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snoggedTitle: Finding Faults
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t.
Pairing: Willow/Riley (implied Willow/Tara, Riley/Buffy)
Word Count: 1756
Rating: FRM/R – angst, adult language, sexual implications, addiction themes
Setting: Season 5 – “Listening To Fear”
Summary: Willow discovers Riley's habit...
Betas: The irreplaceable and truly fantastic![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
angelskuuipo and purplefeen.
A/N: written as a belated birthday present for Gabrielle. I know it’s probably not quite what you had in mind when you prompted me with a pairing I’d never written before, but I hope that you’ll enjoy it.
Riley stumbled out of the vampire brothel, forcing himself to look calm and collected even though his arm muscles ached with a dull, throbbing pain. It was a pain that marked him, betrayed him, stripped him of what he was. The years he’d spent training to be an Initiative soldier felt wasted by the knowledge that he was letting sub-terrestrial trash feed from him. And for what? So he could feel the rush he thought Buffy got from letting that blood sucker, Dracula, nibble at her skin? So he could feel the explosive pounding of his heart as it desperately tried to keep the blood from leaving his body?
Fuck.
If that were the truth, then why did he feel so dirty? So trapped in this state of mental wrongness? There was nothing right about what he was doing, nothing right about this addiction. There was nothing about it that felt like him. But he didn’t want to stop either. As much as he hated himself for doing it, he knew that tomorrow night would be the same as tonight. That he’d go back to that dank pit the same way a boozehound traveled to the bar to drown his sorrows in a fifth of gin.
The sidewalk seemed as endless as his thoughts as he headed in the direction of UC-Sunnydale, and it wasn’t until he heard the shrieking giggle of a woman that he finally got out of his head. The soldier in him grimaced in concern, wondering what sort of demon had gotten his hands on her and whether or not he needed to call back-up. The college boy in him, however, couldn’t help but notice multiple girlish giggles and as he turned the corner, he nearly bumped into the gaggle of scantily-clad sorority sisters who reeked of beer.
“Hey baby,” one slurred as they saw him. “Wanna party? We can show you…a really, really, really… good time.”
As they huddled around him, invading his personal space, he could see the glazed look in their eyes. The same look he caught in that vampire’s eyes when she was sucking on the crook of his elbow, and moaning like a two-cent whore. And it disgusted him. “No thanks, ladies.”
His eyes caught an opening in their circle, and he pushed his way through them, breaking into an almost run as he headed towards the dormitories. He watched a young freshman push through a door, and without thinking, he reached out and grabbed the door handle in order to stop it from closing. It wasn’t until he was half-way down the stairs that he realized he’d picked the wrong dorm- but the large, plush couches decorating the lounge looked comfy enough to make him not care less about where he was.
All he wanted to do was just close his eyes for a minute or two, and let all the shit in his head get swallowed by the darkness.
**
Willow pursed her lips together, humming a few chords of an Indigo Girls song that had started on her media player shortly before she had gotten the mad craving for Starbursts. And there was only one place where it was mostly comfortable to go around in her drawstring, cosmically-inclined pajama pants: the Stevenson Hall vending machine.
Located in the basement lounge, it was generally stocked with all sorts of deliciously un-nutritious snack items. The perfect temptations for the college student whose brain lacked proper energy, and also for the Scooby who worked her body to an ache-y, muscle pain because they’d all needed to give 125% on account of Riley’s unprecedented absence from patrol.
She’d known the man for two years now, and she never picked him to be a blow-off. Even when he’d been ears deep in military crap, he’d always arrived to Psychology 101 on time to take the students’ papers. He’d even been pretty consistent in participating whenever Buffy was doing the asking. But tonight, when they had needed his strength and skill, she’d been proven wrong. Tonight, he’d let them all down. And in Willow’s book, that was two points on the side of extra lame.
Fishing the change out of her pocket, Willow glanced through the selection and grimaced when her favorite treat was not in its typical slot. “Not cool,” she muttered, not noticing the soft sounds of rustling clothes behind her or the faint outline of a shadow covering her own.
