's going to her place and stocking up on ... Angel casually smacks Xander in the jaw without breaking stride. Xander falls limply to the ground. Faith doesn't even look at him. ANGEL: That guy just bugs me. Angel and Faith continue marching down the street.

~~Enemies~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

BtVS Triple Drabble: Always In Trouble by badly_knitted (Buffy, PG)

Weekly Drabbles #170 — Soothing by veronyxk84 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Hello, Old Friend by RavenLove12 (Giles/Ethan, E)

Negotiating by TheClowniestLivInExistence (Darla/Drusilla, M)

GRAVE DISTRACTION by KNZ1 (Buffy, Xander, M)

There's a Different Feel About You Tonight by Skyson (Buffy/Giles, M)

Glimpses of the Wasteland by Harlow_Turner (MadeInGold) (Buffy/Angel/Spike, Giles/Maggie, Riley/Graham, T)

Not Without Permission by Regent_Rando_nsfw (Regent_of_RarePairs) (Giles/Spike, E)

Secrets & Apologies by Regent_of_RarePairs (Giles/Spike, T)

The Other Kind of Lust by LiraelClayr007 (Giles/Spike, M)

Retaliation by sassaffrassa (Buffy/Spike, E)

Can't hear you... by LiraelClayr007 (Giles/Spike, E)

"Yeah...." Joan sighed, blowing out smoke from a second procured cigarette and stifling a cough... by hiddenbysuccubi (Buffy/Spike, unrated)

Outline: ... btvs / ats selfinsert au by asleepmottley (Angel/Spike, unrated)

Glimpses of the Wasteland by Harlow Turner (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

What the Drabble? Vol. 2 - ch. 70 by VeroNyxK84 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

[Chaptered Fiction]

Foregivenss - ch. 38 by slaymesoftly (Buffy/Spike, R)

Spies, High Stakes, and Secrets - ch. 1 by Rippertish (Buffy/Giles, E)

Finding Peace pt.13: Wanting (Spike x y/n) by itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland (Spike/reader, unrated)

Soul Mate Magic - Chapter One by emma-m-black (Giles/OC, rated M)

Soul Mate Magic - Chapter Two by emma-m-black (Giles/OC, rated M)

Next To Me - ch. 2 by Lilacsandorangeblossoms (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Because the Night - ch. 8 by CheekyKitten (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Truth and Consequences - ch. 24 by JamesMFan (Buffy/Spike, R)

Forgiveness Doesn't Come Easy - ch. 38 by slaymesoftly (Buffy/Spike, R)

Mysterious Destinies - ch. 9 by EnchantedWillow (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Into his mind - ch. 3-4 by rossshin (Buffy/Spike, G)

Next to me - ch. 2 by Lilacsandorangeblossoms (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Sweet Dreams (Or A Beautiful Nightmare) - ch. 3 by goodbyetoyou (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

To All We Guard - ch. 24 by simmony (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Forgiveness Doesn't Come Easy - ch. 38 by Slaymesoftly (Buffy/Spike, R)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Banner: 🎨 Banner Art #21 — For ThreeWordApocalypseFest by veronyxk84 (Buffy/Spike, worksafe)

Artwork: ☀️ATS 221. Through The Looking Glass ☀️ by tmcarlee (ensemble, worksafe)

Artwork: Little piece of buffy inspired art I made (A5, acrylic and ink on card) by jaw-jar (worksafe)

Artwork: i love you liar girl by bugaboooooooooo (Faith, worksafe)

Artwork: Discord shenanigans resulted in this by isevery0nehereverystoned (Spike, worksafe)

Artwork: Red ink test. by o-cm-draw-o (Buffy/Spike, worksafe)

Artwork: Ep. 2×03 "School hard" by o-cm-draw-o (Buffy/Spike, NSFW-ish)

Artwork: Ep. 5x07 "Fool for Love" by o-cm-draw-o (Buffy/Spike, worksafe)

Fanvid: Buffy the Vampire Slayer // I Wanna Be Your Joey Ramone by Sleater-Kinney by whale-music (Buffy/Faith, worksafe)

