Lingerie
folder
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
5,233
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
5,233
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
2 (s/x)
Dawn's POV
It kinda made sense, she decided. Not that she’d have ever guessed, but still when they had walked into Xander’s apartment and Spike was sitting on the couch in a short, flippy plaid skirt and white, sleeveless cotton crop with these strappy red heels that she would never, ever be able to walk in, and had greeted them in that ubercool accent: “Hey, bit. Slayer.”, Dawn had sawn nwn next to him, plopped her way too heavy bookbag on the coffee table – and was all that history homework really necessary? Shouldn’t she be excused for being, like, older than dirt? – anyways, instead of the queenbitch Buffy, who stood in the doorway with her jaw hanging open, just like the svelte demon after Spike had cut it’s – wait, it’s not weird to know that if you live on a hellmouth, right? – anyways, Dawn had sat next to him and asked if she could borrow his skirt sometime, but then, Xander walked in from work, well, she didn’t really see him, cause uberbitch Buffy was still in the doorway doing a dead svelte impression, but all of a sudden she could smell his mansweat – can someone say eww!?! - and then he just sorta came to a stop - like the ‘bot when Willow forgot to plug it int ont one time after she was trying to fix it, though she wasn’t supposed to, and it’s eyes sorta glazed over and it’s mouth just hung there – major wiggins - but Xander haat lat look on his face, staring at Spike, who – nose still buried in some weird Rolling Stone magazine from, like the eighties or something – so not cool – replied: “Not a chance, bit. Don’t fancy having big sis decorate my chest with one of her sharp and pointies.” I mean, how fair was that? It figures –fy afy always ruins everything.
It kinda made sense, she decided. Not that she’d have ever guessed, but still when they had walked into Xander’s apartment and Spike was sitting on the couch in a short, flippy plaid skirt and white, sleeveless cotton crop with these strappy red heels that she would never, ever be able to walk in, and had greeted them in that ubercool accent: “Hey, bit. Slayer.”, Dawn had sawn nwn next to him, plopped her way too heavy bookbag on the coffee table – and was all that history homework really necessary? Shouldn’t she be excused for being, like, older than dirt? – anyways, instead of the queenbitch Buffy, who stood in the doorway with her jaw hanging open, just like the svelte demon after Spike had cut it’s – wait, it’s not weird to know that if you live on a hellmouth, right? – anyways, Dawn had sat next to him and asked if she could borrow his skirt sometime, but then, Xander walked in from work, well, she didn’t really see him, cause uberbitch Buffy was still in the doorway doing a dead svelte impression, but all of a sudden she could smell his mansweat – can someone say eww!?! - and then he just sorta came to a stop - like the ‘bot when Willow forgot to plug it int ont one time after she was trying to fix it, though she wasn’t supposed to, and it’s eyes sorta glazed over and it’s mouth just hung there – major wiggins - but Xander haat lat look on his face, staring at Spike, who – nose still buried in some weird Rolling Stone magazine from, like the eighties or something – so not cool – replied: “Not a chance, bit. Don’t fancy having big sis decorate my chest with one of her sharp and pointies.” I mean, how fair was that? It figures –fy afy always ruins everything.