“Not finding what you want?” Riley asked. He’d almost forgotten that Willow was still living at the university, since Buffy had moved back in with her mom months ago. It seemed a bit funny that in all the dorms, in all of campus, he’d walked right into hers…
Willow turned quickly, pressing her back against the glass as she caught Riley’s gaze. His eyes were hardened from years of fatigue and combat, but there was something nice about them. Something that made her want to stare at them a little longer than someone with a girlfriend was supposed to stare at them…
“Tara…,”she blurted awkwardly, averting her eyes to his chest. His very broad chest that was covered with the thinnest t-shirt in the world.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to sense that Willow’s nerves were on edge, so he made an attempt to fill in the blanks. “Not finding what Tara wanted? Already at the stage in the relationship where you’re her perfect little slave girl?” He chuckled, hoping to watch her ease back into a relaxed state.
“Yes,” Willow replied, before realizing what she’d just agreed too. “I mean...” This was all his fault. His fault for being down here and not going on patrol with them. His fault for being nice to her. His fault for catching her off guard when her brain was fuzzy from sleep and organic chemistry homework. His fault for sort of looking like GI Joe, who had been on her crush list since she was six. His fault for being with Buffy. Her fault for being with Tara…
Her eyes darted frantically to another part of Riley’s body. To his arm. Because arms were safe. Except that Riley’s weren’t. His shirt sleeve was pushed up far enough that she could see the identical pairs of marks going up his arm. Bite marks. Vampire bite marks. “Riley...what’s wrong with your arm?”
Riley tensed and yanked down his sleeve, “It’s nothing.”
Willow furrowed her eyebrows, wondering where his sudden terse attitude had come from. It was just a question. A question that deserved a darn good, logical answer, but a question nevertheless. “I’m not trying to pry or anything. I was just concerned, okay? There’s one that looks pretty fresh. Have you had anyone look at it?”
“It’s nothing,” Riley repeated, grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her tighter against the machine.
Willow bit down on her lip, fear chasing through her veins. This wasn’t like Riley. Riley was a protector, a good guy. Riley didn’t hurt his friends. “Stop it. You’re hurting me.”
Riley leaned in close, her breath warm against his face. He can’t let her know about his addiction, can’t let her see his flaws. All he can do is turn the tables on her, distract her from knowing too much. She would be the one to get under his skin. The one smart enough to figure out just how stupid he is. Still, he relaxed his grip on her, meeting her eyes and reading into the crush he knew she had on him. “Isn’t this what you want? To have a man this close to you? To have a man show you what you’ve been missing since you headed off to the pink leagues? I’ve seen the way you stare at me, Willow. The way you’ve looked at me. I can give you what you want.”
Wedging his thigh between her legs, Willow felt the stirring of his cock against her skin, as if the heat of her core and the heat of this moment were enough to awaken it. She never expected him to reciprocate her crush, never expected him to go from Buffy to her. The world wasn’t written like that, and it wasn’t fair of him to do this now. Not when she had Tara, not when he had Buffy, “Riley, we can’t do this.”
Her words sunk in, piercing through the reality of the situation and making him take a few steps backwards.
“I’m sorry, Willow. I didn’t mean to…”
But in a way, he sort of meant to. Once he’d invaded her personal space, he’d been surprised and enthralled by how much he wanted to keep going, how much he wanted to keep breaking every rule between them. He’d wanted to make her feel him, wanted to make her understand how far he was willing to go to pay the price for his secret. He wanted to feel her breasts heave against his chest as his lips possessed hers, wanted to watch her hair glow under the light of the vending machine.
He wanted to fuck her, feel her squeeze him the same way the vampire whore had squeezed his wrist to get more blood down her throat. He bet that Willow would scream for him the way Buffy never did, that she’d take him higher and faster than any vampire bite. Because she was Willow, and she’d pretty much had that effect on him since the first time they’d met. He’d just been too chicken shit to admit to feeling that way because it was easier to just like Buffy. Just like he was going to keep being chicken shit to protect her from what he really wanted. Because that would be the sort of apocalypse that neither one of them was strong enough to fight.
“It’s okay,” Willow said softly, her own need to forgive others drowning out the barrage of questions she still had for him. “We can just…move on to other things. Like Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Your treat?”
The corner of his lip twitched into an almost half smile as he pulled out his wallet, and fed the machine a slightly crumpled dollar. Willow punched the buttons, and reached down to claim her prize. She still felt unsettled by the way he’d made her feel, the way his comments had wormed into her heart, the way he’d given her doubt and insecurity in exchange for sealed lips and forgiveness.
But it was better this way. It had to be. For both of them.
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t.