Fanvid: [Is Anybody Here?] by buffyannegiles (Buffy, Giles, worksafe)

Moodboard: Sanctuary Mood Board Watch Here (x) by theoverlookedoneedits1997 (ensemble, worksafe)

Manip / Wallpaper: A Big Rock by revello-drive-1630 (Drusilla, Angel, Spike, worksafe)

Gifset: Buffy Meme: [5/6] Faith/Buffy "You know what the messed up thing is?... by lovebvffys (Buffy/Faith, worksafe)

Gifset: [when the words of a sister come back in whispers] by detectivedawnsummers (Buffy/Faith, worksafe)

Gifset: Tara Maclay + Outfits (Season 5) by clarkgriffon (Tara, worksafe)

Gifset: Otpsource's 4 Year Anniversary Event DAY 1 - 'SCREW DESTINY': Bangel by buffyscmmers (Buffy/Angel, worksafe)

Gifset: Behind the scenes of Once More With Feeling, the Buffy the Vampire Slayer musical episode (x) by stronglikeayellowcrayon (ensemble, worksafe)

Gifset: BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER (2x05) ʀᴇᴘᴛɪʟᴇ ʙᴏʏ by likeafantasy (ensemble, worksafe)

Gifset: 2.01 Judgment | 2.18 Dead End Angel [1999 - 2004] by dailyats (ensemble, worksafe)

Fanvid: Monster | Buffy/Faith by thequeentaylor (Buffy/Faith, worksafe)

Fanvid: Mum - Buffy, Joyce & Dawn (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) by TheOverLookedOne (Buffy, Joyce, Dawn, worksafe)

[Reviews & Recaps]

Made a list of my favorite episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer by the order in which they aired in their respective seasons... by coraniaid

Out of Mind, Out of Sight Fashion Part Three by theoverlookedoneeddits1997

[Recs & In Search Of]

Book rec: btw this is great and I love it... by lilithhedwig

ISO: Limitlesstoys7 seeks reading order and recs for Buffy novels

[Community Announcements]

Buffyverse Slay-o-Ween Exchange 2024 [nominations now open] by fandomcalendar

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Fic prompt: Buffy and Dawn, childhood memories [seeking fic fill] by buffyversekinkmeme

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[wuxiaphoenix]

On Writing: Character Voice

Stories are about people. Maybe you have a fantastic world, maybe you have a really cool SF what-if (colonizing the rings of Jupiter!), maybe your characters are an alien and a sentient AI probe from Earth. Still. Stories are about people. And one of the ways to make characters come across as real, breathing individuals on the page, is to give them their own voices.

(This works for fanfics, too; though in that case you’re trying to catch the voice the creator has already established. The same elements apply.)

There are three major components I consider absolutely necessary to catch a character’s voice. Word choice, worldview, and scope of knowledge. Or in other words, would your character pick these words to say X is a problem? Would they actually consider X a problem? And do they know how big a problem X is in the first place?

Word choice is critical; it’s even been known to get people killed. There’s a story, possibly apocryphal, of a British commander calling his U.S. counterpart for help, describing his situation as being in “a bit of a tight spot.”

What the American GI heard: Eh, we have a problem, mind fitting us in when you have a chance?

What the British commander meant: We’re out of ammo and holding them off with knives and our teeth, get over here!

You see the problem.

Word choice helped make the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer memorable. The contrast of California Valley teen voices with a stuffy British Watcher and other far-less-slangy adults and teachers let you immediately identify who was going to be on which side when it came to dealing with the Monster of the Week, and who was likely to 1) make a bad situation worse or 2) get eaten. This was always particularly interesting when one of the Scoobies was mistaking a supernatural problem for something mundane, as this bit from Giles when Buffy asks if Xander’s possessed. “It’s devastating. He’s turned into a sixteen-year-old boy. Of course you’ll have to kill him....”

Which leads into worldview. For the past few years in Buffy’s life, every Major Problem has had a supernatural cause, and she can’t talk about it with anyone who doesn’t already know, or they’ll think she’s crazy. (Including, sadly, her parents.) So with most people she acts the ditzy if observant Valley Girl whose most serious problem is not having the right new outfit to hit the Bronze. Around those who know she still speaks Valley, but with a far more practical edge.

Giles, on the other hand, though trained as a Watcher, has lived many more years where serious problems were just other humans being humans. If it looks like a normal human problem, he treats it as such; the crossbow comes out later.

And here’s where scope of knowledge comes in. Buffy was on that zoo trip, she saw the change in Xander’s behavior. On top of that she takes classes with Willow and Xander every day; she knows how they interact. She saw a sudden shift with a possible identifiable trigger. Giles sees them all less hours of the day, he’s more likely not to have noticed anything except lamentable Teenage Guyness. Until his poking in the stacks finds the Primals. Once he knows, he goes from mentor dealing with unfortunate teenage realities to Watcher with an evil zookeeper to stomp.

...As it turns out at the end, he’s not entirely wrong even before that. Xander is a teenage guy - who normally does not behave in such a cruel fashion because he knows better.

Xander (facing Giles after having proclaimed amnesia to his friends): ...Shoot me, stuff me, mount me.

Giles (dryly): Your secret... dies with me.

Consider what your characters would say. Consider what they think, and what they know. The hero who’s never met zombies at the start of the story will have much different things to say once he’s survived a few chain-swarms!

[evieelyzabethh]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐞𝐝

pairing(s): spike x demon!reader

summary: watching the man you love fawn over someone else is always hard, especially when you know you could love him better.

warnings: angst with a happy ending, later seasons Spike, soft Spike, the reader is a demon so old that no one knows your name and they call you Honey.

Spike was an actor, but William was a poet. This was easy to tell when watching Spike act as if he wasn't in love with Buffy. William would've written her a sonnet, presented her with a rose and some ridiculously expensive necklace. The image of a stone glittering around her neck would've inspired dozens of lines of prose, enough to keep her image alive in those fateful moments when she wasn't there to be looked upon. Spike looked. He watched. He stalked. It was his bad boy persona, the leather jacket hiding the heart that still beat out of his chest. Some things never changed.

This new apocalypse had changed something, though, that and the fact that Buffy had now come back from the dead a second time. You thought it would make her more formidable. A cockroach. Through apocalypse after apocalypse, thick and thin, even death, she was never really gone. Whether she was crawling, suffering, or drowning, she always came back. You liked Buffy, you were friends, or whatever she called the unhumans she hung around who wasn't dating her or one of her friends.

She kept you at an arms width ever since she found you back before her first death. In a bottle or a vase, something old and dusty that tipped over in the library and through smoke you materialized. You didn't remember much; you didn't remember anything. The collection of you took days, like assembling some million and one pieced puzzle. Pieces were lost along the way, Giles bet that somewhere between your brain being assembled and your bones hardening that your memory slipped through the cracks of the old hardwood flooring and was lost to the Hell Mouth beneath. He also said that if the memory was so heavy it sank, it wasn't worth remembering anyways.

This being said, it made since that she wasn't immediately open to letting you in and you were fine with that. You didn't know how to exist otherwise. Feelings were also lost on you, along with your name, and breathing, and speaking. You read a lot, after being placed in Giles' care, you only ever were in the school library or his personal library in his apartment, and being born again, you now had a broken vocabulary of unnatural and old English.

It was Willow who named you Honey. She told you hot tea helped with the healing vocal cords and that honey would hopefully act as a sticky cement so they would stay together. Lots of honey was what you consumed until your presence became synonymous with honey and then that became your name. Remembering to breath came soon after, it made your human company that much more relaxed around you. That and the fact that because you were so broken, you weren't deemed a threat.

Feelings came crashing after the fact.

Angelus' return took a toll on Buffy and Spikes appearance began your ascension. You had read classics before; Giles didn't exactly keep copies of Dr. Seuss or even Baum. It was all Bronte, Shelly, or Austen. Writers who taught you that humans love and to love is human and you didn't understand at all not until

"And who might you be, love?"