Pairing: Willow/Riley (implied Willow/Tara, Riley/Buffy)
Word Count: 1756
Rating: FRM/R – angst, adult language, sexual implications, addiction themes
Setting: Season 5 – “Listening To Fear”
Summary: Willow discovers Riley's habit...
Betas: The irreplaceable and truly fantastic
angelskuuipo and purplefeen.A/N: written as a belated birthday present for Gabrielle. I know it’s probably not quite what you had in mind when you prompted me with a pairing I’d never written before, but I hope that you’ll enjoy it.
Riley stumbled out of the vampire brothel, forcing himself to look calm and collected even though his arm muscles ached with a dull, throbbing pain. It was a pain that marked him, betrayed him, stripped him of what he was. The years he’d spent training to be an Initiative soldier felt wasted by the knowledge that he was letting sub-terrestrial trash feed from him. And for what? So he could feel the rush he thought Buffy got from letting that blood sucker, Dracula, nibble at her skin? So he could feel the explosive pounding of his heart as it desperately tried to keep the blood from leaving his body?
Fuck.
If that were the truth, then why did he feel so dirty? So trapped in this state of mental wrongness? There was nothing right about what he was doing, nothing right about this addiction. There was nothing about it that felt like him. But he didn’t want to stop either. As much as he hated himself for doing it, he knew that tomorrow night would be the same as tonight. That he’d go back to that dank pit the same way a boozehound traveled to the bar to drown his sorrows in a fifth of gin.
The sidewalk seemed as endless as his thoughts as he headed in the direction of UC-Sunnydale, and it wasn’t until he heard the shrieking giggle of a woman that he finally got out of his head. The soldier in him grimaced in concern, wondering what sort of demon had gotten his hands on her and whether or not he needed to call back-up. The college boy in him, however, couldn’t help but notice multiple girlish giggles and as he turned the corner, he nearly bumped into the gaggle of scantily-clad sorority sisters who reeked of beer.
“Hey baby,” one slurred as they saw him. “Wanna party? We can show you…a really, really, really… good time.”
As they huddled around him, invading his personal space, he could see the glazed look in their eyes. The same look he caught in that vampire’s eyes when she was sucking on the crook of his elbow, and moaning like a two-cent whore. And it disgusted him. “No thanks, ladies.”
His eyes caught an opening in their circle, and he pushed his way through them, breaking into an almost run as he headed towards the dormitories. He watched a young freshman push through a door, and without thinking, he reached out and grabbed the door handle in order to stop it from closing. It wasn’t until he was half-way down the stairs that he realized he’d picked the wrong dorm- but the large, plush couches decorating the lounge looked comfy enough to make him not care less about where he was.
All he wanted to do was just close his eyes for a minute or two, and let all the shit in his head get swallowed by the darkness.
**
Willow pursed her lips together, humming a few chords of an Indigo Girls song that had started on her media player shortly before she had gotten the mad craving for Starbursts. And there was only one place where it was mostly comfortable to go around in her drawstring, cosmically-inclined pajama pants: the Stevenson Hall vending machine.
Located in the basement lounge, it was generally stocked with all sorts of deliciously un-nutritious snack items. The perfect temptations for the college student whose brain lacked proper energy, and also for the Scooby who worked her body to an ache-y, muscle pain because they’d all needed to give 125% on account of Riley’s unprecedented absence from patrol.
She’d known the man for two years now, and she never picked him to be a blow-off. Even when he’d been ears deep in military crap, he’d always arrived to Psychology 101 on time to take the students’ papers. He’d even been pretty consistent in participating whenever Buffy was doing the asking. But tonight, when they had needed his strength and skill, she’d been proven wrong. Tonight, he’d let them all down. And in Willow’s book, that was two points on the side of extra lame.
Fishing the change out of her pocket, Willow glanced through the selection and grimaced when her favorite treat was not in its typical slot. “Not cool,” she muttered, not noticing the soft sounds of rustling clothes behind her or the faint outline of a shadow covering her own.
“Not finding what you want?” Riley asked. He’d almost forgotten that Willow was still living at the university, since Buffy had moved back in with her mom months ago. It seemed a bit funny that in all the dorms, in all of campus, he’d walked right into hers…
Willow turned quickly, pressing her back against the glass as she caught Riley’s gaze. His eyes were hardened from years of fatigue and combat, but there was something nice about them. Something that made her want to stare at them a little longer than someone with a girlfriend was supposed to stare at them…
“Tara…,”she blurted awkwardly, averting her eyes to his chest. His very broad chest that was covered with the thinnest t-shirt in the world.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to sense that Willow’s nerves were on edge, so he made an attempt to fill in the blanks. “Not finding what Tara wanted? Already at the stage in the relationship where you’re her perfect little slave girl?” He chuckled, hoping to watch her ease back into a relaxed state.