What are you wasn't the question and he called you "love". Could you be called love, was that something you could be. With how much honey you consumed, you probably were part honey, but even outside of that, when the humans introduce themselves, they say "I am..." so you said "I am Honey" to fit in.

But he called you Love.

You didn't doubt Willow, but you wondered if being Honey was a mistake, if being love was an option. To be love would mean to have love and how did one do that.

"I am Honey." you replied. 3 words that didn't even scratch the surface of what you wanted to say. Maybe speech was more lost on you than you thought.

A lot of time had passed since then. A few apocalypses, a more modern and appropriate speech pattern, plenty of feelings and more importantly, the knowledge that feelings couldn't be shared.

Being so far removed from everyone else made it easy to notice things that they didn't. You noticed her push him away. You had heard him confess. You had become friends after a while, and there were many moments when you would be in his crypt talking to him in between bottles of wine and blood, pigs' blood after he became aware of his feelings. He told you about her, he raved about her bravery, he retold her jokes. The affect she had on him was palpable, impossible to ignore. His lips spoke of Buffy, he cried tears that reflected Buffy, even when he looked at you, he was looking for pieces of Buffy. That was the only explanation for why he would look at you for so long. You weren't a genius, you weren't even a poet, but you knew better than to delude yourself. And yet

He looked at you.

He watched you. He saw you. He perceived you; and it was so beautiful.

He also told you of Dru. She would have moments of clarity when she would revert to the ghost of who she was before Angelus drove her insane. Moments when she would look at the stars, not because she was seeing things, but because she was looking at them. Like the haze of one thousand years had cleared and she was looking at the stars, not shiny shards of glass wedged in a rocky ceiling. She stopped echoing wishes, and she made them. He even told you her favorite wish. She wanted a pretty dress to go to a pretty ball. It was so normal and human. She wanted to exist and be a girl in her own time again, like it used to be. Maybe she also wanted to be human.

Sometimes, if you found the strength in you to stomach it, you liked to think he looked at you like how she used to look at the stars. Like Buffy was his pipe dream and you were what he really wanted.

It wasn't a stretch of the imagination. She was a slayer, and he was a vampire. She is a pipe dream. She was the false stars of shattered glass, she was dangerous to him, she would hurt him. She has hurt him.

Every time he told her he loved her, she told him no. A step worse than rejection, she denied he even could love her. Demons weren't capable of love; he was experiencing obsession. He wanted to own her, to take her, ravish her and leave her a husk of who she used to be then toss her when the infatuation faded. He didn't need to, she already was. Death did that to her, she didn't need Spike to finish the job. And obsession. If what Spike felt towards her was obsession, then what the hell was she feeling.

This all lead to today. An old show playing on the boxy television, sitting on a newly stolen couch, occasionally passing a bowl of popcorn between the two of you. The show was a cheesy vampire comedy where the main character had finally cornered the terrifying "Dracula" and staked him with a cartoonishly large stake. "Blood squirted everywhere, coating the main character with what was probably corn syrup, chocolate syrup, and red food dye.

"That is totally unrealistic. Us vampires don't bleed, and he would've seen that stake from a mile away." he said while tossing a handful of popcorn at the screen.

"I doubt they had a way to turn him to dust back in like the 40's." he scoffed at your nonchalance.

"This is ridiculous. Us vampires need better representation on the telly, they're makin' us look like bumbling idiots." you can' help but laugh at his dramatics. In his rage, his hair had fallen out of place. It wasn't gelled like it usually was, a mistake he'll probably rectify in a few hours when the sun goes down.

"I didn't know you took such pride in being a vampire." He dramatically jumps to face you, a disgusted look on his face.

"Of bloody course I do. Why on Earth would I want to be human."

"Maybe Buffy would like you if you were human." For anyone else it would've been a low blow, but he lets you slide. That and the fact that beneath the mocking tone you took, you didn't laugh at it all that much.

"Would you want to be human, love?" There it is again. You should be used to it by now, but you still every time you hear it from him. Maybe because when it comes from him you want it. You had been on dates with other guys, some of whom confessed to you. The Scoobies told you they loved you multiple times before, even better, they all meant it and the feeling is mutual. Why is it still so much different with him.

"I don't know, I think it could be nice. I think life would be easier." He smiled.

"Why? You're not a vampire, you can frolic in the sun as much as you'd like." you shake your head.

"That's not it." What could it be? Spike wasn't often confused, as a matter of fact he was extremely self-assured, but he couldn't figure out what you were missing out on. He'd much rather be in you position than to remember every sin he's ever committed. You got the immortality and the powers with none of the guilt that comes with it.

"If I was human, I wouldn't be nearly as confused. I'd know more, I guess."

"But what if you never lost your memory? Knowing things wouldn't be an issue." If only knowing your name was the knowledge you were seeking.

"Knowing things wouldn't be an issue but there are some uniquely human things I can't experience because I'm not a human."

"Like what?" Being human at one point was interesting, it was so ingrained in Spike he couldn't imagine what it would be like for feelings to not be second nature. He never needed to understand them, feeling them was more than enough.

"I don't know because I'm not human. I don't know what I'm missing, but I'm missing something." Quit beating around the bush.

"What if you didn't need to be human and it just fell out?"

"What is so bad about being human that it fell out."

"Trust me, as a former human myself, there is plenty to hate about being human. They're puny and pathetic." He pulled a pack of cigarettes from the couch along then struck a match against a loose plank of wood. Bringing it to his lips, he inhaled the smoke and blew it away from your face, but the breeze from an open (broken) window whisked it towards your face anyway.

"But is that because you were human, or because you are you?" His gaze hardened at how quick the answer came.

"You think I was pathetic?" The fallen embers came onto his pants, but he paid them no mind.

"You think you used to be pathetic." Though this was true, a part of him felt offended. Even stranger, he didn't know which part.

"Because I was. I was human and emotional and a bloody mess, because I was human. Demons don't feel anything which is far better than feeling and getting hurt."

"But you aren't demon enough to know what it means to feel nothing!" You weren't a demon to him, though. It would've been easy for him to forget that you weren't one of those pesky humans had it not been for your distinctly not human scent. It was like whisky, rich and old and expensive. Too expensive to break open and drink because it grew more valuable with time. He'd do anything for you not to go to waste.

"And if you want to feel so badly, you can't possibly be that much of a demon!" To waste you would for you to be human. They're too fragile. They die. Spike longed to be a demon because at his core, he was a coward. He didn't want to die. Judging by how much you yearned to be human, you feared loneliness more.

"Why do you love Buffy so much." Ah, the point.

Spike was many things. A bastard, one of those British nancy boys, a coward, a freak. A thing he prided himself the most on was his intellect. He was insightful, he could be emotionally intelligent when he wanted to be. This was the important part.

A part of him knew his best friend loved him. A part he profusely ignored because he was only emotionally intelligent when he wanted to be. He could admit that he was intellectual and intelligent and at times wise, he believed those to be self-evident truths, cornerstones of his Spikeism. He's the brooding, yet insightful, bad boy with a heart of gold who does the right thing when it conveniences him. He's an actor and this was the character he's had centuries to build, and he'd be damned it cracked because then he'd be proving that he was never anything more than William "The Bloody Bad Poet".

Maybe self-hatred was the root of it. The inescapable need- no instinct, to kick himself in the ass at any possible opportunity, was why he ignored you. It had to be some sick penchant for pain, or the belief that he wasn't deserving of good things, because if you were nothing else, you were good to him which meant you deserved better than him.

But altruism doesn't fit into the paradigm of Spike. Altruism is William's thing which made this so much more horrifying. William loved you. Spike loving you meant nothing because he didn't really mean it. The stage kisses and the dramatized sex scenes were suffocatingly filled with false passion, more passion than humanly possible. Spike loved hard, William loved deeply, and both loved you. It couldn't be undone, but it could be forgotten.

"I don't know." Those 3 words didn't even begin to scratch the surface of why he "loved" her.

"But all I know of love comes from you, I learned it from you, and you don't know why you love her?" You wanted to cry, and you hated it. If you could take it back, you would. You wished you had shut your mouth and watched the stupid show that was still playing as you had this argument.

"Love isn't something you explain." He put distance between the two of you, standing up and walking away from the couch in search for a bottle of alcohol. He wasn't planning on you following him, following closer than the tail of his leather duster.

You threw the alcohol before his hand even grazed it, smashing it against the concrete walls of his crypt. Positioning yourself between himself and the makeshift table that used to be a grave, you stood your ground. Blinking back tears because the second water hit that cement you were done for.

"Then show me. That's how I learned before." He clenched then unclenched his jaw. Buffy was all over him, but you were inside of him. The air he breathed, the blood in his veins, the force making his heart beat was you and it always had been. "Show me."

He was scared.

"What if you don't understand." He was stalling. For too long he hadn't been allowed to have anything. Dru was never his because Angelus had ingrained his way into her very being. Buffy was never realistic, and even if she was, she was human. One day she'd die, and he'd move on long before that date anyways. You were so attainable, and you were willing to be his. What if he fucked up. He has, right in front of him, sharing breaths mere inches from each other, everything he had ever wanted, and he didn't even have to fight for it. Handed to him on a silver platter was the key to the universe, but he could find a way to fuck it up. He always did.

"You don't know that." He held your head in his hands, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. His world in the palm of his hands. What if he dropped it.

"You love me?"

"I didn't even know what love was before I met you." You whispered it and he shattered. He kissed you, as if he could pull the sound from your lips so that your confession him that could replay forever in his mind. Like he was sealing some sort of promise so you couldn't take it back.

"I love you." He said in between kisses. "I love you so much it hurts." He kissed you on the forehead." I love you so much it makes me feel alive again." He kissed you on your right cheek, "Longed for you like the sun and cherished you like the stars, I love you.", then on the left.

He looked you in the eyes before kissing you again. As if he wouldn't be there to say it again, as if you could somehow forget it, he said it once more.

"I love you."

[oncemorewithqueering]

Does anyone want to hear my Buffy and Angel sexuality headcanons?

No?

Well here we go:

*DISCLAIMER: THESE ARE MY OPINIONS, NOT FACT. IF YOU DISAGREE, PLEASE DO NOT HATE AND FEEL FREE TO TELL ME OTHERWISE POLITELY*

Buffy: Have you seen the way Buffy looks at Faith? She’s bi imo with a strong preference for guys. Also, I loved the Slayer coming out scene to Joyce so much ahh

Willow: I have always been super conflicted about Willow bc, like, yes it’s bi erasure but also she says that she’s a ‘lesbian now’

So I think she’s abrosexual but constantly likes girls

Xander: Ik Xander screams hetero energy BUT hear me out

I think Xander’s little freak out about Willow came from a place of Bi curiosity

Giles: I have nothing to say but Ethan Rayne

Faith: Faith, my girlfriend for all time, could be bi or pan. I think she’s pan bc she just seems like gender doesn’t matter

go get that Buffy girl

Angel, Spike, Drusilla and Darla: My little headcanon is that all vampires are bi/pan. I think Dru and Darla show less preference for men, so I thought they might be pan

Cordelia: Cordy is that straight friend who takes you to pride and twenty (20) seconds later she’s chatting up like 15 men and women, but she’s still straight

Anya: Same logic as the vamps. She’s a demon. She used to be immortal. She probably likes everyone.

Wesley: *cough cough* CHARLES GUNN. I see you Wesley.

Fred: Fred, my gf who will never love me. I just don’t get a queer vibe.

Lorne: They did Lorne SO DIRTY! He is totally gay. The musicals. The pseudo-coming out storyline. Wizard of Oz. I don’t mean to feed into stereotyped but…

Andrew: Yes I put him before Gunn. Yes, I did forget him in the Buffy section.

Andrew and his Warren crush are proof enough to me tbh.

Gunn: Gunn my sweet baby boy please go kiss Wesley ok bye

Ethan Rayne: He loves Giles. Need I say more

Oz: Oz gives me bicurious energy. Not fully bi, not fully straight. Just drifting around. Love him

Dawn: Dawn is just a lovely little straight daughter of two gays. I love that for her

Tara: Tara is last, but not least, because this is canon! Go her! Also rip

ok thank you for listening bye bye love you x

[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.

[fandomtravelers]

Found family dynamics in shows

Okay I'm a sucker for found family dynamics in shows so I'm going to list all the found family or platonic relationships I know of. In TV shows/series. Just because :) ALSO please add if you know more, because I'm probably missing a whole lot. I JUST WANT MORE.

Here are the ones me and my friends know or have found (some might be father daughter centric and they're all from very random fandoms so excuse that) :

1. Kakashi & Team 7 (Naruto)

2. Anakin & Ahsoka & Obiwan (Clone wars. I know the whole star wars universe too, but I'm focusing on clone wars)

3. Kate Bishop & Clint Barton (Hawkeye)

4. Farah Dowling & Bloom (Fate : Winx)

4. Charming & Emma (Once Upon A Time)

5. Bay Kennish & Daphne Vasquez (Switched at Birth)

6. Cirilla & Geralt (The Witcher)

7. Calliope & Augie (tidelanders)

8. Byakuya & Rukia (Bleach)

9. Sara & Danny (Witchblade)

10. Georgia & Rube (Dead like me)

11. Silco & Jinx, Vander & Vi (Arcane)

12. Andrè & Jane (Painkiller Jane)

13. Jamie & Jonas & Jay (Bionic woman)

14. Dr. Tom & Erica (Being Erica)

15. The pines family (Gravity falls)

16. Tom & Cassie (the inbetween)

17. The Gaang & Team Avatar (Avatar the last Airbender & Legend of korra)

18. Kara & Clark (Supergirl & superman/batman apocalypse)

19. Charlie & Miles matheson (revolution)

20. Arthur & Joan & Auggie & Annie (Covert affairs)

21. Khlyen & Dutch (Killjoys)

22. Guerrero & Ames (Human Target)

23. Adam & Emma (Mutant X)

24. Nolan & Emily "Amanda" (Revenge)

25. Voight & his whole team (Chicago P. D.)

26. Elena & Jeremy (Bitten)

27. Jinggang & Chu hun (double world)

28. Hannibal & Abigail (Hannibal)

29. Dream & Death (The sandman)

30. Jiwoo & Mujin (My name)

31. Buffy & Giles (BTVS)

32. Benedict & his kids (Mysterious Benedict society)

33. The cullen family (twilight)

34. Elijah & Yo Han (the devil's judge)

35. Magnus & Clary (Shadow hunters)

36. Gu xiang & Wen Kexing (Word of honor (Cdrama))

37. Optimus & the human kids (Transformers prime)

38. Mildred & her teachers (Mainly miss hardbroom)

39. Dylan & Lizzie (instinct)

40. Marina & Arturo (A private affair)

41. Moiraine & Lan (Wheel of time)

42. the BAU team (Criminal minds)

43. The SVU team (Law & Order : SVU)

44. Ellie & Joel (TLOU)

45. Barbara & the batfam (Batgirl, batman comics)

46. Carmen & Shadow San (Carmen sandiego)

47. Nile & the rest of the old guard (the old guard)

48. Nick Fury & Maria Hill (secret invasion)

49. Jordan & Garrett (crossing Jordan)

50. America chavez & Doctor strange (Multiverse of Madness)

51. The Eternals (Eternals)

52. Enola & Sherlock (Enola Holmes)

53. NCIS team/family (NCIS)

54. Aizawa & his kids (BNHA)

55. Abigail & Ichabod (Sleepy Hollow)

56. Carol & Kamala (The Marvels)

57. Gojo & his students (JJK)

58. The golden trio (HP)

59. Ryan & Max (The following)

60. ICC team (crossing lines)