“Yes,” Willow replied, before realizing what she’d just agreed too. “I mean...” This was all his fault. His fault for being down here and not going on patrol with them. His fault for being nice to her. His fault for catching her off guard when her brain was fuzzy from sleep and organic chemistry homework. His fault for sort of looking like GI Joe, who had been on her crush list since she was six. His fault for being with Buffy. Her fault for being with Tara…
Her eyes darted frantically to another part of Riley’s body. To his arm. Because arms were safe. Except that Riley’s weren’t. His shirt sleeve was pushed up far enough that she could see the identical pairs of marks going up his arm. Bite marks. Vampire bite marks. “Riley...what’s wrong with your arm?”
Riley tensed and yanked down his sleeve, “It’s nothing.”
Willow furrowed her eyebrows, wondering where his sudden terse attitude had come from. It was just a question. A question that deserved a darn good, logical answer, but a question nevertheless. “I’m not trying to pry or anything. I was just concerned, okay? There’s one that looks pretty fresh. Have you had anyone look at it?”
“It’s nothing,” Riley repeated, grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her tighter against the machine.
Willow bit down on her lip, fear chasing through her veins. This wasn’t like Riley. Riley was a protector, a good guy. Riley didn’t hurt his friends. “Stop it. You’re hurting me.”
Riley leaned in close, her breath warm against his face. He can’t let her know about his addiction, can’t let her see his flaws. All he can do is turn the tables on her, distract her from knowing too much. She would be the one to get under his skin. The one smart enough to figure out just how stupid he is. Still, he relaxed his grip on her, meeting her eyes and reading into the crush he knew she had on him. “Isn’t this what you want? To have a man this close to you? To have a man show you what you’ve been missing since you headed off to the pink leagues? I’ve seen the way you stare at me, Willow. The way you’ve looked at me. I can give you what you want.”
Wedging his thigh between her legs, Willow felt the stirring of his cock against her skin, as if the heat of her core and the heat of this moment were enough to awaken it. She never expected him to reciprocate her crush, never expected him to go from Buffy to her. The world wasn’t written like that, and it wasn’t fair of him to do this now. Not when she had Tara, not when he had Buffy, “Riley, we can’t do this.”
Her words sunk in, piercing through the reality of the situation and making him take a few steps backwards.
“I’m sorry, Willow. I didn’t mean to…”
But in a way, he sort of meant to. Once he’d invaded her personal space, he’d been surprised and enthralled by how much he wanted to keep going, how much he wanted to keep breaking every rule between them. He’d wanted to make her feel him, wanted to make her understand how far he was willing to go to pay the price for his secret. He wanted to feel her breasts heave against his chest as his lips possessed hers, wanted to watch her hair glow under the light of the vending machine.
He wanted to fuck her, feel her squeeze him the same way the vampire whore had squeezed his wrist to get more blood down her throat. He bet that Willow would scream for him the way Buffy never did, that she’d take him higher and faster than any vampire bite. Because she was Willow, and she’d pretty much had that effect on him since the first time they’d met. He’d just been too chicken shit to admit to feeling that way because it was easier to just like Buffy. Just like he was going to keep being chicken shit to protect her from what he really wanted. Because that would be the sort of apocalypse that neither one of them was strong enough to fight.
“It’s okay,” Willow said softly, her own need to forgive others drowning out the barrage of questions she still had for him. “We can just…move on to other things. Like Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Your treat?”
The corner of his lip twitched into an almost half smile as he pulled out his wallet, and fed the machine a slightly crumpled dollar. Willow punched the buttons, and reached down to claim her prize. She still felt unsettled by the way he’d made her feel, the way his comments had wormed into her heart, the way he’d given her doubt and insecurity in exchange for sealed lips and forgiveness.
But it was better this way. It had to be. For both of them.
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no subject
on 2010-01-18 05:47 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-01-18 07:05 am (UTC)That makes me so happy to hear.
I really had no clue what kind of reception this would get, but I've appreciated every comment so